Skip to main content

Full text of "Punch"

See other formats 


. 


c^ 
' 


I 


V 

,.' 


m- 


- 


.i  • 


JAMES  NICHOLSON 


Presented  to  the 

LIBRARY  of  the 
UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 


THE  ESTATE  OF  THE  LATE 
JAMES  NICHQLSCN 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI,  JUNE  35,  1913. 


PUNCH 

Vol.   CXLIV. 
JANUARY— JUNE,    1913. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI,  JUNE  25, 


LONDON: 
PUBLISHED    AT    THE    OFFICE,    10,    BOUVERIE    STREET 


AND  SOLD  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 
1913 


PUKCK,  o*  Tin  LONDON  CHARIVARI,  JUNE  25,  1913- 


101 

p* 


Bradbury,  Agnew  &  Co.,  Ld., 

Printers, 
London  and  Tonbridge. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


CALENDAR,    1913. 


Sanuarg 

jfebruaty 

flDarcb 

Spill 

flDas 

3une 

3 

M 
To 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

i 

2 

3 

4 

8 
9 

10 

n 

12 

"3 
M 
IS 

i  fa 

17 
iS 

19 

2C 

21 
22 
23 

24 

25 

26 

-'7 
•S 

29 
JO 

3  1 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 

TH 
F 
S 

i 

2 

3 

4 

8 

9 

10 

n 

12 

'3 
M 
'5 

16 

17 
iS 

'9 

20 
21 
22 

23 
24 
25 
26 

27 
2S 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

i 

2 

3 

4 

6 
1 

9 

10 

n 

12 

13 
14 
15 

16 

17 
iS 

19 

20 
2-' 

23 
24 
25 
26 

27 
2S 
29 

30 

3' 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

I 

2 

3 
4 
S 

C 

7 
8 

9 

10 

1  1 

12 

•3 

'4 

'5 
16 

17 
iS 

'9 

20 
21 
22 
23 

24 
25 
26 

27 

2b 

29 

3c 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

i 

2 

3 

4 

i 

8 

9 

10 

n 

12 

13 

'4 

'5 
16 

'7 

18 

"9 

20 
21 

22 

23 
24 

25 
26 

27 
28 

29 
.50 

31 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

I 

2 

3 

4 

7 

cS 

9 

10 

n 

12 

'3 

'4 

'5 
K, 

17 
18 
19 

20 

21 

22 
23 
24 

2 

27 

IS 

29 
30 

:; 

3ul\? 

HllQUSt 

S( 

s 

M 
To 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

:pi 

i 

2 

3 
4 

6 

tembcr 

October 

•November       5)ecember 

s 

M 

Tu 
\V 
TH 
F 
S 

I 

2 

3 

4 
5 

6 

7 
8 

9 

10 
n 

12 

•  3 

M 
'5 
16 

i? 
iS 

"> 

20 
21 
22 

23 

24 

2 

27 
28 

20 

3° 
3> 

5 
M 

Tu 
\V 
Tu 
F 
S 

I 

2 

3 
4 

6 

8 
9 

10 

ii 

12 

'3 
M 
'5 
16 

17 

iS 

"9 

20 
21 
22 
23 

24 
25 

26 

27 

28 

29 

30 

31 

7 
8 

9 

10 

n 

12 
13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

ib 
19 

20 

21 
22 
23 
24 

1 
27 

21- 

29 

JC 

s 

M 
Tu 
\V 
TH 
F 
S 

2 

3 

4 

6 

7 

cS 

9 

10 

i  : 

12 
13 

'4 
ti 

1C 

17 

IS 

'9 

to 

21 

22 

2.; 

24 
^5 

26 

27 
2i> 
2C-, 

(0 

3' 

s 

M 
Tu 
W 
TH 
F 
S 

i 

3 

4 

S 

9 

10 

II 

12 

'3 
14 
'5 

16 

'7 
18 

" 

20 
21 

22 

23 
24 
25 
20 
27 
2S> 
2.) 

30 

S 
M 
Tu 
W 
Tu 
F 
S 

i 

2 

3 

4 

6 

8 
9 

10 

1  1 
12 

[3 

14 

\i 
3 

•9 

20 

21 
22 

23 
24 

2', 
2( 
27 

2S 

29 
30 
3' 

Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


"MABGABET,  HAVE  YOU  SAID  voun  PBAYERS?"  "YES,  MUMMY  DEAR,  BUT "  "  BUT  WHAT?' 

"PEBHAPS  I'D  BETTEB  SAY  THEM  AGAIN,  AS  THEY  DIDN'T  SOUND  QUITE  BIGHT."         "WHATEVER  DO  YOU  MF.AN,  DKAR?" 
"WELL,  YOU  SEE,  BILLY  WAS  TRYING  HIS  NEW  PEA-SHOOTER  ON  MY  BARE  FEET  ALL  THE  TIME." 


Basil.     "WELL,     WE     CAME    I*    A    GREAT 
A  SHORT  FUNNEL,   A   DOUBLE    CONNECTING-ROD   AND    AN    OUTSIDE    CTLIR0KB." 


Punch's    AlmanacR    for    1913. 


Banl;  Clerk  (to  lady  who  has  presented  crossed  cheque  for  payment).  "I  AM  SORRY,  MADAM,  BUT  I  CANNOT  CASH  you  THIS  ACBOSS 
THE  COUNTER."  Lady.  "On,  THAT'S  ALL  RIGHT.    I'LL  COME  ROUND." 


IP 


HULLO,  PAT!     WHAT  YER  GOT  THKHE?' 

DOES   IT  TASTE   LIKE?" 


"  SODA-W/.TTER  THEY  DO  CALL  IT." 
'  SHURE,  IT  TASTES  LIKE  VEB  FUT  WAS  ASIILEEP.' 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


THE  HOME  BEAUTIFUL. 

OrESING  OP  THE  ROCKERY  SEASON  IN  OUR  GARDES  SUBURB. 


ONE   OF   THE   BOYS. 
Knt  Caddie.  ••  WHO  'BE  YE  FOOB  xms  MORNING,  ANGUS  ?  "  Second  Caddie.  ••  A  'M  FOOR  THE  PETTICOATS. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


TURNING     OVER    A     NEW     CENTURY. 


ACT  I. 

EVE  OF  THE   100TH  BIRTHDAY. 


ACT  IT. 

TUK   100TH   BIRTHDAY. 


ACT    III. 

THE  llOrii  BIRTHDAY. 


ACT  IV. 

TUB   120TH  BIBTHDAY. 


Punch's    AlmanacK    for    1913. 


NATURE    AND    THE    SPORTSMAN. 


r-It'8  a  cr-r-ran'  vK-w."  snid  tho  groat  golfer,  as  ho  stood  on  the  tenth  toe. 

"  It '»  a  gr-r-an1  viow,"  r<Tl,ed  his  opponent,  who  was  3  down  at  the  turn-"  it  \s  a  gMT-Hn1  vi^  wtotevor. 


when  yc  're  8  tip  !  " 
oyal  and  Very  Ancient  Golf  Legc nds.~] 


"  THERE  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grove  and  stream  ' 
(WORDSWORTH)  to  me  meant  practically  nil ; 

No  "glory"  there,  no  "  freshness  of  a  dream," 
But  just  a  playground  ;  when  I  took  the  hill, 

Like  to  a  young  gazeka,  lithe  of  limb, 

I  had  no  thoughts  too  deep  for  mortal  plummet ; 

'Twas  just  for  joy  of  getting  (curious  whim  ! ) 
Up  to  the  summit. 

No  Nymph  surprised  me  nutting  in  the  glade ; 

No  Faun  addressed  me  in  the  woodland  Cree'.: ; 
No  sketchy  Dryad,  peeping  from  the  shade 
Wooed  me,  all  blackberry  smears,  upon  tho 

cheek ; 
As  for  the  primrose  (in  the  river  scene), 

Which,  rightly  viewed,  affects  our  holier  feelings, 
For  all  I  cared  it  might  as  well  have  been 
Potato-peelings. 

Then  dawned  the  lovely  adolescent  prime 

When  salad  sprouts,  and  young  calf-loves  occur ; 
When  Nature,  while  the  new  buds  burst  in  rhyme, 

Is  worth  considering,  on  account  of  HEB  ; 
Then,  if  I  noticed,  in  its  saffron  dross, 

Beside  the  same  old  river's  marge,  the  primrose, 
Forth  from  my  lips,  still  damp  with  HER  caress, 
A  jocund  hymn  rose. 

Such  periods  pass,  but  leave  their  print  behind. 

"  Never,"  I  said,  "  in  all  my  years  to  be, 
Never  again  can  I  be  wholly  blind 

To  Nature's  wish  lo  keep  in  touch  with  mo." 


Tho  waters  whispered  my  affairs ;  the  trees, 
Communing  of  them,  grew  almost  poetic, 
And  so  I  went  on  swallowing  "  fallacies  " 
Strangely  "  pathetic." 

Then  came  a  dreadful  change  :  I  took  to  Spor'u. 

I  could  not  look  upon  that  sight  most  fair — 
High  woods  where  Autumn  holds  his  regal  court — 

But  I  must  think :  "  They  'd  come  well  over  there !  " 
And,  though  I  still  regarded  Nature's  claim, 

The  lust  to  perforate  some  harmless  creature 
Preoccupied  me  till  the  thing  became 
My  leading  feature. 

Then  followed  worse.     Ah,  Scotland !  I  have  known 
Great  evenings  when  the  sea-loch's  burnished  gold, 

Flanked  by  the  hill's  shot-velvet,  green  and  roan, 
Has  left  my  bosom  absolutely  cold ; 

And  just  because,  upon  the  windy  brae, 

Through  inadvertence,  some  mere  silly  trifle — 

Over-  (or  under-)  sight — no  deer  that  day 
Fell  to  my  rifle. 

'•''  ••'•  •"•  -::-  -::-  .:• 

So  mused  he,  plodding  in  the  gillies'  track, 

When  "  Hist !  " — he  dropped  to  earth  and,  crawling 

prone, 
Got  in — drew  breath — t:ok  steady  aim,  and — crack! — 

Toppled  his  beast,  ten  points  and  eighteen  stone ! 
Later — his  foot  upon  the  gralloched  dead — 

Touching  tho  stalker's  arm  still  bare  and  gory, 
"  Duncan,  my  friend,  have  you  remarked,"  he  said, 


"  Yon  sunset's  glory?  " 


O. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


FREAK  HOSPITALITY  is  STILL  EXTREMELY  FASHIOXABLE.     MB.  HARRY  VASDERJINKS,  \viio  NEABLY  LOST  ins  LIFE  BY  SHIPWRECK 

A  YEAB  AGO,  YESTERDAY  GAVE  A  BACHELORS'  DINNER  TO  CELEBRATE  THE  ANNIVEB8ABY  OP  HIS  E8CAPK.  THE  SERVICES  OP  A  LIFE- 
BOAT CBEW  WEBE  REQUISITIONED  AND  GUESTS  WERE  ONLY  PERMITTED  TO  ENTEB  THE  RESTAURANT  BY  MEANS  OF  THE  LIFE-SAVING 
AI'PABATUS  AND  THE  BREECHES  BUOY. 


MR.  EUSTACE  II.  JOT,  WHO  SOME  TIME  AGO  NEARLY  PERISHED  IN  AN  EABTHQ.UAKE  i.\  MEXICO,  GAVE  AN  KTEBESTING  DINNER 

?  WEEK  TO  CELEBRATE   HIS   HAPPY   ESCAPE.        JuST    AS    THE    SOUP   WAS    SEBVED    THE    HOST   GAVE   A   SIGNAL    AND  A   NUMBEB  OP  CON- 
>    ATTENDANTS    BEGAN    TO    PUT    INTO    MOTION    ALL    TUB    MOST    CHARACTERISTIC    FEATURES    OF    AN    EARTHQUAKE.       THE    GUESTS 
THOROUGHLY  ENJOYED  THE   NOVELTV   OF  THE   EXPERIENCE 


- 

Punch's    AlmanacK    for    1913. 


THE     CARD-ROOM     AT     THE     TRUMPERS'     CLUB. 


AS  II  WAS  IN  THE  DAYS    OP  WHIST, 


AS  IT  WAS  IH  TUE  DAYS  OF  BRIDGE. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


THE     CARD-ROOM     AT     THE     TRUMPERS1     CLUB. 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  DAYS  OF   COON-CAH. 


AND  AS  IT  WILL  rnoBABLY  BE  IN  THE  NEAR  FUTCBE. 


Punch's   Almanack    for    1913. 


Golfer  (unsteadied  ly  Christmas  luncheon)  to  Opponent.    "  SIR,  I  WISH  YOU  CLEARLY  TO  UNDERSTAND  THAT  I  RESENT  YOUB 

JUST— YOUR   INTERFERENCE   WITH    MY   GAME,    SlR  I      TlLT  THE  GREEN  ONCE   MORE,    SIR,   AND   I   CHUCK  THE   MATCH!  " 


UNWARRAXT — YOUR 


CtuUic  (in  for  caddie  competition).  "  WON  MY  MATCH  AT  THU  THIRD  'OLH,  SIR."  Secretary.  "  WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN?" 

•THE  OTHER  CHAP  WAS  TWO  UP  ON    ME,    BUT    '«  'S    FELL    INTO   THE    QUARRY    POND    AT   TIIK    THIRD    AN*    CAN'T  GET  OUT." 

Secretary.  "WHY  DIDN'T  YOC  HELP  HIM?"  Caddie.  " 'E  SAID  'E 'D  GO  ON  WITH  THE  MATCH  IP  I  DID." 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


CHRISTMAS     EVE     SHOPPING. 


Umbrella  {or  Aunt  J«n«.     All  too  •xf«n«tv«.  but  wif«  remcmle.-j 
•T.e  wentj  one.      Buj  «  it.      Murt  g«i  coiMtning  <l««  for  Aunt. 


Pi|i«    for    U«cl«    G(or£«.      Net  on*   I  'J    cir«    to  g»v«   kin.       I   w>nt 
«om«  cigai  ..       Gtt  tk««i.       Somttktng  cl««  {or  UncU  G<orgf. 


Lilll*  ktnd-bag  for  wife'*  siAtr  Kate.  None  tlie  rignt  colour. 
But  tker«  '•  •  Judy  dreoing-oie.  JolJ  mounttj,  wkiA  wife  llyi  Alt 
murt  k«v«.  Wile  i  «i/Ver  Kite  murt  wait. 


HarolJ    kfti     broken    Lt«     m«Ai*.       New    on*     {or   kirn.       None    ty 
favourite  Btik«r.      I  want  .torn*  goK-k*ll*.      M«y  ••  well  k«v«  a 
bi^xei,       Pcrkafs  jomctkinjf  clcc  for  Harold. 


Swc<ti  for  goJ-AilJ.  Rememter  in  ttm*  *K«  i*  r*(ktr  Liiiou*. 
\Vif«  discover*  new  fondant.  V«ry  good.  Ord.tr  lome  koxcs. 
Never  done  to  kav*  mida  goJ-c3nl<l  ill. 


TuVi«  well  e;rr.eJ   ie.ft.      So  ttrtag  buying   Gkrulmai  {>r«s«rxt'.     SuJ- 
d«aly  remember  kc.v«n't  bougKt  any.    Never  mind;  makt  upnext  >«.r. 




Punch's    Almanackfor_1913. 


PRIZE     COMPETITION     FOR     A     CINEMA     PLAY. 

(By  our  Youngest  Competitor) 


Bron&o    Bill    i.    leaning     .gain*     kia    Ut  titlle  knowing  tk.t  kia  young  lady.  Clara,  ia 

wraffted    «    tkougkt-f.rk.fa    tkinking    of  kurryin*  aero,,  tke  Pra.r..  witk   aom.  egg> 

!,„ J.-1  for  kia  krealfart  from  ker  f atker  a  Nation. 


. 
Bueltjumftng    Ite.     tk«    Terror    of    Tex««, 


M    own    Korse.    "  Ltgktntng,"   kaf   keen 
uf   wttk   Rkevmmttem. 


He  iteali  tier  korie  anJ  tiei  ker  to  •  tree. 


vli«re     ake    \a    JificovereJ     fcy     Red     Scirf. 
Ckie{    of   tke   JreaJeJ   Mixzywii'guns. 


But  eovetkiag  kae  tol  J  Bill  tktt  lomeone  ia  in  trouble,  ao  lie  >rriv«  in  tke  nicl  of  time 
•n<l  laaioea  Red  Scuf. 


Aa  for  Ike.  lie  il  unerted  for  Horae-Aealing, 


And  gcta  impnaoned  for  life. 


ID   gaol  ke   akowe   rfmoree  for   wkat    lie    kci 
dose.     (Ple«e    Aow   remorM   of    Bill    u>    • 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


SIR-    HERBERT  TREE 


<JA  li*/* 


SOME     PAULO-POST-FUTURIST     IMPRESSIONS. 


Punch's    AlmanacK    for    1913 


THE    ROMANCE    OF    ITALY. 


(By  our  Special  Peace  Artist.) 


Quito  (at  the  Forum).  "  LADIES,  AND  YOU,  Sins,  IF  YOU  PLEASE  ;  YOU  ABE  NOW  BEGABDINO!  ZE  MOS'  WONDERFUL  OBJECT  ra  BOMB  I  " 


Fompeian  Guide.  "DERE,  SAB!    DAT  is  MOST  BEAUTIFUL  EXAMPLE  OF  ANCIENT  ROMAN  DRINK-BAB." 
Exhausted  Sujldsccr.  "On,  ron  A  MODKBN  AMERICAN  ONE!" 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


THE     ROMANCE     OF     ITALY. 

(By  our  Special  Peace  Artist.) 


iiM  (wearily),  "BAEDEKER  BAYS  THE  PLACE  is  NOTED  FOB  THE  DBYNESS  OP  ITS  CLIMATE.    MY  WOBTHY  GUIDE 

IS  THE   FINEST  VIEW  IN  THE   WHOLE  OF  ITALY.       THE  VOLCANO  WON'T  EKUIT,  AND   I   COULDN'T   SKE  IT  IF  IT   DID. 


Tourist  at  Taormina 

TELLS  ME  THAT  THIS 

BUT,  THANK  HEAVEN,  THERE  'S  NO  QOLF  HEBE!" 


IN  CASE  THE  NATURAL  BEAUTIES  OF  ITALY  SHOULD  NOT  BE  ENOUGH  FOB  YOU,  THESE  13  ALWAYj  HEB  AlVT.    THUS,  NOBODY,  ON 
APPROACHING  SORRENTO,  HAS  ANY  OCCASION  TO  BE  DOWNHKABTED. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


lie  (carried  away).  "SEE  THAT?"    (No  answer)    "Now  THEY'VE  BOUND  'IM,   THEY'LL  GAG   'IM  " — (No  answer) — "so  AS  HE 
CAS'T  BHOUT.     SEE?"  She  (with  great  difficulty).  "  THEY  OUGHT  TO  'AVE  SOME  OF  THIS  TOFFEE  OF  YOURS  TO  GIVE  "IM." 


•00  ten! 


")'    "I    »**,    WOK    HERE  |       THIS    IS    PRETTY    PUTRID    WHEN 


7  "Mllc.Saireyannska 


AHARAZADE 

mmanuclkin 


C  , 

UANSE  SYNTHETIQUE. 


s 

b 


.TV .  AVinstonkin 


ESjlUFFRAGI5TES- 
I.AscjuittjofF 

Corps  ic  S 


rnn 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


Hall  Attendant  (surprised  into  an  audible  whisper).  "  JE-HOSH-APHAT  1 " 
Reveller  (indignantly).  "NOTHING  OF  THE  SORT — CHARLES  THE  SECOND. " 


Elderly  Spinster  (ratlierdeaf).  "LISTEN  TO  THE  WAITS;    AREN'T  THEY  BEAUTIFUL?" 

Sarah.  "SOUNDS  TO  MB  LIKE  THE  OBPIN'TONS,  Miss." 

Elderly  Spinster.  "I  DON'T  CABE  WHO  THE  GENTLEMEN  ARE;  TAKE  THEM  A  SHILLING  AND  ASK  THEM  TO  COME  AGAIN. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


MINCE   MEAT. 


(Hi/  our  L'lwriniriely  Artiste.) 
IN  view  of  recent  events  in  the  Bal- 
kans, »  clever  statistician  forecasts  that 
on  the  25th  Decem- 
her  next,   5,677,210    , 
British    Household- 
crs    will   make   aj 
reference     at     their 
Christmas  dinner  to; 
the   cutting    up    of! 
Turkey,  and  of  these 
5,677,209    will    im- 
agine that  they  are 
the  only  persons  to 
whom   the   idea    of 
this    excellent    jest 
has  occurred. 


We  are  sorry  to 
notice  that  there  is 
a  certain  amount  of 
grumbling  among 
ladies  about  the 
newest  fashions  in 
dresses.  They  are 
complaining  that 
these  are  uncomfort- 
able, without  being 

indecent. 

-.:=  » 

"  I  fancy,"  said 
the  lady,  approach- 
ing the  Professor, 
"  we  have  met  be- 
fore." The  Professor 
put  on  his  glasses 
and  had  a  good  look 
at  the  lady.  "  Well, 
you  may  have, 
Madam,"  he  said, 
"but  I  certainly  have 
not." 

The  public  are 
cautioned  that  pres; 
notices,  when  used 
to  advertise  books 
should  sometimes  be 
taken  with  a  grain  of 
salt.  "This  is  one 
of  the  most  childish 
productions  we  have 
ever  come  across," 
remarked  a  contem- 
porary in  its  review 
of  a  certain  novel, 


"James  Smith,  the  author,  must  surely 
be  Master  James  Smith."  The  book  is 
now  being  boomed  as  follows :—"  One 
of  our  leading  newspapers  hails  the 
author  of  this  novel  as  a  Master." 


•BUY  YOUE  RESIDENCE. 
LIBERAL  ADVANCES 


'  GOT  ANY  'BACCA  ?  " 

'Now  DON'T  YOU  WORRY  YOURSELF  ABOUT  ME,  MATE." 


ON  SHOP  &  HOUSE  PROPERTY" 

;-ays  the  advertisement  of  a  Building 
-  Society.     While  it  is 
quite  true  that  Lib- 
erals  are  advancing 
on  property  of  every 
kind,  it  seems  doubt- 
ful   policy     for    the 
i  Society  in   question 
i  to  draw  attention  to 
the  fact. 


^ 

The  village  wind- 
band  was  assembled 
on  Boxing-Day  for 
the  final  rehearsal 
before  the  Grand 
Concert.  "Where 
be  Bill  Huggins?" 
asked  the  conductor. 
"  'E  beain't  quite  the 
thing,  zur,"  said  a 
colleague.  "  Why, 
what 's  the  matter 
wi"im?"  "Idoan't 
rightly  know  what 's 
the  matter,  zur,  but 
we  reckon  as  'e's 
overblowed  isself." 


It  is  well  that  it 
should  be  pointed 
out  that  danger 
lurks  in  the  saying 
that  every  mince- 
pie  eaten  before  the 
New  Year  means  a 
year  of  happiness. 
As  often  as  not  it 
means  a  jolly  bad 
quarter  of  an  hour. 
Indeed  last  year  we 
heard  of  a  youngster 
who  attempted  to 
make  sure  that  he 
would  become  in  due 
course  a  blithe  cen- 
tenarian. He  is  with 
us  no  longer. 

The  Pluckiest  Act 
J      I    Never    Saw:  — A 
Cabinet     Minister 
kissing  a  Suffragette 
under  the  mistletoe. 


A  LADIES'  man  Eobert  is  not, 
Such  casual  manners  he 's  got ; 
But,  though  I  can  show 
Several  strings  to  my  bow, 
I  love  him  the  best  of  the  lot. 

Last  night  -we  sat  out  at  a  dance, 
Peeling  too  sentimental  to  "  Lanco," 
And  I  fancy  ho  guessed 
I  should  fall  on  his  breast 
The  moment  he  gave  me  the  chance. 


A   CHECK    IN   THE   MATING    GAME. 

So,  a  snub  wouldn't  hurt  him  a  bit 

(1  knew  he  was  pretty  hard  hit), 

And  I  quickly  rehearsed 

How  I  'd  fool  him  at  first 

And  capitulate  when  I  thought  fit. 

He  proposed.    I  demurely  said  "  No." 
He  was  silent  a  second  or  so, 
Then  sighed  (from  relief, 
It  seemed,  rather  than  grief), 
And  briskly  responded  "Bight-O." 


And  now  I  feel  horribly  small, 
My  tears  are  beginning  to  fall, 

For  it 's  evident  I 

Must  eat  humble  pie 
Or  never  get  Eobert  at  all. 

Answer  to  "Smith  Junior."  -  In 
reply  to  your  enquiry,  jour  de  Van  is 
the  French  for  New  Year's  Day :  jour 
de  I'dnc  is  the  First  of  April. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


Far  and  wide  through  Fairyland, 
Far  along  each  fairy  strand, 
Peter  Pan,  we  heard  you  play, 
Heard  your  piping  day  by  day, 
Till  at  last 

Bid  by  yon 
Fast,  so  fast, 

Back  we  flow- 
Like  a  flock  of  thistle-down — 
To  this  park  of  London  Town. 


Autumn 's  here,  but  yet  we  sing 
(Dancing  for  you  in  a  ring)  ; 
Through  the  yellow  leaves  we  run 
Which  the  wind  brings  for  our  fun  ; 

They  are  green 
To  our  eyes, 

Crisp  and  clean ; 
And  the  skies, 

Grey  to  Men,  to  us  are  blue—- 
Never any  other  hue. 

Winter  soon  will  come,  but  we 
Still  will  frolic  'neath  each  tree, 
Frolic  where  you  "ve  come  to  dwell. 
For  our  sakes,  within  this  dell ; 
Cold  or  heat, 

Sun  or  rain, 
Life  is  sweet, 

For  again—- 
So you  tell  us,  Peter  Pan.— 
We  have  won  the  love  of  Man. 


//I 


In  the  ages  that  are  gone 

Hyde  Park,  right  to  Kensington, 

Sheltered  fairies  in  its  bowers 

Built  of  brushwood,  moss  and  flowers  ; 

Then  Men  turned 
Grim  and  sad. 

No  more  yearned 

To  be  glad 

In  the  merry  fairy  way — 
Simple  pleasures,  simple  play. 


Drooped  then  every  fairy  head 
(Oh,  what  bitter  tears  were  shed  !), 
And  the  fairies  vanished  quite — 
Hushed  the  home  of  every  sprite  1 

Song-birds  wept, 
Furred  things  too, 

All  that  crept, 

When  they  knew 
Why  the  London  fairies  fled — 
Faith  in  fairies'  worth  was  dead  1 

'But  there's  nothing  more  to  fear, 
So  you  say,  this  happy  year  ; 
Mortals  by  your  help  have  seen 
I  All  that  fairies  really  mean- 
Healthy  joys  ^ 

To  enfold 
Girls  and  boys. 

Young  and  old — 
I  So  we  thank  you,  Peter  Pan  — 
Peter — never  grown  a  Man  I 


J       tf 


THE    FAIRIES    OF    LONDON    TO    PETER    PAN,     1912. 


Punch's    AlmanacK    for    1913. 


[It  has  been  suggested  that  the  vast  army  of  unorganised  labour  in  London  streets  should  be  taken  over  by  a  General  Information 
vndicate.     Badges  aud  bell-punches  would  be  provided  and  a  small  fixed  fee  of,  say,  on::  halfpenny  would  be  levied  in  all  cases.] 


"HEBE'S  THE  KERB,  Sin." 


"THIS   IS   YOUR   HAT,    MlSTEB." 


"  FOLLOW  THESE  PEOPLE,  SlR,  AND  YOU  WILL  GET  YOUR  TICKET 
AT  THE   SMALL   WINDOW  ON   THE  LEFT." 


'  THAT  's  WOT  YOU  SLIPPED  ON,  Sin,  THAT  BIT  o'  BANANA-PEEL. 


"IN   HEBE,   MISS." 


BRIDGE   WEST." 


YES,  Sin.    You  WANT  WATERLOO  BRIDGE—  NEXT 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


[An  enterprising  mnga/ino  recently  had  :i  story  illustrated  by  drawings  which  were  fushiou-platos  in  addition  to  being  illustrativo 
of  the  text.     Why  not  go  further  and  insinuate  lucrative  advertisements?] 


"  SHE  FLUNG  THE  RING  ON  THE  GROUND  AND  TURNED  SCORN- 
FULLY FROM  HIM."  (THE  ABOVE  DRAWING  IS  NOT  ONLY  At. 
ILLUSTRATION  TO  OUR  GREAT  SERIAL  BTORY,  BUT  ALSO  GIV«S  A 
SMART  TYPE  OF  COUNTRY  SUIT  FOR  GOLFING  AND  OTHER  OUTDOCU 
EXERCISES,  FROM  MESSRS.  SNOOKER,  JERMYN  STREET,  S.W. 
THE  PRETTY  AFTERNOON  GOWN  IS  BY  VF.RA  OF  CONDUIT  STREET.) 


"  As  THE  CAR  FLEW  PAST  A  DARK  FIGURE  SPRANG  FROM  THK 
HEDGE  WITH  A  LEVELLED  REVOLVER."  (THE  CAR  SHOWN  18  A 
SMALL-SIZED  75  H.P.  GA8PABD — A  HANDY,  RELIABLE  CAR  FOB 
ALL  PURPOSES  ;  THE  REVOLVER  BEING  A  SEMI-AUTOMATIC 
NORTHERN,  PROCURABLE  AT  201A,  HAYMARKET.) 


"'I  WILL  HAVE  THK  PAPERS,'  HISSED  LjEROUX."  (WE  CAS 
HIGHLY  RECOMMEND  THE  ROLL-TOP  DESK  SHOWN  IN  THIS  PICTURE. 
WHITE  FOR  CATALOGUE  OF  OFFICE  "FURNITURE  TO  MESSRS.  LIFIEY 

AND    LlFFEY,    CllKAPSIDK.) 


"  SHE  WAS  DISCOVERED  UNCONSCIOUS  IN  THE  EARLY  MORNING." 
(THE  DELIGHTFUL  BIJOU  COTTAGE  IN  THE  DISTANCE  IS  ONB  O* 
THOSE  SPECIALLY  DESIGNED  FOB  THE  Ll'SHINGHAM  GARDEN  ClTY 

Co.    PRICE  £350  AS  IT  STANDS.    TAKES  ONLY  48  HOURS  TO  BUILD.) 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


JL  JL    befell  tliat  A  ^rtaintTTlati 


f«nt  "fKcm  out  » 


him    »ina.!£rSk«tfffivetn«  an 

?I  6 
.  So  he    ae     or; 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


ul  to  pay  (or 
h*  h^  Vol. 


faf  up  » 
Arm  ami  tftrict 


Owrur  ncwiiff 
fl  he.  (oon 


is  to  \?c(rie.n6  me. 


Che  took  it  ^  JtrAgfvtwgp  6«f»rT€6 


a<J  for  fter  to 
return  fino  fi«w»it«<5 
bu 


returned  not  »g».irt» 


cou\6  60  nought  more  (or  him.  • 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


THE     TRUTH     ABOUT     1913. 


FA   Prophetic   Almanack,   Ciii.l,-  and  Vade-mecum  for  the   approaching  year;    including  Postal I  Information    Solar .Predictions    Lunar 
culUtk,!.",  Ti.lo  Table,  Antidotes  for  PouoBS,  Notes  on  Etiquette  and  a  Guide  to  the  Best  Times  for  Sowing  and  Planting,  etc.,  etc.] 


Occultations 

IN  tlio  past  Mr.  Punch  has  often 
\\ished  his  readers  a  Happy  New  Yc:>r, 
but  he  has  never  felt  so  certain  that 
happiness  was  within  their  grasp  as 
to-day,  when  lie  presents  to  them  for 
the  first  time  his  Prophetic  Almanack, 
(luido  and  Viide-mecum  for  1913.  With 
tin-  aid  of  the  almanack,  his  readers 


TIIE  SEEII. 

can  face  the  approaching  year  calmly; 
and  if,  in  spite  of  the  warnings  of  the 
stars,  any  catastrophe  should  come 
upon  them  unawares,  the  Tide  Table, 
the  Notes  on  Etiquette  and  the  Anti- 
dotes for  Poisons  should  be  sufficient  to 
indicate  a  way  of  escape.  The  Solar 
Predictions,  the  Wrages  Table  and  the 
List  of  our  Colonial  Possessions  are 
calculated  to  soothe  those  most  in  need 
of  comfort,  while  the  faint-hearted  will 
take  new  courage  when  they  read  the 
Postal  Information  and  the  Table  for 
Estimating  Standing  Crops.  In  short, 
it  is  Mr.  Punch's  belief  that  with  the 
Prophetic  Almanack  and  Guide  for 
companion  no  one  need  fear  any- 
thing from  the  approaching  year 
of  grace  1913. 

It  is  just  possible,  however,  that 
some  may  say,  "  On  what  does 
Mr.  Punch  rest  his  claim  to  fore- 
tell the  future  by  the  stars?" 
The  question  is  a  fair  one.  It  can 
best  be  answered  by  recalling 
some  of  his 

ASTROLOGICAL  PROPHECIES 

ALREADY  FULFILLED. 
The  sinking  of  the  White  Ship, 
for  instance,  was  clearly  foretold 
in  Mr.  Punch's  Almanack  for 
1120  by  the  words  "Saturn  in 
the  ninth  in  trine  with  Neptune 
suggests  shipping  troubles." 


Our  prediction  of  the  battle  of  Agin- 
court  in  the  Almanack  for  1415  creah-d 
a  tremendous  sensation.  Our  actual 
\vurds  were  "Mars  on  the  meridian 
denotes  activity  in  military  circles." 
I  low  fully  tins  was  borne  out  by  events 
which  followed  is  known  now  to  all  the 
world. 

"Deaths  among  legal  dignitaries," 
said  the  Almanack  for  1553,  and,  alas  ! 
it  was  in  that  year  that  His  Majesty 
KING  EDWARD  VI.,  the  chief  law-maker 
of  England,  passed  away. 

The  Gunpowder  Plot  was  definitely 
foretold  by  the  words  "  Uranus  on  the 
cusp  of  the  eleventh  house  threatens 
a  warm  autumn,"  which  shows  how 
seldom  the  stars  can  err  in  their  mes- 
sages. 

"Deaths  from  sickness"  sufficiently 
indicated  the  Great  Plague  of  London. 

Many  other  prophecies  have  been 
fulfilled,  such  as  "  Scandal  in  Eeligious 
Circles  (1567),  "  Deaths  by  Duelling  " 
(1712),  and  "New  Laws  Passed"  (1844). 

Having  established  his  claim  to  be  in 
the  confidence  of  the  stars,  Mr.  Punch 
now  proceeds  to  give  his  Prophetic 
Almanack,  Guide  and  General  Vade- 
mecum.  He  feels  that  he  cannot  make 
a  better  beginning  than  by  presenting 
to  the  public  his  specially  prepared 

I.-POSTAL  INFORMATION. 
Letters. — For  the  sum  of  one  penny 
the  Post  Office  undertakes  to  convey  a 
letter  weighing  4  ozs.  or  less  to  any 
legible  address  in  the  British  Isles.  In 
these  days  of  telephones  and  motor-cars, 
however,  4  oz.  letters  are  but  rarely 
written  ;  at  the  end  of  2  ozs.  most  of  us 
find  that  we  have  said  all  that  we  want 
to  say,  and  we  do  not  grudge  the  Post- 
Office  the  little  bit  of  extra  profit.  In 
some  cases,  of  course,  this  profit  is  more 
than  a  little.  It  is,  for  instance,  difficult 


to  send  out  an  invitation  of  more  than 
15  drams,  or  to  answer  it  in  more  than 
loz.  and  a  quarter.  On  the  same  day  to 


'"A'PEXNY  STAMP,   PLEASE,   MlSS." 


THE    GREAT   LICENCE   ANOMALY. 
N.B. :  You  WILL  WANT  A  LICENCE  FOB  TIII: 

SPOOK,  BUT  YOU  CAN  DECORATE  YOUR  SIIIIiT- 
FHOKT  FOR  NOTHING. 

dispatch  a  dozen  invitations  of  less  than 
an  ounce  and  only  to  receive  one  three 
and  a  half  ounce  letter  from  Sir  ED- 
WARD DURNING-LAWBENCE  gives  one 
some  idea  of  the  prosperity  of  the 
General  Post-Office. 

Post  Cards. — These  are  sold  at  the 
following  rates  :  Thin,  |r7.  each  ;  Stout 
1  for  f  d.,  11  for  6d.  To  the  recipient  the 
adiposity  of  a  post-card  is,  however, 
of  less  importance  than  the  writing 
upon  the  side  reserved  for  inland  com- 
munications. 

•  Dog  Licences. — A  dog  licence 
maybe  purchased  over  the  counter 
of  the  post-office  for  7s.  6(7.,  the 
size  of  the  dog  being  immaterial. 
Though  it  is  illegal  to  keep  a  dog 
without  a  licence,  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  you  keeping  a  licence 
without  a  dog.  You  have  only 
to  glim  the  document  to  your 
front  gate  and  burglars  will  keep 
away. 

Money  by  Post. — Money  can  be 
ssnt  in  an  ordinary  letter  at  the 
ordinary  rates,  whether  in  the 
form  of  a  postal  order  or  in  solid 
cash.  If  the  latter,  the  Post 
Office  regulations  require  that  it 
should  be  well  wrapped  up,  and 
that  the  words  "  Key  Only  " 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


should  bo  written  legibly  on  the  front 
of  the  envelope. 

Stock  Exchange  Dull. 


II.— OUR  CHIEF  IMPERIAL 
POSSESSIONS. 


NAMK. 

In. hi 

Iliiiimi.-r-mil 
Soho 

Riyswntor 
liournevillo 


HOW  OBTAINED. 

OODQUMt 

Si-ttli-ineut 
Ann  -Xiltion 
Annexed  from 

Italy 
Lt-  isr  from  Not- 

tini?  Hill 
'   froTn 

Nutivr-8 


TITLE  Of  KI-I.KII. 

Tin-  Vi. •- T'I.V 

'I  In-  'ii.vri-tn.r 
Tin-  M.-iyor 
Tin-  Miiraroni 

Tl  c-  Nut 
The  Coconnut 


Stock  Exchange  Dull. 

HI.— WHAT    A    LANDLORD   MAY 
NOT  DO. 

The  relations  between  a  landlord  and 
his  tenant  are  so  important  and  yet  so 
little  understood  that  our  readers  will 
be  glad  to  learn  their  exact  status  in 
the  matter.  A  landlord  may  not 

(1)  Stroll  in  uninvited,  about  8  P.M., 
and  seat  himself   hungrily  in   his   (or 
rather  your)  dining-room. 

(2)  Kick  you  down  your  (or  rather 
his)    front-door   steps  if  you   are   late 
with  the  rent. 

(3)  Make  disparaging  remarks  about 
your — that  is,  his — or,  rather,  the  her- 
baceous boarder. 

IV.— WHAT  A  TENANT  MAY  NOT  DO. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  tenant  may 
not — 

(1)  Kick  the  landlord  down  the  steps 
when  he  asks  for  the  rent. 

(2)  Sell  the  house  without  the  land- 
lord's permission. 

V.— ECLIPSES  DURING  1913. 

There  will  be  five  eclipses  in  1913 — 

three  partial   eclipses  of  the  Sun  and 

two  total  eclipses  of  the  Moon.     They 

will,  however,  all  be  invisible  at  Green- 


AN  ECLIPSE   OF   THE   MOON. 


I.  BEFORE  USING  OUR 

SAFETY   RAZOR. 


II.    An  Ell. 


wich ;  unfortunately  for  the  trades- 
people of  that  town,  who  generally 
make  a  large  profit  out  of  the  rush  of 
visitors  to  Greenwich  when  an  eclipse 


A   LANDLORD   MAY  NOT  DISCLAIM   ALL  RESPONSIBILITY 
FOR  REPAIRS. 


OFF  TO  SEE  THE  ECLIPSE  AT  GREENWICH. 

is  announced  as  being  visible  there.  It 
will  be  possible,  however,  to  observe 
them  through  a  smoked  glass  in  certain 
parts  of  the  Pacific. 

Total  Eclipse  of  the  Moon,  March  22. 
This  occurs  in  the  first  quarter  (in 
advance)  of  Libra,  and  the 
fourth  house.  It  indicates 
bad  weather,  and 
some  deaths  in 
Greenwich  and 
elsewhere.  The 
Stock  Exchange 
will  be  depressed.  ( 

Partial  Eclipse  of 
the  Sun,  April  6. 
This  falls  in  the 
fifteenth  decanate 
of  Scorpio  in  the 
second  house. 
(Two  houses 
nightly.)  It 
threatens  grave 
danger  of  some- 
thing happening. 
The  Stock  Ex- 
change will  ba 
distinctly  flat. 


Partial  Eclipse  of  the  Sun,  August  31. 
Thin  transpires  in  the  eleventh  cusp 
of  Gemini  in  the  third  house  on  the 
left.  It  denotes  change,  together  with 
a  certain  amount  of  stationariness.  The 
Stock  Exchange  will  be  horribly  dull. 

Total  Eclipse  of  the  Moon,  September  15. 

This  happens  in  the  node  of  Cancer 
sideways.  It  points  to  events  eventu- 
ating, or,  in  some  cases,  otherwise. 
The  Stock  Exchange  will  bo  even  more 
sluggish  than  usual. 

Partial  Eclipse  of  the  Sun, 
September  30. 

This  falls  out  in  the  occultation  of 
Aquarius.  It  foreshadows  the  passing 
of  time  and  indicates  the  presence  of 
weather.  The  Stock  Exchange  will  bo 
absolutely  torpid. 


VI  .-MOTTOES  FCR  THE  YEAR. 

A  swarm  of  bees  in  Jan. 
Would  surprise  the  average  man. 

February  fills  the  dykes 

With  skidding  cars  and  motor-bikes. 

A  peck  of  dust  in  March  doth  bring 
Contentment  to  a  captive  king. 
Well,  well ;  a  pint  of  ale  for  me — 
Quot  viri,  tot  sententia. 

The  cuckoo  comes  in  April, 
Casts  a  clout  in  May, 
Coughs  full  soon  on  the  first  of  Jims 
And  sneezes  all  the  day. 

If  only  St.  Swithin's  is  fine,  then  we 
Shall  have  one  fine  day  in  1 — 9 — 1 — 3. 

Drye  Auguste  and  warme  doth  harvesto 

noe  harme ; 
Cold  Auguste  and  wette  is   what   wo 

shall  gette. 

Geese  have  broken  down  and  wept, 
All  their  finer  nature  shocked, 
At  the  thought  of  dying  Sept. 
Merging  into  new-born  Oct. 

Complain  to  your  Member 

Of  fogs  in  November  ; 


MERCURY  RISES  6  A.M.' 


Punch's    AlmanacR    for    1913. 


If  it's  cold  in  December 
Complain  to  your  Member; 
He  'II  see  to  it !  Ijor' !     • 
It 's  what  Parliament 's  for. 


VII.— THE  COMING  YEAR. 
And  now   (lie   Seer   approaches  the 
dread  question,  "What  does  1913  hold 
in  store  for  England  ?  "   Here  our  ;u  ( ist 
IMS  depicted  allegoric- 
ally   the  coming  year. 
How  shall  we  interpret 
it  ?    Ah  ! 

In  the  left  we  see  that 
the  historic  Houses  of 
Parliament  have  been 
blown  up  by  gun- 
powder. Does  this  in- 
dicate that  a  modem 
(IriDo  FAI-X  is  plotting 
in  our  midst?  Or 
merely  that  bitter  dis- 
cussions will  rend  the 
House  of  Commons  in 
twain?  Let  us  hope  the 
latter.  'Yet  whatever 
happens  we  are  glad  to 
see  England  and  Fi  ance 
sitting  in  amity  side  by 
side;  evidently  the 
entente  cordiale  is  to 
remain  a  feature  of  the 
coining  year.  But  why  does  Capital 
(represented  by  the  gentleman  in  the 
top  hat)  hold  up  the  approaching 
train  ?  It  almost  seems  that  the  motive 
power  of  1913  is  to  be  electricity. 

But  what  do  we  see  now  ?    Germany 
about  to  pull  the  tail  of  the  sleeping 
lion !    Britain  must  wake  up   or  she 
will  become  even  as  the  snail — such 
evidently  is  the  message  of  the  stars. 
Meanwhile  the  Turk  and  the  Christian 
(depicted    by   a   silly  mistake  of   the 
artist's  as  a  Hindoo)  are 
playing  cards  with  Death 
as  onlooker.  This  seems  to 
foretell  War  in  the  Balkans 
at  no  distant  date.  But  not 
only  in  the  Near  East  will 
there  be  unrest,  for  China 
is    on   the    warpath   too, 
while   in  the  background 
some  naval  affair  appears 
to  be  in  progress.    Plainly 
this  will  be  a  depressed  year 
for  the  Stock    Exchange. 
Yet  the  Seer  is  not  alto- 
gether despondent  of  the 
future.    The  position    of 
John  Bull  in  the  centre  of  the  picture  in- 
dicates that  it  will  be  a  good  year  for 
bade,  while  the  drilling  of  civilians  in 
the  background   may  even  bo  a  sign 
that  at  last  we  are  beginning  to  take  our 
responsibilities  seriously  and   embark 
upon  Universal  Military  Training.     On 
the  other  hand  it   may  indicate  Civil 
War   in   Ireland.    The  stars   and   the 


artist  are 
point 


not   quite    clear   upon    this 


Finally  we  have  the  awful  figure  with 
drawn  sword  in  hand  hovering  over  the 
scene.  What  terrible  calamity  does 
this  portend  ?  Socialism  ? — the  break- 
up of  the  Empire  ? — a  peerage  for  a 
well-known  financier? — a  scandal  in 
high-life  ?  Or  is  it  merely  a  fanciful 
creation  of  the  artist's  to  give  balance 


position  in  the  heavens.  When  the 
moon  is  not  only  full  but  also  directly 
overhead  it  will-  exert  its  maximum 
northward  pull  upon  anything  which 
you  have  planted.  On  the  other  hand, 
in  the  absence  of  a  moon  there  is 
nothing  whatever  to  drag  the  heads  of 
your  tulips  above  the  soil,  and  for  all 
your  guests  see  of  them  they  might 
never  have  been  planted.  Try  this  ex- 
periment and  convince 
yourself  of  .the  truth  of 
this.  Take  a  handful  of 
walnuts  and  sow  them 
ii ',  the  full  of  the  moon 
in  good  moist  soil.  Sow 
another  handful  in  the 
sa'iie  soil  on  the  wane 
of  the  moon.  Will  the 
second  handful  come 
up  ?  No. 


"1913." 

to  the  picture  ?  The  stars — usually  so 
communicative — have  nothing  to  say 
upon  this  point.  Let  us  leave  this  dire 
portent  and  fix  our  last  thoughts  in- 
stead upon  the  cow  in  the  top  right- 
hand  comer.  1913  will  be  pre-eminently 
a  good  year  for  milk. 


It  is  a  relief  to  turn  from  these  dread 
matters  to  more  homely  questions. 
The  Seer  cheerfully  resumes  his  Guide 
and  Vade-mecum  with  his  long-awaited 

VIII.— TIDE  TABLE. 


IIlCII   TIDE  AT  SOI'THKND,  APP.II,   ]gl,    1913. 
Stock  Exchange  Dull. 

DC— GUIDE  TO  THE    BEST  TIME   FOR 

PLANTING. 

The  influence  of  the  moon  on  grow- 
ing plants  is  now  generally  recognised. 


_jw   J  —  ^"J    *****vg**AOO**« 

Ihe  reason  is  that  the  moon  exerts  an 
attractive  force  which  varies  with  its 


Stock  Exchange  Dull. 

X.— ANTIDOTES  FOR 
POISONS. 

Poisox.  ANTIDOTE. 

l.'ad  Sulphuric  Arid. 

A'tiralc  of  Silver  PlentyofSaJt 

WiltlT.        '       > 

Oplutit.  Stomach  Primp. 

fitciotdRhvbarl)  Artificial  tvspira- 
tton  and  bleeding. 
Red  Ink  Milk.        .    , 

It  sometimes  hap- 
pens, however,  that 
the  patient  swallows  the  antidote  first, 
and  then  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to 
give  him  the  poison.  In  the  case,  how- 
ever, of  anyone  who  swallowed  a  stomach 
pump  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  to 
bring  him  round  with  opium. 

Stock  Exchange  Dull. 

XI.— A  FEW  HOUSEHOLD  HINTS. 
To  remove  moth  from  a  fur-coat,  paint 

the  coat  with  a  solution  one  part  treacle 
and  three  parts  brandy, 
and  place  it  on  the  lawn 
at  nightfall.  An  hour 
later,  arm  yourself  with  a 
bull's-eye  lantern  and  a 
butterfly  net  and  go  out 
in  pursuit  of  the  moths — 
many  hundreds  of  which 
will  be  found  to  have  col- 
lected on  the  coat.  When 
captured  they  should  be 
placed  in  your  killing 
bottle,  and  transferred  at 
leisure  afterwards  to  your 
collecting  box. 
A  boot  or  shoe  that 

pinches  should  be  smacked  and  stood  in 

the  corner  until  bed-time.      This  will 

cure  it  of  the  habit. 

To  soften  the  head  hold  it  in  boiling 

water  for  three  hours  every  day.      ; 
A  disused  compass  cannot  be  put  to 

any  other  practicable  use. 

Stock  Exchange  Dull. 


Punch's    AlmanacK    for    1913. 


Lady.  "I  THINK  YOU  'D  BETTER  GO  TO  ONE  OP  THE  HOUSES  AND  ASK  THEM  WHEBE  WE  ABE?" 
Ca'iby.  "Loa1  BLESS  YEB,  MUM,  TBEY  WON'T  KNOW!" 


XII.— PALMISTRY. 


regular    time  -  tables    due 
break-downs  on  the  line. 
d.  Saturdays  Only. 


to 


The  art  of  palmistry,  to  which  our 
ancestors  attached  considerable  im- 
portance, is  sufficiently  explained  in  the 
above  diagram.  The  seer  is  not  re- 
sponsible for  any  departure  from  the 


Stock  Exchange  Dull. 

Mr.  Punch  now  begs  to  take 
leave  of  his  readers.  Owing 
to  pressure  on  space  and  the 
occultation  of  Aries  upon  Mer- 
cury, he  has  been  compelled  to 
withhold  information  on  divers 
matters ;  the  following  being 
among  the  sections  omitted ; — 
Table  for  Estimating  Stand- 
ing Crops. 

What  a  Horse  can  do. 
Architecture. 
Etiquette  of  Mourning. 
How  to  make  a  Hundred  at 
Billiards. 

The  Influence  of  the  Stars 
on  Modern  Thought. 

Growth     of    the     National 
Debt. 

Twelve    Eules    for    Saving 
Life  at  Sea 

and 

Approximate  Table  for  En- 
dowment Policies  per  £100  insured. 

Nevertheless  he  is  convinced  that 
ho  has  added  to  the  sum  of  human 
knowledge,  and  that  he  has  ensured 
the  happiness  of  his  readers  in  the 


coming  year.     With  a  final  warning  to 
Vegetarians,  the  Bald,  and  Players  of 


THE  RlQHT  TIME   FOB   PLANTING 

(see  SECT.  IX.). 

Badminton  to  beware  the  moath  of 
February,  tho  Soer  makes  his  bow. 
Vaktc  !  A.  A.  M. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


A   l.KADIV;   MOTOR  JOURNAL  8CGOEBT8  THAT  SOME  SYSTEM  OF  SIGNALLING    MIGHT    BB    ADOPTED  AT  IMPOKTANT  POINTS   ON  OUR  JIAIN 
THOROUGHFARES  FOB  THE  BETTEB  REGULATION  OF  TBAFFIC. 

liR.  PCKCa  OFFEES  A  FANCY  PICTURE  OF  HYDE  PARK  CORNER  ABOUT  THE  YEAR   1019. 


A   CENTENARY    OF    PROGRESS. 


(Trousers  were  first 

A  HUNDRED  years  ago.     It  is  not  mine 
To  sing,  as  others  of  my  species  may, 

Of  some  high  beacon  that  arose  to  shine 
And  dazzle  future  history.     Truth  to  say, 

Historical  research  is  not  my  line, 
Nor  do  I  need  it.     My  superior  lay 

Thrills  to  no  great  fight  won  or  great  king  born— 

I  sing  the  year  when  trousers  first  were  worn. 

Small  chance,  until  this  great  refreshment  came, 
Had  any  man.     Whate'er  his  views  might  be, 

The  bifurcations  on  his  nether  frame 

Ended  too  surely  somewhere  near  the  knee. 

Whether  he  had  a  soul  attuned  to  shame, 
Or  one  from  such  refinement  nobly  free, 

He  must  betray,  to  women  and  to  men, 

His  utmost  self.     'Twas  legs  or  nothing  then. 

But  all   was   changed.     And   meagre  man   could 
hide 

His  spindly  weakness  from  the  vulgar's  chaff, 
While  even  he  who  took  a  buxom  pride 

In  the  orbed  turning  of  a  conscious  calf 
Saw  a  new  comfort  not  to  be  denied 

In  this  strange  gear ;  and,  having  come  to  laugh, 
.Remained  to  don,  and  won  by  slow  degrees 
A  nascent  modesty  with  this  new  ease. 


introduced  a  Imndred  years  ago.) 

And  thus  it  chanced  that,  where  the  spell  was  cast, 
Virtues  beyond  mere  coyness  grew  apace — 

For  out  of  one  come  many — till  at  last 
A  .wide  urbanity  assumed  the  place 

Of  the  swashbuckling  swagger  of  the  past ; 

The  West  grew  kindlier ;  and  each  trousered  race, 

Full  of  new  worth,  looks  back,  and  finds  it  grow 

From  that  great  change,  a  hundred  years  ago. 

And  thou,  0  nameless  One,  that  didst  invent 
These  gentle  togs,  to  be  for  future  days 

A  tool  of  Progress  and  an  instrument 

Of  Peace,  accept  our  full  centennial  praise. 

Nor  does  the  poet  grudge  the  time  he  's  spent 
On  this  his  ode  (providing  someone  pays) 

In  memory  of  him  who  wrought  this  boon, 

Which  still  endures,  and  shall  not  wither  soon. 

A  hundred  years.     It  seems  how  long  to  us ; 

And  yet  what  is  it  in  the  cosmic  view  ? 
A  fleeting  penn'orth  on  an  pld-world  'bus  ; 

And  we  ourselves,  how  paltry  and  how  new  ! 
It  would  be  well  to  shun  vainglorious  fuss, 

And  ponder,  while  these  garments  we  indue, 
How,  in  the  immemorial  Eastern  clime, 
Women  have  worn  them  from  the  birth  of  Time. 

DUM-DUM. 


Punch's    Almanack    for    1913. 


FANCY     AND     FACT. 

(The  Dangers  of  Hunting.) 


AS  GATUEIIED  BY  NOX-HUNTINO  WIVES  FROM  THE  AFTER-DINNER   CONVERSATION   OF   SPORTSMEN. 


AS   MUCH  MORE  OFTEN  OBSERVED. 


- 

Punch's    AlmanacK    for     1913. 


VI 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


PAVING    STONES    FOR  -    — . 

THIS  year  I  am  going  to  be  very 
circumspect  and  sensible.  I  have  made 
;up  my  mind  to  leave  off  many  old 
habits.  Let  us  not  speak  of  "  good  reso- 
lutions," because  they  carry  breakage 
with  them ;  let  us  call  them  wise 
resolves  and  give  them  a  chance;  or 
we  might  go  even  farther  and  call  them 
hopeless  endeavours,  and  then  perhaps 
much  would  result,  for  this  is  a  world  of 
surprises.  ' 

My  first  resolve  will  be  to  get  in  first 
with  the  phrase,  "  A  happy  New  Year." 
I  have  never  done  this  yet;  it  has 
al ways -been  left  to  me  to  mako  the 
trite  rejoinder,  " Same  to  you,  and  many 
nf  thorn."  But  this  year  I  will  be  first. 

I  will  give  up  being  imitative  and 
secondary  in  other  ways,  too.  I  will  be 
more  original.  I  will  make  a  start  by 
taking  Yorkshire  pudding  with  mutton. 


I  will  get  up  earlier. 

I  will  be  punctual  for  breakfast. 

I  will  remember  that  champagne 
doesn't  always  agree  with  me. 

I  shall,  of  course,  go  on  playing  golf 
every  day  of  the  year,  because  I'  believe 
that  only  thus  can  England  maintain 
her  greatness ;  but  I  hereby  resolve  to 
have  more  pity  on  those  who  do  not 
play  it  and  never  talk  of  the  game  in 
their  company. 

•  I  will  read  a  chapter  of  some  good 
author  every  night  before  going  to 
sleep. 

I  noticed  now  and  then  in  1912  a 
tendency  on  the  part  of  my  friends  to 
tell  me  the  same  story  twice  or  even 
thrice.  This  is  a  serious  danger  and 
I  must  myself  be  on  guard  against  it. 
I  have  therefore  bought  a  little  Where 
is  it  ?  and  have  written  the  names  of 
the  best  stories  in  my  repertory  on  the 
top  of  each  page.  This  year  I  mean  to 


write  underneath  them  the  names  of  all 
the  persons  to  whom  I  tell  them,  and 
thus  I  can  avoid  repetition. 

I  will  weed  out  and  send  back  all 
the  books  I  have  borrowed.  I  will 
send  round  a  note  asking  for  mine. 

I  will  never  lend  any  more  books. 

I  will  be  stronger.  I  will  withhold 
tips  from  waiters,  taxi-drivers  and  so 
forth  who  have  not  been  attentive  and 
capable.  I  will  tip  only  the  deserving. 

I  will  make  that  long-deferred  list  of 
the  things  I  want  in  my  bag,  and  so 
for  ever  cease  to  forget  the  strop. 

I  will  answer  letters  the  same  day. 

P.S.— I  don't  think. 


"  Messrs.  have   discovered  a  Van   dj 

Velde  painting  in  making  a  valuation  for 
insurance,  and  have  privately  disposed  of  it 
lor  nearly  £1,000."— Daily  Mirror. 

But  oughtn't  they  to  have  told  the 
owner  about  it  ? 


\  n  1 . .    1   X  I .  I  V . 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[JANUAHY  1,  1913. 


CHARIVARIA. 

•  IT  was  interesting  to  note  that,  when 
the  newspapers  reappeared  on  Boxing 
Day,  after  their  Christinas  holiday,  the 
news  had  also  played  the  game.  There 
was  none.  $  * 

3 

"  A  CHRISTMAS  GABLAND.  Woven  by 
Max  Beerbohm  (2nd  Imp)."  Thus  an 
advertisement.  We  don't  know  who  is 
playing  First  Imp,  but  he  must  be  a 
very  clever  man.  ^  ^ 
* 

The  rank  of  Captain  having  been 
bestowed  on  the  Elder  Brethren  of 
Trinity  House,  Mr.  ASQUITH  is  now 
entitled  to  that  appellation.  To  avoid 
misconception  as  to  their  relative  posi- 
tions, Mr.  REDMOND,  it  is  said,  intends 
to  insist  on  being  made  a  Major. 

S:     :;: 

A  play  by  Lady  LEVEB,  entitled 
The  Insurance  Act,  was  performed  the 
other  night  at  the  North  Camberwell 
Eadical  Club.  From  the  title  we 
imagine  the  play  to  be  a  comedy. 

*  * 
* 

In  the  new  issue  of  the  Post  Office 
Directory  a  Birch  Rod  Maker  advertises 
his  abode,  and  he  is  said  to  be  annoyed 
with  one  of  the  daily  papers  for  draw- 
ing attention  to  the  fact.  Crowds  of 
small  boys,  according  to  our  informa- 
tion, are  threatening  to  surround  the 
house,  and  police  protection  may  be 
inecessary.  ...  ... 

i  We  are  sorry  to  hear  that,  as  a  result 
6f  over  one  million  persons  having 
visited  the  Zoo  this  year,  some  of  the 
inmates  are  showing  signs  of  conceit. 
The  Wart  Hog  is  said  to  have  petitioned 
for  a  looking-glass. 

*  •:•• 

At  Corbeil,  France,  last  week,  in  the 
course  of  a  trial,  the  judge  boxed  the 
ears  of  counsel.  This  is  .very  seldom 
done  over  here,  where  our  judges  have 
other  methods  of  raising  "laughter  in 
court."  ,..  ... 

*^ 

The  Standard  published  as  a  supple- 
ment the  other  day : — 

" ITALY 
Edited  by  Reginald  Harris. ' ' 

Look  out  shortly  for  : — • 

.     TURKEY        ; 
Edited  by  the  Conference  of  London. 

:- 

From   New  York  comes  the  news 
that  the  Copper  King  has  been  divorced. 
These  scandals  in  royal  families   are 
becoming  too  frequent. 
*J* 

"The  claims  of  the  married  blue- 
jacket for  better  treatment,"  says  The 
Express,  "are  discussed  in '  O.H.M.S.'  " 


We  trust  that  Bailors'  wives,  whom  we 
had  never  suspected  of  peculiar  asperity, 

will  take  note  of  this. 

-.;:   ••'.•- 

"There  are  evidences,"  says  Mr. 
FREDERICK  ENOCH,  "  which  show  that 
caterpillars  have  profound  intellects." 
It  seems  a  pity  that  they  sbould  after- 
wards be  content  with  a  mere  butterfly 
existence.  ,.;  ..;; 

A  scarcity  of  cows  is  reported  from 
some  parts  of  the  country.  It  is  thought 
that  this  may  lead  to  the  motor- bus 
companies  once  more  devoting  their 
attention  to  the  evolution  of  a  satisfac- 
tory cow-catcher. 

Some  individuals  at  Hanover,  who 
call  themselves  Terraphages,  have 
pledged  themselves  to  eat  nothing  but 
earth.  Now  that  the  motor  traffic  so 
frequently  makes  us  bite  the  dust,  the 
accomplishment  seems  scarcely  worth 
making  so  much  fuss  about. 

* ' 

"  Alvin  Hornberger,  who  was  wanted 
for  passing  forged  notes,  was  traced 
by  the  marks  of  his  false  teeth  in  an 
unfinished  cheese -sandwich."  Guess 
where  this  happened.  "  America  ?  " 
Right!  

CHARACTER -AND -DESTINY  CHATS. 

By  SYBIL. 

"  ROSEBUD."  —  Dear  little  eighteen- 
year-old  City  Typist,  yours  is  the 
sunny  nature  for  which  a  sunny  future 
seems  assured.  I  have  nothing  but 
good  news  for  you.  If  all  be  well,  you 
will  be  very  happy.  The  crystal  tells 
me  that  at  no  very  distant  date  your 
fate  seems  likely  to  be  linked  with  that 
of  another,  but  as  to  whether  that 
other  is  the  fair,  curly-haired  young 
man  who  travels  with  you  every 
morning  by  the  Shepherd's  Bush  Tube, 
or  the  dark  young  man  who  chatted 
with  you  on  the  top  of  a  motor-bus, 
Isis  is  silent.  (Would  you  like  me  to 
consult  the  Black  Bowl  of  Buddha  on 
this  point?  For  this,  with  the  extra 
psychic  force  required,  I  should  have 
to  charge  £1  10s.) 

"  PHCEBE." — He  may  be  all  you 
think  him,  or  even  all  you  think  you 
think  him.  Go  bravely  forward.  When 
the  clouds  roll  away  from  your  horizon, 
the  sky  will  be  clear.  The  lock  of  hair 
you  send  lias  had  a  stain  applied  to  it 
and  has  been  acquainted  with  a  well- 
known  curler,  all  of  which  shows  you 
to  be  of  a  hopeful,  courageous  disposi- 
tion, determined  to  make  the  best  of 
things.  If  there  were  more  such  women 
as  you,  there  would  be  fewer  of  other 
kinds !  (My  fee  for  an  ordinary  reading 
is  £1  Is.,  not  £1.) 


"  PREVIOUS  EXISTENCE." — Yes,  cer- 
tainly I  can,  after  some  little  concen- 
tration and  preparation,  take  you  back 
through  all  your  previous  incarnations. 
The  fee  is  progressive,  starting  at 
£1  Is.,  and  doubling  with  each  previous 
individuation.  (From  what  I  can  sense, 
through  your  letter  and  the  lock  of 
hair,  I  should  say  some  of  your  former 
existences  have  been  of  a  thrilling  and 
extraordinary  kind !) 

"  ANXIOUS." — I  have  looked  into  your 
future  with  special  reference  to  the 
letter  you  would  be  so  glad  to  receive. 
Yes,  I  have  seen  a  letter  for  you,  but 
as  the  flap  of  the  envelope  was  towards 
me,  I  cannot  say  what  sort  of  hand  the 
address  was  written  in. 

"  LOBNA." — You  are  apparently  quite 
justified  in  all  you  think  of  yourself. 
You  seem  indeed  to  have  every  gift, 
physical  and  mental.  Use  your  powers 
of  fascination  gently.  Do  not  break 
hearts  and  desolate  lives.  Your  hand- 
writing is  very  characteristic  and  dis- 
tinctive (there  are  two  p's  in  appear), 
and  the  lock  of  hair  is  of  the  rarest 
shade  of  chestnut.  For  such  a  subject 
as  yourself,  to  whom  a  singular,  per- 
haps dazzling,  destiny  seems  coming, 
the  crystal  and  even  the  Black  Bowl  of 
Buddha  are  scarcely  adequate.  You 
had  better  let  me  consult  the  stars. 
(My  fee  for  this,  taking  into  considera- 
tion the  strain  on  the  eyes  and  on  the 
psychic  faculties  and  the  risk  of  taking 
cold,  is  £2  2s.). 

"AMBITIOUS." — There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  you  are  fitted  for  something  even 
higher  than  to  be  a  social  leader  in 
the  Garden  Suburb,  Popplewell  Green. 
You  wish  to  know  if  in  the  coming 
time  you  will  realise  your  ambition  and 
"  get  into  really  good  society."  I  have 
looked  into  the  golden  mists  of  your 
future,  and  I  have  seen  faintly  adum- 
brated the  form  of  a  woman  robed  in 
satin  and  adorned  with  gems  receiving 
crowds  of  well-dressed  and  evidently 
high-born  guests;  but  whether  that 
woman  is  yourself,  time  alone  will 
show!  (All  postal  orders  sent  me 
should  be  crossed.) 

"  JUST  A  LARK." — You  say,  in  your 
own  deplorable  phrase,  that  you  were 
"  getting  at  "  me,  that  all  your  state- 
ments were  false,  and  that  the  lock  of 
hair  sent  was  cut  from  a  pet  dog. 
Such  conduct  is  beneath  contempt. 
Since  receiving  this  second  communi- 
cation I  have  again  looked  into  your 
future.  I  should  be  sorry  to  tell  even 
such  a  person  as  you  what  I  have 
seen. 

"INQUISITIVE." — No,  I  know  nothing 
of  the  methods  of  Rooli-Tooti-Lal,  the 
Indian  mystic,  whose  Psychic  Parlour 
in  Edgware  Road  was  closed  by  the 
police. 


PUNCH.  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  I,  1913. 


BY    FAVOUK    OF    THE    ENEMY. 

CAPTAIN  ASQUITH  (observing  from  battlements  a  difference  of  opinion  in  the  ranks  of  Hie  besieging  army). 
IF   THIS    GOES    ON    WE    OUGHT    TO    HAVE    A  CHANCE    OP    BE-VICTUALLING." 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


CLARIFYING  COMMENTS. 

By  TIBERIUS  MUDD. 
I  MUST  offer  my  heartiest  con- 
gratulations to  The,  Skittish  Weekly  on 
its  2,000th  number.  The  proprietors 
of  this  admirable  journal  have  always 
been  true  to  the  main  aim  they  set 
before  themselves  at  the  outset — to 
combine  spirituality  with  "snap,"  the 
higher  criticism  with  the  personal 
note.  Amongst  those  who  at  one  time 
or  another  have  enriched  its  pages  by 
their  contributions  are  Lord  Soper,  Sir 
Jenery  Bunn,  Sir  Gulliver  Stodge,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Inigo  Slobb,  the  Countess 
Schunck,  Mrs.  Chillingham  Cattley, 
and  Professor  Folsoin  Ould,  whose 
"one  minute  sertnonettes "  have  been 
such  an  alluring  item  in  The  Skittish 
Weekly  for  the  last  few  years.  I  rejoice 
to  think  that  the  unimpaired  vitality  of 
this  splendid  periodical  will  be  mani- 
fested in  a  number  of  new  and  un- 
precedented features  during  the  forth- 
coming year,  notably  comic  obituary 
notices  of  authors  who  are  still  alive ; 
accounts  of  the  wardrobes  of  Dr. 
JOHNSON,  COLERIDGE,  KEATS,  G.  B. 
SHAW  and  JOHN  GALSWORTHY  ;  and  a 
series  of  autobiographical  sketches 
under  the  attractive  caption,  "  How  I 
got  my  Peerage." 

Great  interest  is  excited  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  impending  publica- 
tion of  a  new  religious  weekly  paper  to 
be  called  Balm.  The  new  venture, 
which  will  be  published  by  the  Din- 
widdies,  will  cater  not  only  for  the 
spiritual  but  the  literary  needs  of 
members  of  the  Free  Churches  and 
will  be  edited  by  the  Rev.  Chadwick 
Bandman,  pastor  of  Zion  Church, 
Stoke-under-Ham.  Mr.  Bandman,  who 
was  recently  presented  with  a  roller-top 
desk  and  a  complete  canteen  of  cutlery 
and  silver  by  his  congregation  on  the 
occasion  of  his  marriage  to  Miss 
Hephzibah  Muxloe,  daughter  of  Dr. 
Minsey  Muxloe,  is  a  richly  persuasive 
preacher.  Not  long  ago,  while  attend- 
ing Zion  Church,  I  saw  the  wife  of  a 
Cabinet  Minister  in  a  front  pew,  wear- 
ing the  most  beautiful  furs,  and  irre- 
proachably gowned  in  other  respects. 


I  have  been  considerably  impressed 
by  the  brilliancy  of  recent  issues  of 
The  Bludgeon.  For  some  time  past  one 
felt  that  literature  was  suffering  from 
the  unduly  lax  and  conciliatory  tone 
adopted  by  our  leading  journals  in  their 
literary  criticisms.  This  tendency  has 
found  an  admirable  corrective  in  the 
splendid  articles  of  the  editor,  Mr.  Ixie 
Dipsett,  who  now  intends  to  add  a  new 
feature  to  his  paper  under  the  arresting 
title  of  "  The  Gibbet,"  where  "  the 


^ 


Lady  (to  Messrs.  Cook's  official).  "I  HAVE  NOTHING  TO  DECLARE.     WHAT  SHALL  I  BAY?" 
Official.  "SAY,  MADAM,  THAT  YOU  HAVE  NOTHING  TO  DECLABE." 
Lady.  "YES;   BUT  SUPPOSE  THEY  FIND  SOMETHING?" 


worst  book  of  the  week  "  will  be  faith- 
fully dealt  with.  I  understand  that  the 
staff  of  the  paper  has  recently  been 
reinforced  by  the  accession  of  that 
trenchant  young  publicist,  Mr.  Under- 
wood Cutts,  whom  I  recently  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  at  the  hospitable 
board  of  my  old  friend,  Dr.  Doyly 
Springett.  Mr.  Cutts's  novel,  Lethal 
Love,  published  by  the  Dodders,  is 
certainly  a  very  startling  work.  I  hear 
that  the  CHANCELLOR  OP  THE  EX- 
CHEQUER read  it  through  at  a  sitting 
on  a  recent  week-end  visit  to  Criccieth. 


The  weekly  prize  of  5s.,  or  a  copy  of 
the  Rev.  Offley  Bolsover's  Soul  Food, 
for  the  best  paragraph  contributed  to 
this  column,  has  been  awarded  to  the 
author  of  the  communication  relating 
to  Balm.  For  the  ensuing  week  the 
prize  will  be  awarded  to  the  writer  of 
the  ten  best  rhymes  on  the  model  of  the 
head-lines  in  a  recent  number  of  The 
Pall  Mall  Gazette :  "  Can  you  name  a 


Kitten?  By  Wilfred  Whitten."  As 
examples  for  the  use  of  competitors  I 
give  "The  Outrage  in  Delhi.  By  MARIE 
COHELLI  "  ;  "  Chatter  about  Jane  Porter. 
By  C.  K.  SHORTER";  and  "Are  Dis- 
senters Fickle?  By  Sir  ROBERTSON 
NICOLL." 


I  cannot  better  close  this  week's 
Comments  than  by  printing  a  letter 
handed  on  to  me  by  the  Editor. 

TIBERIUS  MUDD. 

DEAR  SIR, — It  is  with  the  most  un- 
feigned delight  that  I  see  we  are  going 
to  have  a  serial  by  Tiberius  Mudd, 
entitled  "  The  Cure  of  Souls."  If  there 
is  an  author  whose  works  I  admire  it  is 
he.  They  are  so  clean,  soul-shaking 
and  winsome. 

Yours  faithfully,         X.  Y.  Z. 

What  to  do  with  our  Bishops. 

"  Bishop  of  St.  John  is  Concentrated." 
Manitoba  Free  Press. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1913. 


MORE   SUCCESSFUL   LIVES. 

VI. — THE  COLLECTOR. 
WHEN  Peter  Plimsoll,  tho  Glue  King, 
died,  his  parting  advice  to  his  sons  tc 
stick  to  the  business  was  follows 
only  by  John,  the  elder.  Adrian,  the 
younger,  had  a  soul  above  adhesion 
He  disposed  of  his  share  in  the  concern 
and  settled  down  to  follow  the  life  of  a 
gentleman  of  taste  and  culture  ant 
(more  particularly)  patron  of  the  arts 
Ho  began  in  a  modest  way  by  collect- 
ing ink-pots.  His  range  at  first  wa, 
catholic,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had 
acquired  a  hundred  and  forty-seven 
ink-pots  of  various  designs  that  he 
decided  to  make  a  speciality  of  historic 
ones.  This  decision  was  hastened 
by  the  discovery  that  one  of  QUEEN 
ELIZABETH'S  inkstands — supposed  (by 
the  owner)  to  be  the  identical  one  with 
whose  aid  she  wrote  her  last  letter  to 
BALEIGH — was  about  to  be  put  on  the 
market.  At  some  expense  Adrian  ob- 
tained an  introduction,  through  a  third 
party,  to  the  owner;  at  more  expense 
the  owner  obtained,  through  the  same 
gentleman,  an  introduction  to  Adrian  ; 
and  in  less  than  a  month  the  great 
Elizabeth  Ink-pot  was  safely  esta- 
blished in  Adrian's  house.  It  was  the 
beginning  of  the  "  Plimsoll  Collection. 

This  was  twenty  years  ago.  Let  us 
to-day  take  a  walk  through  the  gal- 
leries of  Mr.  Adrian  Plimsoll's  charming 
residence,  which,  as  the  world  knows, 
overlooks  the  pirk.  Any  friend  of  mine 
is  always  welcome  at  Number  Fifteen. 
We  will  start  with  the  North  Gallery ; 
I  fear  that  I  shall  only  have  time  to 
point  out  a  few  of  the  choicest  gems. 

This  is  a  Pontesiori  sword  of  the 
thirteenth  century — the  only  example 
of  the  master's  art  without  any  notches. 
On  the  left  is  a  Capricci  comfit-box. 
If  you  have  never  heard  of  Capricci, 
you  oughtn't  to  come  to  a  house  like 
this. 

Here  we  have  before  us  the  historic 
de  Montigny  topaz.  Ask  your  little  boy 
to  tell  you  about  it. 

In  the  East  Gallery,  of  course,  the 
chief  treasure  is  the  Santo  di  Santo 
amulet,  described  so  minutely  in  his 
Vindicia  Veritatis  by  John  of  Flanders. 
The  original  MS.  of  this  book  is  in 
the  South  Gallery.  You  must  glance 
at  it  when  we  get  there.  It  will  save 
you  the  trouble  of  ordering  a  copy 
from  your  library ;  they  would  be  sure 
to  keep  you  waiting.  .  .  . 

With  some  such  words  as  these  I 
lead  my  friends  round  Number  Fifteen. 
The  many  treasures  in  the  private  parts 
of  the  house  I  may  not  show,  of  course ; 
the  bathroom,  for  instance,  in  which 
hangs  the  finest  collection  of  portraits 
of  philatelists  that  Europe  can  boast. 


You  must  spend  a  night  with  Adrian  to 
be  admitted  to  their  company;  and,  as 
one  of  the  elect,  I  can  assure  you  tha 
nothing  can  be  more  stimulating  on  a 
winter's  morning  than  to  catch  the  eye 
of  Frisby  Dranger,  F.Pli.S.,  behinc" 
the  taps  as  your  head  first  emerges 
from  the  icy  waters. 

-:;•  •::•  -::-  -"•  -"• 

Adrian  Plimsoll  sat  at  breakfast,  sip 
ping  his  hot  water  and  crumbling  a 
dry  biscuit.  A  light  was  in  his  eye,  a 
flush  upon  his  pallid  countenance.  He 
had  just  heard  from  a  trusty  agent  that 
the  Scutori  breast-plate  had  been  seen 
in  Devonshire.  His  car  was  ready  to 
take  him  to  the  station. 

But  alas  !  a  disappointment  awaited 
him.  On  close  examination  the  breast- 
plate turned  out  to  be  acommon  Risoldo 
of  inferior  working.  Adrian  left  the 
house  in  disgust  and  started  on  his 
seven-mile  walk  back  to  the  station. 
To  complete  his  misery  a  sudden  storm 
came  on.  Cursing  alternately  his  agent 
and  Eisoldo,  he  made  his  way  to  a 
cottage  and  asked  for  shelter. 

An  old  woman  greeted  him  civilly 
and  bade  him  come  in. 

"  If  I  may  just  wait  till  the  storm  is 
over,"  said  Adrian,  and  he  sat  down  in 
her  parlour  and  looked  appraisingly 
(as  was  his  habit)  round  the  room.  The 
grandfather  clock  in  the  corner  was 
genuine,  but  he  was  beyond  grandfather 
clocks.  There  was  nothing  else  of  any 
value  :  three  china  dogs  and  some  odd 
trinkets  on  the  chimney-piece  ;  a  print 
or  two 

Stay !  What  was  that  behind  the 
youngest  dog  ? 

"  May  I  look  at  that  old  bracelet  ?  " 
lie  asked,  his  voice  trembling  a  little ; 
and  without  waiting  for  permission  he 
walked  over  and  took  up  the  circle  of 
iarnished  metal  in  his  hands.  As  he 
sxamined  it  his  colour  came  and  went, 
nis  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating.  With 
a  .tremendous  effort  he  composed  him- 
self and  returned  to  his  chair. 

It  was  the  Emperor's  Bracelet ! 

Of  course  you  know  the  history  of 
this  most  famous  of  all  bracelets.  Made 
!>y  SPURIUS  QUINTUS  of  Eome  in 
47  B.C.,  it  was  given  by  C.ESAH  to  CLEO- 
PATRA, who  tried  without  success  to 
dissolve  it  in  vinegar.  Eeturning  to 
Eome  by  way  of  ANTONY,  it  was  worn 
at  a  minor  conflagration  by  NEKO,  after 
which  it  was  lost  sight  of  for  many 
centuries.  It  was  eventually  heard  of 
during  the  reign  of  CANUTE  (or  KNUT, 
as  his  admirers  called  him) ;  and  JOHN 
s  known  to  have  lost  it  in  the  Wash, 
whence  it  was  recovered  a  century  after- 
wards. It  must  have  travelled  thence 
.o  France,  for  it  was  seen  once  in  the 
wssession  of  Louis  XL;  and  from  there 
o  Spain,  for  PHILIP  THE  HANDSOME 


presented  it  to  JOANNA  on  her  wedding 
day.  COLUMHUS  took  it  to  America,  but 
fortunately  brought  it  back  again ; 
PKTKR  THE  GREAT  threw  it  at  an  in- 
different musician  ;  on  one  of  its  later 
visits  to  England  POPE  wrote  a  couplet 
to  it.  And  the  most  astonishing  tiling 
in  its  whole  history  was  that  now  for 
more  than  a  hundred  years  it  had 
vanished  completely.  To  turn  up  again 
in  a  little  Devonshire  cottage !  Verily 
truth  is  stranger  than  fiction. 

"  That 's  rather  a  curious  bracelet  of 
yours, "said  Adrian  casually.  "My — er 
— wife  has  one  just  like  it  which  she 
asked  me  to  match.  Is  it  an  old  friend, 
or  would  you  care  to  sell  it  ?  " 

"  My  mother  gave  it  me,"  said  the 
old  woman,  "  and  she  had  it  from  hers. 
I  don't  know  no  further  than  that.  I 
didn't  mean  to  sell  it,  but — 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Adrian,  "  and, 
after  all,  I  can  easily  get  another." 

"  But  I  won't  say  a  bit  of  money 
wouldn't  be  useful.  What  would  you 
think  a  fair  price,  Sir  ?  Five  shillings  ?  " 

Adrian's  heart  jumped.  To  get  the 
Emperor's  bracelet  for  five  shillings ! 

But  the  spirit  of  the  collector  rose 
up  strong  within  him.  He  laughed 
kindly. 

"  My  good  woman,"  he  said,  "  they 
iurn  out  bracelets  like  that  in  Birming- 
ham at  two  shillings  apiece.  And  quite 
new.  I  '11  give  you  tenpence." 

"Make  it  one  -  and  -  sixpence,"  she 
pleaded.  "  Times  are  hard." 

Adrian  reflected.  He  was  not, 
strictly  speaking,  impoverished.  He 
could  afford  one-and-sixpence. 

"  One-and-tuppence,"  he  said. 

"  No,  no,  one-and-sixpence,"  she  re- 
peated obstinately. 

Adrian  reflected  again.  After  all,  he 
could  always  sell  it  for  ten  thousand 
pounds,  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  sighed.  "  One-and- 
sixpence  let  it  be." 

fie  counted  out  the  money  carefully. 
Then,  putting  the  precious  bracelet  in 
lis  pocket,  he  rose  to  go. 


Adrian  has  no  relations  living  now. 
When  he  dies  he  proposes  to  leave 
;he  Plimsoll  Collection  to  the  nation, 
laving — as  far  as  he  can  foresee — no 
)articular  use  for  it  in  the  next  world. 
This  is  really  very  generous  of  him, 
and  no  doubt,  when  the  time  comes,  the 
papers  will  say  so.  But  it  is  a  pity  that 
cannot  be  appreciated  properly  in 
lis  lifetime.  Personally  I  should  like 

see  him  knighted.  A.  A.  M. 

Wanted  from  3  to  500  acres  of  land  for 
hooting." — Adrt.  in  "East  Anglian  Times." 

Je  should  get  the  three  acres  anyway. 
'Three  acres  and  a  pheasant"  is  the 
birthright  of  every  British  sportsman. 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


Energetic  Mother.  "WHAT  A  LAZY  EON  I  " 

Honald.  "On,  I  BAY,  REALLY,  MOTHEB!     HANO  IT  ALL  I     CAN'T  A  FELLOW  LIE  ON  THE  SOFA  FOB  TEN  MINUTES  WITHOUT  BEING 
SWORN  AT?" 


TO    THE    LOANERS    OF    LIGHT. 

(A  New  Year  Thanksgiving.) 

NOT  to  him,  to  the  lord  of  the  lyre,  to  Apollo, 
Who  leers  at  me  faintly  from  under  a  hood, 

Do  I  turn  me  this  morning.     A  reed  that  is  hollow  ! 
I  spurn,  I  renounce  him.    (Did  someone  say  "  Good  ?  " 

You  are  tired  of  Apollo,  the  praise  of  his  mercies, 
The  roll  of  his  titles  ?     You  can't  see  the  need 

Of  these  lengthy  preambles '?    You  think  to  be  terse  is — 

Dash  it  all,  my  good  Sir,  am  I  writing  these  verses 
Or  are  you  ?)     To  proceed : — 

1  was  saying  that  not  to  Apollo  the  master, 
I  turn  on  this  opening  morn  of  the  year; 

lie  hath  crumbled  away  like  an  idol  of  plaster, 

He  hath  hardly  been  with  ino  since  August  was  here ; 

Not  to  him  did  I  owe  it  to  light  or  to  warm  me 
As  up  to  Parnassus  I  measured  my  pace 

Through  the  wan  Autumn  days,  unremittingly  stormy, 

13ut  the  Borough ;  I  've  just  had  their  note  to  inform  me 
That  this  was  the  case. 

Very  godlike  and  fair  are  the  ways  of  the  Borough, 
They  dip  not  in  ocean  their  westering  feet, 

But  the  bard  is  dependent  on  them  for  a  thorough 
Supply  of  illuminant,  also  of  heat; 

If  I  sang  you  a  song  that  you  fancied  was  sweeter 
Than  others,  dear  reader,  they  swelled  the  perfume ; 

It  was  they  who  inspired  and  inspected  the  meter, 

It  was  they  who  installed  the  electrical  heater 
That  stands  in  my  room. 


0  star  that  lay  hidden  undreamt  of  for  seons ! 
O  fire  that  the  breadth  of  a  city  can  span ! 

0  power  that  was  puffed  not  aforetime  with  paeans, 
Whoso  prophet  and  priest  is  the  Council's  young  man ! 

He  tells  how  the  currents,  in  flashes  of  blue  knit, 

Have  lighted  the  minstrel  in  hours  that  are  gone, 
When  he  comes  to  that  box  with  a  lever  to  tune  it, 
And,  although  I  can't  think  what  he  means  by  a  unit, 
I  never  let  on. 

No  oracles  now  have  the  drinkers  of  nectar 

Who  rest  on  the  rainless  Olympian  hill, 
But  the  Borough  repeatedly  send  their  inspector 

(Who  flirts  with  Elizabeth),  also  their  bill ; 

1  turn  to  them,  therefore,  their  kindliness  wooing, 
And  thanking  them  much  for  their  boon  of  the  past, 

With  a  prayer  that  the  same  which  I  purpose  renewing 
May  cost  me  much  less  for  the  quarter  ensuing 

Tban  it  did  for  the  last.  EVOE. 


"Windows  with  Guards  can  be  loft  open  at  all  times  giving  a 
healthy,  sanitary  condition,  at  the  same  time  perfect  security  against 
Burglars  or  children  falling  out." — Adi:t. 

We  should  hate  to  think  of  a  burglar  falling  out  of  our 
window  and  hurting  himself. 

Thoughts  on  Christmas  Day,  1912. 
Why  doss  an  air  of  peace  and  pure  goodwill 

Breathe  o'er  the  turkey,  lap  the  brandied  plum, 
Like  to  a  Sabbath  morn's,  but  milder  still  ? 

Because  to-day  the  Party  Press  is  dumb  ! 

For  the  passing  of  a  Damp  Tear. 
Wring  out  the  Old,  ring  in  the  New. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1913. 


GREEN  JEALOUSY. 

MY  appetite  for  tea  had  been  miser 
ably  spoilt  by  my  having  to  listen  t 
the  virtues  of  a  model  young  ma 
whom  Josephine  and  her  mother  ha 
come  across  at  a  bazaar. 

Before  such  excellence  I  was  cowec 
into  silence.  However,  tea  at  las 
came  to  an  end,  and  her  mother  will 
exemplary  tact  had  found  an  excuse  t 
withdraw. 

"  I  will  leave  my  little  girl  to  amuse 
you,"  she  said  archly,  at  the  door. 

"  If  you  promise  not  to  tell,"  I  sai( 
to  mother's  little  girl  as  I  returned  to 
the  fireplace,  "  I  '11  have  that  last  pieo 
of  brown  bread-and-butter,    and    you 
can  have  another  cup  of  tea.     Shal 
wo?" 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  will  have  just  hal 
a  cup." 

"  That  makes  your  fourth,"   I  re 
minded  her.    "  To-morrow  you  '11  come 
out  in  spots  and  your  complexion  wil 
be  ruined.      Now  it 's   your  turn   to 
amuse,"  I  added.    "  Come,  amuse  me 
I  'm  waiting,  Josephine.     You  hearc 
what  your  mother  said.    You  know 
you  're  not  amusing  me  properly." 

But  in  the  end  it  was  bound  to  come 
to  it ;  I  had  to  provide  my  own  enter- 
tainment. 

"The  other  night  I  went  to  the 
Maxwells',"  I  observed  carelessly, 
settling  back  in  my  chair.  Josephine 
paused  with  her  cup  half-way  to  her 
mouth  and  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  never  went  to 
dances,"  she  said. 

"  I  don't,  as  a  rule."  I  slipped  down 
in  the  chair,  prepared  to  enjoy  myself, 
and,  crossing  my  legs,  gazed  wistfully 
up  at  the  ceiling.  "It  was  a  very 
nice  dance,"  I  added.  "  Won't  you 
drink  up  your  tea  ?  "  Josephine  buried 
her  face  in  it,  and  for  a  while  silence 
ensued.  "  A  very  nice  dance,  indeed," 
I  repeated,  partly  to  myself.  "  Let  me 
put  down  your  cup  for  you !  " 

"Thanks,  I  can  manage."  From 
the  corner  of  my  eye  I  watched  her 
pick  up  a  crumb  she  was  nursing  and 
carefully  put  it  into  the  fire.  "So 
you  enjoyed  yourself?"  she  said,  still 
intent  on  the  crumbs. 

"I  couldn't  very  well  help  it,"  I 
replied ;  "  I  had  an  adventure.  No,  I 
didn't  tread  on  anyone's  frock  'or 
upset  the  sandwiches,  if  that  'a  what 
you  're  thinking  of.  Oh,  dear,  no !  " 

Nothing  so  conventional,  I  sup- 
pose," she  murmured, — "  that  is  for 
you." 

"  There  was  one  beautiful  young  girl 
in  particular,"  I  went  on  affably,  "  who 
took  a  great  fancy  to  mo.  The  daring 
way  she—  Well,  I  'm  sure  people 
must  have  noticed.  Dear  little  girl !  " 


— and   I  wafted   an   airy  kiss  at   th 
ceiling. 

"  Perhaps  your  tie  wasn't  straight  ? 
she  suggested. 

"  No,  it  wasn't  that.  And  thor 
were  no  smuts  on  my  nose,  and  no  on 
had  been  chalking  things  on  my  back 
I  especially  asked  Henry,  to  make  sure 
Ho  said  it  was  clearly  a  case.  That ' 
what  your  own  brother  Henry  said." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Josephii 


in 


simply. 

"  No,  neither  did  I,  at  first.  Come 
bo  a  sportsman,  Josephine!  Don' 
grudge  me  my  little  triumphs !  Shal 
I  show  you  how  I  smiled  at  her?  " 

I  showed  her.  She  broke  into  a 
loud  inconsequent  peal  of  laughter,  bu 
I  took  out  my  cigarette-case  and  waitec 
patiently  for  it  to  subside. 

"  This  isn't  a  smoking-compartmen 

-at  least,  it  doesn't  say  so  on  the 
window,  but  may  I  ?  Have  one,  too  ? 
No,  not  that  one ;  he  's  put  his  fool 
through  his  nightshirt  .  .  .  his  little 
bedfellow  on  the  right." 

I  lit  a  match  for  her,   and  lapsec 
again  into  silence,  musing  and  lazily 
blowing  smoke  rings  at  the  shepherdes 
on  the  mantelpiece. 

"  She  has  beautiful  dreamy  brown 
eyes,"  I  resumed,  tenderly  stroking  my 
chin.  "  Her  name  's  Winnie,  short  for 
Winifred,  you  know — little  Winnie." 

"  How  nice!  "  said  Josephine.  Jose- 
phine's eyes  are  blue. 

"  Yes,  she  was,"  I  agreed ;  "  you  'd  be 
surprised.  Give  me  brown  eyes,  say  I, 
for  the  winter  months,  at  any  rate. 

And  as  for  her  complexion "Words 

'ailed  me  for  describing  her  complexion. 
'  Oh  yes,  and  she  has  beautiful  rich 
chestnut  hair.  Eolls  and  rolls  of  it." 

"Beally,"  said  Josephine.  Jose- 
>hine's  hair  is  a  summer  complete  in 
tself. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  very  fond  of  that-coloured 
aair.  What  a  pity  you  don't  take 
nore  care  of  your  complexion  1  I  did 
ell  you  her  name,  didn't  I?  Pretty 
lame,  Winifred." 

I  rolled  it  round  on  my  tongue 
everal  times,  to  get  the  full  flavour  of 
t.  The  "fred  "  begins  to  sound  rather 
unny  at  the  ninth  or  tenth  time  of 
aying.  Then  I  added  my  surname, 
o  see  how  it  sounded  with  that.  The 
prnbination  was  distinctly  melodious, 
ickling  the  ear. 

"  Now  let  us  dip  into  the  future,"  I 
aid,  when  I  was  tired  of  repeating  it. 

I  dipped  into  the  future  by  taking 
ut  an  old  envelope,  writing  our  two 
ames  on  the  back  of  it,  and  crossing 
ut  the  letters  common  to  both.  I 
uietly  handed  her  the  answer. 

"  There  you  are.     Love  on  both 

Why,   what    on   earth 's   the   matter, 
osephine  ?  " 


There  was  a  suspicious  noise  in  he 
throat,  she  had  her  hands  to  her  eyes 
and   her  cigarette   had   fallen   to   th< 
floor.     Poor  jealous  Josephine  !  It  was 
that  bit  about  the  hair  that  did  it ;  sb 
is  very  proud  of  her  hair.     I  got  up  in 
alarm  and  went  over  to  her,  but  her 
hands   resisted   my  efforts  to  remove 
them. 

"  Forgive  me,  Josephine !  "  I  whis 
pered  penitently.  "  I  was  a  brute,  and  I 
was  only  teasing  you,  and  there  isn't 
a  Winifred  at  all,  or — or  anyone, 
didn't  mean  to  ...  at  least,  I  did,  but 
I  didn't  think  you  .  .  .  For  Heaven's 
sake,  don't  cry  /" 

At  that  she  looked  up  indignantlyt 
with  one  eye,  however,  still  hermetically 
closed. 

"  I  wasn't  crying,"  she  said,  "  it  was 
ihe   smoke.      It — it   went   the   wro; 
way.     And,    anyhow,    I    knew    the 
wasn't  a  Winifred."     So  she  said. 

I  think  I  did  it  rather  well. 


PET! 

[" .  .  .be  there,  love  ! "  "  Yes,  pet ! '  '—Frag- 
nent  of  conversation  accidentally  overheard  on 
he  Telephone.] 

?ORGIVE  my  'phone's  unwitting  lapse, 
Or  operator's  joke,  perhaps, 

In  wafting  me  this  snippet ! 
The  wires,   no   doubt,   were   fused   or 

crossed, 
And  tantalizingly  was  lost 

The  rest  that  left  your  lip,  Pet. 

3ut  on  a  fairly  recent  date 
It  seemed  a  tea  and  tete-a-tete 

Were  topics  "  on  the  carpet ;  " 
)on't  be  alarmed — I'll  play  the  game— 
T  didn't  catch  your  caller's  name, 
And  don't  know  who  you  are,  Pet ! 

Did  walls  had  ears — in  modern  use 
'hey  've  voices,  too,  which  reproduce 
Your  chatter  like  a  trumpet ; 
lavesdropping  as  I  didn't  ought, 
had  to  interrupt — I  thought 
I  couldn't  well  be  dumb,  Pet. 

io  have  no  fear — I  know  no  more 
)f  what  you  planned  than  Adam,  or 

A  Punch-and- Judy's  puppet ; 
nd  at  the  appointed  trysting-place 
Much  as  I  'd  like  to  see  your  face) 

For  one,  I  shan't  turn  up,  Pet. 

y  wanderjahr  is  o'er — I  roam 

o  longer  now,  but  stick  at  home 

And  emulate  the  limpet ; 
for  do  I  move  in  circles  where 
They  call  one  "  pet  " — I  shouldn't  care 

To  clash  at  all  with  him,  Pet ! 

jet  other  "  numbers  "  bill  and  coo 
nd  fatuously  whisper  through  : — 
"  My  love,  my  duck,  my  poppet !  " 

bus'ness  with  the  telephone 
s  in  a  far  more  peevish  tone — 
There  let  the  matter  drop,  Pet ! 

ZIG-ZAG. 


JANUARY  l.  1913.]  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


NEW    YEAR    RESOLUTIONS. 

SHOULD  THEY   BE  MADE  TO   BE  BROKEN?      IT  1>UPKSI>S   KNT1UI.I.Y   ON   Till:   WlfK   CHOICE   OP  ONI'.'S  RESOLUTIONS. 


GENERAL  SIB  THOMAS  GOBOEB,  PEELING  THAT  ENGLAND  is,  LADY   THUMPINOTON,    DISAPPKOVINO    OF    THE    TENDENCY    OF 

011   SHOULD    BE,    FOB   THE   ENGLISH,    RESOLVES   TO    ABSTAIN    FBOM  PEOPLE    WITH    INADEQUATE    INCOMES   TO    PLAY   AUC 

PATBONIZING  EIGHTEEN-PENNY   SOHO  BESTAUBANTS.  TO  REFUSE,   FOB  THE   FUTURE,   TO  PLAY    FOB    LESS   THAN    HALF-A- 

CBOWN  A  HUNDRED. 


MlSS  L.OVALL,  TO  CURB  HER  MERCENARY  INCLINATIONS,  DECIDES  AND    CAPTAIN    KEMPTON    RESOLVES    TO    HAVE    A    GOOD    TIME    AKD 

THAT  DURING  1913  SHE  WILL  FLIRT  WITH  ANY  NICE-LOOKING  MAN,  GIVE  ONE  TO  HIS  FRIENDS,   ENTIRELY  DISREGARDING  THK  PURELY 

IRRESPECTIVE   OF  WHAT  HIS   INCOME   HAPPENS  TO  BE.  PEBSONAL  DISCOMFORT  OF  GETTING.   INTO   DEBT. 


10 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1913. 


HOPE    SPRINGS    ETERNAL." 

Arclilt.  "TBTS  is  THE  LIMIT;    I'M  GOING."  Reggie.  "WAIT  HALF  A  JIIT;  H3  IIAT  BCIW  HIMSELF." 


THE  SONGSHOP. 

THE  prospectus  of  the  Songshop,  an 
institution  which  is  shortly  to  be 
opened  in  the  heart  of  Bloomsbury, 
under  the  aegis  of  the  Songsmiths' 
Friendly  Society  and  in  close  connection 
with  The  Minstrels'  Magazine,  has  just 
reached  us  and  calls  for  immediate  and 
sympathetic  notice. 

The  advantages  of  maintaining  a 
periodical  in  connection  with  a  Songshop 
are  convincingly  driven  home  in  the 
prospectus.  In  The  Minstrels'  Magazine 
they  will  recommend  the  public  what 
to  read ;  in  the  Songshop  they  will  sell 
them  what  they  have  recommended. 

More  than  that,  however,  they  are 
prepared  to  afford  special  facilities  to 
those  anxious  to  study  the  art  of  lyrical 
expression  under  the  most  favourable 
conditions.  The  premises  being  most 
extensive,  rooms  will  be  let  at  a  moder- 
ate rate  to  meritorious  minstrels.  These 
will  be  known  as  Nests  and  will  be 
equipped  with  all  the  necessary  imple- 
ments of  inspiration — hammocks  to 
provide  that  gentle  motion  which  is  so 
essential  to  metrical  utterance ;  paper 
of  different  vivid  colours  to  fit  the 
chequered  emotions  of  the  singer; 


Pierian  fountain  pens ;  spring  mat- 
tresses for  spring  poets  ;  and  a  constant 
supply  of  light  and  phosphorescent 
refreshment. 

The  songs  of  nightingales,  larks, 
cuckoos,  and  other  birds  associated 
with  poetic  stimulus  will  be  reproduced 
faithfully  on  the  gramophone. 

Tenants  of  the  Nests  will  not  be 
under  any  compulsion  to  produce  a 
fixed  number  of  lines  every  day,  but 
they  will  naturally  be  expected  to  throw 
in  their  lot  with  those  who  are  en- 
deavouring to  enlarge  the  borders  of 
true  art.  'ihe  art  of  the  Songshop  will 
have  nothing  to  say  to  sterile  formalism, 
empty  rhetoric,  jingling  rhymes  or  flat 
heavy  blank-verse.  Yet  the  line  must 
be  drawn  somewhere ;  "  formlessness 
i  is  only  permissible  when  it  is  absolutely 
necessaiy,"  and  the  Songsmiths  "will 
uphold  a  positive  distinction  between 
prose  and  verse." 

Lord  AVEBUBY,  who,  according  to 
The  Sunday  Times,  is  a  contributor  to 
the  January  number  of  The  Poetry 
Review,  has  permanently  engaged  one 
of  the  largest  Nests,  which  is  built  in 
the  form  of  a  Beehive,  where  it  is  ex- 
pected that  he  will  shortly  make  things 
IHIIII.  The  cuisine  of  the  Songshop 


will  be  under  his  special  charge,  and  he 
has  already  made  a  metrical  list  of  the 
Hundred  Best  Cooks,  headed  with  the 
motto,  "  The  hand  that  holds  the  ladle 
rules  the  world."  Mr.HEHBERT  TRENCH, 
the  author  of  the  famous  Illuminated 
Symphony,  who  has  repeatedly  been 
pronounced  by  some  of  the  most  gifted 
press  agents  to  be  the  greatest  living 
poet,  will  be  attached  to  the  institution 
as  Polychromatic  Adviser,  and  Mr. 
PARIS  SINGEK,  Mr.  WILKIE  BARD,  Mrs. 
ORMISTON  CHANT  and  Mr.  HENRY  BIRD 
will,  it  is  hoped,  form  a  House  Com- 
mittee, whose  special  duty  will  be  to 
watch  over  the  warblers  and,  when 
nscessary,  extricate  them  from  pre- 
carious metrical  positions. 


"Of  course,  much  of  the  interest  which 
invested  last  Saturday's  local  Agamemnon 
was  of  a  partisan  character." — Sporting  Mail. 
Unfortunately  the  local  Armageddon, 
who  plays  full-back,  was  absent. 


From  an  Osborne  Cadet's  examin- 
ation paper : — 

"  Q.  Explain  the  geographical  position  and 
importance  of  Simla. 

".4.  Simla  is  the  place  where  all  the  no- 
torious people  of  India  go  when  Calcutta  gets 
too  hot  for  them." 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  1,   1913. 


A    TANGLED    SKEIN. 

THE  NEW  YEAR.  "I    RAY,  AUNT   EUROPA,  YOU    HAVE   GOT   THIS   THING   INTO   A   MUDDLE. 
IT  'LL-    TAKE    US    ALL    OUR    TIME    TO    GET    IT    RIGHT." 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


13 


YEB 


Pat  (to  traveller  staying  at  Irish  inn  who  has  rung  at  7  a.m.  for  hot  water).  " 

HONOUR,   BUT  I  HAVE  IT   HEBE,   AN*   THE  LBMON8  AN1   SUGAR,   TOO." 


SUBE,    'TIS  A   THBIFLE    EABLY    FOB   THB    HOT    WATHEB, 


SNAPDRAGON. 

LONG  ago,  long  ago  in  the  land  of  Shan-tung, 

When  the  world  was  attractive  and  magic  and  young, 

Mid  the  mild  pterodactyls  the  Snapdragon  slew, 

And  hia  breath  was  a  flame  of  hot  yellow  and  blue ; 

He'd  pounce,  where  they  played  with  their  primitive 

toys, 

Upon  fat  little  raisin-faced  Chinaman  boy8, 
And  he  'd  swoop  with  a  snap,  as  they  combed  out  their 

curls, 

Upon  fat  little  almond-eyed  Chinaman  girls ; 
And  in  fact  he  went  on  in  so  tiresome  a  way 
That  the  greatest  of  Chams  became  filled  with  dismay, 
And  he  said,  "  Lest  the  Snapdragon  guzzle  and  gorge 
Every  kid  in  our  kingdom,  let 's  send  for  ST.  GEORGE  !  " 

Tlio  Saint  soon  appeared,  riding  stately  and  slow, 
On  a  charger  as  white  as  the  new-driven  snow ; 
His  shield  it  was  silver,  his  lance  tough  and  strong, 
And  his  two-handed  sword  most  prodigiously  long  ; 
But  his  face  it  was  gentle  and  merry  and  kind, 
The  best  sort  of  face  for  a  fighter,  you  '11  find, 
And  he  pulled  on  his  helmet  and  tightened  a  strap, 
And  he  cried,  "Where's  the  dragon  who  calls  himself 

Snap?" 

Then  the  dragon  rushed  out  and  the  dust  and  the  din. 
Of  the  combat  was  carried  as  far  as  Pekin, 
Till  the  Saint  hammered  home  his  most  useful  of  smacks 
And  the   Snapdragon  whimpered,   "  ST.  GEORGE,  let 's 

have  pax  i " 

"  All  right,"  said  ST.  GEORGE,  for  he  wasn't,  you  know, 
The  sort  to  be  hard  on  a  well-hammered  foe; 


Still,  the  dragon  despondently  hung  down  his  head, 

Being  frightfully  sick  at  the  life  that  he  'd  led  ; 

So  the  Saint  thought  a  minute  and  then  waved  his  sword 

And  the  kids  who  'd  been  eaten  were  safely  restored 

As  jolly  as  ever;  the  Snapdragon  said 

He  would  live  for  the  future  on  brown  gingerbread 

To  show  he  was  sorry  and,  if  it  would  please, 

He  would  come — as  a  waiter — to  holiday  teas. 

This  task  he  performed  with  most  pious  complaisance, 

Though  he  always  would  hand  round  the  almonds  and 

raisins, 

Which  in  consequence  often  appeared  in  a  blaze, 
For  his  breath  was  blue  fire  till  the  end  of  his  days ! 

And  after  his  death  at  a  hundred-and-three, 
When  almonds  and  raisins  were  served  after  tea, 
In  the  land  of  Shan-tung  it  was  proper  and  right 
To  call  them  Snapdragon  and  serve  them  alight ! 
*          »  *          <:•          *•          *          *          • 

And  so,  my  dears,  the  fearful  Beast 
That  ravaged  once  the  rosy  East 
Is  now  that  tastiest  of  myths 
You  met  last  Thursday  at  the  Smiths' ; 
Remember  that  next  time  you  gorge, 
And  say  a  grace  to  good  ST.  GEORGE  1 

1 '  THINGS  you  SHOULD  KNOW. 

On  December  25th,  10G6,  William  the  Conqueror  was  drowned." 

Glasgow  News. 
We  will  remember  in  future. 


"The  Xmas  holidays  will  be  observed  in  Kamsey,  on  Wednesday, 
Dec.  25th,  and  Thursday,  Dec.  26th."— Ramsey  Courier. 

Ramsey  is  always  in  every  new  movement. 


14 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAIUVAHI. 


[JANUABY    1,    1913. 


IN    A   BALL-ROOM. 

"  TKI.I,  mo  all  about  yourself,"  he 
said.  She  had  known  him  two  minutes, 
and  he  had  already  told  her  his  life- 
history. 

"Why  should  I?"  she  said,  raising 
her  cyebro\vs. 

"  I  'm  sure  it  would  he  so  interesting. 
Let  me  see.  You  are  married,  you  say. 
You  know  I  never  caught  your  name. 
But  how  absurd  !  You  don't  look  more 
than  nineteen." 

"  I  hate  compliments,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  little  pause. 

"  We  must  have  heaps  of 
mutual  friends,"  he  began  again 
a  little  feverishly.  "  Heaps." 

"  Why?''  she  asked. 

"  You  know  the  Barringtons, 
I  expect.  Yes,  I  'm  sure  you 
know  the  Barringtons.  Haven't 
I  met  you  there  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  she  said 
thoughtfully.  "  But  then  I  'm 
always  so  busy,  when  I  'm  there, 
looking  at  all  the  papers  I  don't 
get  at  home,  that  you  may  have 
been  there  and  I  've  never  seen 
you." 

"  What  on  earth  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  've  never  met  you  : 
in  the  other  room,"  she  went  on, ' 
"  because  there 's  only  one  chair  j 
there  and  that 's  always  empty 
when  I  go  in.     You  are  alluding, 
of  course,  to  the   two  dentists, 
the  brothers  Barrington,  aren't 
you  ?  " 

"  Of:  course  not,"  he  said 
shortly.  "  I  mean  the  Barring- 
tons  of  Barrington  Hall.  Arc 
there  any  others  ?  " 

"Dear  me,  yes,"  she  said. 
"  Lots." 

There  was  another  little  pause. 

He  sighed  and  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  back  to  personalities. 

" '  Tip-tilted '  was  the  word  I ! 
wanted  for  your  nose,"  he  said,  ' 


Afterwards,  when  he  was  alone,  she 
came  up  to  him. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  was  so  disagreeable," 
she  said,  "  when  you  went  on  like  that 
with  me.  But,  you  see,  I  didn't  know 
you  were  doing  it  for  a  bet.  How  arc 
you  getting  on  ?  " 

Our  Athletic  Dumb  Friends. 
"  Wanted— A   Confidential    Pony   to    play 
polo." — Advt.  in  "  Statesman." 

"  Parcels  are  being  handed  to  customers  by 
Polo  Bears,  who  seem  to  be  alive." 

Advt.  in  "Englishman." 
Everybody 's  doing  it. 


"  It  is  to  my  maternal  aunt,"  I  ex- 
plained, as  I  showed  it  him,  "that  we 
are  indebted  for  this  mutual  pleasure." 
His  face  did  not  brighten. 
"  Either,"  I  continued,  "  you  do  not 
appreciate  what  this  little  box  contains, 
or   yours  is  one  of  those   inscrutable 
expressions  which  are  no  true  index  to 
the  inner  feelings." 

1  opened  the  box  and  displayed  the 
Fountain  Pen  within.  If  possible  lie 
became  a  degree  more  glum  at  the 
prospect. 

"  You  do  not  realise,"  said  I,  "  that 
this  nib  does  not  suit  me." 

He  frowned  quita  unmis- 
takably. 

"  Come,  come  !  "  I  pressed  ; 
"do  you  not  see  that  not  only 
does  this  nib  not  suit  me  but 
also  that  I  am  going  to  afford 
you  the  opportunity  of  changing 
it  for  me,  gratis  ?  " 

The  busy  half-hour  I  spent 
in  that  shop  has  convinced  me 
•  that  the  gladness  of  the  sta- 
tioner is  not  as  the  gladness  of 
other  men,  or  else  that  his  -way 
of  showing  it  is  most  mis- 
leading. 


'  WELL 

'BOOK 


,  OLD  BOY,  WHAT'S  THE  PBIZE?" 

CALLED — En — SHAKSPEABE.    EVEB  HEAD  IT, 


as  they  walked  back  to  the  ball-room. 
"  You  remember  I  was  trying  to  tell  you 
how  it  struck  me." 

"  I  'in  sorry  if  it  did  that,"  she  said 
gently.  "But,  if  anything,  it 's  slightly 
Jewish,  really,"  and  she  left  him  with 
a  nod. 

"  Now,  what  is  a  man  to  talk  of  to  a 
girl  like  that?  "he  said,  mopping  his 
forehead. 

Then  he  found  his  next  partner. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  yourself,"  he  said, 
as  they  sat  out.  "  I  'm  sure  it  would 
be  BO  interesting."  And  then,  "  Do  you 
know,  we  must  have  heaps  of  mutual 
friends.  Heaps."  Then  he  looked  up 
and  caught  his  last  partner's  eye.  She 
smiled  it  him  amicably. 


THE    MARCH    OF 
PROGRESS. 

I  WAS  not  sorrowful,  but  only 

bored 

I  By   each   and   all   that   ever   I 
adored. 

I  am  not  forty-five,  but  twenty- 
three— 

You  must  not  think  that  they 
were  bored  by  me. 

No,     on     the     contrary,     they 

fluttered  round, 
Responsive     to     the      music's 

opening  sound, 

Clasped  me  delightedly  and  did 

their  best, 

DAD?"   Talked  in  the  intervals  and  let 
me  rest. 


A   JOYFUL    OCCASION. 

["  Why  not  instruct  us  to  send  one  of  our 
Fountain  Pens  direct  to  your  friend  for  his 
Christmas  present?  If  the  nib  does  not  suit, 
any  stationer  will  gladly  change  it  for  him, 
gratis."— Extract  from  drccent  advertisement.'] 

"ANY  stationer,"  said  my  aunt's 
letter,  so  I  took  the  first  that  came. 

"It  is  too  late  to  wish  you  a  Merry 
Christmas,"  I  said  to  the  man  behind 
the  counter,  "but  I  can,  at  any  rate, 
wish  you  a  Happy  New  Year,  and  that 
with  some  confidence." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Sir?  "  said 
he,  a  little  curtly  I  thought.  But  then 
he  did  not  yet  know  what  happiness  1 
had  in  store  for  him.  I  produced  the 
presentation  case. 


j  Were  they  less  lovely  than  the  week 

before  ? 
I  Was  the  band  timeless,   adamant  the 

floor? 

Did  supper  bring  some  vintage  that  I 

bar, 
An  old  crustacean  or  a  young  cigar? 

No,  everything  was  exquisite ;  but  what 
Availed  the  Coney  Clutch,  the  Clydes- 
dale Trot  ? 

I  knew  the  Simian  Slide,  and  they  did 
not. 


"The  discoverers  suggest  a  gigantic  »7iti- 
quity,  and  some  of  those  who  have  examined 
the  fragments  think  it  was  older  still." 


Or  even  older  than  that. 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI; 


15 


Head  of  the  Family  (writing  to  the  inventor,  after  wrestling  with  "  Tlie  Best  Puzzle  of  the  Century  "),  "  THE  LEAFLET  ACCOMPANYING 

YOOH    UNHEALTHY    INVENTION    STATES    THAT    A    PATENT   HAS   BEEN    APPLIED    FOB.       YOU    HAVE    THB    PRESENT    STATB    OF    TUB    LAW    TO 
THANK  THAT  A   WARRANT  HAS  NOT  ALSO  BEEN  APPLIED  FOE." 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  THE  SLEEPING  BEAUTY." 
BUT   for   the    scenery,    which    was 
nearly  always  of  an  exotic  beauty,  and 
some  of  the  names,  which  had  an  Italian 
flavour,  you  would  never  have  guessed 
that  wo  were  dealing  with  Continentals, 
so  British  was  the  humour,  so  true  to 
the  traditions  of  Boxing  Night 
at  the  Lane.     Yet,  if  we  might 
believe  the  sign -post  (in  Eng- 
lish), it  was  on  the  very  frontier 
of  Prance  and  Switzerland  that 
the   most   engaging  episode  of 
the     evening     occurred,    when 
Monte    Blanco   (Mr.    GEORGE 
GRAVES),  who  had  for  eighteen 
years   been  established  in  this 
spot  as  a  scarecrow  (on  a  more 
military  frontier  such  an  object 
would    almost    certainly    havo 
attracted   suspicion),    recovn  1 1 
his  ducal  identity. 

It  was  here,  at  a  rather  ad- 
vanced hour,  that  the  humour  of 
the  pantomime,  hitherto  largely 
confined  to  the  knockabout 
business  (in  which  Messrs. 
LUPINO  and  OWEN  are  so  ex- 
cellent), began  to  invade  the 
dialogue,  or,  at  any  rate,  Mr. 


GEORGE  GRAVES'S  share  of  it.  How 
much  was  his  own  and  how  much  the 
authors'  I  dare  not  conjecture,  but  one 
is  safe  in  attributing  a  great  deal  of  its 
success  to  the  personality  of  this  de- 
lightful actor.  It  is  perhaps  regrettable, 
by  the  way,  that  political  and  other 


pantomimes.  Something  more  might 
have  been  made  out  of  the  latest  move- 
ment of  the  militant  Suffragettes.  •  I  do 
trust -that  on  a  future  visit  I  may  be 
regaled  with  a  Pillar- Box  outrage. 

The  main  theme  did  not  strictly  fol- 
low the  lines  of  TENNYSON'S  Daydream. 


topical   allusions  are    not   the   strong  j  There  were  two  claimants  for  the  hand 
feature  that  they  used  to  be  in  the  old  ;  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty.    One  of  them 

(Auriol)  had  been  betrothed  in 
his  cradle  to  the  Princess  in 
hers,  and  therefore  had  a  prior 
claim;  but  the  Wicked  Fairy 
had  had  him  mislaid  shortly 
after  the  ceremony.  The  claim 
of  the  other  (Finnykin)  was  illu- 
sory, and  would  never  have  been 
entertained  if  the  embassy  des- 
patched to  discover  the  missing 
child  had  been  less  anxious  not 
to  return  empty-handed.  He 
was  a  bumpkin  of  so  sylvan  a 
type  that  Mr.  GRAVES  mistook 
him  for  a  woodcock.  His  tastes 
lying  in  a  direction  more  con- 
genial to  his  humble  origin,  he 
shrank  from  the  greatness  that 
was  thrust  upon  him.  Mr. 
LUPINO  played  the  part  with 
a  very  becoming  modesty  of 
demeanour. 

The    successful  hero,  or 


Mr.  GEORGE  GR\VKS  (Ditke  of  Monle  Hlancn)  conducts  his 

pri\ati>  band. 


16 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1913. 


"  Principal  Boy,"  should,  by  all  that  is 
sacred  in  tradition,  have  been  a  girl, 
but  actually  he  was  Mr.  DOUTIIITT. 
Excellent  in  voice,  he  looked  a  little  too 
stalwart  for  the  part.  One  expected  a 
resounding  smack  when  he  kissed  the 
lady  out  of  her  sleep ;  and  a  response 
on  her  side — 

"  0  lovo,  thy  kiss  would  wako  the  dead !  " 

But  then  one  had  to  remember  that  his 
foster-parents  were  rustic,  and  that  he 
had  been  brought  up  as  a  gardener. 
The  Princess  made  a  pleasant  point  of 
this,  while  still  ignorant  of  his  lofty 
pedigree.  "The  first  lady  of  the  land," 
she  said,  "married  a  gardener."  An 
admirable  precedent,  and,  as  we  know, 

"  From  yon  blue  heavens  above  us  bont 
The  gardener  Adam  and  his  wife 

Sinilo  at  the  claims  of  long  descent." 

I  was  very  sorry  indeed  for  him 
when  the  malevolence  of  Anarchista, 
the  Wicked  Fairy,  turned  him  into  an 
appallingly  hairy  monster.  (Was  it 
the  Tatcho  of  Mr.  SIMS,  part-author, 
that  did  it  ?)  Here  the  pathos  and  the 
grotesqueness  of  things  rubbed  a  little 
against  one  another.  But  it  brought 
love  to  the  test.  For  it  was  the  loyalty 
of  the  Princess  in  these  trying  circum- 
stances that  secured  his  restoration. 
Such  was  the  pretty  rule  in  Faerie, 
where  Puck  set  forth  the  law  that  these 
restorations  can  only  occur  through  an 
act  of  human  intervention. 

The  slight  and  graceful  Priiicess 
(Misa  FLORENCE  SMITHSON)  lacked 
something  of  the  sentimentality  of 
the  'habitual  heroine  of  pantomime ; 
but  she  got  well  home  to  the  hearts  of 
her  audience  by  the  refinement  of  her 
singing.  The  chief  honours,  how- 
ever, went  again  to  little  Miss  BENEE 
MAYEB.  She  could  not  be  expected 
to  have  voice  enough  for  the  part  of 
Chorus,  but  there  was  an  instinctive 
grace  in  all  her  movements,  and 
whenever  she  appeared — an  unfailing 
promise  of  some  good  change  coming — 
she  brought  with  her  an  exquisite  air 
of  romance. 

I  feel  for  Mr.  ARTHUR  COLLINS,  upon 
whom  the  necessity  of  surpassing  him- 
self must  put  a  heavy  annual  strain. 
To  say  that  he  has  done  it  this  time 
would  be  to  compromise  his  past  record. 
But  every  year,  one  seems  to  detect  a 
surer  feeling  for  subdued  harmonies, 
a  nicer  distaste  for  resonance  and 
glare.  The  dim  light  on  the  great 
Garden  scene  was  very  beautiful,  and, 
for  contrast,  the  high  colours  of  "  The 
Blue  Lagoon,"  were  proper  enough  to 
the  hard  brilliance  of  Lake  Geneva— 
or  whatever  it  WHS. 

As  for  the  fun — vires  acqnireteundo; 
and  the  same  may  be  hopefully  said  of 
EOineof  the  dancing,  which  needed  more 


rehearsals ;  but  meanwhile  I  carried 
away  (some  time,  I  fear,  before  the  end, 
for  I  am  past  the  age  when  even  the 
best  pantomime  is  an  adequate  solace 
for  the  loss  of  both  dinner  and  supper) 
a  vivid  impression  of  some  very  on- 
trancing  pictures,  of  an  amazing  smooth- 
ness in  the  work  of  the  scene-shifters, 
of  the  most  fascinating  of  Pucks,  the 
most  genial  of  humorous  Dukes,  and 


Mr.  BARBY  LUPINO  (Finnykin)  in  a  golfing 
suit,  as  worn  on  the  Franco-Swiss  frontier. 

the  handsomest  Wicked  Fairy  (in  the 
person  of  Miss  ALICE  CHARTRES)  that 
ever  mitigated  the  charms  of  Malice  by 
the  beauty  of  her  own.  O.  S. 

"  SHOCK-HEADED  PETER." 
Why  it  was  I  do  not  know,  but  as 
a  child  I  certainly  owed  nothing  to 
Stnmnvelpeter.  Though  we  all  read  it, 
our  reception  of  it  was  mild,  and  it 
was  never  the  family  book  that,  say, 
Uncle  Remus  became.  As  a  result  I 
could  only  remember,  when  I  grew  up, 
that  Augustus  was  a  chubby  lad,  and 
that  Fidgety  Phil  couldn't  keep  still. 
So  I  cannot  say  whether  this  children's 
play  by  PHILIP  CARR  and  NIGEL  PLAY- 
FAIR  (as  given  every  afternoon  at  the 
Vaudeville)  is  calculated  to  shock  the 
elect  or  not.  Obviously  it  does  not 
shock  me.  I  do  not  mind  at  all  that 
Philip  and  Augustus  and  Peter  and 
Harriet  should  be  made  to  belong  to 
one  father,  when  perhaps  they  weren't 
even  related  in  the  original  version.  I 
have  no  feelings  about  any  of  them. 
What  does  concern  me  is  that  these 
four  bad  children  should  be  played 
so  delightfully  by  Messrs.  COMPTON- 


COUTTS,  EDWARD  EIGBY,  EDMUND 
GWENN,  and  Miss  NELLIE  BOWMAN, 
and  that  they  should  have  had  such  a 
thoroughly  happy  and  wicked  time. 
Pleasant  too  it  was  to  hear  again  such 
childish  expressions  as  "  Bags  I  "  and 
"Beastly  swizzle" — they,  at  any  rate, 
owed  nothing  to  the  German.  (But, 
dear  Authors,  surely  we  used  to  say 
"  Fain  I,"  and  not  "  Fains  I,"  when 
we  wished  to  get  out  of  anything  un- 
pleasant ?  That  extra  "s"  gave  me 
quite  a  turn.) 

The  little  play  is  admirably  staged. 
There  is  a  very  sound  storm  which 
carries  off  Peter  on  the  crook  of  Harriet's 
umbrella,  and  a  realistic  burning-up  of 
Harriet  (who  played  with  matches) 
which  is  positively  terrifying.  Indeed, 
it  was  only  the  calmness  of  the  children 
round  me  which  kept  me  in  my  seat 
during  these  calamities. 

Shock-Headed  Peter  is  preceded  by 
some  old  English  singing-games  and 
dances,  performed  by  children  under 
the  direction  of  Mr.  CECIL  SHARP. 
These  were  altogether  charming.  There 
is  one  particular  singing-game  called 
"The  Eoman  Soldiers"  which  took  my 
fancy  entirely.  I  wonder  if  I  could 
introduce  it  into  Bouverie  Street. 

M. 


THOUGHTS  ON  LOOKING  THROUGH  A 
CHRISTMAS  ACCOUNT-BOOK. 

JAMES  has  two  lady  friends,  both  near 

his  heart ; 
One  is  the  Muses'  handmaid,  tall  and 

slim, 

Whose  taste  is  all  for  letters,  music,  art 
(Concurrently  with  great  respect  for 
Jim) ; 

The  other  —  isn't.     Some  have  called 

her  vain ; 
Nor,  to  speak  truth,  does  she  so  much 

prefer 
Jim's  loftier   discourse  to   his   lighter 

strain. 

She  's  fond  of  jewels.     Jim  is  fond  of 
her. 

At   Christmas-tide   Jim   finds,   to   his 

regret, 
That  jewels  such  as  please  a  captious 

sense 

Of  beauty  cost  him  dear.  But  lie  can  get 
Thoughts  from  Great  Thinkers  (fawn) 
for  eighteen-pence. 

The  which  is   shameful.      But,  if  you 

were  he, 

(And   weren't  you  ?)  pray,   what  then, 
my  friend  '>  De  te —  ! 

From  an  auctioneer's  catalogue : — 
"  159. — Works  of  Ciceronis  Opera." 

The  Opera  family  has  always  been 
extraordinarily  productive.  Caesaris 
Opera  was  one  of  the  most  fruitful. 


JANUARY  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


17 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
Little,  Thank  You,  which  Messrs.  PUTNAM 
publish  for  Mrs.  T.  P.  O'CONNOR,  ia  a  charming 
idyll.  It  presents  a  sunny  picture  of  Virginia 
;tfiiT  the  war,  but  at  a  period  so  close  to  the 
epoch-making  event  that  we  catch  many 
glimpses  of  home  life  in  "  ole  Virginny."  The 
hero  of  the  story  is  a  small  boy  who,  after 
the  occasional  manner  of  his  kind,  dominates 
the  domestic  circle  of  whicli  he  is  the  centre. 
It  would  be  easy  to  make  such  an  one  a  per- 
sistent bore.  Mrs.  O'CONNOR  handles  her 
subject  so  gently  and  witli  such  skill  that  the 
reader,  inclined  at  the  outset  to  be  repelled,  is 
conquered,  and  pays  court  with  the  rest.  The 
characters  in  the  little  drama  are  few,  but 
without  exception  are  admirably  drawn.  The 
old  negro  nurse,  probably  taken  from  life,  is 
delightful.  Jimps,  the  dog,  is  in  his  way 
(squally  good.  It  is  the  sort  of  book  that  is 
especially  attuned  to  the  Christmas  mood. 
Those  who  did  not  find  the  opportunity  of 
reading  it  in  the  already  passed  holiday-time 
may  take  my  word  for  it  that  its  perusal  will 
brighten  the  New  Year. 


One  of  the  most  agreeable  entertainments 
that  I  have  encountered  this  great  while  is 
The  Unbearable  Bassington  (JOHN  LANE).  By 
now  one  has,  of  course,  grown  to  expect  verbal 
dexterities  from  Mr.  H.  H.  MUNRO  ("  SAKI  "), 
and  in  the  present  volume  one  certainly  gets 
them,  and  something  more.  The  book  is  in 
fact  a  pudding  in  which  the  greatest  possible 
number  of  plums  are  held  together  by  the 
barest  modicum  of  suet — with  the  natural 
result  that,  taken  in  bulk,  the  mixture  may  be 
found  cloying.  In  small  portions,  say  three 
chapters  to  a  meal,  you  can  not  only  enjoy  it 
delightedly  yourself,  but  even  compel  the 
appreciation  of  those  to  whom  you  will  be 
unable  to  resist  reading  the  choicest  bits 
aloud.  Than  this,  of  which  I  have  made  per- 
sonal test,  there  can  surely  be  no  greater 
tribute  to  such  a  book.  Only  considerations  of 
space  restrain  me  from  quoting  its  best  things 
now.  There  is  one  chapter  that  contains 
the  most  brilliant  exhibition  of  conversational 
fireworks  since  The  Importance  of  Being 
Earnest.  But  inevitably  they  are  of  different 
degrees  of  sparkle.  Not  only  does  one  get 


Friend  (to  infantry  officer  who  has  bttn  trying  to  pass  riding  test  for  promotion). 
WELL,  PASSED  ALL  RIGHT,  I  HOPE?" 

No;    SPUN,     CONFOUND    'EM  I      THEY  BROUGHT  THE  WRONG    HORSE." 


the    rather   mechanical   humour  which  describes  a  man's  and  the  odds  and  ends  of  people  who  are  involved  i 
beard   as  "lending  a   certain   dignity   to    his   appearance  affairs.     The  hapless  Tow  Garry,  who  married  her,  is  less 
— a  loan  which  the  rest  of  his  features  were  continually  convincing,  being  a  trifle  too  stagnant  for  a  young  Guards- 
repudiating,"  but  on  the  same  page  we  read,  "One  should  man;  but  he  is  a  good  enough  background  for  the  finely- 


ahvays  speak  guardedly  of  the  Opposition  leaders;  one  never 
knows  what  a  turn  in  the  situation  may  do  for  them," 
with  the  added  remark,  in  reply  to  obvious  comment,  "  I 
mean  they  may  one  day  lead  the  opposition."  This  seems 
to  mo  the  genuine  article;  and,  if  you  like  it,  and  ever  so 


shaded  picture  of  his  wife.  As  so  often  happens  in  real  life, 
one  thing  after  another  occurred  in  their  existence;  and 
again,  as  so  often  happens  in  real  life,  these  incidents  were 
just  incidents  and  led  up  to  no  particular  crisis  or  denoue- 
ment. They  were  interesting  in  themselves,  severally  and 


much  more  that  at  its  worst  is  always  smart  and  at  its  best  apart,  and  in  the  telling  of  them  the  author,  as  shrewd  and 

'11      L\  ..    ~\  '  i  1  rm  T-T      i  111-1 


witty,  you  will  find  with  me  The  Unbearable  Bassington 


very  beai  able  indeed. 


There  can  be  no  question  about  it,  Mrs.  HENKY  DE  LA 
PASTURE  (Lady  CLIFFORD)  has  made  a  very  delicate  and 
telling  study  of  her  Erica  and  the  down-trodden  Lady  Clow, 


observant  as  ever,  finds  many  an  opportunity  of  expounding 
her  simple  and  genial,  philosophy.  Meanwhile,  Tom  Garry 
bore  with  his  wife  very  patiently  for  a  while,  lost  his 
illusions  of  her  one  by  one,  and  ultimately  died  before  the 
birth  of  his  son.  And  there  you  have  Erica  (SMITH  ELDEB). 
There  are  those,  and  I  am  one,  who  look  for  a  plot  in  a 


18 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARtVASl.^JJ^**  l>  1913- 


novel       Something   momentous   must   happen,  be   it   the   and  here  and  there,    t 
expected  to  fulfil  our  hopes  and  fears,  or  the  unexpected  to   his  t: 
surprise  us.     The  only  critical  event  in  Erica's  career  is  the  importance  to  mere  tn 
LLution  of  her  engagement  to  Christoptor  Thorverton,   is  a  general  liveliness  i 
.od  that  »  prior  to  the  period  of  this  history.     Thus when  ,  very  readable      b.U,  I 


the  writer  has  taken 
too  great  an 
of  that,  however,  there 
in  the  narrative  which  makes  his  book 
am  bound  to  say  that  that  part  of 
ho  discusses  the  ethics  of  the  sport 


with  the  "  A'o/c :— The  Author  hopes  m  a  later  volume  to 
give  the  further  history  of  Erica  and  her  son,"  and  it  is 
possible  that  I  shall  not  read  that  later  volume,  unless  I 
liave  reason  to  believe  that  it  will  excite  my  emotional  as 
well  as  my  intellectual  approval. 


a  very  convincing  piece  of  work.  To  say,  as  he  does,  that 
"  it  is  very  questionable  whether  animals  experience  pain," 
is  an  absurd  and  mischievous  piece  of  overstatement,  which 
would  justify  a  demand  for  the  repeal  of  the  laws  directed 
a«ainst  cruelty  to  animals.  I  must  not  conclude  without 
montionint.'  a  memoir  of  W.  E.  CUKBEY,  the  founder  of  the 


pack,   delightfully  written   by  Professor  HENRY  JACKSON. 
Elsewhere  will  be  found  some  anecdotes  of  Mr.  EOWLAND 

" 


To  read  RALPH  CONNOR  on  Western   Canada  and   the 

heroic   routine   of   that   fine   service    of    the   North- West  ^™ ,.-„.-..—  ~ 

Mounted  Police   is   to   feel   young   and   adventurous  and  HUNT,    M.P. ;  (then   nicknamed   "  Mother   )    which   shosv 

imperial-at  too  small  a  price.     The  author  has  a  flair  that  he  did  not  always  wear  that  air  of  Boadicean  graviU 

for  all  that  is  keen  and  clean  and  strong  in  football  or  love  which  now  marks  him  in  the  House  of  Commons. 


or  war,  and  a  deep  and 
simple  religious  faith 
and  feeling  underlie  his 
outlook  upon  life.  Cor- 
poral Co»terore(HoDDER 
AND  STOUGHTON)  was  a 
Scottish  International 
half,  who  lost  a  certain 
match  through  dilut- 
ing his  training  with 
whisky,  and  was  com- 
ing to  no  good  in  the 
Old  Country.  He  finds 
"a  man's  work" — "rid- 
ing on  a  horse  and 
ordering  people  about " 
(as  young  Reggie  Ken- 
nion  defines  it  in  The 
Younger  Generation) — 
in  the  Mounted  Police 
after  some  tough  and 
toughening  experience 
on  a '  farm  and  in  a 
survey  gang.  Haven, 
the  whisky-runner  and 
horse-thief,  is  a  rare  spe- 
cimen of  the  hero-black- 
guard, and  Cameron's 
'  three  encounters  with  him  make  a  stout  yarn.  The  police  are 
1  the  finest  of  fine  fellows,  a  breed  of  demigods — five  hundred 
of  them  effectively  patrolling  the  frontiers  of  an  Empire. 
The  time  is  in  the  eighties,  just  before  the  Indian  Eebellion 
in  Western  Canada.  I  should  like  to  have  had  more  of 
the  hero's  Scotch  friends,  who  are  introduced  with  some 
circumstance  and  incontinently  and  unwisely  abandoned — • 
Dunn,  the  Scotch  International  captain  ;  Mr.  Roe,  the 
lawyer  with  the  disconcerting  smile ;  Miss  Brodie,  and 
Cameron's  sister  Moira,  bonnie  lassies  both. 


Superannuated  Tragedian  (after  forcing  the  car  to  -pull  up).  "  PERMIT  MB,  Sm, 

TO  INDULGE  FOB  A  FEW  BRIEF  MOMENTS  IN  A  JOY  I  HAVE  NOT  EXPERIENCED  SINCE 
MY  LAST  STARRING  TOUR  IN   1893." 


The  only  complaint 
I  have  to  make  against 
The  Happy  Warrior 
(ALSTON  KIVEHS)  is 
that  Pcrcival,  its  hero, 
ought  to  have  been 
born  before  page  93. 
Indeed,  I  had  good 
reason  to  think  that 
Mr.  A.  S.  M.  HUTCHIN- 
SON,  whose  first  novel, 
Once  Aboard  theLugger, 
was  such  an  unquali- 
fied success,  intended 
to  waste  his  talent 
upon  a  psychological 
study  of  a  vulgar  wo- 
man, but  now  I  know 
that  even  if  he  makes 
a  false  start  he  is  only 
getting  up  steam  "for 
sorriething  absolutely 
fresh  and  original.  The 
plot  of  this  story 
(breathless  after  page 
93)  is  very  slight,  for, 
although  the  vulgir 
woman  thinks  that  she  is  a  peeress,  and  contrives  a  great 
future  for  her  amiable  but  effeminate  son,  the  reader  knows 


In  Tfui  Trinity  Foot  Beagles  (ARNOLD),  Mr.  F.  C.  KEMP- 
SON  has  compiled  a  history  of  the  well-known  pack  which, 
under  the  management  of  undergraduates,  has  for  more 
than  fifty  years  hunted  hares  over  the  heavy  soil  of  Cam- 
bridgeshire. Mr.  KEMPSON  is,  I  gather,  a  parson  of  the 
sporting  sort,  and  he  declares  himself  to  be  an  "  hereditary 
Barbarian,"  meaning  that  he  is  devoted  to  field  sports  as 
opposed  to  games,  which  are  pursued,  he  says,  by  Philis- 
tines. But  Mr.  KEMPSON,  I  further  gather,  has  been  a 
rowing  man,  and  he  is  therefore  in  the  supreme  position  of 
being  both  a  Barbarian  and  a  Philistine.  The  book  is  put 
together,  if  I  may  say  so,  in  a  somewhat  disconnected  way ; 


Not,  however,  until  the 
end  of   the  book   is  Percival  aware  of   his  rank,  and  by 


that  the  hero  is  really  the  peer. 


that  time  he  has  formed  a  warm  affection  for  the  pseudo- 
peer,  and  has  also  "  made  things  hum."  Chafing  undei 
the  restraints  of  village  life  he  joined  a  kind  of  travelling 
show,  and  while  living  this  roving  existence  he  won  tho  most 
glorious  fight.  "One  of  the  real  one's,  one  of  the  clean 
breds,  one  of  the  true-blues,  one  of  the  all-rights,  one  of  the 
get-there,  stop-there,  win-there — one  o'  the  picked" — is  the 
description  given  to  Percival,  and  I  am  very  content  to 
leave  him  at  that.  To  those  who  are  prepared  to  overlook 
the  author's  false  start  (I  am  sorry  to  be  so  insistent  about 
that,  but  I  resent  those  initial  pages)  and  to  step  off  the 
soundly  beaten  track  of  commonplace  fiction,  I  most  warmK 
recommend  Mr.  HUTCHINSON  and  his  Happy  Warrior. 


"  The  second  portion  of  the  Rue  Edouard  VII.  will  be  in  the  forn 
of  an  arcade,  occupied  by  bishops  of  the  best  class." — Londcti  lii.dijc'. 

It  is  possible  to  overdo  a  good  idea.     We  would  urge  tha 
a  sprinkling  of  rural  deans  and  an  archdeacon  or  two  of  the 
second  class  would  -show  up  the  bishops  better. 


JANTAKY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


19 


\ 


CHARIVARIA. 

No  ono,  wo  fancy,  was  surprised, 
though  many  were  pained,  to  lioar  that, 
Mr.  hi.ovii  (ii:oiu;K  was  ronfiuod  tlio 
otliorday  to  his  house  by  doctor's  orders. 

The  WAR  MINISTER  is  said  to  have 
advised  tlio  CHANCELLOR  not  to  worry 
about  tlio  paucity  of  doctors  for  his  In- 
suraiico  scheme.  ]fo  pointed  out  that 
the  Territorials,  in  spite  of  a  lack  of  num- 
bers, are  an  enormous  official  success. 

:;:     :|: 

Soutbend  Council  has  decided  to  ex- 
tend  the   season    next   year 
from  Easter  to  the  middle  of 
October.     Why  not  carry  it 
on    till    Christmas    and    so 
make  sure  of  some  summer 
weather?       +  ^ 
* 

At  Folkestone  last  week, 
there  was  what  is  described 
as  a  slight  earthquake  shock. 
Although  it  is  now  supposed 
to  have  been  caused  by  a 
passing  motor  omnibus  this 
will  not  prevent  the  district 
fronn  describing  itself  in  future 
as  an  English  .Riviera. 

-.;:      :!: 

When  the  French  liner 
Touraine  arrived  at  New  York 
last  week,  ex-President 
CAST  BO  of  Venezuela  was 
removed  by  an  immigration 
officer,  and  taken  to  the 
detention  pen  at  Ellis  Island. 
The  EX  -  PRESIDENT  showed 
some  indignation  at  finding 
that  the  pen  was  mightier 
than  the  sword. 

^:     :;: 

Nearly  600'  English  wild 
song  -  birds  are  being  des- 
patched to  British  Columbia. 
We  understand  that  on  their 
arrival,  before  being  dispersed, 
they  will  give  a  grand  massed 
concert  at  a  Victoria  music-hall. 

:|:     :;: 

We  give  the  story  for  what  it  is 
worth.  It  is  said  that  a  sub-editor  of 
Thf,  Pali  Mall.  Gazette  recently  sub- 


be  called  upon  to  cease  giving  to 
the  objects  of  their  adoration  worked 
Clippers  and  smoking  caps,  which  have 
an  undoubted  tendency  to  encourage  a 
love  of  ease  and  luxury. 

A  contemporary  is  advising  its 
readers,  when  advertising  for  servants, 
to  mention  what  attractions  they  have 
to  offer.  The  newly-married  couple 
who  are  able  to  announce  that  their 
glass  and  china  is  absolutely  new  and 
has  never  been  broken  before  should 
be  able  to  secure  the  pick  of  the 
market. 


The  following  notice  appears  in  the 
hall  of  a  MiiiTon  hotel : — "The  Turkey 
Trot  and  Allied  Dances  are  prohibited 
in  this  Hotel."  It  was  no  doubt  it, 
order  to  avoid  hurting  Ottoman  suscep- 
tibilities that  the  dance?  of  the  Allies 
were  included  in  the  ban. 


The  Ideal  School. 

"BuxroN  COLLEGE. 

Next   term   commences  on  Tuesday,  Sept- 
ember 17th."— Add.  in  "  Yorkshire  I'ost." 


Miniature  Liveried  Official.  "  'ERE  I  'oo  YJSB  GLAIRIN'  AT  ? 

YEH  NEVER  SEES  NONE   OP  US   COUIHSSIOyAIRBS  BETOBB?" 


It  is  sometimes  a  little  difficult  to 
know  how  to  pass  the  long  Winter 
evenings.  We  strongly  recommend  as 
a  pass-time  an  attempt  to  solve  some 
of  the  advertisements  in  our  news- 


mitted  to  an  examination  at  the  hands  i  papers.       For     example,    among    its 


of  a  phrenologist.     "  Marvellous  head- 
linos!"  reported  the  Professor. 

"  No  Dictation  !  '''"cried  The  P.  M.  G. 
"  Hooray  !  "  shouted  Tommy,  whose 
weak  point  is  spelling. 

The  Bishop  of  CARLISLE,  in  his  Nrw 
^  car  pastoral,  has  been  inveighing 
against  such  of  the  clergy  as  "  seem 
afflicted  with  incurable  indolence."  If 
matters  do  not  mend  in  this  respect  it 
is  thought  that  the  spinsters  of  England 


Situations  Wanted"  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing in  The  Daily  News : — 

MISDEB.— Whfa.,  Bate,  Pits.,  J-tn.,  Bk., 
\Vk.,  Com.,  qk.,  exp.,  rel.,  ex.  rcfs. 

In  this  instance  our  guess  at  the  truth 
would  be  that  the  advertiser  is 
willing  to  look  after  whiffs  (i.e.  to 
keep  cigars  from  going  out),  babies, 
plaintiffs,  half  -  tons,  bankrupts,  work- 
men, commissionaires,  quacks,  ex- 
presidents,  relatives,  excise-men,  and 
referees  (the  last  presumably  on  Paris 
football-grounds). 


"  Biblical  students  know  about  Knha- 
kore,"  says  The  Glasgow  Herald  With 
some  truth — though  person- 
ally we   had   to  refresh  our 
memory   with    the  Encyclo- 
pedia.   The  Glasgow  Evening 
Times,  however,    reproduces 
the  statement  as  "  Bibulous 
students  know  about  Enlui- 
j  kore."    We  may  expect,  then, 
!  to  hear  something  more  about 
it  on  Boat-Race  Night. 

"  The  toast  was  drunk  with 
enthusiasm,  after  which  Mr.  J.  V. 
Simpson  sang  '  Bannie  wee  thing,' 
while  the  Piper  played  '  My  love  '• 
but  a  lassio  yet." — Madras  Mail. 
Mr.  SIMPSON  evidently 
thought  that  the  Piper  was 
playing  "  Bonnie  wee  thing." 

J.  H.  TAYLOR,  in  an  article 
entitled  "  Golf  at  Rome  " : 

"  A  golfer  cannot  look  upon  the 
features  of  the  dying  gladiator, 
immortalised  in  the  famous  statue, 
and  think  of  the  magnificent 
courage  and  splendid  devotion  to 
his  Emperor  that  brought  him  to 
his  untimely  end,  without  it  being 
impressed  upon  his  mind  that  the 
descendants  of  such  men  must 
possess  all  the  characteristics  that 
go  to  make  a  successful  player." 
Neies  of  the  World. 

Nor  can  a  player  at  Stoke 
Poges  meditate  upon  the 
wonderful  flow  of  language 
revealed  in  the  Elegy  in  a 
Country  Churchyard  "  with- 
out it  being  impressed  upon  his  mind  " 
that  GRAY  would  have  known  what  to 
say  had  he  ever  topped  into  the  pond. 

Then   and   Now. 
THE  damosels  of  long  ago 
Were  ever  nice  when  they  said  "  No  " ; 
They  hinted,  in  their  honied  way. 
At  other  flowers  as  sweet  as  they, 
And  proffered  to  the  blighted  swain 
A  sister's  love  to  ease  his  pain. 
But  things  have  changed  in  this  respect, 
And  modern  maids,  when  they  reject, 
Just  give  their  heads  the  tiniest  toss 
And  tersely  snap  "  Abso.  imposs." 

"  BACUP  SENSATION. 
POLICEMAN  NOT  GUILTY  OF  SHOPBREAKINO." 
Is  this  so  unusual  at  Bacup  ? 


V.U..    C'XUV. 


20 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON   CHARIVAEL 


[.JANUARY  8. 


THE  PREMIER  AND  THE  BIRD. 

Bom  on  :i  si.ft  \Vint.-r:  « ith  :u-knmv- 
ledgincnU   to    his    friend,   Mr.   W.  BEACH 

THOMAS.] 

Now  any  morning  you  may  hear, 
Before  the  pinks  of  dawn  appear, 
\Vlirre  on  the  sombre  boughs  they  sit, 
Mavis  and  robin,  wivn  and  tit, 
Piping  their  introductory  bars 
"Without  respect  of  calendars  ; 
And,  what  is  worse,  without  regard 
To  the  convenience  of  the  bard, 
Caught  napping  in  the    New   Year's 

prime 
All  unprepared  with  vernal  rhyme. 

These  hints,  which  early  birds  convey, 
That  this  is  now  the  month  of  May 
Are  of  a  rudimentary  kind, 
Appealing  to  the  common  mind. 
But  there  are  other  marks,  not  missed 
By  the  accomplished  ruralist — 
More  subtle  signs,  half  hidden  from  us, 
That  don't  escape  my  friend,   BEACH 

THOMAS. 

Thus,  in  his  rambles  round  the  place, 
His  beady  orbs  have  marked  a  brace 
Of  slugs — a  most  unusual  thing — 
Strolling  about  as  though  'twere  Spring; 
Also  a  snail  (he  noticed  that) 
Taking  the  air  without  its  hat. 

Likewise  of  flowers  he  makes  report 
Citing  the  more  precocious  sort. 
With  piercing  glance  he  clapped  his  eye 

on 

The  undefeated  Dandelion, 
Fool's  Parsley,  nauseous  to  the  nose, 
Dead  Nettle  and  the  rathe  Primrose. 
By  wooded  walks  and  hedgerow  ways  he 
Chatted  with  Kex  and  modest  Daisy, 
With  Shepherd's  Purse  and  Periwinkle 
And  Canterbury  Bells  a-tinkle. 
And,  quoting  WORDSWORTH,  line  by  line, 
Lunched  with  the  Lesser  Celandine. 

Further  he  saw  a  roomy  nest, 
Fruit  of  a  gay  cock-sparrow's  zest, 
Built  for  his  young  fiancee's  use ; 
And,  should  the  Winter  keep  its  truce, 
Our  THOMAS,  in  a  week  or  so, 
Should  hail  the  swallow's  Northwarc 

Ho! 

And  in  his  note-book  scribble,  "  Hark 
I  hear  the  cuckoo's  opening  bark  !  " 

Alas  for  faith  that  meets  the  shock 
Of  disillusion's  nasty  knock, 
Of  frosts  that  blight  the  ardent  blood 
And  a  sad  nipping  in  the  bud ! 
Yet  how  can  simple  bird  or  plant 
Help  making  these  mistakes?     The 

can't. 

Innocent  little  dears,  that  lack 
A  knowledge  of  the  Almanack, 
And  think  that,  like  last  Summe 

(shame ! ) 

Winter  is  gone  before  it  came. 
And  even  minds  of  older  make 
Sometimes  commit  a  like  mistake — - 


SQUITH,   for  instance,  though,  you'd 

say, 

He  ought  by  now  to  know  his  way 
\bout  the  circling  seasons'  schedule 
And  have  it  perfect  in  his  head,  you'll 
Mud  that  he  holds  the  strange  impres- 
sion 
That  this  is  still  an  Autumn  session! 

Ye  who  would  have  your  top-notes  clear 
When  April's  actual  self  is  here, 

Don't,  in  the  depth  of  Winter,  sing 

?he  airs  of  Autumn  or  of  Spring ! 

shun  the  unseasonable  strain, 
And  spare  your  throats ;  nor,  like  those 
twain, 

?he  Songster  and  the  Man  of  State, 
~gnore  the  need  to  hibernate  1 

But,  if  you  still  insist  on  humming 
[Wes  of  a  day  long  dead  or  coming ; 
i  you  decline  to  take  a  rest 
And  must  get  something  off  your  chest ; 
["hen,  of  the  two  types,  both  absurd — 
tatesman  or  tomtit — play  the  bird  ! 
O.  S. 

BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

NEW  YEAR'S  NEWS. 

West  Boggleshire  Manor. 

DEAREST  DAPHNE, — Here,  at  Bosh 
and  Wee-Wee's,  we've  been  having  a 
ovely  time  out  with  the  West  Boggle- 
shire— positively  the  one  and  only 
motor-hunt !  We  all  follow  in  motors, 
and  the  quarry  is  a  motor-fox  1  Bosh, 
who  's  Master,  is  naturally  very  proud 
of  it.  He  says  it  was  the  only  way 
out  of  the  difficulties  made  by  those 
absurd  farmer-people,  with  their  com- 
plaints about  their  silly  poultry  being 
laten.  Our  motor-fox  gives  us  simply 
glorious  runs,  and  then  when  hounds 
oreak  him  up  he  can  quite  easily  be  put 
together  again.  If  anyone  earns  the 
brush  it 's  just  unhooked  and  handed 
to  him  (or  her),  and  then  it's  hooked 
on  again.  By  next  season  Bosh  says 
perhaps  he'll  have  a  pack  of  motor- 
hounds  as  well. 

If  we  were  men,  dearest,  I  "d  say, 
"Hats  off  to  Lady  Manocuvrerl"  for 
really  and  truly  she  is  a  clever  woman, 
et  ellc  connait  soil  monde  as  well  as  any 
of  us,  and  better  than  most.  This  is 
a  preface  to  the  news  that  one  of  the 
twins  is  actually — but  wait ! 

Marigold  and  Bluebell,  as  you  know, 
what  with  their  height,  their  twin- 
hood,  their  constant  rushing  round  and 
chattering  about  nothing,  their  ever- 
lasting, "  Oh,  isn't  it  absolutely  top- 
hole  ! "  and  their  mother's  strenuous 
efforts  on  their  behalf,  have  been,  foi 
quite  several  years  now,  a  sort  o 
double  landmark,  poor  dear  things 
(It  was  Norty  who  first  called  them 
Reculvers.)  Well,  last  July,  when  every 
body  left  town,  the  Manoeuvrers  wen 


,o  rusticate  in  some  remote  spot,  and 
nothing  more  was  heard  of  them  till 
one  began  to  meet  them  again  in  the 
autumn  at  country  houses.  And  then, 
n y  dear,  one  noticed  a  change.  Mari- 
gold, it  appeared,  had  retired  from 
msiness  and  made  over  her  share  of 
he  joint  stock-in-trade,  the  high  spirits, 
rushing  round,  chatteringabout  nothing, 
ind  "  Oh,  isn't  it  absolutely  top-hole  !  " 
o  Bluebell.  She  was  quiet,  silent,  jin':- 
>ccup6e,  wore  a  diamond  marquise  on 
ler  left  third,  and  a  dreamy,  always- 
hinking-of-/i/w  expression  on  her  face. 
There  she  sat,  twirling  her  ring  and 
smiling  to  herself.  And  several  men 
vho  before  had  scarcely  seemed  aware 

her  existence  became  quite  t-pris  of 
ler  in  this  altered  state  of  things,  and 
;nade  immense  efforts  to  get  her  to 
alk  and  laugh  as  she  used ;  but  they 
were  answered  either  at  random  or  not 
,t  all. 

Of  course  Marigold  was  asked  about 
ler  engagement,  but  all  she  would  ever 
>ay  was,  "  We  're  going  to  keep  our 
ittle  romance  quite  to  ourselves.  We 
don't  want  it  spoiled  by  being  an- 
nounced in  the  papers  and  gossiped  to 
•ags  by  all  of  you.  He  :s  gone  back  to 
lis  duties  in  India  and  he  '11  be  coming 
lome  by-and-by,  and  that 's  all  you  're 
any  of  you  going  to  know !  " 

Of  those  who  fancied  the  idea  of  cut- 
jngout  this  absent  hero  of  romance,  the 
shief  was  the  Duke  of  Derwent,  whom 
;he  Mancauvrers  gave  up  in  despair  ages 
ago.  Derwent,  who  never  yet  wanted 
anything  unless  it  belonged  to  some- 
body else,  was  quite  in  the  first  flight 
of  Marigold's  new-found  soupirants  and 
jy  degrees  became  utterly  and  entirely 
set  upon  eclipsing  the  Absent  One. 
The  more  Marigold  wouldn't  pay  any 
attention  to  what  he  said  and  the  more 
she  sat  in  corners  twirling  her  ring  and 
dreaming,  the  more  Derwent  persisted, 
iill  at  last,  when  they  were  both  at  the 
Dunstables'  with  a  large  party,  he 
succeeded  in  persuading  her  to  forget 
"  the  other  fellow  "  and  elope. 

They  went  to  town,  and  were  married 
"  on  the  20th  of  December,  suddenly,  at 
the  Eegistrar's,"  as  Norty  put  it.  Of 
course,  when  the  knot  was  fast  tied, 
Derwent  was  sorry.  But  there  was 
still  a  drop  of  sweetness  in  his  cup. 
"  How  long  will  it  be  before  that  other 
fellow  knows  you  've  shunted  him  and 
found  someone  you  like  better?"  he 
asked  with  a  chuckle  when  the  'moon 
was  about  a  week  old.  His  new  duchess 
flung  her  arms  round  his  neck.  "  Oh, 
Bobby  darling,"  she  yelled,  for  all  and 
more  than  all  her  old  high  spirits  had 
come  back,  "  you  're  the  only  man  in 
the  world  for  me.  There 's  no  '  other 
fellow,'  and  there  never  was  !  It  was 
Mamma's  idea  that  one  of  us  should 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  8,  1913. 


TUEKEY    IN    WONDERLAND. 

TURKEY  (observing  fabulous  Phoenix  rising  from   its  ashes).    "  THAT  'S     A     TRICK     EVERY     BIRD 
OUGHT    TO    KNOW.     WONDER    IF    I'M    TOO    OLD    TO    LEARN    IT." 


JANUARY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.. 


23 


THE    PSYCHOLOGICAL    MOMENT. 

Growler  (to  distressed  liarrier).  "KEB,  SIB?" 


seem  to  be  engaged,  and  we  drew  lots, 
and  it  fell  to  me ;  and  Mamma  bought 
that  ring  and  coached  me  up  in  the 
part;  and  didn't  1  do  it  well?  Oh, 
Bobby  darling,  wasn't  it  absolutely 
top-hole ! " 

Talking  of  runaway  marriages, 
there 's  quite  a  small  slump  just  now 
in  regular,  conventional,  white  satin 
and  orange  -  blossom  functions — St. 
Agatha's  and  half-a-dozen  bishops, 
church  crowded,  everybody  there — and 
people  are  taking  to  sneaking  off  to 
some  weird  church  in  the  City  or  the 
suburbs  and  being  married  without  a 
sound.  The  Oldlands  went  to  town 
last  week  for  the  wedding  of  Veronica, 
the  eldest  girl — quite  a  nice  match,  with 
everyone's  approval.  The  afternoon 
before  the  marriage-day,  when  every- 
body in  town  was  at  Oldlands  House 
for  the  "  Wedding  Present  Tea,"  in 
walked  to-morrow's  bride  and  groom 
in  travelling  kit.  "  Awfully  sorry, 
people,"  said  Veronica,  "that  you've 
all  been  asked  I.O  the  show  to-morrow, 
because  there  won't  be  one!  Teddy 
and  1  were  married  this  morning  at 
St.  Hildred's,  Islington,  and  we  're  off 
now  f.o  Friesenberg  for  the  ski-ing." 


Oh,  my  dearest  and  best,  such  a 
simply  horrid  thing  has  happened  here  ! 
I  'm  afraid  '13  will  be  a  most  odious 
year  for  your  poor  Blanche  !  On  New 
Year's  Eve  we  were  all  enormously 
careful  about  the  proper  observances — 
13  being  such  a  sinister  number.  Bosh 
said  he  'd  tried  to  get  some  hunchbacks 
to  meet  us,  but  all  the  hunchbacks  were 
engaged  ages  ago  for  the  New  Year! 
Josiah,  who  's  abroad  on  business,  sent 
me  a  wire  during  the  evening  with  such 
stodgy,  Victorian  wishes  for  the  New 
Year  that  we  all  quite  shrieked  over  it. 
As  midnight  approached  we  looked 
about  for  our  First  Foot.  The  darkest 
man  in  the  party  was  a  Col.  Briggs, 
whom  Bosh  and  Wee- Wee  met  abroad 
somewhere  last  year.  He  had  black 
hair  and  moustaches.  He  didn't  seem 
enthusiastic  about  the  job,  but  at  five 
minutes  to  twelve  we  sent  him  out  at  a 
side  door,  and  the  front  door  was  set 
open  to  let  in  the  New  Year  and  the 
First  Foot.  Then  we  danced  the  St. 
Sylvester's  waltz,  with  the  dear  old 
custom  of  one's  partner  saluting  one 
as  midnight  begins  to  strike.  Someone 
said  the  salute  should  be  given  at  the 
first  stroke  of  midnight,  and  someone 


else  said  it  should  be  given  at  the  last 
stroke.  Norty  said  they  'd  better  make 
sure  of  being  right  by  giving  it  at  each 
stroke !  And  so  we  danced,  and  mid- 
night struck,  and  the  bells  of  West 
Boggleshire  church  rang  out,  and  the 
Briggs  man  came  in,  and  we  all  wished 
each  other  everything  nice. 

Next  day,  when  some  of  us  were 
chatting  it  over,  someone  said  suddenly, 
"  I  wonder  if  the  Briggs  man  is  really 
dark !  "  "  But  what  a  hideous  thought ! " 
I  cried.  And  then  a  sort  of  panic 
seized  us.  Piggy  de  Laoey  suggested, 
"  I  might  get  my  fellow  to  ask  his  man. 
But  it  wouldn't  be  quite  cricket, 
would  it  ?  "  "  Never  mind  that,"  we 
all  gasped;  "our  happiness,  our  very 
lives  depend  upon  it.  Go,  best  of 
Piggies,  and  find  out."  And  Piggy 
went.  Presently  he  came  back.  He 
looked  at  us  with  a  composite  sort  of 
expression  on  his  face.  "Well?"  we 
all  asked  in  chorus.  "  Well,"  said 
Piggy,  "  I  got  my  fellow  to  ask  his 
man."  "  Well,"  we  shrieked,  "  and 
what  did  he  say  ?  "  Piggy  looked  round 
at  us  all  again.  "  He  said, '  Before  the 
Colonel's  'air  turned  grey  it  was  red  ! ' ' 
Ever  thine,  BLANCHE. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  8,  1913. 


MORE   SUCCESSFUL   LIVES. 

VII.—  Tin:  ADVKXTVRER. 
LIONEL  NORWOOD,  from  his  earliest 
days,  had  been  marked  out  for  a  life 
of  crime.     When  quite  a  child  he  was 
discovered  by  his  nurse  killing  flies  on 
the  window-pane.     This  was  before  the 
character  of  the  house-fly  had  become 
a    matter    of    common     talk     among 
scientists,    and  Lionel   (like  all  great 
men,    a    little    before    his    time)   had 
pleaded    hygiene    in    vain.      He    was 
smacked  hastily  and  bundled  off  to  a 
preparatory  school,  where  his  aptitude 
for  smuggling  sweets  would  have  lost 
him  many  a  half-holiday  had  not  his 
services  been   required   at   outside-left 
in    the  hockey    eleven.      With    some 
difficulty  he    managed    to    pass    into 
Eton,  and  three  years  later — with,  one 
would  imagine,  still  more  difficulty — 
managed  to  get  superannuated.  At  Cam- 
bridge he  went  down-hill  rapidly.     He 
would  think  nothing  of  smoking  a  cigar 
in  academical  costume,  and  on  at  least 
one  occasion  he   drove  a    dogcart    on 
Sunday.     No  wonder  that  he  was  re- 
quested, early  in  his  second  year,  to  give 
up  his  struggle  with  the  Little-go  and 
betake  himself  back  to  London. 

London  is  always  glad  to  welcome 
such  people  as  Lionel  Norwood.  In  no 
other  city  is  it  so  simple  for  a  man  of 
easy  conscience  to  earn  a  living  by  his 
wits.  If  Lionel  ever  had  any  scruples 
(which,  after  a  perusal  of  the  above 
account  of  his  early  days,  it  may  be 
permitted  one  to  doubt)  they  were  re- 
moved by  an  accident  to  his  solicitor, 
who  was  run  over  in  the  Argentine  on 
the  very  day  that  he  arrived  there  with 
what  was  left  of  Lionel's  money.  Ee- 
duced  suddenly  to  poverty,  Norwood 
had  no  choice  but  to  enter  upon  a 
life  of  crime. 

Except,  perhaps,  that  he  used 
slightly  less  hair-oil  than  most,  he 
seemed  just  the  ordinary  man  about 
town  as  he  sat  in  his  dressing-gown 
one  fine  summer  morning  and  smoked 
a  cigarette.  His  rooms  were  furnished 
quietly  and  in  the  best  of  taste.  No 
signs  of  his  nefarious  profession  showed 
themselves  to  the  casual  visitor.  The 
appealing  letters  from  the  Princess 
whom  he  was  blackmailing,  the  wire 
apparatus  which  shot  the  two  of  spades 
down  his  sleeve  during  the  coon-can 
nights  at  the  club,  the  thimble  and  pea 
with  which  he  had  performed  the  three- 
card  trick  so  successfully  at  Epsom  last 
week— all  these  were  hidden  away  from 
the  common  gaze.  It  was  a  young 
gentleman  of  fashion  who  lounged  in 
his  chair  and  toyed  with  a  priceless 
straight-cut. 

There  was   a   tap  at  the  door,  and 
Master?,  his  confidential  valet,  came  in. 


'  have 


y» 


"  Well,"    said    Lionel, 
looked  through  the  post  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  said  the  man.  "  There 
the  usual  cheque  from  Her  Highnes 
a  request  for  more  time  from  the  lad 
in  Tite  Street  with  twopence  to  pay  o 
the  envelope,  and  banknotes  from  th 
Professor  as  expected.  Tlio  youn 
gentleman  of  Hill  Street  has  gon 
abroad  suddenly,  Sir." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Lionel,  with  a  sudde 
frown.  "  I  suppose  you  "d  better  cros 
him  off  our  list,  Masters." 

"  Yes,  Sir.  I  had  ventured  to  do  so 
Sir.  I  think  that 's  all,  except  that  Mi 
Snooks  is  glad  to  accept  your  kin< 
invitation  to  dinner  and  bridge  to-nighl 
Will  you  Wear  the  hair-spring  coat,  Sir 
or  the  metal  clip  1 " 

Lionel  made  no  answer.  He  sa 
plunged  in  thought.  When  he  spoki 
it  was  about  another  matter. 

"  Masters,"  he  said,  "  I  have  foum 
out  Lord  Fairlie's  secret  at  last.  ". 
shall  go  to  see  him.  this  afternoon." 

"  Yes,  Sir.  Will  you  wear  your 
revolver,  Sir,  as  it 's  a  first  call  ?  " 

"  I  think  so.  If  this  comes  off 
Masters,  it  will  make  our  fortune." 

"  I  hope  so,  I  'm  sure,  Sir."  Masters 
placed  the  whisky  within  reach  anc 
left  the  room  silently. 

Alone,  Lionel  picked  up  his  paper 
and  turned  to  the  Agony  Column. 

As  everybody  knows,  the  Agony 
Column  of  a  daily  paper  is  not  actually 
so  domestic  as  it  seems.  When 
"  MOTHER  "  apparently  says  to  "  FLOSS," 
"  Come  homo  at  once.  Father  gone 
away  for  week.  Bert  and  Sid  longing 
to  see  you,"  what  is  really  happening 
is  that  Barney  Hoker  is  telling  Jud 
Batson  to  meet  him  outside  the  Duke 
of  Westminster's  little  place  at  3  A.M. 
precisely  on  Tuesday  morning,  not 
forgetting  to  bring  his  jemmy  and  a 
dark  lantern  with  him.  And  FLOSS'S 
announcement  next  day,  "  Coming 
home  with  George,"  is  Jud's  way  of 
saying  that  he  will  turn  up  all  right, 
and  half  thinks  of  bringing  his  auto- 
matic pistol  with  him  too,  in  case  of 
accidents. 

In  this  language — which,  of  course, 
takes  some  little  learning  —  Lionel 
Norwood  had  long  been  an  expert. 
The  advertisement  which  he  was  now 
reading  was  unusually  elaborate : 

"Lost,  in  a  taxi  between  Baker 
Street  and  Shepherd's  Bush,  a  gold- 
mounted  umbrella  with  initials  '  J.  P.' 
on  it.  If  Ellen  will  return  to  her  father 
immediately  all  will  be  forgiven.  White 
spot  on  foreleg.  Mother  very  anxious 
and  desires  to  return  thanks  for  kind 
enquiries.  Answers  to  the  name  of 
Ponto.  Bis  dat  qiti  cito  dat." 

What  did  it  mean?  For  Lionel  it 
had  no  secrets.  He  was  reading  the 


revelation  by  one  of  his  agents  of  th 
skeleton  in  Lord  Fairlie's  cupboard  ! 

Lord  Fairlie  was  one  of  the  mos 
distinguished  members  of  the  Cabinet 
His  vein  of  high  seriousness,  hi 
lofty  demeanour,  the  sincerity  of  hi 
manner  endeared  him  not  only  to  1m 
own  party,  but  even  (astounding  as  i 
may  seem)  to  a  few  high-minded  men 
upon  the  other  side,  who  admitted 
in  moments  of  expansion  which  thej 
probably  regretted  afterwards,  that  hi 
might,  after  all,  be  as  devoted  to  his 
country  as  they  were.  For  years  now 
his  life  had  been  without  blemish.  I 
was  impossible  to  believe  that  even  in 
his  youth  he  could  have  sown  anj 
wild  oats  ;  terrible  to  think  that  these 
wild  oats  might  now  be  coming  home 
to  roost. 

"What  do  you  require  of  me?"  he 
said  courteously  to  Lionel,  as  the  lattei 
was  shown  into  his  study. 

Lionel  went  to  the  point  at  onco. 
"  I  am  here,  my  lord,"  he  snid,  "  011 
Business.  In  the  course  of  my  ordinary 
avocations" — the  parliamentary  at- 
iiospbere  seemed  to  be  affecting  his 
anguage — "I  ascertained  a  certain 
secret  in  your  past  life  which,  if  it  were 
•evealed,  might  conceivably  have  a  not 
undamaging  effect  upon  your  career. 
?or  my  silence  in  this  matter  I  must 
demandasum  of  fifty  thousand  pounds." 

Lord  Fairlie  had  grown  paler  and 
jaler  as  this  speech  proceeded. 

"What  have  you  discovered?"  he 
vhispered.  Alas !  he  knew  only  too 
well  what  the  damning  answer  would  be. 

"  Twenty  years  ago,"   said    Lionel, 

you  wrote  a  humorous  book." 

Lord  Fairlie  gave  a  strangled  cry. 
lis  keen  mind  recognised  in  a  flash  what 

hold  this  knowledge  would  give  his 
nemies.  Shafts  of  Folly,  his  book 
ad  been  called.  Already  he  saw  the 
sading  articles  of  the  future  : — 

"  We  confess  ourselves  somewhat  at 

loss  to  know  whether  Lord  Fairlie's 
peech  at  Plymouth  yesterday  was 
ntended  as  a  supplement  to  his  earlier 
ork,  Shafts  of  Folly,  or  as  a  serious 
ffering  to  a  nation  impatient  of  levity 
n  such  a  crisis.  .  .  ." 

"  The  Cabinet's  jester,  in  whom 
wenty  years  ago  the  country  lost  an 
xcellent  clown  without  gaining  a  states- 
nan,  was  in  great  form  last  night.  .  .  ." 

'Lord  Fairlie  has  amused  us  in  the 
ast  with  his  clever  little  parodies  ;  he 
lay  amuse  us  in  the  future ;  but  as  a 
tatesman  we  can  only  view  him  with 
isgust.  ..." 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Lionel  at  last.  "  I 
link  your  lordship  is  wise  enough  to 
ndersland.  The  discovery  of  a  sense  of 
umour  in  a  man  of  your  eminence " 

But  Lord  Fairlie  was  already  writing 
ut  the  cheque.  A.  A.  M. 


JANUABY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


HouseJiolder  (au-aTitnetl) .  "\VHAT  THE 


OH,  LORD!    ANOTHER  CHRISTMAS-BOX, 


THE    WINTER 

MY  wife,  my  Oxford  son,  my  daughters  three 
(Named  Mary,  Ralph,  Iseult,  Elaine  and  Nesta) 

Have  flown  off  to  the  Engadine  to  ski 

And  skate  and  risk  their  limbs  upon  the  Cresta, 

Their  view  of  life,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
Being  to  make  it  one  continual  fcsta  ; 

While  I,  the  patient  drudge  in  duty's  mill, 

Remain  in  town  and  drive  the  daily  quill. 

Think  not,  however,  that  I  mean  to  "  make 

A  song  about  it,"  piteously  appealing 
For  sympathy  because  my  children  take 

Their  walks  abroad  while  I  remain  at  Ealing ; 
I  haven't  got  a  "  travel-thirst  "  to  slake ; 

Davos  no  more  attracts  mo  than  Darjeeling ; 
I  loathe  the  cold ;  hotels  are  uninviting  ; 
And,  lastly,  London  's  hugely  more  exciting. 

There  's  not  a  crossing  but  some  taxi-cab 

May  start  you  running  for  your  life  and  floor  you. 

There 's  not  a  'bus  but  women  tiy  to  jab 

Their  horrid  hatpins  in  your  face  and  gore  you  ; 

The  skies,  I  own,  are  dull,  the  outlook  drab, 
But  here  the  human  beings  never  bore  you, 

With  militants  who  war  on  all  in  trousers, 

And  Letts  who  run  amok  with  murderous  Mausers. 

Hero  not  a  week  can  pass  completely  by 
Without  a  missive  from  some  moneyleaders 

Offering  me  untold  gold — 1  know  not  why ; 
I  just  return  it  stainpless  to  the  senders ; 


SPORTSMAN. 

Wine-merchants  for  my  custom  daily  vie 

With  cider-makers  or  with  whisky-blenders, 
As  keen  about  replenishing  my  cellars 
As  if  I  were  the  best  of  ROCKEFELLEKS. 

Then  as  for  games,  why  should  I  search  for  sport 

In  the  vicinity  of  Chiavenna, 
When  I  can  to  the  gallery  resort 

And  see  Tartaric  Tim  give  "  Shawn  "  Gehenna, 
Or  hear  the  Taffies  truculently  snort 

Defiance  at  the  maladroit  McKENNA, 
Or  watch  the  daily  cranial  distension 
Of  Ministers  whose  names  I  need  not  mention  ? 

Moreover,  here,  and  here  alone,  one  knows 
The  joy  of  tasting  Mr.  GARVIN'S  leaders, 

Fresh  and  red-hot,  as  forth  the  lava  flows 
And  scarifies  all  Unionist  seceders, 

Or  proves  the  triumph  that  awaits  our  foes 
If  we  become  a  nation  of  free-feeders. 

(They  get  them  two  days  later  up  at  Sils, 

But  there  they  miss  his  name  upon  the  bills.) 

You  '11  say  the  grapes  are  sour.     Perhaps  they  are. 

The  point  is  personal  and  matters  little. 
I  only  know  that  Switzerland  is  far ; 

That  bobsleighs  seem  to  me  extremely  kittle ; 
That  falls,  on  ski  or  skates,  the  system  jar, 

And  bones,  when  men  are  elderly,  grow  brittle ; 
And,  if  I  must  take  part  in  a  gymkhana, 
Let  it  be  held  in  London,  not  Montana. 


26 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  8,  1913. 


THE    PARTY. 

"  WHAT,"  I  said,  "  is  this  rumour  about  a  party  ?  " 

"  Rumour  ?  "  said  Francesca.  "  I  liave  hoard  no  rumours. 
And,  if  it  comes  to  that,  what  is  a  rumour?  " 

'•  A  rumour,"  I  said,  "is  evidently  something  which  you 
know  you  have  not  heard.  It  therefore  follows  that  if  you 
heard  it  you  would  recognise  it,  and,  that  being  so,  you 
must  know  what  it  is,  for  otherwise " 

"  For  otherwise,"  she  said,  "  I  should  know  what  I  don't 
know,  and  I  should  not  be  expected  to  wait  here  half  the 
morning  in  order  to  answer  idle  questions." 

"  Since  the  word  '  rumour  '  gives  you  pain,"  I  said,  "  I 
will  withdraw  it,  expressing  at  the  same  time  my  most 

sincere  regret  at  having  said  anything  which  might " 

(Loud  cheers,  in  which  the  conclusion  of  the  hon.  member's 
sentence  was  lost).  "But  what,"  I  added,  "  is  all  this  about 
a  party  ?  " 

"  A  party  ?  "  she  said.  "  Who  has  said  anything  about  a 
party  ?  What  can  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Francesca,"  I  said  with  determination,  "  I  will  be  plain 
with  you " 

"No,  no,"  she  interrupted,  "not  that.  But,  after  all, 
why  should  I  complain  ?  Good  looks  are  nothing." 

"  Good  looks,"  I  said,  "  are  better  than  a  ribald  tongue." 

"  But  some  people,"  she  said,  "  have  got  both,  and  that 
must  be  splendid  for  them." 

"  Evasions,"  I  said,  "  will  not  help  you.  What  is  all  this 
about  a  party  on  Saturday  next  ?  " 

"  Oh,  J/iaV-said  Francesca.  "  If  that 's  what  you  mean, 
why  couldn't  you  say  it  before  ?  " 

"  Apparently,"  I  said,  "  that  is  what  I  mean  ;  and  I  have 
been  saying  it  over  and  over  again  since  I  began." 

"  You  should  guard,"  she  said,  "  against  repetition.  It 
is  wearisome  and  unnecessary." 

"What  is  the  nature,"  I  said,  "of  next  Saturday's  party?" 

"  Its  nature  is  that  it  isn't  really  a  party  at  all.  If  I 
said  it  was  I  have  deceived  you.  It  is  a  children's  dance." 

"  But  a  children's  dance,"  I  urged,  "  is  a  party.  It  has 
all  the  qualities  that  distinguish  a  party.  It  causes 
inconvenience.  It  gives  no  enjoyment." 

"  You  couldn't  persuade  the  children  of  that.  Tell  them 
it's  not  to  come  off,  and  see  what  they  say." 

"  Poor  dears,"  I  said,  "  they  are  ignorant.  It  would  be 
useless  to  appeal  to  them.  But,  if  they  enjoy  it,  why  are 
they  so  solemn  and  silent  ?  Tell  me  that." 

"  Oh  !  that 's  only  at  first,"  said  Francesca.  "  If  you 
come  into  this  room  after  they  've  been  at  it  half-an-hour 
you  '11  find  them  enjoying  it  all  right." 

" Into  this  room  ?  "  I  said.  "Francesca,  you  are  forgetting 
yourself.  This  is  my  room." 

"  Of  course  it  is ;  and  it 's  the  largest  room  in  the  house, 
and  much  the  best  for  dancing ;  and  you  're  going  to  lend  it 
to  us  for  that  day,  like  a  generous  true-hearted  British 
father." 

"  And,"  I  said,  "  all  the  furniture  will  be  taken  out  and 
all  my  papers  will  be  disturbed  and  lost,  and  the  carpet 
will  be  removed,  and  the  books  will  be  put  into  the  shelves 
in  their  wrong  places.  Is  this  what  you  propose  ?  " 

"  Something  like  that,"  she  said,  "  will  probably  happen. 
You  wouldn't  have  them  dance  in  all  this  litter." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  them  dance  at  all,"  I  said.  "  Francesca, 
I  forbid  the  moving  of  my  writing-table." 

"  The  writing-table,"  she  said,  "  will  be  the  first  to  go. 
But  you  talk  as  if  you  'd  heard  of  all  this  for  the  first  time." 

"  And  that,"  I  said,  "  is  the  solemn  truth.  No  man  in 
England  is  less  easily  surprised  than — me  or  I ;  which  is  it, 
Francesca  ?  " 

"  And,"  she  said,  "  you  don't  even  know  your  grammar. 


To  think  that  an  ungrammatical  man  should   dream   of 
stopping  a  children's  dance." 

"  I  will  circumvent  the  grammar,"  I  said.  "  I  am  the 
least  easily  surprised  man  in  England,  but  to-day,  I  own, 
you  have  startled  me.  Not  one  word  of  this  dance  have  I 
ever  heard  whispered  or " 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  you  haven't.  Every  day  for  the  past 
three  weeks  I  've  shouted  it  at  you." 

"  Your  gentle  nature  would  never  permit  you  to  shout," 
I  said.  "  But  I  do  remember  that  some  time  ago  you  said 
quite  casually  that  it  would  be  a  nice  thing  for  the  children 
to  have  a  dance." 

"  There  you  are,"  said  Francesca  ;  "  didn't  I  say  so  ?  " 

"  And  I  replied  that  this  modern  craze — 

"  I  know  perfectly  well  what  you  replied.  It  did  you  no 
credit  and  you  mustn't  say  it  again." 

"  And  from  that  moment,"  I  went  on,  "  you  have,  I 
suppose,  been  stealthily  planning  this  dance.  And  Muriel 
and  Nina  and  Alice  were  in  the  conspiracy,  of  course.  But 
what  of  Frederick,  my  little  five-year-old  barbarian  ?  How 
did  you  secure  his  silence  ?  Surely  he  cannot  approve  of 
dancing?" 

"The  barbarian  mind,"  she  said,  "is  susceptible  to  the 
promise  of  ices.  He  believes  that  on  Saturday  a  world 
entirely  composed  of  ices  is  to  be  at  his  disposal.  You 
had  better  resign  yourself  to  the  dance." 

"Francesca,"  I  said,  "something  dreadful  ought  to  happen 
to  you." 

"  Something  dreadful,"  she  said,  "  has  happened." 

"  I  know,"  I  said.  "  The  man  who  plays  the  piano  has 
got  the  influenza." 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"  The  greengrocer  has  sprained  his  ankle  and  cannot  come 
in  to  pour  out  lemonade." 

"  Worse  even  than  that,"  she  said.  "  Your  Aunt  Matilda, 
who  likes  children  in  their  proper  place,  has  announced 
herself  for  a  three  days'  visit  from  Friday  next." 

"  Which  serves  you,"  I  said,  "  absolutely  right." 

"  And,  of  course,"  said  Francesca,  "  you  will  have  to 
devote  yourself  to  her  on  Saturday.  After  all,  she  has  a 
kind  nature  in  spite  of  her  sharp  tongue,  poor  old  dear." 

E.  C.  L.  ' 


BY    THE    OPPOSITE    EOUTE. 

WHEN  he  was  called  he  turned  over  and  went  to  sleep 
again.  When  he  got  up  he  decided  that  he  would  get 
himself  shaved  professionally  on  his  way  to  the  office. 

He  read  the  newspaper  solidly  through  breakfast.  On 
two  occasions  he  contradicted  his  wife.  He  took  the  odd 
piece  of  toast.  In  putting  on  his  boots  he  swore  quite 
wantonly  (on  the  testimony  of  his  wife). 

He  continued  the  day  in  the  same  strain  of  dogged  laxity. 
At  lunch  he  prolonged  his  usual  interval  of  ninety  minutes 
to  one  of  a  hundred-and-twenty  minutes.  By  5  P.M.  he  had 
smoked  six  cigars. 

Then  he  telephoned  to  his  wife  to  come  and  have  dinner 
in  town  and  go  to  a  theatre,  knowing  that  she  would  refuse. 
He  thereupon  carried  out  his  programme  en  garqon,  in  the 
teeth  of  her  imperfectly  transmitted  resentment. 

Arriving  home,  he  had  a  last  unnecessary  whisky  and 
soda.  Finally  (as  he  tramped  upstairs  in  his  boots)  he 
murmured  with  satisfaction,  "Now  you  know  what  to 
expect,  New  Year !  " 

On  the  2nd  of  January  he  returned  inevitably- — like 
everyone  else — to  the  happy  human  mean  of  moderate  im- 
perfection. But — contrary  to  everyone  else — he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  ho  was  being  a  better  man  than 
he  had  set  out  to  be. 


JANUARY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


27 


FLIGHTING. 

])i<;i:i-  the  ditch  and  very  muddy, 

And  the  time  serins  very  Ion;;  ; 
There's  a,  sunset  wild  and  ruddy, 

The  West  roars  a  song  ; 
And  the  dusk  is  just  a-falling 

And  it 's  lonesome  as  can  be 
Ere  the  geese  come  in  a-calling 

(311  the  cold  wet  sea  1 

Yrs,  'tis  lonesome  in  the  ditches 

(Where's  the  whistle  of  the  wings ?) 
And  the  dusk  is  full  of  witches 

And  of  Big  Black  Things ; 
Funk,  blue  funk  for  him  who  strikes  it 

Has  the  bogey-haunted  bog, 
And  the  only  one  who  likes  it 

Is  a  red  wet  dog  ! 

He  's  a-twitch  to  hear  the  whicker 

Of  the  pinions  down  the  sky, 
While  the  ghosts  they  bawl  and  bicker 

And  the  gusts  boom  by ; 
And  you  pat  him  for  protection— 

Ah,  you  hardly  would  suppose 
So  much  comfort  and  affection 

In  a  cold  wet  nose ! 

Hark,  the  gaggle  I  Up  the  gun,  then — 

'Twas  the  neatest  left-and-right ; 
"Fetch  'em,  boy,  and  we '11  be  done,  then, 

Two  's  enough  to-night ; 
Leave  the  shadows  to  their  sinking, 

Leave  the  ghosts  their  howling  glee, 
It 's  yourself  that  will  be  thinking 

Of  your  hot  wet  tea !  " 


AFTEEMAS. 

A  PROJECT  is  on  foot,  supported  by 
a  number  of  influential  tradesmen,  to 
inaugurate  a  New  Season  of  present- 
giving,  supplementary  to  Christmas 
and  New  Year's  Day,  to  be  called 
Aftermas.  It  will,  it  is  believed,  fill  a 
long-felt  want. 

The  origin  of  Aftermas  is  the  disap- 
pointment with  her  own  gifts  recently 
experienced  by  a  well-known  Society 
lady  on  viewing  those  of  her  fellow 
guests  in  a  country  house  at  Yule-tide. 

"  Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "you  seem 
to  have  received  everything  that  I 
really  wanted  i " 

"  But,"  was  the  natural  reply,  "  were 
you  not  asked  what  you  would  like  ?  " 

"I  was,"  she  said,  "but  I  couldn't 
for  the  life  of  me  think.  Now  I  know." 

This  charming  person  had  struck  on 
a  basic  truth  of  life,  namely  that  envy 
rs  stronger  than  choice,  and  it  is  this 
fundamental  human  foible  which  the 
Now  Season  will  do  much  to  satisfy. 

The  root  idea  of  Aftermas  is  the 
giving  of  the  presents  which  we  know 
beyond  question  that  our  friends  will 
like.  Everyone  will  admit  that  Christ- 
mas and  New  Year's  Day  rarely  leave 
us  with  the  best  things  ;  Aftermas  will 


Lift  Attendant.  " POUBTH  FLOOR:    LADIES'  COSTUMES,   MILLTNEBY,  BOOTS',   SHOES  AND 
"OSERY."  Breathless  Old  Lady  (hopelessly  lost).  "  I-I-IBEMUNQBY." 

Lift  Attendant.  "  RESTAUBANT,  TOP  FLOOR."     (Whisks  her  tip.) 


do  so.  To  some  extent,  it  may  be  urged, 
New  Year's  Day  ought  to  do  so  now, 
since  it  is  a  week  later  than  Christmas. 
But  as  a  matter  of  practical  politics 
this  is  not  so.  Christmas  itself  is  a 
dies  non  (as  the  learned  say).  Boxing 
Day  is  another  of  the  same  Latin  bunch, 
and  the  days  that  immediately  follow 
are  not  adapted  for  correspondence,  even 
if  one's  friends  were  disposed  so  soon 
to  go  shopping  once  more,  an  ordeal 
from  which  they  naturally  shrink  after 
their  recent  terrible  experiences. 

Thus,  as  a  corrective  to  the  mala- 
droitness  of  Christmas  benefactions, 
New  Year's  Day  is  of  little  use.  But 
Aftermas  should  fulfil  every  condition, 
since  it  has  been  decided  to  put  the 
date  well  forward,  even  as  far  as  the 
end  of  January,  to  give  everyone  time 


really  to  examine  the  presents  of  their 
friends  and  make  up  their  minds  abso- 
lutely. Lists  will  then  be  sent  in  and 
— well,  they  will  see  what  they  will  see. 
Arising  out  of  this  Aftermas  move- 
ment is  a  scheme,  much  favoured  in 
Bond  Street,  to  set  apart  the  second 
Monday  in  every  month  throughout  the 
year  as  a  day  on  which  friends  should 
exchange  valuable  gifts.  A  plan  to  bring 
back  the  glories  of  February  14  with 
really  expensive  valentines  is  also  afoot, 
and  there  are  supporters  also  of  the 
birthdays  of  Messrs.  ASQUITH,  BONAR 
LAW,  KEDMOND  and  MACDONALD  as 
occasions  to  be  ear-marked  for  genial 
contests  in  generosity  among  friends. 
But  at  present  the  weight  of  the  attack 
is  being  directed  to  the  solid  establish- 
ment of  Aftermas. 


28 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANCABY    8,    1913. 


Mother  (after  relating  pathetic  story).  "Now,  REGGIE,  WOULDN'T  YOU  LIKE  TO  GIVE  youa  BUNNY  TO.  THAT  POOR  LITTLE  HOT  TOO 
SAW  TO-DAY  WHO  HASN'T  AST  FATHEE?"  Reggie  (clutching  rabbit).  "  COULDN'T  WE  GIVE  HIM  FATHEB  INSTEAD?" 


THE    RENEGADE. 

(A  memory  of  Yule,  and  dedicated  to  Mr.  GEORGE 
RUSSELL,  who  writes  innocenily  in  "  Thz  Manchester 
Guardian" :  "Still,  let  not  the  vegetarian  lift  up  his 
horn  against  the  meat-eater :  I  havz  seen  gross  excesses 
committed  in  plum-pudding.") 

THIS  is  the  tragedy  of  Mary  Smith 

(My  cousin),  who  supposed  that  it  was  criminal 

To  slay  one's  brother  ox  and  eat  him  with 

Mustard   and   what   not.     .Bless  your  heart,  sorna 
women  '11 

Believe  in  anything.     Each  crank  's  a  prophet. 

Mary  became  a  veg.     Just  now  she  's  off  it. 

It  started  when,  some  month  or  more  ago 

(I  will  say  this,  that  Mary  did  not  err  long), 
She  haled  me  to  that  house  of  fear  and  woe, 

The  restaurant  of  Mr.  Ambrose  Furlong : ' 
And  all  about  us  sat  (ye  saints,  deliver  us !) 
The  glum-faced  armies  of  the  graminivorous. 
There  was  a  deathly  silence  o'er  the  place, 

Save  only  when,  amid  the  murk  and  stillness, 
A  nut  went  off;  the  food  I  could  not  face, 

But  trifled  with  some  tracts  on  "  Human  Illness," 
The  Way  to  Better  Life:  Flesh  Food  and  Nemesis," 
Till  Mary  finished,  and  we  left  the  premises. 


It  was  the  festal  board, 
honours  vowed   to 


various 


Yule- 


The  scene  is  changed. 

Graced  with   the 

tide ; 
The  turkey  queened  it,  and  the  beef  was  lord, 

But  Mary,  by  the  doctrines  of  her  school  tied, 
Though  wistful  glances  stole  across  her  features, 
Disdained  to  batten  on  her  fellow-creatures. 

Till,  ringed  with  dancing  flame,  divinely  brown, 
With  white  hair  glistening  and  with  scarlet  berry, 

The  Bacchant  pudding  in  the  cloth  camo  down, 
Hailed  by  a  revel  cheer;  and,  now  grown  merry, 

Ev'n  she,  the  death's  head,  scouting  melancholy, 

Was  fain  to  eat,  and  cut  into  the  folly. 

When  "No,"  I  said,  and  stayed  her  with  the  thought, 
"  This  is  your  kinsman.     No,  you  must  not  do  it. 

The  fare  you  ask  for,  by  some  go'd  distraught, 
Is  principally  made  of  best  beef  suet. 

In  pomp  of  old  he  ranged  betwixt  the  hedges 

(All  but  the  plums).    Where,  traitress,  are  your  pledges  ?  ' 

And  Mary  heard,  and  Mary's  cheek  grew  pale ; 

Her  spirit  strove  and  underwent  contortion, 
Then  yielded  suddenly,  and  chanced  the  bale. 

"  Hang  it,"  she  cried,  and  took  a  hefty  portion. 
Since  when,  apostate  proved,  she  daily  smothers 
Her  natural  feelings  and  devours  her  brothers. 

EVOK. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JANL-AHY  8,  1913. 


MARKING    TIME. 


ANN  (during  a  hitch).  "  SHALL    WE    EVER    GET    TO    THE    DOCTOR'S?" 
CHAUFFEUR  LLOYD  GEORGE  (hopefully).  "  OH,    YES  ;     SOONER    OR    LATER." 

MAKV  ANN-.  "  WELL,    I    THOUGHT    I'D    ASK,    'CAUSE    I    SEE    THE    TICKER'S    GOING    ON 
AS    HARD    AS    EVER." 


JANUARY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


31 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIAIVZ  o»  TOBY,  M.P.) 


HOGMANAY  IN  LONDON. 

At  the  New  Year's  Eve  Supper,  given  by  the  Senior  Liberal  Whip  by  way  of  consolation  to  the  Scottish  Members,  the  Brothers 
WASON  bring  down  the  house. 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  Decem- 
ber 30. — Members  back  again  after 
shortest  Christmas  recess  known  to 
history.  Nervous  anxiety  prevalent  in 
Whips'  Room  reflected  on  Treasury 
Bench.  Ambush  apprehended.  BAN- 
BURY'B  famous  manoeuvre,  with  its 
practical  result  of  adding  a  full  week  to 
uncanny  extension  of  session,  might 
encourage  further  effort  on  same  lines. 

Apart  from  other  considerations  effect 
of  the  successful  ambush  has  been 
distinctly  favourable  to  the  Party 
for  whose  repulse  it  was  arranged. 
Confident  in  an  overwhelming  majority 
Ministerialists  had  grown  slack  in 
attendance.  Snap  division  altered  that. 
Majorities  that  used  normally  to  be 
somewhere  about  the  round  hundred 
have  advanced  by  a  score,  occasionally 
two. 

Nevertheless  this  first  night  of  re- 
assembling of  House  looked  forward  to 
with  apprehension.  Whip  circulated 
urging  attendance  of  all  sections  of 
Ministerialists.  Specially  requested  to 


be  in  their  places  promptly  on  com- 
mencement of  public  business.  Sum- 
mons loyally  obeyed.  Glance  round 
benches  at  Question  time  indicated  to 
all  whom  it  might  concern  that  if  there 
were  ambuscade  within  precincts  of 
House  patriotic  gentlemen  recruited 
for  the  purpose  might  as  well  stroll  in 
with  unconcerned  looks  as  who  should 
say,  "  What  a  wet  Christmas  we  have 
had,  to  be  sure  1 " 

Ministers  themselves  careful  to  turn 
up.  Treasury  Bench  even  inconveniently 
crowded.  Others  full  both  above  and 
below  Gangway.  At  6  o'  clock,  when 
first  division  was  taken,  Government 
majority  ran  up  to  131,  with  total 
vote  of  more  than  two  to  one. 

Business  done. — Time-table  for  Re- 
port Stage  of  Home  Rule  Bill  arranged. 

Tuesday. — If  you  have  ever  observed 
a  middle-aged  gentleman  of  bland 
countenance  and  military  bearing  strol- 
ling down  a  country  lane,  coming  to 
what  looks  like  innocent  wisp  of  hay, 
stooping  down  to  examine  it  more 


closely,  and  finding  that  it  covers  a 
wasps'  nest,  you  will  get  some  idea  of 
to-day's  adventures  of  Sir  REGINALD 
POLE  CABEW,  K.C.B.,  C.V.O.  Started 
afternoon  in  quite  good  form.  Had  on 
paper  group  of  questions  designed  to 
confound  SECRETARY  OF  STATE  FOR 
WAR.  When  SEELY,  after  manner  of 
Ministers,  attempted  to  evade  attack, 
POLE  down  upon  him  with  further 
question  "arising  out  of  that  answer." 
Possibly  it  was  mellow  satisfaction 
suffused  by  this  successful  sortie  that 
lured  the  gallant  General  to  destruction. 
However  that  be,  debate  on  Report 
Stage  of  Home  Rule  Bill  not  far 
advanced  when  he  came  to  the  front. 
Had,  he  remarked,  heard  it  said  that 
the  Opposition  regarded  Ireland  as 
incurably  disloyal.  "  I,"  he  protested, 
shaking  his  fist  at  Nationalists  below  the 
Gangway,  "  have  no  feeling  of  that  sort. 
But,"  he  added, "  so  long  as  Nationalist 
Members  preach  disloyalty,  so  long  as 
they  practise  a  form  of  tyranny  in  the 
shape  of  boycotting,  so  long  as  they  go 


32 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANL'ARY    8,    1913. 


about  preaching  rebellion,  there  must 
be  disloyalty  in  Ireland." 

Not  to  be  supposed  that  utterance 
of  these  soothing  remarks  ran  as 
smoothly  as  they  are  here  printed. 
They  were  punctuated  by  interruptions 
from  Irish  camp.  DEVLIN'S  scornful 
"  Oh !  oh  I  "  rising  above  the  din,  POLE 
turned  upon  him  with  withering  glance 
and  remarked,  "The  honourable  Mem- 
ber for  Belfast  is  the  worst  of  the  lot." 
Eeference  to  boycotting  bringing  from 
same  quarter  enquiry,  "  What  aboul 
the  doctors?"  POLK, drawing  himself  up 
with  mingled  air  of  sorrow  and  dignity, 
observed,  "A  very  irrelevant  observa- 
tion." 

Irrelevancy  was  the  one  thing  he 
couldn't  a-bear.  Catching  sight  ol 
SEELY  laughing  on  Treasury  Bench  he 
turned  aside  to  inquire  whether  SECRE- 
TARY FOR  WAR  had  taken  into  his  con- 
fidence his  military  advisers  on  the 
Committee  of  Imperial  Defence  on 
subject  of  military  position  of  this 
country  in  event  of  establishment  of 
Home  Eule  Parliament  in  Dublin? 
An  interpolated  remark  from  SEELY 
found  POLE  quite  prepared  to  discuss  in 
detail  circumstances  attendant  upon 
Union  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

The  GENERAL  not  only  delightfully 
irrelevant  himself  but  cause  of  bewild- 
ering irrelevancy  in  others.  He  brought 
to  his  feet  that  kindred  spirit,  WILLIE 
EEDMOND,  who  stirred  the  SPEAKER  to 
anguished  protest. 

"  I  have,"  the  right  hon.  gentleman 
said,  "  not  the  faintest  idea  of  what 
the  honourable  gentleman  is  alluding 
to,  or  what  the  resolution  is,  or  what 
was  the  body  that  passed  it." 

This  brought  up  GILBERT  PARKER, 
bent  on  making  an  awful  example  of 
himself  as  a  warning  to  others.  WILLIE 
EEDMOND  had  accused  POLE  CAREW  of 
having  used  "  disgracful  and  defamatory 
language."  GILBERT  PARKER  wanted 
to  know  whether  such  remark  was  in 
order. 

"  I  myself,"  he  humbly  added,  "  was 
reproved  by  a  former  SPEAKER  for  using 
the  word  '  disgraceful.1  " 

SPEAKER  again  interposed  in  sterner 
mood.  "The  House,"  he  said,  "lias 
very  little  time.  It  is  called  upon 
to  discuss  an  important  clause,  and  the 
whole  of  the  time  is  being  wasted  in 
ridiculous  talk." 

Eidieulous  talk,  forsooth  !  WILLIE 
REDMOND  swelled  visibly  like  an  of- 
fended turkey-cock,  though  he  had  not 
been  mentioned.  The  SPEAKER'S  ac- 
cusatory remark  had  been  couched  in 
general  terms.  But  WILLIE  not  to  be 
comforted. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  amid  cheers  from  Mr. 
FLAVIN,  "  1  have  the  very  greatest  re- 
spect for  you,  but  as  to  "the  character 


of  the  remarks  I  feel  called  upon  t< 
deliver  I  will  take  leave  to  b'e  the  judg 
myself." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  SITAKKH,  "  lo 
us  assume  that  you  have  disposed  o 
the  honourable  and  gallant  gentlemai 
(POLE  CAREW)  and  come  to  the  clause 
under  discussion." 

Thus  gently  but  firmly  led  back,  atten- 
tion was  again  turned  upon  the  impor- 
tant measure  with  respect  to  which 
well-grounded  complaint  is  made-  in 
some  quarters  that  sufficient  time  is  nol 
supplied  for  discussion  of  its  clauses. 

Jiiisincssdonc. — Proposed  new  clauses 
to  Home  Rule  Bill  dealt  with. 

Neit'  Year's  Day. — Home  Rule  Bil! 
on  again;  minds  of  Members  more 


'  Ridiculous  talk,  forsooth  ! 


(Mr.  WILLIE  REDMOND.) 

engrossed  by  rumours  of  alleged  happen- 
ngs  at  supper  given  last  night  by  wily 
Whip  to  Scotch  Members.  When 
PREMIER  proposed  that  House  should 
re-assemble  on  Monday,  the  next  day's 
sitting  bridging  the  space  between  the 
Old  Year  and  the  New,  a  cry  of  horror 
and  despair  went  up  from  Scottish 
quarter.  True  patriots  they,  how  could 
they  see  the  New  Year  in  amid  the  mirk 
of  London  town  ?  Happy  thought  illu- 
mined ILLINGWOUTH'S  mind.  Why  not 
isk  them  to  supper  and  welcome  the 
mdding  year  at  the  bountiful  table  of  the 
Elotel  Cecil  ?  So  it  was  arranged,  and 
the  Scots  Members  turned  up  to  a  man 
as  did  their  forbears  at  Bannockbura. 

Proceedings  of  course  private.  But 
t  is  no  secret  that  greatest  success 
of  the  evening  was  the  sword  dance 
performed  on  the  stroke  of  midnight  by 
the  Brothers  WTASON,  clad  in  the 
national  garb.  Gog  and  Magog  were 
never  hol'oro  seen  in  such  apparel.  It 
was  voted  most  becoming. 


Jtusiness  done. — Guillotine  working 
its  way  through  Amendments  on  lie- 
port  stage  of  Home  Rule  Bill.  GKMOK.U 
CARSON,  K.C.'s  amendment,  excluding 
Ulster  from  its  operation,  defeated  by 
294  votes  against  197. 


THIS   BUSY   WOULD. 

(With  acknowledgments  to  Mr.  Punch's 
contemporaries^ 

MR.  JOHN  JONES  has  been  appointed 
Town  Clerk  of  Twllony. 

Struck  suddenly  by  an  idea  as  ho 
was  crossing  the  market-place  yester- 
day, Alderman  Smith-Pidson,  of  Bury 
St.  Edwins,  fell  in  a  trance,  from  which 
he  has  not  yet  recovered. 

Flying  from  tree  to  tree  and  uttering 
its  cry  as  in  spring,  a  cuckoo  has  been 
seen  by  an  auctioneer  and  surveyor  of 
Savernake. 

At  the  age  of  ninety-two  a  labourer 
named  Melchisedek  Bo,  who  has  lived 
iri  the  same  cottage  for  ninety-one 
years  near  Peterborough,  has  just 
died  of  troubles  connected  with  third- 
seething. 

Wagering  with  another  man  that  he 
would  drink  a  gallon  of  petrol  in  five 
ninutes,  a  chauffeur  named  William 
Heape  is  now  lying  in  a  precarious 
condition  in  the  Middlesbrough  dis- 
jensary. 

Splashed  by  mud  from  a  passing 
iiotor-car,  in  which  was  a  party  that 
ncluded  Miss  Dyzie  Sweetling,  of  the 
Saiety  Theatre,  and  her  fiance.  Lord 
Orde,  an  elderly  woman  named  Eliza 
Cressbrook  fell  and  fractured  her  knee- 
cap at  Oswestry. 

Accused  of  talking  in  his  sleep  at 
3ermondsey,  an  aged  man  named 
Samuel  Wigstcr  struck  his  wife,  a 
voman  of  sixty,  so  severely  on  the 
lead  that  she  is  not  expected  to  live 
nore  than  twenty  years. 

A  Long  Wait. 

"  Even  the  more  youthful  and  boisterous  of 
be  assembly  waited  in  expectant  silence  while 
ct  another  twelvemonth  passed." 

Nottingham  Guardian. 

ALARM  OF  FIRE  ON  TUBE  RAILWAY. 

PASSENGERS  AUGHT  IN  A  DARK  TCNNEI.." 
Daily  Keir.t. 

Alarmed.  Passenger.  "Help!    Auntie's 
light  again  !  " 


From  a  Transvaal  Notice  Board  :— 

"Motor    cyclists    and    others    arc   warned 

gainst  riding  at  an  excessive  speed  through 

lie  village,  which  is  at  present  a  source  of 

real  danger  to  the  community." 

n  England,  too,  it  is  widely  felt  among 
.lotorists  that  villages  are  a  source  of 
reat  danger  to  the  community  and 
light  to  In;  wiped  out.  Wrc  look  to  the 
ioad  Board  to  do  its  duty. 


JANL-ARY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OU   THK. LONDON    CIIAIM  VA1M. 


33 


Mother  (fcc'.n-j  licr  irat/  to  curtailing  lioliday  expenses).  "  AUGUSTUS,  I  THINK,  INSTEAD  OP  GOING  TO  DUCKY  LANE,  WE  OUGHT  TO 

TAKE  THE  CHILDREN  TO  tKB   ST.   PAUL'S.      THEY  MAY  NOT  HATE  ANOTHER  CHANCE.      I   SEE   IT  's  CRACKING   ALREADY." 


LAST— AND  LOST. 


Sun  rises  8.7  a.m. 
Sun  rises  8.8  a.m.  ' 
Sun  rises  8.8  a.m. 
Sun  rises  8.8  a.m. 
Sun  rUes  8.8  a.m. 
Sun  rises  8.8  a.m. 
Sim  rises  8.8  a.m. 
Sun  rises  8.7  a.m." 


["  December  '27th 
December  '28th 
December  29th 
December  30th 
December  31st 
January  1st 
January  2nd 
January  3rd 

Extract  from  Almanack.] 
DAY  !    (It  is  BROWNING'S  phrase,  not 

mine) — 
Day  .'    An  the  Night  grows  faint  and 

diet, 
Like  sudden  meteors  there  shine 

Aurora's  splendid-  eyes. 
0  Goddess,  lucent-limbed,  divine, 

Unkmuni  to  me  (<m  yet)  by  sight, 
Sparkling  in  gold,  like  ginger-ale 
(No  tltci/  /uirc  said  who  know),  all  hail! 
Hail, (I, urn  .'  Hail, day!  Hail,  light ! 

So  to  himself  Adolphus  sang— 

Adolphus,  reader,  being  I — 
While  all  the  dim-lit  bedroom  rang 

To  that  melodious  cry  ; 
For  the  alarum's  strident  clang 

Had  shocked  me  from  my  sleep  thus 

soon, 

Who  am  not  wont  to  break  my  rest, 
Nor  to  inflate  my  tuneful  chest 

Till  pivtt\   nearly  noon. 


I  'd  set  it  with  my  own  right  hand, 

That  harsh  alarum,  five  hours  back, 
Having  just  previously  scanned 

Whi taker's  Almanack; 
"  So,"  I  had  said,  "  I  understand 

This  is  the  last  day  when  the  sun 
Gets  up  comparatively  late 
(Though  all  too  early),  viz.,  8.8. 

Now  should  the  thing  be  done !  " 

Yes,  this  was  January  2. 

I  filled  my  lungs,  I  sang  again  : — 
The  Dawn,  by  poets  hymned,  of  hue 

Brighter  than  Golden  Bain 
That  on  November  5  floods  through 

Ttie  velvet  night  with  brilliant  sheen  ! 
Then  lie  not  there  and  grossly  yawn, 
But  rouse  thyself  and  see  this  dawn 

Which  than  hast  never  seen  I 

Arise,  arise,  Adolphus  !     Shame 

That  than,  sworn  rotary  of  the  Muse, 
Hast  never  watched  that  ardent  flame 

The  radiant  East  suffuse  ! 
Fata  will  not  bring  to  thee  the  same. 

Rich  chance  till  many  months  have 

sped. 
Have  courage !     Cease    tliosc    coward 

sighs  ! 
Brave  the  chill  morning  !    Up  !    Arise  ! 

(Adolphus  stopped  in  bed). 


A  Way  they  have  in  Australia. 

"  MELBOURNE,  Friday. — Mr.  Higgs  (Queens- 
land) was  upended  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives this  afternoon." 

Brisbaiic  Daily  Mail. 

We  at  home  have  more  respect  for  the 
dignity  of  Parliament. 


The  Luck  of  No.  13. 

"  A  London  newspaper  of  1776  asserted  that 
.  .  .  '  Washington  had  13  toes  and  13  teeth  in 
each  jaw.'  "  . 

A  stiff  mouthful.  GEORGE,  like  so  many 
lovers  of  immaculate  teeth,  must  have 
put  his  foot  in  it. 


From  a  leading  article  in  The  West- 
minster Gazette : — 

"  New  Year's  Day  is  a  Milestone  which  the 
least  observant  of  us  can  hardly  fail  to  pass 
unnoticed." 

The  writer,  though,  has  failed  easily. 
Indeed,  it  hardly  looks  as  though  he 
had  tried  to  pass  it  unnoticed. 

"  Born  on  November  27  last,  the  little  boy 
will,  should  things  remain  as  at  present,  one 
day  become  Marquess  of  Lansdowne." 

AfancJtester  Evening  News. 

I  Not,    however,   if    the    present    Lord 
i  LANSDOWNK  remains  as  at  present. 


34 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


ft 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

" HULLO,  EAO-TIMI.:  " 
I  surrosK  that  if  you  call  a  tiling  a 
"  Revue,"  it  is  meant  to  be  a  satire  on 
persons  in  the  public  eye  and  on  cunvnt 
vogues  and  events,  and  I  therefore 
assume  that  all  the  chorus-part  of 
Messrs.  PEMBEUTON  and  DE  COUHVILLE'S 
production  at  tho  Hippodrome  was 
designed  to  satirise  the  choruses  of 
Musical  Comedy.  If,  as  I  hope,  I  am 
right,  the  imitation  here  given  of  the  old 
meaningless  banalities  was  almost  too 
perfect,  for  its  intention  clearly  escaped 
the  intelligence  of  the  audience,  who 
received  it  with  loud  and  unsuspicious 
approval,  as  if  it  were  tho  real  thing. 
I  am  not  sure  that  even  the  chorus 
itself  recognised  what  it  was  there  for. 
But  Miss  ETHEL  LEVEY  knew  all  about 
it,  and  her  Musical  Comedy  methods  in 
the  duet  with  the  foreign  huzzar  were 
very  delightful  for  those  who  appre- 
ciated her  humour.  On  the  other 
hand,  Mr.  JAMIESON  DODDS,  who  played 
the  part  of  the  gallant  officer,  seemed 
to  take  it  quite  seriously. 

But  for  the  interludes  between  the 
choruses,  the  "  Eevue  "  would  have  been 
a  tedious  business,  for  the  ugliness 
of  rag-time  dances  soon  gets  on  the 
nerves.  The  clou  of  the  evening  was  an 
"  Extra  Turn,"  entitled  "  The  Dramatists 
get  what  they  want."  It  was  almost 


THE  SPIRIT  OP  BAG-TIME. 
Miss  ETHEL  LEVEY. 

unbelievable  that  this  was  from   the 
same   pens   that  wrote   the  rag-time 
part,  yet  the  programme  mentioned  n< 
other  authorship.      The  protestation; 
of  the  artistes  from  the  Music-halls — 
a  decent   dog-trainer  and  his  wife,  i 
perfectly  respectable  acrobat,  witii  si> 
children  in  common — against  the  quos 


ionable  character  of  tho  words  ^ 
were  given  to  say  in  a  sort  of  Stage 
Society  drama,  were  exquisite  fooling; 
ind  here  again  Miss  KTHKL  LEVEY  was 
he  soul  of  the  I'un,  though  Mr.  HEGCIK, 
n  a  smaller  and  less  exacting  part,  was 
ust  as  good.  It  was  a  delightful  little 
jurlesque,  and  deserved  a  much  more 
esponsive  audience. 

Another  excellent  interlude  was  the 
Sentimental  Drama  of  the  mother  and 
icr  lost  child  (allusive  to  The  Tide  ? ), 
vith  interpolations  from  the  body  of 
lie  house.  Here  Miss  DOROTHY  MINTO 
was  in  happy  vein,  and  the  attempts 
nade  by  the  child  (first  a  real  child, 
ind  then,  after  objection  raised  by  tho 
j.C.C.  because  of  the  lateness  of  the 
lour,  a  grown-up  member  of  the  staff, 
quite  as  old  as  the  mother)  to  secure 
>aternal  recognition  from  just  anybody 
hat  came  along  were  most  acceptable. 

There  was  nothing  topical  in  the 
American  dialogue  between  those  ad- 
mirable artistes,  Mr.  LEW  HEAEN  and 
,he  lady  who  calls  herself  "BoNiTA," 
iut  it  was  extremely  amusing.  Indeed 
,he  large  American  element  did  most 
of  the  funny  work  of  the  evening,  and 
iven  the  actress  who  played  Britannia 
n  a  Union  Jack  had  apparently  been 
mported  from  over  the  Atlantic,  to 
sing  the  merits  of  the  "  red,  white  and 
Dlyew."  I  don 't  know  where  the  chorus 
came  from,  but  they  were  well  above 
the  average  in  good  looks. 

A  few  public  characters  were  intro- 
duced, but  in  many  cases  we  were  left 
to  gather  their  identity  from  the  pro- 
gramme or  the  dialogue.  Worse  like- 
nesses than  those  of  Messrs.  CHUBCHILL, 
P.  E.  SMITH,  GRANVJLLE  BARKER  and 
the  PRESIDENT  of  the  Divorce  Court  it 
would  be  very  difficult  to  produce.  The 
representative  of  Mr.  MARTIN  HARVEY 
was  more  like  the  original,  but  The  Only 
Way  is  too  established  an  institution 
to  ridicule  at  this  time  of  day  even  if 
the  impersonator  had  got  Mr.  HARVEY'S 
voice  right.  But  a  really  excellent 
imitation  of  Mr.  GEORGE  GRAVES  was 
given  by  Mr.  CYRIL  CLENSY  in  the 
midst  of  playing  the  character  of  Sir 
Wilkie  Bard  ;  and  Mr.  GERALD  KIBBY 
successfully  assumed  the  manner  of  Mr 
GEORGE  GHOSSMITH,  though  he  coulc 
hardly  hope  to  reproduce  his  legs. 

For  a  satire  on  the  passing  hour  this 
"  Eevue  "  was  not  quite  catholic  enough 
in  its  allusions.  Its  authors  over-esti- 
mated the  part  played  in  our  lives  by  the 
stage.  There  really  are  other  things 
Still,  after  all,  there  are  few  interests 
that  more  closely  touch  so  many  types 
For  the  camps  of  the  Higher  Drama,  tht 
Legitimate,  and  Musical  Comedy  have 
little  traffic  with  one  another,  and  tin 
way  of  the  true  devotee  of  the  Hall 
lies  apart  from  them  all. 


The  audience  at  the  Hippodrome  was 
nado  of  all  these  types—  a  sprinkling 
if  the  first  two  and  strong  contingents 
if  the  others ;  and  it  is  matter  for 


The  One.  "Hullo,  ASQUITH  I  " 

The  Other.  "  Shut  up,  AUSTBS.  Can't  you 
see  I  'm  WINSTON  ?  " 

The  One.  "Well,  I'm  not  AUSTEN  either. 
[  'm  F.  E.  SMITH  in  the  programme." 

compliment  that  the  authors  of  this 
miscellany  and  their  versatile  cast 
should  have  given  so  much  pleasure 
;o  so  mixed  a  crowd.  O.  S. 

From  the  programme  of  a  concert 
at  Kew : — 

"  '  Polonaiseina '  .  .  Chopin. 

'  Toreador '  .  .  .    Carman. ' ' 
Give  us  Faust's  "  Nocturneinaflat  "  all 
the  time. 

From  a  notice-board  at  Leicester  : — 

" HOTEL. 

ESTABLISHED  IN  THE   13th  CENTURY, 

RE-OPENED 
UNDER  ENTIRELY  NEW  MANAGEMENT." 

No  doubt  the  change  of  management 
was  necessary,  but  the  old  place  will 
never  seem  the  same  again. 


"The  eighth  aimual  meeting  of  the  Peace 
Conference  was  held  at  St.  James'  Palace  this 
(Wednesday)  afternoon." 

Staffordshire  Sentinel. 
The  dilatoriness  of  Turkey  is  becoming 
a  scandal. 

"Le  travail  do  M.  Knochblauch  (Kixmel 
est  un  bon  divertissement  pour  dcs  peuples, 
moins  avaiicds  en  civilisation  que  nous  no  h 
sornmes." — IS  Opinion. 
We  hope  that  the  thousands  of  Britons 
who  saw  the  play  at  the  Garrick,  anc 
enjoyed  it,  will  not  take  the  above  too 
much  to  heart. 


JANUARY  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


35 


Belated  Sportsman  (arriving  just  as  hounds  are  moving  off  after  breaking  up  their  fox).  "I'VE  SEEN  sous  HUNTED  FOX;  HE'S 

BEHIND,   JUST  OVER  THE  ROAD."  Hunisttiatl.    "  TlIB    "UNTED   POX   18   INSIDE   IK    'OUNDS,    SlE." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IN  John  of  Jingalo  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  Mr.  LAURENCE 
HOUSMAN  lets  out  a  number  of  bees  that  have  been  swarm- 
ing in  his  bonnet  (or  ought  I  rather  to  say  his  toque?), 
some  of  which  havo  very  acute  little  darts  concealed  about 
them  ;  others,  I  think,  are  content,  like  the  telephone, 
with  a  mere  intermittent  buzzing.  Jingalo  is  a  country 
whose  capital  may  be  described  in  the  good  old  phrase  as 
situated  not  a  hundred  miles  from  Whitehall,  and  it  is  only 
by  an  ingenious  system  of  transpositions,  and  by  the 
device  of  alluding  quite  frequently  to  England  as  a  co- 
existent European  state,  that  the  author  prevents  us  from 
saying  at  every  turn,  "  How  on  earth  could  anyone  dare  to 
publish  a  book  like  this  ?  "  Mr.  HOUSMAN'S  main  thesis 
IP  that  Jingalo  is  governed  by  a  class  of  office-seekers 
(represented  at  any  given  moment  by  the  Cabinet),  who  are 
wholly  unsupported  by  the  voice  of  the  people,  and  use 
alike  the  democratic  will  and  the  institution  of  monarchy 
to  serve  their  bureaucratic  ends.  Having  tumbled  down  the 
palace  staircase  upon  his  head,  King  John  begins  to  "  see 
tilings,"  and  the  scope  of  his  vision  is  further  enlarged  by 
conversations  with  his  son  Max,  a  Max  with  whose  cynical 
detachment  we  somehow  seem  familiar.  It  will  not  come 
as  a  shock  to  anyone  to  learn  that  the  Dramatic  Censorship 
and  Women's  Suffrage  are  cases  in  which  King  John  sees 
fit  to  set  his  counsellors  at  defiance;  but  these  are  only  two 
and  not,  I  think,  the  sharpest  of  the  points  which  Mr. 
HOUSMAN  has  made.  I  admire  most  the  monarch's  decision 
to  revive  the  ceremony  of  washing  beggars'  feet;  on  Maun- 


day  Thursday,  attended  by  the  whole  Order  of  Knights  of 
the  Thorn  in  full  robes ;  and  the  epilogue :  "  And  when 
their  ordeal  by  water  was  over  then  the  twelve  beggars — all 
of  guaranteed  good  character  though  not  actual  communi- 
cants— reseived  with  delight  each  a  new  pair  of  shoes  and 
stockings,  which  they  were  able  to  sell  immediately 
at  fabulous  prices  to  collectors  of  curiosities,  chiefly 
Americans.  And  that  same  night  twelve  very  happy 
beggars,  all  more  or  less  drunk,  made  their  appearance  on 
the  largest  music-hall  stage  in  the  metropolis,  where  the 
whole  scene  was  elaborately  re-enacted  in  Joe-simile, 
followed  by  a  cinematograph  record  of  the  actual  event." 
That  bee  stings. 

1  have  been  reading  an  extraordinary,  not  to  say  night- 
marish, book  about  the  Mysterious  East.  It  is  called  The 
White  Knight  (MUBRAY)  and  begins  on  board  a  P.  &  O. 
liner,  passengers  on  which  were  Denis  Grey  and  Howell. 
The  former,  I  gathered,  had  come  out  to  Egypt  as  the  guest 
of  his  Oxford  friend,  Howell,  who  was  not  only  "  one  of  the 
quietest  men  in  Balliol,"  but  on  his  mother's  side  a  Bedouin 
Arab.  Naturally  this  unusual  combination  was  not  without 
startling  results,  because,  as  it  happened,  there  was  a  high- 
pressure  blood  feud  going  on  at  the  time  between  Howell's 
tribe  and  another ;  and  hardly  had  the  two  travellers  dis- 
embarked at  Port  Said  when  events  began  simply  to  hum. 
I  have  a  fixed  idea  that  had  I  been  Grey  I  should  have 
called  the  visit  a  failure.  To  begin  with,  having  expressed 
a  wish  (the  least  he  could  do)  to  join  his  host's  brotherhood, 
he  found  himself  bound  hand  and  foot  and  involved  in  the 
cios'o  terrifying  eaiertaiumeut  of  -gcnga  and  green  lights 


So 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JANUAUY  8,  1913. 


Later,  he  had  to  fight  for  his  life  in  a  I  shall  select  that  often  misapplied  word  "subtle       There 
and  was  only  rescued  bv  the  heroine  is  none  that  comes  nearer  to  Mr.  IORBEST  REID'S  peculiar 
defeat.      Well,  really/  1  mean-    -  method  of  telling  half  a  tale,  and  suggesting  the  rest,  which 
•  you  may  then  find  out  for  yourself  if  you  have  interest  and 

imagination   enough.      Only   the   other   day   I   saw   that 


Amongst  «'>thi-r  questions  that  occur  to  the  sceptical  reader 
<    "  Where  was  Lord  KITCHENER?"     Briefly,  Mr.  T.  G. 


WAKELING  has  written  a  sometimes  exciting,  but  more  often 
rather  nonsensical,  story  about  a  country  that  he  evidently 
knows  and  loves.  The  interest  would  have  been  stronger 
if  the  author  had  been  less  eager  to  combine  it  with  in- 
struction. The  characters  have  a  disconcerting  habit  of 
holding  long  natural-history  dialogues  in  question  and 
answer,  such  as  I  take  to  be  unusual  for  men  in  moments 
of  emotional  stress.  But  the  big  fight  in  the  last  chapters 
is  tremendous  fun,  and  justifies  the  making  of  the  book — 
for  those  who  like  that  sort  of  thing. 

In  The  Letter-Bag  of  Lady  Elizabeth  Spencer-Stanhope 
(JOHN  LANE)  Mr.  'STIRLING  provides  some  fascinating 
reading.  The  collection  is  designed  to  form  a  continuation 
and  conclusion  of  two 
earlier  works,  Coke  of 
Norfolk  and  his  Friends 
and  Annals  of  a  York- 
shire House.  The  con- 
tents of  the  Letter-Bag 
mainly  consist  of  corre- 
spondence addressed  to 
or  written  by  JOHN 
SPENCER-  STANHOPE, 
who  lived  and  saw  wide 
variety  of  life  between 
the  years  1787  and  1873. 
It  is  impossible  in  the 
limited  accommodation 
of  this  "Booking-Office" 
adequately  to  deal  with 
the  teeming  pages  of 
volumes  which  picture 
the  social  existence  of 
two  generations  and 
record  gossip  and  con- 
fidences exchanged  over 
half  a  century.  If  the 
book  did  nothing  more  RH^KD*!]:!. 
than  rescue  the  memory 


Mr.  REID  was  writing  on  "  The  Boy  in  Fiction,"  and 
certainly  the  list  of  his  own  books  would  seem  to  give  him 
some  claim  to  speak  with  authority.  All  his  stories  are 
in  fact  studies,  extraordinarily  clever  and  detailed  and 
painstaking,  of  certain  types  of  adolescence.  In  Following 
Darkness,  the  boy,  Peter  Waring,  who  is  its  central 
character  and  tells  his  own  tale  in  the  first  person,  is 
drawn  with  an  ingenuity  that  is  quite  merciless.  The 
result  is  a  picture  attractive,  almost  in  spite  of  itself,  from 

this  quality  of  sincerity.     Ij1~  :t *  l ' -1  tu"*  — 

no   other   ground    could 


For  it  must  be  confessed  that  on 
Peter's    be    called    an   engaging 


personality.  Moreover,  let  those  who  demand  from  a  novel 
that  it  shall  have  a  symmetrically  rounded  plot,  or  for 
whom  boyhood,  with  its  elusive  moods  and  contradictions, 


THE 


FORGOTTEN  DEEDS  OF  VALOUR. 
OF  THE  KING'S  CONSCIENCE  HANDS  IK  HIS   RESIGNATION  TO 


its  romance  and  happi- 
ness and  despair,  has 
no  sufficient  charm, 
avoid  this  book.  The 
others  will  accept  it 
with  appreciation  and 
gratitude  for  work  of 
a  kind  both  beautiful 
and  rare.  Despite  some 
obvious  faults  of  con- 
struction (of  which  the 
Preface  seems  to  me 
to  be  one),  Following 
Darkness  deserves  to 
linger  pleasantly  in  the 
memory  when  two- 
thirds  of  the  fiction  of 
to-day  has  been  wil- 
lingly forgotten. 


of  Ix>rd  COLLINGWOOD  from  undeserved  oblivion  its  publica- 
tion would  be  welcome.  His  share  in  the  great  victory 
of  Trafalgar  was  outshone  by  the  dazzling  glory  of  his 
commander  and  friend,  NELSON.  Full  justice  is  at  length 
done  him,  partly  by  publication  of  his  own  modest  account 
of  the  great  fight,  though  the  part  lie  played  in  it  is  only 
incidentally  referred  to.  His  description  of  tli3  battle  is 
a  masterpiece.  A  passage  in  one  of  his  letters  of  later 
date,  protesting  against  a  tendency  on  the  part  of  the 
Admiralty  to  neglect  the  duty  of  maintaining  the  efficiency 
of  the  Navy,  will  by  its  exact  terminology  commend 
itself  to  the  present  FIRST  LORD.  "  I  have  always  found," 
COLLINGWOOD  wrote,  "  that  kind  language  and  strong  ships 
have  a  very  powerful  effect  in  conciliating  the  people." 
Another  apophthegm,  a  favourite  remark  with  JOHN  STAN- 
HOPE, may  recommend  itself  to  one  of  Mr.  CHURCHILL'S 
Cabinet  colleagues  :  "  The  great  advantage  of  being  of  old 
family  is  that  you  are  further  removed  from  the  rascal  who 
founded  it."  Both  NAPOLEON  and  WELLINGTON  figure  in 
the  correspondence,  in  which  appear  vivid  glimpses  of  Paris 
after  Waterloo. 


Casting  about  me  for  an  epithet  by  which  I  may  most 
suitably  describe  Following   Darkness  (ARNOLD),  I    think 


has   somehow   or   other   got   left 


There  is  one  article 
that  might  very  well 
have  been  included  in 
The  English  Character 
(FouLis)  by  SPENCER 
LEIGH  HUGHES,  but 
out — an  article  on  the 


varying  value  of  externals.  Any  unprejudiced  reader  who 
took  up  this  book  and  considered  the  very  tasteful  crimson  - 
linen  binding,  the  hand-made  paper,  the  coloured  illustra- 
tions, the  wide  margins,  the  clear  lettering  and  the  style 
of  the  printing — every  chapter  begins  with  a  whole  line 
in  capitals  and  ends  with  two  shortening  lines  like  the  tale 
of  Fury  and  the  Mouse  in  Alice  in  Wonderland — might  be 
pardoned  for  saying  eagerly,  "  Here  is  CHARLES  LAMB  at 
least."  But  with  all  due  respect  to  Mr.  HUGHES  (who  was 
so  well-known  as  the  Sub  liosd  of  The  Morning  Leader  and 
has  now  transferred  his  bower  to  The  Daily  News)  I  think 
he  would  be  a  little  disappointed.  Mr.  HUGHES  has  one  or 
two  good  stories  to  tell,  and  his  observation  is  sometimes 
shrewd  enough.  But,  oh  dear!  there  are  some  sad 
platitudes  in  these  pages  and  (can  it  possibly  be  because 
they  first  appeared  in  the  form  of  diurnal  columns?)  they 
are  woefully  periphrastic  at  times. 
HUGHES  has  doubtless  plenty  of 
not  be  annoyed  if  I  reserve  the  larger  share  of  my  gratitude 


But  never  mind.      Mr. 
admirers,  and   he   will 


for  Mr.  FOULIS. 


Winter    Sport. 

"!HK  SOUTH  Oi.roicDsHiRK  FOGHOUNDS."— Smith  Biwks  Free  Press 


JANUAKT  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oii  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


37 


CHARIVARIA. 

SIB  GEOBOB  SYDENHAM  CLARKE  has 
decided  to  take  the  title  of  Lord 
Sydenham.  An  attempt  will  no  doubt 
be  made  to  soil  him  the  Crystal  Palace 
as  a  residence  worthy  of  his  new 
dignity.  ^ 

It  is  thought  that  the  clocLsion  of  the 
Eoyal  Geographical  Society  in  regard 
to  the  admission  of  women  as  members 
may  have  the  result  of  turning  the  atten- 
tion of  an  increased  number  of  women 
to  the  study  of  geography.  Wo  fancy, 
however,  that  they  will  still 
ask  the  way  of  good-looking 
policemen.  ,„  „ 


It  has  been  discovered  that 
big  game  in  Central  Africa 
nourish  the  organisms  that  are 
the  cause  of  sleeping  sickness. 
A  'number  of  notices  bearing 
tho  words  "Kill  that  Lion  I" 
are  to  be  sent  out  at  once,  and 
a  charitable  lady  has,  we  hear, 
offered  to  provide  20.000  fly 

papers  of  an  extra-large  sizo. 

*  * 

Nearly  forty  cheeses,  weigh- 
ing together  more  than  a  ton, 
and  valued  at  over  £2  each, 
were  stolen  last  week  from  a 
wholesale  storehouse  in  Oakley 
Street,  Lambeth.  There  were 
signs  that  some  of  them  had 
not  surrendered  until  after  a 
plucky  struggle. 

*  * 

The  lengths  to  which  some 
persons  will  go  in  sacrificing 
themselves  for  the  amusement 
of  others  is  amazing.  One  of  the 
guests  at  a  party  at  Kettering, 
in  endeavouring,  last  week,  to 
blow  out  a  candle  blindfolded, 
burned  off  half  his  moustache. 


appearance  this  edition  surpasses  every 
edition  that  we  remember  at  this  price." 
As  tho  price  is  tho  unusual  one  of  six 
shillings  net,  this  notico  is  not  quite 

so  handsome  as  it  sounds. 
*  * 

:  : 

A  number  of  inmates  of  the  prison 
hotel  at  Parkhurst,  who  took  part  in 
the  recent  disturbances  there,  have 
been  sent  back  to  Portland.  They  are 
said  to  bo  extremely  annoyed  at  this. 
They  had  hoped  that  they  would  merely 
be  expelled  with  ignominy  and  that 
His  Majesty's  Government  would  re- 
fuse to  have  anything  more  to  do  with 


TO   AN  ELDEKLY  FEWALtt. 

(.4  January  Idyll.) 
IN  the  January  chill 
I  beheld  you  on  tho  hill, 
O  most  angular  old  Jill, 

Tall  and  gaunt; 
Unapproachable  and  prudo, 
With  a  face  of  Don't  Intrude, 
And  a  general  attitude 

Of  Avaunt I 

By  a  mincing  step  and  stiff, 
By  a  short  and  tentative 
And  most  disapproving  sniff 

Now  and  then. 
By  a  prim,  tea-party  air 
And  a  penetrating  stare, 
I  could  tell  you  couldn't  boar 
"  Hateful  men  1" 

Elegant,  if  ancient  wreck. 
How  that  mincing  gait  found 

check, 
How  you  slewed  that  scrawny 

nock 

With  a  twist, 

Startled,  yes,  but  still  refined  I 
Then  you  ambled  np  the  wind, 
Yeld  and  venerable  hind 
That  I  missed  I 


Rttstio  Passenger  (as  express  dashes  by).  "  BT  GUM,  THAT  WEBB 

A  NEAR  SBAVBl  " 


A  Melbourne  baker  claims  to  have 
discovered  a  liquid  compound  which, 
if  applied  to  a  loaf  of  bread  three  or 
four  days  old,  will  restore  all  its 
original  freshness.  By  the  by,  we 
believe  it  is  not  generally  known  that 
a  thin  coating  of  brown  boot  polish 
will  convert  a  slightly  soiled  white  loaf 
into  an  attractive-looking  whole-meal 
loaf.  .„  „, 

# 

"There  is  no  ideal  girl,"  says  Mr. 
SANDOW.  In  view  of  this  definite  pro- 
nouncement it  is  thought  that  many 
gentlemen  will  now  give  up  the  fruitless 
search.  ^  t 

•I* 

Of  the  Sydney  Edition  of  Bacon's 
Essays  a  contemporary  remarks  :— 
"In  its  buckram  covers  and  general 


persons  who  take  an  unfair  advantage 
of  their  hospitality. 

*  * 

Last  week,  apparently,  if  one  had 
kept  one's  eyes  open,  one  would  have 
seen  at  every  street  corner  little  groups 
of  citizens  discussing  an  alarming 
report — for,  says  The  Observer,  "  The 
rumour  that  A.  W.  Gamage,  Ltd.,  sup- 
ply only  the  Gamage  Motor  Tyre  is  not 
correct."  Who,  we  wonder,  is  respon- 
sible for  starting  these  wicked  canards  ? 

"  Young  lambs  arc  very  prolific  in  St.  Erth 
district  already." — Hayle  Mail. 

We  confess  that  we  cannot  approve  of 
this  precocity.  In  any  case  we  think 
that  these  young  mothers  would  have 
been  better  advised  to  wait  for  the 
Government's  maternity  benefit. 


The  Line  of  Least  Resistance. 
Tun  waiter,  in  wishing  me 
good  morning,  remarked  that 
the  day  was  much  colder.  I  had 
as  a  matter  of  fact  thought  it 
particularly  close  and  muggy, 
but  I  agreed  with  him. 

At  the  cloak-room,  where  * 
man,  at  a  daily  remuneration 
of  sixpence,  takes  charge  of  a 
hat  and  coat  that  would  reposo 
on  a  chair  beside  me  for  nothing 
had  I  any  courage,  I  was  told 
that  the  weather  seemed  much 
more  promising ;  and  again  I 
agreed,  although  I  had  no  such 
belief. 

Finally,  the  splendid  creature  who, 
in  return  for  more  money,  blows  the 
whistle  once  for  a  cab  for  me,  said  that 
it  was  a  nice  day  on  the  whole;  and 
once  more  I  agreed. 

But  what  I  want  to  know  is,  what 
does  the  Recording  Angel  do  about 
this  kind  of  thing  ? 


"  Madamo  ButtT>*  majestic  stature  appealed 
to  critics  hardly  less  powerfully  than  her 
voice." — New  York  Correspondent  of  "  Daily 
Telegraph." 

At  this  rate  of  computation  what  would 
LITTLE  TICH  be  worth  ?  A  threepenny 
bit?  

"  Charge  of  Bobbing  a  Solicitor." — Times. 

Difficulty  has  always  been  tho  whet- 
stone of  enterprise. 


VOL.  cxr.iv. 


38 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY    15,    1913. 


THE    GREAT   TWIN    TERRORS. 

"  Ton-  Members  are  trembling  before  tho  remorseless  propaganda, 
the  unerring  arithmetic,  of  Mr.  Chiozza  Money  and  Sir  Alfred 
Mend."— P.  W.  W.  in  "  Tlie  Daily  News  and  Leader." 

'WHENCE  comes  this  pallor  which  bedims 

The  Tory  Party's  sanguine  faces? 
"Who  puts  the  palsy  in  our  limbs, 

As  when  a  cobra's  fierce  grimaces 
Reduce  to  pulp  the  paralytic  bunny  ? 
It  is  tho  leonine  CHIOZZA  MONEY. 

Who  is  the  other  terror?  "Who 

The  basilisk  that  makes  us  shiver 
Turning  our  red  corpuscles  blue, 

Setting  our  marrow-bones  a-quivcr, 
Causing  a  kind  of  hiccup  in  the  heart  ? 
It  is  Sir  ALFRED  MONO,  the  gifted  Bart. 

And  if  you  care  to  call  in  doubt 

The  wiles  of  these  astounding  wizards ; 

If  you  would  know  some  more  about 
Their  power  to  petrify  our  gizzards  ; 

With  my  inspired  authority  I  '11  trouble  you— 

It  is  tho  trusty  scribe,  P.  double  W. 

'Twas  he  from  whom  I  heard  the  trick 
That  makes  them  such  a  pair  of  wonders  : 

He  says  it 's  their  arithmetic 

Which  absolutely  never  blunders ; 

Ask  them,  if  proof  you  want,  to  say  at  sight 

How  many  beans  make  five — they  're  always  right. 

'Tis  this  that  puts  us  in  the  soup, 

A  wriggling  mass  of  vermicelli ; 
By  this  they  catch  us  when  we  stoop 

So  that  we  tremble  like  a  jelly, 
Because  we  cannot  cope  with  men  of  lore 
Who  see  at  once  that  two  and  two  are  four. 

They  know  addition,  oh,  and  lots 

Of  darker  matters  ;  they  define  ua 
The  meaning  of  those  "  little  dots," 

And  cryptic  things  like  +  and  -  ; 
They  even  do  their  sums  (or  so  'tis  said) 
Not  on  the  fingers,  but  inside  the  head  1 

Deadly  at  economics,  they 

Can  tell  by  lightning  calculations 
The  blow  that  threatens,  some  fine  day, 

To  knock  the  Tariff-ridden  nations ; 
Nor,  on  the  Free  Food  stump,  can  hecklers  stand  a 
Moment  against  their  ruthless  propaganda. 

In  lurid  lights,  that  leave  us  dumb, 
They  paint  the  ruin,  swift  and  heavy, 

Of  those  who  tax  the  People's  turn, 
Barring,  of  course,  the  Liberal  levy 

(A.  little  thing,  a  mere  ten  million  touch) 

On  currants,  coffee,  cocoa,  tea  and  such. 

But  we,  a  trembling  chicken-brood, 

We  dare  not  say  we  find  it  funny 
That  Liberal  taxes  laid  on  food 

Are  naught  to  MONO  and  nil  to  MONEY  ; 
And,  after  all,  a  mere  ten  million — what 's  a 
Trifle  like  that  to  ALFRED  or  CHIOZZA  ? 


O.  S. 


Extract  from  The  Nervous  System  of  Vertebrates  : — 

"  There  is    no   such    thing   as   a    pars    supraueuroporica  of  tho 
lamina  terminalis." 

Personally  we  never  said  there  was. 


OUR   COURTSHIP  COLUMN. 

EVERYBODY'S  AUNT  EMMA. 

BY  all  means,  Jemima,  make  it  up  with  your  William. 
No  one  is  perfect,  and  we  all  lose  our  tempers  at  times. 
Besides,  you  say  tho  boot  did  not  actually  hit  you,  and  you 
can  easily  get  a  new  chandelier.  Do  you  think  lie  can 
have  been  anticipating  in  a  clumsy  and  indirect  fashion  the 
custom  of  throwing  a  shoe  after  tho  wedding  carnage  ?  In 
any  case  make  him  a  present,  as  you  suggest,  as  a  sign  of 
forgiveness ;  a  pair  of  very  soft  bedroom  slippers  would  bo 
a  thoughtful  gift. 

Lucy  is  engaged  to  a  man  who  is  most  high-minded  and 
honourable,  but  unfortunately  he  is  not  clever  and  he  has  very 
little  hair  on  his  head.  Still,  I  think  she  had  better  stick  to 
trim.  There  are  many  preparations  for  the  hair  (see  our 
advertisement  columns),  and  many  great  men  have  been 
oald,  e.g.,  C^ISAR  and  Fra  L:PPO  Lirri.  As  to  cleverness, 
that  is  not  everything.  The  poet  says,  "  Be  good,  sweet 
maid,"  and  it  is  better  to  meet  nice  people,  even  if  they  are 
rather  bores,  than  to  be  robbed  by  a  witty  dramatist  or 
bludgeoned  by  a  thoughtful  poet. 

I  am  at  a  loss,  my  dear  Mary,  to  know  what  to  say  to 
you.  Yours  is  a  most  distressing  case.  Use  all  your  womanly 
tact  and  perhaps  you  will  reclaim  him.  Next  time  he 
wants  to  enter  a  picture  palace  draw  him  aside,  saying, 

Come,  Walter,  I  see  a  dog-fight  at  the  other  eiid  of  the 
street." 

Philip  thinks  he  has  been  very  clever,  but  he  has  not;  he 
has  dono  a  cruel  unkind  thing.  It  is  not  merely  the 
crockery ;  hearts  are  broken  by  acting  in  that  way. 

You  were  quite  right,  Lily.  A  man  who  could  behave 
like  that  is  unworthy  of  any  affection,  let  alone  a  con- 
suming passion  such  as  you  describe  yours  to  be.  When 
next  he  calls,  summon  him  to  that  latticed  window  of 
which  you  speak  so  feelingly,  and  empty  a  jug  of  cold  water 
over  him.  If  he  remonstrates  you  might  reply  with  some 
little  badinage,  as  for  example,  "  Water,  water  everywhere 
and  not  a  drop  to  drink."  Then  close  the  window  and 
retire  to  rest. 

Your  heart  is  not  touched,  Amelia,  but  I  think  you  are 
a  little  bit  wrong  in  the  head. 

I  can  quite  understand,  Constantia,  that  you  misa  the 
visits  of  your  Henry.  His  eyes  must  have  been  excessively 
blue.  But  his  habit  of  imitating  a  green  parrot  no  doubt 
grew  tiring  and,  as  you  say  his  income  is  so  small,  I  feel 
certain  that  your  heart  cannot  really  have  been  touched. 
If  Percy's  diamonds  are  genuine  (and  a  visit  to  the  nearest 
jeweller  will  settle  this  point)  I  think  I  would  forget  Henry. 
But  you  must  be  very  careful  not  to  display  anything 
like  a  mercenary  spirit,  for  there  is  nothing  that  the  rich 
dislike  so  much. 


I  should  advise  Clara  to  see  a  beauty  specialist, 
is  a  most  distressing  face. 


Hers 


"  Contemplating  the  eyes  of  this  woman,  one  thought  of  elemental 
passions.  If  the  eyes  were  her  great  feature,  tho  mouth  gave  more 
key  to  her  true  self.  The  short  upper  lip  curled  outward  enough  to 
make  visible  a  shadowy  line  above  itself,  when  the  light  came  upwards 
to  her  face.  Tho  skin  over  the  eyeteeth  showed  that  slight  fulness 
indicative  of  animalism." — "  Bystander"  Short  Story. 

The  sort  of  woman  one  escapes  from  by  tho  skin  of  her 
eyeteeth. 

"  The  macaw  of  British  Honduras  says  a  lecturer  resembles  many 
people  in  wearing  fine  clothes,  making  a  great  noiso,  and  in  being 
good  for  nothing  else." — Evening  News. 

A  caustic  bird,  tho  macaw. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  15,  1913. 


PRESIDENT  TAFT  (singing). 


THE    SWAN-SONG. 

'ARBITRATION    I    ADORE, 

SOMETIMES    LESS    AND    SOMETIMES    MORE. 
IP    YOU    LOVE    YOUR    DYING    SWAN, 
KEEP    IT    UP    WHEN    HE    IS    GONE." 


[PBESIDKNT  TAFT,  after  proposing  to  repudiate  the  Hay-Pauncefoto  Treaty,  has  at  last,  within  a  few  weeks  of  the  close  of  his  term 
of  ofiicc,  lifted  up  his  voice  in  favour  of  a  sort  of  arbitration  on  the  Panama  tolls.] 


JANUARY  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


'•WHAT'S  ALL  THIS  ABOUT  AN  INSURANCE  ACT?    HAVE  TO  LICK  STAMPS  OB  SOMETHIN',  WIIAT?" 
"DON'T  KNOW,  OLD  THING.    SEEMS  TO  HAVE  BLOWN  OVER." 


MILLENNIAL    MEETINGS. 

STIMULATED  by  tho  example  of  Mr. 
FREDERIC  HARBISON  in  his  •pronuiwia- 
inii'iito,  "  1913,"  in  The  Einjlisk  Review, 
several  of  our  leading  publicists  bave 
delivered  tbemselves  on  tbe  subject  of 
Anglo-German  relations,  and  tbe  best 
way  of  promoting  tbe  peace  of  Europe. 

Sir  EDWIN  DUHNINO  -  LAWRENCE, 
speaking  at  tbe  annual  meeting  of  tbe 
Bacup  Baconian  Society  last  Friday, 
observed  tbat  tbey  lived  in  stirring 
times.  He  was,  however,  hopeful,  nay 
sanguine,  tbat  peace  would  be  preserved 
if  the  legitimate  aspirations  of  Ger- 
many could  be  reconciled  with  a  due  re- 
gard for  our  own  Imperial  obligations. 
Personally  he  had  no  doubt  whatever 
that  this  could  be  done  easily  on  the 
basis  of  a  simple  deal.  Let  Germany 
take  Sn. \KSPKARE  (giving  us  LUTHER  in 
exchange)  while  we  kept  BACON.  He 
felt  convinced  that  she  would  acquiesce 
in  an  arrangement  so  fraught  with 
pacific  possibilities.  Germany  would 
save  her  face,  and  we  would  save  our 
BACON.  (Great  applause.) 

Tho  Chevalier  WILLIAM  LE  QUEUX, 
who  was  the  principal  guest  at  tho 


quinquennial  banquet  of  tbe  Eocbester 
Revolver  Club,  adumbrated  a  remark- 
able scheme  for  maintaining  the  inter- 
dynastic  relations  of  Europe  on  a 
harmonious  basis.  He  proposed  a 
Conference  of  Crowned  Heads  to  be 
held  in  the  Republic  of  San  Marino, 
before  which  he  was  prepared  to  submit 
his  plan  of  settling  all  international 
disputes  by  reference  to  an  official,  to 
lie  called  the  Cosmic  Conciliator,  who 
should  be  elected  by  tbe  assembled 
Sovereigns  and  bold  office  for  life.  If  tbe 
choice  fell  upon  himself,  as  he  had  good 
ground  for  believing  it  might,  he  would 
not  shirk  the  responsibilities  of  the 
post  or  fail  to  deal  faithfully  with 
recalcitrant  potentates. 

Mr.  THOMAS  BEECHAM,  the  famous 
conductor,  fresh  from  his  triumphs 
in  Germany,  addressed  a  meeting  of 
musicians  at  Finsbury  Park  last  Satur- 
day evening.  He  said  that  the  treat- 
ment of  German  bands  was  the  only 
outstanding  question  between  the  two 
countries.  He  had  begun  to  conduct 
overtures  with  Sir  EDWARD  CARSON  with 
a  view  to  their  establishment  in  Ulster 
under  Home  Rule  in  case  his  efforts  to 
secure  their  repatriation  failed. 


Sir  WILLIAM  BYLES,  M.P.,  who  pre- 
sided at  an  extraordinary  meeting  of 
the  Bradford  Branch  of  the  Mad 
Mullah  Protection  League,  criticised 
Mr.  FREDERIC  HARRISON'S  proposal  to 
surrender  various  portions  of  the 
Empire  as  timid  and  half-hearted.  It 
was  no  good  giving  up  Egypt,  Malta 
and  Gibraltar  unless  we  also  decided 
to  give  back  India  to  the  Indians  and 
Australia  to  the  aborigines.  In  view 
of  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR'S  fondness  for 
yachting,  Sir  WILLIAM  added  that  it 
would  be  a  gracious  as  well  as  politic 
act  to  present  him  with  the  Isle  of 
Wight  as  a  summer  residence. 


The  Suicide  Club. 

"BIG    DYERS'    STRIKE. 

5000  OPERATIVES  GIVE  NOTICE  TO  EXPIRE 

IN  A  WEEK." 

Dwulee  Evening  Telegraph. 


"Many  a  wintry  wind  this  fine  old  tower 
lias  dulled,  the  scorching  sun  has  shone  its 
rays  on  its  four  sides  for  centuries." 

Bury  Post. 

No  need  to  bother  about  a  south  aspect 
here.  The  north  is  as  good  as  any 
of  them. 


4-2 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANI'AKY    15,    1913. 


MORE   SUCCESSFUL    LIVES. 

Vlir.  (•.(»(/  Last).— Tm:  Kxri.oiii:i:. 
A>  the  evening  wore  on -and  one 
young  iiuui  lifter  anot  her  asked  Jocolyu 
.Monttvvor  if  she  wore  going  to  Ascot, 
what?  or  to  Henley,  what ','  or  what  '.'- 
she  wondered  more  and  more  if  this 
were  all  that  life  would  ever  hold  for 
her.  Would  she  never  meet  a  man,  a 
real  man  who  had  done,  something? 
Tlie^e  hoys  around  her  were  very 
plea -ant,  she  admitted  to  herself;  very 
useful,  indeed,  she  added,  as  one  ap- 
proached her  with  some  refreshment; 
hut  they  were  only  boys. 

"  Here  you  are,"  said  Freddy,  handing 
her  an  ice  in  three  colours.  "  I  've  had 
it  made  specially  cold  for  you.  They 
only  had  the  green,  pink  and  yellow 
jerseys  left ;  I  hope  you  don't  mind. 
The  green  part  is  arsenic,  I  believe. 
If  you  don't  want  the  wafer  I  '11  take 
it  home  and  put  it  between  the  sashes 
of  my  bedroom  window.  The  rattling 
kept  me  awake  all  last  night.  That  "s 
why  I  'm  looking  so  ill,  by-the-way." 

.locelyn  smiled  kindly  and  went  on 
with  her  ice. 

'•That  reminds  me,"  Freddy  went  on, 
"  we  've  got  a  nut  here  to-night.  The 
genuine  thing.  None  of  your  society 
Hurcelonas  or  suburban  Filberts.  One 
of  the  real  Cob  family ;  the  driving -f rom- 
the- sixth -tee,  inset -on -the -right  and 
New  -  Year's  -  message  -  to  -  the  -  country 
touch.  In  short,  a  celebrity." 

'•  Who '!  "  asked  Jocelyn  eagerly. 
Perhaps  here  was  a  man. 

"  Worrell  Brice,  the  explorer.  Don't 
say  you  haven't  heard  of  him  or  Aunt 
Alice  will  cry." 

Heard  of  him  ?  Of  course  she  had 
heard  of  him.  Who  hadn't  ? 

Worrall  Brice's  adventures  in  distant 
parts  of  the  empire  would  have  filled  a 
book— had,  in  fact,  already  filled  three. 
A  glance  at  his  flat  in  St.  James's  Street 
gave  you  some  idea  of  the  adventures 
he  had  been  through.  Here  were  the 
polished  spurs  of  his  companion  in  the 
famous  ride  through  Australia  from 
south  to  north — all  that  had  been  left 
by  the  cannibals  of  the  Wogga-Wogga 
River  after  their  banquet.  Here  was 
the  poisoned  arrow  which,  by  the  mer- 
ciful intervention  of  Providence,  just 
niis-x-d  Worrall  and  pierced  the  heart 
of  one  of  his  black  attendants,  the 
post-mortem  happily  revealing  the  pre- 
sence of  a  new  and  interesting  poison. 
Here,  again,  was  the  rope  with  which 
he  was  hanged  by  mistake  as  a  spy  in 
South  America— a  mistake  which  would 
certainly  have  had  fatal  results  if  he 
had  not  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
hold  his  breath  during  the  performance. 
In  yet  another  corner  you  might  see  his 
favourite  mascot — a  tooth  of  the  shark 


which  hit  him  otT  the  coast  of  China. 
Spears,  knives  and  guns  lined  the  walls; 
every  inch  of  the  floor  was  covered  by 
shins.      His  flat  was  typical  of  the  man 
:  man  who  had  done  things. 
••  Introduce  him  to  me,"  commanded 
Jocelyn.     ''Where  is  he'.'" 

She  looked  up  suddenly  and  saw  him 
entering  the  hall-room.  He  was  of 
commanding  height  and  his  face  was 
the  face  of  the  man  who  has  been 
exposed  to  the  forces  of  Nature.  The 
wind,  11. e  waves,  the  sun,  the  mosquito 
had  set  their  mark  upon  him.  Down 
one  side  of  his  check  was  a  newly- 
healed  scar,  a  scratch  from  a  hippo- 
potamus in  its  last  death-struggle.  A 
legacy  from  a  bison  seared  his  brow. 

He  walked  with  the  soft  easy  tread 
of  the  python,  or  the  Pathan,  or  some 
animal  with  a  "  pth  "  in  it.  Probably 
I  mean  the  panther.  He  bore  himself 
confidently,  and  his  mouth  was  a  trap 
from  which  no  superfluous  word  es- 
caped. He  was  the  strong  silent  man 
of  Jocelyn *s  dreams. 

"  Mr.  Worrall  Brice,  MissMontrevor," 
said  Freddy,  and  left  them. 

Worrall  Brice  bowed  and  stood 
beside  her  with  folded  arms,  his  gaze 
fixed  above  her  head. 

"I  shall  not  expect  you  to  dance," 
said  Joeelyn,  with  a  confidential  smile 
which  implied  that  he  and  she  were 
above  such  frivolities.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  could  have  taught  her  the 
Wogga-Wogga  one-step,  the  Bimbo, 
the  Kiyf,  the  Ju-bu,  the  Head-hunter's 
Hug  and  many  other  cannibalistic  steps 
which,  later  on,  were  to  become  the  rage 
of  London  and  the  basis  of  a  revue. 

"  I  have  often  imagined  you,  as  you 
kept  watch  over  your  camp,"  she  went 
on,  "  and  I  have  seemed  myself  to  hear 
the  savages  and  lions  roaring  outside 
the  circle  of  fire,  what  time  in  the 
swamps  the  crocodiles  were  barking." 

"Yes,"  he  said. 

"  It  must  be  a  wonderful  life." 

"Yes." 

"  If  I  were  a  man  I  should  want  to 
lead  such  a  life;  to  get  away  from  all 
this,"  and  she  waved  her  hand  round 
the  room,  "back  to  Nature.  To  know 
that  I  could  not  eat  until  I  had  first 
killed  my  dinner ;  that  I  could  not  live 
unless  I  slew  the  enemy !  That  must 
be  fine! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Worrall. 

"  I  cannot  get  Freddy  to  see  it.  He 
is  quite  content  to  have  shot  a  few 
grouse  .  .  .  and  once  to  have  wounded 
a  beater.  There  must  be  more  in  life 
than  that." 

"  Yes." 

"  I  suppose  I  am  elemental.  Beneath 
the  veneer  of  civilisation  I  am  a  savage. 
To  wake  up  with  the  war-cry  of  the 
enemy  in  my  ears,  to  sleep  with  the — 


er — barking    of    the    crocodile   in   my 
dreams,  that  is  life  !  " 

Worrall  Brice  tugged  at  his  moustache 

and  gazed  into  space  over  her  head. 

-  Then  ho  spoko. 

"  Crocodiles  don't  bark,"  ho  said. 

.locelyn  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 
"  Hut  in  your  book,  Through  Tracklr 
|  I'uths  !  "  she  cried.    "  1  know  it  almost 
by  heart.     It  was  you  who  taught  me. 
What  are  the  beautiful  words?     'On 
:  the  banks  of  the  sleepy  river  two  great 
crocodiles  were  barking.'  " 

"  Not  '  harking,'  "  said  Worrall. 
"  '  Basking.'  It  was  a  misprint." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Jocelyn.  She  had  a 
moment's  awful  memory  of  all  the 
occasions  when  she  had  insisted  that 
crocodiles  harked.  There  had  been  a 
particularly  fierce  argument  with  Meta 
Richards,  who  had  refused  to  weigh 
even  the  printed  word  of  Worrall  Brice 
against  the  silence  of  the  Kepi  ile  House 
on  her  last  visit  to  the  Zoo. 

"  Well,"  smiled  Jocelyn,  "  you  must 
teach  me  about  those  things.  Will  you 
come  and  see  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Worrall.  lie  rather  liked 
to  stand  and  ga/e  into  the  distance 
while  pretty  women  talked  to  him. 
And  Jocelyn  was  very  pretty. 

"  We  live  in  South  Kensington.  Come 
on  Sunday,  won't  you?  9'J,  Peele 
Crescent." 

"  Yes,"  said  Worrall. 

On  Sunday  Jocelyn  waited  eagerly 
for  him  in  the  drawing-room  of  Peele 
Crescent.  Her  father  was  asleep  in  the 
library,  her  mother  was  dead ;  so  she 
would  have  the  great  man  to  herself 
for  an  afternoon.  Later  she  would 
have  him  for  always,  for  she  meant  to 
marry  him.  And  when  they  were 
married  she  was  not  so  sure  that  they 
would  live  with  the  noise  of  the  crocodile 
harking  or  coughing,  or  whatever  it 
did,  in  their  ears.  She  saw  herself  in 
that  little  house  in  Green  Street  with 
the  noise  of  motor-horns  and  taxi- 
whistles  to  soothe  her  to  sleep. 

Yet  what  a  man  he  was!  What  had 
he  said  to  her?  She  went  over  all  his 
words.  .  .  .  They  were  not  man}-. 

At  six  o'clock  she  was  still  waiting  in 
the  drawing-room  at  Peele  Crescent  .  .  . 

At  six-thirty  Worrall  Brice  had  got 
as  far  as  Peele  Place  .  .  . 

A't  six-forty-five  he  was  back  in 
Radclifie  Square  again  .  .  . 

At  seven  o'clock,  just  as  he  was 
giving  himself  up  for  lost,  he  met  a  taxi 
and  returned  to  St.  James's  Street.  He 
was  a  great  traveller,  but  South  Ken- 
sington had  been  too  much  for  him. 

Next  week  he  went  back  unmarried 
to  the  jungle.  It  was  the  narrowest 
escape  he  had  had.  And  he  would  have 
hated  Green  Street.  A.  A.  M. 


JAKUABT  15.  1913.] 


rUNCH.   Oil   TIIK    U»NI>0\    CIIAKIV  AIM. 


HULLO,  WALTZ-TIKE! 

'I'm:  (ireat  Central  Hall  of  the  Hop 
Market  was  tlio  scene,  on  Monday  l;isi, 
of  u  remarkable  meeting,  convened  by 
tlio  Society  for  Promoting  (iraceful 
Deportment,  and  presided  over  by  Mr. 
Cecil  Ffoulke-Lormg,  the  famous 
iterpsichorean  professor,  with  a  view  to 
'reviving;  the  famous  Old  English  ihuirrs 
associated  with  tlio  Merrie  England  of 
the  past. 

liefore  addressing  the  meeting,  Pro- 
s' Ffoulke-Loring  read  letters  and 
telegrams   from   several    distinguished 
Iympathia0rs  with  the  movement . 

1 11 'i'd  CURZON  wrote:  "I  cordially 
approve  of  the  aim  of  the  meeting. 
Drrorum  is  the  inalienable  Ijeritage  of 
I  lie  Uritish  race,  though  the  exhibitions 
witnessed  in  modern  ball-rooms  suggest 
that  wo  have  exchanged  the  cult  of 
Terpsichore  for  that  of  St.  Yitus.  It 
should  bo  our  duty  to  call  in  the  Old 
World  to  redress  the  outrages  of  the 
New." 

Sir  HERBERT  BEERHOHM  TREE  tele- 
graphed :  "  Am  with  you  he.artand  sole." 

Mr.  FILSON  YOUNO  wrote :  "  Modern 
life  is  sadly  lacking  in  dignity  and  dis- 
tinction, and  it  is  strange  to  note  in 
persons  of  birth  and  breeding  a  ten- 
dency to  relapse,  in  moments  of  ex- 
hilaration, to  the  simian  contortions  of 
the  primitive  savage.  Any  effort  to 
combat  this  retrograde  tendency  will 
receive  'my  most  cordial  and  italic 
support." 

Professor  Ffoulke-Loring,  who  was 
very  heartily  received,  drew  the  atten- 1 
tion  of  his  audience  to  the  circumstance 
that  unless  steps  were  at  once  taken  j 
there  was  ever^danger  of  certain  of  the 
dances  to  which  the  feet  of  our  ancestors 
and  ancestresses  kept  happy  time  re- 
maining for  ever  in  the  oblivion  in 
which  they  were  now  buried.  This 
would  be  a  very  regrettable  calamity. 
Eeeords  of  the  past  told  him  that  the 
\valtx,  the  polka  and  the  lancers  were 
onco  ingredients  of  the  life  of  Merrie 
Kngland,  and  he  had  himself  conversed 
\viili  persons  who  could  recall  these 
measures  and  the  pleasure  they  had 
taken  in  footing  them.  At  a  house  in 
May  fair  ho  had  found  a  comely  lady  of 
forty  who  distinctly  recollected  waltz- 
ing (as  it  was  called)  at  a  ball  in  London. 
There  was  nothing,  sho  was  convinced, 
iu  the  rag-time  dances  of  the  present 
— the  Hugs  and  Trots  and  Cuddles  and 
Strangles  and  Tangos — which  could 
compare  with  the  waltz  for  enjoyment. 

He  had  discovered,  the  Professor  con- 
tinued,  that  musicians  had  existed  who 
wrote  nothing  but  music  for  this  par- 
ticular dance,  and  in  Vienna,  which  he 
had  recently  visited,  there  were  persons  | 
>lill  true  to  it.  It  was  indeed  from.the  I 


S1 

LL 


Maid.  "YES,  MUM;  AND  SHE  WALKS  OUT  nnour.AR  AT  NIGHTS  WITH  Mn.  Rnowx,  TH« 

P.UTCIIKll,    AMD  EVEN  TAKES    'IS  ABM  ',     AH1    Mil.   BROWS  '8  A  MARRIED    MAN,    AS1   Sin:  KNOWS 
IT  AND   'E   KNOWS  IT,  TOO." 


notes  which  he  had  taken  in  Vienna 
that  he  hoped  to  reconstruct  tho  waltz 
for  the  purposes  of  their  Society. 

As  to  his  adventures  in  search  of  the 
correct  steps  of  the  other  obsolete  dances 
which  ho  had  mentioned — the  polka 
and  the  lancers — he  would  at  the  present 
moment  say  nothing. 

NY  hat  was  very  strongly  felt,  both  by 
himself  and  his  committee,  was  that,  if 
only  a  few  negroes  could  be  induced  to 
take  them  up,  all  these  dances  would 
instantly  ho  received  into  favour  by 
the  Smart  Set  of  England  and  their 
prosperity  be  assured. 


Mr.  Ffoulke-Loring  then  read  the 
list  of  subscriptions  towards  the  great 
work  to  which  he  had  set.  his  hand, 
including  £50,  ear-marked  for  waltzing 
reconstruction,  from  Messrs.  Giddy  and 
Giddy.  He  had  also  had  a  promise  of 
support  from  the  well-known  pugilist 
and  bridegroom,  Mr.  JACK  JOHNSON. 
(Great  enthusiasm.) 

A  resolution  in  favour  of  urging  tho 
Government  to  appoint  a  Royal  Com- 
mission to  inquire  into  the  Decadence 
of  Dancing  having  been  unanimously 
passed,  the  meeting  broke  up  to  tho 
strains  of  the  "  Mabel "  Waltz. 


•11 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


A   FLUTTER   ON   THE   FLAT. 

WHEN  wo  were  married,  Elrnira's 
mint  gave  us  a  picture  of  JONAH  and 
the  Whale,  and  after  considerable  dis- 
cussion we  decided  to  hang  it  in  the 
bathroom.  There  is  nothing  indelicate 
about  the  work— if  you  knew  Ehnira's 
aunt  you  would  be  quite  certain  of  that 
—and  indeed  it  is  difficult  to  be  sure 
what  precise  moment  in  the  Scriptural 
drama  the  artist  endeavoured  to  seize. 
The  prophet  is  fully  clothed,  and  there 
is  a  kindly,  almost  quizzical  expression 
on  the  face  of  the  sea-monster.  Neither 
of  us,  Elmira  nor  I,  considers  the  thing 
very  beautiful,  and,  except  when  Miss 
Tompkinson  seemed  likely  to  call,  we 
felt  that  the  bathroom  was  the  most 
suitable  home  for  it.  It  hangs  just 
over  the  geyser  and  looks,  I  think, 
rather  well. 

At  four  o'clock  last  Thursday  after- 
noon the  dreaded  event  happened,  and, 
in  accordance  with  the  pre-arranged 
scheme,  as  soon  as  I  heard  the  draw- 
ing-rooni  door  closed  on  our  visitor 
I  took  a  chair  and  a  bamboo-stick 
and,  successfully  gaffing  the  master- 
piece, hastened  towards  my  study  with 


at 
on  to 


it.   Unhappily,  before  I  could  get!  there, 
the  drawing-room  door  opened  again. 
Without  a  doubt,  Elmira's  aunt  in- 
tended to  be  shown  round  the  flat,  and 
since  my  study  is  opposite  the  drawing- 
room  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but 
to  take  refuge  in  the  kitchen.    As  Fate 
would  have  it,  this  was,  of  course,  the 
very  room  which  Elmira's  aunt  im- 
mediately wished  to  inspect.    Perhaps 
she  wanted  to  look  at  the  colander — - 
I  know  there  is  a  colander  because  I 
have  paid  foi  it,  but  I  have  never  yet 
been  allowed  to  see  it  at  its  work ;  or 
it  may  have  been  the  nutmeg-grater — 
I  am  told  we  have  a  very  beautiful  nut- 
meg-grater.   Anyhow,  before  they  came 
in  I  bolted  with  a  cry  of  alarm  into  the 
larder  and  slammed  the  door.    Then 
I  realised  that  I  was  trapped  again,  for 
there  is  no  bolt  on  the  inside  of  the 
larder  door.   It  would  have  been  absurd 
for  the  master  of  the  house  to  be  dis- 
covered weltering  amongst  the  remains 
of  the  cold  mutton,  clasping  the  repre- 
sentation of  a  Biblical  crisis  under  one 
arm.   So  I  crawled  with  some  difficulty 
through  the  larder  window  on  to  the 
roof — ours  is  the  highest  flat  in  the 
buildings — and   dragged  the  seascape 
after  me. 

It  is  a  great  pity  that  people  should 
go  and  leave  unnecessary  nails  sticking 
out  of  window-casements  and  that  it 
is  not  someone's  business  to  keep  the 
slates  of  London  roofs  clean.  I  made 
my  way,  however,  with  a  little  trouble, 
to  the  sky-light  over  the  landing  and 
dropped  down  opposite  our  front  door. 


I  was  just  going  to  let  myself  in  when 
I  heard  voices  on  the  other  side. 
Apparently  Elmira's  aunt  was  just 
going  to  leave.  I  felt  that  she  must 
havo°been  disappointed  at  not  seeing 
her  picture,  but  it  was  too  late  to  bother 
about  that  now— at  any  rate,  she  had 
not  seen  it  over  the  geyser.  The  one 
thing  to  do  was  to  escape,  and,  since 
our  lift  is  temporarily  disabled,  I  ran 
downstairs  into  the  street — it  was  the 
only  way.  Several  people  looked 
me  rather  curiously  when  I  got  on 
the  pavement,  and  I  suppose  it  is  a 
little  unusual  for  an  English  gentleman 
to  take  the  air  in  a  rather  grimy  con- 
dition with  no  hat  on  and  a  large  rent 
in  his  trousers,  and  carrying  a  bamboo 
stick  in  one  hand  and  a  large  picture  of 
a  devotional  nature  in  the  other.  I  did 
not  see  'the  joke  myself.  To  avoid 
ostentation  I  summoned  a  taxi-cab. 
"  Wtiere  to  ?  "  shouted  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  and  I  said,  rather  recklessly 
perhaps, "  The  Royal  Academy."  When 
we  were  about  half-way  there  I  decided 
that  the  coast  must  be  clear,  and  told 
the  man  to  turn  round  and  go  back. 
Still  rather  unmanned,  but  feeling  con- 
siderably relieved,  I  let  myself  into  the 
flat  and  immediately  came  face  to  face 
with  Elmira  and  her  aunt. 

"Oh,  you've  got  it!"  said  Elmira 
(I  married  Elmira  partly  for  her  quick 
intuitions),  clasping  her  hands  and 
positively  beaming.  "  I  was  just  telling 
Auntie  that  we  broke  the  glass  of  her 
beautiful  picture  while  we  were  trying 
to  hang  it  in  the  drawing-room  this 
morning,  and  that  I  had  sent  you  off 


to  get  it  mended  at  once." 
If  you   stay   at  our   flat 


you 


will 


probably  notice  the  picture  of  JONAH 
and  the  Whale  while  you  take  your 
morning  tub ;  it  imparts  an  air  of  salt 
water.  It  is  placed  just  over  the 
geyser,  and  on  the  wall  opposite  I  have 
hung  a  bamboo  walking-stick. 


"  The  daily  round,  the  common  task." 

"Marriage  Licence  £2;   Special  about  £30." 
Lctts's  Diary. 

This  comes  under  the  general  heading 
of  "  Daily  Wants  Dictionary."  Some 
people  are  always  drifting  into  habits. 


Record  Foot- Wear. 

"  His  Honour  Judge  Gent,  at  the  Launcos- 
ton  County  Court,  delivered  judgment  in  the 
case  of  Ashton  v.  Cann,  concerning  the  alleged 
purchase  of  defendant's  sock  for  £'2,000. " 

Devon  and  Exeter  Gazette. 


THE  TORTURE. 

["  And  the  hoofiid  heel  of  a  satyr  crushes 
The  chestnut-husk  at  the  chestnut-root." 
— Atalanta  in  Calydon.] 

Is  there  At6  for  the  drunkard  ? 
i  Is  there  sorrow  for  the  fool  ? 
Is  it  dreadful  to  be  bunkered  ? 

Is  there  pain  when  love  grows  cool  ? 
Ah,  but  hope  more  surely  withers, 

Pleasure  dies  and  joys  are  o'er 
When  I  've  failed  to  tell  old  Smithera 
(Best  of  chaps,  but  how  ho  blithers !) 

That  I  'vo  heard  the  little  story  that 
he  wants  to  tell  before. 

Mere  politeness  starts  the  error ; 

He  dislikes  to  think  it  stale ; 
Ah,  but  the  unholy  terror 

On  my  lying  lips  and  pale 
As  he  turns  on  me  his  glances ! 

How  I  tremble  in  my  joints 
As  the  anecdote  advances, 
As  I  fail  to  seize  the  chances 

Of  the  proper  mode  of  laughter  for 
the  prefatory  points  1 

Will  he  tell  it  as  my  father 

Told  it  mo  when  I  was  young  ? 
Will  he  use  the  version  rather 

That  the  poet  CHAUCER  sung  ? 
Thoughts  like  these  begin  to  harrow 

As  he  quarries  that  antique 
Shaft  of  humour  like  an  arrow 
From  an  early  English  barrow 

While  the  perspiration    oozes    and 
comes  trickling  down  my  cheek. 

Yea,  and  what  if  some  suspicion 

Cross  his  mind  before  the  end? 
What  if  by  some  thought-transmission 

He  should  find  me  out?     0  friend, 
You  who  read  the  subtle  novels 

Of  the  school  of  HENBY  JAMES, 
You  can  guess  the  imp  that  grovels 
Darkly  in  my  cranial  hovels 

As  the  jest  winds  slowly  seawards  to 
the  full-mouthed  roar  it  claims. 

Ay,  and  if  the  end  completed 

All  the  anguish,  all  the  pain ; 
If  those  moments  tense  and  heated 

Passed,  and  I  might  breathe  again ;    : 
No,  for  sometimes  rnid  the  thunder 

Of  my  mirth  the  man  recalls 
How  he  split  his  sides  asunder 
Whilst  I  sat  in  wan-cheeked  wonder 

When  we  heard  that  joke  last  Christ- 
mas cracked  upon  the  music- 
halls.  EVOE. 


"Dr.  Waldio  was  a  native  of  Linlithgow, 
and  the  anniversary  of  his  birth  occurs  this 
year. ' ' — Scotsman. 

There  is  always  something  remarkable 
about  a  Scotchman. 


From  a  letter  in  The  Standard  : — 

"Sir, — Never  at  any  time  noted  amongst: 
nations  for  good  manners,  I  find  on  my  return 
from  abroad  after  an  absence  of  ten  years 
that  English  manners  are  now  utterly  a  thing 
of  the  past." 

The  writer  is  too  diffident  about  him- 
self. We  happen  to  know  that  Holland 
was  charmed  with  his  behaviour. 


JANUARY  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


45 


THE  BILLIARD-ROOM. 

THERE  was  no  possible  mistake  about 
it.  "Billiard-room" — those  were  the 
words;  and  as  a  billiard-room  was  a 
sine  qua  won,  and  the  rest  of  the  de- 
scription of  the  house  seemed  satis- 
factory and  its  situation  was  agreeable, 
I  chartered  a  car  at  enormous  expense 
— no  one  can  call  tenpcnco  a  mile  any- 
thing but  enormous  expense — and 
hurried  away  with  an  "  order  to  view." 

It  was  not  a  bad  house.  The  agent's 
printed  words  and  the  edifice  cannot  bo 
said  exactly  to  have  run  in  double 
harness;  but  it  was  not  a  bad  house. 
I  don't  say  I  should  myself  have  called 
it  precisely  "  old  world,"  but  then  I  am 
rather  fastidious  about  epithets ;  and  it 
was  obvious  that  if  one  of  the  alleged 
seven  bedrooms  was  used  as  a  dressing- 
room  the  number  of  the  bedrooms 
would  be  reduced  to  six;  that  is  to 
say,  the  house  possessed  either  seven 
bed-rooms  and  no  dressing-room,  or  a 
dressing-room  and  six  bedrooms,  but 
under  no  conditions  seven  bedrooms  as 
well  as  a  dressing-room,  as  the  specifi- 
cation would  have  you  think.  Still,  it 
•was  not  a  bad  house. 

Having  seen  all  over  it  I  asked  the 
"caretaker  on  premises"  if  I  might 
now  look  at  the  billiard-room. 

"  Billiard-room  ?  "  she  said  vaguely. 

I  showed  her  the  agent's  list,  with 
the  smiling  announcement  in  black- 
and-white. 

She  read  it,  but  was  still  nonplussed. 
At  last  a  light  broke  in.  "Oh,  yes," 
she  said,  "I  suppose  they  mean  the 
attic ; "  and  she  again  led  the  way 
upstairs  to  a  point  on  the  top  landing 
beneath  a  trap-door  in  the  ceiling. 

"  They  mean  that,"  she  said.  "Would 
you  like  to  go  up?  There's  a  ladder 
close  by." 

I  declined.  A  half-size  bagatelle- 
board  might  conceivably  be  insinuated 
through  this  trap  and  erected  on  the 
unstable  floor;  but  nothing  bigger  or 
heavier ;  and  as  for  light  .  . ' . 

This — and  many  similar  experiences 
— make  it  necessary  to  address  to  the 
house-agency  profession  (or  is  it  craft  ?) 
the  following  epistle : — 

DEAR  SIRS, — May  I  draw  your  at- 
tention to  an  old  aphorism,  "  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy  "  ?  Not  that  I  think 
you  exactly  dishonest — that  is  perhaps 
too  strong  a  term  for  deviations  from 
accuracy  which  are  prompted,  I  am 
convinced,  by  no  more  culpable  motives 
than  the  desire  to  see  properties  change 
hands,  house-hunters  satisfied,  and 
yourselves  the  recipients  of  commis- 
sion. None  the  less,  there  are  only 
two  things:  truth  and  that  which  is 
not  truth  ;  and  you  might  just  as  well 
pin  your  faitli  to  truth  as  to  the  other  \ 


••PARDON  ME,  MADAM,  BUT  son 'BE  STANDING  OH  MY  FEET." 

"  IF  YOU  WERE  ANYTHING  OP  A  UAH  YOO  *D  BE  STANDING  OH  THEM  YOUBSEUT." 


fellow.  For  consider  how  short  a  run 
your  untruth  has.  It  is  discovered 
almost  instantly. 

I  suppose  that  to  suggest  that  you 
should  yourselves  see  all  the  houses  on 
your  lists  is  to  become  unpractical. 
I  feel  sure  I  shall  be  told  so.  Let  that 
point  then  go.  But  since  you  cannot 
conduct  your  business  thoroughly  and 
are  content  to  recommend  piga  in 
pokes,  in  defiance  of  sound  commercial 
principles,  may  I  implore  you  to  take 
such  a  simple  precaution  as  to  ask  the 
owners  of  the  houses  on  your  books  for 
measurements  ?  That  surely  would  be 
easy  and  save  many  fruitless  journeys 
on  the  part  of  house-hunters. 

The  other  day  one  of  your  fraternity 
sent  me  into  the  country  to  a  distant 
spot  to  sco  a  "  Grange."  Will  it  be 
believed  that  when  I  reached  it  I  found 
a  semi-detached  villa?  And  this  after 
I  had  given  a  full  account  of  the  kind 
of  isolated  d\velling  I  desired  1 


But  enough.  You  are  for  the  most 
part  amiable  gentlemen  and  I  like  to 
watch  you.  And  no  doubt  when  one 
is,  so  to  speak,  not  a  real  business  man 
at  all  but  a  commender  of  other  people's 
wares  and  a  dependent  upon  commis- 
sion, one  gets  into  florid  habits  of  per- 
suasive speech.  All  the  same,  I  am 
convinced  you  would  lose  nothing  in 
the  long  run  if  you  occasionally  saw 
a  house  for  yourselves  and  if  you 
always  aimed  at  a  frugal  accuracy 
in  describing  them. 

"  The  manager  .  .  .  has  been  sent  on  a  tour 
of  the  European  countries  to  collect  special!  tit  s 
and  luxuries  of  cuisine  in  each  country  [for 
the  new  Hamburg-American  liner].  Sweden 
will  be  represented  by  Stockholm's  speciality 
hors  d'ceuvres,  Russia  by  caviare  and  bosch 
(soups)." — Daily  yews  and  Leader. 

Caviare  is,  of  course,  a  clear  soup.  You 
should  see  P.  W.  W.  and  the  other 
young  tigers  of  The  Daily  News  re- 
newing their  youth  on  it  1 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVABI.  [JAKPABT  15,  1913. 


OUT   OF    HIS  ELEMENT. 

Good-natured  Sportsman  (on  receiving  a  cup  of  tea).  "WELI.,  CHEEE-O,  EVEETBODT!" 


A  TRANSFORMATION   SCENE. 

["  At  the  Zoological  Gardens  the  nxololl,  a  large  newt  living  entirely 
in  water,  has  been  induced  to  change  into  an  amblystoma,  a  typical 
land-animal." — The  Times.} 

"You  're  merely  idiotic,  •with  your  talk  of  special  diet — 
As  if  a  dish  of  dragon-fly  would  serve  to  keep  me  quiet  I 
It  'B  anger,  Sir — an  anger  I  am  powerless  to  bottle, 
Which  ruins  my  digestion,"  quoth  the  pallid  axolotl. 

"  Come,  frankly,  Mr.  Keeper,  Sir — explain  to  me,  what  is  it 
That  makes  mo  pine  in  solitude  for  days  without  a  visit  ? 
While,  if  a  stranger  does  appear,  immediately  the  brute 
Hurries  away,  remarking, '  Ugh  I  A  creepy-crawly  newt  1 ' " 

"  Er,"  said  the  keeper  thoughtfully, — "  er — well,  tho  public 

taste 

In  matters  zoological  is  shockingly  debased, 
And  so "     "You  can't  imagine  that  your  superficial 

rot '11 
Impose  upon,"  tho  other  said,  "  a  clever  axolotl  ? 

"No;  let  me  own  the  horrid  truth :  though  very  lithe  and 

active, 
The  sad  conviction  dogs  me  that  I  cannot  be  attractive  I 

Now  if  I  were  an  elephant,  a  kangaroo,  or  someone " 

"  Why,  then  your  course  is  plain  enough,"  tho  keeper  said ; 

"  become  one  1 

"  Become  one,  axolotl  dear  I     Imagine  the  sensation  1 
ThcTvmcs  will  print  a  paragraph  about  your  transformation ! 
If  in  making  a  selection  I  can  be  of  any  use,  you 
Have  only  got  to  mention  it.    Now  do  lot  me  induce  yon ! 


"  The  lion  is  a  noble  beast,  the  panther  is  unpleasant, 
The  monkey — no,  the  monkey-house  is  over-full  at  present ; 
The  skunk  is  reckoned  fetching,  though  a  rather  strong 

aroma " 

Eureka  I "  cried  tho  happy  newt,  "  I  '11  bo — an  ambly- 

stomal" 

"  Good !  "  said  the  keeper,  skilfully  dissembling  his  amaze ; 
"  You  couldn't  choose  a  better  if  you  thought  of  it  for  days  I 
An  ambly  .  .  that's  the  very  thing  to  suit  tho  Gardens 

nicely ! 
You'll  work  the  trick,  I  think  you  said — at  what  o'clock 

precisely  ?  " 

"  Good  Sir,"  replied  the  other,  "  pray  consider  the  unfitness 
Of  (so  to  speak)  disrobing  in  tho  presence  of  a  witness  1 
As  soon   as   you  have  disappeared  tho  process   will    be 

started. 
Hence,  hence,  away,  immodest  man!"     The  keeper  then 

departed. 

Forthwith  the  gallant  newt  began  some  complicated  move- 
ments 

Essential  to  "  extensive  alterations  and  improvements," 
Till  finally,  relapsing  in  a  state  of  placid  coma, 
He  slept — an  axolotl ;  and  awoke — an  amblystoma  1 

DECA.XUS. 

Scylla  and  Charybdis. 

"  Dean  Ingo  in  an  interview  yesterday  said  that  no  stone  vrouM  be 
left  unturned  to  stop  the  scheme  for  a  tramway  beneath  St.  Paul's." 

Daily  Sketch. 

The  DKAN'S  threat  strikes  at  tlie  very  foundations  of  tho 
cathedral. 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIYARL— JANUARY  15,  1913. 


WHO'S    AFBAID? 


JANUARY  15,  1913.1 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


49 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  rnoii  THE  DIAIIY  o»  TOBY,  JI.P.) 


TIM  IIEALT,  whilo  HAYES-FISHER  was  speaking,  "  took  a  census." 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  January 
6. — As  the  15th  of  January  approaches, 
bringing  fulfilment  of  promise  of 
£d.  for  id.  through  operation  of  In- 
surance Act,  Questions  designed  to 
hamper  accomplishment  of  the  benefi- 
cent work  fall  off  in  number.  To-day 
there  was,  by  exception,  remarkable 
recrudescence.  Probably  a  final  foray, 
it  beat  the  record.  Of  eighty-six 
Questions  on  papor  the  first  thirty-one 
wore  addressed  to  FINANCIAL  SEC- 
RETARY TO  THE  TREASURY.  Each 

presented  a  more  or  less  cleverly  con- 
structed conundrum  suggesting  diffi- 
culties in  working  the  Act.  The  number 
•was  increased  by  ten,  MASTEHMAN, 
Ready  as  usual  to  take  on  fresh 
work,  answering  for  CHANCELLOR  OP 
EXCHEQUER  to  whom  they  were  ad- 
dressed. This  made  forty-one  Questions, 
nearly  one-half  of  the  whole  replied  to 
by  a  single  Minister. 

Statement  only  partially  represents 
the  case.  With  few  exceptions  each 
of  the  Questions  was  a  congeries  of 
interrogation.  Thus  whilst  they  num- 
bered up  to  forty-ono  they  actually 
presented  ninety  separate  and  distinct 
enquiries,  each  calling  for  detailed 
reply.  Nor  is  this  all.  Ministerial 
answer  was  invariably  followed  by 
crowd  of  Supplementary  Questions. 
The  minimum  was  two;  the  average 
three ;  sometimes  the  number  ran  up  to 
six.  Taking  the  average  as  three  we 


have  123  supplementing  what  may  be 
called  the  mother  questions,  bringing 
up  the  total  to  213. 

Purists  in  Parliamentary  procedure 
might  be  disposed  to  describe  this  as 
disorderly  debate,  outraging  funda- 
mental principle  upon  which  .  the 
Eractice  of  seeking  useful  information 
•om  Ministers  is  based.  Not  at  all. 
It  is  the  latest  development  of  the 
Question-hour.  If  some  score  of  Mem- 
bers who,  in  obedience  to  Standing 
Order,  have  given  notice  of  their  Ques- 
tions and  duly  placed  them  on  the  Paper, 
find  the  list  closed  by  time  limit  before 
their  names  are  called  on,  it  is  their  mis- 
fortune. They  should  either  ask  Sup- 
plementary Questions  or  give  private 
notice  to  a  Minister  of  intention  to 
cross-examine  him  on  a  particular 
point.  By  this  last  device  they  would 
gain  the  privilege  of  reading  their 
Question  aloud,  a  delight  denied  to  the 
commonplace  Member  who  subjects 
himself  to  the  spirit  and  the  letter  of 
the  Standing  Order  governing  the 
Question-hour. 

Business  done. — Clause  13  of  Welsh 
Church  Disestablishment  Bill  added  in 
Committee.  Long  debate  left  undeter- 
mined the  crucial  question, "  What  is  a 
layman  ?  " 

Tuesday. — Read  sometimes  in  the 
papers  of  the  silver  market  going 
"  up  "  or  "  down  "  so  many  points. 
Don't  know  why  it  should  do  either, 


or  indeed  why  it  shouldn't.  Equal 
mystery  broods  over  recently  born 
absorbing  passion  of  RUPERT  GWTNNE, 
known  in  smoking-room  conversation 
as  "  Silver-Market "  GWYNNE.  To-day 
he  rose  ten  points — I  mean  ten  times 
— with  searching  inquiry  about  that 
purchase  of  silver  (or  was  it  a  sale?) 
on  account  of  Indian  Government. 
India  Office,  in  reply  to  questions 
with  which  they  have  been  bombarded 
during  last  couple  of  months,  stato 
that  by  clever  management  the  City 
firm  entrusted  with  the  business  out- 
witted group  of  market  operators  and 
saved  tho  Treasury  £100,000.  "  Silver- 
Market"  GWYNNE,  whose  intimacy  with 
intricacies  of  the  trade  is  extensive  and 
peculiar,  knows  better. 

Hence  severe  catechism  to  which 
from  time  to  time  ho  subjects  represen- 
tative of  India  Office.  Of  late  has  eased 
off  a  little.  Sometimes  whole  week 
passes  without  our  hearing  from  him. 
Then,  as  to-day,  he  starts  afresh.  Ever 
in  the  same  unimpassioned  manner,  the 
same  monotonous  tone,  and  withal  tho 
same  unmistakable  air  of  conveying  to 
House  impression  that  if  he  were  to  tell 
all  he  knew  he  would  make  its  flesh 
creep  and  its  hair  uprise  in  affright. 

By  accident  there  are  two  Members 
seated  in  close  proximity  below  Gang- 
way, each  bubbling  with  possession  of 
secret  information,  both  restrained  by 
fetters  of  Parliamentary  procedure  from 


50 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVAltf. 


[.JANUARY  15,  1913. 


telling  all  they  know.  How  different 
i-i  their  manner  of  comporting  them- 
selves !  "  Silver  -  Market  "  G  \VYNX  i ' , 
standing  by  Front  Bench,  from  corner 
seat  of  which  COUSIN  Ilucm  is  periodi- 
ciilly  evicted,  is  depressed  with  secret 
knowledge  of  dark  doings  in  the  City. 
Mr.  GINXKLII,  rising  from  second  bench 
behind  him,  is  ebullient  with  information 
that  makes  mystery  of  robbery  of  Crown 
Jewels  from  Dublin  Castle  clear  as  noon- 
day. Whilst  one,  putting  his  question, 
remains  impassive,  looking  as  if  a  silver 
florin  wouldn't  melt  in  his  mouth,  the 
other  is  almost  blatant  in  desire  to. 
impart  his  private  information.  On? 
Monday  ho  started  at  a  gallop,  resolved 
to  make  a  complete  exposure.  Com- 
menced to  cite  a  list  of  namss  of  noble 
lords  and  others  alleged  to  be 
implicated,  when  SPE'AKEI: 
hastily  interposed  and  ho 
was  compelled  to  resume 
his  seat. 

Up  again  a  moment  later, 
prepared  to  go  on  fresh  tack. 
Has  invented  and  developed 
improved  system  of  putting 
Supplementary  Questions. 
Others  trust  to  inspiration 
and  spur  of  moment ;  Mr. 
GINNKI.L  brings  down  with 
liini  Supplementary  Ques- 
tions more  or  less  illegibly 
written  out  on  scraps  of 
paper,  which  sometimes  get 
mixed  up,  with  hopeless 
result.  Proposed  to  read  one 
of  these,  but  SPEAKER  called 
on  Member  next  in  order- 
on  Questiom  Paper,  and, 
before  Mr.  GINNELL  knew 
where  he  was,  House  was 
led  off  on  quite  another  line. 
So  lie  perforce  remained 


Welsh 
liocn 


SCOTT  DICKSON  in  debate  on 
Church  Disestablishment  Bill, 
arguing  that  it  is  easy  to  distinguish 
between  a  churchman  and  a  member  of 
a  nonconformist  body,  SCOTT  DICKSO.N 
testified  that  there  would  be  great 
'difficulty  in  Scotland  in  distinguishing 
between  a  IT.  F.  Churchman  and  a 
Free  Churchman. 

This  knocked  BOCK  over;  but  only 
for  a  moment. 

"I  will  not,"  he  said,  recovering  his 
breath,  "  follow  the  right  honourable 
gentleman  into  the  realm  of  Scottish 
metaphysics  or  Scottish  ecclesiastic-ism. 


I  feel  tho  difficulty  that,  whereas  the 
short  but  practical  English  Catechism 
begins  by  asking  what  is  your  name, 
the  Scottish  Catechism  starts  with  the  I 


THE   DOMESTIC  PROBLEM 
BOLTED. 

ls~  consequence  of  the  success  attend- 
ing the  new  style  of  advertisement  for 
domestic  help,  Mr.  Punch  begs  Id 
announce  that  he  lias  opened  a  column 
on  similar  lines.  Harassed  mistresses 
will  do  well  to  adjust  their  old-fashioned 
ideas  to  modern  requirements,  for,  as 
the  subjoined  specimens  show,  it  is  l>v 
alluring  and  attractive  advertisement 
only  that  the  heart  of  the  independent 
domestic  can  be  reached. 


Mr. 


seated,  studying  with  puzzled  counten- 
ance his  perverse  memoranda. 

litisiru'ss  done. — In  Committee  on 
Home  Rule  Bill.  Amendment  carried 
by  overwhelming  majority  embodying 
principle  of  proportional  representation 
in  now  Irish  Parliament.  But,  though 
sound  of  division  bell  brings  in  a  crowd, 
desolate  appearance  of  benches  -while 
debate  goes  forward  remains.  TIM 
Hi  M,Y,  most  constant  in  attendance, 
confided  to  House  that  while  HAYES- 
FISHEB  was  speaki ng  he ' 'took  a  census." 
He  found  there  were  present  twenty-one 
Liberals,  fifteen  Tories,  and  seventeen 
Nationalists;  total  fifty-three.  This 
interesting  return  accurately  represents 
measure  of  interest  displayed  in  Bill, 
for  discussing  Report  Stage  of  which 
an  allotment  of  seven  days  is  denounced 
as  shamefully  inadequate. 

Friday — Should  a  red  herring  be 
expected  to  touch  the  point  ?  Question 
arises  upon  remark  interpolated  by 


pu/zler, 


SITUATIONS  VACANT. 

COOK. — Age  and  salary  to  suit  appli- 
cant. Outings,  day  a  week,  week-end 
month,  every  Sunday.  Mistress  good- 
tempered  and  short-sighted. 
Master  deaf  and  easy-going,  j 
Neighbourhood  noted  for  j 
handsome  policemen.  Fol- 
lowers winked  at  in  kitchen. 
Gramophone  in  scullery. 
Lib.  perks;  no  cap.  Good 
time  guaranteed.  —  Apply, 
MHS.  BATKHAM,  Whitelands, 
Park  View,  New  Dulwich. 
NUI;SE  -HOUSEMAID.  —  3 
children,  2  could  be  disposed 
of  during  day.  Well-trained 
baby.  Vacuum  flask  for 
night  'bottle.  Luxurious  ! 
nursery.  White  pram,  smart 
uniform  provided.  Choice  of 
v.-alks,  no  questions  asked. 
Novelettes  not  objected  to. 
— Apply,  The  Nest,  Mea- 
{lowsideRoad.Brondesbury. 
P  A  if  r,  o  ir  r:  M  A  i  n.  —  £3  it. 
Sobriety  and  cleanliness  not 
essential.  Outings  by  re- 
quest. Family  entertain  at 
restaurants.  Spare  time 

What  is  the  ultimate  end  of  for  blouse  making  and  hat  trimming 

guaranteed  daily.     Frequent  gifts  from 
Mistress's  smart  wardrobe.     Servant's 


SECRET  INFOESUTION  TO  MAKK  YOUR  pr.rcsir 

(Crown  Jewels)  and  Mr.  GWYNXE  (Silver  Market) 


promptly    retorted    SCOTT 
is  a  very  good  red  herring. 


man  ? 

"That," 
DrcKSON,  ' 
But  it  does  not  touch  the  point." 

Complimentary  allusion  to  quality  of 
an  opponent's  fish  was  in  good  taste, 
maintaining  high  level  of  courtesy  in 
Parliamentary  debate.  But  it  leaves 
undetermined  the  problem  whether  a 
red  herring,  good,  bad  or  indifferent, 
may  reasonably  be  expected  to  "  touch 
the  point."  If  answer  be  in  the 
affirmative,  it  would  be  interesting  to 
know  what  consequences  may  be  ex- 
pected to  follow  upon  impact. ' 

riitsincss  done.— Week  wound  up  with 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill 
still  in  Committee.  Ministerial  majority 
steadily  maintained  at  or  about  six 
score,  being  something  like  twenty 
above  normal. 

MOTTO  POP.  UNIOKISTS.—  Foi  ft  Loi! 


Free  ticket  for  Cinema 
No  cold  meat. — Apply, 


hall  overlooks  street.     Young  superior 
tradesmen  call_  daily.     Use  of  piano 
and  bicycle, 
twice  a  week. 

The  Oasis,  Fitzwilliam  Hill,  Hampstead. 
GENEKAL. —  Comf.  home.  Wages 
£42.  No  tax,  no  stairs,  no  windows, 
no  children,  no  coals,  no  washing. 
Daughters  willingly  undertake  heavy 
work.  Servants'  relatives  welcomed 
and  entertained  in  kitchen.  Fancy- 
work  encouraged.  Early  riser  pre- 
ferred, but  not  essential.  No  cap,  no 
flues ;  feather  bed. — Apply,  MRS.  HOPE, 
The  Moorings,  Winchmore  Hill. 


Intensive  Culture  in  the  East. 
'I  They  arc  nipping  in  tho  bud  tho  seeds, 
which  they  aro  endeavouring  to  sow  in  the 
interest  of    tho   upheaval   of   Indian   women 
on  the  lines  o!  modern  European  civilisation." 
Allahabad  ficader. 


JANUARY  15,  191:).] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


FIDO. 

LAST  \\cek  the  idea  came  to  mo  in  a 
bright  moment  to  call  upon  Suzanne 
and  make  lirr  an  oiler  of  marriage,  and 
as  il  \Viis  I'onr  in  Hie  iifternoon  I  d, 
lo  put  on  my  best  suit  and  commence 
immediately.  Ushered  into  her  mother's 
drawing-room,  T  found  her  alone  on  the 
sofa  holding  in  her  lap  what,  appeared 
at  first  sight  to  he  a  piece  of  disused 
hearthrug. 

"  Hnllo,  James,  deal-  old  tiling,"  she 
said,  "come  and  ho  introduced  to 
Mm  maduke." 

I  advanced  and  poked  the  object  with 
some  idea  of  discovering  its  nature. 

It  gave  vent  to  a  horrible  squeal,  and 
I  sprang  hack  in  alarm. 

"  My  goodness,"  I  said,  "  the  thing  's 
alive." 

"Of  course  it  is.  What  did  you 
expect  '.'  " 

I  approached  again  and  looked  at  it 
closely. 

"  But  what  is  it  ?  "     I  asked. 

'•  Why,  it 's  a  dog,  of  course." 

" A  dog! " 

"  Yes,  a  dog.  What  did  you  think 
it  was?  " 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  pen-wiper." 

Suzanne  pouted. 

"  You  're  a  very  fine  dog,  aren't 
you?"  she  said,  addressing  the  insect. 

"  Good  old  Fido,"  I  said. 

"  His  name  isn't  Fido,"  said  Suzanne. 
"  It 's  Marmaduke." 

"  Oh  !    What  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

'•  Why,  bless  the  man, "she  exclaimed, 
"  1  call  him  Marmaduke,  so  he  is 
Marmaduke,  isn't  he?" 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  he  isn't.  I  always 
call  dogs  Fido ;  and  I  see  no  reason 
now  to  abandon  the  custom,  so  I  shall 
continue  to  speak  of  him  as  Fido." 

Suxanne  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Oh,  well,  ring  for  tea  anyway,"  she 
said. 

I  had  got  the  best  of  the  argument, 
and  I  rejoiced  about  it  at  the  time,  but 
1  am  inclined  to  think  that  a  little 
diplomacy  would  perhaps  have  been 
wiser. 

I  had  not  however  called  upon  Suzanne 
that  afternoon  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
putting  her  right  in  the  matter  of  her 
dog's  name.  I  had  a  more  delicate  feat 
to  perform,  and,  while  wearing  an  air 
of  easy  nonchalance  and  touching  lightly 
on  the  topics  of  the  day,  I  deftly  ap- 
proached the  question  which  lay  so  near 
my  heart. 

With  the  advent  of  tea  I  began  to 
skirmish  about  the  bush. 

I  helped  myself  to  a  fair-sized  muffin. 
It  is  a  good  thing  to  have  something 
substantial  to  hold  on  to  in  a  crisis. 

"  You  may  have  noticed,  my  dear 
Suxanne,"  I  began,  "that  I  have  been 


Mutlier.  " LUCKY  BOY,  GKRALD.     VXCLE  CHARLES  SAYS  UK'S  ooixo  TO  TAKE  YOU  TO 

TJANE  AOAIX  THIS  YEAH.    WELL,  YOU  DON'T  LOOK  VEKY  PLEASED." 
(lerahl.  "  On,  IT  's  VERY  KIND  OF  UNCLE  AND  ALL  THAT,  BUT  ox  TJIESK  OCCASIONS  HE 

ALWAYS  BEHAVES  JUST  LIKE   A  KID." 


paying  you  what    I  may   describe   as 
marked  attentions  for  no  little  time." 

I  took  a  bite  of  muffin  and  gazed  at 
her  over  the  top  of  it  to  observe  the 
effect  of  my  words. 

"  I  come  round  here  on  fine  after- 
noons," I  pursued,  "  when  I  might  he — 
working.     I  take  you  to  dances  and  for , 
your    sake   endure    sleepless    nights — 
and — sleepy  days.     I  give  you  boxes  of  j 
chocolates  in  season  and  out  of  season. 
In  short,   I  would   appear  to   be   de- 
cidedly .  .  .  fpris  ...  if  you  know  the 
word  ..." 

"  Of  course  I  know  the  word,"  she 
interrupted.  "  Why,  I  believe  you 
learnt  it  from  me." 


"Possibly,"  I  said.  "But  that  is  beside 
the  point.  The  point  is  why — why  do 
I  do  all  this  ?  " 

"  Goodness  knows." 

"  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  because  I  am, 
in  fact  .  .  .  dpris." 

Suzanne,  overcome  with  sweet  modest 
blushes,  gazed  with  downcast  eyes  at 
Fido  curled  up  in  her  lap,  and  vouch- 
safed no  reply. 

"  And  yet,"  I  continued,  "  neither 
your  father  nor  your  mother  has  made 
bold  to  ask  me  my  intentions.  Bather 
singular,  isn't  it  ?  '' 

I  took  another  bite  of  muffin. 

"  I  might,  without  exaggeration,  say 
very  singular." 


52 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON   CHAEIVAEI. 


[.JANUARY  15,  1913. 


"In  their  absence,"  said  Suzanne, 
"  I  must  apologise  for  them.  They  are 
both  a  little  forgetful." 

"  That  may  be,"  I  replied  with  dig- 
niu.  "but  it  remains  to  bo  said  that 
MIO-.I  men  would  have  la  ken  advantage 
of  this  and  gone  off  and  been  lost  alto- 
gether. However,"  I  added,  "I  am 
made  of  different  stuff  or  east  in  a 
different  mould — I  forget  which — and 
1  have  come  here  to-day  to  make  a 
voluntary  declaration." 

"You  overwhelm  me!"  exclaimed 
Suzanne. 

"  I  ought  perhaps  to  tell  you  that 
this  is  not  at  all  the  sort  of  marriage  I 
expected  to  contract  when  I  started  out 
in  life.  I  thought  then  that  I  should 
probably  wed  a  society  beauty  and  have 
my  photograph  in  The  Taller  .  .  .  but 
somehow  you  have  crept  into  my  heart 
— or  whatever  the  technical  expression 
is— and  .  .  .  and,  in  short,  I  ...  love 
you." 

At  this  critical  point  in  my  declara- 
tion Suzanne,  shaken  no  doubt  by  a 
very  natural  emotion,  spilt  some  hot  tea 
on  to  Fido.  It  was,  of  course,  a  pure 
accident,  but  the  little  beast  worked 
itself  up  into  a  fearful  state  about  it, 
squealing  in  a  more  horrible  manner 
than  before. 

She  caught  it  up  in  her  arms,  kissing 
it  and  begging  to  be  forgiven. 

"  -My  poor  darling !  Was  it  scalded, 
then?" 

It  was  too  much. 

"  Come,  come,"  I  said,  "  you  really 
must  leave  your  toys  alone  now  and 
attend  to  me.  Let  us  put  Fido  away 
in  the  cupboard." 

Suzanne  stood  up,  panting  with  in- 
dignation. Then  she  gnashed  her  little 
teeth.  I  became  alarmed.  It  seemed 
as  if  no  language  would  occur  to  her 
mind  sufficiently  frightful  to  meet  the 
situation. 

I  felt  somehow  at  the  time  that  it 
was  not  a  propitious  moment  for  my 
proposal,  but  I  had  put  my  hand  to 
the  plough,  and  I  am  of  the  race  that, 
having  done  this,  never  lets  go. 

"  Joking  apart,"  I  said,  "  I  love  you, 
and  I  want  you  to  be  my  wife." 

There  was  a  long,  a  very  long  pause. 
You  could  have  beard  a  pin  drop.  (But 
I  have  observed  that  in  real  life  pins 
rarely  fall  at  such  times.) 

"  My  wife,"  I  repeated.  "  Think  of 
that." 

Suzanne  gazed  at  me  in  solemn 
silence.  She  was,  to  all  appearances, 
thinking  of  it.  Then  she  kissed  Fido. 

"  You  may  have  the  refusal  of 
me  for  seven  days,"  I  added.  "An 
option." 

She  re-seated  herself,  and  spoke  at 
last  with  great  deliberation. 

"  Marmadukeand  I,"  she  said,  "  take 


the  very  earliest  opportunity  of  declin- 
ing your  kind  offer." 

I  could  hardly  believe  my  ears.  A 
lifelong  confidence  in  those  features  was 
rudely  shaken. 

"  But  surely,"  I  cried,  "  surely  you 
love  me '!  " 

Suzanne  looked  mo  straight  in  the 
face,  with  an  expression  of  perfect 
candour  in  her  big  blue  eyes. 

"  Yes,  James,"  she  said,  "  I  do.  I 
will  not  conceal  the  fact.  I  love  you 
deeply." 

"  Then  why,"  I  exclaimed,  "  why 
this  diffidence?  It  is  due  to  some 
girlish  whim." 

"No,  James,"  she  replied,  "it  is  the 
mature  decision  of  a  woman  ripe  in 
years  and  wisdom." 

I  could  not  understand  her  attitude. 
It  is  a  matter  of  common  knowledge 
that  Suzanne  is  only  nineteen. 

"I  need  a  second  muffin,"  I  said. 
"This  xinlooked-for  development  finds 
me  unprepared." 

With  tears  in  her  eyes  she  handed 
me  the  muffin  dish. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  if  you  love  me  what 
is  the  impediment  to  our  marriage  ?  I 
know  of  no  family  feud.  Can  it  be 
Eugenics  ?  Is  it  that  I  am  a  confirmed 
muffin-eater?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  It  is  because  you  do  not  really  love 
me,"  she  said. 

I  gasped.  I  could  think  of  no  ade- 
quate reply.  I  had  so  obviously  been 
in  love  with  her  for  weeks. 

"  Will  you  kindly  explain  ?  "  I  said  at 
last  with  a  sort  of  calm  resignation. 

"  How  shall  I  begin  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Begin  with  a  few  introductory 
bars,"  I  said  patiently,  "and  then 
announce  the  principal  theme  con 
amore  on  the  wood-wind." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  you  know  the  old 
saw  or  adage  that  goes,  '  Love  me,  love 
my  dog '  ?  " 

I  felt  misgivings. 

"Yes.    Well?" 

"  Do  you  love  Marmaduke  ?  Assur- 
edly not.  Then  how  can  you  love  me  ?  " 

[  felt  competent  to  deal  with  the 
difficulty.  I  can  depart  from  the  truth 
as  gracefully  as  most  men  when  the 
occasion  demands  it. 

"  Indeed,"  I  said  impressively,  "  I 
have  the  greatest  affection  for  Fido." 

"  How  do  you  show  it  ?  You  come 
in  here  this  afternoon  and  greet  him 
with  a  heartless  prod.  You  wilfully 
mistake  him  for  a  pen-wiper.  Subse- 
quently you  propose  putting  him  away 
in  the  cupboard,  and,  worst  of  all,  you 
insist  on  calling  him  Fido  when  you 
know  his  name  is  Marmaduke." 

I  saw  that  the  evidence  was  strongly 
against  me.  I  tried  another  line  of 
defence. 


"  After  all,"  I  said,  "  what  are  pro- 
verbs? Wise  men  make  them  and 
F-F-Fido  repeats  them." 

Suzanne  raised  her  eyebrow's. 

"  Marmaduke,  I  presume  you  mean?  " 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened  and 
a  lady  visitor  came  in. 

"  Back  at  last,"  she  said ;  "  and  thanks 
so  much,  dear,  for  looking  after  my 
darling  pet." 

Suzanne  introduced  me. 

"  Is  that  your  dog?  "  I  asked.  "  Such 
a  nice  affectionate  little  thing.  And 
what  do  you  call  it  ?  " 

"Topsy." 

LOCAL   INFLUENCE. 
ENVIRONMENT,  not  man-made  laws, 
Is  Public  Virtue's  primal  cause. 
This  is  a  truth  we  may  apply 
To  London's  many  motor-bi. 

You  've  never  seen  the  virtuous 
Apparent  in  the  motor-bus? 

Then  go  to  Whitehall  and  behold 
The  monsters  being  as  good  as  gold, 

And  note  how  cautious,  quiet  and  slow 
A  nicely  mannered  bus  can  go ; 
Not  only  one,  but  one  and  all, 
It  is  a  sight  to  see  them  crawl — 
Bi,  which  in  any  other  place 
Go  at  a  most  appalling  pace. 

Why  is  it  then  that  Whitehall  should 
Inspire  the  bad  and  make  them  good  ? 

This  Whitehall,  which,  a  month  agone, 
Was  where  they  used  to  carry  on 

As  nowhere  else  ?     What  influence 
Promotes  this  new-born  innocence? 

Myself,  I  like  herein  to  see 
A  locus  pccnitentice. 

(Or,  spoken  in  the  modem  way, 
A  locus  'pcenitentice.) 

Let  not  the  cynic  say,  "  Mayhap, 
This  Whitehall  has  become  a  trap." 

Gems  of  Style. 

"Kings,  presidents  and  cabinets  are  but 
pawns  in  the  great  international  game  of 
bluff,  yet  the  winning  card  is  seldom  played." 
— "  The  Torn  Card."  by  William  le  Queux 
in  "  The  Story-Teller." 
Hitting  wildly  to  leg  at  a  fault  from 
his  adversary's  mashie  he  scored  a  well- 
deserved  goal. 

Our  South  American  Supplement. 

"  He  :  'I  wonder  how  it  is  a  girl  can't  catch 
a  ball  like  a  man.' 

She :  '  Oh,  a  man  is  so  much  bigger  and 
easier  to  catch.' 

The  fruit  trees  in  general  arc  similarly 
affected,  light  yields  being  the  rule.  The 
prices  are  well  sustained. 

A  heavy  fine  is  to  be  imposed  on  any  d<:- 
:aulter  to  the  agreement,  the  proceeds  of 
which  are  to  bo  given  to  the  fund  raised  on 
behalf  of  the  newspaper  vendors  in  this  city. 

The  list  of  prize-winners  was  as  follows : — " 
Buenos  Aires  Herald. 


JANUABY  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


53 


THE.     P»»LU    STOP. 


THE    LITTLE    BLACK    MARKS    THAT    MEAN    SO    MUCH. 


54 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  15,  1913. 


AFTER   THE   CHILDREN'S  WELFARE   EXHIBITION. 


"1   CAN     COKWALLY  RECOMMEND  THESE  "I'll     AFRAID,    SlB,     I     SHALL     HAVE    TO  "  YES,  FATHER,  THE  PAXTOMIME 'S  AMUS- 

CAKEB,  MlSS  GLADYS  J  THEY  ABE  HADE  WITH      LEAVE  YOUB  SCHOOL.      THE   SUBSOIL    I   FIND      ING  ENOUGH,  BUT  THIS  HEATED  ATMOSPHKim 
A  l.IBEBAL  PERCENTAGE  OV  ALBUMEN."  IB  CLAY — SO  CONDUCIVE  TO  BHEU31ATISM."  IS  NO  DOUBT  IMPREGNATED  WITH  BACTEUIA." 


THE   ROMANCE   OF  A   BILL   OF   COSTS. 

IT  has  lately  been  my  good  fortune  to  be  enabled  to 
study  an  old  bill  of  costs  sent  in  to  their  client  by  Messrs. 
Ginnyfee,  Hitter  and  Server,  formerly  (and  still,  for  aught 
I  know)  a  well-known  and  highly-respected  firm  of  solicitors. 
Set  out,  as  it  is,  in  the  unadorned  but  convincing  style  of 
a  lawyers'  document  it  has  a  certain  homely  eloquence  of  its 
own  and  reveals  qualities  which  have  made  some  English- 
men what  they  are. 

The  hero,  if  I  may  so  term  him,  of  the  story  appears  to 
have  leased  a  little  house  at  a  rent  which  he  cheerfully 
neglected  to  pay.  There  are  no  circumlocutions  about  the 
beginning  of  the  narrative,  no  investigations  into  obscure 
matters  of  heredity  and  early  history.  It  plunges  head-first 
into  the  thick  of  things  in  the  following  fashion : — 

"  18 — ,  July-August.  Costs  of  obtaining  judgment 
against  Mr.  T.  F.  Hartupp  for  possession  of  33,  Cul- 
verwell  Gardens  and  for  £70  5s.  Qd.  arrears  of  rent  due 
8th  July,  18 — ,  in  the  action  of  yourself  v.  Hartupp,  as 
assessed  against  Mr.  Hartupp  by  Master  Wackerley  on 
21st  August,  18—,  £8  10s." 

That  sounds  conclusive,  and  "  yourself "  no  doubt  thought 
that  the  matter  was  settled  and  his  cheque  in  the  post. 

The  resources  of  civilisation,  however,  were  far  from  being 
exhausted.  They  had  scarcely  been  tapped,  as  the  following 
items  show : — 

"  Upon  receipt  of  your  letter,  instructing  us  to  receive 
possession  if  no  payment  made  and  no  reasonable 
proposition  put  forward,  writing  acknowledging  same." 
"Attending  Mr.  Hartupp's  solicitor,  when  he  said  he 
expected  to  see  his  client  and  would  communicate 
with  us." 

"  Attending  him  later,  -when  he  asked  us  to  postpone 
appointment  to  4  P.M.  as  he  had  not  yet  seen 
Mr.  Hartupp." 

"  Attending  Mr.  Hartupp's  solicitor,  when  he  said  no 
proposal  could  be  made  at  present  and  possession  would 
be  given  up." 

This  again  has  all  the  outward  semblance  of  a  triumph — • 
but  where  was  the  money,  the  much-desired  but  elusive 
cheque  for  £70  5s.  Od.  and  costs  ? 

I  omit  some  trifling  matters  in  order  that  I  may  carry 
the  story  forward  swiftly  to  its  next  stage : — 

"Attending  Mr.  Hartupp's  solicitor,  informing  him 


that  we  should  proceed  to  enforce  judgment  unless 
matter  dealt  with  at  once." 

"Writing  him  to  same  effect  and  threatening  pro- 
ceedings in  Bankruptcy." 

With  the  mention  of  this  smashing  and  portentous  word 
Mr.  Hartupp  ought  to  have  been  defeated,  but  he  wasn't : — 
"Attending  by  appointment  to  serve  Mr.  Hartupp 
•with  Bankruptcy  Notice  at  his  solicitor's  office,  when 
he  did  not  attend;  but  his  solicitor  stated  he  would 
inform  him  that  unless  he  called  by  following  day  at 
12  o'clock  noon   we   should   apply  for  an  order  for 
substituted  service." 

"  Attending  to  serve  Bankruptcy  Notice  at  Mr. 
Hartupp's  solicitor's  office,  when  Mr.  Hartupp  did  not 
keep  appointment." 

The  business  now  lingered  about  the  purlieus  of  the 
Bankruptcy  Court  for  a  good  many  days.  Instructions  for 
the  petition  were  given,  it  was  drawn,  it  was  engrossed,  and 
there  was  an  item  of  one  shilling  "Paid  Parchment." 
During  all  this  time  Mr.  Hartupp  was  described  as  "keeping 
out  of  the  way."  This,  indeed,  seems  to  have  been  his 
favourite  fighting  method : — 

"  Upon  receipt  of  letter  from  Mr.  Hartupp's  solicitor 
that  he  had  asked  his  client  to  attend  at  his  offices  at 
12  o'clock  to  be  served,  attending  at  solicitor's  offices 
accordingly,  when  he  stated  that  his  client  had  not 
arrived  and  asked  us  to  call  again  at  2  o'clock." 

"  Attending  again  at  2  o'clock  to  serve  petition,  when 
Mr.  Hartupp  did  not  come." 

By  this  time  we  had  passed  from  July  into  December  and 
the  end  was  not  yet  in  sight.  There  were  again  dark  rumours 
of  what  is  called  "  substituted  service,"  on  the  ground  that 
Mr.  Hartupp  was  still  keeping  out  of  the  way  and  could  not 
be  served  personally.  A  "  joint  and  several  affidavit "  was 
drawn,  a  Commissioner  was  paid  the  paltry  sum  of  3s.  6d., 
and  a  shilling  was  charged  for  "  copy  order  for  sealing  to 
serve  folios  three."  Finally  Mr.  Hartupp  seems  to  have 
relented.  Feeling  that  he  had  done  enough  for  the  time,  he 
brings  his  wife  into  the  story : — 

"  Attending  Mr.  Hartupp's  solicitor,  when,  on  behalf 
of  Mrs.  Hartupp,  he  paid  £50  on  the  terms  of  our 
agreeing  to  the  dismissal  of  the  petition  against 
Mr.  Hartupp,  and  allowing  two  months'  further  time 
for  payment  of  balance  of  debt  and  costs." 
I  wonder  what  happened  when  the  two  months  were  up. 


JANUARY  15,  1913.1 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


<;.  i..  l-c. 


Archie  (meeting friend}.  " HULLO,  THOMPSON!" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  OWN  to  a  most  pleasant  feeling  of  friendliness  for  the 
stories  of  Mr.  THOMAS  COBB.  In  any  case,  his  latest, 
A  Marriage  of  Inconvenience  (MILLS  AND  BOON),  would 
have  enlisted  my  sympathies  by  its  attractive  title.  Those 
familiar  with  the  author's  methods  will  hardly  require  to 
be  told  what  it  is  all  about.  Nothing  really,  or  at  least 
nothing  that  mightn't  happen  to  any  of  us.  But  as  usual 
we  are  introduced  to  a  set  of  quite  delightful  people,  who 
sit  about  in  each  other's  houses  (and  they  all  live  in  the 
jolliest  parts  of  London)  and  discuss  their  slender  intrigues 
over  lunch  or  tea  in  a  manner  that  I  have  found  exceedingly 
agreeable.  I  fancy  that  Mr.  COBB  has  (if  I  may  put  it  so 
without  offence)  a  strong  feeling  for  the  place  that  food  fills 
in  social  intercourse.  I  hardly  remember  a  story  of  his  that 
has  not  a  meal  of  some  kind  in  almost  every  chapter.  And 
there  is  no  writer  who  is  more  generous  with  conversation ; 
so  much  so  that  now  and  again  I  have  not  been  able  to  resist 
the  suspicion  that  the  characters  were  chattering  less  to 
further  their  own  development  than  to  help  Mr.  COBB  to  fill 
out  another  novel.  Anyhow,  A  Marriage  of  Inconvenience 
is  just  as  pleasant  as  all  its  predecessors.  You  can  see  from 
the  name  that  she  marries  him  in  the  end ;  and  the  incon- 
venience of  the  match  (chiefly  objected  to  by  his  party 
because  her  mother  was  such  an  impossible  person  that  for 
a  long  time  I  thought  there  was  going  to  turn  out  to  be  no 
real  relationship  between  them)  seems  unlikely  to  be  very 
overwhelming.  Indeed  on  the  last  page  the  happy  pair  are 
left  with  both  a  luncheon  and  a  dinner-party  in  prospect. 
So  that's  all  right. 


I  am  in  a  position  now  to  understand  the  feelings  of  the 
Hired  Murderer  in  the  fairy  stories,  who  repents  at  the  last 
moment  and  refuses  to  slay  the  Child.  Ever  since  I  read  in 
a  daily  paper  one  of  the  silliest  column-articles  I  had  ever 
encountered,  I  had  been,  so  to  speak,  lying  in  wait  for  Mr. 
DION  CLAYTON  CAI/THROP.  I  said  to  myself :  "  Mark  me,  a 
time  will  come.  Some  day  I  shall  have  to  review  a  novel  by 
this  fellow.  Then  I  will  let  myself  go."  Sure  enough,  along 
came  St.  Quin  (ALSTON  EIVERS).  I  smiled  grimly,  reached 
down  my  club,  and  gave  it  a  twirl.  A  moment  later  it  had 
dropped  from  my  grasp,  and  I  was  wondering  how  I  could 
have  entertained  for  a  moment  the  idea  of  maltreating  this 
fascinating  little  stranger.  From  now  onward,  Mr.  CALTHROP 
has  my  permission  to  write  what  he  pleases  in  the  daily 
papers,  if  only  he  will  keep  his  novels  up  to  this  standard. 
In  St.  Quin  he  has  hit  on  a  fundamental  truth,  to  wit,  that 
the  great  majority  of  human  beings  are  struggling  all  their 
lives  to  keep  from  getting  fat.  To  some  of  us  bodily  fat  is 
the  bogey.  Edmund  St.  Quin  was  troubled  by  a  horror  of 
the  fatness  of  the  soul.  "  We  are  fat,"  he  says.  "  That  is 
it.  We  are  hideously  fat.  Wo  are  so  fat  that  we  cannot 
see  the  stars  or  the  daisies;  "  and  the  story  is  an  epic  of  his 
campaign  against  the  insidious  curse.  All  the  conditions 
are  against  him.  He  is  rich  ;  he  has  centuries  of  it-isn't-done 
traditions  to  prevent  his  taking  spiritual  Swedish  exercise? : 
a  thousand  forces  are  at  work  to  urge  him  to  lie  back  in  his 
arm-chair  and  put  his  feet  up.  But  his  love  of  Romance  is 
too  strong  for  all  of  them.  He  breaks  away,  and  finds  his 
salvation,  at  last,  in  company  with  the  wife  whom  he  has 
always  considered  a  very  queen  and  leader  of  the  it-isn't-done 
army,  but  who,  unknown  to  him,  has  all  the  time  been 
taking  soul-exercise  as  thoroughly  as  he  himself. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUAHY    15,    1913. 


Mrs.  ANDREW  Lvxu  has  ;ui  ingratiating  habit  of  assuming 
in  the  reader  all  manner  of  knowledge  which  it  is  quite 
possible  (and  in  one  case  quite  certain)  the  reader  does  not 
I.IK-ICSS.  There  is  indeed  about  Mm,  Women  and  Minxes 
(LONGMANS)  an  awesome  air  of  long  familiarity  with  odd 
volumes  and  MSS.  and  crumpled  faded  letters,  and  the 
pleasantly  discursive  papers  rango  from  "Pitfalls  for 
Collectors,"  the  most  engaging  summary  of  a  Frenchman's 
history  of  famous  fakes,  to  "  The  Fairchild  Family,"  an 
interest  in  which  not  even  the  author's  genial  desecration 
of  those  sad  old  bones  can  create  in  my  bored  and  stubborn 
breast.  I  liked  best  to  read  of  an  eighteenth-century 
Scotchwoman,  a  MUKE  of 
Ciildwell,  writing  of  an 
earlier  generation :  "  The 
booksellers'  shopes  were  not 
stuffed  as  they  now  are  with 
novels  and  magazines."  It 
is  indeed  because  of  the 
inordinate  increase  of  every 
sort  of  such  stuffing  that  a 
quiet,  pleasantly  learned  and 
leisurely  volume  like  Mrs. 
LvMi's  brings  such  relief. 
She  gossips  of  Madame  DF, 
GKNI.IS — "everyone  is  ac- 
quainted with  the  main  facts 
of  this  strange  woman's 
career " ;  of  PAUL  DE  ST. 
YICTOB  ;  of  Lady  LOUISA 
STUART,  granddaughter  of 
Lady  MABY  WOKTLKY  MON- 
TAGU ;  of  the  Buckingham- 
shire VERNEYS;  of  RICHARD- 
SON'S Pamela  and  Clarissa ; 
of  ROUSSEAU'S  Nouvcllc 
Helo'ise-;  of  DR  FRENILLY'S 
recollections  of  a  life  in 
troubled  times;  of  Scotch 
and  American  ladies  of  an 
earlier  day;  and  even,  by 
way  of  justifying  her  title, 
of  "French  and  English 
Minxes."  I  rise  from  the 
perusal  feeling,  for  the  mo- 
ment, gratifyingly  erudite 
and  old-fashioned,  and  can 
commend  the  experience. 


after  burning  down  the  castle,  like  the  ancient  Chinese 
when  they  wanted  bacon  for  breakfast,  that  Miss  RAMSAY 
is  able  to  bring  him  up  to  the  scratch  by  flinging  the  flapper 
into  his  arms.  I  need  hardly  say  that  in  the  end  she 
turned  out  to  be  anything  but  a  poor  relation,  though  how 
Miss  RAMSAY  manages  to  make  her  a  Dollar  Princess  I  will 
leave  the  reader  to  find  out  for  himself.  I  could  wish  that 
she  had  not  introduced  into  her  story  the  decadent  American 
youth  who  only  escaped  the  electric  chair  by  being  shut  up 
for  a  time  in  an  asylum.  Tho  type  doesn't  seem  to  me  to 
fit  in  with  the  kind  of  writing  in  which  she  excels — pleasant 


descriptions  of  the  hunting-field  with  a  seasoning  of  ordinary 
English  love-making. 


AT  THE  TATE  GALLEKY. 

Dutiful  NeplifW  (doing  the  sights  of  London  for  the  benefit  of  his  aunt 
from  the  country).  "Tnia    is   THE    FAMOUS   '  MISOTAUB"'    BY    WATTS. 

\YUAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OP  IT?" 

Aimt.  "WEr,r,,  IT'S  A  SBOBT-HORS;  WHATEVER  KLSK  IT  MAY  BE!" 


If  you  were  a  titled  and 
more  or  less  confirmed 
bachelor,  the  owner  of  three 
tumbledown  castles  and  a 
corresponding  number  of  hungry  acres  that  ate  up  all  the 
rents,  and  if  you  preferred  hunting  to  work,  what  would  you 
do  to  replenish  the  exchequer — your  own,  I  mean,  not  the 
CHANCELLOR'S  ?  The  friends  of  Lord  Peter,  the  hero  of  Miss 
R.  RAMSAY'S  book,  The  Impossible  She  (CONSTABLE),  thought 
that  he,  in  like  case,  ought  to  many  money,  and  with  that  end 
in  view  they  let  one  of  the  castles — useful  pieces  sometimes 
when  you  want  to  mate— to  a  beautiful  young  American 
heiress.  But,  though  she  put  hot-waterpipos  into  thedraughty 
old  rooms  and  passages,  neither  they,  nor  her  charms,  nor  her 
dollars  were  able  to  raise  the  temperature  of  Peter's  heart. 
He  left  her  at  home  with  the  cold  comfort  of  the  hot-water 
pipes  while  he  hunted  and  liulloed  and  had  many  a  rattling 
day  with  a  poor  relation  of  hers,  a  little  slip  of'a  girl  with 
her  hair  down  her  back,  who  know  how  to  ride.  And  even 
then,  for  Peter  was  a  backward  sort  of  a  lover,  it  is  only 


making. 

have  finished  The. 
Mystery  (HEINE- 
MANN)  with  tho  feeling  that 
my  leg  has  been  pulled. 
Readers'  legs  were  made,  no 
doubt,  for  that  purpose,  but 
I  think  that  mine  has  been 
rather  hardly  used  on  this 
occasion.  Here  is  a  regular, 
downright  murder  mystery, 
nerve-racking,  brain-twist- 
ing.disquieting  and  sooth  ing 
in  due  course,  but  to  the 
student  of  the  subtleties  of 
human  motives  neither  here 
nor  there ;  sufficient  maybe 
to  keep  him  out  of  bed  till 
ho  has  unravelled  the  last 
tangled  skein  and  brought 
the  villain  to  book,  but 
nevertheless  all  my  eye  and 
Betty  Martin.  The  villain 
and  his  puppets,  though 
they  work  harmoniously 
to  produce  a  plot  which, 
mechanically  speaking, 
leaves  nothing  to  be  desired, 
have  little  in  common  with 
tho  people  of  this  world. 
So  far  as  they  are  con- 
cerned, it  depends  on  the 
reader's  own  astuteness  and 
experience  of  six-shilling 
crime  and  intrigue  whether 
or  not  he  is  deceived.  But 
there  are  also  the  innocent 
blue-eyed  A  lice  Lancdcy  and 
Lorrie  Madesson.  Though 
tho  latter  is  a  glorious 
creature,  an  expert  hand  at  the  game  of  life,  and  worth 
a  dozen  of  Alice,  it  is  Alice  upon  whom  the  misunderstood 
hero  dotes  and  whom  the  villain  gets  into  his  clutches. 
At  the  end,  when  Alice  is  freed  from  her  engagement  to  the 
villain,  the  hero,  now  thoroughly  understood  and  appreciated 
as  such,  is  still  doting  upon  her.  Does  ho  then  marry  the 
girl  ?  or,  rather,  does  the  girl  many  him  ?  No ,  she  pulls 
my  leg  instead,  and  Lorrie  aids  and  abets.  I  am  taken 
entirely  by  surprise  when  two  human  beings  emerge  from 
this  atmosphere  of  unreality  and  do  two  very  human  things. 
To  K.  and  H.  HESKETH  PRICHARD  my  thanks  for  an  artful 
enough  melodrama  and  one  genuine  touch  of  life. 

"Tho   Peterborough   Isolation   Hospital  is  ng:iin  threatened  with 
complete  isolation." — Daily  Mirror. 

Well,  what  does  it  want? 


JANUARY  22,  I'Jl.'i.j 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


57 


CHARIVARIA. 

CKIITATN  politicians  arc  now  pulling 
forward  UK;  view  Unit  the  cracks  in 
Si.  Paul's  are  of  supernatural  origin, 
and  are  a  sign  that  tlio  English  Estab- 
lishment must  go  the  way  of  tlio  Welsh. 

:::      !: 
<: 

It  is  announced  that  Sir  VICTOR 
HOKSLKY,  having  been  adopted  as 
prospective  Liberal  Candidate  for  the 
Ifai -borough  division  of  Leicestershire, 
will  not  continue  to  nurse  North 
Islington.  If  the  latter  needs  further 
nursing  it  will  have  to  resort  to  one  of 
Mr.  GEORGE'S  panels. 
•:••  • 

Sir  GEORGE  ALEXANDER,  who  is 
shortly  to  appear  at  the  Palace  Theatre, 
has  announced  his  impending  retire- 
ment from  the  London  County  Council. 
Taken  in  conjunction  with  one  another, 
and  with  the  title  of  his  late  play,  The 
Turning  Point,  these  facts  seem  to 

have  a  painful  significance. 

. 

A  diphtheria  outbreak  at  one  of  the 
schools  at  Whitley  Bay  is  declared 
to  have  been  caused  by  the  children 
placing  pens  and  pencils  in  their 
mouths.  The  Little  Ones'  Own  Mutual 
Protection  Society  now  proposes  that 
all  holders  should  be  made  of  high-class 
sugar-stick.  „,  .,. 

*" 

The  suggestion  that  alcohol  shall  be 
used  instead  of  petrol  by  our  motor 
vehicles  lias  called  forth  an  angry 
protest  from  the  British  Topers'  Society 
against  what  is  referred  to  as  "  a  prosti- 
tution of  this  magnificent  spirit." 

Taking  up  her  berth  at  the  King's 
Arms  Quay  at  Salcombe,  Devon,  the 
Hull  schooner  Mary  forced  her  bow- 
sprit through  the  window  of  a  room 
in  Prospect  House  where  Mr.  G.  H. 
JONES  was  asleep.  \Ye  are  ashamed  of 
you,  Manj.  ...  ... 

We  understand  that  the  appoint- 
ment of  Sir  SYDNEY  OLIVIER  -  musician, 
dramatist,  poet  and  essayist — to  be 
Permanent  Secretary  to  the  Board  of 
Agriculture  is  partly  due  to  his  having 
written  a  capital  "  Ode  to  Spring," 
which  showed  no  litlle  knowledge  of 
weather  conditions. 
*  * 

•  Sir  JAMES  CAIUD  has  sent  the 
Council  of  the  Zoological  Society 
£1000  to  be  used  in  building  an  insect 
house.  This  is  good  news.  The 
existing  arrangement,  by  which  the 
monkeys  and  the  insects  are  kept  in 
the  same  building,  is  unsatisfactory. 

^"      -U 

<;  Mr.  PERCY  FmoEBAXiD,"  we  read, 
"has  offered  to  the  corporation  of 


Foreman  Builder.  "Now  TIIEX,  YOU; 
Labourer.  "Our,  BIGHT,  Boss;    HOME 
Foreman  Builder.  "No,  P'B'APB  NOT; 


HCRHY  UP,  CAS'T  YEB!" 
WASN'T  r.unvr  IN  A  DAT." 

BUT  I  WASH1!  FOBEKAH  O1   THAT  JOB.' 


Edinburgh  a  bronze  statue  of  THOMAS 
CARI.YLE."     To  judge  by   Mr.   FITZ- 
GERALD'S statue  of  Dr.  JOHNSON  in  the 
Strand,  Scotsmen,  if  they  accept  the 
offer,  will  find  that  GAHLYLE  is  not  so 
big  a  man  as  they  had  imagined. 
*  •-.'• 
& 

The  new  Divorce  Court  was  opened 
last  week,  and  it  is  anticipated  that 
this  handsome,  well-ventilated  building 
will  lead  to  a  large  accession  of 
business. 

"As  we  lie  .  .  .  in  our  comfortable  beds  .  .  . 
let  us  remember  with  admiration  tho  very 
ordinary  figure  of  the  common  seaman,  un- 
polished, coarse  in  language  and  in  habits 
.  .  .  who  knows  perhaps  better  than  any  other 
man  alive  how  to  go  to  certain  death  as  one 
of  the  usual  risks  of  his  avocation." 

Dublin  Daily  Express. 

After  a  certain  number  of  fatal  experi- 
ences, it  becomes  a  habit. 


"The  Little  Less  and  what  Worlds 

away!" 

The  following  footnote  is  appended  to 
a  feuilleton  appearing  in  Lc  Matin : — 

"  jr.  Iliggins,  directeur  d'une  society  par- 
isicnue,  nous  ayaut  demande  de  modifier  le 
noni  do  notro  mysttfrteux  hiros,  co  dornier 
s'appcllera  desonnais  Iggiiis." 

So  the  delicate  affair  arranges  itself, 
and  no  breath  lost.  They  manage 
these  things  better  in  France. 


Nautical  Note. 

"  O.  Noronha,  a  steward  on  the  P.  &  O. 
S.  Novur.i,  was  charged  with  having  rushed 
towards  the  third  officer,  John  W.  Bennett, 
whilst  tho  latter  was  on  duty,  and  bitten  the 
second  finger  of  his  left  hand  contrary  to  the 
Merchant  Shipping  Act." 

North  Cliinn  Daily  AVtct. 

The  Act  particularly  stipulates  that  it 
must  be  the  right  band. 


53 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI  [JANUARY  22.  1913. 


THE   BLACKLEG'S  CONVERSION. 

[A  few  minutes  with  tlie  Taxi-Drivers) 
THE  three  peaked-capped,  leather- 
jreeched,  black-legginged  gentlemen 
in  the  coffee  shop,  following  the  usual 
custom  of  improvidence  when  most 
providence  is  needed,  were  regaling 
themselves  with  unwonted  lavishness. 
Two  of  them,  moustached  and  upright, 
bore  rather  the  stamp  of  the  ex-soldier. 
The  other  was  of  the  "  droopy  "  order, 
with  weak,  indifferent  features  and  an 
expression  of  sullen  determination  upon 
them  which  contrasted  strangely  with 
the  care-free,  almost  debonair  attitude 
of  his  two  companions. 

"  Wot's  the  matter  wi'  you,  'Arry? 
You  got  a  face  like  a  church  door. 
Don't  you  like  restin'  ?  " 

The  speaker,  who  answered  to  the 
name  of  "  Nobby,"  was  wearing  a  little 
•white  badge  that  bore  the  mystic  words 
"  December  Clearance."  He  continued 
his  meal  without  any  apparent  anxiety 
to  have  his  question  answered. 

"  No,   I   don't,"  replied  the  droopy 
one,  "  and  I  ain't  doin'  it  much  longer." 
"What— goin'  back  to  navvyin'?" 
asked  No.  3. 

"  No,  goin'  back  to  drivin'.  I  've  'ad 
enough  of  strike  pay  when  there's 
money  to  be  made.  I'm  goin'  up  to 
the  garridge  to-morrow  mornin'  and  I'm 
goin'  to  take  a  car  out.  So  now  yer 
know." 

Two  knives  and  two  forks  were 
placed  deliberately  upon  two  tin  plates, 
and  four  disgusted  and  astonished  eyes 
were  levelled  at  the  budding  blackleg. 

"  'Ave  you  gone  up  the  pole,  or 
what?  "  asked  Nobby. 

"  What,  I  should  think.     You  can 
all  go  on  strike  till  the  cows  come  'ome 
but  I 'm  finished  :  you  don't  catch  me.' 
Nobby   was  very  calm.     "  Oh,"   he 
said,  "  well,  if  /  'appen  to  catch  you 
you'll  go  through  it,  don't  forget  that 
Do  you  think  it  '11  pay  you  to  make 
a  few  quid  now,  and  go  against  all  yer 
pals,  and  then  when  the  trouble's  settlec 
be  kicked  out  of  the  garridge?    Why 
if  you  were  'alf  a  man  .  .  .  ." 

In  the  midst  of  the  heated  words 
that  followed  a  mysterious  strangei 
in  a  greasy  frock-coat  and  a  top  ha 
that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  brushec 
with  a  fire  hose  in  full  play,  sat  himsel 
down  next  our  trio  and  ordered  hi 
sausage  and  mash. 

"'Go's  'is  nibs?"  asked  Nobby  c 
No.  3. 

"  I  dunno.  Looks  too  'appy  for  ; 
mute,  don't  'e  ?  Never  mind  abaht  'im 
We  got  to  persuade  this  'ere  blackleg.' 
"  'Ow  's  the  strike  goin',  mates  ?  ; 
asked  the  stranger  affably.  "Are  w 
down-'earted  ?  " 

"Oh,   no,    we     ain't    down-'earteci 


But  'ere,  what  would  you  think  of  a 
jloke  that  wanted  to  turn  it  up  as  soon 
,s  this,  eh?  " 

"Well,  I  should  think  'e  was  mis- 
guided," replied  the  stranger.  "  I  know 
K>raethink  abaht  your  troubles.  Do  I 
understand  it's  our  friend  'ere?  " 

Silence  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"My  lad" — the  stranger  addressed 
Arry  as  if  he  were  talking  to  his  son — 

you  think  again.      D'ye  know  that 

nothink   worth    'avin'    was    ever    got 

without  a  fight  ?     'Ow  dare  you  set  up 

four  puny  intelligence  against  that  o' 

housands  ?  " 

He  pushed  a  bit  nearer  and  thrust  his 
ace  closer  to  that  of  the  astonished 
ilackleg. 

"  Are  you  goin'  to  be  the  only  one  to 
ly  in  the  face  o '  this  chanst  what 's 
;iven  you  to  stand  up  for  yer  rights  ?  Do 
'ou  know  that  the  time  of  the  general 
,trike  is  close  at  'and?  Can't  you 
lymperthise  with  the  noble  spirit  that's 
spurrin'  your  mates  on  to  'old  out  till 
uhe  cupboard's  bare  ?  " 

"  Yus,  but— 

"  'Ave  you  sunk  so  low  that  you 
would  go  out  and  deliberally  take 
advantage  of  your  own  fellow-workers 
)y  pocketin'  the  money  what  they 
ought  to  'ave  only  won't  cos  o'  their 
principles  ?  " 

The  stranger  stopped  for  breath. 

Nobby  and  No.  3  at  once  took  up  the 
cudgels  that  the  stranger  had  moment- 
arily laid  down,  and  in  five  minutes  the 
convert  was  won. 

"Now  I  'ope  you  won't  never  think 
like  that  again,"  said  the  stranger 
earnestly,  and  very  well  pleased  with 
himself.  "  You  and  your  mates  is  out 
to  win.  Don't  forgit  that.  Well,  will 
you  'ave  a  cup  o'  corfee  with  me,  the 
three  of  yer  ?  We  'd  go  over  the  road 
and  'ave  a  pint  each,  but  I  'aven't  time 
just  now.  I've  got  to  be  movin'." 

With  a  lordly  "  take  it  out  o'  that " 
air,  he  threw  a  ten-shilling  piece  on  the 
table  to  pay  for  the  coffees  and  his  own 
meal,  and  then  rose  to  go. 

"  Well,  so  long,  boys,"  he  said,  anc 
shook  hands  with  all  three  quite 
effusively.  "  I  'm  glad  we  all  agree 
Go  in  and  win,  mates,  that's  what  1 
says.  Keep  on  strikin'  and  you'l: 
strike  oil.  Yus,  and  cheap  oil  at  that 
So  long.  Be  good." 

"  Ain't  a  bad  old  stick,"  said  No. 
when  the  stranger  had  departed. 

"'Oo  is  that  bloke?"  asked  Nobby 
of  the  waitress  who  happened  to  be 
passing  at  the  moment. 

"What!  'Im  with  the  tall  'at' 
Don't  you  know  'im?  That's  ol 
Charley  Barnes.  'E  drives  a  'anson 
cab.  Made  a  pot  o'  money  the  las 
week  or  two.  J  'm  thinkin'  o'  walkin 
out  with  'im." 


ENGLISH  BARDS  AND  AMERICAN 
REVIEWERS. 

IN  the  Lyric  Year:  a  Great  Sijm- 
'osium  of  Modern  American  Verse,,  a 
ninstrel  of  the  day  proclaims  the  right 
>f  independent  judgment  in  the  fol- 
owing  fearless  lines  : — • 

"  To   tell  the  truth  about  you,  Robert 

Browning, 

I  bring  no  wreath  of  laurels  for  your 
crowning." 

In  humble  imitation  of  this  isolated 
sffort   we   venture    to   submit    a    few 
urther  specimens  of  much-needed  pro- 
est  against  the  tyranny  of  Old- World 
conventions.     The  following  quatrain, 
nspired   by  a   perusal  of   Sir  EDWIN 
BURNING  -  LAWRENCE'S      illuminating 
)amphlet,  may  assist  BACON'S  greatest 
and  most  persistent  champion  in  his 
.oly  task  of  dethroning  the  Stratford 
mpostor: — 
"  I  pay  no  homage  to  the  SWAN  OF  AVON, 

A  bird  as  fabulous  as  Athene's  owl : 
I  put  my  money  on  POE'S  peerless  Haven, 
A  far  superior  fowl." 

The  popular  adulation  of  the  late 
Laureate,  again,  finds  a  salutary  cor- 
rective in  the  following  couplet : — 

Mark  well  my  words,  I  cannot  give  my 
beuison 

To  any  of  the  works  of  ALFRED  TENNYSON." 

Comparisons  are  to  be  deprecated  as 
a  rule,  but  they  are  occasionally  forced 
on  .us  by  a  regard  for  the  truth.  The 
claims  of  America's  greatest  poet  can 
oe  treated  in  no  other  way : — 

"  As  the  petulant  crowing  of  shrill  cocks 
Compares  with  the  lilt  of  the  thrush, 
So,  matched  with  the  magic  of  WiLCor, 
Old  SAPPHO  is  shown  to  be  slush." 

This  is  a  theme,  however,  that  invites 
further  variations : — 

Before  the  shrine  of  WILCOX  (ELLA. 
WHEELER) 

HOMEK,  were  he  alive,  would  be  a  kneeler ; 

And  ALEXANDER,  who  was  born  at  Pella, 

Would  yield  his  crown  to  WHEELER  WILCOX 
(ELLA)." 

But  other  Transatlantic   bards  and 
authors  must  not  be  forgotten  : — 
"  Great  VOLNEY  STREAMER,  of  Magnolia,  111., 

Plies  an  untiring  and  momentous  quill ; 

KEATS  was  a  trickling  rill,  a  puny  dreamer, 

But  VOLNEY  is  a  Mississippi  Streamer." 

"  The  soaring  muse  of  talented  BLISS  CARMAN 
Flics  higher  than  the  aeroplanes  of  FARM  AN." 

"  The  bays  that  formerly  old  DANTE  crowned 
Are  worn  to-day  by  EZRA  LOOMIS  POUND." 

"  HERODOTUS  was  prone  to  talky-talky ; 
Not  so  AUGUSTUS  KEELEB  of  Milwaukee." 

"  Why  prate  of  WALTER  SCOTT  and  LAMB  and 

SHELLEY, 

CARLYLE,  MACAULAY,  GROTE? 
You  have  no  names  likeRAi'HAELPuMPELLY, 
Or  AMOS  STOTE." 

"  Great  is  Apollo  when  his  lyre  he  twangs. 
But  greater  far  is  our  JOHN  KKNDRICK  BANGS, 
Who,  born  just  fifty  years  ago  at  Yonkers, 
4  Bangs  Bariagher  '  and  HUDYARD  KIPLING 
conquers." 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  22,  1913. 


THE    SCHOLAR-POACHER. 

[Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE,  whoso  interest  in  the  Land  Enquiry  is  well  known,  has  (according  to  Lord  HALDANK)  announced  his  intention 
throwing  himself  wholeheartedly  into  the  Government  scheme  of  National  Education.] 


JANUARY  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OH  TIIK  LONDON   CIIAIMVAIM. 


Cl 


Husband.  "On! 


THE    CIVIL    WAR. 

Doctor's  H'/Yc  (./''-/  relumed frum  visitiny).  "I  SAW  Dn.  BROWN'S  win-:  THIS  AITKIINOOX." 
DID  YOU  SI'KAK  TO  iiKit?"  Wife.  "No,  INDEED!    I  CUT  HKII.    SHI;  WAS  WKAKIXO  A, 


PAXKL"  SKliti.' 


HOW  TO  LOOK  ON. 

ONCK  and  for  all,  the  Public  must 
learn  that  it  is  to  be  seen  and  not 
heard.  Mr.  BERNARD  Snuv's  recent 
manifesto  to  theatre  audiences,  in  which 
he  asks  them  to  refrain  from  laughter 
and  applause,  has  already,  we  under- 
stand, done  much  to  mitigate  an  evil 
which  had  gone  far  in  the  direction  of 
turning  our  theatres  into  mere  resents 
for  recreation  and  amusement.  We 
should  like  to  see  more  self-restraint  on 
the  part  of  the  Little  Ones  at  Drury 
Lane,  but  that  too  will  come  in  time. 

It  is,  we  know,  often  contended  that 
expressions  of  approval  act  as  a  stimulus 
to  the  performer.  "It  bucks  him  up 
to  find  them  biting  back  a  hit,"  as  \ve 
have  heard.  But  surely  such  approval 
can  be  expressed  by  some  other  and 
better  means  than  mere  barbarous 
uproar?  We  ourselves  have  long  ago 
adopted  the  method  of  taking  occasion 
of  any  interval  that  may  occur  to 
approach  the  performer  and  convey  to 
him,  according  to  his  status  and  the 
nature  of  his  art,  our  gratitude  and 
appreciation  by  (1)  a  slap  on  the  back, 


(2)  a  warm  pressure  of  the  hand,  or  (3) 
a  dig  in  the  ribs. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  theatres  that  the 
Public  must  learn  to  observe  some 
measure  of  decorum.  The  time  is  ripe 
for  a  sweeping,  root-and-branch  reform 
in  the  matter. 

Thus,  the  custom  of  shouting  personal 
remarks  to  football  players  must  be  put 
a  stop  to.  It  is  exasperating,  to  say 
the  least,  for  those  of  us  who  have  paid 
our  money  with  the  object  of  witnessing 
a  keenly  contested  game,  to  have  to 
submit  to  repeated  interruptions,  as  is 
now  the  case,  while  one  player  or 
another  bows  his  acknowledgments  or 
replies  to  a  greeting  from  a  pal  in  the 
grand  stand. 

The  Cinema  Theatre  is  another  case 
in  point.  There  can  be  no  excuse 
whatever  for  the  whispered  comments, 
ejaculations  and  cat-calls  which  often 
punctuate  the  performance;  and  nothing 
could  be  more  detrimental  to  the  smooth 
running  of  a  film.  A  favourable  im- 
pression can  surely  be  conveyed  by 
other  means  than  these— as  for  instance 
iu  the  form  of  a  private  letter  of  eulogy 
addressed  to  the  manager. 


Again,  the  habit  of  snoring  in  church 
cannot  be  defended.  It  must  be  dis- 
tracting to  the  officiating  clergyman, 
who  is  not  improbably  doing  his  best. 

Even  at  political  meetings  one  can 
seldom  hear  a  pin  drop. 

And  emphatically  there  must  be  no 
more  "  laughter  in  court."     Our  magis- 
terial wits  must  make  up  their  minds 
to  forgo  this  temporary  recognition  and 
I  content    themselves    with    the     more 
!  lasting  satisfaction  to  be  obtained  from 
'appreciative    notices    (generally   ample 
in  scope)  in  the  Press  of  the  following 
day. 

••  Bauds  of  Turco- Albanians,  after  pillaging. 
M-I  lire  to  the  dwellings  and  varelmu-e-  of 
SiintiQuaranta,  a  small  seaport  of  Yanina.  .  .  . 
Tlir  IONSI-.  sustained  by  the  unfortunate  in- 
liabiiants  are  estimated  at  £"20,000.' 

(Other  1'eacc  News  on  Next' Page.)" 

KrcniiHj  Standard. 
"Other"  is  good. 


••  Ki-.uioe  will  have  another  President  before 
London  h:is  another  issue  of  Tlu  Obnerrer." 
The  Observer,  Jan.  U. 

But   the  latter  is,  of  course,  the  more 
intriguing  event. 


62 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY    22,    1913. 


THE    HUMAN    HANDICAP. 

"  FAR  be  it  from  me,"  said  the  mai 
with  the  onion — "far  he  it  from  me  t< 
decry  the  industry  for  which  the  ant 
the  bee  and  other  insects  and  birds  ar 
—justly  or  unjustly  —  famous,  but 
nevertheless,  1  am  reasonably  certaii 
that  these  little  creatures  are  no 
compelled  to — ah — dig  out  for  thei: 
living  to  anything  like  the  extent  to 
which  we — Mankind — are  compellec 
to — ah — dig  out ...  I  have  studied  the 
question.  ..." 

I  had  encountered  him  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  chalkpit  past  which  runs 
the  road  to  the  golf  links.  He  was 
operating  with  considerable  tlan  upon 
an  onion,  bread,  and  some  rather 
remarkable  cheese.  His  friendly  smile 
as  I  approached,  seemed  to  light  up 
the  whole  of  a  tolerably  spacious 
landscape,  and  I  liked  him  at  once, 
adventurer  fallen  on  evil  times  though 
all  the  visible  evidence  proclaimed  him. 

He  appeared  to  like  me  also,  for  he 
very  generously  offered  me  half  his 
onion  and  bread  and  cheese,  which,  in 
common  humanity  to  the  mixed 
foursome  to  which  I  was  proceeding,  I 
was  compelled  to  decline. 

He  had  made  a  few  casual  remarks 
on  industrial  unrest — very  restfully 
indeed — and  therefrom  had  passed  to  a 
brief  consideration  of  animal  and  insect 
labour. 

"  Man  digs  out  for  many  things, 
insects  for  one  only,"  he  said  thought- 
fully. "  I  have  been  watching  an  ant 
throughout  lunch  .  .  .  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  belittle  an  ant — but  we  cannot 
ignore  the  fact  that  this  little  crustacean 
works  only  for  food.  Food  only."  He 
took  a  bite  at  his  onion,  and  I  wondered 
vaguely  if  (like  the  "crustacean")  he 
had  worked  for  that. 

"  We — Mankind — on  the  other  hand, 
have  to  work  for  food  and  many  other 
things.  And  there  you  have  in  a 
nutshell  the  reason  why  birds,  insects, 
wild  animals  and  many  domestic  ones, 
including  fowls,  are  always  happy — 
given  good  health.  .  .  . 

"This  afternoon,  for  instance,  dull 
.hough  it  is,  the  air  is  full  of  the  songs 
of  the  birds.  But  I  hear  no  song  of 
man,  listen  where  I  will.  And  the 
•eason  ?  Man  has  something  else  to  do. 
Like  the  birds,  man  (generally  speaking) 
las  already  worked  long  enough  to-day 
.o  earn  his  food.  But,  unlike  the 
)irds,  he  has  not  finished — he  has  still 
o  put  in  enough  labour  to  pay  for,  say, 
a  pair  of  trousers  .  .  ."  He  ga/ed  ab- 
'•Mtly  at  the  tasselled  ends  of  his  own. 
Then  he  roused  himself. 

"  Clothes  generally,  that  is.  The 
rouble  is  that  clothes  don't  grow  on  a 
nan,  and  feathers  do  grow  on  birds," 


lie  said,  with  a  remote  irritation  in  hi 
voice.  "Think  that  over,"  he  ud<lc< 
"It  is  an  interesting  and  not  particu 
larly  pleasing  side  of  the  question.  .  . 
Ho  concluded  the  onion,  and  produce- 
a  packet  of  cigarette  papers  and  a  smal 
roll  of  brown  paper. 

"Birds  again  have  not  to  put  in  t 
part  of  every  working  day  in  order  t< 
provide  themselves  with   tobacco,"  h 
said    with    a    melancholy    smile,    "  o 
substitutes   for   tobacco."      He   begai 
reluctantly  to  pick  off   shreds  of   thi 
brown  paper.     I  did  not  realize  at  firs 
that  he  intended  to  smoke  the  shreds 
when  he  had  unravelled  them,  and  i 
was  not  until  he  placed  the  stuff  in 
position  on  the  cigarette  paper  that  '. 
apologised  and  offered  him  my  cigarette 
:ase. 

"  Try  tobacco,"  I  said,  rather  fool 
ishly. 

"  Thank  you,  I  will,"  he  replied 
wanly,  and  cleared  the  case.  Holdinf 
;he  cigarettes  tightly  in  the  warm- 
ooking  hand  which  had  gripped  the 
>niun,  lie  smiled  at  me. 

"Some  men  would,"  he  said,  almost 
jlay  fully,  "take  the  lot,  I  mean  .  .  .  . 
Never  present  your  case  to  a  tramp,  my 
friend  .  .  .  ."  He  sighed  and  offered 
ne  the  handful  of  cigarettes.  "  My 
oke,"  he  said ;  "  I  only  require  one." 

But   somehow   I   felt   as   though 

should  not  care  to  smoke  that  afternoon, 

,nd   so   I   presented   them  all  to  the 

Irifter. 

"Very  well — if  it  is  your  wish,"  lie 
>aid,  and  concealed  them  deftly  in  his 
ags.  He  was  the  raggedest  drifter  I 
lave  yet  encountered.  "  To  return  to 
mr  subject.  Animals,  then,  triumph 
iver  us  in  the  matter  of  procuring 
lothes.  They  get  a  suit  for  nothing. 
And,  equally,  they  triumph  in  the 
natter  of  wear.  Compare  the  lasting 
ualities  of  an  average  coat  with  the 
eathers  of  a  bird,  the  shell  of  an  ant, 
>r  the  hair  of  a  rabbit.  We  have 
onstantly  to  be  renewing  our  clothes ! 
Theirs  are  everlasting.  You  see  where 
we  are  at  a  disadvantage  ? 
"Now  as  regards  rents  and  rates, 
.very  living  thing  but  man  is  a  born 
milder.  Some  build  nests,  some  bore 
loles,  some  use  hives,  and  nocturnal 
nimals,  such  as  bats,  are  furnished  with 
looks  on  their  elbows  to  hang  them- 
elves  up  with  when  they  have  finished 
•ut-of-doors.  But — and  here  is  "the 
teak  point — only  about  one  man  in  a 
housand  can  build  a  house  for  himself, 
nd  so  we  have  to  waste  another  part 
f  our  working  day  in  providing  for  the 
ost  of  the  builders'  output — time,  re- 
lemher,  which  the  bird  sets  aside  for 
ong.  You  will  see  already  why  man 
nisi  work  so  long  and  ceaselessly  .  . 
hy  the  song  of  man  is  not  often  heard 


in  the  land.     Speaking  for  myself,   I 
never  sing.  .  .  . 

"  Then — and  this  is  .almost  the  las 
straw — there  are  our  luxuries  to  earn 
Birds  and  things  do  not  use  luxuries 
But  we  have  made  life  a  mad  anc 
frenzied  struggle  in  pursuit  of  luxury- 
Motors,  hothouse  peaches,  Havanas 
venison  and  champagne — we  must  ant 
ic ill  have  them  !  "  His  eyes  began  to 
sparkle  and  he  shook  his  touslec 
whiskers  in  the  wind,  tossing  his  heac 
like  an  old  war-horse  who  hears  afar  ofi 
the  strident  blaring  of  bugles.  He  wa 
using  capitals  now  and  a  font  of  larger 
type.  "  Fur-coats,  Cognac,  Lobster 
Salad,  Asparagus  and  Oysters !  "  He 
passed  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his 
mouth  and  began  carefully  to  pack  up 
the  relics  of  his  lunch.  "Turkish 
Coffee,  Yachts,  Pdtc-de-foie-gras, 
Salmon  Trout,  and  Derby  Winners — 
ha  !  really  it  makes  one  wonder  whether 
the  birds  have  got  the  laugh  of  us  after 
all!  Luxuries!  But  expensive  ones! 
Caviare  and  Diamonds,  Egyptian  Cigar- 
ettes and  Polo — no  wonder  the  birds  sit 
upon  boughs  and  sing.  They  could 
sit  there  and  shout  hurray  if  they  only 
<new  the  price  of  luxuries,  the  toil  and 
worry  it  takes  to  pay  for  them. 

"Finally — I  do  not  say  this  in  any 
pirit  of  jealousy,  but  as  a  matter  of 
simple  fact — there  is  existent  a  danger- 
ous habit  of  viewing  the  methods   of 
)irds  and  things  too  indulgently."     A 
•eal  indignation  manifested  itself  now 
n  his  voice  as  in  his  gestures.     "  For 
nstance,    all    birds    are    thieves — en- 
couraged   and    protected    by    Act    of 
r'arliament.     My  friend,  I  assure  you 
hat  I  have  seen  a  blackbird  flap  into  a 
jherry-tree,  and  steal  half  a  peck  of  fruit, 
and  spoil  another  half-peck.      Was  she 
hot  at?     No.     Not  even  scared  out  of 
t.     People  don't  seem  to  care.     '  Oh, 
t's  the  birds,'  they  say  simply.     But  I 
ut  it  to  you  that  if  /had  flapped  up  to 
hat    cherry  -  tree   and   started   eating 
ruit.  .  .  ." 

He  ceased  abruptly  with  a  dry  gulp, 
ose  and  slowly  gathered  his  goods 
ogether,  his  eyes  wandering  across  the 
'owns  along  the  road  to  the  workhouse. 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  belittle  the 
irds,  to  decry  the  industry  of  the  ant," 
e  repeated,  "but  .  .  .  think  over  what 
have  said.  .  .  ." 

We  moved  along  the  road  to  the  foot 
f  the  downs. 

"  It 's  a  big  subject,"  he  concluded, 
hsently.  "Almost  as  big  as  astro- 
omy  ;  "  and  so  drifted  leisurely  away. 


Pro  Merito. 

"  An  experienced  gentleman  desires  engage- 
.ent  as  assistant  in  an  olriee  or  position  of 
ust,  would  accept  small  retribution." 

Advt.  in  "  Egyjilian  Mail." 


JANUARY  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OK  TIIK   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


G3 


—  AT:  SMITH — . 


The  Knight  of  the  Wliile  Elephant  (to  damsel  he  is  rescuing).  "  LOOK  AT  TIIAT;  I  *M  TorpiNO  AM,  MT  SHOTS  TO-DAY.     THAT  coiras 

OP  HAVING   A  LESSON  FBOH  THE  PROFESSION  At." 


A  CHOSEN   SAINT. 
(St.  Tobias  and  the  Angel  Rafael, 

National  Gallery.) 
SAINTS  live  in  paint 

Within  Trafalgar  Square ; 
The  nicest  Saint 

Of  any  of  them  there, 
Most  radiant  and  most  rare. 
Is  no  austere  ELIAS, 

All  steadfastness  and  care, 
But  little  ST.  TOBIAS— 
A  youth  of  joyant  nir  1 

Mark  what  befell 

Upon  a  pearl- winged  prime : — 
Great  RAFAEL, 

Though  Heaven's  harps  did 
chime 

A  rhapsody  sublime, 
Forsook  the  choir  most  pious 

By  vale  arid  hill  to  climb 
With  little  ST.  TOBIAS 

All  in  the  summer-time  ! 

They  walked  along 

Till  meads  wore  dark  with  dew ; 
The  lark's  high  song, 

The  speedwell's  lowly  blue 

Made  music  for  the  two  ; 
No  questions  that  defy  us, 

Nor  problems  we  pursue, 
I  think  that  day  TOBIAS 

Or  e'en  the  Angel  knew  ! 


Deep  glowing  still 

The  pigments  do  portray 
River  and  hill, 

And  those  who  passed  that  day 

So  gracious  and  so  gay. 
Lest  sterner  saints  decry  us, 

Now  grant  it  that  we  may 
Have  little  ST.  TOBIAS 

About  us  on  the  way  i 


More  Sex  Problems, 
i. 

'  •  The  Metropolitan  at  once  secured  an  aver- 
age daily  traffic  of  between  35,000  and  40,000 
persona,  and  on  the  groat  day  of  the  entry  into 
London  of  Queen  Alexandra,  who  was  then 
Prince  o!  Wales,  the  number  rose  to  GO.OOO." 
Dundee  Telegraph  and  Post. 
u. 

"W.  Dixie  (late  Miss  Martin),  Church 
Street,  Atherstone,  begs  to  inform  the  in- 
habitants of  Atherstone  and  District  that  he 
has  taken  the  above  premises  for  motor  and 
cycle  repairs." — The  Atherstone  Newt. 


"Sermons  in  Stones P" 
"  Signal  service  is  being  done  by  the  Bishop 
of  St.  David's,  who  last  night  spoke  in  Flint." 
Jitnhj  Telfyraph. 


The  Manchester  Guardian  refers  to 
the  POSTMASTER  -  GENERAL  as  Dr. 
HERBERT  SAMUEL.  It  looks  as  if  the 
Government  recruiters  had  got  him  for 
the  Panels. 


ARE  WE  TOO  BUSY  TO  THINK? 

THERE  is,  wo  believe,  a  "  symposium  " 
on  the  above  subject  going  on  in  one  of 
our  contemporaries,  but  that  is  no 
reason  why  people  should  send  their 
opinions  to  us. 

Mr.  ASQUITH,  the  well-known  Premier 
and  strenuous  coalitionist,  goes  straight 
to  the  heart  of  the  question :  "  Yes,  I 
don't  think,"  he  writes ;  adding,  "  RED- 
MOND does  it  for  me." 

Mr.  CHUBCHIU,,  the  eminent  naval 
specialist,  writes  with  the  knowledge 
that  comes  only  from  long  intercourse 
with  pathological  cases :  "  Thinking  is 
merely  a  matter  of  concentration.  Some 
have  got  the  power,  some  have  not.  I,  for 
one,  even  with  the  whole  weight  of  the 
Admiralty  (including  all  the  Sea  Lords) 
on  my  shoulders,  am  never  too  busy  to 
think  or  I  wouldn't  be  where  I  am. 
Before  I  get  up  to  speak  I  think  what 
I  am  going  to  say ;  when  I  'm  speaking 
I  think  of  what  I  'm  saying ;  and  when 
I  sit  down  I  think  a  lot  of  what  I  've 
said." 

Mr.  G.  K.  CHESTERTON,  the  trenchant 
casuist  and  the  greatest  authority  on 
"What's  Wrong  with  the  World," 
writes:  "  The  reason  why  we  're  all  too 
busy  to  think  is  that  we  're  all  too  busy 
thinking." 


64 


PUNCH,  OE  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  22,  1913. 


Would  it 
"  Yes,  it 


"PER   PRO." 

"  How,"  said  Francesca,  "  would  you  answer  this  man '?  " 

"  There  are,"  I  said,  "  a  thousand  ways,  all  equally  good, 
of  answering  him.  There  is  the  familiar  way  ;  there  is  the 
haughty  third-person  way,  which  involves  a  presentation  of 
compliments  and  a  tangled  web  of  pronouns ;  there  is  the 
stern  curt  business  way ;  there  is — 

"  I  did  not  ask,"  she  said,  "  for  a  complete  essay  on 
correspondence.  I  wanted  to  know  how  to  answer  this 
particular  man." 

"  Quite  so,"  I  said ;  "  I  was  coining  to  that, 
not  be  well  to  let  me  see  his  letter  first  ?  " 

"  There  may  be  something  in  that,"  she  said. 
is  a  good  idea. "    And  she  handed 
me  the  letter,  which  I  read. 

"  The  case,"  I  said,  "  presents 
no  difficulty.  This  man  says  he 
understands  that  you  take  an 
interest  in  beautiful  furs.  He 
solicits  the  honour  of  being 
allowed  to  show  you  a  unique 
consignment  just  received  from 
Hudson's  Bay.  He  declares  that 
special  circumstances  enable  him 
to  offer  them  at  an  extraordin- 
arily cheap  rate  for  cash ;  and 
he  adds  that,  unless  you  come 
to  a  quick  decision,  the  furs  will 
be  snapped  up  and  you  will  lose 
the  chance  of  a  lifetime.  He 
signs  himself, '  Hammelstein  and 
Ladenberger,  per  pro.  A.  F.,'  and 
he  writes  from  an  address  in 
Clerkenwell." 

"  The  rapidity  with  which  you 
have  mastered  the  contents," 
she  said,  "  is  amazing.  But  tell 
me,  what  does  'per  pro.  "mean?" 

"  It  is,"  I  said,  "  a  Latin 
expression." 

"  But  do  you  think  that 
Hammelstein  and  Ladenberger 
are  Latin  scholars?  And  why 
should  they  throw  their  silly 
Latin  at  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  just  possible,"  I  said, 
"that  both  Hammelstein  and 
Ladenberger  toy  with  Latin 
verse  in  their  leisure  moments. 
Perhaps  they  are  devoted  to  the  Classics.  At  the  same  time 
it  would  be  rash  to  infer  too  much  from  a  mere  '  per  pro.'  " 

"It  would  be  rash,"  said  Francesca,  "to  infer  too  much 
from  anything ;  but  you  haven't  told  me  what  it  means." 

Francesca,"  I  said,  "I  will  not  deceive  you.  Your 
dreams  of  a  classical  firm  of  furriers  are  not  warranted  by 
this  letter.  '  Per  pro.'  means  that  Hammelstein  and  Laden- 
berger have  not  written  this  letter  themselves.  They  have 
delegated  the  duty.  They  have,  as  it  were,  given  a  power 
of  attorney  to  A.  F.  They  have  made  A.  F.  their  proctor. 
Francesca,  they  have  put  you  off  witli  a  clerk.  Yes,  he  is 
probably  a  clerk  and  much  underpaid." 

"  But  how,"  she  said,  "  does  an  underpaid  clerk   know 

at  I  am  interested  in  beautiful  furs?  " 


IP  OOLFEBS'  KNICKERBOCKERS  BECOME  MUCH  MORE  VOLUMIN- 
OUS WE  WOULD  SUGGEST  THAT  THEY  SHOULD  BE  PUT  TO  8DCH 
A  USE  AS  TO  MERIT  THE  KAME  OP  OOLF-BAGS. 


"  But  why,"  she  said,  "  give  them  a  date  ?  I  never  worry 
about  dating  ordinary  letters  and  they  seem  to  get  there 
all  right." 

"  It  is  always  done  in  business  circles,"  I  said,  "  but,  of 
course,  women  are  not  brought  up  with  business  habits. 
They  do  not  understand  banking-accounts  or  pass-books  or. 
book-keeping  by  double  entry." 

"  And  all  these  matters,"  she  said,  "  are  perfectly  under- 
stood by  Hammelstein  and  Ladenberger  and  by  you.  We 
are,  no  doubt,  an  inferior  sex,  and  we  mostly  date  our  letters 
'  Wed.'  or  '  Sat.'  Let  us  date  this  one  '  Wed.'  " 

"  We  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  I  said.  "  We  will  date 
it  in  full,  '  Wednesday,  Jan.  15,  1913.'  Now  for  the  body 
of  the  letter.  Francesca,  we  will  be  calm  and  sarcastic. 
—  How  will  this  do  ?  "  I  read  it 
out  as  I  wrote  it  down  : — • 

"  '  Mrs.  Carlyon  presents  her 
compliments  to  Messrs.  Ham- 
melstein and  Ladenberger — 

" ' Per  pro.  A.  F.,'"  said  Fran- 
cesca. "  You  must  put  that  in. 
It  sounds  so  cutting." 

"  '  — to  Messrs.  Hammelstein 
and  Ladenberger,  per  pro.  A.  F., 
and  fails  to  understand  why 
they  have  understood — 

"  That  doesn't  sound  quite 
right,"  she  said. 

"I  will  continue,"  I  said,  "as 
if  you  had  not  interrupted  me'; 
— '  and  fails  to  gather' — remem- 
ber that  word,  my  dear — '  why 
or  from  whom  they  have  under- 
stood that  she  is  interested  in 
beautiful  furs.' " 

"  But  I  am,"  she  said.  "I'm 
simply  frightfully  interested  in 
them.  It 's  no  use  pretending 
I  'm  not." 

"  No  one,"  I  said, "  is  expected 
to  be  absolutely  truthful  in  the 
third  person.  Besides,  I  haven't 
said  you're  not  interested  in 
them.  Let  me  go  on : — '  Mrs. 
Carlyon  regrets  that  she  is 
unable  to  afford  Messrs.  H.  and 

L. ' " 

"  Sarcasm,  again,"  said  Fran- 
cesca.   "  The  initials  are  deadly." 
"  ' — to  afford  Messrs.  H.  and 


that 


"  There  are  mysteries  in  Clerkenwell,"  I  said,  "  that  we 
cannot  attempt  to  fathom  ;  but  we  can,  at  any  rate,  draft  an 
answer  to  this  letter.  Come,  Francesca,  we  will  tackle 
them  in  the  third  person,  and  first  we  will  date  our  reply 
Write  down  '  Jan.  15,  1913.'  " 


L.  the  opportunity  of  showing  her  the  consignment  of  furs 
they  have  lately  received  from  Hudson's  Bay.'  What  do 
you  think  of  that,  Francesca?  " 

"  I  think  I  know  a  better  way  of  answering,"  she  said. 

"What's  that?" 

"  I  shan't  answer  them  at  all." 


E.  C.  L. 


Victims  of  Machinery. 

Chorus  of  retired  cab-horses,  on  reading  advertisement 
of  a  "  Mechanical  Chauffeur  "  :  "  Ha !  ha !  Eevenged ! " 

"The  question  of  a  remedy  is,  of  course,  a  national  one,  but 
Manchester,  as  the  chief  sufferer  in  the  country  from  air  pollution, 
has  a  right  to  squeak  first."— Daily  Mail. 
What  Manchester  squeaks  to-day,  &c. 


' '  The  bride  going  away  in  a  coat  and  skirt  of  Wedgwood-blue  ratine, 
with  chiffon  bodice  to  match,  and  a  black  velvet  hat  trimmed  with 
mole  feathers." — The  Lady. 

The  mole  in  question  was  one  of  a  covey  which  had  been 
shot  by  the  bride's  father. 


JANUAHY  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


65 


Guttersnipe  (after  dashing  into  t)ie  darkness  to  get  a  cab).  '"ERE  x'  ABE,  Sin  I     'AIN'T  NO  TAXIS;   KEBS  ALL  GONE;  WON'T  GET 

NOTHINK  ELSE  TO-NIOHT,   Sin!  " 


THE  CHARM  AND  WONDER 
OF  IT  ALL. 

(Contributed.) 

I  HAVE  done  a  bit  of  shopping  in 
my  time,  but  never  under  such  perfect 
conditions.  My  first  surprise  was  when 
a  commissionaire  on  the  pavement 
opened  the  door  of  my  cab  and  spread 
an  umbrella  for  me ;  my  second,  the 
attentions  of  a  polite  gentleman  in  a 
well-fitting  frock-coat  who  met  me  just 
inside  and  inquired  with  the  utmost 
solicitude  as  to  my  wishes.  This,  I 
said  to  myself,  is  not  only  business  but 
pleasure.  Having  told  him  what  I 
wanted,  I  followed  his  directions  and 
made  my  way  to  the  required  depart- 
ment, passing  in  route  crowds  of  happy 
traffickers,  each  of  whom  carried  a  little 
parcel  which,  from  the  expression  of 
their  faces,  had  obviously  cost  only 
half  as  much  as  in  any  other  shop  and 
was  twice  as  good.  For  these  articles 
money  had  been  paid  and  receipts  given, 
the  establishment  being  a  model  not 
only  of  excellence  and  despatch,  but,  ulso 
of  organization.  As  a  lady  near  mo 
remarked  to  her  astonished  companion, 
"  It 's  just  as  I  told  you,  dear,  you  get 
a  receipt  for  everything  !  " 

Meanwhile    on    all    sides    the    civil 


salesmen  and  saleswomen — for  in  this 
marvellous  place  both  sexes  are  em- 
ployed and,  I  am  convinced,  work 
amicably  together  —  were  displaying 
goods  on  wooden  counters  made  ex- 
pressly for  that  purpose  and  kept  spot- 
lessly clean,  and  were  doing  it  with 
such  ingratiating  tact  that  life-long 
friendships  with  customers  were  being 
formed.  As  another  lady  near  me  re- 
marked, "  Now  you  see  what  I  said : 
the  assistants  serve  the  customers  here." 
Passing  on  in  a  very  dream  of  rapture, 
I  came  at  last  to  the  room  where  my 
own  modest  needs  were  to  be  supplied 
and  where  naturally  my  critical  sense 
would  be  most  exercised.  My  every 
hope,  I  say  at  once,  was  more  than 
fulfilled.  The  articles  I  wanted  were 
either  in  stock  or  would  be  procured ; 
the  assistant  treated  me  with  respect, 
possibly  even  admiration ;  my  money 
was  instantly  accepted ;  my  receipt  was 
in  order;  in  short,  I  was  in  a  com- 
mercial paradise  and  knew  it.  A  little 
scrap  of  conversation  which  I  over- 
heard at  this  time  fortified  my  own 
opinion.  "  Whatever  they  haven't  got," 
said  a  lady  to  her  friend,  "  they  always 
promise  to  get ;  "  and  her  friend's  ex- 
pression of  bewilderment,  gratitude  and 
joy  will  not  soon  fade  from  my  memory. 


And  so  I  came  away  from  this  fairy 
palace,  a  little  piqued,  possibly,  at  not 
leceiving  a  parting  gift  of  a  five-pound 
note,  but  otherwise  in  a  glow  of  enthu- 
siasm for  everything  connected  with 
the  place  and  its  superb  and  startling 
efficiency. 

N.B.— The  foregoing  article  is  at  the 
disposal  of  any  firm  that  sees  profit  in 
it.  Prices  on  application. 


"  Mr.  Asquith  quoted  with  impressive 
effect  the  famous  lines  (sic)  of  Virgil : 

'  Tantiir  molis  erat 
Romanam  condcre  gcntcm.' " 
"  H.  J."  in  "  The  Daily  Chronicle." 

We  notice,  by  the  way,  that  this 
couplet  does  not  rhyme.  The  P.  if.  G. 
however  makes  a  more  interesting  ob- 
servation on  the  passage.  "  He  bravely 
quoted,"  it  says,  "  a  Virginian  tag 
which  even  his  Minister  of  Education 
may  have  recognised." 

Mr.  ASQUITH  (bravely).   As   one   of 
the  old  poets  of  Virginia  has  it,  Sir  : 

"  Shine,  shine,  moon, 
While  I  danco  with  Dinah  dear." 

Mr.  PEASE  (with  a  sigh  of  relief) 
Ah!    that's    all    right.      Thought    it 
was  going  to  be  one  of  those  Roman 
johnnies. 


G6 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHAR1VAIU. 


[JANUARY  22,  1913. 


large  (disturbed  by  the  motion  of  the  cart).  "Tui  THE  BRAKE  ON,  Missus."  Mrs.  Jarge.  "I 'YE  COT  us  OJT,  JAKGU." 

Jarge.  "WuLL,  DAMMY!  TAKE  ON  oirl    I  KNEW  'TWEBE  BUMMAT!" 


THE    MORNING    AFTER. 

NAY,  mother,  nay.     Though  I  be  weak  and  wan, 

Fetch  not  the  doctor,  mother,  I  beseech  ; 
It  is  but  megrims — it  will  pass  anon ; 
Oh !  mother,  not  the  leech. 

Mother,  I  fear  the  man.     He  is  not  fair, 
lie  does  not  come  to  pity  or  condole, 
But  to  unclothe  my  being  and  lay  bare 
My  frail  and  fluttering  soul. 

And  he  is  cruel.     At  his  questioning 

My  very  secret  tongue  must  I  obtrude ; 
He  does  not  weep  to  see  the  piteous  thing ; 
It  only  makes  him  rude. 

Nay,  more.     With  icy  skill  he  drags  to  light 

Those  very  details  that  the  coy  would  shrink 
From  deeply  probing :  how  I  spent  last  night ; 
My  food;  alas,  my  drink  ; 

Whither  I  fared,  and  when  regained  my  concli, 

And  other  troths  that  are  not  his  to  seek  ; 
For  some,  indeed,  I  could  not  wholly  vouch  ; 
Of  others,  would  not  speak. 

So  he  goes,  primed ;   and,  knowing  that  I  ail, 
(  (Coward !)  he  sends— oh,  mother,  this  to  me — 
Some  draught  enough  to  make  a  strong  man  pale, 
For  which  he  asks  a  fee. 

Then,  mother,  though  my  tortures  cut  like  knives, 

Though  all  my  molten  cockles  be  in  flames, 
Call  not  the  cunning  man — if  he  arrives, 
It  is  all  up  with  James. 


But,  if  'twill  solace  your  maternal  mind, 

Seek  now  the  chymist — there  is  one  that  hangs 
Out  by  the  corner — he,  no  doubt,  will  find 
Some  easement  of  my  pangs. 

He  has  great  store  of  simples,  low  in  price, 

Comely  and  void  of  taste  and  prompt  to  heal 
To  swallow,  with  a  little  water,  thrice, 
One  after  every  meal. 

Be  his  the  choice.     And,  ere  the  day  go  by, 

We  will  remit  these  humours  and  this  pain ; 
But  let  not  the  physician  come  to  pry 

Till  I  am  well  again.  DuM-Di  M. 

"  Ho  [Mr.  Forbes-Robertson]  came  to  the  couplet  :— 
'  Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  Forbes !  ' 

But  in  thinking  of  his  brother,  perhaps  in  connection  with  the  cast  of 
a  play  he  was  shortly  to  produce,  he  rendered  it  thus : 
'  Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 

And  simple  faith  than  Norman  Forbes  ! '  " 
Interview  ivith  Sir  John  Hare  in  "  Toronto  Star  WeeUij." 

On  the  whole  and  after  due  consideration  we  prefer  the 
second  version. 

"I  left  Whitehaven  by  the  8.30  rain  in  the  morning,  intending  to 
go  to  Barrow.  After  leaving  Ravenglass  the  train  ran  into  a  heavy 
snow-drift.  The  driver,  the  sokor,  and  the  guards  tried  their  utmost 
to  proceed,  but  so  deep  was  the  snow  that  the  task  proved  an  imposMliU' 
one." — Interview  in  "  Daily  News  and  Leader." 

And  the  stoker  had  to  go  without  his  T. 

Commercial  Candour. 

"  Gentleman's  best  boxcalf  boots,  just  made,  unworn,  uncomfortable, 
small  sevens,  15/6."— Ttazaar,  Kxchanye  and  Marl. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE   LONDON  CHARIVART.-jAxrAHY  22,   1913. 


NOT    LOST,    BUT    LEFT    BEHIND. 

(By  request  of  the  Shifts  Crew.) 


JANUARY  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI." 


69 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(KXT1IM   I  l:n  l-'ROM  THE  DlARY  OP  TOBY,  M.P.) 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  Januni-t/ 
13. — Fog  outside ;  fog  inside ;  plenty 
of  room  for  it  here.  As  it  broods 
over  half-empty  benches  one  seems  tu 
recognise  a  coronetted  head 
surest ivo  of  House  of  Lords 
taking  look  round,  preliminary 
to  making  quick  end  of  a 
ire  that  lias  occupied  full 
forty  days  of  labour  in  the 
Commons. 

Fee,  fi,  fo,  him. 

]  smrllthebloodofaiiKnglishman," 

was  the  remark,  clear  in  drift 
if  faulty  in  rhyme,  of  an  ogre 
familiar  in  childhood.  Fee,  fi, 
fo,  fum.  House  of  Lords  smells 
the  blood  of  another  Home  Rule 
Bill  and  means  to  drink  every 
drop  of  it. 

The  SPEAKER,  looking  up  after 
Questions  were  over,  very  nearly 
varied  long  career  of  correctitude 
by  a  curious  blunder.  Catching 
sight  of  humanised  figure  of  the 
Fog  standing  at  the  Bar,  and 
thinking  it  was  a  newly-elected 
Member,  he  was  about  to  say, "  Members 
desiring  to  take  their  seats  will  please 
come  to  the  Table."  Just  in  time  realised 
actual  situation.  Adroitly  coughed  by 
way  of  intimating  that  so  far  from 
having  intended  to  make  a  remark  it  was 
only  the  Fog  that  had  got  into  his  throat. 

Weird  effect  increased  by  glimpses 
caught  in  Gallery  facing  SPEAKER'S 
Chair  of  faces  apparently  bodyless. 
These  were  the  strangers 
peering  through  the  Fog  won- 
dering what  had  become  of  His 
Majesty's  Ministers.  With  the 
exception  of  two  they  were  cer- 
tainly not  in  their  places  when 
Questions  were  called  on.  As 
for  Front  Opposition  Bench,  it 
was,  save  for  the  Fog,  tenantless. 
Later,  when  House  resumed 
consideration  of  Home  Rule 
Bill  on  Report  Stage,  BONNER 
LAW  turned  up  and,  as  ever, 
obedient  to  call  of  duty,  con- 
tributed a  speech  criticising 
Clause  40. 

Straightway  had  occasion  to 
wish  he  had  been  altogether  lost 
in  the  Fog  on  his  way  down. 
MASON  (of  Coventry),  following 
him,  administered  castigation  so 
vigorous  that  as  he  spoke  the 
Kog  in  his  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood judiciously  cleared 
away,  leaving  him  standing  out 
as  it  were  in  a  halo  of  light. 

"The    LEADER   OP   THK  OP- 


in   general    or    this    Clause    in    parti- 


cular. 


The  right  honourable  gen- 


tleman has  attended  several  debates, 
but  evidently  has  not  profited  by  listen- 
ing to  them,  or  he  would  not  have 


made  so  foolish  a  speech." 


reassured  Fog  again  closing  in,  he 
declared,  "The  LEADER  OK  THE  OPPO- 
SITION has  said  nothing  with  which  I 
do  not  agree." 


Burst    of    hilarious    cheering    from 
Ministerial   Benches   testified   that   in 

'Puerile,"  "childish, ""absurd,"  were  spite  of  appearances  the  occupants  are 

not  wholly  unsympathetic  with 
lofty  sentiment  and  chivalrous 
impulse. 

Business  done. — Eighth  day 
allotted  to  debate  on  Report 
Stage  of  Home  Rule  Bill  fol- 
lowing on  twenty-seven  days  in 
Committee.  House  rapidly  ap- 
proaching state  of  coma.  On 
stroke  of  midnight,  Ministerial- 
ists roused  themselves  to  pitch 
of  hearty  cheer  when  Report 
Stage  was  brought  to  conclusion. 
Tuesday.—  Home  Rule  Bill 
awaiting  Third  Reading,  Welsh 
Church  Bill  gets  a  look  in. 
Welsh  Bill  and  Irish  Bill  re- 
semble each  other  inasmuch  as 
mere  mention  ofOrderof  the  Day 
is  signal  for  stampede.  When, 
immediately  after  Questions,  the 
first  Order  is  read  by  Clerk  at 
Table  —  to  -  day,  for  example, 
"  Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill; 
Committee" — it  behoves  the  Sergeant- 
at-Arms  to  advance  to  Table  and  re- 


Foo  IN  THE  HOUSE. 


other  descriptive  epithets   applied   to 
the  discourse. 

Incident  evoked  one  of  those  out- 
bursts of  self-sacrificing  loyalty  that 
from  time  to  time  ennoble  Parliamentary 
debate.  From  corner  seat  behind  Front 
Opposition  Bench  GILBERT  PARKER 
listened  with  anguished  feelings  to  this 
attack  on  his  esteemed  LEADER.  Rising 
when  MASON  resumed  his  seat,  the 


POSITION,"    he  said,   "does   not   which  I  do  not  agree. 


•OUTBURST  OP  SELF-SACRIFICING  LOYALTY." 
The  LEADER  OP  THE  OPPOSITION  has  said  nothing  with 


appear  to  understand  the  Bill 


(Sir  GILBERT  PARKER.) 


move  the  Mace,  which  lies  upon  it 
only  when,  with  SPEAKER  in  Chair, 
House  is  in  full  session.  Of  late  this 
has  become  a  practice  as  perilous  as 
crossing  Trafalgar  Square  at  high-tide 
of  traffic.  Stream  of  Members  hurrying 
out  threatens  to  catch  up  Sergeant-at- 
Arms  and  carry  him  forth  on 
crest  of  wave.  Only  natural 
grace  and  long  -  trained  habit 
enable  Sir  DAVID  ERSKINE  to 
stem  the  current  with  dignity, 
not  to  speak  of  personal  safety. 
Those  who  remain  to  carry  on 
debate  make  up  in  vigour  of 
speech  for  lack  of  numbers. 
Considering  we  are  talking  about 
a  venerated  Church,  with  its  re- 
tinue of  bishops,  rectors,  vicars, 
and  all  that,  not  forgetting  the 
charwoman,  our  language  is 
occasionally  awful. 

Charwoman,  probably  en- 
gaged elsewhere,  turned  up 
quite  late  in  sitting.  Was 
armed  in  by  JONES  of  Merthyr- 
Tydvil.  Question  arose  on  pro- 
posal to  compensate  lay  patrons 
and  lay  holders  of  freehold 
offices  in  the  Church.  It  was 
here  that  EDGAR  JONES  drama- 
tically appeared  on  scene  with 
simpering  charwoman  on  his 
arm.  If  compensation  was  go- 
ing round  she,  he  insisted,  had 
as  much  right  to  it  as  had  the 


70 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  22,  1913. 


rector,  and  if  she  got  it  in  common  with 
the  rest  "practically  every  penny  the 
Bill  proposed  to  take  away  would  get 
back  into  the  pockets  of  the  Church." 

Here  broke  forth  flood  of  vituperation 
before  which  even  the  charwoman 
winced.  Earlier  in  sitting,  LORD  BOB, 
who  is  thoroughly  enjoying  himself, 
described  UNDER  SECRETARY  FOR  HOME 
OFFICE  as  "the  villain  in  a  melodrama." 
COUSIN  HUGH,  not  to  be  out  of  it,  de- 
clared "the  Government  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  putting  words  into  a  clause 
with  a  view  to  secure  by  law  that 
injustice  should  be  accomplished."  As  j 
to  EDGAR  JONES  and  the  charwoman, ! 
CRIPPS,  fresh  from  the  cooler  Court  of 
Arbitration,  telephoned  the  assertion 
that  "  Welsh  Members  approach  the 
Bill  with  sole  desire  to  see  what  plun- 
der they  can  get."  Tout  le  MONO 
(ALFRED)  venturing  to  do  a  few  sums  on 
an  imaginary  blackboard,  LYTTELTON 
scornfully  alluded  to  "  his  more  malig- 
nant associates,"  rude  reference  that 
caused  BRYNMOR  JONES  to  blush  to  the 
roots  of  his  hair. 

Unkindest,  least  deserved  cut  of  all 
was  slashed  at  the  MAD  HATTER. 
GouLDiNG  moved  closure.  The  MAD 
HATTER,  at  the  moment  seated  in  deep 
thought,  stirred  himself  and  said, "  After 
the  smashing  speeches  delivered  on  this 
side  the  only  Member  who  ventures  to 
rise  from  opposite  benches  wants  to 
have  the  Question  now  put.  There  is 
nothing  more  to  be  said." 

Metaphorically  wrapping  his  blanket 
about  him,  after  fashion  of  the  Red 
Indian  whose  customary  formula  for 
bringing  his  remarks  to  a  finale — "Top- 
of-the-River  has  spoken  " — he  para- 
phrased, he  resumed  his  seat.  And 
what  does  the  British  public  think  was 
the  response  this  dignified  interposition 
met  with  ? 

"  Go  on,  Harlequin,"  one,  happily 
anonymous,  cried  from  Opposition 
Benches.  Harlequin,  quotha ! 

Cry  taken  up  in  various  quarters. 
MAD  HATTER  rose  again  ;  greeted  with 
roar  of  contumely;  above  it,  clarion- 
tongued,  rang  his  voice :  "  On  a  point 
of  order,  Sir." 

Just  on  stroke  of  half  -  past  ten, 
whilst  Opposition  roared  and  MAD 
HATTER,  during  momentary  pauses, 
shouted  "  On  a  point  of  order,"  blade 
of  guillotine  fell.  Division  took  place ; 
Charwoman  Amendment  defeated  by 
•291  to  179. 

Business  done. — Getting  on  nicely 
with  Welsh  Disestablishment  Bill. 

Thursday. — Home  Rule  Bill  read  a 
third  time.  It  is  now  on  the  knees  of 
the  Lords. 

Most  interesting  episode  in  two 
nights'  not  oppressively  brilliant  debate 
was  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S  dilemma  in  the 


opening  passage  of  speech  moving  re- 
jection of  the  Bill. 

"  The  whole  course  of  our  proceedings 
reminds  me,"  he  said,  "  of  those  old  I 
comedies  of  intrigue  in  which  the  chief 
schemer  goes  to  each  one  of  the  sub- 
ordinate characters  in  turn,  and,  giving 
a  different  version  of  his  object,  induces 
them  by  separate  methods  to  carry  put 
his  policy  and  finally  loaves  them  all 
dupes." 

Hereupon,  ripple  of  cachinnalion 
rising  from  Treasury  Bench  swelled 
into  roar  of  laughter  and  ironical 
applause.  PBINCE  ARTHUR  stood  a 
moment  in  silent  amazement.  Turning 
round,  he  asked  BONNEH  LAW  what  it 
meant.  BOXNER  sagely  shook  his  head. 


"  Armed  in  by  JONES  of  Merthyr-Tydvil." 

"  I  thought,"  said  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 
when  uproar  had  subsided,  "  I  was  not 
usually  slow  in  detecting  what  the 
House  expresses  in  the  least  articulate 
fashion.  But  honestly  I  do  not  know- 
on  this  occasion  how  I  have  earned  the 
warm  approval  of  so  many  gentlemen 
on  both  sides  by  the  same  observation." 

Here  there  was  fresh  outburst  of 
genial  laughter. 

"  None  but  he,"  said  the  MEMBER 
FOR  SARK,  looking  admiringly  at  his  old 
favourite,  "  a  master  of  phrases,  could 
with  equal  brevity,  more  accuracy,  and 
fuller  measure  of  the  picturesque,  have 
described  his  own  position  when,  ten 
years  ago,  he,  being  Premier,  was 
manoeuvring  round  Tariff  Reform." 

Business  done. — Home  Rule  Bill  read 
a  third  time  by  367  votes  against  257. 


Asking  for  it. 

'•While  a  party  were  returning  by  motorcar 
from  Onich  to  J''ort  William,  the  car  skidded 
rar  Deorriwhoarochan." — The  Kcntkman. 


THE    RED    HEADS. 

A  GREAT  meeting  was  held  in  the 
Scarlet  Town  Hall,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  Rufus  League,  on  Friday  last, 
to  discuss  the  alleged  decrease  in  the 
numbers  of  red-headed  people  and  to 
devise  means  to  defeat  it.  •  The  Rufus 
League,  we  may  add,  was  originally 
founded  by  the  Norman  king  of  that 
name,  and  has  always  consisted  of 
twenty-two  members,  who  are  known 
familiarly  as  the  Twenty-two  Carrots. 

The  Chair  was  taken  by  the  Presi- 
dent, Sir  RUFUS  ISAACS,  who,  in 
accordance  with  the  rules,  opened  the 
proceedings  by  singing  "  O  Ruddier 
than  the  Cherry,"  tlio  anthem  of  the 
League.  He  then  called  on  the  Sec- 
retary, the  Right  Hon.  Lord  Justice 
Cherry — to  whom  we  believe  HANDF.L 
dedicated  the  song  in  question — to 
read  the  letters  from  various  members 
and  sympathisers  who  were  xinable  to 
attend.  Foremost  amongst  them  was 
a  spirited  contribution  from  Mr.  RUDDY 
KIPLING,  two  lines  of  which  we  are 
allowed  to  reproduce  by  kind  permission 
of  his  publishers: — 

"  Never  the  dingo  dozes,  never  the  bulrushes 

shoot 

But  a  red-polled  son  of  England  starts  out 
on  the  All-Red  route." 

The  POET  LAUREATE  in  a  remarkable 
letter  pointed  out  that  GOLDSMITH 
began  one  of  his  most  famous  poems 
with  the  words  "  Sweet  Auburn." 

Mr.  HALL  CAINE,  who  enclosed  a 
photograph  of  himself  taken  by  the 
new  chrono-chrome  process,  wrote  that, 
if  he  might  be  permitted  to  jest  on  such 
a  subject,  nothing  was  red  about  BACON 
except  his  works,  while  SHAKSPEARE, 
like  BAYARD  and  Another  who  should 
be  nameless,  favoured  in  his  clievclurc 
the  hue  immortalized  in  the  portraits 
of  TITIAN. 

Dr.  C.  W.  SALEEBY,  the  famous 
Professor  of  Eugenics,  sent  a  brief  but 
momentous  memorandum  on  the  best 
means  of  fostering  the  red  corpuscles 
which  conduce  to  the  pigmentation  of 
the  capillary  follicles.  In  his  opinion 
this  could  be  best  arrived  at  by  a  diet 
of  tomatoes,  ginger  and  beetroot, 
washed  down  by  liberal  potations  of 
Bui'gundy,  Barolo  and  Chianti. 

Sir  RUFUS  ISAACS,  who  was  much 
moved  during  the  reading  of  the  last 
letter,  then  addressed  the  meeting.  He 
began  by  reminding  them  that  his  own 
presence  there  in  such  an  exalted 
position  was  due  rather  to  his  name 
than  his  mane.  He  then  went  on  to 
enumerate  the  losses  which  England 
would  suffer  if  this  picturesque  feature 
of  her  rural  and  civic  life  were  allowed 
to  die  out.  A  red-haired  man,  wherever 
j  seen,  never  failed  to  bring  into  the 


JANUARY  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CIIAKIVART. 


71 


Man  in  Second  Row.  "THE  LADY  SEEMS  TO  PLEASE  YOU?" 
Man  in  Front  Row.  "THE  ACCOMPAMST  PLEASES  ME,   SIB. 

WOODEN  LEO  IS  WONDERFUL." 


TlIE    IOSE    HE    GETS    Oil    OF    I1IAI    'CELLO    FOB    1    MAS    WITH    A 


prospect  that  warm  touch  which  artists 
j  as  different  as  COROT  and  LANDBEEB 
so  esteemed;  while  a  red-haired  girl, 
wherever  seen,  was  like  a  glint  of  gold. 
(Loud  cheers.)  Were  they  to  dis- 
appear, what  would  become  of  that 
curious  enactment  of  nature  which 
provided  that  whenever  one  met  a  red- 
haired  girl  one  could  see  at  the  same 
time  a  white  horso?  Scientists'  had 
for  centuries  puzzled  their  brains  to 
explain  why  this  was,  but  in  vain. 
Yet  the  strange  fact  remained.  As  to 
what  were  the  causes  of  the  decrease 
in  red  hair  no  one  could  rightly  say. 
Many  Unionists  believed  that  the 
Government  at  large,  and  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE  in  particular,  had  discouraged 
it,  and  were  to  be  blamed  in  the  matter. 
But  when  they  remembered  that  Mr. 
LLOYD  GEORGE  was  named  after  DAVID, 
the  ruddy  antagonist  of  the  Philistines, 
they  could  hardly  accept  this  view. 
He  himself  saw  some  hope  for  the 
future  from  Canada,  in  view  of  the 
notoriously  red  hair  of  General  WOLFE. 
(Cheers.)  Whatever  they  did,  they 


must  not  lose  hope.  He  himself,  as' 
a  member  of  the  most  optimistic 
Cabinet  of  recent  times,  would  never 
do  so.  (Eenewed  cheers.) 

Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW,  who  apologised 
for  being  not  so  fiery  as  he  once  was, 
the  alloy  of  old  age  having  dimmed 
his  furnace — in  other  words,  grey  hair 
having  supervened — then  spoke.  He 
said  that  as  a  descendant  of  OWEN  ROE 
O'NEILL  and  a  sympathiser  with  the 
Bed  Hand  of  Ulster,  though  at  the  same 
time  a  fervent  supporter  of  maintaining 
the  Green  above  the  Bed,  he  fully  ap- 
proved of  the  aims  and  objects  of  the 
League.  He  called  upon  his  twenty-one 
fellow  Carrots  to  pledge  themselves  to 
do  everything  in  their  power  to  impress 
upon  Society  the  merits  of  ruddiness. 
He  himself  was  writing  a  play  to  that 
end.  (Cheers.)  With  Dr.  SALEEBY'S 
excellent  programme  he  found  himself 
in  agreement,  except  as  regarded  the 
beverages.  For  the  wines  named  he 
would  suggest  substituting  ginger  ale 
— (marked  depression)  and  red  ink — 
(groans).  Only  on  those  conditions 


could  he  retain  his  membership. 
(Uproar,  during  which  the  meeting  re- 
solved itself  into  a  free  fight,  everybody 
seeing  red.) 

The  Cannibals. 

"  Tha  restaurant  was  also  doing  a  large 
business,  many  dinner  parties  being  held  to 
partake  of  the  special  men  which  had  been 
provided." — Bombay  Gazette, 

A  correspondent,  whose  heart  is  in 
the  right  place,  complains  of  the  way 
in  which  her  letters  have  been  treated 
in  the  pillar-boxes.  They  come  to  her, 
she  says,  "  smeared  all  over  with 
suffragetted  hydrogen." 

"  The  offertory  box  inside  the  church  porch, 
at  St.  Paul's  Church,  Fairhaven.  was  broken 
open  between  Monday  at  noon  and  yesterday. 

If  yon  want  a  flno  dramatic  treat,  go  and 
sen  'The  Thief  at  the  Pier  Pavilion  to- 
night."— Lytham  Standard. 

"  In  connection  with  a  possible  association 
of  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  and  the  late 
Samuel  Coleridge  Taylor,  it  is  seated  that 
such  is  not  the  case." — Musical  Nf.rg. 
So  now  we  can  all  breathe  again. 


72 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY   22,   1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  GET-KiCH-QuicK  WALLINOFOUD." 

IN  iny  anxiety  to  be  a  true  admirer 
of  America  and  her  genius,  I  would 
give  a  lot  to  know  that  the  plays  which 
she  is  now  sending  us  were  composed 
exclusively  for  our  market,  just  to  see 
to  what  lengths  the  dull  Britisher  would 
let  his  silly  leg  be  pulled  before  he 
found  out.  But  unhappily  all  these 
dramas  come  trailing  clouds  of  glory 
accumulated  in  the  course  of  prodigious 
careers  on  the  other  side ;  and  this 
means,  if  it  means  anything,  that  the 
samples  which  they  give  us  of  vulgar 
roguery  on  the  one  hand  and  stupid 
cupidity  on  the  other  have  been  warmly 
acknowledged  by  the  American  public 
as  representative  of  typical  features  in 
the  national  character.  I  cannot  bear 
to  believe  this,  and  yet  I  may  not  do 
our  friends  the  effrontery  of  disputing 
their  opinion  of  themselves  as  reflected 
in  their  own  mirror  of  life. 

This  opinion  was  further  endorsed 
by  the  U.S.A.  colony  in  London,  who 
figured  in  great  force  on  the  first  night. 
All  the  humours  of  Mr.  COHAN'S  play 
were  received  by  them  with  a  very  loud 
enthusiasm,  in  which  I  could  seldom 
join,  though  I  must  have  seen  some  of 
the  points.  Every  American  present 
seemed  to  have  a  financial  interest  in 
the  enterprise,  or  at  least  to  regard  the 
national  honour  as  being  staked  on  its 
success. 

One  thing  I  am  thankful  for:  we  need 
never  again  worry  about  an  enigma  that 
must  often  have  troubled  the  thinking 
mind — how  it  is  that  in  America,  where 


J.  nufit.i  Wallingford  (Mr.  HALK  HAMILTON) 
to  Horace  Daw  (Mr.  JUMAN  ROYCK).  "  Why 
don't  you  get  a  smile  like  mine?  It  comes 
off  every  time." 


everybody  is  so  smart,  there  is  so  much 
money  to  be  made  and  so  quickly.  How 
can  they  even  make  a  living  by  taking 
one  another  in?  Well,  I  gather  from 
Beady  Money  —  and  the  revelation  is 
supported  by  Gct-Rich-Quicli  Walling- 
ford — that  our  minds  had  been  abused; 
that  we  were  wrong  in  imagining  that 
all  Americans  are  smart.  It  seems  that 
the  mugs  over  there  enjoy  a  numerical 
superiority  of  at  least  ten  to  one. 

It  was  a  flaw  in  the  new  play  that 
its  mugs  were  such  "  easy  fruit."  The 
leading  rogue  never  found  an  opponent 
worthy  of  his  steel.  In  Beady  Money 
it  was  a  square  fight  all  through — 
diamond  cut  diamond — with  the  detec- 
tive force.  Here  the  only  trouble,  and 
soon  settled,  was  with  a  pretty  typing- 
girl. 

I  see  in  a  brochure  published  by  the 
Management  that  the  play  "  points 
that  excellent  moral,  '  Honesty  is  the 
best  policy.' "  Let  me,  as  a  moralist, 
warn  the  British  public  against  this 
misleading  statement.  It  so  happens 
that  a  stroke  of  fortune  gives  a  crown 
of  unpremeditated  honesty,  in  a  techni- 
cal sense,  to  a  scheme  conceived  and 
executed  in  a  spirit  of  the  purest  fraud. 
These  rogues  do  ill  by  stealth  and  wake 
to  find  it  fame.  It  was  no  fault  of 
theirs. 

Let  me  also  warn  this  same  innocent 
public  against  their  persuasive  charm. 
Mr.  HALE  HAMILTON,  with  that  in- 
sinuating voice  and  accent  and  smile 
of  his,  was  irresistible  for  his  victims  on 
both  sides  of  the  footlights.  There  is 
something  almost  Greek  in  his  catholic 
feeling  for  the  joy  of  life.  Our  British 
stage-villains — burglars  always  ex- 
cepted — are  not  built  that  way.  They 
take  their  vices,  as  the  virtuous  take 
their  pleasures,  with  a  spice  of  sadness. 
And  this,  of  course,  is  morally  sound. 

But,  put  your  morality  aside  as  you 
enter — there  are  cloak-rooms  provided 
in  all  modern  play-houses  —  and  you 
will  get  a  lot  of  simple  fun  out  of 
Wallingford.  But  you  must  not  mind 
the  noise  and  rush ;  the  constant  in- 
cursions, at  full  speed,  of  negligible 
people  all  busy  in  establishing  an 
atmosphere  of  American  hustle;  or 
the  endless  introductions  of  one  unim- 
portant person  to  another  which  con- 
stitute the  dominant  feature  of  the  last 
Act.  And  your  sophisticated  minds 
must  bear  with  the  simple  irony,  mildly 
Sophoclean,  by  which  the  villains 
offer  to  take  the  audience  into  their 
confidence. 

And  at  the  end,  if  you  have  not 
laughed  quite  as  freely  as  you  were  told 
you  were  going  to,  do  not  cast  doubt 
on  the  American  sense  of  humour,  but 
put  the  trouble  down  to  your  British 
lack  of  it.  This  is  the  true  hospitality. 


"  BILLY'S  FORTUNE." 

The  maker  of  Billy's  Fortune — I 
refer  to  his  adoptive  father,  and  not 
to  Mr.  EOY  HORNIMAN — was  never  seen 
by  us,  for  he  was  a  corpse  before  the 
curtain  rose ;  but  if  his  last  will  and 
testament  revealed  the  man  he  rmist 
have  been  something  of  a  humorist. 
For  in  the  first  place  he  disappointed 
his  relations  of  the  bulk  of  his  fortune, 
leaving  it  to  Billy,  a  "pauper  brat"; 


BEAR-BAITING. 

Mr.  Bradley  (Mr.  E.  M.  ROBSON)  tries  to 
conciliate  Billy  (Master  JOHNNIE  BEOWN)  with 
a  present  for  a  good  boy. 

and,  secondly,  he  bequeathed  £100,000 
to  whichever  family  Billy  should  elect 
to  make  his  home  with,  after  a  three 
months'  test  of  each.  Though  ignorant 
of  this  condition,  Billy  at  once  recog- 
nises that  he  is  meant  to  be  spoiled, 
and  lends  every  possible  assistance  to 
that  end.  Six  months  have  elapsed 
and  we  see  him  in  the  hands  of  No.  3 
of  the  spoilers.  He  has  developed  into 
a  sort  of  "  Buster  Brown,"  and  has  the 
whole  menage  under  his  little  heel ; 
his  wildest  freaks  of  behaviour  being 
tolerated,  since  correction  is  unthink- 
able if  his  hosts  are  to  secure  a 
favourable  report.  What  with  loss  of 
self-respect,  and  mutual  suspicion  as 
between  the  competitors,  it  is  a  sad 
revelation  of  some  of  the  most  de- 
plorable aspects  of  human  nature. 

This  kind  of  thing  is  only  possible 
on  the  stage  if  it  goes  without  a 
check  to  the  laughter ;  and,  to  be 
frank,  the  Second  Act  had  its  intervals 
of  repose.  But  there  were  hilarious 
moments,  as  when  the  entire  household 
paraded,  as  a  military  band,  in  various 
sketchy  uniforms,  under  the  dragooning 
of  the  Napoleonic  infant. 

In  the  Third  Act  we  find  Billy  trans- 
ferred to  the  care  of  an  ideally  happy 
young  couple.  They,  too,  would  be 
glad  to  touch  the  money,  but  are  not 
going  to  sacrifice  their  own  souls — or 
Billy's — in  the  process.  Accordingly, 
on  the  very  first  evening  (Christmas 


JANUARY  22,  11)13.1 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


73 


'Arry.  "THANK  'KAVEN  FOB  THESE  EABS;  I  ONLY  WISH  THEY  WAS  "onNs!" 


Day,  too)  the  rod  comes  out,  and  the 
spoiling  of  the  child  is  over  for  ever. 
By  10  P.M.  he  is  one  of  the  family, 
sitting  in  pyjamas  round  the  fire  and 
listening  contentedly  to  a  fairy-tale,  a 
thing  he  had  never  done  before.  It 
was  a  refreshing  scene,  made  pretty 
by  the  mother  and  children,  and  restored 
our  belief  in  humanity.  And  if  there 
was  just  a  suspicion  of  priggishness  in 
the  voices  of  the  parents,  this  defect  of 
virtue  should  be  easily  remedied. 

"Train  up  a  child,"  says  SOLOMON, 
"  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  ...  he 
will  not  depart  from  it."  It  was  there- 
fore no  shock  to  me  in  the  last  Act  when 
Billy  elected  to  take  up  his  permanent 
residence  with  this  admirable  family. 

I  trust  that  the  character  of  little 
Master  JOHNNIE  BROWN,  who  played. 
Billy  with  considerable  intelligence 
and  aplomb,  will  not  be  unfavourably 
affected  either  by  the  preliminary 
booming  of  him  in  the  Press  or  by  his 
early  contact  with  the  seamy  side  of 
human  nature.  Of  the  grown-ups,  that 
delightful  actor,  Mr.  O.  B.  CLARENCE, 
as  one  of  the  designing  relations,  bore 
the  chief  burden  in  a  part  that  suited 
his  distressful  methods,  though  I  can 
imagine  him  funnier.  The  others  fell 
easily  into  the  picture;  but  a  kindly 
Providence  has  given  Miss  MANHKIKLU 
too  genial  a  countenance  for  the 


austerity  of  such  a  rdle  as  that  of  Aunt 
Fanny. 

Altogether  a  quite  pleasant  and  in- 
nocent little  comedy,  for  which  the 
brief  time  it  occupied  (two  hours  gross) 
was  ample  allowance.  O.  S. 

"  Florence. 

Yesterday  evening  at  the  Lyceum  before 
a  large  and  distinguished  audience,  Oscar 
Browinug  Efg  delivered  a  lecture  on  the 
English  priests  of  the  last  century.  The 
lecturer  related  piquant  anecdotes,  hitherto 
unpublished,  concerning  Bayron,  Skelley, 
Fwnibourne,  Pennyson,  Broaning,  G.  Eliot, 
with  all  of  whom  ho  was  intimately  ac- 
quainted."— La  Tribuna. 

One  regrets  the  veteran  litterateur's 
reticence  on  the  subject  of  his  lifelong 
friendship  with  Sir  Flip  Spakeshear 
and  Skidney. 

"  Wilshire  tells  us  that  infantile  paralysis  is 
caused  by  a  germ  conveyed  by  a  stable  fly." 
Daily  Herald. 

These  microbes  are  getting  very  lux- 
urious in  their  methods  of  locomotion. 


"DATE  OF  THE  OAT  RACE." 

Evening  Standard. 

There  must  be  some  mistake.  Our  in- 
formation is  that  both  Universities  have 
decided  to  give  the  adversary  beans. 


"Complexions  removed." 

Advt.  in  "  Daily  Express." 

At  owner's  risk,  we  presume. 


THE  LONDONER  EXULTS 

(over  the  cracks  in  St.  Paul's). 
I  MAY  be  undersized  and  thin, 

I  may  be  drab  and  mean, 
The  smallest  sort  of  fragment  in 

An  infinite  machine ; 
Both  Fame  and  Fortune  may  have 
passed 

And  left  me  on  the  shelf, 
But  I  've  begun  to  see  the  vast 

Importance  of  myself. 

It  makes  my  modest  bosom  throb 

With  pride  to  note  the  rout 
Of  Art  and  Faith  before  the  job 

Of  moving  me  about ; 
The  'buses  roar,  the  trains  pursue 

Their  subterranean  track — 
I  must  be  served  and  swifty  too, 

Though  half  the  town  should  crack. 

I  thunder  down  to  work  each  morn, 

And  some  historic  shrine 
Must  have  its  matchless  fabric  torn 

To  get  me  there  at  nine ; 
And  when  I  gather  up  my  traps, 

As  sundown  sets  me  free, 
A  nation's  monuments  collapse 

To  take  me  home  to  tea  ! 


"  He  insisted  on  searching  Sir  Edward,  and, 
to  the  latter's  horror,  two  acres  were  found  up 
his  sleeve  and  one  in  his  pocket." 

Paignton  Observer. 
Where  was  the  cow  ? 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVAEI. 


[JANUARY  22,  1913. 


which   she   carried 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(Hi/  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
Mi:  Siicrinaliam  and  Others  (MILLS  AND  BOON)  is  the  latest 
production  of  that  clever  lady,  Mrs.  ALFRED  SIDQWICK,  and 
displays  her  art  in  various  lights  all  good,  if  not  quite  the 
l.c>t.  'Mr.  Slwrintjham,  you  should  he  told,  is  a  long  short 
stoiy,  almost  a  novel.  The  Others  are  short  short  stories, 
and  some  sketches  so  slight  as  not  to  be  stories  at  all.  Mr. 
Sheringham,  however,  is  capital  fun — a  tale  with  all  the 
right  elements  of  popularity :  a  poor  heroine,  friendless  in 
Paris,  and  some  wicked  adventurers  who  almost  murdered 
her  to  obtain  some  valuable  shares, 
about  with  her,  as  heroines 
do,  in  a  little  bag..  This,  of 
course,  was  after  she  had 
been  enriched  by  the  gifts  of 
a  kind  uncle,  a  financier,  who, 
having  presented  her  with 
stock  certificates  worth  fifty 
thousand  pounds,  left  her 
quite  alone  in  a  strange  land, 
at  the  mercy  of  a  couple  so 
patently  villainous  that  one's 
flesh  crept  to  read  about 
them.  You  will  now  not  be 
astonished  to  hear  that 
comic  relief  is  supplied  by  a 
page-boy  (red-haired)  and  a 
friendly  cook,  who  fulfil  then- 
obvious  purpose  by  helping 
the  heroine  in  moments  of 
urgent  need.  You  will  also 
be  prepared  for  my  statement 
that  the  whole  thing  shows 
Mrs.  SIDGWICK  as  a  teller 
of  effective  stories,  such  as 
many  writers  could  manage 
with  equal  success,  rather 
than  as  the  creator  of  any- 
thing so  exquisite  as,  for 
example,  The  Severins.  But 
for  the  moments  when  one 
demands  no  more  than  an 
honest  improbable  tale  of 
love  and  crime  and  adven- 
ture, told  with  just  enough 
distinction  to  preserve  the 
self-respect  of  the  reader, 


Mr.  Sheringham  will  be  found 
very  agreeable  company. 


let  us  say,  The  Salchcstcr  Guardian.  But,  to  turn  from 
tlio  background  to  the  characters,  Mr.  GILBERT  CANNAN  has 
made  a  sporting  if  rather  too  ambitious  attempt  to  chronicle 
the  doings  and  inter-relations  of  a  largo  clerical  family  (there 
were  ten  of  the  Folyats,  counting  the  parents),  an  attempt 
that  has  hardly  been  rivalled,  perhaps,  since  the  days  of 
Miss  CHARLOTTE  YONOE,  though  what  that  good  lady 
would  have  said  to  her  successor's  tiresomely  emancipated 
views  on  life  and  love,  as  expressed  through  the  lips  of 
Serge,  the  Bohemian  eldest  son,  I  shudder  to  think. 
They  were  an  unhappy  family,  the  Folyats,  from  little  James, 
who  fell  off  the  roof  on  page  46,  to  Frederick,  who  shot 
himself  in  the  train  on  page  332 ;  and  the  whole  book  is 

undeniably  gloomy ;  but  Mr. 
GILBERT  CANNAN  writes  well, 
and,  except  when  ho  is 
moralising,  is  always  in- 
teresting. But,  if  he  ever 
gets  a  whack  on  the  head 
from  half-a-brick  while  he  is 
walking  through  Edward 
Square,  Manford,  he  must 
not  complain.  He  is  simply 
asking  for  it. 


A  TRUE   GENTLEMAN. 


Kindly  Suburban  Resident  (to  itinerant  Plant  MercJuint). 

I  'LL  TAKE  OKE  AS  YOU  SAY  YOUIi  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN  ARE  STARVING. 
JUST  PUT  IT  ON  MY  HAT  ;  YOU  WILL  FIND  A  SOVEREIGN  IN  MY  LEFT- 
I'LL  WAIT  HEBE  TILL  YOU  BltlSG  THE 


I  have  discovered  a  jolly 
winter  evening    game    for   the 


HAND    WAISTCOAT-POCKET. 
CHANGE." 


inhabitants    of    Manford 


and  Salchester  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Irsley.  They 
must  buy  copies  of  Mr.  GILBERT  CANNAN'S  new  book, 
Hound  the  Corner  (MAKTIN  SECKER),  and  go  through  it 
carefully,  trying  to  identify  the  names  of  local  streets 
and  buildings  through  the  not  too  difficult  fog  of  aliases 
with  which  the  author  has  enshrouded  them.  They  will 
like  the  game,  I  think,  but  I  am  not  at  all  so  sure  that 
they  will  like  Mr.  GILBERT  CANNAN.  For  he  has  very  few 
good  things  to  say  of  what  he  calls  "the  darker  half  of 
our  town  on  the  north  bank  of  the  poisoned  river."  And 
when  I  read  such  sentences  as  "  he  walked  to  the  station 
through  the  dark  railway  arches,  through  Town  Hall  Square 
with  its  statues  of  John  Bright,  the  late  Bishop,  the  Prince 
Consort,  and  a  local  philanthropic  sweater,"  I  envy  with  a 
deep  envy  the  task  of  the  man  who  reviews  this  book  for, 


Her  name  was  Barbara 
Burdone,  and  she  was  called 
by  her  old  nurse  Lady  Bab. 
When  her  father, Lord  Bran- 
chester,  married  again  she 
got  on  quite  badly  with  her 
step  -  mother.  So,  after  a 
tempestuous  interlude  in  a 
scholastic  establishment  for 
young  ladies  and  an  incident 
on  the  high  road,  where 
Barbara  turns  a  gentleman 
cut-purse's  pistols  upon  him- 
self, we  find  her  at  sea  in  a 
war-ship,  en  route  to  join  her 
banished  brother  in  Canada. 
And  because  the  ship  is 
French  you  get  the  quaint 
experience  of  hearing  the 
English  fleet  spoken  of  as 
the  enemy  ;  indeed,  there  is 
even  an  engagement,  ending 
with  honours  easy — though 
I  own  to  having  been  a  little 
surprised  that  so  fiery  a  piece 
as  Lady  Barbara  did  not  blow 
up  something  and  hand  the 
vessel  over  to  the  British 
admiral.  However,  she  arrived  in  Quebec  safely,  and  in- 
stituted a  further  series  of  adventures  with  lied  Indians 
and  such.  1  ought  to  tell  you  that  she  has  been  invented 
by  Mrs.  ALICE  WILSON  Fox,  who  gives  to  the  book  the 
certainly  very  appropriate  title  of  A  Regular  Madam  (M.vc- 
MILLAN).  It  is  a  story  of  simple  but  pleasant  and  entirely 
wholesome  happenings  chiefly  intended  for  the  daughters 
of  gentlemen,  to  whom  indeed  it  should  make  a  strong 
appeal. 


"  Adult  members  of  Chagford  Parish  Church  Choir,  ringors,  church- 
wardens, and  sidosmon  were  entertained  to  supper  at  the  Rectory  on 
Thursday  by  the  Rector.  The  latter  part  of  the  evening  was  spent 
in  harmony."— The  Western  Horniny  News. 

We  wonder  what  had  happened  earlier.     A  little  trouble 
perhaps  over  the  apple  sauce. 


JANUARY  29,  1913.J 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


75 


CHARIVARIA. 

No  women  are  allowed  on  the  terri- 
tory of  the  newest  Republic,  Mount 
Atlios.  An  expeditionary  force  of 
Suffragettes  is,  we  hear,  to  bo  fitted 
out  at  once.  ^  # 

Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE,  at  the  National 
Liberal  Club,  proposed  the  health  of 
tho  members  of  the  Liberal  Insurance 
Committee.  In  the  present  congestion 
the  health  of  the  Insured  will  have  to 

look  after  itself.     ^  * 

*' 

There  is  still  a  good  deal  of  miscon- 
ception in  regard  to  the  provisions  of 
the  Insurance  Act.  The  wife  of  a 
Liverpool  carter  who  presented  her 
husband  with  a  complete  set  of  quad- 
ruplets last  week  was 
evidently  under  the  im- 
pression that  she  would 
be  entitled  to  four  mater- 
nity boni.  #  j. 


The  L.  C.  C.  has  de- 
cided that  undertakers 
shall  be  exempt  from  the 
half -holiday  under  the 
Shops  Act.  It  •  was  no 
doubt  realised  that  a 
holiday  might  render 
them  unbecomingly 
cheerful.  ...  ,.. 

Lecturing  on  "  Hered- 
ity of  Sex  "  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  Professor 
BATESON  said  that  there 
was  a  certain  amount  of 
truth  in  the  theory  that 
sons  took  after  their 
mothers  and  daughters 
after  their  fathers.  Our 


number  of  well-road  burglars  make  a 
pious  pilgrimage  to  this  house  from 
the  Metropolis,  and  stand  gazing  up  at 

it,  hat  in  hand.      ...  ^. 

* 

Dr.  FRANK  MAT.LORY,  of  Harvard 
University,  has,  it  is  announced, 
isolated  tho  whooping  -cough  germ. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  noisy  little 
beggar  has  been  confined  in  a  sound- 
proof coll. 

A  comedy  called  The  Joneses  is  to  be 
produced  as  soon  as  a  suitable  theatre 
can  be  secured.  A  play  with  this  title 
should  do  well,  if  only  all  the  Joneses 
go  to  see  whether  they  are  mentioned 
in  it.  *  <; 

* 

With   reference  to  the  burning  of 


with  an  English  version,  for  the  sako 
of  our  Frencii  visitors.  I 

The  interview,  last  week,  bi-l  ucrn 
Mr.  LLOYD  GKOUOF.  and  the  Fish- 
wives must  have  been  somewhat 
piquant.  It  is  said  that  one  of  tho 
ladies  cried  out,  "Mr.  Grom;r.  wlir-rc 
would  you  have  been  without  Hillings- 
gate?" 

Practical  Joking  in  the  House. 

"M.P.'S  SKAT. 

SOME  OnscuiiK  LKGAL  POINTS  RAIBKD." 
Lii-rrpool  /•>/».. 


"  As  he  sits  before  you  at  tho  breakfast  tablo 
— for  tho  breakfast  table  is  his  time  foe  talk — 
he  seems  tho  most  light-hearted  and  un- 
troubled of  mon.  Even  little  Megan,  who 
passes  you  the  jam — for  you  help  yourselves  in 
this  informal  household  — 
docs  not  seem  more  gay,  nor 
tho  black  pug  that  snores  on 
tho  hearthrug  more  free  from 
care."  — From  a  character 


sketch  of  Mr.  Lloyd  George 

in  "  The 

Leader." 


Unity   Neil's   and 


Wife  of  his  Bosotn  (in  course  of  domestic  difference).  "COWARD!     BBUTE! 
RUFFIAN  I   Pio  I   MONSTEK  I   BEAST  I   OH,  I  WISH  YOU  KNEW  WHAT  I  THOUGHT 

OP  YO01  " 


Original  and  boldly  in- 
novating in  all  things, 
the  CHANCELLOR,  it  will 
be  noticed,  dispenses 
with  the  servants,  who, 
throughout  breakfast,  in 
less  informal  houses, 
stand  behind  one's  chair. 


"Dr.  McClure,  the  head- 
master of  Mill  Hill  School, 
has  been  granted  sir  months' 
leave  .  .  .  to  attend  a  Sunday- 
school." — The  I'resbj/terian. 

It  sounds  rather  a  stiff 
course. 


experience, 


however,  is  that  the  modern  child  in- 
sists on  taking  before  its  parents. 

*  •:: 

At  the  same  time  we  can  offer  no 
objection  to  the  title  of  the  lecture — 
"  Heredity  of  Sex."  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  sex  is  hereditary,  children 
almost  invariably  being  of  the  same  sex 
as  one  or  other  of  their  parents. 

*  :;: 

••VICTOR  'IGRAYSON 
WANTS  A  REVOLUTION  " 

" Daily  Herald"  poster. 
A  few  public-spirited  men  are,  we  hear, 
thinking  of  clubbing  together  to  buy 
VICTOR  a  ticket  to  South  America. 

It  is  pointed  out  that  a  house  at 
Chortsey,  which  is  now  for  sale,  was 
the  scene  of  Bill  Bikes'  burglary  as  set 
forth  in  Oliver  Twist.  We  should 
have  thought  this  would  have  been  a 
questionable  attraction  to  purchasers, 
for,  no  doubt,  every  fine  Sunday  a 


Tom  Jones  at  Doncaster,  in  order  that 
the  morals  of  racing  men  may  not  be 
imperilled,  it  always  seems  to  us  some- 
thing of  a  mystery  that  many  of  our 
modern  novels  do  not  perish  from 
spontaneous  combustion. 

:|:      -.;: 
• 

From  Paris  it  is  announced  that 
ladies'  dresses  are  to  be  fitted  up  with 
pockets.  So  it  is  all  over  with  man's 
one  point  of  superiority  over  the  other 

sex !  ...  ... 

"  TIME-TABLES  NEEDLESS," 
announces  a  certain  railway  company. 
It  will  be  interesting  to  see  whether 
the  idea  spreads,  and  a  certain  other 


company    announces 

USELESS." 


1  TIME -TABLES 


In  a  new  edition  of   a  well-known 
cookery  book  some  strictures  are  passed 


on   the   French 

average  menu. 


to  be   found   on    our 
We    certainly    think 


that  it  should  always  be  accompanied 


"  One    vice    at    a    time, 
please,"  urged  her  husband, 
helping  himself  to  a  gammon  of  bacon." 
From  one  of  Messrs.  Sxxxxxrxx's  sparkling 
articles  in  "  The  Westminster  Gazette." 

Breakfast  over,  he  resumed  his  injec- 
tions of  morphine. 


1 '  Governess,  to  take  full  charge  of  3  children, 
including  mailcart."— Adrt.  in  "Liverpool 
Daily  Vost  and  Mercury." 

To  bo  precise,  what  is  really  wanted  is 
a  Groom-Governess. 


' '  Recommended  experienced  chauffeur- 
mechanic,  4  years  last  situation,  75  years' 
private  driving." — The  Autocar. 

The  year  1838  will  always  be  remem- 
bered for  the  impetus  which  it  gave  to 
the  motor  industry.' 


Winter  Fashions. 

"  Karly  in  the  morning,  shortly  before 
9  o'clock,  His  Royal  Highness  was  seen 
around  the  magnificent  grounds  of  '  Raveng- 
crag,'  and  at  9.30  he  issued  forth  clad  simply 
in  a  short  overcoat,  and  with  gaiters  to  protect 
his  legs  against  tho  cold." — Montreal  Star. 


76 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [JANUARY  29.  1913. 


THE    CONSCIENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

[For  oneo  in  a  way  the  Party  Whips  were  taken  off  and  Members 
•were  allowed,  on  the  Women's  Suffrage  question,  to  vote  according 
to  their  consciences.  Partly  owing  to  atrophy  of  this  organ,  some 
very  strange  and  complicated  intrigues  resulted  from  the  Cabinet's 
dispensation.] 

WHAT  mean  these  most  unusual  cries 

That  hurtle  through  the  deafened  lobbies, 
Cross-questions  and  oblique  replies 

From  those  who  back  their  several  hobbies, 
All,  like  the  polyglots  of  Babel, 
Talking  as  hard  as  ever  they  are  able  ? 

What  should  portend  this  curious  breach 

Of  Liberal  tie  and  Tory  tether; 
Old  foes  embracing  each  with  each 

And  friends  at  fisticuffs  together, 
So  that  you  get  no  sort  of  clue 
From  party  labels  as  to  who  is  who  ? 

Can  Reason  from  her  throne  have  fled? 

Over  some  riddle,  dark  and  knotty, 
Has  Parliament  mislaid  her  head 

And  gone  (in  vulgar  diction)  dotty  ? 
Nay !  'Tis  the  voice,  long  out  of  use, 
The  still  small  voice  of  Conscience  breaking  loose.  „ 

Conscience  at  play!  Ah,  picture  how, 

Ever  the  sport  of  cruel  lashes 
Laid  by  the  "Whips  on  back  and  brow, 

All  pink  and  blue  with  weals  and  gashes, 
Trodden  beneath  the  tyrant's  boots, 
Goaded  and  herded  like  dumb  driven  brutes — 

Pictiire,  I  say,  how  when  the  yoke 
Was  lifted  from,  his  neck,  poor  martyr, 

Like  an  emancipated  moke 

Free  to  enjoy  the  winds'  wide  charter, 

Each  Member  tossed  his  happy  heels    . 

And  filled  the  air  with  blithe,  discordant  squeals. 

Look  how  their  hearts  and  lungs  expand 
For  joy  of  Freedom's  fair  amenities ! 

Hcrw  bright,  but  (on  the  other  hand) 
How  tragically  brief  a  scene-it  is  ! 

Too  soon  will  they  be  summoned  back 

T6  play  once  more  the1  hopeless  party-hack. 

Alas !  ao  strong  are  habit's  reins, 

Meekly  they  '11  reassuine  their  fetters, 

Cease  to  employ  their  private  brains, 
Sworn  to  the  bidding  of  their  sweaters, 

And  soak  in  that  abysmal  sink — 

The  life  where  nobody 's  allowed  to  think. 


0.  S. 


Note  received  by  a  Liverpool  doctor : — • 

"Mrs.  regrets  not  being  ablo  to  keep  her  appointment  with 

Dr. owing  to  sickness  to-day  at  12  o'clock  as  arranged." 


"Lost  between  Walton  and  Ormskirk,  three  Brown  Hampers  anc 
one  White  one,  named  Seddon." — Ormskirk  Advertiser. 

We    once    had    a    bag    that    answered    to    the  name   o 
Gladstone;  and  it  came  to  a  I  a  1  end. 


ALL    THE    WORLD'S    A    SCHOOL. 

HAVING  noticed  in  a  contemporary  an  interview  with 
Sir  HERBERT  BEERBOITM  THEE,  in  which  the  great  actor 
aid  not  only,  "  I  am  completing  my  education  by  touring 
he  world,"  but  "I  hope  my  holiday  may  be  beneficial  to 
ny  art,  and  therefore  a  benefit  to  the  public,"  the  Secrc- 
ary  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  at  once  hurried  to 
he  home  of  the  illustrious  histrion  with  the  purpose  of 
Hitting  a  number  of  supplementary  or  "  arising-out-of " 
•juestions. 

He  found  Sir  HERBERT  three  deep  in  the  paraphernalia 
of  travel.  Moccasins  and  snowshoes  jostled  mosquito  nets 
,nd  scfmbreros.  Hero  was  an  alpenstock,  there  an  ice 
mtchet;  guns,  boots,  howdahs,  pith  1  ehnets  were  every- 
where. GALTON'S  Art  of  Travel  lay  on  the  iloor,  and  beside 
t  copies  of  Near  Home  and  Far  Off.  Medicine  chests  were 
oeing  filled;  crates  containing  beads  and  gaily  coloured 
sloths  .(for  .the  natives)  were  being  packed;  busts  of 
STANLEY  and  Captain  COOK  stood  on  the  mantelpiece,  each 
wearing  a  wreath. 

In  the  midst  of  this  confusion  was  Sir  HERBERT. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you?  "  ho  asked,  with  his  profound 
and  unfailing  courtesy. 

"  Observing,"  replied  the  visitor,  "  that  you  have  selected 
iravel  as  the  medium  by  which  you  are  to  complete  your 
education,  I  thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  inquire  how 
'ar  you  mean  to  go  ?  " 

"  My  plans  are  not  too  definite,"  said  Sir  HERBERT.  "  I 
shall  wander  where  I  like." 

"May  I  ask  where  you  are  going  first ?" 

"To  Moscow,"  said  Sir  HERBERT. 

"And  what  particular  mental  vacuum  do  you  expect  that 
ity  to  fill?," 

"  I  am  proposing  there  to  take  lessons  in  dancing.  I  think 
of  attending  the  same  school  which  sent  forth  the  divine 
NIJINSKY  to  enchant  the  world." 

"  Good,"  said  the  geographer,  taking  out  his  note-book. 

And  Austria  ?  " 

"Among  the  Tyrolese  eminenccsl  hope,"  said  Sir  HERBERT, 
"  to  perfect  my  jodelling." 

"In  China?" 

"In  China  I  intend  to  immerse  myself  in  thos'e  ancient 
humours  and  emotions  of  the  Celestial  Empire  which  have 
just  blossomed  so  gloriously  at  ft  neighbouring  theatre 
managed  by  one  of  my  knighted  colleagues." 

"  You  will  return,  I  take  it,"  hazarded  his  visitor,  '-'  when 
the  education  is  complete — when  the  receptacle  can  hold 
no  more?" 

"  Well,  yes ;  4et  us  leave  it  at  that,"  said  Sir  HERBERT. 

"  That  is  to  say,  if  you  were  on  your  way  to  Patagonia," 
continued  the  geographer,  "and  found  at  Buenos  Ayres  that 
you  knew  all,  you  would  not  proceed  to  Patagonia,  but 
hurry  back  in  order  that  the  public  might  at  once  begin  to 
'  enjoy  the  benefits  '  ?  " 

Sir  HERBERT  TREE  boughed,  as  to  the  manner  born. 
"But,"  he  said,  "I  must  ask  you  now  to  excuse  me.  I 
have  to  leave  in  two  hours." 

"Certainly.  But  one  more  question,  and  the  last,"  said 
the  geographer,  reaching  for  his  hat.  "  How  long  do  you 
expect  to  be  away  ?  " 

"  About  a  week,  I  think." 


"  In  connection  with  the  Highweek  Church   Sunday  schools  the 

annual  treat  was  held  on  Thursday  afternoon.   .   .   .    Miss gavt 

a  disgraceful  dance,  which  was  highly  appreciated." 

Devon  and  Newtun  Tune: . 

Human  nature  will  out,  even  at  a  Sunday-school  enter 
tainment. 


"The  thing  will  bo  to  sea  .  .   .  the  factory  girl  married  to  young 
Wakes."— -English  Iteview. 

Other  things  to  see  will  be  "  Our  Liz  "  married  to  Augusl 
Bankholiday,  young  Jeffcote  eloping  at  dead  of  night  with 
Hindle  Town  Hall,  and  our  Dramatic  Critic  getting  the 
piny  into  his  head. 


PUNCH,  OR  THH  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JANUABY  29,   1913. 


THE   SURREY  RIVIERA. 

FATHEU  THAMES  (singing  plainiiwly).  "  I    KNOW   A    BANK    WHERE    THE    FOUL    SLIME    FLOWS." 

[London  is  beginning  to  recognise  that  it  is  high  time  to  set  about  correcting  the  unsightlir.Cis  of  the  Right  Bank  of  the  Thames.] 


JANUARY  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


79 


— A-T  5r-UTV«— 


"Hiir.Lo!    WHATEVEB'S  THE  JIATTEB  WITH  TOO,  BEBTIE?" 

"  EOTTKtf  LUCK,   OLD   MAN  ;    COT  AH  ATHLETE'S  HEART  PLAYIS1    '  CoOJT-CAN.'  " 


THE    MILO    MEASURE. 

DEAK  MB.  PUNCH, — I  wonder  if  you 
will  be  sweet  enough  to  act  as  my 
advance  agent  in  booming  a  little 
practical  feminine  invention  which  I 
am  about  to  place  on  the  market.  As 
you  know  very  well,  the  Venus  di  Milo 
represents  that  absolute  ideal  of  pro- 
portion which  every  woman  aims  at, 
though,.,  of  course,  the  lady  in  the 
l.ouvre  is  on  the  large  side  and  a  little 
battered  about  the  extremities.  As  no 
doubt  you  are  also  aware,  some  years 
ago  certain  artistic  experts  took  the 
measurements  of  the  statue  and  re- 
duced them  to  normal  human  scale  and 
have  supplied  the  world  with  the 
measurements  which  are  exactly  those 
which  the  Venus  di  Milo  would  have 
possessed  if  she  had  been  a  living 
\\omtin  of  5ft.  4in.  in  height.  Now, 
this  table  has  hitherto  apparently  re- 
presented a  hopelessly  unattainable 
ideal,  until  quite  recently  the  feminine 
world  was  fluttered  by  the  news  of  an 
American  girl  whose  measurements  are 
claimed  to  approximate  to  those  of  the 
famous  statue.  It  was  then  the  busi- 


ness of  The  Daily  'Mirror  to  find  a 
successful  rival  in  England,  and,  that 
being  speedily  accomplished,  I  think 
I  may  say  without  exaggeration  that 
the  interest  in  Milo  measurements  has 
become  so  universally  keen  that  nearly 
every  woman  of  average  height  on  both 
sides  of  the  Ocean  has  been  busy  with 
a  tape  measure. 

I  was  lately  assisting  at  one  of  these 
private  stances,  and  it  was  when  I 
noticed  how  frightfully  backed  my 
friend  was  to  find  that  her  neck  and 
ankles,  for  instance,  were  all  right,  and 
how  disheartened  she  grew  to  find  her 
waist  and  fore-arm,  shall  wo  say,  were 
all  wrong,  that  a  great  inspiration  for 
the  benefit  of  my  sex  flashed  across  my 
brain. 

That  inspiration  has  now  borne 
fruit  in."  The  Milo  Measure,"  price  l/- 
in  untarnishable  nickel  case  (patent 
applied  for).  I  guarantee  that  this 
dainty  toilet  necessity,  on  which  the 
Milo  measurements  are  marked  out — 
74  inches  for  ankle,  13-2  for  calf,  26  for 
waist,  and  so  on — will  make  Venuses  of 
all  women  of  average  height,  and  thus 
brighten  the  entire  feminine  outlook 


and  bring  a  rosy  atmosphere  of  classical 
beauty  to  many  a  grey  suburban  home. 

All  that  the  purchaser  has  to  do  in 
order  to  make  her  proportions  come  out 
identical  with  those  of  the  Milo  is  to 
grasp  the  end  of  the  Measure  between 
the  thumb  and  finger  of  the  left  hand, 
place  the  thumb  and  finger  of  the  right 
hand  firmly  on  the  particular  number  of 
inches  required,  and  apply  the  Measure 
to.  each  Kmb  or  feature  in  turn.  The 
Measure  will  do  the  rest. 

Yours  very  sincerely,         EVA. 

P.S. — I  am  confidently  counting  on 
your  assistance,  dear  Mr.  Punch,  as  my 
advance  agent,  so  I  think  it  is  only 
right  to  inform  you  that  "The  Milo 
Measure  "  is  made  of  clastic  web. 


"According  to  the  'Bsard  of  Trada  Labour 
|  Gazette,'  the  greatest  proportionate  increases 
,  in  food  prices  in  1912,  compared  with  191.1, 
ure  as  follow  : — 

I,?ad.  28.2  per  cent. 
Copper,  25.8  per  cent. 
Pig  iron,  14.8  per  cent. 
Coal,  11.1  percent." 

T,irrt-pcol  EcJto. 

And  with  food  like  this  our  teeth,  too, 
,  will  cost  us  more. 


80 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[.JANUARY  29,  1913. 


RUPERT. 

Hri'KHT,  the  horse,  camo  to  us  with 
the  best  references,  and  I  'm  sure  he 
always  mount  well  and  tried  his  hardest, 
but  we  all  have  days  when  tilings  go 
wrong  and  we  feel  like  slamming  the 
door  or  smashing  something,  and  I 
think  that  was  Rupert's  trouble  on  the 
ill-fated  morning. 

.Papa  has  an  excellent  custom  of 
riding  about  the  neighbourhood  on 
horseback  to  shake  up  his — to  keep 
him  lit,  and  that  was  where  Eupert 
came  in  ;  and,  as  I  was  saying,  he  was 


"  I  came  away.  I  was  too  indignant 
to  discuss  the  matter  with  them  at  any 
length  :  I  could  find  no  excuse  for  their 
behaviour.  If  they  wished  to  dance 
they  should  have  waited  until  a  suit- 
able occasion  presented  itself.  It 's  a 
growing  scandal,  you  know7.  Bad 
enough  for  people  to  go  about  without 
visible  means  of  support.  They  should 
at  least  observe  the  common  courtesies 
of  the  highway." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  advice  would  have 
been  wasted  on  them ;  but  what  did 
you  do  with  Rupert  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  it  was  rather  a 
problem.  He  was  a  little  difficult  to 


a  conscientious  horse  and  as  a  rule  did 
the  job  well. 

On  the  morning  in  question 
Papa  had  gone  out  riding  and 
I  was  doing  the  housekeeping, 
and  was  in  fact  in  the  kitchen 
expounding  the  Insurance  Act  to 
the  cook  for  about  the  twentieth 
time.  It  seemed  to  her  un- 
reasonable that  she  might  not 
immediately  begin  to  draw  in 
some  benefits,  and  I  was  at 
great  pains  making  it  clear  to 
her  that  the  game  couldn't  begin 
till  she  got  ill  or  married  or  some- 
thing, and  that  for  the  present 
she  must  derive  what  satisfaction 
she  could  from  contemplating 
her  card,  which  really  looked 
very  pretty  with  the  stamp-col- 
lection on  it. 

The  discourse  was  interrupted 
by  the  advent  of  Papa,  who  came 
in  rather  furtively  through  the 
back  door  with  his  hair  awry 
and  a  lot  of  mud  on  his  clothes. 
There  was  riot  the  least  doubt 
what  had  happened  to  him. 

"Ah,  Felicity,"  l:e  began, 
"  I — I  've  just  returned — rather 
unexpectedly." 

"Oh,  Papa,"  I  cried,  "have 
you  fallen  off?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  answered 
with  dignity.     "  Riding-men  never  fall  deal  with,  and  as  the  tramps  offered  to 
otf.     Sometimes   they  are   thrown,  of  close  in  on  him  and  bring  him  home 
course."  — ' —    '-  -  -,    .     ,      • 

• "  Yes,  I  meant  that, 
dear  ?    How  did  it  happen  ? 


READ  THIS  ABOUT  THE  DECLINE 


First  Blood.  "HAVE  YOU 

OP  THE    BIRTH-HATE  ?  ' ' 

Second  Blood.  "  YES  ;  MAKES  ONE  RATHER  ANXIOUS.   AFRAID 

IT  'LL  LEAD  TO  CONSCRIPTION  !  " 


to  parley  with  them,  and  I  kept  an  eye 
on  the  proceedings  from  behind  the 
window-curtain. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  they  were 
demanding  most  extortionate  sums  for 
salvage,  and  I  began  to  be  afraid  that 
Papa  would  be  unable  to  cope  with  the 
situation,  so  I  decided  on  immediate 
action,  and,  raising  the  sash,  leaned  out. 
"  Papa,  papa,"  I  cried. 
"  Yes,  my  dear." 

"  An  awful  thing  's  happened.  The 
bloodhounds  have  escaped.  They  've 
eaten  the  under-gardener  and  they  're 
tearing  round  the  shrubbery." 

The  tramps  threw  up  the  game  at 
—  once.    In  five  seconds  they  were 
'  out  of  sight. 

It  took  some  time  to  reassure 
Papa,  who  at  first  believed  that 
there  really  were  bloodhounds 
concealed  about  the  premises. 

"  Well,  I  thought  you  might 
have  got  some,  Felicity,"  he 
said ;  "  I  never  know  what 
you  '11  do  next." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  wo  haven't 
any  dog  at  all.  The  idea  was 
mooted  a  short  time  ago,  but 
Dora  the  cat  and  Stephen  the 
hedgehog  filed  a  petition  against 
it  and  the  proposal  was  dropped. 
For  some  days  the  fate  of 
Rupert  was  the  chief  topic  under 
discussion.  Papa  said  he  felt  he 
could  never  he  reconciled  to  him 
again  and  refused  even  to  go 
near  the  stable,  and  in  the  mean- 
while Rupert  took  life  easily 
and  ate  his  head  off. 

"  We  'd  better  give  him  a 
month's  notice,"  I  said. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Papa. 
"  You  don't  do  that  with  horses. 
The  thing  to  do  is  to  send  the 
groom  up  to  TATTERIDGE'S  with 
him  and  sell  him ;  and  I  hope 
the  man  who  buys  the  brute 
will  enjoy  himself." 
worked  out  all  right.  The 


This 


when   he   appeared   to  be  in   a   more 

Are  you  hurt,  reasonable  frame  of  mind  I  accepted 

..en?"  their  proposal.     It  was,  I  thought,  an 

However,  Papa  was   disinclined   to  opportunity  to  repair  to  some  extent 

relate  the  adventure,  in  the- presence  of  the  mischief  they  had  wrought." 

cook,  naturally  enough,  and  it  was  not  "  Papa,  they  '11  steal  him,"  I  cried, 
till  ho  had  changed  his  clothes   that 


I  learned  the  details. 

It  appeared  that  all  had  gone  well 


For  a  moment  he  seemed  to  brighten 
at  the  suggestion,  but  then  he  shook 
his  head. 


until  they  reached  the  open  country,)  "I  doubt  it,"  he  said.  "They  did 
where  they  encountered  two  dis-  not  appear  to  me  to  be  horsey  men  at 
reputable  tramps,  who  joined  hands  all.  I  don't  think  they  would  have 
and  executed  a  dance  in  front  of  the  much  use  for  Rupert." 


horse.     Rupert,  unable  to  contain  his 
indignation,  reared  up,  and  Papa  lost 
his  balance  and  slid  off  over  his  tail. 
"And  what  did  you  do   then?" 
asked. 


And  Papa  proved  to   be   right,  for 


while   we   were 


tramps   camo 
horse  in  tow. 


sitting   at   lunch    the 
up  the   drive  with    the 


After  some  hesitation  Papa  went  out 


TATTERIDGE  people  said  there  was  no 
difficulty.  If  we  would  let  them  have 
the  horse  and  furnish  them  with  a 
description  for  the  catalogue  they  would 
do  the  rest. 

"  We  must  try  to  get  a  real  pen- 
picture  of  Rupert,"  I  said,  "  so  that 
he  '11  go  off  well." 

I  took  a  lot  of  trouble  with  it.  It 
went  like  this.  You  might  like  to  hear 
it  if  you  are  interested  in  Rupert : — • 

"  Good  horse ;  very  little  worn  ;  stock 
size;  colour,  Vandyke  brown  ;  amiable; 
industrious;  sober.  To  sell,  or  would 
exchange  for  nice  sable  stole  and  muff'." 

"  I  don't  want  a  stole  and  muff, 
though,"  said  Papa  when  I  showed  it 
him  for  criticism  and  appreciation. 

"No,  but  you  will  soon,"  I  said. 


.1  VM-AMY  29,  1913.J 


PUNCH,    OK   TJIK    LONDON    CI I A  I!  IV  A  I!  I. 


81 


••  When?" 

••  When  my  birthday  conies  iif\i 
month." 

However,  tlie people  at  TAMI:KIIH.I;'.S 
ciiii'i'cd  him  as  a  "Good  hack.  Quiet 
to  lido  for  a  lady."  The  red  tape  there 
i-.  ahout  as  bad  as  in  any  Government 
(leparlmonl.  I'm  sure  with  my  testi- 
monial ho  would  have  gone  off  very 
\\ell,  instead  of  being  knocked  down, 
ta  I'apa  said,  for  a  mere.  song.  Rupert 
wouldn't  like  that. 

And  so  for  a  time  Papa  was  horso- 
lr^->  and  wont  about  like  ordinary 
people;  but  it  didn't  suit  him.  His 
temper  began  to  get  fretful.  I  decided 
that  he  must  have  something  to  jog 
his  to  exercise  him,  and  I  came  and 
talked  to  him  seriously. 

"  Why  don't  you  get  another  horse, 
I'upu?  "  1  said. 

"Another  one?  " 

"  Yes ;  get  a  nice  tame  one,  you 
know." 

"  Oh,  no,"  ho  said.  '•  That  wouldn't 
do  at  all.  I  want  a  horse  with  a  lot  of 
mettle.  Of  course  it  must  have  some 
self-control  as  well." 

"  Well,  couldn't  you  get  one  like 
that  ?  "  I  suggested.  "  You  oughtn't 
to  give  up  your  riding,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  daresay  I  could,"  he  said. 
"  I  'm  a  pretty  fair  judge  of  a  horse. 
1 11  look  in  at  TATTEEIDOE'S  to-morrow 
and  see  if  I  can  find  one  to  suit  me." 

[  would  have  gone  with  him,  but 
[  had  a  party  on  that  afternoon — 
Blindman's  Buff  and  Coon-Can,  I  think 
it  was. 

I  got  back  from  it  rather  late  and 
found  Papa  already  returned,  fearfully 
pleased  with  himself  and  looking  very 
horsey  with  a  large  cigar  in  his  mouth 
and  a  whisky-and-soda  on  the  mantel- 
piece. 

"  What  success  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Picked  out  the  very  horse,"  he  said. 
"leather  expensive.  Cost  a  good  deal 
more  than  Kupert,  but  well  worth  the 
money." 

"  Where  is  he  ?" 

"I  rode  him  back.  He's  in  the 
stables.  Come  round  and  see  him." 

Ho  showed  him  off  with  great  pride. 

I  walked  all  round  the  horse.  He 
winked  at  me  and  whisked  his  tail 
towards  Papa. 

"I  suppose  you  didn't  meet  any 
trumps  on  the  way  down,"  I  said 

"No.     Why?" 

"  Well,  if  you  had,   he  might   have 
given  himself  away." 
Who  might?" 

"  Rupert." 

The  X-Ray  Eye. 

'•  I  have  been  .sitting  at  the  window  making 
i  hi'  number  of  'liust-s,  and  the  contents 
•riigi-rs."—  Letter  in  "  The  Jfnmpstead 
<"'"  .S7.  John's  ]\-o:,<l  Atli-ertiser." 


IS    ENGLAND    DECLINING? 

Tltc  Old  Hand.  "Tnis  'LL  GIVE  you  AN  IDKA  OP  WOT  THINGS  is  COIIIN'  TO.    Wire,  A  KKW 

EAKS  AGO  A  TIN  LIKE   THIS   WOULD   'AVE   'AD  A  COUl'LE   OP  8ABDINE8   IN;    p'«'AP8  TUBKK." 


Commercial  Candour. 


"GENUINE  SALE, 
FntssT  FOII  FIVK  YEAIIS.' 


Advt.  on  the  window  of  a  shop  in  OJ-ford 
Sired.  

Letter  from  a  native  who  runs  a 
regimental  coff'ee-shop  at  Meerut : — 

"Sir, — I  am  extremely  sorry  to  bring  to 

•our  kind  notice  of  running  short  about  ham 

n  my  stock  on  account  of  Xmas.     I  hope  to 

gut  it  very  soon  from  Bombay.     No  sooner  I 

will  receive  it  I  will  let  your  honour  know  all 

>f  a  sudden.     Hoping  for  an  excuse  for  this 

•ofusal  and  obliging  very  much  for  the  trouble 

>f  forgiveness,   I  beg  to   remain,  Sir,  yours 

bedientlv,"  Ac.,  A-c. 


How  to  Attract  a  Congregation. 
"  The  REV.  W.  F.  LOFTHOUSK, 

M.A.  (Birmingham), 
Will  preach  at  11  and  0.30. 
AI.K  COUDIALLY  INVITED." 
Shrewsbury  Commercial  it.  I.itfrary  Clii'oniile. 

"  English  Mistress  for  small  high-class  Day 
School  in  London.  Degree  or  equivalent,  and 
experience  in  high -class  private  school  work. 
Chnrchwoman.  Non-res.  £100  and  mid-day 
dinner,  increasing." — Journal  of  Education. 

After  three  months  the  lady  expects  to 
make  nothing  of  an  ox  roasted  whole. 

"  A  suffragist  tea-shop  has  b?on  set  up 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  Houses  of 
1'arliiiiAont." — Daily  Chronicle. 

"  Stone's  throw  "  is  cood. 


82 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  29,  1913. 


MUSICAL  NOTES. 
THE  successful  appearance  of  the 
banjo  at  the  Queen's  Hall  Symphony 
Concerts  on  Saturday  week  is,  we  are 
glad  to  learn,  likely  to  be  followed  by  a 
further  invasion  of  the  orchestral  pre- 
serves by  instruments  hitherto  deemed 
unworthy  of  such  an  honour.  The 
prospectus  of  the  New  Romantic 
Orchestral  Concerts,  just  issued,  an- 
nounces that  on  April  1st  Mr.  Oliver 
Pilditch  will  produce  a  new  symphony 
by  Professor  Quantock  do  Banville, 
entitled  "The  Brontes,"  dedicated  to 
Mr.  CLEMENT  SHORTER.  The  sym- 
phony, which  will  occupy  ninety 
minutes  in  performance,  is  not  only 
scored  for  every  one  of  the  instruments 
employed  in  MAHLER'S  Seventh  Sym- 
phony, but  also  includes  parts  for  a 
quartet  of  penny  whistles,  and  a  solo 
"  Brilliantine  Zither-Comb,"  which  will 
be  played  on  this  occasion  by  Mr. 
SHORTER  himself. 


Another  novelty  to  be  produced  later 
in  the  season  is  a  Mystical  Tone  Poem, 
entitled  "  The  Wandering  Jew,"  by 
Mr.  Hamish  MacSlazenger,  the  young 
Russo- Scottish  composer  who  is  already 
known  as  the  Moscow-Glasgow  Strauss. 
In  a  brief  but  alluring  account  of  the 
new  composition  Mr.  Oliver  Pilditch 
informs  us  that  no  key  signature  is 
affixed  to  any  of  the  fifteen  movements 
of  which  the  work  is  made  up,  and  that 
it  has  practically  no  tonality  at  all.  A 
wonderful  effect  is  produced  in  the 
Sciutrzo,  in  which  four  barrel-organs 
are  introduced,  each  playing  different 
tunes  in  different  keys  and  each  sur- 
mounted by  a  monkey  wearing  a  red 
coat,  while  the  motto  theme,  or  idee  fixe, 
is  always  given  out  by  a  group  of  Jew's 
harps,  specially  constructed  for  the 
occasion  and  called  the  "  Magnifico 
Ponaposo  Solomon  Glory  -  Harps." 
These,  it  is  reassuring  to  hear,  will 
be  played  by  real  Rabbis.  The  score  of 
the  Symphony,  which  occupies  just 
under  two  hours  in  performance,  mea- 
sures 4x4x2  parasangs  and  weighs 
almost  exactly  62  poods. 


Mr.  Odo  Gurglitz,  tho  manager  of 
Mr.  Bamberger,  writes  to  us  with 
reference  to  the  tragic  experiences  of 
DANIEL  MELSA,  the  Polish  violinist 
now  performing  in  London,  on  which 
so  much  stress  has  been  laid  in  the 
Press.  In  the  biographical  sketch  of 
DANIEL  MELSA,  which  is  now  being 
circulated,  we  read  how  during  an  anti- 
Jewish  pogrom  at  Lodz  in  1905  his 
playing  rrielted  the  heart  of  the  Cossack 
leader  and  saved  the  fiddler's  life. 


Mr.  Gurglitz  observes  that   he   lias 


not  tho  smallest  intention  of  disputing 
the  absolute  accuracy  of  the  above 
statement.  All  he  wishes  to  point  out, 
in  justice  to  Mr.  Bauibcrgcr,  is  that  on 
at  least  four  several  occasions  he  (Mr. 
Bamberger)  was  exposed  to  dangers 
compared  with  which  tho  ordeal  of 
DANIEL  MELSA  was  a  trivial  experience. 
The  occasions  were  as  follows :  in 
September,  1907,  Mr.  Bamberger  was 
captured  by  the  Fifofumi  cannibals  in 
New  Guinea  and  was  partially  eaten 
before  he  was  rescued  by  a  punitive 
expedition  commanded  by  Mr.  Gurglitz 
and  the  famous  ex-cannibal  chieftain, 
Gobolo,  whose  beautiful  daughter, 
Ispowispop,  entertained  a  romantic 
but  unrequited  affection  for  Mr. 
Bamberger.  The  second  occasion  was 
in  Odessa  in  1909,  where  Mr.  Bam- 
berger was  blown  up  by  Nihilists 
while  ho  was  playing  tho  piano,  and 
came  down  unhurt  at  a  distance  of 
nearly  200  yards,  although  the  piano 
was  smashed  to  atoms. 


Mr.  Bamberger's  third  escape  was 
in  1910  from  a  boa  constrictor  of  the 
deadly  pompelmoose  variety  which, 
entering  his  bungalow  at  Delhi  while 
he  was  asleep,  wound  itself  round  the 
form  of  the  great  musician.  On 
awaking  to  his  peril,  Mr.  Bamberger 
never  lost  his  nerve  for  a  moment. 
He  just  simply  said,  "  I  am  Bam- 
berger," and  the  great  serpent  submis- 
sively unwound  itself,  sat  up  in  the 
corner  with  a  pleading  expression  until 
the  Maestro  had  played  a  brief  morcean, 
and  then  joyfully  undulated  out  of  the 
apartment.  Fourthly  and  lastly,  in 
February,  1912,  when  his  father-in- 
law,  Sir  Pompey  Boldero,  F.R.S.L., 
was  closely  observing  the  contents  of 
the  crater  of  Vesuvius  and  inadvertently 
fell  in,  Mr.  Bamberger  laapt  into  the 
boiling  gulf  and  brought  him  out  in  a 
parboiled  but  otherwise  well-preserved 
condition. 

The  list  of  the  Queen's  Hall  Orchestra 
is — if  we  believe  in  the  proverb  nomen 
a»ien — an  interesting  study.  It  has  a 
BRAIN  for  one  of  its  principals.  It  has 
a  CAMBRIDGE  to  strengthen  its  appeal 
to  academic  hearers ;  while  twoQuAiFEs 
should  endear  it  to  cricketers.  Lastly, 
literature  and  journalism  are  repre- 
sented by  a  GYP,  a  CONRAD,  and  a- 
GARVIN.  We  note  with  interest  that 
Mr.  GARVIN  plays  the  trombone. 

For  Bargain-hunters. 


•DETECTIVE  TALES, 
3Jd. each. 
3  for  Is." 


Notice  in  bookseller's  window  in  BridUnyton 


OUR  BOOMING  TRADE. 

"  YES,  indeed !  things  are  looking 
up,"  said  a  chatty  undertaker  to  his 
colleague  last  week. 

"  How 's  that  ? — and  with  all  this 
warm  weather?  " 

"  Well,  they  "re  all  broken  -  down 
doctors  on  our  panel,  and  they  've 
each  got  three  thousand  patients." 

Tho  above  short  dialogue  illustrates 
the  prevailing  optimism,  of  which  we 
can  give  several  other  instances. 

The  decreased  takings  of  many 
thousands  of  shop-keepers  through 
the  operation  of  the  Shops  Act  have 
spelt  prosperity  to  a  large  number  of 
newly  -  appointed  bankruptcy  clerks 
and  brokers'  men. 

Corset-designers  are  saying  they 
never  had  such  a  time.  Every  day 
some  new  "  curve  "  is  displayed  in  the 
advertisement  columns  of  our  contem- 
poraries. The  four-o'clock  model  will 
soon  be  outmoded  by  the  "  Stop-press  " 
stays  of  the  Late  Special  Edition. 
Fabulous  sums  are  now  being  earned 
by  lightning  fashion  artists. 

Princely  salaries  also  are  the  reward 
this  season  of  favourite  football  pro- 
fessionals. They  are  now  "  cornered," 
like  any  other  commodity  in  demand. 
Enterprising  club-managers  are  "  bull- 
ing "  and  "  bearing  "  their  little  gold- 
mines on  the  Soccer  Exchange. 

The  soaring  prices  of  petrol  and  the 
consequent  shortage  of  taxis  have  re- 
stored the  lost  art  of  pedestrianism  and 
set  the  boot-making  trade  on  its  feet 
again,  together  with  •  the  ancillary 
manufactures  of  brown-paper  soles  and 
composition  boot-heels. 

Tho  prosperity  of  rag-and-bone-time 
merchants,  with  their  parasites  of  the 
hurdy-gurdy  and  the  German  band,  is 
going  up  by  leaps  and  bounds.  Mean- 
while the  railway  returns  show  heavy 
advances,  due  to  a  strong  desire  in  tho 
less  nutty  circles  of  society  to  escape 
from  this  obsession. 

The  above  are  only  a  few  of  the 
indications,  beside  tho  figures  of  the 
Board  of  Trade,  that  the  outlook  for 
England  is  of  the  most  encouraging. 

ZIG-/AG. 


Municipal  Frankness. 
From    tho    agenda    of    the    Lahore 
Municipality  (llth  January,  1912) : — 

"Papers  regardingan  expenditure  of  Rs.  150 
for  provision  of  pipe-water  for  gwalas  (cow- 
keepers)  living  in  Gual  Mandi,  with  a  view  to 
improvement  in  milk  supply." 


JANUARY  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


83 


FASHION    NOTE. 

SCENE — A  popular  seaside  resort  in  winter. 
Kite.  "On,  MB.  BROWSE,  IF  sou   BEE  MY  BISTER,'  TELL  HER  I'VE  GONE  IN.    DON'T  KNOW  HER? 

SHE'S   MESSED  JUST  LIKE   ME." 


OH,  YOU  CAN'T  MISS  HEB, 


THE    DUEL. 

(To  a  vine-grower  of  Provence  now  sojourning  in  England 
for  the  puiyose  of  acquiring  her  language.) 

You  camo  to  a  clime  where  agues  rack  us, 

And  the  chill  wind  never  stops ; 
You  came  from  the  yards  of  young  lacchua 

To  a  realm  of  malt  and  hops. 

You  came  with  your  pleasant  sun-made  manners 

And  a  bolder  taste  in  ties  ; 
The  South  on  your  cheek  flew  crimson  banners, 

And  her  songs  were  in  your  eyes. 

And  ever  I  dreamed,  as  sorts  of  weather 
On  weather  of  sorts  were  piled, 

This  courtesy  soon  must  reach  its  tether- 
But  ever  you  smiled  and  smiled  ; 

Flattered  our  rain-washed  air  as  bracing, 

And  London  as  gigantcsqitc  ; 
Her  streets  you  never  got  tired  of  pacing 

And  her  views  were  picturesque. 

And  I  thought  anon  of  the  morn  of  Crecy, 

And  the  hour  of  Poictiers'  field, 

And  the  slime  grew  worse  and  the  strests  were  messy, 
•  And  I  said,  "  This  man  must  yield." 

The  light  in  his  eyes — is  there  naught  can  dim  it  ? 

No  thrust  that  his  heart  can  wrench, 
And  wring  from  his  lips,  "  Your  land  's  the  limit," 

Or  whatever  that  is  in  French  ? 


I  have  it.     The  fog !  He  will  pass  some  stricture 
When  he  sees  that  ghost-filled  gloom ; 

When,  writhen  and  foul,  like  a  Futurist  picture, 
The  street  coils  into  the  room. 

And  the  fog  did  come — particular,  proper, 

And  brewed  of  the  broth  of  peas  ; 
You  could  cut  great  chunks  of  it  off  with  a  choppsr 

And  hand  it  about  like  cheese. 

It  was  horrible,  octopus-armed,  unnerving  ; 

But  I  found  you  amid  the  press 
Gay  as  a  June-tide  grig,  preserving 

Tonjours  la  politesse. 

One  might  have  thought  you  were  eating  honey 

As  the  maze  of  the  murk  you  thrid ; 
I  asked  if  you  liked  the  taste.     Oh,  sunny 

Child  of  romance,  you,  did. 

I  yielded  then ;  I  knelt  on  a  glad  knee. 

"  London,"  I  said,  "  resign  ! 
Lady  of  soot,  thou  art  Ariadne, 

And  this  is  the  lord  of  wine." 


Not  soon  shall  memory  lose  that  glitter ; 

Full  oft  when  the  vapours  crawl 
I  shall  cry  for  a  stoup  of  English  bitter 

And  drink  to  the  grace  of  Gaul. 


EVOE. 


"  From  now  till  spring  arrives  Devon  branch  lines  will  daily  carry 
40  rabbits  to  every  passenger."—  The  Standard. 

Season-ticket  holders  ought  to  be  allowed  eighty  each. 


LONDON   CIIAEIVATU. 


"YolE  IIUSD\ND'5   A.  DOCIOE,   ISS'l  HE?" 

"No,  INDEED!    Ilii 's  ix  THE  ROYAL  AHMT  MEDICAL  Conrsl" 


THE    NICE    PEOPLE. 

THIS  is  a  true  story  and  tlio  idea  of 
ifc  is  to  sliow  how  awfully  decent — but 
you  will  see  what  I  am  driving  at  as 
yon  read  on. 

I  had  special  reasons  for  ringing  up 
my  frie:;d  Burgess,  bub  I  did  not  know 
his  number.  1  knew  it  had  a  1,  a  7,  an 
8  and  a  4  in  it  somewhere,  and  was 
Mayfair;  beyond  that  I  was  misty. 
Passing  these  figures  in  review,  I 
decided  it  was  1478,  and  asked  for  that. 

A  pleasp.nt  voice  came  back,  "Hullo! " 

"  Is  that  you,  Burgess  ?  "  I  sai'l. 

"  No.  There  is  no  one  of  that  name 
here." 


[JANUARY  29,  1913. 
I  said.     "  That  you,  Bur- 


liorc. 


"  Hullo  ! 
tress?  " 

"  No." 

"  Is  Mr.  Burgess  ia  ?  " 

"  Mr.    Burgess   does   not   live 
What  number  did  you  ask  for?  " 

Again  I  apologised,  and  again  the 
ply  was  kindly:  "It's  all  right. 
Some  mistake  of  the  operator,  I  expect. 
It  doesn't  matter." 

Onco  more  I  decided  to  try,  and  this 
iimo  I  asked  for  1784. 

A  pleasant  voice  came  back, "  Hullo ! " 

"  Hullo !  "  I  said.  "  Is  that  Mr.  Bur- 
gess's number?" 

"  No,  it 's  not." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry.  The  fact  is  I  'vo 
forgotten  it." 

"Isn't  it  in  the  book?" 

"  No,  he  won't  have  it  there." 

"  What  a  nuisance !  How  very  un- 
fortunate for  you !  But  why  don't  you 
ring  up  the  enquiry  office  ?  They  '11 
tell  you." 

"  Thanks  awfully,  I  will." 

"  It 's  all  right.     Good-bye." 

Now  wasn't  that  jolly?  Not  one  of 
all  that  crowd  angry  or  even  irritated. 
All  as  nice  about  it  as  they  could  he. 

I  then  rang  up  the  office  and  found 
that  Burgess's  number  (as  I  at  once 
remembered)  is  1847. 

A  waspish  voice  came  back,  "Hullo  ! 
Who  's  there  ?  " 

"  Is  that- you,  Burgess  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course  it  is." 

"All  right,  old  chap.  It's  me — 
Harrison." 

"I  know  it  is.  Do  you  suppose  I 
can't  recognise  your  voice  ?  Why  on 
earth  haven't  you  rung  me  up  before? 
Here  have  I  been  waiting  here  for 
hours  " — and  so  forth. 

And  they  were  all  strangers,  and  this 
was  my  friend  t 


"The  members  of  the  Cabinet  aro  under- 
stood to  bo  at  present  divided  on  the  subject 
of  woman  suffrage  as  follows  :— 

For.  Against. 


"But  isn't  that  Mr.  Burgess's  tele 
phone? " 

' '  No.    What  number  d  id  you  wan  t  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  I'm  frightfully  sorry.  I've 
made  a  mistake." 

"  Never  mind.  Don't  mention  it.  It 
doesn't  matter  in  the  least." 

I  then  asked  for  1748. 

A  pleasant  voice  came  back, "  Hullo  1 " 

"  Is  that  you,  Burgess  ?  " 

"  No,  this  isn't  Burgess.  What  num- 
ber do  you  want  ?  " 

Again  I  apologised  profusely  ;  again 
the  reply  was  sympathetic.  "  Don't 
trouble.  It 's  all  right." 

1  next  asked  for  1874. 

A  pleasant  voice  came  back, "  Hullo ! " 


Sir  E.  Grey  Mr.  Asquith 

Lord  Haldano  Sir.  Churchill 

Mr.  Lloyd  George          Colonel  Seely 
Mr.  Birrcll  Mr.  Harcourt 

Lord  Morley  Mr.  Mt-Kenna 

Mr.  Rimciman  Lord  Crewo 

Mr.  McKinnon  Wood     Mr.  Herbert  Samuel 
Sir  Kufus  Isaacs  Mr.  J.  A.  IVaso 

Lord  Bcauc-harnp  Mr.  C.  Hobhouse 

Doubtful.— Mr.  Euxton,  Mr.  Burns." 
Tltc  Times,  January  23. 

It  seems  rather  a  pity  that,  with  two 
teams  so  nicely  balanced  (the  weight 
perhaps  being  slightly  in  favour  of 
the  side  on  which  Lord  HALDAXE 
figures)  they  could  not  have  settled  it 
by  a  friendly  Tug-of-War  on  the  floor 
of  the  House.  The  two  captains  could 
easily  have  tossed  for  Messrs.  BUXTOX 
and  BURNS. 


PUNCH.   OH   THE   LONDON   CIIAKIVART.- TANI-AKV  20.   1913. 


BAG-TIME   IN  THE  HOUSE. 

[Sir  EDWARD  GKEV'S  Woman  Suffrage  Amendment  produced  some  curious  partnerships.] 


JANUARY  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


87 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FTWM  THE  DIARY  OP  TOBY,  M.r.) 


LADIES'  GALLERY 

SILENCE 


ANOTHER  INJUSTICE  TO  WOMEN. 
Indignant  Chorus.  "WE'LL  SOON  ALTER  THAT  I" 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  January 
20. — MAD  HATTEK  enjoyed  rather  a 
good  day.  Most  diligent  in  attendance  ; 
always  in  his  place  when  crisis  arises. 
Ever  ready  to  take  charge  of  disturbed 
affairs  and  smooth  them  out.  Thus, 
when  just  now  in  Committee  on  Welsh 
Disestablishment  Bill  only  three  Tellers 


LOUD  BCB  throws  the  cap. 


lined  up  before  the  Mace  to  declare  , 
result  of  division,  he  rose  promptly  to 
occasion.  The  missing  link  was  BAR- 
LOW, one  of  the  Tellers  for  Opposition. 
Having  counted  his  men  it  occurred 
to  him  that  he  would  have  time  to 
take  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  buttered  bun 
before  figures  were  announced.  So 
he  trotted  off.  Meanwhile  the  other 
three  Tellers  stood,  all  forlorn,  waiting 
for  their  ranks  to  be  filled  up. 

^  Whilst  CHAIRMAN  sat 

helpless  in  this  new  dilemma 
and  Members  looked  on  in 
consternation  the  MAD  HAT- 
TER interposed,  claiming 
that  the  absent  Teller's  vote  should  not 
bo  included  in  official  return  of  division. 
CHAIRMAN  pointed  out  that  as  Tellers 
don't  vote  there  was  nothing  to  count. 
Something  of  a  poser  this;  but  the 
intention  was  good. 

Three  hours  later,  LORD  BOB,  "  hear- 
ing a  smile,"  as  did  Lord  CROSS  on  a 
historic  occasion,  administered  sharp 
rebuke  to  "  honourable  Member  oppo- 
site who  appears  to  devote  his  talents 
to  becoming  the  buffoon  of  the  House." 
No  name  mentioned;  but  the  MAD 


HATTER,  with  unerring  sagacity  as- 
suming gibe  was  directed  against  him, 
appealed  to  CHAIRMAN  for  protection 
against  such  attacks.  CHAIRMAN  sug- 
gested withdrawal. 


The  HAD  HATTEB  catches  it. 

"  Certainly,' '  said  LORD  BOB.  "  I  am 
ready  to  withdraw  if  the  honourable 
gentleman  thinks  it  offensive  to  be 
described  as  the  buffoon  of  the  House. 
I  thought  that  was  his  object." 

These  merely  incidents  in  the  day's 


68 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  29,  1913. 


round.  Great  achievement  was  vindica- 
tion  of  the  rights  of  British  citizens 
UK  > -sly  assailed  under  cover  of  the 
Simps'  Act.  According  to  his  story, 
told  in  the  ear  of  a  thronged  and  deeply 
moved  House,  there  is  a  carrier — (no, 
Sir  CHARLES  ALFRED,  not  Cripps)— 
trading  between  Bristol  and  Portishead, 
having  for  sole  retinue  a  small  hut 
hungry  boy.  For  some  time  it  has 
been  his  custom  of  an  afternoon  to 
present  largesse  to  his  escort  in  the 
form  of  "  a  penny  worth  of  biscuits  pur- 
chased at  a  refreshment  room  in  Pill." 
Avowedly  under  coercion  from  the 
Shops  Act,  the  purveyor  of  biscuits 
declines  to  trade  on  an  early-closing 
day.  arguing  that  "biscuits  are  con- 
fectionery, not  refreshments." 

And  so,  as  in  the  case  of  Mother 
Hubbard's  dog,  the  poor  boy  had  none. 

He  might,  of  course,  swallow  Pill. 
But  there  are  contingencies  which 
naturally  make  the  carrier  unwilling 
to  undertake  responsibility  of  adminis- 
tering it.  In  his  dilemma  he  brought 
the  matter  under  notice  of  the  MAD 
HATTEK,  who  left  it  in  hands  of  HOME 
SECRETARY,  with  request  that  he  "  will 
issue  a  memorandum  or  order  to  make 
it  clear  that  earners'  boys  and  other 
travellers  may  ask  for  biscuits,  even  in 
small  amounts,  without  being  refused 
on  the  plea  that  biscuits  are  only 
sweetmeats  and  not  proper  food." 

Business  done. — In  Committee  on 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill. 

Tuesday. — Great  slump  in  Silver- 
Market  GWYNNE.  In  accordance  with 
recent  habit,  spent  week-end  in  hi* 
study,  wet  towel  bound  about  his 
manly  brow,  preparing  fresh  set  of  con- 
undrums for  India  Office  about  trans- 
action in  silver  carried  through  London 
market  a  year  ago.  Question  paper 
bristled  with  them.  Not  your  ordinary 
questions  drafted  by  amateurs  like 
KiNLOCH-CooKE  or  JOHN  BEES  (late  of 
India).  Each  one  equivalent  to  argu- 
mentative speech  on  topic  to  be  handled 
only  by  a  specialist. 

This  bad  enough  had  it  stood 
alone.  Merely  preliminary  procedure. 
FINANCIAL  SECRETARY  TO  WAR  OFFICE, 
who  in  absence  of  MONTAGU  answers 
for  India  Office,  faces  ordeal  with 
commendable  courage.  Eeads  with- 
out quaver  in  his  voice  or  trembling 
in  his  limbs  matter-of-fact  answers  in 
reply  to  allegations  and  insinuations 
pointing  to  something  like  criminal 
conspiracy  on  part  of  India  Office  and 
a  City  firm  to  pocket  what  in  America 
is  known  as  "  graft."  When  he  resumes 
his  seat  up  gets  GWYNNE  with  auto- 
matic regularity  and  in  slightly  different 
phrase  repeats  conundrum. 

Hitherto  SPEAKER,  jealous  for  full 
play  of  freedom  of  speech,  has  permitted 


this  sort  of  thing.  To-day's  experience 
too  much  for  patience  whose  long- 
sufVering  sometimes  amazes  House. 
At  outset  of  G  WYNNE'S  performance 
SPEAKER  insisted  that  notice  should  be 
given  of  Supplementary  Question  pro- 
posed to  be  put. 

Eegardless  of  the  snub,  GWYNNE  put 
twelfth  question,  when  slump  alluded  to 
took  place. 

"These  Supplementary  Questions," 
said  the  SPEAKER,  "  are  all  in  the  nature 
of  arguments  suitable  for  discussion, 
but  not  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
information." 

Later,  when  PERSEVERING  PIIUE 
proposed  to  open  upon  SEELY  battery 


"PERSEVERING   PlT.IE." 

of  Supplementary  Questions,  SPEAKER, 
amid  general  cheering,  again  interposed. 

"  Complaints,"  he  said,  "  are  made 
to  me  that  the  end  of  Questions  on 
Paper  is  rarely  reached,  many  of  which 
notice  was  duly  given  being  barred  by 
number  of  Supplementary  Questions  in 
the  nature  of  argument." 

The  MEMKER  FOR  SARK,  who  has 
been  saying  this  with  perhaps  tiresome 
reiteration  through  two  sessions  that 
have  seen  unrestrained  growth  of  in- 
defensible irregularity,  naturally  grati- 
fied at  this  ruling  by  supreme  authority. 

Business  done — Still  (Welsh)  harping 
on  Church  Bill. 

Friday. — There  is  a  matter,  perhaps 
trifling  in  itself  but  strikingly  illustra- 
tive of  the  systematic  belittling  of 
Woman  by  Man,  not  alluded  to  in  to- 
day's debate  on  Suffrage  question.  On 
entering  the  Ladies'  Gallery,  whether 
with  or  without  intention  of  chaining 
themselves  to  rail,  visitors  are  con- 
fronted by  a  card  hung  in  prominent 
position.  On  it  is  printed  in  large  type 


the  word  "SILENCE!"  Why  should 
this  designedly  offensive  injunction  be 
flaunted  in  the  Ladies'  Gallery?  Im- 
mediately opposite  is  the  Strangers' 
Gallery,  whore  men  do  congregate. 
You  may  search  its  walls  and  its  ap- 
proaches in  vain  for  repetition  of  this 
command. 

"  We  '11  soon  alter  that,"  murmured 
a  section  of  the  company  crowding 
Ladies'  Gallery  this  afternoon. 

Nor  is  intention  to  snub  exhausted  by 
this  mean  device.  Withdrawing  from 
Gallery  to  Tea  Koom  at  the  hack, 
Ladies  approaching  the  fire  -  place 
observe  boldly  carved  over  the  mantel- 
piece the  brusque  command,  "  Gel 
Understanding."  It  need  hardly  be 
said  that  this  insolent  injunction, 
with  implied  suggestion  of  mental 
density  more  or  less  nearly  approaching 
imbecility,  is  reserved  exclusively  for 
womankind.  It  is  not  to  be  found 
within  sight  of  any  part  of  the  House 
whore  Members  sit,  whether  above  or 
below  the  Gangway. 

And  yet  bow  much  more  urgent  is 
necessity  in  their  case ! 

Business  done. — In  Committee  on 
Franchise  Bill  ALFRED  LYTTELTON 
moved  EDWARD  GREY'S  amendment 
deleting  the  word  "male"  defining 
persons  privileged  to  exercise  Parlia- 
mentary Franchise.  Debate  adjourned. 


"When  the  Cat's  away." 

' '  A  CONGREGATION  WITHOUT  A  PREACHER .  — 

Owing  to  the  stormy  weather  and  the  doop 
snowdrifts,  the  preacher  advertised  to  take  tho 
meeting  ill  tho  Good  Templar  Hall  last  Sun- 
day evening  was  storm-stayed.  There  was  no 
service  in  consequence. 

"A  very  successful  dance  followed,  nearly 
forty  couples  spending  a  very  pleasant  time 
under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Mills." 

The  Midlothian  Journal. 


"The  annual  dinner  will  be  held  at  tho 
Co-operative  Hall  at  7  o'clock.  Members 
should  get  their  tickets  as  soon  as  possible 
from  their  Divisional  Secretaries.  Dross, 
Uniform  without  belts." — Lincolnshire  Echo. 

A  very  thoughtful  provision.    We  wish 
them  all  a  hearty  meal. 


"  I  am  unable  to  discover  any  mechanical  or 
physiological  purpose  served  by  a  chin." — Sir 
Hay  Lemkestcr, quoted  in  ' '  Edinburgh  Eccnimj 
Dispatch." 

Dear  Sir  BAY  LANKESTER, 

Can't  you  be  simple, 
And  own  that  a  chin 
Was  made  for  a  dimple  ? 


"Following  12  degrees  of  frost  in  the  Lake 
District  snow  fell  heavily  from  the  early  morn- 
ing, and  with  a  700-miles-an-hour  south- 
easterly wind  blowing  the  drifts  of  snow  at 
Kassenthwaito  Lake  wore  five  feet  deep.  Some 
of  the  country  roads  are  impassable." 

1're^ton  Herald. 

Still,  a   1,000  h.p.  car  might  manage 
them. 


JANUARY  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


89 


SCENE. — Home  of  the  highly-paid  Child  Actor. 
Male  Phenomenon.  "Loox  HEBE,  MY  GOOD  PARENT,  I  SEE  YOU  'RE  SMOKING  ANOTHER  OF  THOSE  COSTLY  CIGARS.    MILLICENT  AND 

I   DON  T  EXPECT  OUR  HARD-EARNED   MONEY  TO   BE   SIMPLY   FRITTERED  AWAY   LIKE  THIS." 


THE    DANCE. 

WHEN   good-nights  have   been   prattled,  and  prayers 

have  been  said, 

And  the  last  little  sunbeam  is  tucked  up  in  bed, 
Then,  skirting  the  trees  on  a  carpet  of  snow, 
The  elves  and  the  fairies  come  out  in  a  row. 
Witli  a  preening  of  wings 
They  are  forming  in  rings ; 
Pirouetting  and  setting  they  cross  and  advance 
In  a  ripple  of  laughter,  and  pair  for  a  dance. 

And  it 's  oh  for  the  boom  of  the  fairy  bassoon, 
And  the  oboes  and  horns  as  they  strike  up  a  tune, 
And  the  twang  of  the  harps  and  the  s;gh  of  the  lutes, 
And  the  clash  of  the  cymbals,  the  purl  of  the  flutes; 

And  the  fiddles  sail  in 

To  the  musical  din, 

While  the  chief  all  on  tire,  with  a  flame  for  a  hand, 
Eattles  on  the  gay  measure  and  stirs  up  his  band. 

With  a  pointing  of  toes  and  a  lifting  of  wrists 

They  are  off  through  the  whirls  and  the  twirls  and  the 

twists  ; 

Thread  the  mazes  of  marvellous  figures,  and  chime 
\\  ith  a  bow  to  a  curtsey,  and  always  keep  time : 
:     All  the  gallants  and  girls 

In  their  diamonds  and  pearls, 

And  their  ^au/e  and  their  sparkles,  designed  for  a  dance 
By  the  leaders  of  fairy-land  fashion  in  France. 


But  tlte  old  lady  fairies  sit  out  by  the  trees, 
And  the  old  b>  aux  attend  them  as  pert  as  you  please. 
They  quiz  the  young  dancers  and  scorn  their  display, 
And  deny  any  grace  to  the  dance  of  to-day  ; 

"  In  Oberon's  reign," 

So  they  're  heard  to  complain, 

"  When  we  went  out  at  night  we  could  temper  our  fun 
With  some  manners  in  dancing,  but  now  there  are 
none." 

But  at  last,  though  the  music  goes  gallantly  on, 
And  the  dancers  are  none  of  them  weary  or  gone, 
When  the  gauze  is  in  rags  and  the  hair  is  awry, 
Comes  a  light  in  the  East  and  a  sudden  cock-cry. 

With  a  scurry  of  fear 

Then  they  all  disappear, 

Leaving  never  a  trace  of  their  gay  little  selves 
Or  the  winter-night  dance  of  the  fairies  and  elvea. 


Another  Rebuff  for  the  Mother  Country. 
"Hector  MacLcan,  25,  Pino  Street,  Brockville,  Ont.,  Canada,  will 
exchange  Canadian  stamps  with  any  country  but  England." 

Young  England. 

"  Although  Mr.  Wade  had  his  hair,  moustache  and  eyebrows  singed 
in  his  efforts,  it  was  found  that  the  fire  had  obtained  too  firm  a  hold 
to  be  dealt  with  in  this  way."  —  Isle  of  Wight  Herald. 

Mr.  WADE  clearly  did  his  gallant  best.    But  some  fires  are 
so  grasping. 


90 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  29,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  TURANDOT,   PltlNCESS   OP   ClIINA." 

I  FEEL  almost  certain  that  7.0  r.M. 
is  too  lato  (or  a  matinee  and  too  early 
for  an  evening  performance.  As  I  made 
my  way  to  the  St.  James's  at  this  am- 
biguous hour — an  hour  sacred  to  the 
memory  of  Boxing  Night  at  the  Lane — 
it  seemed  that  only  pantomime  could 
bo  my  natural  reward.  And  panto- 
mime it  was,  with  just  a  sad  little  echo 
of  the  old  Savoy  that  left  us  on  the 
verge  of  tears. 

In  point  of  colour  Turandot  is  a 
gorgeous  spectacle,  but  the  costumes  of 


TRYING  HARD  KOT  TO  LOSE  ins  HEAD. 
Ca'af Mr.  GODFREY  TE.VULE. 


Twandot 


Miss  EVELYN  I/ALUOY. 


the  Far  Orient— and  there  was  no 
pretence  to  confine  them  strictly  to 
Chinese  patterns,  the  noblest  of  all 
being  something  in  the  style  of  the 
Samurai— do  not  make  for  a  very  pro- 
nounced beauty  of  form.  I  am  not  sure 
that  this  kind  of  spectacular  romance, 
though  the  traditions  of  pantomine  are 
against  me,  is  not  best  conducted  in 
a  serious  vein  throughout.  We  are 
always  being  asked  to  keep  one  half  of 
our  face  fixed  in  astonished  admiration 
and  the  other  half  crinkled  with  laughter. 
I  speak  not  only  of  the  figures  of  the 
pageant,  part  beautiful,  part  grotesque, 
but  of  the  words,  which  kept  on  shifting 
from  an  atmosphere  of  passion  and 
intrigue  to  one  of  wanton  flippancy. 
Ciilaf,  for  instance,  the  successful 
suitor,  never  relaxed  from  the  key  of 
high  sentiment,  but  Turandot  was  all 
over  the  gamut. 

However,  one  is  habituated  in  panto- 
mime to  the  mixed  quality  of  the  enter- 
tainment; the  real  trouble  here  was 
the  incredible  poverty  of  the  fun.  I  am 


forced  to  entertain  one  of  two  suspicions, 
each  alike  repellent  to  me.  Either, 
when  Sir  GEORGE  ALEXANDER  witnessed 
the  performance  of  Dr.  VOLLSIOELLER'S 
play,  the  weakness  of  its  humour  escaped 
him  through  luck  of  familiarity  with  the 
language;  or  else  Mr.  JKTHRO  BITHELL, 
its  translator,  has  done  injustice  to 
the  German  version.  In  this  painful 
dilemma,  I  incline  to  the  former  theory. 

There  are  rumours,  indeed,  that  we 
have  been  spared  even  a  worse  disaster 
through  the  action  of  Messrs.  SASS  and 
NOBMAN  FOBBES  in  revising  their  parts. 
If  this  is  so,  I  assume  that  they  gave 
time  and  care  to  the  task,  though  there 
is  historical  precedent  for  improvisa- 
tion. For  Gozzi,  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  who  adapted  at  Venice  the 
old  Persian  theme,  and  introduced  from 
local  sources  the  four  alleged  comedians, 
Pantalcnc,  Tartaglia,  Briglc'.la  and 
Tniffaldino,  \vrcte  no  text  for  these 
characters,  but  trusted  to  the  actors' 
native  gift  of  gag. 

I  suppose  it  is  too  much  to  hope  that 
the  authorities  should  at  this  late 
hour  repent  themselves  and  cut  out  all 
fie  words.  The  general  verdict  seems 
tD  be  that  the  play  is  a  thing  (like  little 
children)  to  be  "seen  and  not  heard." 
But  I  am  afraid  there  are  points  in  it 
— the  riddles,  for  example — which  could 
not  be  expressed  by  dumb  show.  And 
it  is  not  only  the  humour  that  could 
bo  spared ;  for  more  rotten  riddles  it 
would  be  hard  to  imagine,  and  the  third 
of  them,  of  which  the  answer  was 
"love,"  was  the  most  unlikely  thing  in 
the  world  to  come  from  the  lips  of  so 
ruthless  a  creature  as  Turandot. 

And  what  doss  the  author  mean  by 
that  tag  of  poetry  in  which  he  speaks  of 
the  lady's  heart  as  being  "  cold  as  the 
snows  of  yesteryear  "  ?  Surely  VILLON 
would  never  have  enquired  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  les  neiges  d'antan  if  he 
hadn't  known  that  they  had  long  ago 
melted. 

As  for  the  acting,  I  don't  know  what 
wre  should  have  done  without  Miss 
EVELYN  D'ALBOY.  There  was  a  delight- 
ful piquancy  in  her  mincing  voice  and 
manner.  Mr.  GODFREY  TEABLE  was  a 
brave  figure,  but  his  personality  wai 
of  no  particular  period.  Miss  MAIRE 
O'NEILL  was  attractive  in  the  small 
part  of  Zelima.  Of  the  humorists, 
Mr.  SASS,  as  Pant  alone,  and  Mr.  FBED 
LEWIS,  as  Brighella,  came  nearest  to 
being  funny.  The  background  was 
always  effective;  but  the  stage  of  tha 
St.  James's  was  not  designed  for 
pageantry  and  seemed  badly  over- 
crowded in  the  riddle  durbars. 

I  am  sorry  not  to  foresee  a  very 
great  future  for  so  sporting  a  venture, 
unless  of  course  it  can  be  reproduced 
on  a  kinemaeolor  film. 


"Tire  HEADMASTER." 

A  four-act  comedy,  preceded  by  a 
four-act  music-drama,  makes  a  heavy 
programme-  for  a  dress  rehearsal 
iiatinto  that  begins  at  3.30,  and 
many  of  the  actors  in  the  audience  had 
to  slip  away  before  the  finish.  Critics, 
too,  with  a  First  Night  performance 
before  them  (to  which  nobody  asked 
me,  so  it  is  not  my  aS'air),  had  to 
choose  between  their  consciences  and 
their  stomachs,  and  I  can  easily  guess 
which  won. 

The  title  of  The  Headmaster  gave 
promise  of  a  school  play,  but  it  was 
largely  misleading.  The  scholastic  ele- 
ment was  little  more  than  the  incidental 
environment  of  an  ordinary  plot  turning 
upon  two  rather  commonplace  ideas 
— (1)  a  clergyman's  passion  for  prefer- 
ment, (2)  an  innocent  remark  misin- 
terpreted as  a  proposal  of  marriage. 
Complications  ensue  from  the  f.ict  that 
the  designing  widow  who  thus  entraps 
the  reverend  gentleman  is  the  very 
person  to  whom  lie  is  to  owe  his  offer  of 
preferment,  and  that  his  chance  of  a 
bishopric  is  his  chief  attraction  in  her 
eyes.  But  unfortunately  this  lady  (very 
soundly  played  by  Miss  IVOR)  is  not 
constructed  on  the  lines  of  Miss  LOTTIE 
VENNE,  but  is  large  and  domineering 
and  in  deadly  earnest — all  which  is  apt 
to  get  on  our  nerves  almost  as  much 
as  upon  those  of  her  harassed  victim. 

Hut  Mr.  CYRIL  MAUDE  as  an  absent- 
minded  Headmaster  of  the  last  genera- 
tion was  a  glorious  figure,  and  his 
scene  with  those  two  clever  school- 
boys, Masters  ERIC  KAE  and  KKXDRICK 
HUXHAM,  who  came  to  him  for  a  con- 
firmation class,  and  not,  as  lie  imagined, 
for  a  swishing,  has  never  been  bettered 
in  realistic  comedy.  All  the  others, 


THE  BBIDK  (SEI,F-)EI.ECT. 

Mrs.  Cirantley     ..     ..     Miss  FRANCES  IVOR. 
Bcv.  Cutlibert  Sanctuary    Mr.  CYRIL  MAUDE. 


JAM-ART  29.  1913.] 


1TNCII,   OR  TIIK  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


91 


too,  were  c\cellent.  from  the  Portia  ol 
Mi  i MABGEBY MAUDE, most  sweel  ami 
sympathetic,  and  her  sister  Anti<i<nir, 
nicely  played  by  little  Miss 
KATHI.KI.N'  JOXKS,  ioPallisscr  (Intntley 
(Mi-.  Aiiriiuu  Ci'KTis),  a,  perfect  prig 
of  mi  usher,  and  Mr.  JOHN  HAIIWOOD'S 
scliool  sergeant,  the  real  manager  of 
tlic  ncadi'iny.  Mr.  JACK  lloims  \\as  a 
quite  human  prefect,  in  love,  of  course, 
with  the  Headmaster's  daughter ;  and 
Mr.  GoMBEBUEBE  (..lad;  Mrulnoi),  the 
junior  master  who  won  her  heart,  had 
really  the  air  of  a  'Varsity  Blue  (a 
rare  thing  on  the  stage),  even  if  lie 
did  not  make  the  most  convincing  of 
lovers.  And  I  shall  have  left  nobody 
out  when  I  have  mentioned  the  truly 
di'raiial  performance  of  Mr.  BIBBY  as 
the  Dean  of  Carchcster. 

In  the  end  tho  play  drifted  off  into 
a  pleasant  series  of  detached  episodes, 
with  a  touch  of  serious  sentiment  which 
did  no  harm. 

It  is  a  great  pity  that  it  did  not  start 
a  month  ago  and  catch  the  school-hoy ; 
but  its  whole  atmosphere,  if  a  little 
thin  in  parts,  should  appeal  just  as 
closely  to  all  who  have  ever  been  young ; 
and  I  look  hopefully,  as  a  good  uncle 
must,  to  seeing  it  run  on  into  the 
Easter  holidays. 

Inllaarlem  thercDwell  is  a  pleasantly 
sordid  little  music-drama  for  three.  A 
young  Dutch  paasant-girl,  bored  by  her 
dull  dog  of  a  husband,  arranges  openly 
to  fly  with  her  lover,  but  changes  her 
mind  at  tho  last  moment  on  finding  a 
message  pinned  to  her  husband's  coat 
requesting  her,  before  eloping,  to  mend 
a  hole  in  it.  If  I  had  been  arranging  a 
removal  of  this  kind,  I  should  not  have 
been  put  off  by  a  thing  like  that ;  but 
of  course  it  is  a  question  of  taste. 

The  play  was  practically  wordless. 
This  did  not  trouble  the  husband,  who 
read  the  papar  at  meals  and  had  a  most 
extraordinary  gift  of  taciturnity    The 
music  and  the  action  did  nearly  all  that 
was  needed,  with  the  help  of  notices  that 
popped  up  from  the  orchestra,  saying, 
I'  Three  months'  interval,"  "  Six  months' 
interval,"  "  Two  days'  interval."      As 
usual,  the  music  took  its  own  time,  and  I 
the  action  and  what  words  there  were  ! 
had  to  wait  upon  its  convenience.    But 
it  was  impossible  to  be  discontented  so  j 
long  as  Miss  MAUGKKY  MAUDE  was  on  j 
the   stage.       She   made    an    exquisite 
picture,  and  played  with  the  very  nicest 
intelligence.  O.  S. 


CHENG    V\M    JIT   roif.   (NHWBPAPKB). 

YiV  li  n  to  inform  the  public  that  this  paper 
will  begin  publishing  on  tho  1st  of  January.  ! 
1913.     JJciiif-  ;IM  up-datr   Chinese    newspaper, 
ind  having  for  its  object  to  publish  only  \vlmt 
is  right  it  enjoys  the  largest  circulation  ever 
obtained  by  any  other  paper." 

The  Simjaixire  Fm  Z'/vw. 


"ADVANCED  GOLF." 

(With  apologies  to  JAMES  BRAID.) 


IN  A  CITY  EESTAUEANT. 

(Founded  on  Fact.) 
ALL  my  meagre  dishes  come 

Stamped  in  the  accepted  way, 
But  a  more  impressive  thumb  * 

Seems  to  mark  their  edge  to-day ; 
Waitress  of  the  beating  heart, 
You  're  a  novice  in  the  art. 

From  the  depths  you  soared  to  fame, 
From  the  kitchen,  I  '11  be  bound, 

Like  Eurydice  you  came 

Panting  from  the  underground  ; 

Orpheus  brought  her  back  to  earth ; 

You  arrive  by  solid  worth. 

She,  alas  !  did  not  remain. 

May  you  meet  a  brighter  fate  I 
When  you  find  a  trusty  swain, 

When  yon  need  no  longer  wait, 
May  you  rise  to  wealth  and  bliss:— 
Here  's  *  penny  for  you,  Miss ! 


Clearing  the  Ground. 
"  On  tho  whole  any  confidence  there  may  be 
as  to  success  seems  to  bo  upon  the  side  of  the 
opponents  of  tho  extension  of  tho  suffrage  at 
this  particular  juncture,  rather  than  upon  the 
side  of  its  opponents." — Yorkshire  Observer. 

An  anxious  correspondent,  who  has 
been  suffering  from  the  great  servant 
trouble,  writes  that  since  the  latest 
form  of  servant-hunting  has  reached 
the  point  of  advertising  to  prospective 
maids  the  attractions  of  neighbouring 
churches,  cinemas  and  barracks,  «ve 
appear  to  be  very  near  something  like 
this  :— 

House  parlourmaid  wanted  at  once  in 
the  Pytchley  country ;  mount  supplied, 
also  caps  and  aprons;  outings  on  all 
meet  days  and  Sundays ;  near  kennels. 
Splendid  mixed  shooting  and  free  choice 
of  doctor.  A  little  occasional  work  neces- 
sary, but  manicurist  kept. — Apply  • . 

Advertiser  will  send  car. 


92 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  29,  1913. 


THE  PROFESSIONAL  REMOVER. 

WHEN  first  Mrs.  Robinson  told 
Robinson  tbat  she  had  every  reason 
to  believe  that  Mrs.  Smith,  who  lived 
next  door,  was  as  anxious  to  get  to 
know  Mrs.  Eobinson  as  Mrs.  Robinson 
was  determined  not  to  get  to  know 
Mrs.  Smith,  and  warned  him  against 
any  effort  on  the  part  of  Smith  to  get 
to  know  him  in  order  to  assist  Mrs. 
Smith's  object,  Robinson  pooh-pooh'd 
the  suggestion,  as  far  as  ho  was  able 
to  follow  it.  He  promised,  however, 
to  keep  his  eyes  open  and,  doing  so,  he 
could  not  conceal  from  himself  that 
Smith's  comings  and  goings  did  seem 
to  coincide  to  a  suspicious  extent  with 
his  own.  So  he  obeyed  his  wife's 
instructions  and  avoided  him,  a  process 
which  involved  many  deviations  and 
sudden  changes  of  programme,  much 
waste  of  time  and  even  some  lies. 
Eventually  he  confessed  to  his  wife 
that  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  Smith's 
fixed  determination  to  follow  him  about 
and  force  a  meeting.  Indeed,  he  be- 
came very  incensed  about  it. 

The  climax  was  reached  in  his  barber's 
shop.  Eobinson  had  sat  there  for 
twenty  long  minutes  in  order  to  secure 
the  attention  of  his  special  artist. 
His  patience  had  just  been  rewarded, 
and  himself  wrapped  up  for  his  hair- 
cutting,  when  who  should  come  in  but 
Smith,  and  where  should  he  seat  him- 
self but  in  the  next  chair  to  Eobinson? 
The  position  was  impossible :  Eobinson 
could  not  be  crudely  offensive,  and  so, 
sweating  with  suppressed  emotion,  he 
spoke  a  reluctant "  Good  morning.  .  ." 

Later  he  vented  his  wrath  in  the 
presence  of  his  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances at  the  persistence  of  a  man  who 
followed  him  even  into  his  barber's ! 
"  I  wish  I  knew,"  he  said,  "  of  a  means 
of  removing  from  existence  those  per- 
sons, the  constant  effort  and  strain  of 
avoiding  whom  make  a  misery  of  one's 
whole  life ! " 

A  week  later  his  office-boy  announced 
that  a  man,  who  withheld  his  name 
and  otherwise  behaved  mysteriously, 
desired  to  see  Eobinson.  He  would 
not  indicate  the  nature  of  his  business; 
he  would  not  send  a  message.  He 
must  see  Robinson  and  see  him  alone. 

"  Show  him  in,"  said  Eobinson,  and 
there  appeared  a  soberly  clad,  secretive 
man  carrying  a  small  black  hand-bag. 
He  had  the  exact  appearance  of  a 
travelling  dentist,  if  there  are  such 
things. 

"  Your  name?  "  asked  Eobinson. 

"  Is  irrelevant,"  came  the  answer. 

"  Your  business  ?  " 

"  Eequires  leading  up  to. ...  Murder, 
I  submit,  is  a  practice  justly  looked 
down  on,  but  it  is  the  motive  and  not 


the  achieven>ent  that  is  so  disliked.  It 
is  the  malicious  purpose  or  the  mis- 
chievous purposelessness  of  it  tbat 
offends  against  good  taste.  A  worthy 
object  may  relieve  manslaughter  of  half 
its  blame;  a  pre-eminently  worthy 
object  may  even  popularize  it.  Take 
war,  for  instance." 

"  Don't  go  and  tell  me  tbat  you  are 
only  a  soldier,"  said  Eobinson,  with  a 
trace  of  disappointment  in  his  voice. 
"  Your  preface  had  led  me  to  hope  that 
you  were  an  assassin." 

"  I  am  the  latter,"  said  the  man.  "  I 
do  not  kill  promiscuously  in  the  service 
of  my  country.  I  kill  specifically  on 
the  commission  of  private  individuals." 

At  first  Robinson  was  inclined  to 
suspect  that  this  was  too  happy  a 
coincidence  to  be  genuine  and  to  see 
in  the  whole  affair  some  ingenious 
scheme  for  attracting  attention  to  a 
patent  medicine.  But,  observing  the 
man  closely  and  remembering  that  his 
(Robinson's)  wishes  with  regard  to 
Smith  were  known  to  others,  he  changed 
his  mind.  "  Someone,"  he  suggested, 
"  has  mentioned  my  name  to  you  ?  " 

The  man  nodded. 

"  Is  the  Removal  of  Persons  One  is 
Constantly  Having  to  Avoid  .  .  .  ?  " 

"  My  business  ?  Yes.  But,  if  you 
will  hear  me  out,  I  hope  to  disabuse 
your  mind  of  the  prejudice  you  might 
have  at  first  blush  against  my  calling." 

"  We  will  not  trouble  you,"  said 
Eobinson,  judicially,  "for  we  are  al- 
ready in  your  favour." 

The  man  gave  vent  to  a  sigh  of  relief. 
"  Then  we  may  at  once  proceed  to  the 
real  object  of  my  visit,"  he  said. 

Eobinson  smiled.  "  I  can  guess  it. 
You  are  anxious  to  exert  yourself  in 
what  I  will  call  the  case  of  Smith  and 
me?" 

"  That  is  what  I  was  proposing  to 
do,  if  you  will  excuse  me." 

"  I  will  certainly  excuse  you." 

"  And  bear  me  no  malice?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  said  Eobinson, 
raising  his  eyebrows.  "  Why  should  I?  " 

For  the  first  time  the  man  looked 
almost  surprised.  Then  he  pulled 
himself  together.  "  Why  should  you  ? 
Why,  indeed?  "  he  muttered.  "  Is  life 
as  valuable  as  all  that  ?  Then,  I  take 
it,  I  have  not  only  your  approval  but 
your  defini  e  permission  to  proceed  ?  " 

"  Not  only  my  permission,  but  my 
authority,"  said  Eobinson. 

The  man  opened  his  bag  and  dis- 
played the  instruments  of  his  craft. 
"  What  particular  means  do  you  prefer 
should  be  employed?  "  be  asked. 

"  I  leave  that  to  Smith,"  said  Eobin- 
son. "  It  is  only  fair  to  consider  his 
convenience  as  far  as  possible." 

The  man  paused.  "  Pardcn,"  he  said, 
"but  Smith  has  left  it  to  you." 


Eobinson,  frowning  a  little,  asked 
the  man  to  explain  how  Smith  came  to 
mention  the  matter. 

"  Most  certainly,"  said  the  man,  as  he 
produced  a  piece  of  rope  from  his  bag 
and  tied  Robinson  politely  but  firmly 
to  the  chair  in  which  he  sat.  "  I  thought 
you  had  understood  that  Smith  was  the 
someone  who  mentioned  your  name  to 
me.  He  has  tried,  he  says,  to  discredit 
the  suggestion  first  of  his  own  wife  and 
then  of  his  own  eyes,  and  to  believe  that 
it  was  only  coincidence  that  so  often 
brought  you  together.  That  proving 
impossible,  he  has  tired  himself  out  in 
his  efforts  to  avoid  you,  and,  however 
worrying  and  inconvenient  the  process 
has  been,  he  has,  up  to  now,  hesitated 
to  resort  to  the  extreme  measure  of 
employing  me  in  the  affair.  But,  he 
says,  the  thing  goes  too  far  when  be 
cannot  even  go  into  his  barber's  to 
be  shaved  without  finding  you  there 
waiting  for  him." 


A    PICTUEB  WITH  A  MESSAGE. 

I  PAINTED  a  picture  yesteryear 

Of  a  child  of  angel  mien 
Eesignedly  quitting  this  earthly  sphere 

Ere  he  reached  his  earliest  'teen  ; 
At  the  sight  of  this  poignant  work  of 
mine 

I  felt  that  a  heart  of  stone 
Would  add  to  the  parents'  painted  brine 

A  silent  tear  of  its  own. 

But  critical  dealers  waved  it  back, 

Nor  hesitated  to  say, 
Since  life  itself  could  be  grim  and  black, 

All  art  should  be  glad  and  gay ; 
Till  a  blight  spread  over  my  wonted 
joys 

To  tnink  I  was  like  to  be 
Saddled  for  years  with  a  "Dying  Boy's  " 

Dispiriting  company. 

So  I  added  a  maid  with  a  laughing  eye, 

Who  bade  their  grief  begone 
By  waving  a  box  of  pills  on  high 

(The  label  was  blank  thereon). 
A  pill  proprietor  called  ;  the  string 

Of  his  purse  he  quickly  loosed  ; 
I  put  in  his  name,  and  he's  had  the 
thing 

Extensively  reproduced. 


"The  Hon.  E.  S.  Montagu  left  last  night 
by  the  Punjab  Mail  for  Udaipur. 

The  Hon.  E.  S.  Montagu,  M.P.,  Under- 
secretary of  State  for  India,  left  Calcutta,  on 
Tuesday  night  for  Madras." 

The  Englishman. 

We  shall  watch  this  serial  with  interest. 


"  DRY  ROT. — Interesting  article  sent  free  to 
any  address." — Advt.  in  "  Tlie  Manchester 
Evening  Chronicle." 

We   wonder   what   they  call   the   un- 
interesting ones. 


JANUARY  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAKI. 


93 


NUT"    WITHOUT    ITS    SCREW. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

A  WORD  of  serious  warning  to  those  about  to  read  Mr. 
OLIVER  ONIONS'  latest  novel,  The  Debit  Account  (SECKER). 
Be  careful  not  to  do  as  I  did  and  miss  an  inconspicuous 
note  opposite  the  dedication,  in  which  it  is  stated  that 
"  This  novel  is  complete  in  itself,  but  the  early  history  of 
its  protagonists,  and  the  events  leading  up  to  the  situation 
with  which  the  story  opens,  are  to  be  found  in  a  previous 
book  entitled,  In  Accordance  with  the  Evidence."  If  you 
should  neglect  this,  and  if  (again  like  myself)  you  should 
be  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  know  the  earlier  book,  your 
enjoyment  will  be  marrid  by  an  exasperated  perplexity  as 
to  what  on  earth  the  characters  are  driving  at.  Not  until 
page  108  do  you  get  any  clue  to  the  special  position  of  the 
hero,  Jeffries,  with  regard  to  his  girl-wife.  Briefly  the 
explanation  is  that  lie  himself  had — for  a  good  and  sufficient 
motive,  not  to  be  set  down  here — killed  her  previous  fiance, 
and  escaped  punishment  fo*  it.  This  book  shows  how  in 
the  end  lie  does  not  escape.  It  is  a  clever  tale,  exceedingly 
well  told,  tracing  out  logically  and  truthfully  the  develop- 
ments inherent  in  the  situation  with  which  it  starts.  Mr. 
ONIONS  has  an  amazinggift  also  of  making  ordinary  things 
not  perhaps  beautiful  but  new  and  uncommon.  Whether 
he  speaks  of  setting  up  house  in  a  jerry-built  cottage  at 
Hampstead,  of  a  business-dinner  at  the  Berkeley,  or  chops 
and  tea  at  a  model  club  in  Chelsea,  he  makes  of  each  a 
thing  challenging  outside  expectation.  And  you  never 
know  what  lie  will  say  next— which  is  a  rare  and  refreshing 
stimulant.  The  Debit  Account  is  thus  certainly  a  book  for 
all  who  admire  quality  in  fiction — but  I  repeat  my  advice 
tluit  you  should  know  first  what  debt  is  being  paid. 


This  is  the  age  of  artistic  restraint.  Dramatists  are 
taking  to  the  "  quiet  curtain."  Comedians  in  farce,  in 
moments  of  embarrassment,  stand  like  statues  instead  of 
zig-zagging  about  the  stage  and  slapping  people  on  the 
back ;  and  novelists  with  a  lurid  story  to  tell  become  almost 
dry  in  their  manner.  To  this  school  belongs  Mr.  ANTHONY 
DYLLINGTON.  His  earlier  novel,  Tfie  Unseen  Thing,  had  as 
weird  and  sensational  a  theme  as  one  could  invent,  but 
his  style  and  restraint  gave  it  a  dignity  which  raised  it 
above  the  merely  lurid.  His  latest  work,  The  Stranger 
in  the  House  (WERNER  LAURIE),  belongs  to  the  same 
genre,  and  once  more  he  has  been  completely  successful 
in  avoiding  crude  sensationalism.  It  was  not  an  easy  task. 
I  wonder  what  the  manufacturers  of  the  old  three-decker 
would  have  made  out  of  the  same  material.  They  would 
certainly  have  been  fascinated  by  the  central  idea — of  an 
evil  spirit  entering  into  a  woman's  body  at  the  moment  of 
death,  as  her  soul  left  it.  And  I  seem  to  see  them  gloating 
over  "  the  Boy,"  the  idiot  heir  of  Lord  and  Lady  Brayden. 
Mr.  DYLLINGTON'S  art  carries  him  triumphantly  past  all  the 
pitfalls  of  his  story.  He  has  himself  admirably  in  hand  at 
all  times.  He  has  a  great  gift  of  condensation.  I  commend 
to  authors  who  cannot  do  without  plenty  of  elbow-room 
a  perusal  of  chapter  seven  of  this  book.  It  is  a  fifty-thousand- 
word  novel  in  sixteen  pages.  The  only  drawback  to  the 
story,  to  my  mind,  is  that  which  mars  all  novels  of  the 
supernatural,  namely  that  what  should  be  the  climax 
becomes  something  of  an  anti-climax  owing  to  the  fact  of 
the  reader's  having  adjusted  his  mind  to  contemplation  of 
the  horrible.  The  great  moment  in  all  these  stories  is 
about  half-way  through,  when  the  reader  begins  to  suspect. 
When  he  knows,  the  tension  slackens.  None  the  less  The 
Stranger  in  the  House  is  to  be  commended  highly. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY    29,    1913. 


If  two  people  are  to  lose  each  other  in  the  heart  of  London ; 
i'  all  the  efforts  of  Scotland  Yard  and  the  agony  column 
arc  to  be  of  no  avail;  if,  moreover,  to  increase  the  poignancy 
of  the  situation,  they  must  needs  live  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  each  other  in  Soho,  it  is  essential,  I  suppose,  that 
one  of  them  at  least  should  suffer  from  a  lapse  of  memory 
and  a  change  of  name.  This,  at  any  rate,  is  what  happens 
to  John  Faithful,  who  mislays  his  daughter  Marcc.lle,  in 
Chapter  I.  of  SOPHIE  COLE'S  In  Search  of  Each  Other 
(MILLS  AND  BOON).  But  if  there  is  something  a  little  too 
mechanical  about  her  plot  I  must  congratulate  the  authoress 
heartily  on  her  choice  of  characters.  The  young  gentleman 
who  extracts  teeth  in  You  Never  Can  Tell  is  a  butterfly  sort 
of  creature  at  best.  Here  we  have  a  dentist  light-hearted 
enough  when  he  chooses,  but  of  sufficient  serious  merit  to  make 
a  worthy  husband  for  a  sweet  and  spirituelle  young  girl. 
And  who  marries  John  Faithful  (for  he  is  a  widower)  when 
he  remembers  his  right  name  and  recovers  his  daughter  ? 
Who,  out  of  a  hundred  guesses,  but  one  of  those  delightful 
ladies  who  do  the  fashion  sketches  with  figures  like  the  Tower 
of  Pisa,  and  write  of  love  and  dress  and  infantile  ailments 


for  the  weekly  feminine  magazines  ? 
had  the  heart  of  one  of 
these  oracles  laid  bare 
to  me  any  more  than  I 
have  pierced  behind  the 
veil  which  shrouds 
odontological  domes- 
ticity. In  Search  of 
Each  Other  is  a  plea- 
sant if  rather  superfi- 
cial tale,  and  whatever 
one  thinks  of  it  the 
authoress  has  at  least 
resisted  the  temptation 
to  call  it  "  Behind  the 
Throne  "  or  "  Crowned 
with  Gold." 


Never  before  have  I 


on  without  one,  read  this  book.  At  any  rate  I  can  promise 
you  some  most  amusing  types  and  three  really  delightful 
urchins  of  the  true  Cockney  breed. 


Upon    my 
hardly  know 


word,    I 
what   to 


A  KEEPER  OF  THE  KING'S  PRIVY  PURSE  INTERPRETS  HIS  TITLE  LITERALLY. 


say  about  The  Friendly  Enemy  (MILLS  AND  BOON).  I  have 
no  doubt  about  my  own  feelings  in  the  matter;  I  was 
absorbed.  But  then  I  like  being  preached  at,  providing  the 
preacher  is  a  humorous  and  observant  fellow,  obsessed  by  no 
tiresome  cranks  and  free  from  prejudices  and  limitations. 
Mr.  T.  P.  CAMEBON  WILSON  is  all  that  and  more  also,  but  I 
doubt  if  he  is  sufficiently  definite  in  his  conclusions  to  appeal 
to  everybody.  He  is  an  idealist  and  a  cynic,  but  he  allows 
neither  his  idealism  nor  his  cynicism  to  blind  him  to  the 
facts  as  they  are ;  in  the  end  he  leaves  the  reader  alive  to 
many  new  and  oppressive  problems,  possessed  of  the  solu- 
tion of  none  of  them  and  uncomfortably  obscure  about  life 
and  his  proper  attitude  to  it  in  general.  There  is  no  actual 
story  in  the  book,  but  a  series  of  well-connected  and  mutu- 
ally relevant  instances.  All  are  taken  from  the  meaner 
streets  of  London  and  most  of  the  characters  are  urchins. 
A  fairy  godfather  descends  upon  these  and  takes  them  out 
of  their  squalor  into  the  fresh  clean  country,  where  one 
might  expect  them  to  thrive.  So  far  from  doing  that,  they 
find  the  country  lacking  in  something  as  essential  to  life  as 
it  is  indefinite ;  they  insist  upon  returning  to  their  squalor 
forthwith,  and  when  they  get  there  they  are  still  unsatisfied. 
Unhappily,  the  author  does  not  go  on  to  tell  us  what  to  do 
about  it.  If  you  wish  your  emotions  to  be  stirred  on  broad 
and  easy  lines,  go  elsewhere.  If  you  are  ready  to  have  your 
intelligence  exercised  while  your  sympathies  are  being  en- 
listed ;  if  you  are  prepared  to  be  left  to  form  your  own 
philosophy,  or,  having  had  your  eyes  opened,  still  to  go 


My  bristles  are  always  mildly  agitated  by  a  novel  in  which 
I  am  introduced  to  a  writer  whose  work  is  never  revealed 
to  me.  Mr.  Bravery,  in  Lot  Barrow  (SECKER),  was  a  milk- 
and-watery  young  man  who  wrote  essays.  Apart  from  the 
sympathy  which  he  entertained  for  a  maid-of-all-work,  his 
life  was  lacking  in  colour ;  I  hoped,  therefore,  that  he  was 
going  to  write  something  that  would  atone  for  his  amiable 
unimportance.  And  on  page  102  Miss  VIOLA  MEYNELL 
raises  the  cup  of  expectation  to  my  lips,  only  to  dash  it 
abruptly  to  the  ground.  "  Mr.  Bravery  sat  at  a  little  table, 
with  his  manuscript  before  him.  He  began  to  read  aloud, 
and  we  shall  hear  a  little  of  what  he  read.  But,  on  the 
whole,  no.  Those  who  wish  may  discover  it  for  themselves." 
Frankly,  I  felt  no  craving  for  this  research  work ;  and  since 
the  author  declined  to  appease  my  curiosity,  I  let  it  go,  and 
with  it  the  faint  interest  I  had  ever  felt  in  the  man. 
Throughout  this  novel,  which  has  for  its  setting  a  most 
delightfully  fragrant,  gillyflowery  farmhouse,  Miss  MEYNELL 

is  excessively  careful 
of  the  nerves  of  her 
readers.  Perhaps  that 
is  why  she  spared  us 
Mr.  Bravery's  essays. 
But  I  am  always  glad 
to  have  my  nerves 
tried,  and  though  I  can 
do  with  an  occasional 
rest  I  must  have  some- 
thing more  than  atmo- 
sphere, however  whole- 
some or  rarefied.  Lot 
Barrow  is,  in  short,  the 
kind  of  book  that  many 
people  profess  to  like, 
but  very  few  find  time 
to  read.  It  is  a  pity  that 
this  is  so,  for  great  care 


and  not  a  little  distinction  of  phrase  have  gone  to  its  making. 

The  Book  of  Woodcraft  and  Indian  Lore,  by  Mr.  ERNEST 
THOMPSON  SETON  (CONSTABLE),  ought  to  be  in  the  hands  of 
every  Boy  Scout,  and  I  would  advise  those  elders  who  put 
it  there  to  avail  themselves  of  the  rare  occasions  w-hen  it 
will  be  free,  and  dip  into  it  on  their  own  account.  A  good 
many  of  Mr.  SETON'S  preliminary  pages  are  devoted  to 
clearing  the  Eed  Indian  of  accxisations  of  cruelty,  laziness, 
uncleanliness  and  treachery  with  which  prejudice  has 
loaded  him.  This  is  a  matter  which  possibly  is  of  more 
moment  to  American  readers  (for  whom  the  book  was 
written)  than  English,  though  the  information  gathered  is 
full  of  general  interest.  One  of  the  unwritten  laws  of  Indian 
etiquette,  for  instance,  is  the  charge  :  "  Do  not  talk  to  your 
mother-in-law  at  any  time,  or  let  her  talk  to  you."  This, 
however,  is  by  the  way.  The  real  part  of  the  book  is  its 
woodcraft.  Here  is  one  of  seventeen  tests  which  the  young 
Brave  in  Mr.  SETON'S  suggested  organisation  must  pass 
in  order  to  qualify  as  a  Tried  Warrior :  "  Light  fifteen 
successive  fires  with  fifteen  matches  all  in  different  places 
and  with  wild  wood  stuff."  If  an  ordinary  smoker  could  do 
that,  there  would  be  no  more  tragedies  of  the  last  wax  vesta. 

"  Mrs.  celebrated  her  one  hundredth  birthday  yesterday.    She 

was  visited  by  her  twin  sister,  age  ninety-five." — South  Wales  Echo. 

The  absence  of  the  third  member  of  the  triplet,  an  old  lady 
of  eighty-two,  was  much  regretted. 


ITNCIf,   On   TJIK   LONDON   CHAUIVAIir. 


CHARIVARIA. 

PK.SYIXG   thai  any   member   ol 


At    i   tiro    in    Islington  last  week  a  '  seen  them  twice."     It  M  nerrs-.-n'v,  we 
Bgardless    of    the    risk,  !  are  told  by  a  patron  of  iho  Mtwio-iiallfl 

rushed   upstairs   and  


Government    would 
Snll'rage      question, 


resign     on    tlie 
Mr        ifi.i;i:r,UT 


1:1,  said  that  the-  (Jo\ 'eminent  "  had 
any  great  tasks  in  hand  to  justify 
a    ijuarrcl  upon    tliis    one  issue."     We 
We  afraid  Unit  the  Pillar  Box  Ou!  rages 
have  embittered  the  INKVNT  S\.MI:I-:I,. 


Referring  to  Mr.  BeNAB  TAW'.-, 
suggestion  that  the  veto  of  the 
KIN<;  might  ho  revived  in  order 
to  prevent  the  passing  of  the 
Home  Kule  Bill,  Mr.  JOHN 
HKDMOND  said  that  a  greater 
insult  to  tho  KINO  had  never 
boon  offered.  Mr.  REDMOND 
must  brush  up  his  Irish -history. 

The  question  whether  women 
aro  entitled  to  he  admitted  as 
solicitors  is  to  be  settled  by  ai 
Court  of  Law.  One  of  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  proposed  inno- 
vation would  be,  no  doubt,  that 
the  solicitor's  gown,  which  is  at 
present  a  thing  of  extreme 
ugliness,  would  be  bound  to  be 
brightened  up. 

-.;:     :'f 
#  •  - 

"£G,66G  REWARD  FOR  LOUD 

UAHDINGE'S  ASSAILANT," 
announces  The  Liverpool  Dai h/ 
J'ont.      And  very  often  we  leave 
our  heroes  to  starve. 

It  is  rumoured  in  Oxford  that, 
in  view  of  the  national  service 
now  being  performed  by  Mag- 
dalen College,  its  President  is 
about  to  bo  given  the  official  title 
of  "  WAHHEN  the  King-Maker." 

>|:     :|: 

The  Observer  declares  that 
"  La  Joconde  "  was  never  ab- 
ducted from  the  Louvre,  but 
that  one  of  the  official  photo- 


succeeded n  res- 
cuing his  pet  canary  from  the  flames. 
Tho  bird,  in  a  transport  of  gratitude, 
is  said  to  have  embracr-d  his  rescuer 
again  and  agai-: 

The  suggestion  made  in  the  courso  of 
an  action  last  week  that  a  sardine  is 

not    a   (is! i   but   :ui  animal,  has  caused 


eraphers  accidentally  spilt  a 
bottle  of  acid  over  her  face.  It 
is  not  impossible  that  she  may 
one  day  reappear  at  the  gallery 
under  the  title  of 


'La  Miserable." 
* 


Inspector  (to  arrested  woman).  "  WHAT'S  YOI-B  SAME?" 
Woman.  "JEST   tins  FBOO  THK   NIMES   o*  THE   CABIMCK 

MlNSTKKLS,     WILti    YER,     OLE    DEAR?       I'VE    FOBGOT   FOB  THE 
MINNIT  OO'3   HY    'USBIXG  !  " 

[According  to  the  Prcs-s  it  is  understood  that  it  is  au  agreed 
Suffragette  plan  for  women  who  are  am*  tod  to  give  tho  names 
' 


to  look  twice,   sometimes,  !n  Sco   what 
Mile.  J)I:M.YS  has  on. 

The  /o';y>/vv>  tells  us  of  a  N'(.-.v  Vork 
broker  who  fell  in  love  on  meeting  (hi 
lady  for  the  first  time  at  a  dinner  patty, 
proposed,  was  accepted,  and  in 
her  tho  next  day.  But  then,  in 
America,  marriage 'is  a  murh  shnplei 
thing.  Couples  aro  only  united 
till  Divorce  do  them  pail. 


AN    UNSOLICITED  TESTI 
MONIAL. 

Oi:n  Paris  Corresponclen t 
writes:  The  discovery  of  an 
Elixir  of  Life  by  a  famous  French 
scientist  is  by  no  means  so  recent 
a<  his  announcement  o!  it.  I 
happen  to  know  that  some 
i  fifteen  years  ago  he  prepared  at 
'  great  pains  a  bottle  of  this 
specific,  which,  however,  mys 
tei'iously  disappeared  and  was 
never  heard  of  again  until  the 
other  day,  when  an  old  woman 
living  in  a  poor  suburb  of  La 
Ville  Lumicre  confessed  to  the 
theft.  I  translate  her  statement 
into  idiomatic  English:  "I  was 
the  charwoman  who  scrubbed 
out  the  gentleman's  laboratory," 
she  said,  "and  one  night, 
feeling  something  come  over  me 
all  of  a  sudden  like,  I  went  to 
his  cupboard  and  took  out  the 
only  thing  to  drink  that  I  could 
find.  It  did  me  a  world  of  good 
at  the  time,  and  I  feel  sure  it 
must  have  been  the  stuff  there's 
so  much  talk  about  in  the 
papers,  for  when  I  took  it  I  wa-s 
only  forty-five,  and  nmv  I  urn 
sixty." 

From   a  City  Outfitter's  ad- 
vertisement : — - 

"Wo  have  only   a    small  quantity 


of  Cabinet  Ministers'  wives.      The  idea  may  spread  to  other '  of  these  gloves  and  the  price  we  offer 


types  that  come  into  collision  with  the  Police.] 


"  Or  take  Mr.  Hamilton  Hay's  '  Still 
Life,' "says  Mr.  KONODT  in  a  review 
of  the  latest  exhibition  of  rosfc-Im- 
pres.,ionist  paintings.  We  are  very 
sorry,  but  we  really  cannot. 

Eeading   that    two   Constables   had;..,  „ H  ...  ,,„  ull^,,  illliJIlululu 

n  damaged  by  a  visitor  at  the  Na-  :  specific.     And,  to  be  sure,  there  is  no 
I  tonal  Gallery,  a  dear  old  lady  remarked  '  life  like  the  present. 
that  those  assaults  on  the  police  were 
becoming  far  too  frequent.  The  obvious 
absence  of  all  intentional  malice 


no  little  satisfaction  in  sardine  circles, 
and  fishermen  report  that  since  then, 
when  passing  through  shoals  of  the 
little  fish,  they  have  heard  a  distinct 
purring  noise.  s  .,. 
"V" 

"Cn:i:n    WHII.F.   YOU    BBKATHE" 
the  headin     of  the  latest  invaluable 


- 

be  the  lady's  excuse  for  reviving  this 
ancient  pleasantry. 


'•To  dress  well,"  sa\s  Mile.  GABY 
l>Ksi,i.s  in  '/'/(,•  Royal  Magazine,  "  the 
real  gentlfitnap  always  wean  the  clothes 
which  you  do  not  see  until  you  have 


them  at  should  quickly  muko  them 
change  bauds." 

As  soon  as  they  begin  to  go  bad  you 
just  make  them  change  hands  and 
wear  them  front  side  behind. 


for  Cricklewood;  J62»  ;  4  in 
family;  no  housework  ;  no  l>asi<iitrnt;  help 
given."  —  Adrt.  in  "  Ercniny  -Vfirs." 

No  doubt  they  will  find  her  something 
to  do  in  the  garden. 

"Jumping  into  au  arabieh,  he  drove  furi- 
ous!;, to  the  British  Agency,  cxcl:iimiug,  'I 
want  to  save  I,ord  Kitchener's  soul.'  Itow- 
ever,  he  was  foiled  iu  the  attempt." 


Better  luck  next  time. 


The  Hear  East. 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  5,  1913. 


LOVE    AND    THE    MILITANTS; 

On,    HCTW    I    BECAME    AN    ANTI-SUFFRAGIST. 

I  HAD  deferred  to  speak  my  heart 

Until  tho  bloom  of  Spring  was  here, 
For  LOVE,  according  to  the  chart, 

Does  best  about  that  time  of  year  ; 
"  A  fortnight  more  of  fog  and  mud  " 

(Thus  to  iny  restive  bosom  spoke  I), 
"  Then  let  your  passion  burst  in  bud 

Contemporaneous  with  the  croci." 

But,  ere  the  mists  of  Jan.  had  gone 

(Supposed  a  barren  month  and  bare), 
Pacing  my  plot,  I  lighted  on 

Tho  flower  in  question  flaming  there ! 
I  stood  a  moment  stricken  dumb, 

Then  took  and  pulled  myself  together, 
Saying,  "  The  crucial  hour  is  come, 

Accelerated  by  the  weather  1 " 

I  wrote :  "  Dear  Lilian,  just  a  line 

To  say  I  love  you  much  the  most ; 
Will  you,  or  will  you  not,  be  mine  ? 

Please  answer  by  return  of  post. 
Say  '  Yes  '—I  live ;  or  '  No  '—I  die !  " 

Addressed  it,  duly  signed  and  dated, 
Enclosed  a  stamp  for  her  reply, 

Slipped  it  within  the  slot — and  waited. 

Two  days — and  her  response  arrived. 

It  wore  (besides  a  pungent  scent) 
The  air  of  having  just  survived 

A  chemical  experiment ; ' 
I  oped  it — every  pulse  aglow, 

My  outward  mien  remaining  placid — 
And  found  her  "  Yes  "  (or  else  her  "  No  "  ?) 

Deieted^by  corrosive  acid. 

And  'twas  a  Woman's  female  hand, 

Fingers  that  LOVE  may  once  have  pressed, 
Which  did  not  spare  (oh  shame ! )  to  brand 

His  correspondence  with  the  rest  I 
A  postal  order,  spoilt  that  way, 

I  could — and  easily — afford  her, 
But  ah  !  a  Young  Thing's  "  Yea  ".  (or  "  Nay  "  ?)- 

That  is  a  far,  far  larger  order. 

So,  while  I  bear  once  more  the  strain 

Till  four-and-eighty  hours  are  flown 
(To  wire  were  crude,  and  then,  again,  ' 

She  isn't  on  the  telephone), 
Packed  in  a  hell  not  much  above 

The  lowest  depths  explored  by  DANTE, 
A  Woman's  despite  done  to  LOVE 

Has  wrought  of  me  a  raging  Anti !  0.  S. 


Hygiene  and  Hobbles. 

"Tho  homo  trade  is  'spotty,'  and  tho  dining  departments  can 
hardly  be  doing  well ;  indeed  they  have  not  recovered  from  the 
damage  done  by  tho  ugly  tight  skirts." — Manchester  Guardian. 
Though  we  never  liked  to  say  so,  we  always  felt  that  a 
tight  skirt  might  hurt  the  "  dining  department  " — to  adopt 
our  contemporary's  graceful  phrase. 

From  a  report  in  The  Sheffield  Daily  Telegraph  of  Pro- 
fessor J.  O.  ARNOLD'S  lecture  on  Scientific  Steel  Metallurgy 
before  the  Eoyal  Institution: — 

"Since  1:386  Sheffield  steel  in  the  form  of  table  knives  had  been 
in  almost  everybody's  mouth." 
A  splendid  record  of  valour. 


TEDDY  AND    EDWIN. 

THE  statement  made  in  last  week's  British  Weekly,  that 
Mr.  I\OOSI-:VEI,T  is  about  to  undertake  a  searching  inves- 
tigation into  The  Mystery  of  Edwin  Drood,  has  naturally 
caused  profound  sensation  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

Mr.  TAFT,  who  has  been  interviewed  on  the  subject  by  a 
representative  of  The  American  Bird,  stated  as  his  opinion 
that  the  Drood  Case  clearly  called  for  international  arbitra- 
tion, but  that  the  constitution  of  the  Hague  Tribunal  was 
not  such  as  to  afford  a  guarantee  that  tho  identity  of 
Datchcry  would  be  satisfactorily  established.  For  tho 
moment,  however,  he  thought  that  the  diversion  of  the 
"Bull  Moose"  Party  into  the  paths  of  literary  mystery  was 
a  subject  for  national  rejoicing. 

Dr.  WOODROW  WILSON  has  declined  to  commit  himself 
to  any  precise  statement  as  to  the  political  significance  of 
Mr.  EOOSEVELT'S  latest  move.  Ho  observed,  however, 
that  if  it  led  him  on  to  tho  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask  or  tho 
Letters  of  Junius  the  peace  of  the  United  States  might  be 
assured  for  another  decade. 

Great  excitement  prevails  in  Rochester,  the  scene  of 
DICKENS'S  famous  romance,  in  view  of  the  rumour  that 
Mr.  ROOSEVELT  will  shortly  take  up  his  residence  in  that 
city.  At  a  public  meeting  held  last  wcsk  it  was  unanimously 
decided  to  invite  Mr.  PERCY  FITZGERALD  to  execute  a 
colossal  statue  of  the  ex-President  to  commemorate  his  visit. 
A  proposal  to  import  some  lions  and  other  big  game,  in 
order  to  furnish  Mr.  ROOSEVELT  with  relaxation  during  his 
research,  was  also  favourably  considered. 

Interviewed  by  a  representative  of  Brainy  Bits  Sir 
ROBERTSON  NICOLL  stated ;  that  negotiations  were  pending 
with  a  view  to  induce  Mr.  ROOSEVELT  to  accept  the  post 
of  Contributing  Editor  of  The  British  Weekly.  The  scheme 
would  involve  a  considerable  extension  of  the  paper,  as  it 
was  proposed  to  place  an  amount  of  space  at  Mr.  ROOSE- 
VELT'S disposal  equal  to  tlijat  allotted  to  CLAUDIUS  CLEAR. 
His  weekly  contribution  would,  it  was  hoped,'  take  the  form 
of  a  strenuous  commentary  oh  current  events  under  the 
heading  of  "  A  Cowboy's  Causerie.:" 

It  only  remains  to  be  added  that  for  the  moment  calm 
reigns  in  Oyster  Bay. 


The  Progress  of  Education. 

[Definitions  from  a  "General  Knowledge"  paper  set  at  a  Derby- 
shire school.]  - 

Sporran. — (1)  A  heathen  god;    (2)  a  track  of  country  in 
Russia. 

Boomerang. — A  monkey  that  lives  iu  the  jungle. 

Aurora  Leic/h. — An  earthquake. 

Wielding  the  icillow. — Caning. 

The  devouring  element. — (1)  The  mouth;  (2)  Insurance  Bill. 

Galaxy. — A  language  of  the  Gauls. 

Weaker  vessel. — German  warship. 

The  better  half. — Conservative. 

Carillon. — A  term  of  endearment  in  Italy. 

Liebig. — A  German  love-song. 

["  Carillon  mio,"  as  we  say  at  Covcnt  Garden,  "  trill  mo 
a  Liebig."] : 

In   a  Daily  Mirror  interview  the  following  remark  is 

attributed  to  the  Editor  of  The  Tailor  and  Cutter : — • 

"  At  this  time  of  the  year  everybody  with  the  means  and  tho  leisure 
tries  to  get  away  to  the  Riviera  for  tlie  winter  sports  in  Switzerland." 

Ah  !  but  how  few  succeed!  There  is,  of  course,  some  gocd 
ski-ing  to  be  done  on  the  Promenade  des  Anglais  at  Nice ; 
and  there  is  the  famous  ice-run  from  La  Turbie  to  the 
Casino;  but  it  isn't  Switzerland. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— 


5.   1913. 


THE   BAYARD   OF   BUKHAREST. 

ROOUNIA  (politely  to  Bulgaria).  "I    AM    SURE,    DEAR    OLD    FRIEND,    YOU    WILL    WISH    TO 
RECOMPENSE    ME    FOR    NOT    STABBING    YOU    FROM   BEHIND   IN   THE    PREVIOUS    BOUT; 
AND   I   AM   THEREFORE    PROPOSING    TO   ANTICIPATE    YOUR   KINDNESS   BY    MAKING    OFF 
WITH    YOUR    COAT." 


HOW    MILITANT    SUFFRAGETTES    ARE    MADE. 

Caddie  (to  visitor).  "  THAT 'rf  TIIK  OLD  OHKEN  TO  THIS  'OLE,  Sin.    IT  GETS  FLOODED,  BO  TirFT'vr.  GIVE  IT  TO  THE  r.rr>res!" 


THE    ROSE    BOWL. 

AN  EXCURSION  INTO  AKT. 
(In  the  manner  of  one  of  the  Critics  of 
tin-  New  Post-Impressionist  Exhibition.) 

WHAT  do  the  Public  make  of  Mr. 
Yiin  Slosh's  exquisite  "  Eose-bo\vl  and 
Hoses,"  this  masterpiece  of  truth  of  j 
tilings  as  they  arc,  and  not  as  we  see 
tlic-m?  Do  they  see  only  a  gilt  frame, 
and  thrco  or  four  irregular  rhomboids 
splashed  with  paint  ? 

Let  us  endeavour  to  explain  what  ire 
see,  in  words  that  the  coarsest  and 
crudest  of  the  savage  daubsters  and 
realists  of  old,  the  Velasquezes,  the 
Corots,  the  Meissonniers,  and  the 
Whistlers,  could  follow. 

First  we  consult  our  catalogue — this, 
alas,  is  still  necessary,  even  to  1:3,  who 
are  acolytes  of  the  new  mystery  of  Art. 
Then,  little  by  little,  very  little  by  little, 
for  wo  too  were  once  unbelievers,  it 
permits  us  to  understand. 

And  then  ?  A  mystic  and  other-world 
odour  steals  upon  our  senses — blossoms 
that  are  not,  and  never  will  be !  Marvels 
of  marvels — artistry  Satanic  and  angelic 
both  1  The  nosiness  of  the  nose,  the 
rosincss  of  the  rose,  the  bowliness  of 
the  bowl ;  and  bowl  and  roses  are  not 
there,  on  the  canvas  1 

Not  there?    Yea,    they   are    there. 


They  are  coming  through  the  fog  of  our  | 
perceptions,  as  a  barge  comes  through 
a   fog  on  the  Thames — and  they  arc 
strangely   liko   barges — four    barges — 
barges  imbedded — abreast  in  &pa*ticeio\ 
of  tidal  mud.     Yes,  we  see  them  now  ; 
and  surely  it  is  our  triumph  as  much  as 
the  master's? 

What  has  the  artist  done?  He  Jins 
shamed,  itpo'i  perishable  canvas,  the 
Sham,  Insincerity  and  Vulgarity  of 
Nature ! 

Here  arc  roses,  oh,  such  roses !  The 
roses  that  poets  have  dreamed  of,  and 
singers  have  sung  of,  and  amateur  i 
gardeners  through  all  time  have  lied 
and  boasted  of  in  the  9.1  train.  Thank 
Heaven  that  roses  like  these  do  not 
grow  on  this  earth — for  the  sob  of  their 
scent,  the  exquisite  pain  of  their  parturi- 
tion, would  bo  too  much  for  mortals  ! 

Look  at  them  closely,  now  that  you 
knotr — those  four  (or  is  it  five? — they 
do  run  together  so)  irregular  rhomboids. 
Look  at  the  passion  of  them,  the  de- 
lirium of  them,  the  disdain  of  them,  the 
supreme  a  sa fitful  a,  which  their  frag- 
rance exhales.  "  Eoses  all  the  way  " — 
the  way  that  Nature  has  missed  and 
that  Art,  which  for  ever  shrinks  from 
the  crudities  of  Nature,  has  found. 
Note  the  petals — of  course  they  are  not 
there ;  Mr.  Van  Slosh  has  outsoared 


Nature's  meticulous  details — but  note 
them  nevertheless.  Note  the  stem — it 
is  not  there;  for  the  roses  of  Mr.  Van 
Slosh  have  grown  in  the  unsupporting 
anther  of  Paradise — but  note  it  never- 
theless. Note  the  thorns!  What  joyous 
caprice  is  tin's  of  the  master,  that  the 
thorns  arc  there,  pushed  from  beneath 
the  canvas,  in  an  ecstasy  of  mockery  of 
this  Public  who  only  know  rosos  when 
they  have  pricked  their  fingers  ! 

Lastly,  note  the  bowl,  so  consummate 
in  its  utter  absence  that  one  of  the 
dear  roses  (or  rhomboids — what  does  it 
matter  ?)  has  fallen  out  of  it ;  and  the 
water,  that  should  be  in  it,  is  streaming 
instead  from  your  eyes  in  tears — or  in 
what  other  emotions  !  Ah  !  what  ? 

Never  again  will  we  look  on  real 
roses.  Never  again  will  we  lay  our 
face  on  that  harsh  texture  of  coarse 
hlowsy  petals.  Never  again  will  we 
inhale  without  nausea  that  vitiate, 
brutal  aroma.  The  very  word  "per- 
gola" is  henceforth  abhorrent. 

Hut  will— oil  will  — the  Public  ever 
understand  ? 

"Fnrrr  VHOM  TIM:  ('*>•• 

Record-sized  Tjobstor  lit  Smilhfield  Market." 
Mnivhrslcr  firming  Chronicle. 

Tin's  must  be  the  South  African  equiva- 
lent of  our  crab-apple. 


100 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  5,  1913. 


A   FLASH    OF   SUMMER. 


and  affection  ;  he  was  accustomed  to  !  indeed  is  the  splintered  bat  with  which 
give  orders  and  have  them  instantly  Mr.  G.  L.  JESSOP  made  a  triilo  of  168 
THERE  is  a  street  in  London  called  !  obeyed  ;  but  almost  anyone  could  bowl  j  against  Lancashire.  I  wish  the  date 
Cranbourn  Street,  which  serves  no  j  him  out,  and  it  is  on  record  that  those  ;  was  given  ;  I  wish  even  more  that  the 
particular  purpose  of  its  own,  but  is !  royal  hands,  so  capable  in  their  grasp  length  of  the  innings  in  minutes  was 
useful  as  leading  from  Long  Acre  and  j  of  orb  and  sceptre,  had  only  the  most  •  given.  Whether  the  splinters  were  lost 
Garrick  Street  to  the  frivolous  delights  rudimentary  and  incomplete  idea  of  j  then,  or  later,  we  should  also  bo  told. 
of  "  Hullo,  Ragtime  !"  and  serviceable  retaining  a  catch.  Such  are  human  ;  But  there  it  is,  and,  after  seeing  it,  how 
also  in  the  possession  of  a  Tube  station  limitations!  Here,  however,  in  the  |  to  get  through  these  infernal  months 
from  which  one  may  go  to  districts  of ;  Cranbouru  Street  window,  is  His  ;  of  February  and  March  and  April  and 
London  as  diverse  as  Golder's  Green  MAJESTY'S  bat,  and  even  without  the  half  May,  until  real  life  begins  again, 
and  Hammersmith.  These  to  the  accompanying  label  one  would  guess  ]  one  doesn't  know  and  can  hardly 

conjecture.  And  what  do  you 
think  is  beside  it?  Nothing  less 
than  "the  best  bat"  that  Mr. 
M.  A.  NOBLE  ever  played  with 
— the  leisurely,  watchful  Austra- 
lian master,  astute  captain, 
inspired  change-bowler  and  the 
steady,  remorseless  compiler  of 
scores  at  the  right  time.  It  is 
something  to  have  in  darkest 
February  NOBLE'S  best  bat  be- 
neath one's  eyes. 

And  lastly  (for  1  set  no 
value  upon  brand-new  bats 
covered  with  Colonial  auto- 
graphs) there  is  a  scarred  and 
discoloured  blade  which  bears 
the  brave  news  that  witli  it 
did  that  old  man  hirsute,  now 
on  great  match-days  a  land- 
mark in  the  Lord's  pavilion, 
surveying  the  turf  where  once 
he  ruled — W.  G.  himself,  no 
less! — mado  over  a  thousand 
runs.  Historic  wood  if  you 
like  ;  historic  window  ! 

No  wonder  then  that  I  scheme 
to  get  Cranbourn  Stress  into 
my  London  peregrinations.  For 
here  is  youth  renewed  and  the 
dismallest  of  winters  moment- 
arily slain. 

"  Davics  and  Chocsman  wore  con- 
tinually feeding  tho  English  threes, 
and  another  score  would  liavo  resulted 
but  for  some  heavy  talking  by 
Andre." — Football  Star. 

Poulton  (to  Coates).  "  He 's 
swearing  in  French.  I  must 
stop  and  listen." 


ordinary  eye  are  the  principal 
merits  of  Cranbourn  Street. 
But,  to  tho  eye  which  more 
minutely  discerns,  it  has  deeper 
and  finer  treasure :  it  has  a  shop 
window  with  a  little  row  of 
cricket  bats  in  it  so  discreetly 
chosen  that  they  not  only  form 
a  vivid  sketch  of  the  history  of 
the  greatest  of  games  but  enable 
anyone  standing  at  the  window 
anil  studying  them  to  defeat 
for  tire  moment  the  attack  of 
this  present  dreariest  of  winters 
and  for  a  brief  but  glorious 
space  believe  in  the  sun  again. 
And  what  of  the  treasures  ? 
Well,  to  begin  with,  the  oldest 
known  bat  is  here — a  dark  lop- 
sided club  such  as  you  see  in 
the  early  pictures  in  the  pavilion 
of  Lord's,  that  art  gallery  which 
almost  justifies  rain  during  a 
matcli,  since  it  is  only  when 
rain  falls  that  one  examines  it 
witli  any  care.  Of  this  bat 
there  is  obviously  no  history,  or 
it  would  be  written  upon  it,  and 
the  fancy  is  therefore  free  to 
place  it  in  whatever  hands  one 
will — TOM  WALKER'S,  or  BELD- 
HAM'S,  or  Lord  FREDERICK 
BEAUCLERK'S,  or  even  EICHARD 
NYREN'B  himself,  father  of  the 
first  great  eulogist  of  the  game. 
Beside  it  is  another  veteran, 
not  quite  so  old  though,  and 
approaching  in  shape  the  bat  of 
our  own  day— such  a  bat  as 
LAMBERT,  or  that  dauntless 
sportsman,  Mr.  OSBALDISTON 
("  The  Squire,"  as  he  was  known  in  the 
hunting  field),  may  have  swung  in 
famous  single-wicket 

is  even  more  of  a 
curiosity.  Nothing  less  than  the  very 
bat  which  during  his  brief  and  not  too 
glorious  cricket  career  was  employed 
to  defend  his  wicket,  if  not  actually 
the  late  KING 
he  was  PRINCE 
OP  WALES.  For  that  otherwise  accom- 
plished ruler  and  full  man  (as  the  old 
phrase  has  it)  was  never  much  of  a 


P.O.  X.  "'Ow'B  YEB  DOIN',  BOB?" 

Commish.  "Al.    THIS  'ERE  PAYS  BETTEB'N  PICTURES." 


one    of    their 
contests. 

Beside  these 


to    make    runs,    by 
EDWARD  VII.  when 


it) 

C.  B.  FRY.    He  knew  the  world  as  few 
have  known  it ;  he  commanded  respect 


that  it  was  the  property  of  no  very 
efficient  cricketer.  For  it  lacks  body ; 
no  one  who  really  knew  would  have 
borne  to  the  pitch  a  blade  so  obviously 
incapable  of  getting  the  ball  to  the 
ropes;  while  just  beneath  tho  too 
fanciful  splice  is  a  silver  plate.  Now 
all  cricketers  are  aware  that  it  is  when 
the  incoming  man  carries  a  bat  with  a 
silver  plate  on  it  that  the  scorers  (if 
ever)  feel  entitled  to  dip  below  the 
table  for  the  bottle  and  glass  and 
generally  relax  a  little. 

So  much  for  what  may  be  called  the 
freaks  of  this  fascinating  window.  Now 
for  the  facts.  A  very  striking  fact 


than 


Consummation. 

["  To  travel  hopefully  is  a  bettor  thinj 
to  arrive." — R.  L.  Stevenson."] 

SOME  philosopher  has  stated 

That  to  strive  for  things  is  vain, 
That  success  is  over-rated 

And  the  prizes  we  obtain 
Disappoint  us  when  wo  get  them  ; 
one  example  will  explain. 

Here  before  tho  mirror  shaving 
With  a  trembling  hand  and  blue, 

Well  I  recollect  the  craving, 

Little  beard,  I  had  for  you ; 

Do  I  cherish,  now  I  've  got  it,  this 

appendage  ?     Pas  (lit  tout  I 


FEBRUARY  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,    OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


101 


"HATE   TOU   SEEK  HOUNDS   PASS   THIS  WAT,    BOY?" 

"  YES,  Sir. ;    BCT  I  'it  AFHAID  THEY  AHI'T  sucKra'  TO  THE  HOAD,  SIR." 


THE  TACTFUL  TENANT. 

(A  Model  for  Flat-IhfcUers.) 

A  POND,  a  strip  of  heath,  two  lines  of  trees — 
Such  is  the  prospect  that  my  gaze  is  skimming; 

But  every  morn  there  passes,  if  you  please, 
A  girl  with  a  mauve  hat.     I  hate  tbe  trimming. 

Therefore  I  wrote  our  landlord :  "  I  am  loth 
To  seem  to  make  a  mountain  of  a  mole-hill, 

But  some  things  constitute  a  breach  of  troth : 

This  hat "  (I  sketched  the  outline)  "  makes  my  soul  ill. 

"  Others  might  dwell  upon  our  bathroom  pipe, 
Prate  of  the  patch  of  damp  that  spoils  a  coiling ; 

Others,  again,  a  crude  litigious  typo, 

Might  call  your  notice  to  the  paper's  peeling ; 

11 1  do  not.     I  am  silent.     I  forbear 

To  ask  in  what  near  pub.,  in  what  low  quarter 

Lurks  (when  we  want  the  coal  brought  up  the  stair) 
Steeped  in  eponymous  carouse,  the  porter. 

"  I  make  no  plaints,  I  roll  no  catalogue 

Of  crimes  at  No.  G.     I  calmly  swallow 
The  ululations  of  their  so-called  dog  ; 

I  brook  their  gramophone  that  baits  Apollo. 

"  The  garden  that  we  Lopsd  to  get  to  lovo, 
Used  by  the  object  of  the  strange  pretension 

I  spoke  of  in  tho  stanza  just  above 

To  hoard  his  bones  in — that  I  do  not  mention. 


"  I  merely  wish  to  harp  upon  the  view— 
The  view  that  most  of  all  things  recommended 

The  little  mansion  let  to  us  by  you, 

The  outlook  that  your  ads.  described  as  "  splendid  "- 

"  Vision  of  waters  and  of  wooded  peace, 
And  yon  tall  spire  behind  tho  beech  wood  spinneys 

(The  mouth-piece  of  the  muse  who  penned  our  lease 
Must  have  included  that— or  why  those  guineas  V). 

"  And  shall  this  harmony  that  soothes  our  cares 
By  one  appalling  hat  bo  daily  broken  ? 

You  are  responsible  for  all  repairs. 
See  to  it.     Get  it  mended.    I  have  spoken." 
*»**«* 

Strange  ending.     Now  the  decorator's  here, 
The  ape  at  No.  C  is  gagged  and  haltered, 

The  porter  drinks  less,  but  beside  the  mcro 
The  lady  with  the  hat  goes  on  unaltered. 


EVOE. 


"  MABBLE  BEEAKS  A  WINDOW. — While  a  couple  of  boys  were  plaring 
in  Aubrey  Street,  Hereford,  on  Tuesday,,  one  of  them  unintentionally 
kicked  a  marble  against  tho  window  in  the  show-rooms  of  the  Hereford 
Corporation  Gas  Department,  breaking  a  large  pane  of  plate  glass. 
The  lada,  who  live  in  the  neighbourhood,  had  been  playing  marbles." 

The  Hereford  Times  (italics  by  "Punch"). 

We  aro  very  glad  that  an  event  of  such  magnitude  and 
poignancy  should  not  have  escaped  notice  in  one  of  our 
great  provincial  organs.  At  the  same  time  we  congratulate 
our  contemporary  on  avoiding  all  catch-penny  methods  in 
its  treatment  of  the  subject.  The  restraint  shown  in 
that  brief  and  simple  reflection,  "  The  lads  had  been  playing 
marbles,"  should  be  a  lesson  to  some  of  our  London  dailies. 


102 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CnAElVARL_  [FEBRUARY  5. 


WINTER   SPORT. 

I.  —  AN  INTRODUCTION. 

"I  HAD  better  say  at  once,"  I  an- 
nounced as  I  turned  over  the  wine  list, 
"  that  I  have  come  out  here  to  enjoy 
myself,  and  enjoy  myself  I  shall.  Myra, 
what  shall  we  drink  ?  " 

"You  had  three  weeks  honeymoon 
in  October,"  complained  Thomas,  "  and 
you  're  taking  another  three  weeks  now. 
Don't  you  ever  do  any  work  ?  " 

and  I  smiled  at   each   other. 


"  What  is  the  French  for  a  pair  of 
snow-shoes?"  asked  Myra. 

"  I  pointed  to  them  in  French.  The 
undersized  Robert  I  got  at  a  bargain. 
The  man  who  hired  it  last  week  broke 
his  leg  before  his  fortnight  was  up, 
and  so  there  was  a  reduction  of  several 
centimes." 

"  I  've  been  busy  too,"  I  said.  "  I  've 
been  watching  Myra  unpack,  and  tell- 
ing her  where  not  to  put  my  things." 


I  packed  jolly  well 
accident." 


xcept  for  the 


Coming  from  Thomas,  who  spends  his 
busy  day  leaning  up  against  the  wire- 
less installation  at  the  Admiralty,  the 
remark  amused  us. 

"  We  '11  have  champagne,"  said  Myra, 

"because    it's    our  "  opening    night. 

Archie,  after  you  with  the  head-waiter." 

It  was  due  to  Dahlia,  really,  that  the 

Rabbits  were  hibernating  at  the  Hotel 

das    Angeliques,  Switzerland  (central- 

heated  throughout)  ;   for  she  had  been 

ordered  abroad,  after  an  illness,  to  pull 

herself  together  a  little,  and  her  doctor 

had  agreed  with  Archie  that  she  might 

as  well  do  it  at   a  placa  where  her 

husband   could   skate.     On   the   point 

that  Peter  should  come  and  skate  too, 

however,    Archie    was    firm.       While 

admitting  that  he  loved  his  infant  son, 

he  reminded  Dahlia  that  she  couldn't 

possibly  get  through  Calais  and  Pont- 

arlier   without    declaring    Peter,    and 

that  the  duty  on   this  class  of  goods 

was  remarkably  heavy.    Peter,  there- 

fore, was  left  behind.     He  had  an  army 

of  nurses   to  look   after   him,   and  a 

stenographer  to  take  down  his  more 

important    remarks.       With    a    daily 

bulletin  and  a  record  of  his  table-talk 

promised  her,  Dahlia  was  prepared  to 

be  content. 

As  for  Myr^and  me,  we  might  have 
hesitated  to  take  another  holiday  so 
soon,  had  it  not  been  for  a  letter  I 
received  one  morning  at  breakfast. 

"Simpson  is  going,"  I  said.  "He 
has  purchased  a  pair  of  skis." 

"  That  does  it,"  said  Myra  decisively. 
And,  gurgling  happily  to  herself,  she 
went  out  and  bought  a  camera. 

For  Thomas  I  can  find  no  excuses. 
At  a  moment  of  crisis  ho  left  his 
country's  Navy  in  jeopardy  and,  the 
Admiralty  yacht  being  otherwise  en- 
gaged, booked  a  first  return  fron 
COOK'S.  And  so  it  was  that  at  foui 
o'clock  one  day  we  arrived  together  a 
the  Hotel  des  Angeliques,  and  some 
three  hours  later  were  settling  dowi 
comfortably  to  dinner. 

"  I  've  had  a  busy  time,"  said  Archie 
"  I  've  hired  a  small  bob,  a  luge  and  a 
pair  of  skis  for  myself,  a  pair  of  snow 
shoes  and  some  skates  for  Dahlia,  a  —  a 
tricycle  horse  for  Simpson,  and  I  don' 
know  what  else.     All  in  French." 


1  An  accident  to  the  boot-oil,"  I 
explained.  "  If  I  get  down  to  my  last 
three  shirts  you  will  notice  it." 

We  stopped  eating  for  a  moment  in 
order  to  drink  Dahlia's  health.  It  was 
Dahlia's  health  which  had  sent  us 
there. 


Who 's  your  friend,  Samuel  ?  "  said 
Archie,  as  Simpson  caught  somebody's 
eye  at  another  table  and  nodded. 

"A  fellow  I  met  in  the  lift,"  said 
Simpson  casually. 

"  Samuel,  beware  of  elevator  ac- 
quaintances," said  Myra  in  her  most 


solemn  manner. 

He 's  rather  a  good  chap. 


lie  was 


at  Peterhouse  with  a  friend  of  mine, 
le  was  telling  mo  quite  a  good  story 
my  friend  gave  there 


;er-beers 
upted. 


xbout  a  '  wine 
nee,  when- 


"  Did  you  tell  him  about  your  '  gin 


at  Giggleswick  ?  "  I  inter- 


My  dear  old  chap,  ho 's  rather  a 
man  to  be  in  with.  He  knows  the 
?resident." 

'  I  thought  nobody  knew  the  Presi- 
lent  of  the  Swiss  Republic,"  said  Myra. 
Like  the  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask." 
"Not   that  President,   Myra.      The 
President    of    the '  Angeliques    Sports 
ilub." 

"  Never  heard  of  it,"  we  all  said. 

Simpson  polished  his  glasses  and 
prepared  delightedly  to  give  an  ex- 
planation. 

The  Sports  Club  runs  everything 
here,"  he  began.  "  It  gives  you  prizes 
for  fancy  costumes  and  skating  and  so 
on." 

"Introduce  me  to  the  President  at 
once,"  cooed  Myra,  patting  her  hair 
and  smoothing  down  her  frock. 

"  Even  if  you  were  the  Treasurer's 
brother,"  said  Archie,  "  you  wouldn't 
get  a  prize  for  skating,  Simpson." 

"  You  've  never  seen  him  do  a  rock- 
ing seventeen,  sideways." 

Simpson  looked  at  us  pityingly. 

"  There  's  a  lot  more  in  it  than  that," 
he  said.  "  The  President  will  introduce 
you  to  anybody.  One  might  see — er — 
somebody  one  rather  liked  the  look  of, 
and — er —  Well,  I  mean  in  an  hotel 
one  wants  to  enter  into  the  hotel  life 
and— er — meet  other  people." 


'  Who  is  she?  "  said  Myra. 

'  Anybody  you  want  to  marry  must 

submitted  to  Myra  for  approval 
first,"  I  said.  "We've  told  you  so 
several  times." 

Simpson  hastily  disclaimed  any  in- 
tention of  marrying  anybody  and  helped 
himself  lavishly  to  champagne. 

It  so  happened  that  I  was  the  first 
of  our  party  to  meet  the  President, 
an  honour  which,  perhaps,  I  hardly 
deserved.  While  Samuel  was  seeking 
tortuous  introductions  to  him  through 
friends  of  Peterhouse  friends  of  his,  the 
President  and  I  fell  into  each  other's 
arms  in  the  most  natural  way. 

It  occurred  like  this.  There  was  a 
dance  after  dinner;  and  Myra,  not 
satisfied  with  my  appearance,  sent  me 
upstairs  to  put  some  gloves  on.  (It  is 
one  of  the  penalties  of  marriage  that 
one  is  always  •  being  sent  upstairs.) 
With  my  hands  properly  shod  I  re- 
turned to  the  ball-room,  and  stood  for 
a  moment  in  a  corner  while  I  looked 
about  for  her.  Suddenly  I  heard  a 
voice  at  my  side. 

"  Do  you  want  a  partner  ?  "  it  said. 

I  turned,  and  knew  that  I  was  face 
to  face  with  the  President. 

"  Well,"  I  began — 

"You  arc  a  new-comer,  aren't  you? 
I  expect  you  don't  know  many  people. 
If  there  is  anybody  you  would  like  to 
dance  with — 

I  looked  round  the  room.  It  was 
too  good  a  chance  to  miss. 

"  I  wonder,"  I  said.  "  That  girl  over 
there — in  the  pink  frock — just  putting 
up  her  fan — 

He  almost  embraced  me. 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  your  taste,' 
he  said.  "  Excellent !  Come  with  me.' 

He  went  over  to  the  girl  in  the  pink 
frock,  I  at  his  heels. 

".Er,  may  I  introduce,"  he  said.  "  Mr 
— er — er — -yes,  this  is  Miss — er — yes 
H'r'm."  Evidently  he  didn't  know  hei 


name. 

"Thank  you,"  I  said  to  him.      Ho 
nodded  and  left  us.     I  turned  to  th 


girl  in  the  pink  frock.     She  was  very 
pretty. 

"May  I  have  this  dance?"  I  asked 
"  I  've  got  my  gloves  on,"  I  added. 

She  looked  at  me  gravely,  trying  liar 
not  to  smile. 

"You  may,"  said  Myra.        A.  A.  M 


If  s  of  the  Week. 

"If  the  kittle  of  Wellington  was  won  o: 
the  playing-fields  of  Eton." — Methodist  Timo 


To  the  Hero  who  Flew  the  Eimplon 
Did  ever  man  contrive  to  do 

So  lofty,  so  colossal  a 
Feat  as  the  champion's  who  flew 
From  Brigue  to  Domodossola? 


5,  1913.]  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


103 


THE   COSTUME-BALL   MANIA. 

(A  Hint  to  the  Impecunious.) 
How  MB.  AND  Mns.  STOOTCT  BBOWNB  BAXCI  ma  CHANGES  ON  A  N-CHI-DB  ss  AITD  SUIT  OP  r  j  MS. 


A  LADY  ASD  GENTLEMAN  OP  MEDIEVAL  TIMES. 


BLUEBEARD  AND  SINDBAD  THE  SAILOB. 


EASTEBN  NUT  AND  PEIDE  OF  THE  HABEM. 


GREAT-GIUNDPAHEXTS. 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FKBBUABT  5.  1913. 


"LAUGHTER    IN    COURT." 

Senior  Counsel .  "WHAT  THR  DICKENS  AEE  rou  TWO  FELLOWS  ur  TO?" 


Junior.    "WF.'BT!    IN    OLD    DuAr.IE's    COUBT    TO-DAY. 
AND  SAVE   FACIAL   BTRAIJf." 


BRILLIANT  IDEA  TO  WEAR  MASKS 


LITERARY  NOTES. 

WE  learn  from  the  literary  para- 
graphor  of  1'he  Daily  Chronicle  that 
Mrs.  MAIIY  GAUNT,  who  is  shortly 
starting  for  her  travels  in  Chiia,  has 
hcon  advised  by  her  brother-in-law  to 
carry  a  revolver  as  a  measure  of  self- 
defence. 

"The  thought  of  that  revolver — es- 
pecially how  she  is  to  manage  it! — 
makes  her  a  trifle  nervous,  as  she 
confessed  the  other  evening  at  a  fare- 
well dinner  which  her  publisher,  Mr. 
WERNER  LAURIE,  gave  in  her  honour 
at  the  Waldorf  Hotel." 

It  is  p!ea;aut  to  know  that  precau- 
tions of  tin's  sort  are  not  neglectr.d  by 
other  literary  Amazons  and  Strong 
i,  whose  preservation  from  harm  is 


so  enormously  important  to  their  pub- 
lishers and  readers  alike. 

Mrs.  Dalcli  tch  Glurnme,  who  is  shortly 
about  to  start  for  New  Guinea,  was 
entertained  on  Friday  night  by  her 
publishers,  Messrs.  Odder  and  Odder,  at 
a  farewell  dinner  at  the  Fitz  Hotel. 
The  length  of  her  sojourn  in  the  Island 
of  Mystery  depends  on  the  altitude  ol 
the  anthropophagous  tribes  of  the 
interior  as  well  as  the  advice  of  hei 
uncle.  Sir  Hugo  Glumme,  the  famous 
big  game  hunter.  Acting  on  his  sug- 
gestion she  lias  been  taking  lessons  in 
the  use  of  the  blow-pipe,  and  the  onlj 
contretemps  which  occurred  to  mar  the 
enjoyment  of  the  gathering  on  Friday 
was  the  inadvertent  wounding  of  the 
!  elder  Mr.  Odder  during  a  demonstration 
!  of  her  skill.  Fortunately  the  dart  was 


not  poisoned,  and  Mr.  Odder  was  able 
to  render  full  justice  to  the  exquisite 
wines  and  liqueurs  which  graced  tho 
board. 

Lady  Gladys  Strutt-Jenkinson  left 
on  Saturday  by  tho  Aurora  from  South- 
ampton. This  dauntless  sportswoman, 
as  is  well  known,  is  proceeding  to  the 
Solomon  Islands  to  collect  local  colour 
for  her  new  didactic  romance  on  tho 
marriage  laws,  and  a  select  company  of 
friends  and  admirers  were  invited  to 
meet  her  at  a  send-off  banquet  at  the 
Charlton  on  the  previous  evening  by  her 
publisher,  Mr.  Goodleigh  Champ.  On 
her  former  excursions,  Lady  Gladys  has 
relied  solely  on  the  power  of  her  eye  to 
quell  all  resistance,  whether  on  the  part 
of  natives  or  wild  animals,  but  on  this 
occasion  she  has  yielded  to  the  urgent 
request  of  her  publisher,  and  equipped 
lerself  with  a  battery  of  boomerangs. 
\fter  the  dinner,  Lady  Gladys  gave 
an  exhibition  of  her  command  of  this 
ilusivc  weapon,  in  the  course  of  which 
she  brought  down  Mr.  Goodleigh 
Uliamp,  Mr.  Tufton  Hunter,  and  tho 
lead-waiter,  in  three  shots.  As,  how- 
ever, the  boomerangs  employed  were 
richly  padded  no  untoward  conse- 
quences resulted  from  the  impact. 

Mr.  Bax  Wimbledon,  whose  new 
novel,  Crcsta,  Bobberlcy ,  will  probably 
appear  in  April,  is  one  of  those  con- 
scientious workers  who  never  write  on 
any  subject  with  which  they  are  not 
personally  and  intimately  acquainted. 
If,  for  example,  his  theme  is  Royalty, 
10  makes  a  point  of  visiting  a  crowned 
Liead.  If  it  be  winter  sports,  as  in  the 
present  case,  he  spends  at  least  a  week 
it  Montana,  Adelboden,  or  some  other 
fashionable  resort.  Last  week,  he  was 
the  principal  guest  at  a  brilliant  supper 
party  at  the  Saveloy,  given  by  his  pub- 
lisher and  friend,  Mr.  Roland  Stodger. 
A  charming  feature  of  the  evening's 
entertainment  was  the  descent  of  the 
noble  marble  staircase,  which  had  been 
treated  with  a  monster  ice  pudding, 
by  Mr.  Bax  Wimbledon  on  a  silver  tea- 
tray.  The  masterly  v/ay  in  which  he 
negotiated  the  corner  before  the  last 
flight  is  of  the  happiest  augury  for  the 
success  of  his  new  romance.  It  is 
immensely  reassuring  to  learn,  however, 
that,  acting  on  the  advice  of  his  second 
cousin.  Professor  Pyhus,  the  famous 
Alpinist,  Mr.  Bax  Wimbledon  never 
enters  a  bobsleigh  without  donning  a 
pneumatic  suit,  which  renders  the 
wearer  practically  bump-proof. 

"  Mr.  Borden  spoke  with  an  eloquence 
which  sprang  from  his  deep-seated  conviction 
of  the  pnvve  pass  which  we  have  reached, 
basins  his  proposals  upon  tho  significant 
memorandum  which  the  Almighty  had  pre- 
pared at  his  request." — Slonti'cctl  tfaiettt. 
Any  request  of  Mr.  BORDEN'S — 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  CIIATtlY ART.— FKHIH-ARY  5,  1913. 


A    PLEASURE    DEFERRED. 

"YOU'VE    CUT    MY   DANCE!"  MR.  ASQUITH.  " YES,    I    KNOW.      THE 

THE    M.C.    OBJECTED    TO    THE    PATTERN    OF    MY   WAISTCOAT,    AND    I    HAD    TO 
)ME    AND    CHANGE   IT.     BUT    I'LL   TELL   YOU    WHAT!      LET    ME    PUT   YOU    DOWN 
FOB    AN    EXTRA    AT    OUR    PRIVATE    SUBSCRIPTION    DANCE    NEXT    SEASON!" 


FKHRUARY  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


107 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

ExTiun  i •'.!>  Hi'iM  Tin:  Pi  MI Y  OF  Tonv,  51.1'.) 

Home  of  Commons,  Monday,  Jiiiinni  // 
Ii.  Tin-  Lords  were  hit  pretty  hard 
by  Parliament  Act.  Not  sure  that,  for 
the  moment,  they  do  not  even  more 
acutely  feel  snub  lately  administered. 
Through  Creator  part  of  Session,  en- 
tirely throughout  tho 
'Winter  sitting,  they 
have  been  set  on  ono 
side  whilst  the  Com- 
mons manipulated  tho 
Homo  Rule  Hill.  Un- 
dignified position  only 
b -able  in  contempla- 
tion of  certainty  that  in 
due  time  they  would 
have  their  turn,  reassert- 
ing ancient  predomin- 
ance of  partnership. 

This  the  long-looked- 
for  day.  Home  Rule 
Bill  came  up  for  second 
Heading.  Full  -  dress 
debate  arranged  with 
pleased  consciousness 
that  tho  public  would 
gratefully  turn  atten- 
tion from  the  Commons, 
concentrating  it  on  tho 
Lords.  And  this  is  the 
very  day  the  Commons 
select  for  crisis  of  their 
own,  involving  dislo- 
cation of  sessional  programme,  not  to 
speak  of  danger  to  life  of  Government. 
Thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  whilst  the 
House  of  Commons,  seething  with 
excitement,  is  crowded  from  floor  to 
topmost  bench  of  Strangers'  Gallery, 
the  House  of  Lords,  Cinderella  of  the 
domestic  establishment,  sits  apart 
neglected,  forgotten,  engaged  upon 
drudgery  of  chewing  over  again  the 
thrice-boiled  colewort  of  the  Home 
Rule  controversy. 

In  accordance  with  his  custom  of  an 
afternoon,  PRIME  MINISTER  conducted 
on  strictly  business  principles  the 
dili'minii  in  which  House  and  Govern- 
ment suddenly,  unexpectedly,  find 
themsslve?  engulfed.  In  Delphic 
utterance  the  SPEAKEB  last  Thursday 
indicated  possibility  of  withdrawal  of 
•franchise  .Bill  and  introduction  of  new 
measure  if  the  Suffragists'  amendments 
standing  on  the  Paper  should  be  carried 
in  Committee.  But  he  had  not  given 
definite  ruling,  adopting  for  personal 
guidance  PREMIER'S  famous  axiom, 
"  \Vait  and  see."  This  an  awkward 
predicament,  not  only  risking  loss  of 
valuable  time  but  investing  debate  with 
air  of  unreality.  PREMIER  adjured 
SPEAKER  straightway  to  make  more 
precise  declaration.  SPEAKER  kindly 
obliged. 


If,  he  said  in  effect,  any  one  of  the 
'  Suffragists'  amendments  were  carried, 
he  should  rule  that  this  created  necessity 
for  introduction  of  a  new  Bill. 

Very  well ;  there  an  end  of  the 
Franchise  Bill,  at  least  for  this  Session. 
PREMIER  moved  that  order  for  Com- 
mittee stage  be  withdrawn.  House 
proceeded,  as  if  nothing  particular  had 


CINDERELLA. 

happened,  to  consider  Trade  Unions 
Bill  on  Report  stage. 

Business  dom. — Franchise  Bill  aban- 
doned. 

House  of  Lords,  Tuesday. — Yesterday 
Lord  CREWE  moved  Second  Reading  of 
Home  Rule  Bill  in  spsech  whose  felici- 
tous phrasing  and  freshness  of  treat- 
ment of  stale  topic  did  not  succeed  in 


•  It  tens  our  old  friend  NAPOLEON  B.  HALDANE." 


dispersing  gloom  that  lay  low  over  the 
11  -srmbly.  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE,  in  per- 
formance, as  he  said,  of  hereditary  duty, 
moved  rejection  of  Bill.  If  you  closed 
your  eyes  and  momentarily  persuaded 
yourself  that  you  were  twenty  years 
\ounger,  you  might  have  thought  it 
wa<  the  eighth  Duke  who  was  speaking. 
Thig  afternoon  ST.  ALHWYN,  a  planet  in 
theUnionist  firmament, 
takes  up  the  wondrous 
tale,  devoting  long  and 
weighty  discourse  to 
what  ho  regards  as  "  an 
unworkable  Bill,  a 
measure  framed  not  to 
work  but  to  pass." 

"  Forty  years  ago," 
he  said, "I  was  opposed 
to  Home  Rule  for  Ire- 
land, and  I  am  equally 
opposed  to  it  to-day." 

"  There 's  the  man  for 
my  money,  such  as  it 
amounts  to,"  said  tho 
MEMBER  FOR  SARK,  his 
eyes  gleaming  with 
pleasure  as  ho  looked  on 
from  tho  pen  gallery 
above  the  Bar  lavishly 
set  apart  for  accom- 
modation of  the  Com- 
mons. "  Studying  an 
intricate  question 
through  the  changing 
courses  of  forty  years  he 
holds  the  same  opinion  as  ho  declared 
when  ISAAC  BUTT  first  preached  the 
gospel  of  Home  Rule  in  House  of 
Commons.  That's  what  I  call  true 
statesmanship.  None  of  your  living 
from  hand  to  mouth,  indignantly 
denounced  by  BONNER  LAW  fresh  from 
Ashton  and  Edinburgh." 

As  ST.  ALDWYN  developed  his  argu- 
ment, leading  up  to  this  memorable 
declaration,  the  wigged- and -gowned 
figure  on  the  Woolsack  seemed  to  be 
engaged  in  playing  a  game  of  Patience. 
On  liis  spacious  knees  was  spread  a 
heap  of  sheets  of  paper.  Taking  them 
up  one  by  one,  he,  after  glancing  over 
contents,  placed  ono  on  bench  to  left  of 
him,  another  to  the  right.  Hadn't  quite 
finished  the  game  when  ST.  ALDWYN 
resumed  his  seat.  Thereupon,  bundling 
remainder  of  the  cards  off  his  knees, 
he  stepped  two  paces  to  left  of  Wool- 
sack, and  began  to  address  the  House. 
Something  familiar  in  the  figure, 
albeit  disguised.  Something  recog- 
nisable in  the  voice,  though  on  lower 
key,  its  utterance  more  deliberate,  indi- 
cating in  subtle  fashion  consciousness 
on  part  of  speaker  that  he  was  in  church. 
Could  it  be  possible  ?  Was  it?  No — 
yes.  It  was  our  old  House  of  Com- 
mons friend,  NAPOLEON  B.  HALDANE. 
But  what  transmogrification !  What 


108 


PUNCH, 'OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[FKIUU-ARY  5,  1913. 


strange-  sea-change  Buffeted  since 
ho  was  accustomed  nightly  to  stand 
ab  Tublo  in  tho  Commons  and,  to 
the  bewilderment  of  retired  Colonels, 
set  squadrons  of  Territorials  in  the 
field.  One  thinks  regretfully  of  familiar 
spectacle  of  his  march  up  floor  of 
the  House,  with  almost  imperceptible 
twitch  of  his  left  leg  as  of  one  accus- 
tomed to  have  a  sword  swinging  from 
his  belt.  So  complete  was  illusion 
one  almost  fancied  one  heard  the  jingle 
of  spurs. 

Hidden  beneath  silken  folds  of  LORD 
CHANCELLOR'S  costly  gown  lurk  the 
manly  limbs  of  former  SECRETARY 
OF  STATE  FOB  WAR,  the  GARNOT-CUITI- 
CABDWELL  of  the  British  Army.  Van- 
ished, doubtless  flattened  out,  under 
full-bottomed  wig  is  tho  famous  lock 
of  hair  that,  curling  over  tho  massive 
brow,  instantly  recalled  the  personality 
of  another  equally  great  and  heaven- 
born  soldier. 

Perturbed  by  discovery  I  did  not 
closely  follow  drift  of  reply  to  ST. 
ALDWYN'S  damaging  criticism.  Don't 
doubt  it  was  effective.  Peace  hath 
her  victories  no  less  renowned  than 
\Yar.  Personally  I  prefer  dauntless  N. 
BONAPARTE  H ALDAN F,  in  House  of 
Commons  to  a  sleek  LORD  CHANCELLOR 
in  another  place. 

Business  done. — Second  night  of  de- 
bate on  Home  Rule  Bill.  In  the 
Commons  Welsh  Church  Disestablish- 
ment Bill  passes  Committee  stage. 

Thursday. — An  attractive  feature 
(sorely  needed)  in  dull  progress  of 
debate  concluded  to-night  has  been 
presence  of  Peeresses.  The  patience 
and  coin-ago  of  the  English  lady  in 
circumstances  of  extreme  depression 
proudly  light  up  some  of  the  dark  pages 
of  the  story  of  the  Indian  Mutiny. 
These  qualities,  in  different  degree  and 
of  course  in  widely  altered  circum- 
stances, displayed  during  progress  of  the 
four  nights'  debate  in  House  of  Lords. 
Impossible  to  imagine  any  fare  less 
attractive  to  female  appetite  than 
rfchauffi;  of  arguments  about  Home 
Mule  drearily  served  up  for  months  in  the 
House  of  Commons  and,  since  GENERAL 
CARSON,  K.C.'s,  expedition  to  Ulster, 
filling  the  papers.  But  the  Lords 
having  had  the  Bill  delivered  to  them 
solemnly  decided  to  talk  about;  it  for 
four  days  before  coming  to  foregone 
conclusion  in  Division  Lobby.  To  be 
present  at  the  debate  was  the  thing. 
The  Peeresses,  dressed  all  in  their  best, 
did  it  with  regularity  and  despatch,  the  ! 
latter  tendency  growing  irresistible ' 
after  the  first  nour's  sufferance. 

Pretty  to  see  furtive  way  in  which 
about  this  period  of  the  entertain- 
ment ladies  looked  from  right  to  loft 
of  panelled  screen  behind  them  to  see 


which  doorway  giving  exit  was  the 
nearer.  Presently  one  by  one  they  stole 
forth  with  delightfully  casual  air,  as  if 
they  weie  just  going  out  to  see  if  it  were 
raining  and  would  be  back  directly. 
They  didn't  come. 


Is  inn  P£i:r.ES3Es 

HOME  RULE  DEBATE. 

Business  done. — Lord  CREWE'S  mo* 
tion  for  Second  Heading  of  Home  Rule 
Bill  defeated  by  326  votes  against  69. 
In  bout  limited  to  three  rounds  the  first 
is  scored  to  the  Lords. 

IN   MY  ALBUM. 

(Oirner's  Preface.) 
HERE,  on  the  first  white  page 

(With  virgin  pages  blushing  under- 
neath 

Waiting  the  wit  and  wisdom  of  the  age, 
Hoping,   perhaps,   to   bear   a   floral 
wreath 

In  water-colour  art) 
I  stick  these  verses  down  to  make  a 
start. 

Here,  as  a  sage  has  said, 

"Thoughts   that    he   wishes    to    be 

thought  to  think  " 
A  man  may  write ;  and  if,  when  I  have 

read 

Your  chaste  effusions,  they  should 
strike  me  pink, 

I  promise  to  refrain 
From  any  comment  which  might  cause 
you  pain. 

Arise,  dear  friends,  and  shiiic! 

Man's  intellect  is  not  exhausted  yet, 
As  witness  this  accomplishment  of  mine. 

Moreover  (if  the  standard  I  have  set 

Appears  unduly  high), 
Your  best  is  all  I  ask  for.    Como  and  try. 


THE  GREAT  CUP  TIE. 
(/>//  our  S2)ccial  Financial  Expert.) 
FoBTT-PIYE  thousand  sporting  en- 
tluHia.sts  gathered  on  the  ground  of  the 
Blacklon  Cocks]mrs  yesterday  to  view 
the  great  cup  tie  with  Upton  United. 
All  felt  it  to  be  a  tremendous  occasion, 
for  the  Cockspurs  had  bid  no  less  than 
£1,000  to  secure  that  the  tie  should  be 
played  on  their  own  ground.  Great 
anxiety  was  felt  by  the  crowd  as  to 
whether  the  speculation  would  pay. 
When  the  news  passed  round  that 
already  £1,250  had  been  taken  at  tho 
gates  loud  cheers  were  raised.  The 
crowd  recognised  that  a  fine  sporting 
action  had  met  with  its  proper  reward. 

At  last  the  referee  (£2  2*.  and  inci- 
dental expenses)  appeared  with  the  lines- 
men (£1  Is.  and  incidental  expenses)  in 
the  centre.  Loud  cries  of  "  Mind  you 
treat  the  Cockspurs  f  air ! "  and  "Play  the 
game,  referee!"  greeted  them,  and  the 
oflicials  bowed  their  acknowledgments. 
In  a  minute  the  famous  black-and-white 
shirts  (is.  Gd.  each)  of  the  Blackton 
Cockspurs  were  seen,  and  the  vision  of 
the  team  (net  cost,  £12,000)  sent  the 
crowd  into  raptures.  First  came  Juhher 
—  the  ex-Kverton-Celtic-Biirnley- Villa 
centre  forward,  specially  purchased  for 
these  cup-ties  at  the  record  price  of 
£2,000.  His  face  beamed  with  enthu- 
siasm for  the  good  old  Coakspurs  as 
(for  the  first  time)  he  took  his  place  in 
their  team.  Then  came  Dubbs,  the 
ex  -  Derby  -  Sunderland  -  Fulham  out  -iilc 
left,  with  the  consciousness  of  his  £1,500 
transfer  fee  on  his  face.  Mugg,  the 
goalkeeper,  who  had  been  picked  up  at 
an  end  of  the  season  bargain  sale  for  a 
mere  £500,  crept  towards  his  goal, 
sensible  of  his  social  inferiority. 

"£6,000  worth  of  forwards,"  whis- 
pered thecrowd.  "They  can't  bo  beaten." 

Then  Jubber  (£2,000)  stepped  forward 
to  toss  with  the  rival  captain  (value 
nil).  He  produced  a  coin  (Id.)  from 
his  pocket,  and  the  referee  (£2  2s.  and 
incidental  expenses)  watched  it  as  it 
spun  in  the  air. 

"  Jubber 's  won,"  howled  the  crowd. 
"  Good  old  Jubber — seven  to  four  on 
the  Cockspurs ! " 

The  ball  (IDs.,  including  bladder- 
strange  that  such  mighty  issues  should 
depend  on  so  cheap  an  article)  \vas 
placed,  and  the  mounted  police  (10-s.  G<?. 
each  for  afternoon)  held  themselves  in 
readiness  to  ride  to  the  referee's  protec- 
tion, and  the  kick-off  came. 

A  moment  and  Jubber  had  posses- 
sion. £2,000  worth  of  centre  forward 
was  sailing  for  the  Upton  goal  when  a 
half-back  (born  in  Upton — no  transfer 
expenses,  therefore)  interposed  and 
kicked  the  ball  up  the  field.  Wild  cries 
of  "Order  him  off!"  and  "Play  the 


ri-:in:r.\HY  5,  1913.] 


,    Oil   Til!-:    LONDON    CHAKI  V.\  I!I. 


109 


SIGNS  ABE  NOT  WANTING  THAT  THE  FORCE  IS   USIXO   ALL  IIS   SUBTLETY  TO  COPE   WITH  THE  PILLAB-BOX  CUTBACKS. 


game,  referee!"  filled  the  air.  A  cheap 
Upton  outside-left  gathered  the  ball 
and  centred.  It  was  scrimmaged  past 
tlio  Ulackton  goalkeeper  amidst  loud 
shouts  of  "  Offside ! "  A  brilliant  charge 
by  the  mounted  police  checked  thecrowd 
when  the  referee  (£2  2s.  and  expenses) 
allowed  the  goal.  Then  everyone  said, 
"  That 's  the  worst  of  these  cheap  goal- 
keepers—if  they'd  only  paid  £3,000 
for  Wiggins  that  would  never  have 
happened."  An  impromptu  -directors' 
meeting  was  held  on  the  stand,  and 
the  secretary  (£500  per  annum)  was 
instantly  despatched  with  a  blank 
cheque  to  buy  Wiggins. 

In  the  meantime  the  £6,000  line  of 
forwards  made  ground,  but,  owing  to 
the  unsportsmanlike  conduct  of  tho 


opposing  halves,  who  charged  without ' 
the  least  regard  for  monetary  value,  the 
attack   was   beaten    off.     Jubber,   the ! 
great  Jubber,  collapsed  on   the  field. ! 
The  trainer  (£5  per  week)  rushed  out 
with  a  brandy  bottle  (4s.  6d.  net.),  but 
the  fine  fellow  did  not  rise.     He  had 
twisted  his  ankle  (value  £375).    Ambu- 
lance    men     (volunteers)     bore     him 
solemnly  from  the  field. 

"Where's  our  dividend?"  hissed  a 
shareholder  (twenty  £5  shares)  from 
the  grand  stand.  "  Kill  that  referee." 

Things  went  from  bad  to  worse. 
Dubbs  (the  £1,500  full  back)  kicked  the 
ball  through  his  own  goal  and  in  vain 
j  tho  crowd  appealed  for  offside.  So  the 
game  came  to  an  end,  though  the  chair- 
man of  the  Blackton  Cockspurs  made 


a  desperate  effort  to  save  the  situation 
by  lodging  a  protest  against  the  state 
of  the  ground  (cost  £10,000)  as  being 
too  dry  to  suit  his  team. 

The  crowd  filed  out  with  sorrowful 
faces,  though  a  few  thousand  sportsmen 
stayed  behind  to  conduct  a  referee- 
hunt  round  the  (£4,500)  pavilion. 

"  It's  a  sad  day  for  Blackton  sport," 
they  sighed.  "  Why,  if  they  'd  kept  on 
in  the  Cup  they  might  have  paid  ten 
per  cent,  this  year." 

"  The  fiict  that  tho  bow  of  the  Ulstennore 
is  pointing  to  one  quarter  of  tho  compass  and 
the  stern  to  another  is  evidence  of  tho  remark- 
able effect  of  the  wind  and  Mersey  currents." 
Belfast  News-letter. 

In  the  Thames  on  a  calm  day  you  never 
get  this  remarkable  effect. 


110 


PUNCH,   Oil  TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[FiuusuAitY  5,  1913. 


PBIDE   AND   THE   FALL. 

[The  baggage  of  Commercial  Travellers  is 
.  i-rptod  »t  a  reduced  rate  by  the  Hallway. 
(  •oiniKUiios  at  thoir  Left  Luggage  Offices.] 

LONG  ere  he  left  his  private  school 
And  came  to  man's  estate, 

His  father  said,  "  He  is  no  fool; " 
His  mother,  "  He  is  great." 

But,  when  the  Benchers  screened  his 
name 

And  called  him  to  the  Bar. 
Then  to  his  parents  he  became 

More  wise  and  greater  far. 

They  thought  the  world  of  him  and, 

lllO.'e. 

Tlio  things  they  thought  they  said ; 
No  wonder  that  the  stripling  wore 
A  slightly  swollen  head, 

And  made  a  fuss  about  his  new 

And  rather  costly  kit, 
Especially  the  hag  of  blue 

In  which  he  carried  it. 

Wlienas  lie  went  the  Circuit  round 
He  shouldered  it  with  pride, 

Though,  had  he  looked,  he  had  not 

found 
A  single  brief  inside. 

He  thought  in  his  egregious  way 

That  all  who  saw  it  had 
A  kind  of  awe,  a^  who  should  say, 

"  A  barrister,  begad  !  " 

But  Euston  has  an  office  where 
Left  goods  are  stored  and  pri/.ed, 

And  there  he  took  the  bag  and  there 
Was  disillusionized. 

"  Retain,"   said  he,  "  this   treasure, 
please, 

As  safely  as  you  can. 
It  is  no  commonplace  valise." 

"  Commercial  ?  "  said  the  man. 


THIED-SINGLE    COMBAT. 

MIND  you,  I  'm  not  done  yet ;  I  "11 
have  the  laugh  of  Herbert  Anthony  or 
perish. 

Herbert  Anthony  has,  I  'in  certain, 
grown  grey  in  the  service  of  the  Under- 
ground. Grey  he  undoubtedly  is,  hut 
far  from  rusty.  He  has  learnt  how  to 
keep  himself  from  that  by  processes 
which  I  was  to  appreciate  on  the  very 
day  of  his  arrival  at  the  booking-office 
of  rny  particular  station. 

Every  evening  as  the  clock  strikes 
live  the  pen  falls  from  my  nerveless 
fingers  and  I  hurry  to  this  station  and 
hook  to  St.  James'  Park. 

Herbert  Anthony  did  not  let  the  grass 
grow  under  his  feet.  On  Tuesday,  the 
night  of  his  first  appearance,  I  went  to 
the  window  and,  tendering  a  few  pence, 
called,  "  James'  Park." 

"  Saint  James,"  replied  Herbert  A., 
and  furnished  me. 


1  smiled;  he  smiled  back  ;  we  mutu- 
ally recognised  a  twin  spirit. 

The  subsequent  daily  engagements 
can  be  chronicled  briefly  : 
Wednesday. 

T.  "Saint  James." 

U.  A.  (laconically).  "Park." 

Thursdw/. 

I  (business-like).  "•!.  1'aik." 
//.  A.  (griggishly).  "  Saint  James,  his 
Park." 

Friday, 

I  (cohlli/),  "  St.  James." 
H.  A.  (vulgarly).  "  St.  Jas." 
OH  Saturday  I  came  to  a  decision  as 
I  walked  to  the  station  at  one  o'clock. 
Since  it  is  a  point  of  honour  that  fresli 
ground  should  be  broken  each  time  I 
felt  some  confidence  as  I  greeted  him 
warmly  with  "James." 

Frigidly  lie  replied,  "  '  Herb.'  to  in- 
timates ;  '  Mr.  Anthony  '  to  others." 

Before  these  lines  are  in  print  I  shall 
have  checkmated  him.  Let  me  outline 
it.  H.  A.  will  see  me  coming  from  afar. 
Through  his  window  1  shall  note  him 
smirking,  and  with  one  word  that  itself 
spells  victory  1  shall  smite  him  down. 
"Victoria,  "  1  shall  say. 


THE  B1HTHDAY  PRESENT. 

"  DOKS  he  smoke '.'  " 

"No." 

"Drink?" 

"  No.     \Vilfred  has  no  vices." 

"  How  boring  of  him  !  Well,  does  he 
play  golf?  You  could  get  him  a— — •" 

"Wilfred  thinks  games  are  a  fright- 
ful waste  of  time,  besides  being 
childish  and  expensive.  He  says  that 
when  we  are  married  he  hopes  I'll 
give  up  tennis  and  golf  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  go  for  '  good  long 
walks'  with  him  instead." 

"  Shall  you  ?  "  Elsa  asked  cautiously. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not !     But  till  we  're 
married,  anyway,  it's  no  good  giving 
him    games    things,   is   it  ?    Think   of  | 
something  else,  there's  a  dear." 

"  It 's  not  so  easy,"  said  Elsa,  from 
the  depths  of  an  enormous  arm-chair. 
"  If  he  doesn't  smoke — or  drink — or 
play  games — not  even  Auction?  " 

"  No  card  games  of  any  kind." 

"  Doesn't  he  ?  Exemplary  young 
mail  1  Well — bright  idea — why  not  get 
him  some  ties  ?  " 

"  He  only  wears  black  ones,"  said 
Caroline  dolefully.  "  And  black  socks 
— always." 

Elsa  threw  up  her  eyes.  "  Handker- 
chiefs, then  ?  "  she  suggested. 

"His  mother's  giving  him  those." 

"  H  'm.     Is  he  fond  of  reading  ?  " 

"  Only  SHAKSPEABE,  and  I  gave  him 
that  for  Christmas." 

"  Music  ?   Perhaps  he " 


"  I  'in  afraid  Wilfred  doesn't  care 
for  music." 

A  long  pan  so. 

"  I  honestly  can't  think  of  anything 
else,"  said  Elsa  at  last.  "  I  never  knew 
a  man  with  so  few  pursuits  or  wants. 
It's  awfully  splendid,  of  course,"  she 
added  hurriedly.  Yet  another  pause. 
"  lie  doesn't  shoot  or  lish,  I  suppose  '.'  " 

'•  Wilfred  ?  Good  heavens,  no !  Surely 
you've  read  his  pamphlet  on  '  Wanton 
Butchery  '  ?  " 

"  'Fraid  not.  Does  he  motor,  though, 
or  ride?  " 

"  Can't  afford  either." 

Another  pause,  during  which  Elsa 
poked  the.  lire  with  the  tip  of  her  shoe. 

"  Caroline,"  she  said,  when  they  had 
sat  in  silence  for  at  least  two  minutes, 
••  1  want  to  ask  you  something,  only 
I'm  afraid  of  making  you  angry." 

"  I  shan't  be,  I  promise.  Don't  mind 
asking  me  anything.  W  hat  is  it  ?  " 

"  It 's "  . 

"  Go  on." 

"It's,"  began  Elsa,  speaking  rather 
jerkily,  "why  did  you  get  engaged 
to  Wilfred?  I  mean,  what  was  the 
attraction?  " 

"  I  was  in  love  with  him." 

"  Wax  '!  " 

"  Am,  I  mean." 

Elsa  began  to  feel  extremely  awk- 
ward. "  Oh,  I  see,"  she  said  lamely. 

Another  horrid  long  silence  settled  i 
down   between    them,    bristling    with  i 
half-formed,  unspoken  sentences  ;  and 
a   curl   of   blue   smoke   rose   up   from 
Elsa's  shoe. 

At  last  Caroline  spoke.  "  I  didn't 
mean  '  am,'  "  she  said. 

"Caroline!  I  knew  you  didn't.  Why 
on  earth " 

"I   don't   know.     He    was    awfully 
clever   and — good,    you   know—  and    I  i 
was  in  love  with   him  then — 1    was, 
really.     Only — 

"  How  loiig  did  it  last  ?  " 

"  For  about  three  weeks  after  we  were 
engaged;  and  I  still  It  kit  him  most 
awfully,  and  respect  him,  and — 

"  But  think  of  spending  the  rest  of 
your  life  with  him." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't !  " 

"  Caroline,"  said  Elsa  solemnly,  "  I 
think  you  must  he  mad." 

"I  know!  I  was!  I  iuu.r.1  have 
been!  "  said  Caroline  wildly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  then  ?  " 

"1  shall  write  him  an  awfully  nice 
letter"— they  both  began  to  lau^h— 
"and  tell  him  I  don't  think  we're  really 
suited  to  each  other,  and  I  don't  feel  I 
should  be  acting  fairly  to  either  of  us 
in  marrying  him.  And  1 '11  send  him 
back  that  horrid  little  gold  brooch  he 
gave  me  for  Christmas,  and — 

"  The  very  thing  I  "  said  Elsa  ;  "  it  '11 
make  a  charming  birthday  surprise." 


FEBRUARY  5,  1913.] 


ri:XCI[,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


ill 


i.: 


Coachman  (confidentially,  Ids  mistress  Jutviny  dram  Wank  with  four  successive  calls).  "WE  'HE  rs  LUCK  TO-DAY, 


SUFFERING. 

(On  a  recent  Critical  Pronouncement.} 

"  Tin:  chief  essential  tliat  our  poets  lack 
Is  suffering  "—a  sweeping  critic  cries  ; 
I  come  to  sqiiush  this  infamous  attack; 
Let  me,  I  beg  you,  hit  tliis  person  back ; 
"  Suffering,"  bless  his  eyes — 

Why,  bards  are  born  to  suffer.     Not  a  lyra 

Was  over  kindled  into  laboured  song 
That  did  not  speak  of  anguish  long  and  diic, 
So  much  there  is  to  chill  the  poet's  fire, 
So  many  things  go  wrong. 

The  very  feet  whereby  he  seeks  to  climb, 

(Ah,  heav'n)  like  lead  restrain  him  to  the  fkt; 
As  for  the  weary  trafficking  called  rhyme, 
I  have  not  got  the  eloquence  or  time 
To  give  my  views  on  that. 

And,  when  all's  done,  after  the  stress  and  strain, 

To  cast  the  fruits  of  one's  perfected  art 
Forth  to  a  mob  who  callously  disdain 
The  treasures  wrung  from  one's  perspiring  brain, 
That's  the  most  cutting  part. 

I  could  go  on  with  this.     I  have  a  score 

Of  woes  thai,  cry  for  utterance.     But  a  bard 
Is  horn  to  suffer,  as  1  said  before ; 
And,  when  I  hear  that  what  he  wants  is  more, 
It  come.s  a  trifle  hard. 


No.     To  requite  the  poet  for  his  toils 

Ho  should  recline  among  earth's  choicest  blooms; 
His  meek  head  should  be  laved  in  precious  oils, 
His  garment  woven  of  the  costliest  spoils 
From  oriental  looms. 

Slaves  should  attend  him,  at  his  slightest  beck, 
To  bear  him  scented  sherbet  and  rich  cream; 
Jewels  should  hang  in  clusters  round  his  neck, 
Nor  any  noise  should  enter  there  to  check 
The  current  of  his  dream. 

That  is  the  treatment.     Not  to  carp  or  scoff, 

Not  to  deny  his  load,  but  make  it  light ; 
Why,  now,  a  bard  is  rarely  so  well  off 
As  to  afford  a  motor — even  golf ; 
I  do  not  call  that  right. 

And,  which  is  worse,  for  lack  of  this  refined 

(Tho1  simple)  ease  for  which  all  poets  yearn, 
You  cannot  hope  for  song  of  highest  kind  : — 
As  for  myself,  I  often  fesl  inclined 

To  drop  the  whole  concern.      Dun-Dun. 

From  A  Marriage  of  Inconvenience,  by  THOMAS  Conn: — 
"Like  Adda,  lie  had  dark  brown  hair,  with  enormous  black  cjc- 
brows,  a  moustaolio,  and  a  short  beard." 

We  always  cut  Adela's  dance. 

From  a  list  of  wedding  presents  in  The  Ecc  sham  -Journal: — 
"  Mr.  i  Mrs.  A.  E.  Baker—Curate." 

Bride  (as  she  unpacks  him).  "  My  dear,  that's  the  fifth. 
Well,  he  '11  have  to  go  with  the  others  in  the  bos-room." 


112 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  5,  1913. 


THE    FAMILY    GROUP. 

"  YOUR  views  on  politics,"  said  Franccsca,  "  are  not 
unfamiliar  to  me.  "What  I  should  really  liko  to  know  is 
whether  you  are  coming  to  London  with  us  to-morrow." 

"To  London?"  I  said.  '"Us"?  Who  are  the  '  us  '—I 
mean  which  aro  the  wo  who — that  is  to  say,  who  arc  going 
to  London  to-morrow,  and  why  ?  " 

"  I  am  going— that 's  one ;  and  Muriel  is  going — that 's 
two — 

"  Those  arc  two,"  I  murmured.  She  took  no  notice  of 
me. 

"And  Nina  is  going— that's  three;  and  Alice  and 
Frederick  are  going — that 's  five,  and  that 's  the  lot." 

"  And  quite  enough  too,"  I  said. 

"  No,"  she  said ;  "  we  want  one  more.  Let  us  at  once 
settle  the  question  of  your  coming  to  London." 

"  There  is  no  question  about  it,"  I  said.  "  It  has  long 
since  been  settled." 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  I  know  how  it  would  be.  When- 
ever I  plan  some  simple  little  pleasure  or  arrange  some 
little  amusement  in  which  we  can  all  take  part,  you  imme- 
diately decide  to  keep  out  of  it.  You  leave  us  to  ourselves. 
You  follow  your  own  selfish  enjoyments,  your  bench  of 
magistrates,  your  writing,  your  shooting,  your  hunting, 
and  you  never  seem  to  think  that  we  shall  enjoy  ourselves 
better  if  you  sometimes  join  with  us.  No,  you  just  go  on  in 
your " 

"  But,  my  dear  Francesca " 

"  Not  a  word,"  she  continued  rapidly.  "  You  can't  put 
forward  a  valid  excuse,  for  there  isn't  one." 

"  Let  me  explain,"  I  said. 

"  No,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  will  explain.  I  insist  upon  it.  When 
I  said  that  the  question  of  my  coming  to  London  had  been 
settled  long  since,  I  meant,  of  course,  that  I  had  determined 
to  come  with  you,  that  wild  horses  should  not  keep  me 
from  you,  that  with  you  I  intended  to  affront  the  motor- 
'buses  of  London — Francesca,  have  you  observed  that  there 
are  now  no  crossing-sweepers  in  London  ?  the  motor-'buses 
have  driven  them  off  the  streets.  The  last  one  retired  a 
fortnight  ago.  Ho  wore  a  red  coat  and  had  only  one  arm — 
Where  was  I?  Oh,  yes — I  mean  to  go  to  London  with 
you.  But  why  do  you  not  flush  with  joy  ?  Why  do  you 
not  fall  round  my  neck,  or  rather  fall  down  on  your  knees 
and  ask  my  pardon  for  having  failed  to  appreciate  me 
properly?  Francesca,  you  do  not  seem  duly  gratified  by 
my  decision." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said  hesitatingly,  "  I  am.  I  really  am 
delighted  to  know  you  're  coming.  How  could  I  be  other- 
wise ?  " 

"  That 's  better,"  I  said.  "  I  was  beginning  to  be  half 
afraid  that  my  desire  to  join  your  little  party  had — how 
shall  I  put  it  ? — howled  over  your  apple-cart  and  knocked 
you  off  your  perch." 

"  The  confusion  of  your  metaphors  terrifies  me,"  she 
said.  "  But  are  you  sure  you  know  why  we  are  going  to 
London  ?  " 

"Sure?"  I  said.  "Of  course  I  am.  You,  Francesca, 
are  going  to  shop.  The  three  girls  will  take  lessons  in 
shopping  from  observing  you.  Frederick  and  I  shall  stay 
outside.  We  shall  endeavour  to  keep  our  tempers,  but,  of 
course,  you  never  can  be  sure.  Men  are  so  unreasonable." 

"  You  are  quite  wrong,"  she  said. 

"  No,  no,"  I  said,  "  they  are  unreasonable.  I  have  often 
heard  you  say  so." 

"  I  was  not  referring,"  she  said,  "  to  the  unreason  of  men. 
You  have  guessed  wrong.  We  do  not  propose  to  shop. 
We  are  going  to  be  photographed." 


"  Impossible !"  I  shrieked.  "  Anything  but  that !  Buy 
yourself  a  dozen  new  hats,  a  diamond  necklace,  ten  ball- 
dresses,  a  toilet-set  in  gold — hut  don't,  don't  get  photo- 
graphed. Was  that  the  simple  little  pleasure  you  had 
planned  ?  " 

"  A  family  group,"  she  said  inexorably. 

"  What !  All  my  pretty  chickens  and  their  dam  in  one 
fell  group  1  Franccsca,  did  you  know  a  hen  could  bo  a  dam  ? 
If  you  didn't  you  have  read  your  SHAKSIT.ARE  in  vain." 

"  It  is  useless,"  she  said,  "  to  entangle  ourselves  in 
SHAKSPKARE.  The  group 's  the  thing." 

"  But  why  ?  "  I  said.     "  Who  wants  family  groups  ?  " 

"  I  am  having  it  done,"  she  said,  "  chiefly  for  Mamma. 
It  will  give  her  great  pleasure." 

"  That  lets  me  out,"  I  said.  "  Francesca,  your  mother 
would  resent  my  presence  in  a  family  group.  She  is  an 
admirable  woman,  but  she  has  never  realised  my  signifi- 
cance. When  she  thinks  of  the  family  she  thinks  of  you 
and  the  children.  She  would  hate  to  be  reminded  that  the 
children  have  a  father  or  that  you  have  a  husband — no, 
I  do  not  mean  that.  You  must  forgive  me,  but  your 
announcement  has  thoroughly  unmanned  me." 

"  You  haven't  had  one  done  for  a  long  time." 

"  I  cannot  face  the  critical  eye  of  the  photographer.  All 
photographers  have  been  scornful  of  my  nose  or  my  chin 
or  my  hair.  They  have  never  said  so,  but  I  have  felt  it, 
and  I  have  shrivelled  up  in  consequence.  As  you  value 
my  self-respect,  Francesca,  do  not  take  me  to  the  photo- 
grapher." 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  you  had  better  make  an-  effort  and 
come." 

"  I  shall  spoil  the  group,"  I  said.  "  I  am  the  worst 
group-spoiler  in  England." 

"  You  needn't  get  photographed  unless  you  like,"  she 
said.     "  You  can  help  in  keeping  the  children  cheerful." 
E.  C.  L. 

IN  THE  BEGINNING. 

["  Salmon  fishing  has  now  commenced  on  many  Northern  rivers." 

Daily  Paper.] 

ERE  the  season  turns  and  the  crocus  burns 

Her  torch  at  the  flame  of  Spring, 
We  dream  of  lines  of  muttering  pines 

On  banks  that  roar  and  ring ; 
And — wild  and  black — of  a  foam-flecked  wrack 

That  the  sea-run  salmon  knows, 
Who  has  won  his  girth  and  his  warrior  worth 

Where  the  humpback  whale-school  blows ! 

The  stream  runs  deep  and  the  hill-showers  sweep, 

And  the  tops  in  white  are  tricked ; 
His  scales  they  shine  of  the  ice-cold  brine 

And  his  tail  is  tide-lice  ticked ; 
And  I  would  wish  for  a  big  cock  fish 

And  a  combat  fast  and  grim, 
And  for  half-an-hour  of  his  fighting  power 

And  the  rod  that 's  bent  in  him ! 

Now  whether  we  reach  his  ringing  beach 

And  look  on  his  burnished  mail, 
When  it 's  give  and  take  till  the  surface  break 

In  the  swirls  of  a  huge  spent  tail, 
Till  he  bulks  and  rolls  where  the  shingle  shoals, 

The  gods  themselves  may  know, 
But  by  every  god  of  a  reel  or  rod, 

At  least  we  have  dreamt  it  so  1 


At  Last ! 

'  DEPARTURE  OF  GENERAL  JUSTOFP." — Westminster  Gazette. 


FEBRUARY  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CIIAK1VARI. 


113 


OiKltcr  of  newly-purchased  and  somewhat  worn  Uuntcr  (to  chauffeur  whom  he  finds  inspecting  him).  "  WELL,  WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OP 
HIM?" 

Chauffeur  (modestly).  "  WELL,  SIR,  I  DOS'T  KNOW  MUCH  ABOUT  THEM  THINGS,  BUT  IT  APPEARS  TO  ME  AS  'ow  THAT  'a  ITS  DEBT 

LEO." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
XUUOOY  admires  the  art  or  the  sincerity  of  Mr.  HENBY 
ARTHUR  JONES  more  than  I  do.  I  still  remember  with 
gratitude  the  evening  when  a  performance  of  The  Masquer- 
atlurs  by  a  touring  company  made  so  strong  an  impression 
upon  a  susceptible  schoolboy  that  he  left  the  theatre  deter- 
mined to  live  a  nobler  life,  and  one  devoted  to  the  com  position 
of  plays  as  much  like  that  masterpiece  as  possible.  But  in 
spite  of  this  I  cannot  but  think  that  a  shorter  volume  than 
Tlie  Foundations  of  a  National  Drama  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL) 
•would  have  served  its  author's  purpose  better.  Several  of 
the  papers  it  contains,  written  at  various  dates  from  1896 
onwards,  have  now  only  an  archaeological  appeal.  The 
English  Drama  has  done  considerable  hustling  in  the  past 
seventeen  years,  and  meditations  upon  its  progress  are  apt 
quickly  to  become  out  of  date.  Clearly  Mr.  JONES  antici- 
pated that  objection,  from  the  not  quite  easy  tone  of  bis 
<\  To  me  the  most  interesting  things  in  the  book 
are  the  review  of  "  The  Drama  in  the  English  Provinces  " 
(first  published  in  1901,  and  here  contrasted  witli  a  paper 
on  the  same  subject  in  1912),  and  three  papers  on  the 
cen  iv  ship,  in  which  the  case  for  its  abolition  is  put  forward 
vyiih  a  great  deal  of  vigour.  To  those  who  cannot  find 
tune  lor  the  whole  of  this  massive  volume  I  would  oiler 
Hie  advice  that  they  should  conlino  themselves  to  the 
portions  I  have  mentioned,  and  to  the  Preface,  of  which 


the  personal  note  promises  to  arouse  attention  and  perhaps 
controversy.     I  hope  it  will. 


In  his  scholarly  introduction  to  The  Windliam  Papers 
(JENKINS)  Lord  KOSEBERY  follows  MACAULAY'S  lead  in 
describing  WINDHAM  as  the  finest  English  gentleman  of  his 
day  and  perhaps  of  all  time.  That,  I  think,  is  overdoing  it. 
For,  to  take  one  little  test-case,  surely  the  finest  English 
gentleman  that  ever  was  would  have  been  able  to  appreciate 
The  Vicar  of  Wakejield,  which  WINDHAM  did  not.  Then 
again  he  looked  upon  WARREN  HASTINGS,  when  lie  was 
assisting  in  his  impeachment,  as  the  vilest  of  criminals,  and 
in  the  House  of  Commons  objected  with  some  bitterness  to 
the  proposed  bestowal  of  funeral  honours  on  PITT.  In  each 
of  these  cases  he  sesms  to  me  to  have  gone  rather  near  hittirg 
a  man  when  be  was  down,  which  may  be  gentlemanly 
but  is  not  commonly  supposed  to  be  English.  On  the 
other  band,  ho  M'as  swished,  as  an  Eton  boy,  for  going 
out  of  bounds;  he  was  a  very  bad  man  of  business — I  like 
him  for  that ;  and  everybody  loved  him.  And  they  loved 
him  for  himself,  and  not  only  because  he  was  a  brilliant 
writer  and  scholar,  and  the  most  fascinating  talker  cf  bis 
time.  He  was  tlie  friend,  and  in  many  respects  the  equal, 
of  nearly  all  the  great  men  of  the  exciting  days  in  which  he 
lived,  and  bis  letters  from  and  to  PITT,  Fox,  BURKE, 
CANNING,  NELSON,  COBBETT,  Dr.  JOHNSON  and  the  rest, 
certainly  show  him  in  a  very  agreeable  light  as  a  most 
attractive  personality.  Altogether,  for  their  personal  as 


li! 


PUNCH,    Oil    THK    LONDON    CIIAKIVAIU.  [FEBRUARY  5,  1913. 


well  as  their  historical  inl-.-ivsl,  we  ougbl  to  he  grateful  to 
the  anonymous  editor  for  having  dug  the;e  papt-rs  and 
letters  out  of  tlie  British  Mineum  and  els  -where.  .But  he 
nii^lit  with  advantage  have  left  some  of  them  out  -for  the 
book  is  too  long— and  substituted  something  more  solid  in 


the  way  of  a  connecting  narrative, 
history  with   remarkable   ease. 


our 


For  most  of  us  forget 
Did    you   know,    for 

'-'*•*  i»»*^"-*-"-J          ••"-•  •  "»  if  *        *      l  C 

instance,  that  WINDHAM  was  a  member  of  (lie  Ministry  Of 
All  the  Talents,  or  that  lie  was  a  supporter  of  boll-baiting  ? 
Jc  in' en  doitlf. 


In  The  Terrors  and  Other  Stories  ( 


Mr.  Ancm- 


BALD  MARSHALL  has  gathered  the  pick  of  the  short  stories 
wiitten  by  him  during  the  past  sixteen  years.  I  may  say 
at  once  that  the  collection  is  a  most  agreeable  one.  Those 
renders  who  have  enjoyed  Exlon  Manor,  The  Squire's, 
Daughter  and  Tlic  Eldest  Son,  and  have  liked  their  MAR- 
SHALL on  the  broad  ground  of  his  novels,  will  like  him  no 
less  in  the  best  (and  they  are  many)  of  these  stories.  No 
Marshallite—  if  I  ma  be  forgiven  the  expression—  who 


expects  the  usual  pleasant  ingredients  will  be  disappointed. 


He  will  find  the  old  and 
stately  country  house, 
the  clipped  yew  hedges, 
the  rose  -  gardens,  the 
terraces,  together  with 
the  delightful  girls  (a 
particular  speciality  of 
Mr.  MARSHALL'S),  the 
shrewd  old  lady  and  the 
acid  one,  the  precociously 
clever  and  observant 
child-woman,  the  spruce 
but  manly  youth,  and 
the  general  atmosphere 
of  calm  and  immemorial 
comfort.  Here  and  there 
an  American  girl  crops 
up,  and  it  is  plain  that 
this  variety  is  a  favourite 
with  Mr.  MARSHALL,  for 
he  takes  care  that  she 
shall  do  no  discredit  to 
her  patrician  surroundings ; 
she  shall  come  out  on  top. 


THK   WORLD'S  WORKERS. 

AltTIST    TO   A    JTRM   OF   COXFECTIOXEHS    PAIXTIXO    BULL'S  -  EYES    FliOM    THE 
LIVING   MODKL'.      >•  ••'       •  • 


"  a  powerful  streak  of  red"  in  his  veins,  came,  it  is  true,  from 
a  curious  stock,  but  even  when  every  allowance  has  been 
made  for  him  I  find  it  impossible  to  understand  how  he 
could  attract  a  woman  of  such  natural  refinement  as  Lady 
Carfax.  Doubtless  Miss  DKLL  has  tried  to  give  him  some 
magnetic  quality  in  compensation  for  his  "streak,"  but  it  is 
astonishing  that  the  author  should  so  far  tolerate  or  over- 
look the  impossibility  of  his  manners  as  to  suffer  him  to 
bo  adored  by  so  gentle  a  heroine.  The  only  character  to 
whom  he  showed  a  true  deference  was  his  invalid  half- 
brother  Lucas,  and  in  the  scenes  between  these  two  we  are 
given  some  most  admirable  pieces  of  writing. 

I  AM  never  quite  certain  whether  I  best  like  "  M.  E. 
FKANCIS"  in  her  Dorset  or  in  her  Lancashire  mood- 
Hesitatingly  I  decide  for  the  latter,  perhaps  from  personal 
reasons,  perhaps  only  because  I  have  just  finished  Our 
Alii/  (Loxo),  a  tale  of  rural  Lancashire,  which  strikes  me 
as  exhibiting  Mrs.  BLUNDELL-'S  art  at  its  very  good  best. 
The  construction  of  it  is  simplicity  itself,  for  its  whole 
matter  is  the  wooing  of  a  country  heroine  by  two  contrasted 

suitors,  a  Territorial 
officer-boy  and  a  young 
farmer.  But  the  three 
of  them  are  so  well  and 
delicately  drawn,  the 
girl  especially,  that  the 
course  of  her  love  holds 
you  like  a  history  of  high 
adventure  and  romance. 
And  in  the  middle — to 
the  astonishment  per- 
haps of  readers  who  may 
not  remember  that  its 
author  has  already  proved 
her  power  of  drama 
upon  the  actual  stage 
— it  suddenly  quickens 
to  a  scene  of  breathless 
give-and-take  that  would 
make  its  fortune  as  a 
play.  Of  the  setting  I 
do  not  speak  in  detail, 
already  the  charm  of  Mrs. 
It  may  bo,  however, 


must   know 


indeed    he  see^   to   it   that  !  because    you 
The  whole  dish  is  served !  BLUNDELI/S   rustic  pen-pictures. 


up  with  a  seasoning  of  acute  observation  and  quiet  humour  j  that  you  hardly  supposed  the  country  within  a  few  miles  of 

Except !  Liverpool  likely  to  yield  any  special  beauties  of  description. 


it  very   agreeable  to 
a  very  early  one,   Mr. 


the   palate. 
MARSHALL  dors 


which    makes 

in  one  story, 

set  out   to   make 

well   contrived,  are  amiable   rather  than  terrific,  and    he '  to  have  been  brought  up,  like  myself,  by  a  nurse  whose 

knows  exactly  how  to  carry  his  reader  along  with   him  to   native  tongue  it  was,  so  that  such  phrases  as  "to  be  kept 

the  end  of  the  tale.     I  select  "  A  Son  of  Service"  as  proving,    agate  siding  after  him  "  have  the  charm  of  early  association. 


not  I  In  that  case  all  I  say  is,  "  Do  but  read."    As  for  the  speech 
your  flesh   creep.     His  crises,  though  !  of  the  characters,  to  taste  its  full  flavour  you  may  require 


if  any  proof  were  needed,  that  he  lias  a  special  gift  for 
writing  a  powerful  story  of  striking  human  interest  without 
losing  his  amenity. 


The  Knave  of  Diamonds  (FISHER  UNWIN)  may  well 
appeal  to  those  who  either  shun  or  shudder  over  the 
rampantly  popular  fiction  of  the  day.  If  Miss  EDITH  DKLL 
does  not  possess  the  higher  literary  graces,  nobody  can 
read  this  book  without  recognizing  that  she  has  a  very  apt 
turn  for  natural  dialogue,  that  she  knows  how  to  create  a 
poignant  situation,  and  that  her  sense  of  pathos  never 
descends  into  the  glutinous  depths  of  maudlin  sentimentality. 
Where  she  fails  is  in  her  tendency  to  exaggeration  in  the 
drawing  of  character  (her  squire  would  have  been  more 
convincing  if  he  had  been  less  wildly  bestial),  and  in  her 
inability  to  recognise  that  her  hero  is,  when  all  is  said  and 
done,  a  very  perfect  bounder.  Nfqi  Krrol,  an  American  with 


But  you  need  no  special  upbringing  to  find  pleasure  in  a 
story  so  engaging  and  so  well  told. 


French  Sayings  of  the  Week. 

"  '  Dion  ot  mon  Uroit ' — '  God  and  My  Country  ' — the  royal  motto 
of  England." — OriUia  Weekly  Times. 

"When  the  British  Bill  o£  1832  was  passed,  Washington— the 
hero  of  Waterloo — exclaimed  in  the  House  of  Lords,  '  We  mu-t 
educate  our  Masters.'  " — •Wtatmoimt  News. 

Waterloo  was  the  only  subject  upon  which  WASHINGTON 
and  WILLIAM  ADAMS  were  not  quite  truthful. 


"  Considering  how  rare  the  'Tulsin'   is,  I  thought  I  might  shoot 
one  of  these,  and  I  fired,  killing  the  largest. "—fSlaclncood'*  Magazine. 

He'll  learn  'em  to  be  rare! 


FKBHUARY  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


115 


CHARIVARIA. 

IN  connection  with  Scotland's  refusal 

1  to  meet  Franco  at  Rugby  football,  as 

the  result  of  the  violence1  of  the  French 

crowd,  fair-minded  people  are  pointing 

out  (hat  it  should  ho  remembered  that 

Scotland  has  for  years  made  a  practice 

!  of  allowing  the  bag-pipes  to  ho  played 

.hiring  international  mafdies  at   Invi-r- 

loith.  *   :;: 

Tho  young   man   who  [is   alleged  to 

have    threatened    to    shoot    a   popular 

-.s,  unless  he  were  paid  £1,000,  is 

also  stated  to  have  demanded  £400  on 

similar     conditions     from     the    KING. 

Nothing  but  genuine  loyalty  could  have 

ed   this   sensational  reduction    in 

ti  nns.  ...    ... 

Speaking  at  Regent's  Park  Chapel  on 

Sunday,  the  Rev.  F.  13.  MEYER  alluded 

to  the  possibility  of  his  being  described 

as  a  kill-joy.   How  he  gets  these  bizarre 

•  ins  we  cannot  understand. 

A  marked  copy  of  the  February 
number  of  The  Birmingham  Diocesan 
Mafja~inc,  containing  Dr.  RUSSELL 
WAKKFIELD'S  strong  remarks  on  Lenten 
fasting,  has  been  sent  to  the  Crypto- 
procta  Ferox  at  the  Zoo.  This  peckish 
animal  cats  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
two  pounds  of  food  daily,  in  addition  to 
of  the  woodwork  and  all  the 
paint  of  his  cage;  and  it  is  hoped  that 
during  Lent  he  maybe  induced  at  least 
to  swear  off  paint. 

Three  young  gentlemen  of  the  Bowery 
have  got  themselves  into  trouble  in  New 
York  by  shooting  a  man  they  were  not 
liiivd  to  shoot.  This  kind  of  gratuitous 
outrage  is  always  sternly  repressed  by 
Xew  York  police. 

According  to  a  men's  fashion  paper, 
Spring  socks  will  bo  black  and  Spring 
ties  a  quiet  blue.  A  strike  of  nuts  is 
expected  at  any  moment. 

Little  Hints  for  Everyday  Life : — 
No.  1.  Do  not  whistle  "'Everybody  's 
Doing  It "  as  you  pass  the  Reform 
Club.  The  Committee  dislike  it. 

Net  content  with  their  recent  post- 
ponements, the  Government  has  de- 
cided to  shelve  the  Bee  Disease  Bill 
until  next  session.  The  sticky  sub- 
stance recently  found  in  a  pillar-box 
"  not  a  hundred  miles  from  "  Downing 
Street  is  said  to  have  been  honey. 

*    •':- 

:': 

The  Mr.  GEORGE 'to  whom  The  Daily 
Telegraph  alludes  as  a  "  force  to  be 
reckoned  with  in  fiction  "  is  not  the 
CHANCELLOR  OF  THE  EXCHEQUER. 


CONFIDENCES. 


Site.  "Winr,  IIEB  AND  ME  WEUE  THE  BEST  OF  FRIENDS  BEFOHE  HIM  AND  HEE  MET.    O? 

COURSE,   THIS   IS   BETWEEN  YOU  AND   I." 


Tracking  him  by  his  teeth-mai'ks  in 
the  butter,  which  ho  had  apparently 
eaten  neat  in  large  motithfuls,  the 
French  police  captured  a  burglar  the 
morning  after  he  had  broken  into  a 
house.  On  being  arrested,  he  denied 
the  charge  and  said :  "  I  don't  like 
butter."  At  the  moment  we  should 
imagine  this  to  be  the  troth. 

The  management  of  the  Garrick 
Theatre  insist  on  money  down  from 
those  who  wish  to  sea  Trust  the  People. 

•'..  -ii 

It  is  not  stated  whether  the  thumb 
which  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  has  injured 
is  the  one  under  which  he  has  been 
keeping  his  colleagues  of  the  Cabinet. 

-.;:    * 

:|: 

Mr.  Fir-soN  YOUNG'S  remark  that 
"  one  is  inclined  to  think  of  the  Courts 


of  Justice  as  a  species  of  gold  mine  for 
those  professionally  engaged  in  their 
precincts "  seems  curiously  apposite. 
Only  last  week  a  pickpocket  relieved  a 
spectator  at  Bow  Street  of  his  watch 
and  purse.  ...  ... 

Real  rain  is  to  be  a  feature  of  n 
forthcoming  play.  Nervous  playgoer 
are  hoping  that  the  REINHARDT  craze 
will  not  cause  it  to  enter  from  the 
auditorium.  ...  .,. 

One  orange  a  week  is  to  be  given  to 
each  child  in  the  Lambeth  Guardians' 
schools  at  Norwood  as  a  preventive 
against  influenza.  All  we  can  say  is 
that,  if  the  influenza  germ  is  to  be 
intimidated  by  one  orange  a  week,  it 
has  sadly  lost  its  pluck  since  we  lust 
met  it. 


i     :  .    CXI.IV. 


116 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  12,  1913. 


WINTER   SPORT. 

II. — THE  OPENING  RUN. 

WITH  a  great  effort  Simpson  strapped 
his  foot  securely  into  a  ski  and  turned 
doubtfully  to  Thomas. 

"  Thomas,"  he  said,  "  how  do  you 
know  which  foot  is  which  ?  " 

"It  depends  whose,"  said  Thomas. 
Ho  was  busy  tying  a  largo  rucksack 
of  lunch  on  to  himself,  and  was  in  no 
mood  for  Samuel's  ball-room  chatter. 

"  You  've  got  one  ski  on  one  foot,"  I 
said.  "  Then  the  other  ski  goes  on  the 
foot  you've  got  over.  I  should  have 
thought  you  would  have  seen  that." 

"  But  I  may  have  put  the  first  one 
on  wrong." 

"  You  ought  to  know,  after  all  these 
years,  that  you  are  certain  to  have 
done  so,"  I  said  severely.  Having  had 
my  own  hired  skis  fixed  on  by  the  con- 
cierge I  felt  rather  superior.  Simpson, 
having  bought  his  in  London,  was  re- 
garded darkly  by  that  gentleman,  and 
left  to  his  own  devices. 

"  Are  we  all  ready?  "  asked  Myra,\vho 
had  kept  us  waiting  for  twenty  minutes. 
"Archie,  what  about  Dahlia? " 

"  Dahlia  will  join  us  at  lunch.  She 
is  expecting  a  letter  from  Peter  by  the 
twelve  o'clock  post  and  refuses  to  start 
without  it.  Also  she  doesn't  think  she 
is  up  to  ski-ing  just  yet.  Also  she 
•wants  to  have  a  heart-to-heart  talk 
with  the  girl  in  red,  and  break  it  to  her 
that  Thomas  is  engaged  to  several 
people  in  London  already." 

"  Come  on,"  growled  Thomas,  and 
he  led  the  way  up  the  hill.  We 
followed  him  in  single  file. 

It  was  a  day  of  colour,  straight  from 
Heaven.  On  either  side  the  dazzling 
whiteness  of  the  snow ;  above,  the  deep 
blue  of  the  sky;  in  front  of  me  the 
glorious  apricot  of  Simpson's  winter 
suiting.  London  seemed  a  hundred 
years  away.  It  was  impossible  to 
work  up  the  least  interest  in  the  Home 
Rule  Bill,  the  Billiard  Tournament  or 
the  state  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 

"  I  feel  extremely  picturesque,"  said 
Archie.  "If  only  we  had  a  wolf  or 
two  after  us,  the  illusion  would  be 
complete.  The  Boy  Trappers,  or  Half- 
Hours  among  the  Eocky  Mountains." 

"  It  is  a  pleasant  thought,  Archie," 
I  said,  "  that  in  any  wolf  trouble  the 
bachelors  of  the  party  would  have  to 
sacrifice  themselves  for  us.  Myra,  dear, 
the  loss  of  Samuel  in  such  circum- 
stances would  draw  us  very  close 
together.  There  might  be  a  loss  of 
Thomas  too,  perhaps — for  if  there  was 
not  enough  of  Simpson  to  go  round,  if 
there  was  a  hungry  wolf  left  over, 
would  Thomas  hesitate  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Thomas,  "  I  should  run 
like  a  hare." 


Simpson  said  nothing.  His  faco  I 
could  not  see;  but  his  back  looked 
exactly  like  the  back  of  a  man  who 
was  trying  to  look  as  if  he  had 
been  brought  up  on  skis  from  a  baby 
and  was  now  taking  a  small  party  of 
enthusiastic  novices  out  for  their  first 
lesson. 

"  What  an  awful  shock  it  would  be," 
I  said,  "if  we  found  that  Samuel  really 
did  know  something  about  it  after  all ; 
and,  while  we  were  tumbling  about 
anyhow,  he  sailed  gracefully  down  the 
steepest  slopes.  I  should  go  straight 
back  to  Cricklewood." 

My   dear    chap,   I  've    read   a   lot 
about  it." 

"  Then  we  're  quite  safe." 

"  With  all  his  faults,"  said  Archie, 

and   they  are  many— Samuel   is   a 

gentleman.     He  would  never  take  an 

unfair  advantage  of   us.     Hallo,  here 

wo  are." 

We  left  the  road  and  made  our  way 
across  the  snow  to  a  little  wooden  hut 
which  Archie  had  noticed  the  day  before. 
Here  we  were  to  meet  Dahlia  for  lunch  ; 
and  here,  accordingly,  we  left  the  ruck- 
sack and  such  garments  as  the  heat  of 
the  sun  suggested.  Then,  at  the  top 
of  a  long  snow-slope,  steep  at  first, 
more  gentle  later,  we  stood  and  won- 
dered. 

'  Who 's  going  first  ?  "  said  Archie. 

'  What  do  you  do  ?  "  asked  Myra. 

1  You  don't.     It  does  it  for  you." 

'  But  how  do  you  stop  ?  " 

'Don't  bother  about  that,  dear,"  I 
said.  "  That  will  be  arranged  for  you  all 
right.  Take  two  steps  to  the  brink  of 
the  hill  and  pick  yourself  up  at  the 
bottom.  Now  then,  Simpson !  Be  a 

man.  The  lady  waits,  Samuel.  The 

Hallo !  Hi !  Help  1 "  I  cried,  as  I  began 
to  move  off  slowly.  It  was  too  late  to 
do  anything  about  it.  "  Good-bye,"  I 
called.  And  then  things  moved  more 
quickly  .  .  . 

Very  quickly  . 

Suddenly  there  came  a  moment  when 
I  realised  that  I  wasn't  keeping  up  with 
my  feet  .  .  . 

I  shouted  to  my  skis  to  stop.  It 
was  no  good.  They  went  on  ... 

I  decided  to  stop  without  them  .  .  . 

The  ensuing  second  went  by  too 
swiftly  for  me  to  understand  rightly 
what  happened.  I  fancy  that,  rising 
from  my  sitting  position  and  travelling 
easily  on  my  head,  I  caught  my  skis 
up  again  and  passed  them  .  .  . 

Then  it  was  then:  turn.  They  over- 
took me  .  .  . 

But  I  was  not  to  be  beaten.  Once 
more  I  obtained  the  lead.  This  time  I 
took  the  inside  berth,  and  kept  it  ... 

There  seemed  to  be  a  lot  more  snow 
than  I  wanted  ...  I  struggled  bravely 
with  it  . 


And  then  the  earthquake  ceased,  and 
suddenly  I  was  in  the  outer  air.  My 
first  ski-run,  the  most  glorious  run  of 
modern  times,  was  over. 

"  Eipping !  "  I  shouted  up  the  hill  to 
them.  "  But  there 's  rather  a  Tiasty 
bump  at  the  bottom,"  I  added  kindly, 
as  I  set  myself  to  the  impossible  busi- 
ness of  getting  up  ... 

"  Jove,"  said  Archie,  coming  to  rest  a 
few  yards  off,  "  that's  splendid."  He  had 
fallen  in  a  less  striking  way  than  myself, 
and  he  got  to  his  feet  without  difficulty. 
"  Why  do  you  pose  like  that  ? "  he 
asked,  as  he  picked  up  his  stick. 

"I'm  a  fixture,"  I  announced. 
"  Myra,"  I  said,  as  she  turned  a  somer- 
sault and  arrived  beaming  at  my  side, 
"  I  'm  here  for  some  time ;  you  '11 
have  to  come  out  every  morning  with 
crumbs  for  me.  In  the  afternoon  you 
can  bring  a  cheering  book  and  read 
aloud  to  your  husband.  Sometimes  I 
shall  dictate  little  things  to  you.  They 
will  not  be  my  best  little  things ;  for 
this  position,  with  my  feet  so  much 
higher  than  my  head,  is  not  the  one  in 
which  inspiration  comes  to  me  most 
readily.  The  flow  of  blood  to  the  brain 
impairs  reflection.  But  no  matter." 

"Are  you  really  stuck?"  asked  Myra 
in  some  anxiety.  "  I  should  hate  to 
have  a  husband  who  lived  by  himself 
in  the  snow,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 

"  Let  us  look  on  the  bright  side," 
said  Archie.  "  The  snow  will  have 
melted  by  April,  and  he  will  then  be 
able  to  return  to  you.  Hallo,  here's 
Thomas.  Thomas  will  probably  have 
some  clever  idea  for  restoring  the  family 
credit." 

Thomas  got  up  in  a  businesslike 
manner  and  climbed  slowly  back  to  us. 

"Thomas,"  I  said,  "you  see  the 
position.  Indeed,"  I  added,  "  it  is 
obvious.  None  of  the  people  round  me 
seems  inclined — or,  it  may  be,  able — to 
help.  There  is  a  feeling  that  if  Myra 
lives  in  the  hotel  alone  while  I  remain 
here — possibly  till  April— people  will 
talk.  You  know  how  ready  they  are. 
There  is  also  the  fact  that  I  have  only 
hired  the  skis  for  three  weeks.  Also— a 
minor  point,  but  one  that  touches  me 
rather — that  I  shall  want  my  hair  cut 
long  before  March  is  out.  Thomas, 
imagine  me  to  be  a  torpedo-destroyer 
on  the  Maplin  Sands,  and  tell  mo  what 
on  earth  to  do." 

"  Take  your  skis  off." 

"Oh,  brilliant!"  said  Myra. 

"Take  my  skis  off?"  I  cried. 
"  Never !  Is  it  not  my  duty  to  be  the 
last  to  leave  my  skis  ?  Can  I  aban- 
don   Hallo,  is  that  Dahlia  on  the 

sky-line?  Hooray,  lunch!  Archie, 
take  my  skis  off,  there  's  a  good  fellow. 
We  mustn't  keep  Dahlia  waiting." 

A.  A.  M. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— FEBRUARY  12,   1913. 


THE    FINISHING    TOUCH. 


LONDON  (to  County  Councillor}.  "  WHAT    AEE    YOU    UP    TO,    BLOCKING    THE    VIEW  ? " 

COUNTY  COUNCILLOR.  "OH,   JUST   IMPKOYING   THINGS.      ' AES  EST  CELAEE  AETEM'  YOU 
KNOW." 

M»,  [W° i^av° nto  'hai1^  tho  "ImPr°™ments"  Committee  of  the  L.C.C.  for  threatening  to  spoil  the  scheme  of  tho  OUEES  VICTOEIA 
onal  by  allowing  the  prospect  of  tho  Admiralty  Arch  to  be  obstructed  by  a  building  at  the  Eastern  end.] 


FEBBUAHY  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


119 


A  VENDETTA?    NOT  AT  ALL.    GIUSEPPE  AND  LUIGI  ABE  ENGAGED  IN  THE  MORNING  CONFLICT  WITH  THEIR  MASTER'S  WINDOW. 

REFLECTED    GLORY. 

[Among  the  newspaper  illustrations  of  a  recent  sensational  elopement  was  a  photograph  of  the  sleeping  baby  of  the  chicken-farmer  with  . 
whom  tho  fugitives  lodged,  and  also  that  of  a  fellow-pupil  whose  apparent  share  in  the  "  romance"  was  that  he  identified  a  signature.] 


THIS  is  the  Shelter  that  Blank  took. 

This  is  the  Farmer  and  also  his  Wife 
Who  unwittingly  shielded  the  Double  Life 
That  went  on  in  the  Shelter  that  Blank  took. 

This  is  the  Innocent  Infant  Son 
Who  crowed  like  the  Fowls  in  the  Poultry  Eun, 
That  belonged  to  the  Farmer  and,  may  be,  his  wife 
Who  guilelessly  aided  the  Duplicate  Life 

That  was  lived  in  the  Lodging  that  Blank  took. 

This  is  the  Pupil  who  worked  at  the  Place, 
Where  a  sleuth  of  a  Pressman  snapped  his  Face 
To  balance  the  view  of  the  Infant  Son 
Whose  title  to  fame  was  the  Poultry  Run 
That  belonged  to  the  Farmer  and  (doubtless)  his  Wife 
Who  blissfully  sheltered  the  Double  Life 
Of  the  Pair  in  the  Refuge  that  Blank  took. 

This  is  the  Butcher  who  brought  round  the  Meat 

At  irregular  times  to  the  Sussex  Retreat 

Of  the  blameless  Pupil  who  toiled  at  the  Place, 

Where  the  Camera-fiend  took  a  map  of  his  Face, 

To  match  the  irrelevant  Infant  Son, 

Too  young  to  assist  in  the  Poultry  Run 

That  supported  the  Farmer  and  Farmer's  Wife 

Who  never  suspected  the  Double  Life 

That  was  led  in  the  Shelter  that  Blank  took. 


This  is  the  Pub  where  the  Butcher  would  call — • 
It  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Scandal  at  all, 
Unless  it  delayed  him  in  bringing  the  Meat 
At  any  odd  time  to  this  rural  Retreat, 
To  sustain  the  Pupil  who  lodged  at  the  Place 
Where  the  journalist's  Kodak  has  captured  his  Face, 
To  fill  up  the  page  where  the  Infant  Son 
Lies  asleep  in  his  pram  near  the  Chicken  Run, 
Where  the  Farmer  and  also  his  worthy  Wife 
Unconsciously  beamed  on  the  Twofold  Life 
That  went  on  in  the  Refuge  that  Blank  took. 

This  is  the  Public  that  eagerly  gapes 

At  squalid  "  emotional  "  dramas  and  scrapes, 

And  must  see  the  Pub  where  the  Butcher  would  call 

(Yes,  I  too  confess  that  I  've  read  through  it  all !), 

On  his  devious  way  to  deliver  the  Meat 

That  the  Lodgers  devoured  in  this  sylvan  Retreat, 

Including  the  Pupil  who,  right  at  the  Place, 

Is  rendered  immortal  through  lending  his  Face 

As  a  foil  to  the  slumbering  Infant  Son 

Who 's  the  hero,  it  seems,  of  the  Chicken  Run 

That  is  owned  by  the  Farmer  along  with  his 

Wife- 
See  their  portraits,  a  little  fed  up  with  the  Life 
That  was  spent  in  the  Shelter  that  Blank  took. 

ZIQ-ZAG. 


120 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEPMTABY  12,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"THE  Sox  AND  Hiau." 

'Miss  GLADYS  UNGKU'S  play  Ir.n  the 
misfortune  to  challenge  comparisons 
(rather  odious  for  her)  with  Mr.  G.-M..V 
WORTHY'S  recent  production,  The  Eldest 
Son,  a  work  of  so  pure  an  excellence 
that  its  failure  WHS  foredoomed.  Mr. 
(i  UNWORTHY  presented  to  us,  in  an 
atmosphere  of  ama/ing  reality,  a  very 
delicate  problem  which  might  any  day 
he  set  for  solution.  I  don't  know  what 
experience  Miss  GLADYS lrNCiEu(U.S.  A.) 
may  have  had  of  English  country  houses, 
but  she  starts  out  with  a  prejudice 
against  our  system  of  primogeniture, 
and  goes  on  to  manufacture  a  story 
to  suit  her  case — a  story  savouring 
strongly  of  novels  and  the  stage. 

Happily  for  us  (for  things  might 
have  been  worse)  the  spoilt  youth  of 
the  title,  an  unmannerly  boor,  incredible 
as  a  product  of  Oxford,  disappeared 
ourly  from  the  scene,  and  we  were  left 
to  witness  the  brutality  of  his  father 
towards  those  other  members  of  his 
family  who,  through  difference  of  sex  or 
age,  did  not  happen  to  be  his  eldest  son. 
At  7  I'..M.  he  was  in  his  study  thrashing 
his  younger  son  for  a  slight  ineptitude  in 
the  hunting-field.  At  midnight  he  was 
in  his  eldest  daughter's  room,  trying  his 
best  to  throttle  her  because  she  differed 
from  him  as  to  her  duty  towards  the 
boast  of  a  husband  whom  ho  had 
forced  her  to  marry.  Meanwhile,  in 
the  intervals  snatched  from  devoted 
attendance  on  an  injured  mare,  ho  had 
arranged,  as  a  matter  of  by-play,  to 
blast  the  hopes  of  his  younger  daughter 
and  her  lover,  thus  achieving  the  first 
stage  of  the  treatment  which  had  ruined 
his  other  girl's  life.  Not  a  bad  evening's 
work  for  a  typical  English  squire. 

lie  took  it  easily,  however,  as  to  the 
manner  born.  The  real  brunt  fell 
upon  his  married  daughter  (Miss  ETHEL 
IRVING),  who  had  to  entertain  no  fewer 
than  four  midnight  visitors  in  her 
bedroom :  (1)  her  lover,  who  arranged 
to  fly  with  her  immediately  after  break- 
fast ;  (2)  her  young  sister,  whoso  tale 
of  woe  she  had  to  hear ;  (3)  her  father, 
who,  as  I  said,  tried  to  throttle  her ; 
(4)  a  French  guest,  who  heard  her 
screams,  and  came  from  his  neigh- 
bouring room  in  a  dressing-gown  to 
the  rescue. 

The  last  Act  shows  some  ingenuity. 
The  Squire  has  thought  things  over  in 
the  few  remaining  watches  of  the  night, 
and  announces  at  the  breakfast-table  that 
he  consents  to  his  younger  daughter's 
engagement.  This  disarms  the  other, 
who  cancels  her  arrangements  to  elope 
and  determines  to  "play  the  game,"  in 
the  hope  that  an  appeased  Providence 
may  intervene  on  her  behalf  later  on. 


It  was  all  over  and  settled  with  the 
greatest  promptitude,  and  in  face  of 
grave  difficulties  presented  by  the  scene. 
For  the  huge  breakfast  table  took  up 
nearly  all  the  stage,  leaving  hardly  any 
room'  for  the  drama  in  which  at  least 
four  souls  were  intimately  concerned. 
And  Miss  ETHICL  LIVING'S  hat,  built  on 
the  lines  of  a  hussar's  head-gear,  and 
tilted  rakishly  over  one  eye,  did  not 
lend  itself  to  sacrificial  tragedy. 

Comparisons  between  The.  Son  and 
Heir  and  The,  Eldest  Son  were  painfully 
emphasised  by  the  fact  that  Mr.  EDMUND 
MAI/IUCK  played  the  Squire  in  both. 


Pascoe  Taiidridge  (Mr.  NORMAN  TUKVOB) 
to  Felix  Fount  (Mr.  RAYMOND  LAUZERTE). 
' '  Congratulate  me,  my  dear  fellow ;  my  elope- 
ment is  off.  We  are  'playing  the  game1 — a 
habit  peculiar  to  the  race  whose  institutions 
you  are  here  to  study." 

After  the  fine  justice  which  he  did  (and 
no  one  else  could  have  done  it  so  well) 
to  the  subtleties  of  Mr.  GALSWORTHY'S 
portrait,  it  was  sad  to  see  him  called 
upon  to  play  the  part  of  a  mere  brow- 
beating family  tyrant ;  yet  somehow  he 
contrived  to  make  his  distinction  of 
manner  shine  through  it  all.  I  badly 
missed  the  exquisite  grace  of  Miss 
IUENE  EOOKE  as  the  chatelaine  of  the 
earlier  play.  I  don't  know  whether  Miss 
CYNTHIA  BROOKE  was  following  the 
author's  instructions  when  she  bowed 
to  one  of  her  guests  at  their  first  meet- 
ing after  his  arrival.  But  I  beg  her 
very  earnestly,  if  she  wants  us  to  believe 
that  she  is  really  the  hostess  (however 
crushed)  of  an  English  country  house, 
to  shake  hands  with  him  at  once. 

Miss  ETHEL  IRVING  cannot,  of  course, 
help  being  her  charming  self,  and  Mr. 


'  HAYMOND  LAUZERTK,  as  Felix  Foitric, 
a  French  guest  who  had  come  to  take 
notes  of  British  social  manners,  was  a 

I  great  success.  In  old  days  the  stage 
Frenchman  was  a  butt ;  hero  he  is 
allowed  to  ridicule  our  national  foibles. 
I  cannot  say  that  all  of  his  criticisms 
were  peculiarly  illuminating,  but  they 
were  made  with  admirablogood-humour. 
I  hope  I  have  not  been  unfair  to  Miss 
UNGKU.  But  she  can  well  afford  me 
my  protests,  for  her  play  seems  to  have 
had  an  enthusiastic  reception  011  the 
First  Night.  And  the  other  day  I  saw 
as  many  as  two  pictures  of  her  on  a 
single  page  of  a  photographic  weekly. 

"  TRUST  THE  PEOPLE." 

Things  had  been  going  pretty  well 
so  far  with  John  Greemrood.  Risen 
from  the  People  (Lancashire,  of  course, 
for  this  is. Mr.  STANLEY  HOCGHTON'S 
play),  he  had  entered  Parliament,  be- 
came engaged  to  the  daughter  of  a  Tory- 
Marquis,  and  only  a  week  ago  been 
appointed  President  of  the  Board  of 
Labour  with  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet 
(Radical).  It  was  at  this  point  that 
Nemesis  of  the  halting  foot  came  in. 
To  Captain  Fclton,  who  had  a  soldierly 
eye  for  tactics,  it  seemed  as  good  a 
moment  as  any  for  citing  Greenwood 
as  a  co-respondent.  To  offer  marriage 
to  his  late  mistress  (who  declines  it) 
is  the  work  of  a  moment ;  to  release 
his  betrothed  is  another  simple  matter. 
But  how  will  the  scandal  affect  our  hero's 
Parliamentary  career  ?  That  is  a  larger 
question.  Rumour  is  already  busy  in  the 
Clubs  (Reform  and  others)  and,  as  usual 
in  these  cases,  the  Prime  Minister  and 
the  Chief  Whip  pay  a  morning  call 
upon  the  delinquent.  Guardian  of  the 
Nonconformist  conscience,  the  head  of 
the  Cabinet  is  perfectly  cynical  about 
the  immorality  of  Greemrood' s  conduct, 
but  has  to  consider  the  Party's  welfare. 
Was  it  not  a  caso  for  hush-money  ? 
What  were  the  Party  funds  for  except 
to  be  used  for  the  good  of  the  Party  V 

But  Greenwood  will  not  hear  of 
blackmail.  He  will  throw  himself  upon 
the  People.  He  will  resign  his  seat, 
make  a  clean  breast  of  things,  and  stand 
again  for  Blackshaw,  his  birthplace. 
After  all,  what  has  a  man's  private  life 
got  to  do  with  his  political  position  ? 
The  People  might  be  depended  upon 
to  understand  all  that.  "  Trust  the 
People  !  "  had  always  been  his  motto. 

The  close  of  the  First  Act,  which  ran 
very  smoothly  in  a  pleasant  vein  of 
humour,  gave  promise  of  interesting 
developments  along  the  lines  of  comedy 
for  those  of  us  who  had  not  detected 
a  sinister  note  of  melodrama  in  the 
attitude  of  Lord  Chcadlc,  ex-father-in- 
law-elect  of  the  President  of  the  Board 
of  Labour.  The  stage  must  be  all 


FEBRUARY  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


121 


["  Most  o£  the  bottor-class  doctors  have  accepted  Mr.  LLOYD  GEOBGE'S  proposals." — Radical  Press.] 
Butler.  "LADY  JULIA  GODOLPHIN  WISHES  TO  SEB  YOU,  Bra,  VEBY  URGENT."  Doctor.  "Pui  HER  IK  THE  QUEUE!" 


things  to  all  people,  and  as  a  set-off 
to  tho  ridicule  of  a  Radical  Cabinet, 
\ve  wanted  a  wicked  Marquis  on  the 
othe»:side.  And  so  tho  first  incredible 
thing  happens  when  Lord  Cfieadle  puts 
up  his  younger  son,  Lord  Richard 
\iirtlicHdcn,  to  oppose  his  daughter's 
lover  at  the  by-election.  After  this 
\vo  might  well  be  prepared  for  any 
length  of  farce,  even  for  the  forged 
telegram  which  the  Marquis  sends  in 
(Greenwood's  name  to  the  respondent, 
urging  her  to  come  and  stay  at  the 
Candidate's  hotel  in  Blatkshaw. 

But  the  result  of  the  election  still 
intrigued  us.'  On  the  one  hand,  the 
title,  in  which  no  irony  was  suspected, 
led  us  to  suppose  that  Greenwood  would 
he  justified  of  his  Trust  in  the  People. 
On  tho  other  hand  tho  Puritanical  type 
with  which  Mr.  HOUOHTON  had  made 
us  familiar  in  Hindle  Wakes  discouraged 
the  idea  that  Lancashire  would 
overlook  immorality  in  one  of  its  Par- 
liamentary representatives.  In  the 
end  Greenwood  is  beaten.  Violently 
disillusioned,  he  delivers  an  impossible 
speech  to  the  howling  mob  outside  the 
Town  Hall.  Instead  of  protesting  his  j 


MORE  LANCASHIRE   "WAKES." 

Trust -tlit -People  Greenwood  (Mr.  Boin- 
CHIKK)  addresses  the  enlightened  electorate  of 
Kliickshaw. 


innocence  of  any  wrong  done  to  the 
electors,  ho  taunts  them  with  hypocrisy 
in  taking  seriously  an  episode  of  the 
kind  which  they  had  always  been  in 
the  habit  of  grinning  at. 

After  all  this  the  play  was  past 
acceptance  as  a  comedy  of  life,  though 
large  amends  were  made  with  the 
genre  interior  of  the  last  Act,  which 
showed  us  Greenwood's  devoted  mother 
waging  victorious  battle  (in  the  vernac- 
ular) for  her  broken  prodigal  against 
the  adamantine  opposition  of  his  father. 
Here  Mr.  HOUQHTON  was  in  his  element. 
Up  to  this  point  his  task  had  lain  a 
little  outside  his  experience. 

Mr.  BOUUCHIEB  as  Greenwood  played 
with  a  nice  artistic  restraint,  and  Mr. 
HERBERT  BUNSTON  as  the  Prime 
Minister ;  Mr.  THOMAS  SIDNEY  as 
Chief  Whip ;  Mr.  WEGUELIN  as  Lord 
Eccles  (Secretary  for  Wales,  and  so 
loyal  that  he  outraged  Cabinet  etiquette 
by  assisting  at  a  by-election) ;  and 
finally  Mr.  McNALLY  and  Miss 
BARBARA  GOTT  as  Greenwood's  parents, 
were  all  very  natural.  The  younger 
women  were  little  more  than  lay 
figures  of  convention.  O.  S. 


122 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBBUABY  12.  1913. 


ADVICE  TO   NATIVE   COMPOSERS. 


(Written  after  hearing 

"  Prometheus.") 
IRREPRESSIBLE  aspirant, 

Who  would  batter  down  the  doors 
Which  the  concert-giving  tyrant 

Shuts  against  your  deathless  scores  — 
Lo  !  I  bring  you  counsel  cheering 
Of  a  plan  for  engineering 
Paths  to  gain  for  you  a  hearing 
And  encores. 

First,  that  you  may  better  mimic 
Those  who  fill  the  tramp  of  fame, 

You  must  change  your  patronymic 
And  assume  a  Russian  name. 

Then,  removed  to  far  Mongolia 

Or  the  purlieus  of  Podolia, 

At  a  frenzied  melancholia 
You  must  aim. 

Let  your  "programme"  be  exotic 

With  Theosophy  imbued  ; 
Let  the  "  cosmic  "  and  "  erotic  " 

Intermittently  intrude  ; 

Mix  the  violets  of  Parma 

With  the  cult  of  Krishnavarma  ; 

And  repeatedly  to  Karma 

You  '11  allude. 

Take  a  scale,  say,  mixo-Phrygian 

With  an  oriental  twang, 
Let  your  atmosphere  be  Stygian 

But  inspired  by  Sturm  und  Drang  : 
Keep  the  soft  celesta  strumming, 
And  the  kettledrums  a-drumming, 
And  the  cymbals  always  "  coming  " 
With  a  clang. 

STBAUSS  is  growing  sadly  trivial, 

Condescending  to  the  part 
Diatonic  and  convivial 

Of  his  namesake  and  MOZABT. 
You  must  never  stoop  to  rollick 
In  a  mood  of  fun  and  frolic  ; 
No,  you  must  be  vitriolic 
In  your  art. 

By  an  ecstasy  Islamic 

Let  your  fervid  Muse  be  fanned  ; 
Be  sonorous  and  "  dynamic  "  ; 

Unintelligibly  grand  ; 
Let  the  fans  and  the  ori  go 
Be  a  mystical  fuligo 
Culminating  in  vertigo 
On  the  band. 

Thus  equipped  in  art  and  argot— 

If  you  follow  my  advice  — 
You  will  lift  the  long  embargo 

On  the  native  in  a  trice  ; 
And  your  symphony  of  bogeys, 
Cosmic  blatherskite  and  Yogis 
Will  be  played,  in  spite  of  fogeys, 
One  day  twice. 

"Tho   Iccturo    included    quotations    from 
Addison's  drama,  '  Cats.  '  " 

Western  Morning  News. 

The  old,  old  triangle  —  two  toms  and  a 
tabby. 


HIGH  NOTES. 

Miss  Kestrel  Mavis,  the  intrepid 
lady  aeronaut,  has  kindly  favoured  us 
with  a  memorandum  of  her  sensations 
as  a  passenger  during  a  marvellous 
flight  over  the  Himalayas,  written  m 
that  well-known  breezy  manner  of  hers 
which  gives  the  reader  such  a  sense  of 
atmosphere. 

12.15.— Shoot  upwards,  like  sky- 
rocket. Earth  recedes.  Natives  scurry 
below  like  mites  in  a  ripe  Stilton. 

12.35. — Three  miles  up.  Everything 
blurrish.  Pilot's  back  makes  good  desk. 
He  's  started  sneezing  I  Blow  1 

12.40. — Bit  chillsome.  Pins  and 
needles  in  right  foot.  Everything  still 
blurrish.  Hipl  hip  I 

12.50. — Aeroplane  covered  with  ice. 
Both  eyes  running.  Eyelashes  frozen 
solid.  Can't  see  note-book.  Bother  I 

12.53. — Pilot  passes  cigarette  over 
shoulder.  Thaw  eyelashes  with  lighted 
end.  Singe  them  a  bit,  but  can  see  to 
write.  Thank  goodness ! 

1.0. — Bump  a  thunderstorm.  Foun- 
tain-pen nib  struck.  Eight  hand  use- 
less. Must  take  notes.  Try  pencil  in 
left.  Writing  shaky  but  legible. 

1.10. — Everything  block  of  ice — pilot 
and  petrol  included.     Hullo!     Engine 
tops!     Plunging  down  like  a  stone. 
Eipping ! 

1.12. — Mountains  leap  up  to  meet  us. 
Get  camera  ready.  Hope  to  snap 
smash.  Hungry  but  happy. 

1.14 — Bother,  engine  working  again. 
Aeroplane  turns  six  somersaults.  Whoa 
my  beauty ! 

1.17. — Pilot  gets  whip  hand  again 
Planing  down  to  Thibet.     Dull  descent 
inevitable.    Nuisance ! 

1.20. — Propeller  breaks  off  sixty  fee 
from  ground.    Skims  pilot's  head — just 
misses  my  nose.     Snap  it  as  it  bangs 
ay.     Lucky  shot. 
1.21. — Bit  of  a  dust  up  to  finish  with 

after  all.    What  oh !     She 

1.26. bumpeth !   Ice  armour  pro 

tects  pilot  and  self.    Machine  smashed 
Vacuum  flasks  intact.     Hooray ! 
1.30.— Curry  for  lunch.     Hot  stuff ! 


The  Time  for  Abstinence. 

"Having  secured  the  outline  on  the  glass 
and  being  quite  dry,  we  can  now  proceed  t 
the  colouring." — Boy's  Own  Paper. 

A  wise  precaution.     The  colouring  i 
sure  to  want  a  steady  hand. 


"Tho  graceful  ministers  of  Yorkshire  wi 
come  under  review  to-morrow  evening   .   . 
when  Mr.   Charles  B.   Hpwdill   delivers  hi 
lecture  on  '  Yorkshire  Ministers."  " 

Aberdeen  Evening  Express. 

We  hope  for  a  few  pungent  remarks  o 
the  Amazing  Minister  of  Leeds. 


THE   TEUTH   OUT  AT  LAST. 

IN  the  House  of  Commons  last  week 
dr.  MASTEEMAN  said,  "  I  cannot  accept 
ewspaper  reports  of  these  cases.     The 
acts  are  often  opposite  to  the  state- 
ments made." 

It  is  generally  agreed  that  this  must 
e  taken  as  an  authoritative  confirma- 
^on  of  the  ugly  rumour  which  for  some 
ime    has    prevailed    in    sophisticated 
ircles.     To  say  that  Meet   Street  is 
tricken    with     consternation     hardly 
meets  the  case.     Members  of  the  jour- 
alistic  profession  had  hitherto  felt  able 
o  afford  to  laugh  at  the  rumour,  sinister 
sough  it  undoubtedly  was ;    but  this 
efinite  statement  from  a  member  of 
be  Government  and  an  ex-journalist 
s  a  different   matter.     By  a  colossal 
ffort  of  self-restraint  the  gentlemen  of 
be  Press  go  about  their  duties  almost 
s  if  nothing  had  happened  ;  close  ob- 
ervers  notice,  however,  that  now  and 
igain  in  Fleet  Street  one  Pressman  will 
[lance  suspiciously  at  another  as  if  to 
nquire:    "Are  you  the  one  who  has 
irought  this  blot  on  our  escutcheon '?  " 
Whether  the  pronouncement  of  the 
iroprietor  of  a  well-known  specific  for 
he  cure  of  croup,  chilblains  and  cancer 
will  allay  the  anxiety  in  the  provinces 
emains  to  be  seen.     With  a  reassur- 
ng  vigour     he    has    declared   to   an 
anxious  inquirer  that  anything  in  print 
may   be  believed.      And  his   view   is 
upheld  by   a  resident    in    a    Norfolk 
village  who  still   affirms  that  when  a 
ihing  's  in  black-and-white,  there  it  is, 
and  you  can't  get  over  it.    But  there 
.8  bitter  disappointment  among  regular 
readers  of  certain  of  the  Sunday  news- 
papers.   Our  heart  is  much  touched  by 
;he  utterance  of  an  old  lady  in  Battersea : 
"Why,  Annie,"  she  said  gloomily  to 
tier  daughter  on  having  Mr.  MASTER- 
MAN'S  pronouncement  brought  to  hei 
notice,  "  all  this  'ere  about  the  resur- 
rection curit  at  Monte  Carlo  mayn't  be 
true,  after  all,  then  !  " 

Up  to  the  time  of  writing  the  expo- 
sure has  had  no  effect,  we  are  informed 
on  the  response  to  company  prospec- 
tuses or  the  popularity  of  the  Secre; 
Land  Enquiry's  reports. 


"  In  the  midst  of  the  present  confusion 
when  no  one  knows  what  a  day  may  brinj 
forth,  when  surprises  are  continually  spruu: 
upon  us,  when  we  ask,  with  baited  breath 
What  next  ?  it  may  be  as  well  to  spend  a  few 
moments  in  looking  back  and  looking  for 
ward."— The  Vote. 

The  new  Winter  game :  Breath-baiting 
or  How  to  Catch  Votes. 


•  THEATRE. 


Tho  House  of  Exclusives.   Where  everybod 
goes." — Advt.  in  "  Sydney  Sun." 

This  makes  a  fairly  wide  appeal. 


FEBRUARY  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


123 


I 


MORE  CONCESSIONS. 

[' '  Dogs  arc  to  bo  allowed  on  the  upper  decks 
of  the  Middlesex  County  Council  tramcars  on 
payment  of  ordinary  passenger  fares.  Tho 
conductors  are  to  havo  tho  right  of  veto  in 
the  case  of  animals  whoso  appearance  or  be- 
haviour is  such  as  to  render  them  undesirable 
passengers." — Evening  Standard.] 

RETUUN  tickets  at  single  fares,  avail- 
able by  ordinary  trains,  are  about  to  be 
issued  on  the  Midland  Railway  to  foxes 
desirous  of  attending  local  meets  on 
their  system  during  the  season. 

Monkeys  will  in  future  be  admitted 
to  tho  Zoo  as  ordinary  visitors  at  half- 
price  on  condition  that  they  make  no 
demonstrations  or  remarks  calculated 
to  give  offence  or  cause  annoyance  to 
their  comrades  in  captivity. 

Cats  are  requested  to  note  that  ad- 
mission to  the  Frank  Buckland  Col- 
lection of  Fish  at  the  Science  Museum, 
South  Kensington,  is  free  on  Mondays, 
Wednesdays  and  Fridays.  Visitors  are 
particularly  requested  not  to  touch  the 
exhibits. 

Through  the  courtesy  of  H.M.  Office 
of  Works,  sea-gulls  have  been  granted 
permission  to  indulge  in  mixed  bathing 
in  the  ornamental  waters  of  St.  James's 
Park  between  the  hours  of  7  and 
9  A.M.  University  costume  is  not  in- 
sisted on. 

Tho  London  General  Omnibus  Com- 
pany are  making  arrangements  whereby 
old  'bus-horses  formerly  in  their  service 
may  travel  by  any  of  the  Company's 
motor  omnibuses  at  greatly  reduced 
fares.  The  conductors  have,  however, 
received  instructions  to  eject  any  horse 
found  making  derogatory  allusions  to 
the  new  motive  power. 

0.  U.  D.  S. 

ONE  of  Mr.  Punch's  learned  clerks 
.wishes  to  state  that  he  derived  con- 
siderable entertainment  from  TJie  Shoe- 
maker's Holiday,  as  represented  by 
!the  0. U. D.  S.  "If  here  and  there  in 
the  earlier  scenes,"  he  writes,  "there 
was  some  obscurity,  which  (helped  by 
,the  effect  of  the  curtains,  through  which 
the.  performers  came  and  went)  produced 
an  atmosphere  curiously  like  that  of  a 
charade,  with  the  audience  hopelessly 
groping  for  the  word,  the  later  acts  of 
roystering  made  ample  amends.  Here 
and  there  the  old  comedy  sounded 
strangely  modem,  especially  in  the 
portrayal  of  the  two  chief  apprentices 
as  arranging  a  sympathetic  strike 
whenever  anything  went  untowardly. 
A  line  in  which  Frisk  (that  merry  rogue, 
excellently  played)  speaks  of  '  chopping 
up  the  matter  of  the  Savoy'  had  an 
almost  wistful  appeal  for  certain  critics 
from  town  who  had  scamped  their  lunch 
in  order  to  attend  the  matinee.  But 
they  were  well  repaid  for  their  fasting. 


Ml.'.tress  (to  maid  who  is  emigrating  to  Canada).  "WELL,  GOOD  LUCK  TO  YOU,  MABT; 

THE   VOYAGE  'LIi  SOON   BE   OVEB." 

Mary.  "Bur  I'M  LOOKEJO  POBWABD  TO  THE  VOYAGE,  MUM." 
Mistress.  "THAT'S  EIGHT;  AND  I  HOPE  YOU  WON'T  BE  SEA-SICK." 
Mary.  "  OH,  BUT  I — I— DOM'T  WANT  TO  MISS  ANYTHING." 


Altogether  a  deserved  success  seems  to 
have  rewarded  the  Oxford  Society  in 
breaking  away  from  its  traditional  policy 
of  SHAKSPEABE  or  Greek.  Prosit." 


The  Rugby  Advertiser,  honourably 
anxious  to  locate  in  the  right  quarter 
a  piece  of  intelligence  which  ought,  it 
appears,  to  have  been  associated  with 
"  the  wives  of  the  Rector's  Warden  and 
the  Parish  Warden"  (not  of  Rugby), 
makes  the  following  statement :  "  By 
an  inadvertent  omission  the  paragraph 
read,  'wives  of  the  Rector  and  the 
Parish  Warden.'  The  Rector  has  never 
been  married  and  has,  therefore,  no 
wife."  There  is  still  the  question  of 


the  "  wives  of  the  Rector's  Warden 
and  the  Parish  Warden  "  to  be  cleared 
up ;  but  we  are  glad  that  all  suspicion 
of  polygamy  on  the  part  of  the  Rector 
has  been  removed.  It  is  now  admitted 
that  the  reverend  gentleman,  as  is  the 
way  with  people  who  have  never  mar- 
ried, has  no  wife  at  all. 


"  It  is  announced  that  the  Porto  has  sent 
instructions  to  tho  Turkish  Commander  at 
Adrianople,  requesting  him  to  set  apart,  in 
accordance  with  the  requests  of  the  Consuls, 
a  neutral  zone  two  square  millimetres  in  ex- 
tent, within  which  foreigners  may  take  up 
their  quarters." — Birmingham  Daily  Post. 

This  should  provide  ample  quarters  for 
the  neutral  bacilli  of  the  place. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDOgj CHAEIVARL          &*»«"*<  «.  * 


THE    SUSPECT. 


THE    MERRY   HIND. 

(A  Topical  Eclogue,  with  sincere  apologies  to  Mr.  JOSN 
MASEFIELD  for  borrowing  the  metro  of  "The  Daffodil 
Fields"  in  the  current  number  of  "TJte  English 
Ecviciv,"  and  for  attempting  to  imitate  his  use  of  the 
" patJictic  fallacy.") 

I  WANDEBED  on  a  morning,  ere  the  Spring 

Had  set  a-dance  the  dancing  daffodils, 
And  heard  a  Shropshire  lad  shout  loud  and  sing 

Like  one  whpso  soul  is  cheered  by  patent  pills. 

I  will  accost,  I  thought,  this  boor  that  tills 
And  ask  him  why  his  pulses  pound  and  gallop. 
A  rook  cawed,  and  a  milestone  said,  "  Eight  milea  to 
Salop." 

I  found  him  on  a  gate.     "  Come  hither,  yokel," 
Quoth  I,  "  and  toll  me  why  thou  art  not  swinkod ; 

Eow  of  the  agricultural  distress,  the  local 

Famine  and  misery  ?  "    The  young  man  winked ; 
A  florin  passed  between  us,  and  ho  chinked 

The  coin  within  his  pouch,  then  grew  oracular. 

1  wish  I  could  do  justice  to  his  quaint  vernacular. 

"  Misery  ?  "  he  began ;  "  well,  times  was  bad ; 

J  t  's  gentlemen  like  you  that  makes  them  better  ; 
Erstwhile  we  groaned,  rebellious  and  sad, 

Under  the  squire's  and  parson's  baleful  fetter ; 

To-day  there  is  no  drouth  but  finds  a  wetter ; 
You'll  be  the  fourth  this  week."  "  Explain,  good  fellow, 
Said  I.    A  bull  in  the  near  field  began  to  bellow. 


The 


"  Last  Monday,"  he  resumed,  "  there  come  a  chap 
Collecting  folk-songs  and  old  morris  dances  ; 

Asked  if  I  'd  heard  on  some  of  them,  mayhap ; 
I  hadn't,  but  a  bloke  must  take  his  chances. 
I  tolled  a  mort  of  lies,  and  off  he  prances, 

Leaving  me  half-a-crown."    He  paused.    A  fat 

Thrush  in  a;  hedgerow  trilled.    Leaves  stirred, 
rustic  spat. 

"  Wednesday,"  he  then  went  on,  "  a  sad-eyed  cova 
Wanted  to  hear  old  tales  of  far-off  sorrows 

(That's  what  he  called  them),  bade  me  as  I  drove 
My  blinking- team  afield  on  cloud-hung  morrows 
Tell  him  of  murders  done  and  loam  that  borrows 

Its  richness  from  red  gore.     I  stuffed  him  proper. 

Easy  as  cutting  chaff,  it  was,  with  Farmer's  chopper. 

"  Three  bob  he  gave  me.    And  last  night  there  come, 
Whiles  I  was  looking  on  at  blacksmith's  forge, 

A  gent  with  ferret's  eyes  as  whispered,  '  Mum  I 
I  am  a  secret  agent  of  LLOYD  GEORGE  ; 
I  hunts  for  evidence  of  squires  that  gorge 

On  ill-got  gains  while  you  poor  hinds  have  nix.'  ^ 

A  pleasant-spoken  party ;  he  gave  three-and-sk." 

lie  ended,  and  began  to  hum  a  stavo 
Of  how  all  men  were  doing  it.     Demure 

His  glance,  as  at  the  first,  and  so  I  gave 
Two  further  bobs  and  said,  "  You  are  a  cure." 
Uprose  a  distant  scent  of  bone  manure. 

A  skylark  soared  from  grasses  soft  as  flannel, 

And  the  great   Severn    rolled    towards    the    Bristol 
Channel.  EVOE. 


PUNCH.  OB  THE  LONDON  CHABIVABI  — FEBRUABY  12,  1913. 


\\V^  NV.OK1-^  sjf    IV' 

«^^ 
^xvv/.-^/v- 


THE  EETUBN  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 


(VIDE  THE  LLOYD-GEOBQICS  — 


FEBRUABY  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


127 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  men  THE  DIARY  OP  TOBY,  M.P.) 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  Feb- 
ruary 3. — Seemed  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose that,  Insurance  Act  being  now  in 
full  working  order,  MASTERMAN  might 
look  for  relief  from  incessant  shower 
of  questions  that  through  preceding 
months,  with  singularly  refreshing  in- 
fluence, fell  upon  bis  head.  On  the  con- 
trary to-day  no  fewer  than  forty-nine 
separate  Questions  were  addressed  to 
him  upon  the  paper.  Taking  the  unit 
as  minimum  of  Supplementary  Ques- 
tions we  have  one  hundred  less  two. 
Ordeal  might  be  expected  to  sour  the 
temper  of  an  ordinary  Financial  Secre- 
tary to  the  Treasury,  the  more  so  since 
not  one  in  a  score  is  designed  to  elicit 
useful  information.  The  rest  are  pin- 
pricks more  or  less  skilfully  fashioned 
with  object  of  embarrassing  operation 
of  the  Act. 

MASTEBMAN  a  tough  customer  to 
approach  with  such  intent.  Whether 
he  reads  from  manuscript  answer  pre- 
pared in  office  or  whether  he  makes 
quick  reply  to  supplementary  enquiry 
he  is  invariably  top  dog  in  the  tussle. 
What  he  doesn't  know  about  the  in- 
tricacies of  this  elaborate  Act  isn't 
worth  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  picking  up. 


THE  VEBY  LATEST  IN  PANEL  DOCTOBS. 
(TCLLIBABDINE,  M.D.) 

Imperturbable,  impregnable,  master  of 
every  turn  in  the  tortuous  ways,  brief 
but  sufficient  in  reply,  he  is  not  one 
out  of  whom  much  change  is  to  be  got. 

This  normal  state  of  things  makes 
more  striking  TULLIBARDINE'S  success. 
Eagle  eye  of  noble  Marquis  ranging  over 
Hebridean  seas  has  discovered  a  lone 
island  whose  inhabitants  are  bravely 
wrestling  with  mysteries  of  Insurance 
Act.  Something  charming  in  simplicity 
of  question  which  brought  the  matter  to 
light  of  Southron  day.  "  To  ask  the 
SECRETARY  OF  THE  TREASURY  if  he  could 
state  the  total  population  of  the  island 
of  Canna,  and  who  is  the  panel  doctor." 

MASTERMAN  Beady  as  usual  with 
information  on  matter  of  fact.  Popu- 
lation of  Canna  all  told  is  twenty-nine. 
As  for  arrangements  for  panel  doctor 
case  obviously  difficult.  Even  upon  more 
liberal  terms  of  remuneration  wrung 
by  doctors  out  of  reluctant  CHANCELLOR 
OP  EXCHEQUER  an  able-bodied  practi- 
tioner could  hardly  be  expected  to  live 
on  the  aggregated  fees  of  a  population 
of  twenty-nine. 

True.  But  there  remains  fact  of  this 
appalling  shortcoming  of  a  statute 
framed  for  application  to  the  odd  mil- 


lions on  the  adjacent  islands  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland. 

TULLIBARDINE  not  the  man  to  rest 
content  with  barren  victory  albeit 
achieved  over  redoubtable  adversary. 
"If  the  Treasury  Canna  do  it,"  he 
whispered  in  the  sympathetic  ear  of 

WlNTERTON,  "  I  will." 

Obvious  joke ;  its  poverty  more  than 
redeemed  by  generous  purpose  it  covers. 
SARK  tells  me  TULLIBABDJNE  has  re- 
solved to  take  upon  himself  duty  evaded 
by  callous  Minister.  A  small  thing  for 
him  to  qualify  as  doctor  authorised  to 
charge  8s.  Qd.  a  case,  including  medicine. 
Regardless  of  the  weather  he  is  already 
off  to  Canna,  carrying  with  him  stock 
of  medicines  and  surgical  instruments, 
together  with  a  red  lamp  to  hang  over 
the  front  door  of  his  bothie. 

Interesting  case ;  will  be  closely 
watched  by  old  associates  on  both  sides 
of  Tweed  who  would  never  think  of 
personally  volunteering  for  such  a  duty. 

Business  done. — Report  stage  of 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill 
entered  upon. 

Tuesday. — House,  worn  out  with  work 
of  a  Session  already  twelve  months 
long,  is  steeped  in  lees  of  apathetic 


128 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  12,  1913. 


indifference.  To-day  reached  what  in  i  scanty  gathering  of  Ministerialists 
ordinary  circumstances  would  be  climax  rising  to  continue  debate,  SPEAKER  put 
of  tempestuous  controversy.  Before:  the  Question.-  When  in  response  to 
Sitting  closes  Keport  stage  of  Welsh  '  clangour  of  Division  hell  the  opposing 
Church  Bill  will  be  submitted  for  de-  hosts  flocked  in,  it  was  discerned  how 
If  carried  on  a  division  there  |  dangerous  for  Government  was  sud- 

Tliere  seemed 
of  the  Oppo- 


cision. 


will   remain  only  Third  Eeading  and  denly  created  situation. 


such  limited  delay  as  the  Lords  can  to.  be   no   end   to  trail 
provide. 

Nevertheless,  attendance  scanty,  de- '  anxiety   on    Treasury    Bench.     When 


:  sition.     Result   awaited  with  growing 


bate  desultory,  yawning  general.  Only  j  paper  was  handed  to  Government  Whip 
gleam  of  light  on  dreary  atmosphere  j  in  token  that  majority  was  on  his 
shines  from  prize  carnation  in  MARK  side  sigh  of  relief  went  up.  Drowned 


LOCKWOOD'S  buttonhole.  As  the  gallant 
Colonel,  strolling  in  from  the  kitchen 
over  whose  important  business  he  suc- 
culently  presides,  walked  up  floor  of 
House,  -seated  himself  on  Treasury 
Bench,  hitched  his  hat  back  at  perilous 


angle  and  settled  himself  for  little 
snooze,  Members  on  either  side 
were  stirred  by  sudden  move- 
ment towards  briskness.  Effect 
temporary.  As  PREMIER  re- 
marked to  his  constituents  the 
other  day,  a  political  party 
cannot  live  by  hysterics  alone. 
Similarly,  a  sap-dried  House  of 
Commons  cannot  buck .  up  at 
sight  (in  another  man's  coat)  of 
a  single  carnation  however  large 
and  fine. 

Condition  of  things  templing 
to  alert  Opposition  Whip  ever 
on  the  look  out  for  opportunity 
of  arranging  pleasant  surprises. 
First  point  in  debate  on  Keport 
stage  raised  important  question 
of  ultimate  possession  of  glebe 
lands.  According  to  the  Bill 
these  are  to  go  for  secular  pur- 
poses with,  the  rest  of  what 
Captain  TBYON  calls  "  the  plun- 
der." Amendment  moved  re- 
taining them  for  the  Church. 

A  big  question  stirring  the  depths 
on  either  side  of  controversy.  Good  for 
at  least  a  couple  of  hours'  debate.  In 
view  of  that  alluring  prospect  House 
further  emptied.  Doleful  doings  under 
eye  of  SPEAKER.  Outside,  more  par- 
ticularly in  little  room  in  corner  of 
Lobby  conveniently  adjoining  the  bar 
where  Opposition  Whips  foregather, 
excitement  suddenly  burst  forth. 

Heads  carefully  counted.  Good 
Ministerialists,  reckoning  on  prolonga- 
tion of  debate,  tamed  on  the  way  to 
Westminster.  By  one  of  those  chances 
that  occasionally  cheer  the  chronically 
disappointed,  there  was  marked  excep- 
tion as  regards  muster  of  Opposition 
within  call.  Better  remain  out  of  sight 

I    the   well-calculated  moment 
reached. 

It  came  at  ten  minutes  to  five,  just 
half-an-hour    later     than     BANBURY'S 


in  burst  of  cheering  from  Opposition, 
renewed  again  and  again  when,  the 
figures  read  out,  it  was  made  known 
that  Ministry  were  saved  by  narrow 
majority  of  28. 

Opposition  mustered  220  against  248 
voting  with  the  Government,  and  of 


was 


famous     snap     division, 
orators  suddenly  dried  up. 


Opposition 
No  one  in 


The  "  only  gleam  of  light." 
(Col.  MAUK  LOCKWOOD.) 

these  three-score  were  Irish  National- 
ists. 

Two  hours  later,  when  guillotine  set 
to  work  on'-'  mass  of  amendments, 
Government  majority  ran  up  to  116. 
Opposition  roll  had  dwindled  to  181. 
Later  it  ran  down  to  164.  They  had 
skilfully  played  their  game,  nearly  won 
it,  and  deserved  some  relaxation. 

Business  done.  —  Eeport  stage  of 
Bill  carried. 

Wednesday. — Amid  renewed  protest 
from  Opposition  Third  Reading  of 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill 
passed  without  a  division.  Strength 
of  parties  tested  on  ALFRED  LYTTEL- 
TON'S  motion  for  rejection  of  Bill- 
negatived  by  347  against  240.  Whereat 
Welsh  Members  leapt  to  their  feet, 
waving  pocket-handkerchiefs  and  copies 
of  Orders  of  the  Day. 

"Not  out  of  the  wood  yet,"  mur- 
mured COUSIN  HUGH,  regarding  specta- 
cle opposite  with  acrid  smile.  "  Thank 
Heaven  for  the  House  of  Lords,  which 


will  guard  the  Church  for  at  least  two 
years.  No  one  knows  what  may  not 
happen  in  the  interval." 

Peculiarity  of  last  stage  that  assist- 
ance of  guillotine,  familiar  through 
Committee  as  presence  of  the  Mace, 
was  not  invoked.  Nevertheless,  suc- 
cessive speakers  from  Opposition 
Benches  denounced  and  deplored  its 
domination.  JOHN  DILLON,  in  most 
effective  speech  delivered  by  him 
recent  times,  comforted  them  by  re- 
flection that  their  sad  case  was 
curiously  similar  to  that  of  the  in- 
ventor of  the  Parisian  model.  Dr. 
GUILLOTINE  had  his  head  lopped  otf  into 
one  of  the  baskets  of  his  own  devising. 
It  was  OLD  MORTALITY  who,  Loader 
of  overwhelming  Unionist  majority  in 
1887,  adapted  the  guillotine  for  use 
in  Parliamentary  affairs.  Now 
it  has  been  instrumental  in 
carrying  two  measures  extreme- 
ly  distasteful  to  good  Unionists. 
"  Vou's  I'avez  voulu,  vous  I'avez 
voulu,  George  Dandin." 

Business  done. — Welsh 
Church  Bill  passed  final  stage 
and  sent  on  to  Lords. 


6s.  6d. 

WE  were  talking  about  the 
really  difficult  things  of  life. 

"  The  most  "difficult"  thing  I 
know,"  said  the  plaintive  man, 
"  is  to  pay  a  bill  for  6s.  6d.,"  and 
at  once  was  started  a  discussion 
on  money  which  revealed  a  num- 
ber of  curious  peculiarities  and 
unexpected  grudgings. 

"For  6s.  6d.,"  the  plaintive 
man  continued,  "  is  too  small  a 
sum  for  a  cheque  and  that  means 
facing  all  the  appalling  difficulties  of 
the  post-office.  You  know,  I  suppose, 
what  post-offices  are?  The  assistants 
on  whose  faces  is  written  the  know- 
ledge that  no  amount  of  zeal  over  their 
sales  can  ever  make  any  difference  to 
them,  as  it  no  doubt  does  in  such  firms  as 
thlit  which  writes  all  the  best  articles  in 
the  evening  papers ;  the  unreadiness  of 
any  one  to  serve  you ;  your  own  inde- 
cision as  to  where  you  ought  to  stand 
to  be  served ;  your  reluctance  to  in- 
terrupt the  assistant's  mathematical 
studies  ;  the  over-crowding ;  the  under 
ventilation;  and  more  than  all  this," 
he  went  on,  "the  horrid  fact  that  a 
postal  order  has  to  be  paid  for — no 
one  can  yet  open  an  account  at  a  post- 
office — and  6s.  Gd.,  while  too  small  a 
sum  for  a  cheque,  is  too  large  to  be  paid 
in  cash ;  or  rather  it  belongs  to  one  of 
the  groups  of  coins  which  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  part  with  under  a  stiff 
wrench.  No  doubt  every  one  has  such 
;roups.  I  know  only  too  well  what 


FEBRUARY  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVAKI. 


129 


mine  are.  I  am  not  generous  or  a 
spendthrift,  but  sums  up  to  3s.  Gd.  1 
can  dispense  without  any  noticeable 
twinges.  Sums  between  a  penny  and 
3s.  Gd.  are,  when  I  have  them,  at  the 
disposal  of  my  friends,  and  I  can  even 
produce  3s.  Gd.  twice  within  a  short 
period  and  not  blench.  Any  of  you 
men  heio  who  came  to  me  at  any  time 
and  said,  '  Lend  me  3s.  Gd.,'  would  at 
once  get  it,  although  I  hope  you  won't. 
But  1  look  very  long  at  5s.  or  7s.  They 
are  sums  I  liko  to  retain.  I  feol  that 
I  am  the  host  caretaker  for  them.  The 
odd  thing  is  that  my  pocket  can  be 
depleted  of  small  sums  making  up  7s. 
two  or  three  times  over;  but  I  can't 
pay  out  7s.  in  tho  lump.  Yet  half- 
sovereigns,  although  I  am  never  reckless 
with  them,  I  can  transfer  from  my  own 
hand  to  another's  without  grief.  Imme- 
diately after  the  half-sovereign,  how- 
ever, I  stop  again.  The  idea  of  paying 
out  lls.  Gd.,  say,  or  12s.  or  13s.  Gd.  or 
14s.  Gd.  is  intensely  repugnant  to  me. 
I  mean  all  at  once ;  I  can  do  it  piece- 
meal only  too  easily;  but  not  at  a 
blow.  The  thought  of  lls.  Gd.  going 
bang  is  unendurable.  But  after  15s.  1 
weaken  again,  but  only  if  I  pay  in  gold. 
For  by  that  time  one  realises  that  the 
game  is  up ;  the  sovereign  is  smashed 
and  any  change  you  get  from  it  is  all 
sheer  profit.  Hence  I  can  pay  17s.  Gd. 
for  a  thing  with  composure,  because  I 
am  making  half-a-crown  out  of  the 
deal.  But  ask  mo  to  add  together 
small  coins  to  the  amount  of  17s.  Gd. 
and  see  mo  refuse !  Not  to  be  done. 

"But  the  sovereign  is  the  limit.  After 
that  I  am  incapable  of  paying  in  specie. 
It  is  then  that  the  cheque-book  begins 
its  useful  life.  I  can  write  a  cheque 
without  turning  a  hair  for  any  amount 
between  one  pound  and  five ;  but  after 
that  my  paying  capacity  ceases.  All 
else  is  drawn  from  me  only  by  torture, 
with  blood  and  tears  in  its  wake." 

The  plaintive  man  paused.  "  Such," 
ho  said,  "  is  my  currency  creed." 

"  I  am  not  conscious,"  said  the  thin 
man,  "  of  any  of  those  distinctions  and 
shades.  To  me  money  is  a  hardly-won 
commodity  which  I  consistently  hate 
to  transfer  to  others.  Yet  I  have  so 
far  got  over  this  objection  that  I  do 
all  day  long  pay  it  out  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  life.  One  thing,  however,  I 
cannot  do :  I  cannot  buy  railway-tickets 
of  over  a  pound.  Hence  I  never  leave 
the  country.  I  simply  cannot  bring 
myself  to  do  it.  The  Continent  is 
closed  to  me ;  and  a  glance  at  the  fares 
in  the  A.B.G.  will  show  you  in  a 
moment  what  towns  and  villages  I 
shall  never  see  in  my  own  land." 

"  Well,"  said  tho  short  man,  "  I  can 
pay  for  tickets  all  right;  but  what  I 
hate  most  is  paying  for  food.  Because, 


First  Batter.  "Dm  TOU  TAKE  rocs  DOCTOB'S  OPINIOS  BEFOBB  HAVEIO  A  TUBKISH 

BATH?" 

Second  Batlter.  "Mr  DEAB  FELLOW!   TAKE  THE  OPINION  o»  A  JIAH  WHO  TOLD  SIB  TO 

ire  FACE  THAI  TOBACCO  WAS   ISJUKIOUS?" 


of  course,  that 's  wrong.  Our  food  ought 
to  be  given  to  us.  But  of  all  food  I 
most  resent  the  price  of  apples.  Apples, 
above  all  things,  should  be  free.  The 
idea  of  having  to  pay  for  an  apple  in- 
furiates me,  particularly  in  restaurants, 
where  they  are  often  sixpence  each." 

"  The  measure  of  all  men's  gener- 
osity," said  the  quiet  man,  who  had 
not  yet  spoken,  "is  their  capacity  to 
pay  for  fruit." 

"Well,  personally,"  said  the  stout 
man,  "  I  always  think  the  height  of 
illicit  payment  is  reached  in  the  charge 
made  to  enter  TATTERSALL'S  ring.  For 
obviously  one  should  be  paid  to  go 
there,  since  it  exists  only  that  one 


may  be  induced  to  part.  I  would  go 
to  any  extreme  to  avoid  paying  that 
iniquitous  sovereign." 

"  None  of  you,"  said  I,  "  has  really 
hit  on  the  maddest  of  all  financial  ad- 
ventures for  an  Englishman." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  they  asked. 

"  Changing  a  sovereign  in  Holland," 
I  said.  

"  This  sauce  is  an  excellent  relish  with  beer, 
hot  or  cold,  as  may  be : — Mis  a  wineglassful 
of  good  vinegar  with  equal  quantities  of 
pounded  sugar  and  mustard,  a  teaspoonful 
of  each,  and  about  a  tablespponful  of  grated 
horseradish." — Newcastle  Daily  Chronicle. 
Thank  you  very  much,  but  \va  prefer 
our  beer  neat. 


130 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI._          [FEBBUABY  12,  1913. 


A   QUESTION    OF   PRONUNCIATION. 

IT  was  the  girl  who  sometimes  helped  in  the  neighbour- 
ing Hat  and  she  was  addressing  the  porter  on  the  landing  :— 
"  Wo  'ad  a  real  olo  go  at  "omo  last  night.  It  makes  me 
all  of  a  trimblo  to  think  of  it.  But  there,  you  never  know 
what 's  a-goin'  to  'appen  when  Uncle  Bill  gits  along  o'  father. 
Fust  they  starts  talkiu'  and  jorin'  about  their  politics,  and 
then  they  gits  argifyin"  and  naggin"  at  one  another, 
and  then  they  gits  to  throwin'  things  about  and  pastin'  one 
another,  and  then  the  fat's  in  the  food,  as  the  sayin'  is. 
Mind  you,  they  don't  go  for  to  mean  it  like  that.  They 
both  thinks  they  're  the  kind  o'  men  that 's  got  a  very  good 
temper  and  can  make  allowances,  hut  as  far  as  I've  seen 
'eni  when  they  begins  soft  and  kind  they  ends  cruel 
hard;  and  it  isn't  so  much  what  they  say,  it 's  the  good  food 
they  chuck  abaht  and  the  plates  and  dishes  they  break. 
Uncle  Bill 's  got  one  o'  the  'andsomest  marks  you  ever  see 
on  a  man's  forrid  all  along  of  a  cabbige-dish.  Father 
ketched  'im  a  crack  with  it  a  year  ago  come  last  November, 
when  they  was  explainin'  the  Insurance  Act  to  mother. 
The  doctor  put  the  stitches  in  and  advised  'em  to  quit 
talkin'  about  setch  big  things  after  supper.  It  vexed 
Uncle  Bill  and  'e  didn't  come  visitin'  us  for  a  matter  o'  six 
weeks. 

"  Well,  last  night  Uncle  Bill  comes  in  sudden  like,  and 
mother  says  to  'im,  'Lor,  Bill,'  she  says,  'you  give  me  quite 
a  turn,'  and  'e  says,  '  That  'a  a  nice  thing  to  say  to  yer  only 
brother,'  'e  says ;  '  but,  bless  you,  I  'm  not  one  to  keep  my 
grudge  a-boilin','  'e  says,  '  and  anyhow  it  was  all  in  the 
family,  wasn't  it,  Jim  ? '  'e  says,  with  a  look  at  father ;  and 
father  says,  '  Things  do  git  'ealed  over,  don't  they,  Bill  ? ' 
and  then  they  both  started  larfin',  and  mother  said  there  was 
sossidges  and  mash  for  supper  and  I  was  to  run  round 
quick  and  fetch  another  quart  o'  beer. 

"  When  I  got  back  with  the  beer  I  found  "em  setting  to 

work  on  the  sossidges  and  all  three  as  friendly  as  you  like. 

Uncle  Bill 's  a  very  proud  man  and  'e 's  got  a  nice  little  bit 

o'  property — 'ouses,  you  know,  and  that  kind  o'  thing,  and 

'im  bein'  a  batcheldore,  mother's  always  tellin'  father  to 

burner  'im  more  and  let  'im  talk,  becoz  she  says  'is  'eart  's 

in  the  right  place  and  if  'e  was  to  be  took  fust  it  might 

make  a  big  difference  to  us.    Uncle  Bill  was  sayin'  'e  'd  seen 

a  tidy  little  bit  o'  land  for  buildin'  a  shop  or  two,  and  father 

says,  '  Why  don't  you  nip  in  and  buy  it  ? '  'e  says.   '  It  '11 

always  be  there,"  'e  says.  '  Land  and  shops  can't  run  away." 

Uncle  Bill  looks  at  'im  and  says  very  quiet  as  'e  'd  buy  it  in 

a  minute  if  it  wasn't  for  LLOYD  GEOKGE.     '  What 's  LLOYD 

GEORGE  done  to  you  now  ?  '  says  father.     Uncle  Bill  says 

LLOYD  GEORGE  'aa  got  "is  knife  into  the  land  and  all  men 

o'  landed  property  'ave  got  to  combine  agin  this  'ere  new 

land  kimpane  or  else  LLOYD  GEOKGE  '11  git  'em  in  the  cart 

and  tax  'em  to  rags :  '  'E  's  a  reggler  pest,'  says  Uncle  Bill, 

•  that 's  what  'e  is.'     Father  says,  '  'E 's  a  better  man  any 

day  o'  the  week  than  this  'ere  BONAR  LAW  that  you  're  all 

so  pleased  with.     'Ow  about  food  taxes  ? '  'e  says.     '  What 

are  you  to  think  of  a  man  like  that,  blowin'  'ot  and  strong 

all  in  one  go  ?  '    Uncle  Bill  swallers  the  sossidge  and  potato 

'e  'd  got  in  'is  mouth  and  then  lets  LLOYD  GEOKGE  have  it 

to  rights.    '  'E 's  underminin'  confidence,'  'e  says, '  and  arter 

all  'e  's  no  more  than  a  little  Welsh  attorney.'    That 's  'ow 

'e  pernounced  it,   same  as   you'd  say  horny  or  thorny. 

Father  laughs  a  sort  of  cold  laugh  and  then  'e  says  very 

scornful,    'Attorney,   attorney!     Where  did  you  git  your 

eddication,  Bill  Sampson  ? '  'e  says.     '  When  I  was  in  the 

Board  School  they  taught  us  better  nor  that.     Attorney 's 

the  word  you  're  lookin'  for,  Bill.    But  o'  course  I  'm  always 

glad  to  'elp  them  as  ain't  so  well  eddicated  as  others."  Uncle 

Bill  got  redder  'n  a  turkey,  and  'e  says,  '  You  can  say  what 


you  like,  but  that 's  what  'o  is,  a  little  Welsh  attorney."  O' 
course  father  couldn't  stand  that,  so  'e  takes  the  last  sossidge 
and  chucks  it  in  Uncle  Bill's  face,  and  then  they  'ad  a  bit  of 
a  set-to,  and  Uncle  Bill  said  'e  'd  shake  our  nawsty  dust  orf 
of  'is  feet.  Talk  o'  strained  relations  o'  Turkey,  it  ain't  a 
patch  on  what 's  'appeued  in  our  family." 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS. 

I  PUT  aside  my  knife  and  fork  and  ponder — 
Ponder  some  memories  of  bygone  days, 

When  I,  a  careless  lad,  was  wont  to  wander 
About  a  Cornish  undercliff  and  blaze 

At  bunnies  blinking  by  the  summer  sea : 

I  blazed  at  them  who  couldn't  blaze  at  me. 

And  though  I  called  it  sport,  this  wanton  slaughter 
(For  take  my  word,  I  potted  more  than  one), 

My  mother  said,  since  home  they  never  brought  her 
Warrior  dead  of  shots  from  his  own  gun, 

"  It  isn't  sport,  I  take  it,  to  attack 

A  harmless  thing  that  cannot  hit  you  back." 

I  never  knew  what  happened  to  those  rabbits ; 

I  never  ate  'em — oh,  I  wish  I  had! 
Myself,  acquiring  sedentary  habits 

And  cancelling  the  licence  of  a  lad, 
Became  a  journalist,  and  now  abide 
In  modest  chambers  on  the  Surrey  side. 

I  never  knew  what  happened  to  those  bunnies, 
But,  sitting  vanquished  here  before  my  plate, 

I  know — I  say  I  know  1 — at  last  where  one  is ; 
I  slew  this  fellow  on  a  far-off  date. 

Sport  ?  0  my  victim  of  the  limp  lop-ears, 

You  've  got  your  own  back  after  all  these  years ! 


Valentines. 

The  PRIME  MINISTER  to  a  Disappointed  Contributor  to  tlie 
Party  Funds : — 

"  Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets." 
Mrs.  PANEHUKST  to  The  PRIME  MINISTER  : — 
"  La  Belle  Dame  sans  merci 
Hath  thee  in  thrall." 

A  Conservative  Working-Nan  to  Mr.  J.  K.  HARDIE  : — 
"  I  could  not  love  thee,  KEIR,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  BONAB  more." 

Mr.  BIRRELL  to  Mr.  GINNELL  : — 

"  Ask  me  no  more." 


Great  Newspaper  Duel. 

Says  the  Shrewsbury  Commercial  and  Literary  Circular  in 
a  paragraph  headed  "  The  Devil  reproving  Sin  "  : — 

"  This  week's  '  Punch  '  has  reproduced  a  printer's  error  which  crept 
into  our  paper  a  fortnight  ago,  by  which  an  advertisement  was  made 
to  road  '  ALE  cordially  invited.'  As  showing  how  easily  such  errors 
are  niado  '  Punch '  itself,  the  great  and  only,  makes  a  blunder  in 
stating  that  the  error  occurcd  in  the  '  Shrewsbury  Commercial  and 
Literary  Chronicle.' " 

"  The  Devil "  is  tempted  to  have  another  go ;  he  therefore 
points  out  that  "occured"  is  better  spelt  with  two  "r's." 
Now  it  is  TheShrewsbury  Commercial  and  Literary  Circular's 
turn  again. 

"WASTED.  Second-hand  Cottage  Piano,  cheap,  for  learner  ;  out  of 
repair  no  objection." — Advt.  in  "  Bristol  Times." 

A  cowardly  habit,  hitting  a  piano  when  it 's  down. 


FEBTOAI.I  12,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  131 


Sportsman  (from  tmcn).  "WHAT  SILLS  BEGGABS  FABMEKS  ABE!  ALWAYS  SEEM  TO  PUT  GATES  is  THK  VEBT  MUDDIEST  PABT  ov 

A  FIELD." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MY  only  complaint  about  "  FRANK  DANBY'S  "  latest  story, 
Concert  Pitch  (HUTCHINSON),  is  that  she  takes  rather  too 
long  over  keying  it  up.  This  done,  however,  the  tone  and 
the  tune  are  alike  excellent.  All  the  part  about  Mafitielld 's 
early  engagements,  first  to  the  depraved  Duke  and  then  to 
the  eligible  Earl,  I  found  unconvincing  to  the  point  of 
boredom.  It  was  not  till  Marvuella  herself  grew  so  bored 
with  it  that  in  a  fit  of  pique  she  eloped  with  Migotti,  the 
musician,  and  went  to  live  with  him  and  his  queer  friend 
Gerald  in  their  ramshackle  house  in  Bedford  Square,  that 
the  tale  began  to  show  signs  of  life.  Thence  onwards  it 
was  vivacious  enough.  "  FRANK  DANDY  "  has  certainly  the 
art  of  making  you  know  the  persons  she  knows  herself ;  in 
this  book  she  seems  to  have  caught  to  perfection  the 
Musical  Set,  half  Bohemian,  half  society  hangers-on,  with 
their  jealousies  and  triumphs  and  intrigues.  Also  the 
emotions  of  a  delicately  nurtured  girl  suddenly  plunged 
into  a  world  where  she  is  considered  as  nothing  but 
the  highly  privileged  servant  of  a  husband  for  whom  she 
has  never  really  cared  (compelled  even  to  do  her  own 
cooking  and  to  subordinate  herself  to  his  every  mood),  seem 
very  subtly  and  successfully  conveyed.  I  am  somewhat 
less  certain  about  the  villain,  Peter  Graham  (fancy  a  villain 
called  Peter  t  0  tempora  I  0  mores  I),  chiefly  because  I  am 
always  incredulous  about  these  professional  breakers-of- 
hearts,  with  their  "once  on  the  Eiviera  and  the  girl  is 
ours  1 "  It  is  perhaps  my  loss  never  to  have  encountered  a 
specimen  in  actual  life.  But  in  a  story  they  are  well 
enough,  especially  since  (as  here)  they  are  invariably  foiled 
before  the  last  chapter. 


Miss  "  MABJOEIE  BOWEN  "  is  doing  much  to  remove  the 
prejudice  which  has  grown  in  my  mind  against  the  modern 
crop  of  historical  fiction.  She  is  never  boring,  and  it  was 
with  cheery  confidence  that  I  opened  A  Knight  of  Spain 
(METHUEN).  Exactly  how  many  bocks  Miss  "  BOWEN  "  has 
published  in  the  last  twelve  months  I  dare  not  say.  Yet 
her  work  is  as  fresh  and  vigorous  as  ever,  and  I  am  inclined 
to  think  A  Knight  of  Spain  her  best  performance.  (This 
is  written  without  prejudice  to  the  volume  or  volumes  from 
her  pen  which  may  be  published  while  this  review  is  going 
to  press.)  A  Knight  of  Spain  is  the  completed  picture  for 
which  "  The  Camp  outside  Namur,"  in  her  God's  Playthings, 
was  the  rough  sketch.  That  story  dealt  only  with  the 
death  of  the  ill-fated  Don  Juan  of  Austria.  This  novel 
takes  the  reader  through  each  detail  of  his  extraordinary 
career.  We  see  him  as  the  student  of  Alcala,  the  victor  of 
Lepanto,  the  Governor  of  the  Netherlands,  and,  finally,  the 
broken  victim  of  KING  PHILIP'S  hatred,  dying  at  the  age  of 
twenty-eight  in  the  pigeon-house  among  the  corn-fields  on 
the  hill  of  Bouges.  My  principal  emotion  on  finishing  the 
book,  apart  from  a  feeling  of  gratitude  to  Miss  "  BOWEN  "  for 
an  excellent  story,  was  a  horror,  which  the  history-books  of 
my  youth  had  never  conveyed  to  me,  of  that  sinister  man, 
KINO  PHILIP  of  Spain.  Not  oven  Mr.  Louis  N.  PAKKEE 
could  feel  a  greater  esteem  for  DRAKE  than  I  did  on  closing 
A  Knight  of  Spain. 

Everyone  knows  by  this  time  that  Mr.  BERNARD  CAPES, 
whose  last  book  is  a  collection  of  stories  entitled  Bag  and 
Baggage  (CONSTABLE),  can  write  with  distinction  and  a 
delicate  choice  of  epithets,  that  he  can  hit  upon  unusual  and 
interesting  situations,  and  that  he  is  a  good  hand  at  giving 
us  "  creeps."  The  worst  of  it  is  that  he  so  seldom  manages 


132  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  12,  1913. 


to  do  all  these  things  at  the  same  time.     He  is  liable  to 
spoil  good  writing  with  an  unsatisfactory  denouement  or  to 

11  a  nice  plot  by  relapsing  into  a  commonplace  style. 

•.is  reason  I  found  very  few  of  the  stories  in  lltiii  and 
HiiijiliKji'  completely  successful,  and  I  must  particularly 
cavil  at  the  use  of  a  derelict  balloon,  a  sort  of  machine  c.r  dco, 
used  in  the  second  of  them,  to  solve  a  very  dark  and  uncanny 
mystery  of  footsteps  in  the  snow  that  never  returned.  J 
in  1 1  led  to  expect  a  far  more  ghostly  piece  of  luggage  than  a 
mere  gas-bag  to  come  up  out  of  the  van  after  so  harrowing 
an  excursion  into  the  shadows.  On  the  whole  I  liked  best 
"The  Hamadryad  "  (I  suppose  she  is  one  of  the  "  baggages"), 
a  warning  to  entomologists  not  to  be  emotional  pagans  as 
well,  and  "  The  King's  Star,"  where  the  writer  courts  his  best 
muse — the  historico-romantie.  Eleven  of  these  yarns  are 
entitled  "  From  Grave,"  and  the  other  five  "  To  Gay,"  but 
the  hilarious  ones,  with  the  possible  exception  of  "Bullet- 
proof," did  not  make  me  chuckle  much.  All  the  same  (if  you 
will  kindly  step  round  to  ( — 
the  lost  property  office, 
please,  next  door),  you 
may  easily  make  a  very 
much  worse  bargain  than 
Mr.  BERNARD  GAPES'S 
Bag  and  Baggage. 

If  I  congratulate  Mr. 
HABOLD  SPENDER  on  hav- 
ing  composed  a  straight- 
forward, honest  and  in- 
teresting story  —  The 
Call  of  the  Siren  (MILLS 
AND  BOON) — on  having 
put  plenty  of  incident  in 
it,  and  on  having  written 
it  in  a  style  which  is 
both  clear  and  forcible, 
he  may  possibly  not  feel 
altogether  pleased.  It 
may,  for  aught  I  know, 
be  his  ambition  to  write 
something  drab  and 
sordid  and  gloomily 
fatalistic  in  the  stylo 
that  passes  muster  for 
fine  writing  and  thus- 
to  earn  the  plaudits  of 
and  complicated  misery, 
that  I  prefer  The  Call 


relations,  will  sympathise  with  the  position  of  Fanny  Floate 
in  A  Runaway  liintj  (HEINEMANN).  On  the  other  hand, 
many  an  outraged  family  will  sympathise  with  the  feelings 
of  the  Baigents  on  being  subjected  to  the  criticism  and 
opposition  of  so  independent  and  unattached  a  creature 
as  Fanny.  These  Baigents  were  used  to  absorbing  the 
husband  of  any  of  their  daughters  into  tho  bosom  of  their 
elan,  so  that  he,  with  (hem,  came  to  have  no  other  point  of 
view  than  that  of  "  us  Baigents."  They  expected  the  same 
of  their  son's  wife;  possibly  they  might  have  recognised 
to  some  small  extent  the  claims  of  her  blood  relations,  but 
when  it  appeared  that  in  Fanny's  case  there  was  none  of 
these,  not  even,  to  be  candid,  an  acknowledged  parent,  they 
could  see  no  reason  for  her  wanting  to  be  anything  else  in 
the  world  save  one  of  them.  There  is,  no  doubt,  much  to  be 
said  for  their  point  of  view,  and  Mrs.  HENKY  DUDKNKY,  who 
shows  a  fine  impartiality  in  her  vivid  study,  says  it.  It  is 
woman's  mind  and  character  that  Mrs.  DUDENF.Y  most 

cleverly  dissects,  and  all 
her  women,  but  es- 
pecially the  wild  and 
harassed  Frusannah,  are 
excellently  portrayed. 
Men,  properly  so  called, 
she  hardly  attempts  in 
this  instance  ;  what  suc- 
cess she  achieves  with 
Ninian  Baigcnt  and  his 
appalling  brother-in-law- 
she  achieves  by  her  un- 
derstanding of  her  own 
sex,  which  enables  her 
to  detect  and  expose  the 
fundamental  effeminacy 
of  one  type  of  male. 


Oto'Av 


THE  ROMANCE   OF  LOST  OLD  MASTERS. 

A   PICT0BE-DEALER   DISCOVERS    IN    HOLLAND    TWO   PRICELESS    CANVASES    BY 


mis- 


those  who  revel  in   unrelieved 
For  my  part  I  can  assure  him 
of  the  Siren.     The  character  of 

Oliver ^Martin,  whose  life  is  darkened  by  the  shadow  of  his 
father's  crime,  is  finely  conceived,  though  I  think  Mr. 
SPENDER  winds  him  up  to3  abruptly,  just  as  his  real  career 
is  beginning.  The  beautiful  nature  of  his  mother  has  been 
lovingly  and  carefully  studied,  and  I  should  have  liked  more 
of  her.  The  Siren  herself  is  Alice  Dnbois,  later  Alice 
Eardlcy,  whom  (according  to  Mr.  SPENDER'S  intention)  I 
don't  like  at  all.  Yet  I  cannot  say  that  she  is  unreal  or 
that  her  actions  are  impossible.  My  favourite  out  of  the 
whole  bunch  is  O'Brien,  the  faithful,  loyal  and  affectionate 
Irishman,  a  character  of  whom  the  author  has  every 
right  to  be  proud.  On  the  whole  I  think  I  must  earn-  out 
my  purpose  of  congratulating  Mr.  SPENDER. 

The  British  family  is  a  magnificent  institution,  which  is 
apt  on  occasions  to  become  a  dreadful  obsession.  The 
iiother-m-law,  in  spite  of  the  ancient  jest,  remains  a 

rmidable  fact ;  and  many  a  girl,  who  has  sworn  and 
;  to  love,  honour  and  obey  her  husband,  but  has 

ither  sworn  nor  intends  to  do  the  same  by  her  husband's 


One   of    the   most 
guided  men 

I  've  come  across  is  P.  C. 
WEEN. 

On     Indian     Education 
he's 

An     expert ;    that     one 
plainly  sees 

(No   man   whose  know- 
ledge was  not  wide 


Could  write  an  Indian  Teacher's  Guide). 

But — this  it  is  that  makes  me  warm — 

He  will  attempt  the  fiction  form. 

A  poorer  tale  I  'vo  seldom  seen 

Than  Dew  and  Mildew  (LONGMANS,  GREEN). 

His  characters  are  chunks  of  wood ; 

He  rambles  as  no  writer  should. 

He  shelves  his  story,  page  on  page, 

While  comic  children  hold  the  stage. 

These  things,  and  others,  raise  my  spleen 

In  Dew  and  Mildew  (LONGMANS,  GREEN). 

Abandon  fiction,  Mr.  WREN, 

And  stick  to  Teachers'  Guides ;  and  then 

Perhaps  'twill  fall  to  me  one  day 

In  my  enthusiastic  way 

To  write,  "  This  book  t  could  not  praise 

Too  highly  if  I  tried  for  days." 

I  can't  say  that,  with  conscience  clean, 

Of  Dew  and  Mildew  (LONGMANS,  GREEN). 


"  Young  Ladj-  would  assist  with  chocolates  and  sweets,  Saturday 5. ' 

Warringtm 

bo  would  some  others  we  know  of,  and  gladly. 


I'KliKUARY    11),    1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  Tllti   LONDON   CHAEIVARI. 


133 


CHARIVARIA. 

How  true  it  is  that  even  the  very 
greatest  have  their  cross  to  bear,  just  as 
imich  as  the  rest  of  us.  It  is  officially 
staled  that  lliree  helpings  of  meat  are 
no  longer  permitted  to  those  who  take 
(.In-  shilling  dinner  at  tho  House  of 

Commons.  *  * 

* 

We  take  exception  to  the  criticism 
in  The  Express  of  the  provincial  lion 
which  has  just  laid  an  unusually  small 
egg.  It  may  be  small,  but, 
carefully  aimed,  it  might  just 
make  the  difference  between 
a  dull  and  an  interesting 
political  meeting. 

We  would  also  point  out  to 
a  correspondent  of  the  same 
paper,  who  reports  hearing  a 
lark  last  week  at  Bromley 
and  describes  the  bird's  song 
as  "not  very  good  or  clear," 
that  the  lark  had  probably 
only  just  left  its  watery  nest. 
A  (Limp  bed  would  account 

for  any  little  hoarseness. 

*  * 

To  such  of  our  panel 
doctors  as  are  not  gorged 

with  their  gains  and  thinking 
of  retiring  with  a  fortune  the 
case  of  one  GUSTAV  PROBST, 
of  Switzerland,  may  bo  of 

-•st.     Ho  has  just  died, 

ing  £'28,000,  amassed 
from  one-and-eightpenny  fees 
for  his  medicine,  which,  we 
are  lold,  consisted  in  all  cases 
of  pounded  rhubarb  and 
In  "'I  root.  ^  .,, 

Tlio  fact  that,  at  a  recent 
Society  wedding  in  Balti- 
more, U.S.A.,  it  only  took 
three  policemen  to  rescue  the 
bride  from  tho  crowd,  who 
were  clipping  souvenirs  off 
her  dress,  convinces  us  that 
the  American  spectator  is  losing  his  da?h. 

•}'      '•',' 

"They  manage  these  things  better 
in  Mexico,"  sighed  an  enthusiastic 
Unionist,  on  reading  that  the  Cabinet 
Ministers  of  that  country  had  been 
chased  out  of  the  capital  and  \vero  now 
in  hiding  in  the  suburbs. 
*  ,* 

Tha  Dancing  Craze.  —  First  the 
Turkey  Trot,  and  now  the  Territorial 
Breakdown.  „,  „, 

* 

Champagne  destroys  tho  teeth,  says 
a  dentist.  Too  late,  however,  to  save 
Mr.  BEN  TILLETT,  whose  celebrated 
dinner-party  is  now  quite  ancient 

history. 


We  have  seldom  heard  of  a  more 
excellent  idea  than  that  of  the  New 
York  suffragettes,  who  have  decided  to 
ride  on  horseback  to  San  Francisco. 
Mr.  J'unch's  heartiest  moral  support 
will  bo  given  to  such  London  militants 
as  decide  to  attempt  something  on  the 
same  lines.  A  pilgrimage  to,  say, 
Peru,  if  they  took  their  time  over  it 
and  did  not  hurry  their  return,  would 

surely  be  wonderfully  impressive. 
*  * 

As  a  reward  for  having  asked  25,000 


A  CONTRAST  IN  WINTER  FASHIONS. 


questions,  tho  lawyers  in  tho  Titanic 
inquiry  are  to  receive  £16,000 ;  while 
Senator  SMITH,  who  must  have  asked 
double  that  number,  has  had,  as  far  as 
we  have  been  able  to  ascertain,  nothing, 
not  even  a  music-hall  engagement. 

*  * 

When  they  do  agree,  their  unanimity 
is  wonderful.  A  man,  his  wife,  four 
sons,  two  daughters,  and  parents-in-law 
have  been  arrested  in  Spain  for  uttering 
counterfeit  coin ;  and  tho  movements 
of  the  family  cat  are  being  carefully 

watched  by  the  police. 

*  * 
* 

The  recent  arson  case  in  Hampshire 
has  added  one  more  to  the  list  of  things 
which  are  not  evidence.  What  the 


bloodhound  smelt  is  now  ruled  to  be 

as  unreliable  as  "  what  the  soldier  said." 

•  * 

There  seems  to  bo  no  end  to  the 
disgui«H  which  the  early  cuckoo  can 
adopt,  doubtless  for  purposes  of  self- 
protection.  The  sample  shot  at  Saffron 
Walden  turns  out  to  bo  an  owl,  while 
the  one  heard  by  an  eminent  naturalist 
at  Harpenden  was  a  bricklayer  named 
GEORGK  KINO.  $  .., 
* 

Tho  Motor  Traffic  Committee  have 
been  testing  the  efficacy  of 
cow-catchers  on  motor-omni- 
buses. The  r6lo  of  pedestrian 
was  entrusted  to  a  dummy. 
As  it  came  out  of  the  col- 
lision minus-  both  legs,  an 
arm,  and  its  head,  we  think 
we  prefer,  if  it  is  all  the  same 
to  the  authorities,  to  go  on 
taking  the  old  chances. 

*     •'.:  .. 

The  Wave  of  Crime.  On 
top  of  all  this  Motor  Bandit 
business  comes  the  news  that 
two  men  havo  been  charged 
at  Cardiff  with  breaking  into 
a  bakery  and  stealing  a 

sponge-cake,  value  one  penny. 

*  * 
* 

Even  Mr.  EUSTACE  MILES, 
despite  a  certain  natural 
gratification,  must  have  been 
sorry  for  tho  owner  of  the 
dog  which,  suddenly  adopting 
vegetarianism  the  other  day, 
ate  five  bank-notes  out  of  its 

master's  pocket-book. 

*  * 
* 

Mr.  OLIVER,  editor  of  The 
Outlook,  in  which  paper  Mr. 
L.VWSON'S  Marconi  articles 
appeared,  declared  before  the 
Committee  that  he  thought 
them  a  most  valuable  series. 
Will  OLIVER  ask  for  more  ? 

*  * 
$ 

Hampstead  Heath  ordi- 
naries, wires  our  Stock  Ex- 
change correspondent,  suffered  a  severe 
slump  on  tho  receipt  in  the  City  of 
the  news  that  rhinoceros  beetles  had 
severely  damaged  the  Samoa  cocoanut 
plantations.  ,,.  ^ 

Tha  Daily  Mail  having  no  Dresden 
edition,  the  authorities  of  that  town 
have  been  able  to  forbid  the  production 

there  of  The  Miracle, 

*  * 
• 

A  large  hammer  was  thrown  through 

the  window  of  the  Eefonu  Club,  at 
Manchester,  a  few  nights  ago.  The 
person  responsible  escaped.  It  is  not 
often  that  one  finds  skill  at  Throwing 
the  Hammer  combined  with  the  ability 
to  sprint. 


134 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARL_          [FEBRUARY  19,  1913. 


WINTER   SPORT. 

HI. A   TYPICAL   MORNING. 

11  You  take  lunch  out  to-day — no  ?  " 
said  Josef,  the  head-waiter,  in  his  in- 
variable formula. 

Myra  and  I  were  alone  at  breakfast, 
the  first  down.  I  was  just  putting  some 
honey  on  to  my  seventh  roll,  and  was 
not  really  in  the  mood  for  light  con- 
versation with  Josef  about  lunch.  By 
the  way,  I  must  say  I  prefer  the  good 
old  English  breakfast.  With  eggs  and 
bacon  and  porridge  you  do  know  when 
you  want  to  stop ;  with  rolls  and  honey 
you  hardly  notice  what  you  are  doing, 
and  there  seems  no  reason  why  you 
should  not  go  on  for  ever.  Indeed, 
once  .  .  .  but  you  would  never  believe 
me. 

"  We  take  lunch  out  to-day,  yes,  Josef. 
Lunch  for — let  me  see '' 

"  Six  ?  "  suggested  Myra. 

"What  are  we  all  going  to  do? 
Archie  said  something  about  skating. 
I  'm  off  that." 

"  But  whatever  we  do  we  must  lunch, 
and  it's  much  nicer  outdoors.  Six, 
Josef." 

Josef  nodded  and  retired.  I  took  my 
eighth  roll.  : 

"  Do  let 's  get  off  quickly  to-day,"  I 
said.  "  There  's  always  so  much  chat 
in  the  morning  before  we  start." 

"I've  just  got  one  swift  letter  to 
write,"  said  Myra,  as  she  got  up,  "  and 
then  I  shall  be  pawing  the  ground." 

Half-an-hour  later  I  was  in  the 
lounge,  booted,  capped,  gloved  and 
putteed — -the  complete  St.  Bernard. 
The  lounge  seemed  to  be  entirely  full 
of  hot  air  and  entirely  empty  of  any- 
body I  knew.  I  asked  for  letters ;  and, 
getting  none,  went  out  and  looked  at 
the  thermometer.  To  my  surprise  I 
discovered  that  there  were  thirty-seven 
degrees  of  frost.  A  little  alarmed  I 
tapped  the  thing  impatiently.  "  Come, 
come,"  I  said,  "  this  is  not  the  time  for 
persiflage."  However,  it  insisted  on 
remaining  at  five  degrees  below  zero. 
What  I  should  have  done  about  it  ~ 
cannot  say,  but  at  that  moment  I 
remembered  that  it  was  a  Centigrade 
thermometer  with  the  freezing  point  in 
the  wrong  place.  Slightly  disappointed 
that  there  were  only  five  degrees  of  frost 
(Centigrade)  I. returned  to  the  lounge. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last,"  said  Archie 
impatiently.  "  What  are  we  all  going 
to  do?" 

"Where's  Dahlia?"  asked  Myra 
"  Let 's  wait  till  she  comes  and  then  we 
can  all  talk  at  once." 

"  Here  she  is.  Dahlia,  for  Heaven's 
sake  come  and  tell  us  the  arrangements 
for  the  day.  Start  with  the  idea  fixed 
in  your  mind  that  Myra  and  I  have 
ordered  lunch  for  six." 


Dahlia   shepherded   us    to    a    quiet 
iorner  of  the  lounge  and  we   all  sat 
down. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Simpson,  "  are 
;hcre  any  letters  for  me?  " 

"  No ;  it 's  your  turn  to  write,"  said 
Archie. 

"But,  my  dear  chap,  there  must  be 
one,  because — 

"But  you  never  acknowledged  the 
bed-socks,"  I  pointed  out.  "  She  can't 

write    till    you I    mean,    it  was 

rather  forward  of  her  to  send  them  at 
all ;  and  if  you  haven't  even — 

"Well,"  said  Dahlia,  "what  does 
anybody  want  to  do?  " 

Thomas  was  the  first  to  answer  the 
question.  A  girl  in  red  came  in  from 
the  breakfast-room  and  sat  down  near 
us.  She  looked  up  in  our  direction  and 
met  Thomas's  eye. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Thomas  with 
a  smile,  and  he  left  us  and  moved  across 
to  her. 

"  That 's  the  girl  he  danced  with  all 
last  night,"  whispered  Myra.  "  I  can't 
think  .what 's  come  over  him.  Is  this 
our  reserved  Thomas  —  Thomas  the 
taciturn,  whom  we  know  and  love  so 
well?  I  don't  like  the  way  she  does 
her  hair." 

"  She's  a  Miss  Aylwyn,"  said  Simp- 
son in'  a  loud  voice.  "  I  had  one  dance 
with  her  myself." 

"  The  world,"  said  Archie,  "  is  full  of 
people  with  whom  Samuel  has  had  one 
dance." 

"  Well,  that  washes  Thomas  out, 
anyway.  He  '11  spend  the  day  teaching 
her  something.  What  are  the  rest  of 
us  going  to  do?  " 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.     . 

"  Oh,  Archie,"  said  Dahlia,  "  did  you 
get  those  nails  put  in  my  boots  ?  " 

I  looked  at  Myra  .  .  .  and  sighed. 

"  Sorry,  dear,"  he  said.  "  1 11  take 
them  down  now.  The  man  will  do 
them  in  twenty  minutes."  He  walked 
over  to  the  lift  at  the  same  moment 
that  Thomas  returned  to  us. 

"  I  say,"  began  Thomas  a  little  awk- 
wardly, "if  you're  arranging  what 
to  do,  don't  bother  about  me.  I  rather 
thought  of — er — taking  it  quietly  this 
morning.  I  think  I  overdid  it  a  bit 
yesterday." 

"  We  warned  you  at  the  time  about 
the  fourth  hard-boiled  egg,"  I  said. 

"  I  meant  the  ski-ing.  We  thought 
of — I  thought  of  having  lunch  in  the 
hotel,  but  of  course  you  can  have  my 
rucksack  to  carry  yours  in.  Er — I  '11 
go  and  put  it  in  for  you." 

He  disappeared  rather  sheepishly  in 
the  direction  of  the  dining-room. 

"  Now,  Samuel,"  said  Myra  gently. 

"  Now  what,  Myra  ?  " 

"  It 's  your  turn.  If  you  have  a 
headache,  tell  us  her  name." 


"  My  dear  Myra,  I  want  to  ski  to- 
day.    Where  shall  we  go  ?     Let 's  go 
to   the  old   slopes    and    practise    the 
hristiania  Turn." 

"  What  you  want  to  practise  is  the 
ordinary  Hampstead  Straight,"  I  said. 
"  A  medium  performance  of  yours 
yesterday,  Samuel." 

"  But,  my  dear  old  chap,"  he  said 
iagerly,  "  I  told  you  it  was  the  fault  of 
my  skis.  They  would  stick  to  the 
snow.  Oh,  I  say,"  he  added,  "  that 
reminds  mo.  I  must  go  and  buy  some 
wax  for  them." 

He  dashed  off.  I  looked  at  Myra  . . . 
and  sighed. 

"  The  nail-man  won't  be  long,"  said 
Archie  to  Dahlia,  on  his  return.  "  I  'm 
to  call  for  them  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  Can't  you  wear  some  other  boots, 
Dahlia,  or  your  bedroom  slippers  or 
something?  It 's  half-past  eleven.  We 
really  must  get  off  soon." 

"  But  we  haven't  settled  where  we  're 
going  yet." 

"  Then  for  'eving's  sake  let 's  do  it. 
Myra  and  I  thought  we  might  go  up 
above  the  wood  at  the  back  and  explore. 
We  can  always  ski  down.  It  might  be 
rather  exciting." 

"  Eemember,"  said  Dahlia,  "  I  'm  not 
so  expert  as  you  are." 

", Of  course,"  said  Myra,  "  we're  the 
Oberland  mixed  champions." 

"You  know,"  said  Archie,  "I  was 
talking  to  the  man  who 's  doing 
Dahlia's  boots  and  he  said  the  snow 
would  be  bad  for  ski-ing  to-day." 

"  If  he  talked  in  French,  no  doubt 
you  misunderstood  him,"  I  said,  a 
little  annoyed.  "  He  was  probably 
asking  you  to  buy  a  pair  of  skates." 

"  Talking  about  that,"  said  Archie, 

why  shouldn't  we  skate  this  morning, 
and  have  lunch  at  the  hotel,  and  then 
get  the  bob  out  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Here  you  are,"  said  Thomas, 
coming  up  with  a  heavy  rucksack. 
"  Lunch  for  six,  so  you'll  have  an  extra 
one." 

"  I  'd  forgotten  about  lunch,"  said 
Archie.  "  Look  here,  just  talk  it  over 
with  Dahlia  while  I  go  and  see  about 
my  skates.  I  don't  suppose  Josef  will 
mind  if  we  do  stay  in  to  lunch  after  all. 
What  about  Simpson  ?  " 

I  looked  at  Myra  .  .  .  and  sighed,      j 

"  What  about  him  ?  "  I  said. 

•?$•  W  -X*  -X-  •"" 

Half-an-hour  later  two  exhausted 
people — one  of  them  with  lunch  for  six 
on  his  back — began  the  ascent  to  the 
wood,  trailing  their  skis  behind  them. 

"Another  moment,"  said  Myra,  "and 
I  should  have  screamed."  A.  A.  M. 


"  Wanted,  woman  to  peel  onions  at  her  own 
home." — Wakefield  Advertiser. 
She  certainly  mustn't  do  it  at  ours. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI  —  FKBRUARY  19,  1913. 


THE    GRAND    INTERNATIONAL. 

MR.  CHURCHILL.  "WHAT  PEICE  GERMAN  NAVY?"  ADMIBAL  TIBPITZ.  "GIVE  YOU  8  TO  6." 
MR.  CHURCHILL.  "  I  WANT  2  TO  1."  ADMIRAL  TIRPITZ.  "  WELL,  I  'LL  MAKE  IT  16  TO  10." 
MR.  CHURCHILL.  » EIGHT,  I  'LL  TAKE  YOU." 


19,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


137 


Harassed  Hostess.  "Do  YOU  DAXCE,  OK  AUE  TOO  A  wxtscr?" 


MY    PLAY. 

I  HAVE  written  a  rare  little  drawing-room  piece ; 
It  will  never  be  acted ;  the  public  must  lose  it ; 
The  lords  of  our  stage  are  incredible  geo^e ; 
One  and  all  they  refuse  it. 

I  shall  not  expound  you  the  whole  of  the  plot, 

But  1  '11  just  give  a  hint  of  the  heroine's  character ; 
No  Grundys  would  over  call  her  a  bad  lot, 

No  gods  could  have  "barracked"  her. 

A  beautiful  .girl  with  an  infinite  tact,    .    •• 

She  delights  in  undoing  her  relatives'  tangles ; 
Her  cousin  Lord  D'Arcy  's  in  love  (the  First  Act) 
With  a  creature  in  spangles. 

She  saves  him.     She  saves  her  inamma  from  her 

• " friends "  ;  , 

If  she  deals  with  one  problem  she  deals  with  a  dozen ; 
And  she  gets  her  reward,  as  the  curtain  descends, 
In  the  shapo  of  her  cousin. 

Not  wholly  original  that,  you  '11  observe — 

The  girl  who  plays  Providence;  ah,  but  what  fiv'ry 
Had  ever  the  gumption,  the  grace  and  the  nerve 
Of  my  Man.Kjing  Maryl 

Other  mastarful  maidens  have  captured  your  heart 

With  the  help  of  their  toilets,  too  nice  or  toa  rowdy ; 
But  the  thing  that  sots  Mary  so  wholly  iipait 
Is  the  fact  that  she's  dowclv. 


Her  garl  is  the  garb  of  a  season  agone, 

And   her  intimates  say,  when  she  brightens  their 

troubles, 

"  Dear  girl !     What  a  terrible  gown  she  had  on  1 " 
And  their  gratitude  doubles. 

What  is  more,  when  the  grip  of  a  present-day  mime 

Is  apt,  ere  the  ending,  to  fade  or  diminish, 
My  lieroine  iwars  the  same  frock  all  the  time. 
From  the  start  to  the  finish.     . „ 

You  have  it :  I  give  you  the  skeleton  shape ; 

You  can  picture  the  rest — all  the  gallery  staring, 
The  critics  dumbfounded,  the  boxes  agape 
And  aghast  at  my  daring. 

Yet  I  write  to  our  Frohmans  and  Barkers  in  vain : 

Evermore  they  present  Sophonisba's  Vagary, 
Or  Whimsical  Susan ;  will  no  one  explain 

Why  they  send  back  my  Mary  ?         EVOE. 

Our  latest  Author. 

"  Lady  Constance  appeared  as  Judith  in  a  choreographic  drama  based 
on  a  st:iy  by  Mllo.  Judith  Ho.ofernes." — Continental  Daily  Mail. 

"Those  who  road  Defoo  in  their  youth  may  perhaps  recall  an 
illustr;itic  n  of  tlia  King  of  Brobdingnag  studying  Gulliver  curiously 
under  a  magnifying  glats." — The  Spectator. 

We  heartily  commend  the  reading  of  DEFOE  as  an  aid  to  the 
memory.  SWIFT  is  not  so  good  for  this  purpose.  Many 
people  who  read  the  latter  in  .their  -youth  have  clean 
forgotten  the  illustration  of  Robinson  Crusoe's  parrot. 


138 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  19,  1913. 


AN   INTERVIEW  WITH  OUR   FIRST-PRIZE 
"BOBLET"  WINNER. 

(From  "  The  Weekly  Wonder.") 
I  HAD  to  do  the  last  part  of  the 
journey  on  all  fours,  for  the  mountain 
was  not  only  snowy  but  stoop.  A 
Weekly  Wonder  man,  however,  out  to 
interview  the  First-Pri/o  Winner  in 
our  world-famed  "  Boblets  "  Compoti- 
tion,  is  not  easily  beaten. 

1  had  just  enough  strength  left  to 
rap  at  the  door  of  a  neat  cottage,  and 
then  my  trials  were  over. 

I  found  myself  in  a  warm,  bright, 
comfortable  parlour,  my  climbing  irons 
taken  off,  the  hundredweight  or  so  of 
snow  removed  from  my  back,  and  in 
the  presence  of  a  hale,  hearty,  hand- 
some, apparently  middle-aged  couple — 
Mr.  John  MacEumbleton,  Mountain 


crutches  are.  those  I  sea?  Not  yours, 
I  hope?" 

They  both  laughed  happily.  "  Eos, 
Sir,  they  wur  mine.  I  wur  doad  lame, 
I  wur,  afore  I  began  to  take  in  The 
Weekly  Wonder — and  now  I  call  walk 
as  well  as  any  1  " 

"  You  delight  mo.  Whose  ear-trumpet 
is  that  yonder?  Neither  of  you  is 
deaf." 

Again  they  laughed  joyously.  "  'Twur 
the  old  ooman's,  Sir.  She  wur  deafer 
nor  a  postess — afore  we  began  to  take 
in  The  Weekly  Wonder — and  now  there 's 
nowt  she  can't  hear." 

"  Enchanted  1  And  now,  once  more 
to  ask  you  for  the  history  of  your  ex- 
traordinary Winning  '  Boblet '  in  our 
universally  talked-of  Competition." 

"  Wull,  Sir,  I  been  trying  to  make 
'em  this  long  time.  I  always  takes  out 


"  We  be  thinking  of  a  trip  to  Lunnon, 
Sir.  We  never  seen  it." 

"  Ah,  that  will  be  a  treat  for  you ! 
What  do  you  most  wish  to  see  there  ? 
St.  Paul's  ?  The  Abbey  ?  The  Monu- 
ment ?  The  Houses  of  Parliament  ? 
Come  now,  Mr.  MacEumbleton,  which 
of  all  our  '  sights '  are  you  most  anxious 
to  see? " 

"  None  o'  them  you  'vo  named,  Sir. 
0"  coorse  I  want  to  see  they  places — 
but  there  be  a  place  I  want  to  soe  more 
— the  fine  building  where  The  Weekly 
Wonder  be  printed  and  published  1 " 


PEISMATIC   MEALS. 

FIRED  by  the  enterprise  of  the  All  Eed 
Route  enthusiasts,  who  have  been  bat- 
tening on  All  Red  breakfasts,  the  Blue 
Water  School  of  National  Defence  have 


THE    EXPRESS    PANEL    DOCTOR. 


INSPECTING  TONGUES. 


SEBVINO  OUT  PILLS. 


Shepherd  and  Winner  of  a  First  Prize 
in  our  world  -  renowned  "  Boblets  " 
Competition,  and  his  comely  happy- 
looking  wife. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  MacEumbleton,"  said 
I,  when  I  had  announced  my  mission, 
"  how  came  you  to  think  of  this  won- 
derful Winning  'Boblet'  of  yours?" 

"  Wull,  Sir,  I  dunno,"  answered  this 
splendid  specimen  of  a  Mountain  Shep- 
herd and  "  Boblet "  Winner.  "  You  see, 
I  been  a  shepherd  these  seventy  year." 

I  gave  a  loud  shriek  and  had  to  take 
a  nip  of  brandy  from  my  flask. 

"  A  shepherd  seventy  years,  Mr.  Mac- 
Eumbleton ?  "  I  shouted.  "  You  look 
about  forty-five ! " 

"  Ees,  Sir,  we  bears  our  years  well, 
but  we  be  eighty  and  ninety— and  we 
looked  it — we  looked  more — wo  looked 
ninety  and  a  hunderd — afore  we  began 
to  take  in  The  Weekly  Wonder !  " 

"  I  'm  charmed  to  hear  it.  But  about 
this  marvellous  Winning  '  Boblet,'  Mr. 
MacEumbleton?  By-the-way,  whose 


The  Weekly  Wonder  on  the  mountain 
and  reads  it  to  the  sheep,  an'  it  be  wun- 
nerful  how  much  smarter  and  easier- 
managed  they  critters  ha'  grown  since 
I  been  reading  The  Weekly  Wonder  out 
loud  to  'em !  And  so  one  day,  among 
the  Examples  to  make  '  Boblets '  to,  I 
see  '  A  Penny  will  Buy — '  and  thinks  I, 
What  can  I  make  that'll  rhyme  wi' 
that  and  suit  wi'  it  ?  And  all  in  a  flash 
it  come  to  me — 

A  Penny  will  Buy 
Weekly  Wonder  and  Joy  ! 

And  so  we  sent  it  off,  and  when  the 
good  news  come — and  the  cheque — iny 
old  ooman  and  me  we  kep'  on  tumbling 
down  senseless  half  the  day,  and  then 
we  took  hands,  and  we  run  down  the 
mountain,  falling  down  turrible  often 
— an'  we  got  the  money  'an  put  it  in 
a  bank — an'  we  be  rich  an'  happy !  " 

"  And  what  are  your  plans,  Mr.  Mac- 
Eumbleton, now  that  you  've  won  this 
magnificent  Prize  in  our  epoch-making 
Competition?" 


arranged  an  All  Blue  dinner  menu  with 
the  idea  of  diverting  attention  to  their 
creed.  The  constituents  are  not  too 
plentiful,  but  something  of  a  meal  can 
be  made  of 

Blue  Point  Oysters  with  Reckitt's  sauce ; 

Blue  Entrecoto  with  Delphinium  tips ; 

Blue  Jay  en  casserole ; 

Blue  Beans ; 

Blue  Peter  Pancakes. 

The  table-cloth  to  be  made  of  old  covers 
of  The  Great  Adult  lievieiv,  and  the  Blue 
Hungarian  Band  to  be  in  attendance. 

Believers  in  the  Yellow  Peril  who 
wish  everyone  else  to  realise  the  im- 
portance of  that  menace  are  proposing 
to  bring  it  home  by  means  of  All 
Yellow  Suppers,  the  ingredients  of 
which  are : — 

Yolks  of  Eggs  with  Piccalilli ; 
Filleted  Gold  Pish ; 
Golden  Plovers  with  Buttercup  Salad ; 
Ye  old  Yellow-hammer  Pudding ; 
Custard  and  Mustard. 

The  whole   to  bo  washed  down  with 

Canary. 


FEBRUARY  10.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  139 


The  Lady  with  the  Newspaper  (much  moved  by  patriotic  leader).  "  I  FEEL,  JAMI-.S,  THAT  /  MUST  DO  BOiiETHOta.     SHALL  I  TAKE 

UP  NcnslNO   OB   LEARN   RIFLE-SHOOTING?" 

James  (faintly).  " MIGHT  I  SUGGEST  EIFLE-SHOOTING,  DEAD,  AS  LIKELY  TO  CAUSE  THE  LESS  DAMAGE?" 


MINISTERIAL   MINSTRELS. 

[Mr.  EMLYH  DA  VIES,  a  noted  Welsh  baritone 
vocalist,  has  assured  The  Daily  Sketch  that 
Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  is  not  only  musical  but 
can  sing  well. 

"  '  I  can  speak,"  said  Mr.  DA  VIES,  '  with 
some  knowledge  of  the  matter,  bociuiso  for 
ten  years  1  occupied  tho  seat  immediately 
behind  tho  Chancellor  at  Castle  Street  Welsh 
Baptist  Chapel,  off  Begont  Street,  London, 
where  he  is  a  deacon. 

"  '  I  can  assure  you  he  has  a  tenor  voice  fir 
abavo  tho  average,  and  it  is  of  considerable 
strength  and  purity.  I  remember  him  on  one 
occasion  turning  to  mo  and  saying,  "  Emlyn, 
sing  tho  tenor  part  until  I  get  the  hang  of  it," 
and  ha  soon  got  it.' 

"Tho  Chancellor  is  reported  to  have  also 
told  Mr.  Davies  that  his  favourite  song  was 
'  Captain  Morgan's  March,'  the  warlike  refrain 
of  which  ho  is  often  heard  humming."] 

THINK  not,  0  you  Tories   harsh   and 

odious, 

That  our  DAVID,  beautiful  and  gay, 
Is  the  only  Minister  melodious 

Who  can  competently  sing  or  play ; 
ASQUITH  from  the  charming  concertina 
Coaxes   most    enchanting   lilts    and 

swells, 
CHUUCIULI,    blows  his   tromla,   tha 

manna, 
CUEWE  GABUSO  easily  exceh. 

LULU,  when  he 's  off  Colonial  duty, 
On  tho  balalaika  gaily  thrums, 


Warbling  in  a  basso  rich  and  fruity 
As    tho    richest,    fruitiest    Carlsbad 

plums 

(I  have  never  seen  this  lordly  thrummer, 
I  have  never  heard  his  chest  notes 

ring, 

But  I  have  it  from  a  Carlsbad  plummcr 
Who  has  heard  and  seen  him  play  and 
eing). 

GREY  is  weak  in  his  coloratura, 

Never  cares  to  decorate  his  themes ; 
MORLEY  now  has  lost  his  old  bravura, 

BEAUCHAMP  is  an  operatic  Jeamcs ; 
BIRRELL  on  his  wheozy  Birrell-organ 

Grinds  away,  facetiously  serene, 
Whether   'tis   tho   March    of   Captain 
Morgan 

Or  the  tuno  of  "Wigs  on  College 
Green." 

MASTERMAN  is  not  a  LEONAISD  BOBWICE, 

Still  he  lias  a  soft  persuasive  touch, 
And  his  solos,  mildly  paregoric, 
Soothe  the  suffering  millions  very 

much ; 
RrjNCiiiAN  is  terribly  fastidious, 

Only  cares  for  songs  with  high-class 

pomes, 
And  declares  there's  nothing  half  so 

hideous 

As  tho  hackneyed  ballad,  "  HOLMES, 
sweet  HOLMES." 


ABERDEEN  's  addicted  to  the  pice'lo, 

And  with  his  intoxicating  toot 
Decimates  tho  denizens  of  Wicklow, 

Hushes  Tara's  Harp  until  it 's  mute ; 
SAMUEL,  who  drew  from  out  the  zither, 

As  an  infant  prodigy,  delight, 
Now  regards  the  merry  post-horn  fitter 

His  desponding  colleagues  to  incite. 

BURNS  is  quite  our  highest  vocal  flier, 

Quito  tire  prima  donna  of  the  troupe ; 
HOBHOUSE  is  a  conscientious  trier, 

PEASE,  of  course,  is  often  in  tho  soup ; 
There 's  a  note  of  pathos  in  MC.KENNA, 

Who  is  always  striving  to  be  sweet, 
But  a  taste  of  something  tart,  like  senna, 

Manages  his  efforts  to  defeat. 

SYDNEY  BUXTON  draws  melodious 
thunder 

From  the  vitals  of  the  deep  bassoon ; 
HALDANE  wakens  audiences  to  wonder 

By  liis  coruscations  as  a  coon ; 
Yes,  no  matter  what  the  devastation 

Wrought  by  ASQUITH  and  his  deadly 

brood, 
Never  was  there  an  Administration 

liiclicr  in  harmonious  aptitude. 


The  Week's  Epigrams. 
"  Now,  as  to  tho  vexed  question  of  dying, 
which  is  one  that  every  woman  hag  to  consider 
if  she  lives  long  enough." — Sunday  Times. 


140 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBBUARY  19.  1913. 


MR.  PORKER  v.  MR.  MARDON. 

WONDERFUL  things,  miraculous 
things,  are  seen  to-day  at  billiard 
matches.  STEVENSON,  with  bonzoline 
halls,  makes  1016  at  a  break,  of  which 
these  eyes  saw  the  last  350;  REECE 
with  the  ivories  makes  over  700  and 
yet  is  beaten  by  the  youthful  NEWMAN  ; 
GKORGE  GRAY  gees  in  off  the  red,  hour 
after  hour;  INMAN  imperturbably  scores 
off  impossible  double  baulks;  and  yet  no 
book  is  written  about  it.  Guides  to  the 
game — heart-breaking  counsels  of  per- 
fection— come  out  in  some  profusion,  but 
no  history  of  a  match  of  500  up  is  ever 
written  now,  as  was  done  some  sixty- 
six  years  ago,  in  the  handsome  quarto 
that  lies  before  me,  price  ten  shillings, 
with  the  position  of  the  balls  for  the  last 
nine  breaks,  and  also  thirty-two  other 
diagrams,  the  red  being  uniformly 
coloured  by  hand.  Books  like  this  are 
published  no  longer,  more  'a  the  pity. 

The  contestants  were  Mr.  PORKER 
and  Mr.  MARDON,  and  the  game  began  in 
Mr.  KENTFIELD'S  Subscription  Eooms, 
at  Brighton,  at  half-past  twelve  in  the 
afternoon  of  January  18th,  1844.  A 
few  survivors  among  the  audience  might 
still  be ;  but  it  is  hardly  likely. 

"  Not  a  bet,"  says  the  report,  "  was 
offered  whilst  the  player  was  in  the  act 
of  striking ;  "which  seems  to  be  a  wise 
precaution  and  certainly  should  not  be 
resented  by  the  players  themselves. 
"  For  such  an  arrangement  much  praise 
is  due  to  Mr.  KENTFIELD."  The  tables, 
of  course,  had  list  cushions. 

Which  of  the  players  broke  is  not 
stated,  but  after  the  first  few  strokes 
Mr.  MAHDON  was  40  to  6.  Mr.  POHKEK 
then  passed  him — 53  to  51 — but  Mr. 
MABDON  having  all  the  luck  3  to  1  was 
laid  on  him.  When  the  game  was  300 
the  light  became  obscure  and  it  was 
proposed  to  have  the  lamps.  Mr. 
MARDON  did  not,  however,  pause, 
leaving  Mr.  POBKER  "  the  appearance 
of  a  great  break."  How  well  we  know 
those  appearances  and  how  deceitful 
they  can  be !  Mr.  PORKER'S  ball  being 
close  to  the  lower  cushion,  there  was 
some  risk,  and  he  prudently  awaited 
the  lighting  of  the  lamps.  No  sooner 
were  they  burning  brightly  than  he 
accomplished  the  stroke,  which  was 
"  pronounced  by  Mr.  KENTFIELD  to  be 
as  fine  a  stroke  under  such  circum- 
stances as  ever  was  played."  Mr. 
PORKER  from  this  point  never  looked 
back  until  his  score  was  495,  or  5  from 
victory,  to  Mr.  MABDON'S  475.  Four 
to  one  was  then  offered  on  Mr.  PORKEB. 
But  Mr.  MARDON 's  special  line  of 
country  seems  to  have  been  unruffled 
precision,  and  he  gradually,  in  nine 
strokes,  reached  the  finish  amid  a  scene 
of  terrific  excitement. 


Such  was  the  satisfaction  of  one  of 
the  players — I  need  hardly  say  it  was 
not  Mr.  PORKER — that  he  wrote  a  book 
about  the  match,  and  also  to  illustrate 
his  contention  that  "  fine  and  first-rate 
hazard  striking,"  such  as  no  doubt  dis- 
tinguished the  play  of  Mr.  POBKER, 
cannot  in  the  long  run  bear  up  against 
caution,  coolness,  and  good  strength," 
or  Mr.  MARDON 's  particular  game  ;  and 
tliis  is  the  handsome  volume  that  lies 
before  me. 

Much  of  it,  I  may  add,  is  as  sound 
to-day  as  it  was  then ;  but  there  is 
a  curious  onslaught  on  indiarubber 
cushions,  -which  would  amuse  anti- 
quaries. A  table  fitted  with  these  new 
absurdities  was  placed  in  a  club  as  an 
experiment;  but  so  many  baulks  re- 
sulted "  that  the  frequenters  of  the 
room  had  the  good  sense  to  discard 
such  cushions  immediately,"  being 
fortified  in  their  decision  by  a  well- 
known  maker,  who  said  oracularly  that 
both  truth  and  speed  could  never  be 
obtained  on  the  same  table.  Has  it 
been  thus  with  every  new  invention? 
I  suppose  so. 

Among  the  general  hints  at  the  end, 
which  no  doubt  were  novel  enough  in 
those  simple,  distant  (and  happy)  days, 
when  the  great  Mr.  KENTFIELD  once 
"  actually  completed  as  many  as  two- 
and-thirty  cannons  in  succession,"  but 
are  now  everyone's  property,  is  a 
quatrain  written  by  Mr.  HUGHES,  who 
kept  a  billiard-saloon  in  London  for 
the  benefit  of  his  patrons.  It  is  good 
sense,  whatever  Sir  ARTHUR  QUILLER- 
COUCH  ("  CUE  ")  may  think  of  it  as 
poetry.  It  hobbles  thus : — 
1 '  William  Hughes  hopes  you  '11  him  excuse 
For  making  this  observation : 

When  you  've  the  best  of  the  game,  keep 

the  same ; 

To  mention  more  there  can  bo  no  oc- 
casion." 

As  to  Mr.  KENTFIELD,  of  whom  every- 
one speaks  as  being  a  man  of  fine 
strength  of  character,  I  wish  I  knew 
more  of  him.  He  seems  to  have  been 
the  second  champion,  a  marker  named 
CABB  being  the  first.  GARB  challenged 
the  world  for  100  guineas,  and  KENT- 
FIELD  accepted ;  but  the  match  went 
by  default,  as  CABB  was  taken  ill. 
KENTFIELD,  who  was  not  only  a  fine 
player  but  an  instructor  of  singular 
patience  and  lucidity,  may  be  called 
the  Father  of  the  Game.  In  1849 
JOHN  EOBEBTS  the  elder  went  to 
Brighton  to  challenge  KENTFIELD; 
KENTFIELD  declined,  and  EOBEBTS 
remained  champion  for  many  years. 
Beyond  these  public  facts  I  know  only 
that  KENTFIELD'S  name  was  EDWIN  ; 
that  he  was  always  called  "  Jonathan  " ; 
and  that  when  the  evening  of  life  drew 
on  he  retired  and  took  passionately  to 
gardening. 


ON    WAKING. 
PAINTED  gaily  on  the  cup, 

When  1  drink  my  early  tea 
And  consider  getting  up 

As  a  thing  about  to  be, 
There  's  a  pink  and  podgy  bird 

For  a  minute's  vague  employment, 
Fairy,  fat  and  most  absurd 

To  my  half -awake  enjoyment ! 

For  'twas  only  but  just  now 

That  I  wandered  where  he  stood 
Very  haughty  on  a  bough 

In  a  green  and  silent  wood, 
Mid  the  burnished  colibris, 

Each  a  buzzing  blue  scintilla, 
Where  the  wind  comes  through  the 
trees 

Faintly  flavoured  with  vanilla  I 

That 's  the  sugared  land  of  spice 

Where  one's  luck  is  always  in, 
And  the  girls  are  always  nice 

And  the  favourites  always  win  ; 
Where  a  dun  is  never  seen 

And  there  's  always  pots  of  money, 
And  the  grass  is  always  green 

And  the  skies  for  ever  sunny  ! 

Bird  of  plump  and  pleasing  wing 

And  of  curved  and  curious  make, 
You  're  a  very  friendly  thing 

When  I  'm  cross  and  half-awake, 
And  the  grey  comes  through  the 
blind— 

For  you  link  the  unideal 
With  the  dreams  I  've  left  behind, 

With  the  rainbow  and  unreal ! 


'THE    ROAD    TO    RUIN." 

To  the  Editor  of  "  Punch." 
DEAR  SIB, — We  noticed  recently  in 
your  columns  an  article  suggesting  that 
House  Agents  should  be  more  frank  and 
honest  in  their  descriptions  of  properties 
to  let,  and  we  think  it  may  interest  the 
writer  of  the  article  mentioned  to  know 
that  we,  at  any  rate,  adopted,  six  months 
ago,  such  methods  as  he  or  she  sug- 
gested, and  have  not  departed  from  them 
since. 

We  beg  to  submit  specimens  of  the 
particulars  of  three  properties,  supplied 
to  our  clients  recently,  and  a  personal 
inspection  will  prove  that  the  premises 
do  not  belie  the  advertisements  : — • 

EOTLAND  (Borders  of). — Old  moated 
grange,  surrounded  by  50  acres  of  park- 
land. Bone  -  manure  factory  within 
150  yards  of  rear  of  mansion,  but  odour 
scarcely  noticeable,  excepting  when 
wind  is  easterly.  Plenty  of  hunting 
with  three  packs  (country  well  wired). 
Fishing,  chiefly  minnows,  in  the  moat. 
The  mansion  contains  6  entertaining 
rooms  and  15  bedrooms,  nearly  all  oak- 
panelled.  The  best  bedroom  is  said  to 
be  haunted,  but  this  is  probably  due  to 


FEBRUARY  19,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


141 


Constituent  (referring  to  Af.P.  spealcing  in  marJcet-place).  "IT'S  THE  LIKES  OP  HUB  THAT  'AS  TO  PAY  HIM  £400  A  TEAB. 

MAKES  ME  THAT  WILD  TO  THINK  AS  WE  COULD    *AVE  TWO  FIRST-CLASS    'ABF-BACK8   FOB  THE   SAME   MONEY." 


IT 


noise  made  by  rats  (with  which  the 
house  is  infested)  in  the  wainscoting. 
Billiard-room  in  what  was  once  the 
chapel.  Part  of  the  roof  has  fallen  in, 
but  landlord  would  bear  portion  of  cost 
of  repair  with  good  tenant.  Stables 
at  present  in  ruins.  House  supplied 
with  water  from  well  in  courtyard. 
No  drains  to  get  out  of  order.  Last 
tenant  relinquished  through  death 
from  diphtheria  four  years  ago.  Keys 
at  Bone-manure  factory. 

No.  16,  CRAMP  COURT,  CHELSEA. — 
Dining-room  11'  x  10';  drawing-room 
9J'  x  11^',  4  bedrooms,  kitchen,  larder, 
3'  x  3',  Venetian  blinds  throughout,  a 
few  in  working  order.  Drawing-room 
windows  overlook  a  Tom  Tiddler's 
ground,  which  may  be  used  for  storing 
disused  kitchen  utensils  and  tomato 
tins.  Flat  newly  decorated  to  suit 
tastes  of  landlord,  a  retired  publican. 
No  cupboards,  by  request.  Undesirable 
tenants  in  Nos.  14, 15, 17  and  18.  Only 
5  flats  on  each  staircase.  Apply  Porter, 
when  on  premises,  at  No.  IA;  when 
not  on  premises,  at  "The  Woolpack," 
adjoining. 

DAMPSHIRE. — Outskirts  of  decaying 
village.  On  heavy  clay  soil,  jerry-built 


villa,  in  worst  possible  style  of  archi- 
tecture, standing  on  a  quagmire  -|  of  a 
rood  in  extent.  Muddy  approach  to 
front  door,  partially  gravelled,  between 
two  small  grass-plots  and  beds  intended 
for  flowers.  Two  sitting-rooms,  3  bed- 
rooms, bathroom,  h.  and  c.  taps  (water 
not  laid  on),  and  so-called  offices. 
Two  lean-to  sheds  in  garden.  Church 
3  miles,  station  4  J  miles.  Eent  moderate, 
but  high  for  house  and  locality.  Pack 
of  harriers,  shortly  to  be  given  up, 
meets  within  7  miles  about  once  a  fort- 
night. Golf  links  (private),  2J  miles. 
Permission  to  play  occasionally  may  be 
obtained  from  the  owner  by  a  C.  of  E. 
tenant  with  sound  Tariff  Eeform  princi- 
ples. Would  be  gladly  sold. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  add  that  this 
last-mentioned  property  was  let  last 
week  by  our  more  literary  confreres, 
Messrs.  Sharp,  Wiley  &  Co.,  a  copy  of 
whose  advertisement  we  beg  to  append 
for  your  perusal. 

Yours  faithfully, 

THEWER  AND  TREWEB. 
[COPY.] 

SOUTHERN  COUNTIES. — On  border  of 
pretty  old-world  village,  a  beautiful, 
well-built  and  conveniently-planned 


modern  residence,  standing  in  own 
grounds  and  approached  by  carriage- 
drive  bordered  with  lawns  and  flower- 
beds. Two  noble  reception  rooms, 
ample  bedroom  and  bath-room  accom- 
modation, excellent  offices.  Stable  and 
garage.  Well-matured  garden.  Church 
and  station  within  easy  reach.  Hunt- 
ing, golf,  good  society.  Eent  £45. 
Landlord  might  be  induced  to  sell  to 
desirable  applicant  wishing  and  able 
to  invest  in  really  first-class  property. 


From  a  Cinema  advertisement : 
"WHOSE  WIFE  IS  THIS? 
LENGTH  ABOUT  516  FEET." 
Not  ours. 


Commercial  Candour  from  Glasgow. 

"ANNUAL  SALE. 
PRICE  AND  QUALITY  oo  TOOETHEB. 

PRICES   REDUCED  TO  A   SHADOW." 


The  New  Abracadabra. 

1 '  Miss  Iboly ka  Gy  arfas  made  a  great  impres- 
sion .  .  .  Hers  should  be  a  name  to  conjure 
with  in  tho  next  decade." — Sunday  Times. 

Conjurer. ' '  Ibolykagyarfas !  And  now, 
Sir,  if  you  will  feel  in  your  left-hand 
waistcoat  pocket  you  will  find  the 
rabbit." 


112 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [FEBRUARY  19.  1913. 


Yokel.  "  'EBE,  D'von  KNOW  THAT  THERE  BATIREB  COST  I  VIFTEEN  BHIIXUN? 


Capt 


I.M    MEMORIAM 

am  Jlrott,  H.JL 


AND    HIS    GALLANT    COMRADES     •.,  •• 
WHO   BEACHED   THE    SOUTH    POLE    IN    JANUARY  1912 
AND   DIED   ON   THEIR    HOMEWARD   WAY. 

NOT  (or  the  fame  that  crowns  a  gallant  deed 

They  fixed  their  fearless  eyes  on  that  tar  goal, 
Steadfast  of  purpose,  resolute  at  need 
To  give  their  lives  for  toll. 

But  in  the  service  of  their  kind  they  fared, 

To  probe  the  secrets  which  the  jealous  Earth 
Yields  only  as  the  prize  of  perils  dared, 
The  wage  of  proven  worth. 

So  on  their  record,  writ  for  all  to  know — 

The  task  achieved,  the  homeward  way  half  won — 
Though  cold  they  lie  beneath  their  pall  of  snow, 
Shines  the  eternal  sun. 

O  hearts  of  metal  pure  as  finest  gold  I 

O  great  ensample,  where  our  sons  may  trace, 
Too  proud  for  tears,  their  birthright  from  of  old, 
Heirs  of  the  Island  Eaco  1 

O.  S. 


ANOTHER  PATHETIC  FALLACY. 

You  have  read  in  novels  how  a  great  emotion  will 
transform  a  man's  countenance;  how  a  poet's  face  in  the 
hour  of  inspiration  sets  the  sparrows  singing  on  the  house- 
tops ;  how  that  of  a  man  suddenly  ruined  causes  phlogmatit 
horses  to  stagger.  My  own  features  are  of  the  common- 
place type,  which  nobody  ordinarily  thinks  of  regarding 
twice,  but  nevertheless  I  too  have  had  my  experiences. 

They  occurred  on  the  morning  when  I  received  a  letter 
from  Phyllis,  which  said  briefly,  "Yes,  I  think  so."  Not 
much  in  that,  you  may  say,  but  when  I  tell  you  it  was  the 
delayed  answer  to  a  proposal  of  marriage  you  will  under- 
stand. Shortly  after  reading  it  I  stopped  out  into  the  street 
to  walk-  to  the  office. 

What  a  walk  that  was !  The  light  in  my  eyes  seemed 
to  brighten  the  very  sun ;  the  song  in  my  heart  was  echoed 
from,  a  hundred  motor-buses.  Never  have  the  winds  of 
May  wooed  so  winningly  a  February  morning. 

Not  a  man  I  mot  but  turned  his  head  as  if  loth  to  take 
his  eyes  from  my  irradiated  countenance.  Every -girl  seemed 
to  take  the  keenest  pleasure  in  my  happiness,  smiling  prettily 
as  if  infected  by  its  contagion.  "lis  well,  I  thought  (in  blank 
verse)  that  Phyllis  now  is  pledged  to  me,  or,  by  my  troth, 
these  flattering  glances  shot  from  beauty's  eyes  might  make 
my  heart  unfaithful. 

******* 
It  was  only  when  I  reached  the  office  and  looked  in  the 
glass  that  I  discovered  the  large  black  smudge  on  the  end 
of  my  nose. 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— FEBRUARY  19,   1913. 


IN    HONOUR    OF    BRAVE    MEN    DEAD. 


FEBRUARY  19,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CIIATIIVARI. 


145 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  TUB  DIARY  OP  TOBY,  M.P.) 


A  PUEELY  FANCIFUL  PICTUEE  OF  THE  MAEOONI  ENQUIEY. 

Showing  how  the  infantile  innocence  of  Mr.  WEDGWOOD  BENN,  had  he  conceivably  been  the  object  of  Mr.  FALCONER'S  cross- 
examination,  would  have  foiled  that  legal  luminary. 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  February 
10. — Appearance  of  House  when  Ques- 
tions called  on  suggested  final  collapse. 
Doubtful  whether,  had  count  been 
moved,  a  quorum  would  have  been 
found.  Front  Opposition  Bench  tenant- 
less.  BONNER  LAW,  whose  thirst  for 
information  is  unrelieved  by  callous 
PREMIER,  temporarily  abandons  pursuit 
of  knowledge.  Example  loyally  fol- 
lowed by  his  colleagues.  Only  three 
Ministers  on  Treasury  Bench. 

Happily  among  them  is  WEDGWOOD 
BENN,  who,  though  not  officially  at- 
tached, answers  for  Board  of  Works  in 
this  Chamber.  Not  for  the  first  time, 
never  before  with  equal  force,  is  brought 
home  to  mind  of  Members  looking  on 
what  a  precious  asset  he  is  to  a  Govern- 
ment occasionally  in  need  of  extraneous 
help.  Something  about  his  guileless 
countenance,  his  seraphic  smile,  recalls 
famous  group  of  cherubs  hovering  over 
the  canvas  of  a  great  master.  By 
chance  he  had  no  Ministerial  con- 
nection with  the  MARCONI  contract. 
Had  it  been  otherwise  it  would  have 


been  impossible  for  the  most  reckless 
imagination,  the  most  loosely  strung 
mind  to  suspect  him  of  dabbling  in 
stock  with  a  view  to  making  a  profit  of 
£200,000  more  or  less. 

As  things  stand  he  has  a  curious 
fascination  for  FALCONER,  whose  piti- 
less, persistent  cross-examination  of  a 
witness  in  course  of  the  inquiry  finds 
nearest  parallel  in  the  supreme  achieve- 
ment of  Sir  CHARLES  EUSSELL  before 
he  deserted  the  Bar  for  the  Bench. 
Had  WEDGWOOD  BENN  chanced  in  any 
conceivable  circumstances  to  be  his 
victim  in  the  witness-chair,  response 
to  his  most  soul-searing  inquiry  would 
have  been  a  smile  of  almost  infantile 
innocence,  in  its  way  as  impregnable  as 
a  Dreadnought. 

Occasionally,  when  he  makes  shrewd 
answer  to  inquiries  concerning  the  de- 
partment he  represents,  House  begins 
to  suspect  he  is  not  quite  so  ingenuous 
as  he  looks.  That,  however,  a  passing 
impression.  There  permanently  re- 
mains the  subtle,  indescribable,  but 
clearly  felt  conviction  that  a  Ministry 


among  whom  WEDGWOOD  BENN  is 
numbered  cannot  be  as  iniquitous,  as 
hopelessly  bad,  as  Mr.  HUNT  and  SILVER 
MARKET  GWYNNE  regretfully  assume. 

Danger  of  thinking  aloud  in  a  mixed 
assembly  illustrated  this  afternoon. 
CHARLIE  BERESFORD,  who  continues  to 
keep  his  weather  eye  upon  the  WIN- 
SOME WINSTON,  inquired  whether,  in 
pursuance  of  engineering  work  atEosyth 
the  contractor  had  come  upon  a  bank 
of  mud  not  marked  on  any  chart  ? 
WINSTON,  who  knows  most  things,  fain 
to  admit  this  beyond  him. 

"  I  cannot  answer  that  question 
without  notice,"  he  almost  humbly 
said. 

Question  and  answer  struck  a  chord 
in  breast  of  KINLOCH-COOKE. 

"  Cannot  answer  it  ?  "  ho  cried.  "  I 
thought  you  were  a  slinger  of  mud." 

Hadn't  slightest  intention  or  ex- 
pectation of  being  overheard.  Just 
an  idea  that  struck  him,  not  without 
tinge  of  disappointment  that  one  so 
much  esteemed  by  him  as  is  FIRST  LORD 
OP  THE  ADMIRALTY  had  at  a  particular 


11G 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBBUABY  19,  1913. 


crisis  fallen  short  of  high  standard  at 
•which  ho  is  habitually  measured  by 
a  perhaps  too-prejudiced  friend.  Un- 
fortunately, in  temporary  absence  of 
mind,  KiN'Locn-CooKE,  instead  of  mur- 
muring the  remark  below  his  breath, 
spoke  it  aloud  with  startling  effect. 
Indignant  cries  of  "WiUulrawl"  rose 
fn.m  Ministerial  ranks.  The  SPEAKER 
interposing  administered  personal  ro- 
buko  perhaps  unexampled  in  severity. 

Awkward  incident.  However,  as 
tilings  turned  out,  better  offer  an 
apology.  This  be  hastened  to  do,  and 
in  the  quaint  manner  peculiar  to  House 
in  analogous  circumstances  was  as 
loudly  cheered  as  if  ho  had  performed 
meritorious  action. 

Uusiness  done. — In  Committee  on 
Supplementary  Estimates. 

House  "5  Lords,  Tuesday.  —  Second 
field  night  of  session.  Debate  opened 
on  motion  to  read  a  second  time  Welsh 
Church  Disestablishment  Bill.  By 
comparison  with  scene  at  similar  stage 
of  Homo  Eule  Bill  great  falling  off  in 
interest.  Few  peeresses  graced  side 
galleries  with  their  presence.  Ked- 
cushioned  benches  on  floor  only  half 
filled.  Marked  exception  in  caso  of 
benches  below  Gangway  to  right  of 
Woolsack.  Here  flocked  the  surpliced 
Bishops.  Effect  undesigned;  not 
therefore  the  less,  perhaps  the  more, 
striking. 

Fog  filled  Chamber  with  depressing 
persistency.  Electric  lights  flaring 
from  roof  did  little  to  disperse  the 
gloom.  Through  it  shone  the  white 
robes  of  the  Bishops,  emblematical  of 
innocence  and  of  capacity  to  rise 
superior  to  mundane  influences. 

KKNYON,  in  moving  rejection  of  Bill, 
set  forth  in  detail  evil  consequences 
that  would  follow  upon  its  enactment. 
Approaching  climax  he,  in  voice  trem- 
bling with  emotion,  said :  "  My  Lords, 
the  disestablishment  of  tho  Church  in 
Wales  will  be  a  step  to  the  inevitable 
disestablishment  of  the  English  Church. 
In  such  case  the  business  of  your  Lord- 
ships' House  would  be  daily  commenced 
without  prayer." 

Conscience-stricken  peers  recollected 
that  attendance  at  prayer  time  rarely 
exceeds  a  devout  half-dozen.  Still 
there  it  is,  and  a  murmur  of  pained 
sympathy  approved  this  conclusive 
argument  against  the  Bill. 

Bishop  of  ST.  ASAPH  read  interesting 
paper.  When  ho  laid  his  manuscript 
on  pulpit  desk  (I  mean  on  the  Table), 
life-long  associations  connected  with  its 
appearance — quarto  sheets  neatly  sewn 
in  black  silk  cover — caused  noble  Ijords 
reverentially  to  close  their  eyes  and 
assume  a  restful  attitude.  Presently 
roused  by  energy  of  the  BISHOP,  who, 
untrammelled  by  his  manuscript,  "let 


have  it  hot,"  as  WILLOUGHBY 
DE  BROKE  admiringly  said. 

About  this  time  discovery  made  of 
curious  incident  illustrating  force  of 
early  habit.  Tho  fog  deepening,  LORD 
CHANCELLOR  seized  opportunity  of 
making  strategic  retreat.  Beckoning 
COLEBHOOKE  to  approach  Woolsack,  ho 
asked  him  to  take  his  place. 

"  Back  d'rectly,"  ho  whispered  as  he 
tiptoed  out. 

Choice  of  substitute  might  have  been 
better  made.  COLEBROOKE'S  figure  lacks 
expansiveness  of  LORD  CHANCELLOR'S. 
Moreover,  he  was,  of  course,  unprovided 
with  wig  and  gown.  Nevertheless  so 
dense  was  tho  fog  that  disappearance 
of  LORD  CHANCELLOR,  long  unnoticed, 
would  not  havo  been  discovered  save 


BEnEsror.D  keeping  his  wjatlier  eye 
on  WISSTON. 

for  tho  reflected  light  from  the  Bishops' 
lawn  falling  upon  the  Woolsack.  To 
general  surprise tttlisclosedCoLEBBOOKE 
sitting  bolt  upright,  looking  increasingly 
miserable  as  LORD  CHANCELLOR  tarried 
on  his  way  back. 

Business  done.  —  Lord  BEAUCHAMP 
moved  second  reading  Welsh  Church 
Disestablishment  Bill.  Lord  RENYON 
moved  its  rejection. 

Friday. — Yesterday  Lords  threw  out 
Welsh  Church  Bill  by  252  votes  against 
51.  To-day  Commons  adjourn  till 
Friday,  7th  March,  when  Parliament 
will  be  prorogued,  with  interval  (includ- 
ing Sunday)  of  three  days  before  new 
Session  opens. 

The  Spread  of  Suflragism. 

Mrs.  Henry  Fftwcett.LL.D.  NatuslSiT." 

Everyman. 

We  aren't  even  to  bo  allowed  a  Latin 
render  of  our  own. 


SAFE    BIND,    SAFE    FIND. 

WE  having  occasion  to  shut  up  our 
flat  for  a  month  or  so,  my  wife  was  all 
for  taking  our  silver  round  to  a  Safe 
Deposit  in  order  to  prevent  its  being 
stolen  in  our  absence.  For  myself,  I 
was  all  for  having  it  stolen  in  our 
absence  in  order  to  save  the  trouble 
of  having  to  take  it  round  to  a  Safe 
Deposit  on  future  occasions.  In  the 
end,  she  admitted  that  I  was  right, 
as  always,  and  then  it  was  agreed  that 
I  should  havo  tho  privilege  of  taking 
the  silver,  in  a  trunk,  to  the  Safe  De- 
posit. 

1  felt,  as  I  alighted  from  my  taxi 
with  my  trunk,  worth  my  weight,  and 
more,  in  silver.  But  the  clerk  in  charge 
of  the  Deposit  Office  made  no  overt 
sigh  of  deference,  doubtless  determining 
to  keep  an  open  mind  until  he  was 
satisfied  as  to  the  contents  of  my  trunk. 
Bather  than  havo  him  suspect  me  of 
being  an  ingenious  murderer  with  an 
awkward  corpse  to  dispose  of,  I  made 
haste  to  inform  him  that  this  was  not 
the  case  and  to  explain  to  him  the 
truth  of  our  domestic  affairs. 

Clerks  in  ehaige  of  bate  Deposits 
are  eminently  human,  and  nothing 
bores  them  so  much  as  the  truth  of 
other  people's  domestic  att'airs.  So  he 
gave  me  the  Company's  booklet  of  in- 
structions to  read  and  returned  to  his 
desk,  to  write,  no  doubt,  to  tho  other 
depositories  to  tell  them  how  their 
deposits  were  getting  on  and  that  if 
there  was  a  suspicious  cove  in  the  room 
he  was  under  tho  strictest  observation. 

After  an  interval :  "  I  havo  read  your 
little  work,"  said  I,  returning  him  his 
booklet,  "  and  find  your  Subscribed 
Capital,  Directors,  Solicitors,  Auditors, 
Bankers,  Business  Hours,  Telephone 
Number  and  Telegraphic  Address  the 
most  delightful  reading.  But  there  are 
two  points  at  which  I  quibble:  the 
first,  is  it  wise  to  make,  as  you  do  in 
the  very  fore-front  of  your  preface,  this 
proposition :  '  Visitors  are  invited  to 
inspect  the  Safe  Deposit,  which  is  open 
free  from  0  A.M.  to  6  P.M.,'  and  is  it  not 
asking  for  trouble  to  put  it  in  italics  ? 
And,  secondly,  is  it  really  necessary  for 
me  to  have  a  password  ?  " 

The  man  turned  from  his  desk.  "  I 
will  take  your  last  question  first,"  said 
he,  "  for  your  first  I  do  not  intend  to 
answer.  A  password  is  necessary,  and 
I  shall  bo  glad  if  you  will  fix  on  one 
while  I  make  out  the  necessary  forms 
for  you  to  sign." 

It  is  said  of  me  by  my  friends  that 
I  am  a  man  of  many  words,  by  my 
enemies  that  I  am  a  man  of  too  many 
words.  But,  upon  my  soul,  it  took  me 
on  this  occasion  five  minutes  to  think 
of  ono.  Any  word,  the  Clerk  had  said, 


FEBBUABY  19.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


147 


would  do,  one  word  being  as  easy  to 
remember  or,  as  ho  added  when  he 
appreciated  nay  difficulty,  as  easy  to 
forget  as  another.  But  I  did  not  look 
at  the  matter  in  the  same  light.  "It 
must  be,"  said  I,  "exactly  the  right 
word,"  and  with  great  care  and  cir- 
cumspection I  evolved  it.  I  gavo  it 
him,  J  saw  him  make  a  note  of  it  for 
future  occasions,  and  then  I  proceedeil 
in  due  course  and  naturally  enough  to 
forget  it  and  all  about  it. 

***** 

On  the  re-opening  of  our  llat  a  month 
later,  I  argued  even  more  strenuously 
against  a  second  visit  by  myself  to  that 
Safe  Deposit.  I  knew  that  I  had  some 
very  strong  grounds  for  objection,  but 
could  not  remember  exactly  what.  Sure 
enough,  when  I  got  to  the  place  and 
produced  my  signed  forms  and  asked 
for  my  silver,  that  Clerk  must  needs 
have  me  give  him  a  password.  A  pass- 
word ;  why,  of  course. 

"  How  many  guesses  have  I  got  ?  "  I 
asked,  in  order  to  temporize. 

"Your  password,  Sir?"  said  the 
Clerk,  for  any  signs  of  flippancy  are  very 
properly  discouraged  in  the  purlieus  of 
a  Safe  Deposit. 

••  "I  can  give  you  the  rough  idea," 
said  I,  "  for  that  at  least  I  can  remem- 
ber. You  gave  mo  to  expect  that  this 
emergency  would  arise,  and  I  well  knew 
that  when  it  did  arise  I  should  be  un- 
equal to  it.  So  I  chose  a  word  that 
would  naturally  suggest  itself  when  1 
came  so  to  inform  you.  If  you  look  at 
your  book  it  will  no  doubt  show  you 
what  that  word  is.  ...  And  now  may 
I  have  my  silver  ?  " 

"I  must  be  told,"  said  the  Clerk, 
"  what  the  word  was." 

I  thought  and  thought,  but  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  tell  him  that 
I  had  forgotten  it. 

"Damn,"  I  began. apologetically  .  .  . 

Thereupon  the  Clerk  thanked  me 
and  gave  mo  the  silver. 


The  Bun  of  the  Season. 

"HUNTING. 

EXCELLENT  DAY'S  SPOBT  WITH  THE  BLASKNEY. 
A  BADOEB  KILLED." — Standard. 


A  Minor  Prophet. 

"Tho  Rev. ,  speaking  at  the  Athletic 

Association's  concert  last  week,  prophesied  a 
busy  and  attractive  time  at  the  Sports  Ground 
last  year." — Worthing  Observer. 
This  initial  success  should   encourage 
him  to  higher  flights. 

"Mr.  Hrry  Holmes,  of  21,  Lynette-avenue, 
Clapham  Common,  requests  us  to  state  that 
ho  is  in  no  way  connected  with  the  Harry 
olllmes  who,  on  February  11,  at  Greenwich, 

was  scut  for  trial."- — Evening  News. 

It  is  surprising,  seeing  how  differently 
they  spell  their  names,  that  the  mistake 
e  /er  arose. 


OUR   VILLAGE   CINEMA. 

Showman.  "  "EBE,  I  BAY,  IT  BB  'OBSEB'  'OOVEB,  NOT  'OBNS  OB  'AIL-BTOBMS.' 


ON  EECEIVING  AN  ADVEETISEMENT  OF  PHEASANT  EGGS. 


DEAR  SIB, — Although  I  plainly  see 

Your  card  is  kindly  meant, 
To  forward  such  a  thing  to  me 

Is  energy  mis-spent ; 
For  pheasant  eggs  or  chicks  that  run 

Or  grown-up  birds  that  fly 
Are  little  good  without  the  gun 

I  can't  afford  to  buy  1 

My  interest  it  scarcely  whets 
To  read  your  lists  of  rank, 

To  hear  of  Dukes  and  Baronets 
Whose  keepers  "  beg  to  thank ." 


No  joy  is  it  to.  me  to  know 
That  "  all  the  eggs  did  well," 

As  testified  by  So-and-So, 
Or  some  such  other  swell. 

Ah  !  why,  Sir,  advertise  your  skill 

To  one  as  poor  as  proud  ? 
Two  pheasants  would  my  garden  fill, 

And  three  would  ho  a  crowd. 
Yet,  stay !  not  vainly  shall  you  beg, 

Your  firm  shall  yet  rejoice ; 
You  shall  supply  one  breakfast  egg — 

Unfertile,  please,  for  choice  I 


118 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  19,  1913. 


GREEK    IAMBICS. 

"I  HAVF.  boon  thinking,"  I  said. 

"  And  that,"  said  Francesca,  "is  capital  cxcrciso  for  you. 
Soino  people  box,  somo  fence,  sonic  ride,  some  play  golf, 
some  walk — 

"  And  some  talk,"  I  put  in.     "  Don't  forget  the  talkers  ! 

"  I  am  not  allowed  to  forget  them.  Some  talk,  and 
others  think.  They  're  the  best  of  all,  and  you,  it  appears  " 

she  swept  me  a  curtsey — "arc  one  of  them.     Oh,  what 

would  I  give  to  be  a  thinker,  to  bo  able  to  bear  down 
opposition  by  the  force  of  reason,  to  bring  doubters  to  my 
side  by  the  pure  influence  of  a  great  mind !  Tell  me,  tell 
rne  how  does  it  feel  to  be  like  that  ?  " 

"  It  feels,"  I  said,  "  like — surely  you  know  what  I  mean 

like  having  a  reason,  like  possessing  a  great  mind,  you 

know;  like  being  a  man,  in  fact — homo  sapiens,  and  that  sort 
of  thing."  . 

"And  what  do  you  think  I  care,"  she  said,  "for  your 
Jiomosapiensfs?  " 

"  If,"  I  said,  "  you  desiro  to  indicate  the  plural  I  suggest 
that  homines  sa'pientcs  would  be  the  more  usual  form. 
Possibly  you  may  have  some  authority  in  the  Latin  of  a 
later  age — monkish  Latin,  for  instance — but " 

"  We  will  put  Latin  aside,"  she  said. 

"  No,"  I  said  warmly,  "  we  will  not  put  it  aside.  For 
twelve  long  years  I  learnt  Latin,  and  now  in  the  plenitude 
of  my  powers  I  am  to  be  told  by  a  mere  chit  of  a  girl— 

"  Age  cannot  wither  me,"  said  Francesca. 

" — I  am  to  be  told  by  a  mere  chit  of  a  girl  who  hasn't  got 
an  irregular  verb  to  her  name  that  Latin  is  to  be  put  asida. 
Tak3  my  Latin  from  me,  and  what  am  I  ?  " 

"  An  old  goose,"  said  Francesca.  "  It 's  the  most  perfect 
subtraction  sum  I  ever  met." 

"  Pretty  warbler,"  I  said.  "  If  I  could  remember  the 
Latin  for  nightingale  that  should  be  your  name." 

"  I  '11  do  without  it.  You  needn't  strain  your  memory 
just  to  give  me  pleasure." 

"  '  Philomela*  is  the  word,"  I  said. 

'•  It  is  too  late  now,"  she  said;  "and  'nightingale'  docs 
equally  well." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  are  babbling." 

"  Warbling,"  she  urged. 

"  Babbling,"  I  repeated,  "  babbling  badly.  I  shall  now 
refuse  to  tell  you  what  I  was  thinking  about." 

"And  I,"  she  said,  "shall  refuse  not  to  bear  up  under 
the  blow." 

"No,"  I  said,  "  I  will  change  my  mind — 

"  Changes  neatly  executed  while  you  wait." 

" — I  will  change  my  mind  and  tell  you  all,"  I  said.  "  Have 
you  ever  noticed  that  Frederick  is  growing,  that  he  is  more 
than  five  years  old — 

"  And  will  be  six  in  June,"  she  said.  "  Something  of  the 
sort  had  vaguely  occurred  to  me,  but  I  could  never  have 
expressed  it  with  your  precision  and  force." 

"  — And  we  shall  soon  have  to  think  seriously  about  his 
education." 

"  lie  is  already  highly  accomplished,"  she  said.  "  He  can 
road  many  words  of  three  letters." 

"  Pooh  !  "  1  said. 

"  And  can  do  simple  sums  in  addition." 

"Pish!"  I  said. 

"  Unnatural  father,  thus  to  depreciate  tlio  genius  of  your 
son.  He  is  a  born  arithmetician,  and  insists  oh  doing  sums 
in  his  bath." 

"Then,"  I  said,  "ho  shall  go  to  Cambridge." 

"  Do  they  do  sums  in  their  baths  at  Cambridge  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  and  everywhere  else,  too.  He  shall  be  a 
wrangler." 


"  151c3S  his  heart,"  said  Francosca  fondly.  "  Did  ho  want 
to  be  a  little  wrangler  then  ?  " 

"  My  heart,"  I  said,  "  is  steeled  against  your  prattle,  and 
Frederick,  being  upstairs,  cannot  hear  it." 

"This  conversation,"  she  said,  "is  becoming  too  dis- 
cursive. Besides,  I  cannot  bear  a  man  who  says  '  pooh ' 
and  'pish.'  Such  expressions  are  only  met  with  in  books." 

"Francesca,  if  you  dare  me,  I  will  say  .'ugh'  and 
'  pshaw.'  But  please  understand  me.  "When  I  said  '  pooh  ' 
and  '  pish '  just  now  I  dirt  not  intend  to  make  light  of 
Frederick's  learning.  I  meant  to  imply  that  knowledge  is 
not  necessarily  the  first  object  of  education.  Character, 
you  know — Frederick  must  acquire  character." 

" His  character,"  she  said,  "is  angelic.  He  would  give 
his  last  sponge-cake  to  his  sisters." 

"  Ho  must  play  cricket  and  football." 

"  He  can  play  them  on  the  lawn." 

"  And  he  must  learn  to  take  a  swishing  like  a  man." 

"  Do  men  take  them  much  ?  "  she  said. 

"And,  therefore,"  I  said,  disregarding  her,  "he  must  go 
to  a  good  preparatory  school  and  afterwards  to  a  public 
school.  Do  you  imagine  that  Eton,  Harrow,  Winchester, 
Rugby  and  all  the  rest  of  them  are  gaping  for  Frederick  ? 
He  must  be  put  down  at  once  for  somewhere." 

"  But  won't  they  let  him  do  his  reading  and  his  little 
sums?" 

"He  will,  I  hope,  continue  to  dabble  in  them.  But.  he 
will  learn  to  write  Latin  Elegiacs  and,  .^possibly,  Greek 
Iambics.  Think,  Franccsca,  how  proud  you  will  be  of  a 
son  who  can  write  Iambics." 

"  But  you  yourself,"  she  said,  "  once  wrote  these  awful 
things.  You  don't  do  much  at  it  now,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  exactly  make  a  habit  of  it,"  I  said  ;  "  but  it  has 
given  me  an  insight ;  it  has  helped  to  build  me  up  ;  it  has 
taught  me  how  to  avoid  false  quantities — 

"  And  that,"  she  said,  "  is,  of  course,  most  important.  I 
shall  begin  to  teach  Frederick  that  directly." 

"  I  wouldn't  hurry  him  too  much,"  I  said. 

"  Wouldn't  you  ?  Of  course  you  know  best.  I  thought 
perhaps  he  'd  like  to  take  an  Iambic  to  bed  with  him." 

R.  C.  L. 


MULLIGATAWNY. 

[' '  Mulligatawny  (Tamil — rhilagutunni,  lit.  pepper-water) .     An  East 
Indian  curry-soup." — English  Dictionary.'] 

THEHE  are  soups  of  various  patterns,  that  range  from  the 

humble  pea 

To  the  aldermanic  turtle  that 's  not  for  the  likes  o'  me, 
But  the  priceless  pick  of  the  boiling  is  made  on  the  masterly 

plan 
Of  Misther  Mulligatawny,  the  eminent  Irishman.    . 

For  what  is  the  soup  of  Scotland  (the  gourmet  shudders 

and  pales), 

Or  what  is  your  cock-a-leekie — the  probable  soup  of  Wales, 
Or  any  infusion  flavoured  by  English  corduroy 
To  the  soup  of  Mulligatawny,  the  broth  of  an  Irish  boy  ? 

But  Philology  thrust  her  nose  in,  and  hatched  a  horrible 

plot 
That  the  manhood  of  Mulligatawny  should  shamefully  be 

forgot ; 

She  implied  that  Mulligatawny  was  never  a  shamrock  fruit, 
And  wasn't  discovered  in  Erin,  but  came  from  an  Indian  root. 

Now  credit,  it 's  my  conviction,  should  go  where  credit  is  due, 
So  I  feel  constrained  to  batter  Philology's  nose  askew 
With  the  fact  that  the  Monarch  of  All  Soups  is  made  on 

the  masterly  plan 
Of  Misther  Mulligatawny,  the  eminent  Irishman. 


FEBRUARY  19,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil   THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


149 


Celebrated  English  Actor  (great  success  as  Irishman  in  Irish  play).  "  Oi  ALWAYS  THINK  AS  ACTOBB  SHOULD  SPAKE  THE  SAME  ACCENT 

OFF  TUB  STAGE   AS  ON   UT,    WHOILE  THE   PLAY   IS   RUNNING.      BEQOBBA.   IT   MAKES   HIM   HATUBAL  IN   HIS  PAEBT." 

Tour~.nj  Actor.  "  ALL  VEBY  FINE  FOB  YOU  ;    BUT  I  PLAY  A  SCOTCHMAN  AT  MATUTEES  AND  AN  IBISHIIAS  AND  A  FBEXCHMAS  m 

THE  EVENING,    AND  ME   A   WELSHMAN,    LOOK   YOU  1  " 


A  FAMILY  "AGREEMENT." 

(Drawn  tip  by  a  distracted  father  for 
the  benefit  of  all  parents  whose 
sleep  is  rendered  insecure  by  the 
behaviour  of  their  offspring.) 
THIS  INDENTURE  made  the  .  .  . 
day  of  .  .  .19...  between  Messrs.  Pater 
and  Mater  Familias  of  the  one  part 
(hereinafter  called  "the  Lessors")  and 
Master  Three-year-old  of  the  other 
part  (hereinafter  called  "  the  Lessee  ") 
VVITNESSETH  that  in  consideration 
of  the  Lessee's  covenants  hereinafter 
contained  THE  said  Lessors  do  demise 
unto  the  said  Lessee  ALL  THAT 
wooden  tenement  called  and  known  as 
"THE  COT"  situate  and  being  ad- 
jacent to  other  the  two  tenements  of  the 
Lessors  in  the  county  of  Beds  together 
with  the  appurtenances  thereto  belong- 
ing TO  HAVE  and  to  occupy  the  same 
nightly  for  a  period  of  ...  hours  from 
the  day  of  ...  19...  rent  free  AND 
the  said  Lessee  does  hereby  covenant 
with  the  said  Lessors  that  lie  shall  not 
nor  will  without  the  licence  and  con- 
sent of  the  said  Lessors  first  obtained 


convert  or  use  the  said  tenement  or 
any  part  thereof  into  a  pandemonium 
or  bear-garden  nor  blow  any  trumpet 
or  other  musical  instruments  nor  beat 
bang  or  otherwise  strike  any  drum  nor 
suffer  the  said  tenement  to  be  used  or 
occupied  by  bleating  sheep  talking 
dolls  or  other  nuisance  AND  further 
that  the  Lessee  will  not  during  the 
occupation  of  the  said  demised  premises 
cry  whine  sniff  toss  about  sing  shout 
or  do  any  act  which  may  be  or  grow  to 
the  annoyance  or  disturbance  of  the 
Lessors  or  the  occupiers  or  inmates 
of  adjoining  premises  PROVIDED 
ALWAYS  and  these  presents  are  upon 
this  express  condition  that  if  and  when- 
ever the  Lessee  shall  fail  to  observe 
and  perform  any  of  the  covenants  here- 
inbefore contained  it  shall  be  lawful  for 
the  Lessors  at  any  time  to  remove  and 
utterly  expel  the  said  Lessee  from  the 
said  demised  premises  AND  the 
Lessors  hereby  covenant  with  the 
Lessee  that  the  Lsssee  duly  performing 
all  the  covenants  on  the  Lessee's  part 
shall  quietly  enjoy  the  said  premises 
without  interference  by  the  Lessors. 


IN  WITNESS  whereof  the  said 
parties  to  these  presents  have  hereunto 
set  their  hands  and  seals  tho  day  and 
year  first  above  written 
Signed  scaled  and  delivered 
by  the  above-named 
in  the  presence  of 


Commercial  Candour  from  I/.verpool. 
(1)  "  STOCKTAKING  SALE. 


REDUCED. 
QUALITY  —  STYLE  —  VAMJK." 
(2)  "  500  Dozen  Ladies*  Irish  Linen  Hem- 
stitched Handkerchiefs,   honestly   worth   1,'G 
doz.     Sale  price  G  for  1/G." 


"  The  Rev.  C.  Conolly  presided  at  a  sacred 
musical  service  given  at  Exton  Church  on 
Sunday  afternoon.  Tho  programme  was  of 
an  interesting  and  varied  character,  and  com- 
prised items  by  Miss  CUsio  Fradd  (soprano), 
Miss  Nellio  Drew  (contralto),  Mr.  Reginald 
Fisher  (tenor),  Mr.  Chas.  1'rice  (kiss),  tho 
humorous  part  being  entrusted  to  Mr.  NY.  J. 
Ho.\d." — Hampshire  County  Times. 

The  last-named  gentleman  must  have 
found  it  good  practice  for  the  humor- 
ous part  iu  tho  anthem  that  same 
evening. 


1-50 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBBUABY  19,  1913. 


AT  THE    PLAY. 

"  THE  PRETENDERS." 
ACCORDING  to  Mr.  WILLIAM  ARCHED, 
who  translated  the  play  and  provided 
the  audience  with  an  erudite  but  very 


Eev.  Mephistopheles  in  the  person  of 
Nicholas  Arnesson,  Bishop  of  Oslo. 
His  ruling  passion,  strong  to  the  last 
of  life,  was  to  promote  discord  in  the 
Kingdom  of  Norway,  that  no  one  man 
might  rise  to  bo  the  giant  which  he 


readable  "  foreword  "  about  it,  a  "  long- 1  himself  had  failed  to  become.  His 
standing  reproach  "  has  been  lifted  from  motto  is  not  "  divide  et  impera,"  but 
the  English  stage  by  the  tardy  produc- ,  rather  "  encourage  rivalry  that  there 
tion  of  this  opus  magnum  of  UENRIK  :  may  be  no  tri  e  imperator  at  all."  Un- 
IBSEN'S  early  career.  As  a  feat  of  fortunately  the  original  passage  which 
heavy-weight  lifting  it  was  a  colossal  gave  the  key  to  this  attitude,  showing, 
performance,  and,  looking  back,  I  am  as  I  understand  from  Mr.  AECHEB,  that 
proud  to  have  assisted  at  the  achieve-  it  was  due  to  jealousy  born  of  his  own 
ment,  though  at  the  time  something  of  failure  to  win  success  in  a  world  of 
the  physical  strain  communicated  itself  I  lustier  men,  was  omitted  in  the  acting 

l-f\    rv»ir   /-VITTI-I     mffa    r\(     an/liTvan  f»o     nn^f.iTi  rf  I  Ani^tinn  "Vt*t-        o  f  f  <3>«     oil        ITTQ     o  r*f*     o/»/»no_ 


Yet,  after  all,  we  are  accus- 


to  my  own  gifts  of  endurance,  putting  j  edition 
them  to  a  very  severe  test. 

I  cannot  doubt  that,  if  I 
had  fortified  myself  by  a  pre- 
vious study  of  the  play,  I 
should  have  succeeded  better 
in  penetrating  some  of  its 
darker  purposes.  But  I  must 
still  believe  that  the  appeal  of 
the  greatest  human  dramas 
should  be  too  direct  to  stand 
in  need  of  such  preliminaries. 
It  is  true  that  the  broad 
motives  of  the  play,  and  tho 
characters  of  its  protago- 
nists, were  fairly  intelligible ; 
but  some  of  the  minor 
issues  were  veiled  (for  my 
eyes  at  least)  in  the  mists  of 
obscurity.  Much  of  this  was 
due  to  the  Pretender's  inde- 
cision of  character ;  his  ten- 
dency to  behave  "like  the 
poor  cat  i"  the  adage  "  ;  and, 
most  of  all,  his  religious 
scruples.  The  technical  act 
of  sacrilege  committed  in  his 
cause  by  the  priest,  his  son 
— an  act  which 

8)1*1  CStGQ  tn6  —  »«»,-«iiUwi  tu.   utivj      -  i  «  -  - 

full  tide  of  his  ambitions Mr.  HAVILAND.  "  Yes,  the  moving  staircase.' 


lBSES  ON  ™B 


ing  his  words  as  he  went  along ;  and 
even  when  his  motives  were  least  in 
telligible,  we  laid  the  blame  elsewhere, 
either  on  IBSEN  or  ourselves.  But  ] 
did  not  greatly  care  for  his  sing-sonf 
manner.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  Mr 
LYALL  SWETE,  to  whom  the  credit  is 
due  of  a  very  brilliant  production,  hac 
imparted  to  Mr.  IRVING  something  o; 
his  own  vocal  methods. 

Mr.  BASIL  GILL,  who,  in  the  charac- 
ter of  King  Hakon,  appeared  once  again 
as  "  the  darling  of  the  gods,"  was  not 
a  very  striking  personality.  The  Skald 
of  Mr.  GUY  BATHBONE  was  a  sound 
piece  of  work ;  I  liked  the  boyish  en- 
thusiasm of  Mr.  ION  SWINLEY,  as  Peter; 
and  there  was  one  great 
figure,  a  gold-bearded  "  Wolf- 
skin," whose  identity  escapes 
me.  But  most  of  the  minor 
characters  were  just  bar- 
barously picturesque.  As  for 
the  women — Inga  and  Inge- 
borg  (I  mixed  these  two 
badly)  and  the  rest  of  the 
medley  of  female  relatives — 
well,  these  were  the  unre- 
generate  days  when  IBSEN  had 
yet  to  become  the  apostle  of 
the  enfranchisement  of  the 
sex.  So  it  was  their  business 
(or  "  saga,"  in  tho  slang  of 
the  time)  simply  to  love  and 
sacrifice  themselves  and  be 
overlooked.  MissHELEN 
HAYE  stepped  boldly  out  of 
her  element,  but  the  others 
served  little  purpose  except  to 
add  to  my  confusion. 

The  work  of  Mr.  SIME,  who 
designed  the  costumes  and 
scenery,  and  of  Mr.  JOSEPH 


uf  u~ ""'  —  ~r,"      nr  " """"  HABKEK,  who  did  the  paint- 

•hich   apparently       Mr.  LAURENCE  IBVWO  (Skule)  to  Mr.  WILLIAM  HAVILAND  (Ghost  jne     ,vas    something 

Pretender  in  the   °f  BlshaP  NtcJiolas).  "  And  you  come  from  down  yonder ?  "V  1S  ,,SO 

Mr.  HAVILAND.  "  Yes,  the  moving  staircase."  tha".  ^Cellent      But  I  trust 


may  have  had  some  local  significance 
proper  to  the  period ;  but  a  stupendous 
world-tragedy  ought  surely  to  turn  on 
something  a  little  more  cosmic. 

Apart  from  its  two  remarkable  studies 
of  character  and  their  interaction  the 
virtue  of  the  play  lies  in  certain  isolated 
passages,  such  as  that  between  Skule, 
the  Pretender,  and  the  Skald,  or  the 
former's  welcome  of  his  new-found  son. 
The  earlier  of  these  passages,  illustra- 
tive of  the  familiar  thought  to  which 
other  poets,  gives 

"By  thine  own   tears  thy  song  must  tears 
beget — " 

is  marked  by  great  literary  beauty.  But 
such  relief  comes  rarely  "in  a  play  that 
is  primarily  a  drama  of  character  tested 
in  action. 

The  most  popular  figure  with  the 
audience  was  that  of  a  sort  of  Eight 


ROSSETTI,    among 
utterance — 


tomed  to  accept  the  Devil's  motives 
without  too  much  scrutiny,  and  so  the 
character  of  the  deplorable  old  prelate 
stands  out  clear  enough. 

There  was  a  dramatic  moment  when, 
in  the  very  article  of  death,  he  has  the 
letter  burned  which  alone  could  prove 
whether  the  King,  Hakon  Hakonsson, 
had  any  right  to  his  regal  surname. 
He  achieves  his  object — to  leave  the 
Pretender  a  legacy  of  insoluble  doubt 
—but  it  involved  a  cruel  disappoint- 
ment for  the  curiosity  of  the  audience, 
who  never  got  at  its  contents. 

The  old  heathen  took  an  unconscion- 
able time  about  his  dying ;  but  it  was 
a  great  scene,  and  Mr.  WILLIAM  HAVI- 
LAND,  who  played  the  part,  deserved 
his  triumph. 

Mr.  LAURENCE  IRVING'S  performance 
as  Skule  was  most  thoughtful  and  con- 
scientious. He  had  the  air  of  compos- 


it   didn't    cost    too    much 


for  I  cannot  hope  that  there  will  be  a 
very  brisk  market  for  this  brave  enter- 
prise, though  the  piety  of  loyal  IBSEN- 
ITES  should  carry  things  on  for  a  bit. 

O.  S. 

- 

From  a  calendar : 

"  Friday,  February  7th. 
Rhubarb  may   be  forced  outdoors." 

Personally,  whenever  we  see  a  piece  of 
rhubarb  indoors  we  force  it  out — no 
matter  what  the  date. 


' '  The  crocodile  possesses  .  .  .  eyes  and  ears 
which  enable  it  to  hold  its  prey  under  water 
and  drown  it,  without  any  inconvenience  to 
itself." — Empire  Magazine. 

We  picture  to  ourselves  the  great 
saurian  (good  /)  clinging  to  a  drowning 
antelope  with  its  eyelids,  what  time 
it  breathes  rapidly  under  water  through 
its  ears. 


FEBRUARY  19,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   0R  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


151 


LAND    HUNGER." 

Sportsman.  "HULLOA,  COLONEL,  BEEN  BOLLKQ  IN  THE  MUD?" 

Colonel.  "  WELL,  THEY  SEEM  so  ANXIOUS  TO  TAKE  MY  LAND  AWAY  FROM  MB,  I  THOUGHT  I  MIGHT  AS  WELL  HATH  A  LITTLB  o» 
SOMEONE  ELSE'S  I " 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerics.) 
I  DO  not  consider  Mr.  DESMOND  COKE  has  been  quite  fail- 
to  me.  Helena,  of  Helena  Brett's  Career  (CHAPMAN  AND 
HALL),  is  a  nice  girl  and  a  clever,  as  witness  her  feat  of 
writing  a  sort  of  a  diary  of  which  unscrupulous,  well-fed 
Blatchley,  the  publisher,  sold  30,000  copies  in  eight  weeks. 
Yet  she  did  not  in  the  first  five  minutes  see  through  the 
man  she  married — Hubert,  the  novelist — as  the  fatuous 
egoist  he  was.  Geoffrey  Alison,  the  artist,  calls  him  some- 
where a  something  "swine."  This  seemed  to  hit  the  matter 
off  rather  aptly  if  untactfully,  and  when,  having  conscien- 
tiously sought  and  failed  to  find  mitigating  circumstances, 
1  had  finally  accepted  Alison's  pr6cis, To,  Hubert,  the  worm, 
goes  and  turns  and  admits  the  stark  impeachment  even  in 
the  very  terms  of  Alison's  accusation.  "But  swine  like 
me,"  he  begins,  and  goes  on  to  make  so  abject  a  confession 
as  to  rouse  one's  pity  almost  to  the  point  of  saying,  "  Oh, 
not  at  all."  And  this  I  call  distinctly  unfair,  because  he  is 
a  beast  (if  you  assume  him  credible),  and  Helena  cannot 
possibly  have  failed  to  see  through  him  and  still  have 
remained  Helena.  And  it  is  all  very  ill  of  Mr.  COKE  to 
pretend  otherwise.  Then,  again,  Hubert's  sister  Ruth, 
going  or  driven  away,  a  tactless,  fussy  stage-spinster,  how 
can  she  come  back,  after  no  sufficient  adventure  or  dis- 
cipline that  we  hear  of,  so  discerning  and  so  pleasantly 
different?  No,  our  novelist  conceals  all  motives  and  pro- 
cesses, only  giving  the  alleged  facts ;  and  I  don't  call  this 
playing  the  game.  I  suppose  what  I  really  mean  is  that 
I  expected  something  much  better  from  Mr.  DESMOND  COKE. 


I  cannot  help  being  thankful  that  I  am  not  one  of  the 
characters  in  a  story  by  Mr.  HUGH  WALPOLE.  They  do 
have  such  a  remarkably  poor  time  of  it.  An  atmosphere 
of  hatred  and  gloom  appears  to  surround  them  from  birth  ; 
persons  are  continually  beating  and  ill-using  them,  and 
they  can  never  love  a'nything  approaching  a  dear  gazelle 
without  its  being  quite  sure  to  pine  away  in  the  earliest 
possible  chapter.  This  certainly  is  what  happens  to 
Peter  Westcott,  the  hero  of  Fortitude  (SECKEK).  To  drop 
flippancy,  hero  is  a  book  about  which,  now  that  I  have 
read  it  with  great  care,  I  am  wholly  unable  to  form  a 
judgment  that  shall  be  expressed  by  any  reasonable  number 
of  adjectives.  It  seems  to  me  by  turns  grim  and  gloomy 
and  powerful ;  here  and  there  are  passages  of  real  and 
singular  beauty,  followed  by  whole  chapters  that  are  merely 
artificial  and  unconvincing.  It  has,  I  believe,  been  com- 
pared to  the  work  of  DICKENS  ;  and  indeed  it  would  be  easy 
for  the  curious  to  trace  out  a  parallel  between  its  charac- 
ters and  those  in  David  Copperfield,  which  would  sound 
astonishingly  complete.  Yet  no  two  books  could  well  be 
more  unlike  in  spirit.  I  have  indicated  that  I  found  Mr. 
WALPOLE'S  tale  unequal.  The  Cornish  parts  impressed  me 
enormously.  All  the  early  chapters  that  treat  of  Scaw 
House,  and  the  influence  upon  Peter  of  its  tradition  of  cruelty 
and  degradation,  are  wonderfully  forcible.  And  the  end, 
when,  after  years  of  striving  and  apparent  defeat,  he  comes 
back  prepared  to  give  in  and  accept  the  curse,  provides,  un- 
foreseen, one  of  the  most  genuine  "creeps"  that  I  have  met. 
It  is  in  Peter's  intervening  life  that  I  am  sometimes  sus- 
picious that  Mr.  WAI/POLE  is  tormenting  him,  as  his  father 
did,  more  out  of  malice  than  for  truth's  sake.  Fate  here 


152 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FBHHUABY  19,  1913. 


seemed  a  little  self-conscious.       But  tho   book  remains, 
however  regarded,  a  notable  achievement. 

It  is  not  often  that  one  comes  across  a  piece  of  coastline 
of  whicn  tho  mere  subsoil  is  worth  two  hundred  pounds 
a  ton  for  export,  by  reason  of  its  containing  wolframite, 
known  amongst  tho  knowing  as  W02.  When  one  does, 
it  is  tiresome  enough  to  find  another  fellow  there  already 
exporting  that  subsoil  as  fast  as  ho  can.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  think  of  a  more  convenient  way  of  dealing  with 
this  other  fellow  than  that  of  blowing  him  up,  himself,  his 
assistants,  his  head  offices  and  all,  with  an  adequate 
charge  of  picric  acid  and  an  electric  fuse — a  method  which 
has  the  double  advantage  of  eliminating  one  trade  competitor 
and  putting  off  others.  But  for  myself,  if  I  had  the  picric 
acid  carefully  arranged  and  the  electric  fuse  timed  to 
work  punctually  at  10  P.M.,  I  should  hesitate  to  keep  an 
appointment  at  the  doomed  office  anywhere  near  that  hour. 
Van  Noppen  was  quite  in  order  in  making  the  appointment, 
for  that  ensured  the  presence  of  the  right  people  in  the  right 
place  at  the  right  time ; 
but  his  mistake,  his  ele- 
mentary mistake,  lay  in 
keeping  it.  Otherwise 
WO,  (METHUEN)  is 
quite  the  most  con- 
vincing tale  of  scoundrel 
adventure  that  I  have 
read  for  a  long  time. 
I  seemed  to  have  lost 
the  capacity  for  being 
excited,  mystified,  de- 
voted to  heroes,  dis- 
tressed by  villains  and 
kept  up  past  midnight 
to  see  things  put  right. 
Mr.  MAURICE  DRAKE, 
however,  in  his  dashing, 
breezy  style,  has  ena- 
moured me  again  of  my 
old  love,  the  drama  in 
which  one  watches, 
breathless,  the  progress 
of  events  and  is  not 


FORGOTTEN  DEEDS  OP  VALOUR. 

A  vrrr,L-MEAKino  BUT  TACTLESS  VISITOP.  DIUWB  THE  ATTENTION  OP  BENVENUTO 
CELLINI  TO  AN  ANATOMICAL  EKROK  IN  ONE  OF  nis  MASTEHPIECES. 


•worried  with  the  too  minute  analysis  of  motive  and 
character.  There  is  so  natural  a  charm  in  his  picture 
of  the  good  ship,  Luck  and  Charity,  that  I  am  forced  to 
assume  that  he  is  a  sailor  himself,  and  the  crudeness  of 
his  brief  digression  into  female  suffrage,  so  far  from 
irritating,  pleasantly  confirms  me  in  that  belief.  We 
like  our  seamen  to  bo  boisterous,  sturdy  and  downright, 
thorough  masters  of  their  own  subject  and,  if  not  frankly 
ignorant  of,  at  least  not  too  conversant  with,  the  subtleties 
of  domestic  politics.  And  a  man  of  the  sea,  most  em- 
phatically, is  this  author. 

There  is  a  popular  belief — to  which  I  have  never  altogether 
subscribed — that  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  Russian  people  are 
anarchists,  and  it  is  interesting  to  find  that  the  popular 
belief  is  wrong.  So  far  as  I  am  able  to  estimate  after 
reading  Mr.  ROTHAY  REYNOLDS'S  book,  My  Russian  Year 
(MILLS  AND  BOON),  sixty  per  cent,  would  be  nearer  the 
mark,  if  not  seventy.  They  are  not  all  fierce,  militant 
anarchists.  Some  are  very  nice,  though  they  are  the  real 
tiling  at  heart.  Mr.  REYNOLDS  depicts  Russians  of  whom 
almost  anything  seems  possible.  You  may  find  among 
the  peasants  the  Anglo-Saxon  serf.  There  are  pilgrims 
belonging  to  the  age  of  the  Crusades.  There  are  those  who 
hold  religious  views  belonging  to  the  reign  of  ELIZABETH. 


Society  is  full  of  the  artificialities  of  the  time  of  Louis  XIV. 
There  are  aristocrats  and  citizens  in  the  best  eighteenth- 
century  manner.  In  certain  classes  there  is  an  amazing 
culture.  Cooking  is  French  "perfected  by  the  influence  of 
the  higher  culinary  thought  of  the  country,"  and  yet  dinner 
may  be  anywhere  between  one  and  eight.  Intertwined 
with  all  this  there  is  in  operation  a  process  of  levelling — 
both  down  and  up.  And  over  all  there  seems  to  hang  the 
shadow  of  tragedy  which  a  knife  or  a  pistol  shot  or  a  bomb 
may  at  any  moment  make  a  reality.  I  give  thus,  I  am 
afraid,  a  very  superficial  idea  of  what  this  excellent  book 
has  to  say,  and  no  idea  at  all  of  the  entertaining  way  in 
which  it  says  it.  But  there  is  too  much  in  it  for  a  summary. 
It  is  the  best  work  of  its  kind  I  have  seen  for  years. 

The  Finger  of  Mr.  Bice  (JOHN  LANE)  is  a  new  humorous 
novel,  by  a  new  humorous  writer,  Mr.  PETER  BLUNDELL, 
in  a  new  setting — a  tropical  island.  To  dissect  a  joke  must 
always  be  a  dark  and  dreadful  task ;  the  hardest  thing, 
therefore,  that  I  propose  to  say  about  Mr.  BLUNDELL'S  wit 

is  that  it  is  at  times  less 
original  and  striking 
than  its  sotting.  H:s 
characters,  especially 
the  nautical  ones,  have 
obviously  sat  at  the  sea- 
boots  of  Mr.  W.  JACOBS 
and  not  come  empty 
away.  But  if  their  in- 
terchange of  pleasant- 
ries and  "scores"  has 
a  familiar  ring,  there 
are  other  persons  in  the 
tale  —  the  half-caste 
hero  and  the  shore 
society  of  the  islands — 
that  are  both  new  and 
welcome.  When  Mr. 
BLUNDELL  isn't  bother- 
ing to  be  funny,  and 
lets  himself  go  in  a 
picture,  for  example, 
of  a  steamer's  engine- 
room  at  sea,  or  any 
one  of  a  dozen  sketches  of  life  in  a  tropical  township, 
he  is  at  his  very  good  best,  sure,  vivid,  and  picturesque. 
It  would  be  quite  impossible  hero  to  trace  in  detail  the 
varied  adventures  of  Harold  Blec,  Eurasian  clerk  and 
(unofficial)  pawn  in  the  dispute  between  tho  two  rival  chiefs 
of  Jallagar — the  Commandant's  lady  and  the  wife  of  the 
steamship  agent.  This  shows  you  in  a  sentence  the 
character  of  the  tale  and  most  of  its  plot.  The  latter 
culminates,  after  the  approved  model,  in  a  scene  of  uproar- 
ious farce  at  the  official  garden  party  given  by  Mrs. 
Commandant  on  the  occasion  of  the  King's  birthday. 
Personally,  I  should  have  enjoyed  the  party  better  without 
the  farce,  but  this  is  my  own  affair.  Both  are  agreeable  of 
their  kind.  ==^=== 

The  Worst  Joke  of  the  Month. 

In  the  International  speed-skating  race  of  1,500  metres 
at  Stockholm,  IPPOLITOFF  was  only  second.  What  they 
are  all  asking  in  Russia  to-day  is  "  Why  didn't  Ippolitoff  ?  " 

"  It  was  in  a  little  country  town  in  tho  West  of  Englrmd,  and  Jlr*. 
Goodman,  excellent  citizen  and  kind-hearted  ma,  allowed  himself  to  bo 
chosen  mayor  for  tho  fourth  time." — Minneapolis  Evening  Journal. 

The  second  misprint  was  a  noble  feat  of  consistency 
on  the  part  of  the  compositor.  A  pity  he  couldn't  have 
rounded  it  off  with  "  herself." 


Fi:m:uARY  26.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


153 


CHARIVARIA. 

Now  that  the  town  council  has  issued 
an  order  that  no  strap-hanger  in  a  tram- 
cur  need  pay  a  fare,  it  is  a  real  pleasure 
to  oli-servo  the  renaissance  of  chivalry 
in  Chicago.  Men  who  used  to  go  to 
earth  behind  evening  papers  on  tho 
entrance  of  a  woman  now  spring  to 
tlieirfcot  in  platoons  without  a  moment's 

hesitation.  *  * 

* 

In  tho  same  city  there  is  at  present  a 
scarcity  of  funds  such  as  has  not  been 
known  since  the  great  fire.  According 
to  tho  reports,  even  tho  police  depart- 
ment is  pressed  for  money.  And 
when  one  remembers  the  ingenuity  of 
American  police  -  forces  in  raising  the 
wind  such  a  statement 
nies  highly  impres- 
sive. *  * 


At  a  recent  show  a 
new  kind  of  dog  was 
exhibited.  One  of  its 
points  was  that  its  feet 
o  longer  and  larger 
than  those  of  any  Eng- 
lish breed.  Almost  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  police- 
dogs  of  which  we  hear 
so  much. 

* 

Mr.  ALLEN  BAKER, 
M.P.,  speaking  at  a 
dinner  last  week,  said 
that  tho  phrase,  "  the 
quick  and  tho  dead," 
was  applicable  to  motor- 
omnibuses.  The  quick 
were  those  who  dodged 
them;  the  dead  were 
those  who  did  not.  Next 
week  Mr.  BAKER  will  tell  a  now  and 
diverting  story  about  a  curate  and  an 
('gg-  *,* 

After  sitting  for  fifty-four  days,  the 
Kolb  vulture  at  the  Zoo  hatched 
out  a  chick,  which  it  promptly  ate. 
Kncouraged  by  this  episode,  the  au- 
thorities hope  that  in  time  the  Kolb 
vulture  may  become  self-supporting. 
*  * 

5r 

News  reaches  us  of  a  snail  in  the 
same  collection  which,  according  to 
tho  report,  camo  out  of  its  shell  and 
crawled  about  uncovered.  And  we  had 
hoped  that  tho  Salome  craze  was  gone. 
$  '','• 

A  Bill  has  passed  the  Nevada  State 
legislature,  by  which  persons  wishing 
for  a  divorce  are  compelled  to  stay  in 
Reno  six  full  months,  instead  of  three, 
isin  the  brave  old  days ;  and  a  stampede 
>f  American  citizens  is  expected  hourly 
.11  the  direction  of  Chinese  Turkestan, 
.vhci-3  a  bill  of  divorce  is  written  out 


at  the  same  time  that  a  marriago  is 
celebrated.  ^  „ 

* 

Asbestos  pockets  for  tho  accommo- 
dation of  lighted  pipes  and  cigars  have 
been  invented  by  an  American  tailor. 

Also  useful  for  tho  modera  novel. 

*  * 

According  to  tho  Times,  the  general 
earliness  of  Spring  is  a  cause  of  anxiety 
to  the  earnest  gardener.  Wo  did  not 
know  that  there  were  any  earnest 
gardeners  at  this  time  of  the  year.  Wo 
thought  they  had  all  knocked  off  work 
to  listen  for  the  February  cuckoo. 

*  * 
# 

In  Devonshire,  however,  they  have 
definitely  given  it  up.  "  Even  if  the 
cuckoo  has  not  actually  been  heard," 


Weighty  Novice.  "TALK  ABOUT  STEF.IIING  rs  CROWDED  BOOMS!   I  SEEMED  TO 

DROP  INTO  IT   AT  ONCE." 


writes  a  Devonian  correspondent  of  an 
evening  paper,  "  I  have  just  seen  a  fine 
specimen  of  tho  tortoise-shell  butter- 
fly." This  craven  spirit  ill  becomes 
the  men  of  Devon. 


*  * 
* 


Complaints  have  been  made  of  the 
'"disreputable  appearance"  of  the  grave- 
diggers  present  at  funerals  at  Fulham 
Cemetery,  and,  in  addition  to  being 
provided  with  a  suitable  uniform,  it  is 
understood  that  they  are  to  be  sent  in 
batches  to  the  next  play  at  tho  St. 
James's  Theatre,  in  order  that  they 
may  acquire  an  ideal,  at  any  rate,  with 
regard  to  the  trouser-leg. 

:;:     ;;: 

Two  Territorials  have  been  fined  for 
non-attendance  at  training,  their  defence 
being  that  the  sound  of  firing  gave 
them  a  headache.  Unless  the  enemy, 
in  the  event  of  an  invasion,  consent  to 
use  air-guns,  or  somebody  invents 
noiseless  powder,  we  see  no  way  .out  of 
this  impa-sse. 


Mr.  JOHN  N.  RAPHAEL  told  in  a 
lecture  last  week  the  story  of  how 
Clor.xoD,  having  a  bad  bilious  attack, 
sat  down  at  tho  piano  and  set  it  to 
music.  We  think  this  must  have  been 
the  piece  wo  heard  at  a  concert  not 
long  ago,  though  GOUNOD'S  name  was 
not  attached  to  it  on  the  programme. 
*  * 

Questioned  concerning  tho  bomb 
outrage  at  Walton  Heath,  an  official  of 
tho  Women's  Social  and  Political  Union 
said :  "  It  might  have  been  done  as  a 
joke."  Ono  has,  of  course,  to  I  o  in  t'ie 
mood  to  appreciate  this  kind  of  genial 
fun.  Once  you  see  it,  you  laugh 
heartily.  „.  # 

• 

Man  the  Brute.  Within  a  few 
months,  tho  wife  and 
three  daight3rs  of  a 
resident  in  Pottsvillo, 
Pa.,  U.S.A.,  have  under- 
gone operations  for  ap- 
pendicitis. "  The  head 
of  the  family, "adds  our 
informant,  "  says  he  is 
enjoying  perfect 
health."  He  might  at 
least  have  had  the  tact 
to  pretend  that  he  had 
toothache. 

*  * 
* 

A  very  poor  time  of  it 
prisoners  in  America 
seem  to  have.  Mr. 
BOOROHIEB  made  us 
familiar  with  the  Third 
Degree  of  the  New  York 
police ;  and  now  comes 
the  news  that,  during 
trials  in  the  Danville, 
Kentucky,  police  court, 
music  will  be  played  on 
tho  piano  while  the  accused  are  testi- 
fying— the  idea  being  that  it  will "  break 
down  the  stubborn  wills  of  prisoners." 
For  ourselves,  rather  than  maintain  our 
innocence  in  rag-time,  we  would  plead 
guilty  from  the  start. 
*...* 

A  football  match  in  Scotland  had  to 
be  stopped  the  other  day  because  the 
cro%vd,  annoyed  at  a  decision  of  the 
referee,  broke  on  to  the  field  in  a  solid 
mass  and  refused  to  go  back  again. 
Surely  it  would  have  been  sufficient 
for  Scotland  to  refuse  to  play  football 
with  France  because  of  the  violence  of 
the  French  spectators,  without  going 
to  the  length  of  showing  them  how 
that  sort  of  thing  should  really  be 
done  in  style. 


"  MoTOK-BiKE,  complete,  less  engine,  frame, 
tank,  coil,  saddle,  handlebar,  tyres,  etc., 
£i  5s."—Advl.  in  "  Motor  Cycling." 

Too  expensive.     We  simply  can't  pay 
£4  5s.  for  .the  hooter. 


VOL.  CXLTV. 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEDBOABY  26,  1913. 


HOW  TO   SAVE   ENGLAND   ON   THE   CHEAP. 

Colonel  SEVLT  addresses  the  National  Reserve. 
[No  sort  of  ridicule  is  hero  aimed  at  the  good  fellows  who,  without 
l>a\mt'iit,  have  pledged  themselves  to  serve  in  the  nation's  dcfmcc 
and  have  been  refused  even  the  dignity  of  a  uniform  in  recognition  of 
the  new  order  of  chivalry.] 


in  your  country's  ranks  enrolled, 

This  is  indeed  a  sight  that  cheers  —  - 
These  serried  lines  composed  of  old 

Eegulars,  Tars,  and  Volunteers  ! 
I  hear  that,  when  the  foeman's  hordes  come  on, 

If  we  have  not  at  once  dismissed  "em 
You  are  prepared  to  render  aid  upon 

The  voluntary  system. 

That  system,  beautifully  framed 

To  glorify  spontaneous  work, 
Making  the  others  feel  ashamed  —  • 

The  loafers  who  elect  to  shirk  — 
Long  since  has  been  our  purest,  fairest  prida; 

Under  its  sway  the  Empire  waxes 
(Many  indeed  would  have  the  rule  applied 

To  things  like  rates  and  taxes). 

Should  ever  England,  by  mistake, 

Demand  of  all  her  sons  alike 
A  common  sacrifice  to  make, 

And  learn  in  her  defence  to  strike, 
If  you  will  credit  me,  the  soldiers'  friend, 

Grown  old  in  service,  old  and  hoary, 
That  day,  as  I  predict,  will  see  the  end 

Of  our  rough  Island  story. 

Men  of  the  National  Reserve  ! 

When  Armageddon  puts  a  strain 
Even  upon  the  veteran's  nerve 

Beneath  the  bullets'  steady  rain, 
Grateful  for  any  help  where  things  are  warm, 

My  Government  will  give  permission 
To  each  of  you  to  have  a  uniform, 

A  rifle  and  some  ammunition  ! 

Meanwhile,  you  jnust  forgo  your  needs, 

Content,  until  the  actual  scrap,  * 
To  march  unarmed  in  motley  weedsr 

Beaver  and  billycock  and  cap.  •! 
,Why  not?     I  too.  in  civil  guise  have  dressed, 

Yet  looked  extremely  smart  and  dapper, 
For  still  the  warrior  in  me  shone  confessed 

Clean  through  the  outside  wrapper. 

Be  patient,  then,  as  you  are  brave  ! 

Two  patriot  courses  you  must  keep: 
You  have  your  country's  life  to  save, 

'  And  you  must  do  it  on  the  cheap  ; 
We,  for  our  part,  will  look  with  kindly  cyo 

On  any  service  offered  freely, 
Like  yours  who  gratis  undertake  to  die 

For  England,  home,  and  SEELY.  O.  S. 

1  '  Briseis  Tin.—  Aninterim  dividend  of  Gd.  per  share  has  been  declared. 
Briseis  Tin.—  An  interim  dividend  of  6d.  per  share  has  been  declared.  '  ' 

Su.iday  Times. 

Making  Is.  altogether.    It  is  well  to  break  the  good  news 
gently. 

"The  Eskimos  are  suffering  from  contact  with  European  traders, 
and  are  rapidly  dying  off  from  measles.  Mr.  Steffansson  urges  the 
Government  to  send  a  number  of  mounted  police  to  the  district  to 
protect  the  natives  from  disease."  —  Manclu-ster  Guardian. 
We  picture  a  policeman  "  moving  on  "  a  couple  of  measles, 
and  finally  arresting  them  for  loitering. 


WHEN  WAR  BECOMES  IMPOSSIBLE. 

IT  was  the  severest  form  of  warfare — street  fighting. 
Moreover  there  were  no  uniforms,  no  trappings  of  military 
organisation.  The  combatants  were  in  every  nonconformity 
of  civilian  dress ;  and  they  were  mere  boys.  But  as  I 
watched  I  thought  of  BUSKIN'S  words  on  the  ennobling 
influence  of  war.  For  it  had  been  raining;  yet  some  of 
the  attackers  lay  prone  on  the  wet  pavement  and  even  in 
the  road. 

The  fight  was  raging  round  the  playground  entrance  of 
the  school  where  but  a  little  while  before  there  had  been 
peace  and  order  and  the  elementary  education  which  fits 
boys  and  girls  to  be  citizens.  The  noise  of  battle  echoed 
in  the  street  where  the  little  girls  had  only  just  gone 
swarming  home  with  jocund  shouts. 

For  a  moment  the  firing  had  lulled.  The  attackers 
were  creeping  up  for  a  final  rush.  They  hugged  the 
houses-  that  stood  flush  with  the  playground  wall.  The 
defenders,  too,  contemplated-  some  counter-movement ;  and 
every  now  and  then  the  great  iron  gate  in  the  wall  was 
opened  slightly  for  a  reconnaissance.  Still  the  attackers 
crept'closer  and  closer,  their  crouching  figures  suggesting 
something  about  to  spring.  It  was  the  supreme  moment. 

I  was  quite  close ;  and  I  could  hear  their  leaders  explain- 
ing the  plan  of  attack  and  exhorting  them  to  brave 
deeds.  Occasionally  the  rank  and  file  answered  back — • 
short,  bitten  words  of  suggestion.  Discipline  was  forgotten, 
such  was  the  tension. 

Then  suddenly  the  great  iron  gate  swung  open.  The 
defenders  swarmed  out.  Instantly  the  attackers  hurled 
themselves  forward.  The  rattle  of  firing  broke  out  again. 
The  two  forces  met  and  intermingled  in  an  awful  melee. 
The  firing  increased.  Figures  lay  on  the  pavement  com- 
paratively still. 

"•  Amid  the  tumult  of  combatants  I  watched  two — a  thin 
enthusiast  and  a  short  fleshy  boy. 

The  enthusiast  charged  at  the  other,  pistol  levelled. 
Bang !  Bang !  "  You  're  killed,  Bill  Smiff !  " 

VNo,  I  ain't!". 

"  Yes,  y'ar !  " 

Tba  enthusiast  put  his  arms,  round  Smith,  meaning  to; 
deposit  him  firmly  upon  the  pavement,  as  was  the  custom 
with  the  unwilling  slain.  —  • 

Smith  wriggled  away,  refusing  last  aid.  "  I  tell  you  I 
ain't  going  to  be  killed." 

"  Well;  then,  be  wounded,"  suggested  the  other. 

"Na-oh!"  Smith's  hands  dug  into  the  pockets  of  his 
knickers. 

Then  the  other  lifted  up  his  voice  amid  the  din  of  battle 
— a  shrill  cry  that  pierced  the  noise  of  firing  and  the  cries 
of  combatants. 

"  I  say,  Bill  Smiff  won't  be  killed ;  and  I  fired  at  him 
twice ! " 

The  effect  of  the  words  was  instantaneous.  True,  the 
fury  of  the  encounter  was  on  the  wane,  but  that  did  not 
explain  the  immediate  cessation  of  hostilities.  The  fight 
stopped.  The  killed  and  wounded,  lying  on  the  pavement, 
raised  their  heads  to  see  what  was  happening ;  some  even 
got  up.  Everywhere  combatants  stood  in  all  attitudes  of 
arrested  action.  The  accusation  against  Bill  Smith  shrilled 
out  again.  "  I  fired  at  him  twice — close;  and  he  won't  be 
killed ! " 

"  No,  nor  yet  wounded,"  announced  Smith.  "  Not  on  a 
wet  day  like  this.  It 's  silly."  And  he  marched  off. 

There  was  a  moment  of  general  bewilderment.  But 
when  I  left,  the  combatants  had  fraternised;  some 
were  even  exchanging  percussion  caps  for  things  out  of  a 
paper  bag. 


PUNCH,   OB  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— FEBRUARY  26.   1913. 

-fc 


ANOTHER  CONFEEENCE  OF  LONDON. 


*°  thr°W  Open  the  h°Spitabl°  doors  of  St'  Jamcs'B 


FEBRUARY  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


157 


ACIDULATED    GOLF. 

•DON'T  KNOW  now  TO  TIAY  THIS,  CADDIE?  " 

•WHY,  YOU'VE  GOT  A  GKASD  USE,  Sin.    FOLLOW  THE  S.    THE  OTHEB  GENTLEMAN'S  BUNKEHED  ix  THE  E." 


THE  JILTED   NUT. 

I  AM  not  an  eavesdropper;  but  now 
and  then  drops  are,  so  to  speak,  eaved 
upon  one,  and  that  is  what  happened 
to  mo  last  evening  at  the  Eayon  de 
So'.eil,  the  latest  of  the  little  Soho 
restaurants.  I  was  sitting  there  alone, 
waiting  for  a  friend,  and  at  the  next 
table  was  a  young  man  moodily  eyeing 
alternately  a  bottle  and  the  door.  Four 
things  about  him  were  evident :  that  he 
was  what  is  called  a  nut ;  that  he  was 
drinking  more  than  he  ought ;  that  he 
ha:l  something  oa  his  mind;  and 
that  he  was  expecting  a  companion. 
Suddenly  his  appearance  brightened, 
for  the  companion  arrived,  a  nut  also ; 
and  it  was  then  that,  in  spite  of  any 
effort  to  avoid  it  that  I  might  have 
made,  his  confidences  became  mine ; 
for  the  Eayon  de  Soleil  tables  are 
extremely  near  together  and  his  voice, 
naturally  loud  and  nutty,  was  rendered 
still  louder  by  the  alcohol  robbing  his 
perceptions  of  their  edge.  As  my  friend 
did  not  arrive  to  distract  m?,  I  am  in  a 
position  to  set  down  the  young  man's 
words  almost  exactly  as  he  spok«  them  ; 
and  I  trust  I  commit  no  indiscretion  in 
doing  so.  Should  he  ever  read  this 
page  (and  ho  did  not  look  like  a  lover 


of  print)  ho  can  rest  assured  that  I 
wish  him  all  happiness ;  that  there  is 
too  little  description  to  give  him  away; 
and  that  so  many  of  his  kind  arc  turned 
down  by  so  many  of  her  kind  that  he 
could  always  deny  his  own  identity. 

He  rose  to  his  fact  to  greet  his  friend 
and  dropped  back  into  his  chair.  On 
the  table,  I  should  say,  was  only  a 
bottle,  nothing  to  cat.  "  My  dear 
man,"  he  said,  holding  the  other's  hand 
in  an  emotional  grip  for  a  whole  minute, 
"  what  a  trump  you  are  to  come  like 
this !  Infernal  good  luck  of  mine  getting 
on  to  you.  I  never  was  in  such  need 
of  sympathy.  My  engagement 's  broken 
off." 

The  oilier  nut  whistled.  "  I  didn't 
know  it  was  an  engagement,"  ho  said. 

"  \Vo!l,  no,"  said  the  first  nut,  "it 
waiu't  exactly,  but  fundamentally  it 
was.  We  both  understood  each  other. 
But  this  afternoon  she  told  me  to  con- 
sider it  at  an  end.  It 's  completely 
broken  me  up,  eld  man.  I  haven't  been 
able  to  eat  a  morsel  of  food;  I  've  just 
been  sitting  here  in  despair.  She  was 
on  the  stage,  you  know,  but  a  good 
girl.  I  '11  swear  she  was  a  good  girl, 
and  fundamentally  she  loved  me.  I 
believe  she  loves  me  still — fundament- 
ally. Of  course  it  was  awkward — her 


j  being  on  the  stage.  My  people  would 
have  made  an  awful  dust  about  it ; 
they  'd  have  never  given  their  consent ; 
but  now  it  'a  all  over.  Of  course  I 
shall  have  to  go  away — I  don't  know 
where,  but  right  away  ;  but  I  want  to 
get  drunk  first.  You  don't  mind  mo 

:  getting  drunk,  old  man?  I  want  to 
get  furiously  drunk.  How  much  have 
you  got  ?  I  've  only  got  six  shillings. 
I  've  already  had  two  liqueurs  and  now 
I  've  got  this  Burgundy.  I  tried  trj  eat 
some  soup,  but  I  couldn't.  Fundament- 

j  ally  I  'm  sure  she  loves  mo.  I  'd  like 
to  talk  to  some  woman  about  it  all ; 
they  're  so  rippingly  sympathetic ;  but 
so  are  you,  and  that 's  why  I  rang  you 
up.  You  're  all  right ;  but  women  are 
best.  Do  you  mind  if  I  order  another 
bottle?  Fundamentally  I  swear  she 
loves  me." 

"For  Sale  Tasmanian  Opossum  Carriage  or 
Motor  rug,  1  rge  sizo  containing  30  skins  14 
tails.  Cost  £15  guineas  tako'1'2;  new  never 
been  used.  Apply  '  Opossum  Office  of  this 
paper.'  " — Advt.in  "  Daily  Malta  Chronicle." 
The  buildings  of  our  contemporary — 
with  an  "Opossum  Oflice,"  "Jerboa 
Department,"  "  Weasel  Section,"  etc., 
for  each  different  class  of  reader — are 
supposed  to  be  the  best  equipped  in  all 
^he  newspaper  world. 


She  is  so 


THE    SILK    UMBRELLA; 

OR, 

SELF-SACHIFICE  ON  THE  STAGE. 
[Four  jieople  are  seated  in  a  large 
drawiiKj-room.  They  should  wear 
a  worried  look,  and  Elizabeth,  the 
young  heroine,  should  give  an 
occasional  gaxp.  Henry  Ashton, 
the  stern  solicitor,  might  have  a 
break  in  his  voice;  his  brother 
Edward  must  not  yawn ;  the  Elderly 
Matron  is  a  symbolical  figure 
and  sliould  remain  in  the  back- 
ground. 

Elizabeth.  I  am  innocent :  I  repeat 
t,  I  am  innocent. 

Henry  Ashton.  Alas,  your  guilt  is 
obvious.  Why  these  denials  ?  I  can- 
not spare  you. 

Elderly" Matron.  Oh,  do! 
young. 

Henry  Ashton.  Im- 
possible. It  is  Lady 
MacVicar'  s  umbrella 
and  she  insists  on  pro- 
secuting. 

Elderly  Matron.  But 
Elizabeth  is  your  guest ! 
Henry  Ashton.  I 
cannot  help  that.  So 
is  Lady  MacVicar.  She 
throws  herself  on  my 
protection  and  her  be- 
longings are  sacred. 
Besides,  I  am  in  a 
position  of  trust ;  I  am 
a  town  councillor.  I 
took  an  oath — I  swore 
— I  swore — at  least  I 
entered  into  an  engage- 
ment of  some  kind.  I 
have  a  duty  to  Society  ; 
at  any  cost  to  my 
feelings  I  must  perform  it.  The  police 
are  even  now  on  their  way. 

[Enter  Percy  Ashton,  Henry's  eldest 
son,  immaculately  dressed,  with 
green  spats. 

Percy  (aside}.  "What  is  this?  Eliza- 
beth accused  of  theft?  I  must  save 
her  at  all  costs  ;  I  will  sacrifice  myself, 
my  family,  my  father,  my  chance  of 
getting  into  the  Foreign  Office.  (Aloud) 
Elizabeth  is  innocent.  I  will  tell  you 
tho  truth.  The  culprit  is  here,  he  is 
me— I  mean,  I  am  him.  Anyhow,  I 
took  the  umbrella. 

All  (in  tones  of  horror).  You? 

Percy  (rather  crossly).  Yes,  me. 

[Elizabeth  gives  him  a  grateful  look. 

Henry    Ashton.  Percy,   what  do    I 

hear?   Have  I  been  drinking,  or  is  this 

true  ?     Was  it  for  this  I  sent  you  to  an 

academy  for  young  gentlemen — (great 

emphasis  on  last  word) — and  afterwards 

to    Marlborough    and   Wadham?     Is 

this  your  start  in  life  ?    Alas,  if  I  could 

have"foreseen  this  I  would  have  lent  you 


the  half-crown  you  wanted ;     I  would 
have  lent  you  five  shillings ;  but  I  can 
say  no  more ;  I  am  no  public  speaker. 
[Buries  his  face  in  his  hands. 

All  (very  heartily).  Oh,  Percy! 

Percy  (doggedly).  All  is  over.     I  will 
go  and  change.  [Exit. 

Henry  Ashton.  I  must  go   and   see 
Lady  MaeVicar  and  offer  her  a  new 


umbrella. 


[Exit. 


[James,  the  second  son,  rushes  in.    lie 
is  the  sportsman  of  the  family. 

James.  Oh,  here  you  are  !  They  told 
me  you  were  in  the  billiard-room.  How 
dare  you  accuse  Elizabeth  of  theft? 
She  is  innotent,  I  would  lay  any  odds 
on  it.  Besides,  I  know  who  did  it. 
(In  a  burst  of  enthusiasm)  I  did  it. 
[Elizabeth  gives  him  a  grateful  look. 

All  (surprised).  You  took  the  um- 
brella? 


Proud  Owner.  "Off  COUBSE,  THIS  is  ONLY  VILLAGE-WOBK, 

WAIT  TILL  WE  GET  DOT  INTO  THE  OPEN." 


Edward  Ashton.  But  I  don't  quite 
understand.  Percy— 

Elderly  Matron  (whispering).  Hush, 
hush.  Elizabeth's  character  must  be 
cleared  at  all  costs. 

Edward  Ashton.  True.  (Reflectively) 
And  it  may  be  another  umbrella. 
Well,  James,  all  I  can  say  is — 

[Looks  up  and  finds  that  James  has 
left  the  room,  gives  a  sigh  of  relief, 
and  is  silent.  Next  moment  Henry 
Ashton  returns,  followed  by  Police- 
Sergeant. 

Sergeant  (very  genially).  Good  morn- 
ing, Sir.  I  hear  you  have  a  charge  of 
theft  for  us  ? 

[Henry  Ashton's  third  son,  Adol- 
phus,  rustics  in.  He  is  the  artist 
of  the  family. 

Adolphus.  Stop,  stop,  she  is  inno- 
cent !  I  give  myself  up.  I  took  the 
umbrella.  (Immense  sensation.  All  rise 
in  astonishment.  Elizabeth  gives  him 
a  grateful  look.)  It  was  a  sudden 
temptation;  I  fell  into  it  at  once.  I 


forget  the  details,  but  I  know  that 
I  took  the  umbrella,  and  my  conscience 
has  never  ceased  to  upbraid  me.  For- 
give me.  I  will  devote  the  rest  of  my 
life  to  making  amends. 

[Percy  and  James,  the  former  in  a  pair 
of  dove-coloured  spats,  return  and 
hear  the  end  of  his  speech ;    they 
draw  Adolphus  aside. 
Percy.   Don't   talk   nonsense,   Adol- 
phus.    I  have  already  confessed. 
James.  You  ?     But  so  have  I. 
Adolphus.  Don't  be  absurd.     I  have 
sacrificed  myself. 

Percy  and  James.  So  have  we. 
Adolphus.  We  must  agree  on  some- 
thing ;  somebody  must  withdraw. 

Edward  (coming  up  to  them).  Perhaps 
you  all  did  it  ? 

Percy,  James,  Adolphus  (hesitating). 
Yes,  we  suppose  so. 

Henry  Ashton.  You 
all  took  it?  All  my 
sons  thieves ! 

Edward  (in  a  solemn 
voice).  Henry,  it  is  the 
Ashton  inheritance. 
[All  sit  down  heavily. 
A  moment's  silence 
and   then  Lady 
MacVicar,    stout, 
fashionable  and 
flurried,  comes  in. 
Lady  MacVicar.  I'm 
extremely  sorry.    I  owe 
you  all,  and  especially 
this  dear  girl,  a  thou- 
sand  apologies.      I 
have     found    my    um- 
brella.    Here  it  is. 
[Waves  it  in  tlie  air. 
All  (stupefied).  Found 
it! 

Lady  Mac  Vicar.  Yes ; 


OLD  CHAP.    You 


it  had  got  behind  the  dressing-table. 
I  don't  know  why  I  took  it  into  my 
room. 

Elizabeth  (struggling  to  master  her 
indignation).  Oh! 

Percy,  James,  Adolphus.  Then  we  are 
innocent. 

Henry  Ashton  (with  emphasis).  As 
innocent  as  babes. 

Edward.  I  see  it  all,  my  boys.  You 
are  heroes.  You  were  willing  to  sacri- 
fice yourselves  for  one  another  and  for 
Elizabeth.  How  sublime  you  were! 
But  I  will  not  be  behind  you.  I  too 
will  sacrifice  myself.  Elizabeth,  will 
you  marry  me  ? 

Elizabeth.  Yes. 

[Edward  falls  to  the  ground,  breaking 
the  umbrella. 

CUETAIN. 

Mistaken  Kindness. 

"We  also  trace  Missing  Friends,  Relatival 
or  Creditors  for  tho  same  initial  fees." 

Advt.  in  South  African  Paper. 


26.  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


159 


NO    REPLIES    NEEDED. 

'  NOTICING  a  revival  in  certain  of  his 
contemporaries  of  the  favourite  olc 
device  of  suggesting  scandal  by  ques- 
tion, Mr.  Punch,  who  hates  to  bo  out 
of  tho  movement,  has  arranged  with  a 
knowing  hand,  who  is  behind  most  oi 
the  scenes  and  is  always  on  tho  qm 
(hole)  viw,  to  provide  him  with  a 
similar  article.  May  it  have  much 
success  in  provoking  curiosity  not  un- 
mixed with  the  worst  suspicions  1 

OUB  ONE    IDEA   IS   TO   ASCERTAIN' — 

Whether  the  young  nobleman  who 
last  week  removed  a  silver- headed 
umbrella  from  the  club  at  which  he 
was  lunching  was  really  unaware  that 
it  was  not  his  own  ? 

And,  if  so,  how  it  was  that  it 
found  its  way  so  quickly  to  a  dealer 
in  secondhand  umbrellas  not  a  hun- 
dred miles  from  Tottenham  Court 
Eoad  ? 

How  long  it  will  bo  before  Her  Grace 
answers  the  letter  from  the  Eural  Dean, 
and  what  she  will  say  when  she  does  ? 

If  the  Duko  knows  ? 

And  why  he  sent  such  a  long  way 
for  a  money-order  last  week,  when  the 
village  post-office  is  only  just  by  the 
park  gates? 

When  the  subaltern  intends  to  re- 
cover from  the  severe  attack  of  influenza 
which  has  kept  him  in  town  so  long, 
and  return  to  his  regiment?  .• 

Who  was  responsible  for  San  Bonitos 
falling  two  points  one  morning  "last 
week  and  rising  six  in  the  same  after- 
noon ? 

And,  if  a  certain  pretty  little  lady  not 
unknown  to  the  stallites  of  a  West-End 
io«se.of  musical  comedy  profited  at 
all  by  the  transaction  ? 

And,  if  she  did,  whether  she  put  the 
money  into  another  sealskin  or  paid  off' 
a  part,  at  any  rate,  of  her  debt  to  a 
'amous  modtste  whoso  China  tea  seems 
,o  have  such  an  attraction  for  her 
:lients?  '. 

How  it  is  that  when  canard  d  la 
vressc  was  ordered  at  a  well-known 
restaurant  on  Sunday  evening  only 
)ne  party  was  served,  and  what  the 
Management  would  say  if  all  the  facts 
were  brought  to  their  notice  ? 

What  a  certain  peer  would  pay  to 
•enow  for  certain  that  these  facts  were 
lushed  up  for  ever  ? 

Who  is  responsible  for  the  story  now 
joing  the  rounds  concerning  a  well- 
known  Society  Beauty  and  the  Batter- 
sea  Dogs'  Home  ? 

Why  the  Naval  officer  did  not  hit  the 
nan  back  but  contented  himself  with 
wing  shaved  ? 

Why  so  many  young  men  of  fashion 

ve  been  up  the  Monument  of  late? 


V 


•7.  '•' 
MUTUAL    SUSPICION. 


THE  CLUE. 

(A  Walton  Heath  Eeflection.) 
TIME  was  wlien,  walking  in  the  street, 

Or  sitting  in, a. room, 
A  simple  sight  my  glance  would  greet 
And  chase  away  my  gloom. 

A  bit  of  bifurcated  wire 

That  thrilled  me  to  the  core 

And  fanned  a  flame  of  tender  fire — 
A  hairpin,  nothing  more. 

'.  fain  would  guess  what  plait  or  curl 

Had  cast  its  shackle  free, 
And  conjured  up  a  charming  girl, 

For  all  were  fair  to  me. 

But,  young  or  old  or  plain  or  fair, 

I  knew,  in  any  case, 
\  woman's  presence  had  been  there 

And  sanctified  the  place.. 


0  Dead  Sea  fruit  upon  the  bough  1 

0  false  and  perjured  promise  1 
When  I  espy  a  hairpin  now 

1  wonder  where  the  bomb  is. 


Whole -time  Occupations.     No.  1. 
"Is  THEKE  A  BABOMKTKU  IN  YOUR  HALL? 
Tho  daily  observation  of  a  Barometer  is  a 
serviceable,   interesting,   and    pleasure-giving 
occupation." 

Adi't.  in  "  Westminster  Gazette." 

All  the  same,  there  are  times  in  England 
when  the  observation  of  the  barometer 
is  not  really  very  exhilarating. 

"Thus  a  boy  working  at  carpentering  would 
be  interested  in  learning  about  the  different 
kinds  ol  words  he  employed." 

Educational  Review. 

For  instance,  when  the  chisel  slipped 
suddenly,  you  would  tell  him  that  the 
word  he  employed  was  derived  from  a- 
small  Indian  coin. 


160 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBBUABY  26,  1913. 


WINTER   SPORT. 

IV.— THOMAS,  AND  A  TURN. 

MYRA  finished  her  orange,  dried  her 
hands  daintily  on  my  handkerchief  and 
spoke  her  mind. 

"This  is  the  third  time,"  she  said, 
"that  Thomas  has  given  us  the  slip. 
If  he  gets  engaged  to  that  girl  in  red  I 
shall  cry." 

"There  are,"  I  said,  idly  throwing  a 
crust  at  Simpson  and  missing  him, 
"  engagements  and  Swiss  engagements 
— just  as  there  are  measles  and  German 
measles.  It  is  well  known  that  Swiss 
engagements  don't  count." 

"  We  got  engaged  in  Kent.  A  bit  of 
luck." 

"  I  have  nothing  against  Miss 
Aylwyn,"  I  went  on — 

"  Except  the  way  she  does  her  hair." 

"  — but  she  doesn't  strike  me  as  being 
the  essential  Babbit.  We  cannot  admit 
her  to  the — er — fold." 

"  The  covey,"  suggested  Myra. 
The    warren.     Anyhow,    she 


Simpson,  for  goodness'  sake  stop  fooling 
about  with  your  bearded  friend  and 
tell  us  what  you  think  of  it  all." 

We  were  finishing  lunch  in  the  lee 
of  a  little  chalet,  high  above  the  hotel, 
and  Simpson  had  picked  up  an  acquaint- 
ance with  a  goat,  which  he  was  appar- 
ently, trying  to  conciliate  with  a  piece 
of  chocolate.  The  goat,  however, 
seemed  to  want  a  piece  of  Simpson. 

"  My  dear  old  chap,  he  won't  go 
away.  Here — shoo!  shoo!  I  wish  I 
knew  what  his  name  was." 

"Ernest,"  said  Myra. 

"  I  can't  think  why  you  ever  got  into 
such  a  hirsute  set,  Simpson.  He  prob- 
ably wants  your  compass.  -Give  it  to 
him  and  let  him  --withdraw." 

Era«et,*having'decrded  that  Simpson 
was  net  worth  knowing,  withdrew,  and 
we  resumed  our  conversation. 

"  When  -we  elderly  married  folk  have 
retired,"  I  went  on,  "and  you  gay  young 
bachelors  ^sit  up  over  a  last  cigar  to 
discuss  your  conquests,  has  not  Thomas 
unbent  to  you,  Samuel,  and  told  you  of 
his  hopes  and  fears  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  last  night  he  was  afraid 
he  was  going  bald,  and  he  said  he 
hoped  he  wasn't." 

"That's  a  bad  sign,"  said  Myra. 
"  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  said  I  thought  he  was." 

With  some  difficulty  I. got  up  from 
my  seat  in  the  snow  and  buckled  on 
my  skis. 

"  Come  on,  let 's  forget  Thomas  for  a. 
bit.  Samuel  is  now  going  to  show  us 
the  Christiania  Turn." 

Simpson,  all  eagerness,  began  to  pre- 
pare himself. 

"I  said  I  would,  didn't  I?  I  was 
doing  it  quite  well  yesterday.  This  is 


a  perfect  little  slope  for  it.  You  under- 
stand the  theory  of  it,  don't  you? " 

"  We  hope  to  after  the  exhibition." 

"  Well,  the  great  thing  is  to  lean  the 
opposite  way  to  the  way  you  think  you 
ought  to  lean.  That's  what's  so  diffi- 
cult." i 

"You  understand,  Myra?  Samuel 
will  lean  the  opposite  way  to  what  he 
thinks  he  ought  to  lean.  Tell  Ernest." 

"  But  suppose  you  think  you  ought 
to  lean  the  proper  way,  the  way ,  they 
do  in  Christiania,"  said  Myra,  "  and 
you  lean  the  opposite  way,  then  what 
happens  ? " 

"  That  is  what  Samuel  will  probably 
show  us,"  I  said. 

Simpson  was  now  ready. 

"I  am  going  to  turn  to  the  left,"  he 
said.  "  Watch  carefully.  Of  course  I 
may  not  bring  it  off  the  first  time." 

"I  can't  help  thinking  you  will," 
said  Myra. 

"  It  depends  what  you  call  bringing 
it  off,"  I  said.  "  We  have  every  hope 
of — I  mean  we  don't  think  our  money 
will  be  wasted.  Have  you  got  the 
opera-glasses  and  the  peppermints  and 
the  programme,  darling  ?  Then  you 
may  begin,  Samuel." 

Simpson  started  down  the  slope  a 
little  unsteadily.  For  one  moment  I 
feared  that  there  might  be  an  accident 
before  the  real  accident,  but  he  re- 
covered himself  nobly  and  sped  to  the 
bottom.  Then  a  cloud  of  snow  shot 
up,  and  for  quite  a  long  time  there  was 
no  Simpson. 

"  I  knew  he  wouldn't  disappoint  us," . 
gurgled  Myra. 

We  slid  down  to  him  and  helped 
him  up. 

"  You  see  the  idea,"  he  said.  "  I  'm 
afraid  I  spoilt  it  a  little  at  that  end, 
but " 

"My  dear  Samuel,  you  improved  it 
out  of  all  knowledge." 

"  But  that  actually  is  the  Christiania 
Turn." 

"  Oh,  why  don't  we  live  in  Christi- 
ania ? "  exclaimed  Myra  to  me. 
"  Couldn't  we  possibly  afford  it  ?  " 

"  It  must  be  a  happy  town,"  I  agreed. 
"  How  the  old  streets  must  ring  and 
ring  again  with  jovial  laughter." 

"  Shall  I  do  it  once  more  ?  " 

"  Can  you  ?  "  said  Myra,  clasping  her 
hands  eagerly. 

"Wait  here,"  said  Samuel,  "  and  I  '11 
do  it  quite  close  to  you." 

Myra  unstrapped  her  camera. 

Half-an-hour  later,  with  several 
excellent  films  of  the  scene  of  the  catas- 
trophe, we  started  for  home.  It  was 
more  than  a  little  steep,  but  the  run 
down  was  accomplished  without  any 
serious  trouble.  Simpson  went  first 
to  discover  any  hidden  ditches  (and  to 
his  credit  be  it  said  that  he  invariably 


discovered  them) ;  Myra,  in  the  position 
of  safety  in  the  middle,  profited  by 
Samuel's  frequent  object-lessons ;  while 
I,  at  the  back,  was  ready  to  help  Myra 
up,  if  need  arose,  or  to  repel  any 
avalanche  which  descended  on  us  from 
above.  On  the  level  snow  at  the  bottom 
we  became  more  companionable. 

"  We  still  haven't  settled  the  great 
Thomas  question,"  said  Myra.  "  What 
about  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Why  bother  about  to-morrow  ? 
Carpe  diem.  Latin." 

"  But  the  great  tailing  expedition  is 
for  to-morrow.  The  horses  are  ordered ; 
everything  is  prepared.  Only  one  thing 
remains  to  settle.  Shall  we  have  with 
us  a  grumpy  but  Aylwynless  Thomas, 
or  shall  we  let  him  bring  her  and  spoil 
the  party  ?  " 

"  She  can't  spoil  the  party.  I  'm  here 
to  enjoy  myself,  and  all  Thomas's 
fiancies  can't  stop  me.  Let 's  have 
Thomas  happy,  anyway." 

"  She  's  really  quite  a  nice  girl,"  said 
Simpson.  "  I  danced  with  her  once." 

"  Eight  O,  then.  I  '11  tell  Dahlia  to 
invite  her." 

We  hurried  on  to  the  hotel ;  but  as 
we    passed    the    rink    the    President 
stopped  me  for  a  chat.     He  wanted  me 
to   recite   at   a  concert   that   evening. 
Basely  deserted  by  Myra  and  Samuel, 
I  told  him  that  I  did  not  recite ;  and 
I  took  the  opportunity  of  adding  that 
personally  I  didn't  think  anybody  els 
ought  to.     I  had  just  persuaded  him  to.' 
my   point    of    view   when    I    noticed' 
Thomas  cutting  remarkable  figures  on 
the  ice.      Ho   picked  himself   up  and' 
skated  to  the  side. 

"Hallo!"  he  said.  "Had  a  good' 
day  ?  " 

"Splendid.  What  have  you  been: 
doing?" 

"  Oh— skating." 

"  I  say,  about  this  tailing  expedition! 
to-morrow ' ' 

"Er — yes,  I  was  just  going  to  talk 
about  that." 

"  Well,  it 's  all  right.  Myra  is  getting: 
Dahlia  to  ask  her  to  come  with  us." 

"  Good!  "  said  Thomas,  brightening 
up. 

"  You  see,  we  shall  only  be  seven, 
even  with  Miss  Aylwyn,  and — 

"  Miss  Aylwyn  ?  "  said  Thomas  in  a 
hollow  voice. 

"  Yes,  isn't  that  the  name  of  your 
friend  in  red?  " 

"  Oh,  that  one.  Oh,  but  that 's  quite 
—I  mean,"  he  went  on  hurriedly, 
"  Miss  Aylwyn  is  probably  booked  up 
for  to-morrow.  It 's  Miss  Cardew  whq 
is  so  keen  on  tailing.  That  girl  in' 
green,  you  know." 

For  a  moment  I  stared  at  him 
blankly.  Then  I  left  him  and  dashed 
after  Myra.  A.  A.  M. ' 


FEBRUARY  2G,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


161 


OXFOED   INTELLIGENCE. 

(With  acknowledgments  to  the  scholarly 
sleuth-hounds  of  some  of  our 
,        contemporaries.) 

IT  was  noticed  that  at  the  Torpids 
the  young  PRINCE  OF  WALES,  who  is,  our 
readers  may  remember,  an  undergrad- 
uate of  Magdalen,  cheered  his  College 
boat's  progress  with  enthusiasm.  "  Well 
rowed,  Magdalen ! "  he  was  heard  to 
shout  several  times,  pronouncing  Mag- 
dalen not,  of  course,  as  it  is  spelt,  but 
thus,  Maud-lin.  This  not  only  shows 
that  he  has  assimilated  the  tradi- 
tions of  his  University,  but  it  has 
had  the  effect  of  endearing  him  to  his 
playmates.  Another  and  gratifying 
proof  that  the  PRINCE  is  a  true  Oxonian 
at  heart  is  to  be  found  in  his  religious 
observation  of  the  unwritten  law  that 
one  must  never  refer  to  New  College  as 
New  tout  court,  but  always  as  New 
College.  This  local  subtlety  he  has 
mastered,  much  to  the  gratification  of 
his  young  companions  and  tutors. 

Curiosity  runs  high  as  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  political  instruction  given 
by  Sir  WILLIAM  ANSON,  the  Warden  of 
All  Souls,  to  our  future  ruler ;  and  the 
outer  keyhole  of  the  sanctum  in  which 
the  lessons  are  held  is  said  to  be  highly 
polished  by  inquisitive  ears.  Nothing 
has,  however,  yet  leaked  out,  but  I  am 
in  a  position  to  announce  that  up  to 
the  present  time  no  emphatic  com- 
mendation of  either  Eadicalism  or 
Socialism  has  been  made  by  the  illus- 
trious pupil's  mentor.  This  may  be 
taken  as  authentic.  The  PRINCE'S 
lightness  of  step  and  general  buoyancy 
of  manner  on  leaving  the  sanctum  have 
much  added  to  his  popularity. 

CONSUMMATION. 

IT  is  strange  that  in  my  day-dreams 
I  have  so  often  pictured  myself  in  the 
Law  Courts.  There  is  that  scene  when 
t  am  the  principal  witness  for  the 
defence.  ,  ,  . 

"  And  now,  Sir,  what  is  the  name  of 
the  lady  who  was  with  you  on  the 
morning  of  the  16th  ?  " 

"  I  decline  to  answer  that  question." 
(Sensation.) 

"  Come,  Sir,  I  must  insist  upon  an 
answer." 

"I  decline  to  answer  your  question." 
I  draw  myself  up  and  blow  my  nose. 
(Eenewed  sensation.) 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Smith,"  says  the 
Judge  kindly,  "that  you  are  doing 
yourself  no  good  by  taking  up  this 
attitude." 

"I  am  sorry,  me  lud,  but  I  must 
still  decline  to  answer  the  question." 
(Applause  in  court,  which  is  instantly 
suppressed.) 


Mistress.  "WHAT  is  THIS  ABOUT  THE  NEW  GROOM  AND  HIS  INSURANCE?" 

Butler.  "WELL,    MY   LADY,   IT   SEEMS    m    HIS   LAST   SITUATION   THE   LADY   PAID    HIS 

STAMP,  AND  WHEN  I  TOLD  HIM  YOUR  LADYSHIP  INSISTED  THAT  THE  SERVANTS  SHOULD 
EACH  PAY  THEIR  CONTRIBUTION,  HE  SAID — IP  YOU  'LL  EXCUSE  ME,  MY  LADY—'  HE  'D  BB 
SLOWED  IF  HE  DID,'  FOR  THAT  'S  THE  SORT  OF  LANGUAGE,  MY  LADY,  THE  LOWER  CLASSES 

TVf  T>T  f\V     *  * 


EMPLOY. 


And,  far  away,  the  lady  next  morning 
reads  through  seven  and  a-half  columns 
of  description,  and  murmurs  passion- 
ately, "  My  hero !  " 

Or,  again,  it  is  the  most  amazing 
Murder  case  of  the  century.  I  am  in 
the  dock,  calm  and  imperturbable, 
while  the  grim  chain  of  circumstantial 
evidence  is  fitted  together  link  by  link. 
One  word  from  me  and  it  would  fall  to 
pieces,  but  that  word  cannot  honour- 
ably be  spoken. 

At  last  it  is  all  over.  The  voice  of 
the  foreman  of  the  jury  is  unhesitating 
as  he  pronounces  the  awful  word, 
"  Guilty !  "  The  face  of  the  Judge  is 
stern  as  he  assumes  the  black  cap.  .  .  . 

"Stop!"  A  figure  bursts  into  tho 
court.  "  In  the  King's  name,  stop  !  " 

An  hour  later  volleys  of  cheering  ring 


through  the  crowded  court  as  the 
venerable  Judge,  his  voice  shaken  with 
emotion,  says,  "England  to-day  is 
proud  of  you,  Mr.  Smith." 

Yes,  it  is  certainly  strange  to  recall 
the  day-dreams  in  which  I  have  been 
associated  with  the  Law  now  that  the 
real  thing  has  come,  now  that  I  am  to 
appear  in  the  courts  in  very  fact. 

Still,  it  is  hardly  what  I  expected, 
this  summons  for  driving  a  motor-cycle 
without  a  licence. 


"  The  thousand-foot  ship  is  coming,  and  if 
New  York  is  going  to  be  so  ostrich-like  as  to 
give  it  a  left-handed  welcome,  New  York  must 
be  prepared  to  drop  out  of  the  running." 

World's  Work. 

All  the  ostriches  we  know  are  right- 
handed. 


Bookseller  (having  taken  an  order  for  notcpaper).  "  HAVE  YOU  BEAD  PEBBLES,  SIB?    HAD  A  YTONDEKFUL  SALE. 

The  Author  of  "  Pebbles."  "HAS  IT?    I  THINK  I  COULD  WRITE  AS  GOOD  A  BOOK  MYSELF."  ^ 

Bookseller  (always  prepared  to  agree  with  a  customer).  "  Do  YOU?    WELL,  I  BEALLY  BELIEVE  ouu  BOY  COULD.  S 


SAVED ! 

(An  Heroic  Episode  in  Artificial  Water.) 
NOT  from  the  high  bank  of  the  turbid  river, 

Watched  by  a  pale-faced  crowd  that  filled  the  street, 
Flinging  his  coat  off,  leaped  he  to  deliver 
The  bantling  ;  yet  his  name  to  me  is  sweet, 
Or  would  be  if  I  knew  it,  and  superb 
As  the  soft  fragrance  that  our  steps  disturb, 
At  night-time,  of  a  lowly-flowering  herb — 
And  Herb  perhaps  it  is.    Ah  well.  -  Now  hear  his  feat. 

The  place  was  Kew,  the  time  about  4.30. 

You  know  the  tiny  tarn  where  keeps  the  coot  ? 
Five  days  of  fog  had  made  it  beastly  dirty, 
And  there  before  our  eyes  a  navy  suit 

Suddenly  splashing  !     Deuce  alone  knows  why 
The  little  fool  flopped  in.    Just  to  be  dry 
When  there  is  darkly  stagnant  water  nigh 
To  some  kids  seems  a  crime.    His  mother  heard  the  bruit, 

And  shrieked.     No  melodrama's  blood  and  thunder 

Ever  came  up  to  that  distressful  shout ; 
The  infant,  frightened  by  the  noise,  went  under, 

Popped  up  again.  .  .  .  More  swift  than  a  boy  scoub 
The  man,  the  Paladin,  for  whom  I  sweep 
The  sounding  strings,  the  rescuer,  made  his  leap 
In  water  something  less  than  three  foot  deep 
And  hauled  the  young  rapscallion,  happily  smiling,  out. 


For  him,  the  hero,  was  no  crowd  of  gapers, 

No  cries  of  "encore "  as  he  issued  wet ; 
No  interview  with  all  the  evening  papers, . 
No  map  with,  cross,  no  photographs  inset, 

No  glory,  no  renown  :  but  ah !  what  pain,  ^ 
The  long  chill  journey  home  by  District  train, 
The  muffled  murmur,  "  Paddling  !     He  's  insane  ! ' 
Sorrow  for  clothes  fordone  and  spats  that  need  a  vet. 

Him  then,  ye  Naiads,  sing !    Ah,  be  not  idle, 
Trumpet  his  fame  with  conch  and  well-puffed 

cheeks,  '    • 
Ye  watery  gods,  ye  spirits  of  rivers  tidal, 
Oceans  and  ornamental  ponds  and  creeks — 
Who  not  for  honour,  not  for  fame  or  pelf, 
Scarce  knowing  if,  in  fact,  the  bright-haired  elf 
Could  or  could  not  have  scrambled  out  himself, 
Plunged  in  and  spoilt  his  boots  and  spoilt  his  Sunday 
4    breeksl  '  • 

I,  anyhow,  the  deep  harmonium's  pedal 

Press  to  his  fame — the  clashing  cymbals  burst ; 
Would  I  might  dower  him  with  a  pewter  medal 
For  salvage  of  the  partially  immersed  ; 

For  I,  too,  hastened  to  the  water's  brim, 
I  also  ran,  my  suit  was  also  trim, 
I  should  have  had  to  save  that  "  pesky  limb," 
Only  (all  praise  to  Zeusl)  he  won — he  got  there  first. 

BVOE. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI  —  FEBRUABY  2G,  1913. 


THE    BLESSINGS    OF    PEACE. 

HANS  AND  JACQUES  (together).  "AND    I    HEAE    THEEE 'S    MORE    TO    COME!" 


FEBBUAKY  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


165 


EXTRAORDINARY  BEHAVIOUR  OP  A   COUNTRY  POLICEMAN  AFTER  A  DAY'S  VISIT  TO  LONDON. 


INSUEANCE  AGAINST  SUFFKAGETTES. 

UNDEUWEITERS  at  Lloyd's  aro  now  open  to  insure  golf 
courses  against  damage  by  Suffragettes.  The  premium  is 
equivalent  to  2  per  cent.,  the  rate  being  quoted  for  all 
eighteen  holes  at  £1  each  for  twelve  months,  underwriters 
to  pay  any  claims  for  damage  to  each  green  up  to  £50. 

We  think,  in  view  of  certain  recent  exploits,  that  some 
further  quotations  will  soon  be  upon  the  market.  In  fact,  the 
risks  are  already  being  worked  out  by  an  enterprising  firm  of 
actuaries,  and  are  stated,  in  all  confidence,  as  hereunder : — 

PKEMIUMS  TO  BE  PAID  ON  THE  FOLLOWING  SPORTING 
CONTINGENCIES  : 

By  Police  Magistrate,  against  being  Hit  by 
Book  or  other  Missile  from  the  Hand  of 
Young  Woman  in  court,  on  being  Charged 
and  in  Cold  Blood 6d.  per  £100 

Do.,  do.,  after  Sentence  and  in  a  Temper  .     .   Qd.  per  £100 

By  Directors  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  against 
Bomb,  Dorothy  Bag  or  Flat-iron  being 
dropped  from  Militant  Aeroplane  ....  Is.  per  £100 

By  Hungerstriker,  against  being  allowed  to 
observe  Lent  by  weak-kneed  Authorities  .  £  per  cent. 

By  the  W.  S.  P.  U.  and  similar  Societies, 
against  the  Tables  being  turned,  some  Fine 
Day  in  the  Near  Future,  on  their  Own 
Premises 90  per  cent. 

By  Political  Martyr,  about  to  Light  a  Candle 
in  England  that  all  the  Power  of  the  PRIME 
MINISTER  may  not  Put  Out  (otherwise,  to 
set  Fire  to  another  Refreshment  Kiosk), 
against  being  played  upon  by  the  Fire  Hose 
or  extinguished  in  the  nearest  Lake  ...  95  per  cent. 


By  the  Leaders  of  the  Movement  against  the 
Man  in  the  Street  shortly  taking  the  Law 
into  his  own  Hands  with  the  nearest  Tar- 
barrel  and  Feather-bag 99  per  cent. 

By  the  Man  in  the  Street  against  the  Leaders 
of  the  Movement  being  taken  seriously  and 
getting  what  they  want  as  long  as  they 

behave  like  Spoiled  Children 1  per  cent. 

ZIG-ZAG. 

A  LANG  TRYST. 

GIN  ony  decent  lad  is  seekin'  for  a  lass  o'  sense, 

And  no'  a  giggling  piece  wi'  tousie  hair, 
He  micht  cry  in  at  the  Smiddy  yett,  and  ask  for 
Bessie  Spence — 

I  've  been  waiting  there  this  thretty  year — an'  mair. 

It 's  no'  tae  be  expeckit  he  '11  be  unco  graun'  or  gret ; 

I  doot  he  winna  be  a  millionaire ; 
A  woman  at  ma  time  o'  life  maun  tak  what  she  can  get, 

And,  as  I  said,  I  'm  thretty  year — an'  mair. 

I  winna  say,  fair  hornie,  that  I  hae  a  bonny  face, 
I  've  heard  folk  ca  't  a  wee  the  waur  o'  wear, 

And  it 's  maybe  na'  juist  perfect ;  but  ma  hert  's  in  the 

richt  place, 
Juist  as  it 's  been  this  thretty  year — an'  mair. 


"BLUSHES  FOR  WOMEN 
KTOXIAN'S  DEMAND  FOR  THE  MODERN  GIRL." 

Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

Any  time  Etonian  cares  to  look  in  just  now,  he  will  find  us 
blushing  for  women. 


166 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[FEBEUAKY  26,  1913. 


THE    WATER    RIGHT. 

WHEN  I  settled  my  house  on  my 
wife  under  a  pre-nuptial  contract,  I 
forgot  to  specify,  among  ita  many 
attractions,  the  water  supply,  for  which 
I  was  indebted  to  the  neighbouring 
landowner.  Later  OQ  one  of  tho 
Trustees — a  lawyer — found  that  out. 
That  is  tho  whole  plot,  and  the  story 
begins  in  the  middle. 

Letter  No.  IX.  (lie  to  me.) 

Despite  the  arguments  advanced  in 
yours  of  the  17th  inst.,  I  feel  it  to  bo 
my  duty  to  demand  the  conveyance  to 
tho  Trustees  of  the  water  right  con- 
nected with  Skew  Brig  House.  If  you 
will  favour  me  with  your  acquiescence 
in  this  suggestion,  I , — 
shall  be  happy  to  have 
the  papers  prepared  at 
once. 

X.  (I  to  him.) 

Eeally,  I  don't  quite 
see  ft.  My  own  lawyer 
assures  me  that  such 
a  step  would  be  (1)  in- 
tolerably expensive  and 
(2)  entirely  uncalled  for. 
You  see,  tho  valuation 
of  the  properly  given 
without  the  water  right 
—£2,400— was  enor- 
mously below  what  it 
would  fetch  at  any  time 
in  tho  open  market.  I 
am  told  that"  the  view 
from  tho  front  -  door 
alone  is  worth  all  that. 
Which  being  so,  I  think 
the  Trustees  are  pretty 
snug  as  they  are.  I 


trying  to  get  at.  The  bally  thing  is  oi 
no  value  except  in  con-unction  with  the 
house.  So  what  can  happen  ?  If  I  give 
it  away  to  someone  else,  trade  it,  sell, 
mortgage,  barter,  assign  or  leave  it  in 
my  will,  what  on  earth  can  the  other 
Johnny  do  with  it  as  long  as  tho  house 
doesn't  belong  to  him  ?  Don't  you  see 
how  silly  you  are  ?  He  can't  use  it, 
eat  it,  hang  it  on  his  watch-chain  or 
stow  it  away  in  his  conservatory.  Any 
fool  could  sea  it  belongs  to  the  house. 
Better  chuck  the  whole  thing,  don't 
you  think  ? 

XV.  (He  to  me.) 

I  feel  bound  to  protest  against  the 
whole  tone  and  tenor  of  your  last  letter. 
Tho  argument  is  also  quite  irrelevant. 


13th,  1911.  There  you  say,  "  Although 
the  valuation— £2,400— is  undoubtedly 
a  high  one,  I  do  not  think  it  too  high, 
as  you  must  remember  it  includes"  a 
water  right,  worth  fully  £200." 

XVIII.  (I  to  him.) 
All  right,  I  admit  you  have  mo  there. 
I  had  forgotten  ever  writing  that.  It  'a 
a  fair  score  for  you.  Still  you  must 
bear  in  mind  that  that  was  written 
about  ten  days  before  I  was  married,  at 


will  be  glad  if  you  can 
see  your  way  to  let. the 
matter  diop. 

XL  (He  to  me.) 
_  We  have  given  the  most  careful  con- 
sideration to  yours  of  the  21st,  and  we 
are  not  convinced.  You  must  reflect 
that  the  house  without  the  water  right 
would  be  of  very  little  value. 

XII.  (I  to  him.) 
That   is   all  very  fine.      But   what 
about   the    water    right    without    the 
house  ? 

XIII.  (He  to  me.) 

I  do  not  understand  your  last  letter 
at  all.  The  water  right  is  of  value  as 
belonging  to  the  house — of  great  value  ; 
and  therefore  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
advise  my  Co-trustees  to  insist  upon 
securing  it. 

XIV.  (I  to  him.) 
Exactly.     That  is  just  what 


HORRIBLE  POSITION  OF  JONES  WHO,  AFTEB  WITNESSING  THE  WORST  PLAY  HE 
HAS  EVEB  SEEN,  COMES  OUT  A  LITTLE  BEFOBE  THE  FINISH.  AND  DISCOVERS  HIS 
TAXI,  FOB  WHICH  HE  HAD  FORGOTTEN  TO  PAT,  AWAITING  HIM. 


am 


Should  you  dispose  of  tho  water  right 
in  question,  the  owner  of  it,  even  if 
unable  to  use  it  himself,  could  take 
steps  to  prevent  anyone  else  from 
making  use  of  his  prop'erty. 

XVI.  (I  to  him.) 

But  surely  he  wouldn't  be  such  a 
rotten  sportsman  as  that.  I  mean  to 
say  what  a  confoundedly  dog-in-the- 
mangerish  thing  to  do !  Hang  it  all.' 
I  feel  bounu  to  protest  against  the 
whole  tone  and  tenor  of  your  letter. 
Do  you  moan  to  imply  that  I  would 
ever  think  of  leaving  a  water  right  or 
any  other  thing  to  a  chap  that  would 
behave  like  that  ?  I  absolutely  decline 
to  take  any  steps  whatever  in  the 
matter. 

XVII.  (He  to  me.) 

It  will  perhaps  help  to  shorten  this 
controversy  if  1  quote  from  your  letter, 
now  in  my  possession,  of  September 


a  time  when  a  chap  is  hardly  respon- 
sible. Is  it  quite  sporting  under  the 
circumstances  to  take  advantage  of  it,' 
do  you  think? 

XIX.  (He  to  me.) 

I  have  great  pleasure  in  acknowledg- 
ing your  last  letter, 
which  I  understand  as 
giving  me  virtual  per- 
mission to  proceed  with 
the  conveyance  of  the 
Skew  Brig  water  right. 

XX.  (I  to  him.) 

Stop  a  bit.  There's 
no  virtual  permission 
in  the  matter.  I  've 
been  thinking  it  all  over 
again,  and  my  wife  anJ 
1  havo  deci.ied,  as  a 
protest  against  the 
Scottish  Temperance 
Bill,  to  give  up  the  use 
of  water  in  our  house 
and  have  it  turned  off 
So  there  the  matter 
ends.  Jolly  weather, 
isn't  it  ?  Is  it  true  you 
are  going  off  to  Norway; 
for  September? 
[His  reply  omitted.] 

XXI.  (I  to  him.) 
I  dare  say  you  are  right.  We  shall, 
still  require  a  certain  amount  for. 
washing  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.) 
But  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  long  drought; 
has  happily  solved  the  problem  for  us.j 
There  is  no  water.  So  why  worry  about! 
it  ?  Non  cst,  my  dear  Sir,  non  est.  I 
hope  you  will  have  a  jolly  time  in 
Brittany. 

[His  reply  omitted.] 
XXII.  (I  to  him) 

I  cannot,  my  good  fellow,  get  up  the1 
slightest  interest  in  a  mythical  water 
supply.  There  will  be  time  enough  to 
convey  it  when  it  begins  to  run.  Hope 
you  will  have  a  good  crossing  to  the 
Hook. 

[Several  of  his  letters  omitted.] 
XXIII.  (I  to  him — Telegram.) 
Rain   at   last.     Water   reappearing^ 
By  all  means  convey.     Bather  muddy! 
so  far,  but  plumber  thinks  it  will  clear! 


FEBRUARY 

26, 

1913.] 

PUNCH, 

OR 

THE 

LONDON 

CHARIVARI. 

167      | 

Proprietor.  " NOT  QUITE  THE  FINO,  AIN'T  IT?    WELL,  IT'S  NOT  MUCH  OP  A  TAXI-BIDE  TO  THE  EITZ;   TRY  A  KIPPER  THERE." 


THE   SPECTEE. 

(Mr.  Punch's  solemn  Warning  to  the 
latest  Type  of  Malefactors.) 

MIDNIGHT,  and  the  tide  was  almost 
full.  The  wind  had  long  ago  fallen, 
and  the  sea  made  hardly  a  ripple  as  it 
crept  up  the  ghostly  sands.  The  moon's 
image  was  a  great  splendour  on  the 
waters,  and  all  the  white  pebbles  on 
the  beach  were  clear.  Beyond  it,  be- 
tween wave  and  tilth,  the  hallowed 
enclosure  lay  very  still.  Not  a  whisper 
stirred  the  dark-green  mounds  that 
were  tended  with  so  much  loving  care, 
the  mute  memorials  of  so  much  toil  of 
men,  such  high  and  ardent  rivalries,  so 
many  of  life's  fitful  fevers,  long  past 
and  done. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  great  stir  and 
crackle  in  the  briar  hedge  between  the 
foreshore  and  the  fields,  and  the  face  of 
a  woman  showed  ghastly  white  as  it 
looked  through  on  the  seaward  side. 
She  crawled  out  laboriously  and  found 
herself  upon  a  patch  of  level  sward. 
Then  the  moonlight  flashed  on  a  metal 
instrument  that  she  held  in  her  hand 
and  made  her  awful  purpose  onlv  too 
clear.  She  was  about  to  cut  the  sods 
in  that  silent  place,  to  desecrate  the 
earth  where  Famo  had  decreed  that  so 


many  of  her  noblest  sons  should  lie 
dead.  Madness  goaded  her  on.  "What 
was  it  to  her  if  she  shattered  the  most 
sacred  traditions,  links  with  a  famous 
past,  links  that  united  a  father's  and  a 
husband's  love?  The  hazards  were 
nothing  to  her.  Here  and  now  the 
deed  should  be  done.  She  knelt  down, 
but  suddenly,  as  if  moved  by  some 
irresistible  impulse,  before  she  began 
her  work,  looked  up  and  round  about 
her. 

Was  that  only  a  Will-o'-the-wisp 
that  flickered  on  the  swampy  ground  to 
her  right,  or  was  it  something  else? 
No  marsh  fire,  surely,  moved  so  steadily, 
so  purposefully,  nor  ever  gleamed  so 
large.  Surely  it  was  a  figure,  but  as 
surely  not  the  figure  of  a  mortal  man. 
Now  as  it  came  nearer,  luminous, 
terrible,  she  could  swear  that  she  saw  a 
face — a  face  with  fixed  and  glassy  eyes 
that  looked  ever  before  them,  not  at 
her — this  crowned  the  horror — but  at 
something  unseen,  something  on  the 
ground  at  her  feet.  Resolute  as  a 
warrior  going  to  battle,  it  came  on  and 
on.  And  what  was  this  again  that  it 
seemed  to  brandish  in  one  hand— a 
weapon,  surely,  as  bright  as  her  own ; 
and  what  was  that  which  it  bore  upon 
its  back  ?  A  bundle  or  a  swathed  body  ? 


For  some  moments  she  remained 
there  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot,  bound 
fast  in  a  paroxysm  of  fear.  Then  with 
a  great  effort  she  rose,  shrieked  wildly, 
dropped  her  sacrilegious  tool,  and  fled, 
fled  fast  as  her  feet  could  carry  her,  till 
she  found  a  gate,  scrambled  over  it  she 
knew  not  how,  and  fell  a  huddled  heap 
on  the  roadway. 


They  found  the  trowel  in  the  morning 
lying  where  she  left  it,  in  the  bunker 
that  guards  the  thirteenth  green. 

"  One  o'  them  Suffrygettes,"  said  the 
groundsman  to  his  acolyte.  "  For- 
chernately  she  don't  seem  to  have  cut 
the  turf  anywhere." 

"Frightened  by  Bogey,  very  like," 
answered  the  boy. 

•—  — ' 

"  Will  winners  of  Third  Prizes  write,  stating 
the  books  they  desire  to  desire?  " 

T.P.'s  Weekly. 

We  desire  to  desire  MILTON,  CERVANTES 
or  MONTAIGNE  ;  but  the  flesh  is  weak, 
and  so,  against  our  desire,  we  desire 
The  Rosary  of  Mrs.  BARCLAY. 

From  a  poster : — 
"  THE  PIUNCE  OP  WALES  AND  His  BRIDE. 

WHO  WILL  BHE   BE?" 

The  PRINCESS  OP  WALES.     (Too  easy.) 


163 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


20,  1913. 


THE   VISITOR. 

THE  girl  who  helped  in  the  opposite  flat  was  again 
addressing  the  porter  on  the  landing  outside: — 

"There's  lots  o'  queer  things  'appens  to  people  in 
London,  and  some  on  'em  takes  you  quite  sudden  like— 
comes  on  you  all  of  a  nonplush,  as  tho  saying  is.  Yester- 
day evening  mother  was  worryin'  'er  'ead  about  the  tea. 
Father  'ad  bin  fractious  over  'is  tea  lately ;  said  'e  was  tired 
of  hacon  and  egg*  and  if  mother  couldn't  do  'im  a  pmlick 
Vd  'ave  to  take  'is  custom  somewhere  else.  Omlicks  is 
tasty— I  don't  say  they  're  not — but  they  're  the  difficultest 
tilings  in  tho  world,  and  it  you  don't  keep  a  light  'and  on 
'em  they  come  out  on  you  like  a  piece  o'  shoe-leather,  and 
then  where  are  you?  You  couldn't  deceive  father  with  any 
o'  that  sort.  'E  says  'e 's  a— I  can't  rightly  remember  the 
W3rd — something  'e  picked  up  from  Uncle  Bill — no,  not 
efficure — gorrnong's  the  word-;  it's  German  for  wanting 
your  wittles  good. 

"  Well,  mother  and  I  was  planning  about  this  'ere  omlick, 
and  I  was  chopping  up  parsley  and  mother  was  wondering 
if  she  'd  got  to  put  a  taste  of  onion  into  it,  father  being  a 
rare  one  for  onions — mother  says  'e  'd  'ave  onions  in  'is 
plum-pudding  if  she  give  'im  the  chaunce — when  there 
come  a  knock  on  our  front-door  and  mother  says,  '  Sally,' 
she  says, '  go  and  see  'oo  it  is,  and  if  it 's  Mrs.  Wortle  you 
can  tell  'er  we  've  got  no  more  sugar  to  spare.  She 's 
always  runnin'  short  o'  sugar.'  But  before  I  could  git  out, 
the  door  of  the  kitchen  opens  and  a  lady  steps  in.  She 
was  a  real  lady  and  no  mistake — 'at  and  feathers,  and  fur 
all  over  'er  and  gold  chains  dangling,  and  pretty  pointy 
shoes,  and  scents  and  perfooms.  You  couldn't  'a'  smelt  the. 
old  onion,  not  if  you  'd  tried  ever  so,  all  the  time  she  was  in 
the  kitchen. 

" '  Is  this  Mrs.  Nottidge  ? '  says  the  lady. 

" '  Yes,  mum,  that 's  me,'  says  mother.  '  'Oo  'ave  I  the 
pleasure?  '  she  says  in  'er  grand  way.  '  But  p'raps  you'll 
set  down.  'Ere,  Sally,  dust  a  chair  for  the  lady.  We  ain't 
got  much,  mum,  so  we've  got  to  make  the  best  o'  what 
we  've  got.' 

"  '  Ah,'  says  the  lady,  sottin*  down, '  that 's  very  interesting, 
'ighly  interesting,  that  is.  My  name  is  Robertson. ' 

"  '  Oh,  indeed,'  says  mother.  '  There  was  some  Robertsons 
lived  in  this  street  once.  I  've  often  wondered  what  become 
of  them.' 

"  'Oh,  no,'  says  the  lady,  'not  thorn  Robertsons,  oh  dear 
no.  A  different  fam'ly  altogether.  I  'm  a  member  of  the 
Society  for  Aiding  the  Deserving  Pore,  and  I  thought  p'raps 
you  could  give  me  information.' 

"  '  Well,  mum,'  says  mother,  '  you  can  take  a  look  round. 
We're  pore  enough,  goodness  knows,  and  there's  four  more 
in  the  upstairs  bedroom.  Sally,  ran  up  and  give  'em  a  bit 
o'  the  stick.  I  '11  warrant  'Enery  's  swallered  all  the  buttons 
orf  of  "is  weskit.  I  never  knew  a  boy  like  'im  for  buttons.' 

"  With  that  mother  give  me  a  wink  and  out  I  went. 
There  warn't  no  kids  upstairs,  o'  course.  There 's  only  me 
at  'ome,  but  the  lady  didn't  know  that.  So  I  pops  up  and 
begun  slapping  my  'and  on  the  wall  and  stamping  about 
and  knocking  up  agin  the  cupboard  and  making  a  racket 
just  as  if  there  was  four  kids  in  the  room  'ollering  blue 
murder  with  me  arter  'em  dusting  their  little  jackets.  Then 
I  went  down  agin.  .  . 

"  '  I  've  quieted  'em,  mother,'  I  says.  ' There  was  only  one 
button  left  on  'Enery's  weskit.' 

"  '  Are  not  your  methods  rather  draskit  ?  '  says  the  lady. 

"  '  They're  ole-fashioned,'  says  mother, '  but  they  're  none 
the  worse  for  that.  Pore  people  can't  waste  their  time 
palavering  with  children.  'Ere  you,  Sally,'  she  says, 
turning  to  mo,  '  you  '11  'ave  to  'ave  a  taste  o'  the  stick 


yourself  if  you  don't  look  brisker.'  And  then  she  runs  on 
with  a  long  story  about  our  struggles  and  tho  'appy  'omes 
we've  lost  and  the  sad  way  wo  've  come  clown  in  the  world, 
and  'ow  we  'vo  got  to  leave  this  'ouse  all  along  o'  the  rent 
and  the  price  o'  food  going  up,  and  what  a  misery  it  is  to 
see  your  children  starving  ;  and  'ow  she  isn't  one  to  com- 
plain, because  the  Lord  made  tho  pore,  and  if  they  wasn't 
"neant  to  be  pore  they  wouldn't  'a'  bin  made  so,  and  'ow 
iind  it  was  of  ladies  like  Mrs.  Robertson  to  come  and  set 
in  their  'ouses.  '  It 's  no  use,'  she  says,  '  offering  us  money 
jecause  we  've  got  our  pride  and  wo  couldn't  be  got  to  take 
money,  but  if  you  '11  stay  'ere  to  tea,  Mum,  and  share  our 
ast  bit  o'  pickled  salmon  and  cowcumher  we  shall  all  ho 
very  pleased.'  Then  she  went  on  to  make  tip  a  story  about 
:ather  wearin'  out  'is  boots  looking  for  work  and  not  finding 
it,  and  'ow  'e  comes  'ome  at  nights  and  cries  over  the  kids, 
and  at  last  the  lady,  she  gets  up  and  says  she  's  'card  enough 
and  it 's  a  sad  case,  and  the  Society  will  put  it  in  a  book 
and  send  it  out  so 's  to  tell  people  what  a  'eartless  Sosherlist 
Guvment  we've  got.  Mother  told  'er  she'd  best  go 
round  and  see  Mrs.  Wortle,  but  the  lady  said  'er  time  was 
ip,  and  so  she  went  out  arter  shaking  'ands  with  us,  and 
orf  she  goes  in  'er  motor-car.  We  ain't  sesn  'er  sinca. 
[  wonder  mother  'ad  the  face  to  do  it." 


COMRADES   IN    DISTRESS. 

WAITRESS,  you  see  that  doleful  little  fellow, 
That  cake  or  pastry — call  it  what  you  will — 

No,  not  the  ecstasy  in  green  and  yellow 
Whose  creamy  crest  outvies  the  daffodil, 

Nor  yet  that  purple  bulge ;  I  mean  the  ono 

That  languishes  behind  the  currant  bun. 

It  breathed,  no  doubt,  a  ravishing  aroma 
When  first  it  left  the  bakery ;  parchanca 

It  cherished  dreams  of  winning  some  diploma  ; 
How  humbled  now  and  out  of  countenance  1 

This  bitter  gash  !     I  saw  a  damsel  thrust 

Her  curious  knife  within  the  virgin  crust, 

And,  finding  it  was  not  what  she  was  needing 
(A  maiden's  palate  craves  a  richer  fare), 

She  spurned  it  from  her,  desolate  and  bleeding; 
For  see,  red  jam  is  oozing  from  the  tear 

That  mars  the  beauty  of  its  toothsome  flake ; 

Waitress,  I  beg  you,  let  ma  have  that  cake ! 

No,  not  for  eating ;  like  an  elder  brother 
I  feel  towards  that  slighted  piece  of  dough ; 

We  '11  sit  and  sympathise  with  one  another, 
And  I  will  bring  it  comfort  in  its  woe ; 

I  '11  tend  its  wounds,  and  it  shall  hear  the  talo 

Why  I  am  so  disconsolate  and  pale. 

This  heart  of  mine  has  suffered  grievous  trial, 
From  me  has  Fate  exacted  heavy  toll ; 

I  too  have  been  embittered  by  denial, 
I  too  have  felt  the  iron  in  my  soul; 

My  Joan  refused  me ;  cruel  was  the  jag ; 

Yes,  if  you  please,  I  '11  have  it  in  a  bag. 


More  Intensive  Culture. 

'  OSTRICH  FARMING  is  A  NUTSHELL." 

AM.  in  "Midland  Xcws  (S.A.)." 


"  Lansbury  now  said  he  would  like  to  justify  his  action.  He  did  it 
because  of  the  hideous  women  and  children"  who  lived  in  Bow,  and 
if  only  sufficient  windows  were  smashed  the  Government  would  bo 
bound  to  take  action." — Daily  Telegraph, 

We  don't  quite  see  what  the  Government  can  do.     And, 
anyhow,  beauty  is  not  everything. 


PBBBUABY  26,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


1G9 


THE    SECOND    CHEST. 

"Goixo  at  live  pounds.  Going — 
going — gonel"  The  auctioneer  brought 
down  his  hammer.  "  To  Mr.  Jarvis  for 
live  pounds,"  ho  said. 

I  jumped  from  the  trap  and  pushed 
my  way  through  the  crowd.  The 
auctioneer's  assistants  were  carrying 
away  the  old  oak  chest  which  I  had 
driven  over  especially  to  buy. 

"  llalf-a-minute,"  I  shouted.  "Can 
you  put  that  up  again  ?  I  want  to  bid." 

"  Sorry,"  s  iid  the  man  with  the 
hammer,  "  but  it 's  been  knocked  down. 
Like  to  bid  for  the  next  lot,  Sir?  Lot 
seven :  A  stuffed  marmoset  in  a  case,  a 
set  of  lire  -  irons,  twelve  volumes  of 
sermons,  and  a  picture  by  an  artist." 

I  fled  hastily  after  the  old  oak  chest. 
"  Are  you  Mr.  Jarvis  ?  "  I  enquired  of 
a  bluff,  hearty-locking  man  who  siood 
regarding  it  with  evident  satisfaction. 

"  I  am,  Sir." 

"You  don't  want  to  sell  that  chest 
again  ?  "  I  enquired.  "  I  '11  give  you 
six  pounds  for  it." 

He  shook  his  head  regretfully. 

"  Seven  pounds  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  I  'd  'a'  took  six  all  right,"  he 
answered,  "  if  so  he  as  I  could  have 
sold  it  again ;  but  I  've  bought  it  on 
commission  for  a  gentleman." 

"  Would  he  sell  it?  "  I  enquired. 

"  No,  he  wouldn't  sell  it."  Mr  Jarvis 
Scratched  his  head  thoughtfully  under 
his  cap.  "  I  were  just  thinking,  though  ; 
if  you  were  wanting  to  go  so  high  as 
eight  pour.ds,  there's  another  chest 
near  by  here  as  I  've  always  thought 
must  have  been  made  at  the  same  time 
and  by  the  same  man  as  made  this  one. 
I  'm  blamed  if  I  'd  know  one  apart  from 
t'other.  Now  the  man  as  that  belongs 
to  lias  had  a  bad  harvest  and  I  reckon 
if  I  were  to  go  to  him  as  a  neighbour 
and  offer  him  eight  pounds  for  his 
chest  he  might  take  it.  Mayhap  he  'd 
take  seven.  I  don't  know.  Safer  to 
say  eight,  anyway." 

"  Where  could  I  see  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  was  to  go  over  to  see 
it  at  his  farm  he  'd  likely  ask  you  twice 
as  much  as  ho  would  me.  I  '11  get  it 
over  to  my  place  and  you  can  come 
round  and  see  it  there — and  if  you  likes 
it  you  can  pay  me  the  eight  pound  or 
sevenpoundor  whatever  he  wants  for  it." 

At  the  end  of  a  week  Mr.  Jarvis 
wrote  me  to  say  that  the  chest  was 
wailing  for  my  kind  inspection  and  that 
the  price  would  be  eight  pounds  ten 
shillings — with  another  ten  shillings 
for  commission. 

"Couldn't  get  it  for  a  penny  less," 
said  Mr.  Jarvis  when  I  arrived,  "  but  I 
think  you  '11  agree  it 's  worth  it.  I  'm  a 
carpenter  by  trade  and  I  know  genuine 
old  work  when  1  see  it.  Things  aren't 


The  General.  "HAH!    so  YOU'RE  TO  BE  Mr  PABTNEB  TO-DAY?" 

New  Member  of  Badminton  Club.  "  PLEASED.  I  'M  SUBE.    HAY  I  ASK  WHY  YOU  CABBY 

THBEF.   BACQUETS?" 

The  General.  "  WELL,  YOC  BEE,   I  'M  BATHEB  SHOBT-SIGHTED  AND  GENERALLY  EEEAE 

ONE  OB  TWO  ON  HY  PABTNEB  DVBINO  THE  CAME." 


put  together  that  way  nowadays  — 
though  the  carving  on  a  modern  bit  of 
furniture  is  a  lot  better  to  my  way  of 
thinking.  Come  inside,  Sir.  I  had  it 
carried  into  my  workshop  out  of  the 
rain." 

I  followed  him.  in  and  examined  the 
chest.  With  the  exception  of  some 
slight  difference  in  the  carving  on  its 
panels  it  might  have  been  the  same 
one  that  I  had  seen  knocked  down  to 
Mr.  Jarvis  at  the  sale.  The  date,  too, 
I  noticed,  was  1591  instead  of  1590. 

"  So  it  is,"  agreed  Mr.  Jarvis ;  "  I 
always  said  they  was  about  the  same 
date,  them  two  chests.  Bit  worm-eaten 
in  the  corner  there.  Does  that  matter?  " 

I  told  him  that  it  did  not,  and  asked 
him  if  he  could  send  it  over  to  the 
house  in  which  I  was  staying  as  I 


shouted  out  of  the  window  that  the 
horse  was  to  be  put  into  the  cart  and 
called  to  another  assistant  to  give  him 
a  hand  out  with  the  chest. 

I  sat  down  at  his  bench  to  write 
him  a  cheque  for  nine  pounds.  Then 
I  changed  my  mind  and  replaced  the 
cheque-book  in  my  pocket. 

Despite  the  frantic  efforts  of  Mr. 
Jan-is  and  his  assistant  the  chest 
refused  to  leave  the  workshop.  It  was 
too  large  to  go  through  the  door  I 

Mr.  W.  L.  GEORGE  in  The  Daily 
News : — 

"  It  needs  no  Charlotte  Perkins  Oilman  to 
remind  us  how  far  away  is  '  neolithic  human 
nature '  when  we  consider  it  in  relation  to  the 
Zeitgeist." 

Still,  her  assurance  on  the  point  makes 


intended  it  for  a  gift  to  my  host.     He  us  feel  more  comfortable. 


170 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI^         [FEBBUABY  26^18.13. 


A   LABOUR   SETTLEMENT. 

ONK  afternco  i  there  came  a  knock  at 
my  private  door,  and  Charles's  soldierly 
face  presently  peered  round  the  edge 

of  it. 

"  How  much  is  it  to  come  in  ?      lie 

said. 

"  Like  that,  six-and-eightpence ;  ten 
shillings,  if  you  come  right  in." 

"  Why  aren't  you  asleep  ?  "  he  asked, 
still  from  the  doorway. 

"  I  was.  I  was  just  in  the  middle  of 
a  beautiful  dream.  A  rich,  handsome 
client  with  a  real  fur  coat — I  suppose 
you  don't  happen  to  have  a  dream-book 
about  you  ?  " 

"  That 's  me,"  he  said,  with  a  grin. 
"  Are  you  going  to  finish  it  ?  " 

"  Not  now,"  I  replied.  "  You  may 
come  in,  if  you  don't  make  a  draught 
and  disturb  the  dust." 

For  some  reason  or  other  the  dust  in 
my  office  is  strictly  preserved,  and  I 
have  to  be  very  particular  about  it,  the 
idea  probably  being  to  ensure  the 
correct  legal  atmosphere.  It  is  just 
this  scrupulous  attention  to  detail  that 
makes  the  City  caretaker  the  artist 
she  is. 

As  Chares  ushered  himself,  in,  I  re- 
tied  the  bundle  of  papers  I  had^  hastily 
undone  upon  hearing  a  'visitor,  and 
threw  it  back  on  the  desk  with  the 
others.  Bundles  three  I  have  in  all. 
As  the  man  of  whom  I  bought  them 
said,  if  a  client  should  happen  to  call, 
it  looks  rather  cheap  to  have  only  an 
inkpot  dividing  you.  They  make  quite 
a  picture,  the  three  of  them,  with  their 
little  blue  overalls  and  their  little  pink 
sashes  tied  into  bows. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  leaning  back  in  my 
chair,  "  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Now 
I  have  a  very  nice  line  in  divorce  for 
one  week  only,  dirt  cheap  at  a  hundred 
guineas.  If  alimony  is  desired " 

"  Shut  up !  And  don't  talk  to  me 
about  divorce !  " 

I  looked  rather  hurt ;  I  thought 
soldiers  loved  to  hear  about  divorce. 

"  Look  here,"  he  broke  out,  "  I  've 
come  for  advice,  and  I  hope  you  've 
got  some." 

"  Advice !  Of  course  I  have.  Any 
amount  of  it,  simply  eating  its  head 
off.  You  really  want  some  ?  Eeally  ? 
Allow  me !  Let  me  hang  up  your  hat 
for  you ! " 

Then  I  took  his  hand  and  wrung  it 
a  while  in  silence ;  I  wanted  time  to 
think,  to  realise  properly  my  position. 
If  he  was  going  to  ask  my  advice  about 
wearing  side-whiskers,  or  whether  a 
friend  could  marry  his  deceased  wife's 
sister,  I  was  ready  for  him.  But  if 


go  out  and  tell  the  office-boy  and  be 
ushered  in  gradually." 

"I  hope  it's  nothing  complica— 
I  mean,  nothing  serious?"  I  said. 

Sit  down  and  toll  me  all  about  it — in 
your  own  words." 

I  sat  very  still  with  the  tips  of  my 
fingers  together,  ready  for  one  of  those 
harrowing  stories  I  have  read  so  much 
about.  But  it  did  not  come.  I  counted 
the  buttons  of  his  waistcoat,  perused 
his  parting,  and  finally  ran  down  a 
smut  on  the  side  of  his  nose.  Still 
nothing  came,  and  the  suspense  was 
terrific. 

"  There 's  a  tiny  smut  you  'vo  got. 
Just  here.  Shall  I  lick  it  off — I  mean, 
if  you  '11  moisten  your  handkerchief, 
I  '11  take  it  off  for  .you." 

The  smut  was  removed,  confidence 
was  restored,  and  Charles's  tongue  was 
loosed.  And  all  done  by  tact,  tact  and 
kindness. 

"Thanks.     Well — er— the  fact  is— 


"  I  *m  sony,  old  chap,"  he  put  in  ; 
"  I  forgot.  I  ought  to  have  broken  it 
gently.  If  you  '11  wait  a  moment,  I  '11 


oi- 


that how  it  is?  I  see."  And 
with  true  professional  delicacy  I  got  up 
and  switched  off  the  light.  It  is  the 
little  graceful  actions  of  this  kind  that 
endear  you  to  your  clients  and  enable 
you  to  die  with  a  fortune  running  into 
six  figures. 

Oh,  no.     It's  nothing  like  that," 
he  explained  hastily. 

I  switched  it  on  again.  Two  pretty 
examples  of  tact,  you  see,  and  both 
simply  thrown  away  on  people  like 
Charles. 

"  I  'm  engaged,"  he  blurted  out  at 
last. 

"  But  that 's  not  all,"  he  went  on, 
when  I  had  congratulated  him.  I 
nodded  comprehension. 

"  A  simple  case  of  bigamy,  eh — or 
rather,  breach  of  promise  ?  Well, 
where  is  the  writ  ?  " 

"Don't  be  an  idiot!  Her  father 
asked  me  last  night  how  much  I  was 
prepared  to  settle  on  her.  Me ! "  and  he 
pointed  to  himself  so  that  there  should 
be  no  mistake. 

This  really  was  serious. 

"  What  did  you  say  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  said  I  would  consult  my  solicitor 
about  it,  and  here  I  am.  What  on 
earth  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"How  much  have  you  got?"  He 
put  his  hand  to  his  pocket.  "  No,  no," 
I  added ;  "  we  can  settle  up  after.  I 
mean,  what  capital  have  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  mean,"  he  began. 

"  No  assets.  I  thought  so.  Any 
liabilities  ?  " 

"  Yes,  plenty  of  those — but  very  old 
ones.  Well,  what  am  I  to  say  ?  Shall 
I  say  that  my  solicitor  tells  me  I  have 
nothing  to  settle  except  a  few  old  debts, 
which  are  of  no  earthly  value  to  anyone 
but  ourselves  ?  Or  shall  I  say  straight 


out  that,  as  I  'm  settling  down,  if 
jhere  's  any  more  settling  to  be  done, 
t  's  his  turn  to  do  it  ?  " 

But  rny  mind  was  revolving  the  sub- 
jleties  of  the  law,  and  I  waved  him  to 
hold  his  peace,  and  thought  very  hard. 

"  The  firm  has  an  idea,"  I  said 
presently.  "  Tell  me.  How  much  is 
ier  father  prepared  to  bring  into  settle- 
ment?" 

"That's  just  the  devil  of  it.  He 
said  he  would  put  up  as  much  as  I 
did." 

"Very  proper  and  usual,"  I  said  im- 
pressively. "  Now  listen.  Have  you 
ver  heard  of  what  we  call  in  the  pro- 
'ession  acovenant  to  settle  after-acquired 
property  ?  No.  Well,  roughly  it  comes 
;o  this :  whereas  one  party  settles  hard 
cash,  the  other  party  merely  binds 
nimself  to  do  so  at  some  future  post- 
nuptial date.  An  extremely  useful 
provision  when  your  capital  is  locked 
up.  You  are  young,  you  have  energy, 
ambition,  brains — at  least,  so  you  will 
iell  him — and  several  aunts.  You  have 
some  maiden  aunts,  haven't  you  ?  As 
I  say,  your  prospects  are  of  the  bright- ' 

.  After  many  years  of  hard  work, 
promotion,  legacies,  and  so  forth,  could 
you  or  could  you  not  scrape  together, 
say,  £15,000  to  hand  to  the  trustees  of 
your  settlement  ?  Are  you  prepared  to 
inter  into  a  solemn  covenant  to  that 
effect  ?  " 

"  I  might  manage  it,"he  said.thought- 
[ully  scratching  his  nose,  "  I  might.  I 
might  even  manage  £20,000." 

"  Well,  go  and  tell  him  so,  like  a 
man." 

He  went  like  a  bird. 

*          -*          *          *  -» 

"  Well,"  I  said,  when  he  came  to 
see  me  next  day,  "what  about  it? 
You  told  him  what  I  said  ? "  But 
from  his  face  I  knew  that  things  had 
not  gone  well. 

"  Yes,  I  told  him  what  you  said  all 
right,"  he  replied,  passing  his  hand  over 
his  brow,  "  but  he  only  winked — twice, 
once  with  each  eye." 

"  It  sounds  rather  as  though  he 
were  a  man  of  business,  Charles — who 
regularly  consults  his  solicitor,"  I  added 
for  the  honour  of  the  profession. 

"  He  is,"  said  Charles  dismally, 
"  and  he  offered  me  a  job  in  it  at  five 
hundred  to  start  with,  if  I  chuck  up 
the  Service." 

So  Charles  will  have  to  take  off  his 
coat  and  devote  the  rest  of  his  days  to 
strenuous  toil.  Well,  honest  work  will 
not  kill  him,  and  the  hours  really  pass 
very  quickly  if  you  have  a  good  appe- 
tite and  do  not  suffer  from  insomnia. 
And  when  he  's  in  doubt  or  difficulty 
he  can  always  come  to  me  for  advice. 
There  is  plenty  more  where  the  last 
came  from. 


FEBRUARY  26,  1913.]  PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CH.MMVAIM. 


171 


Clarence  (remarking  defects  in  his  only  suit).  "NoosANCE  'ow  THE  MOTH  DO  GIT  INTO  YEB  CLOTHES,  WOT  !  " 


WITH    THE    MULE-TRAIN. 


MULES  and  mesas  and  mosquitos 
.     And  a  land  that  half  its  heat  owes 
To  its  jobs,  its  dust,  the  cantrips  of  its  squealing  muley 
teams ; 

While  the  sun-glare,  jumpy,  aching, 
Sets  the  thirsty  levels  quaking,    . 
Till  a  young  man  might  see  visions  and  an  old  man  might 
dream  dreams ! 

Mine  go  this,  way,  green,  consoling : — • 
There 's  the  ridge  and  furrow  rolling 

To  the  near-by  home  horizon,  grey  and  misty,  cold  and  still ; 
And  the  wet  hangs  on  the  hedges, 
And  the  clouds  have  mackerel  edges ; 

Miles  away  a  gorse  blurs  bluely  on  the  landscape's  only  hill ! 

That's  his  point— I  'd  have  you  notice, 

Not  a  tucked-up  cur  coyote's — • 
'  Tis  a  big  red  Midland  dog-fox  leads  across  his  native  grass, 

Full  of  pluck,  and  full  of  cunning, 

And  (at  present)  full  of  running, 

Raised   on   turkey-cock   at   Christmas    and    on    goose    at 
Michaelmas. 

Now  in  dreams  the  usual  course  is 
That  a  chap  may  choose  his  horses, 

And  I  've  always  leant  to  longtails  when  there 's  galloping 
to  do ; 


But  to-day  I  'm  on  a  racer, 
Not  some  screw  hunt-steeplechaser, 
But  the  sort  that  wins  at  Aintree  with  at  least  eleven  two. 

He 's  a  raking  powerful  jumper, 

Though  the  bank-flushed  brook  'a  a  bumper, 

Though  the  blackthorn's  dark  and  hairy  with  a  ditch  that's 
deep  and  wide, 

His  no  scrambled  blown  endeavour, 
Smooth  as  clock-work,  quick  and  clever, 

One  turn  faster,  half  an  ear-cock,  and  he 's  over  in  his  stride! 

That 's  the  sort ;  he  fairly  smothers 

With  his  gallop  all  the  others ; 

We  're  alone  when,  hackles  lifted,  hounds  are  racing  for  a 
kill, 

And  the  pirate  rooks  are  stooping 

At  a  brush  that 's  mired  and  drooping, 
And  a  beaten  fox  is  crawling  up  the  hedge  below  the  hill. 

There,  they  've  got  him  sure  and  certain ; 
So — who-whoop !  ring  down  the  curtain — 
Mules  and  mesas  and  mosquitos,  mighty  things  have  come 
to  pass, 

For  a  penniless  poor  devil 
Has  had  twenty  minutes'  revel 

On  a  thousand-guinea  racehorse  and  five  miles  of  English 
grass! 


172 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [FEBHUABY  2G.  1913. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
POLITICS,  according  to  the  author  of  tho  admirable  Broke 


They  and  their  surroundings  are  so  well  drawn  that,  though 
it  would  be  easy  to  dismiss  the  book  as  improper  (which  it 
occasionally  is),  cynical,  and  dull  (in  places),  it  has  subtle 
qualities  that  cannot  be  lightly  overlooked.  What  might 


of  Covsnden  and  tho  happy-fantastic  Fortune,  are  more  perhaps  bo  called  tho  lilies  and  longueurs  of  vico  have 
exciting  in  An  Affair  of  State  (METHUEN)  than  any  glimpses  j  seldom  been  better  conveyed.  Also  there  are  some  good 
that  wo  get  of  them  from  Hansard  and  the  platforms :  theatre-scenes,  and  at  least  one  new  situation  concerning 
would  lead  us  to  suppose.  This  particular  "affair"  is  the:  a  dramatic  censor.  But  my  chief  quarrel  is  with  certain 
handling  of  a  crisis  duo  to  tho  Workers'  League,  with  its !  passages  in  tho  dialogue  of  which  I  thought  that  the  in- 
fifte3n  million  members,  declaring  a  general  strike,  and  to  j  decorum  did  not  always  ring  true,  seeming  indeed  less 
a  coalition  Government  paralysed  and  broken  by  the  in- 1  indigenous  to  the  situation  than  imported  for  commercial 
dependence  of  a  Mr.  Draper,  President  of  the  Board  of  (purposes.  But  I  may  quite  easily  be  wrong  here.  Any- 
Conciliation,  a  risen  man  of  tho  people,  hated  by  the  Right, ,  how,  it  is  a  brilliant  piece  of  work  that  should  increase  its 


and  dubbed  "The  Haberdasher."  He  is  backed  by  the 
great  industrial  Noith,  but  is,  on  the  whole,  a  rather 
isolated  and  distrusted  figure.  Realising  that  the  famous 
Clause  Nine  of  the  Conciliation  Bill  will  hand  England 
over  in  fetters  to  organised  labour,  he  has  the  courage  to  cry 


author's  reputation. 


Life  held  three  things  for  Mrs.  Trcmaync — her  husband, 
her  son,  and  her  house.  Her  husband  died,  her  son  died, 
and  one  night  somebody  burnt  down  her  house.  In  her  own 


"  Halt !  "   But  I  hope  that  if  and  when  such  a  crisis  arrives  '  mind  she  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  criminal  was  one 


it  will  find  a  man  of  the 
Centre  less  emotional 
and  erratic  than  Draper, 
with  "  his  large  and 
prominent  nose  and 
fighting  jaw  literally 
cleaving  his  way 
through  wind  and 
water,"  his  pallors  and 
perspirations,  his  ex- 
alted philandering,  his 
compassless  mysticism, 
his  duels,  and  what 
not:  and  a  Right  less 
fatuously  reactionary, 
undiscerning  and  foul- 
mouthed  than  the  Duke 
of  Rockingham  and  his 
little  lot.  1  feel  sure 
that  it  will  find  a 
sounder  Left  than  Mr. 
SNAITH,  who,  I  dare 
think,  has  not  expended 
much  effort  in  testing 
the  currents  of  modern 
labour  politics.  But  I 
gather  that  our  author  is  really  weaving  a  fancy  in  the  neo- 
Ruritanian  manner,  and  he  makes  an  exciting  thing  of  it. 
It  is  nice  to  meet  an  Illustrious  Personage  strolling  over 
to  the  President's  study  for  a  couple  of  whiskies  and  a  chat, 
and  it  is  thrilling  to  hear  in  imagination  "  the  tumbrils 
down  Piccadilly" — motor  tumbrils,  no  doubt.  An  Affair 
of  State  is  an  eminently  readable  book,  and  a  very  pleasant 
note  of  chivalrous  loyalty  runs  through  it. 

Miss  VIOLET  HUNT  is  a  clever  woman.  The  characters 
i  her  latest  story,  The  Celebrity's  Daughter  (STANLEY 
PAUL),  are  such  dreary  scoundrels  that  you  would  suppose 
it  impossible  to  take  the  slightest  interest  in  their  fate. 
But  she  makes  you  do  it.  The  method  employed  is  to 
ntroduce  amongst  them  a  heroine  who,  while  quite  as 
unprincipled,  retains  some  attractive  qualities,  the  remains 
of  a  pious  affection  for  her  battered  and  discredited  father, 
a  caustic  wit,  and  above  all  an  abundant  and  compelling 
vitality.  It  is  Tempe's  high  spirit  that  galvanizes  the  book, 
and  gives  it  an  appeal  at  which  in  retrospect  you  may  find 
yourself  astonished.  For  the  atmosphere  in  which  she 
noves  is  enough  to  make  the  boldest  yawn.  Miss  HUNT 
ms  not  spared  us  a  detail  of  the  sordid  intrigues  and 
wearisome  immoralities  of  the  set  she  has  chosen  to  depict. 


THE  WORLD'S  WORKERS. 
GROWING  PEAS  FOE  POLICE- WHISTLES  AT  THE  WOBMWOOD  SCEUBBS  PEA -FARM. 


Blagy,  a  particularly 
repulsive  scoundrel  who 
had  a  fancied  grievance 
against  her ;  and  she 
settled  down  in  a 
cottage  near  the  scone 
of  the  tragedy  to  collect 
evidence  against  him 
which  should  make  a 
jury  as  C3rtain  of  his 
guilt  as  she  herself  was. 
That  is  the  main  theme 
of  Mr.  CHBISTOPHEU 
STONE'S  new  story,  The 
Burnt  House  (MARTIN 
SECKEE),  and  the  obvi- 
ous way  to  have  treated 
it  would  have  been  as 
a  kind  of  Sherlock 
Holmes,  a  let-me-just- 
run-through-the-  most- 
significant-  points- 
a,g&in-Watson  episode. 
Mr.  STONE  avoids  the 
obvious.  It  is  the  in- 
fluence of  the  quest  on 
the  development  of  Mrs.  Tremaync's  character  that  engages 
his  attention,  and  he  has  drawn  a  remarkable  picture  of  this 
lonely  woman,  battered  by  misfortune,  falling  gradually 
under  the  spell  of  her  fixed  idea  of  vengeance  and  emerging 
triumphantly  from  her  Slough  of  Despond  when  John 
Dethick  comes  back  into  her  life  and  gives  her  something 
human  to  live  for.  There  is  a  curiously  matter-of-fact  air 
about  the  story.  Neither  in  incident  nor  in  character  does 
Mr.  STONE  for  one  instant  strain  for  effect.  Melodrama  is 
always  waiting  for  him  with  outstretched  arms,  but  he 
dodges  past  it  with  the  nimbleness  of  a  Harlequin  three- 
quarter.  A  good  example  of  this  occurs  when  the  faithful 
chauffeur  offers  his  help  to  Mrs.  Tremayne :  "  And  if  you  '11 
allow  me  to  do  what  I  can,  m'm,  1  '11  find  out  everything 
for  you,  m'm,  or  my  name's  not  Sebastian  Kean."  Was 
there  ever  a  clearer  cue  for  the  heroine  to  smile  a  sad, 
sweet  smile  and  murmur  nicely-chosen  words  of  thanks? 
Mrs.  Tremaync's  reply  would  never  have  done  for  the 
BKOTHEKS  MELVILLE.  "But  is  that  your  name?"  she 
asked,  far  more  interested  in  this  point  than  in  his  fidelity. 


We  shall  not  join  this. 


THE  TEIFE  ENTENTE."      • 

>..    •  Buenos  Aires  Standard. 


M.vnon  5.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


173 


CHARIVARIA. 

THAT  a  Suffragette's  proposal  to  enter 
a  cage  containing  threo  lions,  and 
while  there  to  address  an  audience  on 
Woman's  Suffrage,  should  have  been  for- 
bidden is  not  surprising.  The  curious 
point  is  that  no  protest  came  from  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Animals.  *  * 

Whoever  is  looking  after  the  war  in 
tlio  Near  East  appears  to  bo  very  care- 
less. Several  battles  have  had  to  be 
put  off  owing  to  falls  of  snow,  but  the 
simple  precaution  of  covering  the 
ground  with  straw  has  not  yet  been 
taken.  *  * 

* 

A  domestic  sen-ant  at  Berwick  has 
just  wokun  up  after  a  sleep  of  six  days. 
One  of  these  cheap  alarum-clocks,  we 

presume.  *  * 

* 

The  lunatic  who  recently  posed  as  a 
magistrate  took  his  seat,  we  are  told, 
on  the  bench,  and,  when  applicants 
came  before  him,  "  listened  to  them 
gravely."  It  was  this  slip  which  first 

aroused  suspicion. 

*  * 

A  striking  confirmation  of  Sir 
EDWARD  CARSON'S  dictum,  "  Ulster  will 
Fight,"  was  given  at  a  recent  boxing 
contest  at  Belfast,  where  the  spectators 
not  only  knocked  down  the  winner  of 
the  competition  and  poured  buckets  of 
water  over  him,  but  also  severely 

damaged  a  perfectly  good  referee. 

*  * 
* 

Inspector    ARNOLD,    after    spending 

forty-nine  years  underground,  is  now 
coming  up  to  live  on  a  pension.  "  I 
don't  know  what  I  shall  do,"  he  says, 
"  when  I  have  to  spend  all  day  out  on 
top.  Give  me  smoke  and  smell." 
Londoners  are  justly  incensed  at  the 
suggestion  that  these  luxuries  can  only 

be  obtained  underground. 

*  i  * 

Their  civic  pride  is,  however,  soothed 
by  the  announcement  of  a  French  air- 
man that,  passing  over  London  a 
thousand  feet  up,  he  knew  where  he 
was  by  the  unpleasant  smell. 

*  * 

Little  by  little^  the  gaps  in  the 
world's  knowledge  are  being  filled  up. 
Mr.  T.  SEDOLEY,  through  the  medium 
of  The  Express,  states  that  he  has 
found  out  that  wasps  can  sting  in 
February.  ,,,  + 

-I* 

Born  near  .Bridgnorfch  in  the  early 
part  of  last  Summer,  a  number  of 
tadpoles  have  nod  yet  become  frogs ; 
and  a  highly  respected  zoologist  in- 
forms us  that  the  retardation  is  due  to 
insufficient  food.  What  tadpoles  hope 

VOL.  CSLI7. 


PHOTOGRAPHED  BEFORE  THE  EVENT. 

(With  apologies  to  our  sprightly  contemporaries  who  occasionally  startle  Ut 
with  this  kind  of  thing.) 


A  terrible  tragedy  has  overtaken  a 
Russian  family  named  Oskof.  Desiring 
to  see  their  aged  grandfather  they  walked 
from  St.  Petersburg  to  Odessa,  only  to 
find  he  had  been  blacked  and  sold  as  a 
slave  to  a  rubber  plantation  in  Squeegee, 
where  he  was  subsequently  massacred. 
Returning  home  on  foot,  tha  twelve 
children  were  devoured  by  wolves.  Three 
weeks  later  the  wife  fell  through  a  hole 
in  the  ice  while  crossing  the  Neva,  and 
the  husband,  in  attempting  her  rescue, 
lost  his  purse  with  the  savings  of  fifteen 
years.  Pushing  on  alone,  he  arrived — in 
a  thunderstorm — to  find  his  home  (uninsured)  burnt  to  the  ground — the  dastardly 
act  of  a  former  suitor  to  his  deceased  wife's  hand.-  (Portrait  is  of  the  bereaved  father, 
Oskof — the  only  survivor.) 


Josh  Blobbs,  the  Staffordshire  miner, 
who  has  just  won  200,000  marks  in  a 
Bavarian  lottery. 


to  gain  by  these  foolish  hunger-strikes 
we  cannot  understand. 

*  * 
# 

The  New  York  authorities  confirm  ex- 
President  CASTRO'S  statement  that  he 
has  left  America  "  merely  for  pleasure  " 
— his  own  and  theirs. 

V 

It  has  been  discovered  that  nearly 
all  itinerant  German  musicians  come 
from  the  villages  of  Wolfstein  and 
Yettenbach,  on  the  Ehine.  We  fear 
that  the  mawkish  sentimentality  of 
the  public  will  prevent  any  arrange- 
ment being  made  for  exterminating 
their  instruments  at  one  concerted 
swoop  when  they  are  all  at  home 
practising;  but  we  confess  that  we 
toy  wistfully  with  the  idea. 

*  * 

What  Buttermilk  Is.  According  to 
an  evening  paper,  "  buttermilk  is  the 
backbone  of  Ireland."  This  explains  a 
good  deal. 


In  the  cloistered  seclusion  of 
Windsor,  the  headmaster  of  Eton  has 
allowed  himself  to  get  a  little  behind 
the  times.  "  The  golf-course,"  he  says, 
"is  an  admirable  corrective  of  nervous 
tension.  There  is  no  unrest  there." 
Clifford's  Inn  hums  like  a  hive  at  the 

slight  cast  upon  its  activities. 
*  * 

* 

Just  as  wo  thought  we  had  solved 
the  problem  of  the  tasteful  yet  inexpen- 
sive wedding-present,  we  are  stunned 
by  the  information,  in  a  daily  paper, 
that  the  price  of  pythons  has  gone  up 
£1  a  foot. 


From  a  review  in  T.P.'s  Weekly : — 

"A  charming  book  ...  If  you  have  a 
friend  who  can  appreciate  really  intimate  and 
beautiful  writing,  buy  it,  and  read  it  carefully 
word  by  word  yourself." 

Does  your  little  boy  appreciate  really 
good  chocolate?  Buy  some  and  eat  it 
carefully  stick  by  stick  yourself. 


174 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5,  1913. 


PENANCE. 

[Tho  dramatic  critic  reflects  on  tho  present  decline  in  theatrical 
rcNcuues,  attributed  in  part  to  abstinence  during  Lent.J 

SOME  there  are  whom  conscience  tickles, 

Bidding  pay  their  Lenten  toll, 
Cut  off  sugar,  jam  and  pickles, 

And  renounce  tho  wassail-bowl, 
Givo  the  flesh  to  flagellation  for  the  purging  of  the  soul. 

Some  elect  to  copo  with  vices 

Not  concerned  with  food  and  drink, 
I'ractise  social  sacrifices, 

Fly  the  rag-time  and  the  rink, 
Shun  the  carnal  snares  of  coon-can  or  the  ways  of  men  in 
pink. 

Some  prefer  a  mental  bleeding, 

Close  the  novel's  lurid  page, 
Givo  up  halfpenny-paper-reading 

And  in  heavier  thought  engage, 
Poring  over  cyclopaedias  or  the  works  of  saint  and  sage. 

Some,  who  love  the  footlights  well,  swear 

To  eschew  the  ballet's  ranks, 
Girls  in  Taxis  (ay,  and  elsewhere), 

And  the  boom  in  hustling  Yanks, 
To  abstain  from  STANLEY  HOUGHTON  and  the  homely  life  of 
Lanes.  .     .• 

Thus,  my  Tompkins,  you  adapt  your 

Thespian  tastes  to  monkish  fare,' 
Exile  from  the  Halls  of  Eapture, 

Where  you  breathed  Elysian  air, 
And  the  Great  Eenunciation's  almost  more  than  you  can  bear. 

Much  I  praise  your  self-denial, 

Spurning  joys  to  which  you  're  wed ;  • 
But,  for  me,  it  were  no  trial, 

I  'm  so  badly  overfed, 

I  should  love  this  form  of  fasting  and  could  dp  it  on  my 
head. •  O.  S. 

THE    S.P.I. K.S.A,     . 

VITELLIUS  has  been  a  little  off  colour  again,  and  though 
it  matters  very  little  to  Vitellius,  it  matters  a  good  deal  to 
us.  When  'Vitellius  is  dead— he  is  an  Irish  terrier  with 
the  least  touch,  so  the  gossips  say,  of  Airedale  in  him—- 
when Yitellius  has  assumed  the  title  of  divus,  the  chronicler 
will  have  to  record  that  one  of  the  most  beautiful  traits  of 
his  character  was  that  the  incidents  of  a  Channel  crossing 
could  have  no  terrors  for  him ;  he  was  Hardened  to  such 
tests  by  almost  daily  use.  But  just  at  present,  of  course, 
•we  are  not  crossing  the  Channel;  we  are  in  a  very  small 
flat,  and  it  is  rather  tiresome.  Yitellius  came  to  us  with 
the  generic  name  of  Caesar,  but  we  could  not  rest  satisfied 
until  we  had  determined  to  which  of  the  wearers  of  the 
purple  he  bore  most  resemblance.  Hesitating  for  some 
time  over  NERO  and  HELIOGABALUS,  we  gave  the  vote  at 
last  to  that  stout  bon-vivant,  the  successor  of  GALBA.  We 
were  certain  almost  from  the  beginning  that  it  was  not 
MARCUS  AURELIUS  ANTONINUS.  1  do  not  mean  to  suggest, 
of  course,  that  Vitellius  is  anything  of  an  epicure,  and  I 
believe  that  nightingales'  tongues  would  be  absolutely  losl 
on  him ;  but  with  the  things  that  do  happen  to  tickle  his 
palate  his  appetite  is  only  equalled  by  his  calm  but  often 
untimely  submission  to  the  pangs  of  Nemesis. 

The  official  food  of  Vitellius  is  dog-biscuit,  broken  up  am 
mixed  with  a  very  little  gravy ;  and  there  are  nights  when 
he  will-  look  up  at  us  with  a  winning  smile,  wag  his  tail 


and  make  some  pretence  of  doing  justice  to  the  feast.  "I 
enow  you  two  dear  good  people  want  me  to  eat  this  stuff," 
s,  I  fancy,  what  ho  would  say  if  ho  could.  "  Here  am  I, 
ii-ed  out  after  a  long  day's  work— two  pieces  of  decayed 
ish,  some  offal  from  the  butcher's  shop,  and  several  of  those 
nice  little  sugar-cakes  in  the  flat  below ;  but  I  am  a  good 
'ellow,  after  all,  and  unselfish.  I  will  do  my  best  to  please 
,-ou."  But  even  this,  unhappily,  is  not  often.  As  a  rule 
_ie  sniffs  casually  at  the  banquet,  and  then  sits  up  with 
shining  eyes  in  an  attitude  of  expectant  prayer.  "  A  plea- 
sant toy  of  yours,"  he  confesses.  "  But  now  let  us  turn  to. 
dinner."  Let  it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  Vitellius's 
,eoth  are  faulty.  Far  from  it. 

Thomas,  who  gave  him  to  us,  and  who  rather  fancies 
limself  about  dogs,  came  and  looked  at  him  one  day  and 
said,  "  That  creature's  coat  is  in  pretty  bad  condition ;  you 
ought  to  give  him  more  exercise."  "  We  do,"  I  said ; 
'come  out  for  a  walk  now."  Thomas  had  a  rather  nice 
ane  walking-stick,  and  he  was  wearing  light  fawn-coloured 
spats.  I  persuaded  him  to  throw  his  stick  into  a  pond  for 
Vitellius  to  retrieve.  After  a  long  healthy  swim  in  every 
possible  wrong  direction  the  emperor  found  the  stick, 
orought  it  to  land,  put  it  down,  shook  himself,  rolled  carc- 
'ully  in  the  mud,  came  and  pawed  Thomas's  spats,  returned 
;o  the  stick,  galloped  about  with  it  in  circles  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  and  then  lay  down  and  ate  it. 

But  I  should  not  mind  if  it  were  only  Thomas's  walking- 
sticks.  There  is  no  ruffian  in  the  street  so  poor  that 
Yitellius  will  not  beg  a  greasy  crust  from  him ;  and  since, 
by  a  strange  fantasj',  he  regards  all  the  flats  in  our  block 
as  rooms  in  a  single  house,  he  is  always  dropping  in  on 
their  occupiers  and  sitting  up  to  a  hearty  tea  of  nmffnis  and 
cake.  And  then,  next  morning,  he  will  steal  softly  away 
into  the  drawing-room  and— behave  as  if  he  were  at  sea. 

That  is  why  I  wish  to  found  the  S.P.I. K.S.A.  The  Society 
for  the  Prevention  of  Indiscriminate  Kindness  to  Strange 
Animals  will,  of  course,  be  useless  unless  it  is  assisted  by 
an  Act  of  Parliament.  But  when  once  that  is  passed  there 
will  be  uniformed  inspectors  who  will  take  the  name  and 
address  of  anyone  they  see  giving  food  to  a  strange  dog  in 
the  streets  or  .elsewhere.  Then  they  will  communicate  with 
the  owner  of  the  dog,  and  he  will  be  entitled  to  prosecute. 
The  penalties  for  offenders  convicted  at  tho  instance  of  the 
S.P.I.K.S.A.  will  be  very  severe.  For  the  first  offence  a 
fine  of  two  guineas  will  be  inflicted ;  for  tho  second  there 
will  be  a  sentence  of  two  months'  hard  labour.  But  it  will 
not  be  the  usual  kind  of  hard  labour;  prisoners  will  be 
compelled  to  turn  out  at  5  A.M.  every  day  and  feed  a  growing 
dog  on  half-a-dozen  sugar-buns  and  a  large  mutton-bone 
with  plenty  of  meat  on  it.  After  that  they  will  exercise  the 
dog  up  and  down  the  prison-yard  until  such  time  as  he  sees 
fit  to  eat  a  hard  dry  biscuit  for  his  supper.  There  will,  I 
think,  be  no  third  conviction  under  the  auspices  of  the  new 
society. 

An  Explanation. 
"  The  whole  of  the  available  public  space  in  the  court  was  occupied. 
Those  present  in  court  included  Mr.  G.  K.  Chesterton." 

Manchester  Evening  Chronicle, 
No  more  need  be  said. 


From  a  quoted  review,  in  a  book-catalogue,  of  Liverpool 
and  the  Mersey  :— 

"Mr.  Scott  has  fine  powers  of  expression,  and  in  such  a  passage 
as  that  in  which  he  describes  the  appearance  of  tho  poet  when  seen 
by  an  approaching  steamer,  ho  rises  to  a  high  level." 
It   almost  compares  with   our    "  First    Glimpse    of    Mr. 
WATTS-DUNTON  at  Putney  from  a  Penny  Steamboat  "- 
now  out  of  print. 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIVARL— MARCH  5,   1913. 


"LES    BEAUX    ESPKITS 


RUSSIAN  BEAR.  "A  VERY  HAPPY  THOUGHT  HAS  JUST  OCCURRED  TO  ME.     WHAT  ABOUT 
KEEPING   THE  PEACE?" 

AUSTMAN  EAGLE.  ••  MY    DEAR     FELLOW,    I    DON'T    WANT    TO    DEPRIVE    YOU     OF    THE 
F  OF  THIS  BRILLIANT  IDEA,  BUT  THE  VERY  SAME  NOTION   HAD  ALSO  OCCURRED 
TO  ME  ONLY  A   MOMENT  AGO." 


MAECH  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


177 


THE  LATEST  THINGS  IN  PETS   SKETCHED   (TO  THE   BESI  OP  HIS   ABILITY)   FEOM  LITE  BY  OUB  AKTIST  AT  MOSTE  CAItLO. 


LONDON  IS  SO  BEACING. 

THE  DAILY  TELEQBAPH,  in  an  article 
on  the  L.C.C.  elections,  says,  "  London 
Las  a  bill  of  health  of  which  any  holiday- 
resort  might  be  proud — and  people  from 
the  other  parts  of  the  Empire  and 
from  the  provinces  visit  the  Metropolis 
not  only  because  it  is  attractive,  but 
because  it  is  remarkably  healthy." 

Mr.  Punch  suggests  a  daily  parallel 
column  to  "  Health,  and  Sunshine,"  and 
he  offers  his  contemporary  a  first 
instalment : — 

HACKNEY -SUPER -MARSH. — The 
glorious  weather  of  the  past  fifteen 
years  still  prevails.  Thousands  of 
people  pour  into  this  district  by  the 
return  business  trains  each  evening. 
The  N.E.  wind  has  been  much  wel- 
comed, coming  straight  from  the  North 
Sea  over  East  Anglia  and  the  Bone 
Works.  The  inducements  of  Hackney 
as  a  pleasure  resort  will  be  seen  by  the 
following  figures : — 

February  sunshine     .     200  hours. 
„          rainfall  .     .    4  pints. 

No  fog  has  beea  experienced  during 
the  whole  month. 

BLUE  LION.       C01IF.  SAL.  BAR.       BLLRDS. 


HAMMERSMITH. — This  favoured  resort 
is  still  rejoicing  in  the  reports  of  un- 
precedented warmth  and  dryness  which 
uro  issued  by  the  public-spirited  local 


council.  While  London  generally — and 
particularly  tho  East  London  pleasure 
resorts — have  suffered  from  an  abnorm- 
ally gloomy  winter,  the  statistics  below 
will  show  the  happy  lot  of  this  sunny 
little  nook  in  the  West.  Prospective 
holiday-makers  will  note  the  very  re- 
markable sunshine  figures : — 

February  sunshine     .     250  hours. 
,,          rainfall  .     .     Nil. 

No  trace  of  mist  was  recorded  during 
the  month. 

CEME.  G  ACRES.      COMF.      TERMS  MOD. 


SOUTHWARK. — The  construction  of 
the  new  Paul's  Bridge  should  greatly 
increase  the  tourist  traffic  to  this 
charming  old  riparian  cathedral  city. 

Delightful  weather  was  (as  usual,  of 
course)  experienced  yesterday.  The 
river  foreshore  forms  a  fascinating 
resort  for  fashionable  visitors,  who  seek 
at  the  ebb  for  stranded  treasure.  Added 
zest  has  been  given  to  their  quest  by 
the  prize  offered  by  Tlie  Daily  News 
for  any  relics  of  the  steamers  wrecked 
by  the  Moderates. 

BEAU    RIVAGE.        FINEST    POS.     EUROPE. 

CLOSE  FRSHRE.    CASINO.    Gd.  per  night. 


HOLLOWAT.  —  Magnificent  weather 
continues  in  this  quiet  little  spot, 
where  the  Castle  Hydro  is  patronised 
more  for  its  rest  cure  than  for  the 
feverish  gaieties  of  other  resorts. 


Visitors  soon  fall  in  with  the  simple 
regimen  that  everyone  follows — early 
rising  and  retiring — plain  cuisine — 
abstention  from  stimulants — uncon- 
ventional costume — and  avoidance  of 
restless  excursions.  It  is  a  tribute  to 
the  place  that  many  habitues  return 
year  after  year. 

THE   LORD   ROWTOX   ARMS. 
SPEC.   TERMS   BED   AND   BRKFST. 


MARYLEBONE. — The  radiant  weather 
continues,  with  a  complete  absence  of 
Mistrals,  Forms,  Monsoons,  and 
Mizzles.  37,119  visitors  arrived 
yesterday,  by  rail  and  'bus,  etc.,  and 
37,117  departed,  making  an  increase  of 
two. 

The  season,  however,  culminates  in 
April,  when  tho  Cup  Tie  brings 
thousands  of  fashionable  travellers, 
who  find  more  allurement  in  the 
charming  refreshment  resorts  handy  to 
the  Termini  than  in  prolonging  their 
journey  to  Sydenham.  Short  excur- 
sions are  however  numerous,  notably 
to  view  the  monumental  masons'  yards 
in  the  Euston  Eoad. 

H6TEL  TUSSAUD. 
ACCOM.   FOR   CROWNED    HEADS. 

Little  Known  Habits  of  the  Sphinx. 
"But  we  now  know  that,  sphinx-like,  ho 
only  disappeared  to  rise  again." 

Ilanclifster  Evening 


178 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5,  1913. 


ONE   MORE   CHAPTER 

(Being  a  suggested  finale  to  Mr.  G.  K. 
CHESTERTON'*  vivid  and  suggestive 
work,  "  The  Victorian  Age  in  Liter- 
ature "). 

THE  most  curious  and  inspiring 
manifestation  of  the  Victorian  Age 
has  been  left  to  the  last,  but  it  is, 
of  course,  perfectly  obvious  to  the 
simplest  person  that  the  last  is  really 
first.  Until  the  appearance  of  this 
portent,  what  had  been  lacking  in  the 
Victorians  was,  in  a  word,  self-con- 
sciousness. They  were  like  a  huge  and 
prosperous  business  concern  which, 
when  the  end  of  the  year  comes  and 
stock-taking  is  necessary,  has 
no  one  -capable  of  performing 
that  tedious  but  needful  opera- 
tion. They  were  like  a  million- 
aire who  has  no  arithmetic.  The 
money  is  there,  but  he  can- 
not tell  how  much  it  is ;  the 
scrip  is  there,  but  he  does  not 
know  its  value. 

It  is  given  to  some  firms  to  go 
on  quite  happily  without  taking 
stock ;  and  it  is  given  to  some 
millionaires  to  rest  content  with 
dividends  and  make  no  enquiries 
as  to  capital.  But  England  is 
not  always  like  that.  England 
has  a  genius  for  complacency, 
but  it  also  has  a  genius  for 
anxiety.  Its  genius  for  com- 
placency is  fairly  steady;  its 
genius  for  anxiety  is  sporadic. 
Everyone  with  a  grain  of  ob- 
servation must  have  noticed  now 
and  then  that,  in  the  terrible 
slang  of  the  man  on  the  'bus, 
we  get  into  the  grip  of  a  don't- 
know  -  where  -  he  -  are  -  ishness. 
Periodically  this  want  of  direc- 
tion, this  ignorance  of  the 


FRED  BARNARD  (that  neglected  genius) 
of  the  yokel  holding  a  lantern  over  the 
sundial  to  see  the  time.  She  knew 
that  time  was  somewhere  hidden  there, 
but  she  did  not  know  how  to  educe  it. 
Even  more  so,  perhaps,  was  she  like 
a  motor-car  absolute  in  every  part 
and  ready  for  everything  but  with  no 
member  of  the  party  capable  of  acting 
as  chauffeur.  It  was  then  at  that 
critical  moment  that  the  man  arrived, 
forced,  as  foolish  old  TAINE  in  his  only 
wise  remark  expressed  it,  out  of  space 
by  the  sheer  demand  of  his  tune. 

It  was,  in  a  word,  peculiarly  CHES- 
TERTON'S mission  to  explain  and  ac- 
count for.  Every  one  has  heard  of 


the  veil.  It  was  under  CHESTERTON  that 
England  at  last  realised  where  she  was. 
Ho  made  it  all  enormously  clear. 


McSlaughter  (the  great). 


.,.         A.  Worm,  Esq.  (pathetically). 
meaning  of  life,  has  been  terrm-  TO  WIN  A  MATCHj » 

cally  apparent  in  our  little  island, 

but  never  more  so  than  towards  the 
end  of  what  for  convenience  in  this 
book  has  been  called  the  Victorian  Age, 
although  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  really 
salient  thing  about  the  Victorian  Age 
was  its  habit  of  borrowing  from  other 


WELL,  THAT  'B  8  UP  AND  7." 
WHAT  DOES  IT  FEEL  LIKE 


ages. 

At  the  end  of 


that  remarkable  era 


of  poets  with  one  leg  shorter  than  the 
other  a  feeling  of  unrest  came  to  be 
evident,  which  can  be  best  expressed 
by  the  statement  that  England  was 
looking  for  a  prophet,  or  not  perhaps 
so  much  a  prophet  as  a  lamp  or  star 
of  guidance.  Perfectly  equipped  to  go, 
she  was  unaware  of  the  way.  She 
was  like  a  first-class  pedestrian  with 
knapsack  and  staff  all  complete  but  no 
map.  She  was  like  the  captain  of  a 
superb  liner  who  has  lost  his  compass. 
She  was  like  the  inspired  picture  by 


personally-conducted  tours  of  the  world. 
CHESTERTON  was  the  first  and  greatest 
personal  conductor.  With  his  pointer 
in  his  hand  he  accompanied  mankind 
to  every  spot  of  interest  and  made  all 
clear.  He  missed  nothing.  No  scruple 
of  conscience  was  too  minute  for  his 
attention ;  no  cataclysm  of  human  am- 
bition great  enough  to  daunt  him.  By 
his  assistance  the  wayfarer  was  pro- 
vided with  a  new  map,  which  CHES- 
TERTON (who  was  also  an  artist)  rapidly 
drew  from  his  own  head.  By  his 
guidance  the  captain  of  the  liner  re- 
gained an  approximate  ideaof  thewhere- 
abouts  of  the  pole.  But  it  was  CHES- 
TERTON'S special  mission  to  assist  the 
benighted  rustic  by  instructing  him  in 
the  divine  mission  of  the  sun.  For  too 
long  had  the  sun  been  obscure  to  the 
Victorians.  CHESTERTON  drew  aside 


BAG-TIME  AMONG  THE  POETS. 

FAMILIARITY  is  said  to  breed  con- 
tempt. One  hesitates  to  say  that  it  docs 
that  in  the  case  of  the  best  poetry,  but 
it  certainly  rather  dulls  the  edge  of 
pleasure.  In  other  words  we  can  know 
poems  so  well  that  their  freshness 
wears  off.  And  that  is  where  rag-time, 
the  great  antiseptic,  comes  in ;  for  by 
its  aid  all  poetry,  however  trite,  can 
be  made  new.  Take,  for  example, 
SOUTHEY'S  famous  lyric,  "  The  Battle 
-  of  Blenheim."  Most  persons 
are,  perhaps  justly,  tired  of  the 
form  in  which  we  learned  it — • 

"  It  was  a  summer's  evening, 
Old  Kaspar's  work  was  don6," 

and  so  forth.  But  apply  the 
method  of  "  Dixie,"  with  a  little 
help  from  " Everybody's  Doing 
It,"  and  you  get  a  totally  new 
and  invigorating  poem.  Thus : — 

It  was  a  sum- 
It  was  a  sum- 

Mer's  evening,  and  old  Kaspar's  work 
It  was  done,  it  was  done,  it  was  done ; 
And  he  before 
And  he  before 

His  cottage  door  was  sitting  there 
In  the  sun,  in  the  sun,  in  the  sun. 
And  by  him  sported  on  the 
Green,  on  the  green,  on  the  green, 
His  little  little  grandchild,  swoetlrene. 

(The  name  is,  of  course,  Wilhel- 
mine,  but  rag-time  must  have  a 
dissyllabic  Irene  in  it,  every 
time.) 

The  monotony  of  the  stanza 
in  "The  Daffodil  Fields,"  Mr. 
MASEFIELD'S  latest  joy-ride  on 
Pegasus,  has  been  commented 
upon.  With  a  little  skilful 
syncopation  even  that  poem 
might  be  made  cheerful  and 

Try  it. 


bright. 


East  is  East  and  West  is  West. 
"NIGERIAN  DOBBAR 

STRIKING  SPECTACLE  IN  EAST  AFRICA." 
And  this  from  the  high-priest  of  Em- 
pire, The  Pall  Mall  Gazette  I 

The  Salome  craze  seems  to  have 
already  reached  Tasmania,  where,  ac- 
cording to  The  Hobarl  Mercury,  an 
Independent  Candidate  (whose  inde- 
pendence would  appear  to  extend  to 
matters  of  history)  told  the  electorate 
that  "the  Liberal  Government  reminded 
him  of  the  daughter  of  Herodotus,  who 
for  dancing  before  Pilate  asked  as 
reward  for  the  head  of  John  the 
Baptist  on  a  charger."  This  is  one  of 
the  few  good  stories  of  his  day  that 
HERODOTUS  somehow  missed. 


MARCH  5.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


179 


Dear  Old  Lady  (using  call-office  teleplione  for  the  first  lime,  to  operator  at  tlie  Exclumgc). 

ATTENTIVE,    MY    DEAR,    I  'M    PUTTING   AN   EXTBA    PENNT   I»   THB   BOX    FOB   TOUBSELP." 


1  AND  AS  YOU  'VB  BEEN  BO  KICK  AKD 


FOLLOWING    PEECEDENT. 

ENTENTE  -  CORDIALITY  is  in  the  air. 
One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  new  Ameri- 
can President.  Mr.  WOODBOW  WILSON, 
was  to  send  a  friendly  letter  across 
tho  Mexican  border  couched  in  the 
following  terms,  which  seem  to  have 
an  air  of  familiarity  to  us,  we  cannot 
think  how.  It  was  no  fault  of  Presi- 
dent TAPT'S  successor  if  anything  went 
wrong  with  the  document.  We  subjoin 
the  text: — 

MM.  les  Presidents,  great  and  good 
(but  somewhat  too  numerous)  friends,  I 
desire  to  address  to  you  my  congratu- 
lations and  best  wishes  on  the  occasion 
of  your  election  to  the  highest  and  most 
precarious  office  that  your  country  can 
offer,  and  this  I  do  most  heartily  quite 
irrespective  of  the  brevity  of  your  reign. 
Being  desirous  of  adding  a  further  proof 
of  my  sincerity  I  am  pleased  to  confer 
upon  you  my  Order  of  the  Canned  Eagle, 
a  quantity  of  tho  insignia  of  which 
accompanies  this  letter,  sufficient,  I 
hope,  to  go  round.  Accept,  MM.  les 
Presidents,  good  and  great,  if  transitory, 
friends,  the  assurance  of  our  complete 
esteem  and  high  consideration. 

Your  good  Friend,      WOODROW. 


Mr.  WOODROW  WILSON  has  not  as 
yet  received  any  reply,  the  accredited 
reason  being  that  his  letter  occasioned 
such  a  sanguinary  melee  among  the 
addressees  that  no  one  was  left  alive 
to  respond  to  it. 


LATEST    CUCKOO   LOEE. 
(TJie  extraordinarily  early  advent  of  the 
cuckoo  this  year  has  not  escaped  the 
attention  of  Mr.  Punch's  nature  cor- 
respondents.) 

A  VERACIOUS  correspondent  sends  us 
a  remarkable  account  of  the  conduct  of 
a  cuckoo  in  Kew  Gardens.  It  has  been 
observed  on  several  occasions  to  visit 
early  nests  of  thrushes  and  starlings. 
After  each  visit  the  nest  was  found  torn 
in  fragments.  It  is  conjectured  by  our 
correspondent  (an  eminent  naturalist) 
that  tho  female  bird  is  disgusted  that 
the  male  bird  should  alono  enjoy  the 
privilege  of  song  and  feels  that  its  own 
claims  to  equality  of  voico  will  never 
bo  recognised  unless  and  until  it  proves 
them  by  an  exhibition  of  violent  and 
revolutionary  behaviour. 

Mr.  HILAIRB  BELLOO  (the  famous 
Sussex  naturalist)  reports  that  there  is 
an  extraordinary  alteration  in  the  cry 


of  the  cuckoo  this  season.  Instead  of 
its  customary  call  of  "  Cuck-oo,"  every 
time  he  has  heard  it  the  bird  has  said 
"  Jew-jew." 

Our  Bishop's  Waltham  correspondent 
announces  that  the  Smallholders'  Asso- 
ciation of  the  district  are  offering  a 
reward  of  10s.  for  every  dead  cuckoo. 
The  Association  declares  that  the  dam- 
age to  crops  done  by  the  local  hunt  is  in- 
finitesimal compared  with  that  done  by 
photographers,  cinematographers,  and 
newspaper  correspondents  in  pursuit 
of  the  evasive  early  cuckoo.  One 
farmer  complains  that  a  Daily  Mirror 
correspondent,  in  his  endeavours  to  get 
a  snap-shot  of  a  rook  in  the  act  of 
cuckooing,  spoilt  no  less  than  half  an 
acre  of  winter  wheat. 

A  correspondent  writes  from  the 
Army  and  Navy  Club  that  there  is 
only  one  explanation  of  tho  cuckoo's 
early  arrival  this  year.  As  the  air  in 
Franco  and  Germany  is  so  crowded 
with  army  dirigibles  and  aeroplanes 
that  a  cuckoo  cannot  cuck  in  peace,  it 
is  only  natural  that  the  timid  bird 
should  come  to  England,  where  there  is 
not  the  slightest  risk  of  its  nights  being 
checked  by  collision  with  anything  in 
Colonel  SEELY'S  Aerial  department. 


180 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAECH  5,  1913. 


WINTER   SPORT. 

V. — A  TAILING  PABTY. 
THE  procession  prepared  to  start  in 
the  following  order : — 

(1)  A  brace  of  sinister-looking  horses. 

(2)  Gaspard,  the  Last  of  the  Bandits; 
or,   "Why  cause    a    lot    of    talk    by 
pushing  your  rich  uncle  over  the  clift, 
when  you  can  have  him  stabbed  quietly 
for  one  franc  fifty?"    (If  ever  I  were 
in  any  vendetta  business  I  should  pick 
Gaspard  first.) 

(3)  A  sleigh  full  of  lunch. 

(4)  A  few   well-known    ladies    and 
gentlemen   (being    the   cream   of    the 
Hotel  des  Angeliques)  on  luges ;  namely, 
reading  from  left   to  right  (which  is 
really  the  best  method  —  unless  you 
are    translating    Hebrew),    Simpson, 
Archie,  Dahlia,  Myra,  me,  Miss  Cardew 
and  Thomas. 

While  Gaspard  was  putting  the  finish- 
ing knots  to  the  luges,  I  addressed  a 
few  remarks  to  Miss  Cardew,  fearing 
that  she  might  be  feeling  a  little  lonely 
amongst  us.  I  said  that  it  was  a 
lovely  day,  and  did  she  think  the  snow 
would  hold  off  till  evening?  Also  had 
she  ever  done  this  sort  of  thing  before? 
I  forget  what  her  answers  were. 

Thomas  meanwhile  was  exchanging 
badinage  on  the  hotel  steps  with  Miss 
Aylwyn.  There  must  be  something 
peculiar  in  the  Swiss  air,  for  in  England 
Thomas  is  quite  a  respectable  man".  .  . 
and  a  godfather. 

"  I  suppose  we  have  asked  the  right 
one,"  said  Myra  doubtfully. 

"  His  young  affections  are  divided. 
There  was  a  third  girl  in  pink  with 
whom  he  breakfasted  a  lot  this  morning. 
It  is  the  old  tradition  of  the  sea,  you 
know.  A  sailor — I  mean  an  Admiralty 
civilian  has  a  wife  at  every  wireless 
station." 

"  Take  your  seats,  please,"  said  Archie. 
"  The  horses  are  sick  of  waiting." 

We  sat  down.  Archie  took  Dahlia's 
feet  on  his  lap,  Myra  took  mine,  Miss 
Cardew  took  Thomas's.  Simpson,  alone 
in  front,  nursed  a  guide-book. 

"  En  avant  !  "  cried  Simpson  in  his 
best  French  -  taught-  in  -  twelve  -  lessons 
accent. 

Gaspard  muttered  an -oath  to  his 
animals.  They  pulled  bravely.  The 
rope  snapped — and  they  trotted  gaily 
down  the  hill  with  Gaspard. 

We  hurried  after  them  with  the 
luges.  .  .  . 

"  It 's  a  good  joke,"  said  Archie,  after 
this  had  happened  three  times,  "but, 
personally  I  weary  of  it.  Miss  Cardew, 
I'm  afraid  we've  brought  you  out 
under  false  pretences.  Thomas  didn't 
explain  the  thing  to  you  adequately. 
He  gave  you  to  understand  that  there 
was  more  in  it  than  this." 


Gaspard,  who  seamed  full  of  rope, 
produced  a  fourth  piece  and  tied  a  knot 
that  made  oven  Simpson  envious. 

"  Now,  Samuel,"  I  begged,  "  do  keep 
the  line  taut  this  time.  Why  do  you 
suppose  we  put  your  apricot  suit  right 
in  the  front?  Is  it,  do  you  suppose, 
for  the  sunset  effects  at  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  or  is  it  that  you  may 
look  after  the  rope  properly  ?  " 

"  I  'm  awfully  sorry,  Miss  Cardew," 
said  Simpson,  feeling  that  somebody 
ought  to  apologise  for  something  and 
knowing  that  Gaspard  wouldn't,  "  but 
I  expect  it  will  be  all  right  now." 

We  settled  down  again.  Once  more 
Gaspard  cursed  his  horses,  and  once 
more  they  started  off  bravely.  And 
this  time  we  went  with  them. 

"  The  idea  all  along,"  I  explained  to 
Miss  Cardew. 

"  I  rather  suspected  it,"  she  said. 
Apparently  she  has  a  suspicious  mind. 

After  the  little  descent  at  the  start, 
we  went  uphill  slowly  for  a  couple  of 
miles,  and  then  more  rapidly  over  the 
level.  We  had  driven  over  the  same 
road  in  a  sleigh,  coming  from  the 
station,  and  had  been  bitterly  cold  and 
extremely  bored.  Why  our  present  posi- 
tion should  be  so  much  more  enjoyable 
I  didn't  quite  see. 

"  It 's  the  expectation  of  an  accident," 
said  Archie.  "  At  any  moment  some- 
body may  fall  off.  Good." 

"  My  dear  old  chap,"  said  Simpson, 
turning  round  to  take  part  in  the  con- 
versation, "  why  anybody  should  fall 
off " 

We  went  suddenly  round  a  corner, 
and  quietly  and  without  any  fuss  what- 
ever Simpson  left  his  luge  and  rolled 
on  to  the  track.  Luckily  any  possi- 
bility of  a  further  accident  was  at  once 
avoided.  There  was  no  panic  at  all. 
Archie  kicked  the  body  temporarily  out 
of  the  way;  after  which  Dahlia  leant 
over  and  pushed  it  thoughtfully  to  the 
side  of  the  road.  Myra  warded  it  off 
with  a  leg  as  she  neared  it ;  with  both 
hands  I  helped  it  into  the  deep  snow 
from  which  it  had  shown  a  tendency  to 
emerge ;  Miss  Cardew  put  a  foot  out  at 
it  for  safety ;  and  Thomas  patted  it 
gently  on  the  head  as  the  end  of  the 
"  tail "  went  past.  .  .  . 

As  soon  as  we  had  recovered  our 
powers  of  speech — all  except  Miss 
Cardew,  who  was  in  hysterics — we 
called  upon  Gaspard  to  stop.  He  indi- 
cated with  the  back  of  his  neck  that  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  stop  just  then  ; 
and  it  was  not  until  we  were  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill,  nearly  a  mile  from 
the  place  whore  Simpson  left  us,  that 
the  procession  halted,  and  gave  itself  up 
again  to  laughter. 

"  I  hope  he  is  not  hurt,"  said  Dahlia, 
wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 


"  He  wouldn't  spoil  a  good  joke  like 
that  by  getting  hurt,"  said  Myra  con- 
fidently. "  He 's  much  too  much  of 
a  sportsman." 

"  Why  did  he  do  it  ?  "  said  Thomas. 

"  He  suddenly  remembered  he  hadn't 
packed  his  safety-razor.  He 's  half- 
way back  to  the  hotel  by  now." 

Miss  Cardew  remained  in  hysterics. 

Ten  minutes  later  a  brilliant  sunset 
was  observed  approaching  from  the 
north.  A  little  later  it  was  seen  to  be 
a  large  dish  of  apricots  and  cream. 

"  He  draws  near,"  said  Archie.  "  Now 
then,  let 's  be  stern  with  him." 

At  twenty  yards'  range,  Simpson 
began  to  talk.  His  trot  had  heated 
him  slightly. 

"I  say,"  he  said  excitedly.  "You — 

Myra  shook  her  head  at  him. 

"  Not  done,  Samuel,"  she  said  re- 
proachfully. 

"  Not  what,  Myra  ?    What  not — 

"  You  oughtn't  to  leave  us  like  that 
without  telling  us." 

"After  all,"  said  Archie,  "we  are  all 
one  party,  and  we  are  supposed  to  keep 
together.  If  you  prefer  to  go  about  by 
yourself,  that 's  all  right ;  but  if  we  go 
to  the  trouble  of  arranging  something 
for  the  whole  party — 

"  You  might  have  caused  a  very 
nasty  accident,"  I  pointed  out.  "If  you 
were  in  a  hurry,  you  had  only  to  say 
a  word  to  Gaspard  and  he  would  have 
stopped  for  you  to  alight.  Now  I  begin 
to  understand  why  you  kept  cutting  the 
rope  at  the  start." 

"  You  have  sent  Miss  Cardew  into 
hysterics  by  your  conduct,"  said  Dahlia. 

Miss  Cardew  gave  another  peal. 
Simpson  looked  at  her  in  dismay. 

"  I  say,  Miss  Cardew,  I  'in  most 
awfully  sorry.  I  really  didn't —  -  I 
say,  Dahlia,"  he  went  on  confidentially, 
"  oughtn't  we  to  do  something  about 
this?  Hub  her  feet  with  snow  or — I 
mean,  I  know  there 's  something  you  do 
when  people  have  hysterics.  It 's  rather 
serious  if  they  go  on.  Don't  you  burn 
feathers  under  their  nose  ?  "  He  began 
to  feel  in  his  pockets.  "  I  wonder  if 
Gaspard 's  got  a  feather  ?  " 

With  a  great  effort  Miss  Cardew 
pulled  herself  together.  "  It 's  all  right, 
thank  you,"  she  said  in  a  stifled  voice. 

"  Then  let 's  get  on,"  said  Archie. 

We  resumed  our  seats  once  more. 
Archie  took  Dahlia's  feet  on  his  lap. 
Myra  took  mine.  Miss  Cardew  took 
Thomas's.  Simpson  clung  tight  to  his 
luge  with  both  hands. 

"  Eight !  "  cried  Archie. 

Gaspard  swore  at  his  horses.  They 
pulled  bravely.  The  rope  snapped — 
and  they  trotted  gaily  up  the  hill  with 
Gaspard. 

We  hurried  after  them  with  the; 
luges.  ...  A.  A.  M. 


MARCH  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CIIARIVAIM. 


181 


DISAPPEARING    GENTLEMEN. 

THE  DAILY  MAIL'S  "  own  correspon- 
dent" afc  Rome  relates  in  a  recent  issue 
the  strange  experience  of  a  generous 
Canadian  rejoicing  in  the  name  of 
Gaway.  While  he  was  visiting  the 
Forum  a  man,  who  appeared  to  be 
an  Englishman,  approached  him  and 
entered  into  conversation : — 

"  The  stranger  said  ho  was  going  to 
be  received  by  the  Pope,  to  whom  ho 
had  to  present  a  sum  of  money,  but 
that  he  had  not  the  full  amount  in  his 
possession.  The  Canadian  lent  him 
£100,  whereupon  the  stranger  disap- 
peared." 

On  communicating  with  our  own 
correspondents  in  several  other  capitals, 
we  have  been  able  to  obtain  evidence 
of  several  other  cases  in  which  the 
superb  confidence  and  generosity  of  the 
representatives  of  the  Dominions  are 
worthy  of  at  least  equal  note.  Thus,  a 
New  Zealander  named  Googley  was 
standing  on  the  Rialto  the  day  before 
yesterday,  when  a  man,  who  appeared 
to  be  a  Scotsman,  engaged  him  in 
conversation.  The  stranger  informed 
Googley  that  he  was  about  to  have 
an  audience  of  the  Doge  of  Venice,  to 
whom  he  had  to  present  a  purse  of 
50,000  sovereigns  from  the  Italian  com- 
munity resident  in  Portobello,  Scot- 
land. As  he  was  unfortunately  £5,000 
short,  the  New  Zealander  promptly  lent 
him  that  sum,  whereupon  the  canny 
Caledonian  vanished  into  thin  air. 

A  wealthy  Newfoundlander  named 
McJuggins,  who  has  recently  been 
visiting  St.  Petersburg,  was  accosted  a 
few  days  ago  by  what  appeared  to  be 
a  Manxman.  In  the  course  of  an 
animated  conversation  the  Manxman 
explained  that  he  had  come  all  the  way 
from  the  Isle  of  Man  to  engage  in  a 
three-legged  race  with  the  TSAR  against 
two  of  the  most  notorious  Grand  Dukes. 
Unluckily  he  had  not  enough  money  in 
his  possession  to  pay  for  the  regulation 
costume  enjoined  by  the  Procurator  of 
the  Holy  Synod — viz.,  "  shorts "  of 
cloth  of  gold  and  a  jersey  embroidered 
with  precious  stones.  McJuggins  at 
once  agreed  to  lend  him  a  quantity  of 
uncut  jewels,  which  the  Manxman 
promised  to  return  after  the  race,  but, 
strange  to  say,  he  has  not  been  heard 
of  since.  On  enquiry  at  the  Imperial 
Palace  at  Tsarsko  Seloe,  McJuggins 
was  assured  that  no  such  contest  was 
in  prospect  or  indeed  had  ever  been 
contemplated  by  any  member  of  the 
Romanoff  family. 

A  South  Australian  named  Swallow 
was  recently  visiting  the  Acropolis  at 
Athens,  when  a  total  stranger,  who  in 
dress,  accent  and  demeanour  appeared 
to  be  a  perfect  Welsh  gentleman,  came 


PERFIDIOUS    MAN. 

Constable.  "Wail's  THE  MATTER,  SIB?    SUFFRAGETTES  BEEN  A-TAMPERIN'  WITH  YOU* 

LOCK?" 

Belated  Reveller.  "No,  I  DID  IT  MYSELF,  BUT  THE  LITTLE  DEARS  ABE  GOING  TO— TO 

GET  THE   BLAME  FOR  MY  BEING   BO  LATE,   WHAT?" 


up  and  asked  his  assistance.  He  had 
obtained  a  concession  to  erect  a  beauti- 
ful week-end  bungalow  on  the  Plains  of 
Marathon  for  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE,  but 
unless  he  could  deposit  £10,000  with 
the  Greek  Government  that  day  the 
option  would  lapse.  Mr.  Swallow  at 
once  furnished  the  sum,,  whereupon  the 
stranger,  genially  observing  "a  man 
with  a  name  like  yours  is  capable  of 
anything,"  suddenly  became  invisible 
and  has  not  yet  been  discovered  by  the 
Athenian  police. 


Impending   Apology  to  Lord 
Kitchener's  Cook. 

"  CAIRO,  Tuesday  Night. 
Kiamil  Pasha  dined  with  Lord  Kitchener  to- 
night.— Central  News. 

A  report  was  widely  circulated  yesterday 
that  Kiamil  Pasha  was  dead." 

Daily  Telegraph, 


"  He  is  a  ruler  of  a  type  which  most  of  us 
supposed  had  become  as  extinct  as  the  dado." 
Daily  Colonist  (B.C.). 

As  the  antimacassar,  anyway. 


182 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5,  1913. 


I  'LL  TELL  YOU  WHAT   IT  li, 


Socialist  Demagogue.  "THE  EMPIRE,  FORSOOTH!     AND  WHAT'S  THAT,  I  SHOULD  LIKE  TO  KNOW. 

BROTHERS  AND  SISTERS',  THE   EMPIRE  'B  AN  INVENTION  OF  THE  TOEIES  I  " 


THE 

(Golf  will  appear  for  the  first  time 

FKTTKRS  of  sloth  hang  round  and  hobble  U3, 

Swiftly  the  webs  are  spun ; 
Scarce  have  we  time  ere  the  spiders  gobble  ua 
To  utter  "  Jack  Eobinson." 

Chief  of  our  shames,  we  have  lost  our  claims 
To  excel  the  world  at  Olympic  Games ; 
We  are  heirs  no  more  to  the  old  Discobolus ; 
"We  can  neither  leap  nor  run. 


LAST    STAND. 

in  the  Olympic  Games'  programme  for  1916.) 

When  lo !  like  a  sun-burst  seen  through  vapour 

As  a  three-days'  fog  clears  off, 
I  found  this  par  in  my  morning  paper, 
"  Hellas  embraces  golf  "  : 

German  and  Yank,  you  may  keep  your  swank 
With  the  quivering  lath  and  the  diver's  tank. 
But  who  shall  best  o'er  the  bunker  caper, 
And  joust  in  the  sand-filled  trough  ? 


Where,  ah  where  shall  we  seek  asylum  ? 

How  shall  we  gild  again, 
Fallen  and  tarnished  deep,  the  whilom 
Coronals  ?     Frank  and  Dane 

Filch  from  our  brows  the  olive  boughs ; 
Sprinters  we  have,  but  they  halt  like  cows ; 
And  as  for  our  chess  and  our  chucking  the  pilum — 
Ah,  stop  I    It  is  too  much  pain. 

Tims  did  I  muse,  and  my  heart  debated 

Sadly  about  Berlin ; 

Here,  1  thought,  shall  the  lease  undated 
Of  Albion's  prido  fall  in  1 

We  shall  gain  no  goal,  I  said  to  my  soul, 
We  shall  fall  at  the  foot  of  the  greased  Pole, 
Wo  shall  bow  our  heads  to  the  Czech,  checkmated, 
We  shall  yield  the  palm  to  the  Finn. 


None,  I  think,  but  the  loved  of  Heaven 

Whose  path  is  the  ancient  green, 
Whose  hearts  are  buoyed  with  the  sea-dogs'  leavon, 
Whose  brand  is  the  iron  keen ; 

Only  the  race  with  the  brassio  faco 
That  follow  the  spheres  in  a  long,  stern  chase, 
Tli  at  still  putt  out  as  the  tars  of  Devon 
Put  out  to  the  Spaniard's  teen. 

Here  (so  carry  our  drives,  O  Castor, 

Pollux  our  chip-shots  eke) 
I  will  wager  a  crown  to  a  mere  piastre 
That  Teuton  and  Gaul  and  Greek 

And  the  far-away  Japs  and  the  sledge-borno  Lapp 
Shall  fall  to  our£!h(s-four  handicaps, 
And  the  god  shall  fasten  the  oleaster 

To  the  blade  of  a  British  cleek.  EVOB. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MARCH  6,  1913. 


THE    MAJESTY    OF    THE    LAW. 


MARCH  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


185 


Child.  "Gora"  SHOPPIN',  MUWEB?" 

Child.  "GoiN"  BHOPPIN'  DOWN  RYE  LANE,  MUWEB?" 


Mother.  "Yus,  DEABIE." 

Mother.  "No,  DEARIE;    MOTHER  ISN'T  DRESSED  FOB  EYE  LANE." 


TEMPOEAEY  COMPANIONS. 

["Wanted,  at  once,  as  temporary  compan- 
ion."—^^.] 

ARE  you  lonely?  Are  you  going  a 
journey?  Are  you  bored,  or  busy,  or 
cross?  If  so,  ring  up  Mayfair  000123 
and  state  your  wants ;  we  will  supply 
them. 

The  subjoined  is  only  a  small  selection 
from  what  we  can  do.  If  you  don't  see 
what  you  need  in  the  catalogue,  ring  us 
up  and  say  so. 

SECTION  I. — TRAVEL  DEPARTMENT. 

Companions  for  any  length  of  journey, 
from  Euston  to  Willesden,  from  Put- 
ney to  Pekin.  Good  conversationalists 
(better  than  the  most  engrossing  rail- 
way novel)  always  on  hand.  Also  a 
special  line  for  those  who  prefer  taci- 
turnity. Sitters-opposite,  with  faces 
that  do  not  irritate.  The  longest  and 
most  tiresome  journey  a  pleasure. 

In  ordering,  kindly  state  whether 
companion  is  wanted  draught-proof  or 
capable  of  resisting  asphyxia  from 
tightly-closed  windows. 

Are  you  a  bad  sailor  ?  Our  chatty 
Channelites  banish  sea-sickness  more 
effectually  than  drugs. 


SECTION  II. — SOCIAL. 
To  those  about  to  settle  in  a  new 
neighbourhood.  Eemember  the  im- 
portance of  first  impressions.  Our  Visit- 
ing Companions  will  see  you  through 
this  trying  ordeal.  Sent  down  on  re- 
ceipt of  wire  for  any  period,  from  a 
week-end  upwards.  Fit  and  Finish 
guaranteed.  Take  one  of  our  Com- 
panions with  you  when  returning  your 
first  calls.  The  result  will  surprise  you. 

SECTION  III. — POLITICAL. 
Companions  of  all  shades  of  opinion 
can  be  forwarded  at  a  moment's  notice. 
Enormous  success  of  our  new  speciality 
— the  Feeble  Opponents.  A  child  could 
convince  them  I  Try  one  for  your  father 
or  husband.  Ill-temper  a  thing  of  the 
past.  A  grateful  client  writes : — "  You 
deserve  the  blessing  of  every  woman 
who  has  learnt  to  dread  the  very 
mention  of  politics.  Since  I  heard  of 
your  Convertible  Land-Taxers,  home 
has  been  a  different  place.  Please  send 
me  another  half-dozen,  as  those  we  had 
were  all  used  on  the  morning  after 
Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  last  speech. 

What  about  those  boring  Relations  ? 


Let  us  deal  with  them  for  you.  Our 
Companions  in  this  department  receive 
the  oldest  story  with  peals  of  unforced 
merriment.  Uncle's  visit  over  before 
you  know  it  1 

Many  other  varieties  to  select  from. 
Purse-holders  for  Sales.  (Ladies  safe- 
guarded through  the  most  tempting 
shops,  and  only  allowed  to  purchase 
articles  of  which  they  are  in  actual 
need.  A  long-felt  want!)  Also  our 
Fourteenths  at  Table,  Theatre  Com- 
panions (Thrilled,  Amused,  or  Critical — 
state  variety  required),  and  a  thousand 
others. 

Write  to-day ! 


"DB.  MABIE'S  LECTURES 

'  THE  BACKGROUND  OP  FACE  '  READ  AT 

IMPERIAL  UNIVERSITY." 

Japan  Times. 
We    find    that    a    three-and-sixpenny 
green  felt  shows  ours  up  best. 


From  a  calendar : — • 

1 '  O  that  a  man  might  know 
The  end  of  this  day's  business  ere  it  comes ! 
Troilus  ii  Cressida,  iii.  3." 
O  that  a  man  might  know  the  end  of 
Julius  Ccesar  (v.  1) ! 


186 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5,  1913. 


FORCED   CARDS. 

I  USUALLY  defend  myself  by  claiming 
that  my  mind  isn't  built  for  learning 
card  games.  I  have  cynical  friends 
who  say,  "  Why  drag  in  card  games  ?  " 
but,  of  course,  they  exaggerate.  My 
rnind  is  equal  to  any  amount  of 
politics,  law,  and  finance.  The  moment 
I  sit  down  at  a  little  green  table,  how- 
ever, I  am  chastened,  shamed,  publicly 
humiliated. 

It  usually  happens  like  this.  Sup- 
pose it  is  evening.  I  arn  tired,  and  I 
sit  down  with  the  relish  of 
the  tired  business  man  who 
has  been  sitting  down  all 
day.  I  pick  up  a  book  or  a 
newspaper  or  a  time-table, 
and  muse  over  it.  Just  as  I 
begin  to  enjoy  myself  com- 
fortably, in  rush  Ruth  and 
Alice  and  Jack. 

"  Come  on,  Uncle,  join  us 
at  Snitch  I "  they  cry,  and 
flock  about  me. 

"  Is  it  a  restaurant  ?  " 

"  No,  it  'a  something  like 
Double  Dummy  Mumps,  only 
faster." 

Instantly  I  perceive  their 
meaning.  They  mean  cards. 
I  am  not  so  easy. 

"  1  don't  know  it.  Never 
played  it.  I  am  very  sorry, 
but  my  experience  in  such 
games  is  very  lim — •— " 

"  That  doesn't  make  any 
difference."  they  cry.  "  We 
can  teach  you." 

"  You  can't."  I  state  this 
with  certainty.  "It's  been 
attempted." 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  can.  You  '11 
get  it  all  in  a  second.  Why, 
it's  one  of  the  simplest 
games." 

Wearily  I  lay  down  the 
paper.  There  is  no  hope. 
All  is  lost.  We  wake  a 
sleeping  card-table  in  the  corner  of 
the  room,  set  it  on  its  unwilling  feet, 
and  sit  down  about  it.  Alice  produces 
a  huge  pack  of  cards  and  hands  them  to 
Jack,  who  proceeds  to  arrange  and  disar- 
range them  in  a  purposeless  sort  of  way. 

"  Now  explain  the  game,  please,"  I 
venture.  "  How  do  you  play  ?  " 

"The  idea,"  says  Jack,  "is  not  to 
get  sevens.  And  of  course  the  Ace  of 
Diamonds  counts  ten." 

This  is  the  way  such  people  always 
begin. 

"  Yes,  but  what  do  I  do  ?  Do  I  hand 
the  cards  to  my  partner,  or  put  them 
on  the  table,  or  stuff  them  ono  by  one 
into  my  pockets,  or  just  put  them  in 
piles  ?  And  what  happens  to  the  pile 
in  the  middle  of  the  table  ?  " 


There  is  a  general  sigh  of  weariness 
about  the  table.  "Oh,  you'll  see 
in  a  minuto  when  you've  started 
playing." 

I  wait  impatiently  and  apprehen- 
sively. Presently  I  find  myself  with 
about  a  dozen  cards  in  my  hands.  On 
the  backs  are  some  very  pretty  pictures, 
representing  Sir  WALTEB  RALEIGH 
(brown  and  black)  before  Windsor 
Castle  (mostly  black)  throwing  a  brown 
cloak  into  a  black  puddle,  while  QUEEN 
ELIZABETH  (brown),  followed  by  brown 
gentlewomen,  steps  all  over  it.  As  an 


First  Bluejacket.  "  I  OFFES  WONDEKS,  BILL,  WHY  PABSONB 

WBAB8  THBIB  OOLLAB8    OOIN'    ASTERS." 


example  of  economy  in  art,  the  thing  is 
admirable. 

"  Hurry  up,  Uncle,"  says  Ruth 
severely.  "  It 's  your  turn." 

I  am  dazed. 

"  What  do  I  do  ?  " 

"  Play  any  three  cards." 

"  How  do  you  mean  '  play '  ?  Do  I 
put  them  down  somewhere  ?  " 

"  Yea,  on  the  table." 

I  do  so. 

"  No,  no !  Not  face  up  I " 

I  reverse  them. 

"  No !  Don't  you  see  that  now  we 
know  what  they  are?  Play  three 
more." 

I  do  so. 

"  Now  take  back  the  three  you  played 
first." 


I   do  so,   and  breathe   again.     The 
game  goes  on. 

But    my    respite   is    short.      In    a 
moment  they  are  after  me  again.     I  am 
frozen  with  terror.     My  hands  shako. 
"  What  do  I  do  ?  " 

"Put  down  three  more.  No,  not 
there  .  .  .  over  herel  Good."  There 
is  a  murmur  of  applause.  But  Alice 
has  been  looking  over  my  shoulder,  "  to 
help  me,"  as  she  explains  it.  She  gasps. 
"  Good  heavens,  you  played  the  Queen 
of  Sheba  I "  she  cries  to  a  horrified 
audience.  "Never  mind,  Uncle.  We 
shan't  count  it  this  lime." 
Her  tone  is  indulgent.  "  You 
couldn't  be  expected  to  know 
that  it  counts  thirty  against 
you." 

The  next  time  my  turn 
comes  round  my  heart  is  in 
my  boots.  I  play  three  cards. 
Alice  watches  me  again. 

"  No,  Uncle,  not  those 
cards  .  .  .  no,  no,  not  that 
one  ....  Haven't  you  even 
got  them  sorted?  Now  dis- 
card. No,  not  into  your 
pocket.  No,  not  under  the 
table  ....  There  .  .  .  that's 
right  .  .  .  No,  here  I  Now 
play  three  ....  No,  not 
those  .  .  .  there ! " 

So  the  game  progresses. 
I  am  led  as  the  blind.  At 
last  the  process  ends,  the 
scores  are  added.  I  am 
minus  eighty-three.  I  am 
miserable. 

"  You  did  beautifully, " 
they  all  assure  me  in  chorus. 
You'll  learn  the  game  in 
another  jitfy.  Don't  you 
think  it's  fun?  Now  for 
another." 

Quietly  but  resolutely  I 
rise  to  my  feet.  "I  am 
very  sorry,"  I  say.  "I 
have  a  headache,  or  some- 
thing. I  regret  that  I  can- 
not join  you  in  another  round.  The 
subject  is  a  painful  one.  Good  night." 


"  Lostwithiel  was  easy-going  in  a  general 
way.  but  when  he  did  put  his  foot  down  upon 
any  point  ha  was  immovable." 

Family  Herald. 

Thus  differing  from  us,  who  are  particu- 
larly mobile  on  such  occasions. 

Life's  Little  Tragedies. 
"  But  to  claim  thai  because  a  sprinter  can 
cover  a  hundred  yards  ID    ten    seconds,   that 
therefore  he  can  accomplish  a  speed  of  hotter 
than  three  miles  an  hour,  is  to  t:ilk  nonsense." 
Sheffield  Independent. 

It  is  pathetic  that,  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  was  about  to  crush  his  oppo- 
nent, the  writer  should  have  been  let 
down  by  a  careless  compositor. 


MARCH  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


187 


LEAK 


Village  Orator  (seconding  a  proposition  for  the  repair  of  the  reading-room  roof).  "  I 
i  VEBY  BAD.    ESPECIALLY  is  THIS  NOTICEABLE  IN  WET  WEATHER." 


THINK  YOU  'LL  ALL  AGREE  THAT  THE  HOOF  DOES 


THE    REVIVAL, 

AWAKE,  my  Muse ;  0  idle  Muse,  awake. 

There  was  a  time,  and  not  so  long  ago, 
When  we  habitually  did  betake, 

From  morn's  young  flush  till  dinner's  tardy  glow, 
Ourselves  to  song :  when  we  went  near  to  break 

All  records  with  a  fine  unfailing  flow, 
So  full,  so  pure,  that  people  wondered  how 
We  did  it — as  I  sometimes  wonder  now. 

Delia  it  was  that  then  controlled  our  song, 
Delia  that  ruled  our  most  surpassing  lays ; 

Her  charms  that  swept  us,  so  to  speak,  along 
As  on  a  wave.     In  such  a  maiden's  praise 

The  veriest  idiot  could  not  go  far  wrong, 

So  fair  was  she.     Why,  in  that  goodly  phase, 

We  did  our  piece  per  diem ;  once,  by  heaven, 

In  one  triumphant  burst  we  managed  seven. 

0  Inspiration,  never  have  I  known 

Aught  to  compare  with  that  imperious  prime. 

Her  (fair)  hair  sang  itself ;  her  eyes  alone 
(Blue,  luckily)  were  pools  of  various  rhyme. 

On  these  and  on  her  figure  (all  her  own) 
We  sang  magnificently  till,  as  I  "m 

A  sinner,  she  remarked  that  she  could  not 

Stand  any  more — which  chilled  me  like  a  shot. 

For  Delia,  though  too  late  we  learned  it,  lacked 
One  charm  for  want  of  which  all  charms  are  vain ; 

The  very  music  which  one  might  have  backed 
To  sweeten  lemons  filled  her  heart  with  pain. 


It  was  a  crushing  blow.     In  point  of  fact, 

I  made  a  dark  oath  not  to  sing  again, 
But  put  my  songs  away  and  in  my  throes 
Vowed  my  snubbed  soul  thenceforth  to  dullest  prose. 

But  now  again  there  rises  in  my  breast 

A  quickening  zeal  to  sing  the  long  day  through ; 

I  think  I  feel  the  better  for  the  rest. 

Then  wake !     We  need  not  tackle  aught  that 's  new. 

Our  Delia's  old  collection,  if  redrest 

And  slightly  altered  here  and  there,  will  do. 

'Tis  Araminta  now  that  rules  our  lay, 

A  better  girl  than  Delia,  any  day.  DuM-DuM. 


"  TOBY  PABTY  SPLIT  OVEB  BONAB  LAW. 

It  would  appear  that  tho  I  lunar  Law  as  an  issue  has  been  discredited 
and  that  it  will  be  abandoned  by  the  party  as  an  active  measure." 

Manila  Daily  Bulletin. 

Mr.  BONAR  LAW  has  had  hard  things  said  of  him  by  his 
opponents  at  home,  but  until  this  outburst  in  the  Philippines, 
no  one,  not  even  his  worst  enemies,  had  ever  referred  to  him 
as  an  "  issue  "  or  an  "  active  measure." 


From  a  list  of  prices  in  an  Evesham  cinema  palace : — 

"Fantails.     One  shilling." 
Ordinary  pigeons,  sixpence. 

"SLIPS  THAT  LOST  GOALS. 

How  HULL  CITY  WON  AT  CRAVEN  COTTAGE. 
Fulham  ..0  Hull  City  ..  0" 

Daily  Chronicle. 

Apparently  one  of  the  "  slips  "  that  lost  Hull  City  some 
goals  was  due  to  the  printer. 


138 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5,  1913. 


A    SUFFRAGE    COMEDIETTA. 

SHE  was  going  round  selling  The 
Militant  and  making  converts,  and  she 
was  shown  in  just  as  I  was  .busy  over 
the  housekeeping  books,  after  break- 
fust.  She  was  young  and  pretty  and 
tailor-built. 

"I'm  Maud  Timmins,"  she  began 
(sho  had  a  charming  smile) ;  "  I  daresay 
you  've  heard  of  me?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  think  I  have.  But 
—are  you  really  a  Suff  ?  1  didn't  know 
any  of  you  were  like  you!  I  had  a 
notion  of  spectacles  and  goloshes,  you 
know,  and  a  forty-five-inch  waist." 

She  laughed.  "Oh,  well,  we  have 
some  dear  devoted  women  who  are 
perhaps  a  little  in  that  way.  But,  for 
making  converts,  we  find  we  must 
employ  youth  and  charm  and  bright- 
ness ;  that 's  why  I  want  you  !  " 

"  It 's  awfully  sweet  of  you  to  say 
so"  (that's  me  talking),  "but  my  time 
is  simply  frightfully  full — what  with 
social  engagements,  acting  as  Papa's 
housekeeper,  and  preparing  for  iny 
marriage  in  three  months'  time." 

Her  face  grew  beautifully  serious. 
"  But  there 's  a  higher  part  of  you  that 
wants  something  higher  than  all  this— 
that  wants  a"  Vote !  " 

"  Oh,"  I  replied,  "  I  shall  liave  a  vote 
when  I  'm  married !  Jack  will  vote 
exactly  as  I  tell  him." 

She  held  up  her  hand  reprovingly. 
"  With  that  brow,  it 's  no  use  trying  to 
hide  your  higher  self.  Doesn't  your 
heart  throb  when  you  hear  of  the  great 
Woman's  Movement  ?  " 

I  said  it  hadn't  throbbed  up  to  now. 
"And  as  for  my  brow,"  I  went  on, 
"  please,  please  don't  look  at  it !  My 
hair  isn't  really  properly  done  yet." 

Well,  she  talked  and  talked,  and 
before  she  left  she  'd  made  me  promise 
to  go  to  a  great  meeting  the  next  night. 
"  Our  glorious  Claribel  is  to  speak ! " 
she  told  me. 

"But  I  thought  she  was  abroad?" 
I  said. 

"  Supposed  to  be,"  she  answered. 
"But  she's  just  getting  herself  smug- 
gled across  the  Channel  in  a  big  pack- 
ing-case marked '  Explosives.'  Isn't  she 
grand  ?  " 

****** 

I  've  been  to  the  meeting.  It  was 
Jack's  evening  for  coming,  but  I  couldn't 
help  that.  It  was  splendid !  Maud  Tim- 
mins looked  sweet  in  pink  cachemire- 
de-soie.  She  sat  by  me  for  a  time  and 
told  me  who  was  who.  There  was 
Mary  Holmes,  who  managed  to  get 
into  the  House  of  Commons  and  tied 
herself  to  the  SPEAKER'S  chair;  and 
there  was  Grace  Clutterbuck,  with  her 
arm  in  a  sling  (in  reaching  up  to  slap 
a  policeman  she  grazed  her  poor  deal 


hand  against  his  horrid  hard  helmet !), 
and  lots  of  other  heroines.  And  when 
the  famous  Claribel  appeared  on  the 
platform,  oh  there  was  such  clapping 
and  cheering !  And  when  sho  told  us 
what  it  felt  like  to  cross  the  Channel  in  a 
big  packing-case  marked  "  Explosives  " 
wo  all  stood  up  and  screamed,  and 
seven  ladies  were  carried  out  choking ! 

When  I  got  home  I  found  Papa  and 
Jack  smoking  together. 

"  I  'm  one  of  them  !  "  I  cried.  "  I  've 
joined  the  W.  S.  P.  U.  Hero  are  my 
sash  and  badge  and  card  of  member- 
ship !  Oh,  it  was  so  splendid  to-night ! 
Claribel  is  so  grand,  and  Maud  Timmins 
is  so  sweet,  and  they  're  all  such  brave, 
determined  darlings  !  And  I  felt  such 
a  poor  worm  among  them,  never  having 
broken  anything  or  burnt  anything  or 
been  in  prison." 

Jack  looked  glum,  and  Papa  sighed 
and  said,  "  You  've  been  happy  enough 
up  to  now,  Kitty,  without  a  vote." 

"This  is  not  a  question  of  happiness, 
Papa,"  I  told  him.  "  It 's  a  question 
of  righting  a  wrong — of  abolishing 
an  injustice — of  doing  something  I 
can't  remember  to  a  thing  I've  for- 


gotten  " 

Papa  burst  out  laughing  and  I  turned 
away.     "  I  don't  expect  sympathy  in 
the  matter  from  you,  Papa,"  I  said, 
but  I  don't  despair  of  making  Jack 
see  eye  to  eye  with  me." 

:|:  *  *  #  *  * 

Jack  sees  eye  to  eye  with  me,  and 
I  could  wish  it  might  stop  there.  I  've 
taken  him  to  several  meetings,  and  he 's 
even  more  enthusiastic  now  than  I  am. 
I  've  introduced  him  to  Maud  Timmins, 
and  she 's  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to 
him.  I  don't  think  I  like  her  quite 
so  much  as  I  did.  Jack  simply  raves 
about  her.  "  She 's  a  ripper !  "  he  said 
yesterday.  "  The  idea  of  such  a  woman 
as  that  not  having  a  vote — or  anything 
else  she  wants!  She's  the  prettiest, 
cleverest,  most  charming  girl  I  ever 
met — except  you,  of  course,  Kitty,"  he 
added,  almost  as  if  it  ivcre  ait  after- 
thought. 

*         *         *         *         *      ,  * 

I  don't  see  Iww  I  'm  to  get  through 
all  my  social  and  domestic  duties 
and  work  for  the  W.  S.  P.  U.  as 
well. 

Jack  and  I  were  to  have  gone  to  a 
great  meeting  to-night,  at  which  Maud 
Timmins  was  to  tell  of  her  frightful 
experiences  at  Holloway;  but  I  had 
a  headache,  or  thought  I  had,  and  said 
I  wouldn't  go.  He  actually  went  with- 
out mo  !  "  Of  course  you  wouldn't  wish 
me  to  stay  away  too,  dear,"  he  said; 
"  you  've  the  Cause  too  much  at  heart 
for  that.  What  message  shall  I  give 
your  friend,  Maud? — Miss  Timmins,  ] 
should  say." 


I  looked  at  him.     "  I  have  no  friend 
called  Maud,"  I  said  frightfully  coldly, 
and   I    have   no   message    for    Miss 
Timmins,"  and  I  went  up  to  my  room 
and  shut  the  door  with  the  bang  of  an 
njured  woman. 

****** 

I  'm  not  one  of  them  any  longer!     I 

rat  it  to  you — how  can  a  girl  run  her 

ather's  house,  keep  no  end  of  social 

jngagements,    prepare    for    her    own 

.vedding,  and   at   the   same   time  sell 

The  Militant  outside  railway-stations 

ind  places,  speak  at  street-corner  meet- 

ngs,  break  windows,  throw  things  into 

.etter-boxes,  and   pour   stuff  on   golf- 

reens  ?     It  stands  to  reason  that  one 

set  of  duties   must   go ;   and   so  I  'vo 

lad  to  sever  my  connection  with  the 

W.  S.  P.  U.,  and  have  sent  back  my 

sash,  badge,  Hags  and  every  tiling. 

Of  course  they  '11  all  despise  me,  call 
me  a  doll,  a  weakling,  a  reactionary  in 
an  upholstered  cage,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing.  But  I  don't  care.  Anyhow, 
Jack  won't  see  that  Maud  Timmins 
any  more ! 

****** 

I  've  told  Papa  and  Jack.  They 
didn't  twit  me  a  bit.  Wo  had  a  regular 
cosy  fireside  evening  to-night,  with 
music  and  chat.  After  all,  be  it  never 
so  voteless,  there 's  no  place  like  Home  1 
Jack  was  nicer  and  more  devoted  than 
ever — but  still  I  'm  glad  he  won't  have 
any  more  chats  with  that  Timmins 
creature. 

During  the  evening  I  went  to  fetch 
Papa  a  book  he  wanted  from  the  library, 
and  on  my  return,  when  I  was  just 
outside  the  drawing-room  door,  I  heard 
him  say  to  Jack,  "  It  was  a  capital 
idea  of  yours,  my  boy,  and  for  all  our 
sakes  I  'm  delighted  it 's  worked  out  so 
well!" 

"What  clever  thing  has  Jack  been 
doing  ?  "  I  asked  as  I  went  into  the 
room.  But  I  never  heard  what  it  was, 
for  he  immediately  began  to  tell  me  of 
a  dear  little  house  in  Mayfair  that  he 
thought  we  might  go  and  look  at. 


"From  the  artistic  point  of  view  the  chief 
success  of  tho  evening  was  scored  by  Mr. 
Joseph  Bull,  whose  banjo  selections  were 
executed  with  great  brillianca.  A  complete 
master  of  his  instrument,  Mr.  Bull  gave  a 
splendid  rendering  of  Wagner's  '  T.nm 
hauscr.'  " — Surrey  Mirror. 

What  we  always  say  is,  if  we  can't 
hear  Tannhauser  on  the  ocarina  we 
don't  want  to  hear  it  at  all. 


"Mr.  C.  L.  Baillieu,  who  is  rowing  in  the 
Oxford  crew,  is  a  sou  of  Mr.  W.  L.  Baillieu, 
Acting-Agent  General  for  Victoria,  pending 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  Peter  McBrido."— Standard. 

When  Mr.  BAILLIEU,  junior,  will  resign 
and  accept  a  nephewship. 


MARCH  5.  1913.] 


rUNCII,  OB  TUB  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


ISO 


AET    AND    UTILITY. 

[English  Verso  Composition  is  now  threat- 
ened as  a  fcaturo  of  modern  education.  The 
following  correspondence1  is  published  without 
any  guarantee  as  to  its  authenticity.] 

DKAB  FATHER, — Since  a  school  expects 
Jts  junior  members  to  bo  dumb 

About  the  manifold  defects 
Of  comfort  and  curriculum, 

I  bave,  until  the  present  term, 

Observed  that  custom,  like  a  worm. 

But  now  must  ask  you  if  I  ought 
To  waste  my  time  and,  what  is  worse, 

To  waste  your  money,  being  taught 
T.ie  art  (?)  of  writing  English  verse ; 

No  art,  I  hear,  since  HOMER'S  day 

Has  ever  yet  been  made  to  pay. 

If  you  could  seo  the  little  swinea 

Who  take  the  prize  for  this  offence, 
Could  seo  tho  masters  alter  lines 

And  turn  their  rubbish  into  senso, 
You  would,  I  really  think,  agree 
That  this  is  not  the  place  for  me. 

****** 
DEAR  ALFRED, — Yours  of  2nd  insb. 

Is  just  to  hand,  and  in  reply 
Would  beg  to  say  I  am  convinced 

That — though,  of  course,  in  days 

gone  by 

It  didn't  pay  tho  bards  to  sing — 
Now  there  is  money  in  the  thing. 

Before  commercial  enterprise 

Had  reached  its  present  happy  state, 
When  people  didn't  advertise, 

But  left  the  sale  of  goods  to  Fata 
Or  merit,  then  the  artist's  trado 
Was  very  often  under-paid. 

Tho  painter's  pictures  didn't  sell, 
The  writer  couldn't  place  his  stuff; 

But  now  that  pretty  posters  tell, 
And  polish  pleases  in  a  puff, 

There  is  a  chance  "for  cultured  lads 

To  make  a  fortune  out  of  ads. 


THE  UNEXPECTED. 

UPON  the  Variety  stage  they  are 
known  as  Jolly  Jackson  and  Dreary 
Drew,  Cross-talk  Comedians.  Jolly 
Jackson  is  full  of  irrepressible  fun ; 
Dreary  Drew  relies  for  his  humour 
upon  an  exaggerated  melancholy.  In 
private  life  they  are  known  as  Alf  and 
Monte,  and  it  is  with  their  private  life 
that  we  are  for  the  moment  concerned. 

The  scene  is  a  sitting-room  interior. 
Tho  remnants  of  breakfast  are  on  the 
table.  Before  the  fire  a  thin,  pale, 
lugubrious  man  is  seated,  reading  The 
Music  Hall  Mirror.  This  is  Monta. 

The  door  opens,  and  a  jolly  little  red- 
faced  man  enters  and  pirouettes  across 
the  room,  singing — • 

"  Oh,  why  did  I  fancy  Nancy 

When  Nancy  did  not  fancy  ma?  " 
"  Shut  up,"  growls  Monte. 


Eminent  Professor.  "AND   BO  YOU  SEE,  MY  DEAB  YOUNG  LADY,   THE  ELECTRONS  OB 

B  PABTICLE8  WHICH  ABB  EXPELLED  FEOM  THE  ATOM  LOSB  THKIB  KINETIC  EXEBGY  BT 
IMPINGING  OH  TUB  GASEOUS  MOLECULES,  WHICH  THEY  IONISE,  AND  W1IKN  TIIEIB  VELOCITY 
IS  REDUCED  SUFFICIENTLY  ABB  EVENTUALLY  SWALLOWED  CP." 

Dear  Young  Lady.  "  OH.  I  SEE  ;  BUT  WHAT  FEABFULLY  BOUGH  LUCK  os  THE  ELECTBOSS  I  " 


Alf — for  it  is  he — perches  upon  the 
edge  of  the  table  and  beams  upon  his 
partner.  "  I  have  had  an  idea,"  he  says 
solemnly.  "  It  is  a  new  turn  for  us 
which  will  storm  the  town.  Every  nut 
will  be  cracked  about  it.  It  is  to  be 
an  imaginary  conversation  between  the 
Devil  and  the  Deep  Sea."  He  roars 
with  laughter  and  dances  round  the 
room,  singing — 
"  '  Any  sum  from  five  pounds  to  five  thousand 

Lent  upon  your  note  of  hand.' 
If  that  were  only  true 
No  more  work  I  'd  do— 

Oh,  what  a  happy,  happy  land  I  " 
"  I  shall  play  the  Deep  Sea,"  ha  con- 
tinues, alighting  once  more  upon  the 
table,  "  while  you,  with  your  unerring 
dramatic    instinct,   will    give    a    vivid 

impersonation  of "    But  Monte  has 

risen  and  solemnly  leaves  the  room. 


Now  comes  the  question  to  which  we 
have  been  leading  up  all  this  while — 
Which  of  tJiese  two  is  Jolly  Jackson  and 
which  ts  Dreary  Drew  ¥ 

No,  gentle  reader,  you  are  quita 
wrong.  The  merry  Alf  is  Jolly  Jackson, 
the  melancholy  Monte  is  Dreary  Drew. 
That  is  why  we  have  called  our  siory 
"The  Unexpected." 


From  a  seed  catalogue : — 

"  When  the  quantity  in  a  penny  packet  is 
not  stated,  but  only  tho  price  per  oz.,  the 
quantity  may  bo  estimated  in  the  following 
way  : — If  the  price,  for  example,  is  Is.  pr.r  oz., 
a  penny  packet  will  contain  about  one-twelfth 
of  an  oz.,  or  to  put  it  in  another  way,  twelve 
penny  packets  would  make  about  one  oz.  If 
the  price  is  Cd.  per  oz.,  six  packets  will  make 
about  one  oz.,  and  so  en." 

Dullish  people,  gardeners. 


190 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


5,  1913. 


THE    MOESO-GOTHS. 

".\ND  where,"  said  Francesca,  "shall  we  go  for  the 
holidays?  " 

"Holidays!"  I  said.  "Holidays!  What  inspiration 
made  you  mention  that  heautiful  word?  " 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  Easter  'a  coming  on,  you  know.  It  's 
quite  early  this  year,  and  if  we  don't  make  up  our  minds 
soon  wo  shall  ho  too  lato :  we  shall  get  left." 

"But,  of  course,  we  will  make  up  our  minds,"  I  said. 
"  Minds  were  given  to  us  in  order  that  we  might  make  them 
up.  Only  first  let  us  dwell  for  a  moment  on  the  vision 
roused  by  the  word  '  holidays.'  Do  you  see  it,  Francesca? 
The  weary  labourer  resting  in  some  haunt  of  immemorial 
peace,  recovering  his  energy  for  the  toil  that  is  yet  to  be 
accomplished,  while  his  wife  and  children  bring  him  refresh- 
ment and  minister  to  his  needs.  Stop!  Don't  speak.  Don't 
shatter  it.  Don't 

"  Oh,  but  that 's  not  at  all  my  vision,"  she  said.  _ 

"  There,"  1  said,  "  it 's  gone.  You  've  driven  it  away. 
Cold,  callous  and  cruel  one,  you  have  murdered  a  vision." 

"  But  if  I  drove  it  away  first  I  couldn't  have  murdered  it." 

"  Yes,  you  could,"  I  said.  "  You  drove  it  away,  you 
know,  and  then  you  sprinted  after  it  and  beat  it  on  the 
head.  Anyhow,  it  'a  dead." 

"  Mine  isn't,"  she  said  dreamily ;  "  mine  's  alive  and 
kicking.  I  see  a  handsome,  matronly  woman  reposing  in 
the  midst  of  a  glowing  Southern  landscape,  while  her 
children  weave  garlands  of  roses  for  her  and  sing  songs 
about  her  resting-place.  I  see 

"  Isn't  there  a  man  in  it  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  in  a  rapt  voice,  "  I  see  a  cloaked  figure 
of  a  man  not  yet  past  the  prime  of  life.  He  advances 
slowly.  The  children  implore  him  to  withdraw.  He  still 
advances.  Now  he  uncloaks  himself.  No,  no !  I  can  bear 
much,  but  not  this."  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
shuddered. 

"Bravo,  EUen  Terry!"  I  said.  "And  now,  perhaps, 
you  '11  begin  to  talk  sense.  Not  all  the  time,  of  course— one 
mustn't  expect  too  much — but  every  now  and  then." 

"  Eight-o,"  she  said. 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  I  really  cannot  allow  you  to  talk 
slang." 

"  Oh,  but  it  isn't  real  slang.  It 's  early  English.  All  the 
early  English  said  '  Eight-o.' " 

"  But  you,"  I  said,  "  are  not  early  English.    You  are " 

"  I,"  she  said  with  a  proud  air,  "  am  Indo-Germanie  with 
a  dash  of  Moeso-Gothic ;  but  I  have  married  into  an  early 
English  family." 

"  What  jargon  is  this?  "  I  said. 

"  Jargon !  "  she  said.  "  I  read  it  in  a  learned  article  last 
week.  If  I  have  remembered  it  correctly,  am  I  to  be 
blamed?" 

"  Yes,  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  are.  The  shock  of 
hearing  these  awful  words  from  your  lips  has  unmanned 
me.  Indo-Germanic,  indeed  1 " 

"  But  there  were  Indo-Germans  once,  you  know.  They 
lived;  they  ate  Indo-Germanic  food;  they  talked  Indo- 
Germanic;  they  made  love  to  one  another.  Tell  me,  oh 
tell  me,  you  who  are  a  Master  of  Arts,  what  is  the  Indo- 
Germanic  for  '  I  will  be  a  sister  to  you '  ?  " 

"  They  never  said  it.  But  the  what  's-his-name  Goths 
did.  Only  I  can't  quite  remember  the  run  of  it." 

"Don't  worry,"  she  said.  "It'll  come  back  to  you. 
And,  talking  of  coming  back,  let's  settle  about  the  holidays." 

"Yes,"  I  said  eagerly,  "let's.  You  begin,  and  when 
you've  done  your  half,  I  '11  chip  in  with  mine." 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  like  that  way.  It  doesn't  seem 
to  give  me  a  fair  chance.  You  begin." 


"  Let  me  tell  you  then,"  I  said,  "  that  I  don't  want  any 
holidays  at  all.  I  'm  willing  to  sit  tight  and  go  on  working. 
I  'm  one  of  the  bull-dog  breed." 

"  But  the  best  bull-dogs  don't  sit  tight,"  she  said.  "  They 
prowl." 

"  I  'm  not  one  of  that  sort.  I  'm  one  of  the  tight-sitting 
dangerous  ones." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  I  '11  take  the  children  somewhere, 
and  you  stay  here.  You  can  keep  an  eye  on  the  workmen." 

"  The  workmen  1 "  I  said.     "  What  workmen  ?  " 

"  The  workmen  who  are  going  to  pull  down  the  wall 
between  the  bathroom  and  the  little  dressing-room." 

"But " 

"  Now  you  're  going  to  say  you  haven't  been  consulted." 

"  Not  I,"  I  said.  "  You  laid  it  all  before  me.  I  know 
all  the  details  and  object  to  most  of  them.  I  won't  have  it 
done.  Besides,  think  of  the  dust.  I  shall  choke." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  you  'd  better  come  with  me  and  the 
children.  The  workmen  won't  miss  you." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  why  are  you  prizing  me  up  with 
a  lever  ?  However,  I  will  once  more  yield.  No,  you  must 
not  praise  me.  Nature  made  me  like  that,  and  I  can't  help 
it.  Now  we  will  settle  where  to  go.  See,  I  have  torn  three 
strips  of  paper.  The  long  one  is  for — shall  we  say  Tunis  ?  " 

"  I  should  love  Tunis,"  she  said. 

"  The  shorter  one  is  for What 's  the  shorter  one 

for?" 

"  South  Africa,"  she  suggested. 

"  So  be  it.     And  tho  shortest  one  is  for " 

"  Brighton,"  she  said  very  firmly. 

"  Yes,  we  '11  call  it  Brighton.  Now  observe :  I  place 
them  thus  between  my  closed  fingers  so  that  they  all  look 
the  same  length.  You  pull  one  of  them  out,  and  whichever 
it  is  that 's  the  one  we  go  to.  I  hope  you  follow  me." 

"  To  the  end  of  the  world,"  she  said,  and  promptly  pulled 
out  the  longest  strip. 

"  Dear  old  Tunis,"  I  said. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  Good  old  Brighton.  Tin's  is  the 
shortest  strip.  Isn't  it  the  duckiest  little  half-inch  of 
holiday-paper  you  ever  saw  ?  " 

"  Francesca,"  I  said  sternly,  "  you  have  torn  off  the  best 
part  of  Tunis." 

"  It 's  lucky  it  came  out  like  that,"  she  said,  "  for  I  've  got 
the  same  lodgings  we  had  two  years  ago."  E.  C.  L. 


ON  A  FEIEND  OF  MY  WIFE'S. 

ON  you  who,  with  insuff'rable  conceit, 
Take  ev'ry  favour  as  the  wage  of  worth, 
Deeming  yourself  the  very  salt  of  earth, 

Carping  fastidious  at  the  food  you  eat, 

Though  charity  it  is  that  finds  you  meat ; 
Disdaining  snobbishly  the  careless  mirth 
And  lively  joys  of  those  of  humbler  birth, 

Their  cheery  greetings  scorning  in  the  street ; — 

On  you,  whose  artful  blandishments  have  won 
My  wife's  fond  love,  as  she,  unshamed,  avows, 

I  well  might  wreak  swift  vengeance  with  my  gun, 

But,  being  a  Scot  whom  pawky  methods  please, 
I  '11  sell  you  unbeknownst,  then  chide  my  spouse 

For  losing  you — her  precious  Pekingese. 


Under  a  photograph  in  The  Onlooker,  which  shows 
Emmanuel  acknowledging  a  bump  in  the  Lent  Eaces,  the 
following  admonition  occurs:  "Note  how  the  cox  of  the 
victorious  crew  claims  '  a  bump  '  with  uplifted  hand."  Our 
contemporary  is  in  error  in  supposing  that  these  races  are 
rowed  backwards. 


MARCH  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


191 


\\ 


THE    CHILD    IS    DAUGHTER    OF    THE    WOMAN. 

Suffragette  (just  liome  after  a,  strenuous  day  and  expecting  important  correspondence).  "  HAVE  ANY  LETTERS  cons  FOB  MB?  " 

Daughter.  "  Yss,  MOTHEB,  BUT  I  TOBE  THBM  DP  FOB  A  DOLLS'  PAPEB-CHASE." 

Suffragette.  "TOBE  THEM  UP!    I  NEVEB  HEARD  OF  SUCH  BEHAVIOUB!    HAVEN'T  I  OFTEN  TOLD  rou  THAT  LETTEBS  ABE  BACBED 

IE  INGS?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IT  will  be  happy  news  to  many  that  Mr.  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 
has  written  another  epic  about  Dartmoor  folk.  In  many 
ways,  apart  from  its  actual  length  (and  Mr.  PHILLPOTTS  was 
never  one  for  scant  measure)  I  should  regard  Widccombe 
Fair  (JOHN  MURRAY)  as  a  big  book.  Its  scope  and  aim, 
nothing  less  than  to  tell  the  human  comedy  of  an  entire 
district,  make  it  the  largest  achievement  that  its  author  has 
so  far  to  his  credit.  Mr.  PHILLPOTTS  himself  says  in  his 
Preface  that  the  idea  of  the  work  has  been  maturing  for 
twenty  years ;  and  I  for  one  can  well  believe  it.  Look  at 
the  very  title  I  It  is  amazing  how  a  Dartmoor  writer  can 
have  so  long  refrained  from  using  it.  Sooner  or  later  Mr. 
PHILLPOTTS  was  almost  morally  bound  to  tell  us  the  true 
histories  of  certain  immortals,  known  hitherto  only  as  a  string 
of  beloved  names.  They  are  all  here,  they  and  their  families, 
the  Pierces,  the  Harry  Haivkes,  the  Gurneys,  and  the  rest, 
even  down  to  Old  Uncle  Tom  Cobleigh.  You  will  scarce 
make  their  nearer  acquaintance  without  a  thrill.  These, 
however,  are  but  a  handful  amid  a  crowd  of  characters  to 
be  numbered  by  the  score,  so  that  the  book  becomes  not  so 
much  a  single  story  as  a  collection,  from  which  everyone 


may  choose  a  different  favourite.  My  own  would  be  the 
diverting  history  of  Farmer  Sweetland  and  his  courtships. 
The  spectacle  of  a  pampered  egoist,  robbed  of  his  self- 
esteem  and,  later,  happy  in  its  recovery,  is  very  aptly  con- 
veyed. I  liked  Widecombe  Fair  so  well  that  I  am  the 
more  sorry  to  find  its  Preface,  already  alluded  to,  revealing 
Mr.  PHILLPOTTS  as  very  cross  with  somebody.  He  com- 
plains that  he  has  been  condemned  for  the  large  part  played 
by  inanimate  nature  in  his  stories.  Well,  for  myself,  re- 
membering the  delight  I  have  taken — and  it  is  here  renewed 
— in  his  gift  of  scene-painting,  all  I  can  say  is,  "Please, 
Sir,  it  wasn't  me  1 " 

If  you  are  still  in  any  doubt  as  to  where  the  "life  ro- 
mantic "  is  to  be  discovered  in  our  sordid  modern  civilisa- 
tion, go  to  RICHARD  HARDING  DAVIS.  He  knows.  It 
centres  (I  mean  centers)  in  the  offices  of  a  great  American 
newspaper.  Nearly  all  the  stories  in  The  Red  Cross  Girl 
(DUCKWORTH)  hinge  on  the  possibility  of  fame  or  adventure 
that  lie,  like  the  quest  of  the  Grail,  before  the  star  reporter 
of  a  Transatlantic  print.  By  far  the  best  of  these  tales, 
I  think,  is  the  one  called  "  The  Grand  Cross  of  the  Crescent," 
which  tells  how  Dr.  Oilman,  of  Stillwater  College,  the 
obscure  author  of  The  Rise  and  Fall  of  ihe  Turkish  Empire 


192 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  5.  1913. 


in  fivo  volumes,  ploughed  Peter  Ilallowcll,  son  of  the  mil- 
lionaire founder  and  supporter  of  that  institution,  in  Ancient 
History ;  how  for  that  reason  he  incurred  the  wrath  of  Cyrus 
Hallou'cll,  and  the  time-serving  Principal,  and  lost  his  job ; 
how  Peter,  &  good  sort  after  all,  was  sorry  for  this  and, 
having  been  sent  to  Constantinople  to  mug  up  his  subject 
at  headquarters  for  the  next  examination,  secured  for  the 
doctor  by  means  of  bribes  the  highest  honour  that  the 


method  of  telling  a  talo,  and  ho  can  mingle  a  little  laughter 
with  a  little  pathos  in  delightfully  soothing  proportions. 
Of  the  stories  which  make  up  his  last  book,  The  Lady  ot 
the  Canaries  (BLACKWOOD),  one  is  an  experiment  in  the  super- 
natural, and  one  has  a  tragic  ending,  but  the  rest  are  in  the 
spirit  of  very  genial  comedy.  "  Sanderson's  Venus  "  tells, 
how  a  young  painter,  inspired  by  Simon  Jubb, "  the  Lucifei 
of  critics,  the  Don  Juan  of  art,  with  whom  the  reputation 


ruler  of  Islam  could  confer  on  distinguished  foreigners ;  and  |  of  no  old  master  was  safe,"  to  hunt  out  other  pictures  b\ 
how  a  friendly  press  agent  worked  up  a  gigantic  boom  out  of  j  tl;o  unknown  author  of  an  incomparable  Madonna  in  the 


this  lor  the  college  and  all  concerned  with  it,  but  one  which 
was  of  no  practical  use  to  the  kind-hearted  Peter;  for  in 


Palazzo  Montogrigio, "  invaded  private  houses  so  incessantly 

that  he  felt  like  a  gas-inspector,"  and  found  out  at  last but 

I  shall  not  tell  you  what  he  found  out.     "  The  Unfortunate 


Saint,"  again,  will  be  welcome  to  thoso  who  remember  the 


wish  that  when  in  London 
his  characters  would  do  as 
London  does.  On  this  side, 
for  instance,  we  never  "  feed 
buns  to  the  bears  "  at  the 
Zoo.  I  don't  know  how  it  is 
done,  but  I  feel  sure  that  the 
keepers  would  not  allow  it. 


the  end  the  now  famous  and  reinstated   sage,   entirely 
ignorant  of  the  source  of  his  celebrity,  remarks,  "  I  regret  i 

to  tell  you,  Hallowell,  that  you  are  not  passed.  I  cannot  |  writer's  previous  exercises,  in  the  manner  of  M.  ANATOLE 
possibly  give  you  a  mark  higher  than  five."  There  are  |  FRANCE,  on  the  careers  of  holy  men.  But  I  must  join  issue 
other  good  yarns  in  this  book,  and  indeed  the  author  may  I  with  Mr.  ST.  JOHN  LUCAS  on  one  point.  In  his  last  study 
generally  be  relied  upon  to  "  deliver  the  goods."  But  I  do  which  he  calls  "  Troubles  with  a  Bear  in  the  Midi,"  a  verv 

moving  anecdote  that  has 
something  of  the  flavour  ol 
E.  L.  STEVENSON'S  adven- 
tures with  the  unforgettable 
Modcstine,  he  is  in  difficulty 
about  the  diet  of  bears,  and 
begins  to  collate  literary  testi- 
mony. Two  features  in  tin 
tariff  are  set  forth  as  follows:— 
"  (1)  Sons  of  the  prophet  ' 
(and  so,  presumably,  all  men  i 
who  are  not  too  old.  Holy 
writ  was  the  authority  foi 
this  item). 

"  (2)  Naughty  children  (this 
item  was  derived  from  vague 
recollections  of  romances 
read  in  early  youth)." 

As  to  the  "  sons  of  the  pro- 
phets," I  want  Mr.  ST.  JOHN 
LUCAS  to  read  1  Kings  xiii. 
He  will  find  that  his  arctology 
is  hopelessly  unorthodox. 


The  only  girls  we  men  never 
fall  in  love  with  are  those 
whom  our  mothers  and  sisters 
most  persistently  recommend 
for  that  very  purpose.  They 
may  be  pretty,  they  may  be 
smart,  they  may  not  even  be 
obtrusively  good;  neverthe- 
less we  do  not  get  engaged  to 
them.  It  is  not  that  our 
female  relatives  are  actuated 
by  envy  or  malice ;  it  is 
simply  that  men  and  women 
do  not  see  eye  to  eye  in  the 
matter  of  charm.  Thus  I  am 
unable  to  agree  with  Lady 
RIDLEY  as  to  the  probability 
of  Margery  Fytton  (GHATMAN 
AND  HALL).  I  find  un- 
believable the  ubiquitous 


FORGOTTEN  DEEDS  OP  VALOUR. 

AN  INGENIOUS  BUT  TACTLESS  ABTIPICER  PEESENTS  JULIUS  OxESAB 
WITH  HIS  BUST  MADE  FBOM   AN   OSTBICH   EGO. 


conquests  with  which  she  is  credited  almost  as  a  matter 
of  course,  nor  can  I  think  that,  with  all  the  fineness 
of  character  innate  in  her  and  intensified  by  the  tragic 
circumstances  of  her  youth,  she  could  so  easily  and  imme- 
diately have  unsettled  the  affections  of  her  cousins'  prospec- 
tive husbands.  It  would  have  been  the  other  way  on ;  her 
tunt's  campaign  for  the  marrying  off  of  her  daughters  would 
^lave  been  aided  by  her  having  Margery  to  live  in  the  house 
Interested  men  would  have  come  there  because  they  were  in 
sympathy  with  Margery,  but  would  have  stayed  on  because 
,hey  were  in  love  with  one  of  her  cousins,  for  the  cousins 
had,  as  Margery  had  not,  the  volatile  spirit  of  sheer  femininity 
yhich  brings  men  under.  The  last  thing  I  suggest  is  that 

!ns  Margery  is  unreal ;  she  is  very  lifelike  and  exactly  true 

o  type,  but  her  type  is  unhappily  the  wrong  one  for  Lady 

KIDLEY  s  purpose.     The  book  is  more  especially  a  woman's 

book  and.  while  all  who  read  it  will  be  thrilled  by  the  story 

and  fascinated  by  the  minuteness  and  delicacy  of  the  por- 

raituro,  the  ladies  will  go  further  and  flatly  refuse  to  agree 

r  a  moment  with  the  one  exception  I  take  to  it. 

An  engaging  simplicity  marks  Mr.  ST.  JOHN  LUCAS'S 


I  am  convinced  by  this  time 
that  women-novelists  adore 
a  strong,  silent,  rugged  hero, 
who  keeps  his  emotions  pent 
until  the  flood-gates  burst 
open  and  the  heroine  is  overwhelmed  by  a  veritable  spate 
of  emotion.  In  the  flesh  I  admit  that  I  have  never  to  my 
knowledge  met  this  type  of  man,  but  in  fiction  I  have  a  very- 
decided  fancy  for  him  as  being  much  more  satisfactory  t1 
the  philanderer  who  constantly  interrupts  the  story  by 
making  love  all  over  tha  place.  In  The  Beloved  Enemy 
(METHUEN),  Edmund  dime's  manners  did  not  amount — he 
was  an  American— to  a  hill  of  beans,  but  he  had  the  patience 
of  a  night-watchman  and  a  heart  of  gold.  The  lady— 
Elizabeth  Thornton — was  perhaps,  in  spite  of  her  sunniness 
and  beauty,  not  quite  worthy  of  her  prize.  Thoughtlessness 
is  sometimes  a  pardonable  defect  of  nature,  but  I  found  it 
hard  to  forgive  her  for  neglecting  her  delightful  father  when 
he  was  critically  ill.  Madame  ALBANESI'S  theme  is  the  in- 
fluence of  adversity  upon  character,  and  she  puts  Elizabeth 
through  a  very  severe  course  of  treatment,  but  still  the 
remembrance  of  that  extraordinary  lapse  remained  to  con- 
vince one  that  her  heartlessness  was  so  ingrained  that  not 
the  most  powerful  doses  of  ill-fortune  could  purge  it.  That, 
however,  is  my  only  murmur,  and  I  only  insist  upon  it 
because  this  is  the  most  ambitious — and  in  many  ways  the 
most  successful — of  Madame  ALBANESI'S  novels. 


MAKOI    12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OK   THE   LONDON   CHARIVAUI. 


193 


CHARIVARIA. 


was    an    independent    jaguar    or    an 
escaped    prisoner    whom    tho   nearest 


slightly  earlier.      ... 


down  their  school-house  whenever  they 
want  a  holiday  will  fall  into  desuetude. 

A    New    York    dentist    states    that 
champagne,  if  taken  regularly,  destroys 


IN  view  of  the  unparalleled  increase  of  constable  ought  to  arrest  at  sight. 
arinamenls  now  taking  place  in  Kurope,  I 

the  opening  of  the  Palace  of  JVuc>,  At  Ellington,  in  Northumberland,  a 
which  was  originally  fixed  for  the  school  has  been  erected  in  twenty-four 
"loginning  <>f  September,  will  take  place  hours.  Now  that  this  has  been  proved 

to  ho  possible  it  is  thought  that  the 
practice    of    young    scholar-;    burning 

"Germany  to-day  possesses  at  le.i-4 
five  airships  capable  of  arriving  lino  a! 
night  and  destroying  wholesale  British 
Hi •••!*,  Dockyards,  and  Magazines.     To 
learn  how  this  imminent  National  Peril 
can    bo    averted,    see    The 
Hi  r'u'w  of  Itcviews."     Thus 
an  advertisement.    One  can 
well  understand  The  lievicu- 
nf  Reviews  being  interested 
in  the  danger,  being  itself  a 

Magazine.    .;:  * 

'  * 

The  German  courts  have 
decided  that  the  KAISKU 
may  not  evict  from  his 
estate  a  farmer  whose  lease 
has  five  years  to  run.  We 
should  have  thought,  how- 
ever, that  a  charge  of  tise- 
majesti  might  have  been 
successfully  preferred! 

against  the  insolent  fellow. 
*  * 

At  the  recent  durbar  held 
by  Sir  FUKDKBICK  LUOAHD, 
(iovernor  of  Nigeria,  many 
of  the  Emirs,  Keuter  tells 
us,  were  attended  by  their 
Court  jesters.  Their  fav- 
ourite joke,  we  hear,  was  to 
cry  out  in  a  loud  voice, 
"Whoa,  Emir!"  whenever 
tho  horse  bearing  one  of 
these  dignitaries  became 
too  restive.  ...  .;. 

More  early  cuckoos  ! 
Ice  -  cream  barrows,  we 
read,  have  already  made 
their  appearance  in  the 
streets  of  Tunbridge  Wells. 


HEAHfOINf 
'SPOONY* 

-WOONY 
TIME" 


Thoughtful  Person.  "  SOMEHOW  THE   KOTICES   OP   BOMB   or  THESE 

VOCALISTS   DO  NOT    SEEM    TO    BB    S0FFU6ED    WITH    THAT    MODKSTY  WHICH 
ONE   EXPECTS  TO  FIND   AS  THE  ACCOMPANIMENT  OF  GREAT  TAt,KNT." 


At  a  complimentary  dinner  to  Sir 
ARTHUR  LASKNHY  LIBEKTV,  last  week, 
ho  was  presented  with  a  bust  of  him- 
self by  Sir  GEOUGE  FIIAMPTON.  Though 
inferior  in  point  of  size  to  tho  statue  of 
Liberty  outside  New  York,  it  is  a  much 
better  likeness.  .,.  % 
*" 

Tho  fact  that  two  Sambur  deer 
escaped  from  captivity  at  the  Zoo  the 
other  day  has  led  to  tho  suggestion  that  perambulators. 

all  the  inmates  of  that  institution  shall   nurses,"  says   ~ -„„„,      ut,  ... 

wear  somo  distinctive  striped  costume. '  arms  at  the  demand."     The  babies,  of 
Under  the  present  haphazard  arrange-  course,  had  already  assumed  that  pos- 
n tent,  if  one  were  to  meet,  say,  a  jaguar,  I  ture. 
walking  down  Eegent  Street,'  one  would 
have  no  means  of  knowing  whether  it 


the  teeth.     Frankly,  we  are  alarmed, 
and  shall  knock  it  off  at  breakfast. 

•'{ 
It  is  stated  that  a  queen  wasp  has 

been  seen  near  Stroud.    After  the  recent 
mistakes   as   to   mystery  airships,  we 
shall    not    be    surprised    to  find   this 
turning  out  to  be  a  Suffragette. 
*  * 

A 

The  Municipal  Council  at  Brest  has 
imposed  a  tax  of  threepence  a  day  on 
'  The    mothers    and 
The  Mail,   "are  up  in 


informs  us,  has  written  a  work  on 
Death,  which  vill  be  published  in  tho 
course  of  the  summer.  It  should  he  in 
great  demand  with  those  who  caro 
for  light  holiday  reading. 

An  advertisement  of  a  "  Ht'OE  SHOK 
SALM  "  attracts  our  notice.  Wo  our- 
selves never  attend  any  hut  Dainty 
1  little  Shoe  Sales. 


SO  SMALL  A  THING. 
IT  lies  before  me,  the  little  tempter, 
and  a  thousand  dreams  of 
possibilities  rise  as  I  con- 
template it.  Ahiaschar't 
basket  of  crockery  did  not 
lead  to  more.  It  may  con- 
tain wealth  and  it  may  con- 
tain ruin.  No  one  knows, 
but  the  odds  are  on  ruin.  It 
depends,  of  course,  a  littla 
on  how  sensible  I  am — or, 
rather,  not  how  sensible, 
for  if  I  was  sensible  I  should 
throw  it  in  the  fire,  but  with 
what  degree  of  caution  I 
proceed  in  my  foolishness. 
If  I  do  little  I  am  less  likely 
to  make  a  mess  of  it  than 
if  I  do  much ;  but  then 
comes  in  the  question  of 
my  mental  anguish  when  I 
discover  what  I  might  have 
done  had  I  only  been  a 
little  bolder.  But  which- 
ever way  the  luck  goes  this 
thing  is  as  certain  as  death 
— that  regret  and  dis- 
appointment are  its  in- 
separable companions. 
Excitement,  too,  I  admit, 
and  even  triumph;  but 
those  others  are  the  steadier 
attendants :  they  "  sit  by 
your  bed  and  bring  their 
knitting." 

Well,  there  are  three 
wesks  yet  before  anything 
can  happen,  and  that  gives 


*  * 


M.  MAETERLINCK,  The  Book  Monthly 


me  time  to  make  up  my  mind  whether 
or  not  to  swear  off.  Meanwhile,  there  it 
lies,  the  little  tempter,  my  bookmaker's 
code  and  list  of  rules  for  the  flat  season, 
just  arrived  by  registered  post. 

The  Salome  Craze  again. 

"  '  Do  you  like  my  room  ? ' 
Margot  turned  with  her  quick  smile. 
'  I  expect  you  find  it  rather  bare?  ' 
•I    liko    it,'   Jennifer  answered  earnestly. 
'  It 's  liko  you.'  " — Ilome  Chat. 

"  Hera  tho  oath  was  daministcrcd  by  Chief 
Justice  White." — Yorkshire  Post. 
Hush  1         

"One  comes  across  real  love  once  in  tho 
proverbial  new  moon." — Taller. 

"Every  month  I  bring  you  violets." 


VOL.   CXI.IV. 


194 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAECH  12,  1913. 


EMPORIUM    SPORTS. 

[A  Sports  and  Games Kxhibition  has  recently 
1,  en  li'1'1  at  some  London  Stores,  where- 
to follow  tho  lines  of  the  announcements— a 
Croat  Gathering  of  Champions  was  present 
"  to  di-cuss  matters  of  sport  with  visitors  and 
personally  to  demonstrate  their  mastery  at 
their  respective  games,"  and  where  space  was 
provided  to  practise  driving,  approaching, 
putting ;  to  bat  and  bowl  at  tho  nets  ;  to  cast 
a  fly  •  to  punch  tho  ball ;  to  row  in  a  fixed 
ra.-ing  boat ;  to  play  a  100  up  at  billiards, 

"  AND  AIX  UNDER  THE  EYE  OF  A  CHAMPION.  , 

Not  least  of  tho  allurements  offered  was  the 
chance  of  trying  to  bowl  out  HODBS,  or  "to 
have  a  chat  with  a  Champion,  and  thus  to 
improve  your  game." 

Mr.  Punch  has  secured  tho  following  account 
by  a  survivor.] 

"  HERE  we  are,"  said  Charles  as  we 
entered.  "  No,  not  that  way,  you  ass  1 " 

I  have  always  wondered  what  a  trout 
says  when  he  sees  his  pal  led  away  by 
tho  hook.  Now  I  know.  I  flapped  a 
despairing  hand  at  Charles  and  swerved 
off  towards  the  earnest  sportsman  who 
had  just  contrived  a  successful  cast  at  me. 
I  followed  my  ear,  which  was  pointing 
taut  in  the  direction. of  tho  angler. 

My  progress  was  .interrupted  by  a 
resounding  017  of  "Fore ! "  and  I  ducked 
swiftly,  just  in  timb  to  add  to  the 
general  eclat  o!  a  golf-ball's  impact. 
The  hook  still  held,  however,  and  the 
next  moment  I  was  brought  up  under 
the  bank. 

"  Now  in  a  case  like  that,"  the  Expert 
was  saying,  as  'my  angler  gaffed  me 
neatly  in  the  vicinity  of  the  front  collar- 
stud,  "  when  the  fish  made  a  sudden 
plunge  you  should,  have  let  the  line 
run.  Had  it  not  been  of  superfine 
quality,  and  the  rod,  too,  one  of  them 
would,  assuredly  have  given  way  under 
the  strain." 

"  What  about  my. ear?  "  I  murmured. 
"  Only  one  of  the  best  ears  could  have 
— ah,  thank  you  !  "  I  continued,  as  the 
hook  was  released.  "  No,  it 's  all  right, 
really.  I  've  been  thinking  for  some 
time  of  having  the  lobe  pierced.'  So 
useful  for  hanging  a  key-ring  on,  you 
know." 

The"  Expert  listened  with  some  im- 
patience to  my  angler's  apologies. 

"  And  if  there 's  anything  I  can  do 
for  you,"  the  latter  wound  up. 

"  Nothing,  nothing  1 "  I  assured  him. 
"Unless — well,  if  you  would  just  get 
that  Gentleman  Usher  for  me.  Thanks!" 

I  carefully  extricated  the  Gentleman 
Usher  from  the  landing-net — he  looked 
a  bit  white  about  the  gills — and  asked 
him  the  way  to  the  cricket  stand. 

"  I  have  never  yet  had  the  honour 
of  asking  Mr.  HOBBS'S  advice  on  the 
matter  of  my  play,"  I  said.  "  True,  I  can- 
not hope  to  reproduce  with  any  fidelity 
that  lovely  shot  of  his  past  cover,  but 
I  should  like  to  know  if  the  best  people 
will  wear  a  knotted  silk-handkerchief 


round  their  necks  next  season.  In 
which  case,"  I  added  hastily,  "  you  may 
rest  assured  that  I  am  not  the  man  to 
slink  off  homo  without  going  to  your 
haberdashery  department  and  buying 
lialf-a-dozen  of  this  neck-wear." 

"  No  doubt,"  said  the  man,  retiring 
to  the  safety  of  formula,  "you  would 
[ike  to  have  an  opportunity  of  bowling 
HOBBS  out  ?  " 

"Do  you — do  you  really  think  I 
could  ?  "  I  asked  excitedly,  grasping  him 
by  the  arm.  "  You  know,  there  's  that 
ball  of  mine  which  goes  with  the  shirt- 
sleeve, and  you  think  it 's  going  to  be  a 
half-volley  (sometimes  it  is).  It  used 
to  be  pretty  useful  in  College  matches 
when  the  bowling  screen  was  a  bit  off 
colour.  Do  you  think  it  might  get  the 
better  of  HOBBS — tho  Oval's  HOBBS 
—  England's  HOBBS  —  the  Empire's 
HOBBS  ?  " 

"  Well,  Sir,"  said  the  man,  "  you  can 
but  try.  To  get  to  tho  cricket  stand 
you  take  a  Hying  leap  over  the  middle 
of  the  skittle  alley,  skirt  tho  hopscotch 
yard  and  the  fifteenth  green,  and  then 
go  along  the  butts — I  should  say  the 
first-floor  gallery,"  he  corrected  him- 
self. "Up  there,  Sir,  you'll  have  to 
be  very  careful  and  do  your  best  not 
to  look  like  a  stag,  because  there's 
some  gentlemen  stalking  up  the  grand 
staircase  under  the  direction  of  the 
Open  Championship  Gillie,  and  some 
mistakes  have  beer^made  already,  Sir." 

"Thank  you,"  I  said.  "I  hope  I 
am  not  deficient  in  natural  courage, 
but  first  of  all  you  shall  tell  rne  where 
to  find  the  bar." 

"  Under  the  direction  of  Mr.  G.  K. 
CHESTERTON,  Sir  ?  Yes,  Sir.  Straight 
ahead  down  the  Punch  Ball  Avenue, 
Sir." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  said,  "  and  after 
that  I  will  go  and  dp  a  little  hammer 
throwing  in  the  China  department." 

I  never  got  as  far  as  the  China 
department. '  First  of  all  the  Miniature 
Foxhounds  (under  the  direction  of 
a  distinguished  M.F.H.)  ran  me  to 
earth  among  the  Manchester  goods, 
and  then,  when  I  emerged  blowing,  I 
was  very  nearly  harpooned  by  a  figure 
in  a  gent.'s  whaling  outfit  whom  I 
recognised  as  Charles  by  the  spats 
which  he  wore  over  his  sea-boots. 
(Always  a  dandy,  Charles.)  I  made  a 
desperate  charge  through  the  mur- 
derous hail  of  golf  balls,  tennis  balls, 
cricket  balls,  and  billiard  balls,  seeking 
for  further  cover,  only  to  be  held  up  on 
a  cJievanx-de-frise  of  spillikins.  Be- 
coiling  from  this,  I  put  my  foot  througl 
the  skin  of  a  racing  eight,  and  came 
down  heavily  on  to  a  stray  dumb-bell. 

#  :;:  >;:  #  *  :;: 

"  Perhaps  this  gentleman  will  try  a 
bout  with  you,"  were  the  next  words  I 


heard,  as  somebody  alluded  to  me  with 
his  foot.  I  struggled  to  my  feet  and 
beheld  Charles — perjured  traitor — who 
had  lured  me  to  the  place,  deserted  mo, 
and  (all  but)  harpooned  me.  I  was 
not  the  man  I  was — while  I  was  lying 
stunned  I  fancied  I  had  been  bob- 
sleighed over,  and  I  also  felt  that  somo 
too  zealous  golfer  (from  a  Service  club) 
had  been  using  me  as  a  bunker — but  I 
seized  a  foil  in  a  fevered  grip. 

"  Charles,"  I  hissed,  "I  am  going  to! 
pink  you  all  over.  Then  I  will  havd 
three  rounds  with  you  in  the  ring. 
Then  I  will  bowl  at  you  in  tho  nets! 
Then  I  will  cast  flies  at  you.  Then  I 
will  play  you  a  hundred  up  at  billiaixU 
—  and  if  you  fancy  I  can't  hurt  you  aq 
that  you  '11  be  cruelly  undeceived,  my 
son.  I  am  going  to  be  an  assailant 
now,  under  the  adyica  of  all  thd 
Experts." 

Charles's  man  opened  the  door  and 
I  delivered  a  limp  bundle  into  his 
arms. 

"This,"  I  said,  ."is  your  master. 
Arrange  him  roughly  on  his  bed,  and 
then  send  for  a  surgeon  to  make  thd 
necessary  extractions,  £tc.  We  havd 
been  playing  a  compendium  of  Bpbrtl 
together.  This  end,  by  the  way,  is  his" 
head.  .  It  is  wearing  spats  merely  as  a 
temporary  dressing." 

I  had  just  enough  strength  left  to 
return  to  my  taxi. 

"  To  the  nearest  hospital,"  I  said, 
"  I  am  going  to  give  myself  up." 


PAST  AND  PEESENT. 

[Mr.  Jus|ice  BANKES  has  in  public  protested 
against  tho'excessive  wordiness  of  Counsel.] 

THE   world  observes  and  notes   with 

thanks 
the  views  of  Mr.  Justice  BANKES. 

But  he,  alas,  is  not  the  first 

Whose  fate  has  been  to  learn  the  worst 

To  wit,  how  very  prolix  are 
The  speeches  spoken  by  the  Bar. 

Yes,  Counsel's  tendency  to  bore 
lias  'been  remarked  upon  before 

By  their  unhappy  Lordships,  who 
Have  been  obliged  to  hear  him  through 

Since  Judges  first  began  to  sit 
They  always  have  complained  of  it ; 

Nor  were  they  more  contented  men 
Or  less  inclined  to  grumble  when 

The  Bar  included  in  its  ranks 
The  very  learned  Mr.  BANKES. 

"Bedfard  Modern  School  (3)  V.  Oakhum 
School  (4). — In  this  match  the  game  wai 
much  more  even  than  the  score  indicates." 

Field. 

Don't  blame  the  score,  though.     It  di 
its  best. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MARCH  12,  1913. 


THE    NEW    COCKTAIL. 

PHKSIDENT  WILSON  (examining  American  Eagle's  tongue).  "  MY    POOR    BIRD!     WHAT    HAVE   THEY 
BEEN    DOING    TO   YOU?      WHAT  YOU   WANT  IS  A   GOOD    STIFF    LEAVE-IT-TO-WOODBOW ! " 


M. \iicn  12.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


197 


Irish  Dealer  (summoned  to  inspect  the  latest  of  a  series  of  frauds  emanating  from  his  establishment). 
CATT'N,  I  BELAVE  IF  I  SOLD  YE  A  DUCK  UT  WOULD  DROWN  t  " 


'LAME   WID  SHPHSTSl     EEDAD, 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  ALEXANDRA,  QUEEN   OF  NURSES. 

IT  is  just  fifty  years  since  Denmark's  PBINCESS  won  the 
placo  that  she  still  keeps  in  the  hearts  of  the  English 
people  when  she  came  over  the  sea  to  be  wedded  to  our 
PHINCE  OP  WALES.  It  is  desired  to  record  this  Jubilee  by 
the  building  of  a  Queen  Alexandra's  Nurses'  Home  in 
connection  with  the  Alton  Hospital  for  Crippled  Children. 

The  QUEKN-MOTHER  lias  always  been  devoted  to  the 
welfare  of  Nurses,  and  has  closely  concerned  herself  with 
the  interests  of  those  who  tend  the  little  patients  at  Alton. 
Mr.  Punch  ventures  to  appeal  to  the  many  friends  who 
share  his  love  of  children  and  his  loyalty  to  QUEEN 
ALEXANDRA  to  help  of  their  generosity  to  raise  the  sum 
of  £10,000  needed  for  this  most  appropriate  memorial. 
Contributions  should  be  sent  to  Sir  WILLIAM  TBELOAB, 
Moorgate  House,  61,  Moorgate  Street,  E.G. 


From  an  account  of  the  induction  of  a  minister,  in  TJie 
Aberdeen  Free  Press : — 

"In  tho  evening  a  largely  attended  social  meeting  was  held  in 
the  church,  when  Rev.  J.  J.  Calder  presided.  After  tea  Mrs.  Geddes, 
Schoolhouse,  and  Mrs.  G.  Craig,  Knockdhu,  robbed  the  minister." 

A  quaint  and  pleasing  custom. 


"  The  comparison  between  Ibsen  and  Shaw  has  often  teen  rudely 
laboured.  .  .  .  Shaw  is  ever  and  everywhere  a  realist.  Ibsen  remains 
the  mystic  and  the  symbolist.  We  cannot  conceive  of  Mr.  Bernard 
Shaw  writing  '  The  Lady  of  the  Lake.'  " — Everyman. 

Nor  can  we  conceive  of  SCOTT  writing  The  Lady  from  the 
Sea  ;  but  you  never  can  toll. 


A   MAN'S   LAST  WORD. 

DEAK,  when  last  night  I  begged  you  to  bestow 
Your  hand  on  me,  and,  far  from  feeling  flattered, 

You  gave  me  your  uncompromising  "  No  " 
And  left  my  heart  irreparably  shattered, 

I  swore  (quite  fluently)  to  sail  awa' 

And  pot  the  larger-sized  carnivora. 

But,  ere  I  buy  my  outfit  (at  the  Stores) 

And  brush  aside  for  years  Convention's  trammels, 

Flease  ask  yourself — such  tenderness  is  yours — 
What  harm  you've  suffered  from  these  luckless 
mammals, 

That  you  should  send  me  forth  resolved  to  gain 

Oblivion  by  plunging  them  in  pain. 

Pause  and  reflect  how  at  an  early  date 

Maybe  some  stricken  brute  will  cease  his  snarling 
And  (in  the  jungle's  tongue)  ejaculate, 

"  I  die  because  of  Arabella  Darling." 
Your  tender  heart  could  not  but  take  amiss 
The  prospect  of  a  leopard  saying  this. 

Consider,  please,  how  every  skin  you  see 

Will  rend  your  bosom  with  tho  thought  (Oh  I 
Circe  I) 

"  Perchance  its  owner's  death  was  due  to  me," 
Since  qni  per  alium  facit,  facil  per  se  ; 

Would  not  this  burden  prove  a  lot  more  hard 

Even  than  mating  with  the  present  bard  ? 


193 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  JJHAR1VA1U. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


A  GREAT  CONTEST  OF  WITS. 

IN  a  recent  number  of  The  Daily 
Mail  London  and  Greater  London  were 
startled  and  shocked  to  learn  that  Mr. 
PLOWDEN,  the  BKKXAKD  SHAW  of  Mary- 
lebone,  has  a  serious  rival— by  which 
we  mean  a  comic  rival. 

Tho  deadly  article  ran  thus  : — 

"A  South  London  Solomon  is  Mr.  I.  A. 
Symmons,  tho  magistrate  at  Greenwich  1  ohcc 
Court,  where  ho  lias  patched  up  many  a  do- 
mestic quarrel  and  f  olved  many  a  matrimonial 
problem.  Mr.  1'lowdcn  will  havo  to  look  to 
his  laurels  as  London's  most  quoted  magistrate. 

A  handsome  man  with  a  ruddy  complexion 
and  k.-en  but  kindly  blue  eyes,  Mr.  Symmons 
inspire)  confidence  at  tho  first  .glance.     . 
manner  is  cheerful  and  tolerant,  but  he  can  bo 
firm  to  the  point  of  severity  if  ho  suspects  that 
a  witness  or  prisoner  is  lying  to  him.    A  good 
man  to  confess  to,  but  a  bad  man 
to  deceive,  he  quickly  probes  to 
the  heart  of  evidence,  makes  his 
decision    swiftly,    and    punishes 
according  to    the   means  of   tho 
offender. 

Some  of- Mr.  Symmons's  com- 
ments are  worth  reproducing. 
Tho  following  are  samples : 

Nagging  is  the  constant  reitera- 
tion of  unpleasant  truths. 

Any  man  can  talk  a  woman  over 
if  he  tries. 

Life  is  a  compound.  It  has  the 
tears  of  things,  it  has  tho  joy,  the 
humour,  the  pleasure  of  things. 

If  some  women  were  only  better 
cooks  there  would  be  far  fewer 
domestic  differences  for  us  to 
settle. 

There  is  always  the  chance  for 
the  good  joke. 

"A  large  share  of  the  melancholy 
of  life  is  due  to  some  derangement 
of  the  digestive  system." 

Feeling  that  these  mo- 
mentous statements  were  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  need 
investigation,  Mr.  Flinch 
commissioned  one  of  his  less 
dull  young  men  to  visit  the 
famous  cadi  of  Marylebone, 
and  bring  the  matter  before  him ;  for  it 
is  surely  the  highest  proof  of  solicitude 
to  tell  a  man  that  his  pre-eminence  is 
in  danger.  The  setting  star  is  always 
happy  to  learn  of  one  that  is  rising,  and 
his  friends  cannot  be  too  eager  in 
bringing  the  news. 

Mr.  PLOWDEN,  a  short  corpulent  man 
with  a  long  black  beard,  was  discovered 
in  his  court  dealing  out  jests  and  sen- 
tences with  insouciant  rapidity  and 
terrible  effect.  The  windows  rattled  as 
the  laughter  swelled,  and  the  cracking 
of  policemen's  ribs  and  splitting  of 
witnesses'  sides  were  like  pistol  shots. 
Even  the  prisoners  had  tears  of  merri- 
ment in  their  eyes. 

When  at  last,  our  commissioner 
writes,  everyone  was  either  in  hysterics 
or  gaol,  and  the  court  rose,  I  approached 
Mr.  PLOWDEN  with  the  above  cutting  in 
my  hand. 


"  What 's  that  ?  "  asked  the  wit.  "  A 
summons  ?  " 

I  gave  it  to  him  and  lie  ran  his  eaglo 
eye  over  it. 

"Ah,  no,"  he  said,  "not  a  summons 
but  a  SYMMONS." 

For  myself,  I  had  difficulty  in  retain- 
ing my  foot,  but  an  usher  passing  at 
the  time  fell  into  a  stupor  of  mirth 
from  which,  I  am  told,  he  has  not  yet 
recovered. 

"  And  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  Mr. 
PLOWDEN  inquired  in  his  inimitable  way. 

"  Simply  this,"  I  said.  "  The  sugges- 
tion of  that  article  is  that  your  nose  is 
being  put  out  of  joint.  Kindly  tell  me 
how  you  yourself  feel  about  it." 

"Well,"  replied  the  Marylebone 
Solon,  "  do  I  look  down-hearted?  " 


Never  was  there  such  a  morning. 
Officials  tottered  gasping  for  breath 
into  the  street  and  leaned  against  lamp- 
posts and  omnibuses  to  complete  their 
fits  of  hilarity.  Traffic  was  suspended. 
Portions  of  the  ceiling  fell  down.  "  Fiat 
justitia,  mat  ccelum,"  said  Mr.  PLOWDEIJI 
more  than  once.  Prisoners  escaped. 
Tho  public  gallery  was  like  a  battle- 
field. 

Hero  are  Mr.  PLOWDEN'S  rival 
scintilla  juris : — 

"  Eat,  drink,  and  be  buried :  that  is 
tho  summary  of  too  many  lives. 

The  wiser  the  wife  the  bettor  the 
dinner  she  gives  her  husband. 

Life  is  a  mixture.  It  isn't  all  beer 
and  picture-palaces. 

It  isn't  only  at  the  National  Gal- 
lery that  Constables  are  in- 
jured. 

The  best  constables  are 
the  politest — they  might  be 
called  '  If-you-police-men." 

A  lost  latchkey  leads  to  a 
multitude  of  sins." 

During  the  recital  of  theM 
sparklers  one  man  and  one 
only  kept  a  straight  face. 
In  vain  did  Mr."  PLOWDEN 
bend  his  wits  upon  this  stolid 
spectator,  until  at  last  he 
called  an  usher  and  ordered 
him  to  conduct  the  man  froni 
the  court  as  a  hindrance  to 
justice.  The  usher  returned 
saying  that  ho  had  done  so.  • 
"Was  he  deaf?"  asked 
Mr.  PLOWDEN. 

"  No,  Sir,"  said  the  usher. 
"  He  comes  from  Greenwich." 


are   recruiting  on  tho 


["General  Sir  and  Lady 

Italian  Riviera." — Society  News.] 

MENTAL  PICTURE  MADE  BY  OLD  LADY  ON  BEADING  ABOVE.  SHE 
SAYS,  "  IT  IS  A  SHAME  THEY  CANNOT  GET  ENOUGH  ENGLISHMEN  TO 
ENLIST  IN  THE  ARMY  AND  HAVE  TO  GO  TO  ITALY  TO  GET  ITALIANS. 
WHEN  I  WAS  A  YOUNG  GIRL,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


I  admitted  that  he  did  not. 

"  Nor  am  I,"  he  said.  "  And  to  prove 
my  confidence  in  myself,  excellent  fellow 
as  my  colleague  no  doubt  is — and  in 
a  very  good  court  too,  by  the  way, 
Grinnidge — I  back  myself  to  beat  him. 
There  are  a  number  of  his  best  things 
in  that  article.  They  are  no  doubt  the 
harvest  of  the  reporter's  mornings  for 
many  months;  but  give  .me  five  minutes 
and  I  will  produce  an  equal  number  of 
better  things." 

"  Good !  "  I  said,  scenting  some  first- 
class  copy. 

"Come  back  in  five  minutes,"  Mr. 
PLOWDEN  continued,  "  and  I  will  give 
you  a  sealed  paper  containing  new  side- 
splitters.  In  court  to-morrow  I  will 
try  them  publicly,  and  you  shall  see  the 
result  and  judge  for  yourself." 

I  agreed,  and  the  next  day  attended 
as  arranged. 


Spring  Fashions. 
From   a  recipe  for  batter 
pudding : — 

"Add  the  remainder  of  the 
milk,  beat  again  and  turn  quickly 
into  hot,  buttered  gem-pans  and  bako  above 
half  an  hour.  Have  the  oven  hot,  secure 
them  together  with  a  piece  of  flower  wire 
Twist  a  length  of  narrow  green  ribbon  around 
tho  stalks  and  you  have  a  pretty  bouquet  for 
your  dress  or  hat.". — Barrow  News. 
We  never  wear  any  pudding  but  tapioca 
on  our  hat. 

"England  scored  early,  but  Sotland  —  a 
team  all  Sottish-bred  and  born  and  playinf, 
for  Sottish  lubs— showed  up  splendidly." 

Sutiday  Chronicle. 

"  '  Twas  brillig  and  the  Sottish  lubs"- 
to  quote  the  opening  lino  of  our  new 
poem. 

"  A  reduction  of  9Jd.  per  cwt.  in  the  prici 
of  gas  has  been  made  by  the  Waudsworth 
Wimbledon  and  Epsom  District  Gas  Co." 
Wimbledon  Neios  Letter. 

We  always  put  our  gas  in  the  scales 
before  using  it,  to  make  sure  that 
have  not  been  given  short  weight. 


MARCH  12,  1913.] 


rrxcir,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


199 


Tenth.  "On,  EVERYTHING  BORES  ONE  NOWADAYS.    WORST  OP  IT  is,  WHEN  I'M  BORED  I  CAS'T  HELP  SHOWING  IT. 
Lady.  "On,  BUT  vou  SHOULD  LEARX  TO  DISGUISE  IT  UNDER  A  MASK  OP  GAIETY,  LIKE  ME." 


THE  TWO    EPICURES:    A   FANTASY. 

[According  to  an  article  in  The  Morning  Posit  a  real  Russian  sable 
coat  of  full  length,  consisting  of  180  skins,  was  purchased  last  year  by 
a  ludy  for  £5,000.1 

IN  the  old  red  houso  with  the  gables 
There  dwclleth  a  fair  unknown. 

Is  she  forward  or  coy  ?     I  can't  determine, 
But  I  know  that  a  hundred-and-eighty  vermin, 
Nino-score  warranted  Scythian  sables, 
Were  skinned  for  her  sake  alone. 

She  wears  her  furs  in  the  winter, 
In  summer  she  lays  them  by, 

In  summer  she  sits  in  her  garden  of  roses, 
I  see  her  (in  dreams)  where  the  box-hodgc  closes, 
And  none  with  passionate  lips  may  print  her, 
Save  only  the  butterfly. 

He  hath  tasted  the  jasmine  petal, 
He  hath  turned  from  the  lily  tall, 

He  hath  quaffed  the  wine  of  the  musk -1'ose  flagon 
And  pilfered  the  fruit  of  the  hot  snap-dragon, 
He  hath  chosen  at  last  on  her  face  to  settle, 
On  the  fairest  flower  of  all. 

Fortunate  (think  you,  reader?) 
Who  tastes  at  his  wanton  whim 
The  damask  cheek  and  the  mouth  of  a  maiden; 
Ah,  but  my  heart  with  dreams  is  laden 
Of  another  feaster,  a  finer  feeder 
A  luckier  far  than  him. 


Sweet  is  the  dew  of  honey, 
But  an  imsubstantial  froth  ; 
Sweet  are  the  lips  of  Amaryllis, 
But  who  shall  say  what  a  butterfly's  bill  is? 
I  like  my  meals  to  bo  costing  money, 
I  envy  the  brown- winged  moth. 

Oh,  richer  than  Circe's  posset 
Where  the  beaded  bubble  clings ; 

Oh,  richer  than  all  the  Eoman  orgies 
Is  the  delicate  feast  my  fancy  forges 
In  the  old  red  houso,  in  the  closet 

Where  she  keeps  her  winter  "  things  "  1 

All  else  I  would  give  no  dam  for, 
But  this  my  appetite  spurs — 

To  feed  with  kisses  that  cost  a  guinea, 
To  feed  till  a  pain  grows  under  my  pinny, 
To  feed  till  I  perish  at  last  of  camphor 

On  her  Sardanapalian  furs.  EVOE. 


"At  the  beginning  of  his  swing  Sherlock's  left  foot  registered  sir 
stones  and  his  right  live  stones  .  .  .  and  at  the  finish  of  his  swing 
his  left  fcot  registered  nine  stones  and  his  right  foot  ono  stone." 

Daily  Neics. 
Nothing  like  golf  for  reducing  the  weight. 


From  a  notice  of  the  Japan  Society : — - 
"Mr.  Garbutt  will  read  a  paper  on  '  Japanese  Armour  from 
inside.' " 

This  should  be  warm  stuff. 


the 


200 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


WINTER    SPORT. 

VI.     A  HAPPY  ENDING. 

"  Foil  our  last  night  they  might  at 
least  have  had  a  dance,"  said  Myra, 
••  even  if  there  was  no  public  presenta- 
tion." 

••  As  we  hail  hoped,"  I  admitted. 

"What  is  a  gymkhana,  anyway?" 
asked  Thomas. 

"  A  few  little  competitions,"  said 
Archie.  "One  must  cater  for  the 
chaperons  sometimes.  You  are  all 
entered  for  the  Hat-making  and  the 
Feather-blowing — Dahlia  thought  it 
•would  amuse  you." 

"  At  Cambridge,"  I  said  reminiscently, 
"I  once  blew  the  feather  119  feet 
7  inches.  Unfortunately  I  stepped  out- 
side the  circle.  My  official  record  is 
2  feet." 

."  Did  you  ever  trim  a  hat  at  Cam- 
bridge ?  "  asked  Myra.  "  Because  you  've 
got  to  do  one  for  me  to-night." 

I  had  not  expected  this.  My  view 
of  the  competition  had  been  that  I 
should  have  to  provide  the  face  and 
that  she  would  have  to  invent  some 
suitable  frame  for  it. 

"  I  'm  full  of  ideas,"  I  lied. 

Nine  o'clock  found  a  small  row  of 
us  prepared  to  blow  the  feather.  The 
presidential  instructions  were  that  we 
had  to  race  our  feather  across  a  chalk- 
line  at  the  end  of  the  room,  anybody 
touching  his  feather  to  be  disqualified. 

"  In  the  air  or  on  the  floor?  "  asked 
Simpson  earnestly. 

"  Just  as  you  like,"  said  the  President 
kindly,  and  came  round  with  the  bag. 

I  selected  Percy  with  care — a  dear 
little  feather  about  half-an-inch  long 
and  of  a  delicate  whitey-brown  colour. 
I  should  have  known  him  again  any- 
where. 

"Go!"  said  the  President.  I  was 
rather  excited,  with  the  result  that  my 
first  blow  was  much  too  powerful  for 
Percy.  He  shot  up  to  the  ceiling  and, 
in  spite  of  all  I  could  do,  seemed 
inclined  to  stay  there.  Anxiously  I 
waited  below  with  my  mouth  open  ;  he 
came  slowly  down  at  last;  and  in  my 
eagerness  I  played  'my  second  just  a 
shade  too  soon.  It  missed  him.  My 
third  (when  I  was  ready  for  it)  went 
harmlessly  over  his  head.  A  frantic 
fourth  and  fifth  helped  him  down- 
wards ....  and  in  another  moment 
my  beautiful  Percy  was  on  the  floor.  I 
dropped  on  my  knees  and  played  my 
sixth  vigorously.  He  swirled  to  the 
left ;  I  was  after  him  like  a  shot  .  .  .  . 
and  crashed  into  Thomas.  Wo  rolled 
over  in  a  heap. 

"  Sony !  "  we  apologised  as  we  got 
back  on  to  our  hands  and  knees. 

Thomas  went  on  Wowing. 

"  Where  's  my  feather?  "  I  said. 


Thomas  was  now  two  yards  ahead, 
blowing  like  anything.  A  terrible  sus- 
picion darted  through  my  mind. 

"Thomas,"  I  said,  "you've  got  my 
feather." 

Ho  made  no  answer.  I  scrambled 
after  him. 

"  That 's  Percy,"  I  said.  "  I  should 
know  him  anywhere.  You  're  blowing 
Percy.  It 's  very  bad  form  to  blow 
another  man's  feather.  If  it  got  about, 
you  would  be  cut  by  the  county.  Give 
me  back  my  feather,  Thomas." 

"  How  do  you  know  it 's  your  fea- 
ther ?"  he  said  truculently.  "  Feathers 
are  just  alike." 

"How  do  I  know?"  I  asked  in 
amazement.  "  A  feather  that  I  've 
brought  up  from  the  egg  ?  Of  course 
I  know  Percy."  I  leant  down  to  him. 

— pcrcy,"  I  whispered.  He  darted 
forward  a  good  six  inches.  "  You 
see,"  I  said,  "  he  knows  his  name." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  Thomas, 
his  name 's  P — paul.  Look,  I  '11 
show  you." 

"You  needn't  bother,  Thomas,"  I 
said  hastily.  "  This  is  mere  trifling. 
I  knoiu  that 's  my  feather.  I  remember 
his  profile  distinctly." 

"  Then  where 's  mine  ?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  You  may  have 
swallowed  it.  Go  away  and  leave 
Percy  and  me  to  ourselves.  You're 
only  spoiling  the  knees  of  your  trousers 
by  staying  here." 

"  Paul  and  I,"  began  Thomas 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  burst  of 
applause.  Dahlia  had  cajoled  her 
feather  over  the  line  first.  Thomas 
rose  and  brushed  himself.  "  You  can 
'ave  him,"  he  said. 

"  There !  "  I  said,  as  I  picked  Percy 
up  and  placed  him  reverently  in  my 
waistcoat  pocket.  "  That  shows  that 
he  was  mine.  If  he  had  been  your 
own  little  Paul  you  would  have  loved 
him  even  in  defeat.  Oh,  musical  chairs 
now?  Eight-o."  And  at  the  President's 
touch  I  retired  from  the  arena. 

We  had  not  entered  for  musical 
chairs.  Personally  I  should  have  liked 
to,  but  it  was  felt  that,  if  none  of  us 
did,  then  it  would  be  more  easy  to  stop 
Simpson  doing  so.  For  at  musical 
chairs  Simpson  is — I  am  afraid  there  is 
only  one  word  for  it ;  it  is  a  word  that 
I  hesitate  to  use,  but  the  truth  must 
prevail — Simpson  is  rough.  He  lets 
himself  go.  He  plays  all  he  knows. 
Whenever  I  take  Simpson  out  any- 
where I  always  whisper  to  my  hostess, 
"Not  musical  chairs." 

The  last  event  of  the  evening  was 
the  hat-making  competition.  Each 
man  of  us  was  provided  with  five  large 
sheets  of  coloured  crinkly  paper,  a 
packet  of  pins,  a  pair  of  scissors  and  a 
lady  opposite  to  him. 


"  Have  you  any  plans  at  all  ?  "  asked 
Myra. 

"  Heaps.  Tell  me,  what  sort  of  hat 
would  you  like?  Something  for  the 
Park  ?  "  I  doubled  up  a  piece  of  blue 
paper  and  looked  at  it.  "  You  know, 
if  this  is  a  success,  Myra,  I  shall  often 
make  your  hats  for  you." 

Five  minutes  later  I  had  what  I 
believe  is  called  a  "  foundation."  Any- 
how, it  was  something  for  Myra  to  put 
her  head  into. 

"  Our  very  latest  Bond  Street  model," 
said  Myra.  "  Only  fifteen  guineas— 
or  three-and-ninepence  if  you  buy  it  at 
our  other  establishment  in  Battersea." 

"  Now  then,  I  can  get  going,"  I  said, 
and  I  began  to  cut  out  a  white 
feather.  "  Yes,  your  ladyship,  this  is 
from  the  genuine  bird  on  our  own 
ostrich  farm  in  the  Fulham  Eoad. 
Plucked  while  the  ingenuous  bipsd  had 
its  head  in  the  sand.  I  shall  put  that 
round  the  brim,"  and  I  pinned  it  round. 

"  What  about  a  few  roses  ?  "  said 
Myra,  fingering  the  red  paper. 

"The  roses  are  going  there  on  the 
right."  I  pinned  them  on.  "  And  a 
humming-bird  and  some  violets  next 
to  them  ...  I  say,  I  've  got  a  lot  of 
paper  over.  What  about  a  nice  piece 
of  cabbage  .  .  .  tbere  .  .  .  and  a 
bunch  of  asparagus  .  .  .  and  some 
tomatoes  and  a  seagull's  wing  on  the 
left.  The  back  still  looks  rather  bare 
— let's  have  some  poppies." 

"  There  's  only  three  minutes  more," 
said  Myra,  "  and  you  haven't  used  all 
the  paper  yet." 

"I've  got  about  one  William  Allan 
Eichardson  and  a  couple  of  canaries 
over,"  I  said,  after  examining  my  stock. 
"Let's  put  it  inside  as  lining.  There, 
Myra,  my  dear,  I  'm  proud  of  you.  I 
always  say  that  in  a  nice  quiet  hat 
nobody  looks  prettier  than  you." 

"  Time !  "  said  the  President. 

Anxious  matrons  prowled  round  us. 

"  We  don't  know  any  of  the  judges," 
I  whispered.  "  This  isn't  fair." 

The  matrons  conferred  with  the 
President.  He  cleared  his  throat. 
"  The  first  prize,"  he  said,  "  goes  to — 

But  I  had  swooned. 

-£  '','  -!<  •','  ^  •  "& 

"  Well,"  said  Archie,  "  the  Eabhits 
return  to  England  with  two  cups  won 
on  the  snowfields  of  Switzerland." 

"  Nobody  need  know,"  said  Myra, 
"which  winter-sport  they  were  won  at." 

"  Unless  I  have  '  Ski-ing,  First  Prize' 
engraved  on  mine,"  I  said,  "  as  I  had 
rather  intended." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  '  Figure-Skating ' 
on  mine,"  said  Dahlia. 

"  Two  cups,"  reflected  Archie,  "  and 
Thomas  engaged  to  three  charming 
girls.  I  think  it  has  been  worth  it, 
you  know."  A.  A.  M. 


MAKCH  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


201 


A  UNICOKN   STOKY. 

I  CAUK.IJ  not  for  his  lordship's  right, 

Nor  for  his  lordship's  rangers, 
Because  the  lanes  with  may  wore  white 

And  Age  and  I  were  strangers  ; 
In   Woolcombc    Wood    that    summer 
morn — • 

The  wisest  wood  in  Britain — 
I  found  a  baby  unicorn 

As  pretty  as  a  kitten  ! 

Most  fairylike  and  elfinwiso 

Was  he  from  hoof  to  ear-points, 
A  budding  horn  betwixt  his  eyes, 

The  tiniest  of  spear-points ; 
Beside  the  brook  where  earth  the  brocks 

He  stripped  a  sapling  sallow, 
As  ruddy  as  a  little  fox, 

As'dappled  as  a  fallow  1 

He  stamped  and  snorted  on  the  view, 

He  trotted  and  he  ambled, 
But  ever  yet  the  closer  drew 

And  in  my  shadow  gambolled ; 
I  rubbed  his  ears  and  wild  shy  head 

Where  still  the  velvet  lingers ; 
He  ate  with  grace  my  salted  bread 

And  mumbled  at  my  fingers ! 

A  mile  he  followed  o'er  the  grass 

And  took  the  crusts  I  tossed  him, 
Then,  sudden  as  the  shadows  pass, 

I  found  that  I  had  lost  him ; 
I  whistled  on  the  dainty  thing, 

None  answered  to  my  calling, 
Save  for  the  far-off,  tuneful  ring 

Of  faint-heard  echoes  falling. 

Though  naught  know  I  of  signs  and 
saints 

And  things  pertaining  thereto, 
And  portents  that  a  herald  paints, 

One  marvel  I  can  swear  to  : 
In  Woolcombe    Wood    that    summer 
morn — 

A  wood  it  ne'er  deceives  me — 
I  saw  a  little  unicorn, 

But  nobody  believes  me ! 

A    DETAIL. 

UPON  his  appointment  to  a  Colonial 
Governorship  it  seemed  meet  to  the 
members  of  his  old  department,  his 
colleagues,  deputies,  juniors  and  what- 
nots, to  give  a  dinner  to  Sir  Henry 
Kelkershows,  K.C.,  K.C.B.,  K.C.V.O., 
LL.M.,  F.B.S.L.,  and  once  President 
of  the  Wimbledon  Wanderers  A.F.C. 
Saunders  and  I  were  appointed  to  do 
all  the  dirty  work  of  the  affair,  not 
because  we  were  the  most  businesslike, 
but  because  we  had  the  least  business 
to  do.  Wo  demonstrated  our  incapacity 
from  the  start  by  keeping  all  our  notes 
and  accounts  in  separate  books,  which 
could  not  be  made  upon  comparison  to 
tally  in  any  one  important  particular. 
Over  the  mere  pecuniary  department 
we  did  not  worry  much  ;  "  let  'a  have 


Dentist  (at  first  sight  of  patient).  "You  OUGHT  TO  HAVE  COME  TO  MB  BEFORE." 
Patient  (delighted,  and  darting  for  the  door),  "  An,  I  WAS  AFBAID  I  MIGHT  BE  TOO  LATE. 
GOOD  MORNING  1 " 


the  dinner  first,"  we  agreed,  "  and  see 
about  that  afterwards."  The  graver 
difficulty  arose  when  I  telephoned  to 
Saunders  on  the  morning  of  the  ap- 
pointed day  to  say  that  the  list  was 
now  closed  and  covers  might  safely  be 
ordered  for  thirty-six  diners.  His  only 
comment  upon  this  was  that  there  were 
thirty-seven  names  on  his  list  and  it 
seemed  a  pity  to  leave  the  last  man  with 
nothing  to  eat. 

"  Have  you  counted  them  ?  "  said  I. 

He  had. 

"  Have  you  counted  them  carefully  ?  " 

He  had. 

"Then  count  them  again,"  said  I. 

He  had. 

We  adjourned  consideration  of  the 
matter  for  separate  recounts.  I  took  my 
list  and  counted  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom  ;  the  total  came  to  thirty-six.  I 
counted  from  the  bottom  to  the  top ;  the 
total  came  to  thirty-six.  I  started  in 
the  middle  and  counted  out  both  ways, 
and  still  the  total  came  to  thirty-six. 
Then  I  rang  up  Saunders  again. 


"  Well,"  I  said  tolerantly,  "  what  do 
you  make  it  now  ?  " 

"  Thirty-seven.     And  you  ?  " 

There  seemed  nothing  for  it  but  that 
I  should  go  and  see  Saunders  per- 
sonally, except  that  Saunders  should 
come  and  see  me.  This  I  brought 
about.  I  produced  to  him  my  list,  the 
cheques  I  had  received  and  all  other 
data,  and  waited  for  him  to  confess  that 
he  was  no  mathematician. 

"  There  is  no  method  known  to 
science,"  I  said,  "  by  which  you  can 
arrive  at  a  total  other  than  thirty-six." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  lie,  as  he  proceeded 
to  compare  his  list  with  mine.  "  But 
it  seems  to  me  that  you  have  omitted 
the  name  of  one  person  who,  I  have 
reason  to  suppose,  will  be  present  at 
this  affair." 

It  appeared  that  he  was  right  after 
all.  It  is  odd  how  these  little  things 
escape  one.  I  had  omitted  to  include 
Sir  Henry  Kelkershows,  KG.,  K.C.B., 
K.C.V.O.,  LL.M.,  F.R.S.L.,  and  once 
President  of  the  W.W.A.F.C. 


202 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


Cool;.  "LcoK  HERE!     WHAT  D'YOU  MEAN  BY  BRINGING  ME  THIS?     MISSIS  ORDERED 

LAMB,   HOT  MUTTON." 

Butcher  Boy.  "THAT'S  ALL  RIGHT,  OLE  DEAR;    PRIME  CUT  o'  I.ARST  TEAR'S  LAMB!" 


LETTERS  THAT  HELP  US. 

THE  soul-shaking  coincidences  noted 
by  a  correspondent  of  The  Pall  Mall 
Gazette  (March  4)  in  regard  to  the 
initials  of  the  surnames  of  the  Oxford 
crew  have  stimulated  some  of  our 
readers  to  similar  activity  in  this  in- 
tellectual pastime.  Some  of  the  most 


|  luminous  contributions  are  here  sub 

|  joined : — • 

SIB, — As  a  pendant  to  the  remarkable 
coincidences  noted  by   The  Pall  Mai 
Gazette  with  regard  to  the  initials  o 
the  Oxford  crew,  may  1  be  permitted  t 
point  out  the  astonishing  fact  that  th 
present  Liberal  Administration  luu 
CREWE  of  its  own,  who  was  educate 


it  Cambridge  and  until  recently  was  in 
harge  of  the  Colonial  Office? 

Yours,  etc.,  A.  TABU. 

SIR, — May  I  call  attention  to  the 
singular  coincidence  brought  to  my 
cnowledge  during  a  recent  visit  to  the 
STcw  Forest  ?  Malwood,  the  residence 
of  the  lute  Sir  WILLIAM  HARCOURT,  is 
quite  close  to  the  Rufus  stone,  while 
\h:  LEWIS  HARCOURT,  the  present 
Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colonies,  is 
constantly  contiguous  at  Cabinet  meet- 
ngs  to  the  Attorney-General,  Sir  RUFUS 
[SAACS.  In  this  context  may  I  ask 
f  any  of  your  readers  can  inform  me 
ivhether  it  is  really  the  case  that  the 
present  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  BOARD  OP 
AGRICULTURE,  when  driving  from  the 
;ee,  invariably  uses  a  runcible  spoon 
and  not  a  driver  ? 

Yours,  etc.,     ANXIOUS  INQUIRER. 

SIR, — May  I  call  your  attention  to  a 
wonderful  coincidence  that  has  so  far 
iscaped  the  notice  of  experts?  Last 
Friday,  Professor  Sir  ARTHUR  QUILLKR- 
Coucn  was  entsrtained  by  the  Wh itc- 
h-Jars Club  and  had  his  health  proposed 
by  Sir  WILLIAM  ROBERTSON  NICJLL. 
Not  only  were  they  both  knights  and 
Whitefriar  knights,  but  while  the 
initials  of  Sir  ARTHUR  QUILLER-COUOH'S 
surname  form  the  title  Q.C.,  those  of 
his  health  proposer  are  E.N.  The 
fact  that  the  Professor  has  never  been 
called  to  the  Bar,  while  Sir  WILLIAM 
ROBERTSON  NICOLL  never  served  in 
the  Navy,  only  enhances  the  singularity 
of  the  coincidence. 

Yours,  etc.,       TIBERIUS  MUDD. 

DEAK  SIR, — The  curious  similarity 
between  the  name  of  the  Progressive 
leader  and  the  bell  in  the  Westminster 
clock  tower  deserves,  I  think,  to  be 
chronicled  at  this  juncture.  The  fact 
that  the  former  is  spelt  with  two  "n's," 
while  the  latter  only  has  one,  will 
doubtless  furnisli  food  for  philologists. 
Apropos  of  municipal  politics  I  cannol 
refrain  from  noting  that  in  Bermondsey 
the  name  of  the  unsuccessful  Labour 
candidate  was  AMMON.  Can  this  be  a 
descendant  of  the  Jupiter  Ammon  o 
whom  I  used  to  hear  in  my  childhood? 
Yours,  etc., 

BALMERINO  DOTT. 

DEAR  SIR, — May  I  draw  your  atten 
tion  to  the  significant  nomenclature  o 
some  of  the  leading  billiard  players  o 
to-day  ?     DIGGLE  is  a  namesake  of  the 
Bishopof  CARLISLE.  EEECE  is  obviouslj 
a  relation  of  the.  eminent  sailor  immor 
talized  in  one  of  the  ballads  of  the  late 
Sir  W.  S.  GILBERT.     GRAY  recalls  the 
author  of  the  famous  "  Elegy,"  while 
STEVENSON  carries  our  thoughts  from 
the  green  cloth  to  the  green  foliage  o 
Samoa.        Yours,  etc., 

(MRS.)  GAGA  Toor. 


PUNCII,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHART  YAM.— MARCH   12,  1913. 


THE    GERMAN    LLOYD. 

KAISER  WILHELM  (on  the  new  Berlin-London  telephone).  "HULLO,    IS    THAT    THE    CHANCELLOR? 
I    SAY,    WHAT    DO    YOU    THINK    OF    MY    NEW    IDEA    OP    TAXING    CAPITAL?" 
MR.  LLOYD  GEOKGE.  "  EXCELLENT,    SIR.      MOST    FLATTERING,    I  'M    SURE." 
KAISEK  WILHELM.  "  AND    WHAT    DO    YOU    DO    WHEN    THEY    KICK?" 
MR.  LLOYD  GEOHOE.  "TAX    'EM    ALL    THE    MORE." 


MARCH  12,  I'll 3.] 


PUNCH,    OR   TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


205 


"YES,    I    LIKED    THE    SERVICE,    BUT    I   NEVER    ENJOY    SUNDAY    IN   THE    COUNTRY.      I    CAN1!    DEAR    TO    THINK    OP    THAT    PEW-RENT 
BUNKING   ON  AT  HOME   ALL  THE  TIME." 


IN  THE  TEETH  OF  EESISTANCE. 

I  WENT  into  the  place  which  was 
called  a  Drug  Stores.  There  were  one  or 
two  cameras  in  the  window,  a  number 
of  scent  hottles  and  some  portraits  of 
celebrities  in  the  pharmaceutical  world 
—Mr.  SIMS,  Mr.  SANDOW,  Miss  PHYLLIS 
DAKE,  and  so  on.  I  said  to  the  eminent 
Harley  Street  specialist  who  stood  be- 
hind the  bar,  "  I  want  a  tubo  of 
Kallinikos  Tooth  Paste,  please."  He 
moved  away  two  or  three  steps,  prised 
up  one  of  the  glass  cases  of  his  museum, 
and  said,  "We  have  a  much  better 
preparation  here  called  Tenika,  if  you 
care  to  try  it."  I  said,  "  I  want  a  tube 
of  Kallinikos  Tooth  Paste,  please."  He 
said,  "  Tenika  is  now  being  recom- 
mended by  all  the  most  fashionable 
physicians.  It  is  the  best  germicide 
in  the  world ;  another  advantage  of  it 
is  that  you  get  more  of  it  for  a  shilling." 
I  said,  "I  want  a  tube  of  Kallinikos 
Tooth  Paste,  please."  "Tenika,"  he 
said,  "is  the  best  preparation  in  the 
market.  All  our  customers  find  that 
they  prefer  it  to  Kallinikos.  I  use 
Tenika  myself." 


I  gazed  round  the  emporium  in  silent 
despair.  Then  I  moved  away  to  a 
corner  and  sat  down  on  a  weighing- 
machine,  between  a  large  basket  of 
sponges  and  a  little  conventicle  of 
soda-water  syphons.  I  looked  for  some 
time  at  their  silent,  patient  faces,  then 
I  looked  at  the  door.  Outside  ran  the 
careless  stream  of  London's  traffic. 
I  bowed  my  head  in  my  hands  and 
thought.  Then  I  had  a  bright  idea. 
I  got  up  and  went  to  the  consulting 
counter  again.  The  Rosicrucian  was 
still  there.  "  Acolyte  of  J^sculapius," 
I  said  to  him  solemnly,  with  a  tear  in 
my  voice,  "  you  are  one  of  the  initiated ; 
you  swing  a  censer  in  the  sacred  shrine ; 
you  serve  the  son  of  Apollo.  It  is  not 
to  be  expected  that  a  miserable  pilgrim 
like  myself  can  come  up  to  your  style, 
but  in  all  things  possible  I  should  like 
to  imitate  you.  Tell  mo  what  is  the 
hair-oil  that  you  use — what  the  sapona- 
ceous detergent,  and  I  will  strive  to 
follow  your  example.  Tell  me  the  shape 
of  your  lufah,  the  size  of  your  bath. 
Tell  me  where  you  get  the  wonderful 
pine-breathing  pastilles  that  make  your 
voice  so  melodious,  and  I  also  will  send 


for  a  sample  bottle  as  per  '  ad."  Tell 
me  everything  about  your  private  life, 
and  the  name  and  address  of  the  young 
lady  you  walk  out  with,  and  I  will  try 
to  love  her  too.  But  spare  me  this  one 
foible.  Say,  if  you  like,  that  I  have 
a  rich  uncle  who  will  disinherit  me  if 
he  ever  hears  of  my  using  any  other 
tooth  paste.  Think  that  I  have  ac- 
quired a  morbid  craving,  now  too  strong 
to  be  overcome,  for  this  miserable,  in- 
effectual fangwash.  Only  be  merciful, 
and  give  me  a  tube  of  Kallinikos !  " 

Looking  deeply  grieved,  he  wrapped 
the  abhorred  dentifrice  in  a  little  piece 
of  paper,  sealed  it  and  placed  it  on  the 
counter.  Just  then  a  stranger  came 
in  and  went  up  to  the  oracle.  "  I 
want  a  tube  of  Kallinikos  Tooth  Paste," 
he  said.  And  he  got  it  immediately, 
without  demur.  Ho  was  a  weak- 
looking  man  and  did  not  appear  to 
have  any  gift  of  rhetorical  persuasion. 
It  would  have  fared  ill  with  him,  I 
think,  if  it  had  not  been  for  me.  And 
if  he  knew  all  that  I  had  done  for 
him  he  would  not  have  broached  his 
little  tube  that  night  without  first  of 
all  lifting  a  silent  glass  to  my  memory. 


200 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


A    FAIR    FIELD. 

To  the  Editor  of  "  Punch." 

(Three  Enclosures.) 
The  Blashyrore  liegistn/  Office, 

Blashgrovc  Terrace,  i>MJ". 
DEAR  SIR, — I  noticed  recently  in 
your  columns  a  letter  from  Messrs. 
Trewer  and  Trewer,  House  Agents, 
calling  attention  to  tho  frank  and  honest 
descriptions  of  properties  to  let  appear- 
ing in  their  advertisements.  I  there- 
fore beg  to  inform  you  that  I  have 
lately  adopted  similar  principles  in  my 
business,  as  it  is  found  that  ladies  are 
apt  to  state  tho  attractions  of  the 
situations  they  want  filled,  but  neglect 
to  mention  the  drawbacks.  At  this 
moment  a  letter  is  before  me 
from  a  lady  who  describes  at 
length  a  pot  with  india- 
rubber  plant  on  the  kitchen 
window-sill,  but  makes  no 
reference  to  the  fact  that  the 
house  is  of  four  floors  and  all 
coal  and  water  have  to  be 
carried  up  from  the  basement. 
I  make  a  point  of  ascertain- 
ing tho  true  circumstances 
in  each  case  so  that  neither 
mistress  nor  servant  will  be 
misled  by  tho  descriptions  in 
my  monthly  list  of  Sits. 
Wanted  and  Sits.  Vacant 
(Id.  post  free).  I  enclose 
three  cuttings  taken  at  ran- 
dom from  my  current  list 
which  will  show  you  the 
fairness  of  tho  claims  I  make 
for  myself. 

Yours  faithfully, 

(Mrs.)  P.  A.  BLUNT. 
P.S. — 1  ought  to  mention 
that  people  who  have  been 
brought  up  among  black- 
beetles  get  to  like  them,  and  that,  as  is 
geneially  known,  they  are  lucky,  and 
no  house  where  there  are  plenty  of 
black-beetles  ever  takes  fire. 


room.  No  followers  allowed,  but  mice 
arc  friendly,  and  black-booties  all  that 
could  be  desired — they  are  stated  to 
"  dearly  love  a  bit  of  music."  There 
are  also  some  toads  in  tho  coal-cellar 
which  might  be  made  a  source  of 
amusement.  Liberal  allowance  of  fly- 
papers  all  the  year  round.  Drawing- 
room  is  on  first  floor ;  there  is  no  Bath- 
room, and  water  has  to  be  carried  from 
basement.  Applicant  would  be  required 
to  wash  dogs  once  a  week,  clean  bicycle, 
and  rub  up  brass  on  harness  of  pony- 
trap.  Late  dinner ;  breakfast  7.30. 
Dogs'  dinner  is  served  at  12  o'clock. 
Meat  allowed  once  a  day ;  faro  as 
follows : — 

Sunday. — Joint. 

Monday. — Hash,  or  cold  meat. 


Tlie  Nut  (on  Ids  first  voyage).  "I  BAT,  WHAT  is  THAT  LIGHT  OVER 

THEBE  THAT  KEEPS   BOBBIN1    IN  AND  OUT?" 

Quartermaster.  "  THAT  's  THE  NOBE  LIGHTSHIP,  Sin." 

The  Nut.  "  JOVE  I   is  IT,  REALLY?    DC  srou  KNOW,  I  THOUGHT  IT 

WAS  A  BALLY  WlLL-O'-THE-WlSP." 


WANTED,    AT    ONCE.    COOK-HOUSE- 

PARLOUR-KENNELMAID.       Only    two     in 

family,  but  there  are  five  St.  Bernard 
dogs,  and  the  children  next  door  run  in 
and  out.  Basement  Kitchen  eight  feet 
three  inches  by  twelve  feet  seven  inches, 
looking  on  to  back  area,  on  wall  of 
which  several  rare  fungi  luxuriate  and 
would  well  repay  study.  Kitchen  lighted 
with  gas-jet  in  addition  to  window. 
Bango  does  not  smoke  when  door  is 
closed.  An  iron  cylinder  over  mantel- 
piece containing  seventy  gallons  of 
boiling  water  keeps  Kitchen  warm  even 
in  coldest  weather.  In  Summer  the 
operation  of  cooking  has  been  compared 
to  stoking  a  battleship  in  the  Eed  Sea, 
but  the  area  may  be  used  as  a  sitting- 


Tuesday. — Cold  meat  or  hash  (left 
over  from  Monday). 

Wednesday. — Hash  (left  over  from 
Tuesday). 

Thursday. — Hash  (left  over  from 
Wednesday). 

Friday. — Hash  (left  over  from  Thurs- 
day). 

Saturday. — Hash  (left  over  from 
Friday)  or  grilled  bones. 

Evening  out  every  second  Sunday  in 
third  month,  unless  Master  and  Mis- 
tress at  home.  Matrimonial  aspirations 
discouraged.  Attic  bedroom ;  sheet  of 
zinc  has  now  been  nailed  over  damp 
place  in  wall.  Comfortable  home  for 
serious-minded  girl  and  lover  of  nature 
not  more  than  5  feet  1\  inches  in 
height,  as  scullery  ceiling  is  low. 
Wages,  £11  10s.,  rising  to  £12  5s. 

CLERGYMAN'S  WIDOW  is  anxious  to 
recommend  Parlourmaid  (who  wishes 


to  better  herself)  as  she  fears  she  will  be 
poisoned  if  she  refuses  to  do  so.  Tall, 
dark  eyes,  handsome,  nice  manners, 
ladylike  appearance.  May  bo  trusted 
with  Britannia  metal  and  low-grade 
electro -plate.  Has  simple,  trustful 
nature,  and  if  given  custody  of  will 
drawn  in  her  favour  would  not  suspect 
existence  of  a  later  will.  May  now  bo 
engaged  tinder  advantageous  circum- 
stances as  none  of  her  male  acquaint- 
ances or  relatives  will  be  out  on  ticket- 
of-leave  for  at  least  eighteen  months. 

WANTED,  HOUSE-PARLOURMAID,  by 
lady  of  ample  means  who  has  become 
an  "Invalid"  as  the  easiest  way  of 
getting  attention  paid  to  he.  self. 
Should  be  thoroughly  muscular  and  of 
athletic  taste's  as  drawing- 
room  is  on  ground  floor  and 
bedroom  on"  second  floor, 
and  "  Invalid,"  who  weighs 
sixteen  stone,  never  walks 
except  to  come  down  to 
basement  to  listen  at  kitchen 
door.  Last  Houss-parlour- 
maid  dismissed  for  surprising 
her  at  key-hole,  and  previous 
one  for  saying,  "  You  look 
quite  well  to-day,  madam." 
Applicant  must  be  prepared 
to  share  carrying  chair  (heavy 
end)  with  ancient  retainer. 
Chair  drill  as  follows : — 

11.30.— Bedroom  to  draw- 
ing-room. 

1.10.  —  Drawing-room  to 
hedroom. 

2.30. — Bedroom  to  street 
(dead  lift  into  carriage  for 
Applicant). 

3.50. — Street  to  bedroom 
(dead  lift  for  Applicant). 

4.45. — Bedroom  to  draw- 
ing-room. 
7.0. — Drawing-room  to  bedroom. 
All   meals   served    in    bedroom,   in- 
cluding   fried    sole    and    Chablis,    at 
2.15  A.M.,  and  three  oysters  and  brown 
bread  at  dawn.   Burglar  and  fire  alarms 
tested  three  times  a  month  at  midnight. 
A  previous  House-parlourmaid  married 
the  doctor's  chauffeur. 


Amusements  of  Well-dressed  Men. — I. 

''Frequent  robberies  which  have  occurred 
at  houses  in  Birmingham  suburbs  during  tho 
occupants'  atsanco  are  believed  to  be  the  work 
of  well-dressed  men,  who,  on  receiving  no 
answer  to  their  ring,  force  the  doors,  and  then 
raising  their  hats  to  imaginary  persons  walk 
oft." — Overseas  Mail. 


"The  Brick  and  Tilo  Company  riave  t>>en 
entrusted  with  an  order  for  400,000  double 
chequered  blue  tiles  for  consignment  to  Hol- 
land. As  it  takes  4,000  of  these  tiles  to  weigh 
a  ton,  the  total  weight  of  tho  consignment  will 
bo  1,600  tons."— Oswestry  Advertiser. 

This  estimate  includes  the  straw. 


MARCH  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


207 


VAKSITY    SHOP. 

THE  suggestion  has  recently  been 
pat  forward  that  tho  old  Universities 
should  become  moro  closely  associated 
with  commerce.  There  seems  indeed 
no  reason  why  they  should  not  asso- 
ciate themselves  directly  with  trade  by 
founding  businesses,  putting  forward 
proprietary  articles  of  their  own,  and 
:illy  making  use  of  the  advertising 
runs  of  the  Press. 

For  instance: — 


I  HEAR  THEY  WANT  MOKE 
BALLIOL  (OXON.). 


GOOD  MORNING  I 
HAVE  YOU  USED  CLABE'S  SOAP? 


A.  C.  BENSON, 

Magdaleno  College,  Cambridge, 

PROPRIETOR 

OF  THE 

COLLKGE  WINDOW-CLEANING 
COMPANY. 


TRY  OUB 
WORCESTER  SAUCE, 

DELICIOUS   WITH 

PROVOST  OATS. 


HAVE  YOU   THAT  TIRED  FEELING? 

SEE  OUR  CAMBRIDGE  BACKS. 


OXFORD  FOR  HIGH-CLASS  COLLARS, 
as  patronized  by  the  lato  CECIL  RHODES. 
ALL  SHAPES — HALF-BACK,  THREE- 
QUARTER-BACK,  ETC. 
MADE  IN  RONDEBOSCII. 


YVO.NNE. 

I  HAVE  always  said  that  if  ever  I 
met  Yvonne  I  should  fall  in  love  with 
her.  You,  perhaps,  are  an  unromantic 
person  ;  you  could  not  fall  in  love  with 
a  mere  name  ;  that  would  bo  absurd. 
You,  perhaps,  aro  happily  married  to 
Amelia  (or  Eliza).  But  why  was  she 
favoured  above  all  others  ?  For  some 

unu  which  I'll  wager  you  can't 
describe.  What,  for  the  matter  of  that, 
did  Eliza  (or  Amelia)  see  in  you  ?  She, 
poor  dear,  may  by  this  time  have 
fallen  to  wondering ;  but  I  will  not 
dwell  upon  that. 

Only  remember  this:  her  charm  and 
yours  may  fade,  but  Yvonne  is  always 


DISTINCTION. 

"LooK,  MOTHER  I     THERE'S  THE  LADY  THAT  SELONGS  TO  THE  LITTLE  DOG  NEXT  DOOB!" 


Yvonne.  To  get  a  letter  signed 
Yvonne  " ;  to  call  from  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  "  Yvonne."  Try  it ;  and  then 
have  a  shot  at  Amelia  (or  Eliza)  after- 
wards. But  first  of  all  you  must  hear 
the  story. 

You  know  those  initials  they  put  at 
the  top  of  business  letters?  Perhaps 
you  are  not  in  business  ?  I  congra- 
tulate you.  Well,  suppose  you  were, 
and  that  your  name  was  Cyrus  K. 
Bulger,  and  the  name  of  one  of  your 
many  typists  Euphemia  Stunt.  Then 
at  the  top  of  every  letter  you  dictated 
to  the  fair  Euphemia  would  appear  the 
mystic  sign  C.K.B./E.S.,  so  that  if 
anything  went  wrong  you  could  share 
the  blame  publicly  and  fight  it  out  in 
private.  But  supposing  that  one  bright 
spring  morning  I  had  a  letter  from  you 
marked  C.K.B./Y.A.,  what  then?  I 
should  call  at  your  office,  and  there 
would  be  a  vacancy  in  your  staff  with- 
out formal  notice. 

Now  this  is  what  actually  happened. 
I  did  get  a  letter  marked  C.K.B./Y.A., 
from  my  friend  Charles  Kay  Bradshaw, 


of  the  Life  and  Liberty  Insurance 
Company ;  and  I  went  to  his  office  in 
search  of  Yvonne.  Ever  since  I  bad 
known  Charles  it  had  been  C.K.B./O.A. ; 
that  must  be  Olive,  I  thought,  or 
Ophelia,  dark,  beautiful,  interesting — 
the  elder  sister ;  but  Yvonne  1 

How  I  treasured  that  letter,  with  its 
queer  little  mistakes !  She  had  not 
mastered  the  horrid  machine  yet,  and 
she  never  would — I  would  see  to. that. 
I  had  never  been  to  Charles's  office 
before,  and  when  I  arrived  I  did  not 
know  whom  to  ask  for.  It  was  Miss 
Adair,  I  felt  certain,  Yvonne  Adair, 
the  loveliest  name  in  the  world.  How- 
ever, I  began  with  Charles.  He  was 
businesslike ;  we  would  get  to  the 
point  at  once.  Who  had  typed  the 
letter  ?  I  held  it  out  tremblingly  and 
he  looked  at  it  without  emotion. 

"  Atkins,"  ho  said. 

"  Christian  name?  "  I  cried. 

"  Oswald,"  said  Charles,  simply. 
"  But  that  *s  his  father's  name,  too ; 
so  we  call  the  son  'Young  Atkins'.' 
Have  you  any  objection  ?  " 


208 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


"A   LITTLE   BIT  OF   BLUE." 

WHEN  the  -waves  rise  high  and  higher  as  they  toss  about 

together, 
And  the  March-winds,  loosed  and  angry,  cat  your  chilly 

heart  in  two, 
Hero  are  eighteen  gallant  gentlemen  who  come  to  face  the 

weather 
All  for  valour  and  for  honour  and  a  little  bit  of  blue! 

Chorus. 

Oh  get  hold  of  it  and  shove  it ! 
It  is  labour,  but  you  love  it ; 

Lot  your  stroke  be  long  and  mighty ;  keep  your  body  on 
the  swing ; 

While  your  pulses  dance  a  measure 
Full  of  pride  and  full  of  pleasure, 
And  the  boat  flies  free  and  joyous  like  a  swallow  on  the  wing. 

Isis  blessed  her  noble  youngsters  as  they  left  her ;  Father 

Camus 
Sped  his  youths  to  fame  and  Putney  from  his  grey  and 

ancient  Courts : — 
"  Keep,"  they  said,  "  the  old  traditions,  and  we  know  you 

will  not  shame  us 

When  you  try  the  stormy  tideway  in  your  zephyrs  and 
your  shorts. 

"  For  it 's  toil  and  tribulation  till  your  roughnesses   are 

-    polished,' 
And  it  "s  bitterness  and  sorrow  till  the  work  of  oars  is 

done; 
But  it 's  high  delight  and  triumph  when  your  faults  are 

all  abolished, 
With  yourself  and  seven  brothers  firmly  welded  into  one." 

So  they  stood  the  weary  trial  and  the  people  poured  to 

greet  them, 
Filled  a  cup  with  praise  and  welcome — it  was  theirs  to 

take  and  quaff ; 
And  they  ranged  their  ships  alongside,   and   the   umpire 

came  to  meet  them, 

And  they  stripped  themselves  and  waited  till  his  pistol 
sent  them  off. 

With  a  dash  and  spurt  and  rally ;  with  a  swing  and  drive 

and  rattle, 
Both  the  boats  went  flashing  faster  as  they   cleft  the 

swelling  stream ; 

And  the  old  familiar  places,  scenes  of  many  a  sacred  battle, 
Just  were  seen  for  half  a  moment  and  went  by  them  in  a 
dream. 

But  at  last  the  flag  has  fallen  and  the  splendid  fight  is 

finished, 

And  the  victory  is  blazoned  on  the  record-roll  of  Fame. 
They  are  spent  and  worn  and  broken,  but  their  soul  is 

undiminished ; 

There  are  winners  now  and  losers,  but  their  glory  is  the 
same! 

Chorus. 

Oh  get  hold  of  it  and  shove  it ! 
It  is  labour,  but  you  love  it ; 
Let  your  stroke  be  long  and  mighty ;  keep  your  body  on 
the  swing ; 

While  your  pulses  dance  a  measure 
Full  of  pride  and  full  of  pleasure, 
And  the  boat  flies  free  and  joyous  like  a  swallow  on  the 

E.  C.  L. 


BY   FAVOUR   OF  THE    MILITANTS. 

[The  issue  of  the  following  circular  in  imitation  of  certain  gracious 
concessions  made  by  Strike  Committees  may  shortly  bo  expected.] 

NOTICE.    . 

In  response  to  numerous  requests,  the  W.  S.  &  P.  U.  beg 
to  announce  that  they  have  arranged  for  a  series  of 

PASSES 

which  they  are  prepared  to  grant  to  suitable  persons  who 
are  able  to  give  satisfactory  proof  of  their  attachment  to 
the  Cause.  The  Passes,  some  of  which  are  of  a  graduated 
value,  will  be  issued  as  follows : — 

(1)  Public  Speakers,  Members  of  Parliament,  etc. 

Persons  able  to  satisfy  the  Committee  of  their  entire 
attachment  to  the  Cause  are  granted  Pass  A,  which  entitles 
them  to  complete  freedom  from  interruption. 

Persons  able  to  satisfy  the  Committee  of  their  partial 
attachment  to  the  Cause  will  be  granted  Pass  B,  which 
entitles  them  to  speak  with  interruptions  occurring  only  at 
the  end  of  each  completed  sentence.  ' 

[N.B.— The  constitution  of  a  completed  sentence  will  be 
explained  on  referring  to  any  member  of  the  Committee.] 

(2)'  Golf  Clubs. 

Passes  will  be  granted  to  golf  clubs  upon  the  following 
terms,  viz. : — 

(a)  Clubs  in  which  the  entire  Committee  give  satisfactory 
proof  of  attachment  to  the  Cause  will  be  permitted  Passes 
to  be  attached  to  the  pins  on  the  greens,  which  greens  will 
then  be  exempt  from  alterations. 

(b)  Clubs  in  which  only  a  majority  of  the  Committee  are 
in  favour  of  the  Cause  will  be  permitted  a  Pass  entitling 
them  to  exemption  from  any  further  damage  than  is  in- 
volved by  the  making  of  one  small  bunker  on  every  other 
green. 

(3)  Public  Gardens. 

Public  Gardens  with  two  or  more  Buildings,  Pavilions, 
or  Stands  of  any  description  erected  within  their  grounds, 
will,  on  satisfactory  proof  being  given  that  a  majority  of 
their  officials  are  in  sympathy  with  the  Cause,  bo  granted 
a  pass  entitling  them  to  have  only  one  of  such  buildings, 
stan'ds,  &c.,  destroyed,  always  provided  that  proper  facilities 
are  afforded  by  the  said  officials,  who  must  in  all  cases 
have  the  buildings  suitably  furnished  with  tar,  paraffin, 
&c.,  before  the  arrival  of  the  officer  of  the  W.  S.  &  P.  U. 

(4)  Letters  and  all  Correspondence* 
Passes  will  be  granted  to  completely  satisfactory  persons 
only.    These  Passes  entitle  the  holder  to  the  use  of  a  letter- 
box to  be  set  up  at  Clifford's  Inn.     All  letters  posted  ir 
this  box  will  be  immune  from  damage. 

(5)  Magistrates,  Judges,  d'C. 

Active  sympathisers  among  the  above  will  be  grantee 
Pass  A,  giving  complete  immunity  from  assault. 

Pass  B,  for  passive  sympathisers,  excuses  the  holder: 
from  attack,  except  with  (1)  books  below  the  weight  o 
2  Ibs. ;  (2)  single-pot  inkstands. 

(6)  Employers  of  latch-keys. 

Members  of  the  General  Public  desirous  of  obtainin; 
Passes  (to  be  pasted  on  their  front-doors)  giving  freedor 
of  access  by  latch-key  should  apply  to  the  office  of  th 
W.  S.  &  P.  U.,  accompanying  their  applications  in  a! 
cases  with  a  declaration  to  the  effect  that  they  are  nc 
(1)  opposed  to  the  principle  of  Votes  for  Women,  (': 
Cabinet  Ministers. 


MARCH  12,  1913.] PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  209 

HOW    SCOTLAND    YARD    DETECTIVES    ARE    TRAINED. 


STUDENTS  FOLLOWING  A  SCENT  BLINDFOLDED. 


FltACTISIXG   THE   "  SHERLOCK  "    SrBING   OS  A  DUJUIT. 


HIDING  c?  coitxEns.    (A  FISE  AHT.) 


LEAESISG  TO  DETECT  FALSE  HAm,  WHISKERS,  MOCSTACHES,  EYEBHOWS,  ETC.,  •wrrnocT  TOUCHIXO. 


210 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAEI. 


12,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  Hi:u  SIDE  OF  THK  HOUSE." 


wrinkles  from  her  husband  (when  he 
pays  a  call),  and  from  a  wicked  lady 


gave  expression  to  them  with  a  candour 
that  greatly  diverted  the  house.    If  the 


IF  I  wore  a  Dramatic  Censor  I  should  , 


put  my  ban  on  all  plays  in  which  the  peculiar  home. 

physical  relations  of  a  newly  married  I  But  her  whole  time  is  not  given  to 
pair  are  discussed.  An  audience  that  j  the  accumulation  of  first  principles ; 
is  left  cold  by  the  most  lurid  vice  may  ,  incidentally  she  is  drawing  compari- 
get  very  hot  and  uncomfortable  over  ,  sons  between  her  lover  (in  theory)  and 


with  a  past  to  draw  upon  and  designs  play  is  saved,  the  medal  must  certainly 
of  her  own   on   the   sanctity  of 


certain  phases  of  the  domestic  virtues 
The  vicious  people  in  this  rather  foolish 
play  were  harmlessly  absurd  ;  but  about 
all  the  business  of  a  separate  establish 


her  husband,  in  favour  of  the  latter. 
How  long  the  process  might  have  con- 
tinued I  dare  not  conjecture ;  but  only 
a  few  months  had  elapsed  when  one 


ment  for  bride  and  bridegroom  there  night,  Grandmamma — a  very  practical 
was  an  atmosphere  of  indecency.  Not '  old  dowager — put  her  foot  down,  took 
the  robust  indecency  of  a  French  farce, :  the  heifer,  so  to  say,  by  the  horns,  and 
but  the  half-baked  sort  at  which 
you  are  supposed  to  bo  free  to 
snigger  because  you  don't  see  the 
legal  tie  broken  but  only  vulgar- 
ised. There  is  vulgarity  enough 
— heaven  knows — in  a  social 
system  that  daily  delights  in  the 
public  exploitation  of  a  private 
sacrament;  but  the  authors  of 
Her  Side  of  the  House  do  not  set 
out  to  satirize  this;  they  are 
busied  to  invent  new  vulgarities 
of  their  own. 

And  a  far  and  fantastic  search 
they  have  to  make  for  them. 
They  shew  us  a  convent-bred 
girl  for  whom  her  French  grand- 
mamma arranges  a  marriage  with 
an  English  marquis,  neither  side 
making  any  profession  of  love. 
He  wants  her  money  and  she 
wants  freedom.  Not  freedom 
simply  from  grandmotherly  con- 
trol ;  she  has  larger  notions  of 
liberty ;  she  wants  to  experiment 
in  the  meaning  of  love,  of  which 
her  knowledge  is  pardonably 
hazy;  and  she  wants  to  choose 
her  own  teachers.  So  she  dis- 
penses with  a  honeymoon  and 
splits  up  her  husband's  house  into 
two  parts,  one  for  herself  and 

her  friends,  and  one  for  him  and  Wlth  the  footman  behmd  the  scenes- 
his.   ^They  have  (I  gathered)  a  "  Lounge  locked  her  out  of  her  side  of  the  house. 

11:1  fl.        Ml  1 1  I  £1.1  VI  .V/~t/"\m  art  si         CTQ**TTII  •*->  4-  (-1*          A       ,  , , ,;  .  ,„      '  „     i.1 l_ 1 i  '    .  •  ,  1 


THE  "  SIDE  OF  THE  HOUSE"  THAT  WE  SHOULD  HAVE 
LIKED  TO  SEE. 


Hall,"  a  billiard-room,  and  servants' 
offices  in  common ;  but  nothing  was  said, 
I  think,  about  a  mutual  restaurant. 

All  this  sounds  a  little  licentious, 
but  it  is  arranged  with  a  great  air  of 
innocence,  as  if  the  girl  were  dealing 
with  a  doll's  house — not,  of  course,  the 
IBSEN  kind.  Once  established  in  "  her 
our  ingenue  pro- 

in   the  science  of 

liros.  She  is  not  particular  where  she 
gets  her  answers  to  such  elementary 
questions  as  "What  is  passion?'" 
"  What  is  love  ?  "  At  one  time  it  is  a 
former  admirer— a  very  dashing  fellow 
,in  the  text) — who  conducts  her  educa- 
tion ;  at  another  it  is  a  blameless  old 
nanicurist  from  whom  she  seeks 
enlightenment.  Then  again  she  gets 


side  of 
secutes 


the  house 
her   studies 


A  prisoner  in  the  neutral  section,  with 
no  way  of  escape  except  to  the  bride- 
groom's territory,  she  overhears  (it  is 


a  way 
which 


she  has)  a 
she  learns 


conversation   from 
that    his   lordship, 


this  I  go    to    Mr.    SPENCER    TREVOR,    who 
brought  this  relief. 

I  confess  to  having  felt  a  little  shock 
when  I  saw  that  Mr.  GODFREY  TEARLE 
was  to  be  a  British  marquis;   but  he 
played  with  a  very  reticent  propriety 
and  did  all  that  was  possible  to  preserve 
the  decencies.    Miss  DULCE  MUSGRAVE 
who  was  the  bride,  has  a  gentle  voice 
and,  for  a  debutante,  acquitted  herseli 
well.     She  was  natural  in  her  gaiety, 
but  when  she  had  serious  things  to  say 
she  was  apt  to  take  on  the  intonation 
of  the  stage,  so  that  you  might 
have  thought  she  had  been  on  the 
boards  for  years  and  years.    Miss 
HELEN    FERRERS    as    a    grande 
dame   sans   incrci    had   no   diffi- 
culty about  keeping  in  her  own 
particular  groove.     Mr.  DEACON 
had  an  ungrateful  part  to  play  as 
the  lover,  and  lady-killing  is  not 
his  metier.     As  for  the  villainess, 
who  stayed  on  tho  bride's  side 
of  the  house,  I  think  she  would 
have  been  more  at  home  on  the 
Surrey  side  of  the  Thames. 

It  is  not  a  bad  fault  that  Mr. 
WORKALL'S  ambition  should  out- 
run  his    experience.     He  has 
sense  of  humour  that  promises 
better  things  if  only  he  will  learn 
not  to  waste  it  on  an  artificial 
theme.    His  present  play,  written 
in  conjunction  with  Miss  Axifi 
HALL,  had  a  flattering  welcome 
which    should    not    deceive    its 
authors.     In  a  little  speecli  Mr. 
W7ORRALL  gallantly  acknowledged 
the  help  of  Miss  EOSINA  FILIPPI 
who  "  produced  "  him.    I  hesitate 
to  criticise  the  work  of  so  charm- 
ing and  accomplished  an  artist; 
but   it  was  lucky  that  the  play 
1  up  attempted    no    resemblance    to 
actual  life,  for  any  illusion  must 
have  been  shattered  by  the  jumpincss  of 
one  or  two  of  the  performers.    After  the: 
first   dozen   words   of   a    conversation 
somebody  must  needs  spring  up,  prance 
round  and  lean  over  the  back  of  some 


satisfied  that  she  desires  still  more  ac- 
commodation in  the  matter  of  freedom, 
is  prepared,  for  her  benefit  (not  for  his 
own,  as  is  apparent  from  the  type  that 
he  proposes  to  elope  with)  to  clear  the 
way  for  his  wife  to  divorce  him. 

Against   such   heroism    she    cannot 
remain  proof,  and  falls,  experimentally 

_  J *i_l_   _  _ .  i.     i  i>  -»,  .    ." 


and  without  loss  of  modesty,  into  his 
arms. 


other  seat  for 
then  off  a<?ain. 


a  sentence  or  two  and 
One  never  sees  any  such 


for  us? 
On  the 


behaviour  except  on  the  stage.  Is  it 
done  to  brighten  things  up 
It  hasn't  that  effect  upon  me. 
contrary,  I  too  grow  restive  and  Ciin 
scarce  restrain  myself  from  getting  out 
of  my  seat  and  climbing  all  over  the 
auditorium. 


I  think  Miss  FILIPPI  can  never  have 
!  felt  like  that ;  but  she  has  imagination 
I  find  I  have  not  yet  mentioned  a  |  and  will  understand,  now  that  I  have 
veteran  stage-duke  (uncle  of  the  bride-  i  told  her  what  I  suffer.     And  perhaps, 
groom)   who    held    the    sanest   views  another  time,  she  will  tell  them  to  keep 
about  this  caricature  of  matrimony  and  still.  0.  S. 


MARCH  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


211 


•  •  '  '  v,*, '    '  ' 


i 


(Agonising  position  of  master,  tvho  is  trying  to  make  a  good  impression  on  his  strait-laced  aunt  from  whom  lie  has  expectations.) 
Master  (worried).  " MARY,  HAVE  Ton  SEEN  A  LETTER  ANYWHERE  ABODT  MARKED  'PRIVATE'?" 
Mary.  "Yon  MEAN  THE  ONE  FROM  THE  MAN  WHAT  CAN'T  GET  'is  MONEY  OUT  OP  YOU,  SIR?    I  PUT  IT  BE'IND  THE  MIRROR,  SIR." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
SUBURBAN  householders  have  so  many  little  worries  that 
they  might  well  be  spared  the  final  inconvenience  of  being 
haunted  by  the  spirit  of  the  wicked  aristocrat  on  whose 
estate  their  detached  houses  have  been  built.  Yet  it  is  to 
this  that  Mr.  E.  W.  HORNUNG  dooms  them  in  Witching  Hill 
(HoDDER  AND  STOUGHTON).  Though  a  peer  of  the  realm, 
Lord  Mnlcaster  had  made  a  perfect  baronet  of  himself,  so 
hold  and  bad  had  he  been  in  the  days  of  the  Eegency.  He 
died,  but  the  evil  that  he  did  lived  after  him  in  the  form  of 
a  sort  of  Influence  which  so  wrought  upon  the  tenants  of 
the  villas  in  Witching  Hill  Road  and  Mulcaster  Park  that 
their  characters  became  completely  warped.  Religious 
tenants  took  to  gambling,  engaged  tenants  toyed  with  the 
idea  of  murdering  their  fiancees.  Even  the  Vicar's  sister 
abandoned  parish-magazine  fiction  and  composed  a  novel 
so  lurid  that  the  Vicar,  after  one  reading,  put  the  MS.  in 
the  h'ro.  It  is  an  ingenious  idea  which,  like  most  ideas, 
could  have  been  developed  in  more  than  one  way.  To  me 
it  seems  an  admirable  basis  for  a  frolic  of  the  Gilbertian  or 
Ansteyan  type.  Mr.  HORNUNG  has  preferred  to  try  to 
thrill  us,  and  I  think  he  has  chosen  the  more  difficult  plan. 
With  such  a  scheme  it  would  have  been  easier  to  amuse. 
Nevertheless,  if  one  or  two  of  the  stories  seem  a  little  mild 
and  drawn-out,  the  last  but  one,  "The  Locked  Room,"  is 
excellent.  Possibly  because  the  adventure  happens  to  the 
teller  of  the  story,  and  not  to  his  rather  wooden  friend,  Uvo 
Uelavoye  (whom,  till  then,  he  has  allowed  to  monopolise 
the  centre  of  the  stage),  this  particular  tale  seems  more  vivid 
than  the  rest. 


I  have  known  so  long  and  so  well  the  charm  of  Miss 
ALICE  BROWN'S  art  that  it  is  no  surprise  to  me  that  she 
should  have  written  one  of  the  best  and  freshest  child- 
stories  that  I  have  ever  read.  Tlie  Secret  of  the  Clan 
(CONSTABLE),  which  will  remind  you  a  little  of  The  Golden 
Age  of  Mr.  KENNETH  GRAHAME,  tells  the  tale  of  four  girls, 
most  cunningly  differentiated,  who  are  allowed  by  their 
adorable  lady-guardian  to  run  wild,  because  if  she  made 
rules  they  might  be  broken,  and  she  loved  her  children 
much  too  well  to  let  them  risk  the  taint  of  disobedience. 
The  girls'  idea  of  forming  themselves  into  an  imaginary 
tribe  of  Indians,  sworn  to  secrecy,  does  not  pretend  to  be 
novel ;  the  novelty  comes  when  their  vows  bring  them  into 
unavoidable  collision  with  their  gentle  guardian.  A  night 
escapade,  begun  by  one  of  them-  with  the  purpose  of  con- 
quering her  fear  of  the  dark,  gets  them  into  trouble  and 
requires  explanation.  Their  dear  hearts  are  'torn  asunder 
between  the  claims  of  their  oath  of  secrecy  and  a  passion- 
ate desire  not  to  hurt  their  guardian's  feelings.  The  oath 
prevails  and  their  lips  are  sealed,  until,  after  much  tribula- 
tion, a  way  is  found  out  compatible  with  the  nicest  sense  of 
honour.  A  really  fascinating  book,  full  of  humour  and 
gentleness  and  the  gayest  imagination.  And  you  may 
have  left  your  childhood  far  behind,  but  that  will  make  no 
difference  here.  New  England  has  no  more  delightful 
writer  than  Miss  ALICE  BROWN,  and  it  is  a  marvel  to  ire 
that  Old  England  knows  so  little  of  her  rare  gifts. 

Mr.  WEEDON  GROSSMITH  carries  the  happy  reader  From 
Stiid-io  to  Stage  (JOHN  LANE)  at  lilting  speed,  the  journey 
enlivened  by  endless  stories  perhaps  mostly  true.  Starting 
in  life  lie  fancied  himself  as  an  artist.  Here  and  there  in 


212 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  12,  1913. 


the  volume  may  be  found  veiled  hints  of  conviction  that  Wrong  people  and  thereby  damn  it  for  ever  in  the  eyes  of 
had  he  stuck  to  his  early  love  he  would  have  done  even  ,  the  Eight.  But  for  some  accidents  of  love,  this  is  what 
better  than  on  the  stage,  where  he  has  managed  pretty  well,  j  would  have  happened  to  Miss  Valentine ;  not  all  her  energy 
As  is  commonly  the  case  in  biographies  and  autobiographies  and  enthusiasm  could  have  saved  the  Pageant,  if  certain 
the  most  interesting  passages  are  found  in  the  opening  things  had  not  happened.  What  these  were,  and  the  charm 
chapters.  Charm  is  increased  by  the  cynical  frankness  and  humour  and  even  pathos  of  their  telling,  you  must 
wit !i  which  the  author  exposes  his  alleged  weaknesses  and  [discover  unaided  by  me.  If  a  fraction  only  of  the  late 
jots  down  his  indiscretions.  I  fancy  WEEDON  was  not  j  adherents  of  Mr.  Louis  PAKKER  and  Mr.  FKANK  LASCEI.I.KS 
such  a  sad  young  dog  as  he  paints  himself.  Did  he  really, ,  purchase  this  book  and  enjoy  it  (as  they  must),  its  success 
as  is  narrated  in  the  chapter  suggestively  entitled  "  Fast  is  certain. 
Life  in  London,"  help  "  Tottie  "  FAY  into  a  cab  at  the  solemn 
hour  of  midnight  and  recklessly  pay  her  fare  to  Highgate? 
1  trow  not.  The  difliculty  graphically  portrayed  is  sus- 
piciously suggestive  of  more  remunerative  embarrassment 
that  came  to  him  later  in  life  in  consequence  of  a  super- 
fluity of  (stage)  babies.  All  .the  same,  it  is  a  funny  story, 
admirably  told.  Another  confidence  reveals  his  youthful 
engagement  to  a  lady  whom  he  describes  as  "  considerably 


I  opened  The  Only  Prison  (JOHN  LONG)  with  some  vague 
expectation  that  Miss  ELLEN  ADA  SMITH  might  be  found 
to  have  provided  a  fresh  solution  for  the  problem  of  the 
Suffragettes.  Of  course  I  was  disappointed.  Her  novel  is 
really  a  variation  upon  an  old  theme — and  one  in  which  I 
have  always  resolutely  declined  to  believe — the  man  who 
takes  credit  and  reward,  for  the  literary  work  of  another. 


older  than  myself,  even   less  attractive,  who  had  a  very  i  It  is  only  fair  to  add  at  once  that  Miss  SMITH  has  provided 
substantial  income."      At —  — i  complications     that     add 

greatly  to  the  interest  of 
the  main  situation,  if  not 
to  its  inherent  probability. 
Thus,  before  Henry  Agar 
came  to  prosper  feloni- 
ously on  the  renown  and 
royalties  that  were  actually 
earned  by  Ma  ry  Dorna field, 
he  had  saved  her  life  in  a 
railway  accident  at  the 
peril  of  his  own,  and  could 
in  this  way  persuade  him- 
self that  he  had  a  kind  of 
moral  claim  upon  the  re- 
sults of  her  preservation. 
That  is  one  excellent  new 
point.  Another  is  that  he 
was  at  the  time  sacrificing 
personal  comfort  in  order 
to  keep  alive  a  very  un- 
interesting wife  at  Davos. 
So  altogether  there  was 
something  to  be  said  for 
Agar.  What  was  said, 
when  the  inevitable  expo- 
sure camo;  what  Mary  did, 

and  how  it  all  ended,  you  shall  find  for  yourself.  The  book  is 
well  enough  written  to  give  interest  to  the  process,  though 
I  believe  that  the  author  will  do  better  work  yet.  Upon 
one  small  point  however  I  most  vehemently  join  issue  with 
her.  This  is  the  manner  in  which  she  bases  Agar's  success 


this  time  his  balance  at 
the  bank  stood  at  £6  10s., 
while  his  liabilities 
amounted  to  over  £700. 
Something  must  be  done. 
So  he  seriously  contem- 
plated marriage,  to  which 
end  the  lady  was  obviously 
disposed.  At  the  last  mo- 
ment courage  forsook  him 
and  he  bolted.  His  experi- 
ences as  actor  and  mana- 
ger, with  vivid  peeps  be- 
hind the  scenes  at  Drury 
Lane  and  elsewhere,  sup- 
ply racy  material  for  the 
story  of  a  strenuous  life, 
frankly  told,  liberally 
spiced  with  the  precious 
salt  of  humour.  As  colla- 
borator with  his  brother 
GEORGE,  WEKDON  Gnosr 
SMITH  has  countless 
friends  and  admirers 
among  readers  of  Punch 
who  do  not  forget  "The 
Diary  of  a  Nobody."  WEEDON  is  Somebody. 


"WHICH  DOQ  DO  YOU  TVISH  ME  TO  HIT,  MADAM?" 

'.'OH,.  SIR,  YOU  ABE  KISD  INDEKD  I  NOT  THE  DEAR  LITTLE  ONE  WITH 
GREY-BLUE  EYES  '  AND  11.  P.  ON  HIS  COLLAR — THAT 'S  MY  BlNKIE.  I'M 
SFBE'HE  WAS  NOT  THE  AGGRESSOR." 


Nevertheless 


his  actual  Diary  is  scarcely  less  delightful  than  the  other. 

I  have  been  awaiting  it  this  great  while — a  really  good 
story  that  should  make  use  of  the  Pageant,  as  lately  to  be 
observed  in  the  rural  districts  of  England.  Happily,  now 
that  it  has  come,  it  proves  quite  worth  the  waiting ;  its 
name  is  New  Wine  and  Old  Lotties  (FISHER  UNWIN),  and  it 
is  written  by  Miss  CONSTANCE  SMEDLEY.  If  this  lady  does 
not  know  her  theme  from  intimate  observation,  I  am  no 
judge;  certainly  the  humour  and  trials  and  rewards  of  the 
pageant-period  could  hardly  have  been  better  realized. 
You  see  the  plot  in  the  title.  Scrooge,  that  somnolent 
little  Cotswold  town,  was  the  old  bottle,  into  which  the 
arrival  of  energetic  but  charming  Miss  Valentine,  straight 
from  a  Florentine  villa,  poured  new  wine  with  the  most 
devastating  results.  Miss  Valentine,  looking  about  her  on 
a  fair  prospect  marred  by  apathy  and  local  feuds,  was 
inspired  with  the  idea  of  a  Pageant  that  should  unite  and 
quicken  all  the  sluggish  life  of  Scrooge.  She  did  not  know 
(as  Miss  SMEDLEY  and  I  know  too  well),  first,  that  new- 
comers have  no  business  with  inspirations  ;  secondly,  that 
nothing  is  more  fatal  than  to  impart  such  a  scheme' to  the 


at  the  Bar  upon  the  reputation  of  his  supposed  skill  as  a 
novelist.     I  should  like  counsel's  opinion  upon  that  1 


The  "Smart"  Heart. 

Wliat  's  this,  good  Doctor,  that  you  say  I  've  got  ? — 
An  "  intermittent  pulse  "  ?     Lor  !  that  sounds  had; 

But  what  exactly  is  it  ?     Kind  of  dot- 
And-carry-one  affair?     I  say,  that 's  sad  ! 

You  mean  it  merely  drops  a  beat  or  so, 

A  sort  of  syncopated  pit-a-pat  ? 
But,  my  dear  fellow,  surely  you  must  know 

That 's  good  old  rag-time!     Oh,  I  don't  mind  lltatl 


Misprints  that  please  Sir  Edward  Burning-Lawrence. 
'•'The  Bard  of  Anon  asks  'What's  in  a  name?'  " 

Natal  Mercury. 


MAIICII  19.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


213 


CHARIVARIA. 

ONE  hundred  painters  engaged  on  the 
battleship  Queen  Mary  have  come  out 
on  strike.  Every  effort  will  be  made  to 
prevent  a  sympathetic  strike  on  the 
part  of  the  Royal  Academicians. 
*,* 

A  man  in  Colchester  has  killed  five 
hundred  nils  in  five  weeks.  We  have 
often  wondered  how  Colchester  amused 
itself  when  not  engaged  in  tho  serious 
business  of  eating  oysters. 

^£      '4' 

Except  that  he  foil  and  sprained  his 
ankle  during  the  ceremony,  was  attacked 
by  ptomaine  poisoning  at  the  subsequent 
dinner,  and  had  to  sail  for  America 
alone,  owing  to  his  bride  missing  the 
boat,  tho  wedding  of  Mr.  JULIUS  WOKBX, 
of  Schiedam,  may  be  said  to  have  gone 
oil  without  a  hitch. 
*.* 

Tho  case  of  tho  elephant  in  WOMB- 
\vi:i,i,'9  menagerie,  which  recently  ate 
WO  worth  of  notes,  coming  so  soon 
after  that  of  the  bank-note-eating  dog 
mentioned  in  these  columns,  makes  it 
seem  likely  that,  in  a  few  years,  do- 
mestic pets  will  be  beyond  the  means 
of  most  of  us.  *  £ 
* 

The  Press  has  once  more  begun  to 
ask  how  cricket  can  be  brightened.  A 
little  sunshine  next  summer  would  help. 

Greenwich  Observatory  has  looked 
into  the  matter,  and  reports  that  there 
are  fifty-two  million  stars.  The  author 
of  "  The  Night  Hath  a  Thousand  Ei/es  " 
will  doubtless  revise  his  lyric  and  bring 
it  up  to  date.  ^  % 

A  Spartan  rtgime  for  the  legal  infant 
is  advocated  by  Mr.  Justice  LUSH,  who 
has  laid  it  down  in  court  that  a  stuffed 

iguana  is  not  a  "  necessity." 
&  $ 

The  prudent  habit  of  leaving  the 
greater  part  of  one's  jewellery  at  the 
banker's  seems  to  bo  spreading  in 
America.  A  millionaire's  wife  has  been 
seen  at  the  opera  at  Los  Angeles  wear- 
ing gems  valued  at  less  than  £80,000. 

\Yo  have  no  confirmation,  up  to  the 
moment  of  going  to  press,  of  tho  rumour 
that  (he  members  of  the  Dominion 
House  of  Commons  who  sang  loudly 
during  a  great  part  of  a  recent  sitting 
are  lo  appear  on  the  London  music-hall 

stage  as  the  Canadian  Gag-Time  Octette. 
*  * 

A-;  tragic  a  case  of  the  Devil  and  the 
Deep  Sea  as  has  ever  come  to  our 
notice  is  revealed  by  the  statement  in  a 
daily  paper  that  only  the  institution  of 
the  side-whisker  can  cv.ro  the  cloth-cap 
habit  at  Cambridge. 


Genial  Squire.  "MANY  HAPPY  BETUBNS,  WILLIAM.    I  WAS  JCST  GOING  TO  CALL  on  YOU 

WITH   A  LITTLE   BIT  OF  TOBACCO." 

William  (aged  80).  "THANK  YE  KINDLY,  Sro,  BUT  I  BE  DOSE  wi*  SMOKIS'." 

Genial  Squire.  "Wnr,  HOW'S  THAT?" 

William.  "WELL,  I'vs  'BAUD  THAT  BETWEEN  EIGHTY  AN'  KISETY 's  A  TICKLISH  PAOT 

O'   A  SIAN'S  LITE,   SO  I   BB  TAKIM*   NO  CHANCES." 


Quite  recently  we  mentioned  the 
aviator  who,  when  a  thousand  feet 
above  London,  recognised  it  by  the 
unpleasant  smell.  We  now  read  that 
a  fox-terrier  smelt  its  way  back  to  tho 
Metropolis  from  Birmingham. 
* .  * 

Two  motor -omnibuses  collided  the 
other  evening,  in  Oxford  Street.    If  this 
internecine  strife  is  to  become  prevalent, 
the  Traffic  Problem  may  solve  itself. 
*.* 

Has  newspaper  opinion  no  weight  ? 
While  our  journals,  commenting  on  a 
recent  case  of  alleged  shop-lifting,  were 
still  ringing  with  condemnation  of  the 
practice  of  petty  pilfering,  a  man  at 
Stratford  was  sent  to  prison  for  stealing 
three  iron  boilers. 


The  Great  Impersonators. 

"Of   15,000   women   with   votes    for   tho 

London  County   Council,  only  40,000  voted 

last  Thursday,  said  the  Kev.  Silvester  llornc, 

M.P.,  at  Whitefield's  Tabernacle  on  Sunday." 

Eastern  Daily  1'ress. 

Let  this  bo  a  warning  to  us. 


"The  light-hearted  vervo  and  abandon  with 
which  she  danecd  both  this  and  tho  Polka 
Comiquo  which  preceded  it  carried  her 
audience  off  their  feet." 

Daily  Cok.nisl  (B.C.) 

They  simply  had  to  join  in. 

"  He  is  described  as  a  man  possessing  a  thick 
dark  moustache  of  about  Gft.  Tin.  in  weight. 
It  is  thought  that  he  will  probably  visit  Cal- 
cutta and  the  police  havo  been  directed  to  bo 
on  tho  look-out." — Empire. 

They  cannot  miss  him. 


VOL.  c:cr.:-,'. 


214 


PUNCH,   OR  THE 


[MARCH  19,  1913. 


"THE    LONDON    LOOK." 

[To  a  lady  just  returned  from  six  years  in  Canada  who  writes  to 
The  Chronicle  to  say  that  she  notices  "a  difference  that  has  take 
place  in  Londoner*  "  during  her  absence.     »  Coming  from  a  land  full 
of  hopo  and  promise  for  the  future,"  she  has  been  forcibly  struck  b> 
•  the^ad  and  hopeless  expression  worn  by  the  average  Londoner.   J 
FiiOM  regions  of  the  Golden  West, 

The  promised  land  of  boundless  prainc, 
Where  if  you  do  but  scratch  the  soil 
At  once  it  teems  with  corn  and  oil, 
And  Labour  goes  to  work  (or  rest) 
Light-footed  as  a  fairy  ;— 

Land  of  the  well-known  Maple-leaf, 

Where  legs  are  lithe  and  muscles  limber, 
Where  no  one  yet  was  heard  to  sigh, 
But  all  men  wear  a  glad,  glad  eye 
That  conies  of  canning  fruits  and  beef 
And  logging  virgin  timber;— 

Where  rolls  of  greenbacks,  rolls  and  rolls, 
Drop  from  the  trees  (just  like  Utopia) ; 
Where  Fortune  smiles  without  a  break, 
And  all  the  world  is  on  the  make 
And  carries  in  its  button-holes 
A  blooming  cornucopia; — 

From  that  Elysium  homeward  borne, 
You  find  yourself  completely  staggered, 
Treading  once  more  our  London  ways, 
To  note  the  contrast  she  betrays, 
The  dull  despair' of  lips  forlorn, 
Of  eyes  how  strangely  haggard ! 

You  say  you  can't  account  for  this. 
Six  summers  back  you  left  us  cheery ; 
Contentment  sat  on  every  brow 
Six  little  summers  back,  and  now 
You  see  the  same  Metropolis 
Hopelessly  dull  and  dreary. 

Blithe  as  a  bird  that  scales  the  sky, 
That  day  when  you  and-London  parted, 
We  went  about  as  though  on  air, 
Carolling  lightly  here  and  there. 
What  means  this  sad  decline?,    Oh  why,     , 
Why  are  we  so  downhearted  ? 

Madam,  -we  thank  your  fresher  eyes 

Through  which  we  pierce  the  humorous  vapour 
Thai;  screens  us  from  ourselves,  and  find 
How  changed  we  are ;  but  was  it  kind 
To  send  the  news  of  your  surprise 
Up  to  a  Liberal  paper? 

Anyhow,  here 's  a  Tory's  view 
For  light  upon  the  situation :  — 
Madam,  six  painful  years  ago 
Our  sanguine  hearts  had  yet  to  know 
What  LLOYD  could  scheme  and  GEORGE  could  do 
To  devastate  the  nation  I  O.  S. 


The  Old  Firm. 

"The  wreath  placed  on  behalf  of  his  Majesty  by  his  son,  Erinc 
Eitel  Priedrich,  at  the  foot  of  the  statue  to  Frederick  William  III 
at  Brcslau  bore  the  inscription :  '  God's  and  our  firm  will  cnsui 
victory  to  our  just  cause." — Horning  Post. 
We  are  glad  to  see  that  the  partnership  goes  on. 


"  Built  on  the  lines  of  an  old  farmhouse  kitchen,  French  girls  i 
picturesque  costumes  flit  about  with  cups  of  coffee  and  liqueurs." 

kvcnjman. 
And  they  talk  about  French  figures ! 


THE   CHRISTENING   OF   CANBERRA. 

GREAT  satisfaction  is  expressed  amongst  patriotic  Aus- 
ralians  that  the  Federal  Government  should  bave  reso-f 
-itely  refused  to  emphasize  the  historical  or  personal; 
ssociations  of  their  country  with  the  Mother-country,  and! 
ave  decided  instead  to  call  their  capital,  Canberi-a-^a  namei 
vhich  is  at  once  Australian,  indigenous  and  aboriginal] 
n  view  of  the  epoch-making  nature  of  the  event",  We  have 
nvited  the  opinions  of  a  number  of  leading  patriots,1, 
cholars  and  litterateurs  on  the  choice. 

Mr.  P.  F.  WARNER  writes :  "  While  disclaiming  any  right! 
o  dictate  to  the  Commonwealth  Government  in  this 
natter,  I  cannot  help  regretting  that  they  have  not  seen 
heir  way  to  commemorate  the  greatest  of  all  Australian 
>roducts — cricket.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  never  dis-' 
uised  my  belief  that  the  best  name  for  the  new  capital! 
would  be  Trumpersville,  though  I  admit  that  Spolforths-j 
own  has  much  to'recommend  it." 

Mr.  EDMUND  GOSSE  writes :  "  As  the  most  intimate! 
iving  friend 'of  ROBERT  BROWNING,  FITZGERALD,  GEORGE 
VlERKDiTH  and  TENNYSON,  may  I  be  permitted  to  express  myj 
regret  that  the  claims  of  none  of  these  great  men  have! 
)ecn  regarded  in  the  nomenclature  of  the  new  Australian! 
apital?" 

Mr.  P.  A.  VAILE,  the  great  lawn  tennis  and  golf  expcrtj 
md  author  of  Wdke  up,  England,  though  himself  a  Newl 
Zealander,  takes  a  keen  interest  in  Australian  politics.  He( 
writes :  "The  Australians  have  missed  a  great  opportunity. 
Tiiey  should  have  called -their  Capital  Boomerangs,  or, 
Deriiaps,  Bourneringue,  in  memory  of  -the  famous  aboriginal 
jiissile  which,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  is  the  outstanding 
contribution  of  Australia  to  the  inventions  of  the  world. 
[  may  add  that  I  have  for  many  years  been  engaged  in 
researches  into  the  flight  of  the  boomerang,  in  which  the 
antagonism  of  topspin  and  undercut  is  reduced  to  a  perfect 
laruiony,  and  hope  soon  to  publish  them  in  a  definitive 
monograph.1' 

Sir  GEORGE  BIRDWOOD  writes :"  Inasmuch  as  philologists 
trace  the  derivation  of  the  word  to  an  aboriginal  perversion 
of  '  Cranberry,'  a  fruit-  which  grows  in  great  luxuriance  on 
the  spot,  I  can  only  say  that  I  prefer  it  to  Wallaby,  Wattle- 
ton  or'Federalia."  ! 

Mr.  .THOMAS  BEECHAM  expresses  regret,  on  the  grounds 
of  euphony,  that  the  more  melodious  name  of  Mypla  was 
not  chosen.  "  The  termination  -ola,"  he  observes,  "is  con- 
secrated to  music— e.g.,  viola,  pianola — though  an  excep 
tion  must  be  made  in  the  case  of  Gorgonzola —  and 
naturally  appeals  with  peculiar  force  to  all  persons  of  an 
artistic  temperament. 

Lord  COURTNEY  OF  PENWITH  writes :  "  I  must  confess  to 
a  bitter  disappointment  that  the  name  which  I  suggested 
viz.  Proportionalia,  with  a  view  to  celebrating  the  triumph 
of  proportional  representation,  did  not  even  achieve  thf 
distinction  of  serious  consideration.  I  cannot  profess  en 
thusiasm  for  Canberra,  but  it  is  a  great  relief  to  me  per 
sonally  that  Venus  was  not  selected." 

Sir  EDWIN  DURNING-LAWRENCE  writes:  "The  onl) 
redeeming  feature  of  the  situation  is  the  negative  one  tha 
the  name  Shakspearo  was  rejected.  For  the  Common 
wealth  to  link  its  lot  with  the  arch-impo'stor  would  hav 
been  a  cosmic  catastrophe." 


The  latest  projected  alliance  between  the  Peerage  and  th 
Music  Hall  Stage  is  indicated  by  tlie  following  significan 
"exchange"  advertisement  in  The  Motor  Cycle: — • 

"  Excellent  Ccronet  and  Banjo,  each  m  case,  for  good  side-car." 
The  honeymoon  will  be  spent  motoring. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MARCH  19,  1913. 


A    MINISTEEIAL    BANK-HOLIDAY    DREAM. 

O  TO    BE    AT    HAMPSTEAD    NOW    THAT    EASTER'S    HERE! 
[The  House,  for  the  first  time  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant,  is  to  sit  on  Easter  Monday.] 


MAitcn  19,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


217 


Old  Gentleman,  "EVEBYTHISG  SEEMS  VEBY  I-OBWABD,  THOMAS." 
TJtomas.  "YES,  Sin;    I  SUPPOSE  TIIAT  BE  ON  ACCOUNT  OF  EASTEH  FALLC*'  so  EABLY." 
(Old  Gentleman  retires  indoors  to  think  it  out.) 


CEICKET   BEFORM. 

IT  is  becoming  more  and  more  evi- 
dent that  something  must  be  done  to 
"brighten  cricket."  We  have  listened 
patiently  to  the  many  helpful  proposals 
that  have  appeared  in  the  Press  in  the 
last  few  weeks  and  given  them  our 
most  thoughtful  consideration,  and  we 
feel  that  now  our  turn  has  come. 

It  has  been  suggested  in  some  quar- 
ters that  spectators  should  be  admitted 
free  for  the  last  hour's  play  of  the  day. 
That  seems  to  us  a  very  happy  idea, 
and  one  which  might  be  carried  a  good 
deal  further.  It  is  generally  conceded 
that  the  game  cannot  exist  without 
spectators.  (It  is  not  as  if  the  players 
wore  doing  it  purely  for  the  fun  of  the 
thing.)  Well,  why  not  admit  all  spec- 
tators free?  A  much  larger  crowd 
could  then  be  confidently  counted  upon. 
We  shall  be  told,  of  course,  that  the 
club's  finances  would  suffer  from  such 
Open-handed  treatment.  But  vra  have 
not  overlooked  that  difficulty.  It  could 
be  met  by  making  a  small  charge — of 
perhaps  a  shilling  a  head — "upon  re- 
tiring," that  is  to  say,  as  they  go  out. 


The  necessity  for  a  band  has  been 
very  generally  insisted  upon,  and  quite 
rightly.  But  it  is  ridiculous  to  suppose 
that  every  member  of  the  crowd  is 
interested  in  music.  And  if  nothing 
more  than  this  is  to  be  done  it  is  clear 
that  the  great  majority  will  be  reduced 
to  looking  on  at  the  cricket  after  all. 
The  band  must  be  supplemented  by 
other  attractions.  A  few  simple  side- 
shows would  do  much — a  picture  palace 
perhaps  at  each  corner  of  the  ground, 
some  pierrots,  an  Aunt  Sally  or  two,  and, 
let  us  say,  a  joy-wheel  would  probably 
bo  found  quite  sufficient,  for  ours  is 
ever  a  good-humoured  crowd.  The  pro- 
gramme would,  of  course,  have  to  bo 
changed,  say,  twice  a  week,  and  to  meet 
this  need  every  touring  eleven  might 
carry  with  it  its  own  little  troupe  of 
itinerant  artists.  Lancashire  would 
bring  its  clog-dancers,  Somerset  its  team 
of  wrestlers,  and  local  talent  would  be 
encouraged  in  every  possible  way.  On 
the  more  special  occasions  (that  is  to 
say,  when  the  match  itself  is  more  than 
usually  dull),  pageants  illustrating  the 
development  of  the  game  from  pre-his- 
toric  times  might  parade  the  ground. 


Again,  all  are  agreed  that  there  is  too 
much  cricket.  1'or  this  a  simple  remedy 
could  be  found.  Why  not  have  a 
season  with  no  cricket  at  all?  It 
might  foster  appetite. 

As  to  alterations  in  the  actual  rules 
of  the  game,  we  feel  a  little  diffident  in 
putting  forth  our  views,  for  one  of  the 
very  highest  authorities  lias  just  told 
us  that  what  cricket  really  wants  is 
"  ten  years  of  sober  government  and 
freedom  from  scares  and  criticisms."  It 
is  not  that  we  are  without  happy  ideas 
on  this  subject.  We  still  believe  that 
our  notion  of  making  the  wicket  so 
wide  that  the  ball  on  occasion  would 
pass  between  the  stumps  is  really  a 
capital  one,  and  would  add  quite  a 
sporting  new  element  to  the  relations 
between  batsman  and  bowler.  And 
our  own  special  reform — the  corrugated 
pitch — would  without  doubt  introduce 
many  bright  and  amusing  episodes. 
But  even  if  we  may  not  tamper  with 
the  rules  something  can  surely  be  done 
to  improve  cricket  as  a  spectacle. 
Whatever  other  attractions  we  are  able 
to  provide  there  must  always  be  a  few 
members  of  the  crowd,  old  sportsmen 


218 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  19,  1913. 


of  the  bull-dog  breed,  who  tiro  there  to 
sou  the  game.  Can  wo  do  nothing  to 
relieve  the  monotony  for  them  ?  At 
least  the  players  might  adopt  the  very 
obvious  expedient  of  fancy  dress,  and 
it  would  be  a  pity  not  to  make  use  of 
the  umpires  in  the  same  way.  At 
present  they  add  little  or  nothing  to 
the  spectacular  effect. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  final  reflec- 
tion that  there  may  be  no  need,  after 
all,  to  take  any  steps  to  brighten  cricket. 
The  problem  may  solve  itself.  When 
we  consider  all  that  the  W.S.P.U.  has 
done  in  the  last  few  months  to 
brighten  golf,  surely  there  is  no 
need  to  despair. 


was  forty-six.  But  it  was  not  merely 
territorial  enthusiasm  which  inspired 
him,  and  as  the  band  floundered  pre- 
cariously out  into  the  open  ho  took  a 
bundle  of  papers  from  his  pocket  and 


reviewed  his  position. 


To    Mr.    Jim 
Switzerland,    he 


Blow,    of 
had    sent 


Lucerne, 
postal 


order  for  10s.  and  various  forecasts  of 
football  results.  If  all  these  forecasts 
proved  correct  he  would  win  £12  10s. 
Among  them  he  had  given  Porthampton 
to  win. 

From    Mr.  Ted    Bangs,  of   Geneva, 


THE    SPORTSMAN. 

ALFRED  BINKS  PBOSSEB  was 
enjoying  himself  immensely. 
He  was  seated  in  a  covered 
stand,  while  outside,  in  the 
drizzling  rain  so  characteristic 
of  an  English  spring,  the  Port- 
hampton "  Yellowhammers" 
and  the  Ringsley  "  Lobsters  " 
manoeuvred  a  heavy  football 
over  a  large  area  of  watery  mud 
dotted  here  and  there  with  pools 
of  muddy  water.  A  big  button 
of  brown  and  yellow — the  Port- 
hampton colours— was  in  his 
coat,  and  a  gilt  tie-pin  made  in 
the  shape  of  a  hammer  also 
neatly  indicated  on  which  side 
his  sympathies  lay. 

The  "  Yellowhammers  "  were 
leading  by  one  goal  to  nil,  and 
Alfred  experienced  a  satisfying 
sense  of  having  done  his  best  to 
bring  about  this  result.  He  had 
cheered  his  own  men  through 
fair  play  and  foul,  and  had  con- 
sistently booed  their  opponents. 
He  had  also  shouted  a  great 
many  pertinent  exhortations, 


such  as  "  Play  the  game,  Bef. !  "  - 
"  Pull  your  socks  up,  Eef.!  "  "  Go  and 
buy  a  pair  of  specs,  Eef. ! "  Indeed 
his  advice  to  the  Referee  must  have 
been  a  great  help  to  that  harassed 
official.  In  addition  to  all  this  he  had 
indulged  in  a  spirited  verbal  skirmish 
with  an  excited  Eingsleyite,  and  had 
wittily  advised  him  to  swallow  a 
sponge  if  he  couldn't  spleak  splain  for 
splutterin'. 

Altogether,  except  for  a  natural  and 
.'audable  hoarseness,  Alfred  felt  at  the 
top  of  his  form  when  the  whistle  went 
for  half-time. 

He  had  long  supported  the  "  Yellow- 
hammers  "  for  the  excellent  reason  that 
their  ground  was  situated  but  twenty- 
two  miles  by  rail  from  his  home,  while 
that  of  the  only  other  professional  club* 
within  reach  on  a  Saturday  afternoon 


Mrs.  Bigg  (Jiaving  the  worst  of  tlie  argument).  "  NAH  THEN, 
CHUCK  IT  ;  you  'VE  ALWAYS  GOT  MORE  TO  SAX  THAN  XEB  'AYE 
TO  EAT." 


Switzerland,  he  might  similarly  expect 
to  receive  £25  if  all  his  predictions  were 
successful;  and  among  them  he  had 
given  Porthampton  to  win. 

In  the  weekly  Football  Competition 
organised  by  Trifles,  which  offered  a 
prize  of  £100  for  a  correct  forecast  of 
the  results  of  twenty-four  selected 
matches,  he  had  given  Porthampton 
to  win. 

In  a  parallel  Competition  arranged 
by  Masses  Weekly  for  a  prize  of  £200, 
he  had  given  Porthampton  to  win. 

In  the  Competition  announced  by 
Piffling  Pars,  which  offered  a  prize  of 
£500  on  the  same  terms,  he  had  given 
Porthampton  to  win. 

Likewise  in  the  Whispers  Competi- 


tion for  £4  a  week  for  lif 


But  stay ! 


What  was  this?     Alfred  stamped  his 


foot  with  vexation.  Ho  remembered 
now  what  up  to  this  moment  he  hac 
utterly  forgotten.  Just  as  he  had  been 
on  the  point  of  crossing  out  Ringsley 
on  the  Whispers  coupon  a  few  days 
before,  some  obscure  instinct  hac 
prompted  him  to  stay  his  hand,  ana 
he  had  given  the  result  a  draw  I 

Four  pounds  a  week  for  life!  Ho 
dropped  the  tie-pin  and  the  button  into 
his  pocket  and  went  out  for  a  breather. 
When  he  sat  down  again  it  was  in 
another  part  of  the  staiid. 

Here  for  some  time  he  urged  on  the 
efforts  of  the  "  Lobsters  "  with 
the  utmost  zeal,  completely 
putting  to  shame  a  small  group 
of  Ringsleyites  near  him.  Then 
at  last  the  ball  flashed  into  the 
"Yellowhammers'"  net  and 
made  the  scores  level,  and  he 
gave  a  long  sigh  of  relief  as  he 
watched  the  goal-keeper  pick 
himself  up  and  scrape  the  mud 
out  of  his  mouth. 

Minute  after  minute  passed 
without  any  further  score,  and 
Alfred  now  sat  unwontedly 
quiet,  feeling  more  and  more 
certain  of  his  £4  a  week.  But 
five  minutes  from  time  the 
Yellowhammers  "  seemed  sud- 
denly to  develop  a  fresh  access 
of  energy.  They  began  to  press 
strongly ;  and  in  spite  of  himself, 
in  defiance  of  all  reason,  Alfred 
found  himself  becoming  wildly 
excited  on  their  behalf.  Fight 
against  it  as  he  would,  there 
surged  into  his  breast  a  mad, 
illogical,  but  sporting  hope  that 
Porthampton  might  win. 

A  minute  from  time  the 
Yellowhammers'  "  centre-for- 
ward found  the  ball  at  his  feet 
about  forty  yards  from  the 
Eingsley  goal.  Alfred  yelled 
piercingly,  "  Shoot,  you  silly 
fool !  Shoot !  "  The  centre  did 
not  shoot,  but  swung  the  ball  to  the 
outside  right.  Alfred  rose  to  his  feet 
and  waved  his  arms.  The  outside  man 
raced  along  the  touch-line  and  lofted  the 
ball  towards  the  goal-mouth.  Alfred 
stamped  on  the  boards  and  bawled 
incoherently.  The  inside  right  slid 
forward,  and  with  a  quick  jerk  of  his 
head  sent  the  ball  flying  into  a  top 
corner  of  the  net.  Alfred  brought  down 
both  his  fists  with  a  crash  upon  the 
bowler  hat  of  the  man  in  front  of 
him,  and  with  a  thrill  of  pure,  un- 
hesitating, rapturous  triumph  screamed 
"GOAL!" 

At  the  risk  of  losing  £208  a  year  for 
life,  Alfred  Binks  Prosser  had  shown 
himself  a  sportsman.  .  .  .  Nor,  since 
his  other  predictions  wero  all  wrong, 
did  he  ever  have  cause  to  regret  it. 


PUNCH,    Oil   THE   LONDON   CJIAIMVAUI. 


219 


"ONE  HF.\LT.Y  SEES  SOME  VEBY  nr.srF.CTABLE-LOOKtNO  rE3ri.E  AMONG  THKSF.  TIIKATRICAT.,  POLK. 
]!er.  Darby.  "On,  DEAR  MR,  VES!    I  UNDERSTAND  THAT  MANY  OF  TIIEM  HAVE  QUITE  KICE  HOMES." 


DEFEEEED  STOCK. 
IT  was  a  wonderful  Spring  after- 
noon. Perambulators  blossomed  on  the 
fieath,  boy  scouts  burgeoned  into  scout- 
masters, crocodiles  had  come  out  of  their 
liiirs.  On  every  side  of  me  young  male 
(bop-assistants  walked  and  whispered 
honeyed  nothings  into  tho  shell-like 
curs  of  young  female  dittos.  I  only  was 
sad.  This  was  because  of  a  little  ex- 
planation I  had  had  with  Araminta  just 
after  lunch.  1  was  rather  pleased  than 
otherwise  when  she  said  to  me,  "Of 
course  you  remembered  to  buy  that 
foolscap  this  morning  ?  "  because  it  gave 
me  a  chance  to  expound  to  her  the 
principle  on  which  I  regulate  the  petty 
iletails  of  everyday  life.  It  is  a  fixed 
iil.'ii  with  Araminta  that  I  am  slightly 
nnvless  and  unmethodical.  Nothing 
could  be  further  from  the  truth.  So  I 
said,  "  No,"  and  at  the  same  time  smiled 
nrdonically.  (An  article  on  sardonic 
smiles,  illustrated  by  photographs  of 
the  faces  of  Cabinet  Ministers  smiling 
them,  will  be  found  on  some  other  page 
of  some  other  paper.)  After  I  had  got 
this  over  and  my  mor.tli  had  resumed 
its  normal  footing,  Araminta,  looking 
slightly  relieved,  went  on.  "But  you 
said  you  simply  must  have  it  to-night," 


sho  murmured  reproachfully, "  and  some 
bootlaces  and  dog  biscuits — 

"  Araminta,"  I  broke  in,  "  civilization 
is  a  lethargic  monotony.  We  are  both 
lotus-eaters  ;  so  is  the  dog.  Constant 
supplies  of  little  luxuries  lie  round 
about  our  door " 

"  Not  unless  you  order  them  up  in 
the  morning." 

" lie,  I  should  rather  say,  behind 

the  counters  of  the  little  shops  at  the 
end  of  the  street.  Why  should  I  get 
theso  things  an  instant  before  they  are 
absolutely  needed  ?  If  it  is  at  all  pos- 
sible to  infuse  any  flavour  of  romance 
into  our  swathed  and  padded  existence, 
it  can  only  be  done  by  waiting  until 
the  last  possible  chance,  and  then  sally- 
ing fortli  like  a  relief  expedition  and 
buying  boot-powder,  tooth-laces,  seal- 
ing-biscuits  and  dog-wax  at  the  psycho- 
logical moment  when  failure  to  procure 
them  would  bring  the  \-<o\t  to  the  door. 
In  all  good  stories  of  desert  islands  it 
is  just  when  the  dishevelled  mariner 
despairs  of  being  able  to  cook  the- yams 
or  iguanas  which  lie  has  been  lassoing 
all  morning  with  his  neck-tie  that  the 
bale  of  hermetically-sealed  pine-vestas 
is  washed  ashore  from  the  wreck.  So 
it  is  with  me.  It  is  quite  true  that  I 
have  been  longing  for  foolscap,  not  to 


speak  of  various  other  what-nots.  It 
is  quite  true  that  I  must  have  them 
this  evening — 

"Isn't  it  better?"  began  Araminta, 
seizing  a  moment  when  I  stopped  for 
breath — 

"  No,  it  is  not  better  to  have  them 
always  in  stock.  That  is  your  method, 
but  not  mine.  In  a  few  moments  I 
shall  issue  forth  and  pay  a  visit  to  the 
stationer ;  from  him  I  shall  go  on  to  the 
biscuit-monger  and  the  bootwright  and 
come  back  hung  all  over  with  little 
parcels  like  the  good  St.  Nicholas. 
Your  ideal,  it  seems,  is  the  Garden 
of  Alcinous,  where  the  greengroceries 
never  run  out.  Mine  is  the  date-palm 
of  the  oasis  which  greets  the  eye  of  the 
thirsty  Bedouin,  now  at  his  last  gasp. 
Such  is  romance." 

So  saying,  and  before  Araminta  had 
time  to  recover  from  her  bewilderment, 
I  clapped  my  plum-coloured  Carlsbad 
on  my  head  and  went  out. 

As  I  said  before,  all  nature  was 
smiling.  Shop-assistants  cooed  of  love. 
It  was  then  that  I  became  suddenly  sad. 
I  should  not  have  minded  about  nature ; 
it  was  the  shop-assistants  who  worried 
me.  I  realised  almost  at  once  that  it 
was  Thursday  afternoon  ;  and  Thursday 
is  our  early-closing  day. 


220 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAR^ 


[MARCH  19,  1913. 


THE   LANDSCAPE   GARDENER. 

EEALLY!  know  nothing  about  flowers. 
By  a  bit  of  luck,  James,  my  gardener, 
whom  I  pay  lialf-a-crown  a  week  for 
combing,  the  beds,  knows  nothing 
about  them  either;  so  my  ignorance 
remains  undiscovered.  But  in  other 
people's  gardens  I  bavo  to  make 
something  of  an  effort  to  keep  up 
appearances.  Without  flattering  my- 
self I  may  say  that  I  have  acquired  a 
certain  manner ;  I  give  the  impression 
of  the  garden  lover,  or  the  man  with 
shares  in  a  seed-company,  or — or  some- 
thing. 

For  instance,  at  Creek  Cottage,  Mrs. 
Atherley  will  say  to  me,  "  That  'a  an 
Amphiloberlus  Gemini,"  pointing  to 
something  which  I  hadn't  noticed  be- 
hind a  rake. 

:"  I  am  not  a  bit  surprised,"  I  say 
calmly. 

'"  And  a  Glodiophinium  Banksii  next 
to  it." 

; "  I  suspected  it,"  I  confess  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

:  Towards  flowers  whose  names  I 
know  I  adopt  a  different  tone. 

"  Aren't  you  surprised  to  see  daffodils 
out  so  early  ? "  says  Mrs.  Atherley 
with  pride; 

'"There  are  lots  out  in  London,"  I 
mention  casually.  "  In  the  shops." 

"  So  there  are  grapes,"  says  Miss 
Atherley. 

"  I  was  not  talking  about  grapes,"  I 
reply  stiffly. 

However  at  Creek  Cottage  just  now 
I  can  afford  to  be  natural ;  for  it  is  not 
gardening  which  comes  under  discussion 
tltese  days,  but  landscape-gardening, 
and  anyone  can  be  an  authority  on 
that.  The  Atberleys,  fired  by  my  tales 
of  Sandringham,  Chatsworth,  Arundel, 
and  other  places  where  I  am  constantly 
spending  the  week-end,  are  re-adjusting 
their  two-acre  field.  In  future  it  will 
riot  be  called  "  the  garden  "  but  "  the 
grounds." 

I  was  privileged  to  be  shown  over 
the  grounds  on  my  last  visit  to  Creek 
Cottage. 

"  Here,"  said  Mrs.  Atherley,  "  we  are 
having  a  plantation.  It  will  keep  the 
wind  off;  and  we  shall  often  sit  here 
in  the  early  days  of  summer.  That 's 
a  weeping  ash  in  the  middle.  There 's 
another  one  over  there.  They  '11  be 
lovely,  you  know." 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  I  asked,  pointing 
to  a  bit  of  black  stick  on  the  left; 
which,  even  more  than  the  other  trees, 
gave  the  impression  of  having  been  left 
there  by  the  gardener  while  he  went 
for  his  lunch. 

"  That 's  a  weeping  willow." 

"  This  is  rather  a  tearful  corner  of 
the  grounds,"  apologised  Miss  Atherley. 


"  We  '11  show  you  something  brighter 
directly.  Look  there — that 's  the  oak 
in  which  KING  CHAKLES  lay  hid.  At 
least,  it  will  bo  when  it's  grown  a 
bit." 

"Let's  go  on  to  the  shrubbery," 
said  Mrs.  Atherley.  "  We  are  having 
a  new  grass  path  from  here  to  the 
shrubbery.  It's  going  to  be  called 
Henry's  Walk." 

Miss  Atherley  has  a  small  brother 
called  Henry.  Also  there  were  eight 
Kings  of  England  called  Henry.  Many 
a  time  and  oft  one  of  those  nine  Henrys 
has  paced  up  and  down  this  grassy 
walk,  his  head  bent,  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  back;  -while  behind  his 
furrowed  brow,  who  shall  say  what 
world-schemes  were  hatching?  -Is  it 
the  thought  of  WOL.SEY  which  makes 
him  frown — or  is  he  wondering  where 
he  left  his  .catapult?  Ah!  who  can 
tell  us  ?  Let  us  leave  a  veil  of  mystery 
over  it  ...  for  the  sake  of  the  next 
visitor. 

"  The  shrubbery,"  said  Mrs.  Atherley 
proudly,  waving  her  hand  at  a  couple 
of  laurel  bushes  and  a — I  've  forgotten 
its  name  now,  but  it  is  one  of  the  few 
shrubs  I  really  know. 

"  And  if  you  're  a  gentleman/'  said 
Miss  Atherley,  "  and  want  to  get  asked 
here  again,  you'll  always  call  it  the 
shrubbery." 

"  Really,  I  don't  see  what  else  you 
could  call  it,"  I  said,  wishing  to  be 
asked  down  again. 

"  The  patch." 

"  True,"  I  said.   "  I  mean,  Nonsense." 

I  was  rather  late  for  breakfast  next 
morning;  a  pity  on  such  a  lovely  spring 
day. 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  I  began,  "but  I 
was  looking  at  the  shrubbery  from  my 
window  and  I  quite  forgot  the  time." 

"  Good,"  said  Miss  Atherley. 

"  I  must  thank  you  for  putting  me 
in  such  a  perfect  room  for  it,"  I  went 
on,  warming  to  my  subject.  "  One  can 
actually  see  the  shrubs — er — shrubbing. 
The  plantation  too  seems  a  little  thicker 
to  me  than  yesterday." 

"  I  expect  it  is." 

"In  fact,   the  tennis  lawn "    I 

looked  round  anxiously.  I  had  a  sudden 
fear  that  it  might  be  the  new  deer-park. 
"  It  still  is  the  tennis  lawn  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes.     Why,  what  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  going  to  say  the  tennis 
lawn  had  quite  a  lot  of  shadows  on  it. 
Oh,  there's  no  doubt  that  the  planta- 
tion is  really  asserting  itself." 

Eleven  o'clock  found  me  strolling  in 
the  grounds  with  Miss  Atherley. 

"  You  know,"  I  said,  as  we  paced 
Henry's  Walk  together,  "  the  one  thing 
the  plantation  wants  is  for  a  bird  to 
nest  in  it.  That  is  the  hall-mark  of  a 
plantation." 


"  It 's  Mother's  birthday  to-morrow. 
Wouldn't  it  be  a  lovoly  surprise  for 
her?" 

"  It  would,  indeed.  Unfortunately 
this  is  a  matter  in  which  you  require 
the  co-operation  of  a  feathered  friend." 

"  Couldn't  you  try  to  persuade  a 
bird  to  build  a  nest  in  the  weeping 
ash  ?  Just  for  this  once?  " 

"  You  'ro  asking  me  a  very  difficult 
thing,"  I  said  doubtfully.  "  Anything 
else  I  would  do  cheerfully  for  you; 
but  to  dictate  to  a  bird  on  such  a  very 

domestic  affair .     No,  I  'm  afraid  I 

must  refuse." 

"It  need  only  just  begin  to  build 
one,"  pleaded  Miss  Atherley,  "because 
Mother  's  going  up  to  town  by  your 
train  to-morrow.  As  soon  as  she 's  out 
of  the  house  the  bird  can  go  back  to 
anywhere  else  it  likes  better." 

"  I  will  put  that  to  any  bird  I  see 
to-day,"  I  said,  "  but  I  am  doubtful." 

"Oh,  well,"  sighed  Miss  Atherley; 
"  never  mind." 

•',-         •-',-         -'.-         *         *         # 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  "  cried  Mrs. 
Atherley  as  she  came  in  to  breakfast 
next  day.  "  There 's  a  bird  been  nesting 
in  the  plantation  !  " 

Miss  Atherley  looked  at  me  in  undis- 
guised admiration.  I  looked  quite  sur- 
prised— I  know  I  did. 

"  Well,  well !  "  I  said. 

"  You  must  come  out  afterwards  and 
see  the  nest  and  tell  me  what  bird  it 
is.  There  are  three  eggs  in  it.  I  am 
afraid  I  don't  know  much  about  those 
things." 

"  I  'm  glad,"  I  said  thankfully.  "  I 
mean,  I  shall  be  glad  to." 

We  went  out  eagerly  after  breakfast. 
On  about  the  only  tree  in  the  plantation 
with  a  fork  to  it  a  nest  balanced  pre- 
cariously. It  had  in  it  three  pale-blue 
eggs  splotched  with  light-brown.  It 
appeared  to  be  a  blackbird's  nest  with 
another  egg  or  two  to  come. 

"  It 's  been  very  quick  about  it,"  said 
Miss  Atherley. 

"  Of  our  feathered  bipeds,"  I  said, 
frowning  at  her,  "  the  blackbird  is 
notoriously  the  most  hasty." 

"  Isn't  it  lovely?"  said  Mrs.  Atherley. 

She  was  still  talking  about  it  as  she 
climbed  into  the  trap  which  was  to  take 
us  to  the  station. 

"  One  moment,"  I  said,  "  I  've  for- 
gotten something."  I  dashed  into  the 
house  and  out  by  a  side  door,  and  then 
sprinted  for  the  plantation.  I  took 
the  nest  from  the  weeping  and  over- 
weighted ash  and  put  it  carefully 
back  in  the  hedge  by  the  tennis- 
lawn.  Then  I  returned  more  leisurely 
to  the  house. 

If  you  ever  want  a  job  of  landscape- 
gardening  thoroughly  well  done,  you 
can  always  rely  iipon  me.  A:  A.  M. 


MAKCH  19,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


221 


SOCIETY    IN   THE   SUN. 

(With  acknowledgments  to  the  Monte  Carlo  representatives  of  our  photographic  contemporaries.} 


LORD  AND  LADY  BERTIE  MAINWARING  TAKIKQ  A  CONSTITU- 
TIONAL. LADY  BERTIE,  WE  NEED  NOT  REMIND  OUR  READKRS, 
WAS  RECENTLY  ONE  OP  THE  BEAUTIES  OP  THE  LYRIC  STAGE. 


THE  GRAND  DUKE  OP  SPLO,BHSTEIN-PCNTEBSBORG  LEAVING 
THE  CASINO  WITH  TOPSY,  LADY  SPIFFINQTON.  WE  nv.ua.  His 
SERENE  HIGHNESS  HAS  BEEN  LOSING  HEAVILY  THIS  SEASON, 
WHICH  MAY  ACCOUNT  FOR  HIS  EXPRESSION. 


OKNKRAI,  SIR  HEBCUI.ES  HP.  Vi:iu:  BROWNE  WALKING  OS 

THIJ   TKMRACB   WITH  A   FU1KND. 


THE  DUSE  AND  DUCHESS  OP  DUMPSHIBE  LEAVING  THKIB 
HOTEL  AFTER  LUNCHEON. 


222 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


19,  1913. 


ANOTHER    MILITANT. 

Mother.  "So  YOU  IKIED  TO  TAKE  HEB  HOOP  AWAY  AND  SHE  BOXED  TOUB  EABS?    WELL,  u  BEBVED 
Hobby,  "On,  MUMMY,  MUMMY,  YOU  SEE-  I  DIDN'T  KNOW  SHE  WAS  A  SUFFBAOETTE  I  " 


QUITE  EIGHT  I" 


THE  CHANGELING. 

were  her  eyes  as  the  deeps  of  a  mountain-locked 
i  water, 

Pink  as  the  bloom  of  a  blush-rose  her  countenance  shone ; 
Love'tnade  of  my  heart,  Mrs.  Jones,  an  immediate  slaughter — 
I  refer  to  the  infant  you  showed  me  last  week,  to  the 
daughter 

Who  seems  to  have  gone. 

"  She  knew  a  good  thing  when  she  saw  it.     Not  everyone 

chooses, 

Directly  they  gaze  at  my  features,  to  burst  into  crows, 
But  she,  only  lately  alit  from  aerial  cruises, 
Sis  months  from  the  skies,  she  remembered  The  Masque  of 
the  Muses 

And  made  for  my  nose. 

"  It  was  love  at  first  sight ;  we  were  natures  predestined  to 

tally; 

And  I  think,  if  those  tales  of  a  former  existence  are  true, 
In  Babylon  I  and  your  daughter  erewhile  had  been  pally, 
For  as  soon  as  I  said  to  her,  'Diddums,'  she  answered  my  sally 
With  a  spirited  '  Goo '  I 

"  And  now  what  is  this  you  have  brought  me  ?     This  thing 

that  gets  furious, 

Howls  at  my  overtures,  screams  when  I  jest  as  I  did, 
Blind  to  all  bonds  of  the  past,  to  all  sense  of  a  curious 
Psychic  affinity.     Lady,  the  article 's  spurious  : 
That 's  not  your  kid. 


"  Not  a  trace  of  your  ravishing  child  I  detect  in  this  gaby, 
With  two  little  dots  in  a  plum-coloured  face ;  I  can  see 
Not  a  hint  of  my  fair  in  this  fractious — whatever  it  may  be ; 
I  don't  doubt  that  it 's  cutting  its  teeth,  but  your  genuine  baby 
Would  never  cut  me. 

"  I  am  sorry  (please  take  it  away  and  do  something  to  stop  it ; 
How  can  I  go  on  in  the  midst  of  this  horrible  moan '/) — 
I  am  sorry,  I  say,  for  your  bright,  your  original  poppst, 
But  the  facts  are  quite  patent,  the  gipsies  have  managed 
to  swap  it 

For  one  of  their  own." 

Sincerely  I  spoke.     To  assist  the  good  lady  I  said  it, 
But  (strange  to  relate)  she  took  umbrage;   with  kisses 

and  purrs 

Besmothered  the  bantling,  refused  altogether  to  credit 
My  views  on  its  origin ;  calmed  it  and  rocked  it  and  fed  it, 
And  still  says  it 's  hers.  EVOE. 

"  O'Neil  is  in  the  feather-weights  (9st.  and  under)  and  Pollard  com- 
petes in  tho  feather-weights  (lOst.  and  under)." — Gloucester  Citizen. 

JACK  JOHNSON,  we  understand,  is  another  entry  for  the 
feather-weights  (20st.  and  under). 

" '  The  factory  man  that  doesn't  have  belt  troubles  simply  beats 
the  trouble  bird  to  his  belts  and  keeps  thorn  in  order.'  That's  what 
our  New  York  manager,  Mr.  Gbase,  says,  and  he  has  had  as  much  or 
more  belt-.cxperience  than  any  man  we  know."- — Advt. 

We  do  not  like  this  sort  of  talk.     It  seems  to  us  hardly 
delicate. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIYABI.— MABOH  19,  1913. 


POUR    LA    PATRIE. 

FKAXCK  (calling  for  a  third  ,/ear  of  military  service).  "THIS  IS  A  GREAT  SACRIFICE  WHICH  YOUR 
COUNTRY    ASKS    OF    YOU,    MON    ENFANT.     ARE    YOU    READY    TO    MAKE    IT?" 
CITIZEN  SOLDIER.  ';  BUT    OF    COURSE." 


MAIH;H  19,  1913.J 


•|'l:\rir,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVAKf. 


225 


est  rnorte,      Vive   la 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(KXTKM'TKI)   FROM   Till:  UlMlY  OF  TOBY,  M.I'.) 

lloii.w  (if  Common*, 
10.—  /-"    .SV.s.s 
ijexxioit  ! 

Death  happened  last  Friday.  New 
birth  chili's  from  to-day.  House,  in  foot, 
lias  enjoyed  exhilarating  recess  of  two 
days,  one  being  Kunday,  the  other  in- 
cluding usual  Saturday  half-holiday. 
Keasonahle  to  expect  in  such  circum- 
stances that  legislators  who  for  thirteen 
months  have  had  their  noses  in  uncom- 
fortahle  proximity  to  Parliamentary 
grindstone  would  come  back  browned 
by  exposure  to  occasional  rain,  brimful 
of  health  and  spirits,  eager  to  buckle- 
to  at  business  of  fresh 
session.  On  the  con- 
trary, gathering  in  both 
Houses  unprecedent- 
edly  small,  deplorably 
depressed. 

Noble  Lords,  whose 
business  aptitude  is  well 
known,  having  listened 
to  speeches  from  mover 
an  (  1  seconder  of  Address, 
Leader  of  Opposition 
and  Leader  of  House, 
straightway  agreed,  and 
went  off  to  dinner  on 
stroke  of  half  -past 
seven.  The  Commons, 
faced  by  necessity  of 
working  double  tides 
in  order  to  meet  exi- 
gencies of  financial 
year,  which  closes  on 
31st,  could  not  stand 
things  later  than  nine 
minutes  to  eight,  at 
which  precise  moment 
a  dwindling  gathering 
dispersed.  But  they 
did  not  confirm  Address,  over  which 
talk  will  simmer  for  rest  of  the  week. 
When  limit  of  Ministerial  patience  is 
reached  there  will  be  loud  complaints 
of  tyrannical  shortening  of  debate. 
And  here,  on  very  first  night  of  Session, 
something  like  half  a  sitting  is  wantonly 
chucked  away. 

The  MEMBER  von  SAHK,  looking  in  at 
House  of  Lords,  found  ABEBCONWAY 
on  his  legs,  moving  Address  with 
successful  observance  of  consecrated 
custom  by  which  original  thought  or 
independent  criticism  is  regarded  as 
undesirable.  Afraid  worry  and  weari- 
ness of  long  Session  have  told  upon  a 
disposition  naturally"  kind,  peculiarly 
sweet.  SAHK  certainly  grumpy. 

"Seems  to  me,"  he  growled,  "Parlia- 
ment is  being  run  strictly  on  family 
lines.  Just  heard  FRANCIS  M'LABEN 
arrayed  in  velvet  and  fine  linen  make 
neat  little  speech  seconding  Address  in 


the  Commons.  Come  here  and  find 
my  old  friend,  his  father,  moving 
Address  in  Lords.'' 

Young  M'|,AHI:.V,  gifte:!  with  a  fine 
voice,  accomplished  in  elocution,  ac- 
!  quitted  himself  in  manner  that  drew 
frequent  cheers  from  both  sides.  Only 
threatened  note  of  discord  was  struck 
by  opening  sentence,  when  ho  described 
himself  as  the  youngest  Member  on 
Ministerial  side.  WKDGWOOD  BENN, 
seated  Gangway  end  of  Treasury  Bench, 
obviously  thought  remark  superfluous. 
Accustomed  to  have  that  distinction 
attributed  to  him — he  never  assumes 
anything  for  himself — naturally  did  not 
like  to  hear  it  claimed  by  another. 
Made  movement  as  if  about  to  rise  and 


I 


MOKE  BANBURY  SENSATIONS. 

enter  protest.  Fortunately  BANBURY, 
sitting  next  to  him,  quickly  discerned 
situation  and  laid  restraining  hand  on 
the  Cherub's  shoulder,  and  what  for 
half  a  minute  threatened  an  unpleasant 
scene  passed  over. 

BANBURY'S  appearance  on  Treasury 
Bench  created  consternation  in  Strang- 
ers' Gallery.  Eumour  ran  round  as- 
serting that  he  had  "  been  bought." 
Various  surmiees  as  to  particular  price 
extorted  for  so  great  a  possession. 
Some  said  he  bad  ousted  LLOYD 
GEORGE  from  the  Exchequer.  Others 
affirmed  that,  at  ten  minutes'  notice,  he 
had  undertaken  care  of  the  Navy,  vice 
WINSTON,  about  to  be  elevated  to  the 
House  of  Lords.  Absence  of  McKENNA 
from  Treasury  Bench  being  noticed,  it 
was  thought  that  BANBURY  had  ac- 
cepted the  Home  Secretaryship  and 
that  Suffragettes  had  better  look  out. 

Simple  fact   is  that,   in   accordance 


with  ancient  tradition,  the  MEMBER  FOR 
THK  CITY  OK  LONDON  lias  a  place  found 
for  him  on  Ministerial  Bench  on  open- 
ing night  of  new  Parliament.  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  doesn't  hanker  after  privilege. 
But  BANHUUY,  wrestling  with  native 
modesty,  takes  the  prominent  place, 
enlarging  the  bounds  of  precedent  to 
include  the  third  Session. 

Keference  in  Speech  from  the  Throne 

to    anniversary    of    KINO    EDWARD'S 

wedding-day   stirred   up   memories   of 

fifty   years   ago   in    bosom   of    young 

M'LAREN.     "Wo  are,"  he  said,   "all 

delighted  to  be  reminded  of  those  days 

long  ago  when  QUEEN  ALEXANDRA  came 

in  the  Spring  as  a  bride  to  London." 

Business  done. — Parliament  meets  for 

third  Session. 

Friday.— What  I 
like  about  ROWLAND 
HUNT  is  his  thorough- 
ness. Time  flies  so 
rapidly,  events  crowd 
upon  each  other  •with 
such  bewildering  in- 
sistence, that  his  first 
Parliamentary  achieve- 
ment is  forgotten.  Two 
years  ago  young  bloods 
of  Unionist  party,  con- 
vinced that  "  Arthur  is 
played  out,"  succeeded 
in  relieving  him  of  cares 
of  Leadership.  Have 
since  from  time  to  time 
had  occasion  to  medi- 
tate upon  sagacity  of 
the  move.  It  was  ROW- 
LAND HUNT  who  first 
raisedstandardofrevolt. 
Declared  from  his  place 
behind  Front  Opposi- 
tion Bench  that  he  had 
no  confidence  in  his 
nominal  Leader. 

This  too  much  even  for  cynical  in- 
difference of  PRINCE  ARTHUR.  Decided 
that  if  someone  must  go  he  was  not  the 
man  to  budge.  Accordingly  ROWLAND 
was  drummed  out  of  regiment,  Party 
whips  being  no  longer  sent  to  him. 
By-and-by  he  came  to  heel  again,  and 
has  since  reserved  his  gift  of  denuncia- 
tion for  more  legitimate  objects  on 
t'  other  side  of  the  table. 

Still  in  his  ashes  lives  their  wonted 
fire.  Amendments  to  Address  touching 
on  most  of  conceivable  topics  have 
through  the  week  crowded  the  paper. 
For  the  most  part  lengthy  in  phrase, 
rambling  in  argument,  they  excited  no 
interest.  Such  as  have  been  submitted 
have  not  succeeded  in  drawing  an  audi- 
ence appreciably  exceeding  a  quorum. 
Then  comes  ROWLAND,  effectively  bring- 
ing up  the  rear  with  an  amendment 
whose  comprehensiveness  encircles  the 
globe. 


2'3G 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAUCH  19,  1913. 


Ho  proposed  to  ask  the  House  to 
approach  the  Sovereign  with  expression 
of  regret  "that  Your  Majesty's  Govern- 
ment have  failed  to  provide  .sufficient 
forces  on  sea  or  land  or  in  the  air  .for 
preserving  the  safety  of  the  country 
and  the  Empire." 

Omission  of  reference  to  the  waters 
under  the  earth  seems  to  imply  excep- 
tional satisfaction  with  the  submarine 
flotilla.  Unfortunately  the  Amendment, 
Guiding  at  end  of  long  list,  was  not 
reached,  and  conjecture  on  this  point 
lacks  support  or  dismissal  by  explana- 
tion. 'Twill  serve  as  it  stood.  When 
mighty  intellect  has  bent  itself  to  con- 
sideration of  vital  issues  on  land  and 
sea  and  in  the  air,  what  is  happening  in 
the  deep  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean 
may,  like  Ministerial  plan  for  reform 
of  Second  Chamber,  be  left  for  consider- 
ation at  a  later  unnamed  date. 

Business  done. — After  five  days'  dreary 
debate  in  House  rarely  half  full,  Address 
agreed  to.  Main  interest  centres  in 
fact  that  at  opening  of  new  Session 
Ministerial  majority  was  maintained  at 
or  about  the  round  100. 


HOME    LIES. 
WHEN  she  comes  to  watch  me  play, 

Kate  (my  sister)  loves  to  brag 
Of  the  goal  I  dropped  one  day  ; 

Says  I  smashed  the  corner-flag. 
And  the  ribs  of  Jones  (the  blue)  - 
"  Quite  a  gentle  tackle,  too !  " 

When  rny  blind  untutored  smites 
Earn  their  spectacled  rewards, 

Katie  solemnly  recites 
How  I  stopped  the  clock  at  Lord's 

"  With  a  shot  that  HOHBS  or  FRY 

Simply  wouldn't  dare  to  try  !  " 

When,  again,  to  dearer  friends 
She  explains  with  what  an  ease, 

As  the  sacred  flame  descends, 
I  descend  to  lines  like  these — • 

Does  my  blushing  sweetheart,  Maud, 

Listen,  rapt  and  overawed  ? 

Not  a  bit  of  it ;  she  knows 

Any  self-respecting  kid 
Always  keeps  a  stock  of  those 

Things  her  brother  never  did — 
Knows  that  her  relations  weave 
Yarns  which  I  do  not  believe. 

All  her  people  love  to  spout 
Streams  of  eulogistic  rot, 

Vie  with  mine  in  pointing  out 
Virtues  that  we  haven't  got, 

Till  we  cry  through  tears  of  shame : 

"  Dear,  I  love  you  just  the  same  1 " 

"  The  Small  Woman. 
A  Plea  for  a  greater  Range  of  Ready -mado 
Sizes." — Daily  Chronicle. 

After  all,  size  is  not  everything. . 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  OPEN  WINDOWS." 
Wm:Tnr,u  or  not  Mr.  MASON,  when 
ho  is  out  to  write  one  of  his  pleasant 
books,  is  apt  to  look  at  real  life  too 
much  through  the  eyes  of  a  teller  of 
talcs  with  whom  the  story  comes  first 
ami  humanity  second,  it  is  certain  that 
his  now  play  betrays  the  hand  of  the 
novelist.  He  seemed  to  treat  his  audi- 
ence as  if  they  were  readers  of  a  serial 
of  which  they  had  had  the  misfortune 
to  miss  the  .first  twenty  chapters,  and 
nc3ded  a  rf.sumf.  of  the  foregoing  argu- 
ment. .Unhappily,  the  necessary  reve- 
lations had  to  be  made  by  word  of 
mouth,  -and  required  .  a  ve;y  delicate 
diplomacy,  and  this  took  up  practically 


John  Herrick  (Sir  GEORGE  ALEXANDER)  to 
I'hilip  Brook  (Mr.  SYDNEY  VALENTIN?:). 
"Your  request  that  I  should  hand  your 
daughter  over  to  you  is  couched  in  very 
unusual  terms.  You  say  nothing  about  '  the 
paternal  instinct.'  " 

the  whole  of  tlie  First  Act,  and  even 
then  they  were  none  too  clear.  But 
this  wouldn't  have  mattered  much  if 
Mr.  MASON,  in  his  anxiety  to  be  done 
with  his  preliminary  chapters,  had  not 
been  tempted  to  ignore  the  improbability 
of  some  of  the  conditions  under  which 
he  made  his  pricis.  Thus  for  the  pur- 
poses of  his  play  he  has  somehow  to 
impart  to  us  the  chequered  career  of 
Philip  Brook,  who  under  this  assumed 
name  is  acting  as  secretary  to  Sir 
Henry  Ohtffc.  ;  and  how  does  he  do  it  ? 
Scarcely  has  John  Herrick  (Home 
Secretary)  set  foot  for  the  first  time  in 
Sir  Henry's  country  house  on  a  week- 
end visit,  when  his  host  says  to  him  in 
so  many  words :  "  I  have  a  secretary 
who  has  by  heart  the  matter  of  the 
Bill  which  you  want  to  discuss;  but  if 
you  knew  all  that  I  know  of  his  past- 
how  he  said  he  had  climbed  Mount 


Everest  when  he  hadn't — you  might 
not  caro  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
him.  I  will  therefore  proceed  to  tell 
you  the  facts,  and  you  shall  decide  foi 
yourself."  Now  Sir  Henry  was  under 
no  sort  of  obligation  to  Herrick  to  tell 
him  Jlrook's  secret,  which  could  not 
conceivably  affect  the  value  of  his 
political  advice ;  but  he  must  have 
been  iincler  a  good  deal  of  obligation 
to  Brook  himself  not  to  tell  it.  Such, 
however,  are  the  exigencies  of  drama 
without  a  chorus  when  you  cut  out  the 
first  eighteen  years  of  your  story. 

However,  on  the  whole,  Mr.  MASON 
coped  very  adroitly  not  only  with  the 
technical  difficulties  involved  in  oui 
enlightenment,  hut  with  the  task  ol 
making  us  realize  a  tragedy  of  whose 
remote  origin  we  had  to  learn  by 
report.  Perhaps  he  would  have  done 
better  still  to  have  sacrificed  one  of  the 
unities,  as  he  did  in  Tin:  ]\'itncss  foi 
the  Defence,  where  he  showed  before 
our  eyes,  in  that  most  effective  'First 
Act,  the  source  of  all  the  subsequent 
trouble. 

Signs  were  not  wanting  (as  they  say) 
that  -he  has  been  studying  other  dra- 
matic conventions  besides  the  unities. 
His  -stage-irony  was  very  pronounced. 
When  Lady  Clnffc  went  out  of  her  way 
to  wonder  how  Herrick,  minion  of 
fortune,  would  conduct  himself  in  adver- 
sity, even  the  most  childlike  of  us 
looked  knowingly  up  to  the  blue  sky 
in  absolute  confidence  that  a  bolt  would 
presently  emerge. 

But  there  was  one  convention  which 
rather  irritated  me.  Eighteen  years  or 
so  before  the  curtain  rose,  Brook  had 
passed  a  "  riotous  "  week  with  his  lover 
in  Fontainebleau  (I  give  the  epithet 
which  she  employed  wheji  relieving 
her  husband's  curiosity  about  this  pre- 
nuptial  episode).  Being  too  poor  to 
marry  her,  and,  I  dare  say,  too  much 
pressed  for  time  (for  his  ship  had 
already  started  from  Tilbury),  Brook 
went  on  to  Marseilles  to  join  an  ex- 
ploration party  bound  for  the  Hima- 
layas. It  was  to  secure  a  name  for  the 
child  of  this  union  that  the  lady 
hurriedly  married  the.  unsuspecting 
Herrick.  But  not  once,  apparently, 
during  the  three  years  of  his  time  in 
the  East  did  it  occur  to  Brook  that 
there  could  be  any  question  of  a  child. 
Yet  he  was  not  without  imagination,  as 
shown  in  the  matter  of  Mount  Everest. 

Mr.  SYDNEY  VALENTINE,  who  took  the 
part  of  Brook,  recognised  that  a  man 
who  is  in  revolt  against  life  is  seldom  a 
very  lovable  personality;  and  lie  did  his 
best  (which  can  bo  very  good)  to  dis- 
courage sympathy.  On  the  other  hand, 
sympathy  was  invited  by  the  lady,  very 
attractively  played  by  Miss  IUENE  YAN- 
niuiGH.  And  I  might  have  been  quite 


MAHCII  19,  19I.-M 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAR  I  VMM. 


227 


Little  Soy.  "  CAKRY  YOCB  BAG,  Sm?" 


Man.  "No.1 


Little  Boy.  "  THEN  I  'OPE  IT  STRAINS  XEB.' 


sorry  for  her  if  I  could  have  convinced '  ought  to  have  been  pleased  when  her 
myself  that,  for  the  sake  of  legitimating  grace  and  sweetness   imposed   silence 
her  child,  this  woman,  who  at  the  time 
was  a  star  of  promise  in  the  art-world 
of  Bohemian  Paris,  would  have  thrown 
up  her  career,  married  a  man  she  didn't 


want,  and  gone  to  live  a  drab  life  with 
him  and  his  people  in  Norwood  (for 
these  were  still  the  days  of  his  ob- 
scurity). The  really  pitiful  figure  was 
Serrick  himself,  but  he  was  made  of 
rather  weak  stuff,  not  very  appealing. 

The  play  had  its  moment  of  sensa- 
tion. I  do  not  refer  to  the  audible 
thrill  that  ran  through  the  theatre  on 
the  butler's  announcement  that  Sir 
GEORGE  ALEXANDER  was  about  to  make 
his  first  entry.  I  refer  to  the  moment 
when  He  nick  summoned  Brook  to  his 
room  and  the  presence  of  his  wife.  The 
audience  was  palpably  intrigued.  Yet 
the  scene  when  they  met  was  not  very 
moving.  After  all  they  had  no  quarrel. 
Neither  had  wronged  the  other.  The 
real  wrong  done  was  by  the  wife  to  the 
husband,  and  she  remained  a  silent 
spectator  of  the  scene.  It  was  just 
a  question  whether  the  child  should  be 
told  the  truth  and  allowed  to  choose 
between  the  two  men.  I  am  ashamed 
to  say  I  was  not  much  concerned  one 
way  or  tho  other;  though  I  know  J 


upon    both    her    fathers— actual    and 
adoptive. 

Mr.  MASON'S  theme  did  not  make  for 
hilarity,  but  I  think  he  might  still  have 


given  us  more  to  laugh  about,  though 
I  grant  that  his  one  joke  was  quite 
good.  I  omit,  from  sheer  sense  of  tact, 
to  mention  the  unrehearsed  humours  of 
a  certain  deciduous  moustache,  which 
went  far  to  relieve  the  strain  of  the 
Second  Act.  The  gay  girlishness  of 
Elsie  (very  prettily  played  by  Miss 
ROSALIE  TOLLER)  brought  relief,  but 
tempered  by  the  reflection  that  she 
was  the  very  centre  round  which  the 
tragedy  turned. 

The  acting  throughout  was  sound, 
but  it  revealed  no  very  new  talent  and 
added  little  to  established  reputations. 

In  conclusion  you  may  want  to  know 
what  the  "  Open  Windows  "  were  for, 
and  what  they  opened  on.  I  think  they 
had  something  to  do  with  sanitation ; 
and  I  know  they  had  nothing  to  do 
With  KEATS.  I  have  an  impression 
that  they  were  first  mentioned  in  con- 
nection with  Norwood;  and  there,  of 
course,  the  view  from  them  may  well 
have  been  "forlorn";  but  not  over 
"  faerie  lands."  0.  S. 


••IN    THE    SPRING." 

WE  select  the  following  items,  from 
various  catalogues  which  have  lately 
reached  us,  as  being  in  harmony  with 
the  approaching  wedding  season : — 

Miss  FOHTEBCUE  (LILY). — Delicately 
tinted  with  pink ;  long  slender  white 
throat ;  very  elegant  and  graceful ; 
slightly  scented ;  looks  best  by  artificial 
light;  very  popular  in  drawing-rooms 
and  conservatories  during  winter 
months ;  requires  attention ;  must  not 
be  cut. 

Miss  WINGATE  (DAis\). — A  strong 
new  growth;  crimson  lips,  bright 
eyes ;  reaches  perfection  out  of  doors 
when  allowed  to  run  wild ;  may 
be  introduced  anywhere  with  con- 
fidence. 

THE  HON.  MRS.  PENDIUGON  (ROSE). 
— An  old  favourite ;  mature,  well 
rounded,  sturdy  growth;  clinging 
variety ;  needs  re-planting  in  order  to 
thrive. 

LORD  RONALD  (KENTISH  NUT).— 
True  stock;  thin,  extra  curled,  quick 
sprouting  imperial  variety;  much  in 
request  for  dinner-tables. 

Miss  PERKINS  (WALLFLOWER). — 
Very  hardy ;  blooms  all  the  yenr  round ; 
requires  no  attention. 


223 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAKCH  19,  1913. 


THE   SOFA-DOG. 

'•NAUGHTY  3og,"  said  Francesca — she  was  addressing, 
not  me,  but  the  Great  Dane— "  you  have  been  on  the  sofa 
again." 

••  Well,"  I  said,  "he's  off  it  now.  As  soon  as  lie  heard 
your  fairy  footsteps  in  the  passage  ho  began  to  slink  off. 
It 's  quite  wonderful  what  an  ear  dogs  have  for  footsteps." 

"He's  a  very  wicked  dog,"  said  Francesca. 

"No,  no!  Ho  thinks  it's  a  trick.  He's  got  ttinto  his 
head  that  you  'd  be  bitterly  disappointed  if  he  didn't  get  on 
to  the  sofa  when  you  're  not  in  the  room  and  get  off  it  as 
soon  as  he  hears  you  coming.  Just  you  try  him.  Go  into 
the  passage.  There  !  Ho  's  up  again.  Knock  at  the  door. 
Didn't  1  tell  you?  Isn't  he  the  quickest  mover  out  of  a 
sofa  you  ever  saw '?  Oh,  good  dog,  good  dog !  " 

"  Sofas,"  said  Francesca,  "  are  not  meant  for  dogs.  You 
encourage  him  to  spoil  them.  You  never  think  of  the  covers 
he  ruins." 

"Oh,  yes,"  I  said,  "I  do.  I  know  the  covers  by  heart. 
Let  me  tell  you  what  they  are.  There  are  two  brown 
herons  apparently  feasting  on  red  azaleas,  blue  convol- 
vuluses (or  convolvuli,  if  you  prefer  it)  and  yellow  melons. 
It  is  an  intricate  and  beautiful  picture  of  heron-life,  when 
the  world  was  a  younger  and  a  better  place." 

"  It  was  not  designed  for  dogs,"  she  said. 

"There,"  I  said,  "you  go  again.  For  my  part,  I  believe 
the  inventor  intended  his  pattern  to  be  completed  by  a  dog. 
It  was  his  last  picture.  He  had  meant  to  weave  in  a  dog 
somewhere,  but  death  came  upon  him  before  he  had  time. 
'  Put  a  dog  with  the  herons,'  he  murmured  with  his  last 
breath,  but  they  did  not  understand  him.  And  now  this 
dumb  animal  of  ours  takes  up  a  great  artist's  thought  and 
completes  it." 

"  Covers  it  with  mud,"  she  said. 

"Completes  it,"  I  repeated.  "That  dog  teaches  us  all  a 
lesson.  Francesca,  do  you  know  who  said  that  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "it  was  NAPOLEON,  but  he  did  not 
speak  of  furniture." 

"He  spoke  of  what  he  saw,  and  so  do  I.  And,  what  is 
more,  I  will  not  allow. — — -" 

"You  must  not,"  she  said,  "be  too  Napoleonic.  Such 
an  attitude  is  improper  in  a  modest  household  like  ours. 
You  were  going  to  say ?" 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  I  will  not  allow  myself  to 
speak  harshly  to  you,  even  if  you  fail  in  sympathy  with  the 
natural  desire  of  a  dog  to  avoid  draughts." 

"Draughts?" 

"  Yes,  draughts.  You  will  find  if  you  lie  down  on  the 
floor  that  it  is  a  mass  of  draughts." 

She  bent  herself  to  the  carpet.  "There  isn't  a  vestige  of 
draught,"  she  said. 

"Not  there,  Francesca,"  I  cried.  "That's  the  only 
draughtless  spot  in  the  room.  Try  close  to  the  door.  Lie 
down  there  with  your  face  on  your  paws.  Look  oui !  The 
butler's  coming." 

"  He  isn't." 

"  No.  I  invented  him ;  but  you  don't  do  it  as  well  as 
(lie  dog." 

"  You  are  too  clever  this  morning,"  she  said. 

"  It  is  a  way  I  have,"  I  said. 

"  And  that  being  so,"  she  continued,  "  I  have  determined 
to  resign  all  my  household  duties  into  your  hands." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  overwhelm  me." 

"Poor  dear,"  she  went  on,  talking  softly  to  herself,  "  it  is 
a  very  hard  morning  for  him  to  begin  on." 

"  No  matter,"  I  said ;  "  I  am  ready.  Only  tell  me  what 
I  have  to  do,  so  that  I  may  note  it  down  on  paper." 

"  Food  first,"  she  said.     "  You  will  start  with  the  cook." 


"Oh,  but  that's  delightful!"  I  said.  "Do  you  know, 
Francesca,  that  it  has  been  my  one  ambition  to  interview 
Mrs.  Pears  officially  ?  I  have  caught  glimpses  of  her  when 
the  children  have  had  Christmas  trees,  but  now  I  shall 
really  know  her." 

"  That 's  capital,"  said  Francesca.  "  And  you  must  order 
luncheon  and  dinner,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "we  will  lunch  on  beefsteak  and  kidney 
pie,  roly-poly  pudding,  and,  just  to  celebrate  the  occasion, 
a  Welsh  rarebit." 

"  An  excellent  meal  for  the  children,"  she  said.  "Alice 
and  Frederick  particularly  will  revel  in  it.  But  there  might 
not  bo  any  kidneys." 

"  No  kidneys !  "  I  said.  "  There  must  be  millions  of 
kidneys  in  the  world." 

"Then,"  she  said,  "you  must  think  of  the  servants,  and 
you  must  order  dinner  for  us.  But  I  will  not  interfere  with 
you  further." 

"Oli,  yes,"  I  said,  "do  interfere  with  me.  I  want  you 
to.  I  like  it.  I 'm  not  like  some.  I— 

"Well  then,"  she  said,  "after  Mrs.  Pears  you  must  see 
nurse.  She 's  dissatisfied  about  something.  And  the 
housemaid  wants  to  consult  you  about  linen ;  and  Bain 
has  a  list  of  garden  things  ho  wants  to  buy  ;  and  the 
boot-boy's  mother  is  going  to  call  at  11  o'clock  to  plead 
the  cause  of  her  son,  who  has  done  something  abominable 
with  a  catapult ;  and  after  that  you  '11  have  to  sit  by  Muriel 
and  Nina  while  they  practise ;  and  there  '11  be  lots  of  other 
things  turning  up  as  you  go  along.  Away  with  you  now 
to  your  work,  and  whatever  happens  keep  a  bravo  heart 
and  a  smiling  face.  I  shall  stay  here  to  look  after  the 
dog  and  muse  on  the  mutability  of  human  affairs." 

"Francesca,"  I  said  after  a  pause,  "I  have  been  thinking 
this  matter  over,  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
things  had  better  go  on  as  they  are." 

"  I  thought  you  'd  think  that,"  she  said. 

"  The  duties  you  propose  to  me,  though  various,  are 
slight  and  unimportant.  1  should  perform  them  too  well 
and  too  quickly,  and  I  should  thus  put  a  slur  on  all  your 
past  activities.  You  would  never  bo  able  to  look  me  in  the 
face  again.  I  cannot  bear  that  thought.  Go  and  busy 
yourself  about  the  hive  while  I  stay  here  and  guard  your 
self-respect." 

"And  you  may  as  well,"  she  said,  "keep  an  eye  on  the 
furniture." 

"  Get  down  at  once,  Odin,"  I  said.  "  Sofas  were  not 
meant  for  dogs."  E.  C.  L. 

REAL    TURTLE. 
Ox  the  cold  of  a  pavement  in  ugly  E.G., 

A  show  for  the  idle  and  curious  giving, 
Crude  calipash  stiffens  and  crude  calipee, 

Past  feeling,  let 's  hope,  but  yet  horribly  living ; 
Chelonian,  spoil  of  a  warm  tropic  tide, 

With  horny  eyes  glazing,  with  flippers'  faint  gc.-ture, 
They  've  laid  him — awaiting  a  summons  inside, 

Where  the  chef  and  his  satellites  stand  in  while 
vesture. 

Does  he  hear — if  at  all,  as  I  hope  he  does  not — 

In  the  chatter  around  him  the  monkeys  that  quarrel 
Where  the  palms   fringe   the   beaches,  blue,  steamy 
and  hot? 

Is  the  roar  of  the  traffic  the  surf  on  the  coral  ? 
I  know  not,  but  only  beg  leave  to  opine 

That  he  's  helplessly  tragic,  an  object  of  pity  ; 
May  his   ghost   haunt  your  slumbers,  O  masters  of 
mine, 

Who  at  seven  absorb  turtle  soup  in  the  City. 


MAECH 

19, 

1913.] 

PUNCH, 

OB 

TIIK 

LONDON' 

CII  Alt  IV  A  III. 

229 


Sportsman.  "  CAS  YOU  TELL  MB  WHERE  TO  SEND  A  HANDKERCHIEF  I  HAVE  FOOND  BELOXGISCJ  TO  FATHER  MALOHEV?" 
Irish  Priest.  "I  CAN;   BUT  HE'LL  HAVE  NO  USE  FOB  UT.    HB 's  BEEN  IN  HIVES  THESE  THREE  WEEKS." 


THE    EASTER    BONNET. 

A  COMEDY  OP  A  PARCELS  LIFT. 

J//.s.s  Sclini  Light-foot  toViolettc  et  Cie. 
Easter  Sunday,  1911. 

DEAR  MADAM, — I  am  greatly  dis- 
appointed not  to  receive  the  Marie 
Stuart  bonnet  which  you  promised  me 
faithfully  should  ho  here  on  Saturday 
evening.  The  result  is  that  I  have  had 
to  attend  church  in  my  old  one,  thus 
breaking  a  habit  now  many  years  old 
of  wearing  new  things  on  this  day. 
But  what  troubles  me  more  is  your 
failure  to  keep  your  word,  for  that  has 
never  happened  before. 

Yours  truly,     SELIKA  LIOHTFOOT. 

Violette  et  Gie  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

(By  hand.)  Easter  Tuesday. 

DKAR  MADAM, — Your  letter  is  very 

surprising,  for  our  messenger-boy,  who 

brings  tins,  positively  assures  us  that 

lie  placed  the  bonnet  in  the  parcels  lift 

to  your  flat  on  Saturday  at  about  5.30. 

As  the  box  was  too  large  for  the  lift  he 

i  took  out  the  bonnet  and  wrapped  somo 

silver  paper  round  it. 

We  are    Yours  obediently, 

VIOLETTE  ET  CIE. 

Miss  Lighlfoot  to  Violette  et  Cie. 
Easter  Tuesday. 
DEAB  MADAM, — I  of  course  accept 


the  word  of  your  messenger.   He  seems  j  siderately  during   his   absence.     It  is 


a  very  nice  honest  sort  of  boy ;  but 
unfortunately  I  cannot  verify  it  as  I 
should  like  to,  as  the  lift  has  stuck  in 
the  flat  above;  and  as  the  occupants — 
an  elderly  gentleman  and  his  servant — 
are  away  for  the  Easter  holidays  we 
cannot  get  in  to  liberate  it.  If,  as  I 
cheerfully  believe,  the  bonnet  is  in  this 
lift,  I  will  obtain  possession  of  it  on 
their  return. 

Yours  truly,     SELINA  LIGHTFOOT. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 
(To  await  arrival.) 

Easter  Tuesday. 

Miss  Lightfoot  presents  her  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Browell  and  begs  to  draw 
his  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
parcels  lift  has  been  stuck  in  his  flat 
ever  since  his  departure,  to  the  great 
annoyance  and  inconvenience  of  the 
other  tenants.  Will  he  kindly  have  it 
put  right  immediately?  If  by  any 
chance  a  parcel  in  silver  paper  should 
be  in  the  lift  Miss  Lightfoot  would  be 
glad  to  have  it. 

Mr.  Rupert  Browell  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

Three  days  later. 

Mr.  Browell  presents  his  compli- 
ments to  Miss  Lightfoot  and  begs  to 
say  that  he  exceedingly  regrets  that 
the  lift  should  have  behaved  so  incon- 


now  mended.     Mr.  Browoll  has  plea- 
sure  in   sending   Miss    Lightfoot    the 
lilver  paper  parcel. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 

The  same  day, 

Miss  Lightfoot  presents  her  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Browell  and  would  take 
it  as  a  favour  if  he  would  inform  her  if 
the  fish  which  has  been  occupying  the 
lift  for  the  past  five  days  with  her 
parcel  belonged  to  him. 

Mr.  Browell  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

The  same  day. 

Mr.  Browell  presents  his  compliments 
to  Miss  Lightfoot  and  begs  to  state  that 
the  fish  was  a  haddock  ordered  by  his 
housekeeper  before  she  was  aware  that 
both  ho  and  she  were  going  away  for 
Easter. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Violctle  ct  Cic. 
The  same  day. 

DEAR  MADAM, — I  find  that,  as  I 
anticipated,  your  boy  was  quite  truthful. 
The  bonnet  was  in  the  lift ;  but  by  a 
sad  mischance  the  lift  contained  also 
a  haddock,  which,  since  it  was  there 
some  days,  has  saturated  the  bonnet 
with  the  odour  of  fish.  Do  you  think 
anything  could  be  done  to  put  it  right, 
and  ought  not  the  owner  of  the  flat 


230 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  19,  1913. 


above,  where  all  the  trouble  occurred, 
to  pay  for  it  ? 
I  am, 

Yours  truly, 

HKLINA  LIGHTFOOT. 

Violette  et  Cie.  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 
The  next  day 

DEAU  MADAM, — If  you  will  send  the 
bonnet  we  will  see  what  can  be  done. 
Probably  a  new  lining  will  serve.  In 
any  case  wo  agree  with  you  that  it  is 
hard  that  the  expense  should  fall  on 
you.  Yours  faithfully, 

VlOLETTE  ET  ClE. 

Miss  Liijhtfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 

The  same  day. 

Miss  Lightfoot  presents  her  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Browell  and  begs  to 
inform  him  that  her  bonnet  has  been 
rendered  unwearable  by  spending  five 
days  in  the  company  of  his  haddock 
in  a  restricted  space.  Miss  Lightfoot 
would  be  glad  to  know  what  Mr. 
Browell  proposes  to  do  about  it. 

Mr.  Browell  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

The  same  day. 

Mr.  Browell  presents  his  compliments 
to  Miss  Lightfoot  and  greatly  regrets 
that  her  bonnet  has  been  rendered  un- 
wearable, but  he  suggests  that  the 
proper  person  to  approach  would  be 
the  landlord,  who  is  responsible  for  the 
lift  being  kept  in  working  order.  It 
was  not  Mr.  Browell's  purchase  of  a 
fish  that  was  irregular,  but  the  failure 
of  the  machinery  which  moves  the  lift 
freely  up  and  down. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Violette  et  Cie. 
The  same  day. 

DEAR  MADAM, — If,  as  you  think,  a 
new  lining  will  meet  the  case  I  agree 
to  that  being  done;  but  I  know  that 
I  shall  always  feel  conscious  of  the 
bonnet's  aroma,  even  if  it  has  none,  and 
I  shall  wear  it  only  in  the  streets, 
omnibuses,  &c.,  and  never  when  calling, 
and  never,  of  course,  in  church.  Please 
tell  me  what  the  cost  of  the  lining  will 
be.  Yours  truly, 

SELINA  LIGHTFOOT. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 

Two  days  later. 

Miss  Lightfoot  presents  her  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Browell  and  begs  to 
inform  him  that  the  landlord  denies 
responsibility.  According  to  his  letter 
he  is  surprised  that  Mr.  Browell  should 
leave  his  flat  for  so  long  with  a  fish  in 
the  lift.  Miss  Lightfoot  has  ascertained 
that  a  new  lining  to  her  bonnet,  the 
least  that  can  be  done  to  it,  will  cost 
four  shillings,  and  she  begs  to  suggest 
that  Mr.  Browell  should  discharge  this 
account. 


Mr.  Browell  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

The  same  day. 

Mr.  Browell  presents  his  compliments 
to  Miss  Lightfoot  and  begs  to  say  that 
he  considers  the  landlord's  reply  evasive. 
At  the  same  time  he  cannot  acquit  him- 
self of  a  certain  negligence  in  the  matter 
of  the  fish,  and  he  therefore  begs  that 
Miss  Lightfoot  will  allow  him  to  defray 
the  cost  of  a  new  bonnet  and  dispense 
with  the  injured  one  altogether. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 

The  same  day. 

Miss  Lightfoot  presents  her  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Browell  and  begs  to  thank 
him  for  his  extreme  courtesy  in  the 
matter  of  the  bonnet  and  the  fish. 

Mr.  Broivcll  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

A  week  later. 

Mr.  Browell  presents  his  compliments 
to  Miss  Lightfoot  and  would  like  to 
inquire  if  she  is  a  "Patience"  player, 
because  if  so  he  would  greatly  esteem 
the  privilege  of  calling  upon  her  to 
explain  a  very  fascinating  variety  known 
as  "  The  king  stops  the  way,"  which 
she  possibly  may  not  know  and  which 
comes  out  only  once  in  very  many 
times. 

Miss  Lightfoot  to  Mr.  Browell. 

November  8,  1911. 

MY  DEAR  MB.   BROWELL, — I    have 
done  it   at  last !      It    came  out  this 
evening,  absolutely  honestly  too.    I  feel 
prouder  than  I  can  say. 
Yours  sincerely, 

SELINA  LIGHTFOOT. 

Mr.  Browell  to  Miss  Lightfoot. 

Easter  Sunday,  1912. 
DEAREST  SELINA, — Please  accept  the 
accompanying  flowers  as  a  reminder  of 
last  year's  embarrassments  and  their 
happy  sequel. 

Your  devoted          BUPERT. 


From  T)ie  Times  of  June  3,  1912  :— 
BROWELL  :  LIGHTFOOT. — On  the  2nd 
June,  at  Holy  Trinity  Church,  Sloane 
Square,  by  the  uncle  of  the  bride,  Canon 
Lightfoot,  assisted  by  the  Eev.  Morrice 
Boy,  Eupert  Browell,  of  Belvedere 
Mansions,  S.W.,  to  Selina  Lightfoot, 
second  daughter  of  the  late  Major 
Lightfoot. 

The  Danger  of  Dictating  with,  a  Lisp. 

"  Office-boy  wanted,  to  make  himself  youth- 
ful."— Advt.  in  "  Manchester  Evening  News." 

"In  nearly  all  that  pertains  to  woman's 
dress  England  has  made  and  is  making  great 
strides." — Daily  Mail. 

One  of  the  exceptions  must  be  the 
skirt.  Nobody  makes  great  strides  in 
th'at. 


HALF  AND    HALF; 
OR,  THE  HAPPY  MEAN. 

[The  fashion  columns  of  an  evening  paper 
definitely  threaten  tho  Zouave,  or  trouser 
skirt.] 

JONES'S  sails  will  now  want  trimmin' ; 
No  more  scope  henceforth  for  him  in 
Laying  down  the  law  to  women. 

Frankly,  dismally  he  owns 
He  was  all  for  picking  bones 
Up  to  now  with  Mrs.  Jones. 

She  is  pretty,  she  is  good, 
But  to  all  who  ask  her  would 
Say  she  is  misunderstood. 

All  the  intellectual  pitch, 
All  the  noble  purpose  which 
Animates  the  smarter  rich 

In  a  very  marked  degree 
Animates  herself,  but  ho 
Calls  it  mere  frivolity. 

When  she  kept  a  poodle  cat, 
Very  bald  and  very  fat, 
He  did  not  approve  of  that. 

When  she  danced  the  Flapper's  Flit 
(Hailed  in  Kensington  as  It) 
He  professed  to  have  a  fit. 

When  she  smoked  her  first  cigar 
(Oh,  how  narrow  husbands  are  1 ) 
"  You,"  said  he,  "  have  gone  too  far." 

In  tho  breezy  tete-a-tete     , 
Which  ensued,  he  begged  to  state, 
She  must  be  "  more  moderate." 

How  then  could  the  man  be  hurt 
Later  to  behold  her  girt 
In  a  knickerbocker  skirt 

Coming  down  below  the  calves  ? 

"  When,"  she  said,  "  I  wear  Zouaves, 

I  am  doing  things  by  halves." 


Commercial  Candour. 
Notice  in  a  shop-window  : — 

"Look.  Look.  Look. 

Price  Low.  Quality  High. 

Beef  Sausages. 

4d.  Ib. 
Try  them  and  note  the  flavour." 

"Pruning  is  one  of  the  operations  to  which 
the  old  saw  .  .  .  is  peculiarly  applicable." 

Daily  News. 

Personally  we  have  tried  pruning  our 
apple-trees  with  an  old  saw  and  cannot 
recommend  it. 

A  Dangerous  Business. 

"NEGOTIATION  GOING  ON. 
The  National  Union  of  Eailwaymen  is  nego- 
tiating with  the  Board  of  Trade. 

NBGOTIATOK  INJUEED. 
Mr.  F.  E.  Smith,  while  out  hunting  at 
Bicestor  had   a  toss  while  negotiating  nome 
posts  and  rails  and  hud  his  rib  broken." 

Madras  Times. 


For  the  Actor-Manager's  Cigar. 
"For    Sale. — Massive    Hall-marked    Silver 
Cigar  Case.     Size  5ft.  by  3ft." 

Advt.  in  "  Statesman.''1 


MARCH  19,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


231 


THE    SUSPECTED    SEX. 

Stationmaster-ciim-parter  of  wayside  "Halt."  "'ERE,  BILL,  JUST  KEEP  AN  BYE  ON  THE  OLE  OAL  ON  THE  PLATFORM  WHILST  I 

GETS  MY   DINNKB."  Bill.    "WHOFFOR?      SHE  CAN'T  COMB  TO  NO   "ABM." 

Stationmastcr.  "I'M  NOT  THINKIN'  OF  'EB  'EALTH,  I'M  THINKIN'  ABOUT  MY  STATION.     SHE  MIGHT  WANT  TO>  BUHN  IT  DOWN." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

QUITE  unshaken  by  the  realists,  Mrs.  HUMPHRY  WARD 
still  continues  to  uphold  the  Eight ;  and  very  well  it  is  for 
the  land-owners  of  England  that  she  does  so,  for  Mr. 
Edmund  Melrose,  most  dramatic  of  the  figures  who  in- 
fluence The  -Mating  of  Lydia  (SMITH,  ELDER),  tyrannical, 
sinister,  italianate,  combining  a  passion  for  antiques  with 
the  worst  excesses  of  rack-renting  and  unrighteous  evict- 
ment,  would  have  been  just  the  fellow  for  Mr.  LLOYD 
GKOKOE  to  get  his  knife  into ;  as  it  is,  a  timely  shot  in  the 
dark — and  the  pacified  CHANCELLOR  will  rake  in  colossal 
death-duties,  whilst  the  estate,  handed  over  through  the 
generosity  of  the  heir  to  the  wicked  virtuoso's  disowned 
daughter,  will  be  merged  with  that  of  Lord  Tatham,  type 
of  all  that  is  best  in  our  ancient  aristocracy.  The  Mating  of 
Lydia  is  dowered  with  Mrs.  HUMPHRY  WARD'S  accustomed 
dignity  of  style,  painstaking  if  not  too  intimate  characterisa- 
tion, and  wealth  of  unconcealed  knowledge.  (Did  you  know 
that  certain  Cumbrian  dalesmen  still  preserved  the  ancient 
"  yan-tyan-tethera "  and  so  on  for  "  one-two-three "  in 
counting  their  sheep?)  Lydia  is  a  slightly  advanced — but, 
oh,  so  slightly  advanced — young  woman  who  sketches  the 
Cumberland  scenery.  Wooed  ardently  by  young  Lord 
Tatham  she  prefers  Claude  Faversham,  before  whom  a 
moral  struggle  lies.  Agent  and  heir-expectant  of  the 
Byronic  miser,  he  has  to  decide  whether  he  will  break  with 
him  if  he  cannot  persuade  him  to  repair  the  insanitary 
cottages  that  fester  on  his  domains.  Enough  to  say  that 
Virtue  triumphs  in  the  end,  as  it  did  in  the  brave  days  of 
old  before  fiction  had  condescended  to  the  lovrer  middle- 


classes,  the  Pottery  towns,  and  the  outer  suburbs.  To  all 
tired  travellers  in  these  wildernesses  I  recommend  The 
Mating  of  Lydia. 

Perhaps  when  I  have  proclaimed  myself  as  this  great 
while  past  onex>f  the  most  zealous  admirers  of  "  GEORGE  A.: 
BIEMINGHAM,"  which  I  certainly  am,  he  will  allow  me  to! 
produce  one  very  small  bone  for  picking  between  us.  It  is. 
not  that  I  in  the  least  object  to  his  recapturing  the  first' 
fine  careless  rapture  of  his  funny  stories  by  repeating  them. 
I  do  not.  Indeed,  1  myself  could  be  after  reading  them; 
every  day  for  a  whole  year  and  more,  the  way  I  would  still' 
be  amused  at  the  hinder  end  of  it.  What  I  do  think, 
unnecessary  is  that  ho  should  call  his  new  book  Doctor, 
Wfiitty  (METHUEN),  when  that  plausible  hero  is  so  obviously; 
Dr.  Lucius  O'Grady  and  no  one  else.  Moreover,  not  onlyi 
does  it  contain  at  length  the  episode  of  the  local  band! 
and  the  National  Anthem,  but  the  other  characters  of| 
Ballintra  tally  exactly  with  those  of  Ballymoy,  namely,! 
Colonel  Richardson  with  Major  Kent,  Thady  Glynn  with! 
Timothy  Doyle,  and  so  on,  each  with  each.  The  artist  of; 
the  picture-wrapper  seems  to  have  felt  this  as  much  as' 
I  did,  for  his  Dr.  WJiitty  is  as  like  Mr.  CHARLES  HAWTBEY! 
as  makes  no  difference.  So  why  not  have  added  the  Regan\ 


episode  and  sold  it  as  the  book  of  the  play?  However, 
this  once  stated,  I  have  only  to  record  as  usual  my  delighted! 
appreciation  of  Canon  HANNAY'S  engaging  hero,  his  wiles, 
his  geniality,  and  his  happy  economies  of  the  truth.  So 
long  as  the  reverend  author  continues  thus  successfully 
not  to  leave  gaiety  all  to  the  laity  he  may  call  his! 
characters  by  what  names  he  pleases  and  be  sure  of  aj 
welcome  from  me. 


232 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAKCH  19,  1913. 


It  is  asserted  by  those  in  tho  know  that  a  book,  to  have 
iinv  dunce  of  a  remunerative  circulation  nowadays,  must 
be 'a  novel,  and  the  blame  for  this  is  attributed,  with  some 
confidence,  to  the  depraved  taste  of  the  modern  public.  As 
ono  of  the  accused  I  resent  the  imputation  and  reply  that  if 
authors  would  treat  us  with  less  contempt  wo  should  bo 
oven  more  free  with  our  money.  Tako  the  case  of  C.  N.  and 
A.  M.  WILLIAMSON  ;  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  peculiar  gift 
of  those  brilliant  collaborators  is  the  writing  up  of  motor 
tours  in  a  style  inimitably  vivid  and  light-hearted.  As  long 
us  they  continue  their  offer  to  put  us  in  a  car  and  give  us 
a  run  over  any  part  of  the  earth,  no  one  will  refuse  the  lift. 
Why  then  overload  the  caboodle  with  an  alien  plot  of 
fictitious  passion  and  adventure?  Had  The  Love  Pirate 
(METHUEN)  been  entitled  The  CaUfornian  Tour  and  been 
written  as  such,  I  should  have  been  the  last  person  to  be 
disagreeable  about  it — it  was  the  best  of  Ions  voyages ;  but 
the  "alleged  virtues  of  Nick  IlilUard  and  the  Princess  di 
Sereno,  their  loves  and  escapades,  could  not  convince  and 
might  bore  even  a  child.  All  the  end  and  most  of  the 
middle  of  the  story  were  apparent  as  soon  as  one  read  the 
beginning.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  authors'  intentions 
are  of  the  kindest ; 
they  feel  obliged  to  en- 
tertain their  passengers 
en  route  and  to  adopt 
this  orthodox  way  of 
doing  it.  '  Let  them,  say 
I,  relieve  themselves 
of  any  such  obligation 
on  any  future  trips 
which  they  may  invite 
me  to  take  in  their 
company,  and  I,  for  my 
part,  shall  hope  there 
will  be  many  such. 
There  is  still  plenty  of 
ground  to  cover  and 
one,  if  only  one,  form 
of  motor  with  which 
they  have  not  yet  ex- 
perimented, to  wit,  our 
old  friend,  the  Bed  General,  of  the  Heavy  Brigade. 

Mr.  CHARLES  MARRIOTT'S  fine  craftsmanship,  his  faculties 
of  sensitive  observation  and  fastidious  selection  increase  (as 
is  seemly  but  none  too  common)  with  the  ripeness  of  his 
experience.  There  are  a  thousand-and-one  charms  in  The 
Catfish  (HURST  AND  BLACKETT)  and  not  a  page  over  which 
one  does  not  murmur,  "How  true!"  or  "How  jolly!"  or 
"By  Jove,  that  is  so!"  The  Catfish,  "the  demon  of  the 
deep,"  is,  apparently,  to  cod  as  a  cat  to  rats — uncomfort- 
able but  extraordinarily  stimulating.  Yet  the  very  delicate 
portrait  of  Mary  Festing,  who,  herself  passed  by,  loves  and 
understands  and  mothers  George.  Tracy,  the  hero,  ill 
deserves  such  a  label  under  it.  I  make  bold  to  say  that 
it  is  the  only  wrong  thing  in  Mr.  MARRIOTT'S  book.  The 
rest  is  sheer  delight.  The  story  is  just  the  development 
of  this  central  character  of  George-,  with  so  much  of  the 
lives  and  thoughts  of  others  as  shall  serve  to  illuminate  it, 
and  the  author  has  handled  his  theme  with  an  admirable 
restraint.  With  a  few  deft  touches  he  has  presented  quite 
a  dozen  and  a  half  of  sentient,  articulate,  lovable  people. 
He  has  dared  to  see  and  to  state  the  beauty  that  is  in  life 
touched,  yet  unclouded,  by  sorrow,  but  not  made  squalid  in 
the  neo-realist  manner.  George  Tracy  is  too  much  alive, 
one  would  say,  to  be  a  portrait ;  lie  is  the  creation  of  an 
affectionate  student  of  his  kind.  He  remains  interesting 
to  the  end,  which  is  marriage.  But  his  childhood  is  the 


outstanding  triumph  of  this  remarkable  miniature.  Such 
and  such  things  are  thought  and  said  and  suffered  by  the 
human  boy,  and  such  and  such  wounds  he  deals,  unwillingly 
and  halt-wittingly,  to  those  he  loves.  And,  to  be  frank,  I 
find  this  George  Tract/  worth  all  the  Stalkies  on  the  one 
side  and  the  Eric  Littlebylittles  on  tho  other  of  the  modern 
novelists'  galleries  of  odd  and  even  boys. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  STANLEY  WKYMAN  traitor-hero  is 
rather  vieux  jeu.     At  first,  like  ping-pong,  he  was  piquant 


because  he  was  nsw. 
He  comes  from  Paris. 


But  now  we  know  all  about  him. 
To  save  his  neck  or  fill  his  depleted 


purse  he  has  agreed  to  spy  upon  the  noblesse,  of  which  he  is 
an  off-shoot,  and  not  till  the  last  chapter  will  his  gallantry 
and  his  misfortunes  overcome  tho  scorn  with  which  he 
inspires  the  blue-blooded  damsel  whom  he  fain  would  wed. 
In  Skipper  Anne  (HoDDER  AND  STOUOHTON),  Miss  MABIAN 
BOWER  has  tried  to  break  new  ground  by  making  NAPOLEON 
send  her  young  gentleman  of  Franco  to  England,  to  the 
home  of  the  English  tutor  who  had  married  his  Royalist 
aunt  and  become  the  father  of  the  necessary  Royalist 


maiden.     It  was  a  case  of 


The  I'Jtamie  (preparing  for  his  centennial  transformation},  "PAEDON  ME,  SIB, 

BUT   COUI.D   YOC  OBLIGE  ME  WITH  A   LIGHT?  " 


your  honour  or  your  life."  Of 
course  he  chose  to  keep 
his  life,  and  went  off 
under  an  assumed  name 
to  unravel  the  plot  that 
was  bothering  NAPO- 
LEON. I  should  have 
done  the  same  in  his 
case.  Instinct  and 
novel  -  reading  experi- 
ence would  have  told 
me  how  charming  was 
my  cmigree  cousin ;  but 
j  once  I  had  proved  it  I 
!  should  have  dropped 
my  pinchbeck  mask  and 
lot  NAPOLEON  (on  the 
other  side  of  the  Chan- 
nel) go  hang.  But  this 
young  man  tried  to 
make  the  best  of  both 


stools,  and  fell  between  them.  Incidentally  he  concealed 
his  perfect  knowledge  of  English  from  his  bi4ingvml  relatives 
for  more  than  two  hundred  pages,  during  all  the  time,  in 
fact,  that  he  was  living  in  their  house.  I'm  afraid,  in  the 
language  of  the  Halls,  I  don't  think.  Apart  from  that,  I 
find  the  story  rather  too  obvious.  And  there  are  chap- 
ters, if  you  will  believe  me,  with  the  headings,  "The  Plot 
Thickens,"  and  "  The  Green-eyed  Monster."  But  people 
of  a  less  blasf,  condition  of  mind  than  myself  will  find  that 
the  book  is  pleasantly  written  and  not  unexciting. 

Suggestion  for  an  up-to-date  examination  paper  :— 

"Indicate  the  probable  course  of  English  History,  if  militant  suffrage 
methods  had  been  in  fashion  more  than  three  centuries  ago,  and 

1.  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  having  gono  on  hunger-strike,  had  been 
instantly  released  by  the  alarmed  Elizabeth. 

'i.  Through  the  destruction  of  the  turf  on  Plymouth  Hoe,  P/rako 
had  bsen  prevented  from  playing  his  historic  game  of  bowls. 

3.  Corrosive  acid  had  bo3n  poured  on  tho  letter  inviting  William  of 
Orange  to  England." 


"An  Athens  telegram  to-days  says  the  Crown  Prince  and  the 
Greek  Government  have  received  telegrams  of  congratulation  from 
all  the  sovereigns  andheads  of  States,  including  President  Poinucare, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  fall  of  Janina.  The  massage  from  Emperor 
William  is  stated  as  being  particularly  cordial." 

.    .       .  Manchester  Evening  Netcs. 

We  know  that  sort  of  massage— a  cordial  thump  between 
tho  shoulder-blades. 


MARCH  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


233 


CHARIVARIA. 

IT  has  been  laid  clown  in  court  that 
hecklers  may  not  be  ejected  from  meet- 
ings. "The  proper  caurse,"  said  the 
magistrate,  "  is  to  take  such  a  person's 
n;iino  and  address  and  apply  for  a 
summons."  Tho  process  seems  very 
swift  and  effective,  but  strikes  us  as 

rather  too  rough. 

*  * 

On  tho  occasion  of  the  bursting  of 
a  vat  of  porter  at  a  Cork  brewery,  one 
of  tho  workmen  had  to  swim  through 
tho  escaping  liquid  to  save  himself  from 
drowning  —  thus  in  all  proba- 
bility realising  tho  dream  of  a 
lifetime.  ...  * 

•I* 

Salmon  taken  from  tho  Tyne 
alleged  by  the  Conservancy 
Board  of  that,  river  to  taste  like 
tar  and  smell  like  petrol.    If  the 
I  ing  taxi-drivers  are  thinking 
of  giving  a  little  dinner  to  cele- 
brate their  recent  victory,  they 
•iced   look    no   further   for   the 
iish-course.      ^  % 

Tho  Boat  -  Race  is  ancient 
history  now,  but  it  will  never  be 
forgotten.  It  was  the  only  one 
of  the  series  which  a  daily  paper 
d'>  Bribed  as  "The  Struggle  of 
I  tho  Sixteen,"  instead  of  "  The 

J  in!  tie  of  tho  Blues." 

*  * 

We  live    quickly   nowadays. 

1  Twelve   hours   before   the   pro- 

;  duclion  of  nought  and  Paid  For, 

at  the  New  Theatre,  The  Daily 

Sketch,   unable    to    wait    any 

linger,  mentioned  what  a  great 

1  success  tho  opening  performance 

had  been.         ...  ... 

New  careers  seem  to  be  flung 
open  to   our   youngsters   daily. 
A  Barlesden  butcher's  shop  is 
exhibiting  the  notice,  "Wanted,  a  boy 
for  sausages."        ...  .... 

About  your  uninvited  guest  at  a 
party  there  is,  as  a  rule,  a  something 
unobtrusive,  something  perhaps  a  little 
furlivo.  He  is  content  to  slide  in  and 
remain,  like  some  violet  in  its  mossy 
bank,  gluad  to  the  refreshments  table. 
They  breed  stouter  hearts  in  Cardiff, 
where,  the  other  day,  a  citizen  not  only 
;it! ended  a  wedding-breakfast  without 
an  invitation,  but  rounded  off  his  day's 
pleasure  by  assaulting  the  host  with  a 


Life's    Little    Ironies.      Mr.    CYRIL 
MAUDE  had  to  pay  twopence  on  the 


"I  never  remember  one  day  what 
has  taken  place  the  clay  before,"  says 
an  eminent  magistrate.  Despite  this 
a-s',iranc3,  however,  his  clerk  intends 
to  take  no  risks,  and  will  laugh  as 

usual.  ^  + 

.  * 

A  good  deal  of  advertisement  is  being 
given  just  now  to  a  hen  in  Pennsylvania 
which  lays  rectangular  eggs,  thus  facili- 
tating enormously  tho  task  of  the 
packers.  It  is  a  kindly  thought,  but 
obviously  inspired  by  the  habits  of  the 
Dixie  hens,  who,  if  we  recall  the  song 
correctly,  lay  their  eggs  ready  scrambled. 


THE  AGE  OP  LUXURY. 

YOU  BUT  TOUR  COLLAB-STUD3  BY  THE  POUND  AND 
PICK  UP  THE  FALLEN  ONES. 


letter 
him. 


containing    the    threat    to   kill 


Precautions  are  being  taken  by  the  j 
Board  of  Agriculture   to  prevent   the 
introduction  of  the  potato  moth  from 
France.     Channel  steamers  are  being 
closely  watched.    ...  ... 

* ' 

After  twenty-three  years'  abssnce 
from  London,  a  returned  native  makes 
the  statement  that  all  young  men  in 
the  Metropolis  seem  to  him  to  be 
dressed  exactly  alike.  It  is  tactless 
speeches  of  this  kind  that  shake  the 
nut  to  his  kernel. 


A  severe  earthquake  was  recorded  by 
Mr.  J.  J.  SHAW  at  West  Bromwich,  at 
9  A.M.  on  the  llth  inst.  When  will 
tho  Militants  learn  that  these  tactics 
are  only  damaging  thoir  cause? 
•.'•  i  •'.•• 

The  March  of  Civilization.  Repre- 
sentative HAY,  of  Butler  County,  Mo., 
U.S.A.,  has  introduced  a  Bill  prohibit- 
ing women  from  wearing  dresses  that 
button  up  the  back. 

': 

Tho  writer  in  tha  evening  paper 
who  roferrod  to  The  Quintessence  of 
Ibscnism  as  "one  of  the  best  of  Mr. 
Shaw's  earlier  works,"  has  not 
yet  received  the  snub  which  wo 
had  anticipated  for  implying 
that  there  are  degrees  in 
perfection.  ...  .„ 
* 

Immediately  after  winning  an 
action  for  heavy  damages  on  the 
ground  that  a  taxi-cab  accident 
had  ruined  his  chances  in  the 
ring,  Mr.  HARRY  LEWIS,  the 
American  pugilist,  knocked  out 
JACK  HARRISON,  the  English 
middle-weight  champion,  in  less 
than  three  rounds.  Mr.  HARRI- 
soy  would  bo  well  advised  to 
wait  for  a  return  match  till  this 
mere  wreck  of  a  man  has  been 
run  over  by  one  or  two  motor- 
omnibuses.  <;  ... 

London  music-hall  managers, 
always  on  the  look-out  for  novel 
turns,  have  doubtless  already 
made  overtures  to  the  Turkish 
general  who,  after  the  surrender 
of  Janina,  "walked  slowly," 
according  to  a  daily  paper, 
"  with  his  head  bowed  to  the 
ground."  ...  ... 

•i: 

"  You  cannot  get  hold  of  a 
woman  by  the  scruff  of  the 
neck :  she  has  no  scruff,"  said 
Mr.  SYMMONS  of  the  Metropolitan  Bench 
in  court  recently.  Scruffs  for  Women ! 


"  At  the  Hackney  Horse  Show  Sir  Walter 
Gilbey's  Romping  Polly  won  second  prize  iu 
the  four-year-old  stallion  class,  and  second  in 
the  class  for  two-year-old  mares." 

Essex  Weekly  AVics. 

To  Sir  WALTER'S  disappointment,  how- 
ever, it  was  only  honourably  mentioned 
in  the  Jersey  Cow  section. 


"L.  G.  S. — For  tho  delicate  lingerie  blouse 
you  describe  we  think  that  you  will  find  tho 
Water  in  which  a  quantity  of  unsalted  rice  has 
boiled  quite  a  sufficient  stiffening,  and  better 
in  this  particular  case  than  tho  gum-water, 
by  interested  parties  where  his  wife  Wait  until  the  mixture  is  cold  before  adding 
was,  he  said,  "  I  lost  her  on  the  train."  ,  the  flavouring."— Guardian. 
To  the  absent-minded  the  luggage  rack, '  This  reminds  us  that  it  is  time  our 
for  all  its  convenience,  is  a  great  snare,  peppermint  bracss  were  renewed. 


Married  at  Doncaster  last  week,  a 
man  arrived  in  London  alone.     Asked 


234 


PUNCH,   OR  THE 


[MAECH  26,  1913. 


Yet 


LOVE    IN   ABSENCE. 

Tnoroii  much  I  love  you,  0  my  land  (Great  Britain), 
And  patriot  ardour  streams  through  all  my  pores, 
;t  there  are  moments  when  I  'm  badly  bitten 
With  a  desire  for  alien  shores. 

I  count  it  joy— so  dear  I  hold  your  welfare- 
Pure  joy  to  pay  my  taxes  ;  yet  at  times 
I  can  with  comfort,  for  a  little  spell,  faro 
To  rather  less  erratic  climes. 

Strangely  enough,  I  get  this  restless  feeling 

When  you  are  at  your  best  (so  poets  sing), 
When  squalls  of  rain,  in  fact,  and  blizzards  squealing 
Usher  the  amorous  prime  of  Spring. 

Therefore,  my  Country,  we  are  soon  to  sever; 
Leaving  this  heart  behind,  I  wing  my  way 
To  seaward  valleys  of  the  South,  or  ever 
This  lyric  sees  the  light  of  day. 

Yet  doubt  not,  as  I  pace  that  balmy  littoral, 

Home-airs  will  touch  me  by  the  ticleless  blue ;  ' 
My  soul,  a  sensitive  .ZEol'ian  zither,  '11 

Vibrate  with  kind  regards  to  you. 

Faith  in  your  glorious  future  (never  firmer), 

Faith  in  your  fixed  intent  to  rule  the  deep — 
Tin's,  and  the  silk-soft  Mediterranean  murmur, 
Shall  lull,  at  night,  to  dreamless  sleep. 

But,  if  the  local  perfume,  too  exotic,- 

By  day  should  drug  remembrance  (through  the  nose), 
Here  is  a  thought -to  cancel  that  narcotic, 
Playing  upon  me  like  a  h»se : — 

Though  we  be  worlds  apart  in  point  of  weather, 

There  is  but  one; sole  Golf — my  Country's  game! 
By  those  red  bills,  as  here  amid  the  heather, 
My  niblick  yet  must  guard  her  name  ! 

O.'S. 


ieur,  by  no  possibility  can  I  pursue  my  art  (or  call  it  a 
n-ofession  if  you  insist)  without  a  left  hand  as  well  as  a 
ight." 

I  fumbled  in  my  pocket  for  a  franc.     "  Tell  mo,"  I  said, 

what  was  the  profession  ?  " 

His  expressive  eyes  paid  no  heed  to  the  franc,  but  he  had 

een  it.     "Monsieur,"  ho  replied,  "I  perceive  that,  like  all 

your  countrymen,  you   aro   sympathetic.     Yes,  I  do   not 

»enerally  bare  my  soul  to  a  stranger,  but  I  have  confidence 

n  you." 

The  franc  changed  ownership.     He  sighed  deeply. 

"  The  unique  profession,"  ho  said,  "  the  only  profession 
n  the  world  which  requires  the  use  of  both  hands! 
ilonsieur,  I  was  a  loading  member  of  the  claque." 


'YES,  Monsieur, 


THE    HOOK. 

I   have  suffered 


a   great   misfortune 


When,  two  years  ago,  my  left  hand  was  cut  off  by  an 
automobile — 

"Two  years  ago?"     I  had  it  on  the  very  best  authority 
that  this  sturdy  rogue;  who'  presented  to  the  gaze  of  charit 
able  passers-by  an  ostentatious  steel  hook  in  place  of  his 
left  hand,  bad  been  begging  in  this  Parisian  suburb  fo 
something  like  a  quarter  cf  a  century.     His  "  misfortune ' 
was  indisputable,  but  it  had  happened  to  him  when  he  was 
a  child", "long  before  motops  .were  invented,  and  he'h'ad  livec 
on  it  ever  since. 

"Two  years  ago  to-day,'-he  assured  me.     His  eyes  me 
mine.     They  were  large  and  expressive.     "  To-day  is  th« 
anniversary.     That  is  why  I  am  so  sad.     Two  years  ag. 
to-day  I  was  finally  and  for  ever  deprived  of  my  livelihood. 
At  one  stroke,  in  a  fraction  of  a  second,  that  automobile 
ruined  a  great  artist." 

"  But  it  is  practicable  to  paint  with  one  hand." 

"  Ah,  one  could  paint  with  one's  toes.  Would  that  I  had 
been  merely  a  painter  or  an  author  or  a  composer !  Even 
had  I  been  a  musician  I  might  have  manipulated  the  handle 
of  an  organ  or  perhaps  learnt  the  triangle.  No,  Monsieur, 
my  art  was  different  from  these.  It  was  the  only  art  in 
the  world  which  requires  two  hands  !  " 

He  gesticulated  dramatically.  "  And  I  was  a  master  of 
my  art.  For  years  I  had  perfected  myself  patiently  in  its 
technique.  And  now,  behold  I  starve.  For  observe,  Mon- 


IN  FORMATION. 

Our.  conversation  had  turned  to  the  topic  of  gifts  for 
children,  and  I  gathered  from  a  remark  made  by  Eric  Baynell 
,hat  in  his  opinion  the  very  best  toy  for  a  boy  of  five  was 
lettrick  simile.  I  hesitated  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
confessed  quite  openly  that  I  did  not  know  what  a  lettrick 
sinnlo  was;  adding,  byway  of  excuse,  that  I  was  getting 
on  in  years  and  that,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  the  toy- 
ige;  was  a  thing  of  tho  distant  past. 

Eric  Baynell  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  views  of  my 
gnorance ;  he  looked  at  mo  with-  wide-open  eyes,  amazed 
and  even  pitiful.  Then  he  ran  upstairs  to  find  his  own 
lettrick  sinnle,  just  to  show  mo.  It  proved  to  be  a  really 
fascinating  toy:  when  you  pressed  the  button  tho  arm  fell, 
and  when  you  pulled  the  lever  it  rose  again,  as  often  as  not. 
It  was  as  nearly  like  a  railway  signal  worked  by  electricity 
as  a  toy  could  be. 

This  incident  gave  Eric  an  opening  which  he  could  not 
ignore,  and  my  education  began.  In  handing  me  his 
father's  box  he  told  mo  what  a  cigarette  exactly  was  and 
how  to  work  it.  He  felt  rather  sorry,  I  think,  for  this  poor 
fool  who  had  strayed  in  for  tea,  and  his  enthusiasm  for 
enlightening  the  ignoramus  knew  very  few  bounds. 

"  You  mustn't  put  it  in  your  pocket  'relse  it  11  get  all 
bendy.  You  put  ono  end  in  your  mouth — watch  Daddy, 
he  can  do  it ;  not  too  far  in — yes,  that 's  about  right.  Now 
you  put  a  blaze  at  the  other  end  and  tho  smoke  will  come 
and  it'll  keep  on  coming  and  coming  until  there's  only  a 
little  bit  of  sigga-ette  left,  and  you  must  throw  that  away." 

"Throw  it  away?     Why  be  so  wasteful?  "  I  asked. 

"But  you  mustl"  exclaimed  Eric  in  some  alarm.     "I 


you  don't,  the  burn  will  get  in  yoiu-  mouth." 

While  I  smoked  he  entertained  me  with  an  account  o 
his  visit  to  the  Zoo  on  the  previous  day.  He  explained  jusi 
what  the  Zoo  was,  and  gave  me  a  few  tips  about  the  girafft 
and'  his  appearance.  He  also  described  his  father's  lawn 
mower  and  roll-top  desk.  Then  his  eye,  wandering  rount 
for  something  else  to  tell  me  about,  fell  on  the  piano. 

"That's  the  piano,"  he  said.  I  indicated  my  astonish 
ment.  "  I  '11  show  you  how  it  works  if  you  like,"  he  said 
"  You  have  to  open  it  first.  Thank  you.  Then  you  pres 
these  white  things  with  your  fingers  until  the  music  come 
out.  That 's  how  it 's  done." 

"  And  the  black  things  ?     I  suppose  they  're  just  to  make 
a  bit  of  a  pattern,"  I  suggested.  i 

"  Oh,  no,  they  make  noises  too,  when  you  knock  them  ; 
but  the  black  music  isn't  very  nice,  I  think." 

"I  say,"  he  said  presently,  "wouldn't  you  like  to  coir.e 
upstairs  and  see  Baby  ?     He  's  very  interesting." 

"  Baby  's  asleep,  dear ;  better  choose  another  time,"  said 
his  mother. 

"  Well,  p'r'aps  we  had.      He  works  much  better  when 
he  's  awake,  you  know." 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MARCH   20,  1913. 


NO    EFFECTS. 


BALKAN  LEAGUER.  "  IT  'S    YOUR    MONEY    WE    WANT.' 
TURKEY.  "MONEY,    DEAR    BOY?     SEARCH    ME!" 


MAHCH  26,  1913.] 


rUNCII,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHAIUVALlf. 


237 


SHOW    SUNDAY. 

Old  Lady.  "AND  DOES  THE  PEESIDEXT  OP  inn  ROYAL  ACADEJIY  SET  YOU  THE  SUBJECTS  ?  " 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

END  OF  THE  LITTLE  SEASON. 

Park  Lane. 

DKAUKST  DAPHNE, — I  gave  a  little 
dinner  the  other  night  at  the  Kecherche 
t '•>[•  Twiiiinski,  whose  dancing  has  been 
iMsily  the  most  outstanding  feature  of 
the  Little  Season.  My  sweet  thing,  if 
you've  never  seen  his  performance  of 
••  L<t  Mutiiii''/'.  d'un  BtKtif,"  vou  've  never 
really  lived  !  It 's  not  exactly  what  ccs 
mires  call  dancing — chore-graphic  poem 
:.->  its  proper  name.  lie  weal's  an  ox's 
.-.kin  and  horns,  and  grazes,  and  finds 
a  red  handkerchief  in  the  field  and 
tosses  it,  and  gives  a  wonderful  bellow 
on  middle  C,  and  a  kick,  my  dear  child, 
that's  an  absolute  stroke  of  genius! 
A  grout  sob  of  joy  went  through  the 
•  when  that  kick  was  given. 

Off,  Twiiiinski  is  quite  charming, 
with  a  most  interesting  point  of  view, 
which  he  develops  in  broken  English 
and  chipped  French.  We  can  none  of 
us  quite  tell  what  colour  his  eyes  are. 
Balis  says  they're  brown,  /say  they're 
blue.  After  an  enormous  amount  of 
coaxing  we  got  him  to  give  some  lessons 


in  the  new  kind  of  dancing,  which , 
expresses  the  emotions  of  animals.  I 
learned  the  dearest,  little  dance,  "La 
Demi-hcurc  d'un  Agncau,"  in  which  I 
express  the  feelings  of  a  lamb  when  it 
first  sees  a  le.if  of  mint.  I  wear  the 
darlingest  white  fleecy  dress,  and  dear 
Twirlinski  says  my  performance  proves 
me  to  be  "Artiste  jiisqu'au  bout  dcs 
onyles  ! "  Babs  and  some  others  also 
learned  of  him  and,  when  wo  were 
pretty  perfect,  of  course  we  began  to 
look  about  for  a  chanty.  When  one 's 
taken  up  something  new  and  looks 
specially  charming  doing  it,  always  the 
next  move  is  to  find  a  charity  that 
wants  help !  But  all  the  charities  were 
bagged,  I  found.  Each  one  I  thought 
of,  I  heard  that  some  wretches  were 
giving  a  kick-up  of  some  kind  in  aid  of 
it.  At  last  I  'd  an  inspiration :  the 
street-kerb  sellers  —  those  wonderful 
creatures  one  glimpses  as  one  drives 
through' the  poky  parts  of  town,  stand- 
ing'in  rows  on  the  kerb  with  trays  full 
of  songs  and  toys  and  things  hanging 
round  their  necks — what  do  they  do 
when  they  can't  do  it  any  longer  ?  And 
there  was  my  charity  1  The  Superan- 


nuated Street-Kerb  Sellers !  I  simply 
longed  to  help  them !  We  would  hire 
a  theatre — or  some  dear  manager  would 
lend  us  one — and  give  our  dance-poems. 
I  threw  myself  into  it  with  all  my 
extraordinary  energy.  I  was  to  do  my 
"  Demi-heure  d'un  Aijiicaa;  "  Babs  was 
to  give  "  The  Sad  Chrysalis  and  the 
Joyous  Butterfly  "  (she 's  all  swathed 
up  in  brown  gauze  as  the  Sad  Chrysalis, 
and,  in  strictest,  strictest  confidence, 
my  dear,  there 's  a  good  deal  more  of 
the  Sad  Chrysalis  than  the  Joyous 
Butterfly  about  the  whole  perform- 
ance!); several  others  were  going  to 
help ;  and  dear  Twirlinski  himself  had 
promised  to  appear.  Just  as  every- 
thing was  getting  into  train  Beryl 
Clarges  came  rushing  round  one  day 
and  said,  "  What 's  this  I  hear  about 
your  giving  a  performance  for  the  Super- 
annuated Street-Kerb  Sellers  ?  They  're 
mine,  Blanche  1  I  discovered  them  1 
It 's  my  charity !  And  I  'm  going  to 
give  my  Miracle  play,  'The  Seven 
Deadly  Sins,'  in  aid  of  it.  So  you  see, 
dearest,  it's  Hands  Offl"  Well,  we 
said  a  few  little  things  to  each  other, 
and  then  a  few  more  little  things.  And 


238 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAKCH  26,  1913. 


it  ended  by  both  our  schemes  falling 
through.  Beryl  Clarges,  my  Daphne, 
is  an  absolutely  perfect  specimen  of  the 
felis  domestica  without  the  domestica  ! 

The  rage  for  collecting  old  door- 
handles has  cooled  off  a  bit,  and  people 
are  rushing  after  old  extinguishers  and 
snuffers.  Fallalerie  of  Bond  Street  has 
a  simply  dilly  show  of  them  at  his 
gallery,  and  one 's  been  meeting  every- 
body there  of  an  afternoon.  Private 
collectors,  too,  have  been  immensely 
busy.  At  Ninny  ffollyot's  Eleven 
O'clock  the  other  night  (he 
sent  out  pink  and  silver 
cards  with  the  usual  form 
of  invitation,  and  down  in 
the  left-hand  corner  "  Ex- 
tingriishers  and  Snuffers ") 
he  showed  us  his  latest 
treasure — 'the  pair  of  snuffers 
with  which  CHARLEMAGNE 
snuffed  his  candle  when  writ- 
ing his  History  of  flic  Franks ! 
Isn't  that  nice?  Just  as  we 
were  preparing  to  go  into 
fits  over  the  funny  old  things 
Bunny  Trevor  broke  out 
with,  "How  d'you — why 
d'  you — what  d'  you  mean  ? 
CHARLEMAGNE'S  Snuffers-! 
Those  are  the  very  things 
I  've  just  added  to  my  collec- 
tion !  It 's  to  show  those 
that  I  've  asked  a  lot  of 
people  to  my  Three  O'clock 
to-morrow ! " 

Ninny  turned  very  pale 
and  Bunny  got  very  hot,  and 
they  glared  at  each  other  as 
only  two  rival  collectors  can 
glare.  "  You  with  the  snuffers 
CHARLEMAGNE  snuffed  his 
candle  with  when  he  was 
writing  his  History  of  the 
Franks!"  cried  Ninny.  "I 
won't  believe  it !  Mine 's  the 
only  pair  extant.  You  've ! 


dear  Professor.  "It's  not  a  thing  to  over."  "Oh  no,  nothing  of  the  kind!  " 
worry  about.  CHARLEMAGNE  used  no  said  Vivienne.  "  But  he  goes  so  well 
snuffers  but  his  own  fingers,  and  he  |  with  a  brightly  coloured  get-up  that 


never  wrote  a  History  of  the  Franks, 
because  Ire  couldn't  write." 

Colours  are  so  positively  riotous  just 
now  that  some  people  have  to  put  on 
smoked-glasses  to  look  at  their  friends. 
With  these  deafening  shades  a  loud 
voice  and  rather  aggressive  manner  are 
worn,  and  plenty  of  slang  may  be  used. 


I  can't  do  without  him  just  now.     In- 
deed, I  'm  trying  to  get  the  case  put 
back  till  quieter  shades  are  worn  !  " 
Ever  thine,        BLANCHE. 

DRAMATIC  NEWS. 
ENCOURAGED  by  the  example  of  the 


"Giucious,  CHILD! 
WET?" 


been   done  !  "     "  Shut  up !  " 

screamed  Bunny.    "It's  you  wnoNGWAY. 

that  s  been  done.     "  Mine 's  ' 


the  genuine  pair!  "  We  had  to  pre-jthe  moment,  and  fair  men  with  healthy 
vent  them  from  flying  at  each  other ;  I  complexions  are  quite,  quite  out ! 
and  then  Professor  Dimsdale,  who  'd  j  Everybody  was  delighted  (or  disap- 
been  examining  Ninny's  collection  of :  pointed  as  the  case  might  be)  to  see 
extinguishers  and  snuffers  with  rather  the  Exshires  together  at  the  jumping 
a  sniffy  air,  said  in  his  quiet  way,  at  Sandown  Park  one  day,  Vivienne 
"What's  the  subject  of  dispute?  "  i  looking  sweet  in  a  little  grass-green 
"  That  !"  gasped  Ninny,  pointing  at  I  velvet  coat  with  gold  buttons,  a  bright 
his  beloved  little  lump  of  rust  lying  on  red  skirt,  one  red  and  one  green  boot, 

and    an    orange    velvet    cap    with    a 
tall   upstanding   blue  plume.      People 


a  velvet  cushion ;  "  the  snuffers  CHARLE- 
MAGNE snuffed  his  candle  with  when  he 


A  dark  pale  man  is  the  correct  accom-  j  Baron  HENRI  DE  ROTHSCHILD,  who  has 
paniment  to  the  bright-hued  costumes  of  recently  written  a  drama  named  Crcesus, 

quite  a  number  of  eminent 
publicists  are  engaged  on 
classical  and  historical 
dramas,  in  which  the  auto- 
biographical note  is  agree- 
ably sounded. 

Perhaps  the  most  inter- 
esting of  these  ventures  is 
the  five-Act  drama,  Clean,  on 
which  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE 
has  been  engaged  for  some 
time  past.  Holding  with 
some  high  modern  authorities 
that  THUCYDIDES'  portrait  of 
the  Paphlagonian  tanner  was 
distorted  by  party  prejudice, 
it  has  been  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE'S  aim  to  present 
this  great  democratic  patriot 
in  his  true  colours,  viz.,  as 
a  generous  and  warm-hearted 
humanitarian  who  was  al- 
ways ready  to  take  up  the 
cudgels  for  the  masses  against 
the  tyrannous  exactions  of 
the  robber  oligarchs. 

Mr.  WINSTON   CHURCHILL 
is     collaborating    with    the 
Baron  DE  FOREST  in  a  fan- 
tastic opera  entitled  Proteus, 
in   which  the  name  part  is 
sustained  by   a  chameleonic 
hero,     whoso     kaleidoscopic 
opportunism  is  crowned  with 
success,  to  the  complete  dis- 
comfiture of  the  representa- 
tives of  an  effete  and  Pro- 
crustean consistency. 
Mr.  ASQUITH  has  just  completed  the 
scenario   of   a   classical  morality  play 
entitled    Orpheus.      According    to    his 
version   of    the   legend,   which   differs 
slightly  from  that  given  by  LEMPRIERE, 
Eurydice,  resenting  her  husband's  re- 
fusal to  allow  her  to  play  duets  with 
him  in  public,  throws  in  her  lot  with 
a  gang  of  wild  Thracian  women,  known 
as  the  n<iyxvi>cni8(s,  who  ultimately  tear 
the  unfortunate  minstrel  in  pieces  to 


WHAT  HAVE  YOU   BEEN  DOING  TO  GET  so 


I    STOPPED    THE    TAP    THE 


was  writing  his  History  of  the  Franks—  hoped  (or  feared)  that  things  had  been  !  slow  music. 

and  he  says  he 's  got  some,  too ! "   "  And  straightened  out,  and  a  certain  case  was  |      Mr.  J.  A.  PEASE'S  contribution  differs 
so  I  have !  "  shouted   Bunny.     "  I  've  j  not  to  come  on  after  all.     Norty  said  from  those  of  his  colleagues  in  being 
«•  j     •         snutters    CHARLEMAGNE  ;  something  to  Lord  Exshire  about  being  modern  in  title  and  treatment,  and  is 
snufled  his  candle  with  when  he  was ;  pleased  to  sec-ibem  there  together,  and  a  frankly  humorous  extravaganza  en- 

nrifiti'n**     l-»  *  n       I      ,  ~  t  „  ,.,   .     ~  £    J  1.  -      T7T. .  ....  7.  _  TT  •         '  •  1  ,          TI  •'. 


writing  his  'History  of  the  Franks.    His  :  so   on;    but   E.  answered,  "We   ain't 
are  a  fraud!"     " Tut,  tut !  'i  said   the [ reconciled.       Things    ain't    smoothed 


titled  Where  Ignorance  -is  Bliss;   or, 
liunciman  and  Dunciman. 


MARCH  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


239 


Youngest  DaujMer  of  Celebrated  Scientist  (wJto  is  lecturing  at  Hie  Institute  on  tfo  following  dat/).  "On,  DADDT  DEAB,  I  7>o  FEEL 

80   NKItVOUS  ABOUT  VOUB  LECTURE.      OUB  THIBD-FOBJt  MISTBE8S  IS  GOIKd  TO  HEAtt  YOU,   AND  SHE '8  SO  AWFULLY  CBITICAL 1  " 


SAYINGS  OP  THE  WEEK. 

THE  obiter  dicta  of  great  men  having 
been  exhausted  by  repeated  citation  in 
the  daily  press,  it  has  been  found  desir- 
able in  the  interests  of  the  public  to 
replace  them  by  the  utterances  of  their 
subordinates,  retainers  or  tradesmen. 
A  few  recent  specimens  of  these  are 
here-appended : — 

It  is  harder  to  make  a  cat  laugh 
than  a  policeman. — The  Clerk  in  Mr. 
Court. 


Hardly  any  public  man  will  dare  to 
tell  the  truth  on  any  subject  whatever. 
Personally ,  I  have  no  shame  in  confessing 
that  I  don't  know'who  BEAUMAHCHAIS 
was,  and  that  I  prefer  a  musical 
comedy  to  my  master's  plays. — Mr. 
i:i:nNAHD  SHAW'S  Chauffeur. 

There  is  more  character  in  a  man's 
instep  than  in  his  features.  Let  others 
paint  portraits  of  the  great  so  long 
as  I  am  allowed  to  shoe  them. — Mr. 
WINSTON  CHURCHILL'S  Bootmaker. 

Judging  from  my  experience,  I  should 

3  inclined  to  say  that  the  strain  on  a 

writer  who  is  obliged  to  say  something 


really  pontifical  once  every  twenty-four 
hours  is  beyond  remuneration. — Mr. 
FILSON  YOUNG'S  Private  Secretary. 

There  is  nothing  so  cheap  as  paradox. 
— Mr.  G.  K.  CHESTERTON'S  Valet. 

Until  tho  English  people  themselves 
want  knowledge  their  education  will 
always  be  imperfect,  and  they  must  be 
content  in  large  parts  of  their  life  to  be 
at  the  mercy  of  munificent  Scotsmen. 
Mr.  CARNEGIE'S  Head  Gardener. 

I  would  rather  see  Mr.  BALFOUK  win 
a  game  of  lawn  tennis  than  hear  Lord 
CBEWE  make  a  speech  in  the  House  of 
Lords. — Lord  HOSEBERT'S  Fourth  Foot- 
man. 

There  is  something  very  attractive 
to  me  in  the  saying  attributed  to  a 
genial  Irishman:  "I've  a  great  dale 
too  much  regard  for  the  truth  to  be 
dhraggin'  her  out  on  anny  palthry 
occasion." — Mr.  USE'S  Haircutter. 

I  admit  that  it  would  be  a  compliment 
to  my  master  if  they  were  to  print  his 
letters  to  The  Times  in  largo  type; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  by  printing 
them  in  small  type  they  are  able  to  find 


more  room  for  him.  So  that  what  is 
apparently  an  act  of  disparagement  is 
in  reality  an  act  of  courtesy  in  disguise. 
Anyhow,  when  they  do  give  him  big 
type,  I  shall  ask  for  a  rise  in  my  wages. 
—Sir  HENRY  HOWORTH'S  Butler. 


THE  LASS  I  LOVE. 

THE  lass  I  love,  O  red  'B  her  cheek, 
Her  eyes  are  bits  o'  heaven ; 

The  reason  isn't  hard  to  seek — 
Her  mother 's  out  of  Devon  I 

The  lass  I  love,  her  plaits  are  black, 
Her  tongue  is  soft  and  merry — 

Her  grandad  got  his  pedlar's  pack 
Among  the  hills  o'  Kerry  1 

The  lass  I  love  has  thrift  for  three, 
For  'twas  her  mother's  granny 

That  loved  a  sailor  from  Dundee, 
Where  all  the  folk  are  cannie  I 

Now  naught  o"  hers  I  "ve  found  to  link 
Wi'  the  land  of  leek  and  daffy, 

And  yet  she 's  thieved  my  heart  (I  "11 

think), 
So  there 's  your  touch  o'  Taffy  I 


240 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAKL 


[MARCH  26,  1913. 


A   TRAGEDY    IN    LITTLE. 

THE  great  question  of  the  day  is, 
What  will  become  of  Sidney  ?  .When- 
ever I  think  of  him  now,  the  unhidden 
tear  wells  into  my  eye  .  .  .  and  wells 
down  my  cheek  .  .  .  and  wells  on  to 
my  collar.  My  friends  think  I  have  a 
cold,  and  offer  me  lozenges ;  but  it  is 
Sidney  who  makes  me  weep.  I  fear 
that  I  am  about  to  lose  him. 

He  came  into  my  life  in  the  following 
way. 

Some  months  ago  I  wanted  to  buy 
some  silk  stockings ;  not  for  myself,  for 
I  seltlom  wear  them,  but  for  a  sister. 
The  idea  came  suddenly  to  me  that 
any  woman  with  a  brother  and  a  birth- 
day would  simply  love  the  one  to  give 
her  silk  stockings  for  the  other.  But  of 
course  they  would'  have  to  be  the  right 
silk  stockings — the  fashionable  shape 
for  the  year,  the  correct  assortment  of 
clocks,  and  so  forth.  Then  as  to 
material — could  I  be  sure  I  was  getting 
silk,  and  not  silketto  or  something  in- 
ferior? How  maddening  if,  seeing  that 
I  was  an  unprotected  man,  they  palmed 
off  Jaeger  on  me !  'Clearly  this  was  a 
case  for  outside  assistance.  So  I  called 
in  Celia. 

"  This,"  I  said  to  her,  "  is  practically 
the  only  subject  on  which  I  am  not  an 
expert.  At  the  same  time  I  have  a 
distinct  feeling  for  silk  stockings.  If 
you  can  hurry  me  past  all  the  embar- 
rassing counters  safely,  and  arrange  for 
the  lady  behind  .the  right  one  to  show 
me  the  right  line  in  silken  hose,  I  will 
undertake  to  pick  out  half-a-dozen  pairs 
that  would  melt  any  sister's  heart." 

Well,  the  affair  went  off  perfectly. 
Celia  took  the  matter  into  her  own 
hands  and  behaved  just  as  if  I  were 
buying  them  for  her.  The  shop- 
assistant  also  behaved  as  if  I  were. 
Fortmately  I  kept  my  head  when  it 
came  to  giving  the  name  and  address. 
"  No,"  I  said  firmly  to  Celia.  "  Not 
yours;  my  sister's."  And  I  dragged 
her  away  to  tea.  -  . 

Now  whether  it  wag  because  Celia 
had  particularly  enjoyed  her  afternoon ; 
or  because  she  felt  that  a  man  who  was 
as  ignorant  as  I  about  silk  stockings 
must  lead  a  very  lonely  life ;  or  because 
I  had  mentioned  casually  and  errone- 
ously that  it  was  my  own  birthday 
that  week,  I  cannot  say ;  but  on  the 
following  morning  I  received  a  little 
box,  with  a  note  on  the  outside  which 
said  in  her  handwriting,  "  Something 
for  you.  Be  kind  to  him."  And  I 
opened  it  and  found  Sidney. 

He  was  a  Japanese  dwarf-tree — the 
merest  boy.  At  eighty  or  ninety, 
according  to  the  photographs,  lie  would 
be  a  stalwart  fellow  with  thick  bark  on 
his  trunk,  and  fir-cones  or  acorns  (or 


whatever  was  his  speciality)  hanging 
all  over  him.  Just  at  present  he  was 
barely  ten.  I  had  only  eighty  years  to 
wait  before  he  ro.iched  his  prime. 

Naturally  I  decided  to  lavish  all 
my  care  upon  his  upbringing.  I 
would  water  him  after  breakfast  every 
morning,  and  (when  I  remembered  it) 
at  night.  If  there  was  any  top-dressing 
he  particularly  fancied  he  should  have  it. 
If  he  had  any  dead  leaves  to  snip  off,  I 
would  snip  them. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  I  dis- 
covered something  else  in  the  box — a 
card  of  instructions.  I  have  not  got  it 
now,  and  I  have  forgotten  the  actual 
wording,  but  the  spirit  of  it  was  this  : 

HINTS  ON  THE  PROPER  BEARING  AND 

BRINGING-UP  OP  A  JAPANESE 

DWARF-TREE. 

The  life  of  this  tree  is  a  precarious 
one,  and  if  it  is  to  be  successfully 
brought  to  manhood  the  following  rules 
must  be  carefully  observed — 

I.  This  tree  requires,  above  all  else, 
fresh  air  and  exercise. 

II.  Whenever  the  sun  is  shining,  the 
tree  should    be   placed   outside,   in   a 
position  where  it  can  absorb  the  rays. 

III.  Whenever  the  rain  is  raining, 
it  should  be  placed  outside,  in  a  position 
where  it  can  absorb  the  wet. 

IV.  It  should  be  taken  out  for  a  trot 
at  least  once  every  day. 

V.  It  simply  loathes  artificial  light 
and  artificial  heat.     If  you  keep  it  in 
your    drawing-room,    see    that    it    is 
situated  as. far  as  possible  from   the 
chandelier  and  the  gas-stove. 

"VI.  It  also  detests  noise.  Do  not 
place  it  on  the  top  of  the  pianola. 

VII.  It  loves  moonlight.      Leave  it 
outside  when  you  go  to  bed,  in  case  the 
moon  should  come  out. 

VIII.  On  the   other  hand  it  hates 
lightning.       Cover    it  up     with    the 
canary's     cloth     when  the    lightning 
begins. 

IX.  If  it  shows  signs  of  drooping,  a 
course  of  massage  will  generally  bring 
it  round. 

X.  But  in  no  case  offer  it  buns. 

Well,  I  read  these  instructions  care- 
fully, and  saw  at  once  that  I  should 
have  to  hand  over  the  business  of  rear- 
ing Sidney  to  another.  I  have  my 
living  to  earn  the  same  as  anybody 
else,  and  I  should  never  get  any  work 
done  at  all  if  I  had  constantly  to  be 
rushing  home  from  the  office  on  the 
plea  that  it  was  time  for  Master 
Sidney's  sun-bath. 

So  I  called  up  my  housekeeper,  and 
placed  the  matter  before  her. 

I  said :  "  Let  me  introduce  you  to 
Sidney.  He  is  very  dear  to  me;  dearer 
to  me  than  a — a  brother.  No,  on 
second  thoughts  my  brother  is  perhaps 


— well,  anyhow,  Sidney  is  very  dear 
to  me.  I  will  show  my  trust  in  you 
by  asking  you  to  tend  him  for  me. 
Here  are  a  few  notes  about  his  health. 
Frankly  he  is  delicate.  But  the  doctors 
have  hope.  With  care,  they  think,  he 
may  live  to  be  a  hundred-and-fifty.  His 
future  is  in  your  hands." 

My  housckeaper  thanked  me  for 
this  mark  of  esteem  and  took  the  card 
of  instructions  away  with  her.  I  asked 
her  for  it  a  week  afterwards  and  it 
appeared  that,  having  committed  the 
rules  to  memory,  she  had  lost  it.  But 
that  she  follows  the  instructions  I  have 
no  doubt;  and  certainly  sho  and  Sidney 
understand  each  other's  ways  exactly. 
Automatically  she  gives  him  his  bath, 
his  massage,  his  run  in  the  Park. 
When  it  rains  or  snows  or  shines,  she 
knows  exactly  what  to  do  with  Sidney. 

But  as  a  consequence  I  see  little  of 
him.  I  suppose  it  must  always  be  so; 
we  parents  must  make  these  sacrifices 
for  our  children.  Think  of  a  mother, 
only  seeing  her  eldest-born  for  fifteen 
weeks  a  year  through  the  long  period 
of  his  schooling;  and  think  of  me, 
doomed  to  catch  only  the  most  casual 
glimpses  of  Sidney  until  ho  is  ninety. 

For,  you  know,  I  might  almost  say 
that  I  never  see  him  at  all  now.  As 
I  go  to  my  work  I  may,  if  I  am 
lucky,  get  a  fleeting  glance  of  him  on 
the  tiles,  where  he  sits  drinking  in 
the  rain  or  sun.  In  the  evening,  when 
I  return,  he  is  either  out  in  the  moon- 
light or,  if  indoors,  shunning  the 
artificial  light  with  the  cloth  over  his 
head.  Indeed,  the  only  times  when  I 
really  see  him  to  talk  to  are  when  Celia 
comes  to  tea  with  me.  Then  my  house- 
keeper hurries  him  in  from  his  walk  or 
his  sun-bath,  and  puts  him,  brushed 
and  manicured,  on  my  desk  ;  and  Celia 
and  I  whisper  fond  nothings  to  him.  I 
believe  Celia  thinks  he  lives  there! 

As  I  began  by  saying,  I  weep  for 
Sidney's  approaching  end.  For  my 
housekeeper  leaves  this  week.  A  new 
one  takes  her  place.  How  will  she 
treat  my  poor  Sidney  ?  The  old  card 
of  instructions  is  lost ;  what  can  I  give 
her  in  its  place?  The  legend  that 
Sidney's  is  a  precious  life — that  he 
must  have  his  morning  bath,  his  run, 
his  glass  of  hot  water  after  meals  ? 
She  would  laugh  at  it.  Besides,  sho 
may  not  bo  at  all  the  sort  of  foster-, 
mother  for  a  Japanese  dwarf-tree.  .  . 

It  will  break  rej  heart  if  Sidney  dies 
now,  for  I  had  so  looked  forward  to 
celebrating  his  ninetieth  birthday  with 
him.  It  will  hurt  Celia,  too.  But 
her  grief,  of  course,  will  be  an  inferior 
affair.  In  fact,  a  couple  of  pairs  of 
silk  stockings  will  help  her  to  forget 
him  altogether.  A.  A.  M. 


MARCH  2G,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


241 


til]        '•       '      '  '  "fflta,- 

^     • 


Cashier  (to  lady  cashing  cinque  for  £15).  "How  WILL  YOU  HAVE  IT,  MADAM,  GOLD  OB  SOTES?" 
Lady.  "OH,  ALL  GOLD,  PLEASE,  IF  YOU'VE  GOT  IT." 


SOLILOQUY    OF    A    LEADER. 

ANOTHER  deputation  ?  Gracious  Powers, 

I  have  seen  fifty  thousand,  all  alike, 

But  all  desiring  different  policies, 

And  every  man  of  them  convinced  that  he, 

And  he  alone,  could  save  the  tottering  Stato. 

Oh,  in  this  shattering  of  ancient  things, 

This  giddy  whirlpool  of  abandoned  vows, 

Where  pledges,  watchwords,  weathercocks  and  flags 

Are  mixed  and  turned  and  sucked  beneath  and  tossed, 

A  dizzy  mockery  for  gods  and  men, 

How  shall  another  deputation  help  ? 

No,  I  '11  not  see  them.     Say  that  they  shall  have 

A  letter  firmly  stating  this  and  that, 

And  nailing  many  things  to  various  masts, 

So  they  depart  and  give  mo  leave  to  think. 

That  Grecian  grey-beard  reasoned  well  who  sa\v 

The  world  an  everlasting  flux  of  change; 

lie  must  have  known  the  party-leader's  game, 

His  Kdinburghs  and  Ashtons-under-Lyne, 

And  all  the  myriad  shuffles  that  ensued 

In  that  wild  hunt,  that  anxious  cheating  quest 

For  terra  firma  mid  the  shifting  sands, 

Where  one  cried,  "  I  have  found  it,"  and  at  once, 

Drawn  madly  down,  he  plunged  and  disappeared  ; 

And  one,  "  We  arc  united,"  and  a  wave 

Broke  in  his  mouth,  and  he  and  all  his  friends 

In  one  wet  ruin  went  the  quicksand  way  ; 

And  1  myself  was  tossed,  but  here  I  am 

Much  torn  and  shaken,  but  at  least  alive. 


"  Shuffle,"  says  one  profuse  paragraphed 

"  With  such  a  skilful  and  a  graceful  step, 

That  when  the  dance  is  over  you  may  leave 

A  sense  of  inspiration  and  resolve 

To  animate  the  Party."     This  I  schemed 

And  but  for  those  who  foiled  me  might  have  gained. 

CHAPLIN,  that  orotund  and  massive  man, 

First  put  a  spoke  into  my  whirling  wheel. 

Then  AUSTEN  spoke  and  spokod  me  even  more, 

And  WYNDHAM  pirouetted  with  his  spoke, 

And  all  was  fierce  confusion  once  again. 

With  Colonel  WESTON,  from  the  Kendal  moors, 

Stirring  the  witches'  broth  until  it  boiled. 

Oh  whoals  and  witches'  broth  and  metaphors 

Mixed  and  compounded  like  our  party-cries, 

What  boots  it  to  unmix  you,  or  to  be 

A  Party-Leader  whom  no  soul  obeys  ? 

"My  tooth  were  chattering  as  with  a  fever-chill  when  they  all 
tumbled  out.  My  tone  must  have  told  them  something  of  my  horror, 
for  they  voiced  in  chorus  the  cry  :  •  What's  happened?  '  In  my  be- 
dazcd  condition  I  could  not  Ull  them.  .  .  .  Tho  words  I  did  speak 
were  without  meaning  to  the  others."—  The  Story-Teler. 
A  very  nasty  accident  to  happen.  No  wonder  he  couldn't 
speak  distinctly. 

"  Two  policemen  saw  three  suspicious  characters  dragging  a  heavy 
sack,  which  they  dropped  on  the  approach  of  tho  officers  and  made 
off.  They  emptied  it  of  its  contents,  a  number  of  stolen  copper 
fittings,  and  one  of  the  policemen  then  got  into  the  tack,  while  his 
comrades  hid  near  by." — Daily  Mail. 

And  the  fact  that  the  eack  was  still  full  of  copper  completely 
deceived  the  thieves.  ! 


242 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  26,  1913. 


EASTER    MAISKEUVRES. 

Medical  Officer.  "WHAT  DID  YOU  DO  FIRST  OF  ALL?"  A-nibulance.  Man.  "GAVE  fm  SOME  BRANDT,  Sir..' 

Medical  Officer.  "QUITE  BIGHT;   BUT  WHAT  WOULD  YOU  HAVE  DONE  IP  YOU  HADN'T  HAD  ANY  BRANDY?" 
Ambulance  Man  (promptly).  "PROMISED  'IM  SOME!" 


THE   SILENT  TEAR. 

THEY  had  always  imagined  their 
undo  to  be  a  very  poor  man.  He 
lived  in  a  little  house  and  spent  no 
more  upon  himself  than  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  keep  in  existence  the  part- 
nership between  his  soul  and  his  body. 

When  the  news  of  his  illness  reached 
his  three  nephews  they  behaved  each 
after  his  own  manner. 

George,  the  eldest  one,  who  was 
possessed  of  a  genuine  sympathy  and 
affection  for  the  old  man",  wired  in- 
structions to  a^noted  specialist  to  pro- 
ceed at  once  to  his  uncle's  bedside. 
Having  purchased  a  stock  of  delicacies 
and  nutritive  jellies  and  wines  he  drove 
round  with  them  personally,  to  ensure 
that  they  should  arrive  in  time.  For 
many  years  past  he  had  sent  him 
presents  of  little  luxuries.  This  he  had 
done  anonymously,  out  of  respect  for 
the  proper  pride  of  his  poor  relative. 
When  he  reached  the  house  he  was 
relieved  to  find  that  the  doctor  had  not 
mentioned  his  name. 

William,  the  second  nephew,  hastened 
to  his  uncle  at  once.  He,  too,  had 
rendered  many  little  kindnesses  to  the 
old  man.  These  had  been  inspired  not 
by  any  charitable  motive,  but  by  a 
firm  belief  that  even  the  bin-ill  amount 


which  his  uncle  could  bequeath  to  him 
would  be  more  useful  in  the  future 
than  nothing  at  all.  When  he  arrived 
in  the  sick-room  ho  sobbed  loudly  be- 
hind his  handkerchief  and  reminded  the 
suffering  man  of  the  many  benefits  lie 
had  received  from  his  (William's)  hands. 

Peter,  the  youngest  nephew,  looked 
on  the  whole. business  as  a  confounded 
nuisance.  His  uncle  had  beon  no  ex- 
ception to  his  general  rule  of  loving 
himself  only,  and  he  regarded  sick-bed 
scsnes,  off  the  stage,  as  being  intoler- 
ably boring  affairs.  However,  as  he 
happened  to  be  passing  the  house  on 
his  way  to  the  station,  he  decided  to 
look  in  for  a  minute  or  two. 

The  uncle  recovered  and,  but  for  his 
being  knocked  over  by  a  taxi  shortly 
afterwards,  might  have  lived  for  many 
years. 

After  his  death  it  was  discovered  that 
he  had  been  in  reality  an  extremely 
wealthy  man.  By  his  last  will  and 
testament  he  left  every  penny  of  his 
fortune  to  his  nephew  Peter. 

George  was  grieved,  not  because  he 
desired  the  money,  but  because  he  would 
have  valued  some  small  recognition  of 
the  affection  he  had  always  felt  for  the 
dead  man. 

William  was  furiously  angry.  He 
rega-ded  the  money  and  time  which 


ho  had  expended  on  the  old  gentleman 
as  a  good  investment  gone  wrong.  He 
turned  savagely  to  Peter  and  said, 
"  What  have  you  done  to  deserve  this? 
George  and  1  have  shown  nothing  but 
kindness  to  our  uncle,  while  you  have 
neglected  him  utterly  and  have  lived 
your  own  selfish  life.  Why  should  you 
fawn  upon  him  during  that  illness  and 
persuade  him  to  make  a  new  will  in 
your  favour  ?  " 

"  As  to  that,"  replied  Peter,  "  George 
was  kind  to  him  because  it  gratified 
his  generous  nature ;  you  were  kind  to 
him  because  it  gratified  your  greedy 
instincts;  and 'I  was  selfish  because  it 
gratified  my  selfishness.  As  to  fawning 
on  him,  I  can  assure  you  that  I  didn't 
do  anything  of  the  sort.  Why  he 
should  leave  me  all  his  wealth  is  a 
complete  mystery  to  me." 

"What  did  you 'say  to  him?''  de- 
manded William  sc3plically. 

"  Say  ?  I  was  in  too  much  pain  to 
say  anything.  I  'd  got  a  bit  of  grit  in 
my  eye  as  I  opened  his  door.  I  just 
shook  his  hand,  said  I  was  awfully 
sorry  to  hear  he  was  seedy,  and  rushed 
off,  half-blind  with  the  beastly  thing, 
to  the  chemist's  round  the  corner." 

Then  the  three  brothers  sought  to 
discover  an  appropriate  moral  for  this 
little  story.  But  they  failed. 


TUNCn,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MARCH  26,  1913. 


THE    FUTURIST. 


Mn.  BONAR  LAW.  -FOR    THIS    YEAR'S    EXHIBITION?" 
MK.  BONAK  LAV.:  "  WELL,    SO    FAR— IN    MY    HTIMRF  F 
THING    YOU'VE    DONE." 


ME.  ABQUITH.  "NO,    NEXT  " 
-IT'S    AS   GOOD  AS   ANY- 


MARCH  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


245 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  J-T.O.M  THE  DIAIIY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  March 
17. — Rarely,  if  ever,  has  the  hollowness 
of  Party  pretension  to  purity  of  pro- 
cedure been  more  cynically  admitted 
than  to-night.  Exhibition  made  com- 
plete by  unveiling  not  of  one  side  but 
both.  Business  of  sitting  was  to  allot 
remainder  of  Session  up  to  close  of 
financial  year,  which  happens  a  fort- 
night to-day.  PREMIER  moved  reso- 
lution appropriating  whole  time  for 
Government  business,  an  arrangement 
involving  some  inversion  of  practice 
dealing  with  Consolidated  Fund  Bill. 

Opposition  bursting  with  patriotic 
indignation.  Here  was  another  proof 
of  the  inherent  iniquity  of  the  Govern- 
ment. As  COUSIN  HUGH  put  it,  "  They 
have  reached  that  stage  in  vice  when 
vice  is  loved  for  its  own  sake."  BONNEH 
IJAW,  amid  loud  cheers  from  the  Oppo- 
sition, saw  in  the  procedure  a  fresh  step 
in  that  degradation  of  Parliament  going 
on  ever  since  a  Liberal  Ministry,  fatal 
fruit  of  successive  General  Elections, 
came  into  power. 

As  for  BANBUBY,  nothing  less  than 
an  Amendment  would  soothe  his  per- 
turbed feelings.  He  accordingly  moved 
"That  this  House  declines  to  sanction 
any  proposal  further  arbitrarily  to 


HOW  TO  "BRIGHTEN"  THE  HOUSE. 

curtail  discussion  of  Supply  and  of  the 
various  stages  of  the  Consolidated  Fund 
Bill  as  a  violation  of  the  Constitutional 
rights  of  the  House." 

Thus  was  battle  set  in  array.  So 
strong  the  righteous  anger  of  Oppo- 
sition it  seemed  possible  that  in  its 
flaming  fire,  its  unquenchable  zeal,  it 
would  eat  up  the  Government,  majority 
and  all. 

Before  ten  minutes  had  sped,  lo! 
a  strange  thing  happened.  PREMIER 
admitted  that  course  he  invited  House 
to  adopt  was  at  variance  with  custom. 
But  there  was  a  precedent  for  it.  In 
1905,  when  PRINCE  ARTHUR  was 
Premier  and  right  honourable  gentle- 
men on  Front  Bench  opposite  were  his 
colleagues,  precisely  the  same  thing  was 
done.  Having  demonstrated  in  detail 
strictness  of  analogy  he  came  to  crown- 
ing turn  of  comedy. 

"  The  Resolution,"  he  said,  "  was 
very  strongly  opposed  by  the  Oppo- 
sition of  the  day.  I  do  not  think  any 
one  spoke  more  strongly  against  it 
than  I  did  myself." 

"  With  his  usual  adroitness,"  as 
BONNER  LAW  ruefully  confessed, 
PREMIEH  had  by  this  admission  ta'cen 
the  wind  out  of  the  sails  of  the 


enemy's  barque.  Hunting  up  Hansard 
for  report  of  what  took  place  this  time 
eight  years  ago,  BONNEK  had  gleefully 
jotted  down  passages  from  ASQUITH'S 
speech  in  which  he  denounced  PRINCE 
ARTHUR'S  resolution  as  "  marking  the 
degradation  of  the  House  of  Commons 
.  .  .  transforming  it  into  a  mere 
automatic  machine  registering  the  will 
of  the  executive." 

Had  meant  when  PREMIER  sat  down 
to  rise  and  confound  him  with  reha- 
bilitation of  these  vituperative  ghosts. 
Effect  marred  by  PREMIER'S  admission. 
Nevertheless  something  to  have  the 
authorised  text  recited.  Read  it 
accordingly.  Speaker  being  ASQUITH 
it  followed  as  matter  of  course  that  no 
living  man  could  more  forcibly  denounce 
the  course  that  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S 
successor  to  the  Premiership  was  to- 
day recommending.  As  for  BAHBURY'S 
Amendment  it  turned  out  that  it  was 
"  conveyed  "  from  JOHN  REDMOND,  who 
moved  it  on  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S  Resolu- 
tion of  March,  1905. 

That  nothing  should  be  wanting  to 
perfection  of  the  farce,  JOHN  DILLON 
got  up  and  announced  that  "  the  Irish 
Nationalist  Party  will  support  the 
PREMIER'S  motion  with  the  iirin  con- 


246 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  -LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  26,  1913. 


viction  that  by  doing  so  there  is 
nothing  inconsistent  with  their  honour- 
able record  as  defenders  of  free  speech." 

In  the  end,  the  proposal  submitted 
by  PRINCE  ARTHUR  eight  years  ago  and 
then  hotly  denounced  by  Liberal  Oppo- 
sition and  Irish  Nationalists  was  by 
their  combined  forces  carried  by  227 
against  120,  what  time  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S 
men,  now  in  opposition,  wept  scalding 
tears  of  shame  and  indignation  at  this 
criminal  tampering  with  constitutional 
custom. 

What  a  world  this  is! 

Business  done.— Government  appro- 
priate all  time  of  House  to  31st  instant 
inclusive. 

Thursday.— When  CHARLES  LAMB 
was  at  the  India  Office  he  was  noted, 
among  other  things,  for  irregularity  in 
the  hour  of  arrival  at  his  desk  in  the 
morning.  A  man  of  high  principle, 
sterling  honesty,  he,  as  ho  once  ex- 
plained, made  up  for  coming  late  by 
going  away  early.  To-day  House  on 
verge  of  Easter  holiday  varies  the 
procedure.  It  came  early  (8PKAKKB 
took  the  Chair  at  11  A.M.)  and  it  got 
away  early,  adjournment  taking  place 
on  stroke  of  five  o'clock. 

Arrangement  avowedly  made  to  give 
Members  residing  in  distant  parts  of 
the  country  opportunity  of  reaching 
their  homes  before ;  holiday  is  quite 
over.  In  some  cases  this  end  may  not 
be  achieved  without  difficulty.  Easter 
recess  this  year  is  more  conveniently 
calculated  by  hours  than  by  days. 
SPEAKER  rising  at  five  o'clock  this 
afternoon  will  resume  the  Chair  on 
Monday  at  2.45  r.M.  Irony  of  situation 
sharpened  by  consideration  of  fact  that 
this  so-called  recess  includes  customary 
Saturday  half-holiday,  to  say  nothing 
of  Sunday. 

House  of  Lords  manages  things 
differently.  When,  as  has  happened 
since  Session  opened,  they  have  no  work 
to  do  they  don't  potter  around  making 
believe  to  be  busy.  They  just  shut  up 
shop  and  go  off  to  enjoy  life.  Yet  call 
of  duty,  when  sounded,  finds  them 
ready,  aye  ready  I 

Sounded  once  this  week  with  remark- 
able result.  When  they  last  met  they 
formally  adjourned  till  28th  inst. 
Probably  not  one  in  ten  thousand  Men 
in  the  Street  knows  that  they  actually 
held  a  sitting  this  week.  Nevertheless 
they  did,  and  a  rare  sight  was  presented 
to  those  in  secret  of  intention. 

Occasion  arose  upon  necessity  for 
reading  a  second  time  a  batch  of 
private  Bills.  There  were  fifty-four  in 
all,  involving  great  public  interests  and 
millions  of  money.  On  the  Woolsack, 
unrobed  and  not  bewigged,  sat  Lord 
ATKINSON,  whose  mordant  wit  de- 
lighted the  House  of  Commons  whilst 


he  was  yet  with  us,  whoso  gaiety  has 
for  years  been  eclipsed  by  the  sombre 
shadow  of  the  Upper  Chamber.  In 
the  Commons  the  quorum  necessary  for 
discharge  of  public  business  numbers 
forty.  In  the  Lords  comparative  level 
of  quality  runs  so  high  that  three 
Members  suffice.  And  here  they  were 
all  in  a  row — Lord  MOULTON  and  Lord 
SHAW,  whose  memories  are  kept  green 
in  the  Commons  ;  Lord  DONOUGHMOUK, 
Chairman  of  Committees  in  succession 
to  the  lamented  Lord  ONSLOW,  fitly 
completing  the  necessary  trio.  With 
duo  formality  the  Clerk  -at  Table  read 
in  succession  titles  of  the  Bills.  Lord 
ATKINSON,  with  automatic  regularity 
and  precision,  put  the  question  :  "That 
this  Bill  be  read  a  second  time.  Those 
that  are  of  that  opinion  say,  '  Content,' 
the  contrary,  '  Not  content ' ;  the  '  Con- 
tents '  have  it." 

Next,  please,  Mr.  Clerk  at-  the  Table. 
When  the  fifty-fourth  Bill  was  reached 
and  passed  Lord  -ATKINSON  remarked, 
"  The  House  will  now  adjourn,"  and 
the  four  Peers  Walked  forth,  not  a  smile 
on  their  noble  countenances. 

It  was  magnificent;  also,  as  will  be 
seen,  it  was  business. 

Business  done. — Commons  adjourn 
for  Easter  recess. 


LOOKING    FOEWABD. 

IN  the  not  too  distant  future  a  day 
came  when  all  the  jokes  gave  out.  It 
had  been  threatening  for  a  long  while 
and  at  last  it  came.  The  whole  stock 
was  absolutely  exhausted  ;  no  one  was 
left  who  could  make  a  new  joke ;  no  one 
was  left,  who  did  not  know  the  old  ones. 
The  result  was  that  the  people,  forced 
upon  seriousness,  grew  so  critical  of 
affairs  and  so  vigilant  as  to  their  rights 
and  wrongs  that  the  statesmen  laid 
their  heads  together  to  see  what  could 
be  done  to  restore  the  semi-obscurity 
in  which  it  suited  them  best  to  operate. 

"  Could  we  not  import  some  foreign 
jokes?"  one  grey -beard  inquired;  but 
there  were  two  objections  to  that,  one 
fiscal  and  the  other  that  foreign  jokes 
always  threw  up  half  their  fun  during 
the  crossing. 

"No,"  said  the  Prime  Minister  at 
last,  "  what  we  must  do  is  this :  we 
must  arrange  -to  segregate  a  number  of 
babies  every  year  and  bring  them  up 
in  such  seclusion  that  no  kind  of  a  joke 
can  ever  get  to  them,  and  then,  when 
the  time  is  ripe  for  them  to  enter  the 
world,  they  will  constitute  a  body  of 
responsible  adult  persons  to  whom  the 
story  of  the  curate's  egg,  the  brick  under 
the  hat,  and  the  riddle  about  the  chicken 
crossing  the  road  are  absolutely  new. 
Thus  shall  England  be  herself  again." 

Arid  it  fell  out  exactly  as  he  said. 


ADJUSTMENTS. 

I  WISH  I  could  make  up  my  mind 
before  leaving  London  just  how  long  I 
want  to  stay.  I  never  can.  That  is 
the  weak  spot  of  this  coupon  system. 
It 's  a  fine  comprehensive  system  in  its 
way,  I  don't  deny.  One  starts  upon 
the  campaign  armed  at  every  point, 
relieved  in  advance  of  all  harassing 
problems  of  barter  and  exchange.  At 
its  best  it  can  cover  a  sleigh -drive  or  a 
cup  of  coffee  in  a  station  restaurant, 
though  for  my  own  part,  until  one  can 
get  coupons  for  drinks,  for  the  purchase 
of  blotting-paper  and  wax  matches,  and 
for  having  one's  hair  cut,  I  cannot  con- 
sider it  to  be  wholly  adequate.  And 
tipping  by  coupon  is  not  practised  yet 
to  any  great  extent.  But  the  trouble 
is  that  no  reasonable  person  ever  knows 
how  long  he  wants  to  stay  in  Switzer- 
land, and  whenever  he  adds  on  another 
week  he  is  almost  certain  to  have  to 
move  out  of  his  room.  For  these  little 
instruments  irrevocably  fix  your  exits 
and  your  entrances,  and  while  you 
have  been  enjoying  its  hospitality  your 
room  has  been  booked  by  someone  else 
— ia  an  office  in  London — who  arrives 
one  fine  day  to  drive  you  out,  at  the 
point  of  the  coupon,  so  to  speak. 

It  is  just  this  necessity  of  moving 
from  one  room  to  another  that  makes 
my  life  a  burden  in  the  Alps.  You  see 
there  is  a  good  deal  to  be  done  before  I 
can  get  my  room  adjusted  to  my  re- 
quirements, and  I  simply  hate  to  leave 
it  when  I  have  got  it  right.  Much  as 
one  regrets  the  use  of  underhand 
methods,  most  of  these  adjustments 
have  to  be  carried  out  by  stealth,  for 
lack  of  coupons  to  cover  one's  minor 
necessities.  And  I  never  like  to  give 
the  servants  extra  trouble  when  they 
are  so  busy. 

In  the  first  place,  I  always  have  to 
have  an  additional  table.  This  is 
generally  obtained  under  cover  of  dark- 
ness from  an  empty  room  on  a  different 
floor.  Of  course  one  must  expect  re- 
prisals, and  for  this  reason  it  is  well 
either  (1)  to  secure  the  second  table  by 
padlock  and  chain  to  the  leg  of  the  bed 
or  (2)  to  disguise  it  effectively.  Then 
fiere  is  the  case  of  the  bath -towel, 
which  can  be  obtained  without  any 
difficulty  by  the  simple  expedient  of 
taking  a  hot  tub.  But  it  must  be  kept 
under  lock  and  key.  Ink  will  be  found 
in  the  salon,  which  is  generally  un- 
occupied during  the  dinner  hour, 
was  once  held  up  by  the  concierge  as  I 
conveyed  it  up  in  the  lift.  But  know- 
ing as  I  did  that  ink  is  an  awkward 
thing  to  snatch  at,  if  it  comes  to  a 
scuffle,  I  made  no  reply  whatever  to  his 
protests.  (And  here  I  would  remark 
that  it  is  of  no  small  advantage  in  tho 


MAKCII  2(5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil   TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


217 


game  to  maintain  an  unimpaired  ignor 
of  the  language.) 

By  this  timo  we  arc  getting  on,  am 
may  turn  our  attention  to  alteration? 
inside  tho  room  itself.  The  furniture 
will  have  to  he  shifted  round,  so  that  il 
is  possible  (on  really  cold  days)  to  sil 
on  the  radiator  with  one's  feet  on  the  em 
of  the  sofa.  Then  comes  the  questior 
of  the  electric  light.  The  Swiss  electric 
light  has  one  pleasant  peculiarity.  II 
goes  on  all  tho  time,  and  it  is  nol 
etiquette  to  turn  it  off,  except  on  really 
brilliant  days.  But  that  does  not  com- 
pensate one  for  the  miserable  quality 
of  the  illumination  of  the  bedrooms 
Your  first  business  is  to  make  a  carefu! 
and  detailed  inspection  of  tho  public 
rooms.  You  may  find  it  disheartening 
In  many  of  them  tho  lights  will  be 
either  quite  out  of  reach  or  protected  by 
massive  cut-glass  globes  which  make  it 
impossible  to  get  at  them.  But  at  last 
if  yen  persevere,  it  is  probable  that  in 
some  secluded  little  writing-room  01 
corner  of  the  lounge  you  will  come 
upon  an  unprotected  bulb  of  great 
])(>\\<T  and  brilliancy  that  is  within 
icach.  It  remains  to  effect  an  ex- 
change. This  is  not  always  so  easy  as 
it  Inoks,  for  you  must  choose  your 
moment,  and  if  you  wander  about 
waiting  for  your  chance,  with  the  bulb 
from  the  bedroom  up  your  sleeve,  you 
are  leaving  the  bedroom  itself  defence- 
less. If  it  is  discovered  to  be  in  the 
dark  suspicions  will  be  aroused.  After 
some  years  of  experience,  I  find  myself 
that  the  best  plan  is  to  have  a  bulb  in 
hand.  This  is  simply  annexed,  at  the 
outset,  from  the  far  end  of  a  remote 
passage.  You  keep  it  waiting  in  your 
pocket — though  you  have  to  bo  careful 
if  you  are  out  ski-ing — till  your  oppor- 
tunity conies.  Then  you  silently  and 
swiftly  substitute  it  for  the  one  you 
have  marked  down.  When  you  have 
in  turn  transferred  that  one  to  your 
bedroom,  you  will  still  have  an  extra 
bulb  in  hand,  which  can  be  used  in 
the  same  way  when  you  have  to  move 
your  room.  You  take  your  light  along 
with  you. 

Believe  me,  there  is  no  room  that 
can  he  made  more  comfortable  than  the 
average  room  in  a  Swiss  hotel.  But  it 
does  take  a  little  care.  I  have  been 
fortunate  this  year  in  sticking  to  Num- 
ber 34  from  the  day  when  I  first  arrived 
many  weeks  ago,  and  as  I  have  been 
in  a  particularly  acquisitive  mood  I  am 
hound  to  say,  on  looking  round,  that  I 
have  a  lot  of  nice  stuff  about  me.  I 
fancy  there  will  be  a  great  scene  on  the 
day  after  my  departure,  when  it  comes 
to  the  sacking  of  Number  34. 

NEW  NAME  von  KEXDAL:  Weston- 
Buper-Somervell. 


Anttvuj- 
'ERE  WE  ABE,  BILL!    LET'S  'AVE  'AnF-AX-noun's  LUX  I 


IT'S  AN  ILL  WIND- 


Now  that  the  prolonged  taxi  strike  is 
practically  over,  it  may  ba  interesting  to 
give  one  or  two  facts  which  it  has  sug- 
gested to  a  correspondent's  imagination. 
This  correspondent,  we  understand, 
is  the  person  who  first  communicated 
to  the  newspapers  the  exact  dimensions 
ihat  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  would  have  to 
3fe  enlarged  to  in  order  that  its  dome 
might  accommodate  the  moon,  and  the 
value  of  anything  he  writes  will  there- 
*oro  be  appreciated  by  our  readers. 

Thecommissionairesandhotelporters 

of    London   (he   says)   have   a   vastly 

ncreased  chest  measurement  per  man 

as  a  result  of  the  prolonged  blowing  of 

whistles  during  tho  strike.    The  average 

enlargement  is  4'227  inches,  or  in  the 

iggregate  a  distance  which,  if  traversed 

n  a  taxi,  would  cost  the  hirer  Is.  4d'., 

exclusive  of  extras. 

The  restf ulness  and  quiet  of  the  Em- 
wnkment  during  the  past  few  weeks 


have  produced  a  remarkable  effect  upon 
the  men  whose  daily  task  it  is  to 
control  the  barges  that  pass  up  and 
down  the  river.  Several  of  them  have 
become  poets  (an  increase,  to  be  exact, 
of  99-168  per  cent,  upon  the  total 
available  figures  for  the  past  twenty- 
five  years),  and  quite  early  in  the  strike 
one  of  them  was  heard  by  a  member  of 
the  National  Liberal  Club  to  remark  to 
his  mate,  "What  a  charming  morning!" 
which  shows  a  clear  advance  upon  the 
customary  vocabulary  of  these  humble 
workers. 


"Lost,  from  near  Dunstan  Station,  57  Lin- 
coln Hogs;  red  ochre  on  side,  blue  dot  on 
head." — Lincolnshire  Eclto. 

Careless,  careless ! 


'  This  morning,  tho  Danish  cruiser  Ingolf 
arrived  at  Dartmouth  for  blinker  supplies." 
Devon  Express. 

We  should  have  guessed  at  once  what 
it  wanted. 


248 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAECH  2G,  1913. 


r  :F~^tei- 


A  LONDON  STREET  SCENE  WHEK  TIIE  FREAK  ADVEETISIXG:  JIOIOB  GETS  HEALLY  GOING. 


THE  VERY  MODERN  TRAVELLER. 

[A  nightmare  of  the  near  future,  suggested  possibly  by  witnessing 
'  The  African  LTunt  "  on  the  Holboru  Bioscope.] 

You  want  to  witness  the  deeds  I  did 

In  the  far-off  Afric  jungle 
With  the  late  lamented  Dr.  Kidd? 

It  was  not  by  a  careless  bungle 
That  I  came  alone  from  the  vasty  veld 

After  a  long  fight  stern  and  bloody, 
Alone,  with  the  films  tucked  under  my  belt 
And  the  monstrous  spoil  of  a  tawny  pelt 

That  lies  to-day,  in  my  Tooting  study. 

Turn  on  the  moving  pictures  then. 

(They  are  turned  on.) 

There  is  your  humble  servant 
Starting  forth  for  the  lion's  den 

When  the  tropical  dawn  was  fervent ; 
Notice  the  way  I  pound  the  grass, 

No  one  could  possibly  call  me  "  Slow  Toes," 
Hot  on  the  trail,  with  the  sun  like  brass. 
And  what  about  Dr.  Kidd  ?     You  ass, 

The  Doctor  was  taking  these  beautiful  photos. 

Now  we  have  readied  the  fateful  spot 

By  the  shores  of  the  Jubbjub  Eiver ; 
I  raise  my  rifle,  prepared  to  pot 

(Observe  how  the  poppadums  quiver). 
Now  is  the  lion  leaving  his  lair ; 

Notice  the  way,  at  this  ticklish  juncture. 
The  wind  of  the  desert  is  ruffling  his  hair — • 
But  what  is  the  dot  that  appears  just  there  ? 

I  have  fired,  of  course.     Tis  the  bullet's  puncture, 

Still  he  comes  with  increased  chagrin  ; 

Once  more  I  have  raised  my  rifle, 
When  the  Doctor  shouts,  "  What  a  splendid  scene  1 

Just  stop  where  you  are  a  trifle." 
Staunchly  I  answer,  "  Eight,  old  pal ;  " 

I  think  of  the  white  cliff  walls  at  Dover ; 
I  care  not  a  jot  for  the  animal ; 
Yon  have  never  seen,  but  to-day  you  shall, 

A  lion  knocking  an  Englishman  over. 

Helpless  I  lie.     The  monstrous  cat 
Grins  wide  ;  when,  lo  !   he  -has  spotted 

A  movement  of  Dr.  Kidd's.     My  hat ! 
He  knows  he  has  been  snapshotted ! 


Straight  for  the  camera  mark  him  swerve.-1 
(The  films  just  here  are  extremely  vivid), 
Till  Dr.  Kidd  has  a  lapse  of  nerve- 
He  bunks  from  his  post.     You  will  now  observe 

A  bioscope  artist  being  chivied. 

« 
For  I  have  sprung  to  the  gaping  breach, 

I  have  seized  the  camera's  shutter ; 
Notice  the  lion's  stupendous  reach, 

Long  odds  for  a  sporting  flutter. 
Diddled  him.     Dodged  again.     Encoro. 

Collared.  '  I  know  I  had  spotted  the  winner. 
Dr.  Kidd  is,  alas,  no  more. 
And  now  for  our  Series  No.  4, 

Ihefelis  Ico  enjoying  his  dinner. 

(The  pictures  cntl.) 
A  lion  gorged  is  an  easy  prey, 

The  rest  was  a  simple  matter. 
I  crawled  and  potted  him  there  as  he  lay 

Torpid  and  slightly  fatter ; 
I  skinned  his  carcase  and  homeward  won, 

And  although  the  papers  have  passed  sorno 
strictures 

I  rest  content  with  my  duty  done, 

Eor  I  know  I  have  taken  the  best,  bar  none. 
Of  the  earth's  kinematographic  pictures.       EVOE. 


ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 

THE  CHEQUE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  wealthy  philanthropist 
who  went  about  offering  strangers  a  bearer-cheque  for  £100. 
And  first  he  spread  it  out  before  the  eyes  of  a  small  child, 
who,  after  looking  at  it  for  a  moment,  said,  "  Please  give 
me  a  penny ;  "  and  then  he  approached  a  serious  young 
man,  who  thanked  him  excessively,  but  declined  on  the 
ground  that  he  wanted  to  conquer  the  world  unassisted 
and  alone.  And  then  there  came  along  towards  him  a  man 
in  the  middling  years  of  life,  to  whom  was  the  bearer-cheque 
for  £100  likewise  tendered;  and,  looking  at  it  with  a  merry 
suspicious  eye,  the  man  in  the  middling  years  of  life  said, 
"Ah,  yes,  I  know  those  haves,"  and  passed  on  his  way  with 
a  jaunty  assurance.  And  then  the  philanthropist  held  it 
out  to  an  old,  old  man,  who  snatched  it  with  .fervour. 


"Within  the  past  three  clays  300  waiters  have  joined  their  section 
of  the  union  and  500  corks  have  joined  theirs." — Daily  News. 

It  will  be  a  dramatic  moment  when  the  500  corks  come  out 
together. 


MAI-.CH  2r>,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


243 


BURGLARY    UP-TO-DATE. 


THE  CLUB. 


THE  PRESSED  CRITIQUE. 

(Show  Sunday.) 

I  KNOW  very  little  about  Art  and 
almost  nothing  about  the  more  terrible 
modern  complications  of  the  malady, 
hut  the  other  day  William  insisted  on 
•  Inlying  me  off  to  see  the  work  of 
some  pointer  whom  he  professes  to 
admire.  Striking  the  towing-path  at 
Westminster,  we  worked  our  way  up- 
stre.ira  to  the  pretty  riparian  purlieu 
where  the  man  resides  and  entered  his 
studio,  which  ought  to  have  been  served 
1'V  a  lift,  and  which  struck  me  as  being 
singularly  ill-furnished  for  the  reception 
if  guests.  I  carefully  leaned  my  um- 
irella  against  the  wall  and  it  gave  a 
ittle  sigh  and  tumbled  down.  I  then 
ook  oft'  my  hat  and  coat  and  placed 
liem  in  a  dark  corner  on  what  appeared 
o  be  a  small  table  with  a  very  pleasingly 
latterned  mosaic- work  top. 

I  was  thereupon  led  to  the  centre  of 
lie  room,  where  the  artist,  who  did  not 
-com  to  have  changed  the  upper  part 
'1  liis  boating  costume,  eyed  mo  for 
jiome  moments  so  searchingly  that  I  felt 
Convinced  he  could  see  the  return  half 
pf  the  ticket  to  Askalon  which  I  had  in 


my  right-hand  waistcoat-pocket.  After 
this,  and  quite  without  provocation  on 
my  part,  he  suddenly  switched  round 
the  rack.  I  have  called  it  a  rack,  but 
I  believe  the  proper  trade  term  for  it  is 
an  easel ;  anyhow,  it  had  fixed  upon  it 
an  object  which  I  could  see  at  the  first 
glance  was  not  only  highly  and  freshly 
coloured,  but  also  done  entirely  by 
hand. 

1  waited.  Nobody  seemed  to  be 
going  to  do  anything  about  it,  and  it 
was  evident  that  I  was  expected  to 
speak.  Obviously,  if  I  betrayed  signs 
of  consternation  or  sympathy  the  man 
would  be  annoyed ;  a  too  enthusiastic 
admiration,  on  the  other  hand,  might 
cause  mo  to  be  suspected  of  insincerity, 
which  I  hate.  The  best  course  appeared 
to  be  a  kind  of  jocular  and  polite  com- 
mendation, uttered  in  such  a  voice  as  to 
suggest  a  considerable  intensity  of  con- 
cealed emotion.  "  That 's  capital,"  I 
said;  "capital."  (As  a  matter  of  fact 
I  really  thought  it  would  have  been — 
under  a  more  enlightened  code  of  laws.) 
After  that  I  paused.  It  did  not  seem 
to  be  fair  that  I  should  have  to  do  all 
the  work,  out  of  training  as  I  was  and 
tired  with  my  long  walk;  but  no  one 


answered  my  gambit,  and  William 
looked  at  me  so  sternly  that  I  knew 
I  should  have  to  speak  again. 

In  the  old  and  happier  days  it  was 
always  possible  to  recognise  with  a  start 
of  pleasure  some  faint  likeness  between 
any  specimen  of  plastic  art  and  the 
object  it  was  intended  to  represent. 
Nowadays,  of  course,  no  more  humili- 
ating taunt  could  be  levelled  at  a 
conscientious  artist,  and  I  was  not 
going  to  give  myself  away  like  that. 
So  I  pointed  at  last  to  what  looked 
like  a  copper  coal-scuttle  in  the  midst 
of  the  purple  foliage  at  the  extreme  left- 
hand  bottom  corner  of  the  canvas,  and 
said  doggedly,  "  Especially  just  here. 
Hot  stuff  that." 

There  was  alongpause.  Then  William, 
who  was  holding  up  one  fist  in  front  of 
his  face  as  if  he  thought  the  pictuio 
was  going  to  give  him  a  nasty  jab  in 
the  jaw,  suddenly  began  to  talk.  He 
said  a  good  deal  about  the  relativity  of 
values,  about  keys  and  compositions, 
about  bravura  and  pianissimo  (1  am  not 
absolutely  sure  of  his  exact  words,  but  I 
think  I  have  them  correct),  about  the 
interdependence  of  homogeneity,  about 
the  essence,  rag-time,  the  siimmitm 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON_CHARIVAgL 


[MAHCH  26,  1913. 


tonum  and  the  Pragmatic  sanction,  and 
vound  up  liis  harangue  by  placing  Ins 
land  over  the  coal-scuttlo  (my  coal- 
8cuttle)and  saying,"  Excellent,  excellent 
-except  for  that— I  do  think  you 
ought  to  cut  that  out." 

Not  a  little  chagrined  I  moved  away. 
\s  I  cast  my  eyes  round  the  studio 
they  suddenly  fell  on  a  little  picture  in 
t  rather  obscure  place,  a  picture  that 
looked  easy,  a  still-life  study  of  a  blue 
vase  with  some  sunflowers  in  it. 
Coming  back  to  the  artist,  I  called  his 
attention  to  the  thing.  "  I  say,  I  do 
like  that,"  I  said,  and  I  did.  "  That  1 
ho  answered,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
and  turning  back  to  William,—"  That ! 
Oh,  that  was  left  here  by  the  chap  who 
bad  the  studio  before  me.  I  think  he 
must  have  forgotten  to  put  the  text  in." 

It  wa?  then  that  I  suddenly  re- 
membered my  important  engagement 
in  the  extreme  North-east  of  London. 
I  said  "Good-bye"  hurriedly  and 
grovelled  on  the  floor  for  my  umbrella. 
Then  I  went  to  the  dark  corner  and 
retrieved  my.  hat  and  my  overcoat.  As 
I  looked  at  the  latter,  -whilst  going 
downstairs,  I  felt  suddenly  indignant. 
Whatever  may  be  the  value  of  his 
•work,  an  artist  has  surely  no  right  to 
leave  unfinished  masterpieces  lying 
about  face  upwards  on  tables  withoul 
so  much  as  a  "  Wet  Paint "  notice  on 
them  to  warn  one.  It  simply  ruins  a 
fellow's  clothes. 

THE  YEAE. 

DOLBY  came  into  the  smoke-room  anc 
coughed  in  an  important  way.  One  or 
two  lucky  men  near  the  door  stole  out 
The  previous  night  Dolby  had  taken  up 
and  pulverised  the  proposal  that  loca 
rates  should  be  a  charge  on  ground 
rents.  Dolby  had  demonstrated  eon 
clusively,  in  a  speech  of  three-quarters 
of-an-hour's  duration,  that  his  rates 
£38  14s.  Gd.,  could  not  be  paid  out  o 
his  ground-rent,  £22  10s.  Od.,  Q.  E.  D. 
but  the  other  users  of  the  smoke-roor. 
thought  it  might  have  been  demon 
strated  more  quickly. 

"  We  are  bought  and  sold,"  bega 
Dolby  solemnly.  "  For  eighteenpenc 
any  member  of  this  Cabinet  would  se' 
his  country!" 

"  I  shouldn't  think  of  offerin 
EDWAKD  GRKY  more  than  one-am 
three  mysolf,"  said  Bailey. 

"  The  signs  of  the  times  are 
ominous,"  continued  Dolby,  declinin 
to  be  drawn  into  a  discussion  of  th 
relative  values  of  Ministers.  "I  ai 
looking  forward  to  1926." 

"  Do  you  think  we  shall  have  som 
decent  weather  then  ?  "  enquired  Sellan 

"It  is  the  Danger  Year.  Then  w 
shall  have  only  fifty-four  Dreadnoug hts 


onimny  will  have  forty-six  Is  a 
mjority  of  eight  suflicient?  I  put  it 
o  you  as  reasonable  men :  what  shall 
•e  do  then  ?  " 

-  Dredge  the  North  Sea,"  suggested 
Jailey.     "  It '11  need  it  badly." 

"Hang  it,   old  man,"   said   Austin 
who  was' in  the  sanguine  mood  induced 
Y  backing  two  winners,  "  won't  the 
joloniesbuckupandhelpus?    They  re 

ood  stuff." 

"  Let  us  suppose  that  Canada  gives 

s  six,  Australia  four,  and  New  Zealand 

nd   South  Africa  two  each— well,  it 

oesn't  save   the   situation,   for   it  is 

bvious  to  every  thinking  man  that  the 

Dreadnoughts     belonging    to     Spam, 

Turkey,    Chili,   and   probably    China, 

might   be    placed  at   the  disposal   of 

Germany." 

"  The  llepublic  of  Liberia  will  back 
us  anyhow,"  said  the  invincible  optimist, 
Bailey. 

If  he  hoped  that  Dolby  would  prove 
hat  Liberia  had  no  Dreadnoughts  he 
vas  sadly  disappointed.  Fixing  him 
with  his  eye,  Dolby  said,^  "  Now  we 
come  to  armoured  cruisers." 

"  I  haul  down  my  flag,"  cried  Bailey ; 
I  give  in  to  the  Teutons ;  but  don't  let 
the  armoured  cruisers  open  upon  me." 
"We  shall  only  have  a  majority  of 
six  to  four  in  them,"  proceeded  the 
merciless  Dolby.  "As  thinking  men, 
what  do  you  make  of  that?  What 
does  BERESFOED  say  ?  " 

He  said  everybody  else  was  all 
wrong.  He  might  even  say  you  were 
wrong,  Dolby,"  replied  Sellars. 

"Now  in  the  matter  of  torpedo- 
destroyers —  what  is  the  margin  o: 
safety  there?  I  appeal  to  you  as  an 
Englishman,  Charters." 

"  I  'm  not  an  Englishman.  I  'm  a 
Welsh  stamp-licker." 

"  Turning  again  to  submarines,"  con 
tinued  Dolby,  "  we  are  utterly  behind 
And  hydroplanes — we  have  six  to  defenc 
this  Empire.    Who  dares  say  that  sir 
are  adequate  ?  " 

No  one  dared  say  anything.  A  fain 
hope  spread  through  the  room  tha 
Dolby  had  finished  with  the  Navy. 

Dolby  looked  round  the  room  trium 
phantly.  "  Now  I  '11  recapitulate  mj 
arguments  to  show  that  1926  is  th 
critical  year." 

Charters  nobly  threw  himself  int 
the  breach  and  faced  the  foe. 

"  I  'm  looking  forward  to  1950,"  h 
said  calmly. 

"  You  think  that  by  then  we  '11  b 
able  to  avenge  the  defeat  of  1926  ?  " 
"  That  wasn't  exactly  in  my  mind." 
"Then  why  1950?     I  do  not  gras 
your  point." 

"  Because  with  any  luck  you  '11  be 
dead  then,  Dolby." 

Dolby   spends   his  evenings   in  the 


illiard-room  now.  He  says  that  serious 
iscussion  is  impossible  in  the  smoko- 
oom.  His  first  break — on  Welsh  Dis- 
stablishment — is  reported  to  have 
asted  thirty-seven  minutes  and  reduced 
lie  marker  to  pulp. 


WOOLCOMBE  WOOD  AGAIN. 

LOVE  romance,  as  every  maiden  should, 
Though  to  thoworld  it  seems  fictitious 

tissue, 

So  off  I  set  to  seek  in  Woolcombe  Wood 
That  baby  unicorn  (see  recent  issue*). 

All   afternoon  I  rummaged  bush  and 

•whin, 
I  chirruped  softly  this  way  and  the 

other, 
[ill,  when  my  confidence  was  getting 

thin, 

I  saw,  through  lichened  trunks,  the 
baby's  mother  1 

A  mongrel-looking  brute,  with  tufted 

tail ; 

Her  hide  was  white,  but  weather- 
worn and  grimy ; 
Her  horn  was  scarlet-tipped,  and,  like 

a  flail, 

Itsmote  the  branches  as  she  blundered 
by  me. 

She  bleated  harshly,  like  a  thing  dis 

tressed, 
And  while  I  stood,  as  curious  as  may 

be, 
It  dawned  upon  me  that  she  shared 

my  quest — • 

The  mother,  too,  was  searching  for 
the  baby. 

Through  tanglsd  groves  that  bleating 

came  and  went, 
Importunate,   monotonous,  depress 

ing, 
Till  all  at  once  she  thrilled  with  quick 

content 

And  nuzzling    sounds    of    unicorns 
caressing. 

#  *  *  *  *-.•;!•* 

Though  maids  have  power  the  unicorn 

to  tame — 
Or  so  we  read  in  legends  of  romana 

—it 
Was  not  a  power  I   felt   inclined 

claim, 
So  home  I  trudged,  deciding  not  tx 

chance  it. 
•Punch,  March  12th,  "  A  Unicorn  Story." 


Sporting    Headline    in    Daily    Ex- 
press:— 

"WILL  UNCLE   PAT 
MISS  LINCOLN." 

We  hope  that  Uncle  will  not  pat  Miss 
Lincoln. 


MARCH  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


251 


Mary  Ann.  "Ip  you  PLEASE,  SIB,  I  WOULDN'T  MIND  STANDING  ON  THAT  THEM:  TURN-SPIT  THING  IF  ANT  TIMB  sou 'D  LIKE  TO 

MAKE  A  IDOL  OP  ME." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

MR.  GEORGE  RUSSELL  has  a  happy  knack  of  inventing 
quaint  titles  for  the  volumes  in  which  are  garnered  for  the 
instruction  and  delight  of  posterity  his  contributions  to  the 
contemporary  Press.  His  latest,  Half  Lengths  (GRANT- 
BJCHAEDS),  contains  only  a  moderate  proportion  of  snippets 
a  newspaper  column  long  and  is  to  that  extent  better  than 
some  of  its  predecessors.  The  more  generous  space-afforded 
by  monthly  magazines  has  given  fuller  opportunity  of 
doing  justice  to  his  themes.  The  volume  opens  with  a 
striking  appreciation  and  comparison  of  two  Cardinals, 
NEWMAN  and  WISEMAN.  Better  still  is  the  study  of  the 
character  of  the  late  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE,  who,  as  Lord 
HABTINGTON,  through  troublous  times  maintained  at  its 
highest  level  the  tone  of  English  Parliamentary  life  and 
statesmanship.  The  characteristics  of  the  first  Lord 
COLERIDGE  and  the  only  HENRY  LABOUCHEBE  are  sketched 
with  light  hut  informing  touch.  Best  of  all,  where  all  is 
good,  are  the  miniatures  of  the  WILBERFORCES,  "  a  family 
which  for  a  hundred-and-thirty  continuous  years  has  served 
England  with  soul  and  speech."  The  founder  was  the 
emancipator  of  the  slaves.  One  of  his  sons  was  SAMUEL, 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  of  whom  Mr.  RUSSELL  contrives  to  write 
without  quotation  of  an  alliterative  nickname,  which  over 
a  trivially-minded  but  numerically  large  circle  has  done 
much  to  obscure  the  qualities  and  achievements  of  a  £reat 


man.  One  of  Bishop  WILBEBFORCE'B  sons,  Archdeacon  of 
Westminster,  to-day  lends  dignity  and  spiritual  grace  to 
the  chaplaincy  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  chapter  on 
Lord  WOLVERHAMPTON  is  invested  with  the  pungency  of 
a  gay  spitefulness.  It  was,  I  believe,  originally  written 
for  the  Life  of  the  statesman  better  known  as  HENRY 
FOWLER,  compiled  by  a  dutiful  daughter,  which  shows  how 
Mr.  RUSSELL'S  humour  occasionally  borders  on  the  reckless. 


If,  wandering  over  Polynesian  Seas,  you  overheard  some- 
body say,  "  Talofa ! "  to  somebody  else,  and  the  second 
party  replied,  "  Jorana! "  would  you  immediately  understand 
that  the  last  speaker  came  from  the  island  of  Huahino? 
You  would  not  '>  Well,  Mr.  JACK  LONDON  would.  As  far 
as  I  can  gather  from  A  Son  of  the  Sun  (MILLS  AND  BOON), 
the  Polynesian  Seas  are  as  familiar  to  him  as  Fleet  Street 
to  me.  He  knows  that  if  you  are  disorderly  in  the  Tivoli 
at  Apia,  it  is  Charley  Roberts  who  throws  you  out ;  that,  at 
Goboto,  it  is  the  unwritten  law  that  white  men  must  wear 
trousers;  and  a  thousand  other  facts  of  a  similar  nature. 
He  is  a  Polynesian  Encyclopaedia,  and  he  presents  his 
knowledge  to  the  public  through  the  medium  of  a  series  of 
short  stories,  dealing  with  the  adventures  of  one  David 
Grief,  a  trader.  The  man  himself  is  colourless,  but  the 
adventures  are  hereby  certified  to  be  of  the  finest  quality. 
For  sustained  excitement,  "  The  Devils  of  Fuatino  "  easily 
heads  the  list,  but  I  enjoyed  almost  as  much  the  broad 
farce  of  "  The  Feathers  of  the  Sun."  In  the  former  story, 


252 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAR1VARL_ 


26,  1913. 


n, 
««oon 


But  I 


A  ft  pirate,  anchored  in  a  lagoon,  has  treed  B.  (who  is 
< irief)  on  a  lofty  peak.  B.  cannot  come  down  with- 
)"  shot-  but  on  the  other  hand,  A.  cannot  leave  the 
„,..„,„  without  being  blown  to  bits,  for  ho  has  to  pass 
d.rectlv  under  B.'s  peak,  and  B.  has  a  collection  o  dynamic 
sticks  which  ho  proposes  to  drop  if  necessary.  \\  hat  shou 
A  do?  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  B.?  For  solution,  see 
A  Son  of  the  Sun.  The  second  story  deals  with  the  frenzied 
finance  of  Cornelius  Utasy,  the  beach-comber  the  first  man 
to  institute  paper  money  in  tho  island  of  l<i tu-lva.  Bl 
becomes  Cliancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  in  that  position 
taxes  everybody  and  everything  till  life  in  Fitu-Iva  becomes 
hardly  wo'rth  living.  How  did  Mr.  LONDON  get  that  idea  ? 

Tlie  Silence  of  Men  (JOHN  LANE)  impressed  me  chiefly  as 
an  instance  of  clever  observation  thrown  away  upon  a 
foolish  and  unconvincing  tale.  There  is  no  question  that 
Mr.  PBEVOST  BATTEKSBY  (more  familiar  to  readers  of 
romance  under 'the  name  of  '-FRANCIS  PBEVOST")  knows 
the  life  of  Anglo-India  as  there  are  few  who  know 
what  is  rarer  still,  can  convey  that  knowledge, 
wish  it  adorned  a  better  ( • 

S'ot.  John  March,  the 
ritish  Eesident  in  a 
native  state,  met  Lynn's 
Ashbnrton  on  the  voyage 
to  Bombay,  fell  in  love 
with  her,  and  finally,  in 
order  that  she  should  be 
legally  provided  for,  mar- 
ried her,  though,  for  a 
not  very  obvious  reason, 
the  coremony  was  kept 
a  profound  secret,  and 
made  no  change  in  their 
relations.  After  a  while, 
however,  Lynne  got 
bored  with  this  and ' 
sailed  for  England,  leav- 
ing a  note  to  tell  March 
that  she  had  married 
Lord  Dorrington,  and 
that  he  'd  better  hold  his 
peace  about  the  former 
little  affair.  Which  he  did ; 
And  then,  years  afterwards,  when  he  had  fallen  in  love 
with  somebody  else,  whom  he  couldn't  marry  without 
being  a  bigamist  and  couldn't  undeceive  without  smash- 
ing the  Dorringtons'  heir,  it  quite  casually  turns  out  that 
Lynne  had  been  married  to  yet  another  husband  before  she 
met  March.  Well,  I  have  often  been  impressed  by  "  the 
silence  of  men,"  but  I  found  the  silence  of  this  much- 
wedded  woman  simply  staggering.  For  all  that,  and 
despite  some  irritating  mannerisms  and  affectations  (ex- 
emplified by  such  phrases  as  "  an  official  reception  was 
a  very  lion's  mouth  of  ennui,"  and  others  equally  uneasy), 
I  should  call  the  book  well  worth  reading  for  its  graphic 
pan-pictures  of  Indian  scenes  and  character,  drawn  by  one 
having  an  obviously  first-hand  acquaintance  with  Empire- 
Builders. 


Queer  things,  however,  happen  in  South  Africa,  and  readers 
of  Miss  M"LLS  YOUNG'S  previous  novels  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  hear  that  Myles  had  to  negotiate  a  vast  deal  of 
trouble  before  he  was  able  to  say  to  Joan  Farrant,  "  With 
you  beside  me,  the  whole  world  is  my  kingdom  and  you  ray 
queen."  I  can  just  manage  to  believe  in  this  severely  tried 
hero,  but  I  did  from  time  to  time  find  occasion  to  wonder 
whether  he  was  not  allowing  himself  to  bear  rather  too 
many  brunts ;  and  his  creator  seems  also  to  have  thought 
that  ho  was  a  little  too  perfect,  for  at  the  very  end  of  the 
story  she  admits,  with  an  abruptness  that  surprised  me, 
that  he  was  not  immaculate.  Miss  YOUNG  writes  in  a  most 
vivid  manner,  and  her  book  can  bo  warmly  recommended 
to  anyone  who  is  likely  to  be  exhilarated  by  the  spectacle 
of  a  great  fight  against  misfortune. 


THE  WORLD'S  WORKERS. 

CLASS  IK  BIIOKEN  ENGLISH  FOB  LONDON  LADIES  OF  TIIE  BALLET,  TO  ENABLE 
THEM  TO  APPLY  FOR  ENGAGEMENTS  AS  RUSSIAN  DANCF.HS. 


and  that  was  his  "  silence." 


For  the  sake  of  Judges  and  other  guileless  people,  I  ought 
to  say  that  tho  letters  of  the  title  of  Myles  Galthorpe,  I.D.B. 
(JOHN  LANE),  do  not  represent  a  distinction  given  for  services 
to  the  state,  but  stand  for  Illicit  Diamond  Buyer.  Yet  a 
glance  at  the  picture  of  Myles,  on  the  cover  of  the  book, 
will  convince  you  that,  although  he  might  be  a  fast  and 
tricky  wing  three-quarter  he  could  never  wittingly  have 
bought  or  sold  a  precious  stone  by  irregular  methods. 


Mrs.  ELINOR  GLYN  has  achieved  some  results  in  the  past, 
but  I  have  my  suspicions  that  she  did  so  rather  by  good 
luck  than  by  good  management,  if  her  new  volume  is  to 
bo  taken  as  the  production  of  her  mature  genius.  The 
title-story  of  The  Contrast  (DUCKWORTH)  is  a  not  very 

enlivening  conversation 
between  a  benedict  and 
his  mistress,  disclosing 
no  new  thoughts  on  the 
situation  and  showing 
no  new  characteristics  in 
the  parties,  except  a  ten-  ! 
dency  in  the  lady  to  a 
domestic  virtue  alien  to  i 
tho  class.  Tho  "Point 
of  View  "  is  the  sort  of 
story  that  anybody  might 
write,  but  most  people 
wouldn't,  not  because 
they  dared  not,  but  be- 
cause they  hadn't  the 
time  to  waste.  All  that 
the  Canon's  niece,  the 
Bishop's  Chaplain  and 
the  spurious  foreign 
Count  said,  thought  and 
did  has  been  said, 
thought  and  done  a 
thousand  times  before  in  books.  "  Fragments "  is  un- 
doubtedly the  best  of  a  bad  lot.  I  cannot  say  that  I  wa^ 
greatly  pleased  when  Sir  John  called  Winnifred  "  his 
darling  white  dove,"  but  there  was  about  that  bird  at  least 
a  touch  of  tho  ingenuous  which  was  very  refreshing. 

Mr.  E.  C.  BENTLKY  is  shrewd  enough  to  know  that  the 
experienced  reader  of  a  novel  dealing  with  a  murder  wil 
inevitably  suspect  from  tho  start  tho  person  with  the  best 
alibi.  That  is  to  say,  if  a  millionaire  is  found  shot  on  his 
lawn  the  probability  is  that  the  culprit  is  the  piiyate 
secretary  who,  sotting  out  before  the  tragedy  takes  place, 
spends  tho  night  motoring  to  Southampton — six  hours 
away — and  duly  reports  his  arrival  there.  Mr.  BENTLEY 
sees  that  this  is  expected  of  him,  so  he  accepts  the  situation 
and  docs  not  make  very  much  of  a  mystery  of  that  part  of 
the  narrative,  though  he  packs  the  investigations  of  Trent 
his  amateur  detective,  full  of  exciting  ingenuities.  The  real 
interest  of  Trent's  Last  Case  (NELSON)  centres  round  the 
motive  of  the  crime,  and  only  when  you  get  to  the  last  three 

~     t _J1_  .      /?  __    .1      1.1     _  i.         _  Pi --       _  1  I  l}.,^*^*-™1! 


or  four  pages  do  you  find  that,  after  all 


But  to  tell 


that  here  would  be  to  spoil  an  excellent  story,  told  with  a 
rare  distinction.  I  wish  Mr.  BENTLKY  would  relate  some  of 
Trent's  earlier  cases,  or  let  him  take  tip  some  more  as  a 
post-nuptial  hobby. 


I 


Arum  2.  1913.] 


.PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CIIAUIVABI. 


253 


CHARIVARIA. 

Too  much  has  been  made  by  news- 
paper humorists  of  the  Suffragist  who 
throw  a  pot  of  paint  afc  the  Home 
Office  ancl  missed  it.  She  hit  'White- 
hall —  which,  in  our  opinion,  is  very 
fair  markmanship  for  a  woman. 


• 

We  havo  road  a  great  deal  about 
these  lightning  waiters'  strikes.  Now 
let  us  eee  some  of  those  lightning 

waiters.  *  + 

* 

Fined  for  disorderly  conduct  in  the 
street,  two   young   men   pleaded   that 
they  were  ratepayers  and  had  a  right 
to  sing  and   dance.     That 
they  should  havo  had  the 
Inn-fulness  to  do  so,  with 
is  as  high  as  they  are, 
k  a,  sign  that  the  bull-dog 
lured  has  not  yet  died  out. 
*  .'*  .. 

Ever  since  the  prisoner 
at  Bow  Street  asked  to  be 
allowed  to  go  to  Pentonvillo 
prison  instead  of  to  Brixton, 
on  tho  ground  that  the 
t<  "imer  institution's  cells 
were  healthier  and  airier, 
the  conceit  of  tho  Penton- 
villo warders  has  become, 
according  to  our  local 
correspondent,  perfectly  in- 

bllfferal'lc.      ...    .,. 
...    ^ 

# 

The  notion  that  Chinese 
plays  are  of  tremendous 
length,  lasting  for  several 
ks,  is  ridiculed  by  an 
authority  at  the  British 
MiKruni.  Some  Chinese 
curtain-raisers,  wo  believe, 
liai-cly  last  into  the  third 
day. 


Ilampstcad,  however,  is  not  to  have 
it  all  its  own  way.  It  is  stated  that 
the  water  supplied  by  the  Coggeshall 
and  Kelvedon  Waterworks,  of  JJrain- 
treo,  has  a  milky  appearance,  is  slightly 
effervescent,  cures  rheumatism  and 
kills  plants.  Water  nowadays  can  do 
practically  everything  except  talk. 

According  to  a  Vienna  paper,  the 
chief  duties  of  an  officer's  soldicr- 
scrvant  are,  in  time  of  peace,  to  wash 
dogs ;  and,  in  time  of  war,  to  kill  ilics 
and  mosquitoes.  Peace  hath  her  vic- 
tories no  less  than  war. 


*  * 
* 


Burglars  in  Chelsea  last  week  visited 


and  liars.  This  sort  of  thing  is  all 
very  well  in  Parliament,  but  intolerable 
in  a  real  business  concern. 

*  * 

Tho  Irish  day  by  day.  At  Guildford 
a  man  has  been  offering  his  services  as 
honorary  secretary  at  a  salary  of  £2G 
a  year;  and  in  Nashville,  Tennessee, 
when  tho  judge,  following  the  annual 
custom,  released  all  Irish  prisoners  on 
St.  Patrick's  day,  several  negroes  put 
in  a  claim  for  liberty  on  the  ground 
that  they  were  Irish. 
**.* 

Porridge,  says  a  contemporary,  is 
disappearing  in  Scotland.  We  have 
noticed  it  do  so,  especially  at  the 
breakfast-hour. 


Tho  Rush  of  Life  in  the  North.  Two 
^porters  were  the  only  persons  present 
at  a  recent  vestry  meeting  at  Hudders- 

*...* 

A  patent  asphyxiating  revolver  has 
lieeti  invented  by  the  Paris  police  for 
use  in  moments  of  emergency.  It 
••mils  "a  thick  and  acrid  smoke,  which 
'•aiNos  those  in  its  neighbourhood  to 
*mv*e  and  woep,  half-suffocated."  We 
fancy  we  know  tho  identical  cigar 
which  first  gave  the  inventor  his  idea. 
*  * 

Only  one  point  remains  to  be  cleared 

•jp  in  the  matter  of  that  Hampstead 

water.      A   resident   in    Bolsize    Park 

'l>ed  it  as  smelling  like  a  geranium; 

while  a  deiiixen  of  (ireencroft  Garden, 

"It    smelt    like    paraffin."     11  i> 

Hainpstead   succeed. -d    in    growing    a 

•-pecial  paraffin -per  fumed  geranium  '.' 


For  posting  a  bill  adver- 
tising the  Suffragettes'  Self- 
Denial  Week  on  a  pillar- 
box,  a  woman  at  West  1 1  am 
has  denied  herself  twenty 
shillings  and  four  shillings 
costs.  #  j, 

Mexico  may  have  its 
little  troubles,  but  it  has 
still  one  claim  to  bo  con- 
sidered as  an  earthly  para- 
dise. It  contains  a  town  of 
10,000  inhabitants  where 
there  is  no  moving-picture 
palace. 

CRACKED  QUATRAINS. 
(The  title  to  be  said  rapidly 
7i  i  nc  times  before  proceeding.) 

FOK  me,  my  faith  is  always 
pinned 

To  simple  folk  who  call  it 
wind. 

Itshowsahigh-falutin  mind 

To  go  and  gas  about  tho 
wind. 

When  we  and  John  combine  in  chorus, 
Wo  make  a  sound  wre  call  sonorous. 
You  cannot  really  care  for  John  or  us, 
If  you  insist  on  saying  sonorous. 

It  is  a  boon  to  busy  men 

To  say  that  simple  word  again. 

If  you  have  time  to  strive  and  strain, 

You  may  prefer  to  say  again. 

He 's  not  attractive,  as  a  rule, 
The  grisly  Oriental  ghoul ;    • 
But,  if  you  'd  like  him  doubly  foul, 
You  've  only  got  to  call  him  ghoul. 

I  do  not  care  a  crooked  pin 
About  the  British  Philistine; 
And  yet  he  is  not  such  a  swine 
That  we  must  call  him  Philistine. 

I  asked  the  maid  in  dulcet  tone 
To  order  me  a  toasted  scone. 

<•  Vilnius  limUo  up  in  confusion  owing  The  silly  maid  has  been  and  gone 
lo  Iho^  piv^-nt  calling  each  other  cads  And  ordered  me  a  toastsd  scone. 


THE  AGE  OF  LUXURY; 
or,   Wluit  ti-e  art  Coming  to. 

A   PERFORMING   DOQ  TO  AMUSE  YOUR  DOO. 


a  house  in  Camera  Square  and  removed 
a  fumed  oak  dining-room  suite,  a  pink 
silk  and  rosewood  drawing-room  suite, 
a  bedroom  suite,  a  piano,  a  sideboard, 
a  table  and  some  chairs,  pictures,  china, 
linen,  clothing  and  silver.  They  then, 
says  the  report,  left  the  house.  They 
did  leave  that.  ^  ^ 
# 

"  European  civilisation,"  says  Mr. 
SKTHANATHA  YKNKATAUAMANI,  in  an 
article  on  the  Coromandel  fishermen, 
"  has  as  yet  mada  little  or  no  mark 
on  these  humble  men."  Coromandel 
fishermen  are  writing  to  enquire  how 
Mr.  YKNKATAUAMANI  squares  this  state- 
ment with  his  remark  later  on  in  the 
article  that  they  are  "  awful  drunkards." 

>;:   * 
At  a  recent  company  meeting,  pro- 


VOL.  c 


254 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON^CHARIVARL 


[APRIL  2,  3913, 


BRIGHTER    CRICKET. 

-  Yon  beard  mo  quito  well,  Mary.  Cricket.  That  was 
what  1  said.  1  shall  take  up  cricket  again.  No,  I  '111  not  a  bit 
too  okl  Nobody  is.  You  can  have  all  sorts  of  cricket,  you 
know  Mary.  There 's  the  cricket  you  teach  your  children, 
and  there's  village  cricket,  which  was  onco  played  on 
village  greens  wit'i  the  Squire  and  the  Hector  looking  on 
and  all  the  boys  joining  in  the  sport,  and  the  blacksmith 
(there  was  always  a  blacksmith)  hitting  three  or  four 
almighty  swipes  and  then  getting  bowled  by  a  silly  lob ; 
and  thcVo  's  school  cricket  and  club  cricket,  and  country  - 
houso  cricket,  and  county  cricket,  and  university  cricket, 
and  lots  of  other  cricket— soldiers'  cricket  and  sailors' 
cricket.  Doesn't  it  make  you  think  of  hot  days,  and  the 
jolly  smell  of  the  pads,  and  the  crisp  grass,  -and  the  taste 
of  shandy-gaff  out  of  a  long  glass  ?  Don't  s'ay  shandy- 
gaff's  not  your  tipple,  Mary.  It's  really  everybody's 
lipplo,  and  you'll  learn  to  like  it  some  day.  Bless  me, 
how  it  gurgles  down ! 

"  Mary,  I  hit  an  eight  once.  I  give  you  my  sacred  word 
of  honour  I  did— fully  run  out  it  was  and  no  overthrows. 
Don't  ask  me  how  I  did  it.  Nobody  knows  how  he  does 
thcso  things.  They  just  happen.  This  happened  in  a 
House  match  at  school.  I  suppose  the  ball  picked  out  the 
one  place  on  the  bat  and  the  bat  got  the  ball  on  the  very 
nick,  and  away  it  went  and  away  we  went,  and  before  the 
ball  got- to  the  wicket  we  'd  run  eight.  That 's  the  sort  of 
memory  that  '11  stay  you  up  when  you  come  to  your  last 
gasp  and  wonder  if  you  couldn't  have  done  things  better. 

"  There  was  a  chap  at  Cambridge — Smith  was  his  name ; 
it  really  was — and  whenever  I  hear  the  word  '  Fenner's  '  I 
can  see-  him  quite  plainly  walking  about  with  his  quick 
step  and  hear  him  shouting  out,  '  Card  of  the  match, 
gentlemen.'  It  all  comes  over  me  like  a  dream.'  1  wonder 
if  he 's  at  it  still.  Perhaps  he  's  selling  cards  for  some 
great  match  in4he  Elysian  fields.  We  were  all  young  then, 
Mary,  and  we  took  things  as  they  came,  and  we  didn't 
mind  sitting  and  watching  and  watching,  for  it 's  the.  best 
game  in  the  world  "to  watch. 

"  What  do  they  want  to  brighten  cricket  for?  Cricket 
isn't  an  old  tin-can  or  a  musical  comedy  or  a  pleasant 
Sunday  afternoon.  Cricket's  a  jolly  deliberate  affair,  with 
good  sound  rules  for  keeping  it  so  and  preventing  'the 
hustlers  from  getting  hold 'of  it  and  ruining  it.  Cricket's 
like  life.  It  spreads  out  and  you've-~time  to  turn  round  in 
it  and  room  to  take  your  ease  "and  look  forward  to  things. 
It  bores  you,  does  it?  :That  just  proves  how  right  it  is. 
You  want  thrills  and  shocks,,  .and  ecstasies  and  corybantic 
dances — but  that.'s  just  what  you  won't  get  in  cricket, 
thank  heaven.  Yes,  you're  quite  right;  You  have  heard 
me  mention  COBDEN  and  his  three  wickets  at  the  end  of 
the  match,  but  that  was  an  exception.  You  can't  arrange 
a  team  to  be' all  Cobdens,  and  if  you  could  you  wouldn't 
get  your  thrills  all  the  time.  Besides,  you  couldn't  stand 
it  if  you  had  it  all  vicissitudes  of  that  kind. 

"But  I'll  tell  you  another  thing.  Cricket's  one  of  our 
few  surviving  English  institutions.  When  you  're  travelling 
abroad  and  think  of  England  what  comes  into  your  mind  ? 
I'll  mention  one  or  two  things.  There's  breakfast — fried 
soles  and  bacon  and  eggs  with  marmalade  to  top  up  with. 
There's  wearing  knickerbockers  and  comfortable  boots  in 
the  country.  There's  going  to  the  Derby.  It  doesn't 
matter  a  bit  if  you  've  never  gone  to  Epsom  in  your  life. 
When  you're  abroad  you'll  begin  to  think  of  the  Derby  as 
one  of  the  things  worth  seeing.  I  've  seen  a  meek  little 
Professor  in  Constantinople  simply  pining  for  the  Derby. 
And  then  there's  cricket — you  can't  transplant  it.  French- 
men and  Germans  and  Russians  won't  play  it,  but  it  suits 


us,  with  its  profoundly  interesting  tediousness,  ita  science, 
its  skill,  its  clean  neatness,  its  white  flannels  and  its  smooth 
!*reen  turf.  Down  with  all  nonsense  about  brightening 
it,  say  I."  ^ 

A  LUECHEB, 

ALL  along  the  moorland  road  a  caravan  there  conies 
Where  the  piping  curlew  whistles  and  the  jacksnipe  drums  ; 

And  a  long  lean  dog 

At  a  sling  jig-jog, 
A  poacher  to  his  eyelids  as  .are  all  the  lurcher  clan, 
Follows  silent  as  a  shadow  and  as  clever  as  a  man. 

His  master  on  the  splashboard,  oh,  of  ancient  race  he  is, 
He  came  down  out  of  Egypt,  as  did  all  the  Eomauys ; 

With  the  haid  hawk  face 

Of  an  old  king  race, 
His  hair  is  black  and  snaky  and  his  cheek  is  brown  as  tea, 
And  pyramids  and  poacher-dogs  are  made  by  such  as  he ! 

Now  the  dog  ho  looks  as  pious  as  the  beak" upon  the  bench, 
But  he'll  pounce  and  pick  a  hare  up,  and  he'll  kill  her 
with  a  wrench, 

Or  he  '11  sneak  around  a  rick 
And  bring  back  a  turkey  chick, 
And  you'll  wonder  how  they  got  him  all  his  cockakeiio 

-fakes  ; 

Well,  his  master  comes  of  people  who  turned  walking-sticks 
to  snakes ! 

There  was  ones  a  god  in  Egypt,  when  the  gods  they  first 
began, 

With  the  muzzle  of  a  lurcher  on  the  body  of  a  man  ; 
But  the  Pharaoh  of  to-day 
He  has  changed  the  ancient  way, 

And  has  found  him  a  familiar  by  his  caravan  to  jog, 

With  the  headpiece  of  a  human  on  the  body' of  a  dog ! 


ONCE   UPON    A  TIME. 
THE  DOG  VIOLETS. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  patch  of  dog  violets 
growing  on  a  bank  in  March.  They  were  very  beautiful 
but  they  had  no  scent,  and  the  country  people,  knowing 
this,  passed  them  by.  Day  after-  day-  the  flowers  heard 
scornful  remarks-  about  themselves.  "They're  only  dog 
violets,"  said  one  of  the  knowing  country  people.  "Don't 
bother  about  them,"  said  another.'  "I  know  where  there's 
real  violets,"  said  a  third  ;  "  come  on  !  "  And  since  no  one 
likes  to  be  overlooked  and-  despised,  even  though  attention 
should  mean  destruction,  the  dog  violets. were  very  unhappy. 
"  As  if  perfume  was  everything !  "  they  said  ;  while  one  of 
them  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  she  always  found  the 
scent  of  the  other  kind  of  violet  overpowering.  "A  strong 
scent  is  so  vulgar,"  she  added.  "  Yes,"  said  another,  "  and 
so  are  rich  colours.  Pale  tints  are  much  more  artistic." 

One  day  the  princess  came  driving  along  in  her  gold 
coach  from  the  royal  city  near  by,  and  seeing  the  patch  of 
flowers  on  the  bank  she  gave  orders  for  the  carriage  to  stop. 
"Oh,  how  beautiful!"  she  said,  for,  being  a  princess,  she 
had  never  seen  violets  growing  before ;  she  had  seen  only 
tiger-lilies  and  camellias  and  smilax  and  Marechal  Niels. 
"How  beautiful! "  she  cried  as  her  lord  chamberlain  brought 
her  a  great  bunch.  "  They're  only  dog  violets,"  he  said, 
for  he  was  well  versed  in  all  lore ;  "  they  have  no  scent." 
"The  darlings!"  she  cried.  "It  wouldn't  matter  if  they 
had,  I  've  got  such  an  awful  cold ;  "  and  she  pressed  them 
to  her  white  bosom,  where  in  an  ineffable  rapture  of  pride 
and  content  they  swooned  away. 


PUNCH.   OR  THH  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— Anm,  2,  1913. 


A    MODEST    BEQUEST. 


JOHN  BULL.  "I'VE  JUST  BEEN  BEADING  FOUR  VOLUMES  ABOUT  YOUR  KIND  HEART; 
AND  NOW,  BY  WAY  OS1  PROVING  IT,  CAN'T  YOU  TAKE  A  LITTLE  SOMETHING  OFF 
MY  INCOME-TAX?" 


AruiL  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


257 


WARDING    OFF  THE    SPRING    FROSTS. 

Helpmate.  "I'VE  BitouGirr  YOUB  PYJAMAS  FOB  THE  ASPAIUGUS  BED,  JACK." 


A  FAIRY  TALE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man 
called  James  Carmichael,  and  lie  was  a 
miser.  Like  all  misers,  lie  could  not  | 
help  it ;  but,  unlike  most  misers,  he  was 
not  really  very  rich,  for  he  was  too 
careful.  He  saved  everything,  even 
team-tickets,  which  he  used  as  hook- 
markers,  and  old  envelopes,  on  which 
ho  wrote  letters  to  people  who  did  not 
matter.  He  had  an  office  high  up  in  a 
big  building ;  it  was  very  small  and  ho 
had  only  a  few  clerks  to  help  him  ; 
when  there  was  any  more  work  to  do 
he  did  it  himself. 

Now  it  happened  that  some  people 
who  were  sorry  for  old  bachelors  asked 
•lamos  Carmichael  to  dinner  on  Christ- 
mas Day,  and  as  this  did  not  cost  him 
an\ thing  he  went.  He  disliked  it  very 
much  at  first,  but  in  the  end  he  quite 
enjoyed  it,  and  when  he  got  home  ho 
fell  asleep  in  his  chair.  And  while  he 
was  asleep  a  dwarf  appeared  and 
talked  to  him.  The  dwarf  was  very 
cheerful  and  very  rude,  and  he  would 
not  go  away  until  James  Carmichael 


had  given  him  a  promise.  The  promise 
was  that  for  a  whole  week  he  would  ho 
kind  to  the  people  whom  ho  disliked 
most,  and  the  people  he  disliked  most 
were  Travellers,  who  used  to  come  to 
his  office  and  try  to  sell  him  things 
which  ho  did  not  want.  He  hated  these 
people  so  much  that  he  was  frightened 
of  them ;  they  were  never  allowed  to 
see  him,  and  there  was  a  brass  plate  on 
the  office  door  telling  them  to  go  away. 
But  when  he  went  back  to  the  office 
after  Christmas  ha  had  the  brass  plate 
taken  down,  and  the  Travellers  soon 
began  to  come  in. 

On  the  first  day  he  bought  a  type- 
writer and  three  bunches  of  lavender 
and  a  packet  of  hooks  to  hang  coats 
and  hats  on ;  on  the  sacond  day  a  lady 
sold  him  enough  soap  to  last  the  office 
for  a  year,  and  he  had  to  give  a  lot  of 
Christmas-boxes  and  subscriptions. 

He  found  that  wrhen  these  people 
came  in  and  made  speeches  to  him,  he 
could  not  refuse  them ;  he  bought  an 
atlas,  and  two  waste-paper  baskets, 
and  a  directory.  So  it  went  on,  until 
on  New  Year's  Eve  a  little  rosy- 


cheeked  man  in  a  shiny  top-hat  made 
him  insure  his  life. 

He  had  never  insured  his  life  before, 
but  the  rosy-cheeked  man  made  such  a 
beautiful  speech  that  he  insured  for 
five  thousand  pounds.  Then  lie  put 
back  the  brass  plate,  and  one  day  not 
long  afterwards  he  fell  ill  and  died. 
James  Carmichael  was  my  uncle,  and  I 
was  his  only  relation.  .  .  . 

Rather  a  sad  little  story,  is  it  not  ? 
And  if  I  happen  to  have  told  it  to  you 
before— as  a  basis  for  negotiating  a 
temporary  loan — you  will  be  sorry  to 
hear  that  it  really  is  a  fairy  tale. 


A  Howler  from  Buxton. 

"  The  weight  of  Goliath's  shield  was  200 
freckles." 

"  London  is  as  dead  as  the  proverbial  door- 
nail this  week-end,  as  practically  everybody 
who  could  manage  it  is  away  for  the  Easter 
holiday.  .  .  .  The  Easter  holiday  this  year 
may  be  fitly  described  as  a  stay-at-home  one. 
.  .  .  At  most  of  the  London  termini  there 
were  loud  complaints  of  unparalleled  Easter 
inactivity."—  Continental  Daily  Mail. 
And  so  our  contemporary's  search  for 
truth  goes  on. 


258 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARL_ 


[APRIL  2,  1913. 


ANTI-TOUCHSTONES. 


Lastly   my  name  is  Ernest  Vansittart '  arranging  little  surprises  for  my  country- 

„,„  ,  ,-,  „ Goodman.     "No  limit"  is  my  motto,   men,  my -one  idea  being  to  keep  them 

vcl  nlvertisin"  device  of  an   and  I  never  question  a  telegram  or  post- ,  from  getting  Maw.    ihis  Lastcr,  it  may 
^^r^lin^rfurnisheieachde-lmark;  so  send  your  commissions  to  me.   be  recalled  by  some  of  my  readers,; 
tartmental  manager  of  which  describes 
lie  merits  of  his  particular  department 


and  offers  his  personal  guarantee  of  its 
sxcellence,  has  been  usefully  extended, 
,ince  surely  the  man  who  directs  a  con- 
•ern  is  the  man  who  knows  most  about 
t  and  is  the  most  to  be  believed.  The 
clown  in  As  You  Like  It  says,  "  A  poor 
thing,  but  my  own ; "  the  carpet  and 
>edstead  and  other  managers  say,  "  My 
own,  and  perfect."  The  tendency  to 
adopt  the  latter  course  being  so  much 
more  natural  than  Touchstone's  diffident 
attitude,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  fur- 
nishers' lead  has  been 
ollowed. 

i. 

Unaccustomed  as  I 
am  to  public  writing 

cannot  refrain  from 
taking  up  my  pen  to 
*ive  you  my  word  of 
nonour  that  my  little 
shop  is  the  best  there 
is.  (Signed) 

JOHN  SMITH. 


(Signed) 

ERNEST  VANSITTAHT  GOODMAN. 


IV. 


As    Postmaster  -  General    I 


was  in  exceptionally  good  form.  If 
anyone  doubts  it  I  would  say,  Where 
is  Worthing  pier '?  But  naturally  I  had 
to  he  very  thoughtful  and  thorough,  if 
should  only  as  a  reminder  to  those  in  authority 


like  to  say  that  a  degree  of  efficiency  that  Easter  must   never   he   so   early 
4   been   reached  in  my  department  again.     I  flatter  myself  that  those  four 


has  been  reached  in  my  department 
beyond  which  it  would  be  unsafe  to  go. 
Being  the  head,  I  not  only  ought  to 


again 

days  were  among  the  best  I  have  ever 

engineered.     The  wind,   the  rain,  the 


know  but  do  know.     We  have  every-   cold— weren't  they  all  of  the  highest 
thing  that  the  public  can  want.     We  quality  ?     Trusting  then  that  you  will 


continue  to   allow  mo  to  work   these 


thing 

have  a  fine  assortment  of  stamps  at  all 

prices  and  in  all  colours,  covered  with   little  matters  for  you,  I  remain,  yours 

gum  on  the  back  so  as  to  bo  easily   faithfully, 


ii. 

As  head  of  the  Oppo- 
sition Snap  Division 
Department  I  wish  the 
information  to  become 
widely  spread  that  my 
aim  is  accurate  and  my 
arm  powerful,  while  the 
advantage  that  my 
great  height  gives  me 
should  not  be  over- 
looked. When  there  is 

no  book  handy  or  no        pc   x       ninociicd  down  by  motor-car— confusedly).  "Y- YOU'VE   G-GOI   MY 

Government  face  near  NUMBEB  |  » 

enough,  I  am  prepared  — 

to  shout  with  the  best,  and  in  short  to   affixed  to  envelopes.    Any  customer  not  j  my  safety  become  positively  mdecer 

do  anything  that  is  humanly  possible  liking  any  of  the  patterns  has  but  to  |  One   would   indeed   imagine    on    su( 

to  let   the  other  side  know  how  un-   ask  for  me.     We  have  a  series  of  sub- !  occasions    that    traffic   was    unknown 

popular  they  are,  how  unconstitutional  post-offices     all     over     the     country,  |  outside  London. 

their   conduct,    and    how    august    an !  thoughtfully  if  not   sumptuously   fur-  \      Just  now  I  am  spending  jijew  days 

assembly  we  all  are  in. 

(Signed)         RONALD  McNiciLL. 


(Signed) 

THE  CLERK  OP  THR 
WEATHER. 


THE  TWO  WAYS. 

["0  you'll  tak  the  high 
road  an'  I  "11  tak  the 
lowroad." — Oldtioiu/.] 

THAT  Millichamp 
lives  in  London  and  I 
don't  is  a  matter  of  no 
importance  whatever, 
but  the  fact  neverthe- 
less leads  him  to  adopt 
an  irritating  attitude 
of  parental  responsi- 
bility when  I  pay  him 
a  visit.  I,  though  two 
years  his  senior,  am  a 
mere  provincial,  you 
undsrstand,  while  lie  is 
the  complete  towns- 
man. 

Especially  when  we 
are  engaged  in  such 
pastimes  as  Dodging 
the  Dray  and  Missing 
the  Motor-'bus  does 
his  fussy  concern  for 


in. 


Nothing  is  more  important  than  to 
know  with  whom  you  are  entrusting 
your  turf  commissions,  especially  in  a 
country  where  gambling  is  discounten- 
anced by  law,  and  let  me  therefore 
describe  myself  minutely.  I  have  a 
noble  brow  much  of  the  shape  of  an 
egg,  marked  by  philanthropy,  self- 
sacrifice  and  open-handedness.  My 
eyes  are  dark,  tender  and  true;  my 
nose  is  the  soul  of  honour ;  my  mouth 
is  strong  and  firm  and  benevolent ;  my 
hands  are  incapable  of  taking  in  money, 
my  one  delight  being  to  pay  it  out. 


nishe'd,  and  staffed  by  as  handsome;  in  town,  and  yesterday  Millichamp 
and  obliging  and  alacritous  young  men  ;  balanced  himself  on  the  edge  of  ths 
and  women  as  can  be  seen  outside  the  <  pavement  in  one  of  the  busiest  parts 
musical-comedy  stage.  Our  lead  pencils  of  the  City,  waiting  an  opportunity  to 
are  the  wonder  of  the  world  and  are !  dive  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
in  such  demand  that  they  have  to  be  while  I  stood  expectantly  behind  him. 


chained  to  the  desks;  our  blotting- 
paper  will  blot  anything.  In  short,  we 
are  perfect. 

(Signed)         HERBERT  SAMUEL. 

v. 

Nothing  but  unremitting  toil  and 
vigilance  could  bring  about  such  results 
as  my  department  is  constantly  achiev- 
ing, and  I  trust  that  my  share  in  them 
will  not  be  overlooked.  Day  and  night, 
early  and  late,  I  am  at  my  post, 


The  unbroken  stream  of  vehicles  surgec 
by  for  a  long  time  and  I  decided  to  leave 
him,  but  though  I  was  not  there  to  see 
it  all  I  know  exactly  what  followed. 

At  last  a  chance  came.  "  Now  we 
can  manage  it,"  cried  Millichamp 
"  Stick  close  behind  me,  old  chap.  D< 
exactly  what  I  do  and  you'll  be  al 
right."  With  that  he  plunged  into  the 
street. 

"Look  out  there!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Mind  that  taxi.  .  .  .  That 's  right.  .  .  . 


APRIL  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


209 


A    GOOD    SEND-OFF. 

Collector  (!o  airman,  golnj  tip  in  risky  weather  to  please  public).  "SUBSCBIBE  TO  THE  AMBULANCE,  SIB?  " 


Stick  close  to  me.  .  .  .  Don't  be 
frightened,  old  chap.  .  .  .  We  shall  do 
it  nicely.  .  .  .  Look  out  for  that  van. 
.  .  .  Take  hold  of  my  coat-tail,  if  you 
like.  .  .  .  Whatever  you  do,  stick  close 
to  mo. 

"  Wait  for  that  car  to  go  past ! "  he 
shouted.  "  Stick  close  to  me.  .  .  .  Stop 
a  hit  for  that  'bus.  .  .  .  Now.  .  .  . 
Hero  we  are  1 " — and  he  bounded  on  to 
the  opposite  pavement  and  looked  round 
for  his  charge. 

His  face  became  chalky.  "  Good 
heavens  I "  he  muttered  thickly.  "  What 
can  have  happened?  " 

Then  I  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 
'  Here  you  arp  at  last,"  I  said  cheerily. 

I  Yo  been  waiting  hero  for  you  quite 
a  long  time." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  ho  cried,  "  how  on 
earth  did  you  contrive  to  get  here? 
I  was  scared  to  death ;  I  thought  you  "d 
been  run  down." 

"Oh,  I  came  by  the  subway,"  I  ex- 
plained lightly.  "It 's  so  much  simpler, 
you  know." 

'^Well,    I'm    jiggered!"    said    he. 

I  Ye  lived  in  London  a  good  many 
years,  but  I  uever  thought  of  doing 
that." 


CONFESSIONS    OF    WEAKNESS. 

THE  girted  writer  who  presides  over 
the  "Office  Window"  of  The  Daily 
Chronicle  has  been  discussing  the 
curious  fears  of  men  who  arc  accounted 
fearless.  "  Personally,"  he  observes, 
"  with  no  pretence  to  special  bravery, 
I  would  rather  grapple  with  a  mad  dog 
Hum  take  in  my  hand  a  live  sparrow 
or  any  such  harmless  animal  that — 
squirms." 

As  the  result  of  inquiries  addressed 
to  a  number  of  intrepid  and  eminent 
public  characters,  Mr.  Punch  is  enabled 
to  lay  before  his  readers  the  following 
interesting  revelations  of  idiosyncrasy — 

Mr.  ALGEKNON  ASHTON  writes :  "  In 
spite  of  the  views  of  a  recent  musical 
essayist  in  The  Times,  I  would  rather 
face  a  mad  bull  with  no  other  weapon 
than  a  tuning-fork  than  listen  for  five 
minutes  to  a  Bag-time  march." 

Sir  HEN-KY  UOWORTH  sends  a  long 
communication  on  the  subject  which 
we  have  been  obliged  to  condense. 
The  gist  of  it  is  that  he  would  rather 
grapple  single-handed  with  a  mammoth 
than  write  a  letter  to  The  Times  con- 
taining fewer  than  2000  words. 


M.  PADEBEWSKI  wires  from  Moscow 
to  the  effect  that  he  would  infinitely 
prefer  to  leap  from  the  summit  of  the 
Eiffel  Tower  than  entrust  his  chcvclure 
to  the  mercies  of  a  strange  hairdresser. 

Mr.  WILLIAM  O'BRIEN,  M.P.,  in  a 
characteristic  phrase  observes  that  he 
would  sooner  be  seen  dead  with  JOHN 
EEDMOND  at  a  pig-fak  than  abandon 
the  policy  of  the  All-for-Ireland  League. 

Mr.  GUAHAME  WHITB  states  that  he 
would  rather  go  up  in  an  untried 
aeroplane  in  a  blizzard  than  miss  an 
interview  in  the  press. 

Finally,  Sir  ALFRED  MONO  declares 
that  sooner  than  live  in  England  under 
a  Tariff  Reform  rtf/imc,  he  would  emi- 
grate to  Tierra  del  Fuego  and  cast  in  his 
lot  with  the  cannibal  tribes  who  infest 
that  dismal  neighbourhood. 

Things  Emerson  didn't  write. 
"  The  great  man  who  onco  wrote,  '  Give  me 
health  and  a  dog  and  I  will  laugh  the  pomp  of 
Emperors  to  scorn,'  wantsd  to  teach  an  ele- 
mentary lesson." — Liverpool  Daily  1'ost. 

Every  morning  as  wo  feel  our  pulse, 
our  dachshund  watches  us  anxiously, 
wondering  if  it  is  one  of  our  pomp- 
scorning  days. 


260 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


2,  1913. 


PREMATURE    PROGRESS. 

("  £a<t>vts  ffia  puov  '  ) 

rlrrr*  W  conductors  of  the  horse  tramways  at  Oxford 
,-,.,,1  M  strike  on  Easter  Monday  for  improved  working 
auditions). 

1  K  .M  change  to  moving  change  the  world  goes  on, 
Even  at  Carfax  nothing  keeps  the  same, 

For  Daphnis  is  not— Daphnis,  who  would  ply, 
Urging  liis  antic  trolley  fleet  as  flame, 

1 1  is  prancing  coursers  up  and  down  the  High 
Unwcaryingly,  is  gone; 

Evanished  !  only  now  the  casual  bike, 

The  hansom  and  the  taxi  throng  the  Corn  ; 
Rusted  the  metal  tracks,  the  grooves  forlorn, 
For  Daphnis  and  his  friends  are  out  on  strike. 

Runs  it  not  here,  the  route  from  Cowley  Road  ? 
And  ofttimes  punters  on  the  flowery  Cher, 

Lifting  their  hands  to  wipe  away  a  midge, 
Have  watched  the  progress  of  his  stately  car 

Mounting  the  steep  ascent  to  Magdalen  Bridge; 
And  oft  with  joyous  load 

Of  married  doiis  have  we  beheld  it  fill 

(Speaking  just  now  of  the  North  Oxford  branch) 
Or  emptying  from  its  top  an  avalanche 
Of  female  undergrads.  from  Somerville. 

But  sudden  on  a  morn  of  wind-swept  March, 
When  term  was"  o'er  and  all  the  men  were  down, 

And  daffodils  were  selling  fairly  cheap 
But  sparslier  btoomed  the  academic  gown, 

Something  aroused  the  tramcars  from  their  sleep. 
They  stopped — they  stuck  like  starch : 
A  rumour  went  upon  the  breeze,  a  cry 

Of  things  that  happen  here  in  London  town, 

And  each  conductor  mused,  his  punch  laid  down, 
They  blooming  well  sirike  :   blooming  well  strike  I. 

Too  swift  reformer !  wherefore  art  thou  out  ? 
Soon  shall  the  high  mechanic  pomps  come  on, 

Electric  road-cars  with  suspended  wires 
The  business  tutor  and  the  commerce  don, 

The  hurrying  Change  that  echoes  and  perspires, 
And  stocks  in  flagrant  rout ; 

Then  shalt  bhou  learn  what  labour  movements  are 
And  hope  to  paralyse  our  industries, 
Mass-meetings  underneath  the  Wychwood  trees 
And  full  reports  in  the  pink  evening  Star. 

Till  then  forbear :  our  feverish  unions  spurn, 
As  some  grave  scholar  in  his  morning  sheet 

Espies  an  education  paragraph 
Saying  the  classic  tongues  are  now  efl'ete, 

And  hands  it,  smiling,  to  his  better  half : 
And  both  without  concern 

Resume  their  breakfast  of  uncrumpling  eggs 

Like  fallen  blossoms  in  the  bacon's  shade, 

Pass  and  repass  the  amber  marmalade 
And  drain  the  immortal  coffee  to  its  dregs, 

So  thou  too,  Daphnis,  to  thy  task  again ! 
Emerge  and  travel  on  the  dreaming  rails, 

And  trot  the  unpermitted  lorry  out 
When  morning  lights  the  sky  or  evening  pales 

Still  hearing  the  indomitable  scout ; 
Shake  out  once  more  thy  rein, 

And  snatcli  the  platform  and  resume  thy  loud 

Of  lady  shoppers  from  the  muslin  marts 

And  young  light-hearted  Masters  of  the  Arts 
And  M  t  them  down  upon  the  Banbury  Road.        EVOK. 


LITERARY    GOSSIP. 

(By  Our  Tame  Twaddler.) 

Sir  Castor  Royle,  the  famous  sportsman  author,  recently 
made  a  remarkable  journey  to  the  basin  of  the  Bongo.  He 
and  his  comrades  passed  through  the  gorge  of  Umpi  as  well 
as  the  impenetrable  forests  of  Gobolu,  inhabited  by  cannibal 
pygmies,  gorillas  and  cuneiform  quaggas.  Sir  Castor  has 
written  a  charming  account  of  his  experiences  under  the 
title,  How  I  Became  a  Cannibal.  The  book  will  be  shortly 
published  by  the  firm  of  Mandible  and  Champ,  but  cannot 
he  recommended  to  persons  with  weak  digestions — at  least 
so  says  Mr.  Goodleigh  Champ,  who  is  a  man  of  iron 
constitution. 

The  interesting  series  of  articles  on  the  golf-links  of  Tibet, 
which  recently  appeared  in  The  Chimes,  will  shortly  be  pub- 
lished in  book  form  by  PUTTMANS.  In  an  interesting  preface 
the  author,  Mr.  Isaac  Newton,  explains  how,  when  ho' was 
commissioned  by  the  editor  to  go  to  Tibet  to  write  about 
its  golf-links,  he  expressed  some  scepticism  as  to  whether 
they  existed  at  all,  but  that  the  Editor  cheerily  reassured 
him  at  once  by  saying,  "What  matter?  You  can  always 
fall  back  on  the  GRAND  LAMA."  As  it  turned  out,  golf  is 
strictly  forbidden  by  the  municipal  authorities  in  Lhasa, 
hut  this  did  not  prevent  Mr.  Isaac  Newton  from  writing  a 
series  of  breezy  letters  on  the  costume,  poetry  and  cookery 
of  the  country.  Mr.  Newton  has  added  fresh  lustre  to  the 
somewhat  tarnished  laurels  of  his  forgotten  ancestor. 

The  Grand  Duke  Melchior  is  about  to  join  the  ranks  of 
golfing  litterateurs.  For  some  years  past,  he  has  kept  an 
accurate  record  of  every  game  he  has  played,  with  the 
number  of  strokes  to  each  hole,  witty  remarks  made  by  his 
caddies,  etc.,  and  these  narratives,  profusely  illustrated  with 
snapshots  by  the  Grand  Duchess,  have  now  been  embodied 
in  a  volume  with  the  attractive  title,  From  150  to  100 ;  or, 
How  I  Brought  My  Handicap  Down  to  20.  Being  a  strictly 
veracious  man  the  Grand  Duke  has  not  refrained  from 
giving  the  objurgations  and  expletives  wrung  from  him  in 
moments  of  anguish,  but  in  deference  to  the  feelings  of  the 
gentle  reader  these  are  all  printed  in  Russian  characters. 


Mr.  Phil.  Jungsen,  the  famous  author  of  Essays  of  a 
Quick  Lnncher,  Thz  Shingles  of  Pain,  and  other  books 
that  count,  has  written  a  philosophical  treatise  which 
Chickweeds  will  soon  issue  under  the  title .  of  The  Life 
Precious,  in  which  the  writer  maintains  that  self-rcspecl 
can  bo  maintained  only  by  those  who  have  mastered  the  an 
of  expressing  themselves  with  serenity,  clarity  and  pontiiica 
finality.  Mr.  Roland  Chickweed,  in  an  open  letter  to  tlu 
Press,  affirms  that  the  book  has  moved  him  to  frequen 
tears ;  and  to  any  one  who  knows  that  redoubtable  publishe 
the  assertion  speaks  volumes  for  the  soul-shaking  qualit) 
of  Mr.  Jungsen's  prose.  The  volume  will  be  bound  in  lini] 
moleskin  and  will  contain  a  portrait  of  tho  author  in  fane; 
dress  as  Caesar  Borgia. 

Mr.  Lemuel  Poi'f,  to  whom  we  shall  be  always  gratefu 
for  his  vivid  romance,  The  Man  with  the  Single  Spat,  ha 
completed  a  new  novel  which  the  Odders  will  shortl1 
publish  under  the  alluring  title  of  The  Boilers.  Mr.  Oddei 
who  ought  to  know,  declares  that  it  is  the  most  arrestin 
study  of  miasmatic  decadence  that  has  yet  appeared  i 
English.  Mr.  Poff,  it  should  be  remembered,  is  the  autho 
of  that  memorable  reply  to  a  critic  who  begged  him  t 
abstain  from  excessive  realism.  "Why,"  he  gaily  observed 
"all  my  books  are  Bowdlerized — or  at  least  Baudelahized. 


Ai'im.  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


231 


RESOURCE. 

(I [mi-  Mi. is  Browne,  wlwss  simple  appearance  attracted  too  much  attention,  made  herself  incompicuoui 

at  Monte  Carlo.) 


262 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  I/)NDON_CIIAIIIVAKI 


[ArniL  2,  1913. 


"I  BHOULDK'T  CRY  IP  I  WERE  TOC,  LirrtB  MAN." 


"  MUST  DO  SOMFIKG  ;  I  BF.AN'I  OLD  ENOUGH  TO  SWEAR." 


THE   TUENCOAT. 

SMOOTH  as  spun  silk  old  Nilus  gleamed, 

The  palms,  the  huts  were  sleeping, 
When  suddenly  I  all  but  screamed — 

Part  of  my  shoe  was  creeping  t 
'Twas  a  chameleon,  glossy  black 

To  match  the  shoe,  with  traces 
Of  diaper  upon  his  back, 
A  meshed  and  interwoven  track 

To  represent  the  laces  I 

He  left  my  shoe  and  crossed  my  sock ; 

I  chuckled,  "That'll  trouble  you  1 
That  sharp  steel-blue,  that  netted  clock 

Crowned  with  a  golden  W., 
Which  stands  for  '  William,'   do  you 
see?— 

'Twas  her  fair  hand  that  neatly 
Embroidered  it  in  filigree — " 
I  gasped  in  sheer  amazement ;  ha 

Had  matched  the  thing  completely  1 

"A  mug's  game  this,"  ho  s?emed  to 
sigh ; 

"Haven't  you  something  harder?  " 
Then  spied  my  tweeds,  and  instant!  y 

Came  scrambling  up  with  ardour; 


Those  tweeds,  each   thread  of  which 

betrays 

The  Hebridoan  croffcor, 
Whose  craft   alone  might  bland  that 

maze 

Of  filmy  greens  and  silver-greys, 
Like  lichened  rocks  (hut  softer). 

) 
"  Come  now,"  he  muttered,  changing 

fast, 

"  We  'vo  left  the  kindergarten : 
Here's  something  worth  my  while  at 

last, 

Almost  as  good  as  tartan." 
Then  all  his  limbs  together  drew 

And  passed  into  a  coma, 
Whence  slowly,  gradually  grow 
Each  separate  thread  and  lino  and  hue — 
Even  the  peat  aroma  1 

WTith  all  an  artist's  calm  delight 

He  turned  to  view  the  colour — 
This  grey  perhaps  a  thought  too  bright  ? 

At  once  he  made  it  duller. 
Then  with  an  eye  that  gleamed  with  zest 

He  turned  towards  me — "No\v,  Sir, 
Pray  tell  me,  could  the  very  best 
Tailor  in  all  your  woolly  West 

Have  better  matched  that  trouser  ?  " 


Hard  by  there  lay  a  Morning  Post. 

There,  on  a  speech  of  CARSON, 
I  set  him  doari  amid  the  host 

Of  threats  of  blood  and  arson. 
"  Now  watch,"  I  cried,  "what  he  will  do ; 

Mark  how  the  little  fellow 
Will  take  the  authentic  Oran«e  hue. 
And  all  his  loyal  back  imbrue 

With  Ulster's  splendid  yellow." 

His  foot  was  near  to  "  Too  the  lino !  " 

His  tail  ran  down  to  "  Traitor !  " 
Aback-bench  interjection — "  Swino! " 

Was  hard  by  his  equator. 
The  change  began,  a  mingled  sheen, 

Warm  hues  that,  growing  cooler, 
At  length  let  all  his  back  be  soon 
One  blatant  and  detested  GREEN — 

He  was  a  vile  Homo  Euler  I 


"  When  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in  1850  was 
calling  attention  to  Kngl.ind'.s  defenceless  con- 
dition, just  as  Lord  Roberts  is  calling  attention 
to  a  similar-  stato  of  things  to-day,  Kendal 
supplied  a  rifle  corps  in  next  to  no  time." 
Evening  News. 

We  must  all  rejoice  that  Lord  ROHERTS 
is  not  so  handicapped  as  was  tho  Dako 
of  WELLINGTON  in.  1859. 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  GHAIUVARI.— Arnir,  2,  1913. 


SETTLED. 

DAJIE  EUROPA.  "  YOU  'YE     ALWAYS     BEEN    THE     MOST     TROUBLESOME     BOY     IN     THE 
SCHOOL.     NOW    GO    AND   CONSOLIDATE    YOURSELF." 

TURKEY.  "PLEASE,    MA'AM,    WHAT    DOES   THAT    MEAN?" 

DAME  EUROPA.  "  IT    MEANS    GOING    INTO    THAT    CORNER— AND    STOPPING   THERE  I " 

[Sir  EDWARD  GKKT,  la  the  Ilousa  of  Commons,  lias  expressed  tho  hops  that  Turkey  will  now  confine  its  energies  to  consolidating 
itself  in  Asia  Minor.] 


Ai-ifir,  2,  1!) l.'J.l 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   ClfAIM  V.\  IM. 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(KXTKACTKD   FROM    Till;    DlAllY    OK   TOBY,    M.P.) 


. 


House  of  Commons,  Easter  Monday, 
—Whilst  London  makes  holiday  at 
Hampstead  and  eke  at  Greenwich  the 
faithful  Commons,  like  the  whining 
schoolboy  with  his  satchel  and  shining 
morning  face,  creep  unwillingly  to 
school  at  Westminster.  Story  set  afloat 
that  the  Opposition  have  arrange:! 
ambush,  meaning  at  unexpected  mo- 
ment to  swoop  down  and  defeat 
Government  on  snap  division.  Only 
their  fun.  Fair  muster  on  Ministerial 
Benches  ;  Opposition  camp  practically 
deserted. 

Notable  absence  discovered  when,  on 
looking  towards  the  Chair,  Members 
find  it  occupied  by  DEPUTY  SPEAKER. 
Universal  sorrow  on  hearing  explana- 
tion that  the  SPEAKER  has  met  with 
motor  accident,  spraining  his  right 
wrist  and  compelling  temporary  retire- 
ment. Nasty  accident,  but  does  not 
chill  glow  of  native  humour.  SARK 
tells  me  that  since  coming  down  to 
House  he  has  received  a  note  from 
Si'i:\Ki;u's  house,  evidently  dictated. 
By  the  I  ypi'd  signature  JAMES  LOWTHEU 
is  written  "  his  mark." 

As  SAHK  says,  not  the  first  time  this 
bc'.'ii  done.  Mr.  LOWTHF.K  made  his 
mark  long  ago  as  Chairman  of  Com- 
mittees, cutting  it  deeper  when  ho 
came  to  the  Chair.  No  light  task  to 


A  QUIET  DAY  AT  WESTMINSTER. 

sustain  traditions  of  that  lofty  pedestal. 
Success  requires  possession  of  rare 
qualities  seldom  centred  in  an  indi- 
vidual. Mr.  LOWTHER,  occasionally 
tried  in  difficult  circumstances  suddenly 
sprung  upon  the  Chair,  has  never  been 
found  wanting. 

In  spite  of  slack  attendance  (perhaps 
by  reason  of  it)  great  stroke  of  business 
accomplished.  First  Order  of  Day, 
Report  of  Vote  on  Account  for  trifle 
excesding  thirty-four  million  sterling 
for  Civil  Service  and  Revenue  Depart- 
ments. Vote  for  reduction  formally 
moved  with  object  of  raising  debate  on 
j  various  Labour  questions.  Not  pressed 
I  to  a  division  and  money  asked  for 
granted. 

Army  votes  came  next,  making  pro- 
vision for  185,600  men  of  all  ranks 
comprising  land  forces.  Bit  of  a  breeze 
between  JOYNSON-HICKS  and  WAU 
MINISTER  on  subject  of  aeroplanes. 
After  long  silence  under  charges  of 
traitorous  neglect  of  National  safety  in 
matter  of  military  aviation,  SICKLY  the 
other  day  confounded  hostile  critics  by 
plain  tale  showing  that  so  far  from 
being  behind  other  nations  in  this 
respect  the  country  is  for  its  own 
special  purposes  actually  ahead  of 
possible  rivals.  For  a  while  this  gave 
'  pause  to  patriots  rooted  in  conviction 


that  in  no  conceivable  circumstances 
can  their  own  country  chance  to  be  on 
the  right  path. 

To-night  JOYNSON-HICKS  out  again 
on  the  old  hunt.  SEELY  stated  that 
the  Service  had  at  its  command  101 
aeroplanes  of  the  highest  capacity  and 
efficiency. 

"Yes,"  said  JOYNSON-HICKS  shrewdly, 
"  but  can  they  fly  ?  " 

For  a  moment  this  inquiry  cast 
damper  over  House.  DUHNIKG-LAW- 
KENCE,  looking  on  from  Distinguished 
Strangers'  Gallery,  remembered  that  in 
line  of  thought  and  turn  of  phrase  it  is 
not  quite  original.  In  slightly  differing 
form  BACON  used  it  in  a  famous  scene 
from  King  Henry  IV. 

"I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty 
deep,"  Glendowcr  boasted. 

"But  will  they  come  when  you  do  call 
for  them  ?  "  retorted  practical-mindo  I 
Hotspur.  (War  Office  has  at  command 
101  Hying  machines.  But  can  they 

fly?) 

Confidence  re-established  by  SEELY'B 
emphatic  reply  and  vote  agreed  to 
without  division. 

Business  done. — A  good  deal. 

Tuesday. — Colonel  WESTON,  r.e\\ly 
returned  for  Kendal,  presented  himself 
to  take  oath  and  scat.  Caution  of 
old  campaigner  indicated  by  fact  that 


266 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHASIVARL 


[Arair,  2,  1913. 


ho  selected  for  bodyguard  two  of  the 
tallest,  most  stalwart  Members.  Cir- 
cumstances of  his  election  peculiar. 
Standing  as  Candidate  wearing  the 
colours  of  a  Tarty  which,  as  Lord 
DERBY  said  the  other  day,  is  firmly 
i  c-united  on  Tariff  Reform  question,  ho 
declared  himself  a  Free  Trader,  aad  was 
straightway  renounced  by  t ho  Tarty 
Organisation.  His  reception  conse- 
quently dubious  in  i.^ticipation. 

Walking  up  to  Table  between  CAVEN- 
DISH BENTINCK  and  SANDERSON— Duke 
of  York  Columns  of  the  Unionist  Part)-— 
his  figure,  unduly  stunted  by  contrast, 
was  at  least  safe.  When  thus  escorted 
he  crossed  the  Bar,  there  burst  forth 
a  demonstration  without  parallel  in 
memory  of  oldest  Member.  The 
COLONEL  bad  not  only  beaten  off  the 
Liberal  Candidate,  but  had  increased 
the  Unionist  majority.  Following 
ordinary  practice,  hero  was  established 
claim  to  a  Party  welcome  even  wanner 
than  ordinary.  \  . 

Opposition  remained  ominously  dumb. 
Uncanny  silence  was,  after  almost  im- 
perceptible pause,  broken  by  hilarious 
burst  of  cheering  from  the  Ministerialists, 
echoed  from  benches  below  Gangway 
opposite  crowded  by  Irish  National- 
ists. Cheering,  mingled  with  laughter, 
continued  during  the  march  to  the 
Table;  renewed  when  new  Member 
was  introduced  to  SPEAKKB  and  retired 
to  find  a  place  among  the  silent  ranks 
of  the  Opposition. 

CLERK  OF  THE  HOUSE  unexpectedly 
rounded  off  excellent  bit  of  fooling.  As 
soon  as  Member  for  Kendal  disappeared 
Orders  of  the  Day  were  called  on.  Sir 
GOURTENAT  J.LBERT,  rising,  named  the 
first  on  list — 

"  Mental  Deficiency  Bill." 

This  one  of  those  little  jokes  whose 
subtlety,  inexplicable  to  outsiders, 
hugely  delights  Members.  To  attempt 
to  dissect  it  would  be  hopeless.  There 
it  was.  Renewed  roar  of  laughter 
burst  forth.  Joined  in  by  Opposition, 
it  exceeded  in  heartiness  what  had  gone 
before. 

Business  done. — Consolidated  Fund 
Bill  read  a  second  time.  FOREIGN  SEC- 
RETARY seized  opportunity  of  making 
important  statement  heralding  speedy 
settlement  of  War  in  the  Balkans. 

Wednesday. — "  Such  larks,"  as  Joe 
Gargcry  used  to  say  to  Pip  in  their 
confidential  chats. 

House  met  in  anticipation  of  hearing 
the  WINSOME  WINSTON  expound  his 
Naval  policy  for  forthcoming  year. 
Benches  crowded,  notably  on  Opposi- 
tion side.  Before  WINSTON  rose 
Ministers  thought  it  well  to  get  the 
Consolidated  Fund  Bill  through  Com- 
mittee stage.  A  mere  formality. 
Opposition  had  had  full  run  on  Second 


Reading.     So  with  light  heart  House 

rot  into  Committee. 

'  "Clause  I.,"  said  the  Chaivman.  "The 
question  is  that  Clause  I.  stand  part  of 

the  Bill." 

Ministerialists  hardly  took  the  trouble 
to  cry  "  Yes  1  "  Of  course  it  would  be 
agreed  to,  seeing  that  it  is  the  opera- 
tive clause  without  which  the  Bill  must 
ho  dropped  and  the  whole  services  of 
the  State,  civil  and  military,  come  to  a 
standstill.  Sharp  on  the  perfunctory 
'•Yes  I "  of  Ministerialists  followed 
thunderous  cry  of  "  No ! "  from  the 
massed  ranks  in  Opposition. 


The  new  boy  from  Kondal. 

Sudden  light  broke  over  Treasury 
Bench.  Trapped  again!  Opposition 
evidently  mustered  in  full  number. 
Ministerialists,  not  suspecting  danger, 
were  at  the  moment  actually  in  a 
minority.  If  division  were  forthwith 
taken  the  Government  would  bo  de- 
feated, and  must  go,  carrying  with 
them  the  tottered  fabric  of  their  ini- 
quitous schemes. 

BOOTH,  fresh  from  protecting 
ATTORNEY  -  GENERAL  in  Committee 
Room  from  attack  by  DENNISON 
FABER,  saved  the  situation.  If  division 
could  bo  delayed  for  half-an-hour, 
even  fifteen  minutes,  the  straggling 
stream  of  Ministerialists  would  add 
sufficient  force  to  swamp  the  Opposition. 

Even  as  he  spoke,  amid  useful  inter- 
ruption which  nndesignedly  helped  to 
serve  his  purpose,  it  seemed  it  was  already 
achieved.  ILLING  WORTH,  running  in  from 
Whips'  room,  was  understood  to  bring 
tidings  that  the  majority  was  assured. 
"To  mak  siccar,"  as  the  Scottish 
chieftain  explained  when  he  went  back 


to  thrust  his  dirk  in  the  throat  of  the 
king's  enemy  already  slain,  MASTEHMAN 
rose  to  n  Id  a  few  words.  Interposition 
met  by  angry  cries  from  gentlemen 
opposite  who  saw  their  triumph  slip- 
ping away.  These  merged  in  roar  of 
execration  when  MASTEBMAN  scornfully 
alluded  to  "some  things  too  discredit- 
able even  for  a  discredited  Opposition." 

There  followed  uproarious  scene, 
ended  by  a  division  which  gave  the 
Government,  but  lately  in  extreme 
peril,  a  majority  of  39. 

After  this  it  was  something  of  an 
anti-climax  for  MOORE  of  North  Armagh 
to  get  suspended  for  describing  action 
of  MASTKRMAN  as  "  a  piece  of  disgraceful 
trickery,"  and  for  ALBERT  MARKHAM, 
not  to  be  out  of  the  joy-ride,  to 
beseech  honourable  gentlemen  opposite 
"  not  to  make  the  House  of  Commons 
into  a  pot-house." 

On  successive  divisions  Government 
majority  ran  up  to  113  and  133.  Order 
reigned  in  Westminster.  But  eight 
o'clock  had  struck  when,  in  a  com- 
paratively thin  House,  WINSTON  rose 
to  make  his  long-expected  speech. 

Business  done.— Consolidated  Fund 
Bill  passed  through  Committee  and 
Report  stages.  FIRST  LORD  OF 
ADMIRALTY  explained  Navy  Votes. 


"  SING  A  SONG  OF- 


(From  the  Treble-Dutch) 
["The  directors  of  the  Naamloozo Vennoot- 
schap  Maatschappy  tot  Mynbosch  en  Land- 
bouwexploitatio  in  Langkat,  Sumatra,  have 
declared  a  first  interim  dividend  of  0110  tael 
per  share." — Daily  Express.] 

ONCE  to  cut  a  little  dash 

Uncle  James — unlike  Papa  te- 
nacious grown  of  hoarded  cash — • 
Flung  his  savings  in  the  Naamlooze 
.Vennootschap  Maatschappy  tot 
Mynbosch  en  Landbouwexploitatie. 

"Soon,  I  hope,"  cries  George,  "we'll 

wed ! 

Listen  1 " — Kate,  beside  her  ma,  tea 
Over,  waits  and  hears  it  said,  • 

"  I  've  a  holding  in  the  Naamlooze 
Vennootschap  Maatschappy  tot 
Mynbosch  en  Landbouwexploitatie. 

Odd — our  whims !    As  Aunt  and  friend, 
Golfing  near  their  German  spa,  tee 
Up,  dear  Aunt  resolves  to  send 

At  once  for  holdings  in  the  Naam- 
looze Vennootschap  Maatschappy 
tot  Mynbosch  011  Landbouwex- 
ploitatie. 

•»          *          *          *  * 

Uncle  trills  a  joyous  lay ; 

George,  with  lover-like  (ha !  ha !)  te- 
merity, demands  "  the  day." 

Auntie's  rich.     All  thank  the  Naam- 
looze Vennootschap  Maatschappy 
tot  Mynbosch  en  Landbouwex- 
ploitatie. 


AntiT,  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


207 


'Bee-master  (to pupil  wlw  IMS  just  bruslied  off  bee  which  IMS  stung  him).  "  AH  !   YOU  SHOULDN'T  DO  THAT  ;    THE  BEE  WILL  DIE  NOW. 

YOU   SHOULD  HAVE  HELPED  HER  TO  EXTRACT  HEB  STING,  WHICH  IS  SP1BALLY  BABBED,    BY  GENTLY  TUBNING  HER  BOUND   AND  BOUND." 
Pupil.    "ALL  VERY  WELL  FOB  YOU,    BUT  HOW   DO  I  KNOW   WHICH  WAY   SHE   UNSCREWS?" 


THE  ADDEESS. 

HAROLD  is  on3  of  the  very  worst 
imbeciles  I  have  ever  met. 

I  don't  say  this  merely  because  I 
happen  to  live  with  him,  but  after  a 
long  course  of  infallible  proof* 

My  friend  Mrs.  Weston  gives  dances, 
but  in  other  respects  she  is  quite  nice. 
I  dined  there  three  weeks  ago  and  was 
secured  for  one  of  her  dances.  As  I 
was  going  away,  she  said : 

"  Can  you  bring  another  man  with 
you?" 

I  thought  a  moment.  "  Yes,"  I  said, 
"  I  will  bring  Harold,  alive  or  dead." 

"  Give  me  his  name  and  address,  then, 
and  I  '11  send  him  a  card." 

Harold  believes  that  he  has  given  up 
dancing.  When  he  received  the  card 
he  looked  as  if  his  past  had  risen  and 
struck  him  in  the  face.  When  I  ex- 
plained, I  thought  he  was  going  to  do 
the  same  for  me. 

"  1  'in  sorry,"  I  said,  "  but  I  've 
promised  you  now." 

"  You  talk  as  if  you  were  my  god- 
fathers and  godmothers,"  he  said 
bitterly. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  only  your  fairy  god- 
mother. One  man  can't  do  every- 
thing ;  but  I  assure  you  both  Mrs. 


Weston  and  her  dances  are  charming, 
and  as  for  the  supper,  rcchcrclid  isn't 
the  word  for  it." 

"  I  'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Harold, 
"  for  it  is  a  bad  word." 

Finally  he  consented  to  go. 

I  spent  the  next  ten  days  asking 
Harold  whether  he  had  answered  the 
invitation.  On  the  eleventh  he  actually 
began  toying  with  some  notepaper.  I 
was  just  going  out  when  this  occurred, 
but  I  stayed  to  dictate  a  nice  apologetic 
little  note  about  his  having  just  got 
back  from  Switzerland,  and  wrap  it  up 
in  a  neat  envelope. 

As  I  went  out  he  shouted  after  me : 
"  What 's  the  address  ?  " 

Our  cards  had  been  lost  and  I  have 
never  remembered  an  address  in  my 
life.  I  have  only  one  answer  to  such 
questions. 

"  Look  it  up,"  I  said,  "  in  the 
Telephone  Directory." 

When  I  came  back  he  had  an  air  of 
guilty  self-satisfaction. 

"  Did  you  post  that  letter,  Harold  ?  " 
I  asked  sternly. 

"  I  did,"  said  Harold. 

Some  days  later  I  found  a  letter  on 
Harold's  plate  from  the  KING.  It  was 
marked  "  .Returned  Postal  Packet." 

Harold  carne  down  at  last ;  and  his 


face  as  he  opened  it  was  a  study  of 
innocent  wonderment. 

"  Gracious  !  "  he  said.  "  Look  at 
that !  " 

He  handed  the  contents  to  me,  and 
I  looked.    It  was  a  rather  tired-looking 
letter  addressed  as  follows : — 
MKS.  WESTOX, 

94023  Post  Office 
HAMPSTEAD. 

Harold  did  not  go  to  the  dance  alive 
after  all ;  but  I  very  nearly  took  him 
dead. 

"  It  may  be  trite  and  common-place,  though 
fitting,  to  quote  the  well-known  Wordsworthian 
couplet  that  the  '  lives  of  great  men  all  remind 
us  how  to  make  our  lives  sublime."  " 

Hamilton  Advertiser. 

No,  no ;  these  Wordsworthian  couplets 
are  always  fresh  to  us. 

"Lost,  Tuesday,  between  Wallasey-rd., 
Moseley-avenue,  Valkyrie-rd.  Finder  suitably 
rewarded." — Aavt.  i»  "Liverpool  Eclto." 

Oh,  the  many  days  we  have  lost  and 
never  hope  to  have  again  1  (Senti- 
mental reflection.) 

From  a  description  of  the  Labrador 
retriever  in  Tlie  Gamekeeper : — 

"  The  tail  should  ba  on  the  short  side." 
It  looks  better  on  the  end. 


268 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE  LONDON   CHAE1VATJ. 


[APRIL  2.  1913. 


"THE    HAPPY   ISLAND." 

(.1  Memory,  in  Two  Scenes,  of 

Mr.  J.  B.  FAG  AX'S  play 

at  His  Majesty's.) 

SCENE  I.  —  A  Room  in  Andrew 
inington's  lionst.  Andrew  and  his 
Wife  are  discovered  chat  tiny  over 
tlieir  coffee. 

Andrew.  By  the  way,  dear,  if  you 
can  spare  me  a  moment,  I  should  just 
like  to  tell  you  about  my  island. 

Clair  (bored).  Why? 

Andrew.  Well,  dash  it,  the  audience 
has  got  to  know  somehow.  Besides, 
you  invested  that  hundred  for  me  in 
Aerated  Breads  so  cleverly  when  I  was 
away  that  I  have  decided  to  consult 
you  in  all  my  business  affairs  iti  future. 

Clair.  Oh,  go  on. 

Andrew.  Well,  briefly  the  situation  is 
this.  There's  a  pitch-blende  mine  in 
this  island,  and  if  I  could  only  get  the 
natives  to  work  it  I  could  make  millions. 
But  they  won't  ;  they  're  afraid  of  it. 
I  tried  for  eight  months  to  make  them, 
and  it  was  no  good.  (Coming  closer  to 
her.)  But,  darling,  a  very  strange 
thing  happened  to  me  in  those  eight 
months.  I  don't  know  if  it  was  some- 
tiling  in  the  air  ...  or  in  the  pitch- 
blende ...  or  what,  but  I  found  that 
I  loved  you.  Clair,  dear  — 

Clair.  Don't  be  absurd,  Andrew.  You 
must  know  it  's  useless. 

Andrew  (gripping  her  It/  tlic  arm). 
Useless?  What  do  you  mean?  (His 
mind  working  rapidly.)  lla  !  You  love 
another!  I  guessed  as  much.  Some- 
body rang  you  up  from  the  Bath  Club 
just  now  —  that  's  always  suspicious. 
Who  is  lie? 

Clair  (fiercely).  Unhand  me,  Andrew. 
Our  guests  may  arrive  at  any  moment. 

[Enter  Derek  Arden    disguised    as 


Sir  IIiiBBKBT  TBKK. 

Derek.  Good  evening,  Mrs.Remmiug- 
ton. 

Clair  (loudly).  Be  careful!  He 
knows  all  ! 

Derek.  Ah!  (To  Andrew)  Good  even- 
ing, Bemmington.  I've  just  been 
hearing  at  the  Bath  Club—  (Andrew 
.iturts)  —  about  your  trouble  with  the 
natives.  What  you  ought  to  do  is  to 
send  a  really  fine  figure  of  a  man  out 
there  to  persuade  them  that  lie  is  a 
god.  Then  he  could  make  the  men 
obey  him.  (Apologetically.)  It  sounds 
Billy,  I  know. 

(letting  his  opportunity).  All 

right.     You  go. 

Derek  (surprised).  Me! 

Andrew.  And  I'll  give  you  thirty 
housand  pounds  if  you  succeed. 

Dei-ck  (to  himself).  Thirty  thousand  ! 
Let  me  see  ...  I  owe  seventeen  and 
sixpence  in  fines  at  the  Bath  Club  . 


and  twenty  thousand  to  my  other 
creditors  .  .  .  and  live  and  uiuopence 

to (Aloud)  May  I  first  talk  it  over 

with  your  wife? 

Andrew.  Do.  [Exit. 

Clair  (throwing  herself  in  his  arms). 
Derek,  darling! 

Derek.  Did  you  notice  that?  He 
wants  to  get  rid  of  me.  (Thoughtfully) 
Still  thirty  thousand  is  a  lot  of  money. 

Clair.  How  can  you  leave  me,  if  you 
love  me  ?  Take  me  away  witli  you. 

Derek.  My  dear,  I  don't  think  you 
realise  what  a  bad  man  I  am.  My 
reputation  is  notorious ;  I  have  been 
kicked  out  of  the  Stock  Exchange;  I 
am  a  well-known  cheat  at  cards;  I 


Clair.  But  you  're  still  a  member  of 
the  Bath  Club,  dear  1 


TIIE  RIVAL  DEITIES. 

Derek  (thoughtfully).  True.  There 
is  that.  .  .  .  Still,  I'm  a  waster.  I 
should  only  drag  you  down. 

Clair.  Well,  anyhow,  I  shall  insist 
on  coming  out  to  you  in  the  Third  Act. 
The  public  will  expect  it. 

Derek.  I  think  you  're  right,  dear. 
Till  then — good-bye.  (They  embrace.) 
CURTAIN. 

SCENE  II.  —  The  Island.  At  the 
entrance  to  a  cave  leading  into 
the  mine,  an  enormous  stone  idol 
stands,  reminding  one  faintly  of 
various  friends.  Derek  is  dis- 
covered u'ith  his  two  companions 
—Baxter,  an  engineer,  and  Hall, 
an  artist. 

Derek.  I  think  all  is  ready  now,  if 
you  will  kindly  summon  the  natives. 
As  soon  as  they  are  here,  1  shall  blow 
the  idol  up  with  dynamite  and  emerge 
mysteriously  from  the  cave.  The 
illusion  will  be  helped  by  the  fact  that 
the  natives  have  not  yet  seen  me ;  and 
they  will  take  me  for  a  god. 


Hall.  But  they've  seen  Baxter  and 
mo  for  four  days,  and  they  '11  know 
that  you  'ro  just  an  Englishman  like  us. 

Derek  (coldly).  You  forget  that 
you  've  been  wearing  while  shirts  with 
your  riding  breeches,  and  I  'ra  wearing 
a  blue,  one.  Besides  (with  dignity) 
L  "in  not  just  like  you.  (Proudly)  I  'm 
an  ...  actor-manager. 

Baxter.  Ye  dinna  ken,  mon — 

Hall  (in  surprise).  Are  you  a  Scots- 
man? 

Baxter.  Yes  .  .  .  when  I  remember. 

[Derek  retires  into  the  cavs.  Enter 
the  natives  in  costumes  calculated 
not  to  shock.  Then  seat  themselves 
in  a  ring  before  the  idol. 

Hall.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  must 
request  your  kind  attention  for  the  per- 
formance, which  is  now  about  to  begin. 
I  don't  suppose  you  can  understand  a 
word  I  'm  saying,  but  no  matter.  Wo 
are  about  to  present  to  you  a  new  god. 
At  the  word  "  go  I  "  your  idol  will  fall 
down  and  a  gentleman  in  a  blue  shirt 
will  appear  in  its  place.  Kindly  wor- 
ship him.  Is  the  dynamite  ready, 
Baxter?  ...  Go! 

[There  is  a  loud  explosion.  The  idol 
falls  down,  and  Sir  IlKiuuaiT 
TitEis  appears  at  the  mouth  of  the 
cave. 

Natives  (much  moved,  but  mistaking 
his  identity).  Waller,  waller,  waller, 
waller,  waller.  Wow-wow.  Waller, 
waller. 

Hall.  No,  you  idiots,  it 's  TIIEK  ! 

Derek  (holding  out  his  hands  to  them). 
Be  not  afraid  1  am  the  greatest  of 
actor-mana — I  mean,  I  am  a  great  god. 
(Going  iip  to  one  of  the  natives)  See, 
yoi  cannot  kill  me.  Take  your  spear 
and  try 

Rai.C'e. (doubtfully).  I  don't  want  to 
ruin  the  play,  Sir  HERBERT. 

Derek  (annoyed).  You  fool,  this  is 
hypnotism.  (To  the  other  natives)  See, 
he  cannot  hurt  me.  I  am  your  father 
and  mother  and  brother  and  uncle  and 
second  cousin  by  marriage.  Worship  me. 

Natives.  Waller-waller.  Wow-wow. 
Buna-hurra. 

They  worship  him  for  six  months. 

£  $  :Ii  *  :!:        _      # 

Hall  (to  Baxter  six  months  later). 
Well,  how  are  things  going  on? 

Baxter.  They  adore  him.  They  do 
whatever  he  tells  them.  They  work  in 
the  mine  or  listen  to  his  Pleasant  After- 
noon Chats  with  equal  willingness. 

Hall  (appalled).  Do  they  have  to  do 
both  ?  I  mean  .  .  .  there  ought  to  be 
a  choice. 

Baxter.  The  mine  is  verra,  verra 
deadly.  Nobody  would  work  in  it  if 
he  had  a  choice. 

Hall.  Ah,  you  haven't  heard  one  of 
his  talks.  Listen ! 

Derek  (to  natives.)  I   will   now   tell 


Arar.  2,  10I.T1 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


239 


"President  POIXCAHIJ  h:is  promised  to  t.ikc  part  this  month  in  a  delightful  ceremony  at  tho  old  school  at  Bar-le-Duo.  All  tha 
members  still  living  who  formed  in  ISTil  tho  Classo  do  lihetoriquo  are  to  meet  in  the  sarno  class-room  .  .  .  aud  reconstitute  for  an 
hour  tha  scene  of  thirty-seven  years  ago." 

Mr.  A.  It.  GILKES,  M.A.,  Headmaster  of  Dulwich  College,  in  an  interview  said,  "As  to  tho  possibility  of  President  PorxCAn£'s 
rx.'imple  lining  followed  in  England  ...  I  think  that  it  would  stimulate  them  in  every  kind  of  way  ;  and  certainly  it  would  delight  tha 
' — Daily  1'aper. 


you  about  death.  Dcatli  is  only  sleep. 
The  morning  comes  after  the  night. 
Twice  two  is — (rising  to  liis  full  height 
and  put  liny  his  hand  on  his  breast) 
fei  --bore.  My  children,  I  am  a  great 
prophet.  Isaiah  and  I  do  say  things. 
Life,  my  children,  is  not  death  .  .  . 
and  to-morrow  to-day  will  be  yester- 
day. Nc  plus  -ultra. 

n,i.rter  (clinging  obstinately  to  his 
point).  But  the  mine  is  very  deadly 
too! 

Natives.    Wow- wow.      Burra-burra. 

(iii'ut  god.  [Ejxiwt. 

l.>mk  (to  Hall).  What  shall  I  do 
now '.'  Shall  1  say  some  funny  things 
about,  this  picture  of  yours,  and  make 
tlid  pit  laugh  ;  or  shall  I  plunge  into 
the  mine  to  rescue  a  suffocated  native 
and  make  the  gallery  clap?  1  feel 
I  ought  to  do  something.  (Decides  to 
</<>  Imtli.)  Er — which  way  up  is  your 
picture? 

Hall  (remembering  jttxt  in  time,  that 
Drivk  xit ml  liis  life  in  South  Africa). 
Hii-hii!  \An  e.rploiion  in  heard. 

I  fere/,-.  An  explosion — splendid!  And 

i:»w  I  can  rescue  somebody.  (He.  dashes 

into  mine  unil  returns  icithdying  native.) 

\  Mnler  Glair  in  evening  dress. 

Cliiir.  My  hero! 

l>erek  (astonished).  Glair!  This  sur- 
prises even  me,  and  (proudly)  I  have 
had  a  good  deal  of  experience  of  the 
stage. 

('/((/>.    It's  quite  simple,   dear.      I 


came  out  with  my  husband  in  a  cruiser. 
I  don't  know  why  he  let  me  come,  but 
we  've  just  arrived.  And  I  put  on  my 
thin  satin  shoes  with  tho  high  heels, 
and  climbed  up  through  tha  forest 
to  where  I  saw  your  beacon  light. 
Haven't  I  kept  my  shoes  clean  ? 
Enter  Andrew  Eemmington. 

Andrew.  Ah,  so  you've  succeeded  in 
working  the  mine,  I  hear  ? 

Derek.  Eemmington,  that  mine  shall 
never  work.  It  is  a  deadly  place. 
Close  it  down. 

Andrew.  Certainly  not ! 

Derek  (nobly).  Then  you  can  keep 
your  thirty  thousand  pounds  .  .  .  and — 
er — my  creditors  can  keep  their  I.O.U.'s. 
The  natives  trust  mo,  and  I  shall  lead 
them  in  revolt  against  you.  They  trust 
me,  and  I  shall  not  send  them  to  their 
death  in  your  mine. 

Andrew  (annoyed).  In  that  case  I 
shall  ask  the  cruiser  to  train  some 
guns  on  you.  [Exit. 

[The  guns  arc  heard.  Enter  natal 
officers  and  bluejackets.  A  brisk 
fight  with  the  natives  takes  2>lace, 
first  one  side  and  then  the  other 
(and  then  Glair)  gaining  a  strategic 
position  in  front  of  the  audience. 

Derek  (to  the  audience  as  he.  whizzes 
across  the  stage).  If  I  am  killed,  tell 
Glair  that  1  still  love  her. 

[The  native  death-song  is  heard,  and 
Derek  Arden's  body  is  brought  in. 

Captain  Bainbrig  (sadly).  Alas,  poor 


Derek!    I  know  him  well  ...  at  the 
Bath    Club.      (Cheerily)    Well,    what 
about  getting  home  now  ? 
The  Audience  (rising).  Good  I 

CUBTAIN.        A.  A.  M. 


IF  FLOWERS  HAD  GHOSTS. 

IF  flowers  had  ghosts,  that  thin  perfume 
Of  buds  long  picked  should  haunt  your 

room — 
Your  room  that  dreams  in  ancient 

way, 
Where  beaux  have  knelt  with 

Spring's  bouquet 
For  belles  in  silk-  of  Jacquard's  loom ; 

When  wintry  fields  are  bare  of  bloom 
They  'd  come  a-tremble  from  the  tomb  ; 
You  'd  love  them  when  the  skies  were 
gray, 

If  flowers  had  ghosts ! 

So  now,  when  April  fires  the  broom 
And  cowslips  clamber  up  the  coomb, 
You  would  not — this  I  greatly  pray— 
Forget  the  friends  of  yesterday, 
Who  spoke  of  her  in  days  of  gloom, 
If  flowers  had  ghosts  ? 


"  Jingling  Bells,  which  arrest  attention  and 
hring  on  popularity,  I/-." 

Advl.  in  "  TJie  Gleaner." 

The  great  thing  is  to  get  a  good  start 
before  the  popularity  actually  ai  rives. 


270 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[ArrviL  2,  1913. 


ON    Till':    BEAUTY   OF  HAVING 
TWO  DENTISTS. 

I  USED  to  employ  them  alternately, 
with  the  strictest  impartiality.     I  may 
say  that  1  have  never  had  the  slightest 
preference  for  one  over  the  other.     Ad- 
mittedly, A.  has  a  much  better  selection 
of  maga/incs  in  his  waiting-room,  and 
I  also  prefer  his  conversation,  which  is 
remarkably  intelligent.     But  B.  fully 
compensates  for  that  by  the  excellence 
of  the  view  from  the  window  opposite 
his  chair,  and,  besides,  ho  takes   two 
daily  papers.      I   first    gave    up    the 
alternative  method  when  B.  came  to 
grief  over  a  golden  crown   which  he 
jammed  on  to  one  of  my  back  teeth, 
driving  it  home  with  a  hammer  at  con- 
siderable personal  inconvenience  to  me. 
When  it  came  off  at  the  end  of  three 
weeks,  I  should,  of  course,  have  gone 
back  to  B.    It  was  his  crown,  and  it 
was  his  business  to  see  it  through.   But 
I  was  annoyed  about  it,  and  I  went  to 
A.     It  appeared  that  he  had  a  very 
poor  opinion  of  gold  crowns.   After  that 
I  introduced  a  method  of  recognising 
merit,  which   seemed  to  me  perfectly 
fair  to  both  of  them.     On  the  whole 
I  may  say  that   it  has  worked  well. 
Whenever  either  of  them  can  put  me 
right  for  a  clear  run  without  toothache 
for  six  months  or  more — I  have  abom- 
inable teeth — I  go  back  to  him  on  the 
next  occasion.     But  if  the  run  is  less 
than   six   months  I  go  to  the   other. 
You  will  observe  that  the  scoring  is 
rather  after  the  style  of  that  adopted  at 
Racquets  or  Fives.     You  are  "  in"  just 
as  long  as  you  can  keep  on  making 
points. 

A.  and  B.  are  of  course  quite  un- 
known to  each  other.     I  maintain  the 
strictest  reticence  with  each  of  them  as 
to  my  dental  adventures  with  his  col- 
league.   Even  in  the  case  of  the  crown 
I  offered  no  explanation  as  to  how  it 
had  got  there.    But  "I  always  like  to 
observe  the  eager  way  in  which  they 
begin  by  making  a  hasty  survey  of  my 
mouth  to  see  what  has  happened  there 
since  they  last  inspected  it.    And  I 
always  imagine  them— amiable  as  they 
both  are  in  temperament — to  be  won- 
dering why  it  is  that  in  the  intervals 
between  my  visits  I  allow  some  in- 
competent bungler  to  interfere.     Per- 
haps one  or  other  would  protest,  but 
then  of  course  they  don't  know  who  it 
is.    It  might  be  the  greatest  swell  in 
the  trade— I  mean  to  say  one  of  the 
leading  specialists. 

The  upshot  is  that  my  teeth  are  well 
looked  after.  Ignorant  as  the  two 
rivals  are  of  the  precise  method  of 
scoring,  they  are  both  jolly  keen  to 
score.  They  hunt  out  every  vestige  of 
decay  in  my  mouth  and  pounce  upon 


the  slightest  discrepancy.  And  if  one 
of  them  can  find  a  hole  that  has  been 
missed  by  the  other,  he  simply  gloats. 
I  sometimes  fear  that  this  healthy 
competition  may  be  carried  too  far. 
I  mean  lo  say  that  there  is  a  danger 
that  they  will  begin  stopping  sound 
teeth  as  a  precautionary  measure,  for 
fear  tho  other  follow  will  get  hold  of 
them.  I  don't  want  to  accuse  either  of 
them  of  being  mercenary,  but  you  see 
I  am  a  sort  of  little  gold-mine  to  any 
dentist. 

And   then   I   like   to    observe   their 
little  differences  in  style  and  tempera- 
ment.    A.    is   eminently   dashing   and 
vigorous  and  scores  rapidly  all  round 
the  mouth.     He  likes  to  have  three  or 
four  teeth  in  hand  at  the  same  time, 
covering  up  one  while  he  visits  another. 
He  is  never  sure  about  B.'s  stoppings. 
He  doesn't  think  them  durable.     He 
sometimes    puts    in    some    punishing 
work   with   the   drill,    but   he   always 
makes  a  point  of  giving  you  due  notice 
before  he  hurts  you.    B.  hurts  you  first 
and  then   apologises;    he  hasn't   the 
same  pluck.    He  is  afraid  that  if  he 
gives  you  any  warning  you  will  get  out 
of  hand.     He  is  a  very  sympathetic, 
cautious,  plodding  sort  of  fellow,  and 
he  is  never  sure  about  A. 'a  stoppings; 
he  doesn't  think  them  durable.     If  he 
has  a  fault  it  is  that  he  is  altogether 
too  fond  of  that  beastly  little  wire,  like 
a  pipe-cleaner,  with  which  he  prods  for 
hidden  nerves. 

It  depends  partly  on  one's  mood. 
There  are  days  when  I  can  thoroughly 
enter  into  the  bustle  and  exhilaration 
of  A.'s  impetuous  attack;  there  are 
days  when  I  would  rather  entrust 
myself  to  the  soothing  hand  of  B. 

The  score  is  5  all  at  present  and  the 
game  is  7  up. 


THE   CHEMIST'S  DREAM. 
THREE  stars  shone  out  with  a  baleful 

glare, 

Scarlet  and  green  and  blue, 
And  a  medley  of  perfumes  smote  the  air, 
Lavender,  musk  and  rue. 

And  the  chemist  shook,  for  a  nameless 

fright 

Harried  his  evening  walk, 
And  his  face  grew  palo  in  tho  ghostly 

_light, 
Like  camphorated  chalk. 

He  was  sick  to  death,  he  was  sore  afraid, 
For  he  knew  from  his  sense  of  smell 

That  he  'd  come  to  the  dread  phenacetin 

glade 
"Where  the  Htcmogoblins  dwell. 

Swift  and  light  as  the  wind-blown  chaff 
They  crowded  the  path  he  trod, 

With  a  shriek  of  joy  and  a  ghoulish  laugh 
That  cracked  like  a  senna  pod. 

He  heard  the  patter  of  elfin  shoes, 
As  he  fled  in  that  breathless  sprint, 

And  he  felt  the  grip  of  a  deft-flung  noose 
Of  salicylic  lint. 

They  have  trussed  him  tight  with  boric 
gauze 

To  a  eucalyptus  tree, 
With  a  loofah  gag  betwixt  his  jaws 

And  a  bandage  round  his  knee. 

Cold  ran  his  blood  as  a  toilet  cream, 
And  the  sweat  like  a  perfume  spray, 

When  he  saw  the  glycero-phosphates 

gleam 
And  the  trail  of  powders  grey. 


From  a  Calcutta  catalogue : — 

"  Bioscope  is  a  wonderful  machine.  Light 
in  it  in  the  night  and  wind  up  the  machine  it 
will  present  a  living  scene,  a  terrible  fight  in 
the  field  the  soldiers  are  fighting  with  lance 
spear  and  sword.  The  horses  are  running  with 
the  speed  of  a  lightning,  some  are  groving  for 
their  lives  so  for  about  battle.  This  is  not  all  • 
Want  you  to  eye  persuit  of  dear  and  other 
ferocious  beasts  in  a  chase,  sweeming  over  the 
busom  of  an  undulating  river." 

We  shall  be  delighted. 


From   the   programme  of  the  Wy- 
combe  Electroscope : — 

"Shakespeare's    Great    Play— The     Three 

Musketeers." 

Sir    EDWIN    BURNING-LAWRENCE   has 
gone  to  High  Wycombe  to  investigate. 


"  Bootmaker  wanted,  to  make  Boots." 

Advt.  in  "J'enrith  Observer.' 
And  not  to  feed  the  goldfish. 


And  he  thought  with  grief  of  the  life 

he  'd  led, 

Of  his  homo20pathic  pills, 
Of  the  times  he  had  stolen  a  doctor's 

bread 
Prescribing  for  coughs  and  chills ; 

Of  the  poor  little  babes  who  tossed  and 

turned 

In  their  eagerness  to  toothe, 
Diminutive    mites    who    yowled    and 

yearned 
For  syrups  that  really  soothe. 

And  he  groaned  as  he  thought  of  the 

stout  and  spare 

Who  'd  sampled  his  make-shift  stuff, 
Of  the  bald  old  colonels  who  hoped  for 

hair 
On  the  strength  of  a  printed  puff. 

Then  away  to  covert  the  goblins  race, 
But  the  chief  of  the  pygmy  band 

Draws  near  with  a  smile 'on  his  wizened 

face 
And  a  nightlight  in  his  hand. 

The  fuse  is  fired,  the  flamelets  start 
On  their  journey  of  spark  and  smoke — 

When  just  at  the  really  crucial  part 
The  chemist  suddenly  woke. 

J.  M.  S. 


APIUL  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


271 


Impatient  Owner  of  Broken-down  Car.  "WHERE  THE  MISCHIEF  ARE  you  GOIXG  NOW  WITH  THAT  LAMP?" 

Lately  Converted  Groom-Chauffeur.  "  WELL,  SIB,  THAT  SHOVEB  AS  WAS  'EBB  JUST  NOW  TOLD  ME  A3  "ow  I  "D  LOST  MY  COMPBES- 

BION,   AND  I   WAS  JUST  GOING   BACK  TO   SEE  IP  I   COULD  FIND   IT  ALONG   THE  ROAD." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

MH.  JEKFERY  FARNOL  is  the  Eed  Quesn.  Never  have  I 
been  hurried  along  in  such  amazing  fashion  as  I  was  by  the 
author  of  The  Amateur  Gentleman  (SAMPSON  Low),  who, 
taking  1110  with  one  hand,  and  Barnabas  Early  with  the 
other,  showed  how  the  son  of  John  Barty  (ex-champion  of 
England  and  landlord  of  "  The  Coursing  Hound  ")  came  in 
for  a  legacy  of  seven  hundred  thousand  pounds,  went  forth 
from  liis  home  and,  confuting  his  father's  prophecy,  became 
not  the  least  of  the  Eegency  bucks.  Egad,  Sirs!  but  we 
went  the  pace.  Foiled  villains,  now  aristocrats,  now  cut- 
purses,  fell  away  behind  us  like  hoof-spurned  mud ;  romantic 
assignations,  rescues  of  the  fair,  we  took  in  our  easy  stride; 
Bow  Street  runners  shouted  helplessly  in  our  wake;  we 
diced,  we  steeplechased,  we  duelled,  for  all  but  six  hundred 
pages  without  a  pause  for  a  lemon  or  a  sponge.  And,  oh, 
the  brave  spirit  and  the  air  of  it  all.  Mr.  JEFFEKY  FARNOL 
flicks  aside  probability  with  an  elegant  handkerchief;  be 
takes  a  coincidence  as  easily  as  a  pinch  of  snuff.  He 
arranges  to  restore  a  long -lost  daughter  or  frustrate  a 
murder  between  two  mouth fuls  of  a  mighty  round  of  beef. 
Well,  well.  And  if  we  didn't  see  Barnabas  Barty  walking 
arm-in-arm  with  the  First  Gentleman  in  Europe  at  the  end, 
we  married  him  at  least  to  the  fairest  lady  in  England,  and 
what  more  do  you  want  than  that  ?  But  I  can  tell  you  I 
was  devilish  out  of  breath  before  it  was  done. 


In  The  Combined  Maze  (HUTCHINSON)  Miss  MAY  SIN- 
CLAIR lias  given  us  a  story  of  sombre  and  relentless  realism, 


set  in  the  unpromising  scenery  of  Wandsworth  and  of 
Southfields,  that  "Paradise  of  Little  Clerks."  That  the 
lower  middle  classes  may  furnish  as  good  a  theme  as  you 
can  want  for  high  romance  she  abundantly  proved  in  The 
Divine  Fire ;  but  here  she  rejects  all  beauty  of  imagination, 
except  in  the  character  of  one  girl,  a  sort  of  serious  Wendy, 
who  mothers  the  young  man  of  the  book.  This  hero,  a 
shining  light  of  the  Polytechnic  Gymnasium,  belongs  to  a 
type  hitherto,  as  far  as  I  know,  unexplored.  A  keen  and 
clean-hearted  enthusiast  for  physical  culture,  with  definite 
ideals  of  "  decency  "  and  a  profound  contempt  for  all  forms 
of  "  ilabbiness,"  he  is  the  last  person  you  would  expect  to 
fall  under  the  fascination  of  a  merely  erotic  woman.  Yet 
he  commits  this  error ;  and,  foreseeing  the  possible  result 
(as  they  never  do  in  books  or  on  the-  stage),  he  insists, 
against  her  will,  in  trying  to  repair  his  mistake  by  marriage. 
In  the  end  his  very  virtue,  assisted  by  the  worst  of  luck,  is 
his  undoing. 

I  am  so  familiar  with  Miss  SINCLAIR'S  power  of  projecting 
herself,  by  sheer  force  of  imagination,  into  circumstances 
of  which  she  cannot  have  had  any  personal  knowledge  that 
I  was  quite  prepared  for  her  to  give  me  a  very  probable 
account  of  the  sort  of  event  in  which  I  am  certain  that  she 
never  took  an  active  part — namely,  a  hurdle-race.  Buff 
for  once  her  creative  gift  was  at  fault.  I  can  assure  her, 
from  experience,  that  in  such  competitions  a  runner's 
attention  is  too  closely  fixed  upon  his  immediate  purpose 
to  be  distracted  by  the  waving  of  any  woman's  handker- 
chief. Perhaps  she  will  also  accept  my  authority  for  the 
statement  that  there  is  no  tram-line  that  goes  to  Putney 
Heath.  But  these  are  very  small  trifles ;  and  for  all  that 


27-2 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[ArniL  2,  1913. 


matters  Miss  SINCLAIR  has  a  deadly  surencss  of  touch. 
One  defect,  however,  she  retains.  In  her  passionate  anxiety 
(o  he  masculine  at  all  costs,  she  is  apt  to  overlook  the  host 
feature  of  the  male  mind — its  regard  for  reticence. 

The  house-party  that  Arnold  Calthrop  assembled  at 
Monkshill  must  have  been  a  singularly  unpleasant  one  for 
everybody,  but  more  especially  for  Madeline  Ncmnarch. 
The  position  was  that  Arnold  and  his  wifa  Lily  detested 
each  other,  but,  in  order  that  sufficient  show  of  respect- 
ability might  be  kept  up  to  allow  of  his  inclusion  in  a 
Radical  Cabinet,  they  had  agreed  to  join  forces  for  this 
entertainment.  Now  Lily,  who,  besides  being  a  fool,  drank 
heavily,  had  taken  a  violent  fancy  to  Madeline  and  insists 
that  the  lattcr's  presence  was  the  only  thing  that  would 
keep  her  responsible  during  the  week.  The  trouble  was 
that  Madeline,  as  nice  a  woman  as  need  be,  had  already 
fallen  violently  in  love  with  Calllirop  and  he  with  her.  So 
there  you  are  I  What  -should  M.  do?  I  may  add  that 
the  situation  occurs  in  The  liinlit  Honourable  Gentleman 
(CONSTABLE),  to  which  Mr.  W.  E.  Nomus  has  brought  all 
the  facility  and  lightness  of 
touch  trrat  have  so  long  en- 
deared "him  to  an  enormous 
public.  So  you  can  rest  as- 
sured that  the  Monkshill 
shoot  is  excellent  fun  for 
the  reader ;  but  as  a  partici- 
pant— no,  I  should  have  had 
a  telegram  on  the  first  morn- 
ing !  What  came  of  it  all  I 
won't  reveal ;  the  interest  is 
so  well  kept  up  by  a  suffici- 
ency of  unexpected  incidents 
that  I  should  ho  spoiling 
your  pleasure.  There  is  at 
least  one  character,  Caltlirop 
himself,  the  ex-Conservative 
who  became  a  Radical- 
Socialist,  that  ssems  worthy 
of  a  bigger  setting :  but  Mr. 
NORRIS  has  chosen  to  make 
only  a  sketch  of  him.  This 
he  has  done  very  well;  while  the  attitude  of  his  country 
neighbours  towards  the  "  traitor  "  is  wholly  realistic. 

Considering  that  Mr.  FBANKFOBT  JMoonr/s  latest  book 
is  almost  wholly  concerned  with  Miss  FANNY  BUBNEY'S 
Evelina,  he  is  perhaps  justified  in  calling  it  Fanny's  First 
Novel  (HUTCHINSON).  I  assume,  of  course,  that  Mr. 
BF.RNABD  SHAW,  as  a  matter  of  courtesy,  was  invited  to 
attend  the  christening.  I  have  so  often  praised  Mr. 
MOORE'S  books  that  I  feel  licensed  to  make  a  complaint 
about  this  one.  Why  then,  in  the  name  of  an  admirer  of 
Miss  BUBNEY,  docs  he  represent  her  brother  as  a  mere 
buffoon  ?  Poor  JAMES,  with  his  "  nautical "  wink  and  clap- 
trap, is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  figure  of  fun,  and  of 
very  insipid  fun  at  that.  In  telling  the  story  of  the  pro- 
duction of  Evelina  Mr.  MOORE  succeeds  in  conveying  the 
excitement  of  a  first  creation,  but  for  the  rest  he  is  little 
more  successful  in  his  attempt  to  make  fact  into  fiction 
than  most  novelists  are  in  trying  to  make  fiction  read  as  if 
it  were  fact.  I  like  him  best  when  he  is  not  dealing  with 
the  "  delightful  circle  which  includes  such  interesting  per- 
sonages as  Mrs.  Thrale,  Dr.  Johnson,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 
Mvid  Garrick,"  etc. ;  but  that  does  not  prevent  me  from 
«lvismg  those  who  are  inquisitive  about  Miss  BUBNEY  to 
read  this  novel— always  provided  that  they  have  never  had 
the  curiosity  to  read  Miss  BUBNEY  herself. 


TURKEY  (JUST)  IN  EUROPE. 


Mr.  E.  F.  BENSON  keeps  us  learned  clerks  very  busy,  but, 
as  far  as  I  at  any  rate  am  concerned,  ho  is  welcome.  He 
has  an  almost  uncanny  and  certainly  delightful  insight  into 
people's  mental  insides  and,  except  that  he  can  never  deny 
himself  an  aristocratic  lineage  or  two,  he  deals  in  those 
commonplace  souls  with  which  for  the  most  part  we  have 
to  live  and  which  wo  want  to  understand.  There  are  plenty 
of  them  in  The  Weaker  Vessel  (HEINEMANN),  and  there  is 
also  a  very  disturbing  clement  in  the  less  usual  Harry 
Whiltalccr,  the  brilliant  dramatist.  Meteoric  success  in  any 
line  is  an  easy  and  frequent  affair  in  novels,  but  in  his  case 
it  is  amply  justified  and  compensated ;  his  greatness  is  not 
thrust  upon  him  but  is  part  of  his  nature,  his  weak  and 
vicious  self.  The  unswerving  affection  of  his  wife,  a  virtue 
admirable  in  life  but  dullish  to  contemplate  in  the  ordinary 
way,  is  made  remarkable  hero  by  her  intimate  knowledge  of 
his  failings,  his  love  of  the  bottle  and  the  other  woman  in 
particular.  Eleanor  is  as  startling,  yet  credible,  as  Harry 
up  to  a  point ;  it  is  only  when  she  takes  to  the  stage  and 
leaps  into  immediate  and  remunerative  popularity  herself 
that  one  begins  to  have  one's  doubts  of  her.  This  she  should 

never  have  done  or  been 
allowed  to  do;  it  interferes 
with  one's  enjoyment  of  Mr. 
.BENSON'S  deft  analysis  of  a 
gifted  author's  exterior  and 
interior  circumstances,  a 
thing  which  everyone  who 
has  ever  set  pen  to  paper 
(and  who  has  not,  nowa- 
days?) will  thoroughly  ap- 
preciate. There  arc.l  reckon, 
about  132,650  words  in  the 
book,  but  only  one  of  them  I 
am  inclined  to  criticise. 
Marian  Anstruthcr,  wicked, 
wicked  woman  though  she 
was,  had  no  business,  even 
when  confronted  with  her 
wickedness,  to  bow  "steelily." 
Except  for  that  one  lapse, 
she  was  a  splendid  figure 
and  by  far  the  most  real  of 
the  theatrical  celebrities  who  intervened.  Even  in  cold 
print  she  fascinated  rne  dangerously. 


A  Good  Offer. 


"  An  educated  and  well-accomplished  girl  wanted  for  a  boy 
aged  '26,  whose  wife  has  recently  died  with  Pneumonia.  Tho  boy 
is  Ui  ghar  Kapur,  strong,  stout  and  beautiful." 

Advt.  in  "Lahore  Trilime." 

We    thought  for  a  moment    that   "ghar  Kapur"  meant 
"  round  the  waist,"  but  obviously  it  doesn't. 

From  the  Easter  Signalling  Notes  issued  to  Territorials 
of  the  London  Division : — 

"  Smoking  is  allowed  as  long  as  it  does  not  interfere  with  the  work, 
but  when  the  D.S.O.  or  any  senior  officers  approach  tho  station  it 
would  be  as  well  if  they  were  removed  for  the  time  .being." 

We  hope  somebody  will  ask  a  question  about  this  direct 
incitement  to  mutiny. 


'This  is  the  reason  why  Montenegro,  while  allowing  the  Aivli- 
bishop  of  Pmrend  to  inquire  about  the  alleged  murder  of  a  Catholic 
priest  near  Ipek,  has  objected  to  an  Austrian  Consul  being  despatched 
with  him."— Daily  Telegraph. 

We  suspect  that  the  chief  objection  to  his  being  despatched 
with  the  Catholic  priest  came  from  the  Austrian  Consul. 


Amir.  <>,  ]!ti:j.] 


1TNCH.   (,)li   TIIH   LONDON   CIIAIM V.MM. 


273 


CHARIVARIA. 

THK    ]'i!ixcn    OP    WAT.KS 


ido    a 


lightning  totir  of  Frankfurt  (ho  other 
cluy,    exploring    the   cathedral    in    five 
iniiiulcs,    and    there   is   some   talk   of 
milking  him  an  honorary  American. 
•:••  •:: 

A  Bill  lo  prohibit  the  use  of  motor- 
cars for  (he  conveyance  of  electors  to 
or  from  the  poll  has  heen  introduced  l>\ 
Sir  CHAHLMS  HKNKY.  It  is,  of  course, 
extremely  annoying  to  bo 
continually  asked  to  lend 
one's  car  for  this  purpose. 


It  is  denied  that  Admiral 
Sir  PIMICY  SCOTT  intends  to 
seek  election  for  Parliament. 
He  is  reported  to  have  ex- 
pressed the  view  that  the 
best,  Admirals  do  not  enter 
Parliament. 

n*      *P 

Complaint  has  heeu  made 
on  the  grouse  moors  in  the 
(llcnesk  district  of  Fprfar- 
shire  that  the  birds  fly  away 
at  the  noisy  approach  of  an 
aeroplane.  The  military  au- 
thorities express  the  opinion 
thai  the  grouse  will  gradually 
become  accustomed  to  the 
flying  machines.  Should  this 
not  prove  to  he  the  case,  the 
air  branch  of  our  army  will 
of  course  be  dropped,  for  it 
must  not  bo  allowed  to 
interfere  with  sport. 

The  steam  cutter  of  II. M.S. 
Imptrieuse,  the  depot  ship  at 
Portland,  was  missing  one 
ilay  lasl  week,  and  it  was 
ascertained-  by  a  diver  that 
she  had  rubbed  a  hole  in  her 
side  against  the  piles  of  the 
coaling  dock,  and  then  filled 
and  gone  down.  Locally  it 
is  considered  a  clear  case  of 
suicide,  for  the  Impcrieuse 
wus  to  be  sold  out  of  the 
service  next  month,  and  the 
cutter  evidently  preferred 
dishonour.  


A  pathetic  incident  is  reported  from  |  takes   place    and   a   husband  discovers 
Peterborough.      In    the    stomach   of   ti    one    fine,    morning    that    his    wife    h;m 
bullock   which   was    slaughtered    there   gone  out  in  his  golfing  suit  1 
were  found  a  sovereign,  a  shilling,  and  •'••^•' 

a  halfpenny.  The  poor  beast  is  sup-  •  Any  allemp1  to  brighten  up  the 
posed  to  have  been  putting  money  by  "Hatches,  Mutches  and  Dispatches" 
for  his  old  age,  and  il  is  hard  that  lie  Columns  of  our  newspapers  is  to  bo 


should  have  died  without  being  able  to 
enjoy  bis  little  savings.       .     . 

Oh,  these  modern  mothers !     Kitty, 


welcomed,  urul  we  tender  our  guileful 
thanks  to  the  couple  whose  marriage 
was  announced  in  '/'//<•  'I'inirn  last  we  el; 
under  the  heading,  "  J;INK-CTKK."  If 


the  giraffe  at  the  Zoo,  is  refusing  to.  ever  there  was  ' an  ideal  union,  surely 

-  we  have  it  here. 

.  From  Senlis,  in  Franco, 
comes  the  news  of  the  dis- 
appearance in  the  night  of 
the  clock  of  the  •famous 
church  of  Noel  St.  Martin. 
Time  flies. 

We  are  glad  to  hear  that 
the  Bishop  of  GAHLISI.K  was 
wrongly  reported  in  a  con- 
temporary as  stating  that  he 
was  considering  whether  it 
would  not  be  wise  to  make 
"  vice  culture  "  a  condition  of 
ordination.  It  should  have 
been  "  voice  culture." 


BIVAL 
OTOR^ 

CHEAPEST 


OCEAN  PETROL  STATIONS. 

A   NECESSITY   OV    1UK    VV1VJIK    FOR    CROSS-ATLANTIC    AIIIMKX,    AND 


AN    OrrOHTVNITY    AFFORDING 
MKRCIAf,  ENTERPRISE. 


AM1T.K    SCOI'K    FOR    COMPETITIVE    COM- 


death    to 


"  ILLUMINATED    PILLAR-BOXES 

CANADA    SETS    AN    EXAMPLE  " 

Thus    The   D/WMVT.     But   surely 


our 


Suffragettes  deserve  the  credit  for  the 


innovation? 


*  * 


"  The  result  of  a  poll  by  The  Em  of 
the  actresses  of  England  on  the  subject 
of  women's  votes  was,"  we  are   told, 
4  in  favour,  32(i  against,  and  8l.r) 
indifferent."     \V'e  are  shocked  to  hear  are  marching  towards  the  fusion  of  the 


feed  her  baby,  who  is  now  being  brought 
up  on  the  bottle.       ... 

A  correspondent  describes  in  The 
E.fprcus  a  new  method  of  keeping  a 
weather  record,  giving  each  day  good 
or  bad  marks  according  to  its  pleasant- 
ness or  unpleasantness.  We  fancy, 
however,  that  if  an  improvement  is  to 
be  effected  much  sterner  measures  than 
these  will  have  to  be  adopted. 
%  _  * 

M.   LKOX   BAKST  considers  that  we 


that  thero    are    so    many 
actresses  in  this  count rv. 


inditVorent   masculine  and  feminine  costumes.    And 
i  a  pretty  row  there  will  be  if  the  fusion 


A   DISPASSIONATE, 
CONVEESATION. 

"WHEN  I  was  quite  ft 
young  man,"  he  said,  "I 
used  to  write  down  every 
evening  before  I  went  to  bed 
some  humorous  anecdote, 
and  I  kept  up  the  custom  for 
many  years.  That  is  how  I 
became  a  bore.  How  did  you 
manage  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said; 
"I  think  I  was  born  that 
way.  Not  that  I  am  a  bore 
in  the  sense  that  you  are  a 
bore." 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  replied 
briskly,  "otherwise  I  should 
find  you  better  company.  It 
is  the  passive  element  in  you 
which  I  find  so  disturbing. 
Your  disconcerting  silences ;  or  that 


awful   solitary  '  Yis,' 
than-any  silence." 


which   is    worse 


'  Yes,"  I  said. 
1  Now  the  men 


I  meet  at  the  club," 


he  continued,  "  the  real  professionals, 
who  imagine  that  a  game  of  bridge  or 
a  round  of  golf  can  l>e  talked  about — 
they  are  interesting,  psychologically, 
anyway,  and  at  times  their  enthusiasm 
is  almost  infectious.  But  you  are  just 
a  wet  blanket  —if  I  may  use  the  term 
without  offence — a  bore  without  the 
courage  of  his^  convictions." 

"  I    have    no  convictions,"   I   said, 
"  except  that  I  am  a  bore." 


V:  I*       .-•  '.•  i   t 


274 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARL 


[APRIL  9,  1913. 


A    SAD    BUSINESS. 

"  LISTEN  to  this,  Francesca,"  I  said. 
••  Will  it  take  long  ?  "  she  replied.    • 
l>c  very  busy." 


Because  1  happen  to 


1  And  that,"  I  said,  "  is  just  what  you  ought  to^be  if  you 
are  to  appreciate  what  I  ani  going  to  read  to  you." 

"  Come  on,  then,"  she  said  ;  "  let  us  get  it  over  quickly." 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  I  said,  "  that  I  like  that  tone.  It  does 
not  strike  me  as  sympathetic." 

She  opened  her  eyes  wide,  parted  her  lips,  and  yearned 
forward  towards  me.  "  Now,"  she  said,  "  you  can  proceed. 
I  ani  brimming  over  with  sympathy.  Let  me  hear  your 
sad  story  and  do  what  I  can  to  comfort  you."  . 

"  Do  not  glare  at  me,"  I  said.  "  You  discompose  me. 
There,  that's  better.  What  I  am  going  to  read  to  you  is 
from  The  Daily  News.  It  is  an  interview  .with  Mr.  H.  E. 
MORGAN,  and  it  is  all  about  the  sorrows  and  sufferings  of 
business  men." 

"  But  Tom  doesn't  suffer  much,"  she  said.  "  If  he  has 
sorrows  he  conceals  them  well." 

"  Is  your  brother  Tom  a  real  business  man  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  He  is  on  the  Stock  Exchange.  He 
knows  a  lot  about  shares  and  debentures,  and  he  plays  a 
great  deal  of  golf.  He  also  shoots  pheasants  and  disapproves 
ef  the  Government.  Oh  yes,  I  am  sure  Tom  is  a  business 
man,  and  a  high-spirited  one." 

"  But,"  I  urged,  "  he  may  have  a  secret  sorrow  all  the 
same.  Even  while  he  plays  leap-frog  with  his  companions 
in  the  Stock  Exchange  a  canker  may  be  gnawing  at  his 
vitals.  His  jests  may  be  a  mask.  You  know  the  clown 
when  he  leaves  the  theatre  and  goes  home " 

"My  brother  Tom  is  no  clown, ""she  said  with  dignity. 

"  You  must  not  catch  me  up  like  that,"  I  said.  "  How 
do  you  know  that  he  is  not  the  saddest  man  in  the  world 
when  he:is  away  from  you  in  his  lonely^home  ?  " 

"I  cannot  say,'*  she1  said.  .  "I  have  "not  yet  been  lucky 
enough  to  see  him  when  he  was  away  from  me." 

"Incorrigible 'one,"  I'  saiA  "You  are  pleased  to  be 
merry.  Now  listen  to  Mr.  H.  E.  MORGAN.  The  article  is 
headed,  '-The  Business  Man  as  Hero.  How  he  is  Hampered 
by  his  Womankind.' " 

"But  Tom,"  she  said,  "has  no  womankind.  Tom  is  a 
bacheldore,  like  Mr.  Peggolly." 

"  We  will  leave  out  Tom  and  Mr.  Peggolty,"  I  said,  "  and 
we  will  devote  ourselves  to  Mr.  MORGAN." 

"No,"  ahe  said,  "I  will  not  devote  myself  to  Mr.  MORGAN. 
I  will  do  much  for  you,  but  not  that." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  shall  not  escape  me.  You 
shall  hear  what  this  man  says." 

"  I  have  been  pining  to  "hear  it  for  half-an-hpur,"  she 
said,  "  but  you  have  refused  to  gratify  me." 

"  Then  listen,"  I  said,  "  and  tremble.    Let  me  see,  where 
'Marconi  scenes '—no,  it 's  not  that.      'Europe's 

determination  '—dear  me,  where Ah,  here  it  is.    Now 

then  for  Mr.  MORGAN.  These  are  his  burning  words :  '  I  do 
not  ask  that  the  business  man  should  be  coddled  or  kept  in 
cotton-wool,  but  I  do  maintain  that  hitherto  he  has  had  far 
less  than  his  just  share  of  feminine  support  and  sympathy.' 
There,  Francesca,  what  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

1  It  is  most  touching,"  she  said ;  "  but  is  that  all  ?  " 
No," I  said, "worse  remains  behind:  'When  a  barrister 
gets  his  first  brief,  a  doctor  his  first  case,  or  when  an  artist 
sells  his  first  picture  or  a  novelist  his  first  book,  his  wife  is 
full  of  pride  and  joy.'     Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  It  may  be,"  she  said ;  "  but  are  they  not  all  a  little 
young  to  be  married  ?  You  sold  your  first  book  long  before 
we  met.  I  had  no  chance  to  be  full  of  pride  and  joy." 

No,  but  you  would  have  been,  wouldn't  you  ?    Listen 


again :  '  But  when  a  business  man  gets  his  first  "  rise," 
which  has,  perhaps,  cost  him  one  cannot  say  how  much 
brain-power,  energy  and  industry,  he  usually  gets  scant 
appreciation  from  his  wife.  No  man  has  to  plough  a  more 
lonely  furrow  than  the  average  business  man  making  a 
career  for  himself."  " 

"  I  cannot  bear  much  more  of  this,"  said  Francesca, 
wiping  her  eyes.  "  It  is  most  pitiful.  But  I  shouldn't  have 
been  like  that.  If  you  had  been  an  average  business  man 
and  had  got  your  first  '  rise '  I  should  have  spread  a  feast 
iii  your  honour.  I  should  have  talked  of  your  brain-power 
to  everybody.  I  should  have  given  the  children  a  treat, 
and  should  have  explained  to  them  the  energy  and  industry, 
yes,  and  the  goodness  of  their  father,  for  you  are  good — I 
mean,  you  would  have  been  good  if  you  had  been  an  average 
business  man,  but  as  it  is  you  are  merely  a  writer,  and — 
She  broke  down  and  sobbed. 

"Thank  you,  Francesca,"  I  said.  "You  are  slightly 
confused,  but  you  have  a  kind  heart.  I  will  now  finish 
with  Mr.  MORGAN  :  '  Many  mothers  would  prefer  to  see 
their  daughters  rnarried  to  a  failure  in  any  of  the  more 
showy  professions  than  to  a  successful  business  man — 

"  Mamma  isn't  like  that,"  said  Francesca. 

"  Please  do  not  interrupt :  '  Sisters  are  always  glad  for 
their  brother  to  pilot  them  about  if  he  happens  to  be  a 
soldier  or  a  sailor ;  but  if  he  is  merely  in  an  office  they 
show  no  such  desire.'  Is  that  accurate  '?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Francesca,  "  there 's  something  in  it.  We 
do  like  sailors  and  soldiers  'even  when  they  're  not  in 
uniform.  They're  more  ready  to  pilot,  you  know,  and 
they  've  got  more  time.  They  give  their  minds  to  piloting, 
and  the  business  man  thinks  it  a  bore.  Still,  business  men 
can  be  very  agreeable.  They  've  generally  got  lots  of  money, 
though  they  don't  throw  it  about  like  sailors  and  soldiers." 

"That  may  be,"  I  said;  "  but  how  shall  we  answer  Mr. 
MORGAN  '? " 

"  I  don't  think  we  11  worry  about  him,"  she  said.  "  We  're 
not  business  men  and  we  've  no  right  to  speak."  R.  C.  L. 


THE  TRUE  KNIGHTS--ERRANT. 

[In  many  cases  recently  Suffragettes  have  only  been  saved  from 
severe  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the  public  through  the  sturdy  pro- 
tection afforded  them  by  the  police."] 

ROBERT,  O  Robert,  my  brave  knight-errant, 

Lending  your  aid  to  assaulted  Sufi's., 
Your  duty  disdaining  the  strong  deterrent 

That  they've  used  you  like  the  toughest  "  toughs ;  " 
Not  less  to  chivalrous  deeds  you  're  bound 
Than  the  olden  Knights  of  the  Table  Round ! 

And  of  all  those  gents  of  the  blameless  Order 
Sir  Gareth  's  the  one  who  was  most  your  style — 

Lynette's  young  man,  who  was  sworn  to  ward  her, 
And  did  it,  however  she  might  revile. 

She  insulted  him,  Robert;  she  chose,  to  flout 

The  limb  of  the  King.     But  he  helped  her  out. 

Ever  he  answered  in  gentle  fashion, 

Escorting  her  safe  from  the  clutch  of  her  foe ; 

And  you,  whom  the  fist  of  the  Suff.  falls  crash  on, 
Have  scorned  to  retaliate,  well  we  know ; 

Keeping  your  knightly  vows  in  mind, 

You  stand  between  her  and  enraged  mankind. 

Go  it,  then,  gallant  Sir  Gareth-Robert, 

Heir  of  the  old  chivalric  days ! 
Talon  and  tooth  of  the  suffrage  mob  hurt 

Your  skin,  but  your  honour  they  fail  to  graze ; 
England  is  proud'of  you ;  Mr.  Punch 
Would  shake  your  hand  and  endure  the  crunch. 


PUNCH,   OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— Amir,  9,  1913. 


TIME,  GENTLEMEN,  PLEASE! 


•• 


AntiT,  9,  1!) l:i.l 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


277 


"  PLEASE,  Sin,  "TWASX'T  ME!" 


SI  VIEILLESSE  POUVAIT ! 

LIVELY  sympathy  has  been  expressed 
in  many  quarters  with  President  Wo3D- 
BOW  WILSON  in  his  toilsome  endeavours 
to  secure  suitable  diplomat:c  repre- 
M'Mlativis  for  the  United  States  at 
the  principal  European  capitals ;  but 
this  sympathy  will  he  heightened  ten- 
fold when  the  public  learns  the  inner 
history  of  t'.ieso  negotiations.  It  is 
generally  known  that  Dr.  ELIOT,  ex- 
Presidont  of  Harvard,  and  Mr.  OLNEY, 
the  Secretary  of  State  in  Mr.  OLE  VE- 
LA xii'sAduiinistrat  on,  aged  respectively 
7!)  and  83,  both  declined  the  honour; 
lint  the  English  Press  knows  nothing 
>f  President  WOODBOW  WILSON'S 
previous  conscientious  efforts  to  secure 
men  for  those  posts  who  by  their  age 
and  dignity  would  specially  appeal  to 
tlu-  Old  World. 

We  have  it  on  the  best  authority  that 

lie  applied  to  GEOIOE  BANCROFT  (born 

in  1800)  and  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

(born  in  1H04)  before  making  overtures 

to  Dr.  ELIOT  and  Mr.  OLNEY  ;  also  that 

!  amongst  other  eminent  publicists,  pro- 

ira  and  warriors  to  whom  he  applied 

were  the  following  : — - 

Professor  Galusha  M  ildrun  Tittle, 
aged  91. 

Dr.  John  I'leiherPinchbaek,  aged  93. 

Admiral  Sherman  Tecumseh 
MoClung,  aged  88. 


General  Erastus  Bloclgett,  aged  84. 

Judge  Epaphroditus  Pennypacker, 
aged  99. 

Colonel  Myron  Gosloe  Killikelly, 
aged  82. 

Professor  Moses  Senesa  Spratling, 
aged  103. 

Somewhat  depressed  by  the  fact  that 
the  persons  named  either  declined  the 
offer  or,  in  the  case  of  Messrs.  BAN- 
CROFT, NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE,  POE 
and  SPKATLING,  actually  refrained  from 
answering  him  at  all,  Professor  WILSON 
then  decided  to  break  new  ground  alto- 
gether. "  GUNBOAT"  SMITH,  the  famous 
American  pugilist,  who  was  approached 
by  President  WOODBOW  WILSON  at  this 
stage  of  his  protracted  quest,  has  stated 
to  a  representative  of  The  New  York 
Undercut  the  motives  which  obliged 
him  to  decline  the  honour.  These 
motives,  ho  explains,  were  partly  poli- 
tical and  racial,  partly  financial  and 
partly  hygienicand  ethical.  "GuNHOAT" 
SMITH,  it  appears,  is  of  Irish-American 
descent,  and  is  animated  by  the  keenest 
sympathy  for  Irish  Nationalist  aspira- 
tions. For  him,  therefore,  to  accept 
the  post  of  Ambassador  at  St.  Jam  -s's 
before  the  Home  Eulo  Bill  was  placed 
on  the  Statute  Book  would  naturally 
be  resented  by  millions  of  bis  brother 
Irish  -  Americans,  including  Senator 
O'GoiiMAN,  and  would  place  him  in  a 
!  very  false  position.  Secondly,  ho  could 


not  afford  to  accept  a  post  which  would 
oblige  him  to  leave  the  ring  when  he 
was  earning  an  income  more  than  ten 
times  as  large  as  the  salary  attached  to 
the  appointment.  Thirdly,  us  a  con- 
vinced teetotaler  he  felt  strong  con- 
scientious scruples  about  accepting  a 
position  which  would  involve  a  great 
deal  of  entertainment,  in  which  the 
provision  of  alcoholic  beverages  was 
inevitable.  Lastly,  he  was  far  too 
young  to  accept  an  appointment  which 
had  been  offered  in  the  first  instance 
to  men  of  seventy-nine  years  and  up- 
wards. 

The  various  reasons  which  have  led 
other  gentlemen  to  refuse  the  nattering 
offer  would  fill  a  book.  But,  as  Mr. 
CHAUNCEY  DEPEW,  the  famous  Aiueri-. 
can  wit,  lias  so  aptly  said,  one  can  always 
turn  to  a  new  Page,  and  tin's  is  what 
the  President  has  done.  All  good  luck 
to  the  PAGE  which  he  lias  chosen ! 


Another  Impending  Apology. 
"Visits  were  paid  to  Rotterdam,  where  a 
visit  to  the  Zoo  helped  to  form  most  pleas  mt 
recollections  of  our  Dutch  friends." 

Sportstnan. 

"  Tallangatta,   Tuesday. — Mr.    was 

giving  a  demonstration  of  the  best  method  of 
throwing  a  horse,  when  the  animal  fell  on 
him  and  broke  his  leg." — Colonial 

We  like  his  spirit. 


278 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[APRIL  9,  1913. 


THE    UNSETTLER. 

I  HAD  been  house-hunting,  of  course 
vainly,  and  after  a  long  wait  succeeded 
in  getting  a  fly  at  the  village  inn  to 
drive  me  to  the  nearest  station.  I  don't 
say  I  had  seen  nothing  I  liked,  but 
nothing  that  was  empty.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  I  had  seen  one  very  charming 
place,  but  every  window  had  an  infernal 
blind  in  it  and  the  chimneys  were 
sending  up  their  confounded  smoke; 
and  I  was  in  a  vile  temper.  None  the 
less,  when  a  little  man  in  black  suddenly 


doubt  it,'  says  the  agent,  '  but  I  could, 
of  course,  sound  her.'  '  I  '11  give  you 
twenty-five  pounds,'  you  say,  ':f  you 
can  induce  her  to  quit ; '  and  off  you 
go.  It  is  then  that  the  unsettler  comes 
in.  The  agent  sends  for  me  and  tells 
me  the  story ;  and  I  set  to  work.  The 
old  lady  has  got  to  be  dislodged.  Now 
what  is  it  that  old  ladies  most  dislike?  I 
ask  myself.  It  depends,  of  course ;  but 
on  general  principles  a  scare  about  the 
water  is  safe,  and  a  rumour  of  ghosts 
is  safe.  The  water -scare  upsets  the 
mistress;  the  ghost -scare  upsets  the 


appeared  before  me  and  begged  to  be  maids.     Having  decided  on  my  line  of 
allowed  to  share  my  cab  (and  its  fare), 


1  agreed.     He  began  to  talk  at  once, 


action,  I  begin  to  spread  reports,  very 
cautiously,  of  course,  but  with  careful 


and  having  disposed  of  the  weather,  Sir  calculation,   and  of   course  never   ap- 
RUFUS  ISAACS,  the  Grand  National  and  i  pearing  in  it  myself ;  and  gradually,  bit 


the  want  of  enterprise  shown 
in  the  ordinary  English  vil- 1 
lage,  he  said  that  his  business  I 
took  him  a  good  deal  into  I 
unfamiliar  places. 

Having  nothing  to  reply  to 
this,  I  asked  him  what  his , 
business  was. 

"  I  'm  an  unsettler,"  he 
said. 

"  An  unseltler?" 

"  Yes.  It 's  not  a  profession 
that  we  talk  much  about,  be- 
cause the  very  essence  of  it 
is  secrecy,  but  it's  genuine 
enough  and  there  are  thou- 
sands of  us.  Of  course  we 
do  other  things  as  well,  such 
as  insurance  agency,  but  un- 
settling pays  best." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  I  said. 

"  Well, "he explained, "  it 's 
like  this.  Say  you  are  think- 
ing of  moving  and  you  want 
another  house.  You  can't  find 
an  empty  one  that  you  like, 


THE  HOME  CINEMATOGRAPH  FOB  SUFFEHEES  FBOM  INSOMNIA. 


of  course.  No  one  can.  But  you  differ  j  by  bit,  Miss  Burgess  takes  a  dislike  to 
from  other  persons  in  being  unwilling  |  the  place.  Not  always,  of  course.  Some 
to  make  a  compromise.  You  will  either  ;  of  them  are  most  unreasonable.  But 
wait  till  you  find  one  that  you  do  like, :  sooner  or  later  most  of  them  fall  to  the 
or  you  will  go  without.  But  meanwhile  j  bait  and  you  get  the  house.  That 's 
you  see  plenty  of  occupied  houses  that  my  profession,  Sir." 


you  like,  just  as  every  one  else  does. 
But  you  differ  from  other  persons  in 
being  unwilling  to  believe  that  you 
can't  have  what  you  want.  This  makes 
my  opportunity.  You  return  to  the 
agent  and  tell  him  that  the  only  house 
you  liked  was  (say)  a  white  one  at 
East  Windles.  'It  was  not  one  on 
your  list,'  you  say ;  '  in  fact  it  was 
occupied.  It  is  the  house  on  the  left, 
in  its  own  grounds,  just  as  you  enter 
the  village.  There  is  a  good  lawn  and 
a  wonderful  clipped  yew  hedge."  '  Oh, 
yes,'  says  the  agent,  'the  Old  Par- 

•  Who  lives  there  ? "  you  ask.       „  He  was  a  halldsomc  young  felloWj  8tand. 
ady  named  Burgess,   says  the  j  ing  six  feet  in  his  socks  and  well-proportioned 
agent — 'Miss   Burgess.'     'Would  she  to  boot."—  London  Mail. 
leave  ? '  you  ask.    '  I  should  very  much  |  What  size  were,  his  boots  ? 


"Well,"  I  said,  "I  think  it's  a  black- 
guard one." 

"Oh,  Sir!"  he  replied.  "Live  and 
let  live." 

"  It 's  funny,  all  the  same,"  I  added, 
"  that  I  should  have  run  across  you, 
because  I  "ve  been  looking  for  a  house 
for  some  time  and  the  only  one  I  liked 
was  tenanted." 

He  pulled  out  a  pocket-hook.  "  Yes  ?  " 
he  said,  moistening  his  pencil. 

But  I  have  nothing  more  to  tell  you 
about  the  little  beast. 


LITEEAEY  NOTES. 

WE  are  informed  authoritatively  that 
the  novel  just  published  by  Mr.  MURRAY 
and  entitled  The.  Arnold  Lip  has  no 
reference,  offensive  or  otherwise,  to  any 
other  firm  of  publishers ;  while  we  have 
reason  to  believe  that  the  novel  in  Mr. 
ARNOLD'S  Spring  list  entitled  Nash  and 
Some  Others,  makes  no  allusion,  direct 
or  indirect,  to  Mr.  EVELEIGH  NASH. 

No  particulars  are  forthcoming  re- 
garding a  new  novel  which  Mr.  AHMII.H 
lias  nearly  ready,  entitled  The  Jaw  of 
John  Murray,  but  we  believe  it  is  to  be 
of  a  striking  nature. 

Among  publications  shortly  to  be  ex- 
pected from  Mr.  NASH  is  a  novel  under 
the  title  That  Fellow  Arnold 
and  his  Little  Lot,  which 
we  are  given  to  understand 
will  be  highly  satirical  in 
character. 

Upon    enquiry    we    learn 
that  Mr.  SECKEB  is  preparing 
|  a  new  edition  of  The  Sunken 
\  Bell  entirely  without  refer- 
j  ence,  expressed  or  implied,  to 
'  the  fortunes  of  another  pub- 
lishing house. 

Mr.  LONG,  who  has   met 
with   a   stupendous  demand 
before    publication    for    Thf. 
Peculations  of  Paul,  expressed 
a  hope  to  our  representative 
,  that  the  novel,  which  deals 
j  with    the    love    story   of    a 
fraudulent  solicitor,  will   on 
no  account  be  associated  \vil  I: 
the  head  of  a  rival  house  of 
publishers,    with    whom   his 
i  relations  continue  to  remain 
most  cordial. 

Messrs.  PAUL  have  found  themselves 
compelled  to  go  to  press  with  an  im- 
mense edition  of  a  remarkable  new 
novel  entitled  Who  's  Ouseley  ? 

So  unprecedented  is  the  demand  for 
The  Great  John  Long  that  Messrs. 
HOLDEN  AND  HARDiNGHAM  are  com- 
pletely exhausted  before  publication. 

The  Fat  Poor. 

Mr.  CHURCHILL  as  reported  in  The 
Daily  Telegraph  : — • 

"The  other  measure  is  to  reduce  the  cost 
of   the   Osborne   and    Dartmouth   cour 
order  that  a  larger  lad  than  is  at  pivsitit 
possible  may  be  able  to  afford  to  enter  the 
navy." 


From  an  advt.  of  an  Aeroplane  Dis- 
play in  The  Knuts/ord  Guardian : — 

"  The  Plying  Exhibition  can  only  !> 
from  the  Ground." 

Then    we    shall     remain     there,    and 
nothing  shall  induce  us  to  go  up. 


Ai-itir,  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


279 


r*-'    '  '        '     i.ii/-' 


THE  BON  MOT  CLUB  HAD  A  VKBY  DISTRESSISO  EXPERIENCK  AT  THEIR  LAST  WEEKLY  DINKKI;. 
I'AST  WITHOUT  ANY  MEMBEIt  BEING  ABLE  TO  THIMK  O»  A  SINOLB  WITTY  IlEMAUK. 


TlIKKE  PAISFUL  MISUTES  DIIACIGEU 


NON     BENE     RELICTA. 

(A  Tragedy  of  the  Line.) 

OF  Cores  blent  and  Dionysus'  bloom, 

Offspring  of  vineyards  and  the  harvest  sun, 

I  bought  it  in  the  Ilhyl  refreshment-room, 
A  plain  sultana  bun. 

For  this  some  English  farmer  ploughed  the  plain, 
For  this  men  toiled  beneath  an  Orient  flag ; 

My  purpose  was  to  munch  it  in  the  train 
Out  of  a  paper  bag. 

So  far  so  good.     I  laid  it  by  my  side, 

Meaning  to  browse  at  leisure,  and  to  know 

What  beauties  of  the  harem,  laughing-eyed, 
Lurked  in  the  screen  of  dough. 

Oh  snobbery  1     Oh  sad  self -consciousness  I 
Into  my  carriage,  whilst  I  still  delayed, 

Climbed,  with  exceeding  care  about  her  dress, 
A  glorious  English  maid. 

I  marked  her  face,  I  marked  her  queenly  guise, 
I  marked  her  hat,  and  "  What,"  I  whispered,  "  feed 

Oft'  bun  before  those  proud  patrician  eyes — 
I  dare  not  do  the  deed. 

"  What  if  she  lifts  perchance  her  Norman  nose, 
As  who  should  say,  '  A  churl  of  loutish  kind. 

Ho  eats  his  food  from  paper  bags  1 '  "     I  rose, 
I  left  my  targe  behind. 

I  rose  and  went  into  the  corridor 

And  found  a  carriage  sacred  to  the  pipa. 

The  bag  ?    The  paper  bag  ?     'Twas  not  my  store ; 
Some  proletariat  type 


Had  left  it  on  the  seat,  a  cast-off  shame; 

I  found  it  when  I  took  the  train  at  Bhyl. 
Ugh  !  the  vile  object.     Stations  went  and  camo 

And  I  grew  hungrier  still 

We  stopped  at  Chester.     I  went  softly  back, 
Hoping  against  all  hope  the  girl  had  flown, 

And,  after  long  pain  and  exhaustion's  rack, 
Love  might  resume  its  own. 

Alas,  no  luck.     The  maiden  still  was  thoro. 
I  grasped  my  courage  then  in  either  hand. 

My  bun,  my  little  bun !     I  did  not  care- 
Death  gnawed  beneath  my  band. 

I  turned  my  eyes  towards  my  former  place, 
Then  reeled  and  turned  again ;  she  still  sat  on, 

That  haughty  charmer  with  the  proud,  cold  face, 
Yes,  but  my  bag  was  gone  1 

Nothing  betrayed  the  marble  of  her  cheek; 
Only  on  one  red  lip — ah,  horror  dumb — 
Stern  with  the  old  disdain  that  left  me  weak, 


Trembled  a  lonely  crumb. 


EVOE. 


From  The  Summerfield  Parish  Magazine  : — 

"  The  Superintendent  of  the  City  Road  Sunday  School  acknowledge:* 
with  best  thanks  the  following  gifts : — Mrs.  Woodward,  5/- ;  Mrs. 
Menco,  2/-;  Mr.  Watkins,  2/G1  Mrs.  Andrews,  5/-." 

"  My  dear,  fancy  Mr.  WATKINS  !  " 


"ThcScittish  law  officers  receive  salaries  inclusive  of  all  lui-ini'--,." 

Kvenm-j 

It  doesn't  sound  as  though  they  did  much  business. 


280 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Arair,  9,  1913. 


AN    INSURANCE  ACT. 

OF"  course  I  had  always  known  that 
a  medical  examination  was  a  necessary 
preliminary  to  insurance,  but  in  rny 
own  case  I  had  expected  the  thing  to 
be  the  merest  formality.  The  doctor, 
having  seen  at  a  glance  what  a  fine 
strong  healthy  fellow  I  was,  would  look 
casually  at  my  tongue,  apologise  for 
having  doubted  it,  enquire)  genially 
what  my  grandfather  had  died  of,  and 
show  me  to  the  door.  This  idea  of 
mine  was  fostered  by  the  excellent 
testimonial  which  I  had  written  myself 
at  the  Company's  bidding.  "Are  you 
suffering  from  any  constitutional 
disease? — No.  Have  you  ever  had 
gout  ? — No.  Are  you  deformed  ? — No. 
Are  you  of  strictly  sober  and  temperate 
habits?— No"  I  mean  Yes.  My  replies 
had  been  a  model  of  what  an  Assurance 
Company  expects.  Then  why  the  need 
of  a  doctor  ? 

However,  they  insisted. 

The  doctor  began  quietly  enough. 
He  asked,  as  I  had  anticipated,  after 
the  health  of  my  relations.  I  said 
that  they  were  very  fit,  and,  not  to  be 
outdone  in  politeness,  expressed  the 
hope  that  his  people,  too,  were  keep- 
ing well  in  this  trying  weather.  He 
wondered  if  I  drank  much.  I  said, 
"  Oh,  well,  perhaps  I  ivill,"  with  an 
apologetic  smile,  and  looked  round  for 
the  sideboard.  Unfortunately  he  did 
not  pursue  the  matter.  .  .  . 

"  And  now,"  he  said,  after  the 
hundredth  question,  "  I  should  like  to 
look  at  your  chest." 

I  had  seen  it  coming  for  some  time. 
In  vain  I  had  tried  to  turn  the  con- 
versation— to  lead  him  back  to  the 
subject  of  drinks  or  my  relations.  It 
was  no  good.  He  was  evidently  de- 
termined to  see  my  chest.  Nothing 
could  move  him  from  his  resolve. 

Trembling,  I  prepared  for  the  en- 
counter. What  terrible  disease  was  he 
going  to  discover  ? 

He  began  by  tapping  me  briskly  all 
over  in  a  series  of  double-knocks.  J?or 
the  most  part  one  double-knock  at  any 
point  appeared  to  satisfy  him,  but 
occasionally  there  would  be  no  answer 
and  he  would  knock  again.  At  one 
spot  lie  knocked  four  times  before  he 
could  make  himself  heard. 

"  This,"  I  said  to  myself  at  the  third 
knock,  "has  torn  it.  I  shall  be 
ploughed,"  and  I  sent  an  urgent  mes- 
sage to  my  chest,  "  For  'eving's  sake 
do  something,  you  fool.  Can't  you 
hear  the  gentleman  ?  "  I  suppose  that 
roused  it,  for  at  the  next  knock  he 
passed  on  to  an  adjacent  spot.  .  .  . 

"Um,"  he  said,  when  he  had  called 
everywhere,  "  um." 

"I    wonder    what    I've    done,"    I 


'  I  don't  believe 


thought   to   myself. 
he  likes  my  chest." 

Without  a  word  he  got  out  his 
stethoscope  and  began  to  listen  to  me. 
As  luck  would  have  it  he  struck  some- 
thing interesting  almost  at  once,  and 
for  what  seemed  hours  he  stood  there 
listening  and  listening  to  it.  But  it 
was  boring  for  me,  because  I  really 
had  very  little  to  do.  I  could  have 
bitten  him  in  the  neck  with  some 
ease  ...  or  I  might  have  licked  his 
ear.  Beyond  that,  nothing  seemed  to 
offer. 

I  moistened  my  lips  and  spoke. 

"  Am  I  dying? "  I  asked  in  a  broken 
voice. 

"  Don't  talk,"  he  said.  "  Just  breathe 
naturally." 

"  I  am  dying,"  I  thought,  "  and  he 
is  hiding  it  from  me."  It  was  a 
terrible  reflection. 

"  Um,"  he  said  and  moved  on. 

By-and-by  he  went  and  listened 
behind  my  back.  It  is  very  bad  form 
to  listen  behind  a  person's  back.  I  did 
not  tell  him  so,  however.  I  wanted 
him  to  like  me. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.     "  Now  cough." 

"  I  haven't  a  cough,"  I  pointed  out. 

"  Make  the  noise  of  coughing,"  he 
said  severely. 

Extremely  nervous,  I  did  my  cele- 
brated imitation  of  a  man  with  an 
irritating  cough. 

"  H'm  !  h'm !  h'm !  h'rn  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor.     "  Go  on." 

"  He  likes  it,"  I  said  to  myself,  "and 
he  must  obviously  be  an  excellent  judge. 
I  shall  devote  more  time  to  mimicry  in 
future.  H'm !  h'm  !  h'm !  .  .  ." 

The  doctor  came  round  to  where  I 
could  see  him  again. 

"Now   cough    like  this,"    he    said. 
Honk !  honk !  " 

I  gave  my  celebrated  imitation  of  a 
sick  rhinoceros  gasping  out  its  life. 
It  went  well.  I  got  an  encore. 

"Um,"  he  said  gravely,  "um."  He 
put  his  stethoscope  away  and  looked 
earnestly  at  me. 

"  Tell  me  the  worst,"  I  begged. 
"  I  'm  not  bothering  about  this  stupid 
insurance  business  now.  That's  off, 
of  course.  But — how  long  have  I  ? 
I  must  put  my  affairs  in  order.  Can 
you  promise  me  a  week  ?  " 

He  said  nothing.  He  took  my 
wrists  in  his  hands  and  pressed  them. 
It  was  evident  that  grief  over-mastered 
him  and  that  lie  was  taking  a  silent 
farewell  of  me.  I  bowed  my  head. 
Then,  determined  to  bear  my  death- 
sentence  like  a  man,  I  said  firmly,  "  So 
be  it,"  and  drew  myself  away  from 
him. 

However,  lie  wouldn't  let  me  go. 

"  Come,  come,"  I  said  to  him,  "  you 
must'not  give  way;"  and  I  made  an 


effort  to  release  my  hand,  meaning  to 
pat  him  encouragingly  on  the  shoulder. 

Ho  resisted.  .  .  . 

I  realised  suddenly  that  I  had  mis- 
taken his  meaning,  and  that  he  was 
simply  feeling  my  pulses. 

"Urn,"  he  said,  "um,"  and  continued 
to  finger  my  wrists. 

Clenching  my  teeth,  and  with  the 
veins  starting  out  on  my  forehead,  I 
worked  my  pulses  as  hard  as  I  could. 

#  :;:  :;;  :):  :|c  :;: 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  as  I  finished  tying 
my  tie ;  and  he  got  up  from  the  desk 
where  he  had  been  making  notes  of 
my  disastrous  case,  and  came  over  to 
me.  "  There  is  just  one  thing  more. 
Sit  down." 

I  sat  down. 

"  Now  cross  your  knees." 

I  crossed  my  knees.  He  bsnt  over 
me  and  gave  me  a  sharp  tap  below  the 
knee  with  the  side  of  his  hand. 

My  chest  may  have  disappointed 
hiin  .  .  .  He  may  have  disliked  my 
back  .  .  .  Possibly  I  was  a  complete 
failure  with  my  pulses  .  .  .  But  I 
knew  the  knee-trick. 

This  time  he  should  not  be  dis- 
appointed. 

I  was  taking  no  risks.  Almost 
before  his  hand  reached  my  knee,  my 
foot  shot  out  and  took  him  fairly 
under  the  chin.  His  face  suddenly 
disappeared. 

"I  haven't  got  that  disease,"  I  said 
cheerily.  A.  A.  M. 


THE    CUCKOO. 

THE  cuckoo,  when  the  lambkins  bleat, 
Does  nothing  else  but  sing  and  eat. 
The  other  birds  in  dale  and  dell 
Sing  also — but  they  work  as  well. 

When  daisies  star  the  April  sward 
His  eggs  he  places  out  to  board, 
That  when  his  nursery  should  be  full 
He  may  not  be  responsible. 

When  other  birds,  from  rooks  to  wrens, 
Good  husbands  are  and  citizens, 
The  cuckoo  's  little  else  beyond 
A  captivating  vagabond. 

The  other  birds  who  dawn  acclaim, 
Their  songs  are  sweet   but  much  the 

same; 

The  cuckoo  has  a  ruder  tone 
But  absolutely  all  his  own. 

Now  where 's  the  bard  that  it  would 

irk 

To  eat  his  meals  and  not  to  work  ? — 
And  it 's  prodigiously  worth  while 
To  have  an  individual  style. 

So  I  would  be  the  cuckoo  bold 
And  loaf  in  meadows  white-and-goW, 
And  make  a  song  unique  as  his 
And  shirk  responsibilities. 


APRIL  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


281 


ONCE   UPON   A   TIME. 

THK  LATEU  EDITION. 
ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  mar 
who  now  and  then  liked  a  little  ilutter 
on  the  Turf.    Rarely  did  lie  win,  but  he 
did  not  risk  much,  and  he  had  probably 
us  much  fun  for  his  losses  as  he  woult 
have  obtained  in  any  other  way  ant 
not   pinch    more    expensively.      Well 
after    a    long    and    dreary   winter    ol 
fiteoplechasing  and  hurdling,  in  which 
he  took  very   little   interest,   the  Hal 
season  at  last  opened  again  and  all  the 
world  w:as  full  of  talk  of  the  Lincoln- 
shire Handicap;  and  "  the  curtain  being 
rung  up  on  the  Carholme,"  and  all  the 
old  tropes  of  sporting  journalism  were 
trotted  out ;  and  in  common  with  most  ol 
the  male  population  of  the  British  Isles 
and  not  a  few  women,  this  gambler  was 
exercised  in  his  mind  as  to  what  woult! 
win.     There  was  a  very  large  field — 
over  twenty  horses — to  pick  from,  and 
since  none  of  them  had  done  anything 
since  November,  and  much  may  happen 
to  a  horse  during  the  winter,  the  race 
was    exceedingly   open,   nor   was    the 
decision  made  any  easier  by  the  con- 
flicting advice  of  the  prophets  and  the 
sons  of  the  prophets,  each  of  whom  had 
a  different  fancy.     So  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  choose  for  himself,  and,  after 
much    searching    of    heart    and    the 
d(  struction  of  many  telegraph  forms,  he 
at  last  despatched  to  his  commission 
agent  a  message  desiring  him  to  back 
Cuthbert  both   ways   for  five  pounds, 
and  having   done   this    he    resolutely 
forgot  all  about  the  race  until  the  boys 
began  to  shout  the  result  in  the  streets. 
Even  then  he  declined  to  be  hurried, 
but  with  a  great  affectation  of  apathy  he 
bought  a  paper,  and  when  he  saw  that 
his  own   Cuthbert,  child  of  his   pre- 
science, was  first  at  100  to  6  you  could 
have  knocked  him  down  with  an  osprey, 
for  this  meant  over  £100  in  hand.     He 
retired  to  his  club  and  let  his  mind  run 
on  what  he  would  do  with  it.     There 
was  a  little  picture  at  CHRISTIE'S  in  the 
Friday's  sale  which  had  much  attracted 
him — he  could  now  have  that;  and  the 
new  limited  edition  of  KIPLING;   and 
an  anonymous  tenner  to  one  or  two 
needy  friends  might  be  managed ;  and 
the  new  billiard-cloth  could  be  assured 
—all  through  the  gallant  efforts  of  the 
brave  Cuthbert.     He  also  wrote  a  few 
letters  announcing  his  success,  and  then 
leaving  his  club  very  happy  in  mind,  he 
\\iis   met   by    another    newspaper-boy 
bearing  a  placard  which  said,  "Lincoln 
Handicap  Sensation,"  and,  idly  buying 
this,  the  man  discovered  that  the  brave 
Cuthbert    had    been   disqualified    and 
was  now  utterly  discredited  and  last 
of  all,  and  a  miserable  impostor  named 
Berrilldon  was  first,  so  that,  instead 


"I  AM  GLAD  TO  SEE  YOU  COME  SO  REGULARLY  TO  OUR  EVENING  SERVICES,  MRS.  BROWN." 

"Yus.    YER  SEE,  ME  'USBASD  "ATES  ME  COIN'  HOUT  OP  A  HEVENINO,  so  I  DOES  IT  TO 
SPITE  "IM." 


of  touching  £100  and  more,  he  owed 
ais  commission-agent  £10.  And  could 
ihere  be  a  much  sadder  true  story  ? 


WHAT    EVERY    LIBERAL 
SHOULD   KNOW. 

FOLLOWING    the    example    of     the 
,  where  competitive  cadetships  are 
shortly  to  be  established,  the  Gladstone 
League  is  about  to  found  a  number  of 
:cholarships  in  current  political  topics. 
As  a  general  indication  of  the  character 
of   the   questions  which  will   be   put, 
he  following  specimen  paper  has  been 
iirculated : — 

1.  State  in  what  circumstances  it  is 
possible  to  conceive  that  Mr.  T.  W. 
RUSSELL  would  ever  resign  office. 


2.  Who  is  the  only  member  of  the 
Cabinet  whom  none  of  his  colleagues 
are  able  to  call  by  his  Christian  name  ? 

3.  How  would  you  handicap  a  four- 
some in  which  Sir  RUFUS  ISAACS  and 
Lord  ROBERT  CECIL  were  opposed  by 
Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  and  Mr.  KEBTY- 
FLETCHER? 

4.  State  your  reasons  for  preferring 
HANDEL  BOOTH  as  a  vocalist  to  HAYDEN 
COFFIN,  or  vice  vcrsd. 

5.  Who   said   that   listening  to  the 
Rev.  SYLVESTER  HORNE,  M.P.,  in  the 
House  of   Commons   gave   him   "pul- 
pitations  of  the  heart "  ? 

G.  Where  are  Elibank,  Charnwood, 
Aberconway,  Walton  Heath  and 
Criccioth  ? 


282 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON  CIIAKIVA I J I . 


9,  1913. 


GOING    IT!  -: ..;• 

SCENK — A  "  Bat-aillc  de  Souks  "  at  a  Restaurant  on  the  Riviera. 

British  Matron  (to  her  daughters).  "  OP  COURSE,  MY  DEARS,  rr  is  NOT  BEHAVIOUR  I  WOULD  FOB  ONE  MOMENT  COUNTENANCE  IN 
LONDON,  BUT  IN  ROME,  AS  THE  BAYINO  is,  ONE  SHOULD  DO  AS  THE  ROMANS  DO,  AND  so  I  DO  NOT  KNOW  THAT  TUEBH  WOULD  BB 

AST  PJtBTTCULAB  TIABM  IP  YOU  EACH  THREW  JUST   ONE  AT  YOUR   FATHEB."      . 


THE    MOUNTAIN    HARE. 


OFF  steep  Snaefell  the  wind  comes-cod, 

3ut  in  the-sun  the  stacks  are-steaming, 
And  on  the  lawn  a  furry  pool, 

Three  lazy  dogs  that  lie  a-dreaming ; 
When  •suddenly,  beside  the  hedge, 

Near  the  blue  iris  fast  uncrinkling, 
A  hare  steps  on  the  grassy  edge, 

His  brown  bright  eyes  with  mischief  twinkling. 

No  pursy  meadow-hare  is  this 

To  fall  a  prey  to  plodding  beagles  ; 
He  is  a  mountain  hare,  I  wis, 

And  trains  himself  in  dodging  eagles  ; 
Straight  for  those  dreaming  dogs  he  goes, 

And  as  he  lightly  vaults  them  over 
Flips  with  contemptuous  pads  the  nose 

Of  bold  Ben  Gunn  or  Jack  or  Itoverl 

Away  he  pelts  straight  up  the  hill 

With  springing  steps  that  never  slacken, 
A  flash  of  red  along  the  fell, 

A  running  ripple  through  the  bracken ; 
Light  as  a  blown  leaf  on  his  feet 

And  swifter  than  a  scudding  swallow, 
While  the  three  dogs  in  breathless  heat 

With  one  wild  howl  of  "  Banzai !  "  follow. 


First  goes  Ben  Gunn,  his  nose  to  the  track, 

Sore  vexed  that  puss  has  caught  him  napping, 
And  then  that  scapegrace  terrier  Jack, 

\Vasting  his  precious  breath  in  yapping ; 
Then  a  long  pause,  and  then — unkind, 

Ungallant  of  her  friends  to  leave  her ! 
Panting  perspiringly  behind 

A  stout  and  middle-aged  retriever. 

O  craft  that  doubles  in  the  gdrse, 

O  speed  that  skims  the  open  reaches ! 
What  jokes  beside  the  water-course, 

What  merry  japes  among  the  beeches  I 
The  fells  with  sun  and  shadow  hued, 

The  larches  gay  with  April  bunting, 
And  both  pursuers  and  pursued 

Delirious  with  the  joy  of  hunting. 

But  joys  are  fleeting !     Pussy  feels 

His  friends  behind  loo  blown  to  rally, 
And  with  a  pitying  kindness  wheels 

Back  to  their  own,  their  native  valley ; 
Plumb  on  their  sacred  lawn  he  halts — 

A  sight  to  drive  a  "true  dog  crazy  ! 
Tumbles  two  saucy  somersaults 

And  exit,  fresher  than  a  daisy. 


PUNCH,   Oil  Till'1,   LONDON   CHARIVARI".— Avmr.  9,  1913. 


FIVE    KEELS    TO    NONE. 

THE  UNITED  POWELLS.  " COME    OUTSIDE,    YOUNG   'UN,    WE'VE    PREPARED   A  NICE   LITTLE 
DEMONSTRATION    FOR    YOU." 

MONTENEGRO.  "Oil,    GO    AWAY,    YOU    SILLY    SAILOR-MEN;    CAN'T   YOU    SEE    I'M   BUSY?" 


APRIL  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


285 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(KxTJiACTKD  FROM  Till':  DlAHY  OF  ToBY,  M.I'.) 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  March 
31. — Looking  round  more  than  lialf- 
empty  benches  at  Question-time  it 
scorns  impossible  that  the  Session,  but 
a  few  weeks  old,  can  hold  out  to 
Whitsuntide.  As  a  rule,  whatever  may 
befall  as  an  average  sitting  drones  along, 
then;  is  full  attendance  at  Question- 
time.  Treasury  Bench  is  thronged  by 
Ministers  eager  to  give  as 
little  information  as  possi- 
ble in  adequate  number  of 
words.  LEADER  OP  OPPO- 
SITION and  his  colleagues 
are  temporarily  united  in 
search  for  opening  to  trip 
up  Government.  Through 
the  Question -hour  (which, 
by  the  way,  lasts  only 
forty-five  minutes),  no  one 
knows  what  may  turn  up. 
Consequently  all  are  in 
their  places  ready  to  bo 
interested  or  amused. 

Peculiarity  of  to-day's 
situation  is  singular  absence 
on  part  of  Leaders.  The 
hungry  sheep  look  up  and 
are  not  fed.  To  begin  with, 
SPEAKER  is  represented  by 
Deputy.  Two  Members  on 
Front  Opposition  Bench 
represent  flower  of  the  ex- 
Ministry.  The  PREMIER,  to  whom 
customary  bunch  of  Questions  are  ad- 
dressed, is  out  of  hearing.  CHANCELLOR 
OP  THE  EXCHEQUER  is  engaged  in 
apostolic  work  recorded. by  St.  Paul, 
Ephesus  being  represented  by  the 
Marconi  Committee  -  room  upstairs. 
The  POSTMASTER-GENERAL  is  in  the 
same  arena.  Even  MASTERMAN,  whose 
capacity  for  answering  Questions  de- 
signed with  baffling  intent  is  super- 
human, extends  his  week-end. 

HiCKS-JoTNSON — or  is  it  JOYNSON- 
HICKS?  In  the  early  days  of  Minis- 
terial colleagueship  the  late  MAHKIS 
used  to  complain  that  he  never  knew 
whether  Old  Morality  was  H.  W. 
SMITH  or  \V.  H.  However  precedence 
runs,  the  Member  for  Brentford  was 
all  over  the  shop.  The  SPEAKER,  who 
cannot  be  accused  of  niggardliness  in 
the  matter,  has  drawn  the  line  at  six 
Questions  as  a  maximum  allowance 
for  a  single  Member.  HicKS-JoYNsoN, 
subtlely  grouping  four  under  two  head- 
ings, managed  to  evade  the  regulations 
and  put  eight.  His  activity  did  little 
to  relieve  depression  that  settled  down 
upon  House.  As  one  swallow  does  not 
make  a  summer,  so  a  hyphen  linking 
two  surnames  does  not  involve  double 
capacity  for  commanding  attention. 

Effect  of  situation  upon  Mr.  GINNELL 


comically  embarrassing.  Appropriated 
considerable  portion  of  Question  Paper 
with  a  Shorter  Catechism  of  diversified 
interest.  Had  as  usual,  necessarily  in 
ignorance  of  nature  of  Ministerial  reply, 
drafted  in  manuscript  sheaf  of  Supple- 
mentary Questions  "  arising  out  of  that 
answer."  These  he  prefaced  by  ad- 
dressing "  Mr.  Speaker."  Correcting 
himself  with  grave  deliberation  he  sub- 
stituted the  formula,  "  Mr.  Deputy- 
Speaker."  This,  regularly  repeated 


KEBTY-FLETCHEB  IN  ERUPTION. 

through  a  course  of  interrogation, 
occupied  some  time.  But  time  is 
matter  for  slaves  and,  true  Britons 
all,  House  of  Commons  never  will  be 
slaves. 

Business  done. — Eeport  Stage  of  the 
Navy  Estimates  agreed  to  without 
division. 

Tuesday. — The  measure  of  success 
attendant  en  eruption  of  KEBTY- 
FLETCHER  was  not  such  as  to  encourage 


"  Self-confessed  vacuity." 
(Mr.  DENISOS  FADER.) 


fresh  effort  in  same  direction.  It  cer- 
tainly had  the  charm  of  the  unexpected. 
This  the  third  session  of  the  Member 
for  Altrincham ;  as  far  as  one  re- 
members, his  maiden  speech  was  made 
to-day  when  he  suddenly  fell  upon 
CHANCELLOR  OF  THI:  KM.'HKQUKR  and 
tried  to  rend  him.  His  acquirements 
as  a  linguist  are  among  the  proudest 
appanages  of  the  Liverpool  provision 
market.  Since  ho  came  to  Westminster 
he  has  been  silent  in  five  languages. 
This  afternoon  hurst  forth 
in  one,  and  straightway 
made  a  Parliamentary  repu- 
tation. 

Began  with  inquiry  set 
forth  on  paper  desiring  to 
know  from  the  CHANCELLOR 
OP  THE  EXCHEQUER 
"  whether  there  are  any 
emoluments  or  allowances 
attached  to  his  office  other 
than  his  salary." 

On    face   of  it  question 
suggested    to     penetrating 
mind    of    DENISON    FABEH 
that  suspicion  of  there  being 
"something  behind"  which 
stirred     its      self-confessed 
vacuity  when  he  came  across 
the   ATTORNEY  -  GENERAL'S 
cable  message  to  his  brother 
in  New  York,  "  I  hope  that 
by  the  time  you  come  back 
the    Coal    Strike    may    be 
finished."    Whether  the  mind  of  CHAN- 
CELLOR OF  THE  EXCHEQUER  was  dis- 
turbed   by    similar  suspicion    is    not 
known.      He  contented   himself   with 
short  rejoinder  in  the  negative. 

It  was  here  that  KEBTY-FLETCHER, 
to  the  amazement  of  House,  erupted. 
Had  Vesuvius  on  a  summer  evening, 
after  long  period  of  quiessnce,  broken 
forth  in  flames  and  streams  of  boiling 
lava,  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
could  not  have  been  more  astonished. 

"  Arising  out  of  that  reply,"  he 
said,  "  is  not  the  right  honourable 
gentleman's  salary  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent him  wrongfully  and  improperly 

gambling ?  " 

Evidently  more  to  follow,  but  whether 
KEBTY  meant  to  finish  the  sentence  in 
German,  Latin,  or  a  dialect  of  the  Slav 
tongue,  no  one  knows.  Loud  shout  of 
"Order!  Order!"  boomed  from  Minis- 
terial benches.  SPEAKER  interposed 
with  obvious  remark  that  the  further 
question  did  not,  as  alleged,  "  arise 
out "  of  Minister's  reply  and  was  there- 
fore not  in  order.  LLOYD  GEORGE  leapt 
to  his  feet  and,  regarding  his  assailant 
with  flashing  eyes,  invited  him  to  "come 
outside."  Of  course  didn't  put  invita- 
tion in  this  precise  form.  That  its 
plain  meaning. 

KEBTY  rose  respondent  to  the  chal- 


len«e. 


Si-E\KEH  on  his  feet  again 
ms.simg  that  if  Member  for  Altrincham 
had  further  questions  to  ask  he  sliou  d 
,,ut  then,  on  the  Paper.  Evidently 
didn't  think  a  man  with  such  com- 
lll;U1d  of  language  was  to  he  trusted 
to  speak  on  spur  of  moment.  Basil 
bobbed  up  and  down  like  parched  pea 
in  frying-pan.  Whenever  ho  rose  a 
lu.wl'of  execration  came  from  benches 
opposite.  "Snob!  Snob '."they  shouted. 
"Cad!  Cad!"  Whereto  well-wishers 
on  Opposition  benches,  with  fuller 
command  of  syllables,  responded, 
"Marconi!"  "  Whitewashing! 

Worse  than  the  uproar  was  attitude 
of  the  SPEAKER.  KEISTY'S  pale  lips 
moved  as  if  he  were  translating  a  select 
passage  from  a  foreign  classic.  That 
all  right,  since  not  a  syllable  could  be 
heard.  But  whenever,  after  contact 
with  the  frying-pan,  the  parched  pea 


IIlCKS-JoYXSOX. 


popped  up,  the  SPEAKER  was  also  on 
his  legs  and  KEBTY  dropped  down. 

Strangers  in  the  Gallery,  brought  up 
to  respect  what  they  were  taught  to 
regard  as  "  the  first  body  of  gentlemen 
in  Europe,"  looked  round  uneasily. 
Began  to  think  that  by  some  strange 
mistake  they  had  strayed  into  what 
ALBERT  MAUKHAM  last  week  described 
as  "  a  pothouse  crowd." 

SABK,  who  is  reaching  the  status  of  one 
of  the  oldest  Members  and  reveres  the 
memories  of  forty  years  of  close  intimacy, 
refrains  from  habit,  sometimes  perhaps 
obtrusive,  of  interposing  frivolous  re- 
marks on  the  episode.  Jealous  for  the 
dignity  and  high  traditions  of  the  House 
ho  discerns  in  it  fresh  testimony  to  the 
deplorable  decadence  that  has  marked 
I  its  proceedings  during  recent  months. 

Eruption  subsided  as  suddenly  as  it 
had  broken  forth.     Business  went  on 
as  if    nothing  out   of    the   way    had 
I  happened. 


Business  done.— Alarums  and  excur- 
sions. Incidentally  motion  that  House 
should  go  into  Committee  on  Uvil 
Service  Estimates  agreed  to.  At  end 
of  eight  hours  SI-KAKEK  left  the  Chair. 
Two  minutes  later  everybody  left  the 
House.  Sitting  adjourned. 


THE  YEENAL  EQUINOX. 
WHEN  I  have  got  a  song  to  sing, 

No  power  on  earth  can  stop  it; 
And  this,  you  must  admit,  is  Spring 
When  bluebells  do  (or  ought  to)  rin^ 
And  Edwin  whispers  "  Ting-a-lmg  1 ' 

And  Angelina,  "  Drop  it ! ' 
When  songsters  ought  to   have   their 
fling, 

And  lovers  ought  to  pop  it. 
For  are  not  questions  things  to  pop 
And  is  a  song  a  thing  to  stop  ? 

Ten  years  ago  I  loved  a  piece 

Whose  Christian  name  was  Mary ; 

She  was  a  stout  attorney's  niece 

And  swore  our  love  should  never  cease ; 

But  oh !  when  uncles  are  obese 
Then  are  they  most  contrairy. 

When  this  one  whistled  for  the  p'lice 
Myself,  becoming  wary, 

Remarked,  upon  a  second  thought, 

To  cease,  perhaps,  was  what  it  ought. 

The  constable  was  big  and  blue, 
His  views  were  most  decided.  .  .  . 

And,  now  whenever  Spring  is  due, 

I  thank  my  stars,  as  so  would  you, 

If  you  had  got  a  star  or  two 
And  you  had  fared  as  I  did. 

(One's  stars  will  always  see  one  through 
If  one  will  but  be  guided.) 

But  what  I  thank  my  planets  for 

Is  keeping  me  a  bachelor. 

"  But  what,"  you  ask,  "  of  Mary, 
pray  ?  " 

Another  man  bespoke  her, 
Whom  she,  upon  her  wedding  day, 
Was  pledged  to  honour  and  obey 
And  even  love  him  in  a  way, 

Although  he  was  a  Broker. 
But  as  for  him,  I  've  heard  him  say 

He 's  half  a  mind  to  choke  her. 


ROMEO    TO    RAG-TIME. 

SHAKSI-KAKE  ON  THE  CINEMA. 
'"llomeo  and  Juliet'  in  eight  pieces, 

half-a-milo   long.     Comedy,  tragedy, 

love,  pathos,  crime." — Hoarding. 

[A  weekly -paper  asks  our  serious  dramatists 
to  turn  their  attention  to  the  cinema  stiige. 
Why  not  lloinco  and  Juliet  on  the  lilnia— 
as,  of  course,  a  cowboy  drama  ?j 

Scene  1. — Cowboy  "scrap  "  in  Dead 
Man's  Gully,  Ohio,  U.S.  Gilead  J. 
Capulet's  boys  engage  Samuel  P.  Mon- 
tigue's  gang.  Bowie-knives,  shooting- 
irons,  broncho  -  busters,  .  sheepskin 
trousers,  etc.  Music  (mechanical  piano), 
"Bagging  the  Ragtime,"  with 'chorus 
of  nigger  minstrels.  Enter  Old  Man 
Capulet  and  Old  Man  Montague  and 
get  busy  with  their  guns.  They  break 
up. 

Scene  2. — Moonlight  dance  on  Gilead 
J.  Capulet's  ranch.  Cowboys  and  cow- 
girls Boston.  Music,  "  Hitchy  Koo." 
Enter  Romeo  S.  Montague  with  Ben- 
volio  (comic  entry,  disguised).  Old  M  ;m 
Capulet,  not  recognising  them,  gives 
them  the  glad  eye.  Romeo  sees  Juliet 
(Sadie)  Capulet  and  they  fall  in  love. 
Conversation  cards  shown  on  film — 


What 's  wrong  with  her  ? 
She  '3  a  beaut ! — eh  ? 


|  Say  I    He's  top-notch  1 


Nephew  Tybalt  Capulefc  recognises 
Rome  Montague  and  gets  shirty.  Con 
versation  cards  shown — • 

I  Gee  Whiz  I     A  darned  Montague  1  | 


Another  of  them  Capulet  critters  I 
Well,  I'm  jiggered  I 


"  But  what  has  this,"  you  ask  again, 
"  To  do  with  Spring  ?  "  I  will  explain. 

Though  Spring's  the  time  when,  love 
is  ripe 

And  ready  for  the  gleaning, 
When  Corydon  assumes  his  pipe 
And,  giving  it  a  thoughtful  wipe, 
Croons  lays  of  an  erotic  type 

But  little  inner  meaning— 
"Tis  then  that  husbands  feel  the  gripe 

And  misery  of  cleaning. 
A  wife,  they  tell  me,  is  a  thing 
That  one  is  best  without  in  Spring. 

Notice  outside  Oxford : — 
"Bear  left  at  centre  of  town  for  Banbury." 
Sir  FBEDERICK  should  claim  it  at  once. 


They  pull  out  their  guns,  but  Old  Man 
Capulet  calls  it  off. 

Scene  3. — Under  Julie's  window- 
moonlight.  Rome  draws  hand  acros 
forehead,  stamps,  and  hits  himself  01 
brisket  to  show  he  is  in  love  with  Jule 
She  (on  verandah)  leans  chin  on  on 
hand  and  saws  the  air  with  the  othe 
to  show  she  accepts  him.  Nigger  coon 
song  heard  off — "  Linger  longer,  Lucy.' 

Cards —  

I  Is  it  a  deal,  rny  Julo?  | 


Waal,  you  're  It  I 

What 's  wrong  with  getting  hitched 
right  away? 


I  Whoopee,  it 's  a  cinch  I  | 

Scene  4. — Parson  Lawrence's  shanty. 
Wedding  service  on.  Rome  and  Jule 
stand  on  and  off  while  Parson  Law- 
rence yanks  a  book  and  shoves  his 


APKIL  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


237 


arms  around  to  indicate  reading  prayer- 
book.     Card — 


"  Till  death  us  do  part." 
Right !    You  're  hitched  ! 


Wedding  march  on  piano,  and  dance 
(two-step). 

Scene  5. — Bar  scrap  in  neighbouring 
saloon.  Eome  Monty  draws  a  bead  on 
Tybalt  Capulet  and  lays  him  out. 
Sheriff  says  :—"  Sentence :  Deported 
as  an  undesirable."  Eome  springs  on 
buck-jumper  and  clears,  followed  by 
usual  crowd  in  usual  race ;  winner, 
Romeo  by  ten  miles.  He  reaches 
Jule's  shanty  unobserved. 

Scene  G. — Jule's  room  on  Capulet's 
diggings.  Next  morning — dawn.  Piano: 
"  So  early  in  do  morning."  Borneo, 
by  waving  left  arm  upwards,  indicates 
that  dawn  is  breaking.  Jule,  by  catching 
him  by  the  shoulder  and  frowning, 
shows  that  she  thinks  he  is  wrong. 
Eome  twiddles  his  hands  and  points  one 
out  of  the  window  to  tell  her  that  he  must 
escape  to  another  State  if  he  is  to  avoid 
being  hanged,  with  further  particulars. 
He  lowers  himself  out  of  shanty  window 
and  rides  off  on  buck-jumper.  Piano  : 
"  Say  All,  rcvoir  but  not  Good-bye." 

Scene  1. — Juliet,  pressed  by  Poppa 
Capulet  to  marry  someone  else,  is  afraid 
of  committing  bigamy,  when  Parson 
Lawrence  buys  her  a  two-finger  nip  of 
opium.  She  writes  a  letter  to  Eomeo. 
Letter  card — 


Only  opium,  not  poison. 

Must  take  it  to  throw  Pop  off  the  scent. 

Shall  come  round  again  in  48  hours. 

Keep  your  hair  on  ! 


She  drinks,  exclaiming  (card) — 
Here 's  to  you,  Borne !  |  , 


and  drops  in  her  tracks.  (Piano — 
"  Down  by  the  willow  she  's  sleeping," 
sung  by  darkies  "  oft'.") 

Scene  8. — Telegraph  boy  with  her 
letter  has  stopped  to  play  baseball. 
Romeo  gets  another  letter  first — 


Jule  came  all  over  queer  yesterday  ; 
dropped  down  and  pegged  out. 

Buried  this  afternoon. 
Don't  take  on,  now — buck  up  I 


Eome,  in  despair,  buys  nip  of  poison  at 
neighbouring  saloon  and  gallops  back 
on  buck-jumper  to  Old  Man  Capulet's 
diggings.  Finds  Jule  in  darkened  vault. 
(Music—"  The  Rag-time  Goblin  Man.") 
Rome  works  his  arms  about,  holds  head, 
rolls  his  eyes,  drinks  poison.  Card— 


Gin,  gin! 


Drops.     (Music  —  "  Massa  's  in  de  cold, 
cold  groun'.")     Julo  comes  to,  finds  him 


Major  Bangstick  (of  the  Indian  Army).  "TELL  YOUR  SCOUT-MASTER  THAT,  NOW  I'M 

HOME,  I  SHALL  BE  PLEASED  TO  HELP  HIM,  IP  HE'D  LIKE  IT,  WITH  FIELD-WORK  AND  SO  ON." 

Horace.  "THANKS,  AWFULLY,  DAD,  BUT — ER— ARE  YOU  QUITE  UP-TO-DATE"! — MULL'S 

ALTERED  A  LOT  SINCE  YOU   WERE  HOME   LAST." 


dead,  draws  a  gun  and  blows  her  brains 
out.  Enter  crowd  of  cowboys  on  buck- 
jumpers,  with  Old  Man  Capulet  and 
Pop  Montague.  They  find  the  bodies. 
Cards — 


Put  it  there — shake !  j 


Pegged  out— both  of  them  ! 
We  're  up  against  it. 


I  'm  always  doing  the  wrong  thing- 
I  lost  a  saddle-strap  yesterday. 


cJ,  I  'nx  right-down  sorry. 
Put  up  yer  gun,  Mont — 
let 's  quit  fightin' ! 


Chorus  of  darkies — "  All  de  darkies  am 
a-weeping;"   "  Yankee  Doodle."  Blank 
'  sheet,  with  words,  "  The  B.  and  S.  Film 
Co.,  Ltd." 

"  George  Bernard  Shaw,  a  wall-known  play- 
wright."— New  York  Sun. 
We  always  wondered  who  he  was. 

"Specialization    in    each    city    university 
there  will  be  and  ought  to  bj  non  ominia 
Itossutiis  ontdes." — Collegian  (India). 
Our  contemporary    will    specialise  in 
Latin. 


238 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Ai-Bir,  9,  1913. 


SPEIXG  SPOKTS. 

["The  customary  spring  sports  arc  b.'iiig 
l.irgcly  indulged  in." — The  Margate  Cor- 
ratpMMMj  of  "  The  Daily  TfUgraph."] 

WHKN  you  have  regretfully  put  youi 
skis  back  into  their  box,  packed  your 
skates  into  a  brown-paper  parcel  onco 
more,  and  put  the  bob-sleigh  into  cotton- 
wool for  the  summer,  you  may  cheer 
up,  for  there  are  still  the  spring  sports 
at  Margate  to  be  done. 

Donning  your  sand-shoos  and  cala- 
bash pipe,  you  emerge  from  the  board- 
i  ig-house  after  breakfast,  sniffing  up 
tlio  invigorating  east  wind  as  you  go, 
and  proceed  to  the  jetty.  Everybody 
spends  the  morning  on  the  jetty. 

Some  of  London's  most  titled  people 
are  daily  to  be  seen  at  the  slots  there. 
Men  well  known  in  commerce,  art,  law, 
and  the  services  take  very  seriously 
their  daily  recreation  of  working  the 
automatic  machines  with  which  a  far- 
seeing  enterprise  has  so  plentifully 
endowed  this  bracing  resort.  It  is  told 
of  Lord  B.  (with  what  amount  of  truth 
we  do  not  know)  that  in  a  single 
morning  he  had  no  fewer  than  five  out 
of  fourteen  pennies  returned  to  him,  so 
great  was  his  skill. 

For  the  more  ambitious  sportsman 
there  is  the  fishing,  which  is  always  to 
be  obtained  here,  whether  the  water  be 
rough  or  smooth.  A  morning's  catch 
may  vary  from  seven  ounces  to  three 
and  a  quarter  pounds. 

The  afternoon  is  passed  by  the 
liabituts  of  the  place  in  the  healthful 
exercise  of  standing  by  the  flagstaff. 
The  rules  are  very  simple ;  the  only 
condition  of  the  game  is  that  the  player 
must  not  hold  on  to  anything  or  lean 
against  anything;  he  may  have  his 
face  or  his  side  or  his  back  to  the  wind, 
just  as  he  pleases;  all  he  has  to  do  is 
to  stand  for  one  minute.  The  winners 
receive  handsome  bottles  of  cough-mix- 
ture, neuralgia  cure,  and  other  suitable 
gifts. 

The  evening  during  the  spring  sports 
season  at  Margate  is  spent  by  visitors 
pretty  much  as  they  like.    There  are 
certain  police  regulations  which    are 
restrictive  to  some  extent;    but  it  is 
generally  found  that  after  the  rigours 
the  day  in    this  healthy  and  ex- 
iilaratmg  atmosphere,  where,  although 
.he  sun  may  perhaps  be  shining  with 
great  brilliance,  the  coldness  of  the  east 
wind  ism  no  way  mitigated,  the  pastime 
of  the  Tune-table  problem  is  the  most 
popular.     The  successful  competitor  is 
rewarded  by  catching  the  quick  train 
home  on  the  following  morning. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  THE  GREAT  ADVENTURE." 

ILAM  CABVE,  the  great  artist,  was  a 
shy   man   who   shunned   society.     lie 
wandered  about  the  Continent,  attended 
solely  by  a  valet  and  two  moles.     The 
moles   lived  just   beneath    his    collar. 
One  day  (as  sill  the  world  knows  now) 
the  four  of  them  returned  suddenly  to 
England,  and  at  the  very  moment  of. 
arrival  Albert  Shawn,  the  valet,  died. 
Owing     ta     a    misunderstanding    the; 
three  survivors   were   assumed    to   be 
Albert;  and  in  the  evening  editions  the 
death  of  Ham  Carre,  England's  greatest 
artist,  was  sadly  announced,    llam,  too 
shy  to  go  through  the  bother  of  correct- 
ng  the  mistake,  let   it  be;  the  valet 
was  buried  in  the  Abbey  ;  and  Ham  and 


Ham,  Cane  (Mr.  SUNBY  AINLBY).  "I  am 
about  to  tako  my  tie  off.  This  being  England 
the,  curtain  will  bo  lowered  for  a  minute  while 
I  do  so. " 


More  Hunger  Strikes. 

"The  certr-half    neglected    to    feed   her 
inner.-!."— 7/ocJt*!/  Field. 


his  two  moles  started  a  new  existence 
as  Albert  Shawn. 

But  the  three  of  them  were  not 
alone  for  long.  Soon  after  his  funeral 
llam  married  Janet  Cannot,  the  dearest 
little  woman,  who  cared  nothing  for 
art  but  could  manage  a  house.  For 
two  years  they  all  lived  happily  to- 
gether. Then  the  secret  began  to 
come  out.  To  prevent  a  lawsuit  over 
one  of  his  pictures  (recently  painted  and 
apparently,  therefore,  a  forgery)  llam 
was  urged  to  reveal  his  identity.  How 
could  he  establish  it  to  the  satisfaction 
ot  a  man  who  knew  nothing  of  art  ? 
-  ••  Quite  right.  The  two  moles. 

Without  wishing  to  make  a  moun- 
tain out  of  a  mole-hill,  I  could  wish  that 
Mr.  BENNETT  had  managed  his  final 
scene  somehow  else.  He  makes  very 
good  fun  of  the  idea  of  identifying  an 
artist  by  his  neck  rather  than  by  his 
work,  but  this  does  not  excuse  him  for 


falling  back  on  such  an  artifice.  Any- 
way, could  Citrus  Carre  possibly  have 
recognised  or  oven  have  remembered 
his  cousin's  moles  after  twenty-five 
years?  I  have  been  trying  to  recall 
the  exhibits  in  this  line" on  the  necks 
of  my  childhood's  friends,  and  my  mind, 
I  fear,  is  an  entire  blank. 

However,  these  are  trifles.     It  is  the 
characters   of   llam  and   Janet  which 
make  the  play.     Mr.  ABNOLD  BENNETT 
owes  much  to  Mr.  HENBY  AINLEY  and 
Miss  WISH  WYNNE.     As  it  happened, 
I  read  the  pla>    before  I  saw  it,  and  it 
was  amazing  to  find  how  real  and  living 
a  person  Mr.  AINLEY  could  make  llam; 
wonderful  how  delightful  even  the  most 
ordinary  remarks  of  Janet  sounded  from 
the  lips  ot  Miss  WYNNE.     Which  had 
the  greater  triumph  I  cannot  say  ;  they 
were   both    superb.      With   their   help 
Mr.   BENNETT   has    given    us   a   very 
pleasant  entertainment  at  The  Kings- 
way  Theatre.    And  there  is  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  give  us  many  more ; 
for  his  dialogue  is  always  pleasant  and 
easy  and  his  stage-craft  amply  sufficient 
for  his  needs.     But  as  a  satirist  he  is 
rather  ingenuous.     Indeed  at  times  he 
gives  one  the  idea   that  lie   has  only 
just  discovered  London  .  .  .  and  finds 
it  all  very  strange.  j[. 

THE  STRONGEE  LINKS. 
"  WE  should  be  near  the  eighth  green 
now,"  I  said,  as  we  panted  up  the  slope. 
"There  is  a  guide-post  just  on  the  top 
of  the  hill,  and— confound  it !  "  The 
post  had  suddenly  revealed  itself  just 
on  the  top  of  my  nose.  It  was  very 
dark. 

"Never  mind  your  silly  nose,"  said 
Cicely  unfeelingly.  "How  far  arc  \\c 
from  the  green  ?  " 

"Turn   to   the   right,"   I   answered 
"A  little  further  .  .  .  further  yet 
Good!" 

There  was  a  muffled  shriek  from  the 
pot-bunker,  and  I  knew  that  my  nose 
was  avenged. 

"  Don't  trouble  about  getting  all  the 
sand  out  of  your  mouth,"  ladvissd  her. 
"  Some  people  eat  grit  with  every  meal, 
you  know.  It 's  considered  to  be  bene- 
ficial to  the  digestion.  Have  you  ever 
noticed  how  a  dog  ...  Ah,  here  's  the 
flag." 

"Get  out  one  of  the  bottles,"  whis- 
pered Cicely  excitedly. 

"Take  it,"  I  said"  "I  have  come 
with  you  in  fulfilment  of  a  rash  promise, 
but  I  absolutely  decline  to  take  any 
part  in  the  actual  destruction  of  the 
greens.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should 
ever  be  guilty  of  such  sacrilege." 

In  the  darkness  I  heard  the  pop  of  a 
cork,  followed  by  a  gurgle  and  the  faint 
splash  of  a  liquid.  Then  a  glimmer  of 


Aruir,  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,    OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


289 


7# 


THE    POINT-TO-POINT    SEASON. 

("  The  Man  in  Possession.") 
Sportsman  (in  ditch).  "Hi I  HULLO!   DON'T  JDMP  HERE!    THIS  PLACE  13  OCCUWEU I" 


white  appeared  near  my  feet,  which  I 
know  to  bo  a  flag  inscribed  "  Votes  for 
Women." 

"Isn't  it  all  splendid?"  exclaimed 
Cicely,  as  we  made  our  way  stumblingly 
across  to  the  tenth  green.  "  I  feel 
simply  glorious*  Like  JOAN  OF  ABC, 
or — or  Mrs.  DBUMMOND,  you  know. 
Hero  I  am,  helping  on  the  great  Cause 
and  at  the  same  time  putting  a  check 
on  the  selfish  pleasures  of  men." 

"  And  women,"  I  added. 

•::-  «  #  -::-  * 

There  was  a  deep  sigh  as  the  last 
drop  clucked  out  of  the  last  bottle  on 
to  the  sixteenth  green.  Cicely  had  been 
strangely  silent  for  some  time. 

"  After  all,"  she  said  discontentedly, 
"  I  don't  really  know  that  I  'm  glad. 
Golf  is  rather  a  jolly  game,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"More  than  a  game,"  I  suggested. 
"  An  absorbing  pursuit." 

"I've  had  some  good  times  on  the 
links,  loo,"  she  said  wistfully. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  foursome  at 
Si-amoutli,  when  you  had  to  hole  out  a 
twelve-yard  putt  for  a  win,  and  did  it?" 

"Don't,"  she  pleaded.  "Do  you 
think  it  does  advance  the  Cause  to 
destroy  golf  greens?  " 

"On  the  contrary,"  I  replied,  "I'm 


convinced  that  it  has  precisely  the 
opposite  effect.  I  regard  the  proceeding 
with  utter  abhorrence." 

"  Then  I  think  you're  psrfectly  horrid 
to  have  let  me  come,"  she  burst  out. 
"  Why  didn't  you  stop  me?  " 

"Stop  you!  I  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  stop  a  runaway  motor-'bus. 
So  these  are  all  the  thanks  I  get  for 
undertaking  all  this  discomfort  and 
risk  out  of  mere  Quixotic  chivalry !  " 

"  I  wish  we  hadn't  done  it,"  she 
moaned.  "  I  wish  to  goodness  we 
hadn't  done  it  now." 

"That's  all  right,  Cicely,"  I  said 
cheerfully.  "  I  rather  expected  this. 
That 's  why  I  emptied  out  your  corrosive 
acid  before  we  started,  and  filled  the 
bottles  with  water." 


"Mr.  Hill  acted  as  best  man.  After  the 
ceremony  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill  left  for  their 
honeymoon . ' ' — Folkestone  Express. 

Very  careless  of  the  clergyman  to  have 
married  the  bride  to  the  best  man. 


1 '  Mr.  George  wormly  replied  that  ho  had 
already  answered  several  times  certain  ques- 
tions put  to  him." — -The  Globe. 
Even  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
will  turn. 


BEFOEE    THE    TOUENEY. 

IN  days  of  old  the  ladye  fay  re 

Would  gird  her  true  knight's  armour 

on, 
Hand  him  the  sword  he  wished  to  wear, 

The  breastplate  he  designed  to  don 
Ere  sallying  forth  to  baudy  cracks 
With  his  ancestral  battle-axe. 

You  can't  do  that,  my  Marguerite, 
Since  breastplates  are  no  longer  made, 

And  I  perform  each  lusty  feat 

Ungarnished  by  the  hardware  trade. 

The  battle-axe  remains,  'tis  true  ; 

It  cuts  the  firewood  up  for  you. 

But  one  thing  you  can  do  for  me 
Or  e'er  I  go  to  face  the  foe, 

Thus  proving  your  equality 

With  those  dead  dames  of  long  ago. 

Your  true  love  looks  to  you  for  that ; 

Dearest,  wilt  oil  my  cricket  bat  ? 

"  '  Aeneas  Caning  Anchises '  fetched  £550." 
Daily  Telegraph. 

Is  this  the  way  to  treat  a  father  ? 


"Pigs  wholesale  16,  retail  14  a  shilling." — 
Adi-t.  in  "  South  Gloucestershire  Chronicle." 

We  '11  have  sixpenny  worth. 


290 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON_CHAMVABI1 


9,  1913. 


"ALL   IN   A   GARDEN    FAIR." 

I  KNEW  a  man,  a  mild  and  cheerful  soul, 
Whoso  fancy  cherished  for  its  earthly  goal 
\  garden  of  his  own.    For  many  a  year 
His  villa  with  its  cat-run  in  the  rear 
And  one  smut-blackened  tree  were  all  he    ad, 
But  some  good  neighbour's  garden  made  him  glad, 
And  sun  and  rain  and  every  plant  that  grows, 
The  modest  daisy  no  less  than  the  rose 
Were  his  close  friends;  and  he  would  stroll  about 
\,1. niring  hov;  the  things  were  coming  out, 
\nd  fruits  and  flowers  and  every  singing  bird 
A  friendly  envy  of  his  neighbour  stirred ; 
And  oft  he'd  quote,  meandering  round  the  spot, 
••  A  garden  is  a  lovesome  thing,  God  wot ! 
Then  came  a  day  when  fortune,  cruel-kind, 
Gave  him  the  very  garden  to  his  mind, 
Grateful  he  cried,  "  Sweet  pleasaunce  all  my  own, 
No  hireling  hands  shall  tend  thee,  mine  alone ! 
And  casting  off  his  coat,  as  I  've  been  told, 
He  sallied  forth  to  tend  his  precious  mould. 

The  seasons  came  and  went,  and,  on  a  day, 

It  chanced  I  journeyed  down  my  old  friend's  way, 

And  thought  to  find  him,  in  some  happy  hour, 

A  blissful  Adam  in  his  Eden  bower. 

I  called,  and  from  his  flower-beds  in  he  came, 

But  aged  he  seemed,  with  bended  form,  and  lame, 

It  would  appear  he  'd  lately  sprained  his  back 

Lugging  some  seed-potatoes  in  a  sack. 

"  Well,  and  how  goes  the  garden,  friend?  "  I  said. 

He  eyed  me  with  suspicion,  shook  his  head, 

And  put  me  off ;  some  blighting  chance,  'twould  seem, 

Had  dimmed  the  lustre  of  his  former  dream, 

And,  as  within  that  earliest  home  of  ours, 

A  fatal  serpent  lurked  amid  the  flowers, 

He,  too,  had  sighed,  with  all  who  goalward  strive— 

"  Better  to  journey  hopeful  than  to  arrive." 


A  genial  soul  of  old,  on  great  and  small 
He  used  to  smile,  and  found  some  good  in  all ; 
But  now  what  hates  fill  that  once  friendly  mind 
Of  slugs  and  mice,  birds,  boys,  weeds,  wet  and  wind  ! 
He  dreams  of  deadliest  poison  for  the  rats 
And  sets  wire-nooses  for  his  neighbours'  cats ; 
While  that  small  daisy-friend  of  days  gone  by, 
She  gets  the  weed- destroyer  in  her  eye. 
Once,  did  a  blackbird  deign  from  that  sole  treo 
To  flood  the  backyard  with  its  minstrelsy, 
Raptured,  with  good  AQUINAS  he  would  cry, 
"  Hark, '  ubi  aves,  ibi  angeli ! ' ' 
Now,  at  the  first  notes,  all  his  thoughts  are  set 
On  cherries  plundered  'neath  their  guardian  net ; 
Oriet  a  bullfinch  pipe,  and,  with  a  frown, 
"  My  buds !  "  he  cries,  and  grabs  his  shot-gun  down. 
No  fat-filled  cocoa-nut  now  tempts  the  tits, 
They,  too,  nip  buds  and  must  be  blown  to  bits. 
Once,  though  the  rain  were  pelting  cats  and  dogs, 
Turning  that  neighbour's  flower-beds  to  bogs, 
He  d  quote  (who  is  it  ?)  with  a  cheerful  voice, 
Smiling, "  If  heaven  sends  rain,  why  rain 's  my  choice  !  " 
But  let  heaven  try  it  now,  and  hear  him  shout, 
"  Confound  the  wet — washing  my  seedlings  out ! " 
Once,  a  sun-worshipper,  he  'd  bask  and  brown 
A  month  on  end ;  now,  let  the  sun  beam  down 
For  one  blest  week,  he  scowls  and  fags  about, 
Weighed   down   with   watering  -  pots,   and  drats  the 
drought. 


So  day  by  day  he  casts  indignant  eyes 
Upon  eacli  changing  aspect  of  the  skies ; 
And  every  night  before  he  goes  to  bed 
Bangs  the  barometer  and  shakes  his  head— 
A  worn  disproof,  whate'er  its  inward  grace, 
That  "  honest  labour  wears  a  lovely  face !  " 
Poor  chap !     I  know  now  when  I  look  on  you 
Why  "  Mary,  Mary  "  so  "  contrairy  "  grew  : 
Still,  rain  or  shine,  the  primal  curse  holds  out : 
Who  tills  the  earth  pays  the  old  price,  no  doubt. 
But,  ere  that  ban  a  kindly  soul  can  sour, 
And  blight  for  good  your  joy  in  fruib  and  flower, 
And  lest  the  clay  you  're  made  of,  some  ill  day, 
Hurl  down  the  hoe  and  curse  its  fellow  clay, 
Be  wise,  good  friend,  before  it  grows  too  late, 
And  let  the  jobbing  gardener  through  your  gate. 

THE   THRUSH'S   SONG. 

DEAR  SIB,— I  am  a  naturalist  of  considerable  (local) 
repute,  and  my  latest  self-appointed  task  has  been  the 
study  of  bird-songs,  and  their  translation,  as  far  as  possible, 
into  human  language.  It  may  interest  you  to  know  that 
my  researches  have  enabled  me  to  disprove  the  popular 
fallacy  that  the  Tnrdus  musicus  (common  song  thrush) 
warbles  his  roulades  and  cadenzas  for  the  allurement  and 
gratification  of  his  mate.  This  is  not  the  case,  for,  far  from 
being  of  an  amorous  nature,  tlie  vocal  outbursts  of  our 
speckled-breasted  songster  are  nothing  more  or  less  than 
a  caustic  criticism  on  the  manners  and  appearance  of  his 
hated  rival  on  the  next  tree  but  one. 

In  submitting  my  translation  herewith,  I  beg  to  mention 
that  my  garden  is  situated  within  the  ten-mile  radius,  where 
.the  birds  sing  with  a  slightly  Cockney  accent. 

First  Thrush. 

"Swank!     Swank!     Swank!     Swank!     Swank! 
Get  yer  beak  clipped!     Get  yer  beak  clipped!     Got  yer 

beak  clipped ! 

Tut!  Tut!  Tut!  Tut!  Tut!  Tut! 
Silly  fool!    Silly  fool!    Silly  fool!     Silly  fool! 
Cheese  it,  do !     Cheese  it,  do !     Cheese  it,  do ! 
Naughty!     Naughty!     Naughty!     Naughty! 
Pip,  pip !    Pip,  pip !     Pip,  pip ! 
Swelled  head  and  empty  too!     Swelled  head  and  empty 

too !     Swelled  head  and  empty  too ! 
She's  a  peach,  peach,  peach,  peach,  peach,  peach,  PEACH! 
For  you  to  eat  ?    For  you  to  eat  ?    For  you  to  eat  ? 
I  don't  think !     I  don't  think !     I  don't  think  1 
Cool  cheek !     Cool  cheek !     Cool  cheek ! 
I  fill  the  bill— I  'm  It !     I  fill  the  bill— I  'm  It  I     I  fill  the 

bill— I  'm  It ! "     (Pause  to  take,  breath  and  a  passing  fly.) 


Second  Thrush. 

"Swank!     Swank!     Swank!     Swank!     Swank!" 

(and  so  on  to  end). 

If  any  of  your  readers  are  inclined  to  doubt  this  inter- 
pretation, I  merely  ask  them  to  step  into  any  London  park 
or  garden  and  test  its  accuracy  for  themselves. 

Yours  faithfully,      OBSERVANT  ORNITHOLOGIST. 


The  duties  of  a  Surveyor  are  arduous.     We  read  in  Tht 
Sanitary  Record  and  Municipal  Engineering — 

"The  Wells  Urban  District  Council  have  been  inviting  tenders  foi 
the  purchase  of  a  rotary  road  sweeping  machine,  and  the  Surveyi 
has  been   instructed  to  go  through  same,   and  report  to  the  I 
meeting." 

We  hope  he  '11  come  out  all  right. 


A*BIL  9,  19.13.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


291 


i 

(,\    ,n    TI«H  -.;.-  r  ,.J... 

-• 


• 

'   , 


(Mother,  trying  to  soothe  restless  infant,  changes  it  over  to  'her  other  arm.} 
Nervous  Gentleman.  "Hi!   DON'T  POINT  THAT  THING  AT  ME,  MY  GOOD  WOMAN! 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

Boy  Scouts  Beyond  the  Seas  (PEARSON)  is  the  outcome 
of  Lt.-Gen.  Sir  EOBERT  BADEN-POWELL'S  "  recent  tour  of 
inspection  among  the  Boy  Scouts,  not  only  in  our  overseas 
dominions,  but  also  in  the  United  States,  Japan  and  China," 
and  in  several  European  countries.  The  book  should,  I 
imagine,  appeal  urgently  to  those  for  whom  it  has  been 
written,  and,  at  any  rate,  I  can  vouch  for  the  fact  that  it  is 
a  wondrous  mine  of  information.  Do  you,  for  instance, 
know  what  the  word  "  buccaneer  "  originally  meant,  and 
can  you  explain  why  the  kea  is  an  extraordinarily 
unpleasint  bird?  Then  again  I  discovered  that  Sir 
ROHEIIT  is  "  generally  up  before  half-past  five,"  and  this 
was  aU:o  news  to  me.  I  think,  however,  that  to  tell  a 
Boy  Scout  that  "  a  fathom  is  six  feet  "  is — or  ought  to  be — 
rather  unnecessary.  The  narrative  is  interspersed  with 
little  quips — I  can  hardly  call  them  jokes — which  are 
apparently  intended  to  help  the  reader's  digestion.  That 
they  did  not  assist  mine  is  probably  just  as  it  should  be, 
and  I  am  very  content  to  believe  that  Sir  EGBERT  under- 
stands to  perfection  both  the  matter  that  Boy  Scouts 
ought  to  have  and  the  manner  in  which  they  must  have  it. 

I  solemnly  curse  that  kindly  disposition,  innate  in  all 
reviewers,  whereby  they  are  prompted  to  say  a  good  word 
for  all  and  sundry  and  are  left  with  no  adequate  means  of 
advertising  real  achievement  when  they  come  across  it.  I 
would  at  this  moment  be  re-possessed  of  all  the  superlatives 


I  have  squandered  that  I  might  spend  them  in  the  praise 
of  Mrs.  BELLOC  LOWNDES"  Studies  in  Love  and  in  Terror 
(METHUEN).  That  title  not  only  indicates  exactly  what  the 
reader  may  expect  to  find  inside  the  cover  but  it  is  typical 
of  Mrs.  LOWNDES'  method  of  getting  to  business.  When 
less  gifted  authors  would  have  searched  high  and  low  for  a 
captivating  phrase,  she  is  content  quietly  to  explain  the 
position,  and  this,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  is  what 
authors  as  well  as  titles  are  for.  Mrs.  LOWNDES  fulfils  her 
purpose  excellently ;  having  read  her,  you  say,  not  "  What 
a  way  she  has  of  expressing  things!"  but,  "What  things 
she  has  a  way  of  expressing! '  Yet  her  art,  if  it  is  hidden, 
is  there ;  for  her  style,  which  no  one  would  examine  but  a 
critic,  is  found  upon  such  examination  to  be  exquisite.  Of 
five  faultless  stories,  the  first,  "Price  of  Admiralty,"  is 
perhaps  the  best;  the  situation  of  Jacques  de  Wissant, 
Mayor  of  Falaise,  bourd  by  his  public  duty  to  pay  honour  to 
the  brave  dead,  who  is  at  that  moment  first  known  to  him  to 
be  his  own  wife's  lover,  is  a  masterpiece  of  irony  in  conception 
and  exposition.  The  four  which  follow  lack  only  the  striking 
novelty  of  the  first ;  their  circumstances  are  more  familiar, 
but  otherwise  their  merit  is  the  same.  Indeed  and  in  short, 
the  stories  have  been  to  me,  and  must  be  to  all  who  read 
them,  five  very  thrilling  experiences. 

Never  having  read  He  Who  Passed,  I  am  unable  to  claim 
any  share  in  the  pleasant  things  that  its  author  says  of  the 
critics  of  this  work,  in  dedicating  to  them  her  latest  pro- 
duction, The  Life  Mask  (HEINEMANN).  As  I  understand, 
however,  that  the  one  was  supposed  to  be  fact,  while  the 


292 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


9,  1913. 


oilier  is  admittedly  fiction,  I  have  no  hesitation  ia  calling 
die  latter  the  better  of  the  two.  Comparisons  apart,  more- 
over, The  Life  Ma  si;  struck  mo  as  being  a  highly  remark- 
able novel,  with  a  plot  both  striking  and  original,  and 
written  in  a  style  quite  distinctive  and  charming.  Like 
all  stories  whose  theme  is  "  wrop  in  mystery,"  it  is 
difficult  to  criticise  without  revealing  the  secret  and  thus 
depriving  the  author  of  her  chief  effect.  This  I  will  cer- 
tainly not  do.  From  the  moment  of  your  introduction  to 
•Inila,  the  girl-widow,  living  apparently  in  hiding  as  the 
•niest  of  her  devoted  old  nurse,  and  haunted  by  dreams  of 
some  hideous  tragedy 'that  has  ruined  her  life,  you  naturally 
want  to  know  what  this  was.  For  Anita,  pleasure  is 
supposed  to  he  over;  there  is  nothing  before  her  but  to 
e\Ut  unnoticed  and,  if  possible,  forgotten.  But  old  Sarah 
thinks  otherwise,  and  takes  her  charge  to  Spain,  where,  in 
an  exquisite  old  garden,  the  inevitable  man  appears.  He 
and  Anita  are  lovers  at  sight ;  but  there  is  still  the  sinister 
and  horrible  secret  as  a  barrier  between  them.  Perhaps 
the  secret  itself  is  so  obvious  that  I  might  have  betrayed  it 
with  no  great  harm  to  your 
enjoyment.  But  the  final 
removal  of  the  barrier — ah  1 
no  power  should  make  me 
anticipate  the  manner  of 
this.  I  shall  just  say  that 
seldom,  if  ever,  has  a  tale 
given  me  so  genuine  a  sur- 
prise or  such  an  unex- 
pectedly creepy  sensation. 
And  of  course,  looking  back, 
that  explains  everything.  It 
certainly  makes  a  haunting 
end  to  an  unusual  book. 


I    -, 


Pension  Officer.  "WELL,  MICHAEL,  so  YOU 'BE  LIVING  YET?" 
Michael  (nged  75),  "'DEED,  AN'  I  AM,  Son;   AN'  I  ALWAYS  KOTICE 

THAT    ANNY    YEAR   I   DOIt'l    DIB    IN    MARCH   I   DOS'!    VIE    AT    ALL    THAT 
SBAB." 


It  is  very  hard  to  know 
what  to  make  of  Hcnnj 
Kemplon,  officer  in  the 
English  army,  who  bounds 
as  it  were  from  the  brain 
of  EVEL.YN  BRENTWOOD  and 
The  Bodley  Head.  The 
son  of  a  plebeian  furniture 
dealer,  lie  is  consumed  with 
an  ambition  for  social  pro- 
gress not  unlike  that  of  GEOUQE  GISSINO'S  tragical  figures, 
and,  on  the  advice  of  a  duke's  daughter  whom  he  hap- 
pens to  meet  at  a  very  mixed  garden  party,  enters  the 
24th  Hussars.  In  this  regiment,  which  seems  to  be  all 
at  twenty-sixes  and  twenty-sevens,  he  falls  under  the 
influence  of  Major  the  Honourable  John  Carados,  a 
soldier  whose  immorality  and  cynicism  are  only  equalled 
by  his  fearlessness  and  efficiency.  When  this  gentleman 
commits  suicide  through  disappointment  in  a  sordid  Jove 
affair,  Henry  follows  the  advice  of  his  idol  to  the  extent  of 
obtaining  the  V.C.  solely  in  order  to  advertise  himself,  but 
is  too  cold-blooded  to  experience  sentimental  emotion  and 
becomes  engaged  to  Lady  Violet  liavcnscroft  without  having 
a  particle  of  affection  for  her.  The  problem  before  the 
writer  appears  to  be  to  make  him  sufficiently  human  to 
satisfy  the  demands  of  romantic  heroism.  The  difficulty  is 
solved  by  the  curious  expedient  of  making  him  suddenly 
cast  aside  his  asceticism  and  betray  his  troth  to  his  fiancee, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Boer  War,  with  a  Dutch  woman  who 
aims  at  playing  the  role  of  Jael  and  leads  Henry  and  his 
regiment  into  a  trap  in  which  most  of  them  are  assassinated. 
Grievously  wounded,  he  is  forgiven  by  Lady  Violet,  and  the 
novel  ends  happily  on  this  agreeable  note/  The  grammar 
of  this  book  is  almost  as  improbable  as  some  of  its  incidents, 


but  there  is  a  certain  rude  force  about  many  of  the  scenes 
that  made  mo  not  nearly  so  much  distressed  by  these 
deficiencies  as  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  be. 

There  are  those  who  object  to  Mr.  PETT  RIDGE'S  humour 
on  the  ground  of  its  unvarying  Pett-Bidgidity.  They 
complain  that  it  tends  to  become  mere  stereo.  It  is  true 
that  it  has  not  a  very  wide  range ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  seldom  fails  to  sparkle  and  be  exhilarating;  and  I  for 
one  have  no  quarrel  with  a  bottle  of  champagne  because  it 
resembles  other  bottles  of  champagne  which  may  have 
come  my  way.  The  PKTT  RIDGK  joke  is  constructed  on  a 
formula  easy  to  understand  but  hard  to  imitate.  It  looks 
simpler  than  it  is.  Thus,  in  his  latest  work,  a  Super- 
intendent, discussing  the  tracking  of  certain  evil-doers, 
says  to  the  bungling  station-detective,  "  Will  you  keep  your 
eyes  open,  Sergeant — ,"  pauses  and  adds,  "  and  look  out 
for  another  berth."  That  sort  of  thing  seems  tolerably 
easy,  yet  the  fact  remains  that  Mr.  PETT  RIDGE  is  the  only 
writer,  except  Mr.  W.  W.  JACOBS,  who  does  it  even 

passably  well.  It  is  the 
humour  of  unexpectedness, 
a  polished  version  of  that 
which  earns  the  music-hall 
cross-talk  comedians  their 
vast  salaries.  All  of  which 
is  leading  up  to  the  state- 
ment that,  if  Mr.  PETT 
RIDGE'S  other  collections  of 
sketches  have  pleased  you, 
you  will  like  Mixed  Grill 

(HODDEB  AND  STOUGHTON). 

You  may  find  one  or  two 
stories  in  the  book  hardly 
worth  reprinting,  but  the 
majority  are  of  a  quality 
deserving  the  dignity  of 
stiff  red  covers.  "  The  Rest 
Cure  "  is  perhaps  the  best 
of  the  fifteen,  with  "  Loose 
Cash  "  a  good  sesond;  and, 
as  for  the  book  as  a  whole, 
I  quote  Mr.  PETT  RIKGK'S 
waiter,  "  You  may  not  like 
all  of  it,  but  what  you 


don't  care  for  you  can  easily  leave." 


REVENGE. 

You  ancient  sisters  twain  who  glowered  at  me 
When,  having  almost  missed  my  train  at  Harwich, 

I,  mazed  by  bawling  porters,  breathlessly 
Blundered  into  your  carriage, 

It  was  not  kind,  nay,  cruel  'twas  of  you 

To  show  how  much  you  loathed  my  forced  intrusion : 
The  advent  of  some  wild  beast  from  the^Zoo 

Had  scarce  wrought  worse  confusion. 

But,  oh,  I  scored !     For  when  we  came  to  where 
The  tunnel  runs  between  those  last  two  stations, 

Safe  in  the  dark,  I  gave  the  ambient  air 
Six  sounding  osculations. 

Then,  with  the  daylight,  as  I  rose  to  reach 

My  bag  down — just  a  swift  glance  towards  you 
daring — - 

I  joyed  to  see  with  stern  conviction  each 
At  the  other  grimly  glaring. 


APRIL  1C,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON -CHARIV  AIM. 


293 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  Tnu:s  points  out  that  a  feature 
of  tho  proposed  levy  on  property  in 
Germany  will  bo  an  attempt  to  make 
all  foreigners  who  are  engaged  in  pro- 
fitable occupations  in  that  country  take 
their  full  share  in  this  work  of  German 
self-sacrifice.  It  is  unlikely  that  an 
exception  will  bo  made  even  in  favour 
of  Englishmen.  #  + 
* 

Tho  British  steamer  Taion  reports, 

on   her  arrival   at   Hong    Kong,   that 

pirates  who  had  booked  as 

passengers    have    risen    and 

iiiunlered  some  of  the  other 

passengers,  and  succeeded  in 

getting  away  with  a  consider- 
able quantity  of   booty.     To 

avoid  a  repetition  of  tho  inci- 
dent it  is  proposed  that  in 

future  all  pirates  before  book- 
ing as   passengers   shall   be 

required  to  wear  jerseys  with 

a  skull  and  cross-hones  plainly 

embroidered  on  the  front. 

*...* 
Lord  DENHIGH,  Colonel  of 

tho  I1.A.O.,  has  been  drawing 

attention   to   our  system   of 

training  tlio  Territorial  artil- 
lery.    The  men,  it  seems,  are 

supplied  with  obsolete  guns, 

and  aro  allowed  to  practise 

only  onco  in  two  years.    The 

'  'limitation  to  an  enemy  to 
over  and  invade  us  in 

tlio   year   during    which  the 

H.A.O.  has  had  no  practice 

must  be  almost  irresistible. 

*...* 
Tho  second  volume  of  TJic 

Life  of  Dai' id  Lloyd  George 

has  appeared.    To  those  on 

the  look-out  for  a  good 

investment • 

*** 

Mr.  ASQUITH,  a  parlia- 
<  nicntary  reporter  informs  us, 
!  has  had  his  hair  cut  closely 

at  tho  back  and  sides.  We  should  bavo 
j  thought  that  if  ever  there  was  a  time 
'  when  it  was  essential  that  the  PBEMIEB 

should  keep  his  hair  on  it  is  the  present. 

*  * 

There  is,  of  course,  no  truth  whatever 

in  tho  absurd  rumour  that  tho  reason 

why    the    PBEMIEB    has    altered    his 

appearance  is  that  he  has  been  gambling 

wished  to  baffle  tho  police. 

*  * 

It  is  curious  how  often  animal-lovers 
aro  indifferent  to  the  suffering  of  their 
own  species.  It  is  reported  that,  in 
!"T  present  libel  action,  Miss  LIND-AF- 
llu.r.ity,  tlio  anti-vivisectionist,  pro- 
poses to  address  the  judge  and  jury  for 
a  space  of  twenty-four  hours. 


The  Suffragettes'  policy  of  burning 
down  houses  is,  we  learn  from  head- 
quarters, proving  a  most  successful 
one,  a  number  of  well-insured  builders 
•having  been  recently  converted  to  their 

views.  $  + 

* 

A  correspondent  who  has  been  reading 
about  tho  damago  done  to  valuable 
pictures  at  Manchester  by  tho  Suffra- 
gettes respectfully  draws  tho  ladies' 
attention  to  tho  works  of  the  Post-Im- 
pressionists at  present  on  view  in 
"London. 


still.  They  will,  on  payment  of  the 
usual  fare,  welcome  not  only  dogs,  but 
any  of  the  milder  animals,  such  as  doves, 
ant-eaters,  deer,  slothrj,  elephants  and 
silk-worms.  +  ^ 

* 

Torquay  has  decided  to  celebrate  the 
centenary  of  WAONEIS'S  birth  by  holding 
a  WAQNEB  festival.  This  is  a  much 
better  idea  than  giving  a  Rag-Tirno 
concert  in  honour  of  the  occasion. 


TJia 
article 


Family  Doctor  publishes  an 
on  tho  value  of  onions.  Our 
contemporary,  however, 
omits  to  mention  one  of  their 
most  useful  qualities.  The 
onion-cater  never  suffers  from 
overcrowding. 

*  * 

Wo  cannot  agree  with  Mr. 
WATSON'S  allegation  that  no 
one  nowadays  cares  much  for 
poetry.  Why, 'only  the  other 
day,  in  ono  of  tho  poorest 
districts,  we  came  across  tlio 
following  notice  on  the  win- 
dow of  a  little  third  -  rate 
crockery  shop : — 

"  ALT,  KINDS  OP  POTEBY 

SOLD  HEBE." 

*  * 

At  Oaken,  near  Wolvcr- 
hampton,  some  men  who 
broke  into  the  residence  of  a 
local  ironmaster  not  only 
stripped  the  house  of  silver 
and  plate,  but  also  burst  open 
the  children's  money-box  and 
took  the  contents.  It  looks 
as  if  our  burglars  arc  losing 
all  theirpretty  sentimentality. 


"  Mi.w  Annie  Kenny,  the  Suf- 
fragette leader,  appeared  at  Bow- 
street  Police-court  thig  afternoon 
under  a  statue  of  Kdward  the 
Third.  .  .  .  The  crowd  was  crowded 
with  well-dressed  Suffragettes."  — 
Evening  News. 

We    cannot    help    thinking 
As,  however,  the  Futurist  painter,  |  that  a  statue  of  BoADicEAor  JOAN  OF  ABC 
GINO    SGVERIKI,    declares    himself    a  would  have  been  more  appropriate.     It 
"  Dynamist  "  it  is  possible  that  he  and  might  have  made  the  crowd  even  more 
tho  Suffragettes  have  much  in  common,  crowded. 


Oirncr  of  Motor-boat  (to  friftid).  "GEi:t    THAT  WAS 

SQUEAK.      I  GCESg   WE   SCARED  THOSE   BEGGAIiS   6OME." 


The  instalment  system  seems  to  be 
gaining  in  public  favour.  A  mother  at 
Barrow  in  Lancashire  has  given  birth 
to  a  twin  six  weeks  after  tho  arrival  of 
its  young  relative. 


*  * 


Tho  Tramways  Committee  of  the 
Middlesex  County  Council  propose  to 
allow  dogs  to  be  carried  on  their  cars. 
The  London  County  Council  Tram- 
ways Committee,  whose  receipts  have 


"Auri  Sacra  Fames." 
"News  has  been  received  that  Miss  H.  O. 
Pagan,  a  nurso  at  Modderfontein,  is  the  win- 
ner of  a  competition  set  by  tho  Khodcsian 
Kistoddfod  for  a  South  African  National 
Anthem.  The  anthem  runs  : 

Gold  bless  and  keep  our  land  !  " 

Daily  Mail. 

"  Pagan  "  seems  the  right  word. 


A  detective  and  nn  alleged  burglar  h  id  a 
fierce  strupglo  in  a  beer-house  with  an  off- 
licence  at  Sunderland  early  yesterday  morn- 


recently    been    dwindling,    are,    it    is  i  ing." — Daily  Mail. 

rumoured,  contemplating  going  further  |  Savage  things  these  off-licences. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON^CHAEIVARL 


[APRIL  16,  1913. 


THOUGHTS    ON    SPRING    TROUSERINGS. 

[••Did  you  ever  sec  a  man  whose  suit  was  made  of  precisely  the 

•  illi-rn    rlnth    :is    \<mr    own?    ...  t«ofo    in 

m  still  lo,,kin«  for  the  mm  who  affeets  my  identical  taste 
modem  tweeds."—"  The  Office  Window"  oj  "  Ihc  Daily  Vt 

WHF.X  critics  in  a  captious  koy 

Eeiterate  the  old,  old  twaddlo 
That  men  in  outward  form  agreo 
Like  vegetables— pea  and  pea — 

Made  on  the  selfsame  model, 

I  answer,  "  Tut ! "  and  turn  to  muse 

Upon  the  splendid  thought  how  nob  is 
The  wealth  and  varied  range  of  views 
Exposed  by  people  when  they  choose 
Some  vernal  scheme  in  breeches. 

Whether  a  chaste  or  loud  design, 

Their  choice  is  individualistic; 
Within'  the  tailor's  awful  shrine 
Each  separate  soul  adopts  a  lino 

Aloof  and  almost  mystic. 

But  men  are  countless  as  the  dew; 

And  since,  in -even  Spring's  profusion, 
Patterns  are  relatively  few, 
A  single  typo  may  servo  for  two 

Without  the  least  collusion. 

Hence  the  engaging  fancy  cheers 

My  breast  like  wine  amid  carousers — 
That  somewhere  in  this  Vale  of  Tears 
There"  moves  a  man  of  middle  years 
Who  shares  my  taste  in  trousers. 

Him  should  I  meet,  and  mark  the  same 

Continuations  on  his  leg,  oh, 
Oh  then  I  'd  wrap  mo  round  his  framo 
With  instant  ardour  and  exclaim, 

"My  twinl    my  alter  ego  I" 


But  ah !    my  heart — I  dare  not  think 

How  it  would  chirrup  like  a  cello 
If  he,  the  sage  of  pen  and  ink, 
Who  paints  "The  Office  Window 
Should  prove  to  be  my  fellow! 


pink, 


o.  s. 


THE    WAR. 

THE  girl  who  helped  in  the  opposite  flat  was  talking  to 
the  porter  on  the  ground  floor  landing  : — • 

"  All  I  can  say  is,  I  wish  this  'ere  war  was  over  and  done 
for,  but  I  suppose  if  it  wasn't  the  war  it  'd  be  somethin 
else.  Father  and  Uncle  Bill  do  get  that  'ot  with  one 
another  whenever  they  meets,  I  wonder  they  care  to  go  on 
visitin',  but  father  says  'e's  got  'is  family  feelin's  and  Uncle 
Bill  says  'e  won't  never  give  us  up,  'im  bein'  mother's  only 
brother  and  'avin'  a  nice  little  bit  o'  property — 'ouses,  you 
know,  and  that  kind  o'  thing.  So  there  they  go  quarrellin' 
and  'avin'  a  scrap,  and  next  day  or  the  day  arter  they  're 
both  as  lovin'  as  a  pair  o'  saints  in  a  winder. 

"  Last  time  it  was  all  about  LLOYD  GEORGE,  and  they 
finished  up  by  father  chuckin'  a  sossidge  at  Uncle  Bill's 
face — ah,  and  not  missin'  him  neither.  'E's  a  good  un  to 
aim  is  father,  and  when  it  'it  Uncle  Bill  it  went  squelch, 
and  Uncle  Bill  got  more  supper  than  'e  bargin'd  for.  Well, 
they  made  up  that  little  bit  o'  business  through  father 
writin'  to  Uncle  Bill  and  sayin'  'e  forgot  at  the  moment 
'e  'd  got  a  sossidge  in  'is  'and,  and  'e  'oped  it  would  be  took 


n  the  sperit  it  was  offered ;  and  Uncle  Bill  answered  on 
i  lovely  sheet  o'  paper  with  'is  monnygram  in  blue  at  tho 
top,  a  W  and  a  S  all  mixed  up  together  like,  to  stand  for 
William  Sampson,  and  'o  said  'o  wasn't  one  for  bad  blood 
between  brothers-in-lor,  but  'e  was  sorry  about  the  waste 
of  a  good  sossidge,  and  this  oughter  be  a  lesson  to  all 
of  us  not  to  let  our  angry  passions  git  in  the  way  of  our 
friendships,  and  as  to  the  apolligy  'o  accepted  it  and  would 
come  round  soon  and  smoke  the  pipe  o'  peace. 

1  Well,  'e  come  o'  Sunday  night  just  as  mother  and  me 
was  clearin'  up  supper,  and  father  says,  '  Bravo,  Bill,'  'e 
says,  '  you  're  a  man  o'  your  word,'  and  Uncle  Bill  says  that 
nobody's  ever  found  Bill  Sampson  backward  in  that  way. 
I  've  come  arter  supper,'  'e  says  with  a  laugh,  '  so 's  not  to 
git  mixed  up  with  the  eatables  this  time,'  'e  says.  '  It  might 
30  a  pork-pie  next,  and  that  ain't  so  soft  as  a  sossidge,'  and 
;hen  we  all  'ad  a  good  laugh — all  except  father,  and  'e  did 
'is  bist  to  jine  in.  Father's  a  very  generous  man,  but  'e's 
proud,  and  I  could  see  'e  didn't  relish  Uncle  Bill  illudin'  to 
the  little  contrytemps — that 's  what  Undo  Bill  called  it  in 
"is  joky  way.  It 's  the  same  as  what  we  call  a  rough  and 
tumble. 

Father  and  Uncle  Bill  lit  their  pipes  and  then  they  got 
to  work  on  their  talkin'.  They  started  about  the  war,  and 
father  'e  says,  'I  don't  'old  with  this  'ere  naval  deming- 
stration,'  'e  says.  '  I  'm  for  the  Montynegroes,'  'e  says,  '  and 
I  don't  see  what  call  we  've  got  to  put  no  .pressure  on  'em. 
They  're  little  uns,'  'e  says,  '  but  they  're  plucky,  and  I  can't 
abear  to  see  them  big  bullies  set  about  them..  That  ain't  a 
proper  use  for  our  Dreadnoughts.' 

That 's  •  all  very  well,'  says  Uncle  Bill ;    '  but  you  're 
forgittin'  the  balince  o'  power.' 

"  '  What 's  that  ?  '  says  father. 

"  '  It 's  this,'  says  Uncle  Bill.  '  Supposin'  you  was  to  go 
and  grab  'old  of  a  pot  o'  money  that  don't  belong  to  you  — 

"  '  'E  'd  never  do  that,"  says  mother.  '  'E  ain't  one  o' 
that  sort.' 

"  '  Ah,  but  I  'm  supposin','  says  Uncle  Bill.  '  It 's  only 
'ipothical,'  'e  says,  or  some  such  word  us  that.  '  I  'in  not 
really  sayin'  'e  'd  go  for  to  pinch  what  don't  belong  to  'im.1 

"  '  And  you  'd  better  not,  Bill  Samps.on,'  says  father. 
'  But  let 's  'ear  a  bit  more  about  this  'ere  balince  o'  yourn.' 

"'Let's  say  as  I  pinched  the.  money,'  says  Uncle  Bill. 
'  Well,  if  we  wos  both  Great  Powers  and  you  come  along, 
you  'd  'ave  the  right  to  make  me  give  you  'alf  on  it." 

"  '  Is  that  the  lor  ? '  says  father. 

"  '  That 's  the  concert  o'  Europe,'  says  Uncle  Bill. 

"'Then,'  says  father,,'!  don't  want  no  more  o'  your 
concerts.  I  '11  'ave  no  second  'elpin'  o'  that  dish.  I  'm  a 
Montynegro,  I  am,  and  I  don't  care  'oo  'ears  me  say  it.' 

"'But,'  says  Uncle  Bill,  'the  Austrians  are  mobilisin' 
their  army.' 

.    "  '  Let  'em  mobilise,'  says  father.     '  They  won't  'urt  no- 
body but  theirselves.     They  're  all  talk.' 

"  '  They  're  not  the  only  ones,'  says  Uncle  Bill.  '  There 's 
others  can  do  a  bit  o'  talkin'  too.' 


" '  Meanin'  yourself,  I  suppose,'  says  father. 

"  '  No,'  says  Uncle  Bill,  '  ineanin'  you.' 

" '  Now,  look  'ere,  Bill  Sampson,'  says  father, 


I  've  'ae 


too  much  o'  you  and  your  balinccs  and  your  concerts  o' 
Europe.  You  're  enough  to  make  a  monkey  cry  with  your 
bully  in'  nonsense.  If  you  can't  argue  no  better  than  that, 
go  and  do  it  somewhere  else.' 

"  Uncle  Bill  give  'im  a  look,  and  then  'e  put  on  'is  'at  and 
went  out  o'  the  door ;  but  'e  'adn't  bin  gorn  more  'n  'alf  a 
minute  before  'e  puts  'is  'ead  in  agin  and  shouts,  '  Abar 
Montynegro!'  I  dunno  what  'e  meant.  Father  'eaved  u 
cushin  at  'im,  but  Unclo  was  too  quick.  We  ain't  seen 
'im  since." 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— Ai-nir,   Ifl,  1913. 


PROFESSIONAL    JEALOUSY. 


PRESIDENT  WOODKOW  WILSON.  "  HE 'S    SUFFERING    FROM    EXCESS    OF    TARIFF.      I     SHALL 
HAVE    TO    REDUCE    HIM." 

MH.  BONAB  LAW.  "  I    WISH    I    HAD    A    PATIENT    WITH    HALF    HIS    COMPLAINT." 


ArniL  1C,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CIIAIMVAIM. 


2U7 


"WHAT  A  VERT  XICE  LITTLE  EOT  FREDDT  is— so  QUIET  AND  WELL-BEHAVED." 

I'M  BLOWED!    You  MOTHERS  ARE  RUM!    THAT'S  WHAT  FBEDDIE'S  MOTHEB  ALWAYS  SATS  ABOUT  ME  1 " 


TO    A    BEAUTY    PHOTOGRAPHER. 

(By  a  celebrity  in  time  of  crisis.) 


Lo,  as  a  lover  steals  with  faltering  feet, 

On  Valentine  his  morning,  to  the  doors 
Of  his  coy  mistress,  so  to  this  your  seat, 
Artist,  I  come,  and  with  all  force  entreat, 
"  Take  me,  for  I  am  yours." 

Yet,  ere  you  lead  mo  to  the  torture  chair, 

Hear  first  my  charge :  '  Tis  generally  borno 
That  only  Beauty  gains  your  favouring  care, 
That  you  restrict  your  labours  to  the  fair ; 
Others  you  treat  with  scorn. 

Well,  I  lack  loveliness  (and  so  do  you) ; 

It  is  for  that  that  I  demand  your  skill. 
Art  should  create  ;  where  Nature's  charms  are  few, 
It  is  for  Art  to  show  what  She  can  do. 
What — are  you  stubborn  still  ? 

Then  further.     In  your  ear  let  mo  confess 

That  I  am  famous ;  I  have  written  books ; 
There  is  an  editor  who  asks,  no  less, 
To  put  me  in  our  Illustrated  Press, 

That  men  may  know  my  looks. 

It  is  a  crisis,  gravely  tho'  I  shrink 

From  the  publicity  that  must  bo  faced  ; 
And  really,  if  the  people  have  to  drink 
My  features  in,  it  would  bo  well,  I  think. 
To  give  them  something  chaste. 


Therefore  I  beg  you,  by  your  sacred  Art, 

To  tone  me  up  and  do  tho  thing  in  stylo; 
There  may  ho  money  in  it  quite  apart 
From  the  advertisement.     Ila  I  ha !  you  start. 
Ileav'u  bless  you  for  that  smile ! 

Come,  then,  to  work,  and,  as  tho  need  is  groat, 
So  bo  your  triumph.    This  shall  bo  my  pose; 
Yours  be  the  rest.     'Tis  yours  to  palliate, 
To  make  the  rugged  smooth,  the  crooked  straight, 
Especially  my  nose. 

Now  I  am  settled.     Stately  as  a  swan, 

Thoughtful  but  not  austere.     Woa,  Artist,  woa  1 
I  have  a  giggling  humour  coming  on. 
You  looked  so  funny.     It  will  pass  anon. 
Now.    Are  you  ready?    Go  I 


The  Graceful  Touch.. 

"Mr.  Collins  Bailey,  of  Portsmouth,  delivered  a  short  address  on 
Home  Eulc,  and  the  remainder  o£  tho  evening  was  pleasantly  spent." 

1'artsmoutk  Evening  Newt. 


We  regret  to  state  that  tho  rumour  that  tho  Master  of 
ELIBANK  is  about  to  follow  the  example  of  the  MACLAINE  of 
Lochbuio  and  go  on  tho  variety  stage,  with  tho  idea  of 
interpreting  the  emotions  of  his  old  colleagues  in  the  Scots 
Cabinet,  is  officially  denied. 


298 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Aram  16,  1913. 


ONCE  UPON  A  TIME. 
THE  KKSOLUTE  SPIRIT. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  in  the 
Suffolk  village  of  South  Highbolt  a 
Tudor  gi  ungo.  It  was  richly  timbered, 
with  vine  leaves  carved  on  its  barge- 
boards,  and  it  had  a  great  hall  with 
a  roof-tree  springing  from  a  cross-beam 
of  massive  stoutness,  and  a  very  beauti- 
ful pilastered  gallery,  and  altogether  it 
\v:is  such  a  house  as,  although  damp 
and  insanitary,  sends  romantic  travellers 
into  ecstasies.  But  it  had  come  upon 
evil  days,  and  having  been  bought 
cheaply  by  a  speculative  London 
builder  had  been  sold  by  him  at  an 
enormous  profit  to  an  American  pluto- 
crat, and — a  minute  plan  of  all  having 
been  prepared — was  now  being  taken 
down  with  great  care,  every  brick,  stone 
and  beam  numbered,  to  bo 
re-erected  in  the  American 
millionaire's  estate  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson  as  a 
garden  hostel  for  his  guests 
and  a  perpetual  reminder  of 
a  country  older  and  more 
beautiful  than  his  own. 

Now  it  happened  that, 
like  most  Tudor  granges, 
this  one  was  haunted.  Ever 
since  the  year  1592,  when 
a  wealthy  heir  apparent, 
named  Geoffrey,  bad  been 
poisoned  with  a  dish  of  toad- 
stools by  his  spendthrift 
younger  brother,  more  than 
anxious  to  upset  the  ex- 
asperating financial  pro- 
visions of  primogeniture, 
and  their  sister  Alice  had 


"  marry  wo  must  go  with  it,  no  matter 
where." 

"Nay,  sister,"  said  Geoffrey,  "that 
were  foolish.  We  are  Suffolk  ghosts — 
mora  than  Suffolk,  South  Highbolt 
ghosts — and  here  we  ought  to  stay. 
Suppose  it  is  going  to  London — how 
then  ?  You  are  far  too  simple  and 
countrified  for  the  great  city.  The 
others  will  laugh  at  you." 

"  Let  them,"  said  Alice,  "  I  care  not." 

"  Wait  till  you  hear  them,"  said 
Geoffrey,  "  all  sensitive  as  you  are ! 
Anyway,  here  I  mean  to  stay." 

"  But  how  foolish !  "  said  Alice ; 
for  surely,  Geoffrey,  you  would  not 
haunt  nothing?  What  use  could  that 
be  ?  How  can  you  make  nothing  creak  ? 
or  blow  out  candles  when  there  are 
none  ?  or  moan  along  passages  that  do 
not  exist  ?  or  wring  your  hands  in 


Extract  from  a  letter  to  an  editor. 

OF  YOUB  COLUMNS." 


1  I  THANK  YOU  FOB  THE  HOSPITALITY 


unconsciously  partaken  of  the  same 
dish,  Alice  and  Geoffrey,  as  well  as 
could  be  managed  in  their  disembodied 
state,  had  devoted  themselves  to  the 
old  home  and  the  discomfort  of  its  vari- 
ous successive  inhabitants;  and  their 
dismay  was  intense  on  seeing  its  com- 
ponent parts  gradually  being  packed 
into  a  series  of  trucks,  to  be  drawn  to 
some  distant  spot  by  a  traction-engine. 
To  demolition  pure  and  simple  they 
were  accustomed.  Many  were  the 
neighbouring  mansions,  most  of  them 
also  haunted,  which  they  had  seen 
pulled  down,  and  not  a  few  rebuilt ;  but 
it  was  a  new  experience  to  observe  a 
house  bodily  removed  they  knew  not 
whither,  nor  could  they  discover.  In 
vain  were  other  ghosts  consulted; 
none  knew,  not  even  the  youngest. 
The  point  then  was,  what  was  to  be 
done?  for  Geoffrey  and  Alice  were 
divided  in  opinion  as  to  their  duty,  Alice 
considering  that  her  first  allegiance  was 
to  the  structure,  and  Geoffrey  that  his 
was  to  the  site. 


South  Highbolt  at  casements  that  are 
elsewhere  ?  " 

"  True,"  replied  Geoffrey,  "  but  I  can 
carry  on  the  mechanism  of  haunting 
just  the  same.  I  can  gibber  where 
the  old  home  used  to  stand,  as  many 
another  honest  Suffolk  ghost,  ay,  and 
Essex  and  Norfolk  ghosts  too,  I  wis, 
are  doing  at  this  moment.  I  belong  to 
the  village  and  shall  stay  here.  I  hate 
travel.  No  doubt  to  create  anything 
like  the  sensation  to  which  I  have  been 
accustomed  will  be  difficult,  but  I  can 
do  my  best.  Even  the  poorest  efforts, 
however,  will  be  better  than  accom- 
panying a  traction  -  engine  along  a 
public  road  in  broad  day — verily  a  de- 
grading occupation  for  the  unlaid  spirit 
of  a  fair  lady." 

"Circumstances  alter  cases,"  Alice 
replied.  "  I  conceive  my  duty  to  be  to 
yonder  wood  and  stone.  Nothing  shall 
shakt  it.e.  Wherever  they  go,  there  go 
I  also." 


'  And  I  too,"   said   Geoffrey,   "  am 

rl,°  adamant.    South  Highbolt  is  my  homo 

.t  is  our  famdy  home,"  said  Alice ;   and  never  will  I  leave  it." 


It  therefore  happened  that  when  the 
time  caino  for  the  road-train  to  leave 
every  vestige  of  the  house  being  packe> 
away,  Alice  took  a  tearful  farewell  o 
her  brother  and  crept  dismally  into  th 
last  truck  with  a  bibulous  brakesman 
and  either  such  was  her  melancholy  ai 
leaving  home  or  such  the  completeness 
of  his  potations  that  she  caused  him 
not  a  single  tremor  all  the  way  to 
Harwich,  where  a  vessel  was  waiting 
to  convoy  the  grange  to  America.  Ii 
was  when  Alice  realised  this  and  took 
up  her  abode  in  the  stufty  hold  as  near 
to  the  roof-tree  as  she  could  nestle  thai 
her  courage  first  began  to  fail,  for  she 
was  a  bad  sailor ;  but  once  again  duty 
triumphed.  .  .  . 

It  was  on  the  first  night  on  which 
the  re-erected  Tudor  grange  was  openec 
as  a  hostel  for  the  millionaire's  guests 
~^_aai.a_r. —  *}nat  Alice  was  placed  in  the 
delectable  position  of  realis- 
ing that  the  consciousness 
of  having  been  virtuous  is 
not  always  the  only  reward 
of  a  virtuous  deed ;  for  she 
had  hardly  waved  her  arms 
more  than  thrice,  or  uttered 
more  than  three  of  those 
blood-curdling  shrieks 
which  dated  from  the  mo- 
ment when  her  suspicions 
that  the  fungus  that  she  had 
just  swallowed  so  greedily 
was  not  a  mushroom  but 
a  toadstool  assumed  an 
air  of  fact,  when  Professor 
Uriah  K.  Bleeter,  one  of 
the  most  determined  foes 
of  the  American  Society  of 
Psychical  Eesearch  and  all 
its  works,  sprang  through  his  bedroom 
window  to  the  ground  below,  taking 
with  him  the  sash  and  some  dozens  of 
diamond  panes. 

And  now  the  Tudor  grange,  even 
emptier  than  it  had  been  for  so  long  in 
England  (since  America  is  a  greater 
country),  is  once  more  for  sale,  pre- 
ferably to  a  Suffolk  landowner ;  and  the 
millionaire  who  bought  it  lives  entirely 
on  his  yacht. 


From  a  police-court  case  headed 
"  Furious  Driving "  in  The  Cramer 
Post  :— 

"Police-constable  Woodcock  said  ho  saw 
defendant  drive  tho  horse  over  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  of  road  in  twenty  minutes.  When 
he  stopped  defendant  the  horse  was  trembling." 
A  chill,  no  doubt. 


"It  is  a  fact  not  generally  known  that 
sailors  who  are  off  tho  southern  coast  of  South 
America,  and  are  in  want  of  water,  make  for 
the  mouth  of  tho  Amazon,  where  they  can 
procure  fresh  water  200  miles  from  tho  coast." 

Rexall  News. 

It  seerns  a  long  way  to  go  for  a  drink. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


Host.  "EIow  DO  Ton  LIKE  THE  COUBSE?" 

Visitor.  "  WELL,  I  DON'T  WISH  TO  APPEAB  usonATEFCi,,  BUT  I  SHOULD  LIKE  TO  i.in  cows ! " 


ORIGINS. 

THE   Select    Committee    on    Motor 

Traffic   dangers,  whatever  the  results 

of  its   investigations   may  be,  has  at 

least  made  a  splendid   start.     Ib   has 

already   earned    the    gratitude    of    all 

antiquarians  by  the  flood  of  valuable 

light  which  it  bas-thrown  on  the  vexed 

(|uesiion  of  tho  origin  of  the  Rule  of 

!  the  Road.     One  of  tho  witnesses  has 

pointed  out  that  the   rule   camo  into 

.  be-in™    "  about    the    time    when    men 

d  swords,    so    that    they    could 

i  seize  their   weapons   with    their    free 

hand  and  turn  round  and  defend  them- 

68  against  attacks  from  behind." 
Wo  may  now  confidently  look  to  the 
Select  Committee,  in  tho  course  of  the 
sittings  that  are  yet  to  come,  to  en- 
:  lighten   us  upon  tho  origin  of  other 
'  curious  customs — equally  closely  con- 
i  nccted  with  tho  dangers  of  motor  traffic 
— which    have  grown   up   almost  im- 
perceptibly among  us. 

Does   the  custom,   for  instance,   of 

walking  on  the  outside  of  the  pave- 

|  mcnt  when  in  tho  company  of  a  lady 

i  date — as  wa  have  always  supposed— 

I  from  about  tho  time  when  ladies  took 

: ntcrest  in  shop  windows? 

Is  it  true — as  wo  have  good  reason  to 

believe — that   tho  custom   of  shaking 

K.mds  when  acquaintances  meet  dates 

i  from  about  tho  time  when  men  con- 


sidered it  prudent  to  keep  the  other 
fellow's  right  hand  out  of  mischief  until 
they  saw  how  he  was  going  to  take  it  ? 

Are  wo  right  in  supposing  that  tho 
custom  of  knocking  at  a  door  before 
entering — obviously  an  old  survival — 
dates  back  to  about  the  time  when  most 
private  residences  wore  protected  by  a 
portcullis,  on  which  you  had  to  knock 
pretty  hard  if  you  wanted  to  make  your 
way  in  ? 

These  are  moot  points,  some  of  them 
perhaps  more  moot  than  others;  but 
there  is  no  doubt  at  all  in  our  mind 
that  the  custom  of  dressing  for  dinner 
dates  back  to  about  tho  time  when  the 
Court  of  OH  ARMS  II.  encouraged  luxury, 
and  no  one  dreamt  of  getting  out  of  bed 
before  that  hour  of  tho  day;  and  it 
is  interesting  to  note  that  the  custom  of 
using  umbrellas  dates  back  to  about  the 
time  when  they  were  first  introduced. 

We  hope  that  if  witnesses  before  tho 
Select  Committee  have  any  more  solu- 
tions to  offer  they  will  at  least  be  free 
from  ill-natured  criticism.  Ib  has 
already  been  pointed  out  that  tho  Rule 
of  the  Road  on  the  Continent  is  the 
reverse  of  what  it  is  in  this  country; 
but  that  circumstance  is  duo,  wo  under- 
stand, not  so  much  to  the  fact  that 
swrards  were  never  carried  in  France 
j  or  Germany,  as  to  tho  fact  that  all 
I  foreigners  in  the  Middle  Ages  were 
!  notoriously  left-handed. 


FLIGHTS  OF  FANCY. 

["We   sh.ill    all    ba  flying    soon." — 1/ia 
Trehawke  J)arics.] 

ALTHOUGH  my  flying  days  are  o'er, 
And  I,  now  verging  on  threo-scoro, 
Do  not  intend  to  quit  tho  floor, 

I  greet  with  feelings  of  elation 
The  prospect  that  awaits  tho  nation 
Of  univeis.il  aviation. 

***** 
I  'd  simply  lovo  to  see  UALI.  CAME 
Careering  in  an  aeroplane 
Athwart  the  limitless  inane ; 

Or  watch  Sir  HERBERT  ]II:I:I:BOIIII 

TREE 

Soar  to  tho  zenith  like  a  beo, 
With  Mr.  HANDEL  BOOTH,  "M.P. ; 

Or  mark,  upon  some  night  in  Juno, 
Great  GARVIN,  in  a  gas  balloon, 
Shoot  madly  upward  to  tho  moon; 

Or  gaze  with  rapture  on  LE  QUEUX 
As  in  his  hydroplane  he  flew 
To  Vladivostok  or  Peru ; 

Or  speed  tho  parting  of  "  TAT  PAT  ". 
As  gallantly  ho  winged  his  way 
To  Stellenbosch  or  Baffin's  Bay. 
***** 
Oh,  won't  it  be  a  priceless  boon — 
Far  finer  than  a'rag-timo  tune — 
To  see  those  worthies  flying  soon  / 


SCO 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARI. 


[APRIL  16,  1913. 


WILLIAM'S   SECRET. 
[.•l  siuth/  in  ihemethodtofMr.Wn&zjJi 

1.1:  (,>frrx,  irhost  new   book,  "Mys- 
teries" (WARD,  LOCK  &  Co.),  leaves 

us  col<l.~\ 

THE  mystery  of  tho  astounding  events 
which  startled  all  Europe  a  few  years 
ago  lias  never  been  elucidated,  therefore 
now  for  the  first  time  I  will  relate  the 
facts  which  will  astonish  many. 

It  was  a  beautiful  evening  in  Sept- 
ember, and  London  was,  as  is  usual  at 
such  times,  empty.  I  had  received  my 
customary  invitations  from  tho  Nobility 
to  shoot  over  their  preserves,  but  I  had 
decided  to  remain  in  the  -Mecca  of  all 
Englishmen,  London,  in  the  hope  that 
some  astounding  adventure  might  hap- 
pen to  me.  Therefore  it  was  that  I  was 
seated  alone  with  my  revolver  in  the 
smoking-room  of  the  Devonshire  Club 
on  a -beautiful  evening  in  September. 

Suddenly  the  door  opened  and  my 
old,  friend  Baron  Banana  came  in.  I 
had  frequently  dined  with  him  on  his 
yacht  at  Monte  Carlo,  therefore  I  knew 
him  well. 

"  Good  evening,  Caro  Barone,"  I  said 
with  a  gay  smile,  for  he  and  I  had 
always  been  great  companions  and  had 
sometimes  lent  each  other  money. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  putting  his 
hand  on  my  shoulder  and1  twirling  his 
moustache  despairingly,  "  I  want  you 
to  do  something  for  the  Czar  of  Russia." 
At  these  wordj  his  face  went  the  colour 
of  ashes. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  asked  hoarsely. 

In  an  instant  three  low-looking  de- 
termined men  in  dark  tweed  overcoats 
burst  into  the  room,  each  with  a  loaded 
revolver  covering  us. 

"  The  papers,"  muttered  the  first  of 
them  thickly,  levelling  his  revolver 
unhesitatingly  at  Baron  Banana's  neck, 
"  give  me  the  papers ! " 

Without  a  word  I  handed  him  Tte 
Times,  The  Daily  Telegraph,  The  West- 
minster Gazette,  The  Morning  Post  and 
The  Daily  .Chronicle. 

The  ruffian,  who  had  a  big  black 
beard  and  elastic-sided  boots,  blanched 
visibly,  and  turning  again  to  my  friend 
Baron  Banana  angrily  pressed  his 
revolver,  which  was  loaded  to  the  hilt, 
against  the  Baron's  elbow. 

"  Give  me  the  secret  papers,"  he  said 
in  a  hoarse  whisper  to  my  friend. 

"  They  were  stolen  from  me  yester- 
day," said  my  friend  Baron  Banana, 
with  whom  I  had  often  dined  on  his 
yacht  at  Monte  Carlo. 

The  ruffian  went  as  pale  as  ashes. 
Without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  dis- 
charged   his    deadly    weapon    at    the 
ceiling.    Immediately  I  fainted. 
*          *          *          * 

When  I  recovered  consciousness  two 


years  later,  I  found  myself  to  my 
amazement  lying  in  a  sumptuously- 
furnished  cabin.  Therefore  1  went  on 
deck  and  found  that  I  was  on  a  mag- 
nificent steam-yacht  off  the  coast  of 
Algeria. 

Suddenly  the  most  beautiful  girl  I 
have  ever  scon  appeared  on  deck  and 
glided  towards  mo.  In  less  than  a 
month  we  were  the  greatest  friends. 

"  I  adoro  you,"  I  declared  passion- 
ately one  evening,  taking  out  my 
revolver  and  raising  her  hand  to  my 
lips. 

"  Hush,"  sho  murmured  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

Two  weeks  passed,  and  I  was  stand- 
ing on  deck  one  morning  when  she 
came  suddenly  towards  me,  her  beauti- 
ful face  the  colour  of  ashes. 

"  What  is  it?  "  I  asked  hoarsely. 

She  handed  me  a  packet  of  papers. 

"  Take  these,"  she  said,  "  and  give 
them  to  Popoff,  the  Chief  of  the 
Police  in  Warsaw,"  mentioning  the 
name  of  the  most  dreaded  detective  in 
Eussia,  Paul  Popoff.  "It  is  a  matter 
of  life  and  death." 

"  Whoso  ?  "  I  asked  anxiously. 

"  Yours,"  replied  the  beautiful  girl, 
whose  name  I  found  out  afterwards  was 
Maritza. 

Immediately  I  swooned. 

***** 

I  must  have  been  unconscious  for  six 
months.  When  I  came  round  I  found 
myself  to  my  astonishment  in  the  deep- 
est dungeon  of  the  dreaded  Schiisselburg, 
from  which  no  prisoner  ever  returns 
alivo.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  my 
last  moment  had  arrived,  and  drawing 
my  revolver  decided  to  sell  my  life 
dearly. 

Suddenly  the  door  of  my  cell  was 
opened,  and  my  old  friend  Baron  Banana, 
•with  whom  I  used  frequently  to  lunch 
on  his  yacht  at  Monte  Carlo,  was  kicked 

by  one  of  the  guards. 

"  How  are  you,  my  dear  old  chap  ?  " 
I  said,  for  his  face  was  as  pale  as  ashes. 

"  The  papers  ?  "  he  said  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

We  drew  out  our  revolvers,  for  we 
were  resolved  to  sell  our  lives  dearly,  if 
the  guards  interrupted  us  at  this 
moment. 

"I  am  Paul  Popoff,"  my  friend  Baron 
Banana  went  on,  mentioning  the  name 
of  the  most  dreaded  detective  in  Eussia. 

Immediately  I  drew  out  the  packet, 
which  Maritza  had  given  me,  from  the 
lining  of  my  waistcoat. 

Without  a  word  the  Baron  opened 
the  packet  with  the  greatest  eagerness. 
Suddenly  he  gave  a  cry.  The  packet 
contained,  not  the  letters  he  had  hoped 
for,  but  a  deadly  bomb  ! 

Both  our  faces  went  the  colour  of 
ashes. 


Then  there  was  a  loud  explosion — 
and  I  knew  no  more. 

***** 

When  I  recovered  consciousness  I 
found  myself,  to  my  intense  surprise, 
in  the  Barnes  mortuary.  As  may  be 
supposed,  I  desired  to  remain  in  that 
place  not  an  instant  longer  than  was 
necessary,  therefore  I  escaped  by  the 
window.  Having  a  few  shillings  still 
left  in  my  pocket,  I  took  a  taxi  to  Scot- 
land Yard  in  order  to  clear  up  the 
mystery  of  my  friend  Baron  Banana 
and  tho  beautiful  Maritza,  whom  I  still 
loved  with  all  the  intensity  of  my  soul. 

At  Scotland  Yard  I  waited  for  three 
weeks,  when  suddenly  the  door  opened 
and  there  entered  a  man  whose  presence 
there  rendered  me  speechless. 

It  was  Paul  Popoff,  the  most  dreaded 
detective  in  Eussia. 

He  noted  my  amazement,  and,  laugh- 
ing as  he  advanced  towards  me,  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Now  that  we  meet  here,  allow  me 
to  introduce  myself  under  my  real 
name.  I  am  the  German  Emperor." 

At  these  words  my  face  went  the 
colour  of  ashes. 

"Then  who  is  Baron  Banana?"  I 
asked  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

In  an  instant  he  drew  his  revolver 
and  handed  me  a  packet  of  papers. 

Immediately  I  swooned. 

*  *  *  *  * 

One  word  more.  Not  many  weeks 
ago,  while  walking  along  the  Strand,  I 
noticed  a  short  bearded  man  coining 
out  of  a  Cinema  Palace.  At  the  same 
moment  our  eyes  met.  Instantly  his 
face  went  the  colour  of  ashes  and  he 
jumped  into  a  taxi. 

It  was  the  Czar  of  Eussia ! 

• A.  A.  M. 

From  a  picture-framer's  circular : — 
"GENUINE  OIL  PAINTINGS. 

I  have  in  my  employ  some  of  the  best  and 
cleverest  artists  and  can  guarantee  you  first- 
class  work  at  the  following  reasonable  prices, 
including  Landscapes,  Waterfalls,  Mountain 
Scenery,  Fruit  and  Flowers,  etc.  10  x  8 
I/-  each,  12  x  10  1/9  each,  18  x  10  2/6  each." 

We  have  laid  out  3/6  on  a  "  Bunch  of 
Grapes  rising  over  Ben  Nevis"  (10x8) 
and  a  "  Cauliflower  coming  down  at 
Lodore"  (18x10). 


"  Some  heat  seems  to  have  been  engendered 
through  the  action  taken  by  tho  Somerset 
Archaeological  Society  respecting  the  installa- 
tion of  an  improved  heating  apparatus." 

Estates  Gazette. 

Evidently  the  apparatus  is  a  success. 


"Young  Man  (reliable)  Wanted,  who  can 
kill  and  make  himself  useful;  live  out."- 
Adut.  in  "  Tlie  Devon  and  Exeter  Gazette." 

We  certainly  recommend  this  last 
arrangement  in  case  the  police  should 
call. 


Amir,  1C,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


301 


Priest.  "Now,  PAT,  YE 'BE  VEHY  BEHINDHAND  WITH  YOUB  GABDEH.    THERE'S  NOTHING  SHOWING." 

Pat.  "SHCBE,  FATHER,  THE  SLUGS  AND  SUCH  BASTES  WEBB  so  IHEOUBLESOME  LAST  YEAB  THAT  I  THOUGHT  I'D  PUT  THB 

SPOITB  ON  THIM   AND  NOT  GBOW   ANNYTHING   AT  ALL,   AT  ALL." 


SOMEWHERE   NEAR   BLENHEIM. 

(A  typical  Oxfordshire  scene  at  the 
present  moment,  with  sincere  apologies 
to  EGBERT  SOUTHEY  and  all  pedantic 
students  of  rural  dialects.) 

IT  was  an  April  evening  ; 

Old  William,  fairly  ripe, 
Was  walking  homewards  from  the  pub 

Puffing  a  dark  clay  pipe : 
Ho  took  to  help  him  o'er  the  green 
His  little  grandchild  Emmeline. 

She  saw  her  brother,  Henry  John, 
Wave  something  in  his  hand, 

A  leaflet  issued  by  The  Mail 
He  could  not  understand ; 

He  looked  for  someone  to  expound 

The  words  so  large  and  smooth    and 
round. 

The  old  man  took  it  from  the  boy, 

He  leaned  against  a  stile, 
He  scratched  a  ruminative  head 

And  smiled  a  maudlin  smile  ; 
"  That  is  a  tracb,"  said  he,  "  that  be, 
A I  >out  tho  vamous  policy." 

I  seed  one  at  the  "  Spotted  Pig ;  " 

John  Brown  he  read  un  out ; 
They  'ro  going  to  plough  the  big  Park  up, 

And  that's  what  it's  about; 


There 's  several  thousand  words,"  said 

he, 
"  Explaining  that  there  policy." 

"  But  tell  us  what  it 's  all  about," 

Was  Henry  John's  remark, 
And  little  Emmeline  said,  "  Lor! 

Why  should  they  plough  the  Park  ? 
And  is  it  true,  or  just  a  tale 
Invented,  granfer,  by  The  Mail  ?  " 

"It  was  the  CHEAT  DUKE,"  William 
said, 

"  Who  laid  the  FIRST  LORD  flat ; 
But  what  they  fought  each  other  for 

I  hain't  so  sure  of  that ; 
But  everybody  knows,"  said  he, 
"  It  wor  a  vamous  policy." 

"  Tho  GREAT  DUKE  lives  by  Woodstock 

town, 

The  FIRST  LORD  rules  the  sea, 
The  DUKE  's  a  great  Conservative, 

His  cousin — what  are  he  ? 
There 's  some  as  says — but  there,  my 

head 
Ain't  what  it  was,"  the  old  man  said. 

"  Howmbesoever,  in  Tho  Mail, 
The  GREAT  DUKE  took  and  wrote 

As  summat  's  wrong  with  English  land  ; 
This  here  's  un's  antidote. 


'  I  '11  plough  the  Park,'   says  he,  '  for 

wheat.' 
'  You   will  ? '    says   WINSTON.      '  Well, 

I  'm  beat.' " 

"But  what,"  slid  Henry   John,   "do 

things 

Like  rural  problems  mean  ?  " 
"  And  does  the  GREAT  DUKE  love  Tlie 

Mail  ?  " 

Quoth  little  Emmeline. 
"  Ah  !  that  I  cannot  tell,"  said  he, 
"  But  'twor  a  vamous  policy." 

EVOE. 

The  Age  of  Luxury. 
"Bedroom  (small)  and  Sitting  Room   Re- 
quired  by  young  gentlemen  ;   bathroom  and 
accommodation  for  small  dog. ' ' 

Newcastle  Evening  Chronicle. 

The  small  dog  seems  to  be  the  more 
particular  of  the  two. 


From  The  Weekly  Times'  report  of 
Mr.  FORBES  EOBERTSON'S  speech  at  tho 
O.P.  Club  banquet  :— 

"  lie  added  that  his  farewell  to  London  did 
not  include  Miss  Gertrude  Klliott." 
Mr.  Punch  is  not  at  all  surprised,  and 
wishes  them  many  more  happy  years 
together. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARL^ 


16,  1913. 


"WHIT  KISD  O'   DANCE  IS  THIS  TUBBKEY  TlSOT', 

"  WBEI,,  IT'S  LIKE  THJS,  KOO.    YE  TAK'  TEB  rAir.TXEii,  TE  PUSH  HER  FOHRIT,  YE  rnix 
men  BACK,  AN'  YK  TIRHL  HEB  KOUN'  WHILES."  »;  •  •  • 


the  well-known  artist,  created  quite  a 
sensation  in  Bond  Street  last  week  by 
appearing  in  the  smartest  o£  tailor- 
made  costumes  of  hand-painted  canvas. 
Everyone  was  admiring  the  delightful 
je-ne-sais-quoi  blend  of  colouring;  but 
only  now  am  I  able  to  publish  the  fact 
that  this  was  really  due  to  the  material 
employed  being  the  Academy  rejecteds 
of  the  lady's  husband.  Messrs.  Egalit6 
were  of  course  responsible  for  this 
triumph  ;  and  I  am  told  further  that, 
in  order  to  keep  abreast  of  the  latest 
movement  in  fashion,  they  have  opened 
a  branch  establishment  in  the  King's 
Boad,  where  customers  desirous  of 
obtaining  the  real  Chelsea  cachet  can 
have  their  own  materials  made  up 
within  a  stone's-throw  of  the  studios 
supplying  them. 

Next  week  I  must  write  to  you  about 
the  new  designs  in  oil-painted  coats  for 
wet  weather.  Yours, 

LOUISE. 


I'D  HAVE  A    DAIRY. 

I  *D  have  a  dairy — 
Stool,  churn  and  dish, 

An  if  a  fairy 

Gave  me  a  wish  ; 

'.('Vagrant  and  airy, 
Long,  clean  and  cool, 

I  'd  have  a  dairy- 
Dish,  churn  and  stool ! 

Three  maids  are  plenty — 

May,  Moll  and  Meg ; 
If  I  paid  twenty 

I  'd  have  to  beg ; 
Thrifty  and  tenty, 

Up  "with  the  day, 
Three  maids  are  plenty — 

Meg,  Moll  and  May ! 


FASHION  NOTES. 
(According  to  the  T'res*,  Landscape  Frocks 
"painted    to    resemble    well-known    master- 
pieces "  arc  to  be  the  newest  fashionable  sen- 
sation.] 

DEAREST  MIF.T.Y, — You  will  of  course 
expect  me  to  tell  you  all  about  the  latest 
modes.  Well,  to  begin  with,  Goose 
and  Edwin  are  showing  some  really 
charming  Turners  for  evening  wear. 
This  firm's  "Fighting  Temeraire,"  in 
old  gold  net  over  blue  chiffon  with  a 
dash  of  ross,  would  look  exceedingly 
well  on  anyone  who  was  not  afraid  of  a 
little  colour.  There  are.also  some  quite 
loo  delicious  Whistlers  (including  an 
"  Old  Battersea  Bridge  "  that  would  be 
the  very  thing  for  half-mounting),  the 
soft  shades  of  which  make  them 
especially  suitable  to  very  young 
blondes. 

I  was  immensely  taken,  too,  with  a 


wonderful  Napier  Hemy,  in  dark  navy 
merino,  the  skirt  made  billowy,  with  a 
bodice  of  tulle  clouds,  which  lias  been 
ordered  for  a  smart  yachtswoman. 
:More  fragile  is  a  "  June  in  the  Austrian 
Tyrol"  afternoon  confection,  of  green 
and  blue  velvet,  with  which  is  to  be 
worn  a  Hobbema  "Avenue"  hat  of 
brown  straw,  trimmed  with  absolutely 
straight  uprising  plumes,  like  the  trees 
in  the  famous  original., 

I  hear  that  Messrs.  Egalite,  of  Eegent 

[Street,  are  making  a  feature  of  a  special 

line  in  ready-made  Leaders ;   the  coa( 

and  skirt   of   the  popular  russet    anc 

green  being  finished  off  with  a  dainty 

.toque  in  various  sunset    shades,   the 

;•  whole  giving  the  effect  of  masses  o: 

[foliage   caught   by   the    last    rays   o 

j  evening. 

A  propos  of  this  firm,  I  should  tel 
you  that  Mrs.  Blank  Dash,  the  wife  o 


Cows  of  my  raising. 

White,  red  and  roan, 
I  'd  have  a-grazing 

In  fields  of  my  own  ; 
Milkers  amazing, 

Morning  and  night, 
Cows  of  my  raising,  _ 

Eoan,  red  and  white ! 

I  'd  give  the  fairy 

Cream,  curd  and  whey, 
Best  of  my  dairy 

Fresh  every  day ; 
These  shouldn't  vary 

'Neath  my  door  beam  ; 
I  'd  give  the  fairy 

Whey,  curd  and  cream ! 


Vie  de  Boheme. 

From  a  recent  statement  by  a  juvenile 
scholar : — - 

"  The.  old  blind  King  of  Bohemia  was  slain 
at  the  battle  of  Crccy,  and  Edward,  Prince  of 
Wales,  adopted  his  crest  and  motto,  'Hitchy 
Koo.' " 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.—  A  rim.  1C,  1913. 


p2w*^'>- >;• 


<<.-i-J-.'.xr.  •''•"•"    r 
"  ."•  -r  *3  .**/•:  .  l*\fc":« 


'•"r"".   r.'.    "J  '.:•••"•»'  '  »*,  j».->>v>^r>~.v>*-;-  • 

:-?^T^  ^.f^lP5^^  -SJg* 

y^M^^^^if 

^^^Sw^^jBj 


•.'^"^•j  *-'; '  .'•••.    *•*.",  *  -.'   "  '•  \(A.  •"' 


THE    POINT    OF    IT. 

Mn.  AsQirmi.  "  OF  COURSE  I  'M  DOING  THIS  FOR  THE  HONOUR  OF  MY  COUNTRY ; 
BUT  IF  I  SHOULD  CHANCE  TO  IMPALE  A  TORY  OR  TWO— WELL,  1  SHALL  NOT  WASTE 
TIME  IN  VAIN  REGRETS." 

[Juvolin  practice  for  tho  next  Olympian  flames  has  already  begun  in  the  Park.] 


Apiur,  1C,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


305 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

;EXTIUCTJ:D  IT.OM  THE  DIAIIY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 
House  of  Commons,  Monday,  April  1. 
— For  some  months  a  war-cloud  has 
lain  ominously  low  over  the  East  of 
Europo.  From  its  component  parts, 
rare  in  complexity,  full  charged  with ! 


Cromarty,  and  DON'T  KKIH  HAKDIB  of  ^  their  counsel,  MASON  proposed  to  move 
Merthyr  Tydvil  (and  the  Universe)  rose  adjournment.  "  In  view  of  the  enormous 


electricity,  there  would  follow 
on  explosion  a  conflict  hy  tha 
side  of  which  the  wars  of  tho 
iast  century  would  seem  to 
but  skirmishes.  Avoid- 
ance of  this  appalling  cal- 
amity is,  according  to  ad- 
mission frankly  made  in  tho 
Chancelleries  of  Europe, 
largely  due  to  tho  sagacity 
and  confidence  -  inspiring 
character  of  the  British  For- 
eign Minister.  "Without 
putting  himself  forward  with 
intent  to  assume  a  position 
of  prominence  Sir  EDWARD 
GREY'S  right  to  presidency, 
alike  at  gatherings  of  the 
Ambassadors  and  at  con- 
ferences of  representatives  of 
the  Allies,  has  been  instinct- 
ively recognised  and  gene- 
rously acknowledged. 

Rising  to-day  in  crowded 
House,  hushed  to  state  of 
anxious  expectancy,  he  made 
characteristically  frank  state- 
ment disclosing  current  situ- 
ation. At  a  moment  when, 
Turkey  beaten  to  her  knees, 
peace  seemed  assured  upon 
terms  fairly  distributing  the 
spoil  among  the  victors,  Montenegro 


up  in  succession  expressing  dislike  and 

distrust.     All  very  well  for  tho  FOREIGN 

SECRETARY    and 

Ambassadors    in 

themselves    that,    having    spent   their 

days  and  nights  in  earnest  endoavour 


the    Conference    of 
London     to     flatter 


and  very  delicate  interests  involved " 
I'KKMIEK  gravely  deprecated  discussion 
at  present  moment.  In  accordance  with 
high  traditions  that  exclude  critical 
questions  of  foreign  policy  from  Party 
polemics,  LEADER  OF  OPPOSITION,  amid 


ears 


cheers  from,  his  own  side, 
heartily  agreed.  Demand  for 
leave  to  move  adjournment 
nevertheless  pressed.  Chal- 
lenged to  show  how  far  it 
was  supported  sixteen  Mem- 
bers stood  up.  As  forty  is  the 
minimum  number  necessary 
for  such  enterprise  as  Mem- 
ber for  Coventry  was  bent 
upon,  application  refused. 

Business  done.  —  Attempt 
of  tail  of  Ministerialists  to 
wag  the  dog  in  connection 
with  crisis  in  Eastern  Europo 
baffled. 

By  majority  of  141  CHAN- 
CELLOR OP  THE  EXCHEQUER 
carried  Resolution  legalising 
usage  and  custom  followed 
by  every  Government  during 
last  sixty  years  with  respect 
to  collection  of  taxes  pending 
passage  of  a  Budget. 

Tuesday.  —  Useful  object- 
lesson  presented  inconnection 
with  Bill  abolishing  privilege 
of  Plural  Voting.  A  measure 
of  first-class  importance,  it 
might,  had  it  been  introduced 

Sir  EDWARD  GREY  (to  Radical  critics).  "I  said,  -Lend  me  your  inorainary  old-fashioned  way, 
rs.'  I  said  nothing  about  your  mouths."  ^  QCC^ied  wh?lo 

to  settle  tbis  intricate  matter  on  a  basis 


asked  for  more  and  defied  the  Powers 
whose  carefully  workod-out  scheme  of 
settlement  reserved  Scutari  for  an  auto- 
nomous Albania.  This  attitude  was 
significantly  answered  by  a  naval  de- 
monstration, in  which  two  British  ships 
took  part,  our  Admiral  finding  himself 
in  command  of  the  International  Fleet 
cruising  off  the  coast  of  Montenegro. 

The  agreement  between  the  Powers 
respecting  the  frontier  of  Albania  was, 
Sir  EDWARD  GREY  said,  reached  after 
long  and  laborious  diplomatic  effort. 
"  Arrival  at  such  agreement  was  essen- 
tial to  the  peace  of  Europe,  and  in  my 
opinion  it  was  accomplished  only  just 
in  time  to  preserve  that  peace  between 
the  Great  Powers." 

It  might  he  supposed  that  this  state- 
ment, solemnly  made  by  a  man  who 
never  indulges  in  gasconade,  would 
have  given  pause  to  the  little  clique 
below  Gangway  on  Ministerial  side 
•who  rather  fancy  themselves  as  authori- 
ties on  foreign  affairs,  whether  affecting 
China  or  Timbuctoo.  On  the  contrary, 
MVSON  of  Coventry,  BECK  of  Saffron 
Walden,  M'AcriiKitsoN  of  Ross  and 


of  equity  all  round,  they  know  some- 
thing about  their  business.  The  four 
eminent  jurists  and  statesmen  knew 
better. 

With  intent  to  let  Europe  profit  by 


THE  PLURAL  VOTER  :a  CALLED  os  TO 

BCnilENDER. 


Minister  in  charge  would  have  been 
expected  to  make  prolonged  speech. 
There  would  have  been  equally  lengthy 
discourse  from  Front  Opposition  Bench. 
Members  above  and  below  Gangway  on 
both  sides  would  have  chipped  in,  and 
so  the  night  would  have  worn  away  to 
reach  the  same  inevitable  conclusion. 

Under  Ten  Minutes'  Rule  it  was  all 
over,  including  division,  well  within  the 
half-hour.  Ten  Minutes'  Rule  so  called 
because  Standing  Order  in  question 
says  nothing  about  ten  or  other  pre- 
cise number  of  minutes.  It  simply 
directs  that  when  a  motion  to  bring  in 
a  Bill  be  made  "the  Speaker  if  he 
thinks  fit  may  permit  a  brief  explana- 
tory statement  from  the  Member  who 
moves  and  a  Member  who  opposes  the 
motion."  House  has  agreed  that  ten 
minutes  is  fairly  sufficient  time  for  such 
explanation.  Hence  the  nomenclature 
of  the  Rule  and  the  establishment  of 
general  belief  that  a  limit  of  ten  minutes 
is  definitively  ordered. 

This  afternoon  JACK  PEASE  (whoso 
case  is  to  some  extent  analogous  to  the 
Ten  Minutes'  Rule,  since  he  is  com- 
monly called  "Jack"  because  he  was 


30G 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  1C,  1913. 


christened  JOSEPH  ALBERT,  with  his  |  guilty  of  neglect  of  duty  in  tho  delivery 
eyo  on  tho  clock,  compressed  admirably  j  of  letters  by  attending  funerals  of  the 
lucid  statement  within  space  of  ten  I  members  of  his  order  during  official 
minutes.  F.  1-1.  SMITH,  overstepping  ;  hours,"  a  practice  which  certainly  must 


tho  limib  by  a  hundred  seconds  or  so, 
was  pulled  up  by  murmurs  from 
punctilious  gentry  below  Gangway  op- 
posite. 

For  practical  purposes  Ton  Minutes' 
Rule  might  with  exceedingly  few  ex- 
ceptions bo  applied  to  introduction  of 
all  Bills.  Extended  debate  on  First 
Reading  stage  is  worse  than  wasted 


involve  a  measure  of  inconvenience  in 
business  circles. 

The  INFANT  SAMUEL,  not  easily  taken 
aback,  shielded  himself  from  attack  by 
reading  official  vindication  of  JAMES 
M'SWKENEY'S  general  character.  Irish 
Members  not  to  bo  put  off  by  this. 
WILLIAM  O'BiaiiN,  with  his  instinctive 
dislike  of  secret  societies  (such  as  tho 


time.  It  is  frequently  misleading,  since  |  Land  League,  for  example),  thundered 
Members  aro  discussing  proposals  they  |  demand  for  auxiliary  postman's  head 
have  not  yet  had  advantage  of  con- 1  on  a  charger  delivered  by  earliest  post. 


aider! ng  after  studying  in  print  their 
precise  terms.  Second  Reading  stage 
presents  full  opportunity  for  such  de- 
bate. 

When  ifc  comes  we  shall  probably 
hear  something  about  F.  E.  SMITH'S 
objection  to  the  Bill  that  "it 
loads  tho  dice  against  the  Oppo- 
sition as  a  party."  As  SAEK 
points  out,  if  the  imagery  be 
accepted  it  follows  that  through 
all  these  years  during  which 
the  principle  of  Plural  Voting 
has  been  operative  the  dice  have 
been  loaded  against  Liberal  can- 
didates at  elections. 

Business  dont. — Bill  for  Abo- 
lition of  Plural  Voting  read  a 
first  time  by  303  against  177, 
Ministerial  majority  running  up 
to  126. 

Friday. — Questions  addressed 
to  Ministers,  more  especially 
those  put  by  Irish  Members, 
oicasionally  throw  vivid  flash  of 
light  upon  social  life  in  remote 
country  districts.  In  form  of  series  of 
questions  addressed  to  POSTMASTER- 
GEKEBAL,  SHEEHAN  told  stirring  story 
of  exploits  of  auxiliary  postman  JAMES 
M'SwEENEY,  of  Carriginimma,  County 
Cork.  It  reads  like  a  chapter  from 
LOVEU'S  Handy  Andy.  According  to 
SHEEHAN,  in  addition  to  common- 
place duties  pertaining  to  post  office, 
Mr.  M'SwEENEY  takes  active  part  in 
public  life  of  Carriginimma.  Ho  is 
the  local  parish  secretary  of  a  SDcrot 
sectarian  and  political  order  known  as 
the  Board  of  Erin,  A.O.H. 

\Vhether  these  letters  are  initials 
familiar  to  the  initiated  or  merely  an 
exclamation  was  not  disclosed. 

Meetings  of  this  secret  society  have, 
ifc  is  asserted,  been  held  in  the  local 
post  office,  whose  affairs  aro  adminis- 
tered by  Miss  M'SWEENRY.  Having 
a  day  off  (it  was  Sunday,  March  23j 
this  terrible  though  auxiliary  post- 
man "  organised  a  political  invasion 
from  Macroom  and  Ballyvoumey  upon 
the  Carriginimma  Catholic  Church." 
Worse  still,  he  is,  ifc  appears, "frequently 


INFANT  SAMUEL  meekly  promised  he 
would  see  what  could  be  done,  and 
storm  abated. 

Uusincss  dona.  —  Colonel  SANDYS' 
National  Service  (Territorial  Forces) 
Bill  talked  out. 


MOTOR-BUS    HANDICAP. 

was   a   Saturday  afternoon  and 


Wu.  0'Br.iEN  ASKS  FOE  ELCOD. 


THE  DIAGNOSIS. 

[A  weekly  paper  alleges  that  tho  boots  one 
wears  react  on  one's  mood,  producing  frivolity, 
sombrcness,  and  so  on.] 

AH  me !  I  did  feel  queer  that  day. 

Betwixt  the  blithesome  and  the  tragic 
I  alternated  in  a  way 

Suggestive  of  some  evil  magic. 
A  tear  stood  in  my  bright  blue  eye, 

And  e'en  as  down  my  cheek  it  trickled 
My  reckless  laughter  rent  the  sky 


my  ribs    were    roughly 


As  though 
tickled. 

Long  time  I  pondered  o'er  the  thing, 

For,  truth  to  tell,  it  made  me  qualmy. 
Could  it,  I  wondered,  be  the  Spring  ? 

Was  I  in  love  or  going  balmy? 
In  vain  I  sought  the  trouble's  seat 

In  heart  and  head,  until,  despairing, 
I  cast  one  look  towards  my  feet  — 

The   shoe;   were    odd  "that    I    was 
wearin. 


"  Ol'TSiriE  THE  AltK.  Just  Out. 

Advt.  in  "  Times  Literary 


Hard  luck—  a  very  near  thing. 


THE 

IT 

Bill  and  I  were  in  soro  need  of  amus 
ment.  Hydo  Park  oratory  we  had 
found  overrated.  Our  respective  clubs 
had  seemed  to  consist  of  nothing  but 
silent  bald  heads.  So  at  Hydo  Park 
Corner  we  parted,  and  I,  in  accordance 
with  our  pre-arranged  scheme,  stepped 
on  to  a  bus  going  along  Piccadilly  to 
Liverpool  Street.  It  was  not  long 
before  1  made  the  acquaintance,  of  the 
conductor,  at  that  time  a  man  of  honest 
appearance  and  no  doubt  unblemished 
character. 

"Conductor,"  I  said,  "I  have  a  friend 
and  his  name  is  Bill." 

Tho  conductor,  though  by  now  he 
may  be  silent  and  reserved,  as  is  the 
way  with  those  who  have  regrettable 
pasts,  was  at  the  moment  inclined  to  all 
the  outspoken  candour  of  sweet 
innocence.  Ho  told  me  that  he 
had  many  friends  and  that  most 
of  them  would  answer  to  the 
name  of  Bill. 

"But  this  Bill,"  said  I  "is 
relevant."  (The  man's  jovial 
expression  sobered  down  a  little. 
I  think  he  misunderstood  me  to 
mean  that  Bill  was  a  parson.) 
"  He  is  at  this  moment  being 
carried  as  fast  as  bus  can  carry 
him  up  Park  Lane.  Arrived  at 
the  Marble  Arch,  he  will  travel 
vid  Oxford  Street  to  Liverpool 
Street.  Arrived  there,'  ho  will 
return  with  all  speed,  but  via 
Piccadilly,  to  Hyde  Park  Corner. 
I,  on  the  other  hand,  am 
scheduled  to  return  to  that  im- 
portant spot  vid  Oxford  Street  and 
Park  Lane.  .  In  other  words,  it  is  a 
circular  route  and  wo  are  travelling  it 
in  opposite  directions.  For  private 
reasons,  including  a  liquidated  sum  of 
money,  ifc  is  urgent  that  I  should  be 
back  at  Hyde  Park  Corner  first." 

Leaning  over  the  side,  ho  shouted 
a  few  cryptic  words  to  tho  man  at  the 
wheel.  Clearly  these  two  had  the 
racing  instinct  and  a  pride  in  their 
bus.  Ncc,  as  my  old  friend  VIEGIL 
used  to  say,  inora. 

****** 
The  Strand  is  slow -going  on  a 
Saturday  afternoon,  but  I  had  every 
hope  that  we  should  make  up  time 
through  the  deserted  City.  Never  did 
I  loathe  two  people  so  much  and  on  so 
short  an  acquaintance  as  I  did  tho  two 
British  matrons  who  stood  in  the 
middle  of  Fleet  Street  and  barred  our 
progress  with  waving  umbrellas.  It 
was  possible  but,  we  decided,  imprudent 
to  pass  through  them,  so  we  delayed 
our  rush  and  they  delayed  it  more. 
When,  after  an  age,  we  had  got  them 


Armr,  1G,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


307 


Dear  Old  Gentleman  (to  Jones,  who  is  removing  his  rejected  works  from  tJie  Royal  Academy).  "  CAN  YOU  TELL  ME  WHO  HAS  TAINTED 

TBE  PICTURE  THIS  YEAH?" 


on  board,  they  sat  just  in  front  of  me, 
less  by  design  than  by  reason  of  the 
suddenness  of  our  start,  and  their  sub- 
sequent conversation,  which  I  could 
not  help  hearing,  made  me  sweat  with 
dismay.  It  disclosed  an  awful  state 
of  affairs.  So  I  hastened  down-stairs 
to  interview  the  conductor  before  he 
should  interview  them. 

"  My  friend,"  I  whispered  to  him, 
"  this  bus  is  going  to  Piccadilly." 

Ho  demurred. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  it  is — eventually. 
They  will  ask  you  upstairs,  '  Is  this 
bus  going  to  Piccadilly?'  You  will 
preserve  an  impassive  face  and  say, 
'Yes.'  True,  it  is  not  going  by  the 
most  direct  route ;  but  there  are  two 
routes  from  Fleet  Street  to  Piccadilly, 
and  one  of  them  is  vid  Ludgate  Hill, 
St.  Paul's,  the  Mansion  House,  Liver- 
pool Street,  the  Mansion  House,  St. 
Paul's,  Ludgate  Hill  and  Fleet  Street 
again.  What  are  time  and  direct 
routes  and  money  to  British  matrons  ? 
Can  \ve,  having  wasted  many  moments 
getting  them  on,  bo  expected  to  waste 
more  getting  thorn  off ;  ay,  and,  for  all 
\vo  know,  getting  them  on  to  another 
bos? " 


I  took  my  seat  inside  while  the  con- 
ductor went  up-stairs  and  told  his  lie. 
****** 

I  was  back  at  the  starting  and 
winning  post,  Hyde  Park  Corner,  just 
in  time  to  see  Bill  emerge  from  a 
taxi-cab. 

"  I  attribute  my  downfall,"  said  he, 
on  being  confronted,  "  to  two  old 
women." 

I  asked  for  particulars.  Their  de- 
scriptions seemed  familiar. 

"  When  I  got  on  to  my  return  bus 
at  Liverpool  Street,"  he  continued, 
"and  saw  the  old  things  sitting  on  top, 
I  should  have  known  that  they  put  no 
value  on  their  own  time  and  would  not 
hesitate  to  waste  mine.  But  it  was 
such  a  nice-looking  bus  arid  the  genial 
conductor  wore  such  an  unscrupulous 
look." 

I  asked  for  further  particulars,  and 
this  time  the  descriptions  left  no  room 
for  doubt. 

"  At  Piccadilly,  after  two  previous 
attempts,  in  which  they  changed  their 
minds  when  they  had  stopped  the  bus, 
they  got  off." 

"  As  they  of  all  people  were  entitled 
to  do,"  I  murmured. 


"  But  not  where  everybody  else  gets 
off.  No,  they  must  have  a  stop  to 
themselves.  Worse,  they  must  keep 
us  all  waiting  while  they  had  a  long, 
long  chat  with  the  conductor." 

"  Perhaps,"  I  suggested,  "  they  had 
cause  to  remonstrate  with  him  ?  " 

"Not  they.  For  when,  being  able 
to  tolerate  the  delay  no  longer,  I  left 
the  bus,  they  were  thanking  him  in  the 
most  emphatic  and  profuse  terms  for 
their  pleasant  ride.  Indeed,"  he  added, 
as  ho  handed  over  the  amount  of  our 
bet,  "  the  last  I  saw  of  them  they  were 
tipping  the  fellow." 

I  pocketed  the  wager.  "In  my 
opinion,"  said  I,  "  it  has  been  from 
first  to  last  a  most  disreputable  affair, 
from  which  no  one,  save  the  ladies, 
emerges  without  shame. 

Bill's  only  regret,  on  being  en- 
lightened, was  the  thought  that,  if  he 
had  not  been  detected  over  the  taxi- 
cab  scandal,  he  would  probably  have 
confessed  voluntarily. 


"Tho  annual  match  between  the  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  teams  last  week  at  Hoylako 
resulted  in  a  tee." — Dublin  Evening  News. 

It  generally  ends  on  a  green. 


303 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Armr,  1C,  1913. 


NEIGHBOURS. 

IT  is  not,  generally  speaking,  amus- 
ing— even  for  a  musical  critic — to  bo 
in  heel  for  a  week  in  a  Swiss  hotel  in 
winter.  Yet  I  was  well  entertained 
by  my  friendly  intercourse  with  Mr. 
Arthur  W.  Brooks,  next  door.  His 
portmanteau  was  sent  to  my  room  by- 
mistake  on  the  evening  of  my  arrival. 
That  is  bow  I  discovered  bis  name, 
but  I  never  wittingly  beheld  his 
features.  Still  our  rooms  were  only 
separated  by  a  locked  door,  and  I  came 
to  know  a  good  deal  about  Arthur  W. 
Brooks. 

His  principal  characteristics  appear 
to  be  a  catholic  taste  in  music  and  an 
inveterate  habit  of  whistling  while  he 
is  dressing  for  dinner.  That  is  how 
we  got  on  terms  almost  of  intimacy 
with  one  another.  It  was  on  the 
Tuesday  evening  that  I  first  became 
aware  of  a  beautiful  rendering  of 
CHOPIN'S  "  Funeral  March  "  creeping 
solemnly  through  tho  key-hole.  This 
was  followed,  after  a  suitable  interval, 
by  a  brief  and  brilliant  selection  from 
Carmen.  I  felt  that  applause  in  any 
form  would  be  out  of  place,  and  yet  I 
wished  to  show  my  appreciation  in  the 
most  delicate  manner  possible.  I  am 
no  mean  whistler  myself.  I  have  even, 
in  my  day,  whistled  to  my  own  accom- 
paniment at  a  Band  of  Hope  concert. 
So  I  replied  tentatively,  unobtrusively, 
with  the  opening  bars  of  the  "  Frei- 
schutz  Overture."  I  had  not  advanced 
very  far  when  the  gong  sounded  and 
he  went  down.  I  thought  he  might 
have  waited.  On  the  Wednesday  I 
began  to  keep  a  record  in  the  form  of  a 
diary,  which  follows  : — 

Wednesday  night. — Brooks  came  up 
early,  having,  perhaps,  got  wet  through 
tobogganing.  We  plunged  at  once  into 
BEETHOVEN'S  Symphonies.  He  gave 
a  really  fine  synopsis  of  the  principal, 
themes  of  the  "  Eroica."  I  replied  with 
the  slow  movement  of  the  Fourth.  I 
thought  I  should  have  him  there,  as  it 
is  not  so  generally  known,  but  to  my 
extreme  pleasure  he  went  on  to  the 
Scherzo  with  the  utmost  promptitude. 
We  then  took  the  "C  Minor,"  dividing 
the  movements  between  us,  Brooks 
being  a  little  shaky  on  tho  last.  The 
gong  found  us  on  the  point  of  attacking 
the  "  Pastoral." 

Thursday  night.— More  BEETHOVEN. 
Brooks  is  quite  sound  on  BEETHOVEN, 
though  I  did  not  at  all  care  for  his 
reading  of  the  slow  movement  of  the 
Seventh  Symphony.  It  was  abomin- 
ably dragged.  I  must  try  to  put  him 
right  about  that. 

Friday  evening. — I  have  been  won- 
dering all  day  as  to  what  is  his  attitude 
on  STRAUSS,  and  as  soon  as  he  appeared 


I  oponcd  upon  him  with  a  selection 
from  tho  duet  from  "  Elektra."  (Pretty 
difficult,  of  course,  but  I  had  been  prac- 
tising.) I  do  not  think  he  recognised 
it  at  first.  The  silence  ssemed  a  little 
si-rained.  But  as  I  worked  up  to  my 
climax  ho  began  very  suddenly  to  knock 
things  about  all  over  the  room.  There 
was  such  a  row  of  rattling  crockery 
and  tho  violent  splashing  of  water  that 
at  last  I  found  it  impossible  to  proceed. 
An  awkward  pause  followed,  when  ho 
had  managed  to  silence  me.  I  thought 
I  would  try  him  once  more.  But 
before  the  end  of  tho  second  bar  I 
heard  the  door  bang  and  steps  in  the 
passage.  I  hope  I  have  not  offended 
him.  I  must  keep  off  STRAUSS. 

Saturday. — -Brooks  was  quite  him- 
self again  to-day.  Ho  actually  opened 
in  tho  morning,  as  he  was  dressing, 
with  a  most  spirited  rendering  of  one  of 
SCHUMANN'S  "  Novelettes."  Afterwards 
we  dipped  into  TSCHAIKOWSKI,  BERLIOZ 
and  MAcDowELL.  In  the  evening  we  had 
a  delightful  session  devoted  exclusively 
to  motives  from  "  Parsifal "  and  the 
"  Eing."  I  perceive  he  is  a  Bayreuther. 

Sunday. — A  very  awkward  thing  has 
happened,  resulting  almost  in  a  breach 
between  us.  I  find  to  my  horror  that 
Brooks  is  an  admirer  of  MENDELSSOHN. 
It  has  been  a  great  shock  to  me.  He 
began  without  any  warning  on  the  first 
movement  of  tho  "  Italian  Symphony." 
I  nearly  leapt  out  of  bed.  I  coughed, 
I  rocked  to  and  fro,  at  last  I  hammered 
on  tho  door.  But  the  persecution  went 
on.  In  every  moment  of  silence  he 
began  again.  Ho  tried  the  "  Songs 
Without  Words,"  and  I  had  to  smash 
the  wash-basin  before  breakfast  brought 
me  relief.  The  trouble  about  Brooks  is 
that  he  can't  take  a  hint. 

Monday.  • —  Brooks  is  evidently 
ashamed  of  himself.  He  has  returned 
to  BEETHOVEN,  as  being  quite  uncon- 
trovorsial  ground,  and  we  had  a  long 
wrangle  over  that  slow  movement. 
I  fear  I  failed  to  convince  him.  He 
always  listened  patiently  when  I  gave 
him  the  proper  tempo,  but  as  soon  as 
I  stopped  to  take  breath  he  replied  by 
repeating  the  passage  at  his  own  pace. 
I  cannot  but  regret  that  we  should 
have  parted  thus  at  variance. 

Tuesday. — I  suppose  ho  went;  with 
the  early  train  before  I  was  up. 
Anyhow,  after  having  been  but  of  my 
room  in  the  afternoon  1  began  this 
evening  quite  hopefully  with  a  BRAHMS 
Sonata.  I  waited  long  for  a  reply,  and 
then  suddenly  there  fell  upon  my  out- 
raged ears  a  raucous  strain  which  I 
believe  to  be  a  popular  song  of  the  day, 
entitled,  "  We  All  Go  the  Same  Way 
Home."  I  cannot  stay  on  with  Brooks's 
successor.  I  wonder  if  the  doctor 
would  let  me  travel  to-morrow  ? 


Should  these  words  ever  meet  the 
eyo  of  Brooks,  I  should  like  him  to 
know  that  I  am  quite  prepared  to 
waive  our  differences  on  STRAUSS  and 
MENDELSSOHN,  hut  ire  is  wrong  about 
the  slow  movement  of  tho  Seventh. 
He  ought  to  admit  that. 


THE    HOLE    STORY. 

"  SIT.VIA,"  I  called,  "  do  you  know 
the  story  of  the  two  holes  in  the 
ground  ?  "  Of  course,  it  is  a  very  old 
story,  but  Sylvia  is  a  new  audience. 

"  No.     Do  tell  mo,  please." 

"  Well,  well." 

Sylvia  climbed  up  on  my  kneo  and 
settled  down  comfortably.  "Now  you 
can  tell  it  me,"  she  said. 

"  But  I  'vc  told  it.  It 's,  Well,  well. 
Two  holes  in  the  ground." 

"  Yes  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  a  well  is,  Sylvia? 
It 's  a  hole." 

"  I  had  a  weeny  wony  hole  in  my 
sock  yesterday." 

"Yes,  but  this  is  a  hole  in  the  ground, 
just  about  big  enough  to  put  a  pail  in. 
And  there's  water  at  the  bottom,  and 
when  you  put  tho  pail  down  it  comes 
up  full  of  water.  You  know.  Like 
Jack  and  Jill.  That 's  a  well." 

"  Yes.  And  you're  going  to  tell  me 
a  story  about  it  ?  " 

"  It 's  about  two  holes  in  the  ground, 
and  the  story  is,  Well,  well.  You  see, 
a  well  is  a  hole  in  tho  ground,  and 
Well,  well  is  two  holes  in  the  ground. 
It 's  a  sort  of  joke." 

"Yes,"  said  Sylvia. 

"  Now  you  tell  it  to  me." 

"  Tell  you  a  story  ?  " 

"Yes,  tell  mo  a  story  about  two 
holes  in  the  ground." 

"  I  don't  think  I  know  one." 

And  there  I  had  to  leave  it. 

A  day  or  two  later  I  heard  her 
talking  to  her  brother. 

"  Do  you  know  the  story  about  the 
two  holes  in  the  gwound?  " 

"No." 

"  Well,  well,  well." 


"  Mr.  Hake  is  tlio  second  Brighton  resident 
to  attain  the  age  of  ono  hundred  and  two 
within  a  few  years." — Morning  Post. 

While  heartily  congratulating 
HAKE  we  opino  that  ho  must 
taken  longer  than  that  about  it. 


Mr. 
have 


Our  Spring  Complexions. 
A  contemporary  on  a  recent  Suffra- 
gette outbreak  :— 

"When  arrested  Brady  was  violet." 


From  a  City  menu  :— 
1 '  Boiled  Ostende  Eabbi ,  Pickled  I>ork— Is.  Od. ' ' 
So  they  meet  at  last. 


APRIL  16.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


300 


Hunt  Servant  (new  to  the  country).  "EvEB  SEEN  'ossts  ns  THEUE  BEFORE?"  Native.  "TH.vi  I  'AVB,  PLEKir  or  us." 

Hunt  Servant.  " 'Ow  DID  THEY  GET  OUT?"  Native.  "TnEY  BE  MAINLY  THUEB  YET." 


MUSICAL  NOTES. 

THE  interest  excited  by  the  appear- 
ance of  the  "  Red  Caruso "  at  the 
Alhambra  has  naturally  stimulated  the 
competitive  instinct,  and  it  is  pleasant 
to  think  that  lovers  of  coloratura  will 
be  gratified  during  the  coming  season 
by  a  number  of  interesting  debuts.  In 
(act,  as  Sir  HENRY  WOOD  wittily  re- 
marked the  other  day,  the  new  fashion 
threatens  to  put  an  entirely  different 
complexion  on  the  musical  situation. 

The  proprietors  of  the  Bolosseum 
have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  engage 
tho  famous  Albanian  singer,  Ilka 
Samlansky,  who  is  perhaps  best  known 
umler  tho  engaging  sobriquet  of  the 
:Pink  Patti,"  Mile.  Samlansky  being 
an  Albino  as  well  as  an  Albanian,  and, 
what  is  more,  the  only  Albino  who  is 
also  famous  as  a  singer.  Her  peculiar 
physique  confers  peculiar  advantages 
on  her,  as  sho  recently  admitted  in  an 
interview  with  a  representative  of  La 
Mcncstnl.  "No  one  knows  my  age, 
and  no  one  over  will.  I  looked  exactly 


as  old  as  I  am  now  when  I  was  sixteen, 
and  I  shall  look  no  older  if  I  live  to  be 
ninety."  Mile.  Sandansky's  voico  is  a 
rich  soprano  of  a  peculiarly  glutinous 
timbre,  recalling  tho  delicious  Carlsbad 
plums  of  thirty  years  ago;  and  she  is 
equally  good  in  the  rdlcs  of  Kosina  and 
Juliet.  The  great  ambition  of  her  life 
is  to  play  Brilnnhildo  at  Bayreuth,  but 
unfortunately  Madamo  WAGNEB  has  a 
strong  prejudice  against  Albinos. 


Miss  Topsy  Umslopogaas,  the  re- 
nowned Nubian  contralto,  is  known 
throughout  Central  Africa  aa  the 
"  Black  Butt,"  although  in  stature  she 
falls  short  by  several  inches  of  the 
famous  English  singer.  Her  voice 
is  a  sumptuous  and  sonorous  organ 
of  encyclopaedic  volume  and  velvety 
quality,  and  her  recitals  at  Addis-Abeba 
were  always  attended  by  the  Emperor 
MENELIK  until  his  health  failed.  The 
announcement  that  she  has  been  en- 
gaged to  appear  at  Covent  Garden  in 
the  part  of  Amncris  arouses  the  most 
lively  anticipations,  and  Sir  H.  EIDER 
HAGGARD  has  taken  a  box  for  her  cUbut. 


Miss  Umslopogaas,  we  may  add,  has 
a  charming  literary  gift  and  has  written 
a  delightful  autobiographical  poem 
which  begins : — 

"  They  call  me  the  Black  Butt, 
I  play  on  the  sackbut , 
The  cymbals,  tho  harp  and  the  drum." 


During  his  recent  tour  in  New 
Guinea  Mr.  Bamberger  captured  several 
pygmies  and  brought  one  back  with 
him  to  London.  The  diminutive  savaga 
has  developed  an  extraordinary  talent 
for  the  piano  and  will  shortly  make  his 
appearance  at  the  .ZEolian  Hall  under 
the  nom  de  guerre  of  the  "Pocket 
Paderewski."  The  P.  P.  is  of  a  beautiful 
bronze  tint  with  a  magnificent  head  of 
hair.  We  understand  that  M.  SCBIABINK, 
the  redoubtable  Russian  composer,  has 
written  a  wonderful  fantasia  for  the 
new  performer,  which  he  has  entitled 
"  Fantasia  Fuzziwuzzia,  or  Le  dernier 
Scri."  Additional  interest  is  lent  to 
the  event  by  the  fact  that  Sir  Pompey 
Boldero,  Mr.  Bamberger's  father-in-law, 
has  kindly  consented  to  turn  over  the 
pages  for  his  son-in-law's  gifted  pupil. 


310 


PUNCH,   OE  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  16,  1913. 


PONSONBY. 

OTHEB  people  walk  out  of  the  palatial 
tube  exit  at  Holland  Park  with  an  easy 
:arriago  and  a  fear-nobody  air.  But 
with  me  it  is  different.  I  glance  fur- 
tively to  left  and  right,  pull  my  hat 
down  over  my  eyes,  and  slink  hurriedly 
into  the  street  like  a  man  who  is  wanted 
by  Scotland  Yard.  This  is  not  because 
I  have  committed  any  crime,  but 
because  two  or  three  hundred  yards 
away  from  the  station  lives  Ponsonby. 
I  hate,  I  fear  Ponsonby. 

When  I  went  to  dine  with  him  a  few 
weeks  ago,  I  had  not  seen  him  since  wo 
were  at  school  together;  but  even  in 
those  days  the  madness  was  growing 
up  within  him,  so  that  I  anticipated 
the  worst.  I  remembered  that  he  used 
to  collect  photographs  of  engines.  I  did 
not  suspect,  however,  how  far  things 
had  gone  with  him  subsequently. 

He  came  out  into  the  hall  to  meet 
me,  and  almost  before  I  could  take  off 
my  overcoat,  "  Hullo  I  "  he  said,  "  how 
did  you  get  here  ?  " 

It  was  necessary  to  be  calm. 
"  Ponsonby,"  I  replied,  "  we  were 
boys  together.  Is  it  not  wonderful  to 
reflect  that  even  now,  as  we  speak, 
the  map  of  Europe,  which  in  child- 
hood's days  we  used  to  trace  illegally 
by  holding  it  up  to  the  same  window- 
pane,  is  undergoing  alteration.  Servia, 
I  remember  well,  a  delicate  mauve. 
And  Bulgaria,  Bulgaria — 

"Did  you  come  by  Tube?"  said 
Ponsonby,  interrupting  me  rather 
rudely. 

"  My  wife,"  I  said  loftily,  "  happened 
to  be  using  the  aeroplane  this  evening. 
She  is  attending  a  Women's  Suffrage 
meeting." 

"  The  Tube !  "  shrieked  Ponsonby 
madly,  "  the  Tube  1  Just  fancy,  he 
came  by  Tube  1  Come  and  look  here." 
He  pulled  me  roughly  into  his  study, 
and,  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  the  soup 
was  already  growing  tepid  on  the 
dining-room  table,  hunted  out  a  Brad- 
shaw,  an  A.  B.  C.,  and  a  chart  of  the 
"Underground  Eailways  of  London.  It 
looked  like  a  vertical  section  of  the 
human  body.  In  a  heated  oration 
lasting  some  twenty  minutes,  he  proved 
to  me  conclusively  that  the  cheapest 
and  quickest  way  to  get  to  hia  house 
from  Hampstead  Heath  (that  is  the 
mountain  fastness  where  I  reside)  was 
to  take  the  North  London  Railway  to 
a  little  village  in  the  provinces  called 
Willesden  Junction,  and  change  there 
for  Uxbridge  Eoad. 

I  said  "  Yes,"  meekly,  and  we  had  a 
pleasant  little  dinner  together,  during 
which  the  conversation  turned,  so  fai 
as  I  remember,  on  a  recent  alteration 
in  the  time-table  of  the  South-Eastern 


and  Chatham  Lino  between  Gravesend 
and  Victoria.  After  dinner  wo  discussed 
;ho  improved  Saturday  service  to 
Ponder's  End,  and  in  a  rather  lyrical 
light  Ponsonby  sketched  the  possibility 
at  no  very  distant  date  of  the  con- 
struction of  a  new  bay  at  Waterloo. 
If  it  ever  happens,  Ponsonby  will  be 
ihe  first,  I  feel  sure,  who  ever  bursts 
nto  that  silent  bay.) 

When  I  got  up  at  last  to  go,  "  Wait 
a  minute,"  he  said,  "  I  'm  coming  with 
you  ;  I  've  got  a  letter  to  post." 

"Can't  I   do  it   for  you?"   I  said 

:iopefully.  But  Ponsonby  was  obdurate. 

Ee  took  mo  firmly  by  the  shoulder  and 

marched  me,  shrinking  and  reluctant, 

;o  Uxbridge  Eoad  Station.     I  went  in. 

[  walked  to  the  booking-office.     I  felt 

ike  a  French  aristocrat  in  the  time  of 

the  Terror.     The  little  hutch  was  my 

uillotine.     Then  a  light  dawned. 

"  Can  you  change  half-a-sovereign  ?  " 
I  said  to  the  clerk,  and  looked  round 
swiftly  over  my  shoulder.  Ponsonby 
was  gone. 

I  gathered  up  my  silver,  turned  up 
the  collar  of  my  overcoat,  and  made 
a  bold,  successful  sprint  for  Holland 
Park. 

The  fact  is,  I  like  the  Tube.  It  is 
warm,  for  one  thing,  and  there  are 
little  notices  and  arrows  stuck  up 
everywhere,  so  that  a  cow  could  hardly 
go  wrong.  I  like  the  lift. .  I  like  the 
comfortable  feeling  of  my  warm  familiar 
strap.  I  like  the  smell.  I  like  the 
motion.  I  like  looking  at  the  people's 
spats.  But  now,  whenever  I  go  to 
Holland  Park  (and  unfortunately,  as  it 
happens,  I  have  to  go  there  pretty 
often),  I  feel  like  a  suspected  criminal. 
I  have  a  dreadful  feeling  that  Ponsonby 
may  be  lurking  somewhere  near,  spying 
upon  me.  Uxbridge  Eoad  hangs  round 
my  neck  like  an  albatross. 

And  yet,  after  all,  why  shouldn't  I 
use  the  Tube  if  I  want  to  ?  England  is 
a  free  country.  And  it  is  not  as  if  Pon- 
sonby had  shares  in  the  North  London 
Eailway.  No.  It  is  just  Bradshaw 
mania.  And  of  all  forms  of  lunacy 
Bradshaw  mania  is  the  worst.  For  one 
thing,  there  is  no  telling  when  it  may 
become  dangerous.  I  rather  suspect 
Ponsonby  of  having  a  ticket-punch 
concealed  about  his  person,  and  it  is 
principally  to  warn  the  public  that  I 
have  written  this  truthful  narrative. 
If  any  reader  of  it  should  chance  to  fall 
into  conversation  with  a  stranger,  a 
dark  sinister  man  with  a  wild  gleam  in 
his  eye,  who  suggests  that  the  proper 
way  to  get  from  Putney  to  the  Bank  is 
to  get  on  to  the  Lancashire  and  York- 
shire vid  Sheffield,  and  change  al 
Blisworth  Junction  for  Hartlepool  anc 
the  Severn  Tunnel,  let  him  have  a  Care 
For  that  will  be  Ponsonby. 


THE  SENIOR  MISTRESS  OF  BLYTH. 

['•BLYTII  SECONDARY  SCHOOL. — The  Gover- 
nors of  the  above  School  invite  applications 
'or  the  post  of  Senior  Mistress.  Candidates 
must  bo  Graduates  in  Honours  of  a  British 
Jniversity  and  must  bo  well  qualified  in 
Mathematics,  Latin  and  English.  Ability  to 
•each  Art  will  be  a  recommendation." 

Advt.  in  "  The  Spectator."} 

IT  is  told  of  the  painter  DA  VINCI, 

Being  once  unemployed  for  a  span, 
At  the  menace  of  poverty's  pinch  ho 

Sought  work  at  the  Court  of  Milan. 
Having  shown  himself  willing  and  able 

To  perform  on  the  curious  lyre, 
Ee  presented  the  Duke  with  a  table 

Of  the  talents  he  proffered  for  hire. 

I  can  raze  you  a  fortress,"  it  ran  on, 

"  Quell  castles,  drain  ditches  and  moats, 
Make  shapely  and  competent  cannon, 

Build  aqueducts,  bridges  and  boats; 
[n  peace  I  can  mould  for  your  courts  a 

Few  models  in  marble  or  clay 
And  paint  the  illustrious  SFOBZA 

With  anyone  living  to-day." 

LEONARDO  is  dead,  they  asseverate, 

He  has  left  no  successor  behind, 
For  the  days  of  the  specialist  never  rate 

At  its  value  the  versatile  mind. 
Is  Lord  BROUGHAM,  then,  our  latest 
example  ? 

No,  Time,  the  old  churl  with  his 

scythe, 
Shall  spare  us  a  notable  sample 

In  the  Senior  Mistress  of  Blyth. 

She  shall  guide  Standard  Three  through 

Progressions, 
Study  Statics  and  Surds  with  the 

Fourth, 

She  shall  dwell  on  DE  QUIXCY'S  Con- 
fessions, 
DONNE,  CAEDJION,  and  CimisTormyj 

NORTH ; 
And   no  class-room   shall   boast  of  a 

quicker  row 

When  her  classical  pupils  rehearse 
Their  prose,  which  is  modelled  on 

CICERO, 
And  their  more  than  HORATIAN  verse. 

She  shall  lead  them  to  love  CIMABUE, 

To  distinguish  with  scholarship  ripe 
'Twixt   the  texture  of   CLAUSEN  and 
CLOUET 

And  the  values  of  COLLIER  and  CUTP. 
Nay,  all  Blyth  shall  reflect  her  ability 

As  its  brushes  acquire  by  her  aid 
South  Kensington's  pretty  facility 

Or  the  terrible  strength  of  the  Slade. 

Yes,  her  duties  are  diverse,  and  this '11 

Suggest  to  each  candidate  why 
They  should  read  LEONARDO'S  epistle 

Before  they  sit  down  to  apply  ; 
For  his  style  is  itself  a  credential, 

Though  truly  lie  has  not  a  tithe 
Of  the  qualifications  essential 

To  the  Senior  Mistress  of  Blyth. 


APRIL  1C,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


311 


THE    DEMAND    FOR    BRITISH    WAITERS. 

THE  RECENT  BESTAURANT  STRIKES  MAY  BE  THE  MEANS  OF  INDUCING  SEVERAL  MID- VICTORIAN  WAITERS  TO  EMERGE  FROM  THEIB 

RETIREMENT. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

MR.  EDWIN  PUGH'S  Punch  and  Judy  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL) 
is  capital  fun,  and  I  have  enjoyed  reading  it  very  much. 
But  I  did  not  think  I  was  going  to.  At  first,  plunged  into 
that  grim  and  moving  episode  of  Pimch's  attempted  murder 
of  the  Coss  baby  for  its  own  good,  I  could  only  believe  that 
I  had  got  (if  you  will  forgive  me)  into  the  wrong  PUGH. 
But  it  was  all  right  really.  After  that  untoward  beginning 
the  author's  buoyant  optimism  asserted  itself  triumphantly, 
and  the  characters  were  the  same  brave  and  humorous 
Londoners  whom  the  author  has  so  long  taught  us  to  expect 
from  him.  Even  the  unwanted  baby  died  naturally,  and 
enabled  its  father  to  get  drunk  on  the  insurance  money. 
He,  I  may  say,  is  one  of  the  characters  that  do  not  appear, 
but  are  only  spoken  of.  Those  whom  you  meet  personally 
are,  with  very  few  exceptions,  sufficiently  amiable.  Punch 
himself,  the  Soho  gutter-snipe,  with  his  pale  face  and 
the  big  nose  that  earned  him  his  name,  is  jolly  enough 
to  be  worthy  of  it.  His  match-making,  on  the  simple 
Shakspearean  formula  of  false-report,  is  pure  joy.  All  the 
iction  of  the  tale  takes  place  in  Soho ;  and  those  who  know 
llr.  PUSH'S  art  will  not  need  to  be  told  how  well  ho  lias 
Cttocht  the  lively  spirit  of  the  place,  the  clatter  and  scent  of 
tho  little  restaurants,  the  interminable  traffic  of  the  narrow 
streets,  tho  polyglot  babel  of  the  inhabitants.  If  I  have  a 
word  of  complaint,  it  is  that  the  story  produces,  perhaps 
unavoidably,  an  effect  of  episodes  rather  than  a  concerted 
whole ;  episodes  humorous  or  tragic,  the  anarchists,  the 


affair  of  the  pistol  and  the  Prime  Minister,  and  others — all 
excellently  well  told,  but  a  trifle  detached.  For  this  reason, 
the  species  of  general  rally,  in  which  all  the  characters 
come  on  in  the  last  chapter,  and  say  their  little  tags  pre- 
paratory to  living  happily  ever  after,  struck  me  as  artificial. 
But  who  cares?  The  interest  and  jollity  of  the  book  are 
what  matter,  and  they  are  genuine  enough. 

The  Determined  Twins  (HUTCHINSON)  are  simply  Mr. 
JEPSON  doing  on  paper  what  he  would  love  to  do,  but 
daren't,  in  his  own  person  on  the  heights  of  Netting 
Hill.  Lady  Noggs  in  her  day  pulled  chairs  from  beneath 
elderly  gentlemen,  made  apple-pies  in  the  beds  of  unsuitable 
suitors,  led  trembling  Prime  Ministers  into  tho  nastiest  of 
quagmires ;  so  now  do  Violet  and  Hyacinth  Dangerfield. 
"  I  've  called  myself  Lady  Noggs  long  enough,"  says  Mr. 
JEPSON  ;  "  I  am  now  in  that  capacity  upon  tho  boards  of  a 
London  theatre;  watch  me  therefore  as  the  Determined 
Twins."  Watching  him,  then,  I  am  bound  to  confess  that 
his  antics  have  not  quite  the  freshness  of  humour  that  once 
was  theirs.  My  sympathy  is,  in  spite  of  myself,  on  the  side 
of  Captain  Easier  whose  brushes  were  in  his  bed  and  whose 
body  was  in  the  mud.  Had  Lady  Noggs  invented  the  Cat's 
Home  and  trailed  a  piece  of  cloth  with  valerian  upon  it  all 
about  the  country  roads,  then  I  am  sure  that  it  would  have 
amused  me ;  but  now  I  cannot  resist  the  feeling  that  the 
Dangerfields  have  been  forestalled,  or  perhaps,  more 
accurately,  that  I  have  seen  Mr.  JEPSON  laughing  at  his 
Cat's  Home  already  somewhere  else.  Then  the  incident  of 
the  German  princess  and  her  rescue  by  the  twins  needs  a 


312 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Aritn,  1C,  1913. 


delicacy  of  touch  that  is  exactly  Mr.  KENNETH  GBAHAUEB 
but  s  not  at  all  Mr.  JASON'S.  Whilst  Mr.  JEI-SON  is  amused 
by  the-  snoring  of  stout  ladies  and  the  apoplexi.es  of  stout 
on  the  athos  of  the  little  princess  slips  timidly 


on  the  pathos 
In  short,  although 


princess 
I  must  confess  that  lie  Deter- 


vav.  , 

mined  Twins  have,  on  occasion,  made  mo  laugh,  they  have 
not  made  me  laugh  very  often  -and  on  their  next  appear- 
ance 1  do  not  think  that  I  shall  laugh  at  all. 

Tho  author  of  The  Surgeon's  Log,  writing  of  what  ho 
knows  in  The  Night  -Nurse  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  of  the 
routine,  the  excursions  and  alarms,  the  heroisms  and  the 
littlenesses  of  hospital  service,  has  made  an  exceptionally 
interesting  story.  It  is  true  that  ho  provides  no  sufficient 
reason  for  the  estrangement  of  Dermot  Fitzgerald,  senior 
house  surgeon,  and  Nora  Townsend,  nurse  ;  but  m  .this 
fashion  of  artificially  corrugating  the  courses  of  true  love 
our  author  is  following  quite  a  number  of  mone  experienced 

to  accept  this  kind  of 


craftsmen.  One  has,  I  suppose 
thing  under  protest  as  a 
part  of  the  game;  but 
nothing  could  well  bo 
better  than  the  way  he 
manages  to  convey  tho 
hospital  atmosphere,  the 
splendid  efficiency  and 
precision  of  the  work, 
the  queer  undercurrents 
of  impulse  and  emotion 
controlled  by  quasi-mon- 
astic discipline,  or  some- 
times not  controlled,  with 
results  that  make  the 
warp  and  woof  of  his 
narrative.  The  hero's 
hospital  is  in  Dublin 
City,  and  ho  also  takes  a 
spell  of  fever  duty  in  a 
tiny  country  town.  The 
author,  whom  one  as- 
sumes to  be  an  Irishman, 
has  well  observed  and 
cleverly  presented  the 
charm  and  gaiety,  tho 
generosity  and  jolly 
t-asualness  of  his  countrymen.  It  is 


the  work  of  a  man 


who  can  see  the  depths  and  significance  of  tho  simple  life 


must  be  confessed  that  his  hand  is  heavy  indeed.  J'Thc 
distinguished  surgeon  left  for  the  Irish  metropolis  "  is  his 
too  typical  phrase  for  sending  a  specialist  to  Dublin.  You 
will  have  difficulty  in  believing  that  this  and  similar 
pedantries  are  by  the  writer  of  tho  wholly  delightful  chapter 
in  which  the  customers  of  Mary  Hannaglier  meet  iu  her 
little  shop  for  the  settlement  of  a  betrothal. 

I  am  a  stern,  rough,  rugged  man,  and  I  can  bear  most 
of  the  minor  ills  of  life  without  wincing ;  but  thero  is  one 
thing  that  cuts  me  to  the  quick,  and  that  is  a  split  infinitive. 
Miss  UNA  SILHEURAD,  on  the  other  hand,  appears  to  love 
these  mangled  horrors.  Keren  of  Lou-bole  (CONSTABLE),  her 
latest  book,  is  congested  with  the  severed  bodies  of  what 
might  have  been  lively  young  infinitives  full  of  health  and 
vigour.  Sir  James  Helton,  for  instance,  puts  his  pleasure 
first  "  and  all  else  so  far  after  as  to  seldom  have  strength 
left  to  attend  to  it,"  while  Betsy  Shipp  actually  "  wiped  her 
eyes  to  so  soon  lose  the  second  daughter."  Yet  none  of 

these  militant  outrages 
on  the  plate-glass  win- 
dows of  English  grammar 
could  spoil  Keren  of  Luw- 
bole  for  me.  It  is  a 
leisurely  book,  which 
depends  for  its  interest 
loss  on  its  story  than  on 
its  atmosphere  and  its 
subsidiary  characters. 
Indeed,  I  would  far  rather 
attempt  a  precis  of  a 
musical  comedy  than  try 
to  set  down  in  a  few 
words  the  actual  plot  of 
Keren's  adventures.  She 
wanders  through  the 
pages,  an  attractive 
young  poison  with  un- 
canny eyes  and  a  curious 
intimacy  with  tho  wild 
things  of  tho  forest, 
sometimes  accompanied 
by  a  gentleman  tramp 
named  Zacchary,  and 
sometimes  by  Tobiah,  a 
Somewhere  towards  the  end  you  will  find  the 


STUDIES  IN  CRIMINOLOGY. 

AX  ATTEMPT  OX  THE  CBOWN  JEWELS— -DRAWING   OFF  THE   GUARD. 


around  him  and  can  write  a  love  story  with  imagination 
and  without  too  cloying  a  sentimentality. 

The  house  of  METHCTEN  would  seem  to  be  establishing  a 
corner  in  Irish  fiction.  The  latest  example  is  Unconventional 
Molly,  by  JOSEPH  ADAMS,  which  the  publishers  are  good 
enough  to  tell  me  on  the  wrapper  is  a  romance  "  where  love 
and  jealousy,  tragedy  and  comedy  are  brought  into  play." 
This  is  such  a  friendly  load  that  I  am  deeply  sorry  to  be 
unable  to  follow  it;  but  the  fact  remains  that  I  myself 
found  the  story  part  of  the  book  more  than  a  little  dull. 
The  young  hero,  who  rents  a  West  of  Ireland  shoot,  cap- 
tivates the  peasants,  falls  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  a 
neighbouring  squireen,  and  finally  reveals  himself  as  the 
missing  heir  to  the  local  landowner,  is  never  more  than  a 
lay  figure  in  the  foreground  of  Mr.  JOSEPH  ADAMS'  sketches 
Irish  scenery.  Let  it  be  said  at  once,  however,  that 

lese  are  excellent.    And  there  are  some  genre  studies  of 

peasant  life,  fairs  and  evictions,  legends  and  merry-makings 

t  could  hardly  be  bettered.    It  is  only  where  the  author 

sems  to  have  considered  himself  under  the  irksome  necessity 
of  producing  romance  that  his  spirit  failed  him  ;  and  here  i't 


Dissenter. 


Last  Will  which  restored  Zacchary  to  the  fortune  of  which 


his  wicked  step-mother  had  deprived  him ;  and  all  through 
the  book  you  will  chuckle,  as  I  did,  over  the  excellent  humour 
of  Tobiah.  Add  to  these  things  that  sympathetic  knowledge 
of  human  nature  which  marks  all  Miss  SILBEKRAD'S  work, 
and  you  have  an  extremely  readable  historical  novel. 

Divers  Colours  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL) — a  collection  of 
short  stories  and  poems  by  MAUD  G.  MEUGENS— is  based  on 
the  idea  that  life  is  a  colour-scheme  blended  of  many  tones, 
but  that  each  separate  incident  and  abstraction  has  a  colour 
of  its  own.  Thus,  according  to  Miss  MEUGENS,  grey  stands 
for  tears  and  renunciation,  rose  colour  for  happiness,  yellow 
for  fame,  crimson  for  hate,  and  green  for  repose  and  healing. 
Personally,  I  think  much  nonsense  is  talked  by  people  who 
say,  for  instance,  that  Wednesday  is  brown  and  the  number 
eight  pink,  and  so  on.  But,  except  that  I  had  not  previously 
thought  of  dead  white  as  properly  suggestive  of  cruelty,  I 
find  that  my  ideas  of  the  meanings  of  colours  agree  very 
closely  with  those  of  Miss  MEUGENS.  And  I  like  her  stories. 
For  all  of  them,  especially  those  labelled  white,  yellow,  and 
rose,  are  imagined  with  charm  and  told  with  much  delicacy 
and  literary  feeling. 


APRIL  23.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


313 


require  to  be  paid  entrance  fees. 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  question  as  to  which  of  tha  two, 
Greece  or  Bulgaria,  is  to  have  Salonica 
threatens  to  cause  trouble  between  them, 
and,  rather  than  this  should  happen, 
Turkey,  it  is  said,  has  expressed  her 
willingness  to  retain  the  town. 

:|:     :|: 

Lieutenant  BAKOPULOS,  of  the  Greek 
Navy,  has  discovered  under  the  sea,  near 
the  Island  of  Lemnos,  a  town  01  iSout 
three  miles  in  circumference.  TL's  will 
be  most  handy  for  the  crews  nf  sub- 
marines when  they  want  to  do  a  little 
shopping  without  rising  tc  the  s-urface. 

"  Since  the  Marconi  affair,  '  says  a 
critic,  "the  Liberal 
Party  can  no  longer 
pose  as  the  saint  in  the 
stained-glass  window." 
Still,  if  they  leave  it 
without  a  stain  oh  their 

characters 

=;= ,  * 

"  Should  we  apply  to 
thsquestion  of -National 
Defonce  the  principles 
of  the  Insurance  Act, 
or  the  principles  of  the 
Life  -  Boat  Service  ?  " 
asked  Colonel  SEELY  in 
the  House.  He  favoured 
the  principles  of  the 
Life  -  Boat  Service.  In 
this  choice  ho  should 
have  the  support  of  the 
B.A.M.C. 


Mr.  Ru  NCI  MAN  has 
re -introduced  his  Bee 
Diseases  Bill,  and  the 
over- worked  panel 

doctors    are    breathing  LtxjK        DEAR'  °     DEAB'  CooK'  W1IX 
again:    It  had  been  i 


to   commit   a   crime  were   allowed   to 
enjoy  the  treat. 


*  * 

* 


The  report  that  Sir  HUBERT  VON 
HEBKOMEH,  R.A.,  is  to  become  a  cine- 
matograph actor  and  a  manufacturer 
of  films  is  no  doubt  responsible  for  the 
rumour  that  the  Royal  Academy  is 
about  to  move  with  the  times,  and  that 
Burlington  House,  like  the  New  Gallery, 
is  to  be  converted  into  a  picture  palace. 
*  * 

An  artist  suggests  the  holding  of  an 
exhibition  of  pictures  rejected  by  the 
Royal  Academy,  each  exhibitor  paying 
a  small  fee.     The  difficulty,  we  fancy,       By-the-by,   the    horso   which,   with 
would  be  that  the  public  might  also  its  van,  dashed  into  the  window  of  the 

l*Ann  I IV*     tf\     r\f\    r\a  irl     £\r*Lt,n  nf,f.     f , ,,  ,    .  A 1.  _  -1  1  * ..  .          1  t~* 


At  West  Green  Station  on  the  Great 
Eastarn  llailway,  we  are  told,  there  is 
a  goat  which  acts  as  a  watch-dog. 
Last  week  it  bleatad  an  alaim,  and  a 
suspiciaus  character  was  found  on  the 
station  premises.  We  understand  that 
the  Dogs'  Trade  Union  has  the  matter 
in  hand. 


*  * 

* 


A  bear  which  is  supposed  to  have 


Aerated  Bread  Company's  depot  in 
Chancery  Lane  last  week  would  like 
it  to  ba  -known  that  this  was  a  pure 


i     uuuiu     vu&a    \v  tta     <i     L/Ult? 

escap3d   from   a  travelling  show   has)  accident.    The  allegation  that  the  horse 


was  a  Suffragette,  has 
caused  it  much  annoy- 
ance. 


*  * 

* 


."Is.  Mr.  Joseph  W. 
Martin  dead  or  alive?  " 
asks  The  Daily  Express. 
As  a  rule  we  do  not 'deal 
with:  conundrums,  but 
the  answer  to  this  one 
is  surely,  "  Yes.".. 


Hard  Case  of  a  Gunner. 
"  Hopeless  "  writes  : 
"Dear  Mr.  Punch,  I  am 
a  middle-aged  officer  in 
the  Royal  Garrison 
Artillery,  which  I  joined 
in  the  reign  of  her  late 
Majesty  QUEEN  VIC- 
TORIA, and  still  hold  the 
rank  of  Lieutenant. 
During  my  rare 
moments  off  duty  I 
have  been  preparing  a 
volume  of  remin- 

— iscences  under  trie  title 

hat  the  bees  were  to  be  made  take-up  its  headquarters  in  a  wood  A  Subaltern  in  Three  Reigns.     It  was 


MASTER,  MASTER,  THE  KITCHEN  's  A-FIRE  !  " 

-_ XEVJSR    LEAR2T    THE    HAPPY    SIEiS' 

AT  THESE   CUTLETS',    THEY  ARE   POSITIVELY  RAW." 


subject  to  the  Insurance  Act. 

-    ,..  .       *  * 

Mr.  BiRRKLii  received  unwelcome 
attention  last  week  when  he  visited 
I  ha  Kingsway  Theatre  to  see  The  Great 
dvenlure,  a  lady  in  the  pit  addressing 
mm  loudly  by  name  and  asking  why 
lie  did  not  resign.  To  prevent  the 

urrence  of  these  undesirable  inter- 
ruptions, it  is  proposed  that  in  future 
.lirectly  a  Cabinet  Minister"  sets  foot 

•bin  a  theatre  he  shall  be  waited  on 

the  manager,  who  will  provide  him 
with  a  property  disguise. 

We  hesitate  to  believe  that  the  can 
mining  gunpowder  which  was  found 

ide  the  railings  of  the  Bank  of 
igland  was  placed  there  by  Suffra- 

tes.      The  sex  of  the  Old  Lady  of 

I    ll  ff\n  <4«^B_  Jll_  C I  i  *        _ 


Threadneedle 
protect  her. 

VOL.  cxuv. 


Street     should     surely 


near  Ballycastle,  and  children  are  being 
kept  at  home  for  fear  of  it.  The  more 
public-spirited  of  the  little  ones  are 
reported  to  have  allowed  their  teddy 
bears  to  be  placed  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  wood  as  decoys. 


*  * 


Meanwhile  one's  heart  goes  out  to 
Mr.  WALTER  WINANS.  This  misguided 
gentleman  has  just  gone  all  the  way  to 
Siberia  to  shoot  bears. 

*  * 

"Never  go  to  bed  with  cold  feet," 
says  The  Family  Doctor.  You  should, 
of  course,  leave  them  in  the  fender. 

*  =:= 

A  two-hour  concert  was  given  to  the 
convicts  at  Portland  Prison  the  other 
day  by  the  band  of  the  Royal  Welsh 
Fusiliers.  There  is  some  little  irritation 
locally,  we  hear,  because  only  such 
persons  as  hai  been  fortunate  enough 


to  have  been  published  in  July.  And 
now  its  chances,  which  depended 
largely  upon  the  poignancy  of  my 
position,  have  been  spoiled  by  an  un- 
expected order  under  which  I  am  to  be 
promoted  Captain  on  the  5th  of  May. 
This  has  come  upon  me  as  an  awful 
and  stunning  blow."  Mr.  Punch  sym- 
pathises deeply  with  the  bitterly  hard 
case  of  this  victim  of  the  new  Thirteen 
Years'  Rule,  and  feels  sure  that  if  the 
authorities  had  been  cognisant  of  hii 
projected  publication  they  would  not 
have  taken  so  hasty  a  step. 

"Mr.  Pease  spcke  with  pride  of  the  im- 
proved pension  scheme,  and  quoted  instances 
of  teachers  drawing  a  pension  of  £61  at  65. 
A  pound  a  year  fw  every  year  pf  service." 

DMy  Telegraph. 

They  may  start  teaching  at  four  years 
of  age  in  The  Telegraph  Office,  but  not 
in  the  Elementary  Schools. 


314 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[APRIL  23,  1913. 


GETTING    MARRIED. 
I.— THE  DAY. 

PROBABLY  you  thought  that  getting 
married  was  quite  a  simple  business. 
So  did  I.     We  were  both  wrong  ;  it  is 
the  very  dickens.     Of  course  I  am  not 
going  to  draw  back  now.     As  I  keep 
telling  Celia,  her  Eonald  is  a  man  of 
powerful  fibre,  and  when  he  says  he 
will  do  a  thing  he  does  it — eventually 
She  shall  have  her  wedding  all  right 
I  have  sworn  it.     But  I  do  wish  tha 
there  weren't  so  many  things  to  be 
arranged  first. 

The  fact  that  we  had  to  fix  a  day 
was  broken  to  mo  one  afternoon  when 
Celia  was  showing  me  to  some  relatives 
of  hers  in  the  Addison  Road.  I  got 
entangled  with  wi. elderly  cousin  on  the 
hearthrug ;  and  though  I  know  nothing 
about  motor -bicycles  I  talked  aboul 
them  for  several  hours  under  the  im- 
pression that  they  were  his  subject 
It  turned  out  afterwards  that  he  was 
equally  ignorant  of  them,  but  though) 
they  were  mine.  Perhaps  we  shall  gei 
on  better  at  a  second  meeting.  How 
ever,  just  when  we  were  both  thoroughly 
sick  of  each  other,  Celia  broke  off.  hei 
gay  chat  with  an  aunt  tp(  say  to  me — • 

"  By  the  way,  Ronald,  we  did  settle 
on  the  eleventh,  didn't  we  ?  " 

I  looked  at  <  her  blattkly,  my  mine 
naturally  full  of  motor-bicycles. 

"  The  wedding,"  smiled  Celia. 

"  Right-o,"  I  said  with  enthusiasm 
I  was  glad  to  be  assured  that  I  should 
not  go  on  talking  about  motor-bicycles 
for  ever,  and  that  on  the  eleventh, 
anyhow,  there  would  be  a  short  inter- 
ruption for  the  ceremony.  Feeling 
almost  friendly  to  the' cousin,  I  plunged 
into  his  favourite  subject  again. 

On  the  way  home  Celia  returned  to 
the  matter. 

"Or  you  would  rather  it  was  the 
twelfth?"  she  asked. 

"  I  've  never  heard  a  word  about  this 
before,"  I  said.  "It  all  comes  as  a 
surprise  to  me." 

"  Why,  I  'm  always  asking  you." 

"  Well,  it 's  very  forward  of  you,  and 
I  don't  know  what  young  people  are 
coming  to  nowadays.  Celia,  what's 
the  good  of  my  talking  to  your  cousin 
for  three  hours  about  motor-bicycling? 
Surely  one  can  get  married  just  as  well 
without  that  ?  " 

"One  can't  get  married  without 
settling  the  day,"  said  Celia,  coming 
Cleverly  back  to  the  point. 

Well,  I  suppose  one  can't.  But 
omehow  I  had  expected  to  be  spared 

this  bother.     I  think  my  idea  was 
hat  Celia  would  say  to  me  suddenly 
ne  evening,   "By  the   way,  Ronald, 
nt  forget  we're  being  married  to- 
morrow,"   and    I    should    hava    said 


"Where?"  And  on  being  told  th 
time  and  place  I  should  have  turned 
up  pretty  punctually;  and  after  m; 
best  man  had  told  me  where  to  stand 
and  the  clergyman  had  told  me  whai 
to  say,  and  my  solicitor  had  told  m( 
where  to  sign  my  name,  we  shoulc 
have  driven  from  the  church  a  happj 
married  couple  .  .  .  and  in  the  carriage 
Celia^  would  have  told  me  where  we 
were  spending  the  honeymoon. 

However  it  was  not  to  be  so. 

"All  right,  the  eleventh,"  I  said 
"  Any  particular  month  ?  " 

"  No,". smiled  Celia,:"  just  any  month 
Or,  if  you  like,  every  month." 

"The' eleventh  of  June,"  I  surmised 
"  It  is  probably  the  one  day  in  the  year 
on  which  my  Uncle  Thomas  cannol 
come.  But  no  matter.  The  eleventh 
let  it  be." 

"Then  that's  settled.  And  at  St 
Miriam's  ?  " 

For  some  reason  Celia  has  set  hei 
heart  on1;  St.  Miriam's.  Personally  I 
have  no  feeling  about  it.  St.  Andrew's- 
by-the- Wardrobe  or  St.  Bartholomew's- 
Without  would  suit  me  equally  well. 

"  All  right,"/!  said,  "  St.  Miriam's." 

There,  you  might  suppose,  the  matter 
would  have  ended ;  but  no. 

".Then!  will  you  see  about  it  to- 
morrow1"  _said  Celia  persuasively. 

I  was  appalled  at  the  idea. 

';  Surely,"  I  said,  .'"this  is  for  you 
or  your'  father,  or — or  somebody  to 
arrange." s.  .fr-.-. 

Of  course  it 's  for  the  bridegroom," 
protested  Celia."  - 

"  In  theory,' perhaps.    But  anyhow 
not  the  bridegroom  personally.      His 
best  man  ...  or  his  solicitor  ...  or 
I  mean,  you  're  not   suggesting 

that  I  myself Oh,  well,   if  you 

insist.     Still,  I  must  say  I  don't  see 
what 's  the  good  of  having  a  best  man 

and  a  solicitor  if Oh,   all  right, 

Celia,  I  '11  go  to-morrow." 

So  I  went.  For  half  -  an  -  hour  I 
padded  round  St.  Miriam's  nervously, 
and  then  summoning  up  all  my  courage^ 
I  knocked  my  pipe  out  and  entered. 

"  I  want,"  I  said  jauntily  to  a  sexton 
or  a  sacristan  or  something, — •"  I  want 
— er— a  wedding."  And  I  added,  "  For 
two." 

He  didn't  seem  as  nervous  as  I  was. 
He  enquired  quite  calmly  when  I 
wanted  it. 

"  The  eleventh  of  June,"  I  said.  "  It's 
probably  the  one  day  in  the  year  on 
which  my  Uncle  Thomas How- 
ever, that  wouldn't  interest  you.  The 
point  is  that  it 's  the  eleventh." 

The  clerk  consulted  his  wedding- 
book.  Then  he  made  the  surprising 
innouncement  that  the  only  day  he 
ould  offer  me  in  June  was  the  seven- 
eenth.  I  was  amazed. 


"  I  am  a  very  old  customer,"  T  said 
reproachfully.  "  I  mean,  I  have  often 
been  to  your  church  in  my  time. 
Surely — 

"  We  've  weddings  fixed  on  all  the 
other  days." 

"Yes,  yes,  but  you  could  persuade 
somebody  to  change  his  day,  couldn't 
you?  Or  if  he  is  very  much  set  on 
being  married '  on  the  eleventh  you 
might  recommend  some  other  church 
to  him.  I  daresay  you)  know  of  some 
good  ones.  You  see,  CM&— my — that 
is,  we'r*  particularly  J^gn,  for  some 
reason,  on  St.  Miriam's.1* 

The  clerk  didn't  appreciate  my  sug- 
gestion. He  insisted  that  the  seven- 
teenth was  the  only  day. 

"Then  will  you  have  the  seven- 
teenth ?  "  he  asked. 

"  My  dear,  fellow,  I  can't  possibly 
say  off-hand,"  I  protested.  "  I  am  not 
alone  in  this.  I  have  a  friend  with  me. 
will  go  back  and  tell  her  what  you 
say.  She  may  decide  to  withdraw  her 
offer  altogether.'' 

I  went  back  and  told  Celia. 

"  Bother," '  she  said.  "  What  shall 
we  do?"  .  | 

There  are  other  churches.  There 's 
your  own,  for  example." 

Yes,  but  you  know  I  don't  like 
that.  Why  shouldn't  we  ba  married 
on  the  seventeenth  ?  " 

I  don't  know  at  all.  It  seems  an 
excellent  day ;  it .  lets  in  my  Uncle 
Thomas.  Of  course  it  may  exclude 
my  Uncle  William;  but  one  can't  have 
iverything." 

"  Then  will  you  go  and  fix  it  for  the 
seventeenth  to-morrow  ?  " 

Can't  I  send  my  solicitor  this 
time?"  I  asked.  "Of  course,  if  you 
particularly  .want  me  to  go  myself,  I 
will.  But  really,  dear,  I  seem  to  be 
iving  at  St.  Miriam's  nowadays." 

And  «ven  that  wasn't  the  end  of  the 
Business.  For,  just  as  I  was  leaving 
ier,  Celia  broke  it  to  me  that  St. 
Miriam's  was  neither  in  her  parish  nor 
in  mine,  and  that,  in  order  to  qualify 
as  a  bridegroom,  I  should  have  to  hire 
a  room  somewhere  near. 

But  I  am  very  comfortable  where 
[  am,"  I  assured  her. 

You  needn't  live  there,  Ronald. 
You  only  want  to  leave  a  hat  there, 
you  know." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  I  sighed. 

She  came  to  the  hall  with  me ;  and, 
laving  said  good-bye  to  her,  I  repeated 
my  lesson. 

The  seventeenth,  fix  it  up  to- 
morrow, take  a  room  near  St.  Miriam's, 
md  leave  a  hat  there.  Good-bye." 
^  "  Good-bye.  .  .  .  And  oh,  Ronald !  " 
5he  looked  at  me  critically  as  I  stood 
n  the  doorway.  "  You  might  leave 
hat  one,"  she  said.  A.  A.  M. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— APRIL  23,  1913. 


'FATHER    TO    THE    THOUGHT." 

EUEOPA  (complacently).  "  WELL,    SO    THE    WAR    IS    PRACTICALLY    OVER  ? " 

TURKEY  (still  more  complacently,  having  read  reports  of  dissensions  among  the  Allies).  "  MY  FELICITATIONS, 
MADAM.    EVERYTHING   SEEMS  TO  POINT  TO  THE  OUTBREAK  OF  A  SANGUINARY  PEACE." 


APRIL  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


317 


Mistress.  "On,  BY  THE  WAY,  SMITHERS,  I'VE  ABRANGED  FOB  THE  BBEAKFAST  d  THE  SERVANTS'  HALL  TO  BE  A  O.VABTEB-O*- 

AS-HOUB  EAKLIEB  IN   FCTUBE." 

Smithers.  "THEN,  MY  LADY,  I  BEO  LEAVE  TO  GIVE  NOTICE."  Mistress.  "INDEED I    WHY?" 

Smithers.  "WELL,  MY  LADY,  IT  SEEMS  TO  ME  THAT  THIS  ESTABLISHMENT  is  BEING  CONDUCTED  FOB  YOUB  CONVENIENCE  BATHEB 

THAN  FOB  THAT  OP  THE  SERVANTS." 


FAREWELL    TO    POETEY. 

[An  eminent  lady  has  declared  that  "  it  is 
the  people  who  write  poetry  about  us  who 
prevent  us  women  getting  the  vote,"  the  idea 
being  that  such  poetry  does  not  allow  women 
to  be  taken  seriously.] 

THIS  is  the  last  song  I  shall  ever  sing ; 
No  further  carollings  from  me  shall 

come. 
This  year  the  swallow,  heralding  the 

Spring, 

Will  get  a  facer;   he  will   find   me 
dumb. 

The  depredatory  sparrow's  frequent 

meal 
(The  crocus)  also  will  be  plunged  in 

gloom, 

And  in  his  bitter  disappointment  feel 
That  it  was  hardly  worth  his  while 
to  bloom. 

But  think  not  inspiration  from  above 
Has  failed  me  nor  my  brain  has  lost 

its  grip  ; 
I  still  can  mind  how  "  love  "  will  rhyme 

with  "  dove," 

Still  know  I  "moon's  "  and  "June's" 
old  comradeship. 


No,  Eeader,  since  I  wooed  and  won  the 

prize, 

My  eveiy  poem  turns  to  Marguerite, 
Fain  would   I   hymn   her  cheeks,  her 

lips,  her  eyes, 

Also  her  fringe-net  and  her  dainty 
feet. 

Her  beauty,  through  these  fervent  songs 

of  mine, 
Throughout  the  ages  should  ba 

handed  down, 

And  DANTE'S  Beatrice  scarce  outshine 
In  coming  years  the  Marguerite  of 
Brown. 

But,  did  I  sing  her  as  she  is  to  me, 
Pattern  of  all  that's  feminine  and 

fair, 
She  'd   blame   her   Horace  when  men 

failed  to  see 

The  reasoning  brain  beneath  the 
golden  hair. 

For  she  would  have  them  note  her 

serious  side, 
Her  ready  judgment  (seldom  at  a 

loss), 

That  haply  they  may  deem  her  qualified 
To  mark  a  ballot-paper  with  a  cross. 


"Twixt  Muse  and  Marguerite  now  lies 

the  choice, 
And  so  the  Muse  appears  a  worthless 

thing. 
Henceforward  hushed  is  my  melodious 

voice ; 
This  is  tho  last  song  I  shall  ever  sing. 

"  A  startling  feature  cf  the  new  campaign 
is  that  men  as  desperate  as  they  are  brainless 
are  employed  in  these  acts  which  bafflo  the 
ingenuity  of  the  poHca." — Standard. 

We  hope  our  contemporary  does  not 
suggest  that  any  fool  can  baffle  the 
police. 

"  Every  reader  of  The  Times  Weekly  feels  at 
times  out  of  sorts,  lacking  in  energy,  devoid 
of  capacity,  pessimistic  and  depressed." 

Advt.  in  "  Times  Weekly." 

No,  no.  Not  if  he  reads  The  Times 
Weekly.  

HAVE  YOU  HEABD  THE   NEW   MELODY  : 

"  WHO  is  ARCHEB  ?  WHAT  is  SHEE  ?  " 
As  PLAYED  ON  THE  MARCONI 

STRINGLESS  BAND. 
CONDUCTOR  :   DAN  GODFREY  ISAACS. 


318 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON_CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  23,  1913. 


THE  INDISCRETIONS  OF  MR.  BLAISE. 

Mr.  Jonah  X.  Blaise,  America's 
jhampion  sleuth-hound,  gave  an  audi- 
ence at  the  Fit/  Hotel  last  Friday. 

Jonah  X.  Blaise  is  the  man  who 
pursued  and  captured  the  assassin  of 
LINCOLN  ;  who  removed  the  "  grafters  " 
from  San  Francisco  by  producing  the 
earthquake;  and  who  "discovered" 
HENBY  JAMES  when  the  famous  fic- 
tionisfc  flew  from 
America.  Physically 
Jonah  X.  is  a  won- 
derful man  for  his 
years,  but  he  is  obliged 
to  take  things  easy 
now  when  he  is  not 
engaged  on  a  job,  and 
he  received  his  visi- 
tors last  Friday  in 
bed.  He  wore  a  suit 
of  striped  accordion- 
pleated  pyjamas,  a 

cavalry  moustache,  a 

football  mask   and  a 

Shetland     night-cap. 

He  is  greatly  addicted 

to    smoking    and   all 

the  time  kept  puffing 

at  a  Tipperary  Larra- 

naga,  for  he  is  of  Irish 

descent    and     hopes 

eventually    to    settle 

down     in     the     Old 

Country  and  solve  the 

mystery,  Whostole  the 

Crown  Jewels?    But 

for   the   present    the 

supreme  direction  of 

his    business,    the 

largest  firm  of  detec- 
tive -  agents     in     the 

world,  is  too  fascina 

ting  an  occupation  to 

be    abandoned    by    £ 

man  still  in  full  pos 

session  of  allhisfacul 

ties    and    having    al 

command  the  largesl 

wardrobe  since  QUEEN 

ELIZABETH.    Besides 

Mr.  Blaise  is  a  greal 

educational  asset.  His 


modern  burglar  reads  BEKGSON  in  his   advise  Mr.  HANDEL  BOOTH  as  to  the 
leisure  hours,  that  '  bunk '  bankers  are  title  he  will  assume  on  his  appeal 
generally  crazy  about  STHAUSS'S  music 
or  the  origin  of  the  Aztecs.     My  pro- 
fessors make  a  psychological  study  of 
the  criminal,  and  having  discovered  his 


hobby  they  worm  their  way  into  his 
confidence.  Only  the  other  day  I  cap- 
tured one  of  the  biggest  swindlers  of  the 
a"o  by  an  appeal  to  his  aesthetic  tastes. 
1°  advertised  in  a  leading  paper  to 


in  the  next  Honours  List.  He  has  also 
undertaken  to  reconcile  the  conflicting 
statements  of  Mr.  GOSSE  and  Miss 
SWINBURNE,  and  to  preside  at  a  public 
debate  on  Edwin  Drood. 


'MAMMA,    DO  LOOK!      IS  THAT  AN   ANGEL?" 


staff  are  all  university  men,  and  when 
not    engaged  in   detecting    crime   are 


the  effect  that  if  A.  M. — his  initials — 
would  call    at   the  box-office    of    the 


occupied    in  lecturing    to    classes    of  i  Metropolitan  Opera  House   he  would 


students  in  such  subjects  as  dop-doc- 
toring,  jerry  -  building,  freak  -  faking, 
lock-smithery,  and  mine-salting. 

Asked  by  the  representative  of  The 
Daily  Terror,  who  was  accommodated 


be  given  a  stall  for  a  performance  of 
Elektra.  He  couldn't  resist  the  bait 
and  we  arrested  him  next  day." 

Mr.    Blaise's    list    of    engagements 
during  his  stay  in  England  is  a  won- 


cadilly."  Then  1  turned  to 
and  was  referred  to  page  491. 
is  not  only  the  largest  but  also  the 


'London' 
Londor 


with  a  seat  on  a  hot-water  can,  what ;  derful  testimony  to  his  versatile  powers, 
was  the  secret  of  his  success,  Mr.  Blaise  He  goes  next  week  to  stay  with  Mr. 
replied,  "  Scientific  training.  The  old !  CARNEGIE  at  Skibo  Castle  to  play  duets 

police  methods,  the  cut-and-dried  in-  j  with  him  on  his  mechanical  organ.    He   .„ — .,    —         „ 

ferential  platitudes  of  Sherlock  Holmes,  \  has  promised  to  persuade  Lord  EOSE-  richest  and  busiest  city^in  the  \vo 

are  useless  against  the  highly-educated  ;  BEHY  to  reconsider  his  decision  to  give  it  began.     "  Chestnuts," 

criminal  of  to-day.   Bomernber  that  the  up  public   speaking.     He  is  going  to  And  nothing  about  Piccadilly  at  all . 


JOINTS    IN   THE   ARMOUR. 

BEINQ  the  father  of  six  inquisitive 
children    I   naturally 
,ent  for  The  Parents' 
Book   directly  I  had 
read    the     advertise- 
nent ;  for  it  claimed 
.o   answer   children's 
questions  by  the  thou- 
sand, and  it  is  by  the 
housand    that    they 
rain  here.      It  would 
need  to  be  exhaustive, 
!  knew,  if  it  was  to 
ulfil  its  self-imposed 
,ask  of  answering  not 
only  my  family's  but 
ivery    family's   ques- 
lions ;  yet  I  was  not 
prepared  for  a  volume 
weighing  (as  it  does) 
3  Ihs.  13  ozs.     I  was 
hoping  for  India  pa- 
per and  close  type  so 
that  I  could  carry  it 
about  on  country  and 
even  town  walks  and 
not  be  put  to  shame. 
But  life,  of  course, 
is  not  like  that ;  life 
always  does  you. 

"  Now,  you  little 
demons,"  I  said  geni- 
ally that  evening 
"  gather  round  and  do 
your  worst;  your 
father  's  up  to  any 
trick.  Ask  me  any- 
thing you  like  and  I'll 
give  you  the  answer ; " 
and  I  opened  The 
Parents'  Bosk.  "  It 
is  too  much  to  hope, 
dear  Eric,"  I  added. 
turning  to  the  eldest, 
"  that  there  is  nothing  that  you  parti- 
cularly want  to  know  to-day  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said  with  disconcerting 
quickness,  "  it  is,  father.  What  does 
'  Piccadilly  '  mean  ?  " 

Now  this  was  something  that  I  have 
always  wanted  myself  to  know,  so  I 
turned  up  the  index  with  some  satiric 
tion  and  more  confidence.  But  no  "  Pic 


APRIL  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


319 


Eric  retired  unsatisfied,  and  Cuthbert 
took  tho  floor.  "  Please,  father,"  ho 
said,  "  what  became  of  the  wino  after 
the  Puke  of  CLAKEXCE  was  drowned 
in  it?" 

No  "Clarence"  in  the  index. 

"I  expect  it  was  given  to  the  poor," 
said  Cuthbert  philosophically,  and  with 
tho  lowest  opinion  of  reference  books 
he  too  retired. 

"  Now,  Patricia  ?  "  I  said  to  my  eldes 
girl.  Patricia  is  a  great  reader  anc 
I  expected  a  literary  poser.  I  mus 
ailinil,  that  I  got  it. 

"  What  was  tho  good  news  brough 
from  Ghent  to  Aix?  "  she  asked. 

The  index  this  time  seemed  more 
promising,  for  it  gave — 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett    . .  551 
Bobert  f,'yl 

hut  though  -the  poem  was  mentioned 
nothing  was  said  as  to  the  very  reason 
able  information  desired  by  my  deal 
offspring. 

Patricia  therefore  withdrew  to  make 
room  for  Horace,  who  merely  asked 
who  ato  the  first  boiled  egg.  I  knew 
that  it  was  useless  to  hope  for  light 
there,  so  I  gave  it  up  at  once.  "  Arising 
out  of  that  question,"  he  therefore  added 
(in  his  own  juvenile  paraphrase),  "may 
1  a-ik  who  first  boiled  a  pot  ?  "  but  the 
learned  disquisition  on  "  fire  "  provided 
for  parents  by  our  literary  heavy-weight 
did  not  go  into  that. 

"  And  you,  Ethelbert  ?  "  I  said. 

"  What  is  rag-time  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  index  passed  lightly  from 
"  Radium  "  to  "  Bagged  Hobin  "  and 
then  (most  unsuitably,  I  thought)  to 
"Ealiab,"  who  figures,  on  page  680, 
euphemistically  as  "  a  widow."  Nothing 
of  rag-time,  you  see.  I  then  looked  up 
"Music" — although  goodness  knows 
why  I  should— but  without  the  faintest 
success. 

Things  were  getting  very  bad.  Here 
were  five  of  my  little  brood  unanswered 
and  the  credit  of  literature  was  getting 
desperately  thin. 

"Now,  Augusta,"  I  said  to  the 
youngest,  "can't  you  think  of  some 
problem  that  we — this  volume  and  I — 
can  solve  for  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said  with  a  suspicious 
wriggle.  "Surely,  father,  more  than 
two  fleas  got  into  the  Ark,  didn't 
they?" 

*          *  *  * 

But  what  a  book  [ 

"  Mr.  McKenna  yesterday  promised  a  trade 
non  deputation    to    use    his    influenza  in 
favour  of  improved  arrangements  in  connec- 
tion with  shuttle-kissing." 

Halifax  Daily  Guardian. 
We   must   warn    Mr.    McKENNA  that 
when  you  have  influenza  any  sort  of 
kissing  is  dangerous. 


STUDIES    IN    CRIMINOLOGY. 

A  BURGLARY  AT  THE  NATURAL  HISTOBT  MUSEUM. 


THE  POST-IMPRESSIONIST  PUFF. 

(Sec  the  new  Futurist  Exhibition.) 
LET  me  be  futuristically  painted  I 
Such  treatment  I  should  prize 
Above  the  style  that  shows  me  sweetly 

sainted 

With  rainbow  halo- wise ; 
For  I  'm  quite  convinced  the  charms 
Of  my  rounded  neck  and  arms, 
Of  my  piquant  little  features  and  loosely 

coiffured  curls 

(With  others  I  might  mention), 
Will  attract  no  more  attention 
'rom   the  satiated  public   than   the 
charms  of  other  girls. 

But  if  some  Futurist  would  symbolise 

me 

As  I  appear  to  him, 
And  with  his  cryptic  brush  anatomise 

me 
And  tear  me  limb  from  limb  ; 


If  he  'd  illustrate  the  theme 
In  a  crude  chromatic  scheme 
And  place  my  tangled  icon  ill  a  funny 

sort  of  frame, 
As  the  latest  acquisition 
Of  a  crazy  exhibition 
I   should  leap  from   mediocrity   to 
prominence  and  fame. 

Come,  knots  and  knobs,  my  linea- 
ments embroider ! 
Come,  graduated  checks ! 
Come,  whorls   and  webs   and  mar- 
quetries that  moider 
And  vortices  that  vex ! 
Though  the  method  may  be  mad 
I  shall  get  a  gorgeous  ad., 
For  strangers  and   acquaintances,  re- 
lations, friends  and  foes 
Will  study  the  creation 
For  some  dawning  inspiration 
To   assist  them  in  distinguishing  n»y 
elbow  from  my  nose. 


320 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


23,  1913. 


CHECKMATING    TIME. 

[Lately  observed  in  the  course  of  a  time- 
honoured  manoeuvre  conducted  by  the  black 
rooks.] 

Philip  and  Rachel — I  put  the  gentle- 
man's name  first  because  they  are  rooks, 
and  that,  I  take  it,  is  the  convention  in 
bird  society — are  setting^p  house 
together.  When  I  say  "Wting  up 
house"  I  mean  it  literally;  but  per- 
haps I  should  say  that  they  are  re- 
storing an  old  historical  residence  which 
they  have  got  cheap.  Obviously  there 
is  nothing  suburban  about  Philip  and 
Rachel.  Their  idea  is  a  good  old 
English  rookery  of  the  best  period, 
with  a  few  select  neighbours  within 
a  talking  radius  of  a  mile  or  so  and  an 
eligible  view  of  me  in  the  (human) 
house  opposite. 

I  think  I  understand  Philip's  motives 
in  the  matter  of  matrimony.  He 's  had 
a  pretty  thin  time  of  it  during  the 
winter,  getting  rotten  grub  and  all 
the  rest  of  it;  so  at  last  he  sat  out 
with  Rachel  in  a  quiet  furrow — they  'd 
met  at  several  ploughed  fields  during 
January  and  done  all  the  new  hops  to- 
gether— fetched  her  a  Neapolitan  worm 
and  then  pulled  himself  together  like 
a  rook  and  put  it  to  her.  After  that, 
of  course,  he  had  a  certain  amount  of 
business  at  the  Gray's  Inn  Rookery 
(which  he  said  was  jolly  well  named), 
and  when  that  was  done  he  and  Rachel 
were  free  to  go  house-hunting. 

Not  least  pleasant  among  the  many 
amenities  of  rook  life  is  the  wedding- 
present  convention.  Ah,  my  friends, 
what  a  lesson  do  they  teach  us  humans ! 
Let  us  try  to  read  it.  But  must  I 
repeat  all  the  old  commonplaces  about 
the  duplication  of  wedding-presents? 
(No,  I  'm  afraid  I  mustn't.)  Suffice  it 
to  say  that,  supposing  Susan  and  I  are 
going  to  be  married,  the  Charleses  of 
this  world  send  rne  a  dozen  bread- 
knives,  and  the  Thomases  of  this  world 
a  dozen  chestnut  -  toasters,  bought  off- 
hand and  perfunctorily ;  and  mean 
while  I  am  left  to  cope  unaided  and 
without  sympathy  with  the  builders 
and  carpenters  who  have  sworn  to 
make  a  new  thing  of  the  old  manor- 
house  I  have  acquired,  wondering  if 
I  can  possibly  go  to  the  expense  of 
another  cartload  of  bricks  to  build  that 
game  larder  against  the  south  facade 
which  Susan  has  set  her  heart  on. 

How  different  it  would  be  if  Charles 
drove  up  in  his  motor,  the  tonneau 
bursting  with  bricks,  and  cried  cheerily, 
"Here,  my  dear  old  pal,  is  your  game 
larder !  Give  me  a  trowel  and  I  '11  soon 
show  you !  "  And  if  Thomas  arrived  in 
his  brougham,  hugging  a  load  of  mortar, 
and  with  a  pile  of  slates  on  the  opposite 
seat!  Could  I  but  see  them,  keen  as 


mustard,  top-hats  laid  aside,  wrestling 
with  the  bathroom  pipes  and  only 
pausing  to  wring  me  by  the  hand  and 
ay,  "  I  'm  a  confirmed  bachelor  myself, 
but  my  heart  goes  out  to  you  in  your 
new  life.  Anything  I  can  do — any- 
thing I "  Wedding-presents  of  bricks 
and  mortar  and  enthusiastic  assistance  ! 
Tis  a  duplication  devoutly  to  be  wished. 

Such  is  the  lesson  of  the  rooks. 
Philip's  and  Rachel's  friends  all  turn  up 
with  the  same  sort  of  present  and  the 
same  enthusiasm  in  the  work  of  restora- 
tion, and  Philip  and  Rachel  are  pleased 
with  every  fresh  bit  of  stick  they  receive. 
"  Hurray  1 "  says  Phil — I  can  see  him 
at  it  now — "  here 's  old  Percy  with 
another  bit.  Who'd  ha"  thought  it? 
Percy,  you  're  a  sportsman !  We  were 
just  wanting  some  more  straw.  It  "11 
come  in  handy  for  the  dining-room 
chimney." 

Then  he  sits  on  an  adjacent  bough 
and  says,  "  Shove  it  in,  dear  old  chap  ! 
Put  it  where  you  like." 

That  seems  to  be  Philip's  general 
idea — to  sit  alongside  of  Rachel  and 
talk  brightly  to  his  friends  and  relations 
while  they  do  all  the  work. 

"  That 's  a  jolly  bit  of  old  oak,"  he 
says  to  Cousin  Amy,  a  sentimental  old 
maid  who  does  nothing  but  bustle 
backwards  and  forwards  with  contri- 
butions. "  Where  did  you  pick  that 
up?" 

Cousin  Amy  blushes  (a  rook's  blush 
is  a  sort  of  purply-blue  affair).  "  I  've 
had  it  put  by  for  a  long  time,"  she 
confesses.  "  I  always  thought  it  might 
come  in  for  you  and  dear  Rachel." 

"  That 's  a  good  'un  !  "  cries  Philip. 
"I  've  only  known  her  a  couple  o' 
months.  Haw-haw-haw!"  And  he 
simply  shrieks  with  laughter. 

Then  Rupert  comes  staggering  up 
with  a  young  scaffolding-pole,  and 
everyone  stops  work  to  cheer  him.  He 
drops  it  several  times  ;  but  what  does 
that  matter  to  a  willing  young  chap  like 
Rupert  ?  Down  he  goes  in  a  series  of 
vol-planes,  and  never  rests  till  he  's  got 
it  safely  to  its  destination.  (I  think  I 
see  Charles,  when  his  bread-knife  gets 
lost  in  the  post,  moving  heaven  and 
earth  to  recover  it,  or  buying  me 
another  !  His  way  would  rather  be  to 
pretend  that  something  he  'd  never  sent 
had  got  lost,  and  to  slang  me  for  not 
acknowledging  it.) 

"  Now  then,"  says  Rupert,  "  where 
shall  I  ram  it  in  ?  " 

"  I  think  the  basement  wants 
strengthening  a  bit,"  says  Philip, 
putting  his  head  on  one  side  and 
considering. 

"  Or,  how  about  the  drawing-room 
floor  ?  "  chips  in  Rachel.  "  A  few  extra 
joists  wouldn't  do  it  any  harm." 

They  talk  it  over  among  themselves, 


and  then  Rupert  jabs  it  in,  nearly 
spitting  old  Uncle  Benjamin,  who  is 
already  nursing  his  gout  in  the  best 
bedroom. 

Uncle  Benjamin — a  distinguished 
old  soldier  who  has  besn  in  many  of 
the  wars — swears  freely.  .  .  . 

And  so  it  goes  on.  The  service  of 
Hymen  is  not,  as  with  us,  a  sort  of 
ghoul's  carnival,  but  a  social  function 
the  best  sense,  a  national  sport 
indulged  in  by  all  the  nice  people. 
How  else  should  Rupert,  that  young 
:xquisite,  toil  about  all  day  with 
assorted  timber,  which,  he  explains, 
was  chucked  at  him  for  an  old 
song?  How  else  should  Lord  Jim, 
that  fine  old  patron  of  the  turf,  keep 
on  dropping  in  with  a  bit  of  it  for  his 
grandson's  private  use?  Day  by  day 
the  mansion  grows.  Day  by  day  I  see 
the  noble  Gothic  foundations  added  to 
and  at  last  o'ertopped  by  the  stately 
pile. 

***** 

The  other  night  I  made  sure  the 
house-warming  was  taking  place.  As  I 
lay  sleepless  I  heard  the  full  tide  of 
hospitality  surging  from  the  lately 
completed  house  of  Philip  and  Rachel. 
Many  a  rousing  chorus  was  borne  to 
me  on  the  strong  night  wind,  and  now 
Cousin  Amy  would  hold  the  field  as  she 
quavered  out  "  The  Stately  Homes  of 
England  "  in  her  old-world  voice,  and 
now  Percy  would  give  his  fine  rendering 
of  "  Cras  amct  qui  nunquam  amavil." 

As  it  happens,  I  was  wrong.  The 
next  morning  there  were  the  Gothic 
foundations  in  their  original  propor- 
tions. The  rest  of  the  stately  pile  had 
been  scattered  to  (and  by)  the  four 
winds.  Were  they,  then,  sounds  of 
lamentation  which  I  had  heard?  Not 
a  bit  of  it !  It  was  the  rook  version  of 
"  Are  we  down-hearted  ?  "  As  I  looked 
out  of  my  window,  there  were  Philip 
and  Rachel  still  together  on  the  bough, 
once  more  instructing  the  indefatigable 
Percy  and  Rupert  and  Cousin  Amy  and 
all  the  rest  of  'em.  Even  old  Uncle 
Benjamin  had  already  re-established 
his  armchair  in  the  basement. 

"Shove  it  in,  dear  old  chap!"  said 
Philip,  as  Rupert  came  staggering  up 
with  a  young  scaffolding-pole.  .  .  . 
"  But  not  quite  so  much  jerry-building 
this  time,"  I  think  he  added. 

From  Amicus,  Ceylon's  Illustrated 
Weekly : — 

"  EBATTA.  In  the  article  '  From  Choir  Boy 
to  Organist '  our  readers  will  detect  a  mis- 
print. The  mistake  occurred  under  excep- 
tional circumustances." 

We  have  just  detected  two  more 
eratta,  but  in  the  circumustances  we 
will  forgive  them ;  only  it  must  not 
become  a  habit. 


APBIL  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


321 


Gouty  Music-hall  Agent.  "WHAT'S  TEB  BUSINESS?" 
Agent.  " WELL,  GO  ON;    MAKE  ME  LAUGH." 


Struggling  Actor.  "COMEDIAN." 


PIFFLE  ABOUT  PENMEN. 

Mr.  Horace  Mewlett  is  about  to 
publish  a  volume  of  verse  to  which 
he  has  give  the  alluring  title  of  Lyra 
Felina.  As  he  remarks  in  his  Fore- 
word, "  Hitherto  no  attempt  has  been 
made  to  express  the  true  inwardness  of 
those  poignant  ululations — those  cris 
de  caur  which  are  amongst  the  most 
thrilling  of  the  voices  of  the  night  in  a 
great  city."  He  adds  that  he  hopes  no 
one  will  ask  him  whether  these  poems 
are  vitiated  by  the  pathetic  fallacy,  but 
that  if  they  do  he  has  no  intention  of 
answering  them.  The  book  is  dedi- 
cated to  the  Marquis  of  Carabas,  and 
will  be  shortly  issued  through  the  firm 
of  Catter  and  Wall. 


You  may,  if  you  like  new  poetry, 
remember  a  volume  which  appeared  a 
few  years  ago,  entitled  "Falsetto 
Flutings."  It  was  written  by  Mr. 
Jasper  Didham,  a  quite  young  man, 
and  combined  ingenuous  candour  with 
a  remarkable  mastery  of  technique. 
Since  then  Mr.  Didham  has  married  a 


poetess,  and  a  joint  volume  from  their 
pens  is  now  promised  by  Messrs. 
Tootill,  under  the  attractive  title  of 
"  Didhams."  _____ 

Miss  Dorothy  Scoop's  many  friends 
assembled  last  Saturday  afternoon  to 
do  her  honour  at  a  stand-up  tea  at  the 
Diana  Club.  The  occasion  for  the 
festivity  was  her  forthcoming  marriage 
which  will  remove  her  from  London  to 
Alaska,  where  her  husband  runs  a  seal- 
farm.  Miss  Scoop  hopes  to  turn  the 
local  colour  to  profitable  advantage 
in  her  next  novel,  the  title  of  which 
is  provisionally  fixed  as  "An  Arctic 
Mermaid." 

It  is  curious  that  no  history  of  Bootle 
and  Chowbent  haseveryet  been  written. 
The  omission  is  now  to  be  remedied  by 
a  volume  from  the  pen  of  the  Lancashire 
archaeologist,  Mr.  Enoch  Earwaker, 
who  has  compiled  a  stirring  chronicle 
of  the  historic  happenings  which  have 
lent  lustre  to  these  euphoniously  named 
towns.  The  book  will  be  published  by 
the  Dinwiddies. 


Dr.  Salubr}',  the  great  eupeptic  ex- 
pert, has  just  completed  a  study  of  "The 
Quick  Lunch,"  which  will  appear  in  the 
"  Jack  and  Jill :>  series  of  cheap  mono- 
graphs. It  describes  the  origin  and 
history  of  the  famous  "  Self- Help " 
Eestaurant,  of  which  Mr.  Eustace 
Smiles  is  the  founder  and  proprietor. 

It  is  announced  that  Sir  GEORGE 
ALEXANDER  has  completed  the  first 
instalment  of  his  Reminiscences,  which 
will  appear  serially  in  Ttie  Tailor  and 
Cutter. 


"  The  Suffragette  leader,  looking  very  palo 
and  emancipated,  was  driven  out  of  prison  in 
a  closed  carriage." — Dublin  Saturday  Herald. 

The  wish  is  father  to  the  look. 


"  Dishes  should  be  supplied  at  moderate 
intervals,  and  not  taken  gulping  with  5  fingers 
but  with  spoon.  There  should  always  be  an 
agreeable  chat  in  sweet  company — a  sweet 
innocent  table  talk,  bost  in  the  family  circle." 
Hindoo  Patriot. 

Too  frequent  specimen  of  agreeable 
chat  in  the  family  circle :  "  Oh  lor', 
Maria,  not  mutton  again?  " 


322 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  23,  1913. 


Governess.  "AND  WHOM  DID  THE  GODDESS  AUEORA.  MABRY?' 


Pupil.    "  BOBEALIS  I  " 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS/' 

[Captain  WOOD  and  Captain  GHEEN  have 
resigned  their  commissions  in.  His  MAJESTY'S 
Army  in  order  to  appear  on  the  stage  of  the 
Coliseum  music-hall.] 

LET  poets  of  the  past  enlarge 

On  martial  deeds  of  derring-do, 
On  Balaclava's  famous  charge, 

On  feats  of  arms  at  Waterloo ! 
With  bays  let  other  bards  bedeck 

The  heroes  of  a  hundred  fights 
Who  helped,  at  Cabul  or  Quebec, 

To  hold  the  fort  or  scale  the  heights, 
Who  swept  the  field  at  Inkerman 
Or  stormed  the  terrible  Eedan  1 

The  warriors  I  prefer  to  hymn 

Are  products  of  this  peaceful  aga 
Who,  with  a  courage  truly  grim, 

Have  scaled  the  boards  and  stormed 

the  stage. 
Here,  facing  fearful  "  gods  "  each  day, 

They  hold  the  fort  from  hour  to  hour, 
While  jugglers  view  them  with  dismay 

And  even  acrobats  look  sour 
To  see  them  greeted  with  the  shouts 
Reserved  for  comic  knockabouts ! 

How  fearlessly  their  fun  they  poke 
At  Suffragettes  and  Volunteers ! 

How  boldly  crack  the  killing  joke, 
A  credit  to  their  martial  peers ! 


What  pluck,  what  valour  each  displays ! 
Though  rivals  deem  their  humour 

poor, 

!  To  me  such  feats  recall  the  days 
Of  WOLFE,  of  WELLINGTON  and 

MOORE, 

When  braver  act  was  never  seen 
Than  this  of  Captains  WOOD  and 
GREEN! 

ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 

THE  WATCH. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man 
who  in  a  moment  of  foolishness  gave 
ninety  and  'odd  pounds  for  a  watch. 
It  was  a  musical  watch,  and  small 
children's  faces  lit  up  when  they  heard 
it ;  but  none  the  less  after  two  years 
he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  money 
would  be  more  useful.  So  he  put  it  in 
its  beautiful  velvet  and  leather  case  and 
took  it  back  to  the  shop  and  asked  the 
stately  gentleman  behind  the  counter 
to  buy  it.  But  the  stately  gentleman 
said  that  he  never  did  anything  like 
that,  but  would  exchange  jewellery  for 
it.  And  then  the  man  took  it  to  a 
dealer  whose  one  avowed  desire  was 
the  purchase  of  old  watches,  and  this 
dealer  disregarded  the  musical  part  of 
it  altogether,  as  well  as  the  detail  that 


it  kept  time,  and  offered  merely  the 
price  of  the  gold.  And  then  the  man 
took  it  to  various  other  dealers,  and  the 
highest  offer  that  was  made  to  him 
was  less  than  a  third  of  the  original 
price,  and  in  disgust  he  thrust  the 
thing  back  into  his  overcoat  pocket, 
and  hated  all  men,  and  realised  to  the 
full  once  more  (as  every  decent  fellow 
must,  now  and  then)  what  a  gulf  is 
fixed  between  buying  and  selling,  buyers 
and  sellers.  And  that  being  the  day 
of  the  Boat  Eace  it  followed  that  in 
Leicester  Square  his  pocket  was  picked 
and  the  watch  disappeared.  And  when 
by  chance  he  discovered  his  loss  his 
face  brightened,  and  he  began  to  take 
a  kindlier  view  of  life,  and  "  So  that 's 
settled,"  he  said. 


"New   (12s.  Gd.)   pair  complete  Sandow's 
Dumb-bells  for  poultry." 

Advt.  in  "Feathered  World." 
Our  Buff  Orpington,  Frederick,  is  now 
fifteen  round  the  biceps. 


"  Use 's  original  Patent  Flour,  of  all 

grocers  in  yellow  bags." 

Adrt.  in  "Bristol's  Young  Men." 
It   would  be  useless  to   apply  to   our 
grocer,  who  clings  to  the  old-fashioned 
brown  tweeds. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— Arniti  23.  1913. 


\ 


VOWED    TO    SILENCE. 

LORD  EOSEBERY  (in  the  deaf-and-dumb  alphabet).  "AND     HOW     DO     YOU     FANCY     ME     A3     A 
TEAPP1ST?"  MB.  PUNCH  (out  loud).  "NOT   A   BIT." 

[Lord  ROSEBERY,  at  a  dinner  o£  the  Press  Club,  announced  that  he  might  possibly  never  make  another  speech  in  public.] 


23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


325 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIARY  OP  TOBY,  M.P.) 
House  of  Lords,  Monday,  April  14. — 

Les  beaux  csprits  se  rencontrcnt.     Noblo 

Lords  meeting  to-day  concerned  them- 
selves with  Ancient  Monuments.     Bill 

introduced  by  BEAUCHAMP.  Whereupon, 

there   being    no    other 

business  on  hand,  the 

House,     consisting    of 

half  -  a  -  dozen      peers, 

forthwith  adjourned. 
"  Hardly  worth  while 

putting    on    wig     and 

gown  and  fetching  out 

Purse-bearer  from  the 

domestic    circle,"    said 

LORD    CHANCELLOR. 

"  Sometimes  get  a  little 

tired    of     this    make- 
believe  of  work.     Oh, 

to  bo  in  the  Commons 

now  April 's  there,  and 

that      man      of      war, 

SANDYS,  brings   in  his 

Conscription  Bill,  sets 

his  squadron  in  the  field, 

and  straightway  sounds 

strategic  retreat." 
Eenewed  talk  about 

little  affair  that,  since 

Session     opened,    has 


Bill  legalising  immemorial  custom  in  •  cessions  made  by  LLOYD  GEORGE  Bill 
matter  of  collection  of  taxes  pending  still  in  Committee  Stage  when  House 
passage  of  Budget  Bill  is  giving  un-  adjourned. 


expected  trouble.  Both  sides  equally 
interested.  Successive  Chancellors  of 
Exchequer  have  for  three-score  years 
pursued  convenient  course  now  arrested 
by  judicial  dictum.  If  means  be 


HUGH,  STEEL-MAIT- 
and  CASSEL  on  this 
For  profundity  of 


Pretty  to  see  TIM  HEALY  leading  SON 

AUSTEN,  COUSIN 

LAND,  BANBUKY 

new    campaign. 

historical  and  legal  lore,  for  reverence 
for  the  British  Con- 
stitution which  a  reck- 
less Government  were 
"attempting  to  decant 
into  a  short  Bill,"  for 
noble  jealousy  of 
ancient  rights  of  House 
of  Commons,  withal  for 
judicial  moderation  in 
criticism,  our  quondam 
TRUCULENT  TIM  was 
inimitable. 

House  of  Commons, 
Tuesday.  —  Interesting 
to  watch  the  growth 
of  catalogue  of  risky 
words  which  come  to 
be  authorised  as  Parlia- 
mentary expressions. 
In  some  cases  distinc- 
tion as  delicate  as  that 
between  P.M.  and  M.P. 
established  by  Post 
Office.  Here  are  two 
identical  letters,  the 


^    I 


spread  vague  feeling  of        Dressing-room  accommodation  provided  for  the  barons  in  the  days  of  KIKG  JOHN.  fi    t   {          charged    as 

:-.     8.        These  defective  arrangements  have  already  been  remedied.  .      ,  ,°     TT 

perturbation.     Coming  a    single    word.      Use 


back  to  their  duties  Peers  find  them- 
selves, by  thoughtful  attention  of  Board 
of  Works,  provided  with  a  dressing-room. 
Accommodation  primitive  since  days  of 
Magna  Charta.  KING  JOHN'S  barons 
riding  down  to  Westminster  used, 
according  to  contemporary  record,  to 
stack  their  armour  and  lances  in  Palace 
Yard,  the  police  on  duty  undertaking 
to  keep  an  eye  on  them.  Suddenly, 
sharp  on  passage  of  Parliament  Act,  in 
near  anticipation  of  introduction  of 
so-called  Keform  Bill  designed  to 
complete  work  of  disintegration,  the 
House  of  Commons,  egged  on  by  the 
Government,  voted  a  sum  of  £195  for 
a  dressing-room. 

"  There 's  more  in  this  than  meets 
the  eye,"  said  NEWTON,  his  mobile 
countenance  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale 
cast  of  apprehension.  "  Something 
about  it  akin  to  the  tactics  of  the 
farmer  who,  at  approach  of  Christmas, 
delights  unwary  flocks  of  geese  and 
turkeys  by  unwontedly  generous  feed- 
ing. They  may  call  it  a  dressing-room. 
It  really  is  what  HALSBURY  would  call 
1  a  sort  of '  Preamble  to  a  Bill  depriving 
Peers  of  last  shred  of  hereditary 
legislative  power.  When  I  was  at 
school  I  was  taught  in  a  foreign 
language  to  distrust  the  Greeks  when 
they  brought  gifts.  I  do  so  now." 

Business  done. — In    the    Commons 


not  taken  to  legalise  practice,  Chan- 
cellor in  next  Unionist  Government 
will  find  himself  in  same  pickle.  But 
it 's  the  business  of  Opposition  to 
honourable  gentlemen 
Gangway  to  left  of 
the  men  to  shirk  it. 


oppose, 
seated 


and 
above 


SPEAKER    not 


Accordingly  amendment  after  amend- 
ment submitted,  and  in  spite  of  con- 


TIM  HEALT  exhibits 
British  Constitution." 


"reverence  for 


them  in  reversed  order  and  bang  goes 
another  ha'penny.  MOORE  of  North 
Armagh  has  for  nearly  three  weeks  been 
suspended  from  service  of  House,  liable 
if  caught  upon  the  premises  to  be 
manacled  and  removed  to  the  deepest 
dungeon  below  the  castle  moat.  And 
wherefore?  Because  in  moment  of 
earnest  conviction  he  genially  described 
action  of  Government  in  regard  to 
debate  on  Consolidated  Fund  Bill  as 
"  disgraceful  trickery." 

Everything  turned  upon  use  of  the 
adjective.  Some  authorities  testify  that 
precedent  for  its  admission  into  conver- 
sation had  been  permitted  by  previous 
occupiers  of  the  Chair.  WHITLEY 
inflexible  in  ruling  the  word  unparlia- 
mentary ;  and  as  North  Armagh  would 
not  withdraw  it  House  has  through 
sort  of  supplementary  Lenten  time 
lamented  his  absence  and  missed  his 
occasional  interjectionary  incursions 
into  current  debate. 

To-day  COUSIN  HUGH  denounced 
BANBUHY  as  "  a  Parliamentary  King's 
Proctor."  WHITLEY,  again  in  Chair, 
made  no  sign  of  remonstrance.  Phrase 
undoubtedly  has  associations  with  an 
unsavoury  Court  of  Law  where  in 
suspicious  cases  the  King's  Proctor  is 
accustomed  to  intervene.  Therein  lay 
the  analogy  discerned  by  a  poetic  mind. 
In  Committee  on  Collection  of  Taxes 


It  would  certainly  have  immense 
influence  in  advancing  progress  of  busi- 
ness. Whilst  thus  achieving  maximum 
of  good  it  would  be  responsible  only  for 
minimum  of  evil.  As  Lord  BOSEBERY 
said  the  other  night,  no  one  reads  long 
reports  of  speeches  delivered  in  either 
House  of  Parliament,  whilst  few  papers 


•v 


Bill,  Government  accepted  an  amend- 
ment moved  by  COUSIN  HUGH/  BAN- 
BURY,  resenting  action  that  would  have 
effect  of  easing  progress  of  the  measure, 
suggested  that  COUSIN  HUGH  was 
"  actafig  in  collusion  with  the  Govern- 
ment."-- 

No  such  paradoxical  accusation  lias 
been  made  since  on  a  day  in  the  last  cen- 
tury NEWDEGATE,  stung  by  WHALLEY'S 
insinuation  that  he,  pillar  of  pure 
Protestantism,"  was  in  secret  league 
with  the  POPE  OF  BOME,  retorted  by 
declaration  of  belief  that  WHALLEY, 
an  equally  energetic  champion  of  the 
true  faith,  was  a  Jesuit  iu  disguise. 
It  stung  COUSIN  HUGH  to  the  quick. 
Lost  not  »  moment  in  repudiating  the 
charge.  *  Explained  that,  so  far  from 
having  been  led  astray  by  the  blandish- 
ments of  the  Government,  he  was  the 
seducer,  not  they.  The  intervention  of 
the  Parliamentary  King's  Proctor  was 
accordingly  made  upon  total  miscon- 
ception of  the  facts. 

Encouraged  by  toleration  from  the 
Chair  in  matter  of  disorderly  language, 
COUSIN  i  HUGH  tried  another  flight. 
The  Member  '  for :  the  City  of 
London,"  he  said,  "  is  a  hypocrite  in 
this  matter,  for  no  one  is  more  prone 
to  compact  with  the  Government 
than  is  he.  The  difference 

between  us  is  that  he  prac- 
tises his»vices  in  secret  behind 

the  SPEAKER'S  Chair,  whereas 

I   declare  the  truth    openly 

across     the     floor    of      tho 

House." 
BANBURY,     not      easily 

abashed,  had  no  retort  ready. 

Several  Members  made  note 

of  the  fact  that  it  is  within 

the  rules  of  order  not  only 

for  one  Member  to  describe 

another  as  a  Parliamentary 

King's  Proctor,  but  he  may, 

unrebuked,  fling  at  him  the 

taunt  of  being  a  hypocrite. 
Business    done.  —  House, 

having   suspended   Standing 

Order  with  intention  of  sitting 

all  night  if  necessary  to  com- 
plete   Committee    Stage    of 

Collection    of    Taxes     Bill, 

accomplished    its    work    at 

twenty-five  minutes  to  nine 

o'clock. 

Friday. — On  Grand  Night  SARK  dined  j  Neither  the  tongues  of  men  nor  angels 

with   the  Treasurer  and   Benchers  of  would  alter  this  fixed  intent.     "Then 


The  gallant  MOOBE  in  exile. 

present  them.  Exception  is,  of  course, 
made  when  the  speaker  is  Lord  KOSE- 
BERY.  That  a  personal  detail.  • 

As  to  effect  of  speeches  upon  the  fate 
of  measures  it  is  notoriously  nil.  In 
anticipation  of  a  critical  division  Mem- 
bers on  both  sides  come  down  absolutely 
determined  to  vote  in  a  certain  Lobby. 


OUR  FESTAL  ANNIVERSARIES. 

[By  one  u-ho  is  not  very  good  at  them.] 
"  TO-MORROW,"  I  said,  "  is  April  23rd 


— Primrose  Day." 

'  So  it  is,"  exclaimed  Cicely. 


'  How 


nice 


COL-SIN  HUGH 
Proctor." 


denounces   BANBURY  as  "a  Parliamentary  King's 


Inner  Temple.  Much  struck  by  a  detail 
which  suggests  possibility  of  marked  im- 
provement in  Parliamentary  procedure. 
On  card  of  invitation  was  engraved  the 
magic  words,  "  No  Speeches." 

"  Why,"  he  asks,  "  should  not  our 
Whips,  in  sending  out  their  occasionally 
peremptory  invitation  to  attendance  on 
particular  nights,  adopt  this  formula  ?  " 


why,"  SARK  asks,  "waste  time  in 
delivery  of  speeches  for  the  most  part 
tedious  ?  " 

A  bold  suggestion,  impracticable  at 
first  sight.  But  its  premiss  that  speech- 
making  does  not  influence  votes  is 
undeniable. 

Business  dona, — Talk  about  Housing 
of  Working  Classes. 


I  scarcely  like  to  confess  it,".  I 
added  hesitatingly,  "  but  to  tell  the 
honest  truth,  Cicely,  I  don't  really 
know  the  origin  of  Primrose  Day.  Of 
course  I  'm  aware  it 's  some  kind  of 
national  festival,  but  precisely  what,  I 
can't  say." 

"  No  more  can  I,"  admitted  Cicely,  to 
my  relief.  "  That  is  to  say,  I  'm  not  at 
all  sure,  but  I  think  it's  connected  in 
some  way  with  Lord  EOSEBERY  and 
the  Derby." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  I  more  confi- 
dently, "  I  fancy  it  is  associated  with 
ST.  GEORGE,  the  Patron  Saint  of  Eng- 
land. When  you  come  to  think  of  it 
the  rose  is  the  emblem  of  ST.  GEORGE. 
Primrose,  of  course,  comes  from  a 
Latin  root — the  word,  I  mean,  not  the 
flower.  Prim  should  properly  be  Prime, 
signifying  First.  And  here,  I  venture 
to  think,  we  have  support  for  my 
theory.  Years  ago  it  would  have  been 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  produce 
real  roses  in  England  much  before 
April  23rd,  and  thus  the 
prim  or  first  rose  would 
naturally  be  adopted  as  the 
symbol  of— 

"  Let 's     ask    somebody," 
interrupted  Cicely. 
"  Eight-o !  "  said  I. 

#  *  *  * 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know, 
Ellen,"  I  enquired  of  the 
Cook,  "  why  April  23rd  is 
called  Primrose  Day  ?  " 

"I  don't  for  certain,  Sir," 
she  replied,  "but  I  have  heard 
it 's  something  to  do  with 
SHAKSPEABE." 

"  There  may  be  something 
in  this,"  I  remarked  to  Cicely. 
"  SHAKSPEARE,  you  remem- 
ber, wrote  those  beautiful 

lines : 

Primroses, 

That  come  before  the  swallow 
dares  .  .  ." 

"Daffodils!  Daffodils!" 
cried  Cicely. 

Alice  would  know,  I  expect,"  added 
Cook,  "  because  she 's  a  member  of  the 
Primrose  League." 

"  Of  course  !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  What 
duffers !  We  might  have  guessed  it  was 
connected  with  the  Primrose  League." 

"  I  understand,  Alice,"  I  said,  when 
we  had  found  her,  "  that  you  are  a 
member  of  the  Primrose  League.  That 
being  so,  you  can  probably  tell  us  why 
April  23rd  is  called  Primrose  Day  ? '.' 


AruiL  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


327 


/ 


HOLDING    ON    FOR    A    RISE.   • 

(SCENE— A  Point-to-point  Meeting  wJiere  the  supply  of  race-cards  has  run  out.) 
Sportsman,  "LoOK  HEBE,  I'LL  GIVE  YOU  TWO  SHILLINGS  FOB  THAT  CABD." 
Rustic  (vaguely  inspired  by  wliat  Jus  has  heard  about  Marconis).  "NAA  FEAB!     I  WUN'T  SELL  UN  I 

BOUND  ABOUT  ONE   O'CLOCK,   AND  IP   'E 's  WUTH  TWO   BOB  NOW,   WOT  !LL   'E   BE  WUTH  TO-MOBBEB?" 


I   BOCGHT   UN    FUB    ZIXPEXCF. 


"  I  don't  really  know,  Sir,"  answered 
Alice,  "  but  I  think  it 's  something  to  do 
with  Lord  SALISBURY." 

"  I  feel  sure  that 's  wrong,"  said  I. 
"  We  are  disappointed  in  you,  Alice." 

"  Well,  mother  joined  me  into  the 
Primrose  League  when  I  was  a  child," 
said  Alice,  "  and  I  don't  know  much 
about  it  except  that  it 's  got  to  do  with 
being  a  Conservative." 

"  As  it 's  a  political  business,"  put  in 
Cicely,  "  Judson  is  sure  to  know.  He 
knows  all  about  politics." 

We  sought  out  Judson  and  put  the 
question  to  him.  He  scraped  his  spade 
thoughtfully. 

"I'm  not  quite  sure,  Sir,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  think  April  23rd  is  the  hanni- 
versary  like  of  the  death  o'  Lord 
BEACONSFIELD  ;  but  it  may  be  his  birth- 
day. The  primrose  was  his  lordship's 
favourite  flower,  so  I  've  heard  say." 

"  I  fancy  that  Judson's  explanation 
is  the  most  authoritative  and  con- 
vincing," I  said  to  Cicely  in  the 
seclusion  of  the  drawing-room.  "  But 
Meggison  is  coming  to  dinner  this 


evening,  and  he's  related  to  a  fellow 
who  was  an  Under-Secretary  in  the 
last  Unionist  Government.  He  '11  know 
for  certain." 

"  Eight-o !  "  said  Cicely. 

***** 

"  I  say,  old  chap,  why  is  April  23rd 
called  Primrose  Day  ?  "  I  enquired  of 
Meggison. 

"  It  isn't,"  said  he. 


HOW    TO    CELEBEATB 

ST.   GEOEGE'S  DAY. 
(Which,  Mr.  Punch  begs  to  inform  his 

millions  of  English  readers,  falls  on 

April  23rd.) 

A  Eoyal  Commission  shall  be  ap- 
pointed to  decide,  once  for  all,  who  the 
Saint  really  was.  Only  pure-blooded 
Englishmen  and  genuine  Cappadocians 
to  constitute  its  membership. 

The  preponderating  Celtic  element 
in  the  Cabinet  shall  retire  at  their  own 
expense  to  their  respective  and  original 
sheilings  and  fastnesses  for  the  day, 
and  give  England  a  rest.  The  CHAN- 


CELLOR OP  THE  EXCHEQUER,  however, 
in  consideration  of  his  surname  and 
comparatively  straitened  means,  shall  be 
allowed  an  excursion  ticket  to  Criccieth. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that,  according  to 
the  latest  returns  available,  all  but  921 
out  of  the  12,862  men  who  recruited 
for  the  Navy  in  1911  were  born  in 
England,  journalists  shall  be  permitted, 
just  for  once,  to  speak  of  the  English 
Navy,  without  calling  down  upon  their 
heads  a  sheaf  of  excited  protests  from 
correspondents  beyond  the  Border. 

The  wearing  of  a  miniature  rose  in 
the  button-hole,  at  any  rate  in  the 
early  morning  and  twilight  hours  of 
St.  George's  Day,  by  those  who  can 
muster  up  sufficient  courage  and 
patriotism,  shall  not  be  construed  as  an 
affront  to  the  cosmopolitan  inhabitants 
of  London  and  West  Ham. 

The  police-court  test,  pro  hac  vice, 
for  those  ardent  spirits  who  may  be 
suspected  of  over-festive  loyalty  to 
their  patron  saint,  shall  be  the  recital 
of  the  well-known  formula  modified, 
namely,  "  English  Constitution." 


323 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAEI. 


23,  1913. 


FRESH    AIR. 

"  WELL,"  said  Francesca,  "  here  we  are  at  last." 
"  I  cannot  deny  it,"  I  said.     "  It  is  dreadfully  truo. 
"  Do  you  want  to  deny  it  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  Francesca,  I  do.     My  whole  soul  yearns  to  deny 
it;  but  in  face  of  what  has  happened  even  my  soul  canno 
manage  it." 

"  And  yet,"  she  said,  "  your  soul  is  a  very  fiery  particle 
too  fiery,  I  should  have  thought,  to  be  snuffed  out  by 
mere  railway  journey  to  the  sea-side." 

"Francesca,"!  said,  "much  is  permitted  to  you,  but 
cannot  allow  you  to  refer  to  that  railway  journey  again." 

"  Pooh,"  she  said,  "  what  was  the  matter  with  it  ?  " 

"How  many  times,"  I  said,  "did  we  have  to  collect  and 
count  the  children  ?  How  many  miles  did  we  have  to  walk 
along  platforms  in  order  to  find  seats  in  compartments  that 
were  already  crammed  ?  Why  were  those  two  respectable 
old  gentlemen  so  angry  when  Frederick  trod  on  all  their 
toes  ?  Why  did  I  have  sandwiches  and  sherry  for  luncheon  ? 
It  is  a  disagreeable  and  an  unusual  variety  of  luncheon. 
Why  am  I  still  covered  with  crumbs  ?  Why  did  we  leave 
our  comfortable  home,  and  why- " 

"  And  why,"  she  said,  "  have  I  married  a  sphinx  ?  If 
you  have  any  more  riddles  in  your  mind  now  's  the  time  to 
get  rid  of  the  lot." 

"Is  this,"  I  said,  "  your  courtesy?  " 

"  No,  it 's  my^common  sense." 

"  Ha,  ha !  "  I  said,  laughing  bitterly. 

"  And,"  she  continued,  "  you  '11  just  have  to  make  the 
best  of  it.  Besides  I  may  as  well  tell  you  at  once  that  you 
will  have  to  sleep  in  the  little  room  that  looks  out  on  the 
back.  We  cannot  arrange  it  in  any  other  way." 

"  I  knew  it,"  I  said.  "  It  has  been  so  whenever  we  have 
all  gone  to  the  seaside  together.  I  have  always  been 
squeezed  into  the  little  room  that  looks  out  on  the  back. 
All  lodgings  at  every  seaside  are  alike  in  this  :  the  father  of 
the  family  is  compelled  to  look  out  on  the  back  while  his 
wife  and  children  gaze  upon  the  sea." 

"I  can  put  Frederick  in  with  you  il 
said. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  think  I  will  do  without  Frederick, 
is  capable  of  waking  at  six  A.M." 

"  He  always  does,"  she  said. 

"  And  he  would  expect  me  to  tell  him  a  story.  I  can  do 
much,  but  I  cannot  tell  a  story  to  a  child  at  six  A.M." 

'  It  would  be  good  for  you  to  try  just  once,"  she  said. 

"I  think  not,"  I  said.  "And,  besides,  it  wouldn't  be  a 
satisfactory  story.  Frederick  wouldn't  like  it.  He  is  getting 
very  particular  about  his  stories.  He  told  me  to-day  he 
was  tired  of  wishing-caps." 

"  You  might  make  it  a  magic  ring  by  way  of  a  change." 

"  We  exhausted  all  the  possibilities  of  a  magic  ring  long 
ago,"  I  said.  "  And  dragons  and  fairy  queens  are  also 
taboo.  No,  on  mature  consideration  I  will 'deny  myself 
the  pleasure  of  having  Frederick  in  my  room.  I  will  leave 
him  to  you." 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  is  like  your  generous  nature.  I  accept 
your  gift." 

"  And  you  must  promise,"  I  said,  "  not  to  throw  Frederick 
m  my  teeth  afterwards.  You  take  him  with  your  eyes 
open.  He  is  a  free  gift,  and  you  must  not  look  him  in  the 
mouth." 

"  I  will  take  Frederick  off  your  hands,"  she  said,  "  and 

expect  nothing  of  you  in  consequence." 

'  But  tell  me,"  I  said,  "  where  are  the  children  ?  " 
"  They  are  upstairs,"  she  said,  "  unpacking.     Do  you  not 

hear  them  ?  " 

"  Are  they  unpacking  my  things?  "  I  said. 


you  if  you  feel  lonely,"  she 
He 


"They  probably  are,"  she  said.  "I  promised  them  that 
as  a  treat." 

"  You  promised  them  that !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  But  this  is 
madness.  How  can  three  girl-children  and  a  boy  unpack 
a  father's  kit-bag  ?  Everything  will  get  mixed  with  every- 
thing else.  My  socks  will  go  astray.  Francesca,  you  do 
not  know,  being  a  woman,  what  a  vagrant  thing  a  sock  is. 
And  my  shirts !  They  will  ruin  the  fronts  of  my  shirts." 

"  Oh,"  she  said  impatiently,  "  what  does  it  matter  at  the 
seaside  ?  Listen,"  she  continued,  as  a  burst  of  merriment 
was  wafted  to  us  from  upstairs ;  "  they  are  playing  with 
your  big  bath-sponge.  Would  you  be  so  heartless  as  to 
interfere  with  their  innocent  pleasure  ?  " 

"  They  will  get  wet  through,"  I  said. 

"Everybody  gets  wet  through  at  the  seaside." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  but  not  with  bath-sponges." 

"  W7ell,"  she  said,  "  if  you  don't  like  it  why  don't  you 
take  them  out  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  I  said.  "  Life  at  the  seaside  is  one  long  series 
of  takings  out." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  that 's  why  the  beach  is  there,  and  the 
piers,  and  the  esplanade,  and  the  boats,  and  the  boatmen  in 
their  blue  guernseys.  And  that 's  why  we  brought  Winkles 
with  us." 

"  I  forgot  Winkles,"  I  said. 

"  Winkles  will  have  to  be  taken  out  on  the  wettest  days. 
Dogs  must  be  exercised  even  when  children  stay  at  home; 
and  you,"  she  said,  "  are  the  one  to  do  it." 
~  "  I  foresee,"  I  said,  "  that  I  shall  get  plenty  of  fresh  air." 

"  Don't  be  so  gloomy  about  it,"  she  said.  "  What  else 
did  you  come  to  the  seaside  for  ?  " 

"  I  thought  I  was  going  to  have  a  rest  and  enjoy  myself." 

"  What  a  strange  idea,"  she  said.  E.  C.  L. 


A  SPEING  VICTIM. 
BARBER,  I  hope  I  find  you  with  a  steady 

And  dexterous  right-hand  to-day.     Eeveal 
The  secrets  of  your  armoury  !     Make  ready 

Your  stoutest  shears,  your  choicest  Sheffield  steel, 
Your  bills  and  cleavers,  and  prepare  to  strip 
This  tufty  herbage  from  my  upper  lip ! 

The  sacrifice  intrigues  you  ?     Doubtless,  Barber, 
You  wonder  at  the  fellness  of  the  swoop ; 

You  think,  perchance,  I  chafe  to  see  it  harbour 
The  beaded  bubbles  of  my  turtle  soup  ? 

Or  else  that  SHE  has  coyly  murmured,  "  Please 

Uproot  it,  dear :  it  makes  me  want  to  sneeze  "  ? 

Perchance  I  hope  (you  artists  know  how  prone  is 

The  heart  of  man  to  idle  self-esteem) 
To  leave  your  chair  a  latter-day  Adonis, 

To  have  my  smile  proclaimed  "  a  perfect  dream  "  ? 
Or  haply  (horrid  thought)  I  mean  to  flit 
From  outraged  Justice  ?     No,  that  isn't  it. 

Behold  in  me  a  victim  of  the  Season 
When  pestilence  is  wafted  on  the  bresze 

Embroiling  us  and  darkening  our  reason. 

Catarrh?     The  influenza?     Worse  than  these. 

Aha,  my  friend,  I  see  you  guess  my  meaning ; 

Yes,  I  have  caught  the  frenzy  of  Spring-cleaning. 

"THE  LIMITATION  OF  CONSECUTIVE  HAZARDS.— 'S.  E.'  writes:— 
Might  I  make  the  suggestion  that  a  hint  be  taken  from  the  spot 
troke  rule  ?  My  idea  is  that  not  more  than  one  or  two  consecutive 
osmg  hazards  be  allowed  ofi  the  same  ball  into  the  same  pocket.' " 

Times. 

STobody  has  really  seen  billiards  played  until  he  has  watched 
us  making  oar  run  of  one  consecutive  losing  hazard. 


Amu,  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


329 


Landlord  of  Country  Inn.  "Witr.  TE  FLEASE  TO  BE  QUICK  WITH  YEB  BATH,  HUM?    IT'S  FIBE  DBILL  MOESISQ  AND  w*'i 

EAGEB  TO   BE   AT   IT." 


NATUEE    KNOWLEDGE. 

THE  teacher  was  serious-minded  and 
very  conscientious.  The  lesson  was 
"  The  Frog"" — the  protoplasm al  begin- 
nings of  froggie  being  exhibited  within 
a  glass  jarful  of  water,  which  stood 
upon  a  table  before  the  class.  The 
room  was  stuffy  and  the  class  in  a 
state  of  passive  resistance  to  learning — 
all  except  Tommy  Bangs,  aged  seven. 
Tommy,  who  up  to  now  had  never 
learned  anything  if  he  could  possibly 
help  it,  sat  staring  at  the  glass  jar 
with  all  his  soul  in  his  eyes.  Teacher 
looked  at  him  attentively.  Was  this 
a  case  of  the  stupid  scholar  at  last 
coming  into  his  own  subject  and 
developing  genius?  She  resolved  to 
concentrate  upon  Thomas. 

"  You  see  this  mass  of  gelatinous 
substance  full  of  little  black  dots  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  These  black  dots  are  eggs." 

Thomas  looked  incredulous. 
Now,  what  are  they,  Thomas  ?  " 

"Eggs,"  replied  Thomas,  obedient 
though  unbelieving. 

"Correct.  Well,  in  process  of  time 
these  eggs  are— now  what  do  you  think 
happens  to  these  eggs  in  process  of 
time?" 


Uneasy  silence  on  the  part  of 
Thomas. 

"  Come,"  said  Teacher.    "They  are — " 

"  Boiled,"  with  sudden  inspiration. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Teacher  hastily ; 
"  they  are  hatched." 

"Hatched,"  murmured  Thomas 
apologetically. 

"  Yes,  and  out  come  some  queer- 
looking  creatures  with  big  heads  and 
flat  tails.  They  are  called  tadpoles. 
Now  " — very  impressively — "  the  tad- 
pole grows,  little  legs  begin  to  show, 
gradually  the  tail  vanishes,  and  what 
do  you  think  at  last  comes  out  of  the 
water?" 

"  A — a  duck."  Thomas  was  evidently 
unable  to  get  away  from  the  poultry 
farm. 

"Oh  no,  Thomas.  I  will  tell  you. 
A  frog.  Now,  isn't  that  wonderful  ?  " 

Subdued  expressions  of  astonishment 
from  the  class  and  a  deep  sigh  from 
Thomas,  looking  as  if  he  could  ask  for 
more  information  if  he  dared.  Teacher 
turned  to  him  kindly. 

"  You  are  interested,  Thomas  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  That 's  right.  I  shall  cultivate 
your  taste  for  nature  knowledge.  Is 
thei'e  anything  else  you  would  like  me 
to  tell  you  ?  " 


"  Yes,  please,  ma'am." 

"  Then  just  ask,"  said  Teacher,  much 
gratified.  "  Don't  be  afraid.  What  do 
you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"Please,  ma'am,"  said  Thomas,  "I 
want  to  know  how  to  do  a  lion." 


The  World's  Workers. 
"Wanted  Another,    to    work    round   the 
coast  with  a  telescope." — Advt.  in  "  Star." 


"  A  remarkable  feature  is  that  this  affair  is 
about  the  fifth  unsuccessful  attempt  against 
Li-Yuan-Hung,  proving  that  something  is 
radically  wrong." — Daily  Telegraph, 

If  a  meeting  can  be  arranged,  our  con- 
temporary is  prepared  to  explain  this 
sentence  to  Li- YUAN-HUNG. 


From  a  little  book  of  recipes : — 

"RECIPES. 

Cnt\t  of  bread  soaked  in  '  Glaxo.' 
•Glaxo.' 
Hard  Crust. 
Dip  crust  in  '  Glaxo  '  and  give  child  to  suck." 

We  shall  have  to  put  our  French  chef 
on  to  this. 

"The  now  spring  styles  are  so  varied  that 
no  one  can  fail  to  obtain  a  hat  that  will  not 
suit  them." — Rochdale  Observer. 

We  have  noticed  several  about. 


330 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON_CHARIVARL 


[Amir,  23,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

MB.  FOBBES-EOBERTSON'S  FAREWELL 

SEASON. 

IT  is  established  that  JULIUS  CJESAR, 
besides  being  a  bit  of  a  soldier,  wrote 
elementary  Latin  prose  for  the  use  of 
preparatory  schools.  But  neither  of 
these  .accomplishments  could  ever  make 
him  an  adequate  mouthpiece,  on  the 
stage,  for  .the  philosophy  of  Mr. 
BERNARD  SHAW;  and  the  author  of 
Ccesdr  and  Cleopatra,  with  his  notorious 
flair  for  the  right  medium,  recognised 
the  Triumvir's  limitations.  Later,  on 
looking  through  his  original  version,  he 
seems  to  have  felt  that  this  defect  in 
his  protagonist  was  a  source  of  weak- 
ness in  the  play ;  that,  though  Brittanus 
threw  .off  a  certain  amount  of  easy 
satire  on  the  future  inhabitants  of  the 
barbarous  island  that  he  came  from, 
there -was  not  enough  of  SHAW  in  it. 
So  he  has  introduced  a  prologue  (pur- 
porting to  be  the  utterance  of  the  god 
Ea)  which  is  a  sort  of  sketchy  upper- 
fifth-form  lesson  on  the  history  of  the 
period,  punctuated  with  ridicule  of  the 
Philistines  on  the  other  side  of  the 
footlights.  Only  gods  and  school- 
masters can  do  these  things,  knowing 
full  well  that  the  rules  won't  let  you 
answer  them  back. 

It  is  the  old  posture.    Mr.  SHAW  still 
stands  on  his  head  as  depicted  by  Mr. 
MAXBEEBBOHM  on  revisiting  the  haunts 
of  his  early  manhood.    For  the  rest,  the 
play  remains  an  audacious  medley  of 
mock-historical  comedy,  farce,  panto- 
mime and  melodrama.    There  is  the  old 
lighthearted  disregard  of  facts — as  in 
Ccesar's  paternal  and  ascetic  attitude 
to  the  girl  Cleopatra ;  there  is  the  old 
blend  of  laughter  and  blood — as  in  the 
horror,  which  is  not  tragedy,  of 
Ftatateeta's  death,  when,  after 
affording  an  interminable  lot  of 
fun  to  the  author  (if  not  to  us) 
in  the  matter  of  her  name,  she 
has  her  throat  slit  before  CcBsar 
lias  got  the  hang  of  it.     All  the 
same  the  play  keeps  the  freshness 
of    its    frivolous   improbability, 
though  I  doubt  if  anybody  but 
Mr.    FORBES -EoBERTSQN — and 
he  only  on  a  farewell  course — 
could   have  filled   Di'ury   Lane 
for  so  slight  a  spectacle. 

Though  he  made  no  attempt 
to  disguise  his  sad  lack  of  bald- 
ness (non  Ccesaris  ilia  ccesaries) 
he  somehow  always  looked  the 
part.  His  vein  is,  of  course,  a 
high  seriousness,  but  he  brought 
a  very  light  touch  to  the  treat- 
ment of  Ccesar's  mood  of  holiday 

excursion.     Miss    GERTBUDE 
-T-,  ,  .     ,,  ,.  Mmsie  (Miss   GERTBUDE   ELLIOTT)    to 

ELLIOTT  was  best  m  the  earlier  FORBES-ROBERTSON).  "Dickie,   I 'm    the 
part,  where  Cleopatra  is  just  a   haven't  even  changed  my  hair  1  " 


scared  little  flapper;  when  the  savage 
in  her  came  out,  Miss  ELLIOTT  had  no 
more  use  for  her  unstated  girlishness. 
Of  the  minor  characters,  Mr!  IAN 
EOHEBTSON  was  pleasantly  solemn  in 
the  part  of  Brittanus;  Mr.  COOKSON 
gave  a  note  of  distinction  to  the  royal 
tutor,  Theodotus;  Mr.  SCOTT-GATTY 


The  great  god  Bernard  Ra-ra  Shaw. 

was  a  brave  and  buoyant  Apoltodorus ; 
and  Mr.  LACY  as  the  ranker  Rufio  was 
at  least  robust.  I  should  have  liked 
a  lot  more  of  little  Ptolemy,  though 
I  missed  Master  TONGE  in  that  de- 
lightful prompted  speech  of  the  boy- 
king.  Over  the  others,  as  over  the 
scenery,  I  draw  a  veil  of  genial  reticence. 
The  Light  that  Failed  serves  the 
purpose — if  no  other — of  proving  Mr. 
FoEBES-EoBERTSON's  versatility.  Sober 


or  drunk,  seeing  or  blind,  in  love  or  in 
despair,  he  was  equally  persuasive.  Of 
:ourse,  his  chances  were  a  little  too 
easy.  Drunkenness  is  always  popular 
on  the  English  stage,  and  blindness 
never  misses  its  appeal. 

It  was  curious  how,  in  the  super- 
fluous prologue  where  Dick  has  his 
preliminary  spell  of  blindness,  the  band- 
age on  his  eyes  and  the  covering  on 
his  crown  seemed  to  make  Mr.  FORBES- 
EOBEETSON'S  golden  voice  unrecog- 
nisable. It  seems  as  if  the  magic  of 
his  tones  is  dependent  upon  an  exposure 
of  the  top  half  of  his  head. 

The  tragic  ending  of  Mr.  KIPLING'S 
original  version  has  been  modified.  It 
is  no  longer  The  Light  that  Failed,  it 
is  The  Darkness  that  Succeeded,  or 
rather  it  would  have  been  if  Maisie's 
love  for  him  had  come  about  through 
Dick's  loss  of  sight.  But  apparently 
her  change  of  heart  occurs  before  she 
learns  of  his  tragedy ;  and  we  are  led 
vaguely  to  suspect  that  she  was  pro- 
posing in  any  case  to  fall  back  upon 
love  as  a  solace  for  her  art  that  had 
failed.  Whatever  her  motive,  poor  Dick 
was  happily  too  blind  to  see  through  it. 

Miss  GERTBUDE  ELLIOTT  made  the 
best  of  the  rather  unsympathetic  part 
of  Maisic.  But  the  strongest  support 
came  from  Mr.  AUBREY  SMITH  as 
Torpenhow.  His  solid  presence,  as 
always,  was  a  steady  source  of  confi- 
dence. Miss  OLIVE  EICHAEDSON  as 
Bessie  was  sufficiently  vicious ;  the 
trouble  was  to  discover  the  charm  in 
her  that  attracted  Torpenhoiv.  Miss 
ADELINE  BOUBNE  did  more  than  justice 
to  her  anonymous  description  as  The 
Bed-haired  Girl.  The  vermilion  of  her 
wig  would  have  abashed  a  flamingo. 


Mr. 


Dick  Ileldar   (Mr. 
same    ilaisie  I       I 


SCOTT-GATTY  as  Cassavetti  once 
more  shone  among  an  indifferent 
lot  of  supernumeraries,  of  whom 
the  stodgy  and  sonorous  Mr. 
PERCY  EHODES  (Nilghai)  was 
perhaps  the  least  excusable. 

I  understand  that  Signer 
PUCCINI  came  all  the  way  from 
Pisa  to  see  Mr.  FOHBES-EOBERT- 
SON  in  this  play,  the  actor's 
engagements  making  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  study  the 
musician's  convenience  anc 
appear  in  Tuscany.  If  the 
composer  of  La  Fanciulla  de> 
West  shared  the  feelings  of  the 
popular  element  in  Mr.  FOEBES 
EOBERTSON'S  audience  he  was 
well  rewarded  for  his  exertions 
Dare  we  hope  that  in  The  Ligh 
that  Failed  he  will  find  the 
stuff  for  an  opera  (Eiccanlo  ii 
Eijittot)  and  that  we  shal 
presently  be  whistling  tin 
Italian  for  "  What  Maisie 
Knew  "  ?  0.  S. 


APRIL  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


331 


Sergeant-Instructor  (to  recruit  who  is  struggling  to  unfix  bayonet  long  after  the  movement  is  finished).  "Now  THEN!    WHY  CAX'T 

YOU   DEPRESS  THE   BOLT-STUD  AND  GET  THAT   BLADE   AWAY?"  EeCTUlt.    "  AH  *VE   GOT   A  GAMMY  THOOMB,    SEBOINT."         * 

Sergeant-Instructor.  "GAMMY  THUMB!     THB  BEST  o'  THB  SQUAD  AIN'T  GOT  GAMMY  THUMBS,  HAS  THEY?     You  DON'T  EXPECT 
THB  ABJMY  TO  ALLOW  YOU  LUXURIES  THE  BEST  o'  THB  MEN  AIN'T  GOT,  DO  YOD?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THERE  are  parts  of  Stella  Maris  (JoHN  LANE)  that  show 
the  art  of  Mr.  W.  J.  LOCKE  at  its  very  best — delicate, 
tender,  high-fantastical.  There  are  also  parts  in  which  it 
might  almost  be  classed  with  the  melodrama  of  commerce, 
and  others  that  come  dangerously  near  the  simply  senti- 
mental. Take  him  for  all  in  all,  however,  Mr.  LOCKE  can 
blend  a  mixture  of  romance  and  realism  more  nicely  than 
perhaps  any  other  living  writer ;  and  the  result,  if  unequal, 
is  delightfully  stimulating.  Moreover,  Stella  Maris  has  the 
advantage  of  two  excellent  and  unhackneyed  ideas.  On  the 
one  hand,  Stella  herself,  the  seemingly  hopeless  invalid, 
into  the  dream-life  of  whose  guarded  room  no  idea  of  pain 
or  sorrow  is  allowed  to  penetrate — restore  such  a  being  to 
everyday  life,  plunge  her,  a  woman  in  years,  less  than  a  child 
in  experience,  into  the  battle  of  realities,  and  what  will 
happen  ?  This  is  one,  the  more  beautiful,  of  the  two  motives 
of  the  book.  The  other  concerns  a  man  who,  married  in 
name  only  to  a  human  horror  whose  cruelty  to  a  child- 
servant  has  resulted  in  public  scandal  and  imprisonment, 
himself  adopts  the  victim  in  an  effort  at  reparation.  What 
came  of  this  experiment  of  John  Eisca  with  the  little  drudge 
Unity ;  how  he  and  Walter  Herold,  the  actor,  both  loved 
and  tended  Stella,  at  first  with  the  passionate  pity  of  strong 
men  towards  a  suffering  child,  later  with  another  kind  of 
passion,  and  which  of  them  won  her  in  the  end,  all  this 
you  shall  find  out.  On  the  last  point  I  was  myself  in 
doubt — a  rare  experience — up  to  the  very  page  that  settled 
the  matter.  On  the  whole,  a  charming  and  moving  story, 


told  in  a  style  that  at  times  rises  to  actual  beauty.     I  make 
Mr.  LOCKE  my  felicitations  and  thanks. 

Miss  MARGARET  WATSON  purports  to  write  of  village  life, 
but  if  she  should  cast  her  mind  back  over  the  events  of  her 
story,  His  Dear  Desire  (SMITH,  ELDER),  she  must  herself  be 
astounded  at  their  number  and  magnitude.  Most  of  the 
villagers  were  at  one  time  or  another  on  the  verge  of  sudden 
death,  and  one  at  least  of  them  succumbed  to  it.  Another 
was  the  victim  of  violent  dipsomania ;  a  third  was  guilty  of, 
among  other  things,  embezzlement;  a  fourth  was  appre- 
hended for  a  supposed  murder,  and  of  the  others  those 
who  were  not  put  in  jeopardy  by  the  fire  at  the  Hall 
were  involved  in  the  financial  crash  of  a  local  Building 
Society.  Hardly  a  day  passed  in  Clayford  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood but  an  incident  occurred  which  would  have 
engaged  the  best  part  of  the  attention  of  the  British  press, 
and  yet  the  inhabitants  were  with  it  all  the  most  simple 
and  unsophisticated  people  in  the  world.  These  weighty 
affairs,  mark  you,  were  but  side  issues,  briefly  noticed  and 
contrived  merely  to  demonstrate  character  ;  the  central  plot 
was  quite  other  and  consisted  in  the  love  of  Emily  Dormer  for 
the  dipsomaniac,  the  passion  of  the  pseudo-murderer  for  his 
mill,  and  the  pervading  and  prevailing  humanity  of  Panon 
Power,  matters  much  less  stupendous  but  much  more  con- 
vincing. The  truth  is  that  Miss  WATSON  has  done  excellently 
with  her  village  but  gone  all  wrong  with  its  life.  She  has 
done  what  so  many  amateurs,  if  I  may  use  that  expression 
without  offence,  do ;  she  has  studied  life  as  it  is,  and  life 
as  it  is  depicted  in  the  lower  grade  novel,  contemporaneously, 
and  has  got  the  two  mixed  up.  This  has  proved  unfortunate 


332 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  23,  1913. 


I  liave  been  unable  to  dis- 


but  not,  I  am  glad  to  say,  fatal.  If  the  constant  recurrence 
of  the  incredible  tends  to  destroy  the  charm  of  a  very  human 
book,  it  does  not  wholly  succeed.  Some  country  folk  emerge 
from  the  turmoil  unscathed  and  delightfully  unspoilt. 

I  am  positively  appalled  by  the  number  of  young  men 
who   appear  to   be   going   about  in  contemporary  fiction 
paying  what  seem  honourable  addresses  to  heroines,  only 
for  these  distressed  damsel?  to  discover  in  the  next  chapter 
the  existence  of   insane  wives.     The   thing   seems   to   be 
becoming  an  obsession  with  our  novelists ;  and  the  latest 
victim  is  Miss  ISABEL  SMITH,  whoso  Nevertheless  (ALSTON 
RIVERS)  tells  it  all  over  again;  not  badly,  but  hardly  well 
enough  to  invest  so  worn  a  theme  with  any  special  interest. 
By  the  way,  why  Nevertheless, 
cover;  the  tale  might  just 
as   well   have   been    called 
But,  or  Well,  well,  or  (and 
with   some    excuse   in   the 
behaviour    of    the    chief 
characters)  Tut-tut.     These 
protagonists  are  Sara  Gale 
and    one     Martc!,    fellow- 
inmates  of  an  old  suburban 
mansion  turned  into  a  kind 
of  boarding-house.   Because 
Martel  had  a  clear-cut  pro- 
file,   no    manners,    and    a 
general  way  of  wiping  the 
ground     with    his     female 
society,     Sara    (who    was 
evidently  a  disciple  of  Jane 
Eyre)  loved  him.      So  she 
really  need  not  have  been 
so  much  astonished  to  hear 
of  the  lunatic  wife,  as  afore- 
said.    But  she  was.     Then  | 
of  course  Martel  asked  her 
not    to.   mind   about   man- 
made  laws,  and  Sara,,  after 
holding  out  till  almost  the 
end  of  the  book  (even  en- 
during  the   horrors  of    an 
evangelical  boarding-house 
at  Eastbourne,  described  by 
the  author  with  much  zest) 
surrendered    and    went    to 
Martel 's    rooms  —  only    to 
find  him  reading  a  wire  from 
the  lunatic  asylum  to  say 


make  your  flesh  creep,"  I  felt  that  I  understood  how  white 
men  can  die  of  too  much  tropical  Asia,  and  how  it  is  not 
only  natives  that  sometimes  are  driven  to  run  amok  and  to 
cast  off  the  shackles  of  officialdom  and  civilization,  and 
become  just  their  revengeful,  cruel,  savage,  primitive  selves. 
But  that  is  only  because  they  are  affected  by  their  environ- 
ment, which  is  gradually  being  changed  for  the  better  by 
the  self-sacrifice  of  these  very  men.  Some  day  the  bad  old 
past  will  have  gone  altogether,  to  the  great  advantage  of 
all  concerned.  And  meanwhile  it  has  given  us  Malayan 
Monochromes. 


Although  I  have  not  read  a  vast  majority  of  the  fifty  or 
sixty  books  that  stand  to  the  credit  of  "  KATHARINE  TYNAN," 
I  make  bold  to  say  that  none  of  them  can  be  more  fragrant 

than  Mrs.  Pratt  of  Paradise 
Farm  (SMITH,  ELDER).  The 
farm  possessed  a  garden  of 
the  lavender  -  sweet  -  pea  - 
rosemary  kind,  a  splendid 
view,  old  furniture— in  fact, 
everything  that  mortal  man 
could  want,  except  a  bath- 
room. And  then — crown- 
ing- point  of  all — it  con- 
tained Mrs.  Pratt  herself. 
It  is  true  that  this  jewel  of 
a  woman  had  been  accused 
of  poisoning  her  husband, 
but  you  had  only  to  look  at 
her  to  know  that  she  could 
never  have  killed  a  mouse. 
Apparently  her  neighbours 
had.  refrained  from  looking 
,at  her,  for  they  deemed  that 
she  had  left  the  court  with 
a  considerable  stain  upon 


:  her .  character.  So  poor 
Mrs.  Pratt  sufferad  acutely 
until  a  young  man  and  his 
wife  suddenly  turned  up 
and  asked  for  lodgings  ;  and 
afterwards  she  loved,  this 
mysterious  couple  so  much 
that  she  did  not  even  worry 
about  unpaid  bills.  I  am 

,  grateful  to  Mrs.  HIXKSON 
ABSCONDING  CASHIER  HAS  THE  MISFOBTUNE  TO  EXCOUXTEB  ANOTHER  for  ^V'l?  UP  the  cudgels 


LIGHTNING   STRIKE — "  DOWN  RAZORS. 


what  you  will  have  already  guessed.  I  feel  that  the  moral 
is  a  little  ambiguous,  but  at  least  the  story  is  enabled  to 
end  as  such  things  should.  I  wish  Miss. SMITH  had  found 
a  better  employment  for  her  obvious  gift  of  character- 
drawing. 


My  salaams  to  Sir  HUGH  CLIFFORD.  He.has  lived  a  good 
part  of  his  life  in  the  Straits  Settlements,  and  knows  a  thing 
or  two  about  them.  As  a  writer  he  has  the  true  "  Maga  " 
touch,  which  is  often,  I  think,  at  its  strongest  when  it 
draws,  for  us  stay-at-homes,  the  lives  and  thoughts  of  the 
dark-skinned  races  at  the  outposts  of  the  Empire.  In  his 
Malayan  Monochromes  (JOHN  MURRAY)  the  shadows  are  as 
dark  as  REMBKANDT  would  have  painted  them,  as  dense  as 
the  impenetrable  forests  of  the  Peninsula.  For  his  high 
lights  he  uses  only  the  warm  red  of  blood,  that  turns  black 
almost  as  soon  as  it  is  shed,  whether  it  has  flowed  in 
Malayan  or  English  veins.  As  I  read  his  stories,  es- 
pecially fascinating  when,  like  the  Fat  Boy,  they  "  wants  to 


on  behalf  of  a  class  that 
—  is  too  often  derided  and 
am  afraid  that  landladies  in 


scoffed  at  in  fiction ;  but  I 
general  will  not  share  my  gratitude.  It  would  be  an 
appalling  misfortune  for  them  if  Mrs.  Pratt  should  bo  cast 
in  their  teeth  when  they  present  their  overdue  accounts. 


Cookery  Note.     ' 

Sir  RALPH  PAYNE-GALLWEY'S  book,  "  High  Pheasants 
in  Theory  and  Practice,"  is  announced  for  publication! 
For  eating  purposes  we  prefer  them  in  theory. 


From  a  letter  to  The  Barbados  Advocate  :— 
"  Roads  constructed  of  Tarvia  are  not  subject  to  the  dust  nuisance 
caused  to  pedestrians  over  which  motor  cars  run." 

From  our  new  Barbados  romance  :  "  '  Confound  the  dust,' 
said  Clarence,  as  he  wiped  a  24-30  Panthard  off  his  chest 
and  rose  to  his  feet.  'That's  the  third  car  that  has  been 
over  me  to-day.  At  this  rate  my  collar  will  be  ruined  by 
Saturday.' " 


AI-IUL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


333 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  new  Navy  airship  from  Franco  ing  a  bunch  of  bananas  from  Jamaica 

has   been   arriving  in  sections,   which  the   other   day,  ho  was  startled   by  a 

are  now  being  fitted  together  at  Earn-  snake  three  feet  long  darting  from  the 

borough.      Tliis    is   a   reversal   of   our  fruit.    "  The  reptile  was  captured,"  the 

policy  in  regard  to  our  previous  airship,  account  tells   us,    "and  is  being  pre- 

whic'h,  it  will  bo  remembered,  arrived ;  served."     After  this  we  shall  eat  our 


While   an   employee    of    a    firm   of 

wholesale  fruiterers  at  Cardiff  was  open- 1  HOME  THOUGHTS  OF  ABROAD. 

["On  his  back  in  a  gondola,  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth  as  usual,  gazing  skywards." — 1'iiiero.] 

WITH  all  respect  to  old  B.  B. 

My  own  especial  springtime  prayer 
Is,  "  Oh,  to  be  in  Italy 


hero   complete,  but  was 
resolved  into  pieces. 


subsequently 


banana  preserves  with  caution. 
*  * 


We  bear  that  the  real  reason  why 

Mr.  LAMBERT,  for  the  Admiralty,  has  the  price  of  The  Times  is  being  reducad 
assured  a  questioner  that  adequate  to  twopence  is  to  enable  the  threepenny 
measures  will  be  taken  to  protect  our!  public  to  take  in  The  Daily  Mail  and 
dockyards  and  arsenals  from  aerial  The  Daily  Mirror  as  well. 


attack.     We  understand  that  awnings 

have  already  been  commissioned. 
&  # 

The  Nancy  incident  has  been  settled 
satisfactorily.      Various   local   officials 
have  been  reprimanded, 
and  Princess  VICTORIA 
LTISE'S  dress  is  to  be 
made   from  a  Paris 
model.       ,..  ... 

Some  details  have 
boon  published  of  our 
new  Cunarder.  She  is, 
wo  are  told,  901  feet 
long,  and  97  feet  broad. 
This  means  that  both 
the  tallest  man  and  the 
fat  lest  man  will  be  able 
to  lie  down  without 
being  inconveniently 
cramped.  , 

.,,      ,,. 

=:-. 

A  Bill  has  been  in- 
troduced into  the  House 
to  make  the  giving  of 
characters  to  employees 
compulsory.  In  the 
view  of  some  of  the 
Labour  Members,  how- 
ever, the  proposed 
measure  does  not  go  far  enough,  as  it 
does  riot  insist  that  the  characters  must 
be  good  ones.  #  + 

Poor  Mr.  LLOYD  GEOEGE  !  The  Oppo- 
sition papers  were  just  as  sniffy  at 
his  promise  of  no  further  taxes  as  if 
he  had  imposed  a  number  of  fresh  ones. 
"  There 's  no  pleasing  "em,"  he  says. 

A  new  scheme  by  which  insured 
persons  may  obtain  medical  benefits 
while  on  holiday  has  been  arranged 
by  the  Insurance  Commissioners.  So 
nobody  now  need  fear  that  his  holiday 
may  be  spoilt  by  his  having  to  keep 

V 

The  London  County  Council  has 
decided  to  purchase  a  dictating  machine 
at  a  cost  of  £52.  This  compares 
favourably  with  the  price  the  Govern- 
ment pays  for  its  dictator. 


The  Grand  Ducal  Council  of  Meck- 
lenberg  has  passed  a  Bill  imposing  a 
twenty-five  per  cent,  increase  of  taxes 
on  all  bachelors  above  the  age  of  thirty. 


Waiter.  "WHAT  CAN  I  GET  YOU,  SIB?" 

The  Epicure.  "  OH,  I  SUPPOSE  I  'LL  HAVE  ONE  OP  YOUP.  GHASTLY  DINNERS  ! ' 


This  should  be  something  of  an  answer 
to  those  women  who  declare  that  their 
interests  are  neglected  because  they  do 
not  possess  a  vote. 

*  * 

£ 

The  proposal  of  Mr.  Justice  BANKES 
that  malignant  Suffragettes  shall  be 
sent  on  a  voyage  round  the  world  has 
fallen  through  in  consequence  of  strong 
representations  by  the  world. 

Two  opinions  of  Venus  at  Covent 
Garden — showing  how  difficult  it  is  to 
satisfy  everybody : — 

"  She  wore  what  was  for  a  Wagner  opera  an 
almost  daring  dress  of  thin  gauzy  material  with 
a  slit  from  the  left  ankle." — Daily  Mirror. 

' '  Though  no  one  would  advocate  too  realistic 
a  costume  for  Venus,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
make  the  goddess  look  like  an  abbess." 

Daily  News, 

We  shall  hope  to  meet  an  abbess  one  of 
these  days. 


In  Venice— now  that  April 's  there  1 " 

To  hear  the  hollow-sounding  cry 

The  swart  barcaiiiolo  calls 
At  sudden  corners,  gliding  by 

The  old  wistaria-trailing  walls ! 

'    .  4 

With  Federico  rowing  stroke, 
And  Carlo  chipping  in  at  bovr, 

And  I,  beneath  tobacco  smoke, 
Lying  at  ease — just  anyhow. 

Dear  little  rios,  crooked,  quaint, 
By  little  calle  bridges  spanned ! 

Dear  crumbling  niches 
where  some  Saint, 
Some  long-neglected 
Virgin,  stand  1 

Josurum  lace,  Murano's 

glass 
My  pilgrim  spirit 

lightly  spurns, 
And  so  the  saying  shall 

not  pass 

That  "  Venicospends 
what    London 
earns." 


Hero  is  a  vista  opening 

out, 
And  here's  the  Grand 

Canal  at  last. 
Carlo  will  show  the 

sights,  no  doubt, 
As  "  past   we   glide, 
and   past,    and 
past." 

Ho   names   the  things 
one  always  sees : 


"  Ecco,  Signor  !  Eialto — si  !'9' 

Ah,  mention  every  palace,  please ; 

Go  on,  old  chap ;  moslratemi — 

Mostratemi  the  one  I  love — 
I  think  I  see  it,  gliding  by — 

Where  BOBEKT  BROWNING  (see  above), 
0  fortunatum,  chose  to  die  I 


"  Wholesale    pill-box    outrages     were    dis- 
covered in  Glasgow  early  this  afternoon." 

Bristol  Evening  News. 
Our  best  Beauchamp  has  been  abducted. 


1 '  The  servicos  o£  Mr.  Griesson  Landscape 
Gardner,  of  Agra,  have  been  placed  at  the 
disposal  of  the  Chief  Commissioner  of  Delhi." 

Statesman. 

Our    congratulations    to    Mr.    G.    L. 
Gardner.     He  does  credit  to  the  family. 


"  Possessing  a  speed  of  23  knots,  the 
Aquitania  will  have  4,250  boats,  to  accom- 
modate passengers  and  crew." — Lloyd's  News. 

"  One  man,  one  boat  "  at  last  t 


334 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  30,  1913. 


BACHELOR    CHAMBERS. 

(By  one  in  search  of  the  perfect  hermitage.) 
MY  tastes  are  modest  and  my  needs  are  small  :— 

Three  bright  and  lofty  chambers  (parquet  floor), 

Each  thirty  feet  or  so  by  twenty-four, 
With  bathroom  (entered  from  an  airy  hall) 

Where  hot  and  cold  habitually  run  ; 

And  such  a  set  of  aspects  that  the  sun 
Laves  me  in  light  the  whole  day  long.  That 's  all. 

They  must  be  central— somewhere  like  Pall  Mall ; 

In  touch  with  London's  throbbing  heart,  or  hub, 

And  fairly  near  the  Athensoum  Club 
And  restaurants ;  yet  silent  as  a  well, 

For  here  no  taxi-hooters  must  intnoxto 

To  jar  upon  the  meditative  mood 
Or  operate  against  the  Muse's^pell. 

For  service — just  one  handmaid,  nice  and  neat ; 
A  valet,  soft  of  foot ;  a  chef  of  wits 
For  homely  dinners  based  upon  the  Eitz  ; 

And,  at  his  post  abutting  on  the  street, 
A  liveried  page  to  brush  me  for  the  Park, 
Vigilant  of  my  TJvants,  yet  slow  to  mark 

What  ladies  most  affect  my  fair  retreat. 

The  outlook  (need  I  add  ?)  should  be  on  trees; 

And  for  inclusive  rent  I  'd  'gladly  pay . 

Full  Garden  City  prices.  I  should  say 
There  must  be  many  men  with  tastes  like  these 

All  round  St,  James's — men  without  a  wife 

And  wedded  solely  to  the  Simple  Life ; 
And  yet  the  agents  find  me  hard  to  please !  O.  S. 


THE    BURNING    QUESTION.     ..  • 
SHOULD    smoking    be    allowed    in    the    auditorium    of 
theatres  ?     That  is  the  question  which  is  agitating  London, 
Sir  ARTHUR  WING  PINEEO  and  Mr.  SHAW. 

Sir  SIDNEY  LEE  writes :  Sir  ARTHUR  PINERO'S  suggestion 
entails  merely  a  return  to  a  fine  old-  custom.  Smoking  in 
theatres,  like 'Polar  exploration,  was  a  common  Elizabethan 
practice.  Personally  I  am  with  SHAKSPEARE  in  preferring 
the  aroma  of  tobacco  to  the  perfume  of  asphyxiated  flowers 
which  generally  fills  the  air  of  the  stalls.  As  the  Swan 
said,  '"Lilies  that  fester  smell  far  worse  than  weeds." 

Mr.  HAMMEHSTEIN  writes :  I  am  convinced  that  my  failure 
to  run  opera  in  London  was  due  to  my  omission  to  supply 
tobacco  in  the  auditorium.  If  I  had  'my  time  over  again 
and  attempted  once  more  to  popularise  good  music  I  should 
inscribe  above  the  proscenium  the  "Virgilian  motto,  Ludere 
calamo  agresti  (which,  I  am  told,  may  be  translated,  "  To 
amuse  oneself  with  the  rustic  pipe"),  and  I  would  present 
every  member  of  my  audience  with  a  high-class  Clay  (a 
Churchwarden,  not  a  Henry). 

Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW  writes :  I  am  strongly  in  favour  of 
smoking  in  theatres.  I  recently  implored  my  audience 
not  to  laugh  at  me,  and  a  pipe  or  a  cigar  between  their 
lips  would  probably  stop  their  hilarity  far  more  effectually 
than  anything  I  could  say. 

Mr.  GORDON  CRAIG  writes :  I  am  quite  indifferent  on  thi 
subject.      Nothing    that    could    happen   in   any   ordinary- 
theatre  nowadays  could  possibly  have  a  deteriorating  effect 
on  the  Drama. 

Dr.  SALEEBY  writes :  The  ideal  conditions  for  smoking 
are  exactly  those  which  obtain  in  the  modern  theatre.  The 
body  should  be  at  ease  and  the  mind  at  rest.  Any  intellectual 


jffort  at  once  diverts  the  nicotinous  juices  from  their 
mission  (which  in  these  ideal  circumstances  they  accomplish) 
of  correcting  the  tendency  of  the  hypercutaneous  corpuscles 
;owards  excessive  excoriation. 

Mr.  P.  A.  VAILE  writes :  The  only  objection  I  have  to 
smoking  in  theatres  or  elsewhere  is  that  not  one  man  in 
a  hundred  and  not  one  woman  in  a  thousand  knows  how 
io  do  it.  From  his  earliest  childhood  the  Englishman  is 
taught  to  smoke  on  principles  which  are  scientifically 
unsound.  In  addressing  the  pipe,  for  instance,  the  pressure 
for  the  in-draught  should  be  applied  upwards  from  the 
chin,  and  that  for  the  out-draught  downwards  from  the 
nose,  the  head  being  kept  rigid  and  the  neck  being  used  as 
a  pivot  to  counteract  ..op-spin.  In  practioo  all  professional 
smokers  do  this,  but  they  are  unaware  of  it,  and  in 
teaching  they  advise  exactly  the  opposite.  Messrs. 
Glamon  and  Suckstein  (who,  by  the  way,  are  strong 
supporters  of  smoking  in  theatres)  recently  tested  this 
under  my  direction  with  a  specially  devised  quick-firing 
pneumatic  hookah  fitted  with  ball-bearings. 

Mrs.  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX  distils  the  essence  of  sanity 
in  the  following  illuminating  quatrain  : — 

The  man  who  cannot  concentrate  his  mind 
Upon  the  dramas  of  the  BARD  OF  AVON 

Without  reliance  upon  Nicotine,  you  '11  find 
Is  probably  an  intellectual  craven. 

LITTLE  TICH  says:  I  am  all  in  favour  of  people  smoking 
so  long  as  they  confine  themselves  to  Little  Tichinopolies." 

Mr.  CHIOZZA  MONEY  pronounces  strongly  against  tobacco 
in  theatres  on  economic  grounds.  The  money  wasted  on 
cigarettes  alone  by  the  youth  of  the  country  would,  he 
maintains,  be  sufficient  to  defray  the  additional  cost  of  iixing 
the  starting  age  of  old  age  pensions  at  65  instead  of  70. 

Mr.  MASTERMAN,  on  the  other  hand,  has  the  greatest 
belief  in  tobacco  as  promoting  equanimity  and  diffusing 
an  atmosphere  of  placid  contentment  so  desirable  in  an 
audience.  He  continues,  "I  do  not  think  lam  violating 
any  pledge  of  secrecy  when  I  say  that,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  demands  of  National  Defence,  the  CHANCELLOR  OF  THE 
EXCHEQUER  would  have  made  provision  in  his  Budget  for 
the  supplying  of  free  cigarettes  to  all  occupants  of  the  pit 
and  gallery  in  our  theatres." 

Mr.  ALFRED  AUSTIN  writes-:  I  can  endure  tobacco  in 
Veronica's  green-house,  but  not  in  the  theatre.  As  a  great 
poet  remarks : — 

"  It  is  the  most  malevolent  of  deeds 
To  choke  fine  flowers  of  speech  with  noxious  weeds." 

Mr.  J.  M.  BAHRIE  :  I  express  no  gpinion  beyond  this— 
that  if  smoking  is  permitted  the  tobacco  must  be  the  right 
brand.  You  know  quite  well  which  it  is. 

Mr.  ALFRED  BUTT  :  I  like  to  see  the  audience  in  full  blast 
when  PAVLOVA  dances,  but  it  would  give  me  little  pleasure 
to  witness  a  similarly  contented  body  of  persons  at  a  musical 
comedy. 

Psychic  communication  with  certain  of  the  illustrious 
dead  having  been  set  up — we  will  not  say  how,  but  possibly 
through  the  agency  of  the  Elysian  Marconi  Company 
(shares  not  yet  on  the  market) — the  following  opinions  on 
the  great  questions  have  been  elicited: — 

Sir  WALTER  KAL^IGH  :  The  notion  takes  me.  If  it  be 
good  (as  I  hold)  to  drink  tobacco,  then  is  it  good  to  drink 
it  wherever  you  may  be.  Moreover,  there  are,  I  am  told, 
certain  plays  and  players  that  would  be  rendered  more 
decent  if  a  cloud  of  Virginia  intervened  between  ye  spectator 
and  ye  stage. 

THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON  :  Smoke  and  be . 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— APRIL  30,  1913. 


A    FEATHER    FOE    HIS    CAP. 

THE  VICTOR  OF  SKUTARI  (to  Austria).  "  OF    COURSE    YOU    CAN    MAKE    ME    PUT    YOUR    TAIL- 
FEATHER    BACK    AGAIN,   BUT    IT'LL    NEVER    FEEL    QUITE    THE    SAME." 


APRIL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


337 


Motlier.  "WELL,  DEARS,  DID  YOU  MEET  ANYONE  YOU  KNEW?" 

'The  Three  Children  (who  Jtave  just  returned  from  their  morning  wall;).  "Yns;  RUKY  AND  DEREK." 
Mother.  "  WHERE  DID  YOU  MEET  THEM?"  Barbara  (the  youngest).  "  AT  THE  SAME  PLACE  AS  WE  WAS." 


.  THE    BETTER    WAY; 

ou,  WORDS  TO  A  WATCHMONGEB. 
MERLIN,  the  horologe  has  stopped  again ; 
Clasping  his  hands  as  if  about  to  pray, 
But  not,  I  think,  with  any  kind  of  pain, 
At  noon  the  little  fellow  slipped  away. 

Please  take  him  back, 
But  do  not  say,  "  Tut,  tut,  a  nasty  crack  ;  " 

Because  he  had  none.     Of  your  guidance  lorn, 

Faint  for  the  loving  hand  that  soothed  and  nursed, 

His  spirit  to  the  shadowy  realm  was  borne 
The  fifth  time,  I  believe,  since  Jan.  the  first ; 
And  every  swound 

Meant  cash  to  you ;  your  black  arts  brought  him  round. 

That  little  flower-like  face,  that  poor  pale  ghost, 
How  often  have  I  looked  and  yearned  to  him  ; 

Yet  always  ho  preferred  you  as  a  host, 

Always,  deprived  of  you,  his  voice  grew  dim. 
He  pined"  for  you  ; 

Take  him,  and  tell  me,  Merlin,  was  it  "  flu  "  ? 

Toy  with  the  curly  hair-spring  of  my  pet 
And  smile  the  old  smile  that  he  understands, 

And  put  the  dice-box  in  your  eye  and  set 
In  motion  once  again  the  fluttering  hands ; 
Poke  him  about 

And  prod  his  works  up  ;  give  him  malt  and  stout ; 


But  never  more  return  him.     Let  him  be 
Here  at  the  very  hub  of  temporal  power 

And  hearken  to  his  friends  eternally, 

And  know  what  trustful  glances,  hour  by  hour, 
On  you  they  fix, 

Following  your  will  like  sheep — with  strong  calm  ticks. 

And  now  and  then  I  will  return  and  sit 
And  nurse  him  for  a  moment  in  your  shop, 

And  ask  him  how  he  is  and  if  he  's  fit, 

And  turn  the  little  screw  round  at  the  top, 
And  muse  anon 

On  those  wild  times  we  had  in  brave  years  gone. 

And  if  you  like  it,  Merlin,  when  I  come, 

For  food  and  lodging  and  for  oil  and  wraps 
I  will  disburse  to  you  a  trifling  sum  ; 

And,  thank  you,  now  you  mention  it,  perhaps 

You  too  might  make 
Some  gift  to  soothe  my  dole.     Ten  bob  I  '11  take. 

EVOE. 


"  The  bridegroom  spoke  out  manfully  in  promise  of  his  share,  and, 
what  is  especially  noteworthy  in  these  day*  of  rebellious  femininity, 
the  bride  did  not  fumble  with  the  plain  direct  affirmative  '  I  will ' 
when  she  was  asked  whether  she  would  love,  honour,  and — obey." 

Pall  Mall  Gazelle. 

The  writer  must  go  to  another  wedding  and  follow  the 
service  a  little  more  closely ;  then  he  will  understand  why 
the  bride  didn't. 


338 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVAR^ 


[ArniL  30,  1913. 


Seeing  that  the  most  knowledgeable  ,  way  she  crammed   her  first  figure  (0) 

EXCESS    OF    CAUTION.  mail  was  going  to  win,  it  was  unthink-  ]  up  against  the  "£"  was  positively  cruel, 

I  LOVE   Penelope.     Robertson  loves   able  that  I  should  confess  ignorance.   und  there  was  Robertson  scoring  smile 
Penelope.     For  the  moment  I  cannot .  "  Some   say   one   thing,"  I    answered,  ;  after  smile  for  his  advices:  a  smile  for 

think  of  anybody  who«  does  not  love  \  "  and  some  another.     It  is  a  hint  to  ,  the  crossing,  a  smile  for  the  " & 

Penelope,  except  perhaps  the  Vicar;  the  Banker  who  is  going  to  cash  it,  and  !  Co.,"  a  smile  for  the  "Not  Negotiable" 
and  he  only  dislikes  her  professionally, '  I  myself  incline  to  the  view  that  it  <  and  almost  an  embrace  for  the  "  A/G 
because  she  will  not  give  such  assist-  means,  'If  you  haven't  got  the  money  Payee."  At  last  in  despair  I  left  her 
ance  as  ho  thinks  she  ought  to  his  in  stock  write  to  the  makers  at  once  '~iL~  :-  4 
Even  her  father  for  some  more.'  " 


Robertson  was  defeating  her  father 


charitable  enterprises, 
loves   Penelope,   although    he   doesn't 

show  it.     At  this  time,  however,  Pene-   meanwhile,  so  the  latter  diverted  his 
lope   herself   loved   nothing  on 
earth  except   her  new   cheque- 
book, her  very  first. 

After  dinner,  we  three  men 
hurried  through  with  our  to- 
bacco and  gathered  in  the 
drawingn-oom -for  the  Opening 
Ceremony.  Penelope  provided 
herself  with  a  new  nib  and  a 
piece  of  virgin  blotting-paper 
and  asked  for  our  advice,  as  men 
of  the  world,  how  she  ought  to 
begin. 

"Read  the  instructions  on  the 
bottle,"  said  I.  "  Just  inside 
the  cover  you  will  find  some- 
thing about  keeping  in  a  cool, 
dry  place.  .  .  ." 

"  Safe  place,"  corrected  Pene- 
lope, taking  the  matter  very 
seriously.  "What  is  the  date?  " 

No  one  knew  it,  and  Robert- 
son, trying  to  show  off,  said  that 
any  date  would  do. 

"  Provided,"  said  Penelope's 
father,  who  prides  himself  on 
his  general  knowledge  and  looks 
very  wisely  over  the  top  of  his 
spectacles  when  he  utters  it — 
"provided  it  isn't  a  Sunday." 
Thereupon  Robertson  was  de- 
servedly forced  into  a  legal 
argument  with  the  father  and 
I  was  left  in  possession  of  the 
daughter. 

"What  do  I  write  next?" 
asked_,Penelope. 

"  Somebody's  name,"  said  I. 

"But  whose?" 


father  in  the  very  middle  of  his  "  on 
the  other  hand "   (the   fifth   of   them) 


and  picked  up  the  cheque. 

"  Goodness,"  I  said  contemptuously, 
"  if  I  hadn't  examined  this 
before  you  parted  with  it  you 
might  have  been  the  easy  vic- 
tim of  the  most  stupendous 
fraud  of  the  century.  You  have 
actually  been  allowed  to  leave 
out  the  "only." 

"  Pay  the  Ilcvd.  Henry  Bum- 
pus  or  Order  the.  num  of  Ten 
Shillings  and  Sixpence  only," 
was  the  final  form  of  herw  in- 
struction, for  even  her  father 
could  not  argue  that  that  \vas 
illegal,  and  even  Robertson  had 
to  admit  that  it  was  done 
sometimes  in  business.  She 
replied  haughtily  that  business 
was  business,  gave  him  a  look,' 
blotted  the  cheque  and  thanked 
me  for  my  help. 

And  that  is  how  I  lost  Pene- 
lope. 

£  -','  &  •'.' 

Our  Vicar  does  not  often  say 
sharp  words,  but  when  he  does 
he  makes  you  wish  you  were 
different  and  blame  whoever  led 
you  astray.  "Received,"  lie 
wrote,  by  return,  on  the  printed 
form  of  receipt  of  the  Amal- 
gamated Diocesan  Charities 
Fund — "received  of  Miss  Pene- 
lope Penbridge  the  sum  of  Ten 
Shillings  and  Sixpence  only." 


That  was  a  stiff  question  even 
for  a  financial  expert.  But  love 
inspires,  and  I  suggested,  that  the  Great 
Event  might  be  suitably  celebrated  by 
a  gift  to  a  local  charity.  "  Besides," 
I  argued,  "  it  ..will  propitiate  the 
Vicar."  At  'first  Penelope  was  hor- 


GOING  TO  THE  DOGS. 

Il  IS  VERT  GRATIFYING  TO  MR.  PUNCH  TO  OBSERVE  THAT 
THE  LATEST  FASHION  IN  HATS  IS  IDENTICAL  WITH  THAT  WHICH 
HAS  SO  LONG  GRACED  HIS  IMMORTAL  DOG  TOBY  ON  THE  COVER. 


argumentative  faculties  to  my  last  pro- 
position and  took  up  with  me.  I  tried 
to  involve  Robertson  in  this  argument 
also,  but  he  was  unscrupulous  enough 
to  admit  that  he  was  in  the  wrong 


nfaed.  at  the  suggestion,  supposing  I  about  the  Sundays  and  to  agree  in 
that  cheques  could  only  be  written  |  advance  with  all  that  Penelope's  father 
for  large  jsums  of; money;  butr  when  had  to  say  about  the  "or  order."  I 

was  thus  left  in  the  parent's  toils  and 


I    assured 
minimum, 


her 
she 


that 
said 


there    was 
she    wanted 


no 
to 


tenant 


A   LONG   MEMORY. 

THE  Post  Office  never  forgets. 

In  our  block  of  flats  tenants 
come  and  go.  The  landlord 
barely  remembers  the  last 
The  tradespeople  have  for- 


Penelope  to    Robertson's 


get  on  the  right  side  of  the  Vicar  and  !  too  tender  mercies: 


put  his  name  in. 


gotten  utterly.  The  gas-collector  lets 
him  pass  from  his  memory.  The  Post 
Office  never. 

"  In  some  corner  of  its  great  heart  it 
keeps,  green  the  memory  of  all  its 
children.  Out  of  its  boundless  store  it 
sends  them  missives — to  each  according 
to  his  taste. 

tender,   his       They    come    home— letters    to    the 
ghosts   of   former    tenants.      They   lie 


Penelope  was  insistent  that  her  first !  about  till  I  drop  them  regretfully  in 


"  What  do  they  mean  by  'or  order'?  "  :  cheque  should  be  impregnable  and  had  |  the  fire. 


asked  she,  going  through  it  step-by- 
step  and  being  very  determined  to  run 
no  risks  or  be  had  in  any  way. 


clearly  promised  herself  that  no  pre- 
caution, used  by  the  best  English 
cheque-writers,  should  be  omitted.  The 


I  know  each  ghost  so  well.  Bale 
and  Ball  were  bachelors,  drawn  together 
by  a  subtle  sympathy  due  to  alliterative 


Ami,  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


339 


DOMESTICATED    RAG-TIME. 


nomenclature.  When  the  holidays 
camo  they  fled  together  to  the  sea-side. 
Gay  and  debonair,  .they  were  known 
to  every  landlady  on  the  South  Coast. 
The  Post  Office— father  of  us  all— still 
pleads  with  them  to  come  back  to 
the  neglected  boarding-houses.  At 
Christmas  it  offers  charades  at  Margate. 
At  Midsummer  it  reminds  them  that 
there  are  bathrooms  and  motor-garages 
at  Brighton  and  Bournemouth. 

Quest  and  his  sister,  Miss  Quest, 
were  devoted  to  railway  shares  and  to 
each  other.  I  think- — though  of  this  I 
am  not  sure — that  they  were  twins. 
If  Quest  bought  a  share  in  the  Cale- 
donian, his  sister  went  round  next  day 
and  bought  another.  Once  Quest  was 
persuaded  by  a  friend  to  buy  a  share  in 
a  furniture  company.  Loyal  to  the 
core,  Miss  Quest  resolved  that  they 
should  flourish  or  perish  together.  She 
ul^o  bought  a  share.  They,  were  not 
mined,  but  they  were  disappointed. 
Afterwards  they  stuck  to  railways.  • 

The  Post  Office  has  never  forgotten 
their  passionate  attachment.  It  often 
sends  them  letters— always  in  pairs. 
The  letters  are  exactly  alike  inside  and 
out,  save  for  the  names—"  Miss  Quest," 
"Septimus  Quest,  -Esq."  •  Usually  they 
arc  fascinating  documents,  all  about 
railways.  But  sometimes  there  is  a 
sly  little  dig  about  that  adventure  in 
furniture. 


There  were  four  of  the  Nicklins. 
Mrs.  Nicklin  was  colourless.  She  was 
overshadowed  by  her  children.  Even 
the  Post  Office  is  vague  about  her.  It 
hesitates  between  "  Mrs."  and  "  Mr.  or 
Mrs." 

Young  Nicklin,  known  in  the  Pest 
Office  as  "  James  S.  Nicklin,  Esq." — 
"  Sammy,"  to  his  friends — was  a  dandy. 
He  was  very  particular  (I  gather)  about 
his  clothes.  His  hair  was  resplendent 
but  getting  a  little  thin.  His  friends 
must  have  twitted  him,  I  think,  about 
a  slight  tendency  to  corpulence,  and  in 
all  probability  he  was  greatly  annoyed 
about  this.  The  Post  Office  sends  him 
occasional  copies  of  "  Men's  Wear," 
and  bright  little  booklets  about  hair 
preparations.  It  implores  him — ma- 
licious old  jester — to  try  a  physical 
culture  school. 

Miss  Nicklin  went  about  with  her 
father.  Her  brother  was  too  busy  to 
worry  about  her.  They  were  very  keen 
about  literary  societies,  especially  those 
with  a  Celtic  fringe.  The  Post  Office, 
with  its  usual  good  feeling,  always 
addresses  them  conjointly  as  "  Mr.  and 
Miss  Nicklin." 

.  There  are  other  ghosts.  Symons  was 
on  intimate  terms  with  His  Majesty's 
Government.  The  Post  Office  speaks 
of  him  respectfully  as  "O.H.M.S." 
Miss  Clauston  once  went  to  an  evening 
class.  The  Post  Offic3  knows  this  and 


never  ceases  to  regret  that  she  didn't 
keep  it  up.  It  remembers  too  the 
penny  packet  of  nasturtium  seeds  that 
her  brother  bought,  heaven  knows 
how  many  years  ago.  It  sends  him  a 
reminder  every  year.  Occasionally  it 
sends  a  sports  catalogue  to  "  Master 
Pottle."  He  may  be  married  now  with 
a  boy  of  his  own,  but  the  Post  Office 
clings  affectionately  to  the  memory  of 
the  sturdy  young  rascal  it  once  knew. 
It  remembers  the  fads  and  tastes  of 
everyone — of  Miss  Green  who  liked 
sherry,  and  J.  Brown,  Esq.,  who  in- 
clined to  Irish  whiskey ;  of  Miss  Black 
who  adored  sale  lists,  and  Mr.  White 
who  preferred  book  catalogues. 

Some  day  I  shall  leave  this  flat. 
For  a  week  or  two  the  landlord  will 
vaguely  regret  "  a  good  tenant " — and 
then  ho  will  forget.  The  milkman  will 
cease  to  recall  my  habits.  The  book- 
binder will  think  no  more  of  my  end- 
papers and  about  not  sprinkling  the 
edges. 

But  I  know — and  there  is  comfort  in 
the  thought — that  when  all  others  have 
forgotten,  the  Post  Office  will  remember. 


"  WEST— SMITH.— On  April  14th,    at   St. 
Peter's  Collegiate  Church,  Ethel,  third  daugh- 
ter of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  Jones,  to  Ruben 
Edmund,  youngest  son  of  William  West." 
Midland  Evening  News, 

A  nasty  shock  for  Miss  SMITH. 


340 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Arair,  30,  1913. 


GETTING    MARRIED. 


II. — FURNISHING. 

"  BY  the  way,"  said  Celia  suddenly 
"  what  have  you  done  about  the 
fixtures  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  I  replied  truthfully. 

"  Well,  we  must  do  something  about 
them." 

"  Yes.  My  solicitor — he  shall  do 
something  about  them.  Don't  let  '& 
talk  about  them  now.  I  've  only  got 
three  hours  more  with  you,  and  then  1 
must  dash  back  to  my  work." 

I  must  say  that  any  mention  of 
fixtures  has  always  bored  me  intensely. 
When  it  was  a  matter  of  getting  a 
house  to  live  in  I  was  all  energy.  As 
soon  as' Celia  had  found  it,  I  put  my 
solicitor  on  to  it ;  and  within  a  month 
I  had  signed  my  name  in  two  places, 
and 'was  the  owner  of  a  highly  resi- 
dential flat  in  the  best  part  of  the 
neighbourhood.  But  my  effort  so 
exhausted  me  that  I  have  felt  utterly 
unable  since  to  cope  with  the  question 
of  the  curtain-rod  in  the  bath-room  or 
whatever  it  is  that  Celia  means  by 
fixtures.  These  things  will  arrange 
themselves  somehow,  I  feel  confident. 

Meanwhile  the  decorators  are  hard 
at  work.  A  thrill  of  pride  inflates  me 
when  I  think  of  the  decorators  at 
work.  I  don't  know  how  they  got 
there ;  I  suppose  I  must  have  ordered 
them.  Celia  says  that  she  ordered 
them  and  chose  all  the  papers  herself, 
and  that  all  I  did  was  to  say  that  the 
papers  she  had  chosen  were  very 
pretty ;  but  this  doesn't  sound  like  me 
in  the  least.  I  am  convinced  that  I 
was  the  man  of  action  when  it  came  to 
ordering  decorators. 

"  And  now,"  said  Celia  one  day,  "  we 
can  go  and  choose  the  electric-light 
fittings." 

"Celia,"  I  said  in  admiration,  "you  're 
a  wonderful  person.  I  should  have 
forgotten  all  about  them." 

"  Why,  they  're  about  the  most  im- 
portant thing  in  the  flat." 

"  Somehow  I  never  .regarded  any- 
body as  choosing  them.  I  thought 
they  just  grew  in  the  wall.  From 
bulbs." 

When  we  got  into  the  shop  Celia 
became  businesslike  at  once. 

"  We  'd  better  start  with  the  hall," 
she  told  the  man. 

"Everybody  else  will  have  to,"  I 
said,  "  so  we  may  as  well." 

"  What  sort  of  a  light  did  you  want 
there?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  strong  one,"  I  said  ;  "  so  as  to  be 
able  to  watch  our  guests  carefully  when 
they  pass  the  umbrella  stand." 

Celia  waved  me  away  and  explained 
that  we  wanted  a  hanging  lantern. 
It  appeared  that  this  shop  made  a 


speciality  not  so  much  of  the  voltage 
as  of  the  lamps  enclosing  it. 

•"  How  do  you  like  that?  "  asked  the 
man,  pointing  to  a  magnificent  affair 
in  brass.  He  wandered  off  to  a  switch 
and  turned  it  on. 

"Dare  you  ask  him  the  price?"  I 
asked  Celia.  "  It  looks  to  me  about  a 
thousand  pounds.  If  it  is,  say  that 
you  don't  like  the  style.  Don't  let  him 
think  we  can't  afford  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Celia,  in  a  careless  sort 
of  way.  "  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  care 
about  that.  How  much  is  it  ?  " 

"  Two  pounds." 

I  was  not  going  to  show  my  relief. 
"Without  the  light,  of  course  ?  "  I  said 
disparagingly. 

"  How  do  you  think  it  would  look  in 
the  hall  ?  "  said  Celia  to  me. 

"  I  think  our  guests  would  be  en- 
couraged to  proceed.  They  'd  see  that 
we  were  pretty  good  people." 

"  I  don't  like  it.    It 's  too  ornate." 

"  Then  show  us  something  less 
ornate,"  I  told  the  man  sternly. 

He  showed  us  things  less  ornate. 
At  the  end  of  an  hour  Celia  said  she 
thought  we  'd  better  get  on  to  another 
room,  and  come  back  to  the  hall  after- 
wards. We  decided  to  proceed  to  the 
drawing-room. 

"  WTe  must  go  all  out  over  these," 
said  Celia  ;  "  I  want  these  to  be  really 
beautiful." 

At  the  end  of  another  hour  Celia 
said  she  thought  we  'd  better  get  on  to 
my  workroom.  My  workroom,  as  trie 
name  implies,  is  the  room  to  which  I 
am  to  retire  when  I  want  complete 
quiet.  Sometimes  I  shall  go  there 
after  lunch  .  .  .  and  have  it. 

"  We  can  come  back  to  the  drawing- 
room  afterwards,"  she  said.  "  It 's 
really  very  important  that  we  should 
get  the  right  ones  for  that.  Your  room 
won't  be  so  difficult,  but  of  course  you 
must  have  awfully  nice  ones." 

I  looked  at  my  watch. 

"  It 's  a  quarter  to  one,"  I  said.  "  At 
2.15  on  the  17th  of  June  we  are  due 
at  St.  Miriam's.  If  you  think  we 
shall  have  bought  anything  by  then, 
let's  go  on.  If,  as  seems  to  me,  there 
is  no  hope  at  all,  then  let 's  have  lunch 
to-day  anyhow.  After  lunch  we  may 
be  able  to  find  some  way  out  of  the 
impasse." 

After  lunch  I  had  an  idea. 

"This  afternoon,"  I  said,  "we  will 
Degin  to  get  some  furniture  together." 

"  But  what  about  the  electric  fit- 
ings  ?  We  must  finish  off  those." 

"  This  is  an  experiment.  I  want  to 
see  if  we  can  buy  a  chest  of  drawers. 
[t  may  just  be  our  day  for  it." 

"  And  we  settle  the  fittings  to- 
morrow. Yes?" 

"  I  don't  know.     We  may  not  want 


them.  It  all  depends  on  whether  we 
can  buy  a  chest  of  drawers  this  after- 
noon. If  we  can't,  then  I  don't  see 
how  we  can  ever  be  married  on  the 
17th  of  June.  Somebody 's  got  to  be, 
because  I  've  engaged  the  church.  The 
question  is  whether  it 's  going  to  be  us. 
Let 's  go  and  buy  a  chest  of  drawers 
this  afternoon,  and  see." 

The  old  gentleman  in  the  little  shop 
Celia  knew  of  was  delighted  to  see  us. 

"  Chestesses  ?  Ah,  you  'ave  come  to 
the  right  place."  He  led  the  way  into 
the  depths.  "  There  now.  There  's  a 
chest — real  old,  that  is."  He  gave  it 
a  hearty  smack.  "  You  don't  see  a 
chest  like  that  nowadays.  They  can't 
make  'em.  Three  pound  ten.  You 
couldn't  have  got  that  to-morrer.  I  'd 
have  sold  it  for  four  pound  to-morrer." 

"  I  knew  it  was  our  day,"  I  said. 

"  Real  old,  that  is.  Spanish  me'ogany, 
all  oak  lined.  That 's  right,  Sir,  pull 
the  drawers  out  and  see  for  yourself. 
Let  the  lady  se?.  There  's  no  imitation 
there,  lady.  A  real  old  chest,  that  is. 
Come  in  'ere  in  a  week  and  you  'd  have 
to  pay  five  pounds  for  it.  Me'ogany 's 
going  up,  you  see,  that 's  how." 

"Well?"  I  said  to  Celia. 

"  It 's  perfectly  sweet.  Hadn't  we 
better  see  some  more  ?  " 

We  saw  two  more.  Both  of  them 
Spanish  me'ogany,  oak  lined,  pull-the- 
dra  wers  -  out  -  and  -  see-for-yourself-lady. 
Half-an-hour  passed  rapidly. 

"Well?  "I  said. 

"  I  really  don't  know  which  I  like 
best.  Which  do  you?  " 

"  The  first ;  it 's  nearer  the  door." 

"  There 's  another  shop  just  over  the 
way.  We  'd  better  just  look  there  too, 
and  then  we  can  come  back  to  decide 
to-morrow." 

We  went  out.  I  glanced  at  my  watch. 
It  was  3.30,  and  we  were  being  married 
at  2.15  on  June  17th. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  I  said,  "  I  've 
forgotten  my  gloves." 

I  may  be  a  slow  starter,  but  I  am 
very  firm  when  roused.  I  went  into 
the  shop,  wrote  a  cheque  for  the  three 
hosts  of  drawers,  and  told  the  man 
where  to  send  them.  When  I  returned, 
;elia  was  at  the  shop  opposite, 
pulling  the  drawers  out  of  a  real  old 
mahogany  chest  which  was  standing 
on  the  pavement  outside. 

"  This  is  even  better,"  she  said. 
'  It 's  psrfectly  adorable.  I  wonder  if 
it 's  more  expensive." 

"  I  '11  just  ask,"  I  said. 

I  went  in  and,  without  an  unnecessary 
word,  bought  that  chest  too.  Then  I 
ame  back  to  Celia.  It  was  3.45,  and 
on  June  17th  at  2.15—  Well,  we 
iad  four  chests  of  draweis  towards  it. 

"  Celia,"  I  said,  "  we  may  just  do  it 
yet."  A.  A.  M. 


Arim,  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAIM. 


341 


ONCE  UPON   A   TIME. 

THK  VASKFUL. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  a  little  company 
of  the  wild  flowers  of  Spring  found 
themselves  together  in  a  vase.  It  was 
t!ie  first  time  that  many  of  them  had 
mot ;  for  although  they  came  from  the 

mi!  district,  indeed  the  same  copse, 
and  had  heard  of  each  other's  character- 
istics, they  had  grown  up  too  far  away 
from  eacli  other  for  conversation,  and 
(lowers,  of  course,  cannot  walk.  It  was 
therefore  with  peculiar  interest  that 
they  now  examined  each  other  and  fell 
a-talking. 

There  was  naturally  a  little  hesitation 
at  first,  for  social  grades  must  be  pre- 
served ;  but  they  were  so  tightly  packed 
in  the  vase,  and  for  the  most  part  so 
forlorn  at  their  fate,  that  barriers  soon 
disappeared,  and  the  oxlip  ceased  to 
despise  the  cowslip,  and  the  cowslip 
was  quite  nice  to  the  primrose,  and 
the  purple  orchis  almost  dropped  his 
aristocratic  drawl  when  talking  to  the 
bluebell. 

The  purple  orchis,  who  was  not  only 
a  heavy  drinker  but  rather  a  bully,  was 
the  only  one  who  was  not  unhappy  to 
be  there.  "  I  knew  I  should  attract 
attention  soon,"  he  said ;  "  there  were 
so  few  of  us  and  we're  so  noticeable. 
By  Jove,  this  tipple 's  delicious !  "  and 
he  took  a  long  draught. 

"  Please  don't  push  so,"  said  a  small 
voice  at  his  side. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  the 
orchis  asked.  "  You  anemones  are 
always  such  weaklings." 

"I'm  afraid  I  feel  rather  faint," 
replied  the  anemone.  "  I  'm  not  strong 
at  any  time,  it 's  true,  and  just  now,  no 
matter  how  I  stretch,  I  can't  quite 
reach  the  water.  I  'm  afraid  that  little 
girl  put  me  in  the  vase  rather  care- 
lessly ;  her  hand  was  a  little  too  hot, 
too." 

"  Or  else" — the  orchis  laughed — "or 
else  I  'm  getting  more  than  my  share. 
Ha,  ha!" 

"  Surely,"  said  a  cowslip  to  a  bluebell, 
"  there  were  more  of  you  in  the  little 
girl's  hands  when  we  left  the  wood?" 

"  Alas,  yes,"  said  the  bluebell. 
"Must  of  my  closest  friends  were 
picked  too,  and  I  hoped  we  were  all 
coming  along  together  so  that  we 
might  at  least  cheer  each  other  as  we 
perished.  To  die  in  a  crowd  is  easier, 
1  have  always  heard.  But  for  some 
reason  or  other  which  has  never  been 
explained  to  me  bluebells  seem  to  be 
more  easily  and  more  often  thrown 
away  after  being  picked  than  any  othei 
flower;  and  all  my  companions  must 
Inivo  suffered  that  common  fate." 

"  It  is  quite  true,"  said  the  cowslip 
"  From  my  high  position  on  the  bank 


s  . 
•   t 


Loafer  (who  has  forced  his  attentions  on  old  lady  in  the  matter  of  her  luggagt  and  received 
a  small  gratuity).  "THIS  is  THE  FUST  JOB  I'VE  HAD  THIS  WEEK,  LIDT.     WOT  ABAHT  ME 

FBIPPENCE  PUB  MB  INSURANCE  STAMP?" 


I  have  again  and  again  seen  bunches 
of  bluebells  forsaken  by  children.  How 
is  it,  I  wonder  ?  It  is  not  as  if  they 
were  ugly ;  although  blue  is  not  every- 
one's colour." 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  cuckoo-spit  with 
a  touch  of  sarcasm,  for  he  disliked  the 
cowslip,  "  it 's  because  you  can't  make 
tea  of  them." 

"No,"  said  the  oxlip,  who  was 
looked  up  to  as  something  of  a  sage  by 
reason  of  his  strength  and  his  many- 
eyes,  "  it  is  because  bluebells  are  so 
much  more  beautiful  when  they  are  in 
a  wood  among  greenery  than  when 
they  are  packed  together  in  a  human 
hand,  and  the  human  hand  suddenly 


realises  this  and  drops  them  in  dis- 
appointment." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  bluebell  with 
a  sigh  of  content. 

"The  wonder,"  the  oxlip  continued 
with  a  glance  at  the  cuckoo-spit,  "  is 
that  some  flowers  are  ever  picked  at 
all." 

Silence  followed,  broken  by  a  little 
sigh.  It  was  the  dying  anemone's  last 
breath.  

"  Silently  and  assiduously  the  members  of 
the  Mission  Choir  have  been  practising  for 
their  concluding  concert." 

Tynemouth  Priory  Parish  Magazine. 

The  ideal  choir  practice. 


342 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  30,  1913. 


\ 


NATURE    STUDIES. 

THE  COB-NUT. 


MAHOLI    GALAGO. 

[The  Malioli  Galago  /ws  recently  arrived  at  the  Zoo  from 
South  Africa.  It  lias  ears  of  great  size  ivhich  it  can 
fold  up.] 

MAHOLI,  your  paw !  you  're  the  fellow  for  me, 

Being  bright  as  a  robin  and  brisk  as  a  bee, 

With  your  neat  little  snout,  and  your  fine  pair  of  eyes, 

And  your  soft  coat  of  fur,  and  your  air  of  surprise, 

As  if  you  were  puzzled  to  know  how  the  deu- 

-ce  it  was  ever  arranged  you  should  come  to  the  Zoo. 

In  the  realms  that  you  left  when  you  went  aboard  ship,  oh, 

You  "re  missed  by  the  rhino  and  mourned  by  the  hippo  ; 

And  the  elephant,  munching  his  rice  or  his  sago, 

Is  sad  for  the  loss  of  Maholi  Galago. 

There  are  beasts  left  in  plenty,  but  none,  it  appears, 

Who  can  please  all  the  others  by  folding  his  ears. 

And  now  that  you're  with  us — mirabile  dictu  !— 

Will  our  looks  and  our  clothes  and  our  bearing  afflict  you  ? 

When  we  come  to  the  Zoo  shall  we  soothe  or  alarm  you '! 

Will  our  features  offend  or  our  converse  disarm  you  ? 

I  know  only  this  :  if  we  talk  you  to  tears 

You  can  always  get  even  by  folding  you'r  ears. 

Henceforth  I  shall  practise  for  clubs  and  such  places 
This  method  of  moving  the  flaps  of  our  faces ; 
And  when  I  am  pinned  by  a  bore  or  a  boress 
With  second-hand  jokes  or  with  story-book  stories, 
What  repose  shall  be  mine,  where  of  old  there  were  fears, 
As  I  copy  Maholi  and  fold  up  my  ears  ! 


OUR    PERSONAL    COLUMN. 

[With  acknowledgments  to  "  The  Times."] 

Lord  FitzBoodle  is  93  to-day. 

The  Baron  de  Slosch  has  taken  190,  Grosvenor  Square, 
for  the  season. 

The  Marquis  of  Midhurst  was  89  yesterday. 

Lady  Blond  is  now  convalescent  after  a  severe  attack  of 
Peruvian  mumps,  and  will  give  her  fourth  Fragonard  dinner 
on  Thursday  next. 

Baron  Eaphael  de  Silva  left  yesterday  for  Golconda. 

Lord  Stonor  de  Broke  lias  arrived  at  Rowton  House. 

Mr.  Phil  Youngson  is  starting  in  the  Italic  next  Saturday 
for  a  pleasure  trip  to  Sandy  Hook. 

The  Hon.  Methuselah  Diesel,  only  son  of  Lord  D'Oyly  of 
Batoum,  is  9  to-day. 

Mr.  J.  Cuttell  Fischer,  who  appeared  before  the  Marconi 
Committee  last  week,  is  now  pronounced  to  be  out  of 
danger. 

Lord  Montacute  of  Saffron  Hill  has  returned  to  214,  Bel- 
grave  Square,  from  a  trip  in  Transjordania,  and  will  celebrate 
his  silver  wedding  on  Friday. 

Sir  Prescott  Knight  was-  unfortunately  prevented  from 
attending  the  funeral  of  the  late  Lord  Itteringham  by  an 
attack  of  whooping-cough  ;  otherwise  this  would  have  boon 
the  tenth  funeral  attended  by  Sir  Prescott  Knight  in  seven 
days,  and  the  ten  thousandth  since  his  retirement  from  the 
stage. 

Mrs.  Bamberger,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Marcus  Bamberger,  the 
famous  violinist,  and  daughter,  of  Sir  Pompey  Boldero, 
F.E.S.L.,  gave  birth  to  triplets  on  the  26th  inst. — Paganini, 
Sarasate  and  Neruda  Bamberger. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— APBII  30.  1913. 


SWELLING    VISIBLY/ 


MR.  LLOYD  GEORGE  (Budget-maker}.  "  CHEST— A    HUNDRED    AND    NINETY-FIVE    MILLIONS." 
JOHN  BULL.  « THAT    SOUNDS    RATHER    FLATTERING.      WON'T    IT    BE    TOO    BIG    FOR    ME  ? " 
ME.  LLOYD  GEOKGE.  "  NO,    SIR,    NOT    AT    YOUR    PRESENT    RATE    OF    EXPANSION." 


APRIL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


345 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIAKY  OF  TOBY,  M.I'.) 

IIousc  of  Lords,  Monday,  April  21. — 
After  period  of  what  was  practically 
self-effacement  noble  Lords  assemble 
for  a  field-day.  Flags  are  flying,  drums 
beating,  trumpets  blaring.  Appointed 
business  Second  Beading  of  Army- 
Annual  Bill.  Opportunity  seized  (o 
renew  attack,  opened  on  Thursday,  upon 
home  defence  policy  of  the  Government 
in  general,  the  Territorial  Army  in  par- 
ticular. 

NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE  HALDANE 
himself  again.  Costume  of  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, with  which  irony  of  fate  invests 
him,  obviously  unsuited  for  military 
manoeuvres.  But  he  wears  his  wig  with 
a  difference  and  wraps  his  gown  about 
him  as  if  it  were  a  martial  cloak.  One 
fancies  there  is  visible  recrudescence 
of  the  historic  Napoleonic  curl  culti- 
vated when  he  represented  War  Office 
in  the  Commons.  It  may  be  merely 
accidental  arrangement  of  front  frill  of 
full-bottomed  wig.  That  a  detail. 
No  mistake  about  temporary  trans- 
formation of  the  man  of  law  into  man 
of  war. 

Peculiar  interest  attached  to  speech 
of  Viscount  MIDLETON  leading  attack 
on  Government  on  vital  question  of 
state  of  preparation  for  war  and  posses- 
sion of  adequate  means  to  carry  it  on. 
Recognised  that  he  speaks  as  one  having 
authority,  not  as  an  amateur  critic. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  Government 
responsible,  after  long  possession  of 
office,  for  state  of  the  Army  called  upon 
fourteen  years  ago  to  save  the  Empire 
threatened  by  President  KRUGER'S 
Territorial  Forces.  For  a  period 
darkened  by  densest  cloud  of  disaster 
in  the  field  he  was  in  personal  control 
of  the  War  Office.  What  he  has  to 
say  upon  present  state  of  the  Army, 
what  counsel  to  give  for  its  improve- 
ment, are  matters  worthy  of  closest 
attention. 

With  sickening  of  heart  noble  lords 
heard  the  anxiously  awaited  verdict. 
The  ST.  JOHN  BRODEICK  of  Boer  War 
days  had  looked  round  upon  con- 
dition of  Army  under  present  Adminis- 
tration, and  behold !  it  was  hopelessly 
bad.  Since  HALDANE  framed  his  scheme 
in  1907,  the  peril  confronting  the 
Empire  had  increased,  whilst  means 
of  grappling  with  it  had  diminished. 

"  What  is  the  noble  Viscount  at  ?  " 
snapped  LORD  CHANCELLOR,  evidently 
touched  to  the  quick.  "  What  does  he 
want?  Does  he  want  us  to  go  back 
to  the  condition  of  tilings  in  1903  ?  If 
he  does,  does  anybody  else  want  us  to 
doit?" 

Rather  a  nasty  one  that.  But  LORD 
CHANCELLOR,  fighting  single-handed 


Back  to  the  Army  again. 
(Lord  HALDANE.) 

with  back  to  the  wall  (to  be  precise,  to 
the  Woolsack),  presently  overwhelmed 
by  combined  onslaught.  Strong 
language  used.  CUHZON  described 
NAPOLEON  B.  as  "  the  greatest  master 
of  copious  irrelevance  the  House  of 
Lords  has  ever  known."  DENBIGH 
hurled  at  him  declaration  that  in  the 
matter  of  national  armament  "  all  the 
slackers,  funkers,  wasters  and  loafers 
are  on  the  Liberal  side."  AMPTHILL 
protested  that  the  Government  "  trifled 
and  fooled  with  the  vital  question." 

This  storm,  through  which  whistled 
a  flight  of  bullets,  seemed  to  lead  to 
crushing  defeat  of  a  criminal  Govern- 
ment equally  ignorant  and  impotent. 
But  at  approach  of  dinner-hour  the 
signal  "Cease  firing!"  sounded, 
and  at  twenty  minutes  past  eight 


The  old  warrior  leads  the  attack. 
(Viscount  MIDLETON.) 


House  adjourned.  Second  Reading 
of  Army  Bill  agreed  to  without 
division. 

Business  done. — In  the  Commons 
Collection  of  Taxes  Bill  read  a  third 
time  and  passed.  Members  sat  up  late 
with  the  Suffragettes  released  on  licence. 
Amongst  many  amendments  moved  in 
Committee  on  Prisoners'  (Temporary 
Discharge  for  Ill-Health)  Bill,  McCuBDY 
proposed  to  omit  its  application  to  a 
female  prisoner  who  had  been  forcibly 
fed, "  unless  such  feeding  had  been  with 
her  consent."  After  puzzling  some  time 
over  this  prime  bull  from  Northampton, 
Committee  sent  it  to  grass  by  229  votes 
to  49. 

House  of  Commons,  Tuesday. — LLOYD 
GEORGE'S  speech  this  afternoon  ex- 
pounding Budget  marked  striking 
change  of  fashion  in  respect  of  concep- 
tion and  fashioning  of  leading  feature 
of  the  Session.  Time  was  when  the 
Chancellor  was  at  infinite  pains  to 
endow  the  uninviting  figures  of  his 
financial  scheme  with  the  grace  of 
oratory  and  the  charm  of  scholarship. 
Above  all  there  was  a  peroration,  and 
an  expectant  House  would  have  felt 
itself  defrauded  had  this  not  been  forth- 
coming. 

LLOYD  GEORGE'S  speech,  delivered 
to  audience  falling  something  shoit  of 
number  usually  mustered  on  such 
occasions,  was  a  plain  business  state- 
ment, comparatively  brief,  superlatively 
lucid.  Nothing  in  the  way  of  perora- 
tion as  commonly  understood.  Wily 
CHANCELLOR  had  another  card  up  his 
sleeve,  and  at  proper  moment  triumph- 
antly played  it. 

When,  his  task  accomplished,  he 
seemed  about  to  resume  his  seat,  he 
pulled  himself  together  and  proposed 
to  answer  his  own  question,  "  What 
have  the  Government  done  since  they 
came  into  office?"  Amid  resounding 
cheers  from  delighted  Ministerialists, 
their  hearts  already  cheered  by  an- 
nouncement that,  in  spite  of  increased 
expenditure  approaching  seven  millions 
in  excess  of  actual  revenue  of  1912-13, 
no  new  taxes  would  be  imposed,  he 
totted  up  the  sum. 

To  begin  with,  reversing  practice 
established  and  pursued  by  late  Govern- 
ment, instead  of  borrowing  to  meet 
increased  expenditure  on  Naval  and 
Military  works,  leaving  posterity  to 
pay  the  bill,  it  is  provided  for  out  of 
revenue  of  the  year.  Taxes  on  food 
have  been  reduced  by  five  million 
pounds.  Taxes  on  small  incomes  and 
agricultural  cottage  repairs  have  been 
lessened  by  half  that  sum.  An  addi- 
tional twelve  millions  sterling  has  been 
provided  for  National  Defence ;  whilst 
twenty  millions  have  been  expended  in 
making  easier  the  lot  of  the  aged  poor, 


346 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Appii,  30,  1913. 


the  sick,   the   infirm    and    the    unem- 
ployed.      Those      charges      met  '-  out 
of   the   year's  income,  twelve   months  ] 
hence  tiie    National    Debt    will   have 


A   FIGHT   FOR    FREEDOM. 

'CERTAINLY  not,"   I    said   severely, 
vour   remark    is   frivolous.      This   is 


liuiicu     iiiiv     li uciuuin      j-^uuij       \>  III     lUtvUj       j  i_nii     icuAcun     10     iii>  uji^iio.         JLUM     10 

In1  MI  reduced  by  one  hundred  and  two !  from  the  landlord;  it  is  an  impressive 

millions,  involving  an  annual  reduction   letter.     Listen.     '  DEAR  SIR, — I  am  in- 

of  expenditure  in  interest   amounting  formed  that  on  Tuesday  last,  the  18th   «.u.uo.^.  <„„  „„„  llllaL,,in 

to  two  million  six  hundred  thousand  inst.,    there  was   a   large   quantity   of  fell  into  the  other  day 


pounds. 

"  llather  prosaic,"  murmured 
the  MEMBER  FOR  SARK.  "  A 
little  low  by  comparison  with 
one  of  GLADSTONE'S  lofty  flights 
of  eloquence,  or  BOB  LOWE'S 
piquant  persiflage. .  But  on  the 
whole,  regarding 'matters  from 
standpoint  of  a  citizen  who 
pays  his  taxes  and  looks  forward 
hopefully  to  enjoyment  of  Old 
Age  Pension,  not  sure  it  is  not 
the  most  effective  peroration  of 
the  forty  Budgets  I  have  heard 
expounded." 

Business  done. — Budget  intro- 
duced. 

Friday. — Good  deal  of  talk 
this  week  inside  House  and  out 
of  it  on  subject  of  Territorials. 
CATHCAHT  WASON  has  in  hand 
little  plan  for  increasing  popu- 
larity of  the  Service.  Seated 
in  corner  of  Library  knitting 
woollen  muffler  for  an  aged 
constituent  —  Madame  Defargc 
at  the  foot  of  the  guillotine 


*>), 


LLOYD  GEOKGE.  "  Not  so  tricky,  perhaps,  as  some  that 
you,  gentlemen,  but  a  perfectly  sound  performer." 
(The  CHANCELLOR  introduces  the  Budget.) 


"  I  shan't  stop  it,"  she  said  boldly 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  shall  parley  with  him,"  I  replied 
So  that  evening  I  wrote  to  the  land 
lord  as  follows  : — 

"  DKAR  SIR, — We  were   very  much 
amused  at  the  mistake  your  informant 
The  fact  is  we 

were  having  a  little  family 
gathering  to  celebrate  my  grcal 
aunt's  84th  birthday  (a  ripe 
age,  you  must  admit).  On  her 
departure  we  all  assembled  in 
the  garden  and  waved  good-bye 
to  her.  Can  it  bo  that  your 
informant,  passing  at  "this 
moment,  saw  only  the  fluttering 
handkerchiefs  and  did  .  not 
perceive  the  forms  of  my  uncle 
Edward,  my  aunt  Hephzibab, 
my  cousins  Clarence  and  Her- 
bart  ?  It  would  be  a  quite  par- 
tbnable  but  very  laughable  error. 
Yours  truly, 

HORACE  FLOWERPOT. 
P-S. — I  find  I  have  forgotten 
to  mention  that  my   aunt  can 
raad  the  smallest  print  without 
spectacles." 

I  thought  this  would  settle 
him,  but  a  fortnight  later  he 
returned  to  the  charge.  This 
time  his  letter  was  sterner  and 


washing  hung  out  in  your  garden.  I 
beg  to  remind  you  that  this  is  expressly 
forbidden  by  the  terms  of  your  lease. 
I  must  ask  you  not  to  let  it  occur 


again.' 




wasn't  in  it  with  MEMBER  FOR  ORKNEY 
AND  SHETLAND  in  matters  of  speed  and 
skill  with  the  knitting-needle—idea 
flashed  upon  his  mind. 

Simply  is  that  men  who  serve  in  the   »6c.lu. 

Territorial  Army  should,  in  common       "  What  a  very   disagreeable   man  " 
with  masters  who  help   to  make  the  said  Phyllis ;"  how  does  it  hurt  him  ?" 
service  possible,  be  relieved  from  pay-       "  He  may  be  doing  it  for  the  best  " 
ments  under  National  Insurance  Act.   I   said;    "perhaps   he    thinks   it   will 
To  the  individual  the  money  value  of  injure  our  social  position." 
this  concession  might  be  small. 
In    the     aggregate     its     effect 
upon    National    Expenditure    of 
£195,640,000  would  not  be  crush- 
ing.   But  it  has  the  attraction  of 
i  special    attention   that  would 
be  keenly  appreciated  and  might 
justly  be  paid. 

Eepresentation  on  matter, 
backed  by  influential  group  of 
Members  from  both  political 
camps,  is  being  put  forward  in 
proper  quarter,  not  without  hope 
of  success. 

Business    done.  —   Hours     of 
Polling    discussed     on     Bill 
charge  of  WILLIE  PEARCE. 


utterly  destroyed.  "  This  is  what  one 
calls  a  strong  man,"  I  said  to  myself, 
"  a  man  of  blood  and  iron  ;  but  he  has 
met  his  match.  I  will  outmanoeuvre 
him." 

"  DEAR  SIR,"  I  wrote,—"  Your  letter 
surprised  if  it  did  not   pain  me;    and 

___*_T  '  f  '  I  -T'T 


pained    if    it 


not    surprise    me. 


Cactus  Cottage  seems  to  be  the  victim 


of 


in 


"  Hearty  '  Hocks  '  for  the  King  and 
Queen  were  raised  by  an  enthusiastic 
band  of  Germans  at  'Birchenough  Col- 
liery."— Halifax  Evening  Courier. 

We    ourselves    raised    a    hearty 
barley-water  in  Fleet  Street. 


La  Tricoteuse. 
(Mr.  CATHOABT  WASON.) 


some  strange  misunderstanding. 
But  I  feel  sure  that  you  will 
exonerate  me  when  you  hear  of 
the  shocking  occurrences  that 
have  just  taken  place  at  Hopham. 
Indeed  we  live  in  stirring  times ! 
About  11  o'clock  on  Tuesday 
morning  my  wife  observed  a 
large  body  of  Suffragettes  coming 
up  the  hill.  She  was,  as  you 
can  understand,  considerably 
alarmed,  as  the  ladies  seemed 
highly  indignant.  She  roused 
me  at  once  and  we  tried  to  put 
the  house  in  a  state  of  defence. 
But  it  is  not,  I  am  afraid,  very 
strongly  built  (those  repairs  I 
spoke  to  you  about  — -  but  no 
matter,  we  will  speak  of  that 
another  time).  What  more 
natural  than  that  we  should  hang 
out  a  white  flag,  in  fact,  several 
white  flags?  By  this  means 
we  saved  the  situation.  The 
justly  incensed  women  passed  our 


APRIL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


317 


house  shouting,  '  Wo  want  justice,' 
and  broke  every  window  in  poor 
Gudge's  shop.  He,  poor  fellow,  is  half 
demented,  and  I  am  told  his  wife  is 
now  heating  him  for  his  negligence  in 
not  putting  up  the  shutters.  I  hope 
you  now  understand  that  what  you 
thought  was  washing  were  signals  of 
distress." 

I  said  nothing  to  Phyllis  ahout  these 
letters ;  women,  I  have  found,  do  not 
appreciate  the  finer  shades  of  diplomacy. 
With  a  calm  eagerness  I  awaited  the 
landlord's  next  letter.  It  came  soon 
and  it  was  to  the  point.  Steps,  it 
appeared  this  time,  were  to  be  taken  at 
once,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  his  note 
he  went  so  far  as  to  cast  doubts  on  my 
veracity.  A  solicitor  to  whom  I  showed 
it  said  that  if  it  had  been  on  a  postcard 
it  would  have  been  actionable.  I 
determined  to  make  a  courteous  and 
dignified  reply.  These  were  its  terms : — 

"You  appear  to  be  under  the  im- 
pression that  washing  is  hung  out  to 
dry  in  the  garden  of  Cactus  Cottage. 
I  have  twice  endeavoured  to  remove 
that  impression.  Let  me  now  make  a 
final  effort.  Had  you,  last  Tuesday, 
passed  our  pleasant  and  capacious 
garden  (18ft.  by  12ft.)  you  might  reason- 
ably have  said  to  yourself,  '  That  is  a 
clothes-line  and  those  are  (or  that  is) 
washing.'  What  would  have  been  the 
real  facts?  Early  in  the  morning  an 
enormous  flock  of  seagulls  (a  white 
bird,  as  you  know)  came  and  surrounded 
the  house.  It  was  impossible  to  drive 
them  away ;  it  is  no  use  saying  '  Shoo, 
shoo,'  to  a  hundred  -  birds  at  a  time. 
There  they  were  and  there  they  re- 
mained all  day.  Why  they  came  so 
far  inland  is  a  point  of  great  ornitho- 
logical interest.  The  long  spell  of  cold 
wet  weather  may  have  something  to  do 
with  it.  Or.  can  .seagulls  be  changing 
their  habits,  and  becoming  inland 
birds  ?  I  trust  this  matter  is  now  ex- 
plained and  laid  to  rest  for  ever. 
Yours,  etc." 

To  my  disappointment  he  made  no 
reference  in  his  reply  to  the  seagulls 
(of  whom  I  was  rather  proud).  All  he 
said  was,  "  Your  tenancy  terminates  on 
25th  inst.  No  further  correspondence 
is  desired." 

This  was  rather  rude,  but  it  takes 
two  to  make  a  quarrel  and  only  one  to 
make  a  correspondence,  so  I  wrote  him 
a  farewell  letter  : — 

"  DEAK  SIB, — I  see  with  pain  that 
you  refuse  to  accept  any  of  my 
numerous  explanations.  I  am  sorry, 
genuinely  sorry,  because  I  should  have 
liked  to  give  you  some  more,  and  I 
really  think  they  got  better  and  better. 
However,  my  conscience  is  clear  and 
I  shall  depart  with  pleasure  to  some 


Son  of  the  House  (to  caller).  "I   WANTED  TO  SEE  YOU   'cos  FATHER  SAYS  YOU   MADE 
YOURSELF."  Caller.  "YES,  MY  LAD,  AND  I'M  PROUD  HOP  IT." 

Son  of  House.  "B-BUT  WHY  DID  YOU  DO  IT  LIKE  THAT?" 


place  where  one  may  wave  one's  hand- 
kerchief freely  to  one's  aged  aunt,  hang 
out  a  flag  if  one  is  frightened,  and 
receive  visits  from  a  flock  of  seagulls 
(or  any  other  bird)  without  censorious 
remarks.  Yet  I  cannot  blame  you ; 
we  are  both  the  victims  of  circumstance. 
Yours,  etc." 

I  read  this  letter  to  Phyllis.  She  had 
forgotten  all  about  the  whole  subject. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  said.  "  Is  it  a 
competition  ?  You  've  never  won  any- 
thing yet.  It  sounds  very  silly." 

"  It 's  a  business  letter,"  I  said,  "  one 
of  the  best  I  ever  wrote.  It 's  to  the 
landlord." 

"  Well,  I  'm  glad  you  've  given  him 
notice.  But  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  It  means,"  I  said,  "  that  England 
is  a  free  country,  and  that  we  can  hang 
out  our  washing  where  we  like." 

"  I  knew  that  already,"  said  Phyllis. 


The  Cost  of  Living. 
"70gs.  a  week  for  nine  weeks  from  Whit- 
suntide.    Very  desirable  tenant  offers  above 
for  Prettily-furnished  House  in  good  position 
in  Belgravia." — Advt.  in  "  Morning  Post." 
Our  prettily  furnished  flat  in  Bellevue 
Mansions  (overlooking  canal)  is  going 
for  69  guineas  a  week  all  the  year  round. 

"  In  the  barber's  shop  at  Kingscliffe,  Oundle, 
on  Monday,  there  were  eight  old  men  waiting 
whose  combined  ages  amounted  to  the  colossal 
figure  of  68  years." 

Nortliampton  Daily  Chrotiiclc. 

"  Shave,  please,"  cried  the  precocious 
little  fellows  in  chorus. 


"  On  the  30th  inst.,  when  they  were  shooting 
with  blank  cartridges,  most  of  them  hit  the 
mark  in  every  shot  they  fired,  while  the  rest 
weremoreor  less  successful,  to  the  great  admira- 
tion of  the  lookers  on." — Canton  Independant. 
Just  in  the  same  way  our  practice 
swing  always  drives  the  ball  200  yards 
down  the  centre  of  the  course. 


348 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[ArBir,  30,  1913. 


ROSE-TIME. 

Mr.  Ilarokl  Ilonoybunn,  of  "The 
Bullnils,"  Syringa  Lano,  Meadowsweet 
Avunue,  Surbiton,  safc  in  his  study 
surrounded  by  a  sea  of  catalogues  and 
Sunday  papers  opened  at  the  adver- 
tisement pages.  Ho  was  frowning 
portentously. 

"  What's"  the  trouble?"  asked  Mrs. 
Honeybunn,  descending  from  the 
nursery. 

"  I  'in  trying  to  decide  what  roses  to 
plant  in  the  garden,"  ho  explained. 
"  It 's  very  difficult  to  make  up  one's 
mind.  Listen  to  this,  my  dear.  '  Gold 
Medal  Eose.  Snaggs's 'Champion  of 
Europe.  The  most  sensational  rose 
ever  produced.  Its  truly  entrancing 
colour  is  a  deep  militant  orange-ver- 
milion-sunflower,  shading  to  the  most 
exquisite  tinges  of  pearly-opal  peach- 
blossom.  Guaranteed  imfadeable,  un- 
breakable, unapproachable.  Our  colours 
never  run  1  Price  29'-  a  dozen.' " 

"  It  sounds  all  right." 

"Yes;  but  listen  to  this  next  adver- 
tisement: 'Eoses.  A  world's  wonder! 
The  most  thrilling  product  of  horti- 
cultural science !  Wilks's  Glory  of  the 
Globe.  Its  colour  is  indescribably 
beautiful,  starting  with  the  tenderest 
shades  of  tropical  dawn  ;  deepening  to 
a  dreamy,  creamy,  satin-pink  salmon; 
and  then  strengthing  to  a  robust  straw- 
berry-maroon-scarlet. Its  scent  can 
only  be  compared  to  a  bouquet  of 
honeysuckle,  verbena,  heliotrope,  opo- 
ponax,  jockey  club  and  creme  de  menthe. 
Beware  of  crude  imitations  listed  by 
unscrupulous  dealers  as  unfadeable. 
We  guarantee  our  roses  as  rain-proof, 
wind -proof,  hail -proof  and  burglar - 
proof.  Price  28'-  a  dozen.  Make  it 
two  guineas,  and  we  throw  in  a  lawn- 
mower.'" 

"  Have  them  sent  on  approval,"  sug- 
gested the  practical  Mrs.  Honeybunn. 

"  They  don't  mention  '  on  approval ' 
in  the  advertisements." 

"All  the  more  reason  for  asking  for 
it." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,  I  will.  I  '11 
write  also  for  Mungo's  Guinea  Collec- 
tion of  Tip-Top  Novelties.  Listen  to 
what  you  get  for  the  guinea:  'Emperor 
of  the  Sahara,  Crown  Princess  Cecilie 
of  Hohenzollern,  Omar  Khayyam's 
Delight,  Gotterdammerung,  Eeve  des 
Amoureux,  Mrs.  Albert  Mungo,  Giuli- 
etta's  Balcony,  Butterflies'  Banquet, 
H.T.'  What  does  H.T.  mean  ?  " 

"Highly  tempting,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Honeybunn. 

"  Perhaps  so.  And  they  include  '  the 
very  extra  special,  three  star,  treble  nap 
Lloyd-Georgiana,  the  most  audaciously 
flavoured  rose  ever  produced.  These 
nine  roses  would  cost  you  three  guinea; 


:rom  any  other  dealer.  Beware  of 
mitations,  because  they  are  grown  only 
jy  ourselves  and  are  fully  protected  by 
provisional  patents.  Write  at  once, 
ind  do  it  now  ! '  .  .  .  Isn't  that  a  fine 
;ot?  The  only  one  I  don't  fancy  is 
Mrs.  Albert  Mungo.  Perhaps  they 
would  send  another  Eeve  des  Amoureux 
instead." 

"  You  might  ask.  In  any  case,  have 
;hem  sent  on  approval." 

"  I  wonder  if  they  send  roses  that 
way?"  mused  Mr.  Honeybunn,  reach- 
'ng'for  the  pen  and  ink. 

$  *        •    *  *  * 

They  didn't.    "Cash  with  order"  was 
,he  business  motto  of  Messrs.  Snaggs, 
Wilks  &  Mungo.     They  wrote  him  to 
hat  effect. 

Mr.  Honeybunn  sent  cash. 

The  two  -  and  -  threo  -  quarter-  dozen 
)lants  came  by  return  of  post. 

He  unwrapped  them  proudly  in  front 
of  Bodlin,  the  jobbing  gardener  of 
Meadowsweet  Avenue  and  vicinity. 
3odlin  carried  the  wisdom  of  ages  in 
lis  wrinkled  countenance.  Bodlin 
sniffed — a  sniff  from  which  there  was 
no  appeal. 

:l  Why,  what's  the  matter?"  faltered 
Mr.  Honeybunn.  ' 

11  Why  didn't  they  tell  me  you  was 
going   to   order  roses  ? "  returned   the 
arden  expert. 

"Why  should  I?  They're  all  ex- 
Densive,  guaranteed  roses.  This  is  a 
Snaggs's  Champion  of  Europe ;  that 
one  is  a  Glory  of  the  Globe ;  that  one 
s  a  Butterflies'  Banquet.  H.T.,"  added 
Mr.  Honeybunn  in  a  vain  effort  to 
mpress  Bodlin. 

"  You  can't  grow  them  on  this  garden 
soil — not  to  do  yourself  any  credit," 
came  the  Caesarian  decision. 

Mr.  Honeybunn's  jaw  dropped.  "Oh!" 
he  offered. 

"  You  ought  to  have  stuck  to  the 
good  old  varieties,  like  Cabbage  and 
France  and  Dorothy  Perkins.  They  're 
hardy.  These" — Bodlin  waved  them 
away  with  Napoleonic  finality — "these 
don't  suit  you.  Send  'em  back,  is  my 
advice." 

"But  I  've  bought  them." 

"You  mean  that  you  paid  for  "em 
before  you  knew  whether  they  suited?'" 

"  Yes,"  confessed  Mr.  Honeybunn. 

Bodlin  looked  worlds  of  wisdom. 

That  evening,  Amy  returned  from  a 
London  shopping  expedition  burdenec 
with  small  parcels  and  flushed  with 
success. 

"The  greatest  bargain  you've  ever 
seen  !  "  she  announced  triumphantly. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  her  husband. 

"  A  Paris  model.  Creamy-white 
with  just  a  simple  aigrette  of  salmon 
pink.  The  most  daring,  the  mos 


delicious  hat  you've  ever  seen!  At 
Vladame  Fantine's  in  Bond  Street. 
Sale  price — I  got  it  for  two  guineas ! 
They  'vo  promised  to  send  it  to- 
night," 

"  There  's  a  parcel  just  arrived — it  'a 
jeen  taken  upstairs." 

"  Then  come  and  see  me  try  it  on." 

Mr.  Honeybunn  watched  the.trying- 
on  process  with  judicial  gravity. 

11  Well?"  ; 

11  It 's  pretty  enough  in  its  way," 
answered  Mr.  Honeybunn  with  an  un- 
conscious assumption  of  the  Bodlin 
nanner,  "  but  it  doesn't  suit  you." 

"  Look  again !  " 

"  It  doesn't  suit  you,"  came  the 
Sfapoleonic  decision.  "  Send  it  back, 
s  my  advice." 

"Oh!" 

"  Of  course  it 's  not  paid  for  yet  ?  " 

"  But  it  is." 

"  You  mean  to  say  you  've  paid  for 
a  hat  before  you  knew  whether  it 
suited  you?  " 

"Yes,"  confessed  Mrs.  Honeybunn. 
'  So  you  must  go  to  Madame  Fantine's 
o-morrow  and  get  them  to  take  it 
)ack." 

:<  I  I  » 

"  You  must  say  there 's  been  a 
sudden  bereavement  in  the  family  and 
[  can't  wear  colours." 

Mr.  Honeybunn  pondered  over  this 
jrilliant  idea  for  some  moments. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  mused,  "  if  I  could 
make  the  very  same  excuse  about  the 
roses  ?  " 


AN   INSOLUBLE  PEOBLEM. 

["Women  always  expect  men  to  know  by 
instinct  what  they  are  thinking  of." — Recent 
Novel} 

DEAR,  by  fond  experience  taught, 

I  can  do  what  you  expect, 
Almost  always  read  your  thought, 

Follow  you  when  you  reflect. 
When  you  wear  a  tragic  pose 

And  a  mallet  in  your  muff, 
Well  I  know  your  thoughts  are  those 

Of  the  Pankian  Surf. 

When  I  see  your  dear  eyes  turn 

To  the  glass  above  the  grate, 
Then  I  know  you  fain  would  learn 

If  your  hair  is  still  on  straight ; 
Or  that  haply  thus  you  seek 

(Bather  anxiously)  to  know 
If  the  dimple  on  your  cheek 

Keeps  its  status  quo. 

Still  at  times  you  baffle  quite 

All  my  trained  deductive  art. 
Take,  for  instance,  yesternight, 

When  you  led  that  fatal  heart ; 
Were  your  thoughts  of  summer  dress, 

Or  the  beauty  that 's  the  bard's  ? 
This  alone  was  plain  to  guess — 

They  were  not  of  cards. 


APRIL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


319 


LORD AT     THG      Flf«T       FTNcr     at    Thg" 

PO'MT 


ftND     PARTY 
A   D/w'S      MaTOH      BOATING 


MASTER (  SON  OF  TH€  FAMOUS 

M.F.HI  FOLLOWING  IN  HIS  FATHERS 


SIR     SftMUEL    AND 


PARTICIPATE    IN     THE.    £>fLI<iHTj 
8F    THE"   (UIVK.. 


SOCIETY    SNAP-SHOTS. 

THE  CAMERA-ARTIST,  HAVING  BEEN  SUPPLIED  BY  HIS  EDITOR  BEFOREHAND  WITH  SUBJECTS  AND  TYPICAL  LEGENDS,  UXTOBTBXATELY 
FAILS  TO  SEIZE  THE  «OST  FAVOUBABI.E  MOMENTS  FOB  THEIR  ILLUSTRATION. 


3CO 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  30,  1913. 


AN   OLD   HOUSE. 
GREAT  Rome  was  raised  on  hill-tops 

seven, 

In  pomp  to  all  the  winds  of  Heaven 
Her  brazen  eagles  Hew  ; 

I  know  an  old  house  in  a  hollow, 
Its   white    walls    harled   with  good 

Scots  hailing  ; 
Here   haunts   at    dawn    the    gossip 

starling, 

Here  comes  the  first  returning  swallow 
When  skies  are  egg-shell  blue. 

Great  Rome  she  walled  eternal  glory  — 
The  fame  that  rang  in  camp  and  story 
Still  to  her  stones  belongs  ; 

The  old  house  shadows  —  quaint  and 

fragrant  — 

A  garden  famed  for  stocks  and  roses, 
Where,  when  asummereveningcloses, 
Old  borders  bloom,   half-guessed   and 
vagrant, 

Like  echoes  of  old  songs  ! 

Great   Rome    she    wardened  miles   of 

marches; 

From  Afrie's  palms  to  Albion's  larches 
Her  clamorous  trumpets  went  ; 

Here  are  for  its  sedate  controlling 
But  some  few  scores  of  sunny  acres 
Fruitful  and  fair,  content  as  Quakers, 

Spanned  in  a  Sunday  morning's  strolling 
To  the  wood-dove's  lament  ! 

Great   Rome,   high  -  hilled,    all    reads 

reached  to  her  ; 
Her  conquering  sons  who  served  and 

knew  her 

In  pomp  returned  again  ; 

The  old  house  dozes  in  its  hollow, 
Fulfilled  of  gentle  ghosts  and  graces 
Come  back    to    haunt  remembered 

places, 

As  comes  the  first  returning  swallow, 
In  sunshine  and  in  rain. 


"Mr.  A.  J.  Balfour  said  that  everybody, 
whatever  his  school  of  political  thought, 
whataver  his  political  ideals,  must  regard  with 
a  certain  anxiety  the  period  of  transition 
through  which  the  great  organ  of  the  public 
mind  was  now  passing.  He  believed  that  to 
whatever  quarter  one  turned,  to  what  ever 
authority  one  addressed  oneself,  one  would 
find  a  certain  anxiety  as  to  the  future." 

Scotsman. 

One  great  organ  of  the  public  mind  is 
certainly  passing  through  a  period  of 
transition  as  to  the  spelling  of  "  what- 
ever." We  confess  to  a  certain  anxiety 
as  to  the  future,  but  hope  for 
whatuver." 


"  A  missile  thrown  at  her  struck  a  constable 
and  a  reporter,  but  did  no  other  harm." 

Daily  Telegraph. 

We  should  have  been  quite  content 
with  the  bag  as  it  stands,  but  some 
people  arc  never  satisfied. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  THE  CAP  AND  BELLS." 
GIVEN  a  fox-hunting  Tory  Earl  with 
a  loathing  for  Limehouse ;  an  emanci- 
pated daughter,  engaged  (no  one,  not 
even  herself,  knDws  why)  to  a  feather- 
brained Duke ;  a  Suffragist-Socialist  in 
love,  against  his  principles,  with  this 
offspring  of  a  ha.ted  class  ;  and  the  end 
is  foregone.  But  the  dialogue  of  the 
First  Act  was  so  bright  and  fluent  that 
one  forgave  the  tiiteness  of  the  situation. 
For  indeed  the  idea  of  Love  as  a  solvent 
of  Socialism  must  be  almost  as  old  as 
the  earliest  red  Hag  and  has  only  recently 
been  revived  in  Mr.  OLLIVANT'S  romance, 
The  Taming  of  John  Blunt.  But  the 


Percy  Robinson  (Mr.  GODFREY  TEABLE)  to 
the  Duke  of  Dartford  (Mr.  ERIC  MATUKIN). 
"  You  may  be  a  duke  and  I  a  demagogue,  but 
when  it  comes  to  sizes  in  hats  I  'm  worth  six 
of  you." 

entertainment  fell  off,  and  towards  the 
end,  long  deferred,  grew  sadly  ema- 
ciated. Still,  as  long  as  Miss  MAUDE 
MILLETT  and  Mr.  FEED  KERB  were  on 
the  stage,  even  if  they  only  prattled 
about  the  lateness  of  the  dinner-hour, 
it  always  seemed  worth  while. 

Mr.  KEBB  as  Lord  Chislehurst  was  of 
course  in  the  very  middle  of  his  own 
delightful  preserves ;  but  Miss  MILLETT, 
most  welcome  of  returning  exiles,  shone 
in  a  mellow  light  that  was  new  to  me. 
All  the  best  cynicisms  fell  to  her  in  the 
character  of  Lady  Chislehurst,  and  she 
threw  them  off  with  so  sweet  an  air  of 
innocence  that  their  intention  was 
generally  missed  by  their  victims  and 
only  very  slowly  imbibed  by  one  of  the 
stodgiest  audiences  (I  am  not  speaking 
of  the  First  Night)  with  which  I  have 
ever  collaborated. 

Mr.    GODFREY  TEARLE,  back  in  his 


element  as  Percy  Robinson,  promoter  of 
strikes  and  terror  of  the  landed  party, 
plaved  with  a  restraint  which  went  far 
to  mitigate  the  obviousness  of  things. 
Mr.  MATURIN,  in  the  rare  figure  of  a 
young  ducal  nut,  was  pleasantly  fatuous. 
In  the  midst  of  menaces  of  a  universal 
railway  strike  and  the  defeat  of  his 
party  at  a  local  election,  like  a  true 
golfer  he  remained  unmoved,  except 
by  the  fear  that  his  game  might  be 
affected.  The  ruling  passion  was  strong 
even  in  sleep.  Waking  from  a  slight 
snooze  taken  before  dinner,  he  broke  it 
to  us  that  he  had  had  a  nightmare. 
"  I  dreamt,"  said  he,  "  that  liobinson 
had  altered  the  rules  of  golf !  "  In  this 
connection  I  must  warn  Mr.  MATURIN 
that  the  next  time  he  plays  a  golfer  he 
must  try  to  keep  his  head  from  wagging 
so  much,  if  he  doesn't  want  to  be 
suspected  of  a  handicap  of  twenty-four. 

Miss  ETHEL  WARWICK  as  the  Earl's 
daughter,  Lady  Clara  (not  Verede  Vcrc), 
had  once  more  to  play  the  part  of  a 
girl  whose  lover,  a  strong  man,  makes 
his  entrancas  by  the  window.  I  don't 
so  much  object  to  that  device,  though 
I  think  a  really  strong  man  should  be 
strong  enough  to  come  in  by  the  front 
door;  but  I  do  wish  that  one  of  Miss 
WARWICK'S  many  friends  would  urge 
her  to  do  something  with  her  voice. 
She  makes  it  like  nothing  in  nature. 
Her  artificial  intonations,  hardly  ever 
varying  their  level,  seem  to  bear  no 
sort  of  relation  to  the  thing  she  is 
saying.  To  be  frank,  she  was  largely 
to  blame  for  whatever  atmosphere  of 
improbability  the  play  had  to  struggle 
with. 

The  talk,  though  trivial  enough  at 
times,  was  never  dull,  but  there  was 
need  of  relief  in  the  matter  of  the 
excellent  scene  —  always  the  Morning 
Room  at  Lord  Chislehurst's.  The 
Duke,  who  was  apparently  living  in  the 
family,  seemed  to  be  bored  by  it  too ; 
and  you  can  easily  understand  how 
inconvenient  and  embarrassing  it  was 
for  the  demagogue  to  have  no  accommo- 
dation for  his  courtship  except  the 
bouse  of  his  natural  enemy.  The 
title,  The  Cap  and  Bells,  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  piece.  It  was 
just  the  sign  of  a  neighbouring  inn 
where  the  demagogue  put  up ;  and  he 
took  life  far  too  seriously  to  be  credited 
with  a  penchant  for  the  society  of 
professional  jesters.  But  a  hostelry 
with  a  name  like  that  might  well  be  the 
resort  of  the  author,  Mr.  VANSITTART, 
For  he  has  a  very  pleasant  wit,  and  I 
look  forward  to  making  its  better 
acquaintance  before  long.  0.  S. 


"He  also  won  the  wile  race  for  two  years 
running  at  Oxford." — Evening  News: 

Two  years  is  certainly  a  long  wile. 


APRIL  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


351 


Fellow  Guest  (10)10  has  just  told  humorous  artist  an  appalling  chestnut).  "  Aw— THOUGHT  YOU  MIGHT  ILLUSTBATE  rr,  YOU  KNOW.    IT 

HAPPENED   TO  MY  FATHER  !  " 

Artist.  "MANY  THANKS;    BUT  WHAT  MAKES  IT  EVEN  MORE  INTERESTING  is  THAT  I  MUST  HAVE  MET  TWENTY  on  Tin 

BROTHERS."  


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
The  Arnold  Lip  (MURRAY)  is  a  story  about  a  family. 
Nowadays  the  family  has  hecome  the  favourite  butt  of  the 
satirist ;  its  head  especially  has  had  inexpensive  fun  poked  at 
him  by  a  score  of  modern  novel-writers.  Mr.  C.  E.  LAWKENCE 
does  not  do  this ;  though  one  feels  that  he  would  rather 
like  to,  if  it  were  not  for  his  sense  of  fair  play.  This  same 
sense  has,  I  think,  been  the  undoing  of  the  book  as  an 
entertainment.  You  cannot  write  impartially  and  honestly 
about  dulness  without  some  danger  of  being  infected  by  it, 
and  the  Arnolds,  from  father  downwards,  were  a  dull  crew. 
The  bright  spot  of  the  family,  and  Mr.  LAWRENCE'S  pet, 
was  Hiujh,  who  left  the  too-comfortable  paternal  nest  in 
order  to  seek  life  and  adventures  of  his  own  in  reading  for 
the  Bar.  The  chief  adventure  that  befell  him  was  the 
adoption  of  the  infant  of  his  laundress's  unmarried  daughter. 
Not  unnaturally  this  worried  the  family  a  good  deal.  The 
"  Arnold  lip,"  one  may  say,  curled  significantly.  All  this 
time  old  Anthony  (Arnold  pbre,  called  "  Sir  Anthony  "  from 
his  pomposity)  was  living  the  respected  life  of  a  prosperous 
stockbroker — with  a  new  revolver  in  the  drawer  of  his 
writing-table.  The  moment  I  heard  about  that  revolver 
I  scented  financial  disaster  ahead.  Also  one  of  the  chapters 
is  called  "  Crash."  So  now  you  know.  It  is  a  moving  and 
strangely-written  chapter,  but  just  what  happens  in  it  is 
not  mine  to  say.  Mine  only  is  it  to  praise  the  sincerity  and 
restraint  of  the  story ;  though  I  admit  that  it  seems  some- 
times a  little  overburdened  by  these  good  qualities. 

The  longer  one  lives  in  London  the  less  one  knows  about 
it,  and  many  of  us  would  be  wholly  ignorant  on  the  subject 


but  for  the  tit-bits  of  information  that  we  pick  up  from 
time  to  time  from  our  country  visitors.  I  am  surprised  and 
delighted  to  find  that  the  man  who  really  does  know  all 
about  it  has  lived  there  for  twenty-five  years  at  least.  His 
name  is  Mr.  WILFRED  WRITTEN,  and  his  book,  A  Londoner's 
London  (METHUEN),  is  the  perfect  combination  of  instruction 
and  amusement — instruction,  because  in  three  hundred  odd 
pages  he  makes  the  reader  master  of  London's  geography 
and  history;  amusement,  bscause  he  has  an  anecdote  to 
tell  connected  with  every  street,  road,  square,  gardens, 
terrace,  place,  lane,  walk,  circus,  park,  gate,  green,  rye,  bee, 
town,  hill,  vale,  wood,  grove,  avenue  and  bush  in  it.  As 
may  be  gathered,  the  reminiscent  details  are  many  and  all 
must  prove  useful  to  the  practical  reader.  Thus,  when  in 
future  he  walks  with  his  godson  in  Islington,  he  may  tell 
him  that  Dalby  Terrace  was  so  called  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  the  inventor  of  the  public-house  beer-engine,  or 
when,  as  he  strolls  down  Bond  Street  with  his  smart  niece, 
he  is  asked,  "  Why  Bond  Street,  uncle  ?  "  he  may  satisfy 
her  curiosity  and  humble  her  pride  by  telling  her  that  it  is 
named  after  its  founder,  Sir  THOMAS  BOND,  who  lived  at 
Peckham.  Later  in  the  day  he  may,  over  the  wine  and 
nuts,  regale  his  delighted  guests  with  stories  about  every 
statesman,  general,  author  or  pickpocket  that  ever  frequented 
town.  My  only  complaint  against  Mr.  WHITTEN  is  that  he 
is  too  much  laiulator  temporis  acti ;  if  London  had  been 
diligently  conserved  after  the  manner  he  desires,  it  would  by 
now  be  a  moribund  antique  instead  of  a  living  entity. 
(For  myself  I  can  see  good  even  in  the  Bed  General 
Juggernaut.)  But  I  must  conclude  with  a  word  of  praise 
for  the  fact  that  he  never  once  refers  to  his  subject  as 
the  "  metropolis,"  which  shows  in  what  a  right  spirit  he 
approaches  it. 


352 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON-  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  30,  1913. 


My  information  about  the  idle  rich  seems  to  be  quite  the  purpose  of  stealing  the  plans  of  that  fussy  genius's  great 
different  from  that  which  HELEN  C.  ROBERTS,  the  authoress  Airship-Stabilizer.  How  ho  was  detected  and  exposed  by 
of  Somethhtg  New,  has  supplied  to  Messrs.  DUCKWORTH,  breezy  Wickliff  Hcrsham,  from  Buenos  Ayres,  is  the  theme 
Largely  because  of  an  accidental  encounter  with  a  London !  of  Mr.  MCCARTHY'S  book.  If  there  is  one  type  of  novel 
holiday  crowd  at  a  railway  terminus  the  thoughts  of  Teresa  !  for  which  I  have  a  special  weakness  it  is  the  novel  which 
Ilarliiig  are  turned  towards  a  consideration  of  the  unknown  '  deals  with  melodrama  in  terms  of  light  comedy.  I  cannot 
lives  of  the  poor,  and  happening  to  meet  her  first  cousin,  J  imagine  Wickliff  Ilersham  being  anything  but  genially 
also  named  Teresa,  whose  father  and  mother  are  supposed, :  flippant,  even  if  he  were  being  lynched  by  an  excited 
erroneously  of  course,  to  have  neglected  the  marriage  cere-  \  populace,  and  he  handles  the  situation  in  which  he  finds 
mony,  she  decides  to  spend  a  winter  at  the  home  of  this  himself  in  this  book  with  a  perfectly  delightful  humour.  If 
out-at-elbows  relation  in  a  little  lodging-house  at  the  |  this  story  is  a  sample  of  what  Mr.  MCCARTHY  can  do  when 
unfashionable  watering-place  of  Bramsea.  Amongst  the  j  he  leaves  cloaks  and  swords  and  comes  for  inspiration  to 
quaint  lower-middle-class  people  whom  she  meets  there,  j  the  twentieth  century,  I  hope  that  he  will  continue  in  the 
but  more  especially  through  the  influence  of  Oliver  Marvis, :  modern  vein.  Calling  the  Tune  opens  with  the  words, 
unsuccessful  artist  but  excellent  boat-builder,  she  gains  a ; "  Gee !  This  is  bully!"  The  sentence  would  make  an 
fresh  insight  into  the  meaning  of  life  and  love,  and  breaks  excellent  condensed  criticism  of  the  novel, 
off  her  engagement  to  a  worldly  and  self-centred  man. 

On  page  208  of  The  Beacon-Watchers   (CHAPMAN  AND 

HALL),  when  the  hero  is 
embracing   the    heroine, 
with 


we  are  told  that 
his  other  hand  he  kissed 
away  her  tears."  I  quote 
this  remarkable  passage 
because  its  effect  upon 
me  was  very  nearly  to 
make  me  lose  interest 
in  the  fate  of  the  couple; 
which  I  should  have 
regretted,  because  theirs 
is  not  only  an  unconven- 
tional story  but  has  been 
told  by  Miss  VIOLET  A. 
SIMPSON  in  a  style  suffi- 
ciently engaging  to  ex- 
cuse such  little  lapses 
as  the  one  above.  She 
has  especially  the  gift  of 
beginning;  the  dialogue 
in  her  opening  chapter 
is  a  model  for  the  stimu- 
lation of  interest.  The 
story  is  one  rather  of 
character  than  events, 
and  almost  all  the 
characters  are  well 
Mrs.  Frcnant,  the  woman  who  sacrifices  every- 


The story  is  exceedingly  well  told,  and  if  Teresa  Hurting 
herself  does  not  leave  a 
very  clear  -  cut  image 
several  of  the  minor 
characters  stand  out  con- 
spicuously enough.  The 
authoress  is  also  to  be 
congratulated  for  omit- 
ting to  give  her  hero  a 
share  in  the  life -boat 
rescue  which  quite  pro- 
perly breaks  in  upon 
the  drab  hibernation  of 
Bramsea's  activities. 
But  in  what  coign  of 
luxurious  calm  did  Miss 
Hartirrg  resida  in  these 
days  of  well-organised 
charity,  that  the  habits 
and  thoughts  of  the 
people  were  so  unfa- 
miliar to  herself  and  to 
her  friends  ?  The  fiance 
of  her  sister  Zoe,  a  dis- 
tressingly cold  -  hearted 
mondaine,  is  killed  in  a 
motor  accident,  and  by 
every  other  sign  the 
period  of  the  story  is 

the  present  moment.     The  suggestion  of  so  many  cultured  ,  drawn, 
people,  not  one  of  whom  dabbles,  even  as  a  form  of  self- 


STUDIES  IN  CRIMINOLOGY. 

A   FATHER   OP  A   FAMILY  DEFRAUDS   A   BAILTVAY   COMPACT. 


indulgence,  in  good  works,  gives  to  the  novel  an  air  of 
aloofness  from  fact. 


One  of  Mr.  Punch's  contemporaries  publishes  each  week 
photographs  of  men  and  women  who  have  accomplished 
remarkable  feats,  under  the  heading,  "  People  to  whom  we 
take  off  our  hat."  I  would  strongly  advocate  the  immediate 
inclusion  in  this  series  of  Mr.  J.  HUNTLY  MCCARTHY  "  for 


thing  to  her  unpractical  husband;  Sara,  her  daughter, 
the  central  figure  of  the  love  theme;  and  Starkey,  the 
dwarf  chemist,  whose  devotion  to  these  two  twice  brings 
him  within  measurable  distance  of  wilful  murder — all 
are  individuals.  Perhaps  more  than  any,  though,  I 
liked  her  whom  one  might  call  the  villain,  poor  Mrs. 
Bultele,  fighting  for  her  churlish  son  against  long  odds 
of  sympathy.  These  are  but  four  out  of  a  crowd  whose 

_  ,„„.   acquaintance  you  will  find  worth  making.     Miss  SIMPSON 

f  th«     'f-fi     T  *         ?  Pagf '  an d-n°t  Vlu11  °ne  has'  in  shorfc'  written  a  tale  distinctly  above  the  average, 

amone  tliem.  With    On  V   fnnr   nhnrnnfovo    in    if  "       TUn  ««t:»^ i-i     _          i -i    i  J... 


mon    rm   ™-H  f  '          •    ,        , 

among  them,  with  only  four  characters  in  it.       The  entire 

action  of  Calling  the  Tune  (HURST  AND  BLACKETT)  is  sus- 
tained by  Wickliff  Hershcmi,  Gregory  Winbush,  his  daughter 
Gondoline  and  the  young  gentleman  who  called  himself 
Charles  Trevor.  Charles  was  "  a  fine  specimen  of  a  sturdy, 
well-set-up,  healthy,  vigorous  young  Englishman,  moulded 
on  the  pattern  that  has  helped  to  make  our  island  what  it 
Why,  then,  in  a  moment  of  sudden  emotion,  did  he, 
who  stated  proudly  that  "English  was  good  enough  for 
him,  all  round  the  clock  and  every  time,"  exclaim,  "  Gott  in 
Htmmell"?  Yes,  you  are  right.  Charles  was  really  a 
German  spy,  and  he  frequented  Mr.  Winbush' s  house  for 


which  would  have  been  even  better  with  more  care.  This, 
for  example,  might  have  prevented  her  from  marrying  off 
an  elderly  governess  to  a  suitor  who  was  a  house-master  at 
Rugby  and  "  means  to  have  a  school  of  his  own  now,"  a 
statement  that  displays  some  unfamiliarity  with  the  niceties 
of  scholastic  precedence. 


To  Music. 

O  Music,  in  thy  heavenly  state  possessed 
Of  all  the  charms  that  soothe  the  savage  breasS, 
Now  art  thou  governed  by  a  devilish  aim — 
The  minds  of  cultured  mortals  to  inflame. 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


353 


CHARIVARIA. 

A  MOVEMENT,  we  hear,  is  on  foot  to 


and  asserted  that  good  verbal  puns 
were  usually  only  made  in  the  Scotch 
universities.  As  this  statement  is  cal- 


prosont  medals  to  those  veterans  who  !  ciliated  to  do  serious  harm  to  Oxford 
have  been  on  the  Marconi  Committee   University,  which  is  the  headquarters 


since  its  inception. 

*  * 

Among  the  proposals  for  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  centenary  of  peace  between 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  : 


of  the  Spoonerism  industry,  an  official 
rejoinder  will,  we  hoar,  shortly  be 
issued.  .,.  .,. 

'  -;; ' 

A   pigeon   has  mado    its   nest   in  a 


of   America   is   a   suggestion   that    an '  corner  of  one  of  the  main  girders  in 
effigy  of  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  should! the  roof  of  St.  James'  Park  Station  on 
bo   set    up    in  Westminster 
Abbey.     He  it  was,  you  will 
remember,  who  could  not  tell 
a  lie.    These  historical  monu- 
ments are  useful  as  records 
by  which  to  mark  the  subse- 
quent Progress  of  Man. 

V 

Another  suggestion  is  that, 
on  the  day  when  the  centen- 
ary is  complete,  every  wheel 
of  traffic  shall  stop  for  some 
few  minutes.  Conversation 
would  be  discouraged,  and  it 
is  specially  hoped  that  dur- 
ing this  interval  of  silent 
reflection  all  talk  of  a  war 
over  the  question  of  the  Pa- 
nama would  be  temporarily 
abandoned. 


*  * 

* 

"A  man,"  said  Sir  WILLIAM 
BYLES  at  Whitefield's  Taber- 
nacle, "left  £10,000,000  the 
other  day.  I  would  not  allow 
it."  In  justice  to  the  late 
plutocrat  wo  think  it  ought 
to  have  been  said  that  he 
didn't  want  to  leave  it. 

*  * 

Henceforth,  Mr.  HERBEET 
SAMUEL  has  announced, 
"  King's  Cross  "  and "  Charing 
Cross  "  are  to  be  counted  as 
one  word  in  telegrams.  A 
boom  in  house  property  is 
confidently  anticipated  in 
these  localities. 

*  * 
Passengers  as  well  as  letters 

are  to  be  carried  in  a  motor 

mail-van   which    serves   a   number  of  the    District    Railway.       This    is    an 

villages  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ash-  interesting    extension   of   "  Wild    Life 

ford,  Kent.     Suffragettes  are  requested  j  on  the  Underground,"  which  is  now 

to  declare  themselves  on  applying  for 

seats. 


««•>*. 


A  TERRIBLE  THREAT. 


Referee  (toward  Hie  close  of  a  20  rounds  contest].  "Ip  YOU  TWO 

DON'T  STAND  UP  AND  BOX  I  'LL  ORDEK  YOU  BOTH  OUT  OP  THE  niKG." 


*    * 

* 


The  sanction  of  the  Senate  of  the 
University  of  Durham  has  now  been 
given  to  the  proposed  new  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Commerce.  The  letters 
B.C.  after  one's  name  should  be  a 
guarantee  of  up-to-date  intelligence. 
*  * 

The  Rev.  A.  MANSFIELD,  lecturing 
at  the  Camera  Club,  denied  that  Scots- 
men were  deficient  in  a  sense  of  humour, 


no  longer  confined  to  rabbits  and  strap- 
hangers. 


*  * 


During   the   heavy  rains   last  week 


persons  got  their  knife  into  the  Royal 
Academy  ?  A  clever  poster  by  Mr. 
TONY  SAUO,  just  issued  by  the  Under- 
ground Railway,  bears  the  inscription : — 

AT    THK  "KOY.U,    ACADF.MY 
HUMOUUS    OF    L)NI)ON        Nj.    5. 

"The  Postmen's  Academy,"  we  read, 
"is  now  open."  \\<-  cannot  praise 
ourselves  too  highly  for  refraining  from 
making  any  reference  in  this  connection 
to  Post-Impressionism.  Such  self- 
restraint  is  none  too  common 
nowadays. 

Locks  of  hair  from  the 
heads  of  MILTON,  SWIFT, 
and  Dr.  JOHNSON  were  sold 
at  SoTHF.jiv's  last  week,  but 
fetched  such  low  prices  that 
the  little  bunch  which  we 
were  saving  up  for  our 
posterity  is  going  into  a 
pillow  to-morrow. 

HELP  TO  FILL  THE 

SPACE. 

I. — THE  MARRYING  TWINS. 
A  MOST  extraordinary  event 
has  lately  occurred,  of  which 
no  reader  of  the  daily  press 
can  afford  to  be  ignorant. 
Two  brothers  who  are  twins 
have  just  married  two  sisters. 
The  sisters  wore  not  twins,  it 
is  true ;  had  they  been  we 
doubt  if  either  ourselves  or 
any  other  morning  paper  of 
the  capital  of  the  world  could 
have  so  controlled  our  excite- 
ment as  to  come  out  at  all ; 
but  the  bridegrooms  were 
twins  and  the  brides  were 
sisters,  and  that  is  sufficient 
for  one  day.  Anyone  looking 
at  the  photographs  of  the 
happy  quartette  which  are 
scattered  over  to-day's  press 
will  see  in  a  moment  that  the 
brothers,  although  twins,  are 
not  in  the  least  alike,  except 
in  the  possession  of  the  same 
surname ;  but  that,  again,  is  perhaps  as 
well.  Had  they  been  really  alike  we 
could  not  have  answered  for  the  effect 
on  our  excitable  staff.  But  there  it  is ; 
two  brothers,  twins,  who  are  not  a  bit 
alike,  have  married  two  sisters  on  the 
same  day,  in  the  same  church,  and  the 


a  Mexican  loan  was  floated  in  London. '  world  had  to  be  told  all  about  it. 


Moustaches,  we  learn  from  The  Daily 


From  a  testimonial  to  a  furniture- 


Mail,  are  returning  into  fashion.   Many  remover  • 

which  have  been  in  cold  storage  forj  ..j  roaily  must  thank  you  for  the  highly 
years  at  the  furriers'  are  now  being  satisfactory  manner  in  which  you  removed  us 
claimed  by  depositors.  hero.  Not  a  think  was  injured." 

*...*  A   most  satisfactory  thought-transfer- 

Why,    we    wonder,   have    so    many  ence. 


VOL.    CXI. IV. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARL^ 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


TO    RICHARD,    A    MINOR    POET; 

ON   THE   REMOVAL   OP   HIS   APPENDIX. 

NATURE,  I  note,  is  good  at  compensation ; 

When  she  denies  a  sense  or  lops  a  limb, 
The  others,  more  alert  for  that  privation, 

Often  acquire  a  most  amazing  vim  ; 
Thus,  while  a  bat  incurs  some  disabilities 

From  want  of  vision  (being  rather  blind), 
His  ears  and  sense  of  touch  enjoy  facilities 
Of  an  unusual  kind. 

I  know  a  futurist  who  painted  pictures 

Not  lit  to  hang  upon  a  clothes-line  peg  ; 
It  pricked  my  heart,  and  would,  I  know,  have 

pricked  yours,' 

To  see  him  at  it.     Well,  he  lost  a  leg, 
One  of  his  best,  and  now  since  that  bereavement 

His  nether  powers  have  passed  into  his  head, 
And  soon  he  looks  to  compass  great  achievement, 
Painting  the  B.A.  red. 

So  you,  my  Eichard,  you  whose  current  plight  is 
A  source  of  grave  regret  to  loyal  friends, 

May  from  your  bout  of  rude  appendicitis 
Emerge  a  poet  shaped  to  ampler  ends ; 

Indeed,  I  think  to  see  herein  a  special 
Providence  acting  from  a  kindly  heart, 

Since,  as  I  hope,  your  trivial  loss  of  flesh  '11 
Go  to  the  gain  of  Art. 

I  like  to  feel  that  this  corporeal  pruning, 

Which  seems  at  first  to  outrage  Nature's  plan, 
May  serve  the,  spirit's  higher  needs  by  tuning 
Your  soul  to  something  which  will  rhyme  and 

scan ; 
Better,  we  say,  to  miss  a  mere  appendix 

If  from  the  ruins  rise  a  purer  strain 
As  of  a  young  and  blithe  canary,  when  Dick  's 

Back  at  his  lamp  again.  0.  S. 

In  further  illustration  of  the  above  theme,  see  picture  on  p.  358. 


NOT   CEICKET. 

IN  common  with  many  other  clubs,  we  of  the  Ditchling- 
ton  C.  C.  commence  our  season  with  a  trial  match — Married 
v.  Single,  or  Probables  v.  Possibles,  or  something  of  the 
sort. 

It  has  always  been  a  dull  affair  at  the  best,  and  this 
year,  with  so  much  adverse  criticism  in  the  air  and  so 
much  talk  of  the  need  of  brighter  cricket,  we  were 
particularly  anxious  to  render  the  match  more  attractive. 
But  nobody  had  any  ideas. 

However,  we  got  our  brighter  cricket  all  right.  This, 
briefly,  is  what  happened. 

All  the  buckles,  we  found,  had  been  removed  from  the 
club  pads. 

A  quantity  of  plaster  of  Paris  had  been  placed  in  the 
wicket-keeper's  gloves.  As  usual,  he  held  his  hands  under 
the  tap  before  putting  on  the  gloves,  and  the  latter  had 
subsequently  to  be  removed  with  the  aid  of  a  chisel. 

The  new  ball  exploded  with  terrific  force  the  first  time 
it  struck  the  ground. 

The  bowling  screens  collapsed  simultaneously,  revealing 
a  number  of  scurrying  females  and  two  large  flags  inscribed 
"  Votes  for  Women !  " 

And  then  we  had  to  abandon  the  game  and  rush  to 
extinguish  the  fire  in  the  pavilion. 


HOW    TO    STIMULATE    PLAY-GOING. 

SIB, — To  my  mind  the  solution  of  this  problem  will  be 
found  in  the  movement  towards  the  fusion  of  audience  and 
actors  so  well  begun  by  Professor  REINHARDT,  and  continued 
by  the  managements  of  our  popular  Eevues.  Instead,  how- 
ever, of  confining  the  artistes  to  a  few  isolated  processions 
through  the  stalls,  let  them  be  encouraged  to  mingle  freely 
with  the  spectators.  The  knowledge  that  certain  seats 
in — say — the  Dress  Circle  would  carry  with  them  the 
privilege  of  a  heart-to-heart  talk  with  the  heroine  over  the 
problems  of  the  play,  should  do  much  to  stimulate  bookings. 
Moreover,  let  the  system  already  followed  at  the  Duke  of 
York's  during  Peter  Pan  time  be  carried  to  its  logical  con- 
clusion— bring  every  part  of  the  theatre  into  the  picture. 
Thus,  during  a  cowboy  or  highwayman  drama,  attendants, 
properly  attired,  might  demand  sixpences  for  programmes 
at  the  point  of  the  pistol.  At  the  bars  fire-water  might  be 
sold  under  similar  conditions.  After  all,  the  change  would 
not  bo  very  great,  and  the  effect  would  be  enormous. 

Yours,  etc.,         ALL  THE  WORLD  A  STAGE. 

SIR, — Look  at  the  matter  from  a  practical  and  common- 
sense  point  of  view.  Why  do  the  public  flock  year  after 
year  to  our  great  Summer  exhibitions?  To  contemplate 
pyramids  of  somebody's  soap,  or  to  investigate  the  mysteries 
of  native  crafts?  No,  Sir;  what  draw  the  real  crowds  are 
such  attractions  as  the  Eazzle-Dazzle  or  the  Bumpety-Bang. 
In  other  words,  the  certainty  of  personal  discomfort  and 
the  probability  of  actual  damage.  Let  us  then  apply  this 
principle  to  theatre-goings.  Some  of  our  present  establish- 
ments, it  is  true,  go  a  certain  way  in  this  respect ;  but  more 
could  be  done.  For  example,  let  some  mechanical  arrange- 
ment bo  fitted  to  the  seats,  so  that  (in  addition  to  flying 
up,  as  now,  and  letting  down  the  unwary  occupant  who  has 
risen  to  let  others  pass — an  excellent  idea  of  its  kind)  they 
may  at  uncertain  intervals  fling  the  spectators  into  the  air  or 
otherwise  maltreat  them.  Sow  the  auditorium  with  barbed 
wire  and  electric  shocks ;  conceal  tacks  in  the  cushions,  and 
install  water-sprinklers  in  the  most  unexpected  places.  You 
will  find  that,  so  treated,  the  most  unlucky  theatre  will  pay 
handsome  dividends.  Yours,  etc.,  MARTYR. 

P.S. — I  see  I  have  not  suggested  that  the  refreshment 
served  at  the  bars  might  be  worse  and  more  expensive.  It 
is  useless  to  hope  for  this. 

SIB, — What  is  wanted  in  theatres  is  more  for  the  money. 
Let  the  prices  remain  the  same,  but  the  performance  com- 
mence at  six  instead  of  eight,  and  last  till  midnight.  Thus, 
with  shorter  intervals,  room  would  be  found  for  the  inclusion 
of  certainly  two,  and  perhaps  three,  long  plays  and  a  front- 
piece.  We  hear  a  great  deal  of  the  number 'of  master- works 
that  never  see  the  footlights ;  my  suggestion  would  give 
everybody  a  chance.  Yours  hopefully,  AUTHOR  OF  SIXTY. 

SIR, — Nothing  puts  me  into  a  worse  temper  than  to  see 
people  smoking,  eating,  or  (especially)  drinking  on  the  stage, 
when  I  in  the  audience  want  to  and  can't.  I  am  convinced 
that  the  failure  of  many  modern  plays  is  due  to  the  jealousy 
and  irritation  caused  by  this.  Fortunately  the  remedy  is 
simple.  Make  the  spectators  in  the  truest  sense  participants ; 
let  no  meal,  drink,  or  cigarette  be  consumed  upon  the  stage 
without  similar  refreshment  being  simultaneously  offered 
to  the  house.  Indifference  will  then  be  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Yours,  A  PRACTICAL  MAN. 

SIR, — To  make  play-going  agreeable  the  extract  from  the 
LORD  CHAMBERLAIN'S  Eegulations  should  be  altered  to  "the 
safety-curtain  will  be  lowered  once  at  the  commencement 
of  the  performance,  and  remain  down  to  the  end." 

Yours,  etc.,         CYXICUS. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAY  7,   1913. 


ROAD    BLOCKED. 

THE  MONTENEGRIN  BANTAM.  "YOU    GO    EOUND    ME    IE   YOU    CAN,    AND    OVER   ME   IF   YOU 
DARE  1 " 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


357 


Broil-it  (to  Jones,  whom  he  has  not  met  since  Oxford  days).  "  MABBIED  ?    BATHEB  1    MY  WIFE  'a  JUST  ISSIDE  THEBE.    WE  'VE  BEEN 

MAKKIED  FOB  TWO  YE  ADS." 

Jones.  "KEALLY!    Two  YEABS!    THEK  I  SITPPOSE  IT'S  BATHEB  TOO  LATE  FOB  COXGBATULATIOXS." 


MEMOIR    OF    A    CELEBRATED    JOKE. 


I  WAS  a  youngster  of  eighteen  or  twenty-two 
When,  I  remember,  the  Joke  had  its  birth ; 

Now  there  are  other  jokes,  good  ones  and  plenty  too, 
Eaising  their  merited  tribute  of  mirth ; 

But  this  particular  Joke,  by  the  merriment 
Which  it  evoked  during  week  after  week, 

Proved  itself  more  than  a  jesting  experiment — 
It  was  unique. 

Those  were  the  days  when  the  heavy  tragedian 
Drew  the  big  pay  and  the  popular  cheer  ; 

Nothing  was  thought  of  the  merry  comedian — • 
He  was  considered  the  smallest  of  beer. 

Then  came  the  Joke ;  the  comedian's  salary 
Eose  at  a  bound  with  his  palpable  hit ; 

Night  after  night  he  drew  shrieks  from  the  gallery, 
Eoars  from  the  pit. 

Well  it  is  known  that,  as  fast  as  the  ferry  can 

Cross  the  Atlantic,  our  national  japes 
Forthwith  are  seized  by  the  ruthless  American 

Journals  and  published  in  different  shapes. 
So  with  the  Joke ;  sheer  insanity  was  it  or 

Midsummer  madness  that  folk  were  beguiled  ? 
Anyhow,  even  the  weary  compositor 
Wearily  smiled. 

Europe  was  merged  in.  a  flood  of  hilarity  ; 

Paris  became  something  gayer  than  gay  ; 
Spaniards  approved  It  and  out  of  their  chanty 

Told  It  to  Moors  who  live  over  the  way ; 


Eussia  and  Turkey  enjoyed  It ;  like  phosphorus 

Flaming  in  brilliance  and  frothy  as  yeast, 
It  was  transported  right  over  the  Bosphorua 
Into  the  East. 

Onward  it  sped  to  the  isles  of  the  Andaman 
(Spirits  and  health  of  the  convicts  improved), 

On  to  Japan,  too,  where  even  so  grand  a  man 
As  the  Mikado  was  visibly  moved ; 

Passed  through  the  deserts  of  desolate  Tartary, 
Welcome  it  found  in  Canton  and  Amoy, 

Lightened  the  business  of  traffic  and  bartery — 
Made  it  a  joy. 

So  the  whole  world  was  convulsed — till  a  bigger  or 
Mirthfuller  pleasantry  rose  in  its  place. 

Now,  when  I  tell  the  Joke,  never  a  snigger  or 
Chuckle  engages  the  listener's  face ; 

But  in  a  style  that  is  highly  censorial 

Someone  says,  "  Chestnut  1 "  and  few  will  agree 

That  It  deserved  even  this  for  memorial, 
Written  by  me. 

So  the  young  jokes  in  their  present  prosperity 
Must  not  suppose  that  their  glory  will  last ; 

It  is  their  doom  to  be  mocked  by  posterity, 
Flung  to  the  Limbo  of  jokes  of  the  past ; 

Yet  to  have  lived  for  a  season  so  sportively, 
Though  at  the  end  you  may  cumber  the  earth, 

Better  this  fate  than  to  perish  abortively, 
Strangled  at  birth. 


358 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


THE  VERSATILITY  CHAMPION. 

ALTHOUGH  August  is  still  far  distant 
The  Daily  Graphic,  taking  time  by  the 
fetlock,  lias  put  forth  one  of  those 
engaging  feelers  which  usually  do  not 
obtrude  until  the  silly  season  is  born. 
Who,  it  asks  its  many  readers,  is  the 
most  versatile  man  ? 

The  following  letter,  expressing  very 
reasonably  and,  wo  think,  convincingly, 
the  claims  of  Mr.  C.  K.  SHORTER,  the 
well-known  litterateur  ajjd  Editor  of 
The  Sphere,  seems  to  have  come  to  our 
office  by  mistake;  but  it  is  so  readable 
and  to  the  point  that  we  make  no 
apology  for  having  appropriated  it : — 
LITERATURE  AND  ATHLETICS. 

SIR,— Allow  me  to  tell  you  once  for 
all  who  is  the  most  versatile  man  living. 
It  is  Mr.  SHORTER,  as 
I  will  proceed  to  demon- 
strate. 

Born  in  1780,  Mr. 
CLEMENT  KING  SHORTER 
was  just  old  enough  to 
provide  the  pennies  (re- 
quired in  those  days  by 
the  myrmidons  of  the 
death  chamber)  to  close 
the  eyes  of  Dr.  JOHNSON 
("the  great  lexico- 
grapher," as  Mr.SHORTER 
often  brightly  calls  him). 

Passing  to  France  for 
his  early  education,  Mr. 
SHORTER    became    inti- 
mate with  the  Encyclo- 
paedists,    and     so     fre- 
quently  put  them  right 
on  small  but  not  unim- 
portant matters  that  his 
lodging    near    the    Sor- 
bonne  became    a   house 
of    call    for    all     scholars    of    what- 
ever   grade.       At     the     outbreak    of 
the  Revolution  Mr.  SHORTER  left  for 
Weimar,  where  he  acquired  that  know- 
ledge of  the  German  tongue  which  has 
made    him   justly   famous;     and   was 
instrumental     in    adding     many    fine 
passages  to  the  works  of  GOETHE,  who 
often  expressed  the  opinion,  to  ECKER- 
MANN  and  others,  that  but   for   CLEM 
(as   he  called  his  English   friend)  he 
would  not  be  where  he  was. 

During  this  time  Mr.  SHORTER'S 
other  activities  were  immense,  for  he 
has  never  believed  in  brain  work  alone. 
"  Hens  sana  in  corpore  sano,"  he  fre- 
quently quotes,  and  it  is  not  a  mere 
idle  phrase  either.  As  an  oarsman,  a 
fives  player,  a  fencer  and  a  duellist  with 
pistol  he  was  held  in  the  highest 
esteem.  Yet  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
mention  his  Newdigate  and  his  Nobel 
prizes,  both  of  which  he  took  when  still 
in  his  teens ;  more  to  the  point  is  it, 
since  we  are  on  the  topic  of  versatility, 


to  draw  attention  to  his  remarkable 
influence  on  both  BEETHOVEN  and 
ALFRED  MYNN  and  his  amazing  asso- 
ciation with  GEORGE  STEPHENSON,  re- 
sulting in  the  construction  of  the  first 
locomotive. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  SHORTER  always 
found  time  for  literary  friends,  and 
SHELLEY,  BYRON  and  WORDSWORTH 
could  never  see  enough  of  him.  With 
NELSON  ho  sailed  several  times,  and 
it  was  by  his  advice  that  the  great 
admiral,  on  becoming  a  peer,  added 
BRONTE  to  his  title.  NAPOLEON  he  also 
knew,  but  somehow — the  fault  either 


Fitz,"  as  his  boon  companions  called 
him),  and  Mr.  MAX  PEMBERTON,  J.P., 
—known,  and  very  properly,  as  "  The 
Eevue  King." 


All 


fish 


SHORTER'S  net. 


that     comes 
He  found  it 


Mr. 
easy 


to  be  witty  with  WHISTLER  as  senten- 
tious with  TUPPEH  ;  and  on  his  week- 
end walks  through  Wales  with  GEOUGE 
BORROW  he  kept  up  his  end  with  spirit, 
and  few  were  the  tinmen  he  did  not 
fight  or  the  gipsy  girls  he  did  not 
chivalrously  befriend. 

Having   for   many   years    taken    all 
knowledge  for  his  province  Mr.  SHORTER 


of  NAPOLEON  or  Mr.  SHORTER,  no  one  .  naturally  has  not  had  so  much  time  for 


ever  quite  knew  which — they  did  not 
get  on  very  well.  Mr.  SHORTER,  how- 
ever, bore  no  malice,  and  when,  much 
later  in  life,  after  a  delightful  first  visit 


THE  WONDERS  OP  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

THIS   DOG,   NOT  HAVING  A  TAIL  TO  WAG   TO   SHOW  HIS  JOY  AT  HIS   MASTER'S 
EETUBN,   HAS   DEVELOPED  A  BEMABKABLE  POWEB   OF  FACIAL  EXPEESSION. 

to  Spain  in  1913 — for  he  has  always 
been  an  indefatigable  and  daring  tra- 
veller— he  spent  a  few  hours  in  St. 
Helena,  he  was  heard  to  remark, 
thoughtfully,  on  regaining  his  vessel 
(the  one,  by  the  way,  with  which  he 
won  the  America  Cup),  "  A  great  little 
man  !  A  great  little  man  !  " 

Nor  did  he  allow  his  comparative 
failure  with  NAPOLEON  to  prejudice  him 
in  any  way  against  the  French.  On  the 
contrary,  he  maintained  relations  of  the 
greatest  cordiality  with  DUMAS,  HUGO, 
GEORGE  SAND,  LAMARTINE  and  MAR- 
GUERITE ANDOUX  ;  and  this,  be  it  re- 
membered, often  at  times  when  England 
and  France  were  anything  but  friendly. 

CERVANTES,  of  course,  he  never  met, 
but  nothing  but  the  iron  hand  of  time 
could  have  kept  them  apart.  In  Eng- 
land, such  has  been  the  catholicity  of 
Mr.  SHORTER'S  sympathies  that  he  has 
•been  intimate  with  such  different  men 
of  genius  as  Lord  MACAULAY,  the  fasti- 
dious EDWARD  FITZGERALD  (or  "  Old 


versatility  as  in  the  earlier  phases  of 
his  remarkable  and  stimulating  career, 
but  he  still  drives  off  tlie  tee  with  an 
accuracy  and  power  equalled  only  in  a 
dream  of  JOHN  BALL;  still 
swims  a  stretch  of  the 
Thames  near  Nine  Elms, 
equal  in  length  to  the 
width  of  the  Hellespont, 
every  morning  when  he  is 
in  town ;  still  flies  daily 
between  his  home  and  his 
office  in  an  airship  named 
"  Clement-Bayard  "  after 
himself ;  while  in  this 
very  year  he  is  confident 
of  again,  and  for  the  third 
time,  carrying  off  the  blue 
ribbon  of  the  Turf  by 
winning  the  Derby  with 
Celtic  Fringe.  His  sen- 
sational capture  of  the 
Shorterhouse  Stakes  at 
Newmarket  five  yeara 
ago  was  the  wonder  of 
the  world. 

When  it  is  added  that 
Mr.  SHORTER'S  Literary 
Letter  in  The  Sphere  is  dictated  by  him 
every  week  simultaneously  in  thirteen 
languages  ;  that  he  can  cook  an  omelette 
with  the  best  and  is  the  amateur  billiard 
champion  of  the  Giants  Causeway,  I 
have  perhaps  said  enough. 
Yours,  etc., 

ONE  WHO  KNOWS. 


In     connection 
SECRETARY'S  "  Cat 


with     the     HOME 
and  Mouse  "  Bill, 


we  understand  that,  for  the  convenience 
of  visitors  to  Holloway  and  other  gaols, 
there  will  be  notice-boards  put  up  at  the 
entrance,  just  as  they  have  them  at  resi- 
dential flats,  giving  the  names  of  militant 
prisoners,  and  against  each  name  the 
alternative  words  IN  and  OUT. 


"  THE  BUDGET 
0,000  MOBE  NEEDED. 
YET  NO  FBESH  TAXATION." 

Christian  World. 


Marvellous ! 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


359 


Ml' SINGS    FROM    MOBECAMBE 

\Vi:  have  received  a  letter  from 
correspondent  who  lias  had  tho  goo< 
CoHuno  to  attend  t!io  Competitive 
Musical  Festival  at  Morecamho.  He 
is  full  of  admiration  of  tho  prodigies  o: 
musical  valour  achieved  by  infan 
hoys,  girls  and  adults,  whether  individ- 
ually or  collectively,  for  tho  patience  ol 
adjudicators,  and  the  splendid  results 
of  a  movement  which  will  always 
:isso;:ial(!d  with  the  name  of  tho  late 
MARV  WAKEFIKLD.  Yet  he  cannot  resist 
the  temptation  of  indulging  in  a  little 
criticism  in  tho  form  of  suggestions  for 
a  series  of  supplementary  prizes  on  tho 
following  linos : — 

Prize  I. — For  the  adjudicator  who 
gives  his  award  with  tho  minimum  ol 
superfluous  comment  and  irrelevant 
facetiousness. 

Prize  II. — For  the  composer  of  a 
now  madrigal  or  part  song  which  is 
not  suggestive  of  an  equal  admixture  of 
treacle  and  olives. 

Prize  III. — For  the  referee  in  the 
tenor  solo  competition  who  listens  to 
more  than  fifteen  competitors  with  the 
least  loss- of  equanimity. 

Prize  IV. — For  the  conductor  who 
thinks  more  of  poetry  than  pitch. 

Prize  V. — For  any  song-writer  who 
will  set  to  appropiato  music  a  lyric 
more  futile  than  tho  following : — 

BOBBY'S    SECRET. 
"  Nursie  told  me  this  morning 
Something  *hat  made  me  feel  sore, 
For  nursie  said  that,  unless  I  wed, 
I  should  dio  an  old  bachelor! 
Now  I  've  a  secret  I  '11  tell  to  you, 
Though  it  makes  mo  feel  rather  bluo  : 
I  don't  love  anyone  but  my  granny, 
And  site's  already  Mrs.  Mulvar.ey, 
So  that,  only  for  grandpa,  don't  you  see, 
Why,  granny  might  have  waited  for  mo  !  " 


FINANCE    AND   FASHION. 

(A  note  on  1913,  specially  contributed 

by  our  Bond  Street  Bull.) 
THE  man  in  the  street,  they  tell  me, 
is  already  not  a  little  tired  of  Parlia- 
mentary Committees  and  the  evidence 
of  bankers  and  brokers.  What  then? 
In  tho  butterfly  world  of  fashion  is  no 
such  boredom.  Everywhere  the  vogue 
of  tho  City  continues  to  reign  supreme. 
Spring  has  come,  and  Marconey  Seal 
muffs  and  Bear  coverings  are  of  course 
being  laid  aside.  But  all  through  this 
balmy  month  tho  wireless  noto  will 
predominate  in  my  lady's  modes  et 
robes.  Hats  are  being  worn  with  the 
tail  feather  of  the  lyre-bird  for  a  plume, 
UK-  hitter  usually  taking  tho  form  of  a 
large  interrogation  mark.  Gowns  will 
be  cut  on  rigorous  lines  after  the 
'ire  de  ccmpagnie  model,  showing 


R.A.  (to  humorist  whom  lie  finds  gazinj  at  his  picture).  "I  HOPE  YOU  HAVEX'T  COMB 

tEBE  TO   BE   FUNNY." 

Humorist.  "No;    THIS  is  MY  OFF-DAY.    I'VE  COME  TO  BE  AMUSED." 


f  possible  the  exact  figure,  with  a 
jronounced  slump  in  the  decolletage. 
The  favourite  tints  will  be  ultramarine 
and  the  charming  new  vermilion,  to 
which  costumieres  have  given  the  name 
of  "Eufus." 

In  stockings  the  pretty  "syndicate" 
material  will  replace  opsu-work. 

The  vogue  of  toy  dogs  seems  to  be 
waning,  and  many  smart  women  have 
>een  seen  in  the  Park  accompanied  bv 
ox  terriers — wireless-haired,  of  course. 

Even  in  m-ale  attire  the  topic  of  the 
noment  has  its  influence  on  costume. 


All  the  smartest  men  are  wearing  the 
adjustable  "  Spicer  "  cuff's  and  dickey. 
For  neckwear,  stocks  are  in  evidence ; 
but  even  more  modish  are  the  illus- 
trated ties  bearing  a  stamped  portrait 
of  Messrs.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  and 
HILAIBE  BELLOC  dancing  with  a  quite 
remarkable  abandon  the  world-famed 
Anglo-American  Marconi  Hug. 


"  The   figures    for    tho    best   ball   for   the 
fourteenth  hole  were  :  Ray  68  and  Yardon  73." 
Liverpool  Echo. 

Even  aunty  only  took  12. 


360 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


GETTING    MARRIED. 

III. — THE  HONEYMOON. 

"  I  KNOW  I  oughtn't  to  ba  dallying 
hero,"  I  said;  "1  ought  to  be  doing 
something  strenuous  in  preparation  for 
the  wedding.  Counting  the  bells  at 
St.  Miriam's,  or  varnishing  the  floors 
in  the  flat,  or—  Tell  me  what  I 
ought  to  be  doing,  Celia,  and  I  '11  go  on 
not  doing  it  for  a  bit." 

"  There 's  the  honeymoon,"  said 
Celia. 

1  knew  there  was  something." 
Seriously,   Eonald,   what   are   you 
do  ng  about  it  ?  " 

Thinking  about  it." 
You    haven't   written    to    anyone 
about  rooms  yet  ?  " 

"  Celia,"  I  said  reproachfully,  "  you 
seem  to  have  forgotten  why  I  am 
marrying  you." 

When  Celia  was  browbeaten  into  her 
present  engagement,  she  said  frankly 
that  she  was  only  consenting  to  mari'y 
me  because  of  my  pianola,  which  she 
had  always  coveted.  In  return  I 
pointed  out  that  I  was  only  asking  her 
to  marry  me  because  I  wanted  some- 
body to  write  my  letters.  There  opened 
before  me,  in  that  glad  moment,  a  vista 
of  invitations  and  accounts-rendered  all 
answered  promptly  by  Celia,  instead 
of  put  off  till  next  month  by  me.  It 
was  a  wonderful  vision  to  one  who  (very 
properly)  detests  letter-writing.  And 
yet,  here  she  was,  even  before  the 
ceremony,  expecting  me  to  enter  into 
a  deliberate  correspondence  with  all 
sorts  of  strange  people  who  as  yet  had 
not  come  into  my  life  at  all.  It  was 
too  much. 

"  We  will  get,"  I  said,  "  your  father 
to  write  some  letters  for  us." 

"  But  what 's  he  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  complain  of  your 
father,  Celia,  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
he  is  not  doing  his  fair  share.  There 
ought  to  be  a  certain  give-and-take  in 
the  matter.  I  find  you  a  nice  church 
to  be-  -married  in— good.  He  finds 
you  a  nice  place  to  honeymoon  in- 
excellent.  After  all,  you  are  still  his 
daughter." 

"  All  right,"  said  Celia,  "  I  '11  ask 
Father  to  do  it.  '  Dear  Mrs.  Bunn,  my 
little  boy  wants  to  spend  his  holidays 
with  you  in  June.  I  am  writing  to  ask 
you  if  you  will  take  care  of  him  and  see 
that  he  doesn't  do  anything  dangerous. 
He  lias  a  nice  disposition,  but  wants 
watching.'  Something  like  that." 

I  got  up  and  went  to  the  writing- 
desk. 

"X  can  see  I  shall  have  to  do  it 
myself,"  I  sighed.  "Give  me  the, 
address  and  I  '11  begin." 

"  But  we  haven't  quite  settled  where 
we  're  going  yet,  have  wo  ?  " 


I  put  the  pen  down  thankfully  and 
went  back  to  the  sofa. 

"  Good  !  Then  I  needn't  write  to- 
day, anyhow.  It  is  wonderful,  Celia, 
how  difficulties  roll  away  when  you 
face  them.  Almost  at  once  we  arrive 
at  the  conclusion  that  I  needn't  write 
to-day.  Splendid !  Well,  where  shall 
wo  go?  This  will  want  a  lot  of 
thought.  Perhaps,"  I  added,  "  I  needn't 
write  to-morrow." 

"  We  had  almost  fixed  on  England, 
hadn't  we  ?  " 

"  Somebody  was  telling  me  that 
Lynton  was  very  beautiful.  1  should 
like  to  go  to  Lynton." 

"But  everyone  goes  to  Lynton  for 
their  honeymoon." 

"  Then  let 's  be  original  and  go  to 
Birmingham.  '  The  happy  couple  left 
for  Birmingham,  whero  the  honeymoon 
will  be  spent.'  Sensation." 

"  '  The  bride  left  the  train  at  Baling.' 
More  sensation." 

"  I  think  the  great  thing,"  I  said, 
trying  to  be  businesslike,  "  is  to  fix  the 
county  first.  If  we  fixed  on  Eutland, 
then  the  rest  would  probably  be  easy." 

"  The  great  thing,"  said  Celia,  "  is  to 
decide  what  we  want.  Sea,  or  river, 
or  mountains,  or — or  golf." 

At  the  word  golf  I  coughed  and 
looked  out  of  the  window. 

Now  I  am  very  fond  of  Celia — I 
mean  of  golf,  and — .what  I  really  mean, 
of  course,  is  that  I  am  very  fond  of 
both  of  them.  But  I  do  think  that  on 
a  honeymoon  Celia  should  come  first. 
After  all,  I  shall  have  plenty  of  other 
holidays  for  golf  .  .  .  although,  of 
course,  three  weeks  in  the  summer 

without  any  golf  at  all Still,  I 

think  Celia  should  come  first. 

"  Our  trouble,"  I  said  to  her,  "  is 
that  neither  of  us  has  ever  been  on 
a  honeymoon  before,  and  so  we  've  no 
idea  what  it  will  be  like.  After  all, 
why  should  we  get  bored  with  each 
other?  Surely  we  don't  depend  on 
golf  to  amuse  us." 

"  All  the  same,  I  think  your  golf 
would  amuse  me,"  said  Celia.  "  Besides, 
I  want  you  to  be  as  happy  as  you 
possibly  can  be." 

"  Yes,  but  supposing  I  was  slicing 
my  drives  all  the  time,  I  should  be 
miserable.  I  should  be  torn  between 
the  desire  to  go  back  to  London  and 
have  a  lesson  with  the  professional  and 
the  desire  to  stay  on  honeymooning 
with  you.  One  can't  be  happy  in  a 
quandary  like  that." 

"Very  well  then,  no  golf.    Settled?" 

"  Quite.  Now  then,  let 's  decide 
about  the  scenery.  What  sort  of  soil 
do  you  prefer?  " 

When  I  left  Celia  that  day  we  had 
agreed  on  this  much  :  that  we  wouldn't 
bother  about  golf,  and  that  the 


mountains,  rivers,  valleys,  and  so  on, 
should  be  left  entirely  to  nature.  All 
wo  were  to  enquire  for  was  (in  the 
words  of  an  advertisement  Celia  had 
seon)  "  a  perfect  spot  for  a  honeymoon." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  day  I  heard 
of  seven  spots;  varying  from  a  spot  in 
Surrey  "  dotted  with  firs,"  to  a  dot  in 
the  Pacific  spotted  with — I  forget 
what,  natives  probably.  Taken  together 
they  were  the  seven  only  possible 
spots  for  a  honeymoon. 

"We  shall  have  to  have  seven  honey- 
moons," I  said  to  Celia  when  I  had 
told  her  my  news.  "  One  honeymoon, 
one  spot." 

"  Wait,"  she  said.  "  I  have  heard  of 
an  ideal  spot." 

"  Speaking  as  a  spot  expert,  I  don't 
think  that 's  necessarily  better  than  an 
only  possible  spot,"  I  objected.  "  Still, 
tell  me  about  it." 

"  Well,  to  begin  with,  it 's  close  to  the 
sea." 

"  So  we  can  bathe  when  we  're  bored. 
Good." 

"  And  it 's  got  a  river,  if  you  want  to 
fish " 

"  I  don't.  I  should  hate  to  catch  a 
fish  who  was  perhaps  on  his  honey- 
moon too.  Still,  I  like  the  idea  of  a 
river." 

"And  quite  a  good  mountain,  and 
lovely  walks,  and,  in  fact,  everything. 
Except  a  picture-palace,  luckily." 

"  It  sounds  all  right,"  I  said  doubt- 
fully. "  We  might  just  spend  the  next 
day  or  two  thinking  about  my  seven 
spots,  and  then  I  might  .  .  .  possibly 
.  .  .  feel  strong  enough  to  write." 

"  Oh,  I  nearly  forgot.  I  have  written, 
Eonald." 

"You  have?"  I  cried.  "Then,  my 
dear  Celia,  what  else  matters  ?  It 's  a 
perfect  spot."  I  lay  back  in  relief. 
"  And  there,  thank  'evings,  is  another 
thing  settled." 

"  Yes.  And,  by  the  way,  there  is  golf 
quite  close  too.  But  that,"  she  smiled, 
"needn't  prevent  us  going  there." 

"  Of  course  not.  We  shall  just 
ignore  the  course." 

"  Perhaps,  so  as  to  be  on  the  safe 
side,  you  'd  better  leave  your  clubs 
behind." 

' '  Perh  aps  I  'd  better, "  I  said  carelessly. 

All  the  same  I  don't  think  I  will. 
One  never  knows  what  may  happen 

.  .  and  at  the  outset  of  one's  matri- 
monial career  to  have  to  go  to  the 
expense  of  an  entirely  new  set  of  clubs 
would  be  a  most  regrettable  business. 

A.  A.  M. 


"To  keep  tho  militants   on   the   run,  in 
London  and  the  provinces  alike,  is  tin 
way  to  extinguish  their  activity." — Standard. 

Still,   it    should   be   good   exercise  for 
somebody. 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


361 


TO    BRIGHTEN    WEDDINGS. 

[Fancy  dress  was  worn  by  guests  at  a  recent  prominent  wedding,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  new  fashion  will  goon  extend  to  brides  and 

bridegrooms.] 


MR.   MAClSAACS    AND    MlSS    MACSOLOMON  IN  THE   TARTANS  OF  THE  HONOURABLE   REGGIE   KNUTT  AND  MlSS  GERTIE   HlGH- 

IHEIR  RESPECTIVE  CLANS.  FLYEH  AS  PURITAN  MAN  AND   MAID. 


Mn.  GOODENOUGH  AND  MlSS  PfllSCILLA  PRISM  AS  A  BLADE  AND  LORD   SANQAZUB  AND   LADY   ANNE   PORTCULLIS  AS  A.  COSTEU 

LADY  OP  THE  COURT  OP  CHARLES  II.  AND  HIS  DONAH. 


362 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


Boy.  "AND  WHEN  I  GO  TO  HEAVES  SHALL  I  MEET  GBISELDA  AXD  MAKMADCKE?' 
Mother.  "YES,  DEAB;  I  HOPE  YOU'LL  MEET  ALL  YOUB  LITTLE  FRIENDS." 
Boy.  "FANCY  PEOPLE  WITH  'BSUBD  NAMES  LIKE  THAT  GOING  TO  HEAVES!" 


THE    WORLD    OF    BOOKS. 

MESSRS.  JAMES  EUTHEBFORD  AND 
Co.  have  just  issued  The  Book  of  the 
British  Belshazzars  and  Britain's 
Mene  Mene  Tekel ;  or,  Within  Seven 
Years,  Except — — ."  ,  We  fancy  busy 
men  will  choose  the  second  title. 

"  EITA  "  has  been  writing  to  the 
press  to  protest  against  the  advertise- 
ments which  her  publisher  places  in  her 
books.  It  is  all  the  more  creditable  to 
Mr.  JOHN  LANE  that  his  edition  of 
ANATOLE  FRANCE'S  The  Gods  areAthirst 
should  not  contain  a  single  drink  ad- 
vertisement. 

Our  Village  Homes,  by  HUGH  AHON- 
SON,  is  a  powerful  indictment  of  oiu 
present  system  of  rural  housing.  We 
do  not,  however,  agree  with  the  ex- 
tremists who  consider  that  the  majority 
of  our  country  cottages  should  be 
demolished.  With  a  little  cleaning  up 
many  of  them  would  make  capital 
pigsties. 

We  are  glad  to  see  from  an  adver- 
tisement that  a  reviewer  describes 
Mr.  EICHAED  BIRD'S  book,  The  Gay 


Adventure,  as  "  radiantly  gay."  It 
would  have  been  a  blow  for  Mr.  BIRD 
if  his  book  had  been  found  to  be 
radiantly  dull. 

Messrs.  CASSELL  are  producing 
Railuwj  Wonders  of  the  World.  We 
hope  that,  for  the  British  section,  the 
following  marvels  will  be  mentioned : — 

A  porter  refusing  a  tip. 

Railway  directors  protesting  that 
their  fees  are  too  high. 

Messrs.  HARPER  have  added  to 
their  Library  of  Living  Thought  a 
volume  entitled  Arc  the  Planets  In- 
habited ?  \Ve  imagine  that  a  pretty 
good  case  could  be  made  out  for  the 
one  on  which  we  live.  Venus,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  certainly  as  a  rule  depicted 
with  little  or  nothing  on  her. 

Self-made  men  should  soon  become 
even  more  common  than  they  are  now. 
Messrs.  CEOSBY  LOCKWOOD  AND  Co. 
have  published  a  handbook  entitled 
Every  Man  His  Ou-n  Builder. 

Volume  IV.  of  The  Everyman  En- 
cyclopadia,  which  lias  just  appeared,  is 
a  little  unkind  to  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE. 


Although  it  devotes  six  lines  to 
"  Criccieth  "  it  does  not  mention  who 
has  a  house  there. 

The  following  statement  on  the 
cover  of  a  book  recently  published  is 
surely  a  bit  libellous  :— 

THE    CURSE    OF    THE    NILE 

DOUGLAS  SLADEH. 
So  is  this  :— 
HOW    CRIMINALS    ARE    MADE 

J.    W.   HOBSLEY, 

Hou.  Canon  of  Southwark. 

The  appearance  of  The  Dog  Lover's, 
Companion  is  announced.  The  com- 
panion referred  to  is,  we  presume,  a 
dog. 

Ready  shortly — A  Guide  to  the  Best 
Hundred  Books  on  the  War  in  the 
Balkans. 

"LONDON,  April  19.— Hungwell,  winner 
of  this-  year's  Waterloo  Cup,  was  sold  hero 
to-day  at  auction  for  $5,510.  The  horse  is  a 
great  favorite." — New  York  Times. 

We  are  glad  that  a  horse  has  won  the 
Waterloo  Cup  at  last.  It  was  quite' 
time. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAY  7.   1913. 


THE    LATEST    SCANDAL. 

Rvtiova  (showing  her  season-ticket).  "NOT  LET  MB  IN  ANY  MORE?  WHY,  I'VE  BEEN  THE 
LIL'l!  AND  SOUL  OP  THE  WHOLE  THING!" 

POLICEMAN.  "SORRY,  MA'AM,  BUT  FROM  INFORMATION  EECEIYED  I  UNDERSTAND 
THEY  'RE  ABOUT  TO  GET  TO  BUSINESS." 

KUIIOUB.  "SO    SOON!      I    CALL    IT    SCANDALOUS!" 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


865 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FKOM  THE  DIAISY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  April 
28. — After  long  series  of  exciting  inter- 
ludes Man  in  Street  began  to  forget 
existence  of  Marconi  Committee.  Re- 

nli'd  it  as  played  out.  This  afternoon 
burst  forth  in  quick  flame  of  wrath 
exceeding  all  that  had  gone  before. 

Witness  in  chair,  in  that  vugue  casual 
manner  with  which,  in  fashion  un- 
familiar to  English  public  life,  charges 
calculated  to  ruin  promising  careers 
have  been  levied  against  Cabinet 
Ministers,  hinted  that  there  was  a 
third  whoso  name  had  been  "  men- 
tioned in  the  City."  Suspicion  aroused 
that  he  had  used  his  official  position 
to  obtain  information  respecting  pros- 
pects of  Marconi  enterprise,  and  had 
secretly  speculated  upon  it.  Of  course, 
witness  did  not  believe  there  was  any 
truth  in  this  rumour,  any  more  than 
had  predecessors  in  the  chair  who 
dealt  with  the  names  of  the  CHANCELLOR 
OP  THE  EXCHEQUER  and  the  ATTORNEY- 
GENERAL.  Could  not  even  name  his 
authority.  But  there  you  were.  Just 
mentioned  it  by  the  way,  as  who 
should  say,  "  A  fine  day,"  or  (under 
other  circumstances),  "  How  very  wet." 
Would  rather  not  name  the  Minister 
implicated;  but  if  Committee  insisted? 
Well,  it  was  the  FIRST  LORD  OF  THE 
ADMIRALTY. 

WINSTON  sent  for,  and  he  came. 
Burst  into  chamber  like  a  tornado.  In 
swift  succession  of  wholesome  if  stormy 
gusts  destroyed  the  frail  fabric  of 
"flimsy  gossip,  unsupported  tittle- 
tattle,"  as  he  scornfully  described  it. 

Having,  in  measured  terms  whose 
precision  and  circumstantiality  brought 
into  stronger  light  the  fumbling  charge 
levelled  against  his  honour,  denied 
that  at  any  time,  in  any  circumstances, 
directly  or  indirectly,  he  had  had 
any  interest  in  Marconi  shares,  he 
added :  "If  anybody,  at  any  time,  has 
said  I  have,  that  person  is  a  liar  and 
a  slanderer.  If  anybody  has  repeated 
this  statement  and  said  he  has  no 
evidence  and  ho  believes  it  to  be  false, 
but  that  there  it  is,  the  only  difference 
between  that  person  and  a  liar  and  a 
slanderer  is  that  he  is  a  coward  in 
addition." 

The  MEMBER  FOR  SARK  delighted. 

"It  was,"  he  remarked,  "time  this 
was  said.  No  one  could  have  said  it 
better.  LLOYD  GEORGE  and  EUFUS 
Is\\rs,  properly  anxious  to  dispel 
lingering  doubt  as  to  falseness  of 
charges  not  made  but  insinuated,  were 
a  little  too  meek  in  their  demeanour, 
a  trifle  too  concerned  to  make  full  dis- 
closure of  their  private  affairs  in 
satisfaction  of  malignant  curiosity. 


WINSTON,  in  fashion  that  would  have 
delighted  his  father,  took  the  anony- 
mous slanderers  by  the  throat  and 
shook  the  breath  out  of  their  bodies. 
Pity  he  didn't  turn  up  three  months 
ago.  He  would  have  made  swift  end 
of  the  sorry  business,  as  he  has  done 
to-day." 

SARK,  who  is  rather  proud  of  his 
recollection  of  episodes  in  English 
History  reluctantly  acquired  in  school- 
days, finds  in  the  incident  with  the 
story  of  which  House  and  Lobby  are 
ringing  the  most  dramatic  scene  in 
Parliamentary  record  since  CROMWELL 


WINSTON  STRANGLES  A  CANARD. 

With  acknowledgments  to  Mr.  ALBERT 
HODGE,  sculptor  of  "A  Mighty  Hunter" 
(No.  1821)  at  the  Royal  Academy. 

dropped  in  at  Westminster,  spoke  dis- 
respectfully of  the  Mace,  and  dissolved 
House  of  Commons. 

"  Longo  intervallo,  of  course,"  he 
admits.  "  Still  you  get  the  sudden 
impulse,  the  swift  movement  and  the 
paralysing  effect." 

Business  done. — Marconi  Committee 
begin  to  think  it  has  had  enough  of  it. 
On  Wednesday  motion  will  be  made 
that  it  "  doth  forthwith  proceed  to 
consider  its  Report." 

House  of  Lords,  Tuesday.— Noble 
Lords  coming  back  to  work  after  yester- 
day's exhausting  sitting  of  five  minutes 
rewarded  by  hearing  instructive  paper 
read  by  MONTAGU  OP  BEAULIEU  on 
subject  of  Military  and  Naval  Aviation. 
Successor  to  new  peerage  in  ancient  line 
he  remains  "  JOHN  SCOTT  "  to  a  widecircle 
of  admiring  friends.  Aviation's  artful 


aid  a  comparatively  new  attraction  for 
him.  Outside  matters  of  high  State 
policy  he  made  his  mark  as  one  of  the 
earliest  advocates  of  motoring.  'Twas 
he  who  gave  the  lato  KING  EDWARD  his 
first  ride  in  the  conquering  car.  When 
he  took  to  the  new  means  of  road 
conveyance  it  was  regarded  as  a 
less  temptation  of  Providence.  Wives 
viewed  with  mixed  feelings  the  depar- 
ture of  their  husbands  on  an  excursion. 
They  were  united  in  apprehension  that 
they  might  never  see  them  any  more — 
at  least  not  bodily  intact. 

JOHN  SCOTT  was  the  first  man  who 
drove  into  Palace  Yard  in  a  motor  car. 
It  is  striking  evidence  of  the  frame 
of  m  nd  with  which  the  novelty  was 
regarded  at  that  not  far  distant  time 
that  when  he  made  a  second  attempt 
lie  was  stopped  at  the  gate  by  the 
police.  To-day  four-wheelers  and  han- 
soms have  hopelessly  driven  off  and 
the  Yard  resounds  with  stentorian  sum- 
mons of  "  Tax-ee"  by  police  on  duty. 

Sighing  for  new  worlds  to  conquer, 
JOHN  SCOTT,  with  the  enthusiasm  of 
perpetual  youth,  now  gone  in  for 
aviation.  This  afternoon  moved  for 
elaborate  return  showing  the  number 
of  •  dirigibles,  aeroplanes,  hydro-aero- 
planes, possessed  by  the  chief  countries 
of  the  world,  including  Great  Britain, 
as  usual  in  these  matters,  so  patriots 
put  it,  lagging  in  the  rear. 

As  BEAUCHAMP,  replying  for  Govern- 
ment, meekly  said,  Why  should  the 
Department  prepare  returns?  The 
noble  lord  had  himself  supplied  one 
whose  fulness  could  hardly  be  exceeded. 
He  would  certainly  refer  the  matter  to 
the  War  Office  and  would  ask  them 
whether  they  were  able  to  enlarge  on 
information  supplied  by  questioner. 

Seemed  to  think  this  not  probable. 
What  JOHN  SCOTT  doesn't  know  about 
aeroplanes  is  not  worth  teaching  in  an 
elementary  school. 

Business  done. — In  Commons,  third 
debate  on  "  the  People's  Budget."  Much 
talk  but  little  fight.  Resolutions  im- 
posing Tea  Duties  and  Income-tax 
agreed  to  without  division. 

House  of  Commons,  Friday. — When 
newly-elected  Member  for  Shrews- 
bury arrived  to  take  the  oath  there 
was  forthcoming  striking  evidence  of 
the  strained  condition  of  Members 
supervening  on  exceptionally  prolonged 
attendance  at  Westminster.  Safely 
delivered  at  Table  (with  some  difficulty 
to  his  escort  by  reason  of  his  persistence 
in  halting  at  the  wrong  spot  to  repeat 
obeisance  to  the  Chair)  the  Clerk  as 
usual  handed  him  copy  of  the  Biblo 
and  form  of  oath.  Instructed  to  hold 
the  former  in  his  right  hand  he  uplifted 
it  at  arm's  length  above  his  shoulder 
as  if  about  to  discharge  cricket  ball  with 


3GG 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


liich    delivery    against    the    opposing  I  women  waste  so  much  time— in  thrash- 

:„,»  «,,f  *Ua  ;,-i.r>lo»-nTif  nfc   t.hn  nvnnnsfi  or 

defence,  or  thereabouts. 

This  early  impression   swiftly   gave 
place  to  another  more  disturbing.    As  a 


student  of  modern  Parliamentary  man- 
ner, was  BUTLER  LLOYD  about  to  dis- 
tinguish himself  on  the  very  threshold 
of  his  Parliamentary  career  by  chucking 
the  book  at  the  head  of  the  CHANCELLOR 
OF  THE  EXCHEQUER  seated .  on  the 
Treasury  Bench  with  folded  arms,  un- 
conscious of  peril  ? 

RONALD  McNEiLL  the  first  to  recog- 
nise contingency.     His  natural  personal 


ing  out  the  irrelevant  at  the  expense  of 
the  essential.  Now  had  we  been  two 
females  we  should  have  committed  a 


our  respective  duties,  and  yet,  should 
the  old  lady  take  a  fancy  to  one  sock, 
or  desire  a  linen  collar  as  a  memento 
of  our  patronage,  you  cannot  blame  me 


fundamental  error  in  the  preliminary  and  I  have  no  word  to  say  against  you. 
division  of  labour.  Wo  should  have  That  is  where  the  male  mind  scores  so 
allotted  one  to  the  other  certain  definite  over  its  female  counterpart.  It  is  the 
and  distinct  departments.  You,  for  i  triumph  of  method  over  unreasoning 
example,  might  have  undertaken  the  routine." 
replenishment  of  the  larder,  while  I  was  "  It  'a  organisation  in  the  little  things 


replenishment 

responsible  for  the  mathematical  and 
literary  labours  attendant  upon  the 
week's  washing.  What  would  have 
been  the  result '!  We  should  each  have 


that  is  the  secret  of  our  success." 

"  Exactly — orrather  in  the  apparently 
little  things.  Now  a  woman  doesn't 
realise  that  the  tiniest  nut  in  an 


interest    in    the    procedure    attracted 

general    attention.       Scene    at   Table  better  than  our  own, 

breathlessly  watched — the  Clerk, 

with  air  of  listening  intently  to 

recital  of  "the  oath,  keeping  ono 

eye  fixed  on  the  uplifted  right 

hand,  ready  to  dodge  anything 

that  might  come  his  way ;  new 

Member  slightly    swaying  '  his 

arm  preparatory  to  letting  fly  ; 

LLOYD  -  GEORGE      innocently 

smiling  to  himself  as  he  thought 

of  the  exquisite  humour  of  the 

phrase    about     "  the    People's 

Budget."  •       !  . 

It  seemed  to  last  for  minutes. 
Was  really  only  seconds  before 
House  was  relieved  by"  new 
Member  lowering  his  arm  and 
returning  the  Bible'to  the  Clerk, 
studiously  avoiding  osculatory 
attention.  • 

After  all,  nothing  in  it. 
Apparently  a  way  they  have  in 
Shropshire  of  taking  the  oath. 

Business  done.— Second  Bead- 
ing of  London  Elections  Bill 
moved  and  carried  by  193  votes 
against  103. 


felt  that  we  could  do  the  other's  work   engine    is   of  far  greater  import  than 


and  it  would  have  ,  the 


Tho  now  Member  for  Shrewsbury  assumes  a 
threatening  aspect. 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  METHOD. 

"  I  THINK,  Peter,"  I  remarked, 
"  that  we  may  congratulate  ourselves  led  to  a  series  of  petty  jealousies  and  so  that  the  other  articles  should  work 


noise  which  the  machine  emits 
in  the  performance  of  its  duties. 
For  example — this  little  fact 
will  show  you  the  importance 
of  logical  forethought.  You  will 
admit  that,  even  with  the  hypo- 
thetical care  which  our  worthy 
washer-woman  bestows  on  the 
chattels  committed  to  her  care, 
the  cleansing  process  is  detri- 
mental to  the  structure  of  the 
various  fabrics.  You  will  also 
recognize  the  point  that,  if  two 
portions  of  our  linen  go  in  alter- 
nate weeks  to  the  wash-tub 
while  the  remainder  lies  per- 
manently in  the  cupboard,  then 
the  various  items  will  not  wear 
out  equally  fast.  Some  will  be 
new  and  some  in  rags.  A  thing 
to  be  avoided." 

"  Certainly,"  I  agreed  with 
conscious  pride. 

"  Therefore,"  said  Peter 
proudly,  "  my  male  mind  at 
once  saw  the  difficulty  and 
seized  on  the  best  method  to 
overcome  it.  There  was  no 
talk,  no  fuss — just  quiet  action. 
When  the  clean  linen  returned 
I  invariably  placed  each  article 
at  the  bottom  of  its  own  pile, 


upon  the  way  in  which  things  have 


turned  out. 

both   made 

household  matters,  but  for  the  last  six 

months  we  have  reduced  our  manage- 


It  is  true  that  at  first  we 
sundry  little   mistakes   in 


ment  to  a  fine  art." 
And  therein  lies 


our  success,"  he 


replied.  "  Housekeeping  is  a  fine  art. 
It  is  usually,  and  quite  erroneously, 
considered  to  be  a  form  of  unskilled 
labour.  It  is  also  generally  supposed 
to  bo  one  of  those  matters  which  lie 
entirely  in  the  province  of  the  other 
sex.  Like  most  things  which  women 
do  well,  it  can  be  still  better  done  by 
men  when  they  set  themselves  seriously 
to  the  task.  The  male  mind  is  able  to 
grasp  the  broad  general  outlines  of  a 
division  of  labour  without  the  necessity 
of  eternal  discussion  over  the  trivialities 
of  respective  tasks.  That  is  where 


squabbles,  instead  of  the  present  happy 
result  of  the  maximum  of  economy  and 
the  minimum  of  friction.  The  effect  of 
our  dividing  each  and  every  separate 
and  distinct  branch ' 

"  One  man,  one  twig,"  I  suggested. 

" — is  that  we  are  mutually  and 
indistinguishably  responsible  both  for 
the  preliminary  failures  and  for  the 
more  recent  succession  of  brilliant 
achievements." 

"Hear!  Hear!"  I  said,  as  he  paused 
to  moisten  his  lips. 

"  Take  for  example  the  subject  I  have 
already  touched  on — that  of  the  washer- 
woman and  her  duties.  You  list  the 
things  and  send  them  to  her — and  put 
out  the  clean  linen.  I  check  the  list 
on  its  return  and  replace  the  various 
articles  in  the  cupboard.  What  could 
be  simpler '?  We  each  know  and  perform 


up  to  the  top  and  take  their  fair  turn 
at  the  wash." 

"  And  if  we  had  been  two  women," 
I  replied,  "  it  might  have  prevented 
me,  when  laying  out  the  clean  linen, 
from  taking  each  article  from  the 
bottom  of  its  own  pile,  so  that  the 
others  should  invariably  work  down 
from  the  top  and  take  their  fair  turn  in 
the  house." 


Commercial  Candour. 

"  For  Sale. — "sEgg  'Non  TareU'  Incubator, 
used  only  once  with  success. 

Adrt.  in  "Madras  Times." 


"Wanted,  at  once,  Capstan  Lathe  Hands, 
used  to  chucking  work." 

Sta/ordsJdre  Sentinel. 

Members  of  the  Capstan  Lathe  Hands 
Union  should  apply  at  once. 


MAY  7,  1 !)!:(.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


307 


COWSLIP   WINE. 

THE  river  ran  unheeding ; 

The  cuckoo  made  his  mock; 
The  big  trout  wasn't  feeding ; 

I  drowsed  beside  the  lock  ; 
It  might,  have  been  the  weather, 

It  might  have  been  the  stream, 
Or  p'raps  'the  two  together 

That  made  me  dream  a  dream. 

I  dreamt  a  dream  of  Maytime, 

Of  hawthorns  white  as  snow, 
Tho  village  green  at  playtime 

A  hundred  years  ago  ; 
A  dream  of  bow  and  fiddle 

And  dancing  on  the  green, 
A  maypole  in  the  middle, 

The  finest  ever  seen. 

Tho  maids  were  red  as  roses 

That  took  each  ribbon  rope ; 
The  lads  who  held  their  posies 

They  shone  with  health  and  soap 
Each  lass  had  got  her  lover, 

Save  one  I  did  espy 
As  plump  as  any  plover, 

As  sweet  as  cherry  pio. 

I  slipped  an  arm  around  her ; 

The  fiddles  called  to  me ; 
As  light  of  foot  I  found  her 

As  e'er  a  lass  could  be  ; 
We  danced  it,  and  the  same  was 

"  Most  wonderful  to  tread ; 
I  asked  her  what  her  name  was, 

And,  "Hephzibah,"  she  said. 

The  fiddlers  were  in  fettle ; 

Too  soon  the  dance  was  done ; 
I  sat  her  on  a  settle, 

All  dimpling  in  the  sun  ; 
I  found  for  her  a  fairing, 

This  pretty  maid  of  mine, 
A  kerchief  for  her  wearing, 

And  cake  and  cowslip  wine. 

I  said,  "  My  dear,  I  love  you 

Most  tender  and  most  true ; 
You  little,  pretty  dove,  you, 

Oh,  won't  you  love  me  too  ?  " 
White  lids  the  blue  eyes'  beaming 

Swift  shadowed  as  I  spoke ; 
'Twas  then — so  much  for  dreaming — 

Twas  then  that  I  awoke. 

The  cuckoos  still  were  calling ; 

In  amber,  jade  and  pearls 
Tho  splashing  weir  was  falling, 

To  spin  in  silver  swirla 
As  gaily  as  a  dancer ; 

But  I  was  grave,  for  ah, 
I  never  had  your  answer, 

My  little  Hephzibah  1 

"  Winslow's  casual  ward  is  very  popular 
with  vagrants.  There  is  no  hard  work.  Stone 
breaking  and  opium  picking  did  not  pay,  so 
they  wero  dropped."— Daily  Mail. 

A  pity,  for  opium   picking   sounds   a 
soothing  occupation. 


CULTURE    AT   SURBITON. 

Dear  Child.  "We  DON'T  LIKE  MB.  SHADBURT,  MAMMA,  DO  WE? 
BIRDS  ARE  SIN  am  a  I  " 


BE  TALES  WBEX  THE 


THE   OBJECT-LESSON. 

"  You  have  been  a  good  father  to  me, 
Sir.  You  have  never  disguised  your 
Little  failings ;  you  have  allowed  me  to 
profit  by  your  mistakes." 

"  I  have  not  prevented  you  from 
making  your  own — perhaps  that  is 
what  you  mean." 

"  No,  Sir,  not  at  all.  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  my  writing  to  the  papers  or 
looking  out  other  people's  trains  or 
auilding  a  dog-kennel  ?  Never,  Sir. 
You  have  educated  me  by  sheer  force 
of  example." 

"  I  see  that  I  must  give  up  these 
simple  pursuits.  I  am  very  much  to 
Dlame.  .  .  .  Tell  me,  what  is  on  at  the 
Vacuity  Theatre  this  evening  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  wouldn't  care  about 


it,  Sir.  It  mightn't  suit  your  Victorian 
cast  of  mind." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  can  take  a  run  down  in 
the  car  and  see — if  you  will  tell  the 
chauffeur,  please,  that  I  am  your  father." 

"  Certainly,  Sir." 

"  And  you  might  move  Out  the  hat- 
stand  so  that  I  can  push  it  over  when 
I  come  in." 

"  It  was  not  the  hat-stand,  Sir,  but  a 
stick  which  fell  down  last  night.  And 
the  chauffeur  knows  you  perfectly  well, 
for  you  pay  his  wages." 

"  True." 

"  I  don't  think  irony  is  quite  in  your 
line,  Sir ;  you  are  tempted  to  exaggerate. 
And  in  any  case  it  is  lost  upon  an 
audience  of  one." 

"  That  is  what  I  was  endeavouring 
to  demonstrate,  my  dear  boy." 


368 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


THE    RETURN. 

HAVING  a  moral  duty  and  a  delicate 
task  to  perform,  I  marched  up  the 
marble  staircase  and  through  the  big 
glass  doors.  "1  have  come,"  said  I, 
"  to  have  a  chat  with  somebody." 

The  man  behind  the  counter  (it  was 
a  big  counter  and  there  were  many  men 
behind  it,  but  only  one  of  them  took 
any  real  fancy  to  mo) — the  man  behind 
the  counter  (though  perhaps  that  de- 
scription does  inadequate  justice  to  a 
very  superior  clerk  in  a  very  superior 
insurance  company's  very  superior  head 
office)— the  man  behind  the  counter,  if  I 
might  perhaps  just  be  allowed  to  finish 
this  sentence,  as  good  as  told  me  to 
chat  on. 

"  It  is  about  some  trousers,"  I  began. 

"Trousers?"  said  he,"  raising  his 
eyebrows,  but  dropping  them  again 
almost  immediately. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "a  pair  of  them. 
Twins,  I  might  say,  and  so  alike  that 
you  could  not  tell  t'  other  from  which. 
But  then  you  did  not  often  get  the 
chance,  for  they  were  inseparable  and 
always  went  about  together.  As  often 
as  not  I  went  with  them,  but  there 
came  a  day  when  they  made  up  their 
minds  to  go  out  'into  the  world 
alone." 

I  gave  him  his  opportunity,  but  he 
had  nothing  to  say.  So  I  continued : 
"  How  well  I  remember  that  Friday 
evening  when  we  parted  company  !  It 
had  been  a  heavy  day  in  the  City,  and 
I  was  due  to  be  in  the  country  for  the 
week-end.  I  left  them  to  rest  and 
recuperate  in  my  flat.  When  I  returned 
on  the  Monday  they  were  gone.  The 
affair  did  not  attract  much  attention  at 
the  time ;  the  British  public  was  either 
ignorant  or  apathetic.  We  ourselves 
thought  little  enough  of  it  until  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  they  were 
heavily  insured." 

At  that  word  the  man  showed  his 
first  signs  of  beginning  to  sit  up  and 
take  notice.  Up  till  then  he  had  been 
very  busy  adding  up  figures  in  a  ledger 
while  I  talked. 

"  It  was  when  I  recollected,"  I  said, 
"  that  I  was  paying  you  twenty-five 
shillings  a  year  to  cover  fire  and 
burglary  risks  that  the  suspicion  of 
foul  play  first  crossed  my  mind.  The 
more  I  thought  of  the  matter  the  more 
sure  did  I  become  that  they  had  been 
made  away  with.  Knowing  you  would 
be  interested,  I  wrote  and  told  you  all 
about  it.  You  answered  that  my  com- 
munication was  to  hand  and  was  re- 
ceiving attention,  and  had  I  any  clues  ? 
I  replied  that  I  hadn't,  and  if  I  had 
they  were  poor  substitutes  for  trousers. 
And  eventually  you  agreed  to  contribute 
to  the  erection  of  a  fac-simile  of  the 


dear  departed  upon  the  very  site  they 
used  to  occupy." 

The  man  leant  right  across  the 
counter  and  examined  me  thoroughly. 
To  cut  a  long  and  painful  story  short," 
said  he,  "  you  have  come  to  show  us  the 
fac-similes.  On  behalf  of  my  Company 
I  express  our  hearty  appreciation.  And 
now,  since  to  continue  it  would  only 
be  to  harrow  your  feelings,  we  might 
perhaps  consider  the  interview  at  an 
end." 

I  trust  that  at  the  critical  moment  I 
showed  no  signs  of  confusion.  "  No," 
I  answered,  "  Er — no;  these  are  not 
the  fac-similes.  But  if  you  are  really 
interested  I  will  tell  you  what  they  are1. 
It  is  a  longish  history,  but  I  have  felt 
that  you  are  entitled  to  the  whole  of  it, 
if  you  insist." 

I  paused.  I  continued  pausing  while 
he  added  up  another  column  of  figures 
and  added  it  up  again.  It  must  have 
come  the  same  both  times  for  he  sud- 
denly lost  interest  in  it  and  returned 
to  me  and  the  trousers. 

"As    you    were    saying ?"   he 

observed. 

"I  was  remarking,"  said  I,  "  on  the 
transient  nature  nowadays  of  mysterious 
disappearances,  eloping  vicars  and  so 
forth.  Subsequent  investigation  as 
often  as  not  reveals  a  state  of  circum- 
stances very  different  from  that  depossd 
to  in  the  first  impulsive  statement  of 
the  bereaved ;  the  persons  said  to  have 
disappeared  not  only  have  not  been 
made  away  with  but  have  not,  in  fact, 
disappeared.  It  is  much  the  same  with 
trousers." 

His  attention,  which  had  been 
momentarily  stimulated  by  my  allusion 
to  eloping  vicars,  fell  off  again  and  he 
started  on  yet  another  column,  but, 
stolid  fellow  though  he  was,  whom  no 
passionate  tale  of  tragedy  could  long 
distract  from  his  arithmetic,  he  be- 
came interested  when  I  produced  thirty 
shillings  and  put  them  thoughtfully  on 
the  counter. 

"  What 's  this  for  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Conscience  money,"  I  said  briefly ; 
but,  seeing  that  he  wanted  some  sort  of 
explanation  to  lay  before  his  Board  of 
Directors,  "  it  is  like  this,"  I  concluded. 
"  Some  little  time  ago  your  Company 
was  kind  enough  to  give  me  money  to 
buy  myself  the  lower  half  of  a  new  suit. 
Circumstances  have  arisen  in  which  I 
think  it  is  true  etiquette  for  me  on  my 
part  to  make  a  similar  present  to  your 
Company." 

Naturally  enough  he  asked  for  the 
name  of  the  generous  donor. 

"  On  the  whole,"  I  said  with  a  mag- 
nanimous air,  "  I  would  prefer  to  remain 
anon." 

Thereupon  I,  and  the  trousers,  de- 
parted. 


LOVE    AND    A    LICKING. 

TWAS    a    ding-dong    game    to    the 

fifteenth  green ; 
No  doubt  I  was  oft  in  peril, 
But  I  stuck  to  the  safe  Platonic  mean 
And,  addressing  her,  said,  "  Miss 
Beryl." 

She   was   taking    a   stroke    from    the 

gentlemen's  tee ; 
Her  driving  was  long,  if  flashy  ; 
But.  I   said,  "This  is  never   the   girl 

for,  me !  " 

When  she  muffed  an  approach  with 
her  mashio. 

She  played  for  a  pull,  and  I  cried, 

"  Hot  'stuff !  " 

And  noticed  her  nice  complexion, 
Till  she  sliced  her  ball  right  into  the 

rough, 

And  I  thought,  "  Is  her  nose  per- 
fection?" 

But  she  managed  to  hold  her  own 

uncheckt 
(Her  niblick  shots  were  striking), 
And  I  said)  "  She's  a  girl  who  com- 
mands respect ; 
Not  love,  but  at  least  sound  liking." 

And  so  she  arrived  at  the  sixteenth  tee 
Two  up  (through  a  lucky  stymie), 

And  I  foozled  my  drive,  while  hers 

dropped  free 
Where  the  grass  was  short  and  thymy. 

My  second  I  topped  ('twas  a  rotten  lie), 
But  she  with  her  cleek  swung  finely— 

No   effort,   no  force — and  the  ball 

soared  high, 
And  she  followed  it  through  divinely. 

Oh,  fair  and  true  her  approach   was 

sped, 
And  I  saw  her  fourth  (with  her 

putter) 
From  the  edge  of  the  green  laid  dead — 

laid  dead ! — 
With  a  joy  that  I  scarce  could  utter! 

"  You  are  down  in  five,  not  counting 

your  stroke, 

While  I  took  seven  to  do  it ; 
You  have  won  three  up,"  were  the 

words  I  spoke ; 

"You're   the    wife    for    me  —  I 
knew  it !  " 

I  dropped  on  my  knees,  I  pleaded  sore  : 
"  You  have  won !     Be  pitiful,  very !  " 

(I  paid  no  heed  to  the  cries  of  "  Fore ! ") 
"  O  Miss  Beryl ! — or  may  I   say 
'  Berry '  ?  " 

Having  braved  the  hazard,  I  'm  bun- 
kered clean, 

And  I  feel  I  rejoice  to  fall  so ; 
I  have  met  my  match   on  the  six- 
teenth green, 

And  the  banns  shall  be  "  three  up  " 
also. 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAIM. 


369 


THE   OPTIMIST. 

BILLY  is  very  brave.  He  knows  not 
the  meaning  of  the  word  fear,  especially 
if  it  takes  tlie  form  of  linico,  and  as  for 
the  word  (/>oj3<'o>  I  don't  believe  lio  can 
do  a  thing  with  it.  To  his  invincible 
coin-ago  -Billy  adds  an  unquenchable 
optimism.  He  is  fond  of  telling  people 
that  ho  really  enjoys  cold  baths ;  that 
very  frosty  weather  invigorates  him,  and 
very  hot  weather  fills  him  with  health  ; 
and  that  the  world,  contrary  to  the  over- 
whelming verdict  of  popular  opinion,  is 
not  actually  going  to  the  dogs.  But 
Billy  has  his  weak  spot.  A  dentist 
scares  him  to  death. 

The  moment  I  saw  Billy  last  Monday 
I  realized  that  something  was  wrong. 
His  faco  was  grim — tragic.  It  looked 
as  if  he  had  been  face  to  face  with  one  of 
the  great  facts  of  life — love  or  death  or 
poverty  or  indigestion.  I  stopped  and 
spoke  to  him  sympathetically. 

"  Billy,"  I  said,  "  was  it  a  filling  ?  " 

"I  suppose  it  may  have  been,"  said 
Billy.  He  seemed  glad  to  see  me,  but 
lie  spoke  very  calmly,  as  men  speak 
after  an  accident  in  which  there  has 
been  great  loss  of  life.  "  They  tipped 
me  horizontal  in  the  chair,"  ho  said 
gravely  ;  "  they  strapped  me  to  one  of 
my  own  teeth  ;  they  probed  me  to  find 
which  part  hurt  most ;  after  they  had 
found  it,  they  tore  a  great  jagged  hole 
there  with  the  electric  torturer,  and 
filled  it  with  a  cartload  of  putty  ;  and 
then  they  said,  'That's  all  we  have 
time  for  to-day.  Come  in  for  a  wedge 
to-morrow  and  wo  '11  take  it  out  the  day 
after  and  meddle  with  the  putty  the 
day  after  that.  Then  next  Saturday 
afternoon,  if  it's  nice  sunny  weather, 
we  may  have  a  chance  to  get  round  to 
this  great  big  painful  fellow  that 's 
dying  by  inches  up  in  the  back  of  your 
head.'  " 

Billy  mused.  "  To-morrow,  and  to- 
morrow, and  to-morrow,"  Ii3  quoted 
bitt3rly. 

"  Come,  come,  Billy,"  I  said.  "  Pull 
yourself  together.  You  are  an  optimist. 
Try  to  see  the  bright  side  of  the 
thing." 

;  I  suppose  there  is  one,"  said  Billy 
meditatively.  And  at  last  I  saw  the 
old  gleam  of  cheerfulness  in  his  eye. 

"I  have  it,"li3  ciiel.  "Perhaps  the 
thing  has  its  use  after  all.  In  these 
days  of  disarmament  and  universal 
peace,  our  young  men  will  become  pink 
and  mild  and  flabby  unless  we  offer  a 
substitute  for  war.  The  substitute  is 
ready:  for  the  heroism  of  the  battle- 
field the  heroism  of  the  dentist-chair. 
There  's  romance  for  you  !  " 

Somehow  I  wasn't  convinced.  "  It 
won't  go,"  I  insisted.  "  Romance  is 
dead.  Chivalry  is  dead.  I  fail  to  see  the 


Purchaser.  "Bci  YOU  HAD  IT  MARKED  FIVE  SHILLINGS  YESTERDAY?" 
Dealer  in  Odds  and  Ends.  "  AH,  YES  ;   BUT  LAST  NIGHT  I  VASH  HIM  AND  DE  KAMI:  I  FIXD 
ON  HIM  VELASQUEZ  ;   so  FOB  SURE  HE  is  VORTH  SEVEN-ASD-SIXPENCE." 


glamour  of  dentistry.  Your  optimism  is 
misplaced." 

But  Billy  stood  enraptured  with  his 
own  idea.  The  smiles  broke  out  all 
over  his  face  like  a  rash.  "  Think  of 
it,"  he  cried,  "  the  war  of  the  next 
century — the  call  to  the  front — the 
young  men  going  out  one  by  one  from 
the  comfortable  waiting-room,  with  its 
pile:I  magazines  and  pleasant  news- 
papers, to — they  know  not  what  1 
Ambrose,  the  call  has  come.  Bring  me 
my  toothbrush.  Already  I  seem  to  see 
the  white-coated  enemy  and  the  light 
flashing  from  the  weapons  of  war.  I 


march  to  my  doom  in  silence.  No 
drums  beat  .  .  .  Yes,  I  am  ready  .  .  . 
Bzzz  .  .  bzzz  .  .  bzzzz  .  .  No,  thanks, 
I  am  not  badly  wounded ;  it  is  a  mere 
scratch  in  the  gum.  They  have  shot 
me  full  of  gold  and  silver,  but  they 
cannot  kill  me.  Half-a-tootli,  half-a- 
tooth,  half-a-tooth  onward  I  Ah,  the 
Eomance  of  War!  " 

Billy  was  an  optimist  again. 

Encouraging  Crime. 

"Fornand  Rassani,  For  hardly  beating  his 
donkey,  fined  P.T.  100  and  Costs." 

Egyptian  Mail. 


370 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


THE    MONKEY. 

"  IT  's  a  funny  thing,"  said  the  girl  who  helped  in  the 
Flat,  "  'ow  you  seem  to  be  goin'  along  quite  smooth  one 
minute,  with  everybody  smilin'  at  you  and  thinkin'  what 
fine  piople  you  are — you  know  what  I  mean — and  the  next 
minute  suthin'  'appens  and  you're  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
street  chasin'  after  your  umhreller  or  your  'at  and  all  the 
motor-'buses  a-top  of  you.  That 's  the  sort  o'  thing  that 
'appened  to  Mrs.  Wortle  when  she  took  a  lodger;  not 
through  'er  meanin'  of  it,  o'  course,  but  sudden  like,  jest  as 
if  she'd  got  into  the  wind  and  it  took  'er  orf  of  'er  legs,  as 
the  sayin'  is.  We  shouldn't  'a'  minded  that  so  much,  but  it 
ketched  father  and  mother  too  before  it  'ad  done  and  give 
'em  a  nawsty  slap. 

"  Mrs.  Wortle  lives  next  door  to  us :  she 's  seen  better 
days.  She  often  drops  in  on  mother  and  tells  'er  about  the 
great  things  she  used  to  do — 'Ampton  Court  Palis,  or  the 
'Spaniards'  at  'Ampstead  'Eath,  and  sultana  kikes  and 
'am  sangwiches,  no  end  of  a  set-out  all  the  year  round,  if 
you  can  believe  what  she  says.  Mother  plays  up  to  'er  and 
sets  'er  goin'.  '  Mrs.  Wortle,'  she  says,  '  tell  us  the  story,' 
she  says, '  about  Mr.  Wortle  ketchin'  the  perliceman  a  crack 
o'  the  jor'; '  or,  '  Won't  you  oblige  us  with  that  bit  about 
Mr.  Wortle  and  the  bottle  o'  chempine  when  the  cork 
wouldn't  come  out?'  and  then  the  old  girl  winds  'erself  up 
and  orf  she  goes  so 's  you  can't  stop  'er.  She  says  it  does 
'er  good  to  talk  about  the  times  when  there  was  always 
a  ten-pun'  note  to  spend  and  no  questions  asked. 

"  Well,  she  made  up  'er  mind  to  take  a  lodger,  and  a 
fortnit  ago  come  next  Friday  she  got  one.  A  Bo'emian  'e 
was,  a  brown-lookin'  man  with  no  end  o'  black  'air  on  'is 
'ead,  and  a  black  mustarch  and  a  lot  o'  white  to  'is  eyes. 
'E  worked'  for  a  cabinet-maker  and  played  the  guitar,  but 
'is  name  I  can't  rightly  misremember.  It  was  like  sneezin' 
or  crackin'  walnuts  in  your  teeth.  Sometimes  I  could  say 
it  once,  but  if  I  tried  again  it  'd  mike  me  bust  with  larfin', 
so  I  give  it  up.  O'  course  'e  couldn't  talk  English  beyond 
sayin'  'Ow  de  do,  or  God  save  the  King,  or  cawfy  and  milk, 
and  that  don't  tike  you  far.  Then  'e  'd  go  off  in  'is  own 
Bo'emian,  and  that  sounded  sorter  silly  to  me,  like  cats 
quarrellin' ;  but  all  furriners  is  like  that.  'Ow  they  ever 
get  along  at  all  is  more  'n  I  can  understand. 

"  This  Bo'emian  'ad  a  monkey  with  him,  a  bit  of  a  thing 
no  bigger  'n  a  puppy-dog,  the  funniest  little  atomy  you  ever 
see,  all  chatter  and  mikin'  fices,  as  you  may  say.  It 
snuggled  in  'is  coat  and  seemed  as  clever  as  a  Christian. 
It  took  Mrs.  Wortle  all  of  a  nonplush  when  she  set  eyes  on 
it,  and  at  fust  she  said  she  couldn't  'ave  a  monkey  lodgin' 
in  'er  'ouse.  She  was  sure  Mr.  Wortle  wouldn't  'a'  liked  it 
if  'e  could  'a'  come  from  the  grave — them  was  the  words 
she  said.  But  when  the  Bo'emian  set  the  little  feller  down 
and  'e  got  to  work  pertendin'  to  ketch  fleas  in  the  mat 
afore  the  fireplace,  and  then  turned  'ead  over  'eels  all  round 
the  room,  she  give  in.  She.  said  it  was  enough  to  mike  a 
cat  larf. 

"  It  was  a  Friday  when  the  Bo'emian  come  in  to 
Mrs.  Wortle's  with  'is  box  and  'is  monkey,  and  on  Sunday 
father  missed  'is  pipe  and  mother  couldn't  find  'er  Sunday 
cap.  A  fine  "unt  there  was  all  over  the  'ouse,  but  we 
couldn't  pitch  on  'em  no'ow.  The  back  winders  'ad  bin 
open,  but  nobody  paid  no  attention  to  that.  The  same  day 
Mrs.  Wortle  told  us  she  'd  lost  a  phortygraft  frame,  brass 
and  red  plush.  She  'ighly  valued  it,  because  she'd  meant 
to  put  a  picture  of  Mr.  Wortle  in  it,  but  'e  got  the  dropsy 
before  'e  could  git  'is  phortygraft  took,  and  she  'd  kep  it 
empty  to  remember  'im  by.  Monday  was  washin'  day,  and 
that  arternoon  the  linen  was  'ung  out  in  the  backyards  all 
along  our  row  of  'ouses.  It's  a  pretty  sight  to  see  it 


blowin'  about,  mikin'  shipes  like  men  and  women  and  all 
lookin'  so  fat  and  funny.  Arter  tea  that  day  I  'appened 
to  he  lookin'  out  o'  the  back  winder.  All  of  a  sudden 
I  see  there  was  no  linen  on  Mrs.  Wortle's  lines.  It 
was  all  lyin'  on  the  ground  any'ow.  Then  I  took  another 
look  and,  would  you  believe  it,  I  see  that  there  mischievious 
monkey  come  over  the  wall  and  ketch  'old  of  our  line. 
Then  'e  swings  'isself  along,  and  before  you  could  say  old 
'Any  'e  'd  pinched  all  the  pegs  orf  o'  the  line  and  chucked 
'em  away,  and  down  went  father's  shirts  and  'is  drawers 
and  mother's  things  and  mine  into  the  mud.  Such  a 
set-out  you  never  saw !  I  'ollered  blue  murder,  and  the 
Bo'emian  puts  'is  black  'ead  out  and  whistles  to  'is  monkey; 
but  the  saucy  little  feller  'ad  tied  'isself  up  in  one  o' 
mother's  petticoats  and  'e  couldn't  get  out.  The  Bo'emian 
'ad  to  come  round  and  fetch  'im.  That  was  the  end  o' 
Mrs.  Wortle's  lodger.  She  'ad  to  git  rid  of  'im,  o'  course. 
They  found  father's  pipe  all  gnawed  to  bits  and  a  piece  o' 
the  phortygraft  frame  in  the  monkey's  box ;  but  what 
became  o'  mother's  cap  we  never  rightly  knew.  I  reckon 
the  monkey  must  'a'  swallered  it." 


TO    A    DACHSHUND    IN    SPRINGTIME. 
PETER,  the  Spring — see  ALFRED'S  panegyric — 

Which  makes  the  wanton  lapwing  change  his  crest 
And  spurs  the  half-pay  Colonel  to  a  lyric, 
Finds  you  a  bit  depressed. 

Now  the  rathe  primrose  coyly  pranks  the  dingle, 

An  azure  sky  is  in  the  lake  portrayed ; 
A  marked  disinclination  to  be  single 
Affects  both  youth  and  maid. 

The  lambkins,  marvelling  how  meads  grow  daisied, 

Curvet  in  joyous  nescience  of  the  hint 

Conveyed  by  garden  plots,  wherein  is  raised 

The  surely  crescent  mint. 

Peter,  these  portents  of  the  vernal  season 

Wake  no  response  within  your  ample  chest ; 
You  have  your  private  and  conclusive  reason 
For  liking  Winter  best. 

To-day,  when  winds  blew  chill,  wo  walked  the  faster ; 

When  we  reached  home  again,  a  gentle  cough 
And  sadly  plaintive  look  accused  me — "  Master, 
Our  parlour  fire  is  off." 

Yet,  since  your  sense  of  etiquette  is  rigid, 

You  stayed  awhile  with  me,  crouched  on  the  floor ; 
Long  shiverings  shook  you ;  and  then,  semi-frigid, 
You  snuffled  at  the  door. 

I  opened,  and  with  anguish  almost  human 

You  left  the  hearth-rug  home  of  your  desire, 
And  toddled  off  to  Cook,  that  thoughtful  woman, 
Who  always  has  a  fire. 


From  a  bioscope  advt.  in  The  Statesman  :— 
1 '  Anni VAL  IN  BOMBAY  OP 
LORD    WILLINGDON, 

The  New  Governor, 
AND  DEPARTUBE  OP 
LORD    SYDENHAM, 

AND 

ALSO  THREE  OTHEB  LATEST  COMICS." 
Who  are  Lord  SYDENHAM'S  colleagues  ? 


"  There  is,  of  course,  a  possibility  that  Austria  is  taking  her  chance 
of  a  policy  of  bluff  in  proposing  to  take  the  bit  into  her  teeth  by 
taking  matters  in  her  own  hand."' — Manchester  Evening  News. 

Can't  she  do  something  with  her  foot  ? 


MAY  7,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


371 


Sympathetic  Voice  (in  the  distance).  "How  ARE  you  GETTING  ON,  OLD  MAN?" 

Sanguine  Beginiier.  "FIRST-RATE.     JUST  MADE  THREE  PERFECT  PUTTS  ON  THE  LAST  CHEEN." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
As  a  reviewer  I  could  wish  that  every  book  were  as  short 
as  The  Open  Window  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL),  except  The 
Open  Windoiv  itself.  In  whatever  capacity  I  had  read  it,  I 
must  have  found  too  fleeting  a  pleasure  in  Mr.  E.  TEMPLE 
THUHSTON'S  note-book  of  a  country  parson,  a  diary  senti- 
mental in  the  best  sense  of  that  word.  One  may  write  of 
(lowers  and  birds  with  the  utmost  delicacy  and  grace,  and 
may  touch  upon  the  sorrow  of  a  dying  wife,  and  an  only 
daughter  leaving  for  a  far  corner  of  the  world,  with  a 
melancholy  the  most  quiet  and  restrained,  and  yet  may 
leave  the  reader  suspicious  of  effeminacy  and  clamorous 
for  the  virile  and  robust.  Mr.  THUKSTON'S  humour  and 
humanity  have  kept  him  admirably  clear  of  this  fault.  He 
has  avoided  that  maudlin  hypersensitiveness  epidemic  in  an 
age  of  literature  which  is  possibly  too  little  sympathetic 
with  the  small  boy,  whose  catapult,  on  page  133,  brought 
down  the  bullfinch,  and  too  much  inclined  to  dote  upon  the 
sweet  lady  who,  at  page  135,  buried  that  bullfinch  in  her 
garden  and  put  up  a  little  gravestone  to  remember  it  by. 
Myself,  I  was  for  the  sportsman ;  after  all,  he  was  there  to 
protect  the  cherry  blossom,  and,  if  he  chose  a  sinful  way  of 
doing  it,  that  was  his  business  and  a  matter  he  must 
account  for  to  others  than  officious  passers-by.  If  the 
diarist,  on  the  other  hand,  is  all  for  the  interfering  lady,  he 
is  yet  so  pleasant  and  modest  about  it  that  the  difference 
of  opinion  doesn't  rankle,  and  the  conclusion  is  that  some 
think  one  way  and  some  another  and  both  are  as  right  as 
they  are  wrong. 

I  don't  know  that  I  equally  approve  of  the  sketches  of 


Mr.  CHAKLES  ROBINSON,  interspersed  throughout.  They 
are  pretty  and  dainty,  but  lack  definiteness  and  substance. 
There  is,  however,  one  astonishing  exception,  the  oddness 
of  which  I  attribute  to  some  fault  in  the  reproduction.  It 
is  just  intelligible  that  the  gentleman  who  on  the  cover  is 
shown  to  be  looking  through  the  open  window  should  be 
in  striped  pyjamas,  but  there  is  no  excuse  for  his  having 
the  face  of  an  unmistakable  negro  and  an  habitual  criminal 
to  boot. 

The  Heart  of  the  Hills  (CONSTABLE)  is  the  most  thoroughly 
American  novel  that  I  have  encountered  for  some  time. 
Your  first  impression  is  likely  to  be  one  of  admiration  for 
the  fidelity  with  which  Transatlantic  idiom  has  been  re- 
produced in  the  dialogue ;  later  you  will  note  with  interest 
that  the  explanatory  passages  are  also  written  in  the  same 
style.  I  fancy  that  Mr.  JOHN  Fox,  Jr.  (by  the  way,  why 
Jr.,  and  who  is  the  other  cne?)  enjoys  a  reputation  in 
God's  Own  Country  which  .has  escaped  me  over  here.  I 
hasten  to  add  that  if  so  it  is  thoroughly  deserved.  The 
story  of  a  vendetta  among  the  mountain  settlers  is  told  in 
a  way  that  grips  attention  by  many  qualities.  It  is  also  an 
extraordinary  history  for  twentieth-century  readers  to  hear 
of  their  own  times  and  a  so-called  civilized  country.  Because 
the  boy  Jason's  father,  a  Hawn,  had  apparently  been  shot 
by  one  of  the  Honeycutts,  it  seems  to  have  been  indisputedly 
Jason's  mission  in  life  to  even  the  score.  The  final  scene, 
in  which  the  two  aged  heads  of  the  rival  houses  encounter 
in  a  pass,  and  batter  each  other  with  enfeebled  fists  till  the 
loss  of  their  spectacles  and  the  arrival  of  the  now  reconciled 
sons  put  an  end  to  the  fray,  is  one  that  lingers  in  the 
memory  for  its  grim  humour.  When  the  author  camo 


372 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  7,  1913. 


down  to  the  plains  the  book  did  not  thrill  me  so  much  ;  as 
here  the  political  contests  of  Eepublicans  and  Democrats 
too  local  not  to  be  sadly  bewildering  to  the  English 


Time's  Wallet  (SIDGWICK  AND  JACKSON),  because  the 
authors,  LUCY  DALE  and  G.  M.  FAULDING,  have  got  nearer 
the  real  thing  than  is  generally  the  case  with  books  of  this 


mind.  One  thing  I  should  have  liked  more  of,  and  ( kind.  They  succeed  fairly  well  in  making  me  forgot  that 
that  is  the  drawings  of  Mr.  HAROLD  COPPING,  whoso  the  letters  are  written  in  cold  blood  by  themselves  for  the 
single  illustration  is  alone  well  worth  the  price  of  the  !  eye  of  the  public.  Almost  they  persuade  me  to  believe  that 

fl^A        f\*-r»       xvru-non  _  fv*ian*3a        U». 


book. 


Several  people,  wanting  dif- 
ferent magic  doors  opened  to 
faith,  to  love,  to  fame,  to  wealth, 
say  "  Open  Sesame  "  in  the 
novel  of  that  name  by  B.  PAUL 
NEUMAN  (MURRAY)  ;  and  for 
some  the  miracle  happens,  for 
others  it  simply  doesn't,  which 
is  the  orthodox  way  of  miracles. 
The  most  interesting  failure  is 
that  of  William  Henry  Portcous, 
destined  for  the  Church  and 
choosing  to  be  a  healer  and  to 
run  a  church  of  his  own.  It  is 
a  curious,  a  clever,  and,  so  far 
as  one  has  data  for  judging,  a 
sound  study  of  a  flat,  ppmpous 
young  man  with  some  strange 
gift  of  personal  magnetism  but 
no  sincerity  of  conviction  or 
depth  of  character,  who  succeeds 
in  his  first  healing  ventures, 
but  fails  in  his  public  test, 
bringing  down  his  reputation, 
his  health  and  "  the  Church  of 
the  Gifts  "  in  a  common  ruin. 
I  can't  think,  however,  that  it 
is  an  artistic  achievement  to 
give  so  much  of  this  poor 
victim's,  conversation  when  his 
wits  are  gone.  The  task  of 
extracting  pathos  out  of  this 
kind  of  horrible  inconsequence 
is  surely  too  easy  to  be  worth 
doing.  Perhaps  it  isn't  quite 
fair  to  assume  that  an  author's 
best  portraits  are  photographic 
studies  from  actual  life,  and  so 
to  seem  to  deny  the  faculty  of 
creation,  but  F&liciie.  Gaye,  suc- 
cessful milliner  and  wife  of  a 
business  man  unsuccessful  to 
the  point  of  dishonesty,  is  too 
good  to  be  untrue.  Hard,  cyni- 
cal, brutally  outspoken,  she  is 
without  faith  and  without  hope, 
except  that  she  may  wear  her 
mask  to  the  end  and  face  the 
utterly  feared  adventure  of  death 
without  breaking  down.  Mr.  NEUMAN  has  shown  a  very 
signal  skill  in  the  delineation  of  these  two  portraits  -which 
hang  in  a  notable  gallery  with  many  others.  But  "hang"  is 
not  quite  the  word.  They  walk,  very  much  alive.  It  is  the 

1    .  /~\  •  T  1      T\         111  1    t        i  ''.., 


AMATKUR   THEATRICALS. 


CAST  FOB  THE  PART  OP  SCUFFLES  Mil.  MoNTMORENCY  IS 
SHOWN,  BY  THE  STAGE  MANAGER,  A  POSTER  OF  THE  LATE  Mil. 
CHARLES  DOMBVILLE  IN  THE  CHARACTER,  AND  TOLD  TO  MAKE 
HIMSELF  UP  AS  MUCH  LIKE  THAT  AS  HE  CAS  FOB  DRESS- 
REHEARSAL. 


the  two  women  -  friends  by 
whom  they  are  supposed  to  be 
written  did  actually  pen  them 
and  post  them  and  open  them, 
chiefly  in  London,  Italy,  and 
Switzerland.  Each  of  the  two 
had  a  baddish  time  at  one 
period  of  her  life,  tile  one  before 
the  story  begins  (which  is  why 
she  went  abroad),  the  other 
after,  because  she  very  impru- 
dently came  near  to  marrying  the 
wrong  man.  But  the  authors 
intervened,  and  since  all 's  well 
that  ends  well  neither  she  nor 
her  friend  was  really  very  much 
to  be  pitied.  Au  coiitrairc,  as 
the  Frenchman  said  in  mid- 
Channel  when  he  was  asked  if 
Monsieur  had  bien  dcjeime.  For, 
like  the  indifferent  sailor,  they 
enjoyed  their  happiness  all  the 
more,  when  it  arrived,  for  their 
previous  sufferings.  Altogether 
I  rather  like  both  the  letters  and 
the  characters  that  they  reveal. 

The  Tramp  of  Mr.  LAURENCE 
OnrHANT  (CONSTABLE)  is  an 
Oxford  graduate  and  a  poet  of 
so  considerable  a  talent  that  no 
publisher  will  have  anything  to 
do  with  him.  Naturally.  He 
is  original  enough  to  live  on  the 
open  road  and  his  patrimony  of 
iil'teen  pounds  a  year,  supple- 
mented by  the  wages  of  rasp- 
berry -  picking  in  Blairgowrie 
(N.B.),  where  he  meets,  among 
the  lost  souls  of  the  woild,  a 
simple,  unsullied  maid,  star-eyed 
and  black-haired,  and  the  twain 
fall  into  innocent  love.  Then, 
of  course,  as  lovers  use  (in 
novels),  Christopher,  the  tramp, 
goes  away  from  Jess  and  stays 
away,  silent,  for  two  years; 
makes  as  great  a  success  in 
London  as  he  had  previously 
made  a  failure ;  and,  after  a  brief 
passionate  episode  with  the  wife 

of  a  friend,  fares  back  to  Jess  and  idyllic  simplicity. 
But  I  cannot  think  that  they  would  really  have  been 
happy  for  ever  after,  for  Chris  is  a  moody  devil  and  some- 
thing very  near  the  complete  "  prigoist."  Mr.  OLIPHANT 

lovers,  Cyril  and  Bedelpha,  Alpha  and  Connie,  whose  "Open  describes  his  fruit-pickers  with   conviction,  as   if   he  had 

Sesame "   is   effective,   as   the   author  doubtless,   and   not ;  studied  them  from  the  life.     The  treatment  of  the  literary 

without   mystical   intent,  designed. 

of  work. 


HE  DOES  so. 


very  clever  piece '  side  of  Christopher's  career  is  in  the  approved  naive  manner 
of  conventional   fiction,   with   critics   "  condemning   to  a 


Most  people  hate  writing  letters.  For  myself,  as  a  rule, 
I  dislike  still  more  reading  them,  when  they  take  the  form 
of  a  novel.  But  I  must  make  an  exception  in  favour  of 


man"  and  so  forth.  The  making  of  the  infamous,  woman- 
exploiting  wastrel,  Lloyd,  into  a  "paid  Socialist  agitator" 
is  one  of  those  stupid  pieces  of  prejudiced  stereotyping 
which  have  no  sort  of  justification  for  open  minds. 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHA1UVAUI. 


373 


CHARIVARIA. 

"  UNTO  the  world's  end,"  says  the 
Gorman  CHOWN  PRINCE,  "  the  sword 
will  nlways  ho  tlio  decisive  factor  at 
the  last."  This  authoritative  state- 
ment has  caused  keen  satisfaction  to 
the  champions  of  I'arme  blanche,  which 
has  latterly  been  suspect  in  certain 
high  military  circles. 

Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  complained 


enable  the  animals  to  be  seen  in  their  ]  It  is  proposed  to  form  a  "  Museum  of 
wild  state.  The  design  is  by  Mr.  JOHN  the  Drama."  Wo  know  one  or  two 
BELCHEU,  R.A.,  and  Mr.  JOASS.  It  actors  who  might  form  a  nucleus  for 
was  a  happy  thought  to  call  in  the  such  an  exhibition. 


Joass  to  assist. 

Last  week  nearly  all  our  daily  papers 


Messrs.  HUTCHINSON   are   about    to 
publish    a   volume  entitled  "  How   to 


paper  in  the  world"  in  their  advertise- 
ment columns ;  but  this  confession  of 
their  own  inferiority  hurt  some  of  them 
frightfully,  and  these  would  like  it  to 


at  the  Academy  Banquet  that  ho  could   be  known  that  they  do  not  vouch  for 


find  no  connection  between  art  and 
the  modern  battleship.  What  a  pity 
that  Lord  CHARLES  BERESFORD  and 
Sir  PEBCY  SCOTT  were  not  present. 
They  could  have  discussed  whether  the 
Paint-Brush  is  mightier  than  the  Gun. 


described  The  Times  as  "  the  best  news-  j  Listen  to  an  Orchestra."  Tbe  announce- 

mant  interests  us.  In  the  case  of  some 
orchestras  the  only  way  is  to  be  strapped 
to  one's  seat.  <:  ... 

Illustrations  showing  the  correct  and 
the  incorrect  way  of  alighting  from 
omnibuses  now  appear  on  the  front 
of  many  of  these  vehicles.  To  study 
these  propsrly  you  must  stand  in  the 
middle  of  the  road  while  the  'bus  is 
bearing  down  on  you.  ^  ^ 

" 


the  accuracy  of  statements  appearing 
in  their  advertisement  columns. 

;;:  |  if 

Among  the  persons  arrested  for  riot- 
ing in  Trafalgar  Square,  at  the  "  Bight 
to  Speak  "  meeting,  was  an  individual 


The  PRESIDENT  OF  THE 
BOARD  OF  EDUCATION  has 
thrown  cold  water  on  the 
suggestion  that  the  ad- 
mirable teachings  of  the 
Boy  Scout  movement 
shall  be  introduced  into 
our  elementary  schools. 
Mr.  PEASE  fears  that  it 
would  be  looked  upon  as 
Militarism.  "  If  you  wish 
for  War,  prepare  for 
Pease."  ...  ,;. 

Mr.  C.  E.  HOBHOUSE, 
in  touching  on  matters 
military  in  a  speech  at 
Wrexham,  seems  to  have  ' 
offered  a  thinly  veiled 
insult  to  Lord  EGBERTS 
by  referring  to  "dis- 
tinguished soldiers  who 
perhaps  have  outlived 
their  days  of  usefulness." 
Well,  some  of  us  (to  be 
equally  tactful  in  the  avoidance  of 
names), — some  of  us  are  safe  from  the 
fear  of  that  reproof. 

!):  ^  :;: 

Considerable  indignation  has  besn 
aroused  among  French  murderers — 
who,  as  a  class,  are  exceptionally 
touchy — by  the  fact  that,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  execution  of  the  motor- 
bandits,  the  headsman  wore  a  lounge 
suit  and  a  bowler  instead  of  the 
regulation  frock-coat  and  high  hat. 


Benevolent  Lady  (at  Whitsuntide  school  treat).  "WELL,  LIZZIE,  AND  WHO'S 

YOUR  LITTLE   FRIEND?" 


Lizzie.  "' LITTLE  FRIEND,'  Miss  SMIFF? 
THAT'S  ME  FELLER \  " 


THAT  AIN'T  ME  'LITTLE  FRIEND;  ' 


From  a  census  of 
buildings  just  published 
it  appears  that  to  every 
100,000  of  its  population 
London  has  forty  -  five 
places  of  worship,  but 
only  six  theatres.  The 
scandal  is  the  talk  of 
theatrical  circles. 

:;:     ff 

A  real  Parisian  Eevue, 
imported  direct  from 
Paris,  has  been  produced 
at  the  New  Middlesex 
Theatre.  To  persons 
unacquainted  with  the 
French  language  it  is 
almost  as  difficult  to  ap- 
preciate as  an  English 
.Revue.  $  ... 

KINO  NICHOLAS,  by 
giving  way  in  regard  to 


The  latest 


* 
arrivals 


at  the  Zoo  in- 


clude some  fine  specimens  of  "  walking 
leaves."  Not  the  least  admirable 
characteristic  of  these  creatures  is  their 
quietness  and  amiability,  and  the  state- 
ment that  one  had  picked  a  quarrel 
with  a  lion  is  a  slander. 
# :  * 

In  the  Architectural  Eoo:n  at  the 
Eoyal  Academy  there  is  a  model  of 
the  terraces  to  be  built  at  the  Zoo  to 


described  as  an  "  artist's  improver." 
This  is  the  first  time  we  have  heard  of 
this  useful  profession  and,  on  enquiry 
at  the  Eoyal  Academy,  we  found  that 
it  was  unknown  there. 

*  * 
* 

The  recent  burning  of  a  church  is 
attributed  to  the  militant  Suffragettes. 
This  sort  of  thing  is  perhaps  not  the 
most  tactful  way  of  trying  to  keep  on 

the  side  of  the  angels. 

*  t* 

The  humanity  of  our  judges  is  well 
known.  Of  a  lady  who  brought  an 
action  for  breach  of  promise  against 
a  man  who  had  jilted  her  after  fifteen 
years,  Mr.  Justice  BUCKNILL  said  last 
week  :  "  My  personal  impression  of  her 
is  that  she  is  an  educated  and  nice 
person.  At  any.rate,  she  is  '  all  there,' 
and  for  my  part  I  cannot  see  why  she 
should  remain  a  spinster  all  her  life." 
Armed  with  this  testimonial  the  lady 
should  have  no  difficulty. 


Skutari,  has  saved  the 
Powers  from  humilia- 
tion, and  there  is  some  talk  of  the 
Ambassadors  presenting  him  with  an 
illuminated  testimonial. 

Tokio  possesses  a  Centenarians'  Club. 
The  terms  for  life  membership  are  said 
to  be  most  moderate. 


Swing-time. 

"  In  perfect  weather,  with  swifts  screaming 
above  and  birds  swinging  in  every  tree  the 
children  of  the  Bands  of  Hope  from  Keswick 
and  neighbouring  hamlets  held  their  Slaytime 
festival." — Yorkshire  Post. 
Cockatoos  must  be  a  new  feature  of  the 
Lake  District,  or  is  it  just  the  native 
bird  that  has  Caught  the  spirit  of  the 
holiday  folk  at  their  swings  ? 

"Mr.  Walter  Cunliffe,  Deputy  Governor  of 
the  Bank  of  England,  has  been  appointed 
Deputy  Governor."— Times  of  Ceylon. 
This  is  headed  (and  we  cordially 
associate  ourselves  with  the  sentiment) 
"  BRAVO,  MR.  CUNLIFFE  ! " 


374 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


TWO    ON    THE    ADRIATIC. 

ITALY  TO  AUSTRIA. 

[The  following  remarks  are  ready  for  delivery  to  Austria  in  case  she 
reverts  to  her  original  intention  of  undertaking  the  noblo  task  of 
Albania's  reconstruction.] 

0  DUAL  one,  whose  love  has  often  sent  a 

Thrill  through  our  marrow,  chewing  memory's  cud, 
Mindful  of  days  inscribed  in  pure  Magenta, 
The  colour  (loosely)  of  our  confluent  blood  ; 

O  bound  by  bonds  of  holiest  alliance, 
One  of  a  triplet,  Europe's  mailed  police, 

Who  at  the  trembling  nations  fling  defiance 
As  deadly  guardians  of  the  gates  of  Peace ; 

Kumour  arrives  that  you,  O  Austria-Hungary, 
Stung  by  desire  of  sweetness  and  of  light, 

Propose  to  plunge  your  martial  ironmongery 
Into  Albania's  mess  and  put  it  right. 

Your  record  as  a  Christian  civilizer 

Stamps  you  for  that  high  quest  supremely  fit, 

Yet  we  should  love  (by  leave  of  WILLIAM  KAISER) 
To  join  you  in  the  job  and  do  our  bit. 

How  cleverly  we  handle  heathen  races 
Let  Tripoli  be  witness ;  well  she  knows 

That,  if  our  voice  but  breathe  o'er  desert  places, 
Almost  at  once  they  blossom  like  the  rose. 

So  where  you  go  we  too  intend  to  follow, 
Bringing  to  arid  scenes  the  smile  of  May, 

Playing,  in  fact,  the  role  of  second  swallow, 
Earnest  that  Spring  has  really  come  to  stay. 

And,  should  a  very  natural  lust  for  booty 

Nestle  beneath  your  altruistic  airs, 
We  '11  gladly  undertake  detective  duty 

Or  halve  the  scandal  for  you,  going  shares. 

In  fine,  if  someone— not  a  local  bandit — 

Is  bound  to  do  this  sacrificial  work, 
With  or  without  a  European  mandate, 

And  'tis  a  task  you  feel  you  may  not  shirk  ; 

We  hardly  like  to  let  a  sister  nation 

Tackle  alone  so  perilous  a  "  sphere  " ; 
So  you  may  count  on  Eome's  co-operation ; 

We  shall  be  there  all  right.    Good-bye,  my  dear. 
O.  S. 

THE  GRATUITY. 

I  WAS,  of  course,  in  no  way  responsible  for  the  waiters 
at  the  Bullionberg.  Yet,  because  Millicent  and  her  mother 
were  dining  with  me,  I  experienced  an  uneasy  feeling  of 
guilt  at  the  shortcomings  of  our  particular  attendant. 
Perhaps  in  his  own  land  he  was  a  strolling  minstrel. 
I  cannot  vouch  for  the  musical  part  of  him,  but,  with 
the  exception  of  a  plumber,  who  once  worked  for  me 
within  the  speed  limit  of  his  union,  I  have  never  seen  a 
man  take  longer  over  doing  nothing. 

I  tried  kindness.  I  tried  sarcasm.  I  tried  firmness. 
I  tried  persuasion,  hauteur,  wrathfulness.  I  tried  every- 
thing. The  waiter,  on  the  contrary,  did  not  try  anything. 
He  succeeded  where  I  failed. 

Millicent  assured  me  that  she  in  no  way  minded  the 
interminable  intervals  so  excellent  (she  said)  for  the 
digestion.  Millicent's  mother  perjured  herself  in  turn  by 
remarking  that,  the  variation  in  temperature  between  luke- 
warm coffee  and  a  tepid  ice  being  small,  they  were  less 
detrimental  to  the  teeth. 


"  Deeds  spake  ever  louder  than  words,"  I  replied 
gratefully.  "Therefore,  instead  of  apologising  to  you.  I 
will  make  up  for  this  fiasco  by  inviting  you  to  dine  with 
me  aj  the  Tinywee  in  Soho." 

"  Agreed !  But  I  do  so  want  to  hear  you  tell  the  head- 
waiter  all  the  things  you  have  been  saying  about  him." 

"  No.  Deeds  again.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  Bullionberg 
not  to  tip  your  own  waiter  hut  to  slip  a  half-sovereign  into 
the  hand  of  the  chief-of-staff  on  leaving.  This  evening,  as 
a  mark  of  my  disapprobation,  I  intend  to  present  him  with 
a  shilling  instead." 

"  You  daren't." 

"  Daren't  1 "  I  protested,  and  glanced  uneasily  at  the 
head-waiter.  He  caught  my  eye,  smiled  politely,  and 
sauntered  towards  our  table. 

"  You  daren't,"  repeated  Millicent.  "  There  is  not  a  man 
living  that  dare  offer  a  shilling  tip  at  the  Bullionberg.  Ho 
will  telepath  it  all  over  the  building.  The  waiter  will 
trip  you  up  as  you  leave ;  the  cloak-room  man  will  brush 
your  hat  round  the  wrong  -  way;  and  the  commissionaire 
will  jam  your  thumb  in  the  door  of  your  car." 

"  I  don't  care,"  I  remarked  defiantly. 

"Well,  here  he  comes,"  she  whispered.  "  Now  look  him 
straight  in  the  eyes  and  give  him  the  shilling  with  a  few 
well-chosen  words ! " 

He  bowed  as  we  rose  to  depart,  and  for  some  time  I 
stood  fixing  his  eye  with  mine  in  stern,  unrelenting  silence. 
It  was  not  a  long  time.  Perhaps  a  second — perhaps  less. 
Meanwhile  I  directed  my  gaze  at  his  second  shirt  stud. 

"I  should  like,"  I  said,  "to  state  that  I  am  excessively 
dissatisfied  with  the  performance  of  the  waiter  responsible 
for  this  table." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Sir?  " 

I  repeated  my  sentence.   He  repeated  his. 

" The  waiting  here  is  rotten,"  I  explained.  "Not  only 
were  we  left  waiting  between  the  courses,  but  the  food, 
with  the  exception  of  the  ices,  was  cold  when  it  did  come." 

"  You  are  not  satisfied,  Sir?  " 

I  felt  that  I  was  losing  ground  before  his  suave  urbanity. 
My  small  stock  of  courage  was  ebbing  so  fast  that  I  was 
forced  to  take  immediate  action.  "  I  have  the  habit,"  I 
said,  "  or  perhaps  I  should  say  the  vice,  of  presenting  large 
gratuities  on  these  occasions."  I  groped  in  my  pocket  for  a 
shilling.  "  There — take  that.  It  is  only  a  tenth  part  of 
what  you  would  have  got  if  the  attendance  had  rr.et  with 
my  approval." 

He  gazed  at  the  coin  and  his  cheeks  flushed.  Ha 
stiffened  himself  up  and  bowed.  "Sir,"  he  said,  "if  you 
will  honour  the  Bullionberg  with  your  presence  on  somq 
future  occasion  I  shall  hope  to  see  your  satisfaction  recorded 
by  the  presentation  of  the  handsome  gratuity  which  your 
generosity  usually  prompts." 

I  retired  hastily.  I  would  have  preferred  to  have  my 
hat  brushed  the  wrong  way;  I  would  rather  have  faced 
even  his  scornful  wrath  than  this  polite  sarcasm. 

Millicent,  however,  took  a  different  view  of  his  conduct. 
"It  wasn't  sarcasm,"  she  said.  "It  was  real  admiration  of 
your  courage.'  You  are  the  only  man  living  who  has 
dared  to  give  him  a  nominal  tip  and  he  showed  his  respect 
for  your  bravery  by  treating  you  with  the  deference  he 
would  accord  to  a  national  hero.  Peter,  I  am  proud  of  you ! " 

Some  day  I  may  tell  her.  On  my  return  home  I  dis- 
covered that,  in  the  confusion  and  agony  of  the  moment,  I 
had  given  that  confounded  head-waiter  a  sovereign  in 
ipistake  for  a  shilling. 

And  now  I  can  never  dine  at  the  Bullionberg  again. 
In  my  dreams  I  see  him  standing  by  the  door,  his  face 
aglow  with  expectancy,  while  behind  him  hovers  the 
swiftest-footed  waiter  on  the  whole  staff. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MAY  14,   1913. 


KOAD    CLEAE? 

MONTENEGRIN  BANTAM  (having  got  out  of  the  way  at  the  last  moment).  "  HA !  HA !  GAVE  YOU  A 
NASTY  SCARE  THAT  TIME.  AND  YOUR  TROUBLES  AREN'T  OVER  YET.  YOU  'LL  FIND 
THAT  OLD  BIRD  ESS  AD  FURTHER  DOWN  THE  ROAD." 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


377 


I'K'KWICK  FOE  PARIS. 


TIIKIU:  may  luivo  baen  a  French 
translation  of  Pickwick  lor  many  yours, 
but  it  lias  only  just  come  my  way.  As 
\vil  li  many  another  book  in  that  alluring 
but  difficult  tongue,  I  owe  its  possession 
to  tho  enterprise  of  Messrs.  NELSON, 
who,  not  satisfied  with  reducing  the 
prico  of  novels  in  this  country  and 
causing  us  to  bang  our  sevenpences  at 
every  railway  station,  have  now  carried 
the  war  to  the  Continent  and  are 
making  many  even  of  the  best  foreign 
publishers  look  exceedingly  out-of-date. 

Before  mo  lies  Aventnres  de  M. 
Pickwick,  par  CHARLES  DICKENS,  in  the 
traduclion  de  P.  GROLIEB,  who  should 
at  once  ba  made  a  member  of  the  Box 
Club,  with  all  the  honours  that  go  with 
that  state ;  while  English  schoolmasters 
in  search  of  a  manual  by  which  the 
French  language  may  be  read  to  their 
pupils  without  tears  should  make  a 
note  of  this  book.  • 

I  do  not  say  that  the  translation  is 
perfect,  but  it  will  do.  There  may  be  a 
lack  of  tho  finest  raciness,  but  very 
much  of  the  immortal  work  has  crossed 
the  Channel  successfully.  Sam  Wellcr's 
curious  substitution  of  the  letter  "  V  " 
for  tho  letter  "  W "  disappears,  for 
instance.  M.  GROLIER  was  not  up  to 
that.  And  certain  of  his  idioms  go  too 
or  are  diluted.  To  give  an  example. 
Sam,  investigating  the  contents  of  the 
picnic  hamper  on  the  occasion  of  Mr. 
Picku'ick's  undue  partiality  to  cold 
punch,  addresses  the  Fat  Boy  as  "  Young 
touch-and-go."  M.  GKOLIEH  turns  this 
to  "jeunc  evaporc."  The  Fat  Boy,  I 
may  remark,  becomes  "  le  gros  garqon  " 
(without  capitals),  and  his  famous 
speech  to  old  Mr.  Wardle,  "  I  wants  to 
make  your  flesh  creep,"  is  watered 
down  to  "Je  veux  vousfaircfrissonner ! " 
Turning  on  to  the  delectable  Eatanswill 
passages  (no  effort  being  made  by 
M.  GROLIER  to  Gallicise  the  name  of 
that  borough)  we  meet  Mrs.  Leo  Hunter 
as  Madame  Chassclion. 

Now  and  then,  but  not  often,  M. 
GROLIER  translates  with  an  excess  of 
zeal,  as  when  Captain  Boldwig's  com- 
mand to  his  men,  "  Wheel  him  [Mr. 
Pickwick]  to  the  devil,"  becomes 
"  Roulcz-lc  d  tons  Ics  diables." 

But  let  us  look  at  a  more  extended 
passage.  Hero  is  Mr.  Jingle's  account 
of  his  friend  Sir  Thomas  Blazo' s  cricket 
match,  and  of  course  cricket  alone,  with- 
out any  of  these  breathless  trimmings, 
would  be  inexplicable  enough  to  the 
ordinary  French  reader.  "  It  must 
have  been  rather  a  warm  pursuit  in 
such  a  climate,"  was  Mr.  Pickwick's 
observation.  Mr.  Jingle  then  assures 
him  that  it  was.  Thus : 

-  Echauffant  ?    Dites  brulant !  grillant ! 


Nervous  Puttist. 

YOUB  COAT?" 


'  I  'M    SORKY   TO   TROUBLE    YOU,    BUT    WOULD    YOU    MIXD    BUTTOS1SQ    UP 


devorant !  Un  jour,  je  jouais  un  seul  guichet 
contro  mon  ami  le  colonel  sir  Thomas  Blazo, 
a  qui  ferait  le  plus  de  points.  Jouant  a  pile 
ou  face  qui  commencora,  je  gagne ;  sept  heures 
du  matin :  six  indigenes  pour  ramasser  les 
balles.  Je  commence.  Je  renvoie  toutes  les 
hallos  du  colonel.  Chaleur  intense !  Les 
indigenes  so  trouvent  mal.  On  les  emporte. 
Une  autre  demi-douzaine  los  remplace  ;  ils  so 
trouvont  mal  de  nu'me.  Blazo  joue,  soutenu 
par  deux  indigenes.  Hoi,  infatigable,  je  lui 
renvoie  toujours  ses  ballos.  Blazo  se  trouve 
mal  aussi.  Enfonci  le  colonel !  Moi,  je  ne 
veux  pas  cesser.  Quanko  Sambo  restait  seul. 
Le  soleil  etait  rouge,  les  crosses  brulaient 
comme  des  charbons  ardents,  les  balles 
avaient  des  boutons  de  chaleur.  Cinq  cent 
soixante-dix  points  I  Je  n'en  pouvais  plus. 
Quanko  recueille  un  resto  de  force.  Sa  balle 
renverse  mon  guichet ;  mais  jo  prends  un  bain, 
et  vais  diner. 

—  Et  quo  devint  ce  monsieur...     Chose? 
demanda  un  vieux  gentleman. 

—  Qui ?    Le  colonel  Blazo? 

—  Non,  1'autre  gentleman. 

—  Quanko  Sambo  ? 

—  Oui,  monsieur. 

—  Pauvre    Quanko !    n'en    releva    jamais, 
quitta  le  jeu,  quitta  la  vie,  mourut,  monsieur ! 

Kn  pronon9ant  ces  mots,  1'etrangorensevelit 


son  visage  dans  un  pot  d'ale.  Mais  etait-co 
pour  en  savourer  le  contenu,  ou  pour  cacher 
son  emotion  ?  ' ' 

That  last  passage  in  the  dialogue  is 
a  disappointment.  In  tho  deathless 
English  page  it  runs  (as  everyone  will 
remember),  "Poor  Quanko — never  re- 
covered it — bowled  on,  on  my  account, 
bowled  off,  on  his  own — died,  Sir." 

But  M.  GROLIER  cannot  bo  blamed 
for  this.  Jingle  and  Sam  Wetter  talked 
exclusively  for  Anglo-Saxons',  if  ever 
men  did.  They  are  no  more  conveyable 
into  French  than  ARISTIDE  BRUANT 
or  YVETTE  GUILBERT  into  English. 
But  Mr.  Pickn-ick — he  plants  his  foot 
on  the  soil  of  La  Belle  France  quite  as 
firmly  as  on  that  of  his  native  land.  I 
congratulate  the  many  French  readers 
to  whom  Messrs.  NELSON'S  enterprise 
is  now  introducing  him. 

A  Good  Thing  Spoilt. 

"UNQUENCHED  FlBE.      Just  Out." 

Publisher's  Advt.  in  "  Daily  'Telegraph." 


378 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


MUSICAL    NOTES. 

THE  gratifying  announcement  that 
Sir  UKHHKKT  BKKRBOHM  TKEE  will 
appear  on  the  operatic  boards,  during 
Mr.  BEECHAM'S  season,  in  STRAUSS'S 
.•1  nadne  at  Naxos,  has  not  only  caused 
musical  and  dramatic  circles  to  vibrate 
with  a  thrill  of  anticipatory  pleasure, 
but  it  has  precipitated  a  number  of 
similar  decisions  on  the  part  of  other 
eminent  servants  of  the  public.  In 


reclamatory  power  of  music  varies 
directly  with  the  skill  of  the  artist  and 
will  not  sanction  any  performances 
which  are  not  vouched  for  by  a  com- 
mittee of  experts,  including  Professor 
Granville  Bantock,  Mr.  Josef  Holbrooke, 
and  Dr.  Brian  O'Looney. 

The  statement  that  Signer  CARUSO  in 
receiving  £42,000  for  sixty  performances 
in  America  has  established  a  new  record 
in  artistic  remuneration  has'  elicited  a 


Sir  HERBERT  BEERHOIIM  TREE'S  case,  ]  strongly-worded  protest  from  Mr.  Bam- 
however,  the  plunge  had  already  been  berger,  the  famous  violinist,  and  son-in- 


prepared  by  his  impersonation  of  BEE- 
THOVEN, in  which  he  developed  alto- 
gether unexpected  talent  in  the  character 
of  a  lightning  composer. 

Perhaps  the  most  notable  of  these 
debuts  is  that  of  Sir 
GEORGE  ALEXANDER,  for 
whom  a  one-act  opera 
las  been  written  by 
LEONCAVALLO,  in  which 
he  will  sustain  the  rdle 
of  Alessandro  Scarlatti. 
SCARLATTI,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, composed  no 
fewer  than  five  hundred 
cantatas  and  one  hun- 
dred-and-twenty  operas, 
and  in  the  course  of  the  j 
opera,  which  occupies 
about  thirty-five  minutes, 
he  will  be  seen  composing 
about  two-hundred-and- 
fifty  of  these  works,  with 
the  assistance  of  a  new 
instrument,  called  the 
Wireless  Pianofortina. 
Sir  GEORGE  will  wear 
thecostumeof  the  period, 
including  the  famous 
creaseless  pantaloons  in- 


law  of  Sir  Pompey  Boldero,  F.R.S.L. 
Mr.  Bamberger  points  out  that  during 
his  last  tour  in  South  America  not  only 
did  his  receipts  average  £750  a  per- 
formance, or  about  7  per  cent,  higher 
than  Signer  CARUSO'S,  but  he  also  con- 


vented    by 
CELLINI. 


BENVENUTO 


Harassed  AuOwr  (annoy. >d  by  tlic  barking  of  a  dog).  "HAVE  YOU  TOLD  YOUR 
MISTRESS  THAT  DOG  MUST  BE  MADE  TO  STOP  BARKING?" 


Servant.  "PLEASE, 

BABY  'S   AWAKE." 


SIR,    MISTRESS   SAYS   IT   DOESN'T    MATTER    NOW    THAT 


Mr.  CYKIL  MAUDE'S  invasion  into  the 
realm  of  the  lyric  drama  will  be  con- 
fined to  the  ballet,  in  which  he  will 
tppear  with  the  Eussian  dancers  under 
the  alias  of  Tschukla  Maudkin.  He  is 
already  studying  the  language  diligently 
ind  has  attained  considerable  pro- 
iciency  in  the  Cyrillic  character  under 
;he  famous  Bessarabian  Archimandrite, 
Igor  Hopskotchky. 

*  if  =;: 

The  visit  of  a   famous  violinist  to 
Wormwood  Scrubbs  prison  last  Sunday, 
when  she  played  to  some  of  the  inmates, 
las  been  attended  by  some  altogether 
unexpected    results,    several    hundred 
amateurs  having  volunteered  their  ser- 
vices in  a  similar  capacity.  The  matter  is 
eceiving  the  most  careful  consideration 
rom  Mr.  McKENNA ;  but  we  understand 
hat  he  is  inclined  to  think  that  the 


HOW  TO    DECLINE. 

I  MANOEUVRED  Charles  into  the  lowest 
of  the  easy-chairs,  and  then  assumed  a 
tactical  position  (or  is  it  strategic  ? — I 
never  know)  on  the  hearth-rug. 

"  So,  Charles,"  I  said,  beaming  down 
on  him  blandly  from  my  vantage- 
ground,  "you  find  yourself  at  a  loss 
in  a  little  matter  of  social  strategy — or 
tactics,  Charles,  if  you  take,  my  fine 
distinction — and  you  come  to  me  for 
advice.  So-ho,  my  son !  " 

With  the  help  of  a  latch-key,  a  three- 
penny-bit and  a  cigar-cutter,  I  contrived 
a  little  jingling  business  in  my  right- 
hand  trouser  pocket.  Charles  is  a  year 
my  junior,  and  he  had  to  accept  my 
offensive  attitude  because  he  needed 
my  help. 

"  You  see,"  lie  said, 
"  not  wanting  to  marry 
either  of  her  daughters, 
I  'in  getting  myself  into 
a  false  position  by  going 
on  accepting  her  invita- 
tions to  dinner  -  parties 
and  things.  But  how 
does  one  not  go  to  these 
things  when  one's 
asked?" 

"Well,"  I  replied, 
after  thinking  it  out, 
"the  thing  seems  to  be 
to  take  a  sheet  of  note- 
paper — the  azure  bond, 
not  the  cream  laid — and 
write :  '  Mr.  Charles  Car- 
ruthers  deeply  regrets 
that  a — a — yes,  a  pre- 
vious engagement  pre- 
vents his  accepting  Mrs. 
Thingammy's  kind  invi- 
tation.' It  seems  a 
possible  way  out  of  it, 
Charles." 

"  But  I  haven't  a  pro- 


stantly  received  in  addition  a  number  j  vious  engagement,"  said  Charles, 
of  gifts  in  kind,  including,  inter  alia,  \      "  Of    course    not,"   I    said    kinc 

240    pairs    of     CUinboots.    63    shavinff-    "  That  is  mfirfilv  n   rfio.nrrnisp.fi    inrnn 


pairs  of  gumboots,  63  shaving- 
brushes,  99  sets  of  The  Encyclopedia 
Brilannica,  127  perambulators,  "331 
ponchos,  39  pairs  of  silver  -  mounted 
spurs,  and  a  piebald  guanaco. 

"Thousands  of  people  sang  '  We '11  keep 
the  Bed  Fag  Flying.'  "—Daily  Citizen. 

The  sight,  when  all  the  woodbines  are 
alight,  is  said  to  be  magnificent. 

"  As  I  was  returning  from  the  country  to 
the  town  I  met  a  lady  accompanied  by  an 
innocent  little  dog,  very  fond,  like  some 
human  beings,  of  hearing  its  own  voice,  as 
quiet  as  a  mouse.  I  wondered  at  this,  for  I 
had  never  met  it  before  without  barking." 

Barmoutli  Advertiser. 

Does  the  writer  say  "Bow-wow!"  to 
every  dog  he  meets,  or  only  to  this 
oarticular  one  ? 


"  That  is  merely  a  recognised  faqon  de. 
parler,  as  the  best  people  say." 

"You  mean,"  said  Charles  intelli- 
gently, "  that  it 's  only  an  excuse.  But 
that 's  just  my  trouble.  I  want  a  way 
of  declining  that  isn't  already  recog- 
nised. Just  to  express  your  regrets, 
giving  no  real  reason,  because  the  only 
reason  is  ungivable,  is  a  contemptible, 


cowardly  thing  to  do. 
I  shall  be  driven  to. 


But  that 's  what 
Nowadays  every 


excuse  in  the  world  has  become  fishy, 
and  none  of  'em  are  red  herrings." 

I  surrendered  the  hearth-rug  impul- 
sively and  sat  down  beside  him. 

"Charles,"  I  said,  "I  will  make  your 
way  smooth  for  you.  The  golden  rule  in 
refusing  invitations  is  to  accept  them — 
promptly  and  with  fervour." 

Charles  gaped.      I    bowed   acknow- 


MAY  U.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


379 


lodgment  of  the  unlovely  tribute   and 
continued — 

"  J  laving  accepted  the  invitation  as 
indicated,  you  're  all  right.  On  the 
very  day  of  the  function  a  telegram 
does  Ihe  rest.  Something  urgent  in- 
tervenes, Charles.  Done  in  that  way 
—and  in  that  way  alone — the  refusal 
arouses 'no  suspicion,  unless  you  are 
over-eager  to  allay  it  and  exceed  the 
limits  of  a  sixpenny  wire.  There  you 
are,  Charles.  Go  to  your  work  and  be 
strong.  A  quick,  keen  acceptance — a 
late,  brief  telegram." 


"  Well  ?  "  I  asked,  metaphorically 
arching  my  back  for  a  caress,  as  Charles 
dropped  in  to  see  me  some  time  later. 

"You  perfect  ass!"  said  Charles; 
from  which  I  deduced  that  he  had 
made  a  moss  of  things. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
managed  to  arouse  suspicion?"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"  The  trouble  of  it  is,  I  can't  be 
sure,"  said  Charles.  "  I  did  it  per- 
fectly. I  sent  the  wire  just  about  the 
time  when  I  should  have  been  dressing." 
lie  ruminated  wrathfully  for  a  minute 
or  two.  "  Well,  I  met  my  hostess  this 
morning,  and  was  just  going  to  tell  her 
about  the  sudden  chill  I  took  on  the 
night  of  her  dinner-party,  when  she  said 
with  an  acid  sweetness,  '  We  were  so 
sorry  to  get  your  wire  the  other  night. 
Was  it  your  only  stud  ?  '  " 

In  the  awful  silence  which  followed 
there  was  no  sound  save  the  collapse 
of  a  coal  in  the  grate  and  the  sudden 
tinkle  of  a  threepenny-bit  falling 
against  a  latchkey  as  I  moved  uneasily. 
Then  I  pulled  myself  together. 

"  Charles,"  I  said,  "  a  manosuvre  like 
this  is  of  no  use  to  a  man  who  is  so 
little  of  an  artist  as  to  choose  the  very 
last,  last  moment  for  sending  a  wire. 
Nor  shall  I  recommend  it  again  to  one 
whoso  hostesses  are  possessed  of  such 
indelicate  imaginations." 


FOR  THE   SAKE  OP  THE  FEW. 

[At  the  time  of  going  to  press,  the  last  book 
of  Mr.  A.  C.  BENSON,  who  has  recently  written 
to  The  Morning  Post  in  favour  of  the  abolition 
of  compulsory  Greek,  is  a  collection  of  essays 
republished  from  The  Church  Family  News- 
paper and  entitled,  Alonj  the  Itoad.] 

I  IK  was  reared  on  the  might  and 
splendour 

Of  Hellas  when  he  was  young; 
Shall  he  turn  on  his  nurse  and  rend  her 

With  popular  pitiless  tongue  ? 
Still  sweet  with  the  voice  of  Apollo, 

Still  garbed  in  Athena's  dress, 
Is  the  phrase  that  our  fed  hearts  follow, 
Swift-winged  as  the  flight  of  a  swallow, 

In  the  dusk  of  the  Anglican  press. 


Old  Woman.  "I  MUST  TELL  you,  DOCTOB,  THAT  is  OUR  FAMILY  THEBE'S  A. 

LOT    Or   SANITY." 


I  have  dreamed  how  the  college  servant 

Steals  in  through  the  study  door ; 
He  wades  through  the  foolscap 
fervent 

That  floats  on  the  master's  floor : 
From  the  midst  of  his  Sunday  fable 

He  reaves  him  to  Hall  and  broth, 
Where  still  unawares  in  the  Babel 
He  writes,  as  he  eats,  on  the  table 

(Which  is  fearfully  bad  for  the  cloth). 

On  the  rules  of  the  Attic  primer 

He  sharpened  and  fleshed  that  quill ; 
It  knew  Parnassus  a  climber 

Or  ever  it  scaled  Cornbill : 
Shall  it  dare,  O  Greece,  to  insult  your 

Unhappy  remains,  and  prey 
On  a  poor  dead  tongue,  like  a  vulture, 
As  it  scatters  the  spots  of  culture 

All  over  the  U.S.A.  ? 

I  grant  you  that  schoolboys'  grammar 

Is  Ossa  on  Pelion  piled 
For  the  most  who  are  blind  to  glamour, 

But  not  for  the  brilliant  child : 


Ah,  think  what  a  lot  the  great  owe 

To  the  garden  that  nursed  them  young, 
When  out  of  the  mould  of  PLATO 
Full  orbed,  like  the  rich  potato, 
Some  glorious  plant  hath  sprung. 

How  common  the  blighted  bud  is 

Compared  with  the  fruit  one  cooks, 
Yet  the  first  may  have  helped  our  studios 

To  groan  with  the  BENSON  books : 
Ten  thousand  boys  who  were  rattled 

And  offered  the  stern  to  the  beak 
May  have  sent  from  the  fight  embattled 
One  voice  that  would  never  have  prattled 

Without  compulsory  Greek. 

Ah  yes,  for  the  herd  may  falter 

In  climbing  the  slippery  mount, 
But  a  remnant  shall  reach  the  altar 

And  sit  by  the  sacred  fount : 
For  ninety-and-nine  transgressors 

Against  the  grammatical  code. 
Mere  indolent,  dull-brained  gucssers, 
Mr.  BENSON  has  published  (with  Messrs. 

J.  NESBIT)  Along  the  Pood.     KVOE. 


380 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON^CHARiyARI. 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


GETTING    MARRIED. 

IV. — SEASONABLE  PRESENTS. 
"I  suppose,"  I  said,  "it's  too  late  to 
cancel  this  wedding  now  ?  " 

••  \Vcll,"  said  Celia,  "the  invitations 
are  out,  and  the  presents  are  pouring 
in,  and  Mother 's  just  ordered  the  most 
melting  dress  for  herself  that  you  ever 
saw.  Besides,  who's  to  live  in  the 
flat  if  we  don't?  " 

"There's  a  good  deal  in  what  you 

say.      Still,   I   am   alarmed,   seriously 

alarmed.     Look  here."     I  drew  out  a 

printed  slip  and  flourished  it  before  her. 

"  Not  a  writ  ?     My  poor  Ronald  !  " 

"  Worse  than  that.     This  is  the  St. 

Miriam's"'  bill  of    fare    for   weddings. 

Celia,  I  had  no  idea  marriage  was  so 

expensive.     I  thought  one  rolled-gold 

ring  would  practically  see  it." 

It  was  a  formidable  document.  Start- 
ing with  "  full  choir  and  organ  "  which 
came  to  a  million  pounds,  and  working 
down  through  "boys'  voices  only,"  and 
"red  carpet"  to  "policemen  for  con- 
trolling traffic — per  policeman,  5s.,"  it 
included  altogether  some  two  dozen 
ways  of  disposing  of  my  savings. 

"If  we  have  the  whole  menu,"  I 
said,  "  I  shall  ba  ruined.  You  wouldn't 
like  to  have  a  ruined  husband." 

Celia  took  the  list  and  went  through 
it  carefully. 

"  I  might  say  'Season,'  "  I  suggested, 
"or  'Press.'" 

"  Well,  to  begin  with,"  said  Celia, 
"  we  needn't  have  a  full  choir." 

"  Need  we  have  an  organ  or  a  choir 
at  all?  In  thanking  people  for  their 
kind  presents  you  might  add,  '  By  the 
•way,  do  you  sing  ?  '  Then  we  could 
arrange  to  have  all  the  warblers  in  the 
front.  My  best  man  or  my  solicitor 
could  give  the  note." 

"  Boys'  voices  only,"  decided  Celia. 
"  Then  what  about  bells  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  some  nice  bells.  II 
the  price  is  '  per  bell '  we  might  give 
an  order  for  five  good  ones." 

"  Let 's  do  without  bells.  You  see, 
they  don't  bagin  to  ring  till  we  've  lefl 
the  church,  so  they  won't  bo  any  gooc 
to  its." 

This  sesmed  to  me  an  extraordinary 
line  to  take. 

"  My   dear  Cjlia,"   I   remonstrated 
"  the  whole  thing  is  being  got  up  noi 
for  ourselves,  but  for  our  guests.     We 
shall  be  much  too  preoccupied  to  appre 
ciate  any  of  the  good  things  we  provide 
— the  texture  of  the  red  carpet  or  the 
quality  of  the  singing.     I  dreamt  lasi 
night   that  I   quite   forgot   about   the 
wedding-ring   till   1.30   on   the   actua 
day,  and  the  only  cab  I  could  find  to 
take  me  to  a  jeweller's  was  drawn  by 
camel.     Of  course  it  may  not  turn  oul 
to  be  as  bad  as  that,  but  it  will  certainly 


be  an  anxious  afternoon  for  both  of  us. 
\nd  so  we  must  consider  the  entertain- 
ment entirely  from  the  point  of  view  of 
our  guests.  Whether  their  craving  is 
for  champagne  or  bells,  it  must  be 
atisfied." 

"  I  'm  sure  they  '11  be  better  without 
sells.  Because  when  the  policemen  call 
out  'Mr.  Spifkins'  carriage,'  Mr.  Spif- 
kins  mightn't  hear  if  there  were  a  lot 
of  bells  clashing  about." 

"Very  well,  no  bells.  But,  mind 
you,"  I  said  sternly,  "  I  shall  insist  on 
a  clergyman." 

We  went  through  the  rest  of  the 
menu,  course  by  course. 

"I  know  what  I  shall  do,"  I  said  at 
ast.  "  I  shall  call  on  my  friend  the 
31erk  again,  and  I  shall  speak  to  him 
quite  frankly.  I  shall  say,  '  Here  is  a 
heque  for  a  thousand  pounds.  It  is 
all  I  can  afford— and,  by  the  way,  you  'd 
letter  pay  it  in  quickly  or  it  will  be 
dishonoured.  Can  you  do  us  up  a  nice 
wedding  for  a  thousand  inclusive? 

"  Like  the  Christmas  hampers  at  the 
Stores." 

"Exactly.  A  dozen  boys'  voices,  a 
half-dozen  of  bells,  ten  yards  of  awning, 
and  twenty-four  oranges,  or  vergers,  or 
whatever  it  is.  We  ought  to  get  a  nice 
parcel  for  a  thousand  pounds." 

"  Or,"  said  Celia,  "  we   might   send 
the   list    round    to    our    relations    as 
suggestions  for  wedding  presents.    I 
sure  Jane   would    love   to   give   us 
couple  of  policemen." 

"  We  'd  much  better  leave  the  whole 
thing  to  your  father.  I  incline  more 
and  more  to  the  opinion  that  it  is  his 
business  to  provide  the  wedding.  I 
must  ask  my  solicitor  about  it." 

"  He  's  providing  the  bride." 

"  Yes,  but  I  think  he  might  go  further, 
I  can't  help  feeling  that  the  bells  woulc 
come  very  well  from  him.  '  Bride's 
father  to  bridegroom — A  peal  of  bells. 
People  would  think  it  was  something 
in  silver  for  the  hall.  It  would  do  him 
a  lot  of  good  in  business  circles." 

"  And  that  reminds  me,"  smiled  Celia 
"  there's  been  some  chat  about  a  presem 
from  Miss  Popley." 

I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  i 
is  impossible  to  get  married  decently 
unless  one's  life  is  ordered  on  some  sor 
of  system.     Mine  never  has  been;  ark 
the  result  is  that  I  make  terrible  mis 
takes — particularly  in  the  case  of  Miss 
Popley.     At  the  beginning  of  the  busi 
ness,  when   the    news    got   round    to 
Miss   Popley,    I   received   from   her  i 
sweet  letter  of  congratulation.     Know 
ing  that  she  was  rather  particular  in 
these  matters  I  braced  myself  up  an 
thanked  her  heartily  by  return  of  post 
Three  days  later,  when  looking  for  i 
cheque  I  had  lost,  I  accidentally  cam 
across  her  letter.     "'Evings!"  I  cried 


This  came  days  ago,  and  I  haven't 
nswered  yet."  1  sat  down  at  once 
,nd  thanked  her  enthusiastically. 
Another  week  passed  and  I  began  tq 
eel  that  I  must  really  make  an  effort 
o  catch  my  correspondence  up;  so  i 
pt  out  all  my  letters  of  congratulation; 
f  the  last  ten  days  and  devoted  anj 
.fternoon  to  answering  them.  I  used 
nuch  the  same  form  of  thanks  in  all 
of  them  ....  with  the  exception  of 
VEiss  Popley's,  which  was  phrase4 
jarticularly  warmly. 

So  much  for  that.  But  Miss  Popley 
s  Celia's  dear  friend  also.  When  I 
made  out  my  list  of  guests  I  included 
Vliss  Popley ;  so,  in  her  list,  did  Celiaj 
The  result  was  that  Miss  Popley  received 
;wo  invitations  to  the  wedding  .  .  i 
Sometimes  I  fear  she  must  think  w^ 
are  pursuing  her. 

"  What  does  she  say  about  a  present?'! 

asked. 

"  She  wants  us  to  tell  her  what  we 
want." 

"What  are  we  to  say?  If  we  said 
an  elephant — 

"  With  a  small  card  tied  on  to  his  cari 
and  '  Best  wishes  from  Miss  Popley  | 
on  it.  It  would  look  heavenly  among 
she  other  presents." 

"  You  see  what  I  mean,  Celia.  Are 
we  to  suggest  something  worth  a  thou- 
sand pounds,  or  something  worth  nine- 
pence  ?  It 's  awfully  kind  of  her,  but  it 
makes  it  jolly  difficult  for  us." 

"Something  that  might  cost  anything 
from  ninepence  to  a  thousand  pounds,'' 
suggested  Celia. 

"Then  that  washes  out  the  elephant.' 

"  Can't  you  get  the  ninepenny  ones 
now  ?  " 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said,  reverting  to  the 
subject  which  most  weighed  on  me, 
"  she  wouldn't  like  to  give  the  men's 
voices  for  the  choir?  " 

"  No,  I  think  a  clock,"  said  Celia. 

A  clock  can  cost  anything  you  like — 
or  don't  like." 

"  Eight-o.  And  perhaps  we  'd  better 
settle  now — When  it  comes,  how  many 
times  shall  we  write  and  thank  her  for 
it?" 

Celia  considered.  "  Four  times,  1 
think,"  she  said. 

Well,  as  Celia  says,  it 's  too  late  to 
draw  back  now.  But  I  shall  he  glad 
when  it 's  all  over.  As  I  began  by 
saying,  there  's  too  much  "  arranging  " 
and  "  settling  "  and  "  fixing  "  about  the 
thing  for  me.  In  the  necessary  nego- 
tiations and  preparations  I  fear  I  have 
not  shone.  And  so  I  shall  be  truly 
glad  when  we  have  settled  down  in  our 
flat  ...  and  Celia  can  restore  my 
confidence  in  myself  once  more  by 
talking  loudly  to  her  domestic  statt 
about  "  The  Master."  A.  A.  M. 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


381 


ROYAL    ACADEMY    FIRST    DEPRESSIONS. 


HEARTLESS  HOLIDAY-MAKERS 
LEAVE  THEIB  BOO  AT  HOIK. 
(NOTE  THE  REFINEMENT  OP 
CRVELIY  INDICATED  BY  THE 
HOUR-GLASS.) 


"NABBOW  SQUEAK  THAT 
TIME  ;  NEABLY  LEFT  OUT  Off 
THE  PICTURE." 


fit 


" DODGING  THE  PANTHER" — A  NEW  SENSATION  AT 
A  SOUTH  COAST  BESOHT. 


806 

The  Pliotograplter.  "  LOOK  TOWARDS  THE  CAMERA, 
BOTH  OP  YOU.    THANK  YOU  1 " 


349 


THE  COLIDROME  TRIO  REHEARSING  THEIB  CLEVE.I 
JUGGLING,  WEIGHT-LIFTING  AND  MUSICAL  TURN. 


431 


The  Ancient  Mariner. 
"HEAVENS!  ANOTHER  ALBA- 
TROSS! " 


505. 

EMBARRASSING  SITUATION  OP 
LOVERS  WHO  SOUGHT  SECLUSION 
BY  THE  SERPENTINE  ON  A  BUM- 
MER EVENING. 

Cupid  (on  right).  "  COME  ON, 
YOU  FELLOWS;  SUCH  FUN!" 


1' 


THE  BALEFUL  EFFECT  OF  P..\0- 
T1ME  ON  MODERN  PAINTING . 


RESULT  OP  A  LIGHTNING  STRIKE  OP  WAITERS  AT 
HOTEL  BLITZ. 


THE  COLLIE  REFUSES  TO  TAKE 
UP  THE  GAUNTLET  THBOWN  BY 

THE  Bt'LL-TERRIER. 


382 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  14,  1913. 


"THESE  PINE  OLD  THEOLOGICAL  WORKS  DON'T  APPEAR  TO  BE  A  VEIIY  SALEABLE  COMMODITY  WITH  YOU,  MY  MAN. 
"WELL,  Sin,  THE  WAY  is,  WE  BUYS  THE  BOOKS  IN  LOTS,  AN'  WE  'AS  TO  TAKE  THE  BAD  WITH  THE  GOOD." 


LYEA    LUNATICA. 
i. 

[Attributed  to  the  effect  (on  an  inmate)  of  The 
Spectator's  discovery  of  "  a  malicious  mare's 
nest."] 

IF  only  a  mare  has  a  kindly  heart 

It  is  all  the  same  to- me, 
Tho'  she  nest  in  the  shafts  of  a  market 
cart 

Or  the  fork  of  a  chestnut-tree ; 
Watching  her  build  where  the  copse  is 
dense, 

Or  out  in  the  new-mown  hay, 
If  I  see  but  a  trace  of  benevolence, 

I  bear  it  as  best  I  may. 

If  the  nest  of  a  mare  displays  no  spite 
When  harbouring  its  young, 

However  I  marvel  at  the  sight 
My  withers  are  still  unwrung ; 

Tho'  an  Arab  barb  or  a  Clydesdale  colt 
Burst  from  the  shell  I  touch, 

And  change  to  a  cob  at  the  autumn 
moult, 

I  should  not  mind  it  much. 

« 

I  can  do  with  a  snark  or  a  basilisk, 

Or  a  phoenix  free  from  vice, 
My  wits  are  tolerably  brisk 

In  front  of  a  cockatrice ; 
But  a  thing  there  is  no  brain  can  bear, 

Yea,  two  my  reason  test — • 
The  nest  of  a  too  malicious  mare, 

And  a  mare's  malicious  nest. 


ii. 

["  The  districts  of  Banjaluka  and  Bi-Gatch 
show  a  great  Orthodox-preponderance." — Fall 
Mall  Gazette,  May  Cth.] 

GBEEN  Erin  in  her  Poul-na-phnca 
Still  finds  a  refuge  for  Old  Scratch  ; 

But  Bosnia  boasts  her  Banjaluka 
And  proudly  swears  Bi-Gatch ! 

Spain's  daughters  in  the  gay  cachuca 
Are  very,  very  hard  to  match  ; 

But  I  prefer  the  Banjaluka  ; 
I  do  indeed,  Bi-Gatch  ! 

The  Turk  finds  solace  in  his  hookah  ; 

The  duteous  hen  delights  to  hatch  ; 
And  when  men  ask  you  "  Banjaluka?  " 

The  answer  is  "  Bi-Gatch." 

Great  Britain  glories  in  Bonduca  ; 

The  States  in  Mrs.  Wiggs's  patch  ; 
But  Bosnia  plumps  for  Banjaluka, 

And  so  do  I,  Bi-Gatch ! 


COMPENSATION   AT   LAST. 

I  HAVE  lived  to  bless  the  name  of 
Mr.  DAVID  LLOYD  GEORGE.  Let  it  be 
recorded  in  deathless  ink. 

A  few  days  ago  I  was  introduced  to 
a  man  named  Wilverley.  This  morning 
I  met  him  in  the  street,  and  he  greeted 
me  with  a  friendliness  •which  at  once 
aroused  my  suspicions. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Smith,"  he 
cried.  "  I  hope  you  are  perfectly  fit  ?  " 


"  So,  so,  thanks,"  I  admitted  grudg- 
ingly. Was  it  concert  tickets,  I  won- 
dered, or  fountain  pens,  or  a  loan  ? 

"  What  a  lovely  morning!  "  he  con- 
tinued, waving  his  hand  patronisingly 
towards  the  heavens.  "  Beautiful 
morning !  " 

"  Pretty  fair,"  I  replied,  "  considering 
all  things." 

And  then  I  saw  what  it  was.  Pro- 
truding from  his  breast  pocket  was  a 
folded  paper,  upon  the  top  of  which  I 
could  distinguish  the  words  "  Insurance 
Company." 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Mr.  Wilverley,"  I 
said,  "  I  must  be  getting  on  to  the 
office." 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  he. 
"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  he  added,  "  are  you 
insured T  I'm  agent  for  the — 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  answered  unhesitatingly. 
"  Been  insured  ever  since  last  July. 
But  I  shall  be  pleased  to  recommend 
any  of  my  friends  to  you.  Good-bye." 

As  I  made  good  my  escape  I  reflected 
that,  though  poverty  is  an  essential 
qualification  for  the  enjoyment  of  its 
privileges,  there  is  something  after  all 
to  be  said  for  the  Stamp-licking  Act. 


An   advertisement  reaches  us  of  a 
"  Patent  Slug  Trap  "  :— 

"  Price  I/O  each ;  2  for  3/5 ;  3  for  51- ;  C  for 
9/6." 
One  at  a  time  for  us. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MAY  14.   1913. 


THE    WINGS    OF    VICTOEY. 

BRITANNIA.  « THESE    THINGS    SEEM    ALL    THE    RAGE    IN    PARIS    AND    BERLIN ;    AND    I 
IBALLY   CAN'T    AFFORD    TO    BE    OUT    OF    IT." 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


385 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIA- 
MENT. 

(EXTRACTED   FROM   THE  DIAUY  OF 
TOBY,  M.P.) 

House  of  Lords,  Monday, 
M<n/  5.  —  Lord  NEWTON'S  con- 
spicuous success  as  a  Parliament 
man  is  result  of  education  in 
several  schools.  To  diplomacy 
he  gave  six  years  of  a  young  life. 
He  was  trained  in  War  by  the 
Imperial  Yeomanry.  Best  of  all, 
he  sat  in  the  House  of  Commons 
for  thirteen  years.  With  ex- 
ception of  Lord  ROSEBERY,  ever  a 
star  apart,  and  Lord  LANSDOWNE, 
handicapped  by  circumstance,  all 
prominent  peers  have  served 
apprenticeship  in  rough-riding 
school  of  House  of  Commons  and 
have  benefited  accordingly. 

Lord  HALSBURY  has  certain 
dominant  qualities  constitution- 
ally congenial  to  the  hereditary 
Chamber.  To  complete  the  fit- 
ness of  things  he  ought  to  have 
been  born  to  a  coroneted  crib. 
As  it  is  he  stands  almost  the 
last  survivor  of  that  full-blooded 
courageous  Conservatism  which 
sixty  years  ago  was  the  very  life 
of  House  of  Lords.  Yet  he  too 


'Almost  the  last  survivor." 
(Lord  HALSBUBY.) 


succession  of  courses  resulted  in 
its  being  thrown  out,  the  passing 
of  the  Parliament  Act,  and  the 
present  position  of  the  long  pre- 
dominant partner  in  the  legislative 
firm. 

Lord  NEWTON,  being,  as  he 
said  to-night,  "  of  abnormally 
modest  disposition,"  has  since 
he  went  to  the  House  of  Lords 
worked  more  obscurely.  In  his 
too-infrequent  speeches  he  brings 
to  a  jaded  atmosphere  wholesome 
whiffs  of  House  of  Commons' 
manner.  However  dull  debate 
may  be,  when  he  rises  to  continue 
it  instant  change  is  wrought. 
The  sun  shines  where  of  late 
leaden  clouds  prevailed.  His 
humour  is  inclined  to  be  mor- 
dant but  is  not  therefore  less 
acceptable.  Noble  lords  who 
bestow  the  decorous  tribute  of  a 
smile  upon  peers  disposed  to 
make  merriment  have  more  than 
once  been  known  to  laugh  heartily 
at  Lord  NEWTON'S  quips  and 
cranks.  Withal  he  is  a  man  of 
business,  as  is  testified  by  the 
success  with  which  he  piloted 
on  its  way  to  the  Statute  Book 
an  exceptionally  difficult  Bill. 
Business  done. — Lord  NEWTON'S 


passed  through  the  mill.    A  full  eight  j  was  found  in  his  hat  below  the  Bar  Betting  Inducement  Bill  passed  through 
years   he    represented   Launceston   in  j  where  he  had  left  it  when  waiting  to  be  Committee    and    read    a    third    time. 


the  Commons. 


called  up  by  the  SPEAKER. 


His  associations  with  the  place  were  That  is  long  ago.  The  HARDINGE 
not  calculated  to  endear  its  memory,  j  GIFFARD  of  the  'seventies  has  blossomed 
To  begin  with,  unlike  STERNE'S  im- :  into  the  Earl  of  HALSBURY,  who  crowned 
prisoned  bird  who  "  could  not  get  \  a  prolonged  and  useful  career  by  leading 
out,"  he  couldn't  get  in.  For  nearly  ]  attack  on  the  Budget,  which  in  swift 
two  years  he  held  office  as 
Solicitor-General  without  a  seat  in 
Parliament.  Crushed  at  Cardiff, 
left  in  the  lurch  at  Launceston, 
hustled  at  Horsham,  named  as 
probable  starter  at  every  election 
race  in  the  three  kingdoms,  the 
blushing  borough  of  Launceston, 
on  second  wooing,  yielded  to  his 
ardent  advances. 

Thencamecatastrophe.  Arrived 
at  Table  with  intent  to  take  the 
oath,  he  was  challenged  by  the 
Clerk  for  production  of  writ  of 
return.  Ho  hadn't  got  it,  at 
least  couldn't  find  it.  In  full 
gaze  of  four  hundred  gentlemen, 
quizzing,  laughing  and  cheering, 
he  proceeded  to  make  deliberate 
search  among  contents  of  his 
pockets.  Never  before  was  man 
unconnected  with  the  Post  Office 
discovered  in  possession  of  so 
many  letters.  In  course  of  search 
Table  was  littered  as  if  a  mail-hag 
had  burst  open.  In  the  end — 
and  such  an  unconscionably  long 
to  the  end! — the  document 


Al. 


Lord  NEWTON  at  the  final  fence  in  th3 
"Betting  Inducement"  Stakes. 


House  adjourned  for  Whitsun  Becess. 

House  of  Commons,  Tuesday. — Vari- 
able in  its  moods,  of  late  the  prevalent 
one  dolefully  dull,  the  House  to-night 
rose  to  highest  level.  Apart  from 
particular  question  at  issue,  circum- 
stances peculiar,  even  unique.  By 
common  consent,  and  indeed  of 
necessity,  agreed  that  problem  of 
Female  Suffrage  shall  stand  out- 
side the  arena  of  Party  politics. 
Necessity  arises  from  recognition 
that  on  this  topic  Ministerialists 
and  the  Opposition  are  pretty 
equally  divided  among  themselves. 
On  Treasury  Bench  to  -  night 
PRIME  MINISTER  and  FOREIGN 
SECRETARY  answered  each  other 
and  voted  in  different  Lobbies. 
On  Front  Opposition  Bench 
there  is  parallel  situation.  Here 
was  opportunity  to  reach  the 
ideal  of  conference — a  state  of 
things  in  which,  fearless  of 
the  Whip,  ignoring  prejudice, 
men  on  both  sides  might  pro- 
claim the  faith  that  is  in  them 
and  by  reasoned  argument  en- 
deavour to  convince  those  who 
denounced  it. 

Happily  PREMIER  interposed 
early  in  debate,  lifting  it  on  to 
lofty  plane,  from  which  it  did 
not  fall.  As  ho  said,  his  was 


386 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


THIS  YOUNG  MAN,  WHO  HAS  BEEN  IMPROVING  HIS  MENTAL  FORCE 
AND  WILL-POWER  THROUGH  A  CORRESPONDENCE  COLLEGE,  IS  ABOUT 
TO  ASK  A  BISE  IS  SALARY  PROM  THE  MANAGER,  WHO  HAS  JUST 
RKTfRNED  FROM  A  HOLIDAY. 


BUT  THE  MANAGER  HAS  BEEN  SPENDING  HIS  HOLIDAY  IN 
IMPROVING  HIS  MENTAL  FORCE  AND  WILL-POWER  THROUGH  THE 
SAME  COLLEGE. 


a  difficult  position.  He  found  him- 
self at  issue  not  only  with  large 
numbers  of  his  supporters,  but  with 
Members  of  his  Cabinet.  -  Crowded 
House  touched  by  personal  note  of  his 
reference  to  Sir  EDWARD  GREY,  a  friend 
of  twenty-seven  years'  ever-growing 
intimacy, .  with  whom  he  now  found 
himself  at  odds.  FOREIGN  SECRETARY'S 
response  to  this  lament  equally  touch- 
ing in  its  simplicity  and  dignity. 
WALTER  LONG  crowned  an  episode 
peculiar  to,  perhaps  only  possible  in, 
the  House  of  Commons.  Amid  general 
cheering  he  paid  tribute  to  "  the  fine 
courage  and  unruffled  dignity  with 
which  the  PRIME  MINISTEB  had  faced 
opposition  of  a  kind  that  was  a 
discredit  and  a  disgrace  to  the  whole 
country." 

Anticipated  that  much  would  be  said 
about  the  women  who  during  past 
twelve  months  have  supplied  object- 
lessons  of  the  fitness  of  their  sex  to 
exercise  the  franchise  by  blowing  up 
houses,  assaulting  Cabinet  Ministers, 
attempting  to  burn  a  crowded  theatre, 
polluting  pillar  letter-boxes  and  turning 
their  private  residences  into  laboratories 
for  concoction  of  infernal  machines. 
Here  again  example  set  by  PREMIER 
prevailed.  He  generously  ignored  ad- 
vantage these  unwomanly  pranks  lent 
to  his  argument.  LORD  BOB,  greatly 
daring,  dragged  in  DEBORAH,  whom 
F.  B.  SMITH  in  a  sparkling  speech 
hailed  as  the  pioneer  of  the  militancy 
of  late  disturbing  public  peace.  Other- 
wise the  hooligans  were  left  severely 
alone,  as  they  ought  to  be  left  when 
they  shut  themselves  in  on  top  of  the 
Monument  or  chain  themselves  to  grille 
of  House  of  Commons. 

At  eleven  o'clock  crowded  House 
melted  away  into  Division  Lobbies. 


Tellers  presently  returned  with  news 
that  the  Bill  proposing  to  add  six 
million  women  to  the  Parliamentary 
electoral  register  had  been  refused  a 
Second  Reading  by  266  votes  against 
219. 

Business  done. — Female  Suffrage  Bill 
thrown  out..  . 

Thursday.— Adjourned  for  Whitsun 
Recess.  Back  again  on  the  27th. 


MARJORIE   ON   THE   TURF. 

1  WAS  considering  a  voluminous  brief 
when  the  telephone  rang. 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

"  Is  that  you,  Dick  ?  "  said  a  girl's 
voice. 

"  I  'm  not  sure,"  I  replied  guardedly. 
"  Who  is  that  ?  " 

"Me,  Marjorie,  your  cousin.  Your 
father  was  my  mother's  brother,  you 
know." 

"  Enough,"  I  said.  "  Good  morning, 
Marjorie." 

"  Good  morning.  I  say,  Dick,  do 
call  in  on  your  way  home.  It 's  busi- 
ness, most  important." 

"  Business  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  'm  in  an  awful  hurry  now  ; 
good-bye." 

I  returned  to  the  brief,  marvelling. 
Marjorie,  I  reflected,  was  a  butterfly ; 
business,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
business. 

I  pondered  on  the  matter  for  the 
rest  of  the  morning ;  in  the  afternoon  I 
was  nearly  worried  about  it.  Eventu- 
ally the  day  passed. 

It  was  about  half-past  six  when  I 
arrived  at  my  Aunt's  house.  Marjorie 
met  me  in  the  hall  and  conducted  me 
mysteriously  into  the  drawing-room. 

"Now,"  she  began,  "I've  got  a 
brilliant  idea.  You  "11  never  guess  it. 


I  'm  going  to  put  my  new  Summer  hat 
on  a  horse."     She  smiled  at  me. 

"  What  on  earth  for?"  I  asked  rather 
shortly. 

The  drawing-room  is  an  uncomfort- 
able room,  and  my  Aunt  doesn't  allow 
smoking. 

"  A  bet,  of  course." 

"  It  seems  rather  futile.  The  horse 
will  probably  ruin  your  hat.  He  '11 
shake  it  off  and  trample  on  it." 

"  Don't  be  absurd,"  said  Marjorie. 
"  I  'm  going  to  back  a  horse  with  the 
money  for  my  new  hat." 

I  looked  at  her  sternly.  "  I  don't 
approve  of  girls  on  the  turf." 

"  I  can't  help  that." 

"  Neither  does  Aunt  Lillian." 

Marjorie  laughed.  "  She  won't  know. 
Now  here 's  three  pounds.  Will  you 
put  it  on  Belinda?  They  are  taking 
and  offering  ten  to  one,  so  I  shall  get 
thirty  pounds." 

She  handed  me  two  sovereigns  and 
a  lot  of  silver. 

"  But  why  put  three  pounds  on  a 
ten-to-one  chance  ?  "  I  asked  ;  "  and  in 
any  case  I  can  buy  a  hat  for  ten-and- 
sixpence." 

Marjorie  produced  a  newspaper 
cutting. 

"  Belinda  is  in  the  2.30  to-morrow. 
I  choso  her  because  of  my  own  name," 
she  explained. 

I  thought  for  some  minutes. 

"  But  there 's  no  possible  connection 
between  Belinda  and  Marjorie." 

"  That 's  just  it.     I  'm  so  fearfully 
unlucky    that    I    chose    a    name    as 
different  from  my  own  as  possible, 
must  go  now  or  I  '11  be  late  for  dinner. 
Would  you  like  to  see  Mother?  " 

I  coughed.  "  Er — I  must  hurry  away, 
too,"  I  said. 

I  happened  to  meet  a  racing  man  in 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


THE    IMPATIENT    WARRIOR. 

Territorial  (put  on  sentry  over  stores).  "  ABF-PAST  FOUB  AND  NO  BLOOMIN'  WAR  YET!" 


the  train  next  morning  and  I  mentioned 
Belinda  to  him  casually. 

"  There 's  only  one  horse  in  the  2.30," 
he  said,  "  and  that 's  Bluebottle  the 
Fourth.  Belinda  has  no  earthly." 

I  telephoned  to  Marjbrie  as  soon  as  I 
got  to  my  chambers. 

"  Belinda,"  I  said,  "  has  no  earthly." 

Marjorie  was  indignant.  "  He  has  ; 
he  did  some  useful  live-furlong  work 
yesterday." 

"  There  's  only  one  horse  in  the  2.30," 
I  insisted,  "and  that's  Bluebottle  the 
Fourth." 

"  No !     How  extraordinary !  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  I  was  nearly  stung  by  a  gnat  at 
.breakfast.  Dick,  I  think  I  '11  back  him. 
How  much  shall  I  get  for  three  pounds?" 

"  Three  pounds." 

"  Yes,  three  pounds.  What  do  I  win  ?  " 

"  Three  pounds." 

"  Yes,  that 's  .right.  Three  pounds. 
How  much  do  I  win  ?  " 

"  Three  pounds.  Bluebottle  starts  at 
evens,  one  to  one,  two  to  two,  and  so 
on." 

"Oh,  I  see."  Marjorie  hesitated. 
"  It 's  so  awkward,"  she  explained.  "  If 
I  can't  make  enough  for  a  new  frock 
I  'd  rather  not  risk  my  hat.  ...  I 


know !  Put  a  pound  on  Belinda  and 
the  rest  on  Bluebottle.  Good-bye." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  telephone  rang 
again. 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

"  Have  you  done  it,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Oh,  good.  Then  put  ten  shillings 
on  Belinda ;  one  pound  ten  on  Blue- 
bottle, and  a  pound  on  Winter." 

"Winter?" 

"  Yes,  Winter.     Good-bye." 

"  Entrance  of  Spring,"  I  murmured. 

I  put  the  receiver  back  and  looked 
carefully  through  the  racing  news,  after 
which  I  got  into  communication  with 
Marjorie  once  more. 

"Winter,"  I  explained,  "is  a  jockey." 

"  Oh,  then  choose  the  next  best  horse 
after  Bluebottle." 

"  But,  my  dear  girl 

"  Ring  off,"  Marjorie  interrupted ; 
"  here 's  Mother." 

I  rang  off. 

.•,  .•,  ...  ,-,  .1, 

I  called  at  Aunt  Lillian's  on  my  way 
home  as  before. 

"  Well,"  said  Marjorie  excitedly,  when 
we  had  gained  the  drawing-room, 
"what  have  I  won?  " 

I  handed  her  a  little  account. 


"You  lost,"  I  explained,  "  ten  shil- 
lings on  Belinda.  Debit  ten  shillings." 

"  But  I  didn't  back  Debit." 

"  Debit  is  a  term  in  accountancy. 
To  continue :  you  lost  one  pound  on 
Miss  Slippery,  the  next  best  horse  to 
Bluebottle,  starting  at  three  to  two. 
Total  loss,  one  pound  ten." 

"  Heavens !  "  exclaimed  Marjorie. 

"  Now  we  turn  to  credit."  I  became 
more  cheerful.  "  On  Bluebottle  at 
evens  you  won  one  pound  ten.  Total 
balance,  debit  or  credit  nil." 

"  Which  means  ?  "  she  inquired 
anxiously. 

"  You  're  square."  I  handed  her  the 
original  three  pounds. 

Marjorie  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Well,  that 's  all  right,"  she  said. 
"  Now  I  can  buy  my  new  hat." 

"LORD  ST.  FLOWER  BOXES." 

Headline  in  "  Liverpool  Express." 
The  recreations  of  the  lesser-known  peers 
are  always  a  subject  of  interest  to  us. 

"May  it  mew,  like   the  eagle,  its  mighty 
youth  !  " — Saturday  Recieu:. 
"Do   eagles   mew?"    is   the   problem 
that  is  stirring  educated  London  to  its 
depths  just  now. 


388 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


EPISTLE    TO    THOMAS    BLACK, 

CAT    TO    THE    SOANE    MUSEUM. 

oN,  dear  Sir,  if  with  intrusive  pen 
I  would  remind  you  that  we  met  last  week ; 

Not  that  you  showed  mo  any  favour  then, 
Nor  that  I  have  forgot  the  infernal  cheek 

You  tendered  to  your  fellow-citizen, 

Vailing  your  yellow  eyes,  where  black  and  sleek 

You  graced  the  hearth-rug  in  the  glittering  gloom 

Of  Sir  JOHN  SOANE'S  be-mirrored  breakfast-room. 

Which  snub  to  soften,  an  official  leant, 

Hinting,  behind  his  tactful  fingers,  that 
It  was  but  seldom  that  you  quits  unbent, 

Being  almost  a  statutory  cat ; 
If  not  retained  by  Act  of  Parliament 

(As  is  your  noble  shrine)  at  least  you  sat, 
Kept  up  by  twenty  shillings  and  tradition, 
As  part  and  parcel  of  the  exhibition. 

For  when  (he  added  in  an  undertone) 

Each  Eeynolds,  Fuseli  and  Bartolozzi, 
Hogarth  and  Lawrence  was  bequeathed  by  SOANE 

With  Roman  marbles  and  Athenian  pots,  he 
Begrudged  to  leave  them  lifeless  and  alone, 

So,  having  ranged  them  in  appropriate  spots,  l:o 
Said,  "There  shall  be  a  cat,"  and  in  effect  you're 
His  last  word  in  Domestic  Architecture. 

Thus  far  Authority.     Now,  might  I  ask  it, 
How  came  you,  Thomas,  by  this  lofty  station 

From  kittenhood  and  the  maternal  basket  ? 
Was  there,  perchance,  some  stiff  examination 

Such  as  tests  candidates  whose  pleasant  task  it 
Is  to  advance  the  cause  of  education — 

In  places  advertised  you  often  see  'em, 

On  outside  pages  of  The  Athenceum  ? 

And  how  were  you  appointed  ?    Was  it  fate  or 
The  cat  before,  some  mid- Victorian  mouser, 

Left  you  the  seat  Death  bade  him  abdicate,  or 
Did  hirelings  kidnap  you  like  Kaspar  Hauser  ? 

Did  rich  relations  canvass  the  Curator 

And  the  Trustees  on  your  behalf?     Allow,  Sir, 

Some  little  light  to  dawn  upon  the  mystery 

Of  Thomas  Black  his  entrance  into  History. 

Oh  !  happy  he  for  whom  does  not  exist 
Our  later  London — that  superb  disaster, 

Who,  in  his  Georgian  hermitage  has  missed 
Our  schemes  of  girders  overlaid  with  plaster, 

Who  has  not  met  a  Post-Impressionist 
Nor  heard  a  maniac  acclaimed  a  master, 

But  sits  with  those  who  draw  their  weekly  salary 

Soothed  by  dim  models  of  the  Dulwich  Gallery ! 

For,  be  their  outlook  dull,  at  least  'tis  clean. 

Not  so  the  cat's,  whose  whole  existence  spent  i3 
In  some  half-lighted  haunt  of  the  obscene — 

The  studio  of  that  modern  idle  'prentice 
Who  thinks  he  has  the  trick  of  HOGARTH'S  spleen 

(Of  course  he 's  twice  the  draughtsman)  if  his  bent  is 
To  paint  that  vice  with  intimate  elation 
Which  HOGARTH  limned,  apart,  with  detestation. 

All  this  you  're  spared ;  and  so  you  might  have  paid 

Some  courtesy  to  those — a  very  few — 
Who  come,  withdrawn  from  that  exterior  shade, 

To  spend  an  hour  with  sanity  and  you ; 


And  when  you  saw  that  I  had  gladly  stayed, 
Not  closed  your  eyo-lids  and  our  interview, 
But  told  me  what  the  contents  of  each  case  meant 
And  let  me  come  with  you  to  see  the  basement. 

Yet,  after  all,  you  know  your  part  ;  doze  on  ; 

You  are  no  common  cat,  you  rather  seem, 
If  not  the  incarnation  of  Sir  JOHN, 

To  be  at  least  the  creature  of  his  dream  ; 
Visitors  enter,  sign  their  names,  are  gone — 

You  stay,  tha  centre  of  his  classic  scheme. 
Blink  not  an  eir  for  me — 'twere  not  expedient  - 
But  let  me  rest,  Dear  Sir,  your  most  obedient. 


CINEMA   WHENS. 

WHEN  any  kind  of  a  shop  fails  it  becomes  a  picture- 
palace. 

When  a  picture-palace  fails  it  becomes  a  white  elephant. 

When  a  British  officer  has  nothing  else  to  do  ho  stands 
outside  a  picture-palace  in  undress  uniform  and  lingers  a 
ittle  black  cane. 

.When  a  film  is  preceded  by  a  certificate  signed  by  the 
Denser,  saying  that  he  has  approved  of  it,  the  audience's 
anticipatory  excitement  is  rarely  excessive. 

When  a  strong  wind  rakes  the  sitting-room,  disturbing 
,he  dresses  or  aprons  of  the  women  and  blowing  the  curtains 
and  papers  about,  you  may  know  that  you  are  witnessing 
an  American  drama. 

When  a  series  of  luminous  dots  suddenly  breaks  out  on 
,he  picture,  you  know  that  relief  is  at  hand,  for  the  film  is 
nearly  over. 

When  a  film  is  in  three  parts  it  is  time  to  go. 

When  half-a-dozen  persons  in  the  same  film  write  letters 
;hey  all  do  it  in  the  same  hand-writing,  usually  that  of  a 
'oreign  clerk. 

When  a  servant  brings  in  one  of  these  letters  you  know 
;hat  you  too  will  have  to  read  it  directly. 

When  you  have  read  it  once  you  know  that  it  will  be 
ihrown  on  the  sheet  again  a  little  later. 

When  you  have  read  it  the  second  time  you  know  that 
the  chances  are  you  will  see  it  still  once  more. 

When  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  appears  in  a  cow-boy 
drama  he  is  a  sheriff. 

When  in  a  comic  film  you  see  a  hose-pipe,  you  may  know 
it 's  going  to  play  upon  some  one. 

When  the  lights  suddenly  go  up,  many  couples  in  the 
audience,  particularly  in  the  gallery,  are  disturbed,  and 
show  it. 

When  the  lights  go  down  again  they  are  happier. 


"It  is  not  sufficiently  well  known  that  one  of  the  professors  at 
Manchester  University  (Dr.  Perkins)  has  after  three  years'  experiments 
devised  a  process  of  making  flannelette  absolutely  inflammable." 

Daily  Chronicle. 

We  don't  wish  to  discourage  Dr.  PERKINS  from  any  further 
experiments,  but  we  fear  that  his  three  years'  endeavour 
to  find  a  substitute  for  coal  will  be  wasted  on  the  public. 

"On Dr.  Leigh  being  asked  whether  he  preferred  making  a  state- 
ment or  be  placed  on  oats  and  cross-examined,  ho  said  he  would 
like  to  render  a  statement  to  the  Council." — Bloemfontrin  Friend. 

Yet  one  can  face  anything  on  porridge.    • 


"The  Traffic  on  the  London  Road. — In  our  article  on  this  subject 
last  week,  reference  was  made  to  Mr.'  Searle,  of  '  the  White  Lion ' 
Hotel.    It  ought  to  have  read  '  the  White  Inn.'    It  ought  to  have  read 
'  the  White  Horse  Horse.'  " — Herts  Advertiser. 
Anyhow,  it 's  white.         .  . 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


389 


SHOP. 

THE  Club  Annual  Dinner  Season  has 
now  opened,  and  our  special  repre- 
sentative sends  us  his  report  of  a  very 
notable  function  which  he  attended  last 
night.  We  have  pleasure  in  publishing 
his  account  of  the  proceedings,  as  they 
appear  to  have  been  organised  and 
carried  out  in  a  manner  so  appropriate 
as  to  serve  as  a  model  of  what  such 
entertainments  should  be : — 

MESSRS.  STARCHAL  AND  SELFGROVE. 

The  members  of  the  mixed  hockey 
club  attached  to  this  well-known 
emporium  hold  their  annual  dinner  and 
soir6e  at  the  Eemnant  Gallery  on  the 
15th,  when  an  altogether  enjoyable 
evening  was  spent. 

The  rooms  were  tastefully  and  appro- 
priately decorated  for  the  occasion,  even 
the  gas-brackets  being  supplied  with 
mantles.  The  floral  scheme  was  carried 
out  in  stocks. 

Punctually  at  6.3  the  company  sat 
down  to  the  following  menu : — • 

Chiffons. 
Crepe  de  china 

Torchon. 

Mannequins. 

Sauce  mousseline  de  soie. 

Le  dernior  cri. 

Panne.  Tulle. 

Eau  do  nil.  Suede. 

After  dinner  the  hockey  president, 
who  plays  at  full  back,  gave  the  annual 
address,  his  thesis  being  that  "  one  half 
often  doesn't  know  how  the  other  halves 
live."  Incidentally  he  discussed  the 
famous  Pass  of  Killiecrankie.  On  one 
side  it  had  been  urged  that  the  pass 
was  a  clean  and  beautiful  one ;  on  the 
other,  that  it  couldn't  be  called  a  real 
pass,  the  extremists  holding  that  Killie- 
crankie never  passed  at  all. 

During  the  address  there  was  a  cry 
of  "Fire!"  It  appeared. that  some  of 
the  new  spring  shades  were  blazing, 
but  owing  to  promptness  in  turning  on 
the  open-work  hose  little  or  no  damage 
was  done. 

The  proceedings  concluded  with  a 
capital  concert  and  dramatic  entertain- 
ment. Among  the  items  most  applauded 
were  The  Song  of  the  Shirt,  feelingly 
sung  by  Miss  Black  (Blouses);  The 
Inch  Tape  Bock,  a  powerful  recitation 
by  Mr.  Lapels  (Ladies'  Tailoring) ;  a 
scene  from  Measure  for  Measure,  ex- 
cellently enacted  by  the  young  ladies 
of  the  Combinations  Department ;  and 
the  evergreen  quartette,  White  Sales, 
they  never  grow  weary,  in  the  chorus 
of  which  all  present  heartily  joined. 

Altogether  a  most  enjoyable  time 
was  spent,  and  everyone  left  in  high 
spirits  at  11.3. 


She.    "  THERE'S  A   SMART   EVENING   GOWN.      WHO   IS   IT  A  PORTRAIT  OF?" 

He.  "CAN'T  SAY,  BUT  THE  TITLE  is,  'BEADY  FOB  THE  BATH.'" 


THIETY  MINUTES  LATE. 

WALLFLOWERS  in  the  station-master's 
garden, 

Please,  your  pardon, 
But  I  've  waited  for  the  train  for  nearly 

five-and-twenty  minutes, 
And  I  've  seen  our  only  porter  shoo  the 

little  olive  linnets 
From  the  apple-blossom's  petals, 
While  the  smooth  and  shiny  metala 
Run  all  empty  up  and  down, 
To  and  from  the  Town  of  London — 

London  Town, 
And  what  else  is  there  to  do 
If  I  may  not  talk  to  you? 

Now  there 's  something  in  your  restful 
yellow  tawny, 

Soft  and  lawny- 


Looking  faces  that  can  cairn  a  rather 

righteous  irritation, 
And  your  scent,  with  tar  and  sunshine, 

fills  our  humble  little  station 
With  a  country  smell  and  proper 
That  distillers  never  stopper, 
And  that  gold  could  never  buy, 
Though  you  search  the  shops  of  Lon- 
don till  you  die ; 

For  'tis  home  and  May  and  mirth. 
So  'tis  all  that 's  best  on  earth  I 


"  Mr.  Villiers  Stanley,  as  Crawford  the 
villain  of  the  piece,  and  Miss  Beatrice  Western, 
as  the  villainess,  were  rewarded  for  their 
efforts  by  many  kisses  from  the  audience, 
which  showed  that  they  acted  their  respective 
parts  to  the  life." — Gloucestershire  Chronicle. 

Alas    for    an    age   where  vice    is    BO 
popular. 


390 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


THE   MOUSE   TRAP. 

"You  never  can  tell,"  said  the  girl  who  helped  in  the 
Flat,  "  when  a  man 's  going  to  mike  a  fool  of  'isself.  Some 
on  'em  does  it  young — I  've  known  a  tidy  few  like  that 
comin'  messin'  about  the  'ouse,  or  oglin'  the  front  door,  01 
tryin'  to  mike  love  to  the  parlour  winders  when  they  fancy 
you  're  a-settin'  be'ind  them,  and  you  ain't  near  the  plice. 
It  seems  a  silly  wye  to  go  on,  don't  it,  but  they  will  do  it 
and  you  can't  'elp  yerself.  Then  there's  others,  old  men,  I 
mean,  that 's  gone  on  all  their  lives  mikin'  money — all,  and 
investin'  of  it  too — and  gettin'  their  'eads  bald  with  all  the 
wise  things  they've  bin  plannin'  at,  and  it  all  goes  pop 
sudden-like  jest  as  if  they  'd  bin  a  bottle  o*  ginger  beer  and 
all  the  'idden  foolishness  comes  foamin'  out.  If  you  don't 
stop  'em  in  time  they  '11  go  on  till  they  're  empty. 

"  We  've  'ad  a  example  o'  that  in  our  own  fam'ly,  and  the 
man  as  give  the  example  was  Uncle  Bill.  O'  course  you  'd 
never  'a'  thought  it  of  'im,  'e  's  that  venrablc-lookin',  with  a 
great  gold  chain  'angin'  acrorst  'is  weskit  and  a  long  black 
coat  and  shiny  boots.  You  can  always  tell  with  your  eyes 
shut  when  Uncle  Bill 's  walkin'  anywhere,  'is  boots  creak 
so.  Father  says  a  small  'ouse  ain't  no  good  to  Uncle  Bill. 
'E  wants  a  palis  to  show  'isself  orf  in,  bein'  sich  a  creaker 
as  'e  is.  But  there,  when  you  come  to  be  a  matter  o' 
seventeen  stone  you  must  'ave  a  bit  o'  shoe  leather  under 
you  to  keep  you  up,  and  a  man  as  'as  got  'ouse  property 
and  money  put  away  I  reckon  e'  can  afford  to  mike  a  noise 
and  nobody  ain't  goir.'  to  throw  it  up  in  their  fices,  as  the 
sayin"  is.  Besides,  Uncle  Bill 's  gettin'  on  in  life.  Father 
says  more  'n  sixty  autumns  'as  passed  over  'is  'ead  and  took 
what 's  left  of  'is  'air ;  but  Uncle  don't  mind.  'E  used  to  say 
'e 's  never  wanted  to  be  nothin'  but  a  bacheldore,  and  as 
'e 's  never  gone  courtin'  e'  'asn't  'ad  to  worry  'isself  about 
lookin'  as  smart  as  some. 

"  Since  we  'ad  that  little  trouble  about  the  Montynegroes 
we  'adn't  seen  much  of  Uncle,  and  we  didn't  know  what 
'e  'd  bin  up  to.  'Owever  last  Sunday  mornin'  'e  sends  a 
letter  round  to  mother  sayin'  as  'e  '11  come  round  and  drink 
a  cup  o'  tea  if  agreeable,  and  there  was  a  poscrip  marked 
'  privit  and  confident '  to  say  'e  was  'opin'  to  bring  some  one 
with  him,  but  'e  won't  tell  mother  'oo  it  is  till  they  meet 
tice  to  fice,  when  'e 's  sure  they  '11  mike  a  good  impression 
on  theirselves.  As  soon  as  she  reads  it  mother  shouts  out, 
'  The  ole  fool 's  bin  got  'old  of  by  one  o'  them  designers — I 
know  the  sort — and  she  '11  'ave  the  banns  called  afore  we 
can  lift  a  'and  to  save  'im.'  Father  larfed  and  said,  if  so,  it 
was  a  judgment  on  Uncle  Bill  for  not  'avin'  bin  married 
afore ;  but,  any'ow,  mother  oughtn't  to  'oiler  before  she  knew ; 
p'raps  Uncle  Bill  was  rneanin'  to  bring  the  Duke  o'  DEVON- 
SHIRE or  the  Archbishop  o'  CANTERBURY  to  'ave  a  taste  o' 
mother's  tea-kikes.  Father  always  is  one  for  'is  jokes  when 
'e 's  in  a  good  temper. 

"  Well,  when  tea-time  come  we  was  all  on  the  gog,  as 
you  may  say,  and  we  'adn't  bin  settin'  there  for  more 'n 
a  minnit  afore  we  'eard  Uncle  Bill's  boots  a-creakin',  with 
another  pair  o'  boots  pit-pattin'  along  with  'em.  '  'Oo  was 
right?"  says  mother;  but  she  couldn't  say  no  more,  for 
Uncle  Bill  come  in  and  walks  up  to  mother  and  says 
quick  and  whisperin'  like,  '  I  've  brought  Miss  Mumbles. 
She 's — well,  you  '11  see  what  she  is  when  you  see  'or.  You 
and  'er  's  sure  to  'it  it  orf.' 

"  '  Bring  'er  in,'  says  mother  quite  proud  and  cold,  and 
Uncle  goes  out  and  fetches  Miss  Mumbles  in.  My  eye,  but 
she  was  one  for  colours — dark  blue  silk  dress  and  red  ribbons 
and  a  'at  with  a  long  feather  and  a  grey  perlisse — you  never 
see  sich  a  set-out.  Forty  if  she  was  a  day  she  was,  but  she 
'ad  a  fine  'igh  colour  and  larfed  very  pleasant  and  took  'er 
tea  with  'er  gloves  on  jest  like  a  lidy. 


"  At  first  there  warn't  no  talk — jest  a  word  or  two  about 
the  'orrid  weather,  and  what  would  the  Suffragettes  be  up 
to  next,  and  'ow  well  the  Queen  was  lookin' ;  but  arter  a 
bit  father  began  to  dror  out  Uncle  Bill,  and  'e  set  to  work 
on  'is  politics  in  fine  style,  and  father  pertendin'  to  agree 
with  'im,  and  Miss  Mumbles  settin'  there  and  admirin'  'im. 
At  last  Uncle  Bill  begun  to  think  'e  was  mikin'  a  speech 
and  'e  banged  on  the  table  and  opened  'is  mouth,  and 
before  you  could  say  '  pip  '  'is  false  teeth,  the  'ole  sot  of  'em, 
dropped  out  on  the  table  in  front  of  'irn.  '  You  've  lorst 
your  mouse-trap,  Bill,'  says  father,  and  Uncle  Bill  ketches 
'em  up  and  pops  'em  in  agin.  But  'e  was  too  late.  Miss 
Mumbles  'ad  seen  'em,  and  she  give  a  shriek  and  called  out 
that  she  never  could  a-bear  false  teeth,  and  then  she  goes 
orf  into  'igh  strikes.  'Ow  we  got  'er  and  Uncle  Bill  away 
I  can't  rightly  say,  but  Uncle  come  round  the  next  day  and 
told  mother  'e  'd  done  with  women,  and  if  'e  'd  known  'ow 
false  they  was  'e  'd  never  'a'  took  up  with  'em.  It  made 
father  larf  till  'e  cried.  'E  ain't  got  over  it  yet." 


FUTILITY. 

Now  dawns  the  annual  poetic  prime, 

When,  for  some  reason,  every  bardic  breast 
Thrills  to  a  flow  of  fresh  and  fruitful  rhyme, 
And  be  it  said,  to  some  extent,  that  I  'm 
No  better  than  the  rest. 

I  too,  like  these,  would  make  the  echoes  ring ; 

Like  theirs,  my  fleeting  hopes  wax  free  and  fine ; 
Only,  as  soon  as  I  begin  to  sing, 
My  Muse  inevitably  runs  to  Spring; 
And  there  I  draw  the  line. 

Whate'er  the  theme  by  which  my  heart  is  stirred, 

Epic  or  excerpt  from  the  Daily  Prese, 
It  matters  not ;  before  I  write  one  word, 
Thoughts  of  a  cuckoo  or  some  silly  bird 
Doom  me  to  nothingness. 

And,  tho'  I  crush  them  down  and  strive  for  hours 
To  turn  my  well-known  grace  and  famous  ease 
On  to  the  job  in  hand,  my  noblest  powers 
Are  chilled  by  a  stern  need  to  sing  of  flowers 
Or,  just  as  likely,  trees. 

'Tis  a  strange  thing,  this  influence  in  the  air; 

In  point  of  fact,  this  month  that  men  call  sweet 
Makes  no  appeal  to  me.     I  do  not  care 
For  the  young  growth  that  others  hold  so  fair, 
Or  birds,  except  to  eat. 

But  there  the  fact  remains.     With  each  new  day 

I  want  to  sing ;  I  feel  inclined  to  soar ; 
And  when  my  dearest  dreams  are  thrown  away 
I  am  annoyed.     I  find  much  fault  with  May 
For  putting  in  her  oar. 

To  give  a  poet's  Muse  an  upward  shove, 

Then  hold  her  down,  is  neither  good  nor  wise ; 
Of  course  there  still  remains  the  topic,  Love ; 
But  that 's  the  very  subject  which,  above 

All  others,  I  despise.  Duu-DuM. 


"Lady  Catherine  de  Burgh  regarded  the  world  below  her  own 
13  all  alike.  Mr.  Collins  and  Emma  were  alike  underbred  in  her 
syes." — Spectator.  * 

Ah,  why  didn't  JANE  AUSTEN  record  for  us  the  historic 
neeting  between  Lady  Catherine  and  Emma  ?  Or  was 
only  the  Editor  of  Tho  Spectator  present  ? 


MAY  14,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


391 


("A  jest's  prosperity  lies  in  the  ear  of  him  that  hears  it,  never  in  the  tongue  of  him  that  makes  it.") 
JONES  HAS  JUST  MADE  ONE  OF  HIS  BEST  JOKES  IN  A  DENTIST'S  WAITING-ROOM. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
AMONG  writers  of  good  fiction  I  should  call  that  clever 
lady,  Mrs.  HENRY  DE  LA  PASTURE,  the  most  entirely  feminist. 
Mothers  are  perhaps  her  favourites,  but  in  all  her  stories 
Place  aux  Dames  is  the  prevailing  motto.  I  found  this 
note  as  strong  as  ever  in  her  latest,  though  at  first  sight 
you  would  naturally  expect  a  book  called  Michael  Ferrys 
(SMITH  ELDER)  to  be  chiefly  about  Michael  Ferrys.  Later 
you  find  that  it  is  much  more  about  the  women  who  were 
in  love  with  him.  There  were  three  of  these,  or  four  if  you 
include  the  rather  battered  sentiment  of  Mrs.  Carselcinh — 
an  admirably  suggested  character,  by  the  way,  whom  I 
should  have  liked  in  greater  detail.  The  others  were 
Wine/ride,  to  whom  he  was  engaged,  her  young  sister 
Thckla,  and  Edith,  who  loved  him  most  of  all,  and  should 
have  secured  the  prize  if  I  had  been  consulted.  But  you 
must  not  imagine  Michael  himself  to  be  a  mere  lay  figure. 
Far  from  it.  The  struggles  of  this  ingenuous  and  engaging 
young  millionaire  between  love  and  honesty  are  admirably 
true  and  human.  The  trouble  was  that  Wine/ride  came  of 
an  old  Catholic  house,  and  couldn't  marry  Michael  unless 
he  moved  over  to  her  own  faith.  Michael  had  no  religion 
at  all,  except  a  kindly  optimism,  and  wouldn't  pretend, 
even  to  marry  the  lady  of  his  heart.  You  observe  that  the 
author  has  here  a  difficult  and  delicate  task ;  I  think  no 
one  could  find  offence  in  her  treatment  of  it,  which  is  both 
fair  and  honest.  I  liked  the  last  pages  enormously ;  they 
are  a  model  in  the  art  of  suggestion  and  restraint.  A 
pleasant  story,  laid  among  somewhat  graver  issues  than 
most,  but  none  the  less  attractive. 


If  the  author  of  The  Ambassadress  (HEINEMANN)  had  not 
assured  us  that  his  name  is  WILLIAM  WRIOTHESLEY,  one 
might  have  suspeeted  him  of  belonging  to  another  gender, 
so  womanly  is  his  interest  in  his  heroine's  tea-gowns  (a 
"  lovely  loose-draped  diaphanous  thing,"  "  a  long  loose 
drapery  thing  "),  and  so  marked  is  his  lack  of  reticence  on 
sex-matters.  Indeed,  one  story  that  he  wantonly  drags  in  is 
of  so  strange  an  impropriety  that  it  must  have  escaped  his 
pen  in  a  moment  of  extreme  emasculation.  The  scenes  are 
chiefly  laid  in  Berlin,  where  Mr.  WRIOTHESLEY  seems  to  have 
had  a  nodding  acquaintance  with  Embassy  circles.  Of  side- 
lights on  their  official  aspect  we  get  little,  but  a  great  deal 
of  gossip  on  the  part  of  the  womenfolk,  whose  wit,  if  we 
may  judge  by  samples,  he  sadly  overrates.  A  cosmopolitan 
(he  has  visited  Venice  and  even  gone  so  far  afield  as  the 
Acropolis),  he  enjoys  a  greater  command  of  foreign  tags  of 
speech  than  of  his  own  language,  in  which  he  permits  him- 
self certain  solecisms — "  acquiescence  to,"  "  accredited  " 
for  "  credited,"  "  to  lay  off  her  things."  But  a  worse  blot 
on  the  book  is  the  character  of  the  alleged  "  hero,"  Prince 
Lichtenfeld.  One  would  not  have  minded  his  being  so 
preposterous  a  cad  if  he  had  not  shattered  our  faith  in  two 
delightful  and  intelligent  women,  Alcxa,  and  her  stepmother 
the  British  Ambassadress ;  for  it  was  past  belief  that  the 
one  should  fall  in  love  with  him  and  the  other  approve  him 
as  an  eligible.  Bonalds,  of  the  American  Embassy,  is  a 
pleasant  utility  man  for  whom  the  Ambassadress  cultivates 
a  Platonic  affection  not  without  its  charm,  if  only  they  had 
subjected  it  to  rather  less  analysis.  Indeed,  all  through  his 
book  the  author  encourages  his  people  to  talk  too  much, 
and  then  at  the  end  makes  up  for  lost  time  by  compressing 
into  a  single  chapter  the  solution  of  his  problem,  based  on 


392 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  14,  1913. 


the  fable  that    "  Ambassadors'    daughters    never 


ventional  than  its  predecessor ;  the  young  poet  and  dreamer 


LllU      lilUlU       Ml&bH  nmUtl:>:5t*mjl  3          UaUlCUvOl  1C\C1         IllUillJ.  YV^HUIVHI  u*J    ^.".^  bj~»w.    -       vu\j   JVU1J£    pu^U    UlUU    UlUtUUOr 

Here,  her  poor  little  brother  Paul,  an  attractive  figure,  has  in  contact  with  an  unsympathetic  world  is  a  figure  not 
at  the  shortest  notice  to  be  paralysed  in  a  motor  accident  altogether  new  to  fiction  ;  but  I  question  if  lie  has  ever  been 
for  the  too  obvious  reason  that  Alexa  must  somehow  secure :  portrayed  with  more  understanding.  Antony  Wyatt  is  his 
a  mission  in  life,  if  only  as  an  amateur  nurse.  Apart  from  j  name.  You  are  shown  him  in  childhood,  an  alien  in  the 
the  freshness  of  its  scenes,  Mr.  WRIOTHESLEY'S  work  has  home  of  his  bewildered  and  exasperatsd  parents ;  at  school, 
the  merit  of  promise  rather  than  of  achievement.  the  favourite  of  the  one  master  who  understands  him,  and 

who  takes  him  in  the  holidays  to  the  beautiful  old  house 

"  Pipe  on,  Master  Chanco  :  bo  it  sad  or  gay,  I  '11  trip  to   Glayde,  where  he  meets  the  girl  who  is  to  play  her  appointed 
r  measure."     So  the  old  play,  quoted  by  AGNES  and   part  in  his  making.     Throughout  it  is  of  course  the  figure 

-  of  Antony,  appealing  in  his  youth  and  dreams,  for  whom 
your  sympathy  is  demanded ;  though  for  my  own  part  I 
confess  to  sparing  a  little  for  the  ordinary  persons  whom  he 


VUIU      UlCilidUlC.  tJJU      L11U      IUU      LUttYl      UUVWU      ''V        AWEIJIla      UUU 

EGERTON  CASTLE  on  the  title-page  of  their  Chance  the 
Piper  (SMITH,  ELDEB).  But  let  me  at  once  relieve  the 
anxiety  of  the  public,  or,  as  I  suppose  will  be  the  case  with 


some,    disappoint    their 
hopes.      There    are    no 
rag  -  time    measures    in 
this  book.     The   stories 
belong    chiefly     to    the 
seventeenth     and    eigh- 
teenth centuries,  to   the 
times   of    the    Fire     of 
London    and   Louis  LE 
BiEN-AiME,     of      the 
French  Wars    and    the 
Eevolution.      Their 
motifs  are  love  and  hate 
and    jealousy     and    re- 
venge, in  the  days  when 
duels    were    as    courtly 
as     the     Pavane,     and 
aristocrats    shuddered 
at    the    sound    of    the 
Marseillaise  ;       when 
French      prisoners     i  n 
English  gaols    consoled 
.hemselves    with     flute 
nd  fiddle,   and  mourn- 
ul   night    winds    made 
Aeolian  music  on  gibbet 
.bains    at    bleak  cross- 
oads.     Later  on   there 
,re  three  that  belong  to 
irnes  nearer  our  own — 
.wo  in  which    the  pip- 
ing of  Chance  leads   to 
battle-fields     in     China 
and  South  Africa;    and 
one,  an  Irish  story,  told 
in  a  brogue  that  might 
have     come    from    the 


Farmer.  "  'Or  ODT,  'ENEBY,  AND  CATCH  'OLD  OF  HIS  'BAD." 


pen  of  SYNGE  or  Lady  GREGOBY,  that  begins  with  a  wake 
and  ends  with  a  wedding  jig.  This  last  is,  I  think,  the  best 
in  the  book,  not  only  because  of  its  fidelity  to  truth  in  the 
dialect,  but  because  it  is  so  unlike  the  authors'  usual  work, 
as  far  as  it  is  known  to  me.  That  perhaps  sounds  rather  an 
Irish  compliment.  But  what  I  mean  is  that  the  way  in 
which  they  have  seized  the  true  Irish  spirit,  as  well  as 
the  true  Irish  talk,  proves  once  more  the  versatility  of 
their  gifts. 

I  remember  being  greatly  pleased  some  time  ago  with 
a  book  called  The  Little' Green  Gate ;  and  now  here  are  my 
own  words  of  praise  confronting  me  from  the  page  opposite 
the  title  of  Miss  STELLA  CALLAGHAN'S  new  story,  Vision 
(CONSTABLE).  Naturally  therefore  I  read  Vision  with  an 
interest  almost  paternal.  I  may  say  at  once  that  the  result 
was  by  no  means  disappointing ;  Miss  CALLAGHAN  has  again 
shewn  her  power  of  writing  an  unusual  story  with  grace 
and  insight.  Perhaps  the  story  itself  is  a  little  more  con- 


bewildered.     At  the  end, 
havingabandonedorbocri 
deserted  by  everyone,  he 
"  turned  exultant  to  face 
life."     Wo  are  never  told 
how ;    and  I  felt  here  a 
i  little  like  the  parson  and 
I  his  wife  in  Candida, 
•  about  whom  the  stage- 
I  direction  says,  if  I  recall 
|  it  rightly,  "  They  do  not 
know  the  secret  of  the 
{  poet's  heart."  Still,  these 
uncertainties    and    even 
some   villainously    care- 
less   punctuation    could 
not  spoil  my  enjoyment 
of  a  very  charming  stoiy. 

I  should  feel  more  than 
a    little    jealous    of   the 
Earl  of  Sussex  in  A  City 
of  the  Plain  (CONSTABLE) 
were  I  able  altogether  to 
believe  in  him.     He  had 
been  "Captain  of  Oppi- 
dans   at     Eton,    Senior 
something  else  at  Christ- 
church,"  and  had  passed 
first   into    Sandhurst,  a 
triple  feat  I  find  hard  to 
swallow,  although  I  have 
his  wife's  word  for  it.    I 
am  really  sorry  for  this 
because  he  was  one  of  the 
few  people  in  the  hook 
who  did  not  seem  to  talk 
too  much  and  do  too  little.     Eeams  and  reams  of  dialogue 
have  no  terrors  for  Mr.  HORACE  CAHADOC,  who  doesn't  seem 
to  mind  how  much  the  loquacity  of  his  characters  impedes 
the  movement  of  his  story.     The  struggle  between  a  very 
Protestant  squarson  and  a  young  High  Church  parson  (who 
ultimately  joins  the  Church  of  Eome)  is  not  without  interest, 
but   I  should  have  squeezed  more  enjoyment  from  it  if 
Mr.  CARADOC'S  sympathies  with  the  younger  man  had  not 
been  so  obviously  paraded.     Rarely  has  a  more  insufferable 
prig  than  the  Bev.  Sir  Lucius  Marples  been   drawn  in 
fiction,  and  the  best  that  I  can  say  for  him  is  that  to  give 
him  a  cobbler  with  no  morals  for  his  chief  champion  in  the 
fight  was  to  handicap  him  unmercifully. 


"  In  consequence  of  the  flooding  of  the  Severn,  the  Worcestershire 
cricket  ground  is  now  submerged  by  six  feet  of  water.  The  members 
of  the  team  are,  therefore,  unable  to  practise  on  it." 


Slackers. 


. 
Daily  Ncu's  and  Leader. 


MAY  21, 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


303 


CHARIVARIA. 

KEADY  SHOKTLY  —  "  Tho  Marconi 
Affair  in  a  Nutshell,"  by  Messrs. 
GAUVIN  and  MAXSE.  008  pages,  fol. 

•:•    ',- 

•'Till'!    JiKKLIN    WEDDING. 
BALKAN     AFFAHiS     WILL     I'ROBAItLY     BE 
DISCUSSED." 

Thus  a  contemporary, 
and  it  may  bo  a  useful 
hint  to  bridegrooms, 
who  wonder  what  to 
talk  about  when  await- 
ing tho  arrival  of  the 

bride.        #  * 
* 

The  sama  newspaper, 
in  "A  Chronicle  of  the 
Bank  Kate,"  informs  us 
that  in  1894  it  stood 
at  2  per  cent,  for  931 
days.  Why  worry 
about  Daylight  Saving 
when  such  things  are 
possible  ?  .,.  ^ 

In  consequence  of  a 
suggestion  that  Suffra- 
gettes should  be  de- 
ported to  St.  Helena,  a 
lady,  we  understand,  is 
proposing  to  go  and 
blow  up  the  little  island 

with  a  bomb. 
*.* 

The  destruction, 
attributed  to  militants, 
of  the  organ  at  Penn 
parish  church  is  sup- 
posed to  bo  an  act  of 
revenge  for  the 
attempted  suppression 
of  their  own  organ,  The 
Suffragette. 


',• 

"  A  man,"  says  Lady 
CARLISLE,  "who  for- 
sakes us  because  mili- 
tants throw  chrysan- 
themum pots  at  him  at 
a  flower-show  is  not  a 
stable  politician."  Nor, 
we  should  say,  is  ho  a 
pot-house  politician. 


report  that  tho  purchaser  tried  to 
repudiate  his  bargain  on  finding  that  it 
did  not  include  the  horses. 

*,* 

Dr.  Boss  has  written  a  book  on 
The  licdiiction  of  Domestic  Flies.  In 
some  parts  of  the  country  we  be- 
lieve they  are  down  to  sixpence  a 
hundred. 


D6SICN     IN   BMi 
MICHT   Bt    NTRQDUCEO. 


A    WATER    JUMP    B£T\9|6£N 
VTOULO   ADD     CONSIDERABLY     TO    THE.  CA1E.TY 


VWV   NOT  WIDt  THE  FlELDEAJ 
\NITH    NETS   t 


SM5* 

TM£   ACOcTlOM    OF    A 

FEW    BUNKERS    W    THE    OUTFIELD      W5UL.D 
CEKWJNLY     BRIGHTEN   UP    IVlE.     FIELTNrtq  . 


•THE.  .SUCCESSFUU 

BE.  SUITABLY  FSE.WARDEJ>  1 


BRIGHTEN 


Acton  magistrate  last  week  to  a  young 
wife.  This  seems  dangerous  counsel,  as 
tho  husband's  idea  of  comfort  might 
embrace  week-end  visits  from  tho 
"other  young  woman." 

Letters  continue  to  be  written  pro- 
testing against  tho  insertion  of  adver- 
tisements in  novels  as  an  indignity  to 
authors.  When  the 
advertisement  recom- 
mends the  readers  of 
the  novel  to  try  some- 
body's headache  pow- 
ders, it  sounds  almost 
like  a  deliberate  insult. 

V     * 

if 

Having  caught  a 
cold,  Mr.  PLOWDEN,  the 
Marylebone  magistrate, 
was  unable  to  return  to 
London  from  Monto 
Carlo  last  week.  Wo 
understand  that,  when 
this  popular  magistrate 
is  away,  business  at 
once  falls  off  at  his 
court.  $  .,, 
"* 

The  surgical  bureau 
of  the  New  York  police 
department  has  pro- 
posed that  the  force 
shall  have  an  official 
chiropodist.  This  looks 
as  if  a  serious  effort  is 
to  be  made  at  last  to 
reduce  the  size  of 
policemen's  feet. 


A  Lenten  Diet. 
"OUR    SPECIAL 

FILLING  FAST." 
"Daily  News  "  Headline. 

Just  the  thing  when  the 
spirit  is  willing  but  the 
flesh  is  weak. 


"How  dreadful  is  this 
place.  This  melodious, 
thoroughly  diatonic  little 
piece  ...  is  specially 
adapted  tor  tho  dedication  of 
achurch." — Musical  Times. 


Two  nurses  selected  for  an  appoint- 
ment under  the  Lowestoft  Guardians 
have  declined  on  tho  ground  that  tho 
workhouse,  which  is  three  miles  from 
tho  town,  is  too  far  away.  It  is  thought 
probable  that  rather  than  incur  the 
expense  of  moving  tho  workhouse  to 
the  town  tho  Guardians  will  select  two 
other  nurses. 


,,.  <. 


A  four-in-hand  coach  wag  sold  at 
ALDRIDGE'S  the  other  day  for  four 
guineas.  But  thero  is  no  truth  in  tho 


The  City  Press  has  discovered  a  fowl 
run  on  the  top  of  Market  Buildings,  Min- 
cing Lane.  There  are,  of  course,  several 
pigeon  runs  on  the  Stock  Exchange. 


*  * 


Statistics  show  that  the  population 
of  British  prisons  is  rapidly  declining, 
and  there  is  some  talk  of  taking  paying 
guests  at  some  of  theso  comfortable 

hostelries.  ^  + 

* 

"  Make  things  more  comfortable  at 
homo  so  that  your  husband  will  not 
want  to  go  out  and  see  the  other  young 
woman,"  was  the  advice  given  by  the 


This  is  a  hard  saying. 


"  '  He's  going  down  in  the  hoist,'  said  a 
man  hurrying  past  me  down  tho  stairs. 
1  Who?  '  said  I,  regardless  of  grammar." 
"Borderer"  in  "  The  Glasgotv  News." 

It  must   be   terrible  when  he  really 
begins  to  be  grammatical. 


Things  our  Readers  didn't  know. 
No.  137. 

'"There  is  a  time  in  tho  affairs  of  men 
•which  taken  at  the  ebb  leads  on  to  fame  and 


fortune.' 


This  is  a  well  known  quotation." 
Manor  Advocate. 


VOL.  cxr.iv. 


39i 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONTfON 


CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  21,  1913. 


ON    THE    BAT'S    BACK. 

tho  idea  of  brightening  cricket, 
my  friend  Twyford  has  given  me  a  new 
but.  I  have  always  felt  that,  in  my 
own  case,  it  was  tho  inadequacy  of  tho 
weapon  rather  than  of  the  man  behind 
it  which  accounted  for  a  certain  mo- 
notony of  low-scoring;  with  this  new 
bat  I  hope  to  prove  tho  correctness  of 
my  theory. 

My  old  bat  has  always  been  a  trier, 
but  of  late  it  has  been  manifestly  past 
its  work.  Again  and  again  its  drive 
over  long-oft"  s  head  has  failed  to  carry 
the  bunker  at  mid-off.  More  than  once 
it  has  proved  itself  an  inch  too  narrow 
to  ensure  that  cut-past-third-man-to- 
the-boundary  which  is  considered  one 
of  tho  most  graceful  strokes  in  my 
repertoire.  Worst  of  all,  I  have  found 
it  at  moments  of  crisis  (such  as  the 
beginning  of  tho  first  over)  utterly 
inadequate  to  deal  with  the  ball  which 
keeps  low.  When  bowled  by  such  a 
ball — and  I  may  say  that  I  am  never 
bowled  by  any  other — I  look  reproach- 
fully at  the.  bottom  of  my  bat  as  I  walk 
back  to  the  pavilion.  "  Surely,"  I  say 
to  it,  "  you  were  much  longer  than  this 
when  we  started  out  ?  " 

Perhaps  it  was  not  magnanimous 
always  to  put  the  blame  on  my  partner 
for  our  accidents  together.  It  would 
have  been  more  chivalrous  to  have 
shielded  him.  "  No,  no,"  I  should  have 
said  to  my  companions  as  they  received 
me  with  sympathetic  murmurs  of  "  Bad 
luck," — "  no,  no,  you  mustn't  think 
that.  It  was  my  own  fault.  Don't 
reproach  the  bat."  It.  would  have  been 
well  to  have  spoken  thus ;  -and  indeed, 
when  I  had  had  time  to  collect  myself, 
I  did  so  speak.  But  out  on  the  field, 
in  the  first  shame  of  defeat,  I  had  to  let 
the  truth  come  out.  That  one  reproach- 
ful glance  at  my  bat  I  could  not  hide. 

But  there  was  one  habit  of  my  bat's 
— a  weakness  of  old  age,  I  admit,  but 
not  the  less  annoying — about  which 
it  was  my  duty  to  let  all  the  world 
know.  One's  grandfather  may  have  a 
passion  for  the  gum  on  the  back  of 
postage-stamps,  and  one  hushes  it  up ; 
but  if  he  be  deaf  the  visitor  must  be 
warned.  My  bat  had  a  certain  loose- 
ness in  the  shoulder,  so  that,  at  any- 
quick  movement  of  it,  it  clicked.  If  I 
struck  the  ball  well  and  truly  in  the 
direction  of  point  this  defect  did  not 
matter;  but  if  the  ball  went  past  me 
into  the  hands  of  the  wicket-keeper  an 
unobservant  bowler  would  frequently 
say,  "How's  that?"  And  an  ill- 
informed  umpire  would  reply,  "  Out." 
It  was  my  duty  before  the  game  began 
to  take  the  visiting  umpire  on  one  side 
and  give  him  a  practical  demonstration 
of  the  click  . 


I';.!,  these  are  troubles  of  the  past. 
I  have  my  new  bat  now,  and  I 
can  see  that  cricket  will  become  a 
different  game  for  inc.  My  practice  of 
this  morning  has  convinced  me  of  this. 
It  was  not  one  of  your  stupid  practices 
at  the  net,  with  two  burly  professionals 
bumping  down  balls  at  your  body 
and  telling  you  to  come  out  to  them, 
Sir.  It  was  a  quiet  practice  in  my 
rooms  after  breakfast,  with  no  moving 
object  to  distract  my  attention  and 
spoil  my  stroke.  The  bat  comes  up 
well.  It  is  light,  and  yet  there  is 
plenty  of  wood  in  it.  Its  drives  along 
the  carpet  were  excellent ;  its  cuts  and 
leg  glides  all  that  could  be  wished.  I 
was  a  little  disappointed  with  its  half- 
arm  hook,  which  dislodged  a  teacup  and 
gave  what  would  have  been  an  easy 
catch  to  mid-on  standing  close  in  by  the 
sofa;  but  I  am  convinced  that  a  little 
oil  will  soon  put  that  right. 

And  yet  there  seemed  to  be  some- 
thing lacking  in  it.  After  trying  every 
stroke  with  it;  after  tucking  it  under 
my  arm  and  walking  back  to  the  bath- 
room, touching  my  cap  at  the  pianola 
on  the  way ;  after  experiments  with  it 
in  all  positions,  I  still  felt  that  there 
was  something  wanting  to  make  it 
the  perfect  bat.  So  I  put  it  in  a  cab 
and  went  round  with  it  to  Henry. 
Henry  has  brightened  first-class  cricket 
for  some  years  now. 

"  Tell  me,  Henry,"  I  said,  "  what 's 
wrong  with  this  bat?  " 

"  It  seems  all  right,"  he  said,  after 
waving  it  about.  "  Bather  a  good  one." 

I  laid  it  down  on  the  floor  and  looked 
at  it.  Then  I  turned  it  on  its  face  and 
looked  at  it.  And  then  I  knew. 

"  It  wants  a  little  silver  shield  on  the 
back,"  I  said.  "  That 's  it." 

"  Why,  is  it  a  presentation  bat  ?  " 
asked  Henry. 

"  In  a  sense,  yes.  It  was  presented 
to  me  by  Twyford." 

"What  for?" 

"  Eeally,"  I  said  modestly,  "  I  hardly 

like Why  do  people  give  one  things? 

Affection,  Henry ;  pity,  generosity — • 
er " 

"  Are  you  going  to  put  that  on  the 
shield  ?  '  Presented  out  of  sheer  pity- 
to '  " 

"  Don 't  be  silly  ;  of  course  not.  I 
shall  put '  Presented  in  commemoration 
of  his  masterly  double  century  against 
the  Aulhentics,'  or  something  like  that. 
You  've  no  idea  how  it  impresses  the 
wicket-keeper.  He  really  sees  quite  a 
lot  of  the  back  of  one's  bat." 

"  Your  inscription,"  said  Henry,  as 
he  filled  his  pipe  slowly,  "  will  be  either 
a  lie  or  extremely  unimpressive." 

"  It  will  be  neither,  Henry.  If  I  put 
my  own  name  on  it,  and  talked  about 
my  double  century,  of  course  it  would 


be  a  lie ;  but  tho  inscription  will  be  to 
Stanley  Bolland." 

"Who 'she?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  've  just  made  him 
up.  Rut  now,  supposing  my  little  shield 
says,  'Stanley  Bolland.  H.P.C.C.— 
Season  1912.  Batting  average  11(5-34.' 
— how  is  that  a  lie  ?  " 

"  What  does  II.P.C.C.  stand  for  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  doesn't  mean 
am  thing  really-.  I  '11  leave  out '  Batting 
average '  if  it  makes  it  more  truthful. 
'Stanley  Bolland.  H.P.C.C.,  1912. 
116-34.'  It 's  really  just  a  little  note 
I  make  on  tho  back  of  my  bat  to 
remind  me  of  something  or  other  1  've 
forgotten.  116-34  is  probably  Bolland's 
telephone  number  or  the  size  of  some- 
thing I  want  at  his  shop.  But  by  a 
pure  accident  the  wicket-keeper  thinks 
it  means  something  else  ;  and  he  tells 
the  bowler  at  the  end  of  the  over  that 
it  'a  that  chap  Bolland  who  had  an 
average  of  over  a  century  for  the 
Hampstead  Polytechnic  last  year.  Of 
course  that  makes  the  bowler  nervous 
and  he  starts  sending  down  long- 
hops." 

"I  see,"  said  Henry;  and  he  began 
to  read  his  paper  again. 

So  to-morrow  I  take  my  bat  to  tho 
silversmith's,  and  have  a  little  engraved 
shield  fastened  on.  Of  course  with  a 
really  trustworthy  weapon  I  am  certain 
to  collect  pots  of  runs  this  season.  But 
there  is  no  harm  in  making  things  as 
easy  as  possible  for  oneself. 

And  yet  there  is  this  to  be  thought 
of.  Even  the  very  best  bat  in  the 
world  may  fail  to  score,  and  it  might  so 
happen  that  I  was  dismissed  (owing  to 
some  defect  in  the  pitch)  before  my 
silver  shield  had  time  to  impress  the 
opposition.  Or  again,  I  might  (through 
ill-health)  perform  so  badly  that  quite 
a  wrong  impression  of  the  standard  of 
the  Hampstead  Polytechnic  would  be 
created,  an  impression  which  I  should 
hate  to  be  the  innocent  means  of  cir- 
culatingl 

So  on  second  thoughts  I  lean  to  a 
different' inscription.     On  the  back  of 
my  bat  a  plain  silver  shield  will  say 
quite  simply  this  : — 
To 

STANLEY  BOLLAND, 
FOR  SAVING  LIFE  AT  SEA. 
FROM  A  FEW  ADMIRERS. 

Thus  I  shall  have  two  strings  to  my 
bow.  And  if,  by  any  unhappy  chance, 
I  fail  as  a  cricketer,  the  wicket-keeper 
will  say  to  his  comrades  as  I  walk 
sadly  to  the  pavilion,  "  A  poor  bat 
perhaps,  but  a  brave — a  very  brave 
fellow." 

It  becomes  us  all  this  season  to  make 
at  least  one  effort  to  brighten  cricket. 

A.  A.  M. 


PUNCH,  OK  TIIM  LONDON  CHARIVARI,— MAY  81,   1913, 


UNDEE    HIS    MASTER'S    EYE. 

SCENE — Mediterranean,  on  board  the  Admiralty  yacht  "  Enchantress" 
MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL.  "ANY    HOME    NEWS?" 
ME.  ASQUITU.  "HOW    CAN    THERE   BE   WITH   YOU    HERE?" 


MAY  21,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


397 


Burglar  (about  to  decamp  with  actress's  diamond's).  "  DON'T  BINO,  LADY.    JUST  THINK  OF  THE  ADVERTISEMENT  I  'M  OIVTHG  Ton." 


THE    FOOD    OF    LOVE. 

[Regular  and  hearty  meals  are  recommended  as  a  cure  for  love-sickness.] 
THERE  's  a  weight  on  my  day  that  is  crushing  me  slowly 

but  surely, 
On  my  night  there 's  a  burden  that  seems  evermore  to 

increase, 

And  I  come,  oh !  my  dear,  tho'  I  'm  feeling  excessively  poorly, 
To  appeal  to  your  sense  of  proportion  for  timely  release. 

From  the  day  that  you  answered  me  "  No,"  with  apparent 
conviction 

(And  you  haven't  a  ghost  of  a  notion  how  frightful  it  feels), 
I  have  turned,  in  the  sinking  that  comes  of  internal  affliction, 

To  the  tonic  and  solace  of  hearty  and  regular  meals. 

In  tho  morning  I  rise  with  a  heart  that  is  empty  and  hollow 
To  the  task  of  sustaining  myself  through  a  profitless  day, 

But  a  fish  and  a  steak,  with  some  eggs,  and  an  apple  to  follow, 
Are  but  ashes  within  me  as  soon  as  I  've  put  them  awayt 

So  I  dwindle  till  luncheon,  when  sorrow  has  made  mo 
voracious, 

And  again  I  endure  till  tho  afternoon  teacake  and  cup ; 
While,  altho'  I  go  nap  at  a  dinner  both  ample  and  spacious, 

The  depression  is  on  me  before  I  can  decently  sup. 

Very  hard,  oh !  my  dear,  is  tho  day ;  but  the  night-tima  is 

harder, 
For  I  tumble  in  dreams  and  my  slumbers  are  broken  and 

short ; 

If  I  walk  in  my  sleep  I  unerringly  go  to  the  larder, 
So  intense  is  the  natural  outcry  of  love  for  support. 


It  is  thus  for  two  months  that  I  've  striven  to  conquer  my 

passion ; 

Not  a  meal  have  I  missed  nor  a  dish ;  but  I  honestly  vow 
That  however  the  treatment  has  dulled  my  despair,  in  a 

fashion, 
I  would  sooner  see  you  than  my  dinner,  my  love,  even  now. 

So  I  pray  you  give  ear  to  my  pleading,  for,  little  by  little, 

I  'm  acquiring,  I  fear,  an  habitual  longing  to  eat ; 
And  e'en  now,  for  a  man  who  was  never  a  slave  to  hia 

victual, 

I  'm  distressingly  partial  to  pastry  and  things  that  are 
sweet. 

Then  be  kindly,  my  dear,  or  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  issue, 
Of  the  end,  if  you  cannot  relent,  that  is  looming  in  sight ; 

You  were  ever  opposed  to  a  superabundance  of  tissue, 
And  already  I  've  gone  up  a  stone  and  my  boots  are  too 
tight.  DUM-DUM. 

Life's  Little  Difficulties. 

"  Sir, — Can  any  of  your  readers  giva  mo  a  remedy  for  a  horse's  eyo 
which  got  hurt?  The  eye  has  got  a  blue  colour  now,  and  I  should 
like  to  get  something  to  take  tho  yellow  colour  away." 

Letter  in  "  The  Farmer*'  Weekly." 


Tho  following  letter  has  been  received  from  Nigeria  by  a 
Shipping  Company : — 

"  Dear  Sir, — Having  your  namo  in  illustrious  that  yon  are  good 
merchant  as  I  heard  I  needed  to  bo  one  of  your  illustrated  customer. 
Please  endeavour  best  to  sent  me  one  of  your  illustrated  catalogue, 
and  you  will  know  that  I  am  a  faithfully  customer. 

I  am,        Your  illustrated  customer. 
Please  send  it  to  mo  by  urgently." 


398 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  21,  1913. 


BOYS    OF    THE    DAY. 

[The  Daily  Mail  recently  reported  a  horrid 
oiT.urrence  :   u  ten-year-old  boy  saved  up  Ins 
and  run  away  TO  school.] 


THE  Headmaster  rose  to  his  feet  and 
glared    down    the    long     schoolroom. 


"  I  have  now  a  painful  case  of  a  Lower 
School  boy  to  deal  with.  Higgles  Minor, 
stand  up  in  your  place.  Only  this 
morning  I  detected  Mfggles  in  tears. 
On  enquiring  whether  his  county  had 
heen  beaten  or  whether  he  suffered  from 
some  slight  indisposition  ho  admitted 


Silence  !  If  I  hear  a  single  hoy  repeat-  j  to  me  that  he  was  crying  because  it 
ing  a  Greek  paradigm  I  will  make  an  was  only  two  months  to  the  holidays, 
example  of  him.  I  must  hear  that !  I  will  maintain  a  bright  and  cheerful 
clock  tick  before  I  proceed.  I  had  j  spirit  in  this  school  even  if  I  have  to 
hoped,  in  recognition  of  Coggor's  success  flog  every  boy  in  it.  You,  Miggles, 


at  Oxford — nine  wickets  for  fourteen 
runs — to  have  given  you  an  extra  half- 
work-day,  but  unfortunately  my  black 
list  for  the  week  is  an  exceedingly  long 


unworthy  scion  of  honoured  parents, 
you  weep,  do  you,  because  you  have  to 
return  to  the  progenitors  who  guarded 
your  infancy.  I  will  drive  away  those 


one.     The  moral  tone  of  the  school  is  I  unhallowed  tears.    (Short  interval,  dur- 


deplorably  low.  For  example,  we  have 
Blimmer,  a  fifth  form  boy — stand  up, 
Blimmer,  so  that  your  -  schoolfellows  j 
may  behold  an  unhealthy 
specimen  of  youthful  de- 
pravity— well,  yesterday 
afternoon  I  found  Blim- 
mer had  absconded  from 
his  duties  on  the  cricket 
field  and  was  concealed 
in  a  class-room  furtively 
reading  a  Greek  play. 
(A  murmur  of  horror.) 
You  may  well  be  sur- 
prised. I  have  tried 
gentle  means  with  Blim- 
mer. An  hour's  extra 
play-time  proved  useless. 
The  compulsory  whole 
holiday  I  gave  him  last 
week  was  not  a  sufficient 
warning.  Now  there 
remains  nothing  but 
severe  physical  chastise- 
ment. (A  short  but 
painful  interval.)  And  I 
warn  you,  Blimmer,  if 
amend  your  ways  I 


ing  which   hallowed   tears  are  substi- 
tuted.) 

"  And  I  have  one  more   remark  to 


boys  are  not  maintaining  the  high 
traditions  of  Dulham  School.  If  this 
continues  I  give  you  fair  and  ample 
warning  that  the  school  has  ceased  to 
fulfil  its  useful  educational  functions, 
and  shall  advise  the  Governors  that  it 
ho  incontinently  closed.  You  may  well 
weep  —  but  the  future  rests  entirely 
with  yourselves." 


Scout  Sentry.  "  YEEY  WELL,  MADAM,  I  'LL  LET  you  THROUGH  ;  BUT  I  WABN 

YOU  THE  'LlOSS1  ABE  IN  THE  WOOD  AND  HAVE  THE  BIGHT  TO  SEARCH  YOU." 


have    further 


penalties  in  store  for  you.  The  very 
next  time  you  neglect  your  sports 
you  shall  be  sent  home  -for  your  holi- 
days a  month  before  the  time.  (Blim- 
tears  and  promises 


rner  bursts   into 
reformation.) 

•  "  Now  I  have  a  serious  complaint  to 
make  about  certain  boys  in  the  Fourth 
Modern.  They  are  allowed  pocket- 
money  by  their  kindly  parents.  In- 
stead of  spending  it,  as  their  parents 
intended,  at  what. I  believe  is  known  in 
common  parlance  as  the  tuckshop,  I 
find  that  they  have  been  wasting  their 
money  on  an  anti-tobacco  society  and  a 
homo  for  reformed  convicts.  They 
have  proved  themselves  unworthy  of 
their  financial  trust.  In  future  the 
Fourth  Modern  will  accompany  their 
form-master  to  the  tuck-shop.  He 
will  spend  their  money  for  them  on 
succulent  comestibles,  and  see  that, 
every  particle  is  consumed -forthwith 
on  the  premises. 


you  do  not  |  make  which  concerns  the  general  moral 
tone  of  the  school  rather  than  that  of 
individuals.  Passing  behind  the  wall 
of  the  cricket  field  yesterday  on  my 
way  to  take  my  customary  constitu- 
tional, I  overheard  several  of  yon  con- 
versing. I  need  not  say  that  I  did  not 
deliberately  listen.  Involuntarily  the 
sounds  impressed  themselves  on  my 
auditory  organs.  I  heard  myself  spoken 
of  as  '  the  dear  Doctor '  and  '  our  revered 
Headmaster.'  One  group  of  you  was 

of    the 
poems. 


discussing  German  theories 
authorship  of  the  Homeric 
Another  group  was  deep  in  the  question 
of  the  urgency  of  the  vote  for  feminine 
householders.  I  passed  on,  and  in 
mental  retrospect  looked  back  to  the 
palmy  days  of  our,  school,  "when  boys 
alluded  to  me  in  private  as  '  Old  Konk ' 
— in  reference,  I 'believe,  to  my  nasal 
organ — when  the  conversations  I  over- 
heard dealt  with  the  serious  things  of 
life,  the  average  of  C.  B.  FRY  or  the 
records  of  Aston  "Villa.  I  feel  pained, 
deeply  pained,  to  think  that  present-day 


WILL  POWKB, 

WE  were  talking  about  a  recent 
article  in  Punch,  describing  the  new 
profession  of  unsettler,  the  man  who 
brings  various  forms  of  pressure  to  bear 
on  the  tenant  of  a  nice  house,  so  that 
he  leaves  and  the  house  is  available  for 
the  unsettler's  employer. 

"  That 's  all  very  well,"  said  the 
hostess ;  "  but  there 's  a 
more  efficient  and  more 
gentlemanly  way  than 
that.  -  And,"  she  added 
significantly  and  not 
without  triumph,  "  I 
happen  to  know." 

She  sat  at  the  head  of 
the  table  in  the  old  farm- 
house. "  Modernised," 
as  the  agents  have  it. 
That  is  to  say,  the  right- 
ful occupiers — -the  simple 
yeomen — had  gone  for 
ever  and  well-to-do 
artistic  Londoners  had 
made  certain  changes  to 
fit  it  for  a  week-end 
retreat.  Where  the 
country  folk  for  whom 
all  these  and  smaller 
cottages  were  built  now 
live,  who  shall  say? 
But  not  here.  The  exterior  is  often 
still  the  same,  but  inside,  instead  of 
the  plain  furniture  of  the  peasantry, 
one  finds  wicker  lounges,  novels  and 
cigarettes. 

This  particular  farm  -  house  was 
charming.  An  ingle-nook,  Morris  fur- 
niture, Morris  curtains,  an  etching  or 
two,  a  sprinkling  of  advanced  books, 
and  where  once  had  been  a  gun-rack  a 
Delia  Eobbia  Madonna. 

"  It 's  delightful,"  I  said ;  adding,  as 
one  always  does,  "  How  did  you  get  to 
hear  of  it?  " 

"  Hearing  of  it' wasn't  difficult,"  she 
said,  "  because  we  had  a'  cottage  near 
here.     The  trouble  was  to  get  it." 
"  It  wasn't  empty,  then?  "  I  replied. 
"  No.     There  was  a  Mr.  Broom  here. 
We  asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  go,  and 
lie  said  No."    We  made  him  an  offer 
and   he  refused.      He   was   most   un- 
reasonable." 

I  agreed  :  "  Most." 
"  So  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
will  his  departure." 


MAY  21,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARI. 


399 


Dramatic  Author.  "\VF.LL,  WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OP  MY  PLAY?" 

Manager.  "  D'YOU  WANT  TO  KNOW  MY  REAL  OPINION  OF  IT?"  Autlior  (stoutly).  "I'M  PREPARED  FOE  THE  WORST." 

Manager  (handing  him  the  MS.).  "THAT'S  WHERE  YOU  AUTHORS  HAVE  THE  PULL  OF  us.    I  WASN'T!  " 


"Will?" 

"  Yes.  Concentrated  our  thoughts 
on  his  giving  notice,  and  invited  our 
friends  to  do  the  same.  I  wrote  scores 
of  letters  all  round,  saying,  '  Please,  if 
you  love  us,  will  that  Mr.  Broom  vacates 
the  Manor  Farm.'  I  asked  them  to 
mako  a  special  effort  on  the  night  of 
March  LSih,  at  11  o'clock,  when  we 
should  all  ho  free.  And  they  did." 

"Well?"!  asked. 

"  Well,  you'll  hardly  believe  it — and 
I  shan't  be  a  bit  vexed  if  you  don't — but 
on  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  March, 
I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Broom  saying 
that  he  had  decided  to  leave,  and  we 
could  have  the  first  call  on  his  house. 
It  was  too  wonderful.  I  don't  mind 
confessing  that  I  felt  a  little  ashamed. 
I  felt  it  had  boon  too  easy." 

"  It  is  certainly  a  dangerous  power," 
I  said. 

"  Well,"  she  continued,  "  I  hurried 
round  to  see  him  before  he  could 
change  his  mind.  '  Do  you  really  want 
to  leave  ? '  I  asked  him.  '  Yes,"  he 
said.  'Why?'  I  asked.  'Well,'  he 
said,  'I  can't  toll  you  why.  I  don't 
know.  All  I  know  is  that  all  of  a  sudden 


I  have  got  tired  and  feel  vaguely  that 
I  want  a  change.  I  am  quite  sure  I 
am  making  a  mistake  and  I  '11  never 
find  so  good  a  place;  but  there  it  is; 
I  "in  going.'  I  assure  you  I  felt  for  a 
moment  inclined  to  back  out  altogether 
and  advise  him  to  stay  on.  I  was 
even  half  disposed  to  tell  him  the  truth. 
But  I  pulled  myself  together  and  put 
the  temptation  behind  me.  And — 
well,  here  we  are!  " 

"  It 's  amazing,"  I  said.  "  You  must 
either  have  very  strong-minded  friends, 
or  the  stars  have  played  very  oddly 
into  your  hands,  or  both." 

"  Yes,"  she  said ;  "but  there's  a  little 
difficulty.  One  has  to  bo  so  careful  in 
this  life." 

"  One  has,"  I  fervently  agreed. 
"  But  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Some  of  my  friends,"  she  explained, 
"  didn't  quite  play  the  game.  Instead 
of  willing,  as  I  explicitly  told  them, 
that  Mr.  Broom  should  leave  the  Manor 
Farm,  they  willed  merely  that  Mr. 
Broom  should  leave  his  house,  and  the 
result  is  that  all  kinds  of  Mr.  Brooms 
all  over  the  country  have  been  giving 
notice.  I  heard  of  another  only  this 


morning.  Our  Mr.  Broom's  brother 
was  one.  It 's  a  very  perilous  as  well 
as  a  useful  gift,  you  see.  But  we've 
got  the  farm,  and  that 's  the  main 
thing." 

"  It  couldn't  be  in  better  hands,"  I 
said.  "  For  the  moment,  I  mean.  I  am 
looking  out  for  just  such  &  place 
myself.  Take  care.  Willing  is  a  game 
that  two  can  play  at." 

"  You  don't  mean ?  "  she  said. 

"  I  do,  most  certainly,"  I  replied. 

And  I  did.  And  now  I  am  busy 
making  a  list  of  my  most  really 
obstinate,  pushful  friends  to  help  mo. 


"Claude  Gray,  playing  over  his  course  at 
Beckenham  on  Saturday,  May  3rd,  holed  out 
the  eighth  in  one.  Tho  hole  measures  22 
yards,  and  the  shot  was  played  with  a  driving 
iron." — Golfing. 

We  should  have  taken  our  putter. 


"Trinity  College  (London)  Examination, 
in  Skating  takes  place  on  Saturday  afternoon, 
and  Saturday,  Thursday,  and  Wednesday 
evenings." — Kewbury  Weekly  News. . 

A    stirring     example     to     tho     older 
Universities. 


400 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  21,  1913. 


MR.    PUNCH'S    ACADEMY 
ENCOURAGEMENTS. 

(Dciinj  a  composite  plagiarism  of  some 

of  his  contemporaries) 
WITH  more  than  usual  pleasure  we 
lament  the  mediocrity  of  this  year's 
Academy.  Having  discharged  so  far 
the  cheerful  duty  of  the  critic  let  us 
pick  out  the  few  canvases  that  do  not 
cater  for  the  ignorant  taste  of  a  sensa- 
tion-seeking puhlic.  Foremost,  we 
must  acclaim  the  really  superb  work  of 
Mr.  Fannis  Belturp,  A  Wet  Night  in 
St.  Pancras  (East).  The  sheer  mastery 
of  no  effect  whatever  in  this  elusive  and 
nugatory  canvas  marks  it  as  the  picture 
of  the  year.  Mr.  Belturp  has  scorned 
the  mere  camera  trick  of  showing  us 
the  rain-swept  pavement,  the  flicker 
of  street  lights  on  muddy  pools,  the 
huddled  pedestrians,  the  suggestion  of 
firelight  through  closely-drawn  curtains, 
that  disfigure  Mr.  Hahhs  Polthorp's 
treatment  of  a  similar  subject  in 
^  iSiimmer  Memories,  1912.  Mr.  Belturp 
*  *n~alHbeeH  content  to  show  us  nothing 
at  all  but  the  mastery  of  his  brush 
over  his  observation — and  we  are  grate- 
ful to  him. 

Eealism  can  only  be  welcome  when 
it  is  as  loftily  treated  as  in  Mr.  Stirl- 
wing's  Rise  or  Fall  ? — a  Wire  from 
Throgmorton  Street.  Where  few  artists 
could  resist  the  temptation  to  pander 
to  sensationalism,  Mr.  Stirlwing  (who 
as  a  brilliant  contributor  to  the  Unionist 
Press  is  equally  facile  with  his  pen  as 
his  brush)  has  kept  austerely  to  his 
verities.  The  scene  of  this  historic 
picture  is  an  interrupted  Cabinet 
Meeting.  A  secretary  has  entered  with 
a  telegram,  and  the  ATTORNEY-GENERAL 
opens  .the  envelope  •  with  trembling 
hands.  (We  remember  nothing  so 
masterly  as  this  tremble  since  CAR- 
LOTTI'S  great  picture,  in  the  1896 
Salon,  of  The  Earthquake  at  Lisbon.} 
Various  members  of  the  Cabinet  cluster 
around  him,  forgetful  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  War  from  Montenegro  which 
lies  on  the  table.  The  ready-reckoner 
in  the  hands  of  the  CHANCELLOR  OF  THE 
EXCHEQUER  is  indicated  with  amazing 
technique.  Equally  powerful  is  the 
double  motif  which  deliberately  forces 
the  attention  from  the  tensity  of  this 
central  group  to  the  stern  chiascuros  of 
Viscount  MORLEY,  sitting  in  stony 
aloofness,  the  flushed  and  indignant 
PREMIER,  and  the  delightfully  spon- 
taneous irritation  of  the  MINISTER  OP 
FOREIGN  AFFAIRS,  who  has  been  ob- 
viously disturbed  during  an  exposition 
of  policy.  Loath  as  we  are  to  commend 
any  picture  which  "  tells  a  story,"  we 
cannot  deny  the  dramatic  inventiveness 
of  this  remarkable  work,  albeit  that  it 


obtains   what   is   best   described   as  a 
succes  de  scandale. 

Commendable     again    is    the    fiery 


The  policy  outlined  in  the  manifesto 
includes,  (1)  compulsory  use  of  the 
fustanclla,  (2)  free  instruction  in  the 


bravura  of  Mr.  Angus  McOban's  sombre  comamusa  or  bagpipes,  (3)  compulsory 
little   battle   picture,   "  The    Observer "   signature     of     all     leadins      arhVloa 
Mixed  Metaphor;  and  the 


pursuing  a 

sheer  triumph  of  delicate  whimsicality 
over  photographic  commonplaces  in 
Mr.  Herbert  Cockayne's  Central  Peak 
of  the  Caucasus — as  seen  from  Chelsea. 
It  is  lamentable  that  these  pictures 
we  have  approved  are  almost  the  only 
works  of  the  year  that  conform  to  even 
those  rudimentary  canons  of  the  painter, 
that  the  object  of  his  art  should  be  to 
surprise  rather  than  to  please,  to  be- 
wilder rather  than  to  gratify  the  senses, 
to  stimulate  the  educated  modern  desire 
for  a  puzzle  competition  rather  than 
the  philistine  and  Victorian  craving  for 
mere  vulgar  beauty.  Again  and  again 
the  critical  perception  is  outraged  in 
this  exhibition  by  such  wilfully  retro- 
grade attempts  as  Mr.  St.  John 
Palmer's  Sunset  on  the  Indian  Ocean, 
a  meticulous  reproduction,  banally  per- 
fect in  colour  and  spirit,  of  a  crude 
effect  of  Nature  that  can  be  seen  by  any 
globe-trotter;  or  Mr.  Parton  Hobbs's 
orthodox  Magic  of  ths  Moonlight ;  or 
Miss  Sylvia  Lortimer's  Cattle  at  the 
Ford,  wherein  the  cattle  are  so  like  real 
cattle  and  the  water  so  alive  with  light 
and  movement  that  we  left  this  year's 
Academy  with  a  feeling  as  regards 
British  Art  that  is  akin  to  despair. 


COMING    KINGS. 

THE  following  unofficial  account  of 
some  of  the  candidates  for  the  throne  of 
Albania  will,  Mr.  Punch  feels  sure,  be 
of  interest  and  profit  to  his  readers : — 

Lord  CURZON  OF  KEDLESTON,  who 
has  been  approached  by  the  deputies 
in  London,  has  neither  declined  nor 


accepted    the 
throne.     It  is 


offer   of    tho    Albanian 
understood  that  he  has 


insisted  on  tho  following  conditions, 
which  are  receiving  careful  considera- 
tion :  The  inclusion  in  his  territories  of 
the  Thraeian  Chersonese,  to  be  spelt 
Curzonese  in  future ;  and  a  salute  of 
199  pompoms  on  all  public  occasions. 

The  Italian  candidate  is,  we  under- 
stand, Signor  GIULIO  GARVINI,  the 
famous  publicist  and  editor  of  the 
Tromba  della  Sera.  Signor  GARVINI  as 
an  unparalleled  exponent  of  tho  lingna 
Toscana  is  naturally  much  favoured  by 
the  Tosks,  but  the  Ghegs,  the  other 
great  Albanian  tribe,  regard  him  with 
undisguised  hostility.  It  is  believed, 
however,  that  he  will  conciliate  them  in 
the  masterly  manifesto  which  he  has 
issued  in  seventeen  successive  issues 
of  his  paper,  and  -which  GABRIELE 
D'  ANNUNZIO  has  hailed  as  the  supreme 
emanation  of  cosmic  pluriloquence. 


signature  of  all  leading  articles, 
(4)  abolition  of  the  dramatic  censor- 
ship, (5)  universal  use  of  italic  type. 

Another  formidable  candidate,  indeed 
in  some  ways  the  most  formidable  of 
all,  is  Sir  GILBERT  PARKEH.  Inter- 
viewed last  Saturday  by  a  represen- 
tative of  The  Prizrend  Gazette,  Sir 
GILBERT  is  reported  to  have  said  that 
he  would  cheerfully  accept  the  responsi- 
bilities of  founding  a  Gilbertian  dynasty 
provided  he  could  count  on  the  loyal 
co-operation  of  his  varied  subjects.  He 
pointed  out  as  a  curious  presentiment 
of  the  position  he  was  destined  to  fill 
that  he  wrote  The  Scats  of  the  Mighty 
no  fewer  than  fifteen  years  ago.  As 
for  his  other  qualifications  he  laid  stress 
on  his  early  travels  in  the  South  Sea 
Islands  and  his  addiction  to  golf,  a 
game  admirably  suited  to  the  climate 
and  configuration  of  Albania.  A  photo- 
graph of  Sir  GILBERT  PARKER  in  the 
national  costume,  carrying  a  two-handed 
battle-axe  in  his  teeth,  is  being  exten- 
sively circulated  in  the  blue  Albanian 
Highlands. 

Lastly  there  is  Sir  HERBERT  BEER- 
BOHM  TREE,  who  bases  his  claim  on 
his  all-round  versatility.  In  a  most 
interesting  interview  with  tho  Parlia- 
mentary representative  of  The  Daily 
News  Sir  HERBERT  remarked  that 
from  earliest  youth  he  had  been  a 
great  admirer  of  the  heroic  SCANDEKBEG 
and  had  mastered  the  two  Albanian 
auxiliary  verbs,  Ktlm,  "  I  have,"  and 
Yam,  "  I  am."  He  agreed  with  HAHN, 
the  famous  philologist,  that  the  term 
ShMpetar,  by  which  the  Albanians 
call  themselves,  was  probably  a  parti- 
cipial from  shkyipoij,  "  I  understand." 
Again,  the  Albanian  language  was  ex- 
tremely vocal,  the  climate  was  healthy, 
and  the  sardines  of  Lake  Scutari  singu- 
larly palatable.  He  was  not  daunted 
by  the  fierce  and  lawless  disposition  of 
the  people,  being  convinced  that  they 
might  soon  be  mollified  once  they  were 
freed  from  the  burden  of  an  alphabet 
containing  fifty-two  letters.  Sir  HKR- 
BERT  TREE  then  sang  a  little  Albanian 
song  and  went  through  some  striking 
exercises  with  a  yataghan. 


Commercial  Candour. 

"HEALTH  BISCUITS. 

Nice  and  Tasty,  handled  by  our 

55  salesmen  daily. 
Advt.  in  ••  Montreal  Daily  Star." 


Not  for  us. 


From  a  second-hand  book  catalogue : 
"Dickens  (C)— Pic-Nic  Papers." 
Just  the  thing  to  wrap  the  sandwiches  in. 


MAY  21,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


401 


ROYAL    ACADEMY    SECOND    DEPRESSIONS. 


ESJ 


PORTRAITS  WHILE  YOU  WAIT.   COUNTRY  ORDERS 
i  TED  W1T1J  PROMPTNESS  AND  DISPATCH. 


THE  HAIRDRESSERS'  GAZETTE  EYEBROW 


MR.  FORBES- ROBERT- 
SON IN  "  THE  LIGHT  THAT 
SUCCEEDED." 


THE  BOOT-CLUB.     (INSET — THE  PAST- 
MASTER  OF  THK  LEATHER-SELLERS'  Co.) 


WJNNEB  or  FIBST  PRIZE.     WINNEB  OP  SECOND  PRIZE. 


THE  SPHINX 


The  Gentle  Militant.  "On,  I  HOPE  re 

WyN'T  GO  OFF  AFTHB   ALL." 


"  I  MUST  TELL  THAT  STUPID  NURSE 

(WHEN  I  LEARN  TO  TALK)  THAT  IT  'B 

A  MOST  DANGEROUS  THING  TO  LEAVE 
A  LARGE   CAT  IN   A   BABY'S  COT." 


THE  CATCH  OF  THE  SEASON. 


MC  DINNER   AT  THH   HOTEL  DlVKS.      TlIF,  MlSS   LlLLAH  MCCARTHY,  AN   EARLY   LORD  MAYOR'S   SHOW. 

PRISE    COURSE    OF    I1ANK-NOTKS    AND    8OVER-        AS     JOCASTA,      INDIGNANTLY  The  LtOll.    "  NOT  MUCH  FUN   IN  THIS  FOB  ME!" 

REPUDIATES  THE  CHARGE  OF 
I'.KING   A    GRANDMOTHER. 


402 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIAEIVAM 


[MAT  21,  1913. 


!•***-  f 

OMant  Major.  -IT'S  GLAD  I  AM  TO  SEE  YE  ABOUT  AGAIN,  ME  DEAE  LADY:    BUT  WHAT  WAS  n  THAT  WAS  TEOTOUNO  rot 
Convalescent.  "I  WAS  VEBY,  VERY  ILL.  MAJOB.  THEOUCH  PTOMAINE  POISONIKQ."  fi 

Major.  "0KAB.  DEAB,  NOW  I    WHAT  WITH  THAT  AN'  DEUBIUM  TBE^NS  YOU  NEVEE  KNOW  WHAT  TO  EAT  OB  DRINK 


BRYAN'S  BREACHES. 

Mn.  WILLIAM  J.  BRYAN'S  official  tee- 
total banquets  at  Washington,  at  which 
nothing  but  water  or  unfermented  wine 
was  consumed,  have  had  the  effect  of 
instilling  courage  into  other  public 
hosts  who  were  previously  unready  to 
make  their  guests  the  victims  of  their 
own  fads. 

Thus  news  comes  from  Foxington  of 
a  recent  dinner  given  by  the  Quaker 
mayor  of  that  ancient  borough,  who 
believes  that  the  oats  which  bear  the 
name  of  his  pacific  sect  are  the  only 
proper  sustenance  for  man.  Hitherto 
when  entertaining  his  fellow-townsmen 
the  mayor  has  provided  whatever  good 
things  were  in  season,  but  last  week 
nothing  but  oats  was  placed  on  the 
table.  These,  it  is  true,  were  prepared 
in  a  great  variety  of  ways,  but  none 
the  less  the  result  was  somewhat 
monotonous,  and  it  is  stated  that 
the  suppers  that  were  demolished  later 
in  the  evening  by  the  homo-returned 
guests  were  Gargantuan. 

Consternation  reigned  at  the  annual 
Hunt  Dinner  in  the  Vale  of  Beedle 
the  other  night  when  it  was  discovered 
that  the  new  Master,  who  is  a  con- 


firmed three-bottle  man  of  the  old 
school,  had  provided  nothing  but  a 
very  powerful  port  for  his  guests  and 
had  given  strict  orders  that  no  other 
liquid  was  to  bs  served.  Men  who  were 
notorious  martyrs  to  gout  and  who 
looked  upon  port  as  a  parnicious 
poison  were  seen  with  their  tongues 
lolling  out,  victims  of  a  terrible  thirst. 
Others,  however,  made  a  gallant  effort 
to  absorb  the  obsolete  fluid  in  the 
required  quantity  and  were  removed  in 
ambulances. 

Tidings  of  vegetarian  and  fruitarian 
banquets  given  by  devotees  of  those 
cults  also  reach  us.  An  especially 
distressing  case  is  that  of  the  Inter- 
national Society  of  Wrestlers  and 
Weight  Lifters,  whohave  just  appointed 
as  their  President  an  ex -Hercules  of 
great  wealth  who  turns  out  to  have 
embraced  the  tenets  of  Mr.  BERNARD 
SHAW  and  Mr.  EUSTACE  MILES  with 
remarkable  fervour.  The  result  is 
that  when  the  company,  numbering 
some  hundred-and-seventy,  including 
HACKENBCHMIDT,  MADRALI,  and  Mr. 
SANDOW,  sat  down,  there  was  nothing 
for  them  but  nuts,  tomatoes,  biscuits, 
and  barley  water.  A  vote  was  hurriedly 
taken,  the  President  deposed,  and  a 


united  and  determined  raid  was  made 
on  the  Beefsteak  Club. 

But  the  worst  effect  of  Mr.  BRYAN'S 
relentless  Amphitryoniclogic  is  reported 
from  Walls,  in  Yorkshire,  where  a  Free- 
mason, upon  whom  fell  the  duty  pi 
entertaining  a  body  of  his  fellows  in 
that  mystery,  confined  the  repast  to  a 
menu  costing  only  fifteen-pence  a  head, 
that  being,  he  said,  the  sum  beyond 
which  his  conscience  could  not  allow 
him  to  go.  No  man,  he  affirmed,  ought 
to  spend  more  than  that  on  any  meal 
to  do  so  was  "  sinful  luxury  anc 
gourmandising."  When  remonstrated 
with,  he  said  that  his  conscience  was 
his  master  and  Mr.  BUYAN  was  an 
excellent  example.  How  such  a  man 
ever  became  a  Mason  is  the  puzzle 
but  his  determination  in  the  matter 
has  given  a  tremendous  lillip  to  avarice 
all  over  the  East  Riding. 

What  to  do  with  our  Boys. 

"  It  was  also  decided  to  place  slackers  upon 
the  Abbey  for  the  purpose  of  controlling  thf 
water  supply."- — Lincolnshire  Free-  1'rcss. 

Revival  of  Chivalry  in  the  Far  East. 
"  Carlylo's  '  Horses  and  Hero  Worship  '  ha. 
been  translated  into  Chinese." 

Edinburgh  Evening  Dispatch. 


PUNCH,   OE  THE   LONDON   CHAEIVAEI.— MAY  21.   1913. 


PEACE    COMES    TO    TOWN. 

SIR  GREY.  "  PEITHEE,  FATE  DAMSEL,  SEE  TO  IT  THAT  YE  SIT  CLOSE,  FOR  I  MIND 
MR  THAT  THE  LAST  TIME  WE  TWAIN  FARED  THIS  WAY  TOGETHER  THOU  DIDST 
HAVE  THE  MISCHANCE  TO  SLIP  OFF." 


MAY  21,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


405 


THK   WOMEN     w"lLL 


HALp-AN-IIOt;B.   SO  I 


GO  ON   TOP.      BE  A  6POBT  AND  OO  INSIDZ  WITH 


THE    HERO    OF    THE    HOUR. 

(An  att»»ipt  lo  introduce  a  new  style  of  cricket-reporting,  suitable  to  an  age  where  every  effort  has  to  be  made  to  revive 

popular  interest  in  the  County  tournament.) 
SING,  all  who  list,  to-day  of  leg-side  glances  ;  Straight  from  his  tram  he  sauntered  to  the  wicket, 

Honour  the  idols  of  the  Made  and  pill  ;  I  should  say  turnstile.     Little  did  he  care 

Tliel,°""g  c?lt..s  actio?1  and  its_  curious  prance?,  For  shibboleths  of  style  ;  he  came  for  cricket. 

His  light-blue  optics  had  the  sea-dog's  stare  ; 
Weather  deters  some  sportsmen  —  Alf  could  stick  ib 
Frowning  alike  and  fair. 


1  Old  Tom's  "  experience  and  "  Eazor*"  Bill ; 
Mine  he  the  Muse  that  chats  about  the  chances 
Of  takings  at  the  till. 


Cricket,  you  know,  is  dead  because  the  batter 
Will  stick  his  leg  in  front  of  breaking  balls  ; 

Save  for  a  few  staunch  souls  (and  these  may 

scatter) 
The  public  dwindles,  the  attendance  falls. 

Well,  I  'm  a  bard.     Wise  bards  have  learnt  to  flatter 
The  despots,  not  the  thralls. 

These  are  my  heroes.     Loudly  I  extol  'em, 
Patting  their  backs  because  their  ardours  wane, 

Starting  with  Alfred  Jenkinson.     A  column 
Given  to  Alfred,  and,  although  with  pain, 

Alf  will  turn  out  for  Surrey  (here  's  my  solemn 
O.ith  on  it,  Sirs)  again. 

He  was  a  rare  one,  Alf,  the  stonewall-hator; 

I  lake  him  as  a  type ;  he  made  you  laugh ; 
Nimble  of  wits,  as  good  all-round  spectator 

As  Surrey  ever  had,  yet  spito  his  chaff 
None  know  his  mind  so  well,  none  spoke  it  straighter. 

Sensible?     Alf?     Not  'alf. 


Fond  of  his  glass,  too,  yet  no  feckless  lover, 
Lest  deep  potations  should  impair  his  thought ; 

He  liked  the  huge  hit  hovering  like  a  plover, 

The  stumps  knocked  out ;    and  when  the  strain 
was  taut 

Never  a  bumpball  flew  to  slips  or  cover 
But  Alfred  cried,  "  Well  caught !  " 

And  many  a  tale  he  had  of  old-time  hitting 
By  long  dead  heroes  of  a  doughtier  bat : 

Officials  at  the  entrance  smiled,  admitting 
The  well-known  figure,  now  a  trifle  fat 

(But  tough  and  stalwart  still)  from  years  of  sitting, 
Topped  by  the  brown  straw  hat. 

And  now  shall  Alfred  leave  us  ?     Not  if  twaddle 
Tuned  to  the  motley  lyre  can  keep  him  warm  ; 

Ho  is  the  happy  warrior,  he  can  swaddle 

The  game  of  cricket  from  the  gathering  storm. 

"  Huge  score  by  Alf  off  Sussex" — that 's  my  model — 
"  Alfred  in  verbal  form  !  "  EVOK. 


406 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVAKI. 


[MAY  21,  1913. 


FAIR  PLAY. 

I  AM  by  nature  no  partisan.  I  take 
no  sides  in  any  public  dispute.  I  am 
neither  a  Vivisectionist  nor  an  Antivivi- 
sectionist,  a  Marconite  nor  a  Poulsenite. 
I  will  produce  my  Post  OHice  Savings 
Bank  book  if  necessary.  To  show  my 
absolute  neutrality  in  the  vexed  question 
of  vaccination,  I  have  been  vaccinated 
on  one  arm  but  not  on  the  other. 

The  furthest  I  have  ever  permitted 
myself  to  go  towards  forming  public 
opinion  is  to  mention,  as  I  do  now,  that 
I  a:n  not  a  Militant 
Suffragist. 

What  likes  and  dis- 
likes I  have  are  of  a 
private  nature.  They 
do  not  lend  themselves 
to  advertisement,  are  not 
represented  by  any  par 
ticular  colours  nor  easily 
epitomized  in  a  motto 
on  a  banner.  Bad  as 
I  may  be,  I  am  no  pro- 
cessionalist. 

Frankly,  I  detest  pro- 
cessions. I  do  not  walk 
in  them,  and,  when  I 
have'  to  crawl  behind 
them  in  a  taxi-cab,  I 
find  myself  out  of  sym- 
pathy with  their  object. 
Nevertheless,  I  subsidize 
them,  especially  those  of 
sects  hostile  to  the  public 
(including  myself)  and 
destructive  of  private 
property  (including  my 
own). 

I  am,  in  short,  a  metro- 
politan ratepayer,  more 
particularly  a  police-rate- 
payer. 

I  should  say  I  am 
two  ratepayers,  one  in 
respect  of  my  flat,  one 
in  respect  of  my  City 
premises.  The  two 
policemen  I  finance  are 
exclusively  employed  in 


have  not  the  honour  to  be  an  English- 
man, to  congratulate  your  Department 
upon  the  magnificent  impartiality 
shown  in  your  police  arrangements. 
It  is  admirable,  unique.  You  say, 
"  No,  no."  I  reply,  "  Yes,  yes."  Both 
of  us  have  the  inner  feeling  that  I  am 
tho  more  accurate.  So  much,  Sir,  for 
the  amenities. 

I  have  now  to  approach  your  good 
self  upon  a  matter  of  business.  Cer- 
tain of  us  upon  the  Continent  are 
intending  to  make  a  military  display  of 
some  realism  and  magnitude  in  this 


IN  THE   GOOD  OLD  DAYS. 

Mistress.  "  GOOD  GRACIOUS,  JANE,  WHATEVEB  's  HAPPENED  TO  MASTER 
WILLY,  AND  WHEBE'S  Miss  MAUD?" 

Jane  (just  returned  from  a  quiet  stroll).  "  THIS  HANIMAI,  WOT  I  'M  'OLDING 
is  Miss  MAUD.  WE  MET  ONE  OF  THESE  'EBE  MAGICIANS  AND  'E  CAST  A  SPELL 
OVEB  'EB.  AND  MASTER  WILLY  HEBE,  'B  'AD  THE  HISFOBTUNE  TO  BE  OVEB- 
LOOKED  BY  A  GENT  WOT  PAD  THE  HEEVIL  IlEYE." 


-  .  protecting 

avowed  anarchists,  male  and  female, 
on  the  march,  enabling  them  to  flaunt 
and  further  their  lawless  business,  and 
saving  them  from  the  destruction  of 
those  whose  property,  if  not  their 
lives,  they  are  candidly  purposing  to 
destroy. 

I  would  not,  of  course,  go  so  far  as  to 
cease  paying  for  the  preservation  of 
my  enemies,  but  I  have  allowed  myself 
tho  consolation  of  writing  a  letter 
about  it.  Have  I  addressed  The  Times 
in  solemn  protest?  No.  Have  I 
written  to  Mr.  McKENNA  in  a  more 
sarcastic  and  reckless  vein  ?  Yes. 

DKAK  Sm  (I  wrote  in  a  foreign  tongue 
and  a  lying  spirit),— Permit  me,  who 


stir  the  active  passions  of  your  excitabl 
men-in-the-street.  In  a  word,  the  live 
of  us  invaders  may  be  in  jeopardy,  o 
at  least  we  must  be  subjected  to  con 
siderable  annoyance  and  grave  incon 
venience,  unless  we  have  the  protection 
of  your  Scotland  Yard.  It  is  for  tha 
I  am  instructed  to  ask. 

I  venture  to  enclose  a  plan,  showing 
our  proposed  route  of  triumph,  the 
spots  marked  in  red  being  the  suggestec 
sites  for  the  more  impressive  turns  o 
our  programme.  May  I  ask  that  thi: 
route  be  adequately  patrolled  by  you 
Roberts,  with  strong  anc 
stalwart  reinforcements 
at  tho  spots  indicated' 
Indeed,  I  would  go  so 
far  as  to  suggest  that  a 
those  places  a  number  o 
plain-clothes  men  mighi 
be  infused  among  tin 
crowd,  with  the  viev 
of  foreseeing  and  fore 
stalling  any  ugly  rushc; 
and  keeping  them  well 
behaved.  In  order  to 
enable  our  artillery  to 
get  properly  to  work 
ample  elbow-room  anc 
freedom  from  hustling 
must  be  guaranteed. 

Lastly,  Sir,  I  desire 
to  press  for  an  escorl 
of  mounted  police,  or  al 
least  the  provision  oi 
one  disinterested  and 
eminently  respectable 
constable  on  horseback 
to  ride  slightly  in  the 
van  of  our  advancing 
battalions.  I  dare  to 
think  that  this  arrange 
ment  would  bo  entirely 
in  accordance  with  the 
wishes  of  your  citizens. 
No  Londoner,  I  am  sure, 
would  regard  the  invasion 
of  his  metropolis  as 
olerable  unless  it  were 
led,  I  should  say  per- 
conducted,  by  a  mounted 
of  his  own  police.  The 


own ; 


sinister    interpretation. 


am    not, 


however,  in  a  position  to  gloss  it  over, 
but  have  merely  to  submit  that  that  is 
the  more  reason  for  affording  police 
protection  to  our  invading  forces. 

We  shall  arrive  in  considerable  num- 
bers and  desire  not  to  experience  an 
unnecessarily  hostile  reception.  The 
friendship  between  our  two  countries  is 
a  fragile  one,  likely  to  break  if  shaken. 
It  will  not,  I  think,  stand  the  strain  of 
an  invasion.  Tho  demolition  of  all 
your  public  buildings  and  of  not  a  few 


London   of  yours.      It   is    not   usual, !  sonally 

you  will  agree,  for  foreign  armies   to '  sergeant 

manoeuvre  in  capitals  other  than  their  expense  will,  I  assume,  be" no  obstacle; 

««••"•  sucli^a  proceeding  is  open  to  a  the  ratepayer  is  entitled  to  bear  that; 

it  is  his  privilege.  Ho  would  not 
consent  to  his  defeat  and  subjection 
unless  it  was  apparent  to  him  that 
he  was  defraying  the  cost  of  it  from 
his  own  pocket. 

Your  humble  Servant,      SCHMIDT. 
To  this  letter  I  have  as  yet  received 
no  reply. 

LSse-Majeste. 

"The  Imporator  has  had  an  unfortunate 
life  so  far.  When  she  was  launched  a  year 
ago  a  section  of  steel  chain  weighing  several 
hundredweight,  whic'i  had  snapped,  just 


».  .  7  "<?  .  ~     .      .      "  nunareawejglit,    wnioU    Jnu 

of  your  private  individuals  is  likely  to  missed  the  Kaiser."— Daily 


MAY  21,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


407 


Boy.  "Hi,  MISTEB,  HI!" 

Boy.  "Di-Nxo. 


Lancer  (scouting).  "WnAT  is  IT?    HAVE  YOU  SEEN  THE  ENEMY?" 

YOU   GET  MY  KITE  DOWN  WITH  YOUB  FLAQ-POLE?" 


SPEEDING    UP. 

DEAR  Ma.  PUNCH, — My  attention, 
as  they  say,  has  been  called  to  an 
interview  in  which  a  "  director  of  a 
West  End  shop  "  has  imparted  to  the 
Press  his  views  upon  the  question  of 
stealing  from  shops.  It  seems  that  "  a 
prominent  draper"  has  made  a  list 
of  some  of  the  tricks  of  the  shop-lifter 
by  way  of  showing  his  remarkable 
ingenuity.  Now,  Sir,  this  sort  of  thing 
cannot  be  allowed  to  go  unchallenged. 
As  a  successful  shop-lifter  of  fully  thirty 
years'  experience,  perhaps  I  may  bo 
allowed  a  few  words  of  criticism.  For 
really  the  methods  here  referred  to, 
although  some  of  them  may  have  been 
practised  at  one  time  by  the  trade, 
are  no  longer  employed  by  any  self- 
respecting  member  of  the  profession. 
They  are  obsolete,  worked-out,  perhaps 
I  may  say  mid-Victorian.  He  speaks 
of  a  "  bag  which  sucks  up  the  desired 
article  when  placed  upon  it,"  of  "  paste 
in  tho  hollow  of  the  foot"  (placed,  I 
presume,  on  the  counter),  and  so  on. 
Possibly  such  devices  may  still  linger 
in  out-of-the-way  corners  of  the 
Provinces,  but  I  doubt  it.  Then  he 
revives  again — it  came  back  to  me  as 
a  welcome  memory  of  my  very  earliest 
apprenticeship — the  worn  old  expedient 
of  the  pet  dog  (with  a  pocket  in  its 
collar)  which  has  been  trained  to  make 
for  home  as  soon  as  its  burden  has  been 


secreted.  Well,  well !  we  cannot  afford 
to  stand  still  in  our  business,  and 
methods  have  advanced  a  good  long 
way  since  those  old  days. 

It  was  when  some  of  our  big  stores 
first  opened  roof-garden  restaurants 
that  the  carrier  pigeon  came  into 
vogue.  One  makes  him  swallow 
diamonds  and  then  lets  him  loose  during 
lunch.  I  have  also  employed  white 
mice.  One  of  their  best  characteristics 
is  their  faculty  for  running  under 
counters  and  into  the  back  recesses  of 
shelves,  and  I  have  seen  them  trot  up 
my  leg  into  my  pocket  with  a  five- 
pound  note  or  a  gold  pin  in  their 
mouths  quite  unobserved  (one  wears, 
of  course,  white  trousers).  There  was 
a  pal,  I  mean  a  colleague,  of  mine  who 
used  to  dip  their  feet  in  bird-lime  and 
then  make  them  potter  about  among 
the  jewellery.  But  that  was  a  sticky 
business  at  the  best. 

The  fountain  pen  with  a  powerful 
magnet  in  the  nib  was  much  used  at 
one  time.  You  had  only  to  lay  it  down 
casually  on  the  counter  and  it  collected 
things.  And  a  little  automatic  trap 
in  the  point  of  the  elbow,  which  one 
rested  casually  against  the  article 
desired,  had  a  fair  run  of  success. 
Then  I  used  to  employ  at  one  time 
a  sort  of  lasso  of  invisible  silk  for 
gathering  in  pianolas.  .  .  . 

I  am  not,  it  must  be  understood,  the 
man  to  give  a  thing  away.  I  only 


wish  the  public  to  know  that  we  arc 
not  so  miserably  lacking  in  initiative  as 
this  interview  would  seem  to  suggest. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  these  methods  also 
are  obsolete.  I  myself  am  working  on  a 
new  plan,  still  more  elaborate  perhaps, 
but  wonderfully  effective.  I  simply 
select  the  article  that  I  want  to  take 
home,  pick  it  up  when  no  one  is 
looking,  and  put  it  in  my  pocket. 

I  am,  dear  Mr.  Punch, 
Yours  respectfully,     UP-TO-DATE. 

' '  Recce  had  turned  the  500  mark  before  he 
played  a  missing  cannon  (ho  then  recorded  51 
of  these  strokes)." — Daily  Chronicle. 

Our  favourite  stroke,  our  record  being 
63  consecutive  ones. 


"Thero  were  many  arguments  ncm  and 
con,  but  tho  writer  cannot  see  how  the 
stewards  could  have  decided  otherwise." 

Daily  Xews. 
The  nems  have  it. 


"  The  President  [of  tho  Board  of  Trade]  has 
appointed  Mr.  F.  H.  McLeod  (now  Director  of 
Statistics  in  tho  Labour  Department)  to  be 
Director  of  the  Department  of  Labour 
Statistics . ' ' — Times. 

England  is  awake  again. 


"  Tho  first  part  of  tho  lecture  concluded 
with  a  good  example  of  the  Swiss  yokel  song 
on  tho  gramaphono." 

Bournemouth  Daily  Echo. 

So    much    better    than    the    curate's 
imitation  of  the  hackneyed  jodel. 


408 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARI. 


[M.\Y  21,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"TnK  SEVEN  SISTKKS." 
IT  takes  the  liberty  of  calling  itself 
a  "  comedy,"  by  the  same  licence  that 
they  use  at  the  Gaiety.  It  is  in  fact  a 
musical  comedy  with  the  music  mostly 
away— a  loss  for  which  the  absence  of 
a  chorus  makes  full  compensation.  It 
differs,  too,  from  musical  comedy  by 
the  fact  that  the  plot  is  actually 
intelligible.  This  is  not  to  say  that  it 
is  also  reasonable;  indeed,  of  the  three 
ruses  employed  by  Count  Horkoy  to 
achieve  the  marriage  of  the  three  eldest 
daughters  of  Widow  Gyurkovics,so  as 
to  clear  the  way  for  his  own  wedlock 
with  the  fourth,  two  at  least  were  a 
waste  of  ingenuity,  since  the  lovers 
needed  no  pressure.  But  it  was  some- 
thing to  see  what  the  author  was 
driving  at,  even  if  his  trick  of  creating 
difficulties  for  the  sake  of  overcoming 
them  was  frankly  transparent. 

The  scene  is  Hungary  where  thebands 
come  from.  As  for  local  colour,  it  is  not 
for  me,  or  the  Censor,  to  complain  of 
the  spectacle  of  a  Colonel  of  Hun- 
garian Hussars  who  gets  drunk  at  a 
fancy-dress  ball  and  introduces  a 
Lieutenant  of ' Besorv.es  (in  the. same 
condition)  into  the  dormitory  of  his 
four  or  five  sisters-in-law  in  tho  middle 
of  the  night;  for  both  the  author 
and  translator  of  the  play  (presumably 
designed  for  local  consumption)  are 
Hungarians,  and  between  them  they 
should  know  what  is  expected  of  native 
officers  in  the  matter  of  appropriate 
behaviour.  For  us,  so  long  as  they 
wore  their  dolmans  well  and  had  those 
nice  wriggly  patterns  in  gold  braid 
down  the  fagado  of  their  breeches,  we 
were  not  careful  to  ask  whether  their 
manners  were  a  credit  to  the  cavalry  of 
the  Kaiser- King. 

That  good  actor,  Mr.  NORMAN  TREVOR 
(to  whose  excursion  into  management 
I  heartily  wish  success),  was  a  sound 
master  of  the  ceremonies,  and  kept 
things  going  whenever  ho  was  there  to 
'look  after  them.  But  the  most  arresting 
figure  was  Miss  LAURA  COWIK  as  the 
fourth  sister,  a  remarkable  flapper  of 
sixteen-and-a-half  years,  whose  exotic 
beauty  must  have  distinguished  her 
even  among  the  storied  belles  of  Buda- 
Pesth.  A3  she  was  required  by  her 
mother  to  dress  and  behave  like  a  child 
of  thirteen-and-a-half  (so  as  not  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  her  elder  sisters' 
prospects),  one  looked  for  a  certain 
amount  of  sophistication.  But  it  was 
overdone.  For  all  her  girlish  agility, 
the  innocent  wonder  in  her  big  eyes, 
and  her  length  of  visible  stocking,  this 
Mid  was  a  very  precocious  young  per- 
son, well  advanced  into  the  ago  of  indis- 
cretion. But  if  Miss  COWIE  could  not 


completely  disguise  her  own  striking 
personality  it  was  still  a  clover  perform- 
ance Perhaps  she  was  at  her  best 
when  her  quick  brain  went  into  her 
feet  in  a  charming  Hungarian  measure, 
which  she  (lanced  with  tho  greatest  verve. 
It  was  rather  sad  to  see  Mr.  EDMUND 
MAURICE  playing  a  fire-eating,  dram- 
drinking,  jealous  old  Colonel  of  farce, 
after  his  recent  performances  in  serious 
drama,  but  his  fine  intelligence  gave 
distinction  to  a  commonplace  part. 
Mr.  SAM  SOTHERN,  as  a  blackguard 
who  in  his  moments  of  insobriety 
strongly  resented  blackguardly  conduct 
in  another,  was  very  amusing  in  the 
trappings  of  a  Eoman  lictor,  and  might 


Count  Feri  HorJcoy  (Mr.  NORMAN  THEVOU) 
to  Mid  (Miss  LAUKA  COWIE).  "  You  have  the 
gladdest  eye  in  all  Savoy-Hungary  I  " 

have  done  great  execution  with  his 
axe  upon  the  timorous  Cceur-de-Lion 
of  Mr.  THESIGER  if  his  deeds  had  been 
as  big  as  his  words.  By  aid  of  a 
pleasant  stammer  Mr.  THESIGER  con- 
trived to  sustain  the  part  of  an  amorous 
and  Toots-\ike  youth  of  no  particular 
consequence. 

For  a  family  of  sisters  so  prono  to 
marriage  it  was  difficult  to  find  an 
ineligible ;  yet  there  was  one  such  in 
the  person  of  Toni,  a  sort  of  village 
idiot,  played  with  extraordinary  facial 
probability  by  Mr.  BERTRAM  STEER, 
though  his  accent  seemed  to  suggest 
that  he  had  "  coom  from  Sheffield." 
Finally,  Miss  MARY  EORKE,  as  the 
mother  of  many  dowerless  daughters 
handled  her  offspring  with  a  fine  sense 
of  maternal  obligations. 

Indeed,  all  the  cast  did  its  duty 
well;  and  yet  I  cannot  honestly  say 
that  tho  piece  went  with  a  roar,  as 


a  farce  should.  Wo  laughed  goo;l- 
lumouredly  from  time  to  tune,  as 
jeople  do  at  amateur  theatricals ;  but  I 
doubt  if  there  was  a  strained  midriff 
n  the  whole  house.  It  was  not  tlmt 
;ho  fun  was  bad ;  only  that  it  was  mild 
and  that  there  was  scarcely  enough  of 
it.  In  these  respects  tho  play  reminded 
us  of  WORDSWORTH'S  Wo  are  Seven ; 
out  there  the  similarity  ended,  and, 
with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  I 
cannot  predict  that  the  popularity  of 
Mr.  TREVOR'S  production  will  ever 
come  into  serious  rivalry  with  that 
masterpiece.  O.  S. 


BOOKS  AND  THEIR  MAKEES. 

(SttuUcs  i>i  tho  Puff  Evasive.) 
MESSRS.  Pullman  and  Long-i'-th'- 
Leg  announce  a  novel  with  the  attractive 
title  of  The  Bight  Horrible  Gentleman, 
the  hero  of  which  is  a  democratic 
politician  of  the  name  of  George  Davi- 
loyd.  The  author  of  the  novel,  which 
of  course  has  no  bearing  on  current 
politics,  is  a  gifted  young  lady,  the 
daughter  of  a  retired  General  of  Artillery, 
w'ho  writes  under  tho  pen  name  of 
Messalina  Murgatroyd,  and  is  considered 
by  Mr.  C.  K.  SHORTER  to  be  our  great- 
est female  novelist  since  CHARLOTTE 
BRONTE.  .  

Another  political  novel  of  engrossing 
interest  is  The  Rival  Renegades,  which 
is  promised  us  shortly  by  Mr.  Hodley 
Bedd.  The  two  principal  characters 
are  Colonel  Jack  Wise  and  Churston 
Winchill,  both  of  whom  have  crossed 
the  floor  of  the  House  and  obtained 
high  office  shortly  after  the  transference 
of  their  allegiance.  Mr.  Hodley  Bedd, 
in  an  interesting  manifesto  which  he 
has  put  forth,  makes  it  perfectly  clear 
that  the  novel  cannot  in  any  way  be 
regarded  as  a  roman  a  clef,  the  verbal 
resemblances  in  the  names  of  the  chief 
characters  being  due  to  purecoincidence. 
Mr.  Hugo  Slazenger,  the  author,  has 
already  a  dozeu  volumes  to  his  credit, 
his  first  work  having  elicited  a  cordial 
tribute  of  praise  from  MEREDITH,  PATEB, 
and  Mr.  JAMES  DOUGLAS,  who  pro- 
nounced him  to  bo  tho  greatest  satirist 
since  JUVENAL. 

A  fascinating  novel  of  theatrical  life 
will  shortly  be  issued  through  tho  firm 
of  Doyly  and  Mush,  entitled  Crichton 
Rcdivivns.  The  story  and  characters 
are  entirely  imaginary,  the  chief  rdle 
being  assigned  to  a  wonderfully  gifted 
actor  -  manager  named  Sir  Herbert 
Shrubb,  who  late  in  life  loses  his  speak- 
ing voice  and  goes  011  the  operatic 
stage,  to  the  mingled  consternation  and 
delight  of  the  musical  public.  The 
authoress  of  this  bewitching  narrative 


MAT 

21, 

1913.] 

PUNCH, 

OR 

THK 

LONDON 

CHARIVARI. 

409 

Scene-shifter's  Wife  (during  tlie  slir'icks  of  the  Jteroim).  "  THEY  SAY  'E  's  QUITE  A.  KIND  'CSBAND  rs  PRIVATE." 


is  none  other  than  the  well-known 
poetess,  Vinolia  Soper,  whose  lyrics  are, 
in  the  opinion  of  Mr.  C.  K.  SHORTER, 
only  surpassed  by  these  of  one  other 
living  female  bard,  but  are  immeasurably 
finer  than  anything  SAPPHO  ever  wrote. 

The  heroine  of  Miss  Moira  Kiralfy's 
now  story  is,  in  the  expressive  words  of 
her  publisher,  Mr.  John  Street,  "  a  mix- 
ture of  Venus,  JOAN  OF  ARC,  GEORGE 
SAND  and  NELLIE  MELBA."  The  title 
of  the  book  is  The,  Greatest  Woman 
in  the  World,  and  the  heroine's  name 
is  Coira  Miralfy.  But  we  have  the 
most  positive  assurances  from  Mr. 
Street  that  the  story  is  not  an  auto- 
biography, in  proof  of  which  assertion 
it  is  enough  to  mention  that  Coira  is 
represented  as  being  twenty-eight  years 
of  age,  while  Miss  Moira  Kiralfy  has 
never  been  more  than  twenty-six  since 
the  South  African  War. 


"What  to  do  with,  your  old  Elephants. 

"Calgary— Tho  public  market,  which  has 
been  a  win  to  elephant  sinco  it  was  erected, 
will  probably  bo  converted  into  a  public 
swimming  bath." — Vancouver  Daily  Province. 


MOEE     DEAMATIC    COMBINES. 

THE  action  (to  which  we  referred  last 
week)  of  Sir  HERBERT  TREE  in  joining 
forces  with  Mr.  THOMAS  BEECHAM  to 
produce  the  opera  Ariadne  in  Naxos 
as  an  additional  Act  of  The  Perfect 
Gentleman  is,  we  understand,  being 
immediately  copied  in  other  managerial 
circles  where  it  is  recognised  that  this 
policy  of  two  plays  for  one  is  bound  to 
create  a  favourable  impression. 

*  *  * 

Thus  we  have  it  on  the  worst 
authority  that  Sir  GEORGE  ALEXANDER'S 
forthcoming  revival  of  The  Second  Mrs. 
Tanqucray  will  be  enriched  by  an  en- 
tirely new  Act,  in  which  Aubrey,  seek- 
ing to  mitigate  the  boredom  of  Paula, 
takes  her  to  a  musical  comedy.  The 
composition  of  this  novelty,  which  will 
be  given  in  its  entirety,  has  been 
entrusted  to  fourteen  distinguished 
specialists,  and  its  production  will  bo 
supervised  by  Mr.  GEORGE  EDWAHDES. 
The  Tanqueray  party  will  occupy  the 
stage-box  of  the  St.  James's  during  the 
performance. 

*  *  * 

Tho  Queen's  Theatre  is  also  to  be 


brought  into  line  with  the  new  move- 
ment, an  epilogue  being  added  to  the 
successful  comedy,  Get  Rich  Quick 
Walling  ford,  in  which  we  are  shown 
one  of  that  gentleman's  earliest  bene- 
factions to  the  town  he  booms — namely, 
the  erection  of  a  Picture  Palace.  The 
play  will  now  conclude  with  an  actual 
performance  as  given  in  this  building, 
some  special  film-dramas  having  been 
prepared  at  enormous  expense.  An 
entire  change  of  programme  is  to  bo 
advertised  for  Mondays  and  Thursdays. 

*  *  * 

Finally  Mr.  H.  V.  ESMOND  has  not 
yet  permitted  us  to  announce  that  he 
is  about  to  extend  his  charming  comedy, 
Eliza  comes  to  Stay,  so  that  the  various 
plays  passed  by  Sandy's  household  for 
production  by  his  actress-friend  may  be 
brought  to  actual  performance.  A  be- 
ginning is  to  be  made  with  the  strong 
"  slice-of-life  "  play,  hitherto  only  known 
to  London  audiences  through  the  frag- 
mentary quotations  made  by  Eliza  from 
the  MS.  Others  will  from  time  to  time 
be  substituted  as  occasion  serves;  and 
it  is  anticipated  that  thus  strengthened 
Eliza  should  stay  for  months  and 
months. 


410 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARL 


[MAY  21,  1913. 


CELEBRATED    TRIALS. 

I. — REX  r.  MULLINS. 

THE  prisoner  in  this  case,  which  was  tried  yesterday, 
before  Mr.  Justice  Wolbore,  was  one  Adolphus  Mullins,  of 
Dunkeld  Villa,  Lavender  Grove,  Balham.  Ho  was  charged 
on  an  indictment  with  that  lie  being  a  person  of  full  ago 
had  refrained  from  tendering  himself  or  being  accepted  as 
a  witness  before  the  Marconi  Committee.  Counsel  for  the 
Crown  were  Sir  Horace  Biff,  K.C.,  and  Mr.  Joinder.  The 
prisoner  defended  himself. 

It  appeared  from  the  opening  statement  of  bir  Horac( 
Biff  that  the  prisoner,  whose  age  was  stated  to  be  twenty- 
eight,  was  employed  as  managing  clerk  to  a  firm  of  ac- 
countants, whose  names  for  obvious  reasons  we  prefer  to 
withhold  from  publication.  Ho  had  had  ample  warning  of 
the  results  certain  to  follow  if  ho  continued  recalcitrant. 
His  employers  had  more  than  once  adjured  him  not  to 
imperil  a  good  salary  and  a  respectable  position ;  his  friends 
had  urged  him  to  be  a  man  and  get  the  business  over,  and 
Sir  ALBERT  SPICEK,  the  Chairman  of  the  Marconi  Committee, 
had  with  his  own  hand  addressed  to  him/o!<r  notices  com- 
manding his  presence  in  the  Committee-room.  It  was  not 
necessary  in  such  cases  to  send  more  than  two  notices,  and 
it  would  bo  seen  therefore  that  prisoner  had  been  treated 
with  exceptional  indulgence.  At  the  present  moment  there 
were  only  six  other  cases  of  a  similar  nature  awaiting  trial, 
and  in  five  of  these  the  defendants  were  confidently  expected 
to  make  due  submission.  He  mentioned  this  to  show  with 
what  universal  alacrity  British  subjects  all  over  the  world 
had  obeyed  the  new  statute  enforcing  their  attendance  before 
the  Committee.  The  prisoner  was  evidently  a  man  of  ob- 
stinate, he  might  almost  say  of  savagely  obstinate,  character. 
It  would  be  proved  that  he  had  thrown  Sir  ALBERT  SPICER'S 
notices  into  the  waste -paper  basket,  accompanying  this 
deeply  regrettable  act  with  words  tending  to  bring  the 
Committee  into  contempt.  He  had  actually  been  heard  to 
say  that  the  members  of  the  Committee  were  busybodies 

Prisoner  (interrupting).  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  said  they 
were 

His  Lordship  (severely).  Hush,  prisoner.  Do  not  aggra- 
vate the  painful  position  in  which  you  are  placed.  You 
will  have  an  opportunity  at  a  later  stage  of  giving  evidence 
and  of  calling  witnesses,  if  such  there  be,  on  your  own  behalf. 

Prisoner.  Oh,  all  right.  Have  it  your  own  way.  I  only 
thought — — 

His  Lordship.  What  you  thought  is  of  no  importance. 
Cogitationcs  non  debcnt  admitti. 

Police  Constable  Malting  was  the  first  witness.  On 
Thursday,  April  17,  he  went  to  prisoner's  house  at  Balham 
armed  with  a  warrant.  Prisoner  was  having  dinner.  On 
seeing  witness  he  said,  "  Halloa."  Witness  then  arrested 
him  and  gave  him  the  usual  warning.  Prisoner  said, 
"It's  this  Marconi  rubbish,  I  suppose.  If  you  can  find 
my  cheque-book  you're  cleverer  than  you  look."  Witness 
then  searched  the  house  and  found  four  notices  from  Sir 
ALBERT  SPICER  in  the  waste-paper  basket.  He  now  pro- 
duced them. 

Cross-examined  (by  Prisoner).  Had  no  grudge  against 
prisoner.  Had  never  asked  prisoner's  mother  for  a  pot  of 
ale.  Did  not  know  the  lady  and  didn't  want  to. 

The  Prisoner.  I  protest. 

His  lordship  cautioned  the  witness.  If  he  did  not  know 
the  lady  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  say  whether  lie 
wanted  to  know  her. 

At  this  point  a  woman  sitting  in  the  hack  of  the  court 
and  understood  to  be  the  prisoner's  mother  called  out  that 
the  constable  was  no  gentleman.  She  was  removed  kissing 
her  hand  to  the  judge. 


Witness,  continuing,  said  he  had  tendered  himself  as  a 
witness  to  the  Marconi  Committee.  All  the  members  of 
the  Metropolitan  Police  had  done  the  same.  Did  not  know 
when  he  would  bo  called.  Perhaps  in  two  or  three  years. 

His  Lordship.  It  is  useless  to  pursue  this  line  of  cross- 
:xamination.  The  witness  has  only  done  his  duty  as  an 
Englishman  under  the  statute. 

Other  witnesses  proved  that  the  prisoner  had  habitually 
abused  the  Marconi  Committee,  going  so  far  as  to  say  that 
:he  whole  thing  was  a  nuisance.  He  had  also  concealed 
:iis  cheque-book  and  pass-book,  thus  contravening  section  10 
of  the  statute. 

The  Prisoner  called  no  witnesses,  but  went  into  the  box 
and  made  a  long  and  rambling  statement  in  the  course  of 
which  he  appealed  to  Magna  Charta  and  •  the  Petition  of 
Right.  He  also  hinted  that  his  lordship  himself  had  not 
given  evidence  before  the  Committee  or  tendered  himself 
as  a  witness. 

His  Lordship.  I  am  excepted  in  the  schedule  which 
applies  to  Lunatics,  Field  Marshals,  Admirals  of  the  Fleet, 
Judges  of  the  High  Court  and  persons  of  no  fixed  habitation. 

The  Prisoner  then  said  that  ho  didn't  know  what  English- 
men were  coming  to  and,  leaving  the  witness-box,  resumed 
iiis  place  in  the  dock. 

His  lordship  in  a  brief  summing-up  reviewed  the  evidence, 
and  the  jury,  without  leaving  the  box,  returned  a  verdict  of 
Guilty  on  all  the  counts. 

His  lordship,  speaking  with  evident  emotion,  said  the 
prisoner  had  had  a  thoroughly  fair  and  impartial  trial.  The 
jury  could  not  consistently  with  their  oath  have  returned 
any  other  verdict.  This  kind  of  conduct  must  be  put  a 
stop  to.  The  sentence  of  the  Court  was  that  the  prisoner 
be  condemned  to  ten  years'  service  as  assistant  secre- 
tary to  the  Marconi  Committee,  to  be  followed  by  three 
years'  detention  in  a  wireless  signal  station  in  one  of 
the  Falkland  Islands. 


THE  CULT  OF  THE  REALLY  HEROIC. 
WHEN  I  was  plucked  and  my  unbending  sire 

Showed  me  the  door  without  a  grain  of  pity, 
I  wrote  some  verses  on  paternal  ire 

Which,  I  am  proud  to  think,  were  very  witty ; 
And  thanks  to  this,  the  last  of  all  his  wiggings, 
Managed  to  pay  my  first  week's  rent  in  diggings. 

I  did  not  falter  when  my  dove,  my  dear, 

Refused  me,  and  my  heart  was  knocked  to  flinders ; 

I  piled  the  pieces  over  Cupid's  bier 

And  raised  some  sort  of  Phoenix  from  the  cinders— 

A  bilious  Bird  of  Humour,  rather  skinny ; 

But,  anyway,  it  brought  me  in  a  guinea. 

And  when  my  stuff  recoiled  upon  my  head 
In  dark  profusion,  pretty  nearly  blighting 

My  best  endeavours  after  daily  bread, 

I  cursed  my  gods — but  put  the  curse  in  writing : 

Stanza  by  stanza  turned  my  bitter  burden 

To  some  gay  jest,  hoping  to  gain  some  guerdon. 

And  now,  O  merry  Muse !  when  downright  ill, 

Supine  beneath  the  influenza  demon, 
I  tell  you  I  foresee  a  doctor's  bill, 

We  can't  give  way,  we  've  got  to  put  some  steam  oil ; 
Fortes pej or aq uc passi — we've  been  through  more 
Troubles  than  this.     Come,  turn  the  thing  to  humour! 


The  Sea  Cook. 

From  "Naval Appointments"  in  TheEvening Standard:— 
"  Chief  Bunner — J.  Mowbray  to  the  Egraont." 


MAY  HI,  l!)i:t.j 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


-ill 


THE    CAMPAIGN    AGAINST    SHOP-LIFTERS. 

NEHVOUS  BUT  ABSOLUTELY  INNOCENT  CUSTOMER  MAKING  A  FEW  PURCHASES. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  SOLEMNLY  accuse  Mr.  MAUHICH  HEWLETT  of  obtaining 
sympathy  under  false  pretences.  This  is  my  case.  There 
are  few  things  that  make  a  stronger  appeal  to  me  than 
studies  of  the  mystic,  of  strange  visions,  and  of  glimpses  of 
half-human  dwellers  by  wood  and  hill.  And  as  no  writer 
can  treat  these  with  a  surer  touch  than  Mr.  HEWLETT,  I 
exulted  greatly  to  find  them  within  the  covers  of  Lore  of 
Proserpine  (MACMILLAN).  Moreover,  they  were  combined 


a  little,  should  the  special  nature  of  the  horror  demand  it ; 
but  he  must  never,  never  wink.  The  result  is  bound  to  be 
confusion  and  disillusionment. 


English  political  life,  as  Mr.  FORD  MADOX  HUEFFEE  under- 
stands it,  is  at  once  too  tedious  and  too  sordid  for  superior 
persons  to  have  anything  to  do  with.  For  this  reason 
Mr.  Blood,  a  gentleman  of  great  wealth  and  long  pedigree 
but  no  sort  of  manners,  having  a  mild  curiosity  to  witness 
the  spectacle  of  a  meteoric  Parliamentary  career,  naturally 
chose  some  viler  body  than  his  own  for  the  experiment. 

•»  r  -ni      •      t    .         i-r-r  -w-  *•  * 


ith  yet  another  favourite  theme  of  mine— the  memories  of  |  Mr.   Fleiglit   (HowABD   LATIMER)  was  a  millionaire  soap 
lonely  and  introspective  childhood.     I  may  say  at  once  that  boiler  of  Semitic  extraction  who  had  taken  a  good  University 


several  of  the  essays,  or  stories,  in  the  book  were  all  that 
my  anticipation  had  painted  them.  I  liked,  for  example, 

The  Boy  in  the  Wood"— in  spite  of  some  hateful  detail— 
for  its  quality  of  honest  inexplicability.  Also,  I  shivered 
deliriously  over  the  tale  of  "The  Fairy  Wife,"  with  its  fine 
working  up  to  the  shattering  climax  of  the  storm.  These 
things  were  all  excellent.  And  then  suddenly  I  was  faced 

ith  the  picture  of  a  crowd  of  anxious  Londoners  meeting 
at  night  in  Hyde  Park  to  worship  a  Telegraph  Messenger 
whose  name,  supplied  by  a  sympathetic  policeman,  was 
Quidnunc \  Here  I  confess  myself  baffled.  Does  Mr. 
HEWLETT  only  intend  the  somewhat  obvious  allegory,  or  is 

o  being  mystical  or  farcical,  or  what  ?  The  thing,  like  the 
others,  is  strikingly  and  cleverly  told;  the  impassioned 
appeals  from  the  crowd,  the  aloofness  of  the  uniformed  boy, 
are  seizable  and  real.  But  by  so  much  the  more  did  it,  in 
this  connection,  irritato  me.  A  dealer  in  the  occult  may 
whisper  and  frown  as  much  as  ho  likes ;  he  may  even  leer 


a  good  University 
degree  but  was  apparently  unable  to  soar  without  the  in- 
fluence of  Mr.  Blood  to  pilot  him.  Accepting  this  curious 
aeronautical  convention,  I  confess  that  for  a  great  many 
pages  of  Mr.  HUEFFER'S  latest  book  I  thought  that  I  was 
in  for  the  best  piece  of  farcical  satire  that  has  been  written 
since  Mr.  Clutterbtick's  Election.  Later  on,  however,  we 
seemed  to  strike  an  air  pocket,  or  whatever  it  is  that  aviators 
do.  For  surely  Mr.  Flcight,  if  he  was  to  justify  the 
rapidity  of  his  start,  should  have  become  at  the  very  least 
a  Cabinet  Minister.  Yet  at  the  end  of  the  novel  he  has 
only  just,  and  that  by  a  lucky  accident,  attained  to  the 
dignity  of  an  M.P.  What  is  that  for  a  millionaire  under 
patronage  whoso  pathway  is  everywhere  soaped  for  him  ? 
The  fact  is  that  Mr.  HuEFFERfinds  himself  so  much  interested 
in  his  scornful  and  amusing  criticism  of  our  habits,  our 
politics  and  our  Press  that  the  fun  and  the  movement  of  the 
plot  are  compelled  to  suffer  for  it.  But  there  is  a  great  deal 
of  happy  burlesq^a  scattered  about  in  Mr.  Fleight,  and 


412 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  21,  1913. 


there  arc  some  very  jolly  characters.  Especially  do  I  like 
Miss  Macphail,  the  German  editress  of  The  Halfpenny 
WcrL-Iti,  and  Clunij  Macplierson,  the  poet,  who  goes  about 
reciting  his  sonnets  and  making  in  a  high-pitched  voice 
such  remarks  as  this  :  "  I  knew  a  nasty  fellow  called  Doe, 
whose  aunt  always  toasted  the  late  Queen  in  China  tea, 
and  she  had  a  sister  who  bred  Newfoundlands."  There 
was,  in  fact,  a  lot  to  laugh  at  before  we  planed  down, 
but  exactly  what  it  was  all  about  please  don't  ask  me.  I 
am  still  in  the  air  as  to  that. 


Any  book  about  life  on  the  other  side  of  tho  bridges  that 
conies  with  tho  explicit  recommendation  of  Mr.  ALEXANDER 
PATKKSON  will  show  tho  fine  qualities  of  sincerity  and 
reality,  for  he  speaks  as  one  having  tho  authority  of  know- 
ledge and  not  as  many  scribes  with  an  equipment  of 
imaginative  theories.  He  has  written  a  characteristic 
preface  to  Halfpenny  Alley  (SMITH,  ELDER),  by  MARJORY 
HARDCASTLB,  a  nurse  whose  pictures  of  the  folk  to  whom 
she  has  ministered  have  been  cleverly  worked  up  from  the 
notes  of  her  diary.  She 
has  the  power  of  visua- 
lising and  vitalising  the 
characters  which  she  has 
observed  with  the  preci- 
sion of  a  perfect  sym- 
pathy and  a  real  afi'ec- 
tion,  and  has  many 
touching  things  to  say 
of  the  kindliness  and 
courage  of  the  alley 
dwellers.  A  sort  of  forced 
optimism,  if  I  may  so 
call  it,  seems  to  colour 
the  outlook  both  of  the 
author  and  of  tho  writer 
of  the  preface.  I  think 
it  must  be  a  protective 
device  assumed  against 
despair  in  the  discourag- 
ing work  to  which  both 
havo  set  their  hands. 
For  on  the  evidence  here 
set  forth  there  is  but  too  little  cause  for  optimism.  Bather, 
a  vision  of  illimitable  expense  of  spirit  in  a  waste  of  squalor 
too  horrible  for  anything  but  anger  or  tears.  Not  all  the 
humour  in  the  world  cau  really  lighten  the  picture,  but  it 
is  splendid  to  see  so  brave  an  attempt  to  do  so. 

Miss  ETHEL  SIDGWICK  entitles  her  new  novel,  Succession 
(SiDGWiCK  AND  JACKSON),  a  "  biographical  fragment,"  and 
as  this  "  fragment "  consists  of  nearly  six  hundred  very 
closely  printed  pages  her  ideas  of  a  novel  of  proper  length 
must  be  Chinese.  Here,  in  this  sequel  to  Promise,  she 
displays  a  fine  and  most  excellent  courage,  but  she  also 
demands  courage  of  her  reader.  Her  method  of  explana- 
tion and  illustration  reveals  itself  as  the  most  accurate 
report  of  what  is,  to  the  innocent  reader,  unimportant  dia- 


unclos,  aunts,  cousins,  ultimately  (and  most  happily)  fathers 
— rush  at  him,  scream  at  him,  pinch  him,  kiss  him,  dress 
him,  undress  him,  applaud  him,  abuse  him.  From  the 
tumult  emerges  at  last  the  consciousness  that  Antoinc  is 
ill;  tho  babel  is  silenced;  for  the  sake  of  his  health  he  is 
conveyed  to  bracing  wildernesses,  and  tho  six  hundred  pages 
are  at  an  end.  Then,  if  the  reader  has  had  the  courage 
demanded  of  him,  incidents  and  figures  do  emerge.  A  grand- 
father, a  composer,  a  doctor — all,  for  their  very  haphazard 
appearances,  amazingly  lifelike.  But  the  virtues  of  Miss 
SIDGWICK'S  method  are  to  be  best  observed  in  retrospect. 

The  Lauren-sons  (CONSTABLE)  loaves  me  unenvious  of  the 
girl  who  is  adopted  into  a  largo  family  of  distant  and  malo 
cousins,  for  apparently  she  will  want  to  marry  two  or  three 
of  them,  and  tho  same  number  will  want  to  marry  her,  and 
tho  end  will  be  confusion.  Alice,  of  course,  put  her  money 
on  tho  wrong  Laurcnson  (Clira  by  name),  not  knowing  that 
he  had  a  natural  gift  for  bolting.  He  loft  her  on  the  very 
day  of  the  wedding,  and  the  main  interest  of  the  story  lies 

in  the  fact  that  his  flight 
led  him  to  a  Jesuit  esta- 
blishment. This  place, 
wo  are  told,  is  "  not 
drawn  from  any  com- 
munity in  the  United 
Kingdom,"  a  statement 
I  find  no  difficulty  in 
believing.  Olive's  trick 
of  bolting  was  not,  how- 
ever, to  be  cured  by  the 
Jesuits,  for  even  after  he 
had  taken  his  vows  he 
once  more  took  to  his 
heels.  It  was  this  second 
bolt  rather  than  the  first 
that  made  me  very  sorry 
for  Alice,  for  in  the  in- 
terval she  had  divorced 
him,  and  when  he  turned 
up  again  was  comfortably 
married  to  his  brother. 
Having  saved  Clirc  from 
the  Jesuits,  Mr.  E.  K.  WEEKES  is  content  to  leave  him; 
but  I  think  that  ho  should  (for  Alice's  sake)  have  seen 
him  through  just  one  more  bolt.  The  book  is  very  well 
written  and  can  be  recommended  to  those  who  are  not  likely 
to  find  offence  in  its  religious  point  of  view. 


A  TEST  FOE  NUTS. 


It  is  a  curious  thing  that  when  publishers  print  on  the 
paper  wrapper  of  a  novel  a  little  paragraph  summarising 
its  contents  they  should  so  often  draw  attention  to  features 
which  on  investigation  prove  not  very  attractive,  and  say 
nothing  about  those  which  are.  Thus  it  is  claimed  for  Miss 
JEAN  WEBSTER'S  Daddy  Long-Legs  that  it  has  a  "  dramatic 
and  altogether  unexpected "  ending,  and  I  can  only  say 
that  if  Messrs.  HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON  did  not  foresee  tho 
finish  half-way  through  they  can't  be  nearly  as  intelligent 


logue,  and  this  dialogue  throughout  the  six  hundred  pages  as  I  am.  No  hint  is  given  of  the  really  good  part  of  the 
flows  about  the  small  person  of  Antoino  Edgell,  musical  j  book.  Fortunately  for  me,  my  interest  did  not  depend  on 
genius,  sometimes  engulfs  him  altogether,  sometimes  recedes,  any  attempt  at  mystification,  but  on  the  intimate  description 
leaving  him  high  and  dry  and  pitifully  scared.  To  the  of  an  American  girls'  college.  I  fancy  that  a  good  many 
reader  it  is  as  though  Miss  SIDGWICK  had  suddenly  opened! of  us  know  very  little  about  this  quite  attractive  phase  of 


a  door  upon  an  exceedingly  noisy  family  of  mixed  nation- 
ality. There  the  family  are — bewildering,  hasty,  irritable, 
real  as  anything,  but  needing  most  certainly  some  sort  of 
explanatory  footnotes.  But  footnotes  are  not  for  Miss 
SIDGWICK.  Antoine  is  a  genius  whose  physical  strength 
gives  way  again  and  again,  whilst  the  family — grandfathers, 


American  life,  and  I  am  sure  that  Miss  WEBSTER'S  charming 
picture  of  it  would  havo  gained  more  admirers  if  the  para- 
graph on  the  cover  had  said  something  about  it.  I  can 
only  hope  that  Miss  WEBSTER  has  plenty  of  readers  who 
know  her  too  well  to  be  dependent  on  information  conveyed 
by  a  wrapper. 


MAY  28.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


113 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  Budget  Committee  of  the  French 


fracas  at  the  Garrick  theatre  had  hocn 
continued,  tlio  rivals,  by  agreeing  to 
share  the  cinematograph  rights  in  these 


Parliament  has  decided  that  no  Casino  i  struggles,   would  probably  have  made 
where  gambling  is  carried  on  shall  be   more  money  than  by  the  production  of 
allowed  within   sixty   miles   of  Paris.   Baron  HKNHI  DK  ROTHSCHILD'S  play. 
\Vo  are  glad  to  know   that 
the  inhabitants  of   this   old 
Puritan  stronghold  are  to  be 
guarded  from  temptation. 

Berlin  is  to  have  a  fine 
new  golf  course.  This  is  good 
news,  for  it  is  hoped  that  in 
course  of  time  the  Germans 
will  follow  our  example  by 
paying  more  attention  to  golf 
than  to  national  defence,  and 
then  we  shall  not  be  so  un- 
fairly handicapped. 

:|:     * 

Lord  ROSEBERY  points  out 
that  the  local  authorities  dis- 
claim ownership  of  the  Roman 
Eoad  "near  Epsom  ;  arid  the 
Italian  Government,  we  hear, 
is  being  urged  by  expansion- 
ists at  Rome  to  put  in  a  claim 
for  the  thoroughfare. 

X'  ^i 

In  consequence  of  com- 
plaints by  Suffragettes  certain 
prison  vans  will  in  future  be 
labelled  "  Ladies  Only." 

Among  the  recent  exploits 
of  the  Suffragettes  was  a  visit 
at  night  to  the  Eoyal  Asylum 
at  Aberdeen,  where,  we  un- 
derstand, many  sympathisers 
with  the  militant  movement 
are  staying. 

*  _  * 

Mayor  GAYNOR  of  New 
York  declares  that  marriage 
is  t  lie  only  cure  for  the  English 
malignant  Suffragettes.  We 
fear,  however,  that  in  these 
decadent  days  our  men  lack  j 
the  necessary  pluck  to  give 
the  suggested  remedy  a  trial.  , 

Mr.  EAYMOND  EOZE  is  to  ! 
give  us  a  season  of  grand 
opera  in  English  at  Covent 
Garden  in  November.  If 
there's  anything  in  a  name, 
here  is  the  chance  of  a  life- 
time for  our  humorists. 


know,  and  it  will  take  a  lot  of  beating. 
I  want  to  see  everything  in  this  city  so 
I  '11  bo  able  to  compare  it  with  San 
Francisco."  We  are  glad  to  have  this 
frank  warning  that  wo  are  on  our  trial. 


THERE    is    BOUND   TO    BE  A  REACTION  AGAINST  THE   nusu   AND 

EXCITEMENT  OP  THIS   AGE.      AFTEB  MOTOB  POLO — 


WE  MAY  EXPECT  BATH-ClIXIB  CROQUET. 


Miss  SHIRLEY  KELLOG,  of  the  Hippo- 
drome, will,  it  is  announced,  be  "  married 
quietly  "  to  Mr.  ALBERT  DE  COURVILLE, 
on  the  31st  inst.  Dare  we  understand 
this  to  mean  that  the  marriage  service 
will  not  be  enlivened  by  any  rag-time 
music  ?  ...  .,. 

It  is  estimated  that    if   the  alleged 


Mr.  CHARLES  GULLIVER  secured  last 
week  for  the  Palladium  not  only  LITTLE 
TICK,  but  also  the  Columbia  Park  Boy 
Scouts.  Gulliver's  fondness  for  the 
Lilliputians  is  of  course  well  known. 

'  * ' 

By  the  way,  one  of  the  little  American 
visitors,  interviewed  by  a  representative 
of  The  Daily  Mail,  said,  "  Of  course, 
San  Francisco  is  a  very  great  city,  you 


The  failure  of  a  member  of 
the  French  company  playing 
in  the  revue  J' Adore  (ja  to 
turn  up  one  day  last  week, 
caused  the  production  to  be 
delayed  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.  French  revues  must  be 
very  different  to  English  ones 
if  the  omission  of  any  part 
interferes  at  all  with  the 
intelligibility  of  the  plot. 

"*  * ' 

Reuter  tells  us  that  when 
Mr.  ASQUITH  landed  at  Corfu 
he  had  a  great  reception  from 
the  inhabitants,  and  "  ac- 
knowledged their  welcome  by 
saluting."  This  show  of 
militarism  on  the  part  of  the 
PRIME  MINISTER  is  resented 
by  many  of  his  supporters. 

With  reference  to  the  cor- 
respondence in  a  contempo- 
rary as  to  "  Exorbitant  Dock 
Charges,"  a  gentleman  writes 
to  us  from  an  address  in  the 
New  Cut  to  say  that,  although 
he  was  only  in  the  dock  for  a 
few  minutes  the  other  day,  he 
had  to  pay  no  less  than  five 
pounds  for  the  privilege. 

*  ^  =:: 

A  well  -  dressed  baby  was 
found  late  one  night  last  week 
in  the  forecourt  of  a  house  in 
Parsons  Hill,  Woolwich.  He 
is  supposed  to  have  been 
brought  out  by  a  burglar  for 
training  purposes  and  to  have 
been  forgotten  in  a  hurried 

departure.      ...  ,.. 

* 

Not  only  was  there  an  acci- 
dent at  a  launch  at  Liverpool 
last  week,  but  there  was  also, 
we  hope,  an  accident  in  The 
Liverpool  Echo's  account  of 
it.  Says  our  contemporary : — 
"  As  the  vessel  was  gliding  into 
the  river  the  Lady  Mayoress  met 
with  a  slight  accident,  parts  of  the 

battle  broken  on  the  craft  flying 

back  and  striking  her  hand,  cutting  one  of  her 
finger). 

Congratulatory  speeches  followed  at  the 
luncheon."  ,,,  % 

& 

From  June  1st  to  September  30th, 
farmers  will  be  able  to  obtain  daily  fore- 
casts of  the  weather  from  the  Meteoro- 
logical Office.  It  is  significant  as  to  the 
sort  of  weatherexpected  that  the  requisite 
fees  will  have  to  be  paid  in  advance. 


VOL.    CXI.IV. 


414 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  28,  1913. 


MR.  PUNCH'S   DIDACTIC   NOVELS. 

(The  First,  and  probably  the  Last.) 

[In  humble  imitation  of  Mr.  EUSTACE 
MII.KS'S  serial  in  Jfi-tltluranl  Ho!  (Hulp!), 
and  in  furtherance  o£  tho  great  principle  of 
self-culture.] 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  GORDON  SQUARE. 

SYNOPSIS  OF  PREVIOUS  CHAPTERS. 

EOGEB  DANGEKFIELD,  the  famous 
barrister,  is  passing  through  Gordon 
Square  one  December  night  when  lie 
suddenly  comes  across  the  dead  body 
of  a  man  of  about  forty  years.  To  his 
horror  he  recognises  it  to  be  that  of  his 
friend,  Sir  Eustace  Butt,  M.P.,  who 
lias  bean  stabbed  in  seven  places.  Much 
perturbed  by  the  incident,  Roger  goes 
home  and  decides  to  lead  a  new  life. 
Hitherto  he  had  been  notorious  in  the 
London  clubs  for  his  luxurious  habits, 
but  now  he'rises  at  7.30  every  morning 
and  breathes  evenly  through  the  nose 
for  five  minutes  before  dressing. 

After  three  weeks  of  the  breathing 
exercise,  Roger  adds  a  few  simple 
lunges  to  his  morning  drill.  Detective- 
Inspector  Frenchard  tells,  him  that  he 
has  a  clue  to  the  death  of  Sir  Eustace, 
but  that  the  murderer  is  still  at  large. 
Roger  sells  his  London  house  and 
takes  a  cottage  in  the  country,  where 
he  practises  the  simple  life.  He  is 
now  lunging  ten  times  to  the  right,  ten 
times  fo  the'  left  and  ten  times  back- 
wards every  morning,  besides  breathing 
lightly  through  the  nose  during  his 
bath. 

One  day  he  meets  a  Yogi,  who  tells 
him  that  if  he  desires  to  track  the 
murderer  down  he  must  learn  concentra- 
tion. He  suggests  that  Roger  should 
start  by  concentrating  on  the  word 
"  wardrobe,"  and  then  leaves  this  story 
and  goes  back  to  India.  Roger  sells 
his  house  in  the  country  and  comes 
back  to  town,  where  he  concentrates 
for  half-an-hour  daily  on  the  word 
"wardrobe";  besides,  of.  course,  perse- 
vering^ with  his  breathing  and  lunging 
exercises.  After  a  heavy  morning's 
drill  he  is  passing  through  Gordon 
Square  when  he  comes  across  the  body 
of  bis  old  friend,  Sir  Joshua  Tubbs, 
M.P.,  who  has  been  stabbed  nine  times. 
Roger  returns  home  quickly,  and  de- 
cides to  practise  breathing  through  the 
ears. 

CHAPTER  XCI. 

Preparation, 

The  appalling  death  of  Sir  Joshua 
Tubbs,  M.P.,  following  so  closely  upon 
that  of  Sir  Eustace  Butt,  M.P.,  meant 
the  beginning  of  a  new  life  for  Roger. 
His  morning  drill  now  took  the  follow- 
ing form : — 

On  rising  at  7.30  A.M.  he  sipped  a 
glass  of  distilled  water,  at  the  same 


time  concentrating  on  the  word  "  ward- 
robe." This  lasted  for  ten  minutes, 
after  which  he  stood  before  the  open 
window  for  five  minutes,  breathing 
alternately  through  tho  right  ear  and 
the  left.  A  vigorous  series  of  lunges 
followed,  together  with  the  simple 
kicking  exercises  detailed  in  Chapter 
LIV. 

These  over,  there  was  a  brief  interval 
of  rest,  during  which  our  hero,  breathing 
heavily  through  the  back  of  his  neck, 
concentrated  on  the  word  "dough-nut." 
Refreshed  by  the  mental  discipline, 
he  rose  and  stood  lightly  on  the  ball  of 
his  left  foot,  at  the  same  time  massag- 
ing himself  vigorously  between  the 
shoulders  with  his  right.  After  five 
minutes  of  this  he  would  rest  again, 
lying  motionless  except  for  a  circular 
movement  of  the  ears.  A  cold  bath,  a 
brisk  rub  down  and  another  glass  of 
distilled  water,  completed  the  morning 
training. 

But  it  is  time  we  got  on  with  the 
story.  The  murder  of  Sir  Joshua  Tubbs, 
M.P.,  had  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through 
England,  and  hundreds  of  people  wrote 
indignant  letters  to  the  Press,  blaming 
the  police  for  their  neglect  to  discover 
the  assassin.  Detective  -  Inspector 
Frenchard,  however,  was  hard  at  work, 
and  he  was  inspired  by  the  knowledge 
that,  he  could  always  rely  upon  the 
assistance  of  Roger  Dangerfield,  the 
famous  barrister,  who  had  sworn  to 
track  the  murderer  down., 

To  prepare  himself  for  the  forth- 
coming struggle  Roger  decided,  one 
sunny  day  in  June,  to  give  up  the  meat 
diet  upon  which  he  had  relied  so  long, 
and  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  a 
vegetable  regime.  With  that  thorough- 
ness which  was  now  becoming  a 
characteristic  of  him,  he  left  London 
and  returned  to  the  country,  with  the 
intention  of  making  a  study  of  food 
values. 

CHAPTER  XCII. 
Love  Comes  In. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day  in  July,  and 
the.  country  was  looking  its  best. 
Roger  rose  at  7.30  A.M.  and  performed 
those  gentle,  health-giving  exercises 
which  have  already  been  described  in 
previous  chapters.  On  this  glorious 
morning,  however,  he  added  a  simple 
exercise  for  the  elbows  to  his  customary 
ones,  and  went  down  to  his  breakfast 
as  hungry  as  the  proverbial  hunter.  A 
substantial  meal  of  five  dried  beans 
and  a  stewed  nut  awaited  him  in  the 
fine  oak-panelled  library ;  and,  as  he 
did  ample  justice  to  the  banquet,  his 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  terrible  days 
when  he  lived  the  luxurious  meat-eating 
life  of  the  ordinary  man-about-town  ;  to 
the  evening  when  lie  discovered  the 


body  of  Sir  Eustace  Butt,  M.P.,  and 
swore  to  bring  the  assassin  to  ven- 
geance; to  the  day  when • 

Suddenly  he  realised  that  his  thoughts 
were  wandering.  With  iron  \vill  he 
controlled  them  and  concentrated  fixedly 
on  the  word  "  dough-nut "  for  twelve 
minutes.  Greatly  refreshed  he  rose 
and  strode  out  into  the  sun. 

At  the  door  of  his  cottage  a  girl  was 
standing.  She  was  extremely  beautiful, 
and  Roger's  heart  would  have  jumped 
if  he  had  not  had  that  organ  (thanks  to 
Twisting  Exercise  23)  under  perfect 
control. 

"Is  this  the  way  to  Denfield?"  she 
asked. 

"  Straight  on,"  said  Roger. 

He  returned  to  his  cottage,  breathing 
heavily  through  his  ears. 

CHAPTER  XCIII. 

Another  Sunrise. 

Six  months  went  by,  and  tho  mur- 
derer of  Sir  Joshua  Tubbs,  M.P.,  and  Sir 
Eustace  Butt,  M.P.,  still  remained  at 
large.  Roger  had  sold  his  cottage  in 
the  country  and  was  now  in  London, 
performing  his  exercises  with  regularity, 
concentrating  daily  upon  the  words 
"wardrobe,"  "dough-nut,"  and  "wasp," 
and  living  entirely  upon  proteids. 

One  day  ha  had  the  idea  that  he 
would  s!art  a  restaurant  in  the  East- 
End  for  the  sale  of  meatless  foods. 
This  would  bring  him  in  touch  with 
tho  lower  classes,  among  whom  he 
expected  to  find  the  assassin  of  his  two 
oldest  friends. 

In  less  than  a  year  the  shop  was  a 
tremendous  success.  In  spite  of  this, 
however,1  Roger  did  not  neglect  his 
exercises;  takingpartjcularcare  to  keep 
the  toes  well  turned  in  when  lunging 
ten  times  backwards.  (Exercise  17.) 
Once,  to  his  joy,  the  girl  whom  he  had 
first  met  outside  his  country  cottage 
came  in  and  had  her  simple  lunch  of 
Smilopat  (ninepence.  the  dab)  at  his 
shop.  That  evening  he  lunged  twelve 
times  to  the  right  instead  of  ten. 

One  day  business  had  taken  Roger 
to  the  West-End.  As  he  was  returning 
home  at  midnight  through  Gordon 
Square,  he  suddenly  stopped  and  stag- 
gered back. 

A  body  lay  on  the  ground  before  him! 

Hastily  turning  it  over  upon  its  face, 
Roger  gave  a  cry  of  horror. 

It  was  Detective-Inspector  French- 
ard !  Stabbed  in  eleven  places ! 

Roger  hurried  madly  home,  and  de- 
vised an  entirely  new  set  of  exercises 
for  his  morning  drill.  A  full  description 
of  these,  however,  must  be  reserved  for 
another  chapter. 

(To  be  continued — elsewhere.) 

A.  A.  M. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAY   28,   1913. 


THE     'BUNNY    HUG." 

MODERN  YOUTH  (to  Terpsichore).  "  MY    HUG,    I    THINK." 
MB.  PUNCH.  "  MY    KICK,    I    KNOW ! " 


MAY  28.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHART VA III 


417 


b 


PoES    THE    L-AfNULOR.0    K.NOW? 


WILL  HE  POST  THE  LETTER.'? 


DESI3NS    FOR    PROBLEM    PICTURES. 


THIS  YEAR'S  ACADEMY  is  BATHER  DISAPPOINTING!  nt  THE  MATTEB  OP  PROBLEM  PICTUEES,  A  FEATCBJS  WHICH  THE  PUBLIC  EAGEHLIC 
EXPK.CTS. 

MR.  PUffCH  GIVES  A  FEW  SUGGESTIONS  TO  ARTISTS  WHO  MAY  BE  CASTING  ABOUT  FOB  SUBJECTS  FOB  NEXT  YEAB,  AND  HOPES  THAT 
THEY  MAY  HAVE  THE  EFFECT  OF  BRIGHTENING  BURLINGTON  HoUSF.. 


"0  YOU   MORTAL  ENGINES." 
[The  Uorough  of  Louth  (Lincolnshire)  has  mislaid  its  firo-ongine.] 

Ho,  Town  and  County  Councils,  come  listen  to  my  lay ; 
You  don't  get  such  a  tale  as  this  (with  moral)  every  day. 
I  show  how,  when  executives  once  close  the  watchful  eye, 
Municipal  appliances  may  spread  their  wings  and  fly. 

Louth  is  an  ancient  borough  in  Lincoln's  homely  shire, 

And  Louth  possessed  an  engine  for  subjugating  fire 

(A  little  thing,  hut  still  their  own).    Where  is  that  engine 

now  ? 
Well,  to  be  brief,  it  disappeared,  and  Louth  is  asking 

"How?" 

The  search  was  systematic  (the  Surveyor  saw  to  that) : 

Each  burgess  turned  his  pockets  out  and  shook  his  front- 
door mat ; 

Each  tweeny  raked  her  ashbin,  her  box  each  maid  un- 
packed ; 

But  still  the  mystory  was  there,  the  m  t  was  still  uncracked. 


They  dragged  the  little  river  which  sparkles  through  the  town ; 
They  pulled  the  lowest  drain-pipes  up,  the  tallest  chimneys 

down  ; 

But  high  or  low  they  never  found  that  enemy  to  flame 
Bought  fifty  years  ago  to  fight  the  fire  that  never  came. 

Men  say  that,  when  the  Council  met,  strange  scenes  were 

acted  there : 
The  Mayor  he  searched  the  learned  Clerk,  the  Clerk  he 

stripped  the  Mayor ; 

The  Aldermen,  the  Councillors  expectant  stood  around, 
But  not  on  either  officer  the  missing  toy  was  found. 

They  ordered  a  Committee,  the  Committee  of  Estates, 
To  trace  the  peccant  runaway,  and  there  the  matter  waits. 
And  every  decent  citizen,  east,  west  and  north  and  south, 
Will  pray  that  in  the  interim  no  firo  may  visit  Louth. 


The  New  St.  George. 
"  Wanted,  Young  Han  for  Orra  Beast." 

jidvt.  in  "  Aberdeen  Er filing  Express." 


418 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


28,  1913. 


UNREST  IN  THE  CRICKET 
FIELD. 


short-slip  if   1   had   been  left-handed) 
had  not  interposed  his   knee.     For  a 
moment  it  looked  as  though  the  peculiar 
TIIK  prevailing  spirit   of   unrest  in  |  arrangement  of  the  field  had  lost  me 
cricketing  circles  bids  fair  to  be  exas- 1  four  runs.     It  was  all  right,  however, 
perated  by  the  new  controversy  as  to  j  as  we  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  run 

' n  '  four  whilst  the  fielders  were  trying  to 


whether  the  left-hand  batsman  should 
be  barred.  Personally  I  am  against  all 
this  barring  business.  Once  we  start 
barring  things  in  cricket  we  shall  never 
know  whether  we  are  playing  under  the 
"  Marquess  of  Queensberry "  or  the 


find  out  if  the  man's  leg  was  broken. 
When  they  got  him  into  the  pavilion 
the  doctor  confirmed  my  view  that  there 
was  nothing  quite  broken  and  that  the 
man  was  making  an  unnecessary  fuss. 


Billiard   Control"  rules.     And  what '  The  Wopplestone  people  seemed  to  think 


about  the  ambidextrous  man '? 

If  the  Wopplestone  Wanderers  had 
been  certain  whether  I  was 
left-handed  or  right-handed 
the  annual  contest  between 
that  club  and  Murkytown 
might  not  have  .been  dis- 
continued. I  do  not  believe 
that  all  the  unpleasantness 
was  due  to  my  idea'  of 
bowling  fast  "  full:  tosses  " 
at  the  top  of  the  stumps. 

I  captained  the  Murky- 
town  team.  I  had  been 
trying  my  full  toss  theory 
at  the  nets.  Our  regular 
Captain  was  batting  at  the 
moment  and  did  not  recover 
in  time  for  the  Wopplestone 
match.  I  won  the  toss  and 
exercised  a  captain's  privi- 
lege of  going  in  first. 

I  never  stated  that  I  was 
a  left-handed  batsman.  If, 
because  I  took  guard  like 
a  left  -  handed  batsman, 
the  Wopplestone  Captain 
jumped  to.  the:  conclusion 
that  I  was  going  to  bat 
left-handed  and  placed  his 
field  accordingly,  I  cannot 
see  that  I  was  to  blame. 
There  is  no  rule  as  to  how 
a  batsman  must  take  guard. 
I  need  not  have  taken 
guard  at  all.  Nor,  so  'far  as 


that  I  had  done  it  on  purpose,  though 
I  explained  that  I  had  no  idea  that  he 


that   his 


A   FIGURE   OF   SPEECH. 
COME  ON,  SAM  ;    WE  'BE  GOING  'OME.     DRAW  STUMPS. 


I  am  aware,  is  there  any  rule  that  an 
ambidextrous  man  must  declare  whether 
he  will  bat  left-handed  or  right-handed. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  I  am  really  right- 
handed,  but  no  bigot  on  the  matter. 
I  can  both  bat  and  bowl  fairly  well 
left-handed. 

The  Wopplestone  slow  bowler  started 
trundling  to  me.  I  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  know  that  my  turning  round 
just  as  he  reached  the  wicket  would  put 
him  off.  I  do  not  believe  that  it  was  my 
action  that  caused  him  to  bowl  a  slow 
full  pitch.  I  daresay  that  I  should 
have  hit  it  just  as  hard  as  I  did  if  I  had 
played  it  left-handed.  It  is  true  that 
in  that  case  it  would  have  been  to  the 
off  instead  of  to  leg.  The. ball  would 
easily  have  gone  to  the  boundary 
if  short-fine-leg  (he  would  have  been 


I  need  not  describe  our  innings  in 
detail.  Their  slow  bowler  never  found 
his  length,  if  he  ever  had  one,  and  the 
fast  bowler  refused  to  get  off  the 
pavilion  table.  The  change  bowlers 
were  not  on  the  day  worthy  of  the 
name  of  howlers.  The  whole  side 
seemed  upset.  Brockletops  and  I  did 
pretty  well  what  we  liked. 

When  we  had  made  215  for  3  wickets 
I  declared  the  innings  closed.  Brockle- 
tops had  the  satisfaction  of  being  not 
out.  Whatever  Brockletops  says,  I 
am  ready  to  swear  that  I  did  not  know 
score  was  then  exactly  99. 
Anyhow,  I  disapprove  of 
making  a  fetish  of  centuries. 
Ninety-nine  runs  are  very 
nearly  as  useful  as  a 
hundred.  Even  if  another 
run  would  have  entitled 
Brockletops  to  receive  a 
bat  I  think  that  club 
cricket  should  be  played  in 
a  strictly  amateur  spirit. 

Although  I  am  in  favour 
of  reasonable  reforms  I  am 
not  so  self-opinionated  as 
to  depart  unnecessarily 
from  ancient  tradition.  I 
accordingly  again  exercised 
the  prerogative  of  my  office 
and  started  the  bowling.  I 
exploited  my  full  toss 
theory.  I  do  not  think 
that  I  was  in  any  way  to 
blame  because  the  first  ball 
did  not  swerve  in  the  air 
quite  so  much  as  I  expected 
it  to  do.  Anyway  I  was 
not  responsible  for  the  fact 
that  the  first  batsmen  was 
a  short  fat  man,  nor 
that  he  presented  the  full 
breadth  of  his  anatomy 
to  the  ball.  All  said  and 
done,  it  only  hit  him  in  the 
wind.  In  the  most  sports- 
man-like manner  I  offered 


was  their  champion  fast  bowler.    I  also  ]  to  allow  him  to  continue  his  innings 


pointed  out  what  a  silly  thing  it  was  to 
put  a  man  in  such  a  position  if  they 
wanted  to  use  him  for  anything  else, 
especially  if  the  other  man  was  going 
to  bowl  slow  full  tosses  to  leg. 

After  that  they  wanted  me  to  declare 
whether  I  would  bat  right-handed  or 
left-handed.  I  naturally  refused.  As 
they  pressed  the  matter  I  eventually 
'Said  that  I  expected  mostly  to  bat  right- 
handed  but  declined  to  bind  myself. 
Just  to  show  that  I  was  not  bigoted,  I 
played  the  next  ball  left-handed.  The 
bowler  was  still  uncertain  of  his  length 
and  a  slow  long  hop  only  just  missed 
short-square-leg's  head  on  its  way  to 
the  boundary  (he  •  would  have  been 
point  had  I  been  batting  right- 
handed,  as  they  soemed  to  expect). 


later  on,  when  he  was  feeling  better; 
but  he  decided  to  go  on  feeling  ill. 

It  was  entirely  the  next  man's  own 
fault  that  my  first  ball  hit  him  behind 
the  ear.  There  was  absolutely  no 
necessity  for  him  to  have  ducked  his 
head.  I  am  given  to  understand  that 
about  three  days  afterwards,  when  he 
learnt  for  the  first  time  that  he  had  been 
given  out  l.b.w.,  he  had  a  relapse.  I 
still  think  that  our  umpire's  decision 
on  the  subject  was  correct. 

If  the  wicket-keeper  had  taken  the 
next  ball  in  his  hands  instead  of  on  his 
instep,  I  should  have  accomplished 
what  would  have  been  a  moral  hat 
trick.  Not  content  with  missing  what 
was,  after  all,  a  fairly  simple  catch,  and 
so  spoiling  my  bowling  analysis,  he 


MAY  28,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


419 


insisted  on  going  into  the  pavilion  to 
batlio  his  foot.  Consequently  I  was 
put  to  all  tho  bother  of  finding  some- 
one else  to  take  his  place. 

I  soon  got  rid  of  the  man  who  had 

missed.     I  slipped  in  attempting 

to  bowl  an  extra  fast  one,  and  the  bats- 

nuui  was  completely  deceived  by  the 

ball  unexpectedly  bouncing. 

Tho  next  man  was  silly  enough  to  come 
in  without  batting-gloves.  Tliefirst  time 
that  I  hit  him  on  the  fingers  settled  him. 
If  a  man  has  not  got  more  sense  than 
that  he  ought  not  to  play  cricket. 

The  Captain  then  came  in.  This 
fellow,  besides  being  no  sportsman,  was 
a  coward.  He  stood  about  a  yard  from 
the  wicket  and  made  stupid  chops  at 
the  ball.  He  was  lucky  enough  by  this 
unorthodox  method  to  deflect  the  ball 
several  times  through  the  slips. 

We  might  have  had  quite  a  difficulty 
in  getting  rid  of  him  if  I  had  not  had 
the  resource  suddenly  to  bowl  the  ball 
with  my  left  hand.  It  was  not  a  very 
good  ball,  but  tho  man  who  said  that 
it  bounced  five  times  was  guilty  of 
exaggeration.  The  batsman  only  made 
a  feeble  attempt  to  play  it  and  was 
bowled.  He  was  inclined  to  be  un- 
pleasant about  it,  but  could  produce  no 
rule  against  the  bowler's  delivering  the 
ball  with  either  hand  without  warning. 
I  still  maintain  that  he  had  not  even  a 
moral  grievance.  He  might,  it  is  true, 
have  insisted  on  taking  fresh  guard, 
but  an  inch  or  two  one  way  or  the 
other  can  make  no  difference  to  a  man 
who  adopts  a  stance  about  a  yard  from 
tho  wicket.  He  could  not  follow  this 
argument,  though  I  spent  some  time 
explaining  it  to  him  with  diagrams. 

After  the  defeat  of  their  Captain  the 
rest  of  the  team  seemed  to  lose  heart. 
As  no  one  else  came  out  to  bat,  we 
allowed  a  good  two  minutes  a  man 
before  putting  the  wicket  down.  I 
think  that  the  rest  of  the  side  were 
rightly  entered  in  the  score  book  "  run 
out,"  except,  perhaps,  the  man  who 
could  not  get  off  the  pavilion  table. 
"  Absent,  hurt"  would  no  doubt  be  the 
technical  description  in  his  case.  The 
effect,  anyway,  was  the  same,  as  I 
suppose  that,  strictly  speaking,  I  could 
not  count  them  in  my  analysis.  It  was 
absurd  that  in  the  circumstances  I  was 
only  credited  with  three  wickets.  It 
was  an  easy  win,  and  personally  I 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the  game. 

Wo  understand  (from  his  Master  of  the 
Robes)  that  Sir  GEOBGE  ALEXANDER 
hopes  to  improve  upon  Mr.  ARTHUR 
BOUKCHIKU'S  appearance  in  Crccsus,  and 
has  commissioned  from  the  house  of 
EOTHSCIIILD  a  play  for  which  he  has 
himself  suggested  a  title  :  The  Trouser- 
Crcesus. 


INFORMATION. 

"Si.  GEORGE'S  'OspiiAt, — VU.L  ZE  TRAM  TAKE  ME?" 

"  NO ;     BUT  THE   AMBULANCE  WILL  IF  TOO   DON1!   *OP  OFF  TIIE   LINE  I  " 


THE  CEEMATION  OF  THE 
WHITE  ELEPHANT. 

I  FOUND  the  Trevors  in  the  highest 
spirits.  They  were  never  a  very  de- 
spondent family,  but  this  afternoon 
they  bubbled. 

There  were  so  many  persons  present 
and  the  conversation  was  so  excited  and 
general  that  my  entrance  was  effected 
without  attracting  any  notice,  and  1 
sank  into  a  chair  and  waited  till  some 
one  should  see  me  and  provide  a  cup  of 
tea. 

Meanwhile  scraps  of  talk  came  my 
way. 

I  heard  Mrs.  Trevor  say,  in  her  shrill 
voice,  "  It  was  costing  us  a  clear  four 
hundred  a  year.  We  couldn't  let  it 
anyhow,  and  we  couldn't  afford  to  live 
there." 

"  No,"  said  Muriel  in  her  decisive 
tones ;  "  no  one  was  hurt." 


"Father  is  going  to  send  a  present 
to  the  brigade,  of  course,"  said  Delia, 
"  but  beyond  that  it  won't  cost  us 
anything." 

"  Insured  right  enough,  I  should  think 
so !  "  said  Eustace.  "  Six  thousand  of 
the  very  best." 

"  And  we  're  all  going  to  Italy  as  a 
reward,"  cried  Madge.  "Just  think: 
Venice,  Florence,  Assisi !  " 

"  Yes,  my  love,"  bayed  Mr.  Trevor, 
who  speaks  from  his  very  sole,  "it 
almost  makes  one  inclined  to  give  'em 
the  vote.  Only  of  course  that  wouldn't 
be  logical.  But  gratitude,  you  know. . . ." 

It  was  then  that  I  was  at  last  per- 
ceived and  drawn  into  the  circle. 

"Oh,  what  do  you  think?"  said 
Madge,  seizing  my  arm.  "  We  've  had 
such  a  bit  of  luck.  The  Suffragettes 
have  burned  down  that  dreadful 
country  place  of  father's  ia  Shropshire. 
Isn't  it  splendid  ?  " 


420 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  28,  1913. 


MORE    ACADEMY    ENCOURAGE- 
MENTS. 
(Being  a  composite  plagiarism  of  some 

of  "  Mr.  Punch's  "  contemporaries.) 

A  FURTHER  visit  to  the  Academy 
discovers  a  few  works  of  merit  that 
escaped  our  first  notice.  Amidst  the 
clash  of  simpering  portraiture,  jejune 
"story-tellers,"  and  trivial  idylls  of 
moor  and  sea,  the  jaded  eyesight  finds 
rest  and  peace  in  Mr.  John  Sturdue's 
study  of  still  life,  The  0.3  taking  in  Milk 
Cans  at  Bedhill,  or  the  same  artist's 
breezy,  yet  restrained,  treatment  of 
perspective  in  The  Tube  near  Dover 
Street — a  delicate  landscape  that  has 
been  carelessly  hung  next  to  Mr. 
Harris  Weimber's  somewhat  fantastic 
Ichthyosauria  coming  down  to  water: 
South  Harrow,  purchased,  we  under- 
stand, by  the  District  Railway  as  a 
companion  to  their  well-known  posters 
of  the  unexplored  regions  to  which  they 
invite  the  tourist. 

Despite  a  topicality  better  suited  to 
the  cinema  than  Burlington  House, 
Mr.  Lionel  Fraber's  Tioo  on  a  Tower, 
depicting  a  recent  affair  at  the  Monu- 
ment, has  qualities  that  deserve  a  more 
permanent  theme.  Mr.  Fraber  has 
indeed  approached  his  subject  witli  a 
robustness  that  makes  one  almost  glad 
that  no  other  sense  but  vision  is  needed 
for  the  interpretation  of  this  joy  day 
of  Femininity.  Another  "  Suffragette  " 
picture,  wherein  the  morale  of  this  cause 
is  strongly  portrayed,  is  Mr.  Frank  II. 
Burnish's  The  Militant's  Home.  The 
sternest  opponent  of  the  wider  utility 
of  women  will  feel  some  twinges  of 
conscience  before  this  grim  interior, 
with  the  unwashed  crockery  and  un- 
kempt children.  The  despair  of  the 
husband  is  however  sufficiently  obvious 
without  the  rather  glaring  label  for 
Timbuctoo  on  the  trunk  that  he  is 
packing. 

Those  of  our  younger  artists  who 
fritter  their  talents  on  endless  and 
depressing  replicas  of  fishing  vessels 
and  other  subjects  "  en  plein  air  "  are 
earnestly  recommended  to  study  Miss 
Barbara  Fellhurst's  great  canvas, 
brooding  over  Room  IV.  with  its  note 
of  the  Tragedy  that  is  eternal.  No- 
body, until  they  have  seen  this  Last  of 
the  Hundred  Dozen — the  Sandhurst 
Tuck-shop  at  Curfew,  would  believe  that 
a  mere  bun,  waiting  for  its  end,  could 
be  invested  with  such  stoical  dignity. 
Looking  at  that  quiet  figure,  touched 
with  some  purple  of  the  sunset  that  is 
its  first  and  last,  one  feels  that  not  in 
vain  have  its  oven-mates  gone  down. 
Miss  Fellhurst  uses  no  cheap  device 
of  the  stricken  field ;  she  harrows  us 
with  no  horrors  of  war.  But  somehow 
she  tells  us  that  there  is  internal  discord 


among  the  gallant  cadets.  Two  of  them 
only  advance  upon  that  lonely  figure 

the  last  of  the  buns.     The  artist  has 

shown  us  a  problem  as  old  as  the  hills, 
appetite  against  repletion — and  she 
leaves  us  to  guess  where  the  victory 
lies.  

AN   ANGLO-FRENCH   MIS- 
UNDERSTANDING. 

EDMUND  is  a  thoroughly  good  sort, 
but  oh,  so  shy.  The  least  little  thing 
suffuses  him  witli  embarrassment ;  the 
most  imaginary  prominence  confounds 
him.  Some  day  I  suppose  he  will  get 
married  by  proxy  after  an  engagement 
by  special  licence.  There  can  hardly 
be  a  more  bashful  man  in  all  London. 

Well,  one  day  lately,  when  I  .was 
going  out  of  town,  Edmund  came  into 
a  post-office  with  me.  It  is  a  large 
office  with,  I  should  say,  a  valuable 
good-will,  but  it  is  not  one  of  your 
hurried  City  places.  The  oligarchs 
behind  the  counter  are  dignified  and 
discriminating.  You  are  scanned  and 
passed  for  probity,  and  tastefully- 
printed  stamps  are  presented  to  you 
(you  know  the  way)  as  certificates  of 
character. 

I  went  over  to  the  bustard-holes  and 
wrote  a  telegram.  "Edmund,"  said  I, 
"  will  you  hand  this  in  while  I  write 
some  more  ?  Ask  her  if  it  matters  its 
being  in  French.  Here  's  a  bob." 

Edmund  took  it.  I  heard  him  ask 
and  I  heard  the  reply — "French  is 
admissible."  Edmund,  delighted  to  be 
in  order,  flicked  the  form  under  the 
rails,  quite  briskly  and  audaciously  for 
him,  without  reading  it. 

The  young  woman  examined  it  and 
immediately  shot  an  outraged  look  upon 
Edmund.  He  began  to  blush  ;  I  knew 
he  was  wishing  he  had  glanced  at  it 
first.  "Oh,  can  I — er — '  he  said, 
"  er — perhaps  you  've  not  quite  got  the 
French  .  .  .  misleading  language,  I 
always  think — er — should  I  ?  ..."  The 
young  woman  said,  "  Sir !  "  and  banged 
the  form  over  the  counter  to  Edmund 
with  a  stamp.  He  read  it. 

It  was  addressed  to  my  favourite 
hotel  and  I  myself  find  the  French  of  it 
excellent  and  clear.  It  ran  :  "  Arrive 
Bournemouth  4.15." 


"A  Beautiful  American  Organ;  splendid 
sound;  with  10  stops;  and  shaped  mirror; 
worth  the  trouble  of  seeing  it." — Cape  Argus. 

Of   seeing   it    once,    perhaps ;    but   of 
seeing  it  every  day  ?     Ah  ! 


"  For  an  inventory  of  the  other  charms  of 
the  '  faire  freshe  May  '  the  reader  must  consult 
the  poet's  passim." — Globe. 

If  it  is  not  there  it  will  be  found  in  his 
ibid. 


MILLIONS    FOR   THE    MILLION. 

[Owing  to  the  failures  of  recent  flotations 
to  attract  public  attention,  financiers  drclaic 
that  new  issues  will  have  to  be  advertised  in 
a  more  up-to-date  way.] 

THIS  WILL  INTEREST  TOU  ! 
THE  ALL-GOLD  FIVE-POWER  CHINESE 

LOAN. 

Guaranteed  for  Five  Years. 
Durability!     Reliability!    Strength  I 

Refuse  all  privately  -issued  Loans, 
asserted  to  be  "Just  as  Good"  or 
"Practically  the  Same  Thing."  They 
are  NOT  the  same  thing.,  See  our  name 
on  each  Bond.  If  your  ,  broker  does 
not  stock  them  let  us  know. 


OUR  AMERICAN 
"A.-G."  (Anti-Gambling)  MARCONIS. 

Increase  in  value  while  you  sleep. 
Packed  free  from  observation  and  des- 
patched privately. 

Cabinet  Minister  '  '  writes  :  —  "I  have  found 
your  shares  most  profitable.  Plensc  send  me 
on  2,000  fresh  shares  for  some  friends  on  your 
credit  system." 

\Vith  free  "Guess-let"  Competition 
—  the  craze  of  the  moment.  Guess  what 
the  shares  will  reach.  Cash  Prizes. 
One  competitor  made  £20,000  in  two 
days.  Mark  your  envelopes  "  Wait  and 
See." 

:!:  £  # 

HALF-A-CROWN  DOWN  BRINGS 

BRAZILIAN  BOND  ! 

The  Rest  by  Easy  Instalments  on 
the  Furniture  System.  You  get  the 
Bond  delivered  by  our  carters  at  your 
house  on  the  day  of  allotment.  If  after 
a  month's  trial  you  do  not  like  it  we 
take  it  back  carriage  forward.  All  we 
ask  you  to  do  is  to  send  postal  order, 
tearing  off  coupon  at  dotted  line,  with 
your  professional  card  or  letter-lieading, 
stating  "  Mr.,  Mrs.,  Miss  or  Rev."  No 
business  done  with  Minors. 

:!:  :Ic  #    . 

SHARES  FOR  THE  MILLION.  —  So  as 
to  popularise  the  new  issue  of  Consoli- 
dated Clothes  Horses,  Ltd.,  the  pro- 
moters have  decided  to  offerTlireepenny 
shares  (or  Five  a  Shilling).  Illustrated 
Catalogue  post  free  on  application  to 
Bank  of  England  (Dept.  G).  Will  out- 
last others  at  three  times  the  price. 

"York  Minster's  twelve  bslls  have  been  re- 
moved to  undergo  necessary  repairs.  Tho 
clock,  which  strikes  on  the  tenor  ball  for  the 
chiming  of  the  quarter  and  half-hours,  is  to 
be  reconstructed. 

The  hair  on  the  heads  of  most  of  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  dolls  exhibited  in  shop 
windows  is  obtained  from  the  Angora  goat. 

After  a  long  and  animated  debate,  however, 
the  committee's  minutes  were  adopted." 

Norttiern  Daily  Telegraph. 
The   committee   seems   impervious    to 
argument. 


MAY  28,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


421 


THE    DEPOPULATION    OF    RURAL    ENGLAND. 

Sir  Roger  Duplessy,  Bart,  (came  over  mth  the  CONQUEROR).  "  I  SEE  THAT  poon  OLD  HUGH  RICOCHET  HAS  BROKEN  UP  HIS  ESTATE 

AND  IS  OFF  TO   CANADA.      MY  DEAR   MOTHER,   ISN'T  IT   AWFUL  TO  BEALISE   THAT   YOU   AND   I   ABE   ABSOLUTELY  THE   ONLY  PEOPLE   LEFT 
IN   THE    COUNTY?  " 


A  EIVAL  FOB  CARUSO. 

THE  facts  and  figures  bearing  on  the 
anatomy  of  Signer  CARUSO  published  in 
The  Daily  Mail  of  May  20  (writes  a 
musical  correspondent)  are  no  doubt 
exceedingly  interesting.  But  the  con- 
tention that  his  sound-box  represents 
the  supreniD  perfection  of  structure  and 
resonance  must  be  resolutely  combated 
in  the  interests  not  merely  of  truth  but 
of  patriotism.  I  have  just  witnessed 
the  examination  of  Mr.  Chester  Huth, 
the  famous  Anglo-Israelitish  baritone, 
by  Dr.  Samuel  Soper,  F.E.C.S.,  the 
illustrious  and  disinterested  laryn- 
gologist  of  Wimpole  Street,  and  have 
his  permission  to  publish  the  memor- 
andum in  which  he  embodies  the  results 
of  his  examination. 

Dr.  Soper  begins  by  observing  that 
Mr.  Chester  Huth's  facial  angle  ap- 
proximates more  closely  to  the  confor- 
mation of  tho  Piltdown  skull  than  that 
of  any  other  musician  he  has  ever  ex- 
amined. "Perhaps  the  most  striking 
single  feature,"  he  continues, "  is  the  size 
and  the  elasticity  of  his  cranium.  He  is 
not  only  markedly  prognathous,  but  his 
forehead  exhibits  Inequality  of  bulbosity 
in  an  extraordinary  degree.  The  occi- 
put, the  sinciput  and  the  cerebellum 
are  all  equally  developed,  but,  what  is 
more,  they  are  capable  in  moments  of 


emotion  of  such  an  amount  of  dilatation 
that  he  is  obliged  to  wear  hats  of 
different  sizes,  varying  from  6£  to  8TY 

"  The  resonance  of  his  cranium  again 
is  altogether  abnormal.  Struck  smartly 
with  an  ivory  paper-knife  it  gives  out 
a  middle  C  of  fine  timbre.  Another 
point  is  the  extraordinary  curve  of  his 
nose,  which,  when  measured  from  the 
top  of  the  upper  lip  to  a  spot  midway 
between  the  eyebrows,  is  at  least  half- 
an-inch  longer  than  that  of  the  famous 
statue  of  MOSES  by  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 
This  accounts  for  the  superbly  nasal 
tone  which  Mr.  Chester  Huth  is  able 
to  elicit  in  moments  of  passion. 

"  Another  interesting  feature  about 
this  remarkable  artist  is  the  unequalled 
opulence  of  his  capillary  equipment. 
The  average  man  has  about  15,900  hairs 
on  his  head,  but  Mr.  Chester  Huth 
has  upwards  of  30,000.  His  follicular 
system  is  of  an  unusually  vigorous 
kind,  and  the  pigmentation  wonder- 
fully healthy.  Brushed  with  an  elec- 
tric brush  his  hair  crackles  freely  and 
gives  out  a  pale-blue  flame,  at  which 
a  cigarette  can  be  lit  or  the  time  be 
read  on  a  watch  in  the  dark.  This 
is  a  scientific  fact  which  accounts  to  a 
great  extent  for  the  magnetic  influence 
which  Mr.  Chester  Huth  exerts  on 
susceptible  audiences  of  a  mattoid 
diathesis.  His  chevelure  is  fine,  silky 


in  texture  but  extraordinarily  strong, 
and  I  am  assured  that  an  admirer  who 
became  the  fortunate  possessor  of  a 
small  lock  made  a  cast  out  of  it  with 
which  he  landed  a  241b.  salmon. 

"  I  see  it  stated  that  CAKUSO  merely 
by  expanding  his  lungs  is  able  to  push 
a  large  Steinway  concert  grand  piano- 
forte several  inches  along  the  carpet. 
On  trying  a  similar  experiment  with  my 
6-cylinder  80-h.p.  Jones- Joyce  Limou- 
sine, Mr.  Chester  Huth  shot  it  a  hundred 
yards  along  the  kerb,  to  the  conster- 
nation of  a  one  -  legged  crossing  - 
sweeper,  who  narrowly  escaped  death. 

"  The  secret  of  Chester  Huth's  pos- 
session of  the  volume  and  sonority  of 
Niagara  combined  with  the  penetrating 
timbre  of  the  gorilla's  higher  register 
lies,  in  my  opinion,  largely  in  the 
extraordinary  beauty  of  his  Eustachian 
i  tube  —  the  passage  connecting  the 
pharynx  with  the  middle  ear — which 
in  his  case  measures  at  least  a  sixteenth- 
of-an-inch  longer  than  that  of  PAGAXINI, 
who  previously  held  the  record." 

It  only  remains  to  be  added  that  Mr. 
Chester  Huth  is  as  generous  as  he  is 
gifted,  but  that  Dr.  Samuel  Soper  has 
no  intention  of  accepting  remuneration 
for  his  task,  which  he  performed  for 
pure  joy  of  anthropometry  and  with  no 
idea  that  he  was  advertising  the  great 
baritone. 


422 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  28,  1913. 


Passenger.  "You 'BE  VEKY  CLUMSY  WITH  YOUR  FEET,  CONDUCTOR. 
Conductor.  "WHAT  D'  v'  EXPECT  rdn  A  'ALFPENNY  A  MILE?    PAVLOYEB?" 


• 


LATEST  FROM  THE  HIVES. 

[Owing  to  an  epidemic  in  the  Somerset 
apiaries,  we  learn  from  Tlit  Pall  Mall  Qazette, 
human  bees  have  to  be  appointed  to  carry 
pollen  for  the  purposes  of  cross-fertilization. 
Otherwise  there  would  be  a  shortage  of  cider 
in  Somerset  this  year.] 

THE  announcement  of  the  employ- 
ment of  "human  bees"  in  Somerset 
may  give  relief  to  the  anxious  minds  of 
the  cider-manufacturers,  but  it  has 
caused  consternation  in  other  quarters. 
The  remarkable  intelligence  of  the  bee 
has  by  some  subtle  means  communi- 
cated to  hives  all  over  the  country  the 
fact  of  this  introduction  of  blackleg 
labour,  and  these  resorts  of  our  most 
industrious  insect  are  simply  buzzing 
with  excitement.  Naturally  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  anger  expressed,  and 
a  new  and  sinister  meaning  has  been 
given  to  the  term  "beeswax." 

"  Down  honey-sacks  !  "  is  the  cry  of 
the  more  ardent  agitators.  We  are 
privately  informed  that  in  one  hive  the 
honeycomb  is  being  surreptitiously  filled 
with  corrosive  acid.  Another  hive  con- 


tains distinct  signs  of  an  explosion 
having  taken  place,  and  although  no 
tell-tale  literature  lias  been  left  lying 
about  there  is  little  doubt  that  the 
Y.H.B.s  (Young  Hot-headed  Bees)  are 
responsible  for  .this.  One  hive-keeper, 
who  has  a  great  reputation  for  handling 
his  bees  without  being  stung,  was  badly 
bitten  last  Sunday  while  entertaining 
a  small  house-party,  from  which  it  is 
feared  that  the  gnats  are  rising  in 
league  with  the  bees. 

Whatever  sympathy  we  may  feel  for 
the  denizens  of  our  apiaries,  we  feel 
still  more  for  M.  MAETERLINCK.  He, 
poor  man,  is  in  despair.  His  publishers 
insist  that  his  Life  of  the  Bee,  in  order 
to  remain  the  leading  authority  on  the 
subject,  must  now  have  an  appendix. 
"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  get  this 
appendix  into  less  than  five  volumes," 
he  exclaimed  pathetically  to  a  friend. 

The  proprietor  of  the  Somerset  hive 
desires  us  to  make  known  that  he  can 
receive  no  more  applications  for  the 
post  of  drone,  as  that  department  was 
filled  some  days  ago. 


A    TIMELY    WARNING. 

[To  a  new  neighbour  on  hearing  a  lawyer's 
opinion  to  the  effect -that,  according  to  legal 
statistics,  tempers  are  much  worse  in  winter 
than  summer.] 

GOOD  Sir,  your  flute  provokes  the  im- 
pious word, 

Slaying  some  luckless  air  at  even-fall. 
I  kick  the  furniture — perhaps  you  heard 
Last  night  the  way  I  hammered  on 
the  wall. 

My  broken  skin  avows 
The  violence  of   the  poet  whom   you 
rouse. 

And  this  is  summer,  I  would  have  you 

know, 
And,    knowing,    think    upon     your 

threatened  fate 
When  winter's  winds  (like  you)  begin 

to  blow,    • 

And    tempers    share   the   daylight's 
shortened  state. 

My  wintry  wrath  might  prove 
Deadly  to  you.     I  think  you  'd  better 
move. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAY  28,   1913. 


BARRED    OUT. 


SPIRIT  OF  MISTRUST.  "  I   HATE   THESE   ROYAL  WEDDINGS.     PEOPLE   MEET,   AND  THERE  'S 
SUCH    A    DANGER    OF    THEIR    GETTING    TO    UNDERSTAND    ONE    ANOTHER." 


MAY  28,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


425 


ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 
THIO  Two  PKRKUMKH. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a 
common,  ami  on  it  a  cottage  had  been 
built  with  a  high  bank  beside  it,  and 
on  this  bank  grew  a  lilac-tree  whose 
branches  hung  very  near  the  path,  and 
below  the  lilac  was  a  great  mass  of 
rich  brown  wall-flowers. 

Looking  up  one  afternoon  the  lilac 
saw  a  wayfarer  approaching.  I  hope 
he  will  notice  me  and  stop,  she  thought ; 
for  she  had  but  a  short  time  of  blossom, 
and  she  knew  it,  and  it  gave  her 
pleasure  to  be  courted  and  praised. 

"  There  's  some  one  coming,"  she 
said  to  the  wall-flower.  "  He  looks 
rather  interesting.  I  think  he  '11  stop." 

"  If  he  does,"  said  the  wall-flower, 
"  it  will  be  for  you.  I  've  been  going 
on  too  long.  They  're  all  tired  of  me 
by  now." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  the 
lilac.  "  I  wish  I  did.  This  one  looks 
to  me  as  if  he  would  be  keen  on  both 
of  us.  I  tell  you  he  's  nice." 

"  Let 's  have  a  bet,"  said  the  wall- 
flower. "  I  bet  you  that  he  pays  more 
attention  to  you  than  to  me." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  lilac ;  "  and 
I  bet  he  pays  more  attention  to  you. 
How  much  ?  " 

"  Two  bees,"  said  the  wall-flower. 

"Done,"  said  the  lilac  as  the  man 
reached  them. 

He  was  a  middle-aged  man,  with  a 
kindly  face,  and  he  knelt  down  by  the 
wall-flowers  and  took  a  long  draught 
of  them. 

Immediately  his  years  left  him  and 
he  was  a  boy  again.  He  thought 
himself  in  an  old  garden.  The  walls 
had  toad-flax  between  the  bricks.  There 
was  a  tortoise  in  the  greenhouse.  The 
lawn  was  very  bare  where  he  and  his 
brothers  and  sisters  played  too  much 
cricket.  All  along  the  front  of  the 
house  was  a  bed  of  wall-flowers,  and 
in  a  chair  by  the  window  of  the  dining- 
room  lay  a  lady  sewing.  Every  now 
and  then  she  looked  up  and  smiled  at 
the  cricketers.  "  Well  hit !  "  she  would 
say,  or  "  Well  caught !  " 

Whenever  any  of  them  were  out 
they  ran  to  her  for  a  second  and  kissed 
her — not  long  enough  to  interrupt  the 
game,  but  just  to  let  her  know  that  she 
was  the  most  beautiful  and  adorable 
creature  in  the  world. 

The  man's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
Why  did  the  scent  of  wall -flowers 
always  bring  back  this  scene,  and  this 
only  ?  But  it  did. 

He  reached  up  and  pulled  a  branch 
of  lilac  to  his  face,  and  straightway  he 
was  a  young  man  again.  He  was  not 
alone.  It  was  night  and  the  moon 
was  shining,  and  he  was  standing  in 


Lady.  "  You  TOLD  ME  I  KEED  NOT  TAKE  OUT  A  LICENCE  FOB  THE  DOQ  TILL  THE  END 

OP  THE  YEAB,  AND  NOW  THEY  'VE  SENT  MB  A  SUMMONS." 

Fancier.  "THEM  REVENUE  PEOPLE  WILE,  DO  BANYTHMK,  LADY.    I  SOLD  A  GENELMAN 

A  PARBOT   LABST  WEEK,    AN1    THEY    SUMMONED    '/.W  FOB  KEEPING   A  DOG   WITHOUT  A   LICENCE 
JUET  BECO8   THE   BIRD   "APPENED   TO   *AVE   A   'USKY   VOICE." 


the  garden  with  a  beautiful  girl  beside 

him.     It  was  the  hour  of  his  betrothal. 

How  wonderful ! "  she  said   at   last. 

Oh,  I  am  too  happy!"    And  again 

his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Then  once  more  he  buried  his  face 
in  the  wall-flowers.  .  .  . 

After  he  had  passed  on  his  way 
across  the  common,  "I've  won,"  said 
the  lilac  sadly. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  wall-flower.  "  I  owe 
you  two  bees.  I  won't  forget  to  send 
them  on." 


A  Born  Scholar. 

"  At  Bryn,  to  Mr.  Charles  Sowerbutts  and 
Mrs.  Sowerbutts  (nee  Mary  Jones,  B.A.),  a 
son." — The  Methodist  Recorder. 


Political  Candour. 

From  a  report  in  The  Daily  Telegraph 
of  Mr.  MCKENNA'S  speech  at  Cardiff: — 

"  He  regarded  the  bill  as  it  now  stood  as  a 
fair  and  just  measure  of  religious  equality  for 
Wales.  It  was  no  longer  the  mere  legislative 
proposal  of  the  Government ;  it  was  the 
matured  and  considered  work  of  the  House  of 
Commons." 


423 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  28.  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  CRCESUS." 

••CFIARITY,"  says  M.  Bocliebrunc  in 
the  play,  among  other  less  memorable 
aphorisms — "  Charity,  like  golf,  is  a  rich 
man's  game."  And,  though  I  don't 
presume  to  guess  who  it  is  that  is  going 
to  pay  for  his  fun,  I  should  say  that  the 
production  of  such  a  play  as  Baron 
HKNBI  DE  ROTHSCHILD'S  Croesus  was 
also  a  rich  man's  game.  Certainlyr  with- 
out pretending  to  follow  the  ohscure  and 
complex  litigation  of  which  this  comedy 
(or  was  it  a  tragedy?)  has  been  the 
subject,  most  of  us  concluded  that  it  was 
hardly  worth  fighting  about,  and  that 
it  is  not  likely  to  live  very  long  after  the 
temporary  effect  of  its  loud  advertise- 
ment in  the  courts — unpremeditated,  no 
doubt — has  worn  off.  "Count  no  man 
happy  till  he  is  dead,"  was  the  legend- 
ary remark  of  SOLON  to  the  original 
Cnffisus  ;  and  perhaps  an  early  demise 
will  be  the  happiest  ending  of  the 
cheqsered  career  of  Croesus  II. 

"It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through 
the  eye  of  a  needle  than  for  a  rich  man 
to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  Love." 
This  —  for  even  the  demi-monde  can 
adapt  Scripture  for  its  purpose — was 
the  labelled  motive,  none  too  fresh,  of 
the  play.  But  the  sympathy  which  is 
claimed  by  multi-millionaires  on  the 
plea  that  they  cannot  gain  affection 
pure  from  mercenary  sentiment  is  never 
very  heartily  accorded.  Most  people 
would  accept  the  wealth  and  chance 
the  penalty.  In  the  case  of  Comte 
Sorbier  our  sympathy  was  the  more 
grudging  because  the  woman  on  whom 
he  lavished  his  wealth  was  only  his 
mistress,  and  therefore  at  perfect  liberty 
to  move  on,  when  she  chose,  into  more 
entertaining  pastures.  A  vague  hope 
of  reconciliation  was  held  out  to  us ; 
for  did  not  Grandval,  the  Abdiel  of  the 
company,  hint  that  a  rich  man  has  not 
failed  if  he  can  keep  the  true  devotion 
of  one  man  and  of  one  woman  ?  But 
nothing  came  of  it  so  far  as  the  woman 
was  concerned.  True,  she  returned 
from  her  escapade,  alleging  that  her 
heart  had  always  remained  true  to  her 
Sorbier;  but  she  imposed  neither  on 
him  nor  on  us. 

Meanwhile  Croesus  had  been  harbour- 
ing the  illusion  that  by  a  disguise  of 
his  identity  he  might  rivet  to  himself 
the  disinterested  affections  of  a  true 
woman.  Such  a  treasure  he  thought 
he  had  discovered,  where  a  less  child- 
like and  confiding  nature  might  never 
have  looked  for  it,  in  the  person  of  a 
midinette.  The  masquerade  was  very 
simple.  He  just  changed  into  an  old 
jacket,  light  overcoat  and  popular  slouch 
hat,  carefully  guarded  in  a  patent  safe, 
which  must,  I  presume,  have  been  the 


chief  feature  of  the  scenery  which  Mr. 
BOUECHIER  was  so  anxious  to  retrieve 
from  the  other  party  in  the  case.  So 
we  were  suddenly  transported  from  the 
smartest  circles  of  Parisian  fashion  into 
a  boisterous  scene  of  low  life  in  Bohemia, 
and  never  got  back  again.  As  the  cur- 
tain rose  upon  the  last  Act,  with  its 
half-dozen  or  so  of  perfectly  new 
characters,  I  thought  there  must  be 
some  mistake.  I  admit  that  I  was  a 
little  dazed  by  a  change  in  my  own 
social  condition,  for  by  the  courtesy 
of  a  friend  I  found  myself  admitted  to 
the  dignity  of  the  stalls,  after  having 
had  a  foreshortened  view  of  the  first 
two  Acts  from  a  free  seat  in  the  Upper 
Circle. 


Sorbier  (Mr.  ARTHUR  BOURCHIER)  setting 
out  to  be  loved  for  himself— not  for  his  hat  or 
coat. 

However,  the  ultimate  appearance  of 
Croesus  made  it  clear  that  this  Act  was 
part  of  the  play.  A  very  long  dialogue 
ensued  between  him  and  the  midinette 
of  his  choice,  from  which  we  learned  that 
she  had  been  the  object  of  attentions 
on  the  part  of  a  vieux  marcheur,  who 
had  offered  her  his  protection  and  the 
luxury  of  an  appartement,  which  she 
innocently  proposed  to  accept  without 
any  idea  that  the  result  might  be  of 
a  compromising  nature.  Acting  on 
this  information,  Sorbier  disclosed  his 
identity  (an  obvious  dramatic  chance 
sadly  manque),  and  paid  her  off  hand- 
somely and  to  her  complete  satisfaction. 

So  ended  the  play  on  the  knell  of 
another  lost  illusion,  and  Baron  HENRI 
DE  ROTHSCHILD  had  achieved  at  least 
one  of  the  high  purposes  of  drama — to 
purify  the  heart  with  pity.  For  who 
could  view  with  dry  eyes  the  poignant 
spectacle  of  a  millionaire  left  for  the 
moment  without  a  mistress  1 


Mr.  BOURCHIER,  snatching  a  brief 
respite  from  the  dusty  purlieus  of  the 
law,  played  the  part  of  Sorbier  as  easily 
as  if  he  had  just  emerged  from  a  rest- 
cure.  In  the  lighter  passages,  especially 
in  the  Second  Act,  where  he  dealt  tersely 
with  a  variety  of  beggars,  he  was  ex- 
cellent, but  did  not  altogether  succeed 
in  suggesting  a  figure  of  romance. 

Of  Madame  GABRIELLE  DORZIAT'S 
performance  as  Marcelle  it  is  difficult 
to  judge,  for  she  spoke  a  Gallicised 
English.  The  blend  of  this  with  the 
native  English  (Cockney  and  other) 
of  the  rest  of  the  cast,  though  in  her 
case  it  was  unavoidable  if  she  had  to 
play  the  part  at  all,  produced  the  same 
effect  of  absurd  incongruity  which  one 
suffers  in  plays  adapted  from  the 
French  when  some  isolated  character 
adopts  broken  English  for  the  purpose 
of  local  colour.  She  played  with 
vivacity  but  without  any  very  peculiar 
grace.  Whether  she  might  have  moved 
us  more  if  she  had  let  us  see  her  in  the 
new  gown  which  her  milliner  brought 
for  her,  none  can  say,  for,  after  retiring 
to  try  it  on,  she  never  appeared  in  it. 
Here  again  the  author  raised  hopes, 
only  to  dash  them  to  the  ground. 

From  the  others  we  got  no  very 
fresh  ideas  about  Parisian  esprit.  Mr. 
SPENCER  TREVOR  was  perhaps  most  at 
home  in  his  favourite  part  of  a  senile 
buffoon.  In  the  other  section  of  the 
play  Miss  MAHJORIE  WATERLOW,  as 
the  over-innocent  midinette,  did  her 
best  to  be  nearer  nature  than  the  part 
allowed,  but  she  was  not  quite  equal  to 
the  strain  of  so  improbable  a  situation 
and  so  much  dialogue  to  go  with  it. 
I  am  not  sure  that  little  Miss  JOYCE 
ROBEY  (Toto),  whose  business  was  to 
enjoy  her  supper  at  a  miniature  table 
apart,  did  not  do  as  much  justice  as  any- 
body to  Baron  HENRI  DE  ROTHSCHILD'S 
design. 

How  far  his  play  was  a  personal  cri 
de  ccnir  I  am  too  discreet  even  to  con- 
jecture, but  I  permit  myself  respectfully 
to  hope  that  life  has  its  compensations 
for  him — compensations  unknown  to 
the  ordinary  playwright.  O.  S. 


"  Wanted,  two  Bull  Terriers,  must  be  veil 
bred  and  fond  of  goats." — Advt.  in  "  liucnos 
Aires  Standard." 

Our  own  bull-terrier  simply  dotes  on 
anything  with  a  beard,  but,  alas !  he  is 
not  well  bred. 


"Oxford,  40  for  two.     Herring  b.  Humph- 
reys, 2H." — liristol  Eccniny  Times. 

This  paves  the  way  for  our  great  mathe- 
matical problem.  If  a  herring  and  a 
half  makes  a  run  and  a  half  in  an  hour 
and  a  half,  how  long  will  it  take  one 
herring  to  make  21£  ? 


MAY  28,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


427 


1    •> 


FANCY 


AND 

THE  NUT'S  FIRST  SEA- VOYAGE. 


FACT. 


MB.  PUNCH  IN  THE   PAST. 

[After  the  custom  of  several  of  his  con- 
temporaries aud  in  the  manner  of  himself.] 

I. 
[Reprodiiced  from  "  Punch  "  of  1215.] 

June  15th. — In  anticipation  of 
memorable  meeting  Barons  arrive 
early.  BOB  FITZ  replete  with  new  suit  | 
of  armour  of  civilization,  whether  as  a 
sign  of  his  leadership  or  merely  to  grace 
unprecedented  occasion  not  altogether 
evident.  Quite  in  accordance  with 
traditions  of  House  for  assembly  to 
assume  almost  holiday  air,  no  doubt 
due  in  part  to  sylvan  surroundings  of 
Runnymede. 

"Jolly  little  spot,"  said  DB  QUINCY, 
calmly  fishing  for  a  bluebottle  lodged  in- 
side his  leader's  gorget.  "  You  don't  get 
bluebottles  and  buttercups  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing  in  Westminster  Hall." 
Nothing  in  his  bearing,  or  even  in  BOB 
FIT//S,  to  indicate  imminence  of  deadly 
struggle  to  resist  destruction  of  Con- 
stitution, said  struggle,  moreover,  forced 
on  Barons  during  hard-earned  Recess 
succeeding  feudal  service. 

Temper  of  assembly  somewhat 
changed  on  arrival  of  OUR  JOHN  and 
commencement  of  full  debate.  Still, 
Barons  tolerably  at  ease  in  anticipation 
of  big  majority  at  division.  STEPHEN 
CANTUAB  appeared  in  his  place  at  side 


of  OUR  JOHN,  but  SARK,  with  accustomed 
eagle  eye,  observed  him  to  greet  BOB 
FITZ  with  friendly  wink. 

Order  of  day  consisted  of  discussion 
of  Articles  of  Barons.  As  expected, 
OUR  JOHN  declined  all  debate  and  con- 
fined himself  wholly  to  obstruction, 
complaining  of  "  unprecedented  effront- 
ery of  tyrannical  majority  in  com- 
pressing debate  on  matters  vital  to 
constitution  to  extent  of  discussing 
forty-eight  clauses  in  single  sitting." 
BOB  FITZ,  in  course  of  brief  reply,  re- 
ferred to  OUR  JOHN'S  refusal  to  discuss 
matter  when  ample  time  had  been 
allowed.  Temper  of  latter  not  improved 
by  secession  of  STEPHEN  CANTUAR  in 
strong  speech  favouring  summary 
acceptance  of  clauses.  Debate  con- 
cluded by  BOB  FITZ'S  significant 
closure  of  his  vizor. 

Business  done. — Magna  Carta  signed. 


FATHER  THAMES. 

YE  Muses,  light  sleeping 
Where  Hippocrene  's  leaping, 
Come  brush  from  the  kirtle  its  spray 

that  begems, 
And  make  me  a  measure 
Of  summer  and  pleasure, 
As  gay  as  a  piper,  in  praise  of  eld 
Thames  ! 


Oh,  broad  are  his  reaches, 
Oh,  brilliant  the  beaches 
That  margin  that  dear  and  delectable 

stream ; 

From  shallows  of  amber 
His  irises  clamber, 

His  kingcups  are  golden,  his  kingfishers 
gleam ! 

So  best  do  we  love  him, 
May's  zenith  above  him, 
His  alders  in  blossom,  his  blackcaps  in 

song, 

His  chestnut  lamps  litten 
From  Rushey  to  Ditton, 
In   pale  waxen   lustres   to   light   him 
along. 

From  now  to  September 
Old  tunes  he  '11  remember 
Of  sunshine  and  water,  of  shadow  and 

leaves, 

And  all  the  dear  graces 
Of  sweet  pretty  faces, 
And  all  the  dim  magic  of  midsummer 
eves. 

O  Ancient  of  Waters, 
Your  sons  and  your  daughters — 
Small  wonder  they  praise   you    with 

laughter  and  love, 
When  broad  you  come  streaming 
Through  summer  meads  gleaming, 
The  chestnuts'  brave  candles  to  light 
you  above  1 


428 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  28,  1913. 


HORS  DE  COMBAT. 

Ox  tho  Wednesday  I  wrote  : — "  Dear 
Marjorie,  do  3011  remember  the  snap 
with  which  my  heart  broke  when,  some 
five  years  ago,  you  told  mo  thcit,  much 
as  you  liked  cna.  you  yet  intended  to 
marry  Jonathan?  You  don't?  Nor 
my  resolution  to  go  out  into  the  wilds 
and  shoot  big  game?  Come,  come; 
surely  you  cannot  have  forgotten  my 
saying  that  I  would  pit  my  little 
strength  and  cunning  against  some  un- 
tamed monster  and  more  than  half  hoped 
that  the  monster  would  win  ?  This  atti- 
tude impressed  you  very  favourably  at 
tho  time,  and  you  were  all  for  being  on 
with  me  again  and  oft'  with  Jonathan 
until  he  said,  '  Don't  you  believe  about 
that  monster,"  or  words  to  that  effect. 
Well,. to  show  that  I  have  forgiven  you 
both,  I  want  you  to  come  and  stay  the 
week-end  .with  me  at  my  hermitage  and 
be  introduced  to  the  monster,  which,  I 
am  sorry  to -say,  has  lost. — Yours,  still 
alive  but  unhappy,  Charles." 

On  Friday  morning  I  found  a  letter 
waiting  "for  mo,  which,  with  an  in- 
stinctive thrill,  I  tore  open.  "  Dear 
Sir,""it  ran,  "..we  beg  to  give  you  notice 
that  your  water  supply  will  be  cut  off 
at  the  main  from  9.0  A.M.  till  noon  on 
Sunday  next. — Yours  faithfully,  The 
Pelborough  Waterworks  Co."  In  the 
afternoon  I  had  a  .wire  from  Marjorie 
and  Jonathan  accepting. 

On  the  Sunday  morning  I  rose  at  my 
usual  time,  8.30,  and  an  hour  later  was 
joined  by  Marjorie  at  breakfast.  This 
was  our  first  rnesting  alone  since  the 
cri«is. 

"  Coming  straight  to  the  point,"  said 
I,  "do  you  still  think  you  have  the 
right  man  for  husband  ?  " 

'•I  want,"  .said  s'.ie,  evading  the 
question,  "  to  see  the  monster." 

"  You  have  seen  it  once,"  said  I,  "  but. 
if  you  aren't  satisfied  go  upstairs  and 
have  another  bath."  She  did  not 
follow.  "  Not  every  wild  beast  bears 
its  savagery  stamped  oa  its  exterior. 
The  most  deadly  kind  are  outwardly 
calm  and  even  polished.  Let  me  tell 
you  that  there  is  no  more  angry  and 
treacherous  brute  known  to  the  big 
sportsman  than  the  geyser." 

Marjorie  sniffed.  "  If  you  mean  that 
big  copper  thing  in  the  bathroom  .  .  ." 

"  I  do,"  said  I.  "  Have  you  ever 
met  one  so  easily  infuriated?" 

"  1  have  never  met  one  at  all,"  said 
she.  "In  our  walk  of  life  such  tilings 
do  not  occur,  or,  if  they  do,  occur  in 
the  servants'  quarters." 

I  apologised.  "  For  the  moment  I 
forgot  your  higher  social  plane.  But 
tell  me,  did  it  growl  at  you  ?  " 

"  Tho  most  harmless  animal  I  have 
ever  seen.  It  simply  sat  up  and  begged." 


"  And  showed  no  signs  of  getting 
heated?  " 

"No." 

"Then,"  I  declared,  "you  cannot 
have  lit  it." 

"Lit  it?"  she  asked.  "No,  why 
should  I?" 

It  appeared  that  when  Marjorio  sees  a 
tap  with  HOT  on  it,  it  is  her  custom  to 
turn  it  on  without  setting  fire  to  it, 
however  much  mechanism  there  may 
be  behind  it.  There  is  something  to  be 
said  for  this  course.  True,  the  result 
is  a  cold  bath,  but  even  that  is  more 
comfortable  than  what  happens  to  you 
if  you  set  fire  to  the  mechanism  without 
first  turning  on  the  tap.  In  the  one 
case  you  lose  your  temper  and  sulk ;  in 
the  other  the  geyser  loses  its  temper 
and  bursts. 

"And  so,"  I  said,  "all's  well  that 
ends  well,"  and  I  returned  to  my  sub- 
ject, asking  her  if,  now  she  knew  the 
way  in  which  we  geyser-tamers  take 
our  lives  in  our  hands  every  morning, 
she  still  persisted  in  regarding  Jonathan 
as  the  better  man.  To  evade  the  ques- 
tion she  resorted  to  one  of  his  beastly 
legal  phrases.  "  That,"  said  she,  "  is 
res  jiulicata." 

1  helped  her  to  a  poached  egg  and 
myself  to  two.  "  On  the  contrary," 
said  I,  "it  is  now  sub  judice." 

"  What  I  meant,"  she  said,  "  is  that  I 
have  married  him,  and  there  is  an  end 
of  it." 

"  What  I  meant,"  said  I,  "  is  that  he 
is  now  being  put  to  the  ordeal  of  fire 
and  water,  and  that  may  be  the  end  of 
him."  She  looked  almost  anxious. 
"  That  same  geyser  which  you  affect 
to  despise,  having  given  in  to  me,  is  now 
testing  tho  intrepidity,  strength  and 
cunning  of  Jonathan.  If  he  turns  on 
tho  water  before  he  turns  on  the  gas,  he 
will  eventually  emerge  victorious  from 
the  bathroom  door  and  you  will  live 
happily  and  proudly  with  him  for  ever 
afterwards.  If  he  lights  the  gas  before 
he  fills  the  tank  with  water,  he  will  pass 
out  through  the  window  and  you  will 
want  another  husband.  It  is  quite 
exciting  for  all  of  us,  isn't  it  ?  "  I  stuck 
my  fork  into  a  poached  egg  by  way  of 
illustrating  what  was  probably  hap- 
pening to  Jonathan  at  the  moment. 
"  This,"  I  hissed,  "  is  my  r-r-revenge." 

After  a  pause,  "  Your  difficulty,"  said 
Marjoiie,  "  is  that  a  fat,  round,  red  face 
cannot  easily  bo  made  to  look  sinister." 

I  smiled  at  her  malevolently.  "  Don't 
talk  so  loud,"  said  I,  "  we  may  miss  the 
explosion." 

She  rose. 

I  beckoned  her  back  to  her  seat. 
"  Between  ourselves,"  I  said,  "  there  is 
a  patent  arrangement  which  prevents 
you  turning  on  the  gas  before  you 
have  turned  on  the  water  tap." 


sighed  and  sat  clown.  "I  am 
glad  of  that,"  she  murmured,  "  for 
Jonathan  is  a  good  fellow  in  the 
main." 

Thereupon  I  lost  all  interest  in 
Marjorie  and  poached  eggs.  "  Good 
heavens,"  I  said,  leaping  up,  "  I  had 
forgotten  all  about  the  main." 

***** 

Tho  most  casual  glance  into  the 
bathroom  showed  that  it  had  been 
vacated  in  a  temper.  Jonathan  I  dis- 
covered in  his  bed. 

"  I  can  see  your  face,"  I  said,  "  but 
where  is  tho  rest  of  you  ?  " 

At  this  moment  Fac  Totum  (my 
menial  staff)  entered  with  a  tray  con- 
taining breakfast.  Never  an  emotional 
man,  he  was  singularly  unmoved  at 
this  juncture. 

"  You  might  have  guessed,"  said  I, 
"  that  I  should  forget  all  about  the 
Waterworks." 

"  I  did,  Sir.  I  took  the  liberty,  of 
warning  Mr.  Eoper  when  I  called  him." 

I  looked  at  Jonathan's  face.  It  was 
an  exclamation  mark. 

"And  you  might  have  guessed,"  I 
continued  severely,  "  that  he  would 
forget  all  about  it." 

"I  did,  Sir.  I  took  tho  further 
liberty  of  cutting  off  the  gas  at  the 
main  also." 

***** 

I  went  down  to  report  to  Marjorie. 
"  It  is  all  over  and  your  husband  is  in 
bed." 

"  Severely  injured  ?  "  she  enquired. 

"  Slightly  disgusted.  The  monster 
gave  him  no  sport;  my  man  had 
previously  drawn  its  claws,  and  later 
subdued  its  fighting  spirits  by  putting 
it  on  a  low  diet.  Jonathan,  however, 
has  challenged  it  to  a  second  round  at 
jjpon,  when  it  will  be  hotter  fed." 

"  He  is  no  coward,"  said  Marjorie 
proudly. 

"No,"  I  admitted,  "lie  is  a  man  of 
my  own  stamp.  I  almost  hope  wo 
shall  see  him  down  at  lunch — 
complete." 

"Professor  Sampson  said  that  about  one 
o'clock  this  morning  he  and  Mr.  Storey,  his 
chief  assistant,  were  wakened  by  a  nosu  which 
they  took  to  ba  a  door  banging." 

Glasgow  News. 

Fortunately  no  one  of  our  friends  snores 
so  loudly  as  this. 


"The  Duke  of  Connaught  has  been  unani- 
mously re-elected  Master  of  Trinity  lloiw, 
and  Captain  H.  Acton  Blake,  Deputy  Master, 
for  the  ensuing  year. 

The  Westminster  Gazette,  however,  states 
that  there  is  no  truth  in  the  report  that  the 
Foreign  Office  has  approached  tho  French 
Government  on  the  matter." 

Irish  Indcpendant. 

Thi:i  is  not  one  of  the  matters  that  they 
order  in  France. 


MAY  28,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


429 


POSTERS  THAT  MAKE  YOU  READ. 


WAS     IT     SOME       HOKRIBLf 

HALLUC/WATION  ?     sowe 

SPECTRE      OF    THC     BRAIN? 


BEAD  THE  GREAT  LOVE  STOI.Y.  "MoBE  THAN  COKONKTS." 
DAISY  NOVELETTE   (No.    1,000,001).     PUBLISHED    TO-DAY. 
PENNY. 


SEE  THE  STBONGEST  TALE  OF  MYSTERY  EVER  WBITTEN  sow 
CXNiso  IN  REPLIES.    You  CAN  STABT  IT  AKTWHEBE. 


SEE  THE  THIULLISG,   BLOOD-OUBDLINO,   Sorr.-ABSOBBiNa 
SEIUAL  STAKTINO  IN  TJ-DAY'S  EVERYBODY'S  COMIC. 


sue 

NEXT    INSTANT    THE 

ANP 
ft.Pt/ MO        H/S    NfCK    ! 


READ  THE  GBEATKST  REALISTIC  ROMANCE  OF  MODEBN 
TIMES,  "NoBMAN  BLOOD,"  BEGINNING  IN  THIS  WEEK'SH/GH 
SOCIETY. 


430 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  28,  1913. 


CELEBRATED    TRIALS. 

II. — REX  r.  PENNYCOOK. 

THIS  case,  -which  has  excited  great  interest  among  mem- 
bers of  the  theatrical  profession,  was  brought  to  a  con- 
clusion yesterday.  The  prisoner,  it  will  be  remembered,  is 
a  dramatic  author.  Twelve  years  ago  his  play,  Courtship 
iui<l  ( 'oimiijf,  was  produced  at  the  old  Hilarity  Theatre  and 
enjoyed  a  great  measure  of  success,  running  for  two  hundred 
nights.  After  that  came  A  Woman's  Heart,  which  has  been 
described  as  the  apotheosis  of  happy  domesticity,  and  this 
was  followed  by  Homer's  Thumb,  which  was  played  to 
crowded  houses  in  1904.  In  1905,  however,  the  Act  for  the 
Prevention  of  Cheerfulness  in  Theatres  was  passed  and  the 
prisoner  found  that  the  stage  had  been  very  properly  closed 
to  such  productions  as  were  associated  with  his  name.  He 
had,  it  was  admitted,  signed  the  statutory  declaration 
undertaking  to  refrain  from  writing  anything  that  might 
"  tend  to  produce  merriment,  smiles,  laughter,  exultation, 
gaiety,  happiness,  warmth  of  feeling,  friendship,  marriage 
or  family  joy  " ;  but  he  had  never  loyally  accepted  the  new 
conditions  and  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  been  warned 
by  the  inspectors  appointed  under  the  Act  that  his  conduct, 
if  persisted  in,  would  inevitably  result  in  making  him 
amenable  to  severe  penalties.  He  had,  however,  neglected 
these  well-meant  remonstrances,  and  on  March  2nd  he 
had  handed  the  MS.  of  a  new  play,  entitled  Wedding 
Bells,  to  Mr.  Charles  Greef,  the  manager  of  the  New 
Depression  Theatre,  with  a  view  to  its  acceptance  and 
production.  Mr.  Greet  had,  as  in  duty  bound,  given 
notice  to  the  police,  and  the  present  prosecution  was  the 
result. 

The  chief  witness  for  the  Crown  was  Mr.  Alfred  Ernest 
Dumps,  the  head  of  H.M.  Bureau  of  Dramatic  Experts. 
Mr.  Dumps  deposed  that  he  had  read  Wedding  Bells  care- 
fully. In  his  opinion  it  constituted  a  gross  infringement  of 
the  Act.  To  begin  with  there  was  no  Lancashire  scene  in 
it.  This  was  a  very  grave  matter.  Indeed,  none  of  the 
characters  could  be  said  to  belong  to  a  manufacturing 
district,  nor  did  they  show  the  least  contempt  for  the 
conventional  ideas  of  matrimony.  For  instance,  in  Act  I. 
the  Squire's  son  made  love  to  the  daughter  of  the  village 
blacksmith,  whose  physical  strength  and  tits  of  anger  were 
insisted  on  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  one  some  hope  of  what 
might  ultimately  happen.  But  it  all  came  to  nothing,  for 
in  the  next  Act,  the  girl,  who  had  throughout  shown  a  great 
distaste  for  being  without  marriage  lines,  allowed  herself  to 
be  married  to  her  wealthy  adorer  at  a  London  registry 
office,  and  in  the  last  Act,  in  deference  to  old-fashioned 
local  scruples,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  repeated  in  the 
village  church.  There  was  thus  a  double  offence.  The 
second  marriage  gave  rise  to  what  he  could  only  describe 
as  a  scene  of  perfectly  abandoned  cheerfulness.  There  were 
slippers  and  rice  in  it.  The  postilion  was  undoubtedly 
a  comic  character  and  would  produce  laughter.  The 
atmosphere  was  one  of  gaiety. 

Mr.  Justice  Sparkles.  What  does  the  postilion  say  ? 

Tfie  Witness.  Mostly  "  Gee-woa  "  and  "  Hold  up,  there." 
He  also  cracks  his  whip. 

Tfie  Judge.  I  suppose  that  would  make  a  horse  laugh. 
(Loud  sighs,  instantly  suppressed.) 

His  lordship  said  that  this  was  not  a  theatre.  Laughter 
was  permissible  here.  (Loud  laughter.) 

Cross-examined  by  Mr.  Chaffinch,  K.C.,  the  witness  said 
that  he  had  held  his  present  appointment  since  the  Act  was 
passed.  His  salary  was  £5,000  a  year  in  addition  to  fees. 
The  business  had  greatly  fallen  off,  most  people  having 
reconciled  themselves  to  the  provisions  of  the  Act.  Had 
never  written  a  play  himself.  Might  have  thought  of  doing 


so  when  he  was  young.  Could  not  remember  a  play  named 
Lady  Jellico's  Jewels,  stated  to  have  been  written  by  him. 

Mr.  Chaffinch.  I  call  for  its  production. 

The  Witness.  It  cannot  be  produced  without  my  leave. 

The  Judge.  The  learned  counsel  wishes  it  to  bo  produced 
in  Court,  not  in  a  theatre.  (Laughter.) 

Mr.  Cltaffinch.  This  is  very  serious. 

The  Judge.  If  that  is  so  it  will  not  help  you,  Mr.  Chaffinch. 

Mr.  Chaffinch.  I  was  alluding  to  the  witness's  evidence, 
my  Lord,  not  to  the  alleged  play. 

The  MS.  of  Lady  Jellico's  Jewels  was  brought  into  Court 
under  a  strong  guard  and  handed  to  the  jury. 

Tho  witness,  continuing,  said  he  now  remembered  the 
play.  It  was  written  by  his  uncle. 

Mr.  Chaffinch  (sternly).  I  thought  we  should  drag  it  out 
of  you. 

Various  witnesses  were  called  in  the  prisoner's  defence, 
but  their  evidence  merely  showed  that  he  was  habitually  of 
a  gloomy  and  morose  disposition. 

His  Lordship,  in  summing  up,  pointed  out  to  the  jury 
that  no  evidence  worthy  of  the  name  had  been  given  to 
rebut  the  very  grave  charges  brought  against  the  prisoner. 
What  had  been  said  as  to  the  prisoner's  disposition  was, 
unfortunately  for  him,  not  to  the  point.  It  was  well 
established  that  many  gloomy  men  had  written  mirthful 
plays.  During  the  Victorian  era  it  had  been  observed  that 
clowns,  who  were  wont  on  the  stage  to  compel  laughter  by 
means  of  red-hot  pokers  and  strings  of  sausages,  displayed 
extreme  melancholy  in  the  privacy  of  the  domestic  circle. 
Poems  had  been  written  on  this  incongruity.  No  doubt 
the  jury  had  heard  of  GEIMALDI  (loiul  laughter).  The 
prisoner  might  well  be  a  sad  fellow  (reneived  laughter)  and 
yet  write  a  viciously  comical  play.  They  had  heard  the 
evidence  of  a  great  expert  on  the  subject  of  the  prisoner's 
play,  and  it  was  for  them  to  say  what  they  thought  about  it. 

The  jury  found  the  prisoner  guilty,  with  aggravating  cir- 
cumstances, and  he  was  sentenced  to  a  month's  confinement 
in  the  stalls  of  a  repertory  theatre. 

The  prisoner  declared  that  he  couldn't  survive  it,  and  was 
then  removed  in  charge  of  two  powerful  managers  from 
Manchester  and  Glasgow. 


NON  OMNI  A   POSSUMUS   OMNES. 

["We  have  never  seen  the  '  Turkey-trot '  or  the  '  Tango.'  " 

Pall  Mall  Gazette,  May  20,  1913.] 

WE  've  pleaded  for  a  Tariff  with  the  patience  of  a  JOB  ; 
We've  served  the  cause  of  Empire  in  all  quarters  of  the 

globe ; 
We  've  braved   the  wrath   of   Sultans ;    we  've   giv'n   the 

KAISER  beans ; 

We  've  taught  the  New  Theology  to  bishops  and  to  deans  ; 
We  've  lauded  Federal  Home  Eule  in  many  a  puiple  phrase ; 
We've  greeted  CAKSON'S  policy  with  reams  of  lavish  praise; 
We  've  correlated  Cubism  with  the  classic  phase  of  art, 
And  we  know  the  works  of  NIETZSCHE  and  of  MEREDITH 

by  heart ; 

We  've  written  in  one  morning  nineteen  columns  and  a  half 
On  WAGNER,  SCHOPENHAUER  and  the  death  of  a  giraffe ; 
We  've  smashed  all  previous  records  for  prolixity  of  pen ; 
We  've  slung  more  ink  than  SALA,  though  he  slung  enough 

for  ten ; 

We  've  sounded  all  the  gamut  of  emotions  fierce  and  hot ; 
And  yet  there's  one  annoying  fly  in  our  rich  ointment-pot — 
We  've  never  seen  the  Tango  or  beheld  the  Turkey  Trot. 


Brightening  Cricket. 
"  In  one  over  he  got  twenty-two  6's  and  two  4's." 

Edinburgh  Ei-cniny  Di*j 


MAY  iJH,   l!)i:i.| 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


431 


"  Old  Gallery  Boy  "  writes : — "  THIS  SEW  FASHION  OP  HAVING  THE  ACTORS  GIVE  A  PROCESSION  THROUGH  THE  STALLS  SEEMS  TO 

BE   TAKING    ON.      BEINHARDT   STARTED  IT,   BCT  IT   DON1!  SEEM   TO  ME   DEMOCRATIC.      WHAT 'S   THE   GALLERY  DONE  THAT  IT  SHOULD  BE 
LEFT   OUT?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THERE  was  once  a  man  who  used  to  go  to  a  famous 
restaurant  and  dine  sumptuously  off  fine  linen  and  hors 
d'ceuvres.  That  is  a  course  which  you  might  take 
with  Lord  MILNER'S  introduction  to  The  Nation  and 
the  Empire  (CONSTABLE),  the  collected  edition  of  his 
speeches  compiled  by  his  friend,  Mr.  CHARLES  BOYD.  If 
you  treat  the  hook  in  that  fashion  you  will  not  go  empty 
away,  for  the  reasoned  declaration  of  the  faith  that  is 
in  him  is  the  work  of  a  State's  man  if  ever  there  was  one, 
and  gives  a  vivid  and  complete  picture  of  the  new  and 
true  Imperialism.  But,  if  you  take  a  proper  pride  in  the 
great  little  country  to  which  you  helong,  you  should  keep 
The  Nation  and  the  Empire  by  you,  and  study  with  care 
the  addresses  that  Lord  MILNEK  has  delivered  on  platforms, 
and  in  places  where  they  debate,  in  South  Africa,  Canada, 
and  the  Mother  Country.  In  his  devotion  to  the  principles 
of  Preferential  Trade  it  may  seem  for  the  moment  as  if  he 
had  put  his  money  on  the  wrong  horse.  But  you  never  can 
tell.  If  I  may  express  the  late  HIGH  COMMISSIONER  for 
South  Africa  in  terms  of  Sir  JOHN  BENN  and  Lord 
ROBERTS,  I  should  say  that  the  Progressive  councillor  is  not 
more  anxious  than  he  that  the  bodies  as  well  as  the  minds 
of  children  should  be  the  care  of  the  State,  nor  the  Field 
Marshal  that  its  young  men  should  ho  able  as  well 
as  Billing  to  guard  it  with  their  lives.  Besides  the 
desirability  of  these  two  objects  the  most  lively  impression 
left  upon  my  mind  by  the  study  of  Lord  MILNEB'S  speeches  is 
the  picture  of  a  possible  Second  Chamber,  in  which  none  but 


great  questions  of  Imperial  Unity  and  Imperial  Defence 
will  be  discussed  by  none  but  Imperially-minded  men.  At 
present  we  possess  two  Houses  of  Parliament,  in  one  of 
which  Lord  MILNEB  and  many  others  like  him  cannot  sit ; 
in  the  other  they  have  practically  no  legislative  power  left  to 
them.  Some  day,  perhaps,  we  shall  change  all  that.  But 
meanwhile  we  are  wasting,  as  these  speeches  and  the  whole 
of  Lord  MILNER'S  public  life  show,  a  great  deal  of  good 
material. 

If  ever  I  visit  the  United  States  (which,  without  undue 
prejudice,  I  hope  to  avoid  doing)  and  find  myself  in  any 
difficult}',  I  have  quite  made  up  my  mind  upon  the  best 
course  of  action.  I  shall  sit  down  right  where  I  am  on  the 
side- walk,  and  await  the  advent  of  some  large  and  managing 
female,  homely  but  with  a  heart  of  gold,  who  will  banish 
all  my  troubles  and  generally  play  Providence,  finishing  up, 
as  like  as  not,  by  marrying  me  to  an  exquisite  heiress.  I 
base  my  touching  faith  in  this  phenomenon  upon  a  wide 
experience  of  American  fiction,  where  she  now  appears  the 
most  popular  and  frequent  figure.  Her  latest  embodiment 
is  as  the  heroine  of  Martha  By -The-Day  (GRANT  EICHABDS), 
the  chronicler  of  her  doings  being  Miss  JULIE  M.  LIPPMANN. 
I  hardly  think  I  need  tell  you  the  list  of  these  doings, 
because  you  are  probably  already  familiar  with  them  or 
their  like.  Sufficient  to  say  that  when  Claire  Lang,  a 
young  girl,  "  well-born  but  friendless  "  (to  quote  the  cover), 
found  herself  one  rainy  night  on  a  street-car  without  so 
much  as  five  cents  to  pay  the  fare,  she  gave  the  first 
opportunity  in  the  book  to  Martlia  Slaicson,  the  big,  kindly 
Irish  charwoman,  who  happened  to  be  on  the  same  car. 


432 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[MAY  28,  1913. 


Martha  paid  the  conductor,  rescued  Claire  from  &  grasping 
landlady,  introduced  her  to  her  own  crowded  and  strenuous 
home— and  the  rest  was  plain  sailing.  To  those  who  like 
their  stories  short,  happy,  and  with  lots  of  molasses,  this 
may  be  cordially  recommended.  To  the  others,  not. 

I  see  that  one  of  my  fellow  Learned  Clerks,  reviewing  an 
earlier  novel  by  Miss  SHEILA  KAYE-SMITH,  said,  "  If  I  were  to 
state  exactly  the  position  which  J  believe  this  author  will 
take  among  the  great  masters  of  English  fiction,  you  might 
accuse  mo  of  exaggeration."  After  reading  Me  of  Thorns 
(CONSTABLE)  I  will  commit  myself  to  a  similar  opinion. 
Me  of  Thorns  is  amazingly  good.  It  has  all  the  virtues, 
from  a  swift,  dramatic  narrative  to  the  occasional  humorous 
word  or  line  which  lightens  up  the  whole  page  in  which  it 
appears.  The  characters  are  drawn  with  that  apparent 
absence  of  effort  which  is  the  conscientious  novelist's  reward 
for  bard  work.  The  book  reads  so  easily  that  I  feel  sure 
that  Miss  KA\E-SMITH  was  quite  exhausted  when  she  had 
finished  writing  it.  From  cover  to  cover  it  contains  not 
a  slipshod  line.  The  Isle 
of  Thorns  was  a  ruined 
cottage  in  the  Sussex 
woods  much  frequented 
by  Raphael  Moore,  who, 
till  one  day  he  found 
Sally  Odearne  there, 
fancied  that  life  had 
ceased  for  him  on  the 
death  of  his  wife  ten 
years  before.  Sally  was 
an  amateur  unit  of 
"  Stang-er's  World- 
Famous  Show "  on  tour 
in  the  South  of  England. 
Andy  Baird  presided  over 
Stanger's  rifle-range. 
Sally's  soul  was  torn 
between  Raphael  and 
Respectability  o  n  the 
one  hand  and  Andy  and 
the  Open  Eoad  on  the 
other,  until  Raphael,  dis- 


moving  life.  After  reading  these  stories  I  can  quite  under- 
stand why  gipsies  go  about  singing,  "  Oho  !  oho  !  oho  !  oho  1 " 
as  they  do  in  what  Mr.  Baboo  Jabbcrjee  would  call  the 
"somewhat  musty"  ballad  of  Gipsy  John  (if  my  memory 
serves  me  rightly).  In  their  position  I  should  do  the  same 
myself.  And  yet — surgit  amari  aliquid — something  respect- 
able and  law-abiding  deep  down  in  me  prevents  my  ap- 
proving wholly  of  young  Napoleon.  It  is  all  very  well  for 
Lady  HELEN  GROSVENOR  to  say  in  her  preface  to  this 
volume  that  the  gipsies  are  "  Nature's  gentlefolk."  It  may 
be  so,  yet,  having  weighed  Master  Napoleon  in  the  balance, 
I  shall  certainly  instruct  my  Head  Keeper  of  the  Fowl-Hun 
to  see  that  the  hen-coops  are  securely  closed  whenever  a 
caravan  is  reported  on  the  horizon.  My  Chief  Butler  will 
receive  similar  orders  with  regard  to  the  spoons.  Napoleon 
Doswcll  may  have  been  a  passing  gentlemanly  fellow  from 
Nature's  standpoint,  but  I  fail  to  observe  in  him  that  rigid 
respect  for  the  rights  of  property  without  which  no  one 
can  be  a  real  friend  of  mine.  I  may  say,  in  short,  that 
Napoleon  is  delightful  between  the  stiff  green  covers  of 

— ,  Messrs.  SMITH,  ELDER  & 
•  Co.,  but   in  the   flesh — 
i"  James,  I  think  this  is 
I  young    Mr.    Boswell's 
;  caravan     approaching. 
Lasso  the  Buff  Orpington 
and    place    her    in     the 
safe  ;    and    perhaps    it 
would   be   wise   to    nail 
down  the  house  till  he 
has  passed  by.   We  must 
take  no  risks." 


MASTER    AT   ONCE  ; 


carding   respectability, 

took   to   the   road  himself  and 

salvation   simultaneously.  I 

so  obviously  true    to  life  as   the   chapters   dealing   with  none  other  than 


If  you  would  regain 
your  lost  youth,  Messrs. 
HDDDER  AND  STOUGHTON 
afford  you  the  opportu- 
nity at  the  price  of  one 
shilling  net  (paper  cover) 
or  two  shillings  net 
(cloth).  To  read  Courtin' 
Christina  is  to  revive 
inwardly  all  the  exqui- 


A  HOPELESS   QUEST. 

Cross  Old  Gentleman  (in  tube  station).  "Boy,  I  MUST  SEE  THE  STATION- 
TUB   GUARD   ON  THAT  TBAIN  HAS   GROSSLY  INSULTED  ME  !  "     . 

•  site   pangs    of    joy   and 

won   Sally  and   his   own  [  terror  felt   in   the  pursuit   of   a    very   first    love   or    the 
have  seldom  read  anything  |  execution    of    a    very    first    shavs.      The   philanderer    is 


the  vie  intime  of  Stanger's;  and,  after  laying  the  book 
down,  I  was  perfectly  certain  that  I  had  known  Mrs. 
Cortclyon,  the  tramp,  all  my  life.  "  No,  my  old  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Cortclyon  to  Raphael,  as  they  chatted  over  their 
bread  and  margarine  under  the  hedge, "  the  only  trade  for 
road 
Mr, 

surprised,  young  man,  if  I  was  to  tell  you  the  sphere  we've 
moved  in  and  the  people  we  've  shaken  hands  with.  Mr. 
Cortelyon  and  I  are  most  —  —  particular  as  to  the  company 
we  keeps;  we  have  seen  better  days."  Isle  of  Thorns,  in 
a  word,  is  the  book  you  have  been  looking  for.  In  the 
inspired  language  of  the  great  republic  in  which  I  write 
these  lines,  it  has  the  punch. 


Wee  MacGreegor,  grown  a  little   older, 


a  little  more  intelligible  in  his  speech  and  perhaps  even 
a  little  more  charming  ;  passing  from  dalliance  to 
dalliance,  and  ultimately,  in  the  psychological  spasm  of 
his  soul's  grande  passion,  spending  penny  after  penny  on 
frivolous  and  unuseable  lead-pencils  in  order  to  occupy  and 


d  folks,  if  they  don't  tinker,  is  frightening  women,  and  keep    on    occupying  the  attention  of  the  lady  behind  the 
.  Cortelyon  and  me  don't  hold  with  that.     You  'd  be  counter.     Mr.  J.  J.  BELL'S  skill  in  suggesting  the  character 


In  Napoleon  Boswell  (SMITH,  ELDER)  Mr.  HERBERT 
H.  MALLESON  shows  plainly  an  almost  insolent  familiarity 
with  gipsy  life.  He  is  apt  to  break  suddenly  into  rich 
Romany  :  "  Besh  ale  jukul."  That  is  the  sort  of  remark 
which  Mr.  MALLESON  may  make  at  any  moment  during 
a  casual  conversation  ;  but  dordi  !  dabla  !  mi  dtivzl !  as  we 
say  in  the  caravans,  it  certainly  has  a  fascination,  this 


in  print  is  second  only  to  Mr.  HASSALL'S  in  depicting  the 
figure  on  the  cover  :  to  author  and  artist  Mr.  Punch  presents 
his  congratulations  on  their  respective  feats,  so  apparently 
simple,  so  obviously  inimitable. 


Anticipating  Trouble. 

"  There  will  be  an  orchestra  and  dull  chorus,  the  conductor  being 
Mr.  P.  Choppin." — Folkestone  Herald. 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE.  —  This  week's  issue  of  The  Oulragctte, 
if  folded  into  a  tube,  can  be  used  as  a  serviceable  bomb. 
The  special  "  Militant  Supplement  "  includes  paper  pattern 
of  an  infernal  machine  and  particulars  of  the  new  com- 
petition, "  Explodelets."  Caution. — Before  the  paper  is 
opened  it  should  be  placed  under  water. 


JUNE  4.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


433 


^- 

fSftfnljatjuf/ii//r/f/fft 'IS '////„////  .   //  /    .   / 


"You  KNOW,  JAMES,  BABY  WILL  .wo.v  BE  ASKING  rs  ALT, 

SORTS  OF  QUESTIONS  AND  WANTING  TO  KNOW  ABOUT  EVESY- 
THma.  WE  MUST  PBEPARE  OURSELVES  TO  ANSWER  HIM 
CORRECTLY."  "VERY  WELL,  MY  LOVE!" 


THEY  DO — wrrn  DEPLORABLE  RESULTS. 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  Berlin  wedding  is  said  to  have 
gone  off  without  a  hitch,  and  the 
newspaper  which  issued  the  following 
announcement  on  its  poster  was 
evidently  misinformed  : — 

EVE    OP    THE    WEDDING. 
SCENES. 

The  statement  in  a  contemporary 
that  Princess  VICTORIA  LUISE  and 
Prince  ERNST  AUGUSTUS  were  married 
in  the  presence  of  the  three  greatest 
monarchs  of  Europe  "  has  given  grave 
offence  to  a  certain  Balkan  King  who, 
owing  to  pressure  of  business,  was 
unable  to  be  present. 
••',••  f.- 

Mr,  EOOSEVELT,  in  the  course  of  the 
action  which  he  brought  to  disprove 
the  charge  that  he  was  an  excessive 
drinker,  made  one  admission  which 
came  near  to  wrecking  his  case.  He 
confessed  airily  that  once,  at  the 
Deutsche  Club  at  Milwaukee,  he  took 
"  a  mouthful  "  of  beer.  The  opposing 
Counsel  was,  however,  caught  napping, 
and  omitted  to  request  the  ex -President 
to  open  his  mouth,  known  to  be  an 
exceptionally  roomy  one,  to  its  full 
extent,  so  that  the  jury  might  see  its 
capacity.  ...  ... 

The  rumour  that  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE 
is  aiming  at  the  leadership  of  the 


Liberal  Party  has  received  startling 
confirmation.  The  other  day  Mr. 
ASQUITH  had  his  hair  cut.  At  the 
opening  of  Parliament  last  week  it  was 
noticed  that  the  CHANCELLOR  was 
allowing  his  to  grow  as  long  as  Mr. 
ASQUITH'S  used  to  be. 

Mr.  BURNS  informed  Captain  MURRAY 
in  the  House  of  Commons  last  week 
that  the  question  of  the  prohibition  of 
dazzling  head-lights  on  motor  cars  is 
under  consideration.  The  statement 
has  caused  a  certain  amount  of  uneasi- 
ness among  red-haired  chauffeurs,  and 
Mr.  BURNS,  we  understand,  is  to  be 
asked,  when  the  weather  gets  cooler,  to 
receive  a  deputation  on  the  subject. 

"The  Tea  Party,"  says  Archdeacon 
SCOTT,  "  is  a  mighty  parochial  engine." 
The  Liberal  Party  must  look  to  its 
laurels.  ...  ... 

* 

The  custom  of  presenting  gifts  to 
one's  guests  is  said  to  be  spreading. 
We  must  confess  that  we  have  often 
felt,  after  a  very  dull  and  badly-cooked 
dinner,  that  some  compensation  was 
due  to  us.  ,..  ... 

'  * ' 

"  There  is  not  much  need  of  my  ex- 
pressing any  view  about  those  dances 
which  have  of  recent  date  been  imported 
from  the  Zoological  Gardens  into  the 
London  drawing-room,"  says  Father 


BERNARD  VAUGHAN.  This  slander  on 
those  who  are  not  in  a  position  to  de- 
fend themselves  strikes  us  as  peculiarly 
dastardly,  and  we  trust  that  the  Society 
for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Ani- 
mals will  carry  the  matter  further. 

*'  * 

ENGRACIA  TORRELANO,  of  Ferrol, 
Spain,  The  Express  informs  us,  danced 
the  Tango  at  a  village  fair  while  bear- 
ing a  bucketful  of  water  on  her  head. 
We  understand  that  over  here  this 
dance  is  frequently  perfonned  by  per- 
sons with  a  certain  amount  of  water 
on  the  brain.  ,,.  ... 

The  Strand  Magazine  publishes  a 
symposium  on  the  subject  of  "  The  Sort 
of  Woman  a  Man  Likes."  It  is  said 
that  many  distinguished  gentlemen 
who  were  asked  for  their  views  were 
obliged  to  decline  the  invitation  owing 
to  their  being  married  and  not  wishing 

to  make  trouble  at  home. 
*  =:= 

* 
For  the  following  extract  from   an 

account  of  a  local  Musical  Competition 
we  are  indebted  to  the  Dublin  Evening 
Herald : — 

1 '  In  the  Junior  Organ  the  test  pieces  wcro 
la\  Prigne  in  D  minor,  The  Giant  (Bach) : 
(6)  Prelude  in  A  (Smart),  and  (c)  an  easy  piece 
at  sight. 

Mrs.  Guinness  said  it  would  be  a  great  con- 
venience if  occasionally  the  Committee  had 
the  use  of  the  ambulance." 

This  seems  just  the  occasion. 


vor..  cxi.rv. 


434 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


TO    A   VERY    ORDINARY    MAN, 

who,  having  failed  to  make  any  impression  as  a  bachelor, 
has  now  secured,  in  the  person  of  his  new  wife,  a  dazed 
admirer  of  his  intelligence,  and  treats  her  accordingly. 

Two  months  of  "  wedded  bliss  "  had  fared 

(I  use  the  phrase  to  custom  dear) 
Since  in  those  solemn  rites  I  shared 

That  closed  your  celibate  career, 
When,  Francis,  at  your  kind  request, 

I  came  to  eat  your  mess  of  pottage, 
And  brought  (unasked)  an  eye  to  test 

Your  scheme  of  love-birds  in  a  cottage. 

Dinner  produced  the  signs  I  sought : 

Our  trio  prattled  gay  and  free ; 
But  when  the  theme  demanded  thought 

Your  best  remarks  were  made  to  me ; 
I  gathered,  though  you  loved  her  much 

(And  love,  of  course,  was  all  that  mattered), 
You  wished  she  had  a  lighter  touch 

For  picking  up  the  pearls  you  scattered. 

You  did  not  patently  expose 

This  private  yearning,  need  I  say  ? 
,    For  men  conceal  their  inward  woes 

And  seldom  give  their  wives  away ; 
Indeed,  when  we  discussed  apart 

What  things  to  praise  and  what  disparage — 
Weather  and  EDWARD  GREY  and  Art — 

There  was  no  mention  made  of  marriage.    .^  •. 

Yet  I  divined  the  subtle  change. 

When  mixing  with  our  world  of  men 

Your  wit  had  shown  a  modest  range, 
Nor  soared  above  the  average  ken ; 

And  now  you  owned — and  this  was  odd—- 
An audience  (guaranteed  by  Cupid) 

That  took  you  for  a  little  god, 

And,  in  return,  you  found  her  stupid  ! 

She  may  be  so ;  but  that  conceit 

Comes  with  a  sorry  grace  from  you — 
From  one  whose  wife  salutes  his  feet 

With  deference  well  beyond  his  due  ; 
Rather  be  glad  her  brains  are  small, 

For  would  she  (pardon  my  acidity) 
Ever  have  married  you  at  all 

But  for  her  gift  of  sweet  stupidity  ? 


O.  S. 


"The  complete,  well  perhaps  we  had  better  not  say  complete,  as 
we  can  hardly  believe  that  a  change  so  sudden  and  unexpected  has 
been  full  and  complete,  but  the  result  of  the  inquiry  on  Tuesday 
night  is  a  surprise  to  many  people  to  find  that  after  all  '  Wo  have 
been  and  gone  and  done  for  'em,'  as  the  popular  phrase  goes,  the 
Ashby  representatives  should  turn  round  and  throw  in  their  little 
lot  with  Frodingham  is  a  thing  no  '  fellah  can  understand.'  " 

Scunthorpe  Star. 
Somebody  is  not  well. 


Cabinet  Ministers  who  have  children  experience  no  diffi- 
culty now  in  obtaining  nurses.  Owing  to  kidnapping 
threats,  Scotland  Yard  is  providing  the  nurse  with  an  officer 
whenever  she  takes  the  children  out. 


"  Mulholland  reached  three  figures  in  two  hours  thirty-five  minutes 
His  total  eventually  reached  122,  for  which  he  batted  two  hours 
and  ten  minutes." — Evening  Standard. 

"Mead  out  170.     He  hit  twenty-seven  4's,  four  3's,  and  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty  2's." — Liverpool  Echo. 

And  so  the  brightening  of  cricket  goes  on. 


Mr. 
Mr. 
Mr. 

Sir 


'The 


HOT    WEATHER    HINTS. 

BY  way  of  giving  a  useful  lead  to  persons  suffering  from 

lack  of  initiative  Mr.  Punch  has  collected  the  following 
nteresting  list  of  favourite  drinks  from  a  variety  of  prominent 
)ersonages : — 

Sir  EUFUS  ISAACS  :  Marconibrunner. 

Lord  MURRAY  OF  ELIBANK:   Muinm. 

Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  :  Contangostura  Bitters. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  :  Milestone  Burgundy. 

Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  :  Blenheim  Orangeade. 
J.  S.  SARGENT,  E.A.:  Sparkling  Wertheimer. 
LEO  MAXSE  :  Chateau  Leoville. 
EUDYARD  KIPLING  :  Kiminel. 
W.  EOBERTSON  NICOLL  :  O.  O.  de  vie. 

Mr.  UHE  :  Pommery  cum  Grano. 

Mr.  EEGINALD  SMITH,  K.C. :   Elderflower  water. 

Sir  EDWARD  HENRY  :  Cop's  Ale. 

Lord  NOHTHCLIFFE  :  'Alf-and-'Alf. 

The  MASTER  OF  THE  MINT  :  Creine  do  Menthc. 

Mrs.  HUMPHRY  WARD  :  Marcella. 

Mrs.  ASQUITH  :  Chateau  Margot. 

Mine.  MELBA:  Canary. 

Mr.    HENRY    JAMES  :     Iced    Water   drunk    from 
Utolden  Bowl." 

Mr.  JUSTICE  DARLING  :  Anything  so  long  as  it  is  not 
Vin  de  Grave. 

Some  further  hints,  on  the  subject  of  dress  and  diet,  will 
doubtless  be  appreciated  in  view  of  the  authority  attached 
;o  the  experts  cited. 

Lord  COURTNEY  OF  PENWITH  writes  :  "  When  the  shade 
;emperature  does  not  exceed  70  I  think  that  blue  broad- 
loth  and  a  buff  waistcoat  are  best  attuned  to  the  national 
physique.  When,  however,  this  limit  is  exceeded  I  favour 
;he  adoption  of  certain  modifications,  as,  for  example,  a  white 
tall  hat  and  the  substitution  of  bone  for  brass  buttons  on 
the  waistcoat,  brass  being  a  conductor  of  heat.  In  ex- 
ceptional temperature  a  puggaree  is  a  useful  sartorial 
adjunct,  and  a  white  umbrella  serves  to  mitigate  the  ardours 
of  the  dog  star." 

CAPTAIN  COE  wires  from  Bournville :  "  When  old  Solus 
is  on  the  rampage  I  am  in  the  habit  of  discarding  my 
waistcoat  and  donning  the  cummerbund,  which  adds  a 
natty — or  may  I  say  a  nutty  ? — touch  to  the  costume  of 
the  well-groomed  racing  man." 

Lord  MURRAY  OF  ELIBANK,  in  a  supplementary  dispatch 
from  Bogota,  recommends  white  drill  pantaloons,  a  scarlet 
sash  and  lemon-coloured  alpaca  coat,  with  Afghan  sandals 
and  opanwork  socks. 

Sir  HENRY  HOWORTH  lays  stress  on  abstinence  from  hot 
dishes  and  recommends  pressed  mammoth  as  at  once  safe 
and  sustaining.  The  Mongolians,  he  adds,  are  in  the  habit 
of  placing  a  large  pat  of  butter  on  the  crown  of  their  heads, 
but  insular  prejudice  would  probably  be  fatal  to  the  general 
adoption  of  this  mollifying  practice. 

Finally  Mrs.  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX  sends  the  fol- 
lowing illuminating  quatrain,  penetrated  with  the  noble 
optimism  which  is  at  the  root  of  all  her  lyrical  utterance : — 

"  Let  us  be  patient,  though  the  heat  is  torrid, 
And,  as  we  mop  the  much-perspiring  forehead, 
Determined  not  to  be  faint-hearted  croakers, 
Think  of  the  sufferings  of  Red  Sea  stokers  !  " 


"  Dunn  in  the  third  bout  hit  his  opponent  fairly  on  the  chin,  and 
was  counted  out." — Adelaide  Advertiser. 

The  Referee  (severely) :  "  You  know,  Master  DUNN,  I  told 
you  before  you  started  that  there  was  to  be  no  hitting  about 
the  face." 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHAEIVARL— JUNK   4,    1913. 


THE  GOOD  BOY  OF  THE  EAST. 

TUKKKY  (from  the  corner  in  which  Eitropa  has  put  him).  "I  FEAE,  MADAM,  THAT  OUR  YOUNG 
FRIENDS  ARE  CAUSING  YOU  SOME  EMBARRASSMENT.  BUT,  WHILE  GREATLY  DE- 
PLORING Til  KIR  INSUBORDINATION,  I  REGRET  THAT  I  AM  NOT  IN  A  POSITION  TO 
-KKNDER  ANY  APPRECIABLE  ASSISTANCE  TO  YOUR  AUTHORITY." 


JUNE  4,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


437 


Militant  Suffragist  (after  long  and  futile  efforts  to  UyM  a  fire  for  her  tea-kettle).  •'  AND  TO  THINK  THAT  ONLY  YESTERDAY  I  BURNT 

TWO  PAVILIONS  AND  A   CHURCH!" 


FURTHER  GLIMPSES  OF  CARLYLE. 

(Being  a  hazy  memory  of  Mr.  PERCY 
FITZQEBALD'S  article  in  "  The  Con- 
temporary Review.") 
BEFORE  it  is  too  late  let  me  put  on 
record  my  personal  recollections  of  the 
Wise   Man   of   Chelsea,  for,  with   the 
exception  of  Mr.  FRANK  HARRIS,  I  am 
the  only  one  of   his  intimate   friends 
that    is    still    here.      Between   us   we 
know  all.     If  I  am  less  frank,  reader, 
forgive  me. 

Chelsea  is  no  longer  what  it  was. 
All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  hats. 
In  vain  does  one  search  its  streets  for 
any  of  the  Titans.  We  are  all  pygmies 
now — pygmies. 

Dear  JOHN  FORSTER,  the  great  and 
good,  it  was  he  who  introduced  me  to 
the  Sage.  "  I  send  you  Percy,"  he  wrote 
to  him,  "  a  man  you  must  know."  For 
FOUSTER  always  used  the  imperative 
mathod.  CAULYLE'S  niece  was  im- 
mensely kind  to  me,  hut  she  broke  her 
promise.  She  promised  me  one  of  the 
Sage's  churchwarden  pipes,  but  it  never 
came.  How  could  it?  A  pipe  is  an 
impossible  tiling  to  pack.  And  yet  is 
it?  because,  if  so,  how  did  CARLYLE'S 
own  pipes  get  to  him  ? 


We  had  all  kinds  of  odd  ways 
of  talking  together  in  our  Set.  For 
example,  wishing  once  to  inform  the 
Sage  that  I  had  passed  him  recently 
in  the  West  End,  I  put  it  thus :  "  Sir, 
I  think  I  crossed  you  lately  nigh  Bond 
Street."  As  it  happened  I  was  mis- 
taken, for  CARLYLE  replied,  "No,  no, 
ye  didna.  That  were  my  brither — he 
not  unlike  me."  Observe  the  curious 
construction,  as  of  a  foreigner  learning 
English.  In  his  books  he  could  write 
grammatically  and  even  well;  but  in 
conversation  with  his  intimates,  as  you 
notice,  he  suggested  Prince  Lee'  Boo. 
His  Doric  was  equal  to  every  tax 
put  upon  it  The  greit  and  good  JOHN 
FORSTER  became  in  his  mouth  equally 
"Fooster,"  "Foosther"  and  "Foors- 
ther."  "My  dear  Percy,"  I  remember 
FORSTER  once  saying  to  me  in  his 
hospitable  mansion  at  Palace  Gate — so 
hospitable  that  we  had  to  bring  our 
own  cigars — "can't  you  do  anything 
with  THOMAS  [CARLYLE]  to  make  him 
pronounce  my  name  more  consistently  ? 
It  gets  on  my  nerves,  and  you  know 
what  happens  then."  But  nothing  that 
I  said  to  the  Sage  was  of  any  effect. 
"  Hech,  hech,  hech,"  was  all  he  v/ould 
reply.  "  Puir  wee  blitherer  1  Hech, 


hech,  hech ! "  It  was  really  rather 
serious,  for  the  good  and  great  FORSTER 
in  a  state  of  nerves  was  something 
terrible.  All  Palace  Gate  rocked ; 
chimneys  fell;  the  rooks  in  Kensington 
Gardens  left  their  trees.  Our  beloved 
BROWNING  at  last  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  and  left  the  Set.  A  year  or 
so  later  the  poet  said  to  me,  "  Seen 
FOHSTER?  I  never  see  him  now,"  and 
he  was  gone  before  I  could  reply  to 
the  gracious  query. 

Of  FORSTER  more  ought  to  be  known, 
for  he  was  great  and  good.  I  have 
some  priceless  letters  from  him.  In  one 
he  says — 

The  best  way  to  got  here  is  by  the  omnibus. 
In  another  he  draws  attention  to  the 
bad  weather  with  a  fine  touch  of  vivid- 
ness— 

Isn't  the  rain  terrific? 

But  since  CARLYLE'S  name  is  at  the 
head  of  this  article  I  must  really  pay 
more  attention  to  him.  "  My  guid 
Paircy,"  he  said  to  me  once,  "  dinna 
forget  aught  ah  'm  sayin',  wilt  ?  Pos- 
teerity  will  be  grateful  for  sic  blather  gin 
ye  dish  it  oop."  Hence  those  reverent 
pages.  Hech !  hech  t  hech  1  Eheu 
fu-gaces. 


438 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARL^ 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

A  LUCKY  CUT. 

Park  Lane. 

DEAREST  DAPHNE,— For  your  special 
behoof  your  Blanche  is  going  to  become 
an  author  and  tell  you  a  little  happen- 
ing of  the  moment  as  a  short  story, 
strictly  based  on  fact,  as  people  say  :— 

Mrs.  Golding-Newman  sat  in  her 
opera-box,  a  frown  on  her  brow  and  a 
full-sized  pout  on  her  lips.  Once  more 
the  unhappy  woman  was  all  wrong. 
The  night  before  last 
she  had  been  at  an 
old-fashioned,  tuney 
VEBDI  opera,  wear- 
ing her  high-diamond 
tiara,  her  riviere,  her 
sun,  her  stars,  her 
rope  of  black  pearls, 
and  Olga's  last  word 
in  evening  gowns, 
and  had  found  it 
was  correct  to  wear 
hardly  any  jewels 
and  to  be  .almost 
quite  dowdy !  And 
to-night  here  she 
was  at  a  brand-new 
opera  —  scarcely  a 
tune  in  it,  Trillini 
singing,  the  house 
alight  with  tiaras 
and  rivieres  —  and, 
frightened  by  her 
experience  of  Tues- 
day, she  had  come 
with  a  little  pearl 
fillet  in  her  hair,  a 
small  string  of  pearls 
round  her  throat  and 
a  gown  and  wrap 
that  hardly  spoke 
above  a  whisper ! 
What  can  life  hold 
for  the  wretched 
w  oman  who  has 
made  two  such 
ghastly  mistakes  in 
one  short  week ! 

Nor  was  this  all.  It  was  the  long 
interval  just  now.  Everybody  was 
visiting  Everybody's  box  to  chat  and 
laugh,  while  Nobody  sat  neglected. 
The  corridors  behind  the  boxes  simply 
swarmed  with  people  who  matter,  but 
the  door  of  the  Gelding-Newmans'  box 
found  no  hand  to  open  it.  So  Mrs.G.-N. 
sat  sulking,  while  her  husband,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  lounged  at  the 
other  sid3  of  the  box  and  yawned 
enormously.  "  It 's  a  shame  !  " — that 
was  Mrs.  Golding  -  Newman  finding 
vent  for  her  feelings  in  words  at  last. 
"  It 's  a  cruel  shame !  "  Her  gaze  was 
fixed  on  the  box  where  our  dear  Pansy 
Shropshire,  dressed  in  the  famous 
Shropshire  sapphires,  with  some  little 


additions  of  satin,  lace  and  chiffon,  was 
holding  her  court.  "  A  great  lady,  is 
she  ?  A  duchess,  and  a  leader  among 
the  leaders  ?  But  not  too  great  a  lady 
to  take  my  £5,000  "  ("  Mine,"  corrected 
Mr.  Golding-Newman,  sotto  voce),  "  and 
give  me  nothing  in  return — absolutely 
nothing!  Wasn't  I  given  plainly  to 
understand  that,  if  I  gave  £5,000  to 
her  scheme  for  dressing  all  her  Shrop- 
shire Cottagers  as  Ancient  Britons,  she 
would  open  the  doors  of  Society  to  me? 
And  what  has  she  done?  A  card  for 


Local  Critic.  " 'TAIN'I  'ABF  AS  GOOD  AS  WOT  THE  LIDY'S  DOING  ON  STILTS. 


|  one  of   her  receptions,  at   which  she 

'  spoka  two  words  to  me  and  gave  me 
her  little  finger  to  shake ;  and  the  only 
other  person  I  spoke  to  the  whole 
evening  was  the  footman  who  got  me 

1  my  wrap ! 

"Then  there  was  an  invitation  to  a 
concert,  where  I  was  asked  to  give  up 
my  seat  to  an  old  frump,  who  flounced 
down  into  it  without  even  a  '  thank- 

j  you ! '     And  now  look  at  us  to-night ! 

i  Where's  the  good  of  a  box  on  the  grand 
tier  and  on  the  best  side  of  the  house, 
with  a  view  of  the  royal  box  and  the 
omnibus  box,  if  no  one  comes  near  us  !  " 
Stands  me  in  pretty  heavy,  this 


box,"    commented   Mr.    G.-N. 


'Not 


that  I  'd  grudge  it  if  you  were  enjoving 
yourself,   my  dear,    but   it   seems  you 


ain't.  As  for  me,  I'd  swop  a  dozen 
operas  for  a  good  variety  show,  with 
plenty  of  song-and-dance  turns  and 
first-rate  comics  and  tumbling.  This 
opera  business  don't  appeal  to  me. 
I've  not  heard  a  tune  I  could  lay  hold 
of  the  whole  evening.  And  though  this 
Madame  Trillini  may  be  all  very  well 
when  she  simjs,  when  she  screams  I 
feel  like  stopping  my  ears,  Moggie." 

"Oh,  Robert,  Robert !  Try  not  to  be 
so  awful!  "  moaned  his  wife.  "  What 
you  call  screaming  is  her  wonderful  G 
in  alt  that  everybody 
raves  about.  And 
don't,  don't  call  me 
Moggie  \  It 's  such 
a  fearful,  North- 
country  sort  of  name, 
and  makes  one  think 
of  factories  and 
shawls  and  clogs 
and  Saturday  half- 
holida-ys.  If  people 
called  Margaret 
aren't  called  Mar- 
garet they're  called 
Peggy  by  nice 
people." 

"  All  right,  Mog— 
Peg  —  Margaret  - 
I  '11  try  to  remember. 
But  don't  run  down 
factories,  my  girl. 
If  it  wasn't  for 
factories  and  shawls 
and  clogs  and  Satur- 
day half  -  holidays, 
you  wouldn't  be 
sitting  at  the  opera 
to  -  night,  a  swell 
among  the  swells." 

"  '  A  swell  among 
the  swells  '  indeed  ! 
I  'm  no  more  in 
Society  than  if  we 
were  back  at  our 
house  in  Manchester. 
I  'vo  a  good  mind  to 
-  give  up  trying.  But 
what  I  think  of  her 


I  '11  let  her  know 
first ! " 

*  *  *  * 

The  opera  was  over.  The  Golding- 
Newmans  left  their  box,  she  smoothing 
away  her  frown  as  well  as  she  could, 
drawing  her  wrap  round  her  with  a 
determination  to  do  or  die,  and  mutter- 
ing to  herself,  "  I  '11  let  her  know  what 
I  think  of  her  and  her  methods  the  very 
first  opportunity  I  get !  " 

The  opportunity  chanced  to  be  quite 
handy.  A  number  of  well  -  known 
people  were  chatting  in  the  vestibule, 
among  them  Pansy  Shropshire  and  her 
best  beloved  enemy,  Veronica  St.  Neots. 

"Here  comes  that  weird  little  pro- 
tegee of  yours,  my  dear,"  said  the  latter 
to  the  former,  "  with  that  delightfully 


JUNE  4,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


439 


House  Agent's  Cleric  (in  answer  to  American's  enquiry  for  a  country  cottage).  "  How  WOULD  THIS  SUIT  you,  Sin?    TEN  BEDBOOMS, 

THIUSE   BECEPIIO2I,    STABLES,    CABAGE ?  " 

American.  "  SEE  HEBK,  YOUNG  MAN,  I  AASKED  YOU  FOB  A  COTTAOK,  NOT  A  HOVEL." 


fearful  husband  of  hers  in  tow.     She- '3 
heading  straight  for  you." 

When  the  Golding-Newman  woman 
had  approached  quite  close  to  the  group, 
Pansy  Shropshire  turned  and  bestowed 
upon  her  aoout  the  smallest  nod  of 
j  which  a  duchess's  head  is  capable, 
'  together  with  half  an  inch  of  her 
famous  smile,  and  a  cool,  careless  word 
or  two  of  greeting.  But  neither  nod, 
smile,  nor  words  of  greeting  were  re- 
turned. The  pretty  face  that  didn't 
matter  at  all  looked  steadily,  icily, 
without  the  least  recognition,  at  the 
pretty  face  that  mattered  so  much — and 
Mrs.  Golding-Newman  swept  past  and 
mingled  in  the  crowd. 

"  But  what  an  extraordinary  per- 
formance, dearest! "  said  Lady  St.  Neots 
to  the  duchess.  "  What  does  the  little 
person  mean  by  it  ?  " 

Pansy  only  laughed  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders.  "  How  can  one  say  what 
she  means?  The  ways  of  such  people 
are  past  finding  out." 

I  've  done  it  now ! "  gasped  Mrs. 
Golding-Newman,  as  she  threw  herself 
back  in  her  car.  "  I  don't  care !  It 
\MI-I  irorih  the  £5,000,  though  I  've 
killed  any  tiny  chance  I  may  have  had 
of  over  getting  into  Society !  "  .But 
.there  she  was  mistaken.  v 


"  My  sweet  thing,"  said  Veronica 
St.  Neots  to  me  next  day,  "  I  simply 
nuist  know  this  little  outside  person 
who  gave  dear  Pansy  Shropshire  the 
cut  direct  at  the  opera  last  night.  You 
never  saw  a  cleaner  cut,  Blanche — quite 
to  the  bone !  Really,  you  know,  it  was 
rather  great.  Several  of  us  saw  it,  and 
we  all  say  we  must  know  the  little 
person.  It  was  positively  too  funny 
for  words  to  see  our  dear  Pansy  look 
almost  quite  a  little  foolish  for  one  small 
moment ! " 

"How  lovely!"  I  said.  "I  must 
know  the  little  person  too!  "  ,  , 

And  that  is  how  Mrs.  Golding- New- 
man's social  success  began.  Once  more 
she  is  in  her  box  at  the  opera,  but 
to-night  she 's  perfectly  right.  She  has 
eaten  of  the  fruit  of  the  Mayfair  Tree 
of  Knowledge  of  What's  Done  and 
What  isn't  Done.  She  has  learned  the 
preacher's  lesson — that  there  is  a  time 
to  cast  stones  away  and  a  time  to 
gather  stones  together — and  pub  them 
on  !  She  knows  that  for  an  opera  less 
than  three  years  old,  with  Trillini 
singing,  she  must  wear  her  very  newest 
evening  gown,  with  no  bodice  worth 
mentioning,  and  her  all-round  tiara, 
and  her  riviere,  and  her  sun  and  her 
stars,  and  her  rope  of  black  pearls,  and 


everything  that  is  here.  •  The  little 
outside  person  who  gave  dear  Pansy 
Shropshire  the  cut  direct  has  become 
almost  quite  the  fashion,  and  if  you 
want  her  at  your  parties  you  must  be 
some  one  who  counts ;  and  you  must 
give  her  pretty  long  notice  too,  for  she  "s 
asked  everywhere  and  is  immensely 
particular  as  to  what  she  accepts !  Our 
dear  Pansy  has  good-naturedly  offered 
the  little  person  her  Congrats  on 
her  success  and  the  coup  dcclat  that 
led  to  it  that  night  in  the  vestibule  of 
the  opera-house.  "  It  was  quite  a  clever 
idea  of  yours,"  she  said. 

So  there  sits  Mrs.  Golding-Newman 
in  her  opera-box,  and  once  more  it  is 
the  long  interval,  and  Everyone  is  call- 
ing at  Everyone's  box,  and  the  corridors 
swarm  with  the  right  kind  of  people. 
But  no  longer  is  the  Golding-Newuian 
box  unvisited.  No,  indeed  !  It 's  so 
full  of  people  who  matter  that  Mr.  G.-N. 
has  hardly  room  to  thrust  his  hands 
into  his  pockets  and  yawn,  and  his 
hopes  of  the  box  being  given  up  and  of 
his  being  able  to  "swop  opera  for  a 
good  variety  show  "  have  dwindled  to 
nothing.  And  that,  my  dear,  is  the 
true  inwardness  of  why  a  recent  Out- 
sider has  become  an  Insider. 

Ever  thine,     BLANCHE. 


440 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  191.3. 


"WITHIN    THE    LAW." 

^Without  prrjiiflir  •  to  ;i  very  pli:  iHiint  onlrr- 
hunm.  nt  .il  tin-  iliivin  ul,. -I,  ThMtM 

AI:T  F. 

Edward  Gilder's  n/jicr  ,il.  "  Tin-   I'.ni 
I",  i  inn."     Sarah,   hi*  tiwri-tiiri/,   is 
i/itii-ori'ri'il. 

i'.iih-r  Sinithson,  a  shoj>  ini/L-i'r. 
Smiths-mi.  I  just  looked  in  to  say 
liow  dreadful  it  was  that  Margaret 
Taylor  should  be  a  thief.  Ton  blouses, 
seven  petticoats,  on(!-half  pair  of  silk 
hoso,  twenty-nine  pairs  of — 

^iimh  (hastily).  Yes,  isn't  it  sad  ? 
Sucli  a  nice  girl,  too. 

[Kir  it     Smithson.       Enter     Kdwaid 

Gilder ,niil  his  solicitor,  Demarest. 

Gilili-i.  Well,  so  Margaret  Taylor  is 

committed  for  trial.     Excellent. 

lirinarcst.  All  the  same,  I  can't  help 
thinking  she  's  innocent. 
Gilder.  Why? 

Demurest.  Well—  er— slios^id  so  .  .  . 
and  she '»  the  heroine  of  the  play . . .  and 
what  with' one  thing  and  another.  .  . 

< tildcr  (amazed).  .But  the  things  were 
found  in  her  locker! 

Demarest  (with  superiority).  My  dear 
Gilder,  when  you've  beon  on  tho  stage 
a  little,  longer,  you'll  know  that,  the 
more  innocent  a  heroine  is,  tho  more 


ACT.  II. 
Margaret's  Jlut.      It  in  two  years  Inter, 


mi, I  Miirgarel   in  tin:  ln'itd  of  a  gang 
<>l    i-iiiniiniln ;    two   of   whom,    .Too 
G.irson  mill  Agnus  Lynch,  an  dit 
covered  conversing. 
(lnrni)H.   I  love  her  ! 
Agna.  But  she  is  always   carrying 
o;i  with  Dick  Gild'T.     Wli.i'/'s  her  game, 
I  wonder. 

V.nli'.r  Margaret. 
Margaret.   Well,  any  callers  ? 
Garson    (gloomily).      That  detective 
from   Gilder's.     J    believe  he's  on  our 
track. 

Margaret  (brightly).  But  tlie  law 
can't  touch  us  !  All  our  crimes  are  per- 
fectly legal.  That  last  little  blackmail 


quite    respectably 


things  are  found  in  her  locker, 
look  herc,.sh.o  .wants  to  see  you. 


Bat 

you  bail  her  out?..  Say  the' word  and 

I  'II  go  to  tho  police-court  at  once  and 
fetch   her  hero.      (GiUen.nods.  relnct- 


husiuess    was    done 
through  solicitors. 

Agnes  (aside).  From  the  things  that, 
have  been 'said  about  solicitors  in  this 
play,  I  c'an't  help  feeling  that  one  of 
the  Authors  doesn't  like  them. 

Garson.  Well,  if  that  detective  comes 
hero  again  I  shall  shoot  him  witb  my 
patent  silent  pistol.  (Takes  it  out.) 
I  '11  show  you.  What  shall  I  shoot  ? 

Margaret  (eagerly).  The  green  vase. 
It  was  a  Christmas  present  from  grand- 
mamma. (It  falln  to  ineces.)  At  last ! 


antly.)     Good  man ! 


\Kxit. 


•',  .'  —  |  J  «*v«d 

(nlder  (to  Sarah).  Now  for  a  heavy 
morning's  work.  Hullo,  who's  this? 

[lie-enter  Demarest  with  Margaret 
Taylor. 

Demarc.it  (breathlessly).  I  'vo  been  as 
quick  as  I  could,  but  you  know  how 
slow  the  law  is.  Now,  wo  '11  leave  you 
two  together.  {Exit  with  Sarah. 

GiUtr  (sternly).  Well? 

Meu-gurct  (earnestly).  I  've  coma  to 
toll  you  how  to  stop  these  thefts.  Mr 
GiMer,  givo  your  girls  a  living  waM 
and  they  won't  need  to  steal.  How 
can  we  keep  body  and  soul  together  or 
fourteen  shillings  n  week?  We 're  on 
our  feet  all  day  in  the  shop,  and— 

Oildtr     (xerinn:;/!/     ii  In  mud).     Good 
Heavens!  Is  this  a  GALSWORTHY  play? 


__  .      \ — f  J.    ,       *•'•!        j  i  v  ni/Tti  : 

How  splendid— I  mean,  how  careless 
of  you.     Well,  any  other  news? 

Garson.  Jim  Wade  says  there's  a 
wonderful  tapestry  in  old  Gilder's 
library,  and  he  knows  a  shop  where 


-     ,    „,    xjumrj  Y»  1./H,  |  ji  j     l)llly 

had  no  idsa.  I  thought  it  was 
just — (consulting  /»'"</mmme)  ah  , 
"•".v  right,  (in  gnat  relief)  Look-it's 
adapted  from  an  American  play  by 
UOT  I-'K.NV  and  AIITMI;H  WIM- 
i-Kitis.  (Soothingly)  So  you  see  how 
ibsurd  it  is  to  talk  like  this. 
Margaret  (/»•«//,;«%).  I  know  I 

''    (l"     'I'    again.      What    I    really 


,  •••**'•*•         *•  \JUII  I  V 

'"'-;;(   <"  say  was  this.    (Melodrama 


/{««////     I5"^,;e,  serpent,  for  in  the  next, 
three  Acts  I  ...ill  |lilV(,  mv  ,,,.(,V(,ng&I 

ClIiTAIN. 


they  '11  give  us  a  million  pounds  for  it 
Wo  're  going  after  it  to-night. 

Margaret  (nobly).  Never!  It's  against 
tho  law. 

(i arson  (annoyed).  You  know,  dear, 
I  really  think  you  'd  get  more  sympathy 
from  the  audience  if  you  did  illegal 
things  which  were  morally  right  rather 
than  immoral  things  which  are  legally 
right.  Besides,  you  know  you  want 
your  revenge  on  old  Gilder.  ' 

Margaret  (crossly).  Perhaps  you'd 
like  to  write  tho  play  yourself?  (Stiffly) 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  1  married  Dick 
Gilder  this  morning.  That 's  my  revenge 
on  Mr.  Gilder.  I  have  made  him  mv 
Father-in-law. 

Garson.    Personally  I  still   think 
should  prefer  tho  million  pounds. 
CURTAIN. 


my 

I 


ACT   III. 

Gilder's  Library. 

Gilder    Well,  what  have  you  done  ? 

Lassidy  (the.  detective).  Listen  !  To- 
night Margaret  Taylor's  gang  '  will 

'""  here  to  burgle  the  house.  She 
Will  be  arrested  a.nd  lent  to  penal 
servitude ;  and  -  er  -  (lamely)  as  soon 

the  Majority  Report,  of  the  Divorce 

imimssion  becomes  law  your  son  will 
)o  free. 


Gilder.  Good.  Then  I  shall  t,,l,llo 
Off.  It's  half-past  eleven. 

Cassidy.  Yes,  do ;  the  gang  may  be 
•'  ere  at  any  moment.  Burglars  want 
to  gel  to  bed  so  early  nowadays. 

[Thi-i/  i/n  on/,  niiil    tlii'    stage   is    in 
darkness.   Enter  Garson  and  \V;,de 
Garson.   Well,  I  suppose  they're  HI 
MI  bed  by  now.      IJ'sl,,  what's  that? 

i]nlcr  Margaret. 

Margaret  (dramatically).   I  've  come 
to  save  you!     You    mustn't  steal  the 
I ap::stry  !    It 's  against  the  law.    ( With 
strong  common  sinse)    Besides,  it   will 
probably   be   my  husband's  some  day 
Naturally,  one  doesn't  want   to  1. 
million-pound  tapestry. 

Enter  Dick. 
Dick  (surprised).  Help! 
Margaret.    It 's  all  right,  dear.     I  'vc 
<:om<!  to  send  them  away.    (With  stiddeQ 
suspicion)  Dick,  where  did  that  ttfpe  Irj 
come  from  ?    Bayeux,  or  the  Tottenham 
Court  Road  ? 

Dick.  Tottenham  Court  Road,  dear. 
You  don't  say   you've   come  to 
the  tn/ii-ntry  f      Heaven  Moss  you! 

Garson  (sternly).  Wade,  have  you 
betrayed  us?  You  dog,  take  that. 
(Hefiret,  and  Wade  collapses.) 

Dick.  Quick  !  Givo  me  the  pistol. 
(Takes  it  from  him.)  IS  Ibis  play  h  to 
go  on,  1  must  bo  falsely  accused. 

K nlcr  a  Scotland  Yard  ln^m-lor. 
Inspector.    Richard    Gilder,    I    arrest 
you  for  wilful  murder. 

Dick  (pretending  to  be  much  dis- 
tressed). Bother. 

CURTAIN. 
ACT  IV.— The  Flat. 

Enter  Domarosl. 

Demarest.  Dick  is  remanded  on  bail. 
All  the  same,  J  can't  help  thinking 
lie  's  innocent. 

Margaret.  Really,  this  is  just,  like 
the  First  Act. 

Denuire.it.  Yes,  I  once  thought  \<m 
were  innocent  too.  But  now 

Margaret.   Well,   I  can   prove  that  I 
never  stole  those  things.     Look,  | 
a  confession  from  the  girl  who  did. 

Demarest.  How  very  satisfactory. 
Now  Mr.  Gilder  will  apologise  to  you. 

Hitler  Garson. 

Gin  nun.    And   I  can  prove  thai    bick 
never  shot  Wade.    Because  /  did. 
Demarest.  Better  and  better. 

Hn/i-r  Dick. 

Dick.   And  if  only  Margaret  will  tell 
mo  that  she  has  learnt  to  love  mi 
the  second  Act  (hen  all  will  he  well. 

Uargaret.   Dick,  J   couldn't  tell  you 
a  lie ;  I  do. 

Demarest   (thoughtfully).     [   w. 
why  she  couldn't  tell  him  a  lie.    I 
illegal. 

Dick.    My  wile!   (Hndmn-cn  l«r.) 

<VHT.U\.  A.  A.  M. 


Jl'NK  't, 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


441 


Ml!.   PUNCH    IN    THE    PAST. 

[After  tlic1  enstom  of  several  of  his  e :in- 
temponuies  ;uicl  in  the  muniier  ef  himself. J 

II. 

\I!i'/in»//ii'cd  from  "  Punch"  of  I  KM.  I 

"You've  laid  me  a  stymie!,"  said 
Klvira.  "  I  can't  get  at  the  jack. with- 
out a  little  off  break  bias,  can  1  ?  " 

I  sighed  three  times  in  quick  succes- 
sion. Klvira  laid  down  the  bowl  in 
deep  concern. 

"What's  the  matter?"  she  said. 
"  You  haven't  swallowed  one  of  them, 
have  you?  ". 

"One  of  what?"  I  asked 

She  pointed  to  the, bowl. 

"Don't  be  silly,"  I  said.  "I'm 
wonied  about  these  Constitutions." 

"  You  're  not  going  to  make  that 
joke  about  them  again?"  said  Elvira 
quickly. 

"  It  was  a  rotten  joke,"  I  said. 
"  But,  after  all,  the  Constitutions  of 
Clarendon  are  rottener.  And  they're 
serious." 

"  The  joke  wasn't  funny,"  said  Elvira. 
"  As  for  the  Constitutions,  my  father, 
the  Sieur  Mannering,  was  saying — 

"Yes,  but  he's  not  in  the  Church. 
You  seem  to  forget,  Elvira,  that  I  'in 
in  minor  orders  myself,  and  I  feel  like 
the  dear  Archbishop  in  the  matter. 
Of  course  1  haven't  gone  so  far  into 
the  profession  as  to  prevent  my  marry- 
ing you;  but  all  the  same  the  Con- 
stitutions are  doing  me  out  of  my 
little  privileges,  you  know." 

Elvira  glanced  regretfully  towards 
the  jack. 

"  Tell  me,  dear,"  she  said.  "  I  can- 
not rest  until  you  have  done  so." 

"  It 's  like  this,"  I  said.  "  Supposing 
I  touch  Archie. for  a  rose  noble,  and 
then  won't  pay  up,  what  happens? — 
I  mean,  what  would  have  happened 
hoi'oro  the  Act  was  passed  ?  " 

"  lie  '(1  have  landed  you  one  on  the 
point  of  the  vizor,  wouldn't  he  ?  " 

"  I  'in  talking  about  law,"  I  said 
hastily.  "  He  'd  have  had  to  hale  me  be- 
fore t  ho  Bishop.  And  the  Bishop — 

"  I  know.  You  dine  with  him  some- 
time ;,  don't  you?  " 

"  On  one  occasion  I  week-ended  with 
him."  1  said  with  dignity.  "Anyway, 
wo  clerics  hang  together,  Elvira." 

"  And  now?  " 

"  Well,  now  Archie  coidd  land  me 
m  an  ordinary  civil  court  and  get  the 
money  out  of  me.  It 's  simply  subver- 
sive of  the  dignity  of  the  clergy.  You 
know,  the  country  is.  going  to  the 
dogs."  , 

"  I ;ut  you  always  do  pay  Archie 
back,  don't,  3011  ?  Some  time  or  other, 
I  mo'in  ?  " 

"That's  j:<;{-,  nothing  to  do  witli  it," 
I  declared.  "T!u>  thing  is  — 


Inimitable  Comedian. 

NOBODY   WAS   LOOKlNe.." 


AT    A    CHARITY    MATINEE. 

•On, 


YES,    I    ONCE    WON    A    PRIZE    AT    A    BEAUTY    SHOW— WHEN 

Mabel.  " MOTHER,  is  THAT 


"  The  tiling  is,"  said  Elvira,  flinging 
back  her  long  sleeve  and  stooping  to 
take  up  the  bowl,  "  is  Kent  going  to 
win  the  championship  ?  " 

"  Sir  Kenneth  has  been  jousting 
pretty  well  lately,"  I  said.  "But,  my 
dear  Elvira,  don't  you  see  that  if  the 
Archbishop  goes  abroad  to  appeal  to 
the  Pope  ho  '11  probably  take  the  pick 
of  the  mflca  with  him?  Woolley 's 
pretty  sure  to  go  anyway,  and  Canter- 
bury week  will  be  simply  knocked  on 
the  head." 

"  Oh  I "  said  Elvira,  standing  up 
again,  "  oh,  poor  Kent !  And  you 
always  see  Archbishop  Thomas  in  the 
pavilion  during  Canterbury  week.  Then 
the  Constitutions  of  Clarendon  arc 
serious.  Why  didn't  you  say  so 
before  ?  " 


Gallantry  in  East  Anglia. 

"'When  a  Suffolk  fisher-lad  sets  his  heart 
upon  a  maiden,  he  does  not  beat  about  the 
bust." — Adelaide  Register. 


The   Hurricane. 

Captain  F.  H.  SHAW  in  The  Story- 
Teller  :— 

"They  were  carrying  big  coral  recks  to  the 
selected  site  when,  by  some  misadventure, 
Lortou  dropped  his  end  of  the  stone  they 
handled,  and  caused  it  to  fall  on  do  Vallan's 
foot.  It  was  a  trivial  thing  enough,  but  it 
showed  how  the  wind  blew." 


"Twenty-eight  years'  experience-  combined 
with  a  thorough  philosophical  training  has 
made  our  tuner  thoroughly  qualified.  Only 
ptann  timer  in  India  holding  a  diploma  for 
philosophy." 

Ad'i-l.  in  "  Iiulian  Daily  Telegraph." 

It  is  generally  the  man  next  door  who 
really  wants  the  philosophy;. 

From  a  letter  on  "The  Tamniiii 
Camp"  in  the  Kalyoorlii-  Miner : 

"The  fines  put  on  for  the  least  breach  of  dis- 
cipline were  altogether  too  high.  For  instance, 
a  peisenal  friend  of  mine  was  fined  10s.  for 
tickling  an  officer  on  the  back  of  his  neck  with 
a  straw  while  we  were  standing  '  easy.'  " 
Dash  it,  one  can't  amuse  oneself  any hoio. 


442 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


HINTS   TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW   TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

I.    WEAR  COSTUMES  DESIGNED  BY  M.  LEON  BAKST,  WHO,  \VE  HEAE,  is  ADDING  TO  nis  TRIUMPHS  is  THE  FIELD  OF  KUSSIAX 

BALLET  BY  CHEATING    MODELS    FOB  A  PARISIAN   MODISTE. 


FORTY    WINKS    IN    FLEET   STREET. 

(An  epistle  to  Charles  on  the  difference  between  his  day-dreams  and  mine.) 

And  now  on  the  shingly  beaches 
Where  rollick  the  tiny  chicks, 
And  the  harvest  of  nuts  and  peaches 

By  favour  of  Ceres  mix,  - 
By  the  esplanades  of  the  shining  sea 
It  is  there,  it  is  there  that  my  soul  would  be 
If  I  paused  for  a  moment's  reverie, 


So  you  think  of  the  white  dog-roses, 

Dear  Charles,  in  the  lap  of  June, 
When  you  do  drop  off  into  dozes 
At  your  desk  of  an  afternoon ; 
You  fancy  you  see  the  leaping  trout 
In  the  long  dark  pool  as  the  day  draws  out, 
And  you  turn  from  the  telephone's  ugly  spout, 


And  the  price  of  some  share  in  the  market  gives  place  to 
the  stock-dove's  croon. 

That  is  all  very  well  for  the  City,' 

Where  sentiment  still  lives  green, 
And  it  sounds  most  awfully  pretty, 
But  I  cannot  imagine  the  scene : 
Lush  dells  where  the  early  nightingale  sang 
And  the  dog-rose  bloomed  with  a  glittering  fang, 
They  are  done  with,  Charles,  they  are  clean 

gone  bang, 
They  are  phantasies  unremembered  by  The  Topical  Magazine. 

Our  brains  are  a  finer  tissue  ; 
We  build  for  a  future  day ; 
You  will  notice  in  this  month's  issue 

An  article  dealing  with  hay  ; 
Long  sinco,  ere  the  green  buds  tipped  the  larch 
We  passed  it  for  press  in  the  front  of  March, 
And  the  girl  on  the  cover  (my  hat !  she  was  arch). 
When  the  frost  set  type  on  the  window,  we  broidered  with 
blossoming  may. 


For  we  're  tackling  the  August  number.     How  .seftly  that 
typewriter  ticks ! 

Without  there  is  noise  of  'buses 

And  noise  of  the  creaking  wain, 
.     And  a  silly  old  bluebottle  fusses 

Inside  on  the  window-pane ;    , 
And  the  sky  is  rimmed  by  a  hundred  roofs 
And  round  and  about  is  a  litter  of  proofs 
Stamped  deep  with  the  stamp  of  the  devil's  hoofs, 
But  beyond,  through  the  noise  of  printers,  loud  roars  the 
ineffable  main. 

And  the  cornfields  are  bright  with  poppies ; 

Behold  how  they  wink  and  burn  ! 
And  the  leaves  on  the  sun-parched  coppice 

Are  dusty,  and  dim  the  fern  ; 
And  two  months  on,  O  Charles,  when  you  pine 
For  heathery  moors  or  the  open  brine, 
Your  visions  will  still  be  quite  different  from  mine, 
For   our  Grand  Double  Xmas  Number  will  then  be  our 
chief  concern.  EVOE. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.-JuNK  4,   1913. 


TOO    MANY    PIPS. 

(to  Liori>  GEORQE}.  "FUNNY    THING,    MATE;     'E    DON'T    SEEM   TO    KNOW   WOT '8 
GOOD    FOB    'IM.      WE    SHALL    'AYE    TO    TRY    AGAIN." 

[Mr.  ASQUITH  has  promised  a  Bill  to  amend  tho  Insurance  Act.] 


JUNE  4,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


445 


nr  D&DI  IAMPMT  !  «'"f,f"'iu'»  replies,  nervous  Members  House  of  Lords,  Wednesday. — Fore- 
Uh  KAKLIAIVI  tN  I .  i  think  t,)e  princjpi0  of  repression  might  gathering  on  Monday  after  well-earned 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.)  ijO  carried  in  another  direction.  With  !  holiday,  noble  Lords  were  depressed  by 
House  of  Commons,  Tuesday,  May  27.  [the  chamber  full  of  unaccustomed  :  knowledge  that  they  had  lost  com- 

— Sittings  resumed  after  Whitsun   He-  .sunlight;    GEOFFREY    HOWARD'S    spats  !  panionship  of  cheery  Lord  ASHBOURNK. 

cess.      Pretty    good    attendance    con-  j  sparkling   at   the   Bar  "give  one   the  To-day  the  bells  are  tolling  again,  telling 

sidering  splendour  of  summer  weather ,  blink,"  as  ALPHEUS  CLEOPHAS,  who  is  of  death  of   another   highly  esteemed 

lately  bursting  over  town    and 

country.  Some  notable  ab- 
sentees. PREMIER  still " at  sea," 

a  situation  which  has  for  him 

the  charm   of   novelty;    sitting 

on  deck  at  feet  of  LORD  HIGH 


ADMIRAL  he  learns  how  to  splice 
the  main -brace  and  master 
mystery  of  sailor's  knot.  His 
quick  mind  perceives  possibili- 
ties of  application  of  principle 
to  replies  to  inconvenient  ques- 
tions. To  construct  a  smooth 
answer,  appaiently  easy  (really 
difficult)  to  unravel,  might  on 
occasion  be  convenient. 

In  Chief's  absence  lead 
assumed  by  CHANCELLOR  OP 
EXCHEQUER,  whose  ruddy 
countenance  suggests  that,  tem- 
porarily relieved  from  business 
connected  with  that  mysterious 
entity,  the  Land  Committee, 
he  has  been  playing  golf  in  the 


colleague,  Lord  AVEBUBY.  Im- 
possible to  conceive  two  men, 
equally  gifted,  more  widely 
separated  by  ways  of  thought 
and  personal  manner.  ASH- 
BOURNE  bubbling  with  fun, 
boyish  in  manner  and  talk ; 
AVEBURY  prim  in  manner,  quiet 
in  speech,  convinced  that,  since 
there  is  no  authentic  evidence  of 
jokes  disturbing  the  equanimity 
of  a  beehive,  mankind  would 
do  well,  if  not  absolutely  to 
eschew  them,  at  least  rigorously 
to  limit  indulgence  in  them. 

Though  no  sluggard  AVEBURY 
from  time  to  time  went  to  the 
ants  and  learned  something  of 
their  busy  orderly  ways.  Whilst 
still  with  us  in  the  Commons 
he  not  infrequently  contributed 
wise  sayings  to  debate.  His 
principal  legislative  achievement 
was  the  passing  of  the  Bank 


WINSTON  shows  the  PitEMiEB  how  to  splice  the  main-brace. 

Tropics.     Front  Opposition  Bench  in  '  coming  to  the  front  again,  picturesquely  '  Holiday  Act,  with  which  his  name  will 
sole    possession    of     WALTER    LONG.  |  put  it.  over  be  associated.     Found  less  inviting 

BONNF.R  LAW  at  Queen's  Hall  explaining ' 
to   Women's    Amalgamated    Unionist 
and    Tariff    Reform   Association    that 
"  We  are  the  National  Party." 

Curiously  depressed  air  about.  Mem- 
bers enter  on  tiptoe ;  greet  each  other 
in  whispers.  Suggest  on  Ministerial 
side  that  they  have  come  to  bury  Home 
Rule,  not  to  hurry  it  through  psnulti-  give  little  nod  of  satisfaction  and  retire  i  saw  and  spoke  with  him  a  fortnight 


That  a  detail.  Oflarger  moment  is  the  j  opening  in  the  House  of  Lords.  But 
fact  that  to  see  the  VICE-CHAMBERLAIN  .  up  to  recent  date  was  constant  in 
OP  THE  HOUSEHOLD,  standing  at  the  attendance,  patient  in  attention  to 
Bar,  hands  delved  deep  in  trousers'  speeches  not  all  attraetive.  Like  most 
pockets  (habit  suggestive  of  mistrust  of  old  Commoners  transplanted  to  tha 
esteemed  colleague,  THE  CHANCELLOR  Lords  he  frequently  revisited  the 
OP  THE  EXCHEQUER,  watching  him  care-  glimpses  of  the  illuminated  ceiling  of 
fully  totting  up  forces  on  either  side),  the  Chamber  across  the  way.  SARK 


mate  stage  by  process  of 
formal  Committee  with 
opportunity  benevolently 
provided  for  "  making  sug- 
gestions." 

Almost  the  sole  live  person 
on  the  premises  is  GEOFFREY 
HOWARD,  Vice-Chamberlain 
of  His  Majesty's  Household, 
Parliamentary  Private  Secre- 
tary to  the  PRIME  MINISTER 
(unpaid),  one  of  the  team  of 
Ministerial  Whips.  Familiar 
habit  with  him  to  enter 
House  from  time  to  time, 
stand  at  Bar  and  take  stock 
of  both  sides.  In  performance 
of  this  duty  a  pair  of  spats 
of  immaculate  whiteness 


before  adjournment  for  holi- 
days. Much  struck  by 
evident  signs  of  breaking- 
up  in  the  still  slight,  upright 
figure. 

Though  ever  ready  when 
called  upon  to  take  part  in 
debate  in  the  Lords,  espe- 
cially on  Irish  questions, 
ASHBOURNE  did  his  best  work 
in  the  Commons.  To  other 
charms  of  oratory  ho  added 
a  mellifluous  brogue.  His 
countryman,  Lord  MORRIS, 
used  to  speak  slightingly 
of  the  gift,  hinting  that  it 
was  surreptitiously  acquired 
and  secretly  nourished.  That 
probably  personal  jealousy ; 
himself  being  master  of  a 


O.NE  WAY  OF  FILLING  THE  Fnoxi  OPPOSITION  BENCH. 
A  suggestion  for  Mr.  WALTER  LONG. 

plays  prominent  part.     By  chance  this !  to  Whip's  room,  inspires  general  feeling  MORRIS 

ulitvnoon    Captain    MURRAY,    careful ,  of  security.    As  ROBERT  BROWNING,  had  !  brogue    in    which    you   could    almost 
for    safety   of   his    fellow-men,    draws ;  he  lived  in  the  Parliamentary  world, '  wade  up  to  knees. 

from  :  might  have  put  it,  GEOFFREY  HOWARD'S 
on  \  at  the  Bar ;  all 's  well  with  the  Party. 


attention     to     danger     arising 
dazzling     glare     of     head-lights 
motor  cars.     As  question  is  put,  and 


Business  done. — ATTORNEY-GENERAL 


PRESIDENT    OF    LOCAL    GOVERNMENT!  moved   Second   Reading   of   Appellate 
BOARD,  with  rare  use  of  first  person  |  Jurisdiction  Bill.     Debate  adjourned. 


House  of  Lords  is  the  poorer  by  the 
passing  of  two  of  the  oldest  and  most 
highly  esteemed  of  our  Parliament  men. 

Business  done. — Ancient  Monuments 
Bill  reported,  with  amendments. 


44G 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


Friday. — Pleasant  example  of  spir 
of  knightly  chivalry  that  underlies  Part 
conflict  forthcoming  in  action  taken  b 
FRED  HALL— whom  the  Question-Pape 
is  careful  to  particularise  as  "(Duhyich) 
— in  matter  of  ceremonial  recognitio: 
duo  to  FIRST  LOUD  OF  ADMIRALTY 
Naturally  WINSTON,  howsoever  win 
some,  is  not  personally  a  favourite  in 
Unionist  camp.  Never  forgotten  that  h 
once  belonged  to  it ;  loss  sustained  by  hi 
desertion  fully  realised  only  when. on 
contemplates  .his  brilliant  services  undo 
the  enemy's  flag.  To  the  generous 
minded  that  rather  incentive  to  keene 
jealousy  on  bis  behalf  than  of  desire 
to  see  him  flouted.  FBKD  HALL 
surveying  the  world  from  his  eyrie  a 
Duhvicb,  has  watched  Mediterranean 


"I" — the    PRKSIDEXT     OP     THE     LOCAL 
GOVERNMENT  BOARD. 

cruise  of  FIRST  LORD.  Observed  that, 
on  landing  at  various  ports,  he  was 
received  by  the  authorities  with  some 
show  qf  ceremonial  welcome.  Here 
and  there  a  gun  has  gone  off  and  a  flag 
of  welcome  run  up  at  masthead. 

This  does  not  satisfy  the  punctilious 
mind.  OLIVER  TWIST  (Dulwioh)  asks 
for  more.  After  some  expenditure  of 
midnight  oil  he  drafted  a  question 
addressed  to  SECRETARY  OF  WAB 
demanding  to  know  "if,  under  the 
regulations  of  the  War  Office,  the 
First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  is  entitled 
to  any  spscial  ceremonial  recognition ; 
if  so,  what  is  the  nature  of  the  same ; 
and,  if  there  is  no  sucli  special  recog- 
nition, whether  he  will  take  steps  to 
ensure  that  the  high  position  occupied 
by  the  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  is 
adequately  recognised." 

Might  reasonably  be  expected  that 
representative  of  Government  would 
readily,  gratefully,  grasp  this  hand 


stretched  across  sea  of  Party  politics 
And  what  response  does  SKKLY  make' 
Casually  reads  from  paper :  "  This  matte 
is  governed  by  paragraphs  1807  anc 
1810  of  the  King's  Eegulations.  Then 
is  no  intention  of  amending  them." 

Nothing  more.  FBBD HALL  (Dulwioh) 
limpid  in  seat,  resumed  in  expectation  o 
rather  making  a  s-'core.  Eeally  no  us< 
preparing  the  parlour  for  the  fly  and  art 
lessly  inviting  him  to  enter  if  he  won't 

Business  done. — Second  Beading  o 
Government  of  Scotland  Bill  moved. 


WONDERS' WILL  NEVEE  CEASE 

.    •    •  -*•  .«... 

["Mr.  T.  P.  O'CoNNon,  who  during  his 
recent  visit  to  Paris  was  approached  by  leaders 
of  tho  Armenian  community,  and  subsequently 
had  interviews  with  leading  French  Ministers 
and  politicians,  pressed  upon  Sir  K.  GRKY  the 
importance  of  ensuring  the  future  safety  anc 
good  government  of  the  Armenian  Christians 
as  part  of  tho  post-war  settlement." — Daily 
Chronicle,  May  30,  1913."] 

WHILE  thunder  crashed  and  lightning 
flashed  I  dreamed  a  dream  last  night 

Which    filled    my    anguished    bosom 
with  unspeakable- affright :' 

I  dreamed  I  saw  Lord  HALSBURY  pro- 
posing to  elopa  '•'• 

With  Mr.  ARTHUR  BENSON  to  assassi- 
nate the  POPE.  • 

I  dreamed   that  Mr.  HANDEL  BOOTH 
was  made  Lord  Chancellor, 

While  SHAW  succeeded  SEELY  as  the 
Minister  for  War. 

[  dreamed  that  Mr.  CADBURY  bestrode 
the  Derby  winner, 

And  then  invited  EUFUS  and  the  CHES- 
TERTONS  to  dinner. 

[  dreamed  that  bold  BEN  TILLETT  was 
created  an  Archbishop, 

While  LULU  went  to  Whitechapel  to 
manage  a  fried  fish  shop. 

.  dreamed  I  heard  LLOYD  GEORGE  in 
most  indignant  tones  rebuke 

A  Welshman  who  had  spoken  some- 
what harshly  of  a  Duke. 

'.  dreamed  that  Mr.  MASEFIELD  wrote 
a  novel  all  in  prose, 

Without  a  single  swear-word  from  the 

opening  to  the  close, 
dreamed  that  ALEXANDER  ceased  to 
stretch  and  press  his  bags, 

And  appeared  at  the  St.  James's  in  a 
garb  of  tattered  rags. 

0  gentle  reader,  do  not  treat  this  record 

with  derision; 
^10  facts   of  daily  life  are  far   more 

strange  than  any  vision  ; 
'or   I   saw   it   clearly   stated    in    The 

Chronicle  to-day 
'hat  the  cause  of  the  Armenians  had 

been  championed  by  "TAY  PAY." 

The  Inevitable. 

'LoriD  JUSTICK  FAREWELL  RETIRES." 
Yorkshire  Kvcuinj  News. 


TAKING  THE  PLUNGE. 
AT  seven  o'clock  I  climbed  out  o_ 
bed  and  looked  anxiously  at  the 
weather.  The  sun  was  shining  from 
a  cloudless  sky  and  the  breeze  was 
soft  and  balmy.  From  a  chestnut-tree 
a  thrush  cried  cheekily,  "  Get  up,  yoi 
lazy  beggar !  G  et  up,  you  lazy  beggar  1 ' 
1  put  on  my  swimming  costume  anc 
dressed  hastily  on  the  top  of  it.  "  Gooc 
boy !  "  remarked  the  thrush  encourag- 
ingly as  I  stepped  into  the  street;  and 
fluttered  off  to  tell  his  wife  about  it. 
1  breathed  deeply  and  happily ;  surely 
Hi  is  was  the  ideal  morning  for  the 
first  bathe  of  the  season.  ' 

But  somehow  the  world  seemed 
changed  when  I  reached  the  front. 
The  sun  still  shone  brightly,  (lie  sky 
was  still  cloudless,  the  breexo  was  still 
soft  and  balmy,  but  the  sea  looked  wet, 
with  that  nasty  cold  wetness  sugges- 
tive of  drowned  men.  By-and-by,  when 
I  was  bending  over  the  de<k,  it  would 
become  warm  and  inviting,  and  more 
fortunate  people.  .  .  .  • 

I  went  into  the  tent  and  began  to 
undress.  But  my  enthusiasm  had  com- 
pletely died  out.  Instead  of  throwing 
off  garment  after  garment  with  the  speed 
of  a  music-hall  performer,  I  lingered 
dubiously  over  buttons  and  things. 
Why  not  go  back?  I  asked  myself. 
Why  not  postpone  it  for  another  week 
or  two?.  There  was  no  compulsion 
about  it.  I  was  my  own  master.  After 
all,  a  man  must  be  a  fool  to  do  a  dis- 
agreeable tiling  for  no  reason. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  reflected,  tho 
irst  plunge  was  always  beastly,  and 
[  knew  from  experience  that  the  sooner 
one  got  it  over  the  better.  And  what 
would  those  people  on  the  beach  think 
of  me  if  I  turned  back  now  ?. 

A  mood  of  reckles-s  daring  came 
upon  me  suddenly.  Without  giving  ib 
time  to  fade,  I  dashed  out  of  the  tent 
ind  ran  to  ;vards  the  "sea  at  top  speed. 
The  few  early  promenaders  gave  me 
a  mi«hty  shout  of  encouragement. 
[  smiled  my  acknowledgments  and 
airly  hurled  myself  into  the  water. 

Br-r-r-r,  it  was  cold!  1  swam  out 
lesperately  a  dozen  yards,  turned,  and 
leaded  for  the  shore,  gasping.  Another 
errific  shout  went  up  as  I  reappeared 
on  the  sands.  Good  fellows !  They 
•ecognised  a  plucky  act  when  they  saw 
t.  I  waved  my  hand. 

And  then  I  realised  that  I  was  still 
vearing  my  shirt. 


"Mr.  Lough  then  rose,  and  delivered  an 
xhaustive  speech  on  the  watchwords  of  tlio 
liberal  party — '  Pence.  Retrenchment,  and 
leform.'  " — Hampshire  Chronicle. 

'Pence"  seems  an  understatement  for 
'ayment  of  Members  at  MOO  a  year. 


Jl'NK    4,     I'.H.'i. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


447 


UPON    A 
TIIK  DKVOUT  LOVKII. 

OMT:  upu;i  a  time  theie  was  a  fox 
who    full    in    lovo  with   a   pretty   iittk 
vixen.     He  called    her  Sweet  Auburn 
anil  in  the  small  hours,  when  all  the 
\\orld  was  asleep,  I  hey  went  for  delight 
ful  b trolls  together  and  talked  a  deal  ol 
pleasant  nonsense. 

One  day  she  casually  mentioned  her 
approaching  birthday,  which  chanced 
to  be  on  May  the  15th  ;  and  when  he 
expressed  his  intention  of  giving  her  a 
present  she  said  she  would  like  nothing 
so  much  as  gloves. 

"  What  colour?  "  he  asked. 

"  Purple,"  she  said  ;  and  he  agreed. 

"  With  white  and  purple  spots  in- 
side," she  added;  and  he  agreed  again. 

"  And  lined  with  glistening  hairs," 
she  called  after  him ;  and  he  agreed 
once  more. 

When,  however,  he  told  his  mother, 
the  old  lady  was  discouraging.  "  They  're 
not  out  yet,"  she  said,  "fox-gloves 
aren't." 

His  mother  was  a  widow.  An  un- 
fortunate meeting  with  the  local  pack 
had  deprived  her  for  ever  of  her  beloved 
chicken  -  winner.  She  had  however 
brought  up,  with  much  pluck  and 
resource,  her  family  unaided. 

"  You  '11  never  get  them  by  the  15th," 
•he  added, "  that 's  a  fortnight  too  early." 

"But  I  must,"  replied  her  son,  with 
the  impetuosity  and  determination  of 
youth. 

"  You'll  never,"  said  his  mother. 

Undismayed  he  set  forth  and  searched 
the  countryside  for  fox-gloves.  He 
found  many  plants  in  various  early 
of  growth,  but  none  even 
approaching  the  right  condition  for 
exhibiting  thsir  stock-in-trade. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  said  his 
mother,  and  the  day  drew  nearer. 

He  extended  his  travels,  but  in,  vain, 
until  one  morning,  at  about  a  quarter 
to  live,  when  he  ought  to  have  been  at 
home  again,  he  came  upon  a  stalk 
which  actually  had  buds  on  it.  Care- 
fully marking  the  spot  he  rushed  back 
with  the  news. 

"  But  how  can  blossoms  be  ready  in 
four  days  ?  "  he  asked  his  mother. 

"  Intensive  culture,"  said  the  old 
lad.  "  There  's  nothing  but  that." 

I   don't  know   what    you    mean," 
said  her  son. 

"  Of  course  not ;  you  're  only  a  child. 
It  means  you  must  supply  heat  and 
nourishment.  You  must  curl  your 
warm  body  round  that  stalk  every 
nrening  as  soon  as  the  sun  sets  and  lie 
there  without  moving  till  the  sun  's  up, 
and  you  must  water  the  roots  with 
your  tears.  On  no  account  must  you 
move  or  uar>." 


Voice  (from  above).  "  WILD  DUCK,  ONE." 

CJie/(itiJtoh(isJiadaboboiiforaplacc).  "Yics;    BUT  WHAT'S  SECOND  AND  THIRD?" 


"  Really  ?  "  he  asked  nervously. 

"  If  ^ou  truly  love,"  said  his  mother. 

"I  wonder,"  he  thought;  but  after 
paying  another  visit  to  Sweet  Auburn 
he  knew  that  he  did,  and  he  promised 
her  the  gloves  for  a  certainty. 

Late  on  the  evening  of  the  loth, 
when  Sweet  Auburn  had  almost  given 
him  up,  he  staggered  into  her  abode, 
wan  and  weary,  and  laid  a  pair  of 
superb  gloves  at  her  feet.  They  were 
a  beautiful  purple  lined  with  glistening 
hairs  and  they  had  white  and  purple 
spots  inside. 

"  Many  happy  returns',"  he  said. 
"They're  absolutely  the  first  of  the 
season.  You'll  be  able  to  set  the 
fashion." 

"Best  of  boys!"  she  replied,  em- 
bracing him,  and  named  the  happy  day. 


OH,   OH!     DAPHNE! 

YES,  she  is  fair ;  the  rose  that  burned 

In  EVE'S  bright  garden  flames  anew 
In  Daphne's  cheek,  nor  ever  earned 
A  form  by  sculptor's  cunning  turned 
Such  praise  as  is  her  due. 

Look  in  her  eyes ;  clear  pools  are  they 

Where  innocence  and  wonder  meet, 
As  if  she  marvelled  to  survey 
A  world  that  spreads  by  day  and  day 
Fresh  gladness  at  her  feet. 

'Yet  trust  her  not,  for  yestere'en, 
With  careless  or  with  shameless 
•    hand, 

;  When  bunkered  near  the  second  green, 
She  grounded  (as  she  thought,  unseen) 
Her  niblick  in  the  sand. 


418 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

1  THE  PERFECT  GENTLEMAN  "  AND 

"  ARIADNK  IN  NAXOS." 
THE   distinguished    actor-impresario 


who    controls    the 
Majesty's    Theatre 


destinies    of 
would    have 


His 
had 


moreof  all  our  compliments  for  thinking 
of  bringing  over  to  us  Le  Bourgeois 
Gmtilhofome—The  Perfect  Gentleman, 
as  Mr.  MAUGHAM  elects  to  translate  it — - 
if  he  hadn't  so  freely  mislaid  the  good 
man  on  the  way.  Sir  HEKBERT  TKEE'S 
passion  for  buffooning  tended  to  obscure 
the  original  (and  his  own  talent)  and 
thereby  set  the  whole  comedy,  or,  rather, 
the  selected  part  of  it,  in  a  false  key. 


For  the  Jourdain  I  remember, 
snobbish,  ignorant,  credulous 
certainly,  is  altogether  a  simpler 
and  pleasanter  fellow,  is  not  sure 
enough  of  himself  to  be  anything 
like  so  boisterously  vulgar,  yet 
remains  every  bit  as  funny.  Sir 
HERBERT  was  often  nearer  to 
Sir  Gorgius  Midas  than  to 
Jourdain.  There  were  many 
outrageous  gags  and  a  general 
clamour  and  restlessness  of 
movement.  Sedulous  of 
"  action "  in  this  crude  sense, 
Sir  HERBERT  is  unmindful  of 
the  equal  and  opposite  reaction 
— on  his  audience  or  a  silent 
part  of  it.  Where  a  gesture  or 
an  intonation  might  serve,  a  gag 
is  brought  forth  or  an  acrobat 'c 
contortion  executed  with  almost 
mournful  thoroughness.  Most 
surely  improvisation  in  the  idiom 
and  atmosphere  of  another  age 
is  too  hazardous  a  game  to  be 
worth  the  scandal  of  betraying 
one's  author.  But  the  veteran 
actor  takes  a  genuine  pleasure 
in  these  exercises,  and  surely 
no  one  of  the  audience  could 
have  enjoyed  the  jocund  rout  so 
thoroughly.  Ariadne..  .. 

Mr.  PHILIP  MKRIVALE  as  Dorante  in  '  astonishing 


musicians  rave,  and  surely  could  have 
carried  their  point  by  explaining  that 
titled  people  do  not  have  it  so.  How- 
ever they  conveniently  forget  this  old 
trump  card,  so  we  find  poor  Ariadne 
(Fraulein  EVA  VON  DER  OSTEN)  on 
her  desert  Naxos  anything  but  lonely 
by  reason  of  the  intrusive  sympathies 
of  Zerbinetta  and  of  Harlequin,  Scara- 
muccio,  Truffaldino,  and  Briglie.Ua,  her 
four  lovers.  Tactfully  disregarding  their 
existence  she  sings  (divinely)  with  in- 
terruptions, till  Bacchus,  who  had,  I 
think,  from  his  towels,  been  bathing  in 
the  neighbourhood,  arrives  in  his  canoe 
and  consoles  her.  The  really  spirited 
piece  of  acting  of  the  evening  was  the 


generally  unresponsive  fowls  perched 
on  branches  R.  and  L.  to  wake  to  life 
and  begin  to  bow ;  nicer  still  of  one  of 
them  to  strike  work  and  to  need  coaxing 
back  to  life  by  an  attendant.  These 
things  help  the  guileless  convention  of 
Opera.  And  I  had  some  fun  out  of 
wondering  whether  Bacchus  (Herr 
MARAK)  or  Ariadne  would  be  the  first 
to  get  a  flickering  piece  of  golden  snow 
w-ell  in  the  mouth  in  the  middle  of  a 
top  note.  6. 

LOVE   IN   A  HEAT  WAVE. 
(The  Bard  to  his  Betrothed.) 
O  PHYLLIS,  let  your  attitude 

For  once  be  tolerant  and  kind  ; 
Allow  a  little  latitude, 

Permit  your  man  to  change 
his  mind. 


When  I  and  things  were  other- 
wise, 

I  took  you,  did  I  not,  to  task  ? 
"  That  you  should    love  me 

brotherwise 

Ts  not,"   I  told  you,   "  what 
I  ask. 

"  Don't  hold  yourself  so  rigidly 
When  I,  in  turn,  would  be 
caressed ; 

Don't  look  at  things  so  frigidly, 
But  let  us  have  a  little  /e.4.' 

"  Although  my  love  is  willing,  it 

Requires  a  modicum  of  heat; 

You  can't  preserve,  by  chilling, 

it, 

As  if  the  thing  were  foreign 
meat ! 

"  Desert  your  bleak  and  barren 

height 
Of  pride  and  dignity;  aspire 


his  brave  blue  suit,  and  Miss  NEILSON- 
TERRY  in  her  gay  brocade,  made  a  very 
pleasant,  pretty  and  appropriate  pair. 
Mr.  ROY  BYFORD  pulled  his  lesson  of 
the  Master  of  Philosophy  out  of  the 
general  racket  into  some  sort  of  reason- 
able shape,  while  the  tailors'  pas  do 
quatre  was  entirely  satisfactory.  Herr 
RICHARD  STRAUSS'S  brilliant  incidental 
music  nourished  high  expectations  of 
his  Ariadne  in  Naxos  (to  Hen-  VON 
HOFJIANNSTHAL'S  libretto),  which  was 
to  take  the  place  of  the  original 
"  ballets  "  and  "  Turkish  ceremonies." 
It  is  built  on  a  pleasantly  fantastical 
idea.  Jourdain,  who  provides  the 
opera  for  his  aristocratic  friends,  orders 
that  harlequinade  and  opera  shall  pro- 
ceed together  to  save  time.  The 


AN  ANGLO-GERMAN  ENTENTE. 

Voice  of  Moliere  (in  the  icings,  heard  ditrinj  performance  of  rn     -,*      Hpmwa  nf 

the,   MAUOHAM-STRAVSS-HOFMANNSTHAL  combination  at  His  ±o^  ".„" 
Majesty's).  "  I  hope  I  don't  intrude."  O;''  briefly,  show  a  little  fire. 

I  do  not  seek  to  vindicate, 

But  rather  pray  to  have  forgot 
That  view  I  dared  to  indicate 
In  winter — when  it  wasn't  hot. 

So  far,  my  Love,  from  cherishing 
A  more  than  foolish  bard's  advice, 

Keep  cool,  nay  cold,  nay  perishing  ! 
Oh,  be  a  very  berg  of  ice  ! 


account     given,    in    gor- 


geously embroidered  song,  of  ber  love 
affairs  by  Zerbinetta  ^Mlle.  BOSETTI). 
The  tuneful  buffooneries  of  her  com- 
panions diverted  me  very  much.  Of 
the  higher  mysteries  of  the  music  I 
hare  not  the  right  to  speak,  but  it 
delighted  me  throughout.  The  com- 
poser seemed  to  throw  down,  as  it 
were,  amid  his  not  always  intelligible 
complexities,  challenging  passages  of 
limpid,  exquisite  melody  (such  as  the 
trio  of  Naiad,  Dryad  and  Echo  greeting 
young  Bacchus)  much  in  the  spirit  of 
TURNER  pointing  to  his  iridescent  fish 
with  "  They  say  TURNER  can't  colour !  " 
Most  sweet  and  mellow  was  Fraulein 
HOFFJIAN-ONEGLN'S  alto  in  this  and 
other  beautiful  passages.  It  was 
charming  of  the  two  faithful  but 


"A — W — .,  the  murderer,  has  been  sentenced 
to  death  by  elocution  in  New  York." 

Polynesian  Gazette. 

Ill  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the 
missionaries,  the  Polynesian  mind  htill 
dwells  lovingly  on  the  idea  of  death  by 
slow  torture. 


"New-hid  eggs,  direct  from  vicarage  {owl-,." 
Advt.  in  "  Ghunh  Tiincx." 

How    superior   they   must    bo   to    the 
ordinary  "lay  "  egg. 


JUNK  4,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


449 


THE    NEW    INDUSTRY. 


EXPERT  BOMB-I-ICEEES  AT  WOUK  IK  THE  EABLY  nouns  OF  THE  HOMING. 


THE   SUPERIOR    DRAMATIST. 


THERE  is  a  dream,  a  wild  delicious  dream, 

A  dream  that  ever  soothes  me  when  depressed, 

Starts  me  afresh,  and  pours  the  kindly  cream 
Of  healing  on  my  lacerated  breast ; 

A  hopo,  half-disillusioned  as  I  am, 
That  sticks  to  me  like  jam. 

I  will  expound.     In  me  you  may  behold 
A  Great  Unacted.     Plays  of  every  sort 

I  have  put  out,  but  managers — a  cold 

And  shallow  folk — deny  their  due  support. 

Indeed,  they  send  me  back  my  every  play 
With  "  Thank  you,  not  to-day." 

I  am  too  good  for  them.     My  subtle  charm 
Little  appeals  to  men  of  their  gross  earth. 

My  intellect  repels  them  in  alarm  ; 

How  should  they  understand  ?   Their  ribald  mirth 

Is  awed  to  silence  by  my  silver  wit ; 
They  cannot  tackle  it. 

But  I  go  on,  unchecked,  towards  the  goal, 
Having,  I  say,  a  dream  that  serves  to  heal 

Their  blows  on  my  unconquerable  soul. 
I  know  I  am  superior ;  I  feel, 

Genius  will  out ;  true  merit,  such  as  mine, 
Is  bound,  at  last,  to  shine. 

A  day  will  come,  ha,  ha ! — to  use  their  own 
Vile  jargon — when,  with  one  fell  swoop,  Success 

Will  fold  me,  and  accept  me  for  her  own  ; 

When  the  whole  London  and  provincial  Press 


Will  raise  me  up,  and  thronging  herds  delight 
To  cram  the  house  each  night. 

And  when  these  paltry  managerial  worms 
Come  round  me,  fawning  (as  they  ever  do), 

Seeking  a  boon,  a  play  on  any  terms ; 

While  I,  on  that  one  work  or,  may  be,  two, 

Sit  softly  and  grow  rich  beyond — oh,  bliss ! — 
The  dreams  of  avarice ; 

Then  calmly  I  shall  deal  to  each  of  them 

A  play  apiece ;  and,  when  they  hug  the  prize, 

Mouthing  their  parts,  as  gloats  on  some  rare  gem 
The  "  fence  "  with  lust  of  profit  in  his  eyes, 

I  from  my  greater  height  shall  look  them  o'er, 
And  frame  this  classic  score : — 

There  was  a  time  when  it  was  mine  to  beg, 

And  these,  which  you  refused,  were  going  cheap ; 

But,  now  the  boot  is  on  the  other  leg, 

You  shall  not  have  them,  howsoever  you  weep; 

It  is  my  humour  that,  for  future  days, 

No  one  shall  act  my  plays.  DuM-DuM. 


"Lord  Leith  of  Fyvio's  fine  steam  yacht  'Miranda'  arrived  at 
Dartmouth  last  evening. 

"Lord  Leith  of  Fyvie's  fino  steam  yacht  'Miranda'  arrived  at 
Dartmouth  last  evening." — Devon  Evening  .Express. 

These  twin  statements  occur  in  a  column  headed  "  Dart- 
mouth Echoes,"  and  rightly,  for  No.  2  is  one  of  the  best 
echoes  we  have  heard. 


450 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


CELEBRATED  TRIALS. 

III.— REX  v.  BASKEKVILLB. 

THE  prisoner  in  this  case  was  Henry  Satterthwaite 
Baskerville  Bones  Basket-vine,  who  was  charged  with 
having  (1)  expressed  his  disgust  at  the  Bunny  Hug; 
(2)  written  a  letter  denouncing  the  Turkey  Trot  and  the 
Tango  ;  (3)  displayed  a  complete  ignorance  of  the  Boston  ; 
(4)  with  having,  contrary  to  the  statute,  endeavoured  to 
dance  a  wait/,  and  a  polka;  (5)  with  being  a  suspected 
person  found  loitering  with  intent  to  commit  a  quadrille. 

The  Court  was  crowded  with  debutantes,  chaperons, 
duchesses,  marchionesses,  ticket-holders  for  subscription 
dances,  men  about  town,  and  young  dancers  of  both  sexes 
from  the  suburban  districts.  Mr.  Mazy,  K.C.,  and  Mr. 
Lighto  appeared  for  the  Crown.  Prisoner  was  defended  by 
Mr.  Hobnail,  K.C.,  and  Mr.  Triptrain ;  while  Mr.  Z  weipfennig 
held  a  watching  brief  for  the  dancing  editor  of  The  Times. 

At  the  opening  of  the  court  Mr.  Justice  Onestep  made  an 
earnest  appeal  to  the  public  to  restrain  the  expression  of 
their  feelings  during  the  course  of  the  proceedings.  No 
doubt  the  prisoner  was  charged  with  the  commission  of 
very  heinous  offences,  but  it  was  a  salutary  principle  of 
English  law,  thereby  differentiating  it  favourably  from  the 
law—if,  indeed,  he  might  so  term  it— of  foreign  countries, 
that  every  man  must  be  presumed  to  be  innocent  until  he 
was  proved  to  be  guilty.  He  begged  the  jury  to  concentrate 
their  minds  on  the  evidence  and  to  forget  anything  they  might 
have  heard  or  read  which  could  in  any  degree  prejudice 
them  against  the  prisoner.  He  thought  it  right  to  make 
this  preliminary  appeal  because  he  knew  that  the  case  had 
excited  profound  interest  amongst  all  classes. 

It  appeared  from  the  opening  statement  of  Mr.  Mazy 
that  the  prisoner  was  a  member  of  an  ancient  and  most 
respectable  family  settled  in  the  Midlands.  He  had  been 
educated  without  any  special  discredit  at  Eton,  and  had 
thence  proceeded  to  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  His  studies  at 
this  seat  of  learning  had,  however,  been  curtailed  owing  to 
an  incident  which  affected  one  of  the  authorities.  A  tutor's 
oak,  had,  in  fact,  been  painted  over  with  a  bright  vermilion 
colour,  and  the  prisoner,  having  failed  to  explain  his 
possession  of  a  paint-pot  and  brush,  was  rusticated,  or,  in 
other  words,  expelled  from  his  college.  He  had  then 
removed  to  London,  and  for  a  year  or  two  had  taken  part  in 
the  pleasures  of  the  town.  It  would  be  proved  that  he  had 
frequented  balls  and  had  very  often  danced  waltzes.  He 
(the  learned  counsel)  did  not  say  this  with  the  intention  of 
bearing  hardly  on  the  prisoner.  The  jury  would  remember 
that  in  the  days  of  which  he  spoke  such  dances  were  still 
permissible,  there  being,  strangely  enough,  no  legislative 
enactment  to  prevent  them. 

His  Lordship.  Autres  temps  autres  mceurs,  Mr.  Mazy. 

Mr.  Mazy,  K.C.  No  doubt,  my  Lord,  that  would  be  so. 

The  learned  counsel,  continuing,  said  that  he  himself, 
and,  if  he  might  presume  to  say  so,  his  Lordship  also, 
looked  hack  with  horror  upon  a  misspent  youth.  Their 
eyes,  however,  were  now  open,  and  they  realised  their  fault, 
though  that  fault  was  due  to  ignorance.  At  that  time,  in 
short,  nobody  in  England  had  heard  of  the  new  dances, 
and  no  blame  could  attach  to  those  who  danced  the  old 
ones. 

His  Lordship.  It  was  customary  at  one  period  to  burn 
witches. 

A  member  of  the  public.  And  a  good  job,  too. 

His  Lordship.  Remove  that  man. 

The  man  having  been  duly  removed,  Mr.  Mazy  proceeded 
to  say  that  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  the  prisoner  had  left 
England  for  Africa,  where  he  had  remained  for  eighteen 
years.  He  had  been  heard  of  in  places  as  widely  separated 


from  one  another  as  Nigeria,  Basutoland  and  Uganda. 
Last  year  he  had  suddenly  come  home  and  had  renewed 
his  intimacy  with  some  of  his  old  friends.  One  of  these, 
Lady  Richard  Kagg-Tempest,  happened  to  be  issuing  in- 
vitations to  a  dance,  and  sent  the  prisoner  a  card,  lie 
came,  but  after  the  first  dance  he  expressed  himself  to  his 
hostess  in  violent  terms  of  condemnation  with  reference  to 
what  he  had  seen.  Failing,  naturally  enough,  to  obtain 
any  satisfaction  from  her  ladyship,  he  shortly  afterwards 
left  the  house.  On  the  following  morning  he  was  arrested, 
after  a  violent  struggle,  in  which  two  dancing  masters  were 
seriously  injured. 

His  Lordship.  How  do  you  propose  to  prove  the  animus 
saltandi  ?  We  know  that  bcne  or  male  does  not  matter, 
but  the  animus  is  essential. 

Mr.  Mazy.  In  his  letter  of  acceptance  the  prisoner  staled 
that  he  was  eagerly  looking  forward  to  the  party  and 
intended  to  dance  every  dance.  That  letter  is  in  court  and 
will  be  produced. 

The  first  witness  was  Lady  Richard  Ragg-Tempest.  Her 
ladyship  gave  her  evidence  with  great  reluctance.  She 
deposed  that  after  the  first  dance,  which  was  a  Boston 
varied  by  Bunny-Hugs,  Turkey  Trots  and  Tangoes,  the 
prisoner  came  up  to  her  and  said  these  things  were  an  out- 
rage and  wouldn't  be  tolerated  in  Uganda.  He  also  said 
he  had  tried  to  waltz  and  polk  to  the  ridiculous  tune,  but 
had  failed,  mainly  owing  to  the  unwillingness  of  his 
partner. 

His  Lordship.  She  deserves  the  thanks  of  the  coin- 
munity. 

Witness,  continuing,  said  she  reasoned  with  the  prisoner, 
having  known  him  in  his  younger  days,  but  found  it  useless. 

Mr.  Hobnail,  K.C.  (in  cross-examination).  Was  he  serious? 

The  Witness.  He  was  so  serious  that  I  thought  he  must 
be  joking. 

After  several  other  witnesses  had  been  examined,  Mr. 
Hobnail,  who  announced  his  intent'on  of  calling  no  evi- 
dence, made  an  eloquent  speech  in  defence,  and  his  Lord- 
ship summed  up  at  great  length.  The  jury  were  away  for 
half-an-hour.  When  they  returned  the  foreman  said  their 
verdict  was  "  Not  guilty,"  with  a  rider  strongly  recom- 
mending the  prisoner  to  mercy.  Before  the  Judge  could 
stop  him  he  said  this  was  a  compromise  agreed  to  by  all  of 
them. 

His  Lordship  (to  the  prisoner).  You  have  been  lucky  in 
having  a  middle-aged  and  merciful  jury.  Let  this  be  a 
warning  to  you.  You  are  discharged. 

CHIVALRY. 
IT  was  not  caution,  Captain,  it  was  not 

Fear  that  the  swiftly  flying  ball  might  sting ; 
The  trifling  detail  that  the  drive  was  hot 

Was  not  enough  to  make  me  drop  the  thing ; 
Nor  was  it  lack  of  skill,  for  understand 
That  skill  and  I  go  ever  hand  in  hand. 

No,  I  recalled  a  day  of  wondrous  bliss 

Last  June,  when  double  figures  graced  my  name, 
And  how  this  batsman  whom  I  chanced  to  miss 
Dropped  me  (when  nothing)  in  that  glorious  game. 
My  sense  of  gratitude  is  always  nice ; 
A  "  life  "  demands  a  "  life."     I  paid  the  price. 

The  Pursuit. 

"  One  of  the  best  testimonials  to  the  training  which  the  young  ladies 
received  was  contained  in  the  report  of  the  London  University  ins]  n  rt  or, 

who  proclaimed  to  the  world  that  over  half  of  those  who  hud  left 
the  school  had  found  husband?,  so  eagerly  were  they  sou-lit  alter." 

Daily  Graphic. 
The  inspector  will  explain  what  he  meant  next  week. 


JUNE  4,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHAR1VAHI. 


451 


i, 


" PLEASE,  TEACHER,  MOTHER  BAYS  CAN  ALBERT  DAVID  BIT  BY  'ISSELF  THIS  MORMN',  'cos  'E 's  GOT  A  TOUCH  o'  THE  MEASLES?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  CONFESS  to  a  prejudice,  based  upon  painful  experience, 
against  transatlantic  fiction.  I  admit  this  the  more  readily 
because  I  am  about  to  prove  that,  confronted  with  work  of 
real  and  outstanding  merit,  it  becomes  a  thing  of  naught. 
Unfortunately  such  occasions  are  rare.  The  more  honour 
then  to  Virginia  (HEINEMANN),  before  whose  compelling 
charm  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  unconditional  surrender. 
Miss  ELLEN  GLASGOW  has  not  so  much  written  a  story — 
though  this  also — as  created  a  single  character,  complete 
in  absolutely  human  form.  Virginia  herself,  as  girl,  wife 
and  mother,  one  seems  to  have  known  as  a  personal  friend ; 
to  have  admired  her  youthful  beauty,  and  seen  it  change 
and  develop  into  the  matured  charm  of  the  woman.  Other 
women,  or  I  am  mistaken,  will  specially  appreciate  her. 
The  history  of  her  life  I  do  not  propose  to  tell  you,  beyond 
sa\  ing  that  it  is  one  in  which  emotion  plays  the  part  of 
incident.  Nothing  in  the  remotest  degree  sensational  ever 
happens  to  her.  Quite  early  in  the  book  she  marries  the 
lover  of  her  choice,  Oliver,  the  romantic  young  playwright 
whose  mission  in  life  is  to  regenerate  the  American  drama, 
a  mission  in  which  his  wife  vaguely  and  quite  uncompre- 
hendingly  believes.  Then  children  como,  and  (when  Oliver 
has  cynically  abandoned  his  dreams)  prosperity ;  and  one 
day  Vir/jinia  finds  that,  in  thinking  more  of  her  nursery 
than  her  husband,  she  has  lost  him.  But  she  has  still  her 
son.  That  is  practically  all  that  happens ;  yet  the  human 
tenderness  of  its  telling  is  beyond  praise.  Throughout  I 
was  haunted  by  a  wish  that  Virginia  could  have  been  drawn 


for  us  by  Du  MAURIEB,  who  could  have  done  her  justice. 
If  American  novels  are  going  to  display  such  quality  as  this, 
their  historical  definition  as  "  dry  goods "  will  become 
meaningless. 

You  get  quite  a  fine  impression  of  an  amazingly  vital 
personality,  "  a  great-hearted,  simple,  lovable  and  fiery 
soul,"  in  Mr.  AKTHUR  COMPTON-RICKETT'S  William  Morris, 
which  Mr.  HERBERT  JENKINS  publishes  in  a  pleasant 
volume.  It  presents  a  view  taken  from  outside  the  charmed 
and  privileged  circle  of  MORRIS'S  old  acquaintance  and  is 
therefore  not  without  a  new  interest.  If  you  have  to  pass 
through  a  little  veil  made  of  the  parenthetic  diversions  of  the 
literary  gentleman  marshalling  his  knowledge  and  com- 
parisons, you  '11  find  there  are  intimate,  even  trivial,  records 
of  fact,  which  help  to  build  up  the  composite  portrait  of 
this  poet,  painter ;  dyer,  dreamer ;  printer,  weaver  ;  revolu- 
tionary, tradesman,  friend,  which  his  admirers  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  accepting.  Never,  surely,  was  man  so  dowered 
with  divers  gifts  without  any  touch  of  charlatanry  or 
amateurishness.  The  author  is  at  some  pains  to  trace 
the  influences  that  worked  on  MORRIS,  and  the  compiled 
synopsis  of  events,  literary  and  political,  in  parallel  with 
the  stages  of  his  subject's  life,  is  interesting  and  valuable. 
"Less  the  artist  than  the  artist-citizen,"  is  happily  said  in 
reference  to  the  genuine  altruism  which  illuminated  MORRIS 
and  which  is  so  rarely  a  characteristic  of  the  artist.  He 
was  indeed  a  big  man,  not  wrapped  up  in  his  own  bright 
visions  of  beauty,  but  infinitely  anxious  to  share  them  with 
the  many ;  a  splendid  democrat  of  an  uncommon  type, 
whose  influence  still  happily  works  as  a  leaven  amongst  us. 


402 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  4,  1913. 


And  we  don't  readily  tire  of  hearing  about  him.  But  I  wish 
tliat  the  fastidiousness  which  made  Mr.  CoMrTON-BiCKETT 
write  "tenour"  had  saved  him  from  the  deadly  "pheno- 
menal," and  "  phenomenally." 

Miss  HAMILTON  has  in  Mrs.  Brett  (STANLEY  PAUL)  a 
subject  of  a  most  difficult  delicacy,  and,  although  her  tale  is 
interesting  and  human  from  the  first  page  to  the  last,  I  do 
not  think  that  she  has  slain  her  dragon ;  but  I  like  the 
directness  and  simplicity  of  her  treatment.  Her  four 
characters,  Mr.  Brett,  Mrs.  Brett,  Judith  Brett  a.n&_  Peter 
Dampicr  have  that  free,  spontaneous  movement  that  proves 
them  to  be  something  more  than  the  puppets  of  a  novelist's 
toy  theatre,  and  I  am  especially  grateful  to  her  for  not 
insisting  too  stridently  on  her  Indian  background.  Occa- 
sionally someone  will  say,  "Syce!  Tattoo  lao!"  and  of 
course  polo  and  punkahs  decorate  the  scene ;  but  there  is 
a  fine  reticence  in  her  sharp  and  disciplined  method.  She 

I  gives  us  a  picture  of  two  women,  mother  and  daughter,  and 

'  finds  her  situations  in  the  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  mother 
to  keep  the  daughter 
from  a  catastrophe  that 
had  once  '  broken  her 
own  life  into  pieces. 
Judy  Brett  is  a  clever 
study,  but  it  lacks  that 
final  touch  that  would 
have  set  her  completely 
before  the  reader.  I 

I  waited  eagerly  for  the 
scene   that    would  lift 

1  the  whole  episode  into 
sharp,  poignant  drama, 
and  that  scene  never 
came.  Miss  HAMILTON 
intended  to  make  her 
drama  out  of  the 
reader's  discovery  of 
passion  in  the  patient 
figure  of  Mrs.  Brett,  but 
at  the  last  her  power 
failed  her.  The  situa- 
tion of  the  young  man 
who,  having  been  badly  treated  by  the  daughter,  finds,  to 
his  own  surprise,  that  he  loves  the  mother,  once  defeated 
THACKERAY,  and  has  now  proved  too  difficult  for  Miss 
HAMILTON.  Nevertheless,  Mrs.  Brett  is  a  book  that  deserves 
success  for  its  humanity,  its  humour  and  its  restraint. 

Though  so  much  has  been  written  and  read  upon  the 
same  theme,  I  am  glad  to  welcome  The  Life  and  Letters  of 
Jane  Austen  (SMITH  ELDER)  as  another  contribution  to  our 
knowledge  of  one  of  the  most  attractive  figures  in  literature. 
Naturally  Messrs.  W.  and  E.  A.  AUSTEN-LEIGH'S  book  is 
one  impossible  of  criticism  in  a  paragraph.  One  can  but 
say  that  it  is  a  good  book,  preserving  much  of  the  quiet 
charm  of  its  heroine — and  leave  the  matter  there.  Largely, 
of  course,  it  is  based  upon  the  well-known  Memoir  (by  the 
father  and  grandfather  of  the  present  writers) ;  but  there  is 
also  much  new  matter.  The  sub-title  of  the  volume  is 
"  A  Family  Record,"  a  note  that  is  emphasised  to  the  point 
of  unconscious  humour  by  the  Preface,  in  which  the 
authors  acknowledge,  with  a  quaint  air  of  proprietorship, 
the  public  interest  in  their  famous  relative.  For  the  matter 
of  the  contents,  quotation  is  the  only  comment.  I  must 
however  content  myself  with  only  one  brief  extract  from 
a  letter  written  by  JANE  to  her  sister  CASSANDRA  in  1813  : — 
"  Upon  Mrs.  D.'s  mentioning  that  she  had  sent  the  Rejected 
Addresses  to  Mr.  H.,  I  began  talking  to  her  a  little  about 


Guard  (as  train  starts).  "Now  THEN,  EOMKO,  'UHRY  DP 


them,  and  expressed  my  hope  of  their  having  amused  her. 
Her  answer  was,  '  Oh  dear,  yes,  very  much,  very  droll 
indeed — the  opening  of  the  House  and  the  striking  up  of 
the  fiddles ! '  What  she  meant,  poor  woman,  who  shall 
say?  I  sought  no  farther.  The  P.'s  have  now  got  the 
book,  and  like  it  very  much ;  their  niece  Eleanor  has 
recommended  it  most  warmly  to  them — she  looks  like  a 
rejected  addresser."  Surely  this  strikes  a  human  note,  to 
which  no  one  who  has  ever  spoken  of  a  favourite  book  in 
unworthy  company  can  fail  to  respond. 

The  Reverend  Albert  Thompson,  in  Pity  the  Poor  Blind 
(CONSTABLE),  was  "  the  son  of  a  musician  who  had  married 
beneath  him  or,  more  strictly,  of  a  piano-tuner  who  had 
become  wedded  to  an  actress."  He  took  to  the  Church  in 
London  as  a  means  of  self-advancement,  and  relied  less  on 
any  deep-seated  belief  than  on  his  inherited  gifts  of  a  rich 
deep  voice  and  dramatic  gesture.  Berenice  Chote  was  the 
daughter,  of  a  loose  and  lively  house  in  a  village  oh  the 
Dorset  coast,  as  far  apart  in  every  way  from  the  parson  as  one 

mortal  could  possibly 
oe  from  another.  Only 
Providence  or  an  un- 
usually gifted  author 
could  hope  plausibly  to 
hring  the  twain 
together,  so  that  their 
lives  might  become 
inter  -  dependent  and 
their  progress  might 
react  upon  each  other. 
The  affair  could  not 
have  been  in  better 
hands  than  those  of 
Mr.  H.  H.  BASHFORD, 
whom  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  describe  as  a  master 
novelist,  born  for  the 
job  and  clearly  in- 
spired. Ho  has  infinite 
humour  and  no  pre- 
judices; his  characters 
are  unmistakably  alive 
and  his  sense  of  atmosphere  is  such  that  one  feels  and 
resents  the  change  -of  air  when  the  history  takes  one,  for 
a  time,  from  Kilridge  to  town.  As  for  the  story,  any 
attempt  to  epitomize  it  here  would  be  as  futile  and  mis- 
guided as  the  process  of  compressing  one's  whole  existence 
(and  that  of  many  other  people)  into  a  three-line-to-a-day 
diary.  It  is  a  slice  of  variegated  and  vivacious  life,  leading 
to  ends  you  might  not  expect  but  must  eventually  accspt ; 
moreover  it  is  a  worthy  successor  of  the  author's  earlier 
work,  A  Corner  of  Harley  Street,  published  a  year  or  so  ago 
but  by  no  means  yet  forgotten. 


"Fish  (2)  for  Sale,  one  £75,  one  £50,"  runs  an  advertise- 
ment in  The  Daily  Chronicle.  The  clanger  of  this  form  of 
abbreviation  is  that  an  ignorant  person  forwarding  the  cash 
may  find  himself  in  possession  of  a  couple  of  fishmongers' 
businesses  instead  of  the  material  for  a  simple  breakfast. 


"  Mr.  M'Kenna  was  accompanied  by  throe  Scotland  Yard  detectives, 
who  accompanied  him  to  Penrhos,  Lord  Sheffield's  Anglesey  seat, 
where  he  will  stay  unlit  after  to-night's  Disestablishment  meeting." 

Liverpool  Daily  Post. 

We  welcome  this  official  pronouncement  (if  such  it  is)  from 
the  W.S.P.U.,  and  rejoice  that  the  HOME  SECRETARY  is  safe 
from  personal  arson. 


Jl'NK  11.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


403 


CHARIVARIA. 

IT  is  some  timo  since  relations  he- 
twoen  our  country  and  Gecmany  have 
boon  as  friendly  as  at  the  present 
moment.  It  is  appreciated  in  Germany 
that  the  KAISKR'H  kindness  in  rele&siog 
the  British  officers  has  been  most 
handsomely  acknowledged  by  the  action 
of  the  Canadian  Senate  in  rejecting  the 
BORDKN  Navy  Bill. 


A  Bill  to  give  Home  Rule 
£500,000  to  Scotland  passed  its 
second  reading  in  the  House  of 
Commons  last  week.  It  is  said, 
with  what  amount  of  truth  we  do 
not  know,  that  Scotland  might 
bo  willing  to  compromise  by 
dropping  that  part  of  the 
measure  which  relates  to  the 
grant  of  Home  Rule. 

*.,  * 

The  Ulster  army  that  is  drilled 
and  ready  to  resist  Home  Ride 
numbers,  wo  are  told,  a  quarter 
of  a  million  trained  men.  It  is 
now  rumoured  that  the  Govern- 
ment is  about  to  offer  these 
volunteers  what  they  want  if 
they  will  save  the  Territorials 
by  joining  their  ranks. 

*___* 

There  is  a  growing  feeling 
among  Sir  J.  M.  BABBIE'S  fellow 
Baronets  that  this  popular 
author  should  now,  out  of  respect 
for  the  dignity  of  his  rank,  cease 
to  associate  himself  with  the 
literary  profession. 

jfc      :'; 

Tho  fact  that  two  SMITHS 
figured  in  the  recent  Honours 
List,  but  not  a  single  JONES,  has, 
we  hear,  strained  tho  loyalty  of 
a  considerable  portion  of  His 
Majesty's  subjects  almost  to 
breaking  point. 

With  reference  to  the  vacant 
Laureateship  it  is  said  that 
several   secretaries    to    Cabinet 
Ministers   are  now   taking  lessons 
verse-making.        ^  „. 


and  j 


It  is  said  that  Mr.  JAMES  WF.LCH 
contemplates  engaging  the  Ysaye 
orchestra  for  the  farce  at  the  Criterion. 

:;:     :;: 

M.  Ai-drsTK  RODIN  has  been  offered 
by  tho  Office  of  Works  three  sites  for 
his  bronze  statuary  group,  "  The 
Burghers  of  Calais,"  but  it  is  anticipated 
that  he  will  only  choose  one  of  them. 

Upon  the  retirement  of  Sir  MELVILLE 
MACNAOHTEN,  Chief  of  the  Criminal 
Investigation  Department  of  Scotland 


THE  DARE-DEVIL. 

"  COME  ox  HOME,  GILBERT.     IT  's  six  O'CLOCK." 
"WELL,  I  DON'T  CADE  IP  rr 's  A  QUARTER-PAST.  " 


in '  Yard,    the   members   of  the    detective 
force  presented  him   with   a   massive 


giving  wedding  presents  will  bo  discon- 
tinued in  their  little  island.  In  an  ac- 
count of  a  local  marriage  ceremony  wo 
read  that  the  bridegroom  "  was  the 
recipient  of  a  large  number  of  valuable 
and  other  presents." 
*  * 

And  one  cannot  help  feeling  rather 
sorry  for  the  gentleman  who,  having  an 
almost  new  motor-car  to  sell,  decided 
to  advertise  it  in  a  Cingalese  sale  cata- 
logue. After  a  glowing  account  of  its 
many  virtues  comes  the  refreshingly 
—  frank  confession,  "  Only  drives 
a  few  miles.  "^  ^ 

* 

On  an  hotel  signboard  at 
Uccle,  Belgium,  motor-cars  are 
advertised  for  hire  under  the  de- 
signation, "  Snelpaardelooszon- 
derspoorwegpetroolrytingen." 
The  Belgian  Post  Office  dis- 
courages the  habit  of  ordering 
these  things  by  telegram. 


It  is  rumoured  that  the 
Government  is  on  the  point  of 
coming  to  a  working  arrange- 
ment with  the  Hunger  Strikers, 
they  agreeing  to  take  their  food 
if  they  are  allowed  their  week- 
ends out  of  prison. 

# 

An  ostrich  which  escaped 
from  a  travelling  circus  at 
Wigton  last  week  was  only  cap- 
tured after  an  exciting  hunt 
through  the  streets.  Many 
horses  were  frightened  by  the 
bird,  but  the  motor-cars  without 

exception  behaved  admirably. 
#  $ 

& 
A    striking    example    of    the 

danger  of  a  radical  change  in 
one's  habits  reaches  us,  through 
The  Express,  from  Lodz,  in 
Poland.  Wo  regret  to  hear 
that  MAUBICE  KBUK,  a  shop- 
keeper of  that  town,  died  on 
the  day  after  his  retirement 
from  active  business  at  tho  age 
of  120. 


According    to   another   rumour    the 
economists  are  about  to  win  the  day, 

«.l    il._    T   _. !._    *11     •         f     t  1     .  >  -I 


silver  cup.  The  criminal  classes  also 
feel  grateful  to  Sir  MELVILLE  for  re- 
tiring, and  there  is  a  movement  on  foot 


and  the  Laureate  will  in  future  be  paid  among  our  loading  burglars  in  favour 
by  piece-work  —  at  the  rate  of  two  of  allowing  him  to  retain  the  massive 
guineas  and  a  glass  of  wino  per  poem.  I  silver  cup.  *  * 

*...*  * 

Sir  HERBEBT  TREE  announces  that  i      Glass  buttons,  we  are  told,  are  being 
his  autumn  production  will  be  a  Biblical  used  for  summer  frocks.     Is  this,  we 

wonder,  the  first 


play  entitled  Joseph  and  his  Brethren. 
Humble  playgoers  will  bo  pleased  to 
hear  this,  for  it  goes  without  saying  that 
for  this  production  the  Pit  wiUbe  there 
all  right,  although  it  disappeared  for  a 


dresses  ? 
nervous. 


step   towards  glass 
Frankly,    we    are    getting 


*  * 
* 


Ceylon  newspaper  men  must  really 


timo  during  tho  run  of  Ariadne  in  Naxos.  'be  careful  or  the  pleasant  custom  of 


*  * 

* . 


.  The  remains  of  another  woman  who 
is  supposed  to  have  lived  in  the  Neo- 
lithic period  have  been  discovered  at 
Peterborough.  Feminists  are  delighted, 
as  this  tends  to  show  what  an  old- 
established  sex  theirs  is. 


"Tin  best  timo  of  tho  year  to  como  here 
[Winnipeg]  is  tho  spring,  and  any  girl  not 
having  friends  in  tho  city  would  do  well  to 
stay  at  tho  Y.M.C.A." — Overseas  Daily  Mail. 
We  are  surprised. 


"'Pixrvo,'  the  Latin  for  peacock,  a  som»- 
what  curious  nom  de  plume  for  a  sporting 
writer." — Fry's  Magazine. 

Curiouser  still  for  a  peacock. 


VOL.  c:-:r.i7. 


D  a 


454 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JUNE  11,  1913. 


THE  SITTING  BARD. 

[Lines  addressed  to  one  of  the  officials  who  charge  you  a  copper 
for  your  chair  in  St.  James's  Park.] 

FELLOW,  you  have  no  flair  for  art,  I  fear, 

Who  thus  confound  me  with  the  idle  Many— 
The  loafer  pensive  o'er  his  betting  rag, 
The  messenger  (express)  with  reeking  fag, 
The  nursemaid  sighing  for  her  bombardier- 
All  charged  the  same  pew-rate,  a  common  penny. 

I  am  an  artist ;  I  am  not  as  these ; 

He  does  me  horrid  despite  who  confuses 

My  taste  with  theirs  who  come  this  way  to  chuck 
Light  provender  to  some  exotic  duck, 
Whereas  I  sit  beneath  these  secular  trees 
In  close  collaboration  with  the  Muses. 

To  me  St.  James's  Park  is  holy  ground ; 
In  fancy  I  regard  these  glades  as  Helicon's ; 
This  lake  (although  an  artificial  pond) 
To  Hippocrene  should  roughly  correspond ; 
Others,  not  I,  shall  make  its  shores  resound, 
Bandying  chaff  with  yonder  jaunty  pelicans. 

All  this  escaped  you,  lacking  minstrel  lore. 

'Tis  so  with  poets :  men  are  blind  and  miss  us ; 
You  did  not  mark  my  eye's  exultant  mood, 
The  inflated  chest,  the  listening  attitude, 
Nor,  bent  above  the  mere,  the  look  I  wore 
When  lost  in  self-reflection — like  Narcissus. 

Else  you  could  scarce  have  charged  me  for  my  seat; 
I  must  have  earned  an  honorary  session ; 

For  how  could  I  have  strained  your  solid  chair, 
I  that  am  all  pure  spirit,  fine  as  air, 
And  sit  as  light  as  when  with  winged  feet 
Mercury  settles,  leaving  no  impression  ? 

Well,  take  your  paltry  penny,  trivial  dun ! 
And  bid  your  chair-contractors  freely  wallow 
In  luxury,  therewith  ;  but,  when  you  find 
Another  in  this  hallowed  seat  reclined, 
Squeeze  him  for  tuppence,  saying,  "  Here  sat  one 
On  June  the  fifth  and  parleyed  ivith  Apollo." 

O.  S. 


LES   AFFAIRES   SONT  LES   AFFAIRES. 

I  HAVE  met  a  business  man — one  whom  the  French  call 
an  homme  d'affaires — One  who  is  careful  before  laying  out 
his  money. 

I  was  waiting  for  my  train  near  the  book-stall  when  a 
staccato  voice  attracted  my  attention.  The  owner  of  the 
voice  was  in  appearance  slightly  exotic,  but  he  spoke  perfect 
English. 

"  I  want  a  newspaper,"  he  said. 

"  Yessir,"  said  the  young  man  behind  the  counter. 
"  Which  one  ?  " 

"  Well,  what  have  you  got?  " 

The  young  man  quickly  ran  through  a  list  of  them. 

"  Not  so  fast,  young  man,  not  so  fast  1  Say  them  again 
more  distinctly." 

The  young  man  obeyed  somewhat  ungraciously. 

"  That 's  better.     And  now  what  are  their  prices  ?  " 

"  They  vary  from  twopence  to  a  halfpenny." 

"  Twopence  seems  a  lot ;  why,  I  could  get  four  halfpenny 
papers  for  that." 

The  young  man  did  the  calculation  in  his  head,  and  said 
"  That  is  so,  Sir." 

"Well,  let  me  lock  at  all  of  them." 


"  Pardon  me,  Sir,  but  that  is  not  usual." 

"What?"  cried  the  customer.  "You  expect  me  to 
purchase  goods  without  examining  them — to  buy  a  pig  in 
i  poke?  I  "vo  never  heard  anything  so  preposterous  in  my 
ife.  I  shall  tell  your  firm.  They  ought  to  know  the  way 
you  conduct  their  business.  I  am  acquainted  with  one  of 
your  directors." 

Personally  I  did  not  believe  this  last  statement.  In  my 
opinion  it  was  merely  bluff.  However  the  young  man 
credited  it.  He  told  a  boy  to  take  a  copy  of  each  of  the 
papers  and  to  lay  them  out  on  the  table  in  the  waiting- 
•oom.  The  customer,  mollified,  did  not  move  yet. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  said — "  you  are  an  expert.  Which  paper 
do  you  recommend  ?  " 

"  Well,  Sir,"  said  the  young  man,  "  it  depends  on  your 
politics." 

"  Haven't  any.  And  do  they  keep  to  the  same  politics 
ivery  day  ?  " 

"  Many  of  them,  Sir." 

"  And  which  contains  the  most  words  ?  " 

"  Well,  The  Times  and  The  Telegraph,  I  should  say." 

"  How  many  words  are  there  in  The  Times'?  " 

"  Couldn't  say,  Sir." 

"  Couldn't  say !  Couldn't  say  !  I  should  hope  this  is  the 
only  business  in  which  a  man  knows  nothing  of  the  goods 
be  deals  in.  Do,  please,  give  me  your  attention." 

"  Sorry,  Sir,  but  that  was  an  old  customer  I  had  to  serve." 

"It's  more  important  for  you  to  get  a  new  one.  The 
old  one  will  remain  a  customer  from  force  of  habit.  Can 
you  tell  me  this  ?  If  I  were  to  get  the  four  halfpenny  papers 
instead  of  the  one  twopenny  one,  which  would  fetch  the 
more  as  waste  paper  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Can't  say  I  have  ever  considered  that,  Sir." 

"  Good  heavens !  Talk  of  efficiency  !  And  what  about 
the  news?  Which  contains  the  best  news?  I  am  especially 
interested  in  news  from  Scotland,  Greece,  the  United  States 
and  the  Holy  Land." 

This  was  interesting,  as  it  confirmed  my  theory  as  to  the 
mixture  of  blood  in  him.  j  - 

"  Well,  Sir,  you'll  see  them  all  in  the  waiting-room." 

"  That,  anyhow,  is  a  businesslike  answer,"  said  the  auto- 
crat, and  he  went  and,  had  a'look  at  them. 

He  spent  quite  half-an-hour  there.  It  was  wasting  my 
time  horribly,  but  I  resolved  to  see  the  thing  through. 
The  man  interested  me.  When  he  had  extracted  the  honey 
from  all  of  the  papers,  he  emerged  with  The  Times  in  one 
hand  and  a  halfpenny  paper  in  the  other. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  I  like  this  Times,  but  I  have 
discovered  a  misprint  in  it.  In  the  circumstances,  shall  we 
say  a  penny  for- it  ?  •'•' 

"  Sorry,  Sir,  but  that  would  be  against  orders." 

"  Very  well,  then — it 's  your  affair — I  shall  only  be  laying, 
out  a  halfpenny  with  you.  This  paper  is  a  halfpenny,  isn't, 
it?"  - 

"  Yessir." 

"Ah,  but  stay  a  moment.  Supposing  I  pay  cash  for  it?. 
Surely  I  don't  have  to  pay  as  much  as  the  man  who  only 
pays  once  a  quarter.  If  I  pay  cash  you  have  my  money  to 
play  about  with  at  once." 

"Very  sorry,  Sir,  but  I  cannot  take  less  than  a  half- 
penny." 

"  Oh,  very  well,  then,  we  won't  argue  about  that,  but  I 
wish  you  could  find  me  a  copy  with  a  better  impression  of 
this  print  of  'England's  Most  Beautiful  Actress.'  I'm 
interested  to  see  what  her  face  is  like." 

Just  then  a  train  camp  up,  and  he  said,  "  Well,  never 
mind  that — only  if  my  wife  does  not  like  the  paper  I  shall 
expect  you  to  exchange  it  for  another  to-morrow,"  and  he 
flung  down  his  halfpenny  and  was  gone. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JUNE  11,   1913. 


CHINA    T.    KOOSEVELT; 

OE,    THE    NEW    CONFUCIUS. 

It  is  rumoured  that  ex-President  ROOSEVELT,  whose  passionate  distaste  for  alcoholic  drinks  was  recently  established  iu  the  courts 
eon  offered  the  post  of  Adviser-m-Chief  to  the  Chinese  Republic.] 


11,    1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CIIAUIVAlir. 


457 


"I  AM  AFRAID,  MADAM,  WE  HAVE  SHOWS  YOU  ALL  OUR  STOCK;  BUT  WE  COULD  PBOCCBE  MOEE  FBOM  OCB  FACTOBY." 

"  WELL,  PERHAPS  von  'D  BETTEB.    Yoo  BEB,  I  WANT  BOMETHINO  OF  A  NEATEB  PATTERS  ASD  QUITE  SMALL— JCST  A. 

•QCAKB  FOB  MY   BIKD-CAQE." 


THE   GEEAT  TUBE. 

THE  question  of  tho  Channel  Tunnel 
is  again  bacoming  acute.  Mr.  Punch, 
following  tho  enterprising  lead  of  The 
Daily  Graphic,  has  made  a  number  of 
enquiries  of  public  personages  as  to  the 
pros  and  cons  of  this  scheme. 

Tho  answers  are  subjoined : — 

Col.  SEELY:  I  am  in  favour  of  the 
Tunnel,  both  in  peaca  and  in  war.  In 
peace  it  offers  a  rapid  means  of  transit 
from  England  to  France  and  Franco  to 
England,  without  the  discomforts  of 
sou-sickness;  in  war — but  the  idea  of 
war  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  Impossible! 

CRAGANOUR  :  It  will  bo  sura  to  need 
competent  boring.  Can  I  be  of  any 
use? 

Sir  HERBERT  BEERBOJIM  TREE  :  I  can 
think  of  no  bond  more  likely  to  cement 
the  Anglo-French  entente  —  next,  of 
course,  to  a  magnificent  English  render- 
ing of  some  play  by  MOLIERE. 

Sir  THOMAS  LIPTON  :  I  disapprove  of 
tho  Tunnel.  Anything  that  substitutes 
land  for  water  is  obnoxious  to  me. 
However,  if  you  must  have  it,  may  the 
lost  tube  win ! 

Mr.  C.  GBAHAME-WHITE  :  To  tunnol 


is  Co  retrogress.  Let  there  be  a  con- 
stant supply  of  flying  machines  at 
Dover  and  Calais  continually  making 
ohe  passage  in  a  few  seconds.  My 
friends  among  aviators  are  so  con- 
vinced of  tho  superiority  of  this  means 
that  they  express  their  willingness 
themselves  to  convey  all  the  pretty 
actresses  from  England  to  France  or 
France  to  England. 

Sir  EDWIN  BURNING  -  LAWRENCE, 
Bart.  :  I  cannot  begin  to  focus  my 
intelligence  on  the  scheme  so  long  as 
the  starting-point  is  tho  falsely-named 
Shakspeare  Cliff. 

The  Eev.  W.  A.  SPOONER,  Warden  of 
New  College :  Many  years  ago,  after  a 
rough  crossing,  I  warmed  a  strong  fish 
that  I  might  live  to  see  the  Tannel 
Chunnel.  That  fish  has  never  waded 
from  my  heart. 

Mr.  JOHN  EEDMOND  :  Anything  that 

promotes  the  Union  of  Hearts  is  sure 

of  my  support.      But  I  think  that  a 

boreen  "  under  St.  George's  Channel 

should  come  first. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  :  The  Channel 
Tunnel  scheme  is  a  great  advenh-re, 
but  personally  I  havo  no  desire  to  be 
buried  alive. 


Mr.  \V.  BEACH  THOMAS  :  I  hope  the 
tunnel,  if  it  is  ever  completed,  will  be 
utilized  for  the  growing  of  mushrooms, 
an  industry  in  which  all  good  agricul- 
turists are  deeply  interested. 

Sir  HENRY  HOWORTH  :  The  notion  of 
boring  the  Channel  appeals  to  mo 
immensely.  I  am  not  without  the  hope 
that  the  Editor  of  The  Times  will  give 
mo  facilities  for  assisting  in  this  noble 
work. 

Mr.  ALFRED  NOYES:  Tho  late  Sir 
LEWIS  MORRIS  is  said  to  have  composed 
a  good  deal  of  "  The  Epic  of  Hades  " 
in  the  Underground.  The  Channel 
Tunnel  may  givo  us  a  new  DANTE  and 
a  finer  "  Inferno." 

Mr.  MAURICE  HEWLETT  :  As  the 
author  of  Earthwork  out  of  Tuscany 
and  The  Scooping  Lady  I  am  naturally 
much  interested  in  all  schemes  of 
excavation. 

Mrs.  ANNIE  SWAN  (the  Scottish  can- 
didate for  the  laureateship) : — 

Though  leagues  of  foam-flecked  and  tempes- 
tuous ocean 
Part  Albion's  cliffs  from  Franco's  lovely 

shore. 
Science  and  subterranean  erosion 

Can  dodgo  the  iO-i.     My  brothers,   let  us 
bjrc. 


458 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  11,  1913. 


ME.  PUNCH  IN  THE   PAST. 

[After  the  custom  of  several  of  his  con- 
temporaries and  in  the  manner  of  himself.] 

III. 
[Reproduced  from  "Punch"  of  14G3.] 

To  Daphne,  Chatelaine  of  Horshiond. 

MA  MIE, — What  do  you  think  has 
happened  ?    Some  stuffy  old  things  havo 
presented  a  petition  to 
Parliament    protesting 
against  the  "inordinate 
u  se  of  apparell  and  array 
of  men  and  women  " 
I  was  furyish  at  first,  till 
Lo  Mechant  explained 
that  of  course  "men  and 
women"  only  means  les 
autres,  and  that  all  the 
best   of    us    are    sup- 
porting  the  petitty  in 
defence  of  our  higher 
interests,  as  Le  Meehant 
calls    it.      The    people 
who    started    it    were 
some  dreadful  burgess 
people  whoso  wives  had 
been  exceeding  the  limit 
in   pin  money,   poor 
dears ;  but  of  course  it  's 
simply  splenny  for  us, 
because  what  it  means 
is    that    the    "social 
barrier" — isn't  that  a 
ducky    phrase  ?      I  'm 
using  it  right  and  left 
—is  going  to  be  strictly 
enforced.      Only  those 
of  us  whose  "scutcheons 
are  sans  peur  et  sans 
reproche  are  to  bo  al- 
lowed to  wear  gold  or 
sables,  and  you  'vo  got 
to  bo  somebody  (in  the 
correctest  sense  of  the 
word)  even  to  be  allowed 
satin. 

And  oh,  my  dearest,  it 
was  only  last  week  that 
the     d'Argentilhomme 
woman  came  out  in  a 
brand-new  cloth-of-gold 
walking  skirt !     Of  course  the  creature 
is  doing  her  best  to  pretend  she  isn't 
affected  by  the  statute,  and  has  even 
gone  so  far  as  to  make  a  distaff  claim 
to  a  French  comte  for  safety's  sake; 
but  Le  Mechant  (who  has  promptly 
dubbed  the  husband  Compte  d'Argentil- 
homme) tells  me  that  there 's  no  doubt 
their  pedigree  is  only  on  its  first  legs 
and  as  rikky  as  can  be.    So  she  '11  have 
>o  come  out  in  fustian.     If  she  wears 
;he  cloth-of-gold  confection  she  '11  run 
the  risk   of   being   put  in  the  stocks. 
And,  my  dear,  if  I  was  in  her  place  I 
do  believe  1  'd  do  it ;  for  after  all,  you 
know,  the  stocks  would  display  one's 


ankles,  supposing  one  had  such  a  thing ; 
and  just  think  of  the  sensation  1 

Shoes  are  being  worn  as  long  as  ever, 
to  the  great  delight  of  some  people, 
whose  feet  are  only  too  glad  to  be 
allowed  to  "  run  to  earth,"  as  Zooks 
puts  it.  In  fact,  between  sleeves  and 
shoes,  it 's  a  question  of  which  shall  be 
the  longer ;  and  the  other  night  at  a 
reception  I  made  a  couple  of  utterly 


had  been  horribly  hard  put  to  it  to  fin 
a  new  sensation  for  their  joust-part' 
last  week,  because  of  course  everything 
has  been  done  d  entrance.     Still,  the1 
did    the    cleverest    thing    imaginable 
They  revived  a  craze  that  used  to  b 
tho  rage  ages  and  ages  ago,  and  after 
all,  ma  mie,  for  a  real  "  take  "  there  's 
nothing  like  a  proved  succes  du  tempi 


Urchin  (after  itidulying  heavily).  "  Ow-vf-w,    I    WISH  I  'D   SWOLLERED    THE 

JXPENCE   INSTEAD." 


and  absolutely  dreadful  faux  pas — one 
of  them  was  forward  over  the  tips  of 
my  shoes,  and  the  other  backward  over 
the  ends  of  my  sleeves  ;  but  it  gave  me 
the  most  exclusive  of  ideas,  and  the 
very  next  night  I  made  a  simply  tre- 
mendous sensation  by  appearing  with 
shoes  and  sleeves  in  one.  There 's  just 
a  point  where  they  taper  together,  and 
I  call  these  the  steering  ropes,  because 
if  you  want  to  turn  round  or  anything 
you  just  give  them  a  twitch  and  make 
them  alter  the  direction  in  which  your 
feet  are  pointing  with  the  most  scream- 
ing effect. 

Zooks  and  Petty-Petty  told  us  they 


jadis.     This  one  of  Zooks  and  Petty 
Petty 's  was  a  reminis- 
cence (as  Poupee  Lady 
Godwin       incautiously 
called   it)   of   the  time 
when  everyone  used  to 
make  pilgrimages  to  the 
shrine  of   ST.  THOMAS 
A  BECKET,  but  it  sim- 
ply got   overdone   and 
so    they    left    it    off, 
Zooks  and  Petty-Petty 
thought  of  it  through 
one  of  their  Pom-poms 
dying    just    before   we 
arrived.    Zooks  remem- 
bered smacking  it  once 
when  it  was  a  puppv, 
and  as  soon  as  every- 
thing    had     been     ex- 
plained to  us  ho  went 
off  into  the  most  beau- 
tiful paroxysms  of  re- 
morse, chewing   straw 
and  clutching  people's 
wrists  and  everything. 
So  we  decided  that  in 
order    to    console   him 
there  was  nothing  for 
it  but  to  make  a  pil- 
grimage   to    the    poor 
hingy  -  thing's    grave. 
'.  had  the  most  ravish- 
ing pilgrimage  costume 
made    on    the    spot — 
a  white   sheety  affair, 
nrorn   pannier    fashion 
and    looped    up    with 
ducky    little    scourges. 
Tho  rest  of  the  effect 
was    all    sandals    and 
sockle-shells  and  flow- 
ng  tressos.     Everyone 
idmired    me    and    my 
costume   and  my    sorrowing    frenzies 
immensely,  but  the  nicest  thing  of  all 
was    said    by   Poupee   Lady   Godwin. 
"  I  don't  think  anyone  could  possibly 
look  more  declievelee,"  said  her  lady- 
ship ;  "  or  should  I  say  deshabillce  ?  " 
Le  Mechant  simply  shrieked. 

Tfiese  by  the  hand  of  the  dillicst  of 


pages, 


BLANCHE. 


"  Mr.  B.  E.  de  Beer,  vrho  camo  over  in  the 
Armadale  Castle  to  be  married  and  who  has 
been  on  his  honeymoon  in  Paris,  leaves  again 
to-day  for  South  Africa  in  the  sarno  vessel 
with  his  wife." — South  Africa. 

So  far  the  marriage  would  seem  to  be 
a  success. 


Jl'NB  11,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


TO  MY  DAUGHTER, 

WHO  TKLLS  MK  SHE  CAN  DUKHS  HERSELF. 

So,  dear,  have  you  and  Nurso  con- 
spired 

In  secret,  and  all  eyes  evaded, 
Till  you  can  boast  yourself  attired 
Umvatched,  uncounselled  and  un- 
aided? 

Perfect  in  button,  tape  and  hook, 
You  've  learnt  the  knack,  you  come 
to  tell  us, 

Anil  while  you  turn  that  \ve  may  look 
1  own  I  am  a  little  jealous 

That  she  has  taught  you  with  success 
How  to  assume  your  frock  and 
shed  it, 

That  you  have  learnt  the  art  to  dress 
And  Abigail's  is  all  the  credit. 

Yet  my -devotion  has  its  will, 
Nor  can  I  lightly  yield  to  Nurso  all 

The  praise,  for  I  have  prompted  still 
A  spiritual  dress  rehearsal ; 

On  your  soft  hair  a  helmet  placed, 
.Fastened  your  breast-plate  like  a 

bib  on, 

And  tied  the  Truth  about  your  waist 
Where  she  is  proud  to  tie  your 
ribbon. 

Each  has  her  task,  decorous,  sweet : 
Fair,  to  surpass  your  friends,  she 
made  you, 

While  for  your  hidden  foes'  defeat 
I  in  your  Pauline  arms  arrayed  you. 

For,  though  you  tire  of  sash  and  gown 
And  fold  them  up  for  good,  there 's 

no  day 
When  these,  that  I  have  made  your 

own. 
Shall  be  a  burden  or  demotes. 

Yet,  though  the  clasps  endure,  I  know 
I  '11  wish  our  handiwork  were  neater 

When  at  celestial  gates  you  show 
The  well-worn  harness  to  ST.  PETER. 


••\VIFK   DISAPPEARED  IN   191 
Jin.  SENSUKE  SAITO  NOW  ASKS 
roil  A  DIVORCE." 

Tim  Japan  Times. 

Wo  think  such  patience  should  be  re- 
warded. 


most    interesting    and   ideal   spot   for 
and  parties.     Netley  Abbey  Ruins, 
Abbey.     Founded  A.D.  1'239  ;   dis- 
>  \.D.  153G.     Under  new  management." 

Bournemouth  Daily  Echo. 
Quito  time  there  was  some  change. 


"  To  AXGLERS. 

Ilow.iiv  of  the  fish  named  Weaver,  a  Sting 

om  it  is  1  );xngcrous." 

Notice  on  Brighton  Pier. 
.Viv/'.)i(A-   Angler  (to   his   last  captive). 
"  Pardon  me,  is  your  -name  Weaver?  " 


Taxi-Driver  (to  stout  Metropolitan  constable).  "  'ERK,  WHY  DOS'I  YOU  GET  A  TBARSSFEU? 
You  'VE  CROWD  OUT  o1  CITY  WORK." 


ONCE   UPON   A  TIME. 
THE  SIGN. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  an  inn- 
keeper who,  strange  to  say,  was  unable 
to  make  botli  ends  meet.  Nothing  that 
he  tried  was  any  use :  he  even  placed  in 
the  windows  a  notice  to  the  effect  that 
his  house  was  "  under  entirely  new 
management,"  but  that  too  was  in 
vain.  So  in  despair  he  consulted  a 
wise  woman. 

"  It  is  quite  simple,"  she  said,  as  she 
pocketed  her  fee.  "  You  must  change 
the  name." 

"  But  it  has  been  '  The  Golden  Lion ' 
for  centimes,"  he  replied. 

"  You  must  change  the  name,"  she 
said.  "You  must  call  it  '  The  Eight 
Bells ' ;  and  you  must  have  a  row  of 
seven  bells  as  the  sign."  ; 

"  Seven  ?  "  he  said ;  "  but  that 's  ab- 
surd. What  will  that  do?'/ 

"Go  home  and  see,"  said  the  wise 
woman. 


So  he  went  home  and  did  as  she 
told  him. 

And  straightway  every  wayfarer 
who  was  passing  paused  to  count  the 
bells,  and  then  hurried  into  the  inn  to 
point  out  the  mistake,  each  apparently 
believing  himself  to  be  the  only  one 
who  had  noticed  it,  and  all  wishing 
to  refresh  themselves  for  'their  trouble ; 
carts  and  carriages  drew  up ;  motorists 
stopped  their  chauffeurs  and,  with  the 
usual  enormous  difficulty,  got  them  to  go 
back ;  and  the  joke  found  its  way  into 
the  guide-books. 

The  result  was  that  the  innkeeper 
grew  as  fat  as  most  of  his  class,  lost 
his  health  and  made  his  fortune. 

Un  Boi  en  Exil? 
The  following  paragraph  is  headed : — 

"ROYALTY  VISITS  PANAMA." 
"Panama,  May  20. — Lord  Murray  of  Eli- 
bank,    formerly  chief  whip   of    the    British 
Liberal  party,  left  hero  yesterday  for  Guaya- 
quil."— Roctcford  Register  Gazette. 


460 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVABL_ 


[JUNE  11,  1913. 


COUNSEL'S    OPINION. 

MY  hostess  was  one  of  those  women 
who  are  prepared  to  be  ignorant  upon 
every  subject  and  only  too  anxious  to 
be  enlightened.  When  it  conies  to  the 
pinch  I  hope  I  may  marry  such  a  one ; 
1  shall  have  lots  to  tell  her. 

"  You  are  a  man,"  she  said  as  we 
came  to  the  end  of  dessert,  "  of  decided 
opinions." 

"  Few  of  which  are  reliable,"  I  told 
her,  "but  n.any  of  them  I  impart  to 
simple  and  trusting  clients  for  pay- 
ment." 

She  asked  to  be  enlightened.  ^  When 
I  air  my  views  to  a  solicitor,"  I  told 
her,  "it  costs  him  two  pounds  four 
shillings  and  sixpence  a  time.  Had 
you  been  other  than  you  are,  this 
evening's  talk  would  have  cost  you 
upwards  of  a  hundred  pounds."  I 
assured  her,  however,  that  I  was  glad 
she  was  not  a  solicitor. 

"Why?"  she  asked.  "Don't  you 
like  them  ?  " 

I  held  up  pious  hands  of  horror. 
"  There  is  no  class  more  adorable  and 
more  worth  getting  to  know !  But,"  I 
added,  "  the  matters  over  which  they 
elect  to  brood  are  so  very  dull.  Only 
this  day  I  have  been  instructed  to  con- 
centrate my  week's  thoughts  upon  the 
dismal  story  of  a  garnishee." 

"And  what,"  she  asked,  "may  a 
garnishee  be  ?  " 

"That  was  the  very  question  I 
asked  myself.  To  my  enquirer  I  said 
aloud  '  that  my  lengthy  experience  had 
taught  me  how  much  they  needed  look- 
ing into.  I  would  advise  later.'  " 

She  made  signs  of  rising.  "  You 
barristers,"  she  said,  "  are  dreadful 
people."  She  cast  her  eyes  round 
the  table,  then  turned  to  me  with 
one  last  unscrupulous  smile  that 
amounted  almost  to  a  wink,  as  she 
indicated  a  slightly  bald  youth  at  the 
far  end  of  the  room.  "  He  is  a 
solicitor,"  she  whispered,  "  if  that  is 
any  use  to  you." 

"Thank  you,"  said  I,  "  it  is." 

Had  the  Bar  Council  seen*  me  filling 
his  port  glass  for  him,  its  suspicions 
would  have  been  instantly  aroused. 
No  man,  it  would  have  argued,  could 
have  conceived  an  affection  at  first 
sight  for  such  an  object  without  an 
ulterior  motive,  and  I  should  have  been 
accused  of  brief-hunting.  I  was,  I  am 
afraid,  up  to  something  much  worse 
than  that. 

"  They  tell  me,"  said  I  with  great 
deference,  "  that  you  are  a  solicitor." 

"I  am,"  he  said.    "  What  are  you ?" 

This  was  a  little  sudden.  "  Between 
ourselves,"  I  said,  lowering  my  voice, 
"  I  am  a  garnishee." 


His  look  was  slightly  mystified  but 
otherwise  non-committal.  "  Tell  me," 
I  said,  "  is  that  a  dreadful  thing  to  he, 
or  something  rather  nice?  " 

He  was  one  of  those  fledglings  fresh 
from  the  final  examination,  than  whom 
not  even  Lord  MOULTON  OP  BANK 
knows  more  of  the  written  law. 
Naturally  he  told  me  all  about  garn- 
ishees  and  naturally  ho  made  it  even 
duller  than  it  need  have  been.  I  was 
about  to  yawn,  when  it  occurred  to  me 
how  I  might  make  even  more  use  of 
him. 

"  Let  me,"  I  suggested,  "tell  you  my 
life  story  and  call  your  attention  to  the 
sordid  and  complicated  situation  in 
which  I  now  find  myself,"  and,  making 
myself  the  hero  of  it,  I  poured  into  his 
willing  ear  the  facts  of  my  case. 

"  Now,"  I  concluded,  "  will  you  give 
me  your  opinion  ?  It  will  be  of  great 
value  to  me." 

I  purposely  said  "  great "  value.  I 
thought  it  impolitic  to  admit  the  exact 
worth  at  which  I  hoped  to  retail  it. 

He  wore  rimless  pince-nez,  which  gave 
lim  a  wary  look.  I  attribute  his  next 
remark  to  a  desire  to  live  up  to  that 
.ook  rather  than  to  innate  lack  of 
manners.  "Do  I  understand,"  he 
asked,  "  that  you  are  consulting  me 
professionally  in  the  matter?  " 

I  found  myself,  under  the  influence 
of  a  full-bodied  wine,  saying  that  I  was, 
and  agreeing  that  he  should  write  me 
on  the  matter.  Little  as  I  know  of 
the  law,  I  am  aware  that  a  solicitor's 
letter  costs  but  six  and  eightpence,  and, 
little  as  I  know  of  arithmetic,  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  if  I  buy  an 
opinion  off  one  solicitor  for  six  and 
eightpence,  and  sell  it  to  another 
solicitor  for  two  pounds,  four  and  six- 
pence, I  have  a  margin  of  profit  of  one 
pound,  seventeen  and  tenpence.  So  ] 
took  his  promise  to  write  to  me  anc 
gave  him  mine  to  pay  him  his  six  anc 
eightpence. 

"  Six  and  eightpence,"  he  observec 
with  great  pedantry,  "  and  disburse- 
ments." 

"Well,"  said  my  hostess,  when  ] 
got  to  her  later,  "  did  you  profit  by  mj 
hint?" 

"  To  the  extent,  "  I  explained,  "  o 
one  pound,  seventeen  shillings  and  ten 
pence,  less  what  he  called  disburse 
inents,  but  you  and  I  would  call 
penny  for  the  stamp." 

The  daring  plan  was  misconceived 
I  cannot  recommend  it  to  others.  No 
that  there  was  anything  wrong  wit! 
the  fellow's  opinion ;  indeed,  afte 
joining  up  one  or  two  of  the  split  in 
finitives,  I  was  able  to  use  it  verbatim 
as  my  own.  It  was  the  disbursement 


lat    thwarted    me,    as    I    learnt    on 
erusal  of  his  second  letter. 

Dear  Sir  (it  ran), 

Be  Garnishee. 

We  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and 
te  that  our  communication  to  you  on 
lie  above  matter  gave  satisfaction  and 
leared  up  your  difficulties.  In  en- 
losing  our  professional  account  in  the 
natter,  amounting  to  a  total  of  two 
iounds,  eleven  shillings  and  threepence, 
we  would  mention  for  your  information 
hat  two  pounds,  four  shillings  and 
ixpence  is  the  usual  fee  paid  to  a 
)arrister  for  an  opinion.  You  will, 
f  course,  readily  understand  that  we 
lid  not  desm  it  prudent  to  advise  you 
n  the  matter  without  laying  the  facts 
fore  our  counsel.  A  cheque  at  your 
convenience  will  oblige." 

I  am  now  engaged  in  endeavouring 
,o  satisfy  myself,  unprofessionally,  on 
another  intricate  question  : — Is  the  Bar 
in  overpaid  or  an  underpaid  profession? 
Hie  matter  is  not  free  from  grave 
doubts;  there  is  much  to  be  said  for 
joth  contentions. 


THE  TKOUT  FISHEE. 

PAN  doth  pipe  to  us  anew, 
Reedy  calls  and  catches, 

So  we  '11  go  and  throw  a  fly, 
Dainty,  delicate  and  dry, 
Forty  miles  from  Waterloo — 
Where  the  may-fly  hatches. 

Eun  of  nigh  an  hour  it  is 
From  the  City's  leanness ; 

There's  a  walk  when  you  get 

out — 

Eiverwards  a  mile  about — 
Mile  of  elms  and  Alderneys, 
And  surpassing  greenness. 

Mile  of  gold  imagining, 
Crowned  of  all  creation  ; 

Eve  may  bring  the  fat  content 
Born  of  proud  Accomplishment; 
Morning  hath  the  angel's  wing 
Of  Anticipation. 

Luck 's  a  jade  blows  hot  and  cold ; 
Heed  no  wise  men  give  her ; 
Yet  howe'er  the  night  come  in 
Three  good  brace,  or  not  a  fin — 
Always  she 's  a  lass  of  gold 
Walking  to  the  river. 


"As  rector  of  Iken,  in  Suffolk,  the  Rev. 
Arnold  \V.  Wainewright,  aged  13,  was  presented 
by  the  chairman,  Mr.  H.  W.  Price,  ou  bchall 
of  the  Society  for  the  Protection  of  Life  from 
Fire,  with  a  silver  watch,  for  his  attempt  to 
save  the  life  of  a  five-year-old  girl  whoso 
clothes  caught  alight  at  her  home  during  the 
absence  of  her  mother.  It  is  Mackenzie's 
wish  eventually  to  become  a  policeman." 
Bristol  Evcnitu/  News 

Why  drag  in  MACKENZIE  ?     Surely  the 
infant  rector  was  attraction  enough. 


JUNE  11,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


461 


Little  Boy.  "MOTHER,  DID  GRAS'PA  THRASH  DADDY  WHEN  HE  WAS  A  LITTLE  BOY?"  Mother.  "  YES." 

Boy.  "  AND  DID  HIS  FATHER  THRASH  HIM  WHEN  HE  WAS  A  LITTLE  BOY?"  Mother.  "  YES." 

Boy.  "AND  DID  HIS  FATHER  THRASH  ant ? "  Mother.  "YES."  Boy.  "WELL,  WHO  STARTED  THIS  THING?" 


THE  ORDEALS  OF  THE 
OPULENT. 

SOME  of  the  sufferings  which  well- 
born and  delicately  nurtured  persons 
are  now  condemned  to  endure  by  the 
eccentricities  of  our  social  system  are 
graphically  described  in  a  recent  number 
of  The  Daily  Mail.  Thus  it  is  narrated 
in  the  issue  of  May  30th  how,  under 
the  portico  of  a  theatre  in  Charing 
Cross  Road,  three  young  women  "  in 
sheeny,  filmy  frocks  waited  for  twenty- 
five  minutes  before  they  could  get  a 
cab  to  take  them  home  ....  Hundreds 
passed,  all  full.  Finally,  they  had  to 
get  the  commissionaire  to  go  off  and 
hunt.  Even  so,  it  was  twelve  minutes 
before  they  were  on  their  way  home." 

It  is  hard  to  discriminate  between 
degrees  of  suffering  because  so  much 
depends  on  what  Professor  Pupeson  so 
admirably  calls  the  "  temperamentality  " 
of  the  sufferer,  but  we  doubt  whether 
in  all  the  annals  of  torture  a  more 
appalling  ordeal  has  ever  been  recorded 
than  that  recently  endured  by  Sir 
Halbert  Bond,  the  great  financier  and 
publicist.  Sir  Halbert,  it  should  be 
explained,  had  had  a  most  trying  day. 
He  dictated  to  his  shorthand  writer  for 
an  hour  before  breakfast.  Between 
breakfast  and  lunch  he  attended  three 


company  meetings.  After  lunch  he 
smoked  only  one  Magnitico  Pomposo 
cigar  and  took  only  two  glasses  of 
Grand  Marnier  with  his  coffee  before 
going  down  to  the  House  of  Commons. 
There  he  remained  till  7.30,  focussing 
his  massive  brain  on  the  basic  interests 
of  the  country.  Hurriedly  returning 
to  his  mansion  in  Berkeley  Square,  he 
dressed  and  repaired  to  the  Blitz  Hotel, 
where  he  was  giving  hospitality  to 
several  Peruvian  magnates.  The  enter- 
tainment passed  off  without  mishap 
until  the  "  Sorbet "  was  served,  when, 
Sir  Halbert,  who  was  engrossed  in 
conversation  with  Sefior  Tortuoso,  inad- 
vertently swallowed  the  contents  of  the 
glass  at  one  gulp.  The  effect  of  such  a 
mistake,  as  anyone  will  readily  admit 
who  has  had  the  misfortune  to  make  it, 
is  painful  in  the  extreme,  and  Sir 
Halbert's  suffering,  though  borne  with 
stoical  fortitude,  was  most  distressing 
to  witness,  Sefior  Tortuoso  observing 
that  in  all  his  long  experience  of  the 
Putumayo  he  had  never  witnessed  a 
more  terrible  spectacle  than  the  sight 
of  his  noble  host  gasping  for  breath 
and  ejaculating  at  intervals  in  a 
strangled  whisper,  "  Old  brandy."  On 
inquiring  at  Berkeley  Square  just  before 
going  to  press  we  were  immensely 
relieved  to  hear  that  Sir  Halbert  had 


had  a  quiet  night  and  hoped  to  resume 
his  noimal  diet  almost  immediately.  , 
Widespread  sympathy  is  felt  in 
land-taxing  circles  with  the  Baron  de 
Chaudfroid  in  the  distressing  accident 
that  befell  him  while  motoring  back 
from  a  successful  labourers'  meeting  in 
his  constituency.  Baron  de  Chaudfroid 
was  as  usual  driving  his  magnificent 
200-h.p.  "Fafner"  at  a  high  rate  of 
speed,  when  in  a  dip  of  a  narrow  side 
road  lie  was  charged  by  a  flock  of  sheep 
and  delayed  for  twenty-three  minutes 
until  his  chauffeur  had  extricated  the 
fleecy  assailants  from  the  wheels. 
Not  only  was  the  Baron  made  nearly 
half-an-hour  late  for  his  dinner — which 
always  affects  his  digestion — but,  as 
though  to  add  insult  to  injury,  the 
farmer  who  owned  the  sheep  brought 
an  action  in  which  he  claimed  and 
gained  £50  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
his  sheep,  which,  as  the  Baron's  counsel 
convincingly  showed,  had  practically 
committed  suicide. 


"The  Foreign  Secretary,  however,  entered 
a  few  moments  later  and  took  a  seat  in  the 
centre  of  the  table,  having  the  Greek  delega- 
tion on  his  left  and  the  Ottoman  delegation 
on  his  right." — Standard. 

No  doubt  his  posture  was  a  concession 
to  Oriental  etiquette. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


HINTS    TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW    TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

II.  INVENT  (IF  rossnu.K)  A  SILI.IEK  ASD  MORE  VSOIGKIFIEO  DAN-CE  THAN  HAS  EVER  BEEN  DANCED 


THE    VISION. 

OH,  auburn-haired  !   Oil,  apple-faced  ! — 
They  found  me  at  my  knee-hole 
table, 

My  head  bowed  forward  in  the  paste, 
Sobbing  aloud  for  Mabel. 

What  conjured  up  from   memory's 
swarm 

My  earliest  love,  my.  half-forgotten, 
A  buxom  and  ingenuous  form 

Clothed  in  her  Sunday  cotton  ? 

Merely  a  letter — one  of  heaps — 

Yet  not  with  tears  nor  laughter  laden, 

Serving    to    rouse    the   wound   that 

sleeps — 
A  letter  from  a  niaidsn. 

Was  she,  I  wondered,  fair  as  mine 
Whom    erst   beside   the   streamlet's 
water 

I  wooed  and  won  when  turning  nine — 
The  local  blacksmith's  daughter? 

I  see  her  still,  the  eyes  of  blue 

Like  Junetide's  rathe  lobelia  blossom, 

The  lips  that  shamed  the  cherry's  hue 
With  chocolate  dabs  across  'em. 


She  taught  me  first  what  love  may  mean, 
The  heart-felt  passion  and  the  full 
sighs, 

Till  tiffs  occurred  ;  there  came  a  -scene 
Over  an  ounce  of  bull's-eyes. 

And  this,  this  other  child  of  EVK    ... 

Whose  artless  missive  lay  before  me, 
What  woof  for  her  did  Fortune  weave, 

Bright  threads  of  gold  or  stormy  ? 

Had  she  my  darling's  vermeil  hair, 
Where  every  sunbeam  was  a  dancer  ? 

Her  voice,  her  walk,  her  queen-like  air? 
These  things  I  could  not  answer. 

A  music  of  her  filled  the  place, 
But   Fancy,  though    thou   sweetly 
.  pipest, 

Thou  couldst  not  forge  for  me  the  face 
Of  Smith  and  Boffkins'  typist. 

Only  I  knew,  and  this  much  sent 
The  salt  tears  to  my  optics  welling : 

Whate'er  her  charms,  whate'er  her  bent, 
She  had  my  Mabel's  spelling. 

Luxuriant  as  the  wild,  wild  rose, 
Scorning  the  dull,  the  mere  expected, 

Boffkins  and  Smith  quite  rightly  chose 
To  leave  it  uncorrected.- 


"  Deer  Sir  " — and  straightway  memory 
woke ; 

Not  otherwise  would  she  have  started  ; 
The  next  cOy'sentertce  made  me  choke, 

My  self-control  departed. 

They  came,  they  wondered  why   I 

grieved, 
And  why  these  words  with  tears  were 

blotted : 

"  Tours  of  the  19th  nit.  recieved 
And  contents  duly  nottcd."    EVOK. 


"She  could  not  say  on  which  side  of  the 
road  ho  was  riding  in  Commissioner  Street, 
ljut  he  turned  into  'SVest  Street  on  the  wrong 
side.  After  the  accident  she  fell  on  to  the 
pavement  on  the  correct  side  of  the  road." 
•  ..-  The  Johannesburg  Star. 

Always  the  ladv. 


"As  a  recruit  from  municipal  work  Sir. 
McKiunon  Wood  is  not  a  bad  exponent  of 
domestic  affairs,  hut  when  ho  attempts  to 
deal  with  Imperial  politics  there  is  a  good 
deal  to  be  desired.  In  addition  to  a  prosaic 
stylo  and  hum  and  rum  delivery,  he  suffers 
from  a  lack  of  imagination." 

Newcastle  Daily  Chronicle. 

Probably  milk  and  rum   would  he  a 
better  lubricant  for  the  voice. 


PUNCH.   OR   THK    LONDON   CHAIUYARI.—.TrNK   11,   1913. 


PEGASUS    APPEALS. 

THK   STKED  OF  THE  MUSES  (to  King-master  Asquith).  "  PAEDON    ME,    S1E,    BUT    I  'M    RATHER 
RED    OF    BEING    MADE    TO    DO    THESE    CIRCUS    TRICKS.      COULDN'T    YOU    CONTRIVE 
TO— EX— DISESTABLISH   ME  ?  " 


JUNE  11,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTKD  FROM  THE  DlAIlY  OP  TOBY,  M.I'.) 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  June  '2. 
— Second  Reading  of  Budget  Bill  first 
Order  of  Day.  Looking  round  at  almost 
empty  benches  and  noting  listless  tone 
of  talk,  you  wouldn't  think  it.  Yet 
these  conditions  accurately  define 
position  of  Budget  of  the  year. 
Happy  the  country  that  has  no 
annals.  Fortunate  the  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer  whoso 
Budget  fails  to  stir  a  ripple  of 
interest. 

LLOYD  GEORGE,  whose  origin- 
ality is  fathomless,  lives  up  to  ex- 
ceptional situation  by  presenting 
himself  in  fresh  light.  Budget 
of  1909  eased  hard  lot  of  land- 
owner by  enabling  him  to  claim 
an  income-tax  rebate  on  25  per 
cent,  of  his  rental  in  respect  of 
expenditure  upon  improvements 
or  repairs.  It  appears  that  those 
concerned  have  failed  to  profit 
by  this  beneficence.  With  what 
looked  like  genuine  tears  in  his 
eyes,  certainly  with  a  break  in  his 
voice,  CHANCELLOR  stated  that 
last  year,  being  the  third  since 


but   at    the    temporarily 
i    door    leading    to    the 
Lobby.      His    father,    the    first    Lord 
WOLMER,  who  had  resolved,  in  concert 


the  House, 
opened    glass 


night  House  still  talking  round  Budget 
Bill.  On  motion  made  for  adjournment 
wearied  Members,  by  259  votes  to  201, 
decided  straightway  to  go  home. 


was  granted,  the  Exchequer  has  been 
called  upon  to  sacrifice  under  this  head 
only  £68,000. 


And  there's  half-a-million  for  them,"   through  open  door  to  various  celebrities, 
sobbed  the  CHANCELLOR.      "  I  suppose  ;  he,  indicating  the  Chair,  said,  "  That 's 
they  can't  believe  it 's  true ;  they  say,  i  the  SPEAKER." 
1  He 's  Limehousing  again.'  "  "  What !  "  queried  a  shrill  childlike 

Amendment  moved  from  Labour  voice  that  startled  House  engaged  in 
camp  designed  to  reduce 
or  abolish  taxation  on 
tea  and  sugar  elicited 
the  one  verbal  spark 
that  lighted  dulness  of 
sitting.  Struck  by  WOL- 
MI:H.  Facing  Labour 
Members  sitting  oppo- 
site he  enquired  why  at 
other  times,  in  other 
circumstances,  they 
supported  food  taxes? 
Whenever  there  was 
slightest  possible  chance 
of  Government  beingde- 
foated  on  subject  they 
rallied  to  the  rescue. 

"  To-day,"  said  noble 
lord,  with  scornful  ges- 


with  two  other  elder  sons,  the  present  Wtdtutday. — Since  RACHEL  wept  for 
Earl  CUKZON  and  Viscount  MIDLETON,  her  children  and  would  not  be  corn- 
not  to  be  driven  to  the  House  of  Lords,  forted  there  has  been  no  scene  more 
brought  down  his  little  son  and  heir  to  '  pathetic  than  that  sympathetically 

witnessed  this  afternoon  when 
Lord  ROBERT  CECIL  cried  aloud 
for  presence  of  WINSOME  WINSTON. 
House  in  Committee  on  Navy 
Estimates.  FIRST  LORD,  present  to 
answer  questions,  now  temporarily 
absent.  Observing  this,  LORD 
BOB,  failing  to  obtain  definite 
information  as  to  his  where- 
abouts, moved  to  report  progress. 
"  When  Navy  Estimates  are 
under  discussion  he  should  be  in 
his  place,"  he  querulously  in- 
sisted. 

Piquant  turn  given  to  incident 
by  fact  that,  though  House  has 
been  sitting  a  full  week  since  ter- 
mination of  Whitsun  holidays, 
this  the  first  occasion  that  LORD 
BOB  has  put  in  appearance.  That 
of  course  nothing  to  do  with 
desirability  of  other  Members 
being  at  their  posts. 

CHAIRMAN  refused  to  accept  motion 
for  progress.  LORD  BOB  forlornly  sank 
back  in  his  seat  whence,  like  Mariana 
in  the  Moated  Grange,  he  with  haggard 


Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE,  hurt  by  the  neglect  of  the  landlords 
to  take  advantage  of  his  beneficence. 

boon 


look  on  the  scene  of  his  grandfather's 
early  triumphs,  and  what  might,  in 
ordinary  course  of  events,  be  the  boy's 
own  field  of  opportunity.  Pointing 


ture,  "there's  no  dan- 
ger. So  they  organise 
this  window-dressing  sham  fight." 

Some  fine  confused  feeding  in  this 
metaphor. 

SARK  takes  sort  of  grandfatherly 
interest  in  noble  Viscount,  being  one 
of  extremely  limited  circle  who  heard 
his  maiden  speech.  It  was  delivered 
some  twenty  years  ago,  not  in  com- 
monplace fashion  from  a  Bench  within 


Mr.  ROWLAND  HUNT  devotes  his  attention  to  the  Treasury  Bench, 
debate,    "him    in     the     big 


face  watched  the  doorway. 

"  '  He  cometh  not,'  he  said  ; 
He  said,  '  I  am  aweary,  aweary, 
1  would  that  I  were  dead.'  " 

Ten  minutes  passed. 
LORD  BOB  could  stand 
it  no  longer.  Springing 
to  his  feet  he  again 
moved  to  report  pro- 
gress. Meanwhile 
scouts  out  in  all  direc- 
tions hunting  up  the 
errant  FIRST  LORD. 
Even  as  CHAIRMAN  was 
delivering  judgment  on 
the  situation,  WINSTON, 
with  swinging  stride 
and  studiously  casual 
expression  on  his 
countenance,  entered 
from  behind  the 
SPEAKER'S  Chair.  LORD 
BOB  emitted  sigh  of 
satisfaction  and  busi- 
ness went  forward. 


serious     debate,    "mm    in 
wig?" 

The  glass  door  was  hurriedly  closed, 
and  the  inquiring  child,  thus  early 
showing  his  genius  for  supplementary 
questions,  was  hurried  off  wondering 
what  had  happened  to  cause  this 
sudden  flurry. 

Business  done. — On  stroke  of  mid- 


Episode  one  of  thosetouches  of  nature 
that  make  the  whole  House  kin. 

Business  done. — Navy  Votes  granted 
with  both  hands. 

Friday.  —  Remarkable  example  of 
infinite  care  with  which  mundane 
matters  are  arranged  that,  whilst 
Ministerialists  have  the  MAD  HATTER 
in  their  ranks,  the  Opposition  joy  in 


4G6 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JL'NE'11,    1913. 


possession  of  ROWLAND  HTNT.    Distinct !  incites   MAD   HATTER  to   further   en 


basic   resemblance,  happily  diversified 

by  individual  characteristics.  Of  the 
two,  the  MAD  HATTEH  takes  wider  rango 
of  view,  encompassing  the  universe  in 
his  observation.  ROWLAND  is  disposed 
to  concentrate  attention  upon  defedts  of 
the  PRIME  MINISTER,  the  vagaries  of 
the  FIRST  LORD  OF  THE  ADMIRALTY, 
and  the  indiscretions  of  the  UOM 

SKI  KKTAHY. 

These  watcli  -  dog  services  are  con 
sistent  with  tendency  to  attack  Parlia 
mentary   Leaders  which  -first   con  tree 
upon  him  attention  of  the  House.   At 
time  when  PRINCE  ARTHUR  was  entering 
upon   duties  of  Leader  of   Opposition 
consequent    on    General    Election    o 
1906,   the   Member   for    Ludlo'w,   like 
another  "  Man  from  Shropshire"  accus 
tomed  to  make  incursion  on  the  Cour 
of  Chancery  whilst  case  of  Jarndycc  v 
Jarndyce   was    in    progress,    stiddenl 
attacked  his  esteemed  Leader.     House 
roared  with  laughter  at  incongruity  o 
situation.      PRINCE  ARTHUR,  contrary 
to  his  recognised  habit  of  scorning  to 
notice   such   little  incidents,   had  the 
rebel's  name  struck  off  list  of  Unionist: 
receiving  whips.     For  a  while  ROWLANE 
was  in  dire  disgrace.    He  lived  througl 
it,  and   has  since  exclusively  devotee 
attention  to  right  honourable  gentle- 
men on  Treasury  Bench. 

MAD  HATTER,  whilst  a  good  party- 
man  safe  when  division  bell  rings,  is 
accustomed  to  doubt  the  perfectec 
wisdom  of  his  leader,  the  PRIME 
MINISTER.  His  intimate  acquaintance 
with  personages  and  policies  all  over 
the  world  naturally  reveals  to  him 
weak  spots.  Whether  (to  cite  cases 
submitted  by  him  at  a  single  sitting) 
he  wants  to  know  "  if  HEINRICH 
GKOSSE,  sentenced  at  Winchester  to 
three  years'  penal  servitude,  is  a 
German  subject " ;  "  whether  a  number 
of  Finnish  pilots  have  resigned  their 
duties";  "whether  the  PRIME  MINIS- 
TER is  aware  that  British  armament 
companies  doing  work  on  contract  for 
the  Government  have  a  total  share 
capital  of  31£  millions";  whether  he 
knows  that "  allegations  have  been  made 
both  in  Germany  and  this  country";  or 
"  whether  the  FINANCIAL  SECRETARY  TO 


THE  TREASURY  can  explain  the  delay  in 
printing  and  circulating  the  Return  on 
Education,"  lie  invests  the  query  with 
air  of  gravity  that  sometimes  obscures 
his  meaning. 

SPEAKER,  asked  whether  one  of  the 
questions  here  summarised  was  in  order, 
frankly  replied,  "I  have  not  the  faintest 
idea  to  what  the  honourable  gentleman 
refers,"  declarationof  ignorance  in  which 
the  PREMIER  concurred. 

Severe  snub  like  this  would  have  shut 
up  some  men  for  a  month.  Merely 


deavour.  Members  laugh  at  him.  Ha 
heard  himself  genially  referred  to  fron 
Opposition  Bench  as  "  the  buffoon 
the  House."  Hut  after  all,  there  i 
method  in  his  madness.  A  eompara 
lively  new  Member,  ho  early  discoverei 
that  cheap  and  easy  way  to  obtaii 
notoriety  is  to  direct  questions  person 
ally  to  the  PREMIER.  Addressed 
other  Ministers,  chances  two  to  one  the} 
would  be  left  out  of  newspaper  report 
PRIME  MINISTER  certain  to  be  reportec 
verbatim ;  in  all  probability  question 
will  receive  same  distinction.  In 


The  MAD  HATTEB  finding  weak  spots. 

case  enquirer's  name  appears  in  close 
association  with  that  of  PREMIER. 

"  Some  of  us,"  said  ROWLAND  HUNT, 
regarding  MAD  HATTER  with  suspicious 
glance,  "  are  not  so  foolish  as  we  look." 

Business  done.—  Last  night  devoted 
io  Private  Members'  Bills.  Hereafter 
remainder  of  session  at  disposal  of 
Government. 


"  YOUTHS  (two)  Wanted  for  sausages  ;  must 
>e  clean  and  willing."— Tlie  North  Star. 

Colonel  SEELY  will  be  glad  to  notice 
•hat  in  British  cannibalism  the  volun- 
ary  principle  seems  to  be  recognised. 

"HOW  TO  MAKE   A   HEALTHY  HOME. 

Take  my  advice,  send  yourwives  and  children 
egularly  down  to  the  seaside  at  least  once  a 
•ear,  so  as  to  take  their  troubles  with  them, 
Mid  then  throw  them  bodily  into  the  sea  as  if 
hey  were  only  a  bundle  of  rubbish." 

Our  Ilume. 

lome  down  to  the  pier  and  watch  the 
paterfamilias  readers  of  Our  Home 
making  their  houses  healthy. " 


It  has  been  suggested  in  Parliament 
hat  a  naval  hydro-aeroplane  shall  be 
ailed  a  Navyplane.     Very  good ;  and 
in  airman  in  the  same  service  should 
'0  called  a  Navyator. 

"  The  trial  of  Mr.  Cecil  Chesterton  was  con- 
i  nued  at  the  Old  Gailey  yesterday  before  Mr. 
ustico  Philliinore."— Daily  Record  ami  Mail. 
ounds  more  like  Mr.  Justice  DARLING'S 
ourt. 


THE   QUEEN   OF  THE   ROAD. 

LET  the  'igh-born  madam  go  scorchin' 
by 

In  'er  motor-car,  velvet-lined, 
A  "  shover  "  in  front  with  a  'aughty  eye 

And  phew!  what  a  stew  be'ind. 
I  wouldn't  be  'er,  it 's  an  absolute  cert, 

An'  so  I  'd  like  to  'a'  told  'er, 
For  I'm  Queen  of  the  road,  when  I  bike 
with  Bert 

With  'is  'and  upon  me  shoulder. 

When  "is  shop  is  shut  an'  'is  work  is 
done 

Of  a  Thursday  afternoon, 
I  knock  off,  meself,  for  a  bit  of  a  run  ; 

I  know  'e  '11  be  round  for  me  soon. 
Then  up  we  jump  on  the  bikes  we  love 

In  traffic  no  girl  is  bolder — 
And  the  'ills  don't  seem  a  bit  of  a  shove 

With  'is  'and  upon  me  shoulder. 

We  pedal   an'    pedal    by   woods    and 
grass 

Where  the  country  is  real,  no  fake ; 
There  ain't  many  couples  as  we  can't 
pass, 

An'  for  tea  we  'ave  cresses  an'  cake; 
Wo  watch  the  tip  of  the  sinkin"  sun 

An"  then,  when  the  air  comes  colder, 
'E  starts  me  back  for  the  'omeward  run 

With  'is  'and  upon  me  shoulder. 

The  night  grows  black  an'  we  light  our 

lamps — • 

Two  sparks  in  a  twinklin'  chain— 
I  'm  neither  afraid  of  ghosts  nor  tramps, 

Not  me ;  I  'm  as  right  as  rain. 
Though  me  jersey  's  old  the  same  as  me 

skirt 

An'  me  cap 's  a  good  bit  older, 
I  'm  Queen  of  the  road,  when  I  bike 

with  Bert 
With  'is  'and  upon  me  shoulder. 

THE  FALLEN   STAR. 

"THREE   years   ago  I  was  a  star," 
murmured  the    man    with    the    tired 
iyes   and   the   furrowed  face  and  the 
canty  hair,  fingering  an  empty  glass 
uggestively. 

"Hamlet?"  suggested  the  bored 
ournalist,  who  knew  the  race  of  pro- 
•incial  actors  and  their  illimitable 
anity,  and  saw  no  "  copy "  in  the 
tranger. 

'No,  Sir!" 

"  Silver  King,  Private  Secretary,  East 
~ -I/line,  Charley's  Aunt  ?  " 

"  No,  Sir.     I  was  a  cinema  star." 

"  What  '11  you  take  ?  "  asked  the 
uddenly  brisk  journalist. 

The  stranger  indicated  Blue  Label 
vith  just  a  drop  of  soda.  Mellowing, 
e  told  his  story. 

"  Three  years  ago  I  was  a  star.  That 
vas  when  I  was  young  and  strong  and 
.ill  of  nerve.  I  created  '  Captain 


JUNE  11,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


4G7 


ON    AMERICAN    ROADS. 

Mrs.  O'Brien  (wlu>  has  been  instructed  that  she  must  on  no  account  speak  to  the  chauffeur  when  driving).  "  CHACFFEB  I 

I  MUbl   6PAKE  I      MBS.    RiFFERTY  HASN'T  BEEN  ON  THE   BACK  SATE   OF  THE   EYAB  FUB  THE  LAST  TEN  MINNUTS  I  " 


CHAUFFEB 1 


Eeckless."  I  was  the  headliner  at  every 
palace  in  five  continents.  Millions 
nave  gasped  at  my  daring;  millions 
have  thrilled  at  my  exploits.  I  scaled 
precipices,  hurled  myself  at  runaway 
horses,  dashed  into  raging  fires, 
plunged  into  icy  torrents  gagged  and 
bound,  was  suffocated  in  submarines, 
fought  single  -  handed  against  over  - 
whelming  odds  1 " 

"  They  fake  that  sort  of  thing  very 
cleverly,"  agreed  the  journalist. 

"  Fake  ?  No,  Sir,  far  from  it  I  Not  in 
my  films.  The  public  demand  reality. 
My  company  gave  them  reality.  A 
runaway  horse  was  a  runaway  horse. 
A  fire  was  a  fire.  A  fight  was  a  fight. 
As  Captain  Eeckless,  I  broke  both 
collar-bones,  eight  ribs,  a  tibia,  an 
occiput  and  a  nose." 

There  was  evidence  as  to  the  nose, 
now  that  the  journalist  noticed  it  more 
observantly. 

"The  nose  settled  it,"  continued  the 
fallen  star  with  a  certain  melancholy 
relish.  "  The  public  like  a  hero  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling,  but  they  won't 
stand  for  a  nose  in  a  sling.  So  I 
had  to  change  my  lino.  I  created 
'Fathead.'  I  was  again  a  headliner 


in  a  thousand  palaces.  Myriads  have 
roared  at  my  misfortunes.  I  rode  on 
a  bicycle  into  a  market-woman's  apple- 
stand  ;  I  cannoned  off  into  a  lamp-post ; 
I  swerved  into  a  plasterer's  ladder ;  I 
tumbled  into  a  tar- barrel ;  I  ended  up  the 
ride  in  a  crockery  shop.  The  market- 
woman,  the  policeman,  tha  plasterers, 
the  tar-layers  and  the.  shop-keeper 
pursued  me  with  sticks  and  brooms 
and  anything  they  could  lay  their 
hands  on.  The  more  they  battered  me 
the  better  the  film  t " 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  dummy  they 
battered,"  said  the  journalist. 

"No,  Sir,  far  from  it  I  The  public 
don't  laugh  at  a  dummy  being  knocked 
about.  They  demand  reality.  My 
company  gave  them  reality.  I  was 
Fathead  with  the  new  bicycle,  Fathead 
with  the  runaway  motor-cycle,  Fathead 
with  the  aeroplane,  Fathead  as  panta- 
loon in  the  pantomime,  and  Fathead  in 
love.  You  remember  the  young  lady's 
enraged  father  and  the  bulldog  ?  It  made 
a  screaming  film ;  but  it  settled  me." 

"Have  another?"  suggested  the 
journalist  cordially. 

Tho  fallen  star  made  no  demur. 
After  a  brief  interval  he  resumed.  "  So 


I  had  to  change  my  line.  I  became 
the  old  musician  with  the  violin  who 
dies  through  three  hundred  feet  of 
film.  It  was  easier  work,  but  I  was  no 
longer  a  headliner  on  a  billion  bills.  I 
became  small  type."  His  eyes  dimmed 
moistily.  "  And  then  the  public  tired 
of  the  old  musician.  They  demanded 
burglars  and  motor  bandits  and  bal 
men  with  a  nerve  like  chilled  steel.  My 
nerve  was  gone.  I  could  no  longer 
play  the  bandit.  And  I  could  not  beat- 
to  faco  the  camera  as  a  super  when 
once  I  had  proudly  ruffled  it  as  a  star. 
I  crept  away  .  .  ." 

"  And  now  ?  " 

"  Three    years    ago,    when    I    was 
young,  I   was   a   cinema  star.      Now 
that   I   am   old   and   maimed,   I— 
Hia    voice    dropped,    and    he    looked 
round  to  make  sure  that  no  one  elss 
should  hear  of  his  last  degradation — 
"  I  am  a  dramatist.     I  write  cinema  plays." 

"A  SIMPLE  LOTION. 

To  remove  a  dark  stain  on  the  throat  causod 
by  wearing  high  collars  or  dark  velvet  neck- 
bands, sponge  the  sink  with  equal  quantities 
of  rosewater  and  strained  lemon-juice." 

Mother  and  Home. 
If  that  is  useless,  massage  the  bath. 


468 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE    11,    1913. 


HAMLET. 

A  Character  Study. 

As  to  Hamlet's  forboars  or  his  earlier 
Jays  I  know  nothing,  nor  am  I  greatly 
concerned.  When  I  met  him  lie  was 
already  old — unimaginably  old  —  and 
grim  and  gaunt  withal :  ho  dwelt  in  a 
livery  stable  in  a  small  Scotch  town, 
and  it  was  on  his  back  that  I  made  my 
first  essays  in  horsemanship.  I  do  not 
say  ho  "was  agreeable  to  ride,  but 
ne'ither,  I  daresay,  would  he  recall  me 
as  particularly  pleasant  to  carry.  1 
only  hope  I  did  not  hurt  him  half  as 
much  as  he  often  hurt  me. 

In  those  long  and  blistering  hours  of 
agony  I  came  to  know  him  with  a 
curious  intimacy.  He  used  to  walk 
along — and  always  on  the  wrong  side 
of  the  road — with  an  air  of  mild  ab- 
straction tinged  vaguely  with  remorse ; 
when  I  sawed  at  his  mouth,  which  was 
as  iron  or  adamant,  he  smiled  tolerantly 
and  did  nothing.  Then  would  come 
the  riding  master's,  "  Now,  gentlemen, 
if  you  '11  just  shorten  your  reins  we  '11 
trot  for  a  bit,"  and  with  that  a  horrid 
spasmodicchuckleshookHamlet'sgaunt 
frame;  he  cocked  one  ear  devilishly;  he 
champed  his  bit  and  whisked  his  tail, 
and  then  with  a  sort  of  colossal  hic- 
cough— as  if,  I  used  to  think,  he  were 
changing  gear  rather  roughly  inside — 
he  "  trotted."  Uphill  he  rolled  and 
downhill  he  slid,  and  all  the  while  his 
action  would  remind  one  of  those  fasci- 
nating movements  made  by  British 
seamen  while  dancing  tho  hornpipe. 
I  believe  the  operation  is  known  as 
"  hoisting  one's  slack."  That  is  what 
Hamlet  seemed  always  to  be  doing, 
first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other. 
A  hitch  and  a  kick,  a  hitch  and  a  kick — 
that  was  his  notion  of  trotting.  He 
was  always  far  in  the  rear,  and  always 
perfectly  pleased  with  himself  and  per- 
fectly cheerful  about  it,  and  perfectly 
immovable.  And  when  the  "  trot "  was 
at  an  end  he  would  glance  round  at 
his  tortured  rider  with  an  expression 
incredibly  free  from  malioe  and  yet 
incredibly  full  of  a  fiendish  delight. 

I  don't  know  who  named  him,  but 
there  was  not  a  little  of  the  moody  Dane 
in  his  starved  soul.  He  had  a  rolling 
and  poetic  eye,  capable  of  unsuspected 
depths  of  philosophical  speculation,  and 
by  the  aid  of  this  and  a  curious  twitching 
of  his  unheauteous  mouth  he  achieved 
the  gift  of  expression.  For  a  long  time 
1  thought  he  was  only  making  faces 
at  me,  but  gradually  1  grew  able  to 
interpret.  In  the  stable  he  used  to 
lounge  about  in  his  box  like  some  old 
bore  in  a  club  armchair,  and  all  the 
time  his  face  flickered  and  worked  like 
a  cinematograph.  I  don't  believo  he 
over  saw  a  racecourse,  hut  I  know  he 


dreamt  of  them,  for  when  tho  clank  of 
buckets  floated  in  from  the  yard,  with 
scraps  of  the  strange  jargon  of  the 
sporting  press,  ho  would  draw  himself 
up  and  scrabble  with  his  feet  in  the 
straw.  "Two  to  one,  Hamlet,"  the 
King  shouted  in  his  dreams  ;  "  six  to 
four,  Hamlet ;  evens,  Hamlet !  "  And 
then  Hamlet  leading  them  all  into  the 
straight,  and  tearing  away  past  the  post 
amid  roars  of  joy.  Ah,  well !  After  all, 
GKORGK  THE  THIRD  believed  himself  a 
hero  of  Waterloo  ;  so  why  should  not 
poor  old  Hamlet  win  a  Derby  in  his 
dreams  ? 

Sometimes  I  think  he  realised  that  it 
was  not  true,  and  that  lie  was  no  better 
than  an  old  fool,  and  then  there  would 
creep  into  his  tired  eyes  a  wistful  look. 
"Just  once,"  he  seemed  to  say,  "just  one 
real  good  time."  And  then  would  come  a 
flash  of  resolution  and  out  would  go  his 
heels  in  a  way  that  sent  tho  splinters 
flying.  "I  will  have  my  day,"  it  meant. 
Well,  he  did. 

It  so  chanced  that  the  local  Terri- 
torials went  into  camp  that  year  at 
Blair  Atholl,  and  Hamlet  and  I  went 
with  them.  He  was  very  good  and 
very  docile  all  through  three  long 
summer  days,  but  sometimes  I  caught 
that  flashing  resolution  brightening  his 
eyes  in  a  way  that  boded  trouble.  He 
used  to  stand  soaking  himself  as  it  were 
in  the  scent  of  pine  and  heather  and  the 
cool  music  of  the  Garry,  and  more  than 
ever  he  seemed  to  be  communing  with 
things  that  were  not  of  this  world. 
Something  in  these  long  drowsy  days 
must  have  told  him  that  his  chance 
must  come  soon  now  or  never,  and  I 
am  sure  that  his  Darby-dream  was 
always  with  him. 

But  on  the  third  evening  a  great  army 
of  cloud  came  marching  down  upon  us 
from  Badenoch,  and  the  dusk  fell  to  an 
accompaniment  of  muttering  thunder. 
About  midnight  tho  storm  broke  with 
a  blaze  of  lightning  and  a  merciless 
downpour  of  rain.  I  was  battling  my 
way  down  the  horse-lines  with  a  lantern 
when,  on  a  sudden,  tho  neigh  of  a  horse 
rose  twice,  like  a  trumpet-call,  above 
tho  roll  of  the  thunder.  Somehow  I 
knew  the  voice  for  Hamlet's,  even  before 
the  pandemonium  broke  loose;  for  in 
a  minute  tsthers  were  snapping  all 
round  and  pegs  flying  from  their  hold 
and  about  forty  horses  came  down  the 
lines  like  an  avalanche.  They  were  led 
by  a  great  gaunt  black  devil  with 
streaming  mane  and  eyes  of  fire,  going 
in  great  shapeless  leaps  and  roaring  all 
the  time  liko  a  blacksmith's  bellows. 
It  was  Hamlet  holding  Walpurgis  and 
winning  his  Derby  once  again. 

Heaven  knows  what  spirits  rode  with 
him  that  night  upon  tho  storm.  Wo 
got  in  the  rest  after  a  couple  of  profane 


hours  in  the  rain,  but  Hamlet  was  not 
to  bo  found.  A  shepherd  saw  him  about 
daybreak  tearing  round  and  round  a 
field  all  by  himself,  and  a  surfaceman 
on  tho  Highland  lino  swears  that  he 
took  a  five-foot  fence  like  a  Grand 
National  winner.  Eventually  a  patrol 
of  Boy  Scouts  found  him  about  eight  in 
the  morning  in  a  field  near  Struan  very 
dejected  and  the  moody  Dane  once 
more.  He  came  back  like  a  lamb. 

Poor  devil !  He  had  his  night ;  but 
he  camo  back  coughing,  and  he  coughed 
himself  out  of  this  world  in  a  fortnight. 
I  suppose  no  one  thinks  of  him  now  as 
anything  but  a  raw-boned,  unlovely 
beast,  pounding  along  behind  all  the 
rest,  patiently  and  stupidly  hitch-and- 
kicking  through  the  mud.  But  for  the 
sake  of  the  kind  and  cheering  look  he 
used  to  give  one  when  the  ride  was 
oyer,  the  genial  cock  of  the  eye  that 
softened  the  riding-master's  profanities 
— above  all,  for  his  bold  dreams  and  his 
big  heart,  I  like  to  remember  him  as 
something  more. 

Substitute. 
I  went  to  Brooklands  yesterday 

A  flying  man  to  see  ; 
But,  as  it  chanced,  he  wasn't  there, 
And  empty  was  the  quivering  air, 
Save  for  a  lark  that  o'er  my  head 
His  busy  low-geared  pinions  spread, 

Singing  most  happily  ; 
And,  leaving,  to  myself  I  said, 

"  That 's  good  enough  for  me." 


"H.  II.  Hilton.  Shares  with  John  Ball 
the  distinction  of  being  the  greatest  amateur 
golfer  over  known." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

We  were  quite  aware  that  this  is  the 
age  of  superlatives.  We  therefore  find 
it  rather  a  comfort  to  feel  that  there 
are  only  two  of  them  to  share  this 
distinction. 


"A  Millais  record  was  established  for  tha 
painting  '  Sir  I.  Sumbras  At  tho  Ford,'  which 
was  finally  sold  at  7,500  guineas." 

Newcastle  Daily  Journal. 

One  of  the  birthday  knights,  we  presume. 


"BoiiB.  WELLS'S 

FAILURE." 
Poster  of  "  Tlic  Northern  Echo." 

We  don't  care  what  the  bomb  called 
itself;  we  are  always  glad  when  these 
infernal  machines  fail  to  come  off. 


"MARCONI  CONTRACT   CHARGES. 

EVIDENCE  OP  SIB  EUFUS  ISAACS. 

' ABSOLUTELY  No  TBUTH  IN  IT.'" 

Liverpool  Daily  Post. 

If  this  kind  of  libel  goss  on  Sir  EUFCS 
is  almost  bound  to  issue  a  writ. 


JUNE  11,  1913.] 


'ir,   OR  THIS   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


469 


VILLAGE    SCANDAL. 

"  Yis,  ho  wor  a  great  lump  of  ;i  cliap 
wi'  fancy  clothes,"  said  the  inoffensive 
little  man  who  stood  at  the  gate  of 
his  garden  plot  talking  to  old  Joe 
Shorrington. 

"I  wor  stood  here  smokin'  a  pipe 
artor  my  dinner,  samo  as  I  am  now, 
and  ho  come  tip  to  me  as  bold  as  yow 
like,  and  he  say, '  Good  mornin',  Giles,' 
he  say.  'Good  mornin',  Brown,'  I  say. 
He  fared  wholly  stammed  at  that.  '  My 
name  eent  Brown,'  ho  say.  'And  mine 
eent  Giles,'  I  say,  '  so  we  're  both 
wrong.'  Wool,  he  laughed  like  what 
yow  expect  'em  to  laugh  in  Lunnon, 
and  he  say,  '  Will  yow  take  a  drink  ?  ' 
Wool,  I  di'n't  want  to  make  ho  angry, 
and  you  know  Tuesday  wor  a  warm 
day,  when  that  di'n't  come  amiss  to 
wet  yer  whistle  like.  So  we  weant  over 
to  'The  Greyhound,'  and  when  he'd  led 
up  to  it  nice  and  easy  he  say,  '  Du  yow 
hoar  anything  of  this  backhitin'  what 
they  're  been  talkin'  so  mucli  about  in 
tho  newspaper?  They  tell  mo  yow  du 
nothin'  but  talk  scandal  in  these  parts.' 
'  Du  they  ?  '  I  say ;  "  then  they  're  doin' 
it  tlioirselves,  that 's  plain.' 

" '  But  I  want  to  know  for  a  par- 
tickler  reason,'  ho  say.  '  The  fact  is 
I  "m  a  butcher  by  trade  and  I  'm 
tired  o'  town  life.  I  want  to  set  up 
a  little  meat  business  in  the  country,' 
he  say ;  '  but-  if  there  is  a  thing  I  'm 
afeared  of,  that's  scandal.  I  ha'  had 
enough  in  the  towns,  what  wi'  folks 
talkin'  of  frozen  beef  and  weighted 
scales  and  the  thumb-trick  an'  all,  and 
I  want  to  start  leadin'  a  quiet  life.' 

' '  Wool,'  I  say, '  yow  'a'  come  to  the 
right  place.  Yow  "oont  find  no  scandal 
in  Appleton,'  I  say,  '  'cos  tha's  such  a 
.small  place  there  eent  no  need  to  talk 
about  our  neighbours'  business.  We 
know  it.'  '  Oh,'  he  say,  and  arter  he  'd 
thought  a  bit  he  say, '  I  suppose  yow  've 
got  a  Squire  here?  '  '  Yis,'  I  say,  '  we 
have.  I  can  tell  yow  all  the  facts  about 
Squire,  but  don't  yow  tarn  round  and 
tell  me  I  'm  scandal-mongerin' !  What 
I  understand  o'  scandal,  that  mean 
idle  rumours.  Yow  'oont  find  none 
o'  them  in  Appleton,'  I  say.  'What 
we  know  we  know.  As  to  Squire,'  1 
!say,  'he  ha'  tarned  over  a  new  leaf 
laltogether.  If  he  did  gifc  a  name 
:at  Oxford  for  takin'  a  drop  too  much 
and  gittia'  into  debt  for  £1,000,  surety 
!  hut 's  time  that  wor  forgotten.  Speak 
as  yer  find,'  I  say,  'and  I  eent  seen 
Squire  the  worse  for  drink  this  last 
nonth.'  Well,  bor,  the  townio  he  fared 
.0  prick  up  his  ears.  '  And  Mrs.  Squire  ? ' 
10  say.  'Ah!  that's  sad  about  her,' 
I  say,  shakin'  my  hid.  '  Whether  that 's 
he  four  husbands  she  had  when  she 
was  a  actress  afore  she  married  Squire, 


"WELL,    ALICE,    WHAT   DID  THE   DOCTOR  SAY   WAS  THE   MATTER?" 

"Ip  vou  PLEASE,  MA'AM,  HE  SAID  I'D  GOT  YOUTH  ox  MY  BIDE." 


or  whether  that 's  her  low  bringin' 
up  from  a  place  called  Whitechapel, 
I  don't  know  ;  but  she 's  gittin'  nearer 
and  nearer  the  madhouse  ivery  day. 
Yis,  drink,'  I  say,  shakin'  my  hid  still 
more  sorrowful. 

"  '  Is  there  a  Doctor  here  ?  '  he  say. 
'  There 's  a  man  what  calls  hisself  Doctor 
Penny,'  I  say ;  '  but  he  eent  a  doctor 
at  all.  He  comes  from  Americky,  and 
he  ha'  got  scores  o'  woolly  scalps 
hangin'  up  in  his  house  what  come  off 
the  blackamoors  he  shot  GO  as  he  could 
cut  'em  up  and  see  how  they  was  made.' 

"  The  townie  he  started  to  look  kind 
o'  green.  '  Hev  yow  got  a  board-schule 
here  ?  '  he  say.  '  Yis,'  I  say,  '  and  a 
schulemaster.  Ho  wor  a  stranger,  same 
as  yerself,  when  he  fust  come,  but  ho 
ha'n't  bin  here  a  week  afore  we  knowed 


he  wor  a  ticket-o' -leave  man.  Mind 
yow,'  I  say,  '  there  eent  no  scandal. 
1  'm  only  tellin'  yow  the  facts.' 

" '  Yis,'  he  say,  '  quite  so.  Well,  I 
ha"  got  a  good  meat  business  where 
I  am  now,  and  I  don't  reckon  I  'm 
saint  enough  to  live  in  a  place  like 
this  where  there  eent  so  much  as  a 
breath  o'  scandal,'  and  off  he  weant, 
and  I  heen't  seen  um  since." 

Old  Joe  had  listened  to  this  recital 
in  a  species  of  dull  amazement. 

"  But  what  on  airth  made  yow  tell 
all  them  wicked  loies  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Oh  !  and  speakin'  o'  meat  remind  me 
o'  suffm'  else  what  du  fare  to  whoolly 
"maze  me.  Why  du  I  hae  to  pay  yow 
a  shillin'  a  pound  for  beef  when  I  can 
git  as  good  for  tenpence  at  either  o' 
them  shops  in  Fremley  ?  " 


470 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARI._ 


[JUNE  11,  1913. 


CELEBRATED  TRIALS. 

IV. —REX  v.  ADAMSON. 

THE  defendant  in  this  case  was  the  Rev.  Horculos 
Adamson,  described  as  Vicar  of  Little  Pottleton,  Bucks, 
forty  years  of  age,  a  married  man  with  a  family  of  ten 
children,  two  of  them  being  twins  of  tender  years.  He 
was  brought  up  on  an  indictment  the  main  count  of  which 
was  that  ho,  being  a  British  citizen  of  mature  age  and  sound 
mind,  bad  not  in  the  past  live  years  reported  himself  at  the 
National  Institution  for  Nervous  Breakdowns  and  had 
never,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  absented  himself  from  his  ordinary 
avocations  during  the  statutory  period  of  one  month  in 
every  year  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  rest-cure  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  regulations  thereunto  made  and  provided 
by  the  Nerve  Commissioners  in  the  exercise  of  the  authority 
delegated  to  them  by  the  Act  (GEOBGB  V.,  10,  cap.  4)  for 
the  Prevention  of  Undue  Health,  generally  known  as  the 
Ailments  Act.  The  prosecution  was  conducted  by  Mr. 
Moper,  K.C.,  and  Mr.  Trimble.  Prisoner  was  defended  by 
Mr.  Soundy.  The  court  was  crowded  with  nerve-specialists, 
nurses,  attendants  from  private  hospitals,  psychological 
experts  and  interesting  invalids  in  various  stages  of  in- 
voluntary convalescence.  A  pathetic  incident  was  provided 
by  the  attendance  in  court  of  prisoner's  aged  mother,  who 
had  intended  to  appeal  for  the  prisoner  on  the  ground  that 
he  had  suffered  in  early  youth  from  a  period  of  considerable 
robustness,  from  the  effects  of  which  he  had  never  quite 
recovered.  As  it  appeared,  however,  that  she  was  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  her  faculties,  could  read  small  print  with- 
out glasses  and  made  a  habit  of  walking  two  miles  un- 
attended before  breakfast  every  morning,  the  Judge  decided 
that  it  was  impossible  to  take  her  evidence. 

Prisoner  was  brought  into  court  in  charge  of  two  power- 
ful nurses  from  the  Central  Rest-Cure.  He  preserved  a 
cheerful  demeanour  and  appeared  to  be  totally  unconscious 
of  his  serious  position. 

From  Mr.  Moper's  opening  speech  it  appeared  that 
Adamson,  after  a  career  of  unbridled  athleticism  at  Rugby 
and  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  he  is  said  to  have 
stroked  his  College  boat  and  played  Rugby  Football  for  the 
University,  took  his  degree  in  the  Theological  Tripos.  In 
spite  of  the  earnest  intercession  of  his  tutor  and  the  Senior 
Dean  of  the  College  he  resolutely  refused  to  submit  to  an 
cegrotat,  and  was  examined  in  the  ancient  manner  by  means 
of  papers  set  to  him  in  the  Senate  House.  After  a  period 
spent  as  curate  in  an  East-end  parish,  where  he  was  said  to 
have  gained  an  unfortunate  reputation  as  a  skilful  boxer,  he 
was  appointed  to  the  benefice  of  Little  Pottleton,  his  income 
being  £200  a  year,  together  with  an  Easter  offering  of  vary- 
ing amount.  Here  he  became  a  violent  advocate  of  open 
windows,  walking  tours,  seaside  camps  for  boys,  athletic 
meetings,  hockey  matches,  and  of  the  strenuous  life  generally. 
Indeed,  much  as  he  (the  learned  Counsel)  regretted  it,  it 
would  be  proved  in  evidence  that  this  man,  who  was  in  a 
position  to  give  an  example  and  was  looked  up  to  with 
respect  by  his  parishioners,  had  never  known  what  it  was 
to  enjoy  ill  health. 

Mr.  Soundy.  That  is  not  strictly  accurate,  my  Lord.  I 
protest  against  such  attempts  to  excite  prejudice.  I  have 
evidence  to  show  that  the  prisoner  was  at  one  time  under 
the  influence  of  chicken-pox,  and  a  year  later  acquired  a 
certain  amount  of  mumps. 

His  Lordship.  Chicken-pox  and  mumps  can  hardly  be 
called  an  answer  to  the  charge.  Being  involuntary  they 
are  at  the  most  pleasing  incidents. 

Mr.  Soundy.  The  prisoner  obtained  a  severe  attack  of 
measles  after  purposely  exposing  himself  to  infection  from 
his  younger  brother. 


His  Lordship.  That  might  help  you  were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  measles  are  expressly  excluded  by  the  Act. 

Mr.  Moper,  continuing,  said  lie  did  not  wish  to  press 
hardly  on  the  prisoner.  Ho  was  willing  to  give  him  such 
credit  as  might  lawfully  accrue  to  him  from  his  measles, 
but  he  must  point  out  that  the  gravamen  of  the  charge 
was  really  the  abstention  from  a  rest-cure,  coupled  with 
the  complete  neglect  of  any  nervous  breakdown.  The 
State  in  its  beneficent  wisdom  had  made  ample  provision 
for  the  creation  and  accommodation  of  invalids,  and  every 
citizen  ought  to  realise,  as  nearly  all  citizens  did,  that  it  was 
necessary  to  be  ill,  and  that  a  violent  predisposition  to 
undiseased  strength  was  an  offence  of  the  gravest  description. 

Witnesses  were  examined  and  bore  out  the  learned 
counsel's  opening  statements.  They  all  spoke  with  con- 
siderable esteem  of  the  prisoner,  but  feared  he  must  have 
been  misled. 

Prisoner  then  went  into  the  box.  He  asked  how  a  man 
in  his  position  could  afford  time  for  such  a  thing  as  a  break- 
down. He  had  to  preach,  conduct  services,  attend  to  the 
business  of  various  clubs  and  institutions,  visit  the  distressed, 
play  cricket  when  possible,  and  generally  look  after  the 
affairs  of  his  parish. 

His  Lordship.  We  cannot  go  behind  the  Act.  No  excep- 
tions are  there  allowed.  Other  vicars  have  submitted. 

Prisoner.  Possibly  they  have  nerves.     I  never  had  any. 

His  Lordship.  The  more  unfortunate  you. 

The  jury  eventually  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty,  but  with- 
out intent. 

His  Lordship  saiJ  the  prisoner  was  evidently  one  of  those 
desperate  characters  who  were  r,pt  of  their  own  motion  to 
defy  the  law.  A  man  in  his  position  should  have  been 
amongst  the  first  to  hurry  into  a  nerve  hospital.  Possibly 
the  jury  might  have  felt  that  this  public  exposure  was  a 
sufficient  punishment  for  such  a  man.  He  himself  could 
not  take  that  view.  The  sentence  of  the  Court  was  that  the 
prisoner  be  deprived  of  his  benefice,  be  confined  for  ten  years 
in  a  bath-chair  with  a  respirator  over  his  mouth,  and  be 
compelled  to  describe  his  symptoms  three  times  a  day  to  a 
pathologist. 

The  New  Philanthropy. 

"Sunday  afternoon  the  Terrace  was  crowded  of  people  who  came 
out  to  breathe  the  fresh  Desert  air  and  to  benefit  the  cinematograph." 

Egyptian  Morning  News. 


The  Standard,  describing  the  exhibition  of  motor-polo  at 
Ranelagh,  says : — 

"  There  were  some  exciting  moments,  notably  when  one  of  the  cars 
capsized  and  caught  fire ;  but  on  the  whole  the  game  was  not  a 
success." 

We  are  afraid  that  the  growth  of  militancy  is  blunting 
people's  taste  for  simple  exhibitions. 

"  Prices  of  Admission  by  invitation  :  Gentlemen  6d.  each.  Ladies 
and  Children  free,  if  accompanied  by  parents.  There  will,  however, 
be  a  raffle  for  them,  at  3d.  a  ticket." — The  Daily  Malta  Chronicle. 

Those  who  failed  to  draw  a  horse  in  the  Calcutta  Sweep 
may  still  hope  for  a  lady  or  a  child. 


"  As  a  final  hors  d'oeuvre  a  horse  falls  in  another  race." 

Evening  Standard. 

We  think,  in  view  of  the  usual  order  of  courses,  that  the 
writer  should  have  said  "  savoury,"  even  at  the  sacrifice 
of  so  superb  a  jeu  de  mots. 

"  Pastor  George  \Vise  lectures  to-night  at  St.  Domingo  Pit.    Eight 
o'clock.     Do  not  fail  to  miss  this  meeting." 

Advt.  in  "  Liverpool  Evening  Express. 
We  never  dreamt  of  failure. 


JUNK  11,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


471 


Counsel.  "You  HAVE  GIVEN  us  A  VERY  GLOWING  ACCOUNT  OP  THE  DEPENDANT'S  CLEVEBNESS.     Now,  WHAT  DO  YOU  SAY  ABOUT 

THE  CAPABILITIES  OF  THE  PLAINTIFF?"  Witness.    "WELL,    SlB,    'E    ALWAYS   SEEMED   PRETTY    'EALTHY  LIKE." 

Counsel.  "YEB,  BUT  CAN  YOU  TELL  us  SOMETHING  ABOUT  HIS  INTELLIGENCE?" 
Witness.  "WELL,  SIR,  'E  RUN  LIKE  A  BABBIT." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THERE  is  a  growing  fashion  of  mother-heroines ;  and  of 
this  I  am  personally  rather  glad,  since  I  like  to  fancy 
myself  something  of  an  expert  in  mothers.  But  they  need 
to  be  written  about  very  well.  Fortunately  this  is  the 
case  with  the  latest  example,  Mrs.  Morel,  the  csntral 
figure  of  Sons  and  Lovers  (DUCKWORTH).  The  title  gives 
you  the  whole  matter  of  the  tale.  Will  a  man  be  more 
earnest  and  devoted  as  son  or  as  lover?  Mrs.  Morel's 
three  boys  answered  the  question  variously.  Arthur,  who 
was  good-looking  but  not  much  else,  hardly  matters. 
William,  the  eldest,  was  somewhat  quaint  in  his  courtship ; 
having  become  engaged  to  a  young  person  who  believed 
herself  his  social  superior,  he  used  to  come  home  and  abuse 
her  roundly  to  his  shocked  parent.  However  he  died, 
leaving  the  whole  interest  of  the  book,  and  of  Mrs.  Morel, 
to  concentrate  upon  Paul,  the  youngest.  If  Paul  was 
unfortunate  in  his  sweethearts,  he  was  very  heartily  to  be 
congratulated  upon  his  mother.  In  the  first  part  of  the 
book — which  I  infinitely  prefer  to  what  comes  later — 
Mr.  D.  H.  LAWRENCE  has  shown  very  movingly  the  affection 
and  comradeship  between  these  two.  Incidentally  also  he 
has  given  us  a  picture  of  a  collier's  home  that  is  either 
drawn  from  personal  experience  or  imagined  with  quite 
amazing  penetration.  There  are  touches — the  child  in  bed 
watching  the  light  swing  across  the  ceiling  as  the  miners 


go  by  with  their  lamps,  is  one  I  recall  at  random — that 
have  the  intimacy  of  memory.  And  throughout  Mrs.  Morel 
herself  is  a  real  joy.  Perhaps  this  is  why  I  objected  so 
strongly  to  the  painful  realism  of  her  end.  I  think  indeed 
that,  if  I  had  my  way,  the  book  should  consist  only  of  Part 
One,  and  the  other  would  never  be  missed ;  there  is  value 
and  to  spare  without  it. 

The  Adventures  of  a  Newspaper  Man  (SMITH,  ELDER) 
have  not,  I  am  afraid,  moved,  entertained  or  informed  me 
to  any  great  extent.  Mr.  FKANK  DILNOT  does  not  appear 
to  have  led  a  life  any  more  adventurous  than  my  own ;  if 
anything,  it  is  the  other  way  on,  for  what  to  the  average 
man  must  have  been  such  insignificant  and  frequent  events 
as  not  to  be  worth  worrying  about  excite  him  to  a  frenzy 
of  turgid  journalese.  He  plunges  into  cabs,  hurls  himself 
through  doors,  and  is  pulsating  and  tense  in  the  most 
ordinary  circumstances ;  constantly  he  is  engaged  in  writing 
up  the  commonplaces  of  every-day  experience  in  that  peculiar 
language  employed  by  the  blood-and-thunder  novelist  to 
describe  incidents  of  the  turbulent  and  sinister  sort.  I 
do  not  so  much  attack  Mr.  DILNOT  and  his  colleagues  as 
defend  the  older  school  of  newspaper  men,  whom  he  appears 
to  despise,  and  I,  with  great  submission,  admire.  The 
impudence  upon  which  he  insists  in  the  present-day  jour- 
nalist is  not  necessarily  the  best  substitute  for  the  soundness 
of  his  forerunners;  and,  though  it  is  a  useful  and,  I  un- 
grudgingly admit,  a  clever  feat  to  get  five  minutes  ahead  of 


472 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  11,  1913. 


tho  other  fellow  with  an  item  of  news,  the  men  who  achieve 
it  must  not  rely  on  that  alone  and  be  wholly  devoid  of  a 
sense  of  humour,  style  and  proportion  if  they  are  to  claim 
superiority  in  merits  and  power  over  the  journalist  of  the 
other  type,  of  whose  printed  opinions  the  influence  is  still 
felt.  The  book  contains  a  resume  of  many  recent  cries  of 
the  halfpenny  press,  a  number  of  rather  pointless  anecdotes, 
a  personal  observation  of  the  Russian  people  not  without 
interest,  and  a  rather  ridiculous  study  of  Lord  NOBTHCLIFFE, 
who  deserves  a  more  intelligent  summing  up  than  this: 


Ruthless  and  merciless  is  he. 
knows  not  why  he  sees  them." 


He  sees  things,  and  he 


These  prophetic  novelists  seem  a  vastly  uncomfortable 
set.  Times  without  number  they  have  smashed,  deluged 
and  devastated  our  poor  earth.  The  latest  to  join  the  doleful 
company  is  Mr.  J.  D.  BERESKOBD,  whoso  fancy,  as  depicted 
in  Goslings  (HEINEMANN),  is  for  a  subtle  form  of  pestilence 
that  practically  wipes  the  male  population  off  the  face  of 


the  globe.  Most  of 
the  women  are  spared, 
with  here  and  there 
an  fsolated  example 
of  the  sterner  sex 
— Mr.  Gosling  himself, 
a  resourceful  engineer 
named  Thrale,  who  is 
the  hero  of  the  book, 
and  a  young  butcher 
who  lived  at  High 
Wycombe.  Tho  situa- 
tion, you  observe,  is  one 
suggestive  of  comedy — 
with  perhaps  a  musical 
accompaniment.  Mr. 
BEBESFOKD  however 
elects  to  treat  it  in  all 
seriousness.  Gosling,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  dis- 
appears from  his  placid 
suburban  family,  and 
from  the  reader,  some- 
what early  in  tho  time 
of  terror.  You  are  left 
to  infer  his  subsequent 
proceedings  from  the  pungent  character-sketch  of  him  as  he 
was  in  the  old  pre-pestilence  life.  Thrale  settles  down  as 
joint-leader  of  a  feminine  community  at  Marlow.  As  for 
the  young  butcher,  the  less  said  of  him  the  better.  An 
absorbing  and  amusing  tale,  which  I  liked  best  in  the  mock 
realism  of  the  early  chapters,  where  the  coming  of  the 
plague  and  the  general  disintegration  of  ordered  society 
are  told  in  delightful  fashion.  Later  I  seemed  to  feel  that 
the  magnitude  of  the  situation  he  had  created  weighed  upon 
Mr.  BEBESFOBD  to  the  detriment  of  his  art.  The  arrival  of 
a  liner  from  America  full  of  men  could  only  be  regarded  as 
an  evasion,  and  a  cowardly  one  at  that.  But  its  appear- 
ance, and  the  race  on  bicycles  of  hero  r.nd  heroine  to  meet 
it  at  Southampton,  provide  an  excellent  final  thrill. 

On  page  493  the  eponymous  hero  of  Father  Ralph  (MAC- 
MILLAN)  "took  up  his  clerical  collar  and  looked  at  it 
curiously.  He  smiled  as  he  thought  of  how  he  had  dreaded 
laying  it  aside:  and  now  there  was  only  a  sense  of  escape 
from  bondage,  of  freedom."  I  have  noticed  a  good  many 
lines  in  Anglican  neck-linen  about  which  I  believe  I  should 
have  felt  like  that  if  I  had  ever  been  compelled  to  put  them 
on;  but  Father  Ralph  of  course  was  speaking  with  a 
spiritual  significance  about  the  yoke  of  Rome ;  for  during 


CANDIDATES 
TYING  CLASS. 


the  previous  four  hundred  pages  or  thereabouts  he  had  been 
a  member  of  tho  secular  priesthood  of  Ireland,  and,  allow- 
ing tho  usual  discount  for  odium  tlicologicwn,  Mr.  GERALD 
O'DoNOVAN  makes  out  an  exceedingly  plausible  case  for  the 
blackness  of  that  particular  body.  Ignorant  for  the  most 
part  and  sordidly  self-seeking,  they  are  opposed,  according 
to  this  writer,  to  all  the  best  interests  of  Erin,  and  are  tho 
real  enemy  of  Home  Rule,  the  best  chance  for  that  measure 
lying  apparently  in  the  modernism  which  aims  at  dairy 
co-operation,  the  revival  of  Gaelic,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
tolerance  in  religious  thought.  Father  Ralph,  a  brilliant 
youth  destined  from  early  boyhood  for  the  Church,  became 
gradually  disillusioned  by  the  system  of  his  theological 
seminary  and  tho  characters  of  his  bishop  and  superior 
priest,  and  finally  revolted  when  the  "  lamentabili  sane" 
decree  appeared  to  destroy  all  possibility  of  reform.  Tho 
author  writes  so  well  that  personally  I  am  sorry  ho  did  not 
treat  me  to  a  novel  instead  of  a  thesis  in  romantic  form ; 
but  I  have  little  doubt  that  his  book  will  figure  in  tho 

catalogues  of  most  of 
our  circulatinglibraries. 
In  any  case  there  is  one 
Index  where  it  is  quite 
certain  of  securing  a  pro- 
minent place.  Father 
Ralph,  by  the  way,  has 
now  sailed  to  the  New 
World,  wearing  a  lounge 
suit  and  a  lay  collar  of 
unspecified  pattern.  I 
wish  him  every  success. 

At  the  very  outset  of 
In  the  Grip  of  Destiny 
(ALLEN)  wo  find  a  con- 
vict in  Siberia  swearing 
that  "as  surely  as 
Heaven's  lightning  has 
blasted  this  pine-tree  so 
surely  will  I  avenge 
myself  upon  that  fiend 
in  human  shape  whose 
black  treachery  has 
sent  me  here."  If  in- 
clined to  be  melodra- 
matic this  man  undoubtedly  meant  business,  and  so  it 
is  a  little  disappointing  to  be  switched  off  suddenly  to 
Ilfracombe,  and  for  some  time  to  lose  sight  of  him.  Not 
that  things  were  unexciting  in  Devonshire,  for  very  soon 
a  remarkably  fine  game — of  "  hunt  the  pebble,"  if  I  may  call 
it  so — was  in  full  swing.  This  pebble  is  the  key  to  the 
story,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  it  Mr.  CHABLES  STERBEY  piles 
sensation  upon  sensation,  making  it  the  foundation-stone 
of  the  most  bewildering  plots  and  counterplots.  Our  old 
friends  the  stupid  local  police  are  once  again  trotted  out  for 
ridicule,  but  this  time  1  found  them  a  welcome  relief  from 
the  bloodthirsty  ruffians  who  baffled  them.  And  I  am 
also  grateful  for  my  introduction  to  the  Polish  Countess, 
who  was,  without  flattery,  a  superb  fiend.  When  I  ulti- 
mately discovered  that  the  Siberian  convict  was  married  to 
this  diabolical  woman  I  ceased  to  wonder  at  the  ferocity  of 
his  oath.  A  love-interest  is  provided  for  those  who  want 
it,  but  Mr.  STEBEEY  devotes  more  attention  to  his  criminals 
than  to  his  philanderers,  and  it  is  only  as  an  amazing 
sensationalist  that  he  can  be  recommended. 


FOB    THE    OFFICE    OP     ClTY    REMEMBBAXCEE    ATTENDING    A    EtOT- 


"THK   FLAT 


Crime  also  seems  to  need  brightening. 


MURDER  TRIAL." 

"  Daily  News  "  poster. 


JIM:  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


473 


CHARIVARIA. 

Ir  is  rumoured  that  Lord  MURRAY'S 
prolonged  absence  in  South  America  is 
duo  to  the  best  of  reasons.  He  is 
anxious  to  secure  contracts  for  oil  to 

pour  on  troubled  waters. 

*  * 

It  does  not  say  much  for  the  enter- 
prise of  our  fashion  journals  that  none 
of  them  has,  in  view  of  the  possibility 
of  a  lady  being  appointed  Poet  Laureate, 
published  an  illustrated  article  on  the 
most  becoming  mode  of  wearing  the 

bays.  ...  .;. 

'  * 

Tlio  poet  PYE,  we  ai-e  told  in  The 
Observer,  was  the  most  conscientious  of 
the  Laureates.  He  used  to  turn  out 
Birthday  Odes  with  the  precision  of 
clock-work,  and  these  were  read  out  to 
KING  GEORGE  III.  at  his  birthday 

parties.     His    Majesty 

ultimately   became 
insane.      ::.  .;. 

With  reference  to  the 
charge  of  "  Sweating 
Sovereigns  "  which  was 
gone  into  at  Preston 
last  week,  we  have 
received  several  letters 
from  crowned  heads 
complaining  of  tho 
miserable  pittances 
upon  which  they  are 
expected  to  live. 

:;:     :|: 

At  the  recent  show 
of  the  Pekingese  Club  a 
policeman  stood  guard 
over  one  of  the  most 
valuable  exhibits  —  to 


that  a  note  of  the  following  proposal  had  j 
boon    found: — "Interrupt    Premier's! 
golf."     This  gives  one  an  idea  of  the 
lengths     to     which     these     desperate 
women  are  prepared  to  go. 

•':-    -':• 

:'.: 

Wo  understand  that  when  the  bag  of 
flour  was  thrown  at  Mr.  ASQUITH  last 
week  the  PREMIER  at  first  took  it  to  be 
an  argument  against  Free  Food,  the 
subject  upon  which  he  was  speaking  at 
the  time.  ...  ,,. 

It  is  stated  that  there  are  no  militant 
suffragettes  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  Manx 
cats,  as  is  well  known,  have  no  tails, 
and  the  HOME  SECRETARY  is  again 
being  urged  to  try  tho  effect  of  cutting 
off  tlie  hair  of  his  Suffragette  prisoners. 

•-::    ••':• 

Some  statistics  just  published  show 
that  Bournemouth  and  Eastbourne  are 


was  foretold  to  Mr.  DOUGLAS  some 
time  ago  in  a  dream.  Such  cases  of  a 
presentiment  of  evil  arc  by  no  moans 
uncommon. 


"THEY  SAY   THIS    PUTTING    IS    DIFFICULT,    BUT    I    CAX'l    SEE    YET    WHERE    THE 
TROUBLE    COMES    IX." 


the    obvious 


the  places  where  spinsters  are  most 
numerous.  Few  can  have  failed  to 
notice  what  a  harassed  look  the  male 


annoyance  of  the  little  smug-faced  dog 

iu  question,  who  feared  that  it  might 

lead    the   unthinking  public    to    take  !  inhabitants  of  those  towns  have  worn 

him  for  a  desperate  criminal  or  a  mill-   for  some  time  past. 

tant.  ,:  ,., 


Sir  CHARLES  WYNDHAM'S  suggestion 
that  telephone  -  users  should  make  a 
point  of  writing  a  letter  to  the  POST- 


Lady TREE,  discussing  the  revival  of 
fringes  for  women,  said  to  an  inter- 
viewer last  week,  "  Women  with  really 
intellectual  foreheads  should  not  wear 


MASTER-GENERAL  detailing  each  cause  them."      Personally,  we  always   wear 
of  complaint  that  has  occurred  during  i  ours.  ...  ... 

the  day  has  the  hearty  support  of  the 


Et.  Honble.  SAMUEL,  who  looks  for- 
ward to  a  large  and  permanent  increase 
in  the  revenue  from  the  sale  of  postage 
stamps  as  a  result  of  this  proposal. 

Seiior  Dr.  DON  SALAS  has  arrived  in 


The  Daily  Mail  headed  its  paragraph 
describing  Sir  J.  FOHBES-BOBERTSON'S 
farewell — "  Our  only  Hamlet,"  and 
wound  up  with  the  statement,  "  The 
audience  sang,  '  He 's  a  jolly  good 
fellow.'  "  We  believe  that  this  is  the 


London  on  a  special  mission  from  the  |  first   time  the    melancholy   Dane  has 
Argentine  Government  to  thank  KING   been  so  described. 
GEORGE  for  the   visit   of   the   British1  *...* 

Fleet  in  1910.     No  one  seems  to  trust       Mr.  JAMES  A.  DOUGLAS,  a  spiritualist, 
the  Post  Oflico  nowadays.  |  produced   last   week   at   the   Aldwych 

:;:...:;:  j  Theatre  what  has  been  declared  to  be 

[t  transpired  during  the  trial  of  the ;  the  worst  play  in  London.    According 
Suffragette  leaders  at  the  Old  Bailey !  to  Liqht,  the   production  of  his  play 


*  * 

The  suggestion  that  the  .recent  fire 
at  MUDIE'S  may  have  boon  due  to 
spontaneous  combustion  on  the  part  of 
certain  "  advanced  "  novels  is  endorsed 
by  a  statement  in  The  Evening  News. 
"  The  library  proper,"  says  our  contem- 
porary in  its  account  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, "  suffered  no  damage." 

Three  hundred  boys  escaped  without 
mishap  from  a  fire  which  destroyed  St. 
John's  School,  Leatherhead,  last  week. 
The  only  regrettable  feature  of  tho 
incident  is  a  denial  of  the  statement 
that  it  required  the  most  strenuous 
efforts  on  the  part  of  the  masters  to  pre- 
vent the  boys  from  dashing  into  the 
burning  building  to  save 
their  school-books. 

A  police  order  pub- 
lished in  a  Danzig 
newspaper  warns  those 
concerned  that  all 
thistles  in  fields  and 
gardens  must  ba  up- 
rooted by  the  end  of 
July.  The  order  has 
created  some  amuse- 
ment locally,  where  it 
is  held  that  it  is  a 
foolish  bureaucrat  who 
quarrels  with  his  food. 
9 

During  a  representa- 
tion, last  week,  of  the 
Battle  of  Waterloo  for 
cinema  purposes,  in  which  4,000  players 
and  3,000  horses  were  taking  part,  only 
one  of  the  combatants  was  injured. 
This  recalls  the  famous  battle  between 
the  Sultan  of  MOROCCO'S  troops  and  the 
adherents  of  a  pretender,  in  which  the 
only  person  killed  was  a  civilian  who 
was  engaged  in  selling  sherbet  to  both 
sides.  ^^_______^^_ 

The  Marconi  Report. 
"  More  whitewash  !  "  said  the  FAL- 
CONER, 

Doing  the  Party  trick ; 
"  Throw  it  about  in  bucketfuls ; 
Some  of  it 's  bound  to  stick." 
"  Very  poor  art !  "  the  public  cried; 
"  You  've  laid  it  on  too  thick  1 " 


Women  in  Parliament. 
"  Lord  Savile  (18)  boat  Mrs.  S.  Roberts.  M.P. 
(18)  by  3  and  2."— "  Tlie  Daily  Telegraph" 
rcporilny  the  Parliamentary  Golf  Handicap. 


"THE  BISHOP  OP  WINCHESTER  osr 
THE  STAGE." — The  Timts. 

Mr.  GEOUGE  GRAVES  must  look  out. 


474 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


A    CABLE    TO    QUITO. 

The  CHAIRMAN  OF  THE  MARCONI  COMMITTEE  to 

Lord  MURRAY  OF  ELIBASK. 
MURRAY,  you  should  be  with  us  at  this  hour ! 

ASQUITH  has  need  of  you  ;  the  Party  hungers 
For  that  large  smile  which  is  your  native  dower 
To  petrify  this  swarm  of  scandal-mongers. 
Wo  would  not  have  you  hurry,  MURBAY, 
But  things  at  home  are  just  as  hot  as  curry. 

We  picture  you  out  there  the  slave  of  toil 

(Your  polished  head  a  target  for  the  sheer  suns) 

Among  the  gushers,  doing  deals  in  oil, 

Not  for  your  own  ends  but  for  Messrs.  PEARSON  s ; 
We  know  your  motto,  fixed  as  fate, 

Was  ever  "  Duty  first ;  let  Pleasure  wait ;  " 

Yet,  could  you  read  what  even  Liberals  say 
Of  truths  extracted  like  reluctant  molars, 

You  would  not  linger  longer,  not  a  day, 

But  fling  yourself  across  the  estranging  rollers, 
Cutting  the  prior  claims  of  Quito. 

(Bis  venit,  I  may  add,  qui  vcnit  cito). 

For  your  appearance  in  our  First  Eeporfc 
Occurs  by  proxy  only  ;  but  I  've  reckoned 

You'll  be  iii  time  (D.V.)  to  share  the  sport 
And  have  your  viva  voce  in  our  Second ; 
Meanwhile,  en  route,  our  wireless  stations 

Shall  flash  you  any  further  revelations. 

Weather  permitting,  then,  come  pretty  soon  ; 
Come  o'er  the  foam  as  fast  as  you  are  able ; 
For,  though  we  much  appreciate  the  boon 
Of  testimony  kindly  sent  by  cable, 

The  spoken  word  is  always  nicer  ; 
Yours  (less  in  wrath  than  sorrow),  ALBERT  SPICER. 

O.  S. 


CHEBCHEZ  LA  FEMME. 

I  'M  a  burglar. 

I  say,  I  'm  a  burglar.  There  is  no  catch  in  it.  My 
occupation,  when  I  am  at  liberty  to  follow  it,  is  burglariously 
breaking  and  entering  dwelling-houses  with  intent  to  commit 
a  felony  therein. 

I  am  the  man  of  whom  you  are  afraid  by  night.  I  also 
am  the  man  who  is  afraid  of  you  by  night.  You  are  always 
hearing  me- moving  about  down  stairs,  when  in  fact  I'm 
elsewhere  ;  I  am  always  hearing  you  moving  about  upstairs, 
when  in  fact  you  are  asleep.  It  is  nervous  work  for  both 
of  us,  isn't  it  ? 

Or  rather,  I  used  to  be  a  burglar.  It  was  in  consequence 
of  a -remark  addressed  to  me  by  a  man  named  Hodgkinson 
that  I  gave  up  the  business.  Do  you  know  the  Hodgkinsons 
of  199,  South  Audley  Street,  W.?  No?  No  more  do  I, 
but  nevertheless  I  thought  I  might  while  away  an  hour 
or  two  at  their  house  as  well  as  anywhere  else. 

The  servants  having  gone  to  bed  when  I  arrived,  I  had 
to  unpack  my  bag  myself.  It  is  a  whim  of  mine  to  do  this 
in  the  dark — a  foolish  whim,  perhaps,  as  I  always  end 
by  dropping  something  and  breaking  something  else.  One 
has  to  be  a  burglar  to  learn  what  a  lot  of  glass  there  is  in 
the  world  ready  to  create  a  disturbance  on  the  slightest 
provocation. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  called  out  Hodgkinson  from  above. 

I  thought  it  was  no  good  answering  that  I  was  a  burglar 
He  would  not  have  sympathised,  so  I  let  the  remark 
pass. 


"  What  are  you  doing  down  there  ? "  he  continued. 
Think  as  I  would,  I  could  not  hit  on  an  evasive  answer; 
jesides,  my  throat  was  curiously  dry  and  did  not  lend  itself 
;o  conversation.  But  this  Hodgkinson  was  bent  on 
;onversing,  so  he  went  back  to  his  room  and  explained  to 
lis  wife  how  right  everything  was  in  this  best  of  worlds. 

His  wife,  however,  was  clearly  of  opinion  that  she  had 
heard  something,  and,  as  I  proceeded  with  my  work  not 
without  trepidation,  she  was  even  more  certain  that  she  had 
icard  something  else.  No  doubt  she  was  right ;  there  was 
jertainly  plenty  to  hear.  So  back  came  Hodgkinson, 
letermined  to  extract  some  information  out  of  me. 

I  confess  to  being  then  a  little  nervous  and  almost  upset 
ipon  realizing  that  here  was  Hodgkinson  coming  down- 
stairs. For  all  I  knew,  he  carried  a  revolver;  and  I  had 
icard  dreadful  accounts  of  the  lengths  to  which  house- 
lolders  will  go  in  their  dangerous  business  of  householding. 
I  had  an  instinctive  feeling  that,  pleasant  place  though 
199,  South  Audley  Street,  W.,  might  be,  it  was  no  place 
for  me.  Even  as  I  was  seriously  thinking  of  changing  my 
address,  the  hall  was  Hooded  with  a  brilliant  light.  I  hate 
too  much  light,  for  it  gives  me  a  headache;  so  that 
decided  me,  and  I  moved  towards  the  door. 

Meanwhile  this  Hodgkinson,  if  you  will  believe  me, 
heaved  a  sigh  of  intense  relief.  "  Oh  !  "  he  said,  "  it 's  only 
you,  is  it?  " 

Only! 

Then  he  tried  to  be  severe.  "  You  have  no  business  to 
give  us  such  a  fright,"  he  continued.  "  We  thought  you 
were  a  Suffragette." 

I  retired  once  and  for  all  from  199,  South  Audley  Street, 
W.  and  the  profession  in  disgust. 


THE  CONSCIENTIOUS  PEOGBAMME. 

THE  latest  revue,  just  produced  at  the  Collodeum,  entitled 
Hind  the  Step,  differs  from  its  predecessors  in  no  way 
except  in  the  frankness  of  its  programme,  portions  of  which 
we  are,  in  the  interest  of  fairness,  pleased  to  quote  :— 

"MIND  THE   STEP." 

A  New  and  Original  Revue, 
in  Four  Acts. 

First  Scenario  by.Digby  Morrison. 

Eevision  of  same  by  Arthur  Raster. 

Title  by  a  luncheon  party  at  Kimono's. 

Humorous  interlude  in  First  Act  by  Chauncy  Jones. 

Joke  in  Second  Act  by  Charles  J.  Masterman. 

Joke  in  Third  Act  by  J.  Wilbraham  Kank. 

All  other  jokes  by  the  Gotham  Stunt  Family. 

Music  conveyed  from  various  places  and  arranged 

by  Leon  Bolovitch. 
Original  lyric  in  Act  II.  written  by  Harry  Bolder. 

Other  lyrics  acquired. 
Sensational  spectacle  in  First  and  Third  Acts 

from  America. 

Ballet  in  Second  and  Fourth  Acts  from  Paris. 
Costumes  by  Willier  from  designs  made  in  France, 

Germany  and  Eussia. 
Wigs  from  the  usual  place. 

The  revue  produced  for  a  few  days  by  Ben  Lomino;   then 
taken  over  by  Argyll  Laburnum  ;  and  finally  completed 

by  Arthur  Raster. 
Dances  adapted  by  Charter  Fish. 

"  The  Four  and  Twenty  Peaches  "  collected  from  various 

American  cities  by  Hiram  Baskervil. 

Their  complexions  by  Laurie  et  Cie, 

&c.  &c.  &c. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JUNE   18,   1913. 


THE    MAKCONI    OCTOPUS. 

LIBERAL  PARTY.  "  ANOTHER    TENTACLE    OR    TWO    AND    I  'M    DONE  1 ' 


JUNE  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVAIU. 


477 


THE    BEDSIDE    MANNER-LATEST. 

Doctor  (calling  at  hospital,  ten  minutes  after  the  dinner-bell  lias  gone,  to  "dress  "  his  patient  in  private-  ward).  "  I  SAY,  THAT  '&  A. 

FINE  OAME   AT  LOKD'S.      BY  JOVE  I    I   REMEMBER  PLAYING   IN   A   HOLIDAY   MATCH   AT   HORSHAM.      THEY  HAD  A   COUPLE  OP  SUSSEX  MB* 

BOWLING  FOB  THEM,  VlXE  AND  KlLLICK.     I  TOOK  THE  FIBST  OVER  FBOM  KlLLICK.     PlRST  BALL,  DEAD  ON  MIDDLE  STUMP;    SECOND 

IIAI.L,  DEAD  ON  MIDDLE  STUMP;  THIRD,  DEAD  ON  MIDDLE  STUMP;    POUBTH,  GLANCED  IT  TO  LEG FOUB;    FIFTH,  CUT  IT  TO  BOUNDABT 

— FOUR;  SIXTH,  GLANCED  IT  TO  LEG — FOUR!  TWELVE  IN  FIRST  OVER — NOT  BAD,  WHAT?  ST.  MARY'S  MEN  DIDN'T  FLUFF  A  CATCH 
THE  WHOLE  DAY  AND  WE  WON  BY  TWO  RUNS.  HERE,  NUBSE,  WHEBE 'g  MY  OVERALL  AND  RUBBER  GLOVES?  LET'S  OET  TO  WOBK, 
FOR  GOODNESS'  SAKE." 


BLEATINGS  ABOUT    BOOKMEN.! 
THE   new   series  of    Classical  Bio- 
graphies issued  by  the   firm  of  Balder! 
and  Dash  opens  suspiciously  with   a 
brilliant  monograph  on  HAROLD  BEGBIE  i 
from  the  luminous  pen  of  Sir  OLIVER  i 
LODOE.     The  title-page  is  stern  in  its  j 
simplicity,  only  containing  the  words,  J 
"HAROLD  BEGBIE,  by  OLIVER  LODGE," 
with    the   affecting    motto,   Trumpeter 
imns  crat.     The  illustrations  include  a 
wonderful   X-ray    photograph    of    Sir| 
OLIVER  LODGE'S  brain  and  an  interest- 
ing appendix  on  "  brow-drill,"  showing 
how   a  dome-shaped  bulbosity  of  the 
forehead  can  be  promoted  by  a  course 
of  cranial  gymnastics. 


print.  A  reprint  will  shortly  be  issued 
of  Mr.  Bracefield's  whaling  romance, 
"  In  Quest  of  Blubber."  The  new 
edition,  which  will  be  issued  in  limp 
oilskin  at  6s.  net.,  will  contain  a 
striking  portrait  of  Mr.  Bracefield  in 
the  act  of  discharging  a  harpoon  and 
at  the  same  time  reciting  his  poem, 
"The  Unending  Sea-Serpent." 


!  his  clothing  and  his  unfortunate  fond- 
ness for  wearing  tight  top-boots.  Mr. 
Porterhouse  is  the  happy  possessor  of 
a  pair  of  these  top-boots  and  relates 
the  disastrous  results  of  his  resolve  to 
put  them  on.  He  succeeded,  but  it 
took  his  entire  household  two  hours 
to  pull  them  off. 


No  less  than  13s.  4</.,  or  twice  a 
solicitor's  minimum  fee,  was  asked  the 
other  day  for  a  copy  of  the  original 
edition  of  Mr.  Main  Bracefield's 
"  Bilgewater  Ballads,"  which  appeared 
in  the  early  nineties  and  is  now  out  of 


The  Napoleonic  era,  which  has  so 
profoundly  influenced  modern  Europe, 
has  never  had  a  more  penetrating 
exponent  than  Mr.  Clemco  Porterhouse. 
His  new  work,  Napoleon's  Wardrobe, 
gives  us  such  a  picture  of  the  Corsican's 
inner  life  as  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
monumental  works  of  LANFREY  or 
ROSE.  In  its  dazzling  pages,  which 
are  enriched  with  a  wealth  of  illustra- 
tions of  NAPOLEON'S  boots,  hats, 
breeches,  stockings,  etc.,  the  daring 
theory  is  propounded  that  the  policy 
of  the  great  conqueror  was  materially 
affected  by  the  unhygienic  character  of 


Mr.  John  Christopher  Bunson'u 
new  book  has  been  delayed  for  a  few 
weeks  owing  to  the  difficulty  which 
the  author  found  in  devising  an  entirely 
adequate  title.  His  publishers,  Messrs. 
Taper  and  Tode,  inform  us  that  no 
fewer  than  seventeen  provisional  titles 
were  successively  tried  before  the 
fastidious  author  was  finally  satisfied. 
Amongst  these  were  "  The  Peak  of 
Piety;"  "The  Eoad  of  Rectitude;" 
"  The  Pearls  of  Peace  ;  "  "  The  Glory  of 
Goodness  ;  "  "  The  Joyous  Guard ; " 
"  The  Serene  Stoker  ;  "  "  Magdalene 
Musings;",  "The  Gantillations  of  a 
Cantab ;  "  "  The  Pitch  of  Perfection." 


478 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


MR.  PUNCH  IN   THE   PAST. 

[After   the  custom  of   several  of   his   con- 
temporaries and  in  the  manner  of  himself.] 


IV. 

[Reproduced  from  '•  Punch"  of  1086.] 

"  HAMMELINE,"  I  said  sadly,  "  it  is 
now  twenty  years  since  at  the  call  of 
duty " 

"  Booty,"  interjected  Hamnieline 
with  all  a  woman's  shamelessness. 

"Twenty  years,"  I  harked  back, 
"  since  I  came  across  and  fought  at 
Senlac." 

"  I  have  always  taken  your  word  for 
it,"  said  Hammeline,  "  that  you  were 
not  still  sea-sick  on  the  day  of  the 
battle." 

"  Being  informed  that  I  had  pouched 
a    goodly    demesne,"    I  — 
continued,  ignoring  her, 
"  you  rashly  packed  up, 
put    the    seneschal    on 
board    wages,    and    fol- 
lowed    rne    hitherward. 
You    have    told    me    at 
intervals  ever  since  that ! 
your  action  was  not  pre- > 
mature.     Well,  Hamme- 
line, I  now  find  that  we  | 
should   be   doing   better  1 
with  our  three  acres  and  j 
a  cow  in  dear  old  Nor- < 
mandy.      I    understand 
from  this  cartel,"  I  said,  j 
handing  it  to  her,  "  that 
we  are  going  to  be  taxed." 

"  Taxed  ?  "  demanded 
Hammeline.  "  What  on 
earth  for?  " 

"  Because  of  our  land," 
I  said  bitterly — "  '  The 
land,  the  land  on  which 


of  the  document.    "  His  name  is  Eolfgar  ,  Conquest,  didn't  they?     And  now  al 
du  Nord.     Don't  you  know  anything  theso  people  who've  been  saying  the 


against    him?     He's    one    of    us, 
course." 

"  Of    course,"    I    said.      "  But 
afraid  he  must  be  since  my  time. 


of  land  was  theirs  ever  since  will  say  it 's 
ours  now,   to  escape   the   tax.     These 


I  in 
We 


can't  square  him — unless  you,  know  any 
details  of  his  career,  Henry,"  I  con- 
tinued hopefully,  turning  to  our  faithful 
scrivener. 

"I  fear,  my  lord,"  said  Henry,  "that 
Sir  Eolfgar  du  Nord  is  in  the  main 
line  of  descent  from  Sir  Kay  do  Calais 
— an  excellent  family  and  a  blameless 
youth." 

"I  wonder  if  lie's  still  unmarried," 
said  Hammeline. 

"  What  has  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 
I  said  irritably.  "The  point  is  that 
this  outrageous  robbery  of  the  fruits  of 


Tram-Conductor.  " 'AvE  I  'AD  YOUR  FABE,  SIR?" 

Mild  Man.  "En — NO;    BUT  I  THOUGHT  PERHAPS  I  DIDN'T  COUNT.' 


dear  old   days  when   'the  King 
the  land  to  the  Normans.'  " 


gave 


"  On  the  simple  understanding  that 
they  should  fight  for  him  when  required," 
said  Hammeline  indignantly. 

"  Of  course,"  I  said ;  "  but,  since  there 
haven't  been  any  wars  to  speak  of,  it 
appears  that  another  sort  of  quid  pro 
quo  will  be  extracted  from  us." 

"Oh,  well,  of  course,"  said  Hammeline 
decidedly,  "  we  simply  shan't  pay,  and 

f.V»*ai»a  *o    n  %-i    e\r\ft    f\f   •!*-    " 


we  stand,'  as  we  used  to  sing  in  the  j  conquest  (by  so-called  taxation)  can  be 
dear  old   davs  wli«n   'Uio  Tfinn    m.vo  no  more  avoided  than  Domesday." 

So  saying,  I  took  her  hand  in  mine, 
and,  standing  together  in  the  glow  of 
the  westering  sun,  we  looked  far  abroad 
with  eyes  grown  dim  on  the  acres  of 
our  goodly  heritage,  where  our  Saxon 
serfs  were  busily  ploughing  our — that 


fields  belong  to  Aelfred  the  Saxon,  anc 
you  mustn't  think  they  don't,  jusl 
because  we  help  him  with  his  harvesl 
now  and  then.  You  can  spell  his 
name  with  a  simple 'A,'"  she  continued 
quickly,  turning  to  Eolfgar's  scrivener 
"  The  diphthong  is  pure  swank." 

Eolfgar  laughed  good-humouredly 
and  bade  the  scrivener  make  a  note 
of  it. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  I,  seeing  (if  I  may 
so  phrase  it)  how  the  land  lay,  "  the 
poppet  knows  as  much  about  all  tins 
as  I  do.  Shall  I  leave  her  to  do  the 
honours,  Sir  Knight  ?  I  have  a  knave 
or  two  to  chastise.  See  you  at  dinner.' 
And  with  that  I  left 
them  to  it. 


I  understood  that  even- 
ing (Eolfgar  had  accepted 
Hammeline's  invitation 
to  stay  the  week-end  with 
us)  that  I  was  no  longer 
the  landed  proprietor 
thought  myself. 

"  All  the  same,"  said 
Eolfgar,  when  we  were 
alone  together,  "  I  was 
given  to  understand  that 
you'd  done  yourself 
rather  better  over  the 
Conquest  than  this." 
He  paused  inquiringly. 

"It 's  a  bit  awkward," 
I  confessed,  "  and  it 
worries  me;  for  I  am 
naturally  concerned 
about  the  future  inter- 
ests of  my  daughter.  I 


have  no  son." 
Eolfgar    flushed. 


•Ah,"    he    said 


there 's  an  end  of  it.' 

"  An  end  of  us,"  I  said.  " 
you  had  better  read  the 
Hammeline.  An  estate  duty 


I  think 

cartel, 

man  is 


coming  to  assess  us  on  Friday.  He 
calls  himself  a  commissioner,  so  that 
means  that  he  will  expect  to  dine  with 
the  family." 

Hammeline  called  the  scrivener  and 
jot  herself  posted  in  the  contents  of 
;he  cartel. 

"  This  is  the  man,"  she  said  at  last, 
pointing  triumphantly  to  a  twirly  part 


is,  their- — ancestral  soil. 

"Ah,  Hammeline,"  I  said  softly, 
"we  are  growing  old,  and  poverty 
stalks  towards  us.  We  cannot  afford 
to  feed  so  many  mouths.  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  hang  a  few  of  the  scullions." 

When  Eolfgar  du  Nord  and  I  rode 
forth  to  view  the  lands,  Maude  came 
with  us,  by  the  special  request  of  her 
mother.  And  ever  the  minx  rode  at 
the  saddle-bow  of  Eolfgar  and  prattled 
as  she  rode. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  "  the  difficulty 
is  that  we  really  don't  know  which  are 


our  lands,  and 
got    so    mixed 


which  aren't, 
at    the    time 


Things 
of    the 


eagerly,  "  what  you  want  is  a  young 
strong  hand  to  do  the  thing  thoroughly 
for  you — to  arrange  the  swearing  of 
the  jury,  and — 

"  Precisely,"  I  agreed.  "  Shall  we 
leave  it  at  that,  then  ?  "  I  produced 
my  comfit  case.  "  Do  you  take  sugar 
plums,  or  will  you  try  a /for  de  Nizza  ?  " 


"  The  nurse  whose  clothing  was  found  in  a 
ditch  at  Weston,  Bath,  has  left  for  Montreal 
in  a  liner." — Daily  Express. 

We  trust  she  was  accommodated  with 
a  private  cabin. 


"THE  STEWARDS'  STATEMENT. 
The  following  is  the  official  statement  of 
the  disqualification  of  Craganour  : — '  Having 
bumped  and  bored  tho  second  horse,  they 
disqualified  Craganour  and  awarded  tho  race 
to  Aboyeur.'  " — Times. 

So  it  was  the  Stewards  who  were  to 
blame. 


JUNE  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


479 


Oiiiitl 

i     -It,  )u.'  •  ill       JI  Ji    •  i  i,; 

•  -~-$Ai 

Bf.ff4  !;^!P& 

(7"!^-^i(.  HJ£$:  iJ,:  "'*»' 

kVI"  WJL^fl1 


Gentleman  (returning  after  Ute  interval).  "I'D  LIKE  YOU  TO  KXOW,  SIB,  THAT  YOU 'BE  SITTING  ON  MY  HAT!     D' Y» 
HEAB  ME?"  Gentleman  with  a  soft  Itat  (interested  in  play).  "ALL  RIGHT,  YOU  CAN  SIT  ON  MINE." 


ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 
WIRELESS. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  daisy 
who  conceived  a  fierce  passion  for 
another  daisy  a  few  inches  away.  He 
would  look  at  this  daisy  hour  after 
hour  with  mute  longing.  It  was  im- 
possible to  tell  his  love,  because  she 
was  too  far  off,  for  daisies  have 
absurdly  weak  voices.  They  have  eyes 
of  gold  and  the  most  dazzling  linen, 
but  their  voices  are  ridiculous. 

One  day  by  happy  chance  a  bronze- 
wing  butterfly  flitted  into  the  meadow, 
and  the  daisy  saw  it  passing  from  one 
to  another  of  his  companions,  settling 
for  a  few  moments  on  each.  Bronze- 
wings  are  partial  to  daisies.  He  was 
an  ingenious  and  enterprising  fellow, 
this  flower — something,  in  fact,  of  a 
"  card,"  as  they  say  in  the  Five  Fields 
— and  an  idea  suddenly  came  to  him 
which  not  only  would  enable  his 
Incest  wish  to  be  realised  but  might 
be  profitable,  too. 

It  was  an  idea,  however,  that  could 
be  carried  out  only  with  the  assistance 
of  the  bronze-wing,  and  he  trembled 
with  anxiety  and  apprehension  lest  the 
butterfly  should  pass  him  by. 

At  last,  however,  after  half-a-dozen 
false  approaches  which  nearly  reduced 


the  daisy  to  the  condition  of  an  ane- 
mone, the  bronze-wing  settled  right  on 
his  head. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  said  the  daisy. 
"  You  're  just  the  person  I  wanted  to 
see." 

"  Good  afternoon,"  said  the  bronze- 
wing.  "  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  daisy,  "the  fact  is 
I  have  a  message  for  a  lady  over  there. 
Would  you  take  it  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  the  bronze- 
wing  ;  and  the  daisy  whispered  a  loving 
message  to  him. 

"  Which  one  is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  when 
ready  to  start. 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?  Why,  that  beau- 
tiful one  just  over  there,"  said  the  daisy. 

"  They  all  look  alike  to  me,"  said  the 
bronze-wing. 

"  Foolish  myope,"  said  the  daisy. 
"  There 's  only  one  really  beautiful  one." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  bronze-wing ; 
"but  you  mustn't  call  me  names,"  and 
off  he  flitted. 

Presently  he  came  back  and  whis- 
pered the  reply,  which  was  so  satis- 
factory that  the  edge  of  the  daisy's 
dazzling  white  ruff  turned  pink. 

"  Now,"  said  the  bronze-wing,  "what 
about  my  payment?  " 

"Well,"  said  the  daisy,  "my  idea  is 
that  you  should  devote  yourself. wholly 


to  this  meadow  and  the  daisies  in  it. 
There  are  enough  of  us  to  keep  you 
going.  You  won't  have  to  travel  and 
get  tired,  and  you  '11  be  safe  because  no 
boys  with  butterfly  nets  " — the  bronze- 
wing  shuddered — "  have  ever  been  seen 
here.  You  will  become  our  Mercury 
and  keep  us  all  in  communication.  And 
in  return — 

"  Yes ?  "said  the  bronze-wing  eagerly. 

"  In  return  we  will  refuse  the  atten- 
tions of  other  visitors;  all  our  honoy 
shall  be  for  you.  All  our  energies  shall 
go  to  providing  you  with  the  best." 

"  Done,"  said  the  bronze-wing. 

"  Better  make  a  start  at  once,"  said 
the  card.  "  Here  's  another  message 
for  that  lady ; "  and  he  whispered 
again  ;  and  off  the  bronze-wing  flitted. 

He  was  soon  back  with  the  reply, 
which  turned  the  edges  of  the  daisy's 
ruff  pinker  than  before. 

"  Now  tell  her  this,"  said  the  daisy. 

"But  what  about  the  rest  of  the 
field  ?  "  asked  the  bronze- wing. 

"  Never  mind  about  anyone  else," 
said  the  lover. 


A  Stonewaller. 

"  E.  Boorer  played  a  fine  not  out  innings  of 
58  for  Ballards  against  Glynde  on  Saturday, 
and  for  the  same  team  14.  H.  Higham  took 
five  weeks  for  44." — Sussex  County  Herald. 


480 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^ 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


MARVELS  OF  THE  METROPOLIS. 

THANKS  to  the  courtesy  of  our  con- 
temporary we  are  enabled  to  print  the 
following  selection  from  the  correspond- 
ence which  will  appear  in  the  forth- 
coming number  of  The  Dictator : — 
THE  BIRD  AND  THE  BALL. 

SIR,— While  playing  golf  lately  on 
the  Hanger  Hill  course  I  had  an  ex- 
traordinary experience  which  may  per- 
haps interest  some  of  your  readers. 
As  I  was  lofting  my  approach  to  the 
second  hole  you  may  imagine  my 
astonishment  when  I  saw  a  bird  swoop 
down,  seize  the  ball  in  mid-air  and 
carry  it  off.  The  really  extraordinary 
point  about  the  episode  remains  yet  to 
be  told.  The  bird  was  a  Nuthatch,  and 
the  golf-ball  was  a  Colonel. 

I  am,  Sir,        OFFLEY  PHIBBS. 
"Luneville,"  West  Baling. 

[We  are  delighted  to  print  Mr. 
Phibbs's  well-authenticated  anecdote. 
What  renders  the  feat  of  the  bird  so 
remarkable  is  that  a  nuthatch  is  such 
a  small  bird.  But  size  is  no  criterion 
of  strength.  The  Hamals,  or  porters,  at 
Constantinople  are  often  quite  small 
men,  though  one  of  them  has  been 
known  to  carry  a  grand  piano  on  his 
back. — ED.,  Dictator.] 

NORTH  LONDON  NOVELTIES. 

SIR, — The  variety  of  wild  birds 
frequenting  the  metropolitan  area  has 
been  illustrated  by  your  Hampstead 
correspondent.  May  I  contribute  my 
own  experiences,  derived  from  my  resi- 
dence in  Harringay?  On  April  1st,  I 
saw  two  red-shanked  bandicoots  settle 
on  my  asparagus  bed.  On  April  19th, 
at  4.30  A.M.,  I  distinctly  heard  the  note 
of  the  lesser  pilliwink,  though  I  failed 
to  see  the  bird  itself.  Finally,  on  May 
2nd,  I  saw  a  flock  of  almond-crested 
macaroons  flying  at  a  great  height  over 
the  Highbury  Athenaeum. 

Yours,    SAPPHIRA  MUNCHAUSEN. 
Hotel  Splendide,  Mendax, 
Corea,  Crete. 

[Miss  (or  is  it  Mrs.  ?)  Munchausen's 
record  is  profoundly  interesting.  Per- 
sonally, we  had  hitherto  associated 
macaroons  exclusively  with  confec- 
tionery, but  journalists  live  and  learn. 
The  bandicoot  is  described  in  The 
Standard  Dictionary  as  "  a  rat-like 
perameloid  marsupial  of  Australia  " ; 
in  this  case  they  presumably  made  their 
way  to  Harringay  from  the  docks. 
How  admirably  expressive  a  name  the 
pilliwink  is !  Assuredly  the  old  bird- 
namers  were  masters  in  the  art  of 
onomatopoeia. — ED.,  Dictator.] 

A  TALKING  OWL. 

Sin, — The    following    story   of    the 
intelligence  of  an  owl,  for  which  my 


whole  family  are  prepared  to  vouch, 
will,  1  trust,  find  a  corner  in  your 
esteemed  journal,  of  which  1  have  been 
a  constant  reader  for  the  last  eighty- 
five  years,  having  been  born  at  Thames 
Ditton  in  the  year  1814.  Some  months 
ago  I  trapped  a  fine  young  owl  in  an 
elm  tree  which  grew  in  my  garden  in 
Pimlico,  and  gave  it  lessons  in  talking. 
Owls  will  soon  acquire  an  extensive 
vocabulary  if  fed  on  macaroni  and 
dormice,  and  they  never  use  bad  lan- 
guage. Indeed,  one  lesson  was  sufficient 
to  break  my  pupil  of  the  bad  habit  of 

saving    "  To    who "    instead    of    "  To 

t       » 

whom. 

I  am,  Sir,      Yours,  etc., 

JONAH  SWALLOW. 
The  Green  House,  Peckham  Rye. 

[It  is  always  a  pleasure  to  print  one 
of  Mr.  Swallow's  letters,  which  abound 
in  the  mellow  wisdom  of  age  combined 
with  the  alert  sympathy  of  perennial 
youth.  It  is  curious  to  learn  on  such 
good  authority  of  the  fine  moral  of 
owls.  Can  any  of  our  readers  explain 
why  parrots,  on  the  other  hand,  are  so 
passionately  addicted  to  ornamental 
execration  ? — ED.,  Dictator.] 

A  CAT  AND  BIRD  FIGHT. 

SIR, — While  recently  walking  in  the 
Euston  Eoad  I  was  astonished  to  see, 
perched  on  the  summit  of  a  piece  of 
monumental  masonry,  a  full  -  grown 
capercailzie  defending  itself  in  resolute 
fashion  against  the  attack  of  a  large 
Persian  cat.  As  I  had  an  important 
engagement  in  the  City  I  was  un- 
fortunately unable  to  witness  the  result 
of  the  conflict,  and  on  calling  at  the 
monumental  mason's  house  next  day 
could  gain  no  information  on  the  sub- 
ject. Is  it  possible  that  I  was  suffering 
from  an  optical  illusion  ? 

I  am,  Sir,      Yours,  etc., 

AUGUSTUS  TWIGG. 
The  Bungalow,  Wapping. 

[The  capercailzie  is  seldom  seen  in 
these  isles  except  in  the  Highlands. 
We  cannot  help  thinking  this  was  a 
Siberian  bird  which  had  escaped  from 
cold  storage.  The  animosity  of  the 
Persian  cat  was  probably  due  to  racial 
antipathy,  inflamed  by  recent  events  at 
Teheran. — ED.,  Dictator.] 


The  Toy  Dog  Craze. 
"  Miss  Asquith  appeared  in  a  charming 
gown  of  mauve  moirf,  the  corsage  composed 
of  mauve  chiffon  embroidered  in  mauve,  green, 
and  pale  pink,  gracefully  draped  and  caught 
with  a  shaded  purple  puppy." — The  StaiularS. 


The  Prime  Minister  Masquerades. 

"  Mr.  Asquith  wore  a  striking  and  beautiful 
black  gown  with  sphinx  embroidery  graduated 
below  the  waist  and  terminating  with  hand- 
some tassels." — Western  Mail. 


SELLING  THE  DUMMY. 

I  MET  Christine  accidentally  at  the 
bottom  of  the  Haymarket. 

"  You!  "  I  said. 

"  From  top  to  toe,"  she  said.  "  What 
a  good  guess !  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said  ;  "  and  I  have  guessed 
something  else,  too.  You  are  coming 
to  tea  with  me." 

"  Ought  I  ?  "  said  Christine. 

"There  is  little  doubt  about  it,"  I 
said.  "  In  fact,  it  is  written  in  the 
Book  of  Fate." 

"  Not  in  my  pocket  edition,"  said 
Christine,  drawing  a  little  silver-backed 
tablet  from  her  muff  and  reading : 
"  Dressmaker,  4.  Tea  witli  Charles, 
4.45." 

We  were  now  opposite  the  Inglenook. 

"  Capital !  "  I  said.  "  Come  in  here. 
Charles  is  sure  to  be  here." 

"  I  'm  sure  he  won't ;  he  is  waiting 
for  me  elsewhere." 

"  London  is  full  of  Charleses,"  I  said. 
"  Did  you  say  muffins,  tea-cake,  or 
toast  ?  " 

We  were  firmly  seated  now,  and  I 
was  tackling  very  strongly. 

"  Muffins  and  crumpets,"  said  Chris- 
tine, "  then  I  can  really  forget  Charles." 

"  I  had  already  forgotten  Charles,"  I 
said.  "  He  is  now  at  Oxford  Circus 
eagerly  scanning  each  Bayswater  'bus 
as  it  comes  in  sight ;  or,"  I  added,  "  he 
is  keeping  another  appointment."  It 
was  mean,  but  everything  counts  in 
love.  Besides,  it  didn't  matter ;  Chris- 
tine was  too  busy  to  notice  it. 

It  was  at  fchis  point  that  I  suddenly 
remembered  that  when  I  met  Christine 
I  had  just  paid  away  £2  7s.  3d.  for 
some  shirts  and  other  things.  Had  I 
enough  money  to  pay  for  the  tea? 
I  felt  furtively  in  my  pocket.  Sixpence 
and  three  coppers ! 

"  Come,"  I  said,  "  let  us  leave  this 
place." 

"  You  've  been  looking  at  picture  post- 
cards," said  Christine.  "  1  'm  certain 
I  saw  almost  those  very  words  on  one 
yesterday.  Why  should  we  leave? 
I  'm  just  getting  into  my  game." 

"  I  've  taken  a  dislike  to  the  wall- 
paper," I  said  evasively.  "  Besides, 
my  conscience  is  pricking  me  about 
Charles." 

Outwardly  I  was  calm,  inwardly  all 
was  strife  and  turmoil. 

"Christine,"  1  said,  "observe  me 
closely.  Do  I  look  like  a  man  in  need? " 

"  Poor  man,  help  yourself  to  a 
crumpet." 

"  Seriously,"  I  said,  "  can  you  lend 
me  five  bob  ?  I  can't  pay  the  Food 
Tax." 

"  Abs.  imposs. !  I  left  my  purse  at 
home,"  said  Christine.  "  I  haven't  a 
sou." 


JUNE  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


481 


The  Elder  (to  loafer).  "  WEEL,  MB.  MCDONALD,  WHAT  CHURCH  DO  YE  BELONO  TXE?" 

McDonald.  "  IT 's  LIKE  THIS,  MB.  MCPHEEBSON.    I  CANNA  BICHTLY  BE  SAID  TAB  GANG  TAB  ONY  EIBK,  BCT  IT'S  THE  AULD  KIBK 

I   STAY  AWA  FBAE." 


"To  think,"  I  said,  "that  I  cannot 
rely  on  you — you  whom  I  have  fed  and 
sheltered — from  Charles." 

"  Charles,"  said  Christine  severely, 
"would  not  have  done  this  evil  thing." 

"  Any  way,"  I  said,  "  they  can't  tear 
the  muffins  from  us.  You  have  seen 
to  that." 

Christine  sighed. 

"  There  are  ways,"  I  said,  "  dark  and 
devious  ways,  known  only  to  a  chosen 
few,  of  extricating  oneself  from  such 
quandaries." 

"You  can't  hurry  out  absent-mindedly 
with  the  bill  in  your  hand  here,"  said 
Christine.  "  You  pay  the  waitress,  not 
at  the  desk." 

"  I  must  fall  back  on  cards,"  I  said, 
taking  no  notice  of  her.  "  It  is  a  pity 
that  all  those  in  my  case  at  the 
moment  are  other  people's.  Ah  !  "  I 
said,  glancing  over  them,  "here  is  one, 
with  the  Athenaeum  Club  on  the  corner. 
This  should  keep  Scotland  Yard  at  bay 
till  I  can  get  back  from  my  rooms  witl* 
the  money.  Farewell,"  I  said.  "  If 
this  doesn't  come  off  all  right,  you  will 
break  it  to  my  friends,  won't  you,  and 
perhaps  you  will  even  come  to  see  me 
on  visiting-day  ?  " 

She  did  not  move. 


"  Leave  me,"  I  said,  "  to  face  this 
alone.  Such  scenes  are  not  for  one 
who  has  been  delicately  and  expensively 
nurtured.  Are  you  sure  you  have 
finished  tea?  " 

Christine  ignored  my  remark,  though 
it  was  meant  kindly. 

"  I  shall  stand  by  you,"  she  said. 

"  May  I  hold  your  hand,"  I  asked, 
"  when  the  supreme  moment  arrives  ? 
I  am  just  going  to  ask  for  the 
Manageress." 

"  I  shall  stand — er— just  near  the 
door,"  said  Christine,  "  in — in  case — 

While  Christine  was  standing  by 
the  door,  gazing  into  the  street,  I 
waited  the  coming  'of  the  Manageress. 
Happening  to  feel  in  the  left-hand  top 
pocket  of  my  waistcoat  for  my  card- 
case,  to  see  if  I  had  a  better  card  to 
play,  I  found  something  hard  there. 
A  half-sovereign,  by  Jove!  I  got  up 
hurriedly  to  break  the  good  news,  and 
found  the  Manageress  standing  before 
me. 

"  Oh — ah  !  "  I  said.  "  Yes — my  friend 
particularly  wished  me  to — er — con- 
gratulate you  on  your — your  rnuffets 
and  crumpins.  They  're  perfect.  Can 
I  have  my  bill,  please '?  .  .  .  Don't 
mention  it.  Good  afternoon  1 " 


When  I  rejoined  Christine,  she  said, 
"  Tell  me  quickly,  are  you  on  ticket-of- 
leave  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,"  I  said,  "  what  do 
you  mean  ?  I  paid  the  bill,  of  course. 
I  was  only  testing  your  courage." 

"  I  shall  have  tea  with  Charles  next 
time,"  was  all  she  said. 


The  Difference. 

One  side  (according  to  Radical 
members  of  the  Committee)  makes 
party  capital  out  of  Marconi's;  the 
other  side  invests  party  capital  in 
Marconi's. 

KEATS  on  Lord  MURRAY  OF  ELIBANK 
(prior  to  the  despatcli  of  his  cables) : — 
"  Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

"TRAGIC  AFFAIR  IN  MANCHESTER. 

LANCASHIRE  FOLLOW  ON." 
"  Manchester  Evening  News  "  placard. 
That  is  the  true  spirit. 


1 '  After  lunch  the  batsmen  were  so  helpless 
that  the  remaining  eight  fell  in  forty-five 
minutes  for  18." — Westminster  Gazette. 
A  clear  case  for  abolishing  the  lunch 
interval  too — or  making  it  strictly  tee- 
total. 


482 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


-ft. 


HINTS   TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW   TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

III.  BE  ORIGINAL  IS  YOUR  CHOICE  OP  PETS  AND  GET  THE  FACT  REPORTED  IN  THH  TAPEE3. 


REST   FREE; 

OB,  THE  DEAD-HEAD  IN  KENSINGTON  GARDENS. 
(Showing  hoii'  the  poet  who  made  complaint  last  week  that 
his  solitude  was  disturbed  by  the  tax-gatherer  in 
St.  James's  Park  should  hare  chosen  a  neighbouring 
pleasaunce  for  repose.) 

LONG,  long  ago,  before  the  shadows  fell 

So  slant  across  the  undulating  lea, 
Here  to  the  hallowed  precincts  of  this  dell 
Sacred  to  afternoon  patisserie, 

Try  to  recall,  dear  waiter,  how  there  came 
A  youth  all  flushed  with  hope,  with  heart  aflame, 
And  sat  on  this  green  chair  and  asked  for  tea. 

Lonely  he  was,  but  all  about  him  sat 

Deep  feeding  revellers ;  the  pigeons  swerved 
Pompous  as  aldermen,  with  waists  as  fat, 
After  the  dusty  sparrows  brazen-nerved 

Who  stole  their  breadcrumbs ;  but  amid  the  press 
No  straw-crowned  Ariels  in  evening  dress 
Came  to  inquire  if  he  was  being  served. 

A  whispering  rose  at  last  among  the  leaves ; 
Less  hotly  glared  the  post-meridian  sun  ; 
And  Time,  who  solaces  all  wounds  and  weaves 
His  poppy  over  hearts  with  toil  fordone, 

Brought  him  unconsciousness ;  at  last  he  dozed, 
A  wan  smile  flickering  o'er  his  lips  half-closed 
And  murmuring  to  the  table,  "  Tea  for  one." 


And  now  what  vast  impertinence !     You  dare 

To  wake  this  Eip  van  Winkle  from  his  sleep ! 
Look  how  the  silver  shines  amidst  my  hair; 
In  this  cold  bosom  now  no  passions  leap. 
Remove  the  hardware.     Take  away  the  hofc 
Buns  of  a  boyhood's  fancy  long  forgot. 
Give  those  grass  sandwiches  to  some  poor  sheep. 

The  place  is  silent  now ;  the  guests  are  gone ; 

The  birds  have  staggered  from  the  cake-strewn  floor ; 
I  feel  imperious  dinner  creeping  on ; 

To  stuff  myself  with  bread  would  be  a  bore ; 
I  shall  not  pay  you,  but  some  day,  mayhap, 
I  shall  come  back  to  you  and  take  a  nap 
After  my  teatime,  Heinrich,  not  before. 

I  like  repose  untroubled.    Yonder  waif — 

You  know  him  with  the  ever  tireless  feet 
Prowling  for  pennies  ?    Here  a  man  is  safe 

From  all  his  huckstering.     When  you  next  shall  meet 
Tell  him,  oh,  Heinrich,  the  amusing  tale 
Of  how  I  sat  within  the  Garden's  pale 
For  two  full  hours  and  paid  not  for  my  seat. 

.  EVOB. 

"  Less  than  three  hours'  cricket  at  Lord's  yesterday  served  to  give 
the  Navy  a  ten  wickets'  victory  over  the  Army.  The  Army,  however, 
were  only  left  20  to  get  to  win,  which  was  done  without  loss." 

The  Scotsman. 

So  both  won.     The  brightening  of  cricket  still  goes  on. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JUNK  18,   1913. 


FOE   THE    SPOILS! 

KING  PETEK  THE  HEEMIT.  "  ONE   MORE   CRUSADE !— THIS   TIME   AGAINST    OUR   CHRISTIAN 

ALLIES  I", 

[Happily  the  intervention  of  the  TSAR  has  checked  the  bellicose  zeal  of  the  above  Crusader.] 


JUNK  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


485 


ESSENCE   OF    PARLIA- 
MENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  TUB  DIARY  OB' 
TOBY,  M.I'.) 

House  of  Commons,  Mon- 
day, June  9. — Resounding 
cheer  greeted  PREMIER  when 
he  rose  to  move  Second 
Beading  of  Home  Rule  Bill, 
which  thus  entered  upon 
second  lap  of  race  that  will 
automatically  terminate  in 
the  third.  Whilst  storm  of 
cheering  rose  and  fell  PRINCE 
AKTHUH,  charged  with  mis- 
sion of  moving  rejection  of 
measure,  entered  from  behind 
SPEAKER'S  Chair.  Now  the 
turn  of  Unionists  to  cheer. 
Did  their  duty  lustily;  Minis- 
terialists wound  up  to  fresh 
response. 

Thus  business  merrily  began 
with  inspiriting  appearance 
of  hearts  profoundly  stirred. 
But  House  of  Commons,  in 
spite  of  frequent  appearances 
to  the  contrary,  is,  after  all, 
a  business  assembly.  .  It 
recognises  fact  that  under  existing 
statutes  and  circumstances  this  per- 
formance of  a  second  time  of  asking, 
with  the  full  formulae  of  Second 
Reading,  Committee  and  Third  Read- 
ing, is  a  mere  ceremony.  For  all 
practical  purposes  it  might  be  clattered 
through  in  an  hour.  Under  pro- 
visions of  Parliament  Act  there  is  no 
possibility  of  amending  Bill  in  current 
session.  You  may  make  suggestions  if 
you  like  and  have  nothing  better  to  do 
at  home.  But  the  Bill,  as  it  was  last 
session  carried  by  overwhelming  major- 
ities after  prolonged  debate,  must  needs 
be  presented  next  session  in  the  same 
textual  form. 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  will  crisis  be 
reached. 

PREMIER  naturally  rose  to 
the  occasion.  Constitutionally 
averse  from  word-spinning.  No 
use  going  back  to  burnish  up 
in  rhetorical  form  old  arguments 
in  favour  of  Home  Rule.  That 
stage  over  and  done  with  whilst 
Bill  still  awaited  decision  of 
Commons.  Accordingly  chiefly 
confined  speech,  which  barely 
passed  half-hour  limit,  to  analy- 
sis of  situation  as  affected  by 
recent  by  -  elections.  Recalled 
fact  that  of  twenty-one  taking 
place  since  Home  Rule  Bill 
was  introduced  the  Government 
have  lost  four  seats  and  gained 
one.  Total  vote  cast  for  Minis- 
terial Candidates  was  121,269, 
for  Unionist  Candidates  105,568. 


PRINCE  ARTHUB  as  Champion  of  Ulster. 

i  That,  PREMIER  diffidently  submitted, 
I  did  not  indicate  revulsion  of  feeling 
'  against  the  Bill. 

As    PRINCE    ARTHUR    noted,    most 

,  important   statement   was   declaration 

;  that  demand  of  Opposition  for  another 

;  General  Election  before  enactment  of 

Bill  will  not  be  conceded. 

Business  done. — Home  Rule  Bill  up 
again  for  Second  Reading.  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  in  vigorous  speech  replied  on 
behalf  of  Ulster  with  emphatic  "  No." 

Tuesday. — A  lively  night  at  last. 
Fighting  all  round  with  the  gloves  off. 
j  CARSON  opened  debate  in  what  JOHN 
REDMOND  described  as  "  the  most 
violent  speech  he  had  made  in  the 
House  since  Home  Rule  Bill  was 


"  Not  lacking  in  vigour." 
(Sir  E.  CARSON.) 


introduced."  Certainly  not 
lacking  in  vigour.  In  re- 
sponse to  an  nounced  intention 
of  Government  to  carry  the 
Bill  he  openly,  categorically, 
declared  in  favour  of  armed 
resistance.  This  so  worked 
upon  feelings  of  CHARLIE 
BERESFORD  that,  hitching  up 
trousers  conveniently  roomy 
at  the  knee,  he  volunteered, 
nay  announced  himself  re- 
solved, to  be  "  the  first  man 
to  be  shot  down." 

CARSON'S    bitterest   oppo- 
nents   recognise    in    him    a 
man  who  gives   more   than 
lip-service  to  the  cause   he 
haa  espoused.     His    loyalty 
to  Ulster  is  marked  in  figures 
written  on  the  back  of  briefs 
returned  in  order  that  one  of 
the  ablest,    most   successful 
counsel  at  the  Bar  may  devote 
his  time,  talents  and  energies 
to  what  he  honestly  believes 
to    be    the    welfare    of    his 
country.     For  this  reason  his 
biting  sarcasm,  his  thunder- 
ing  denunciation    of    Home 
Rule  and  all  concerned  in  its  propaga- 
tion were,  with  one  deplorable  exception, 
listened  to  on  the  Ministerial  Benches 
with  respectful  forbearance. 

Nevertheless  they  gave  tone  to  debate 
that  followed,  infusing  it  with  hotly 
contentious  spirit  that  sharply  con- 
trasted with  yesterday's  decorous  duel 
between  PKEMIEH  and  PRINCE  ARTHUR. 
DEVLIN  in  his  element.  Not  enjoyed 
so  pleasant  an  evening  for  a  long  time. 
Silver-tongued  AUGUSTINE,  not  heard 
of  late  save  at  Question  time,  wound  up 
debate  in  lively  speech.  House  much 
enjoyed  hrief  chapter  of  autobiography. 
Protesting  that  religious  bigotry  is  at 
bottom  of  the  trouble  in  Ulster,  he 
added,  "  I  have  had  curious  experiences 
during  my  official  life,  first  at 
the  Board  of  Education  and 
then  in  Ireland.  I  have  been 
brought  into  close  personal 
contact  with  Cardinals  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  and  the  Arch- 
bishop of  CANTERBURY,  and," 
he  concluded  with  pious  fervour, 
"I  commend  them  all  to  God." 
Big  Ben  had  just  tolled 
half-past  eleven  when  PRINCE 
ARTHUR'S  amendment  for  re- 
jection of  the  Bill  was  put  from 
the  Chair.  For  it  there  voted 
270  against  368,  representing 
Ministerial  majority  of  98, 
three  less  than  carried  same 
stage  of  the  Bill  last  year. 
Second  Reading  was  thereupon 
agreed  to  without  division  and  the 
throng  broke  up,  Ministerialists 


486 


PUNCH,  OE  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


enthusiastically  cheering  the  PREMIE 
as  he  passed  out. 

Jiusiness    done, — Home    Rule    Bi 
read  a  second  time. 

Friday.—"  Lycidas  is  dead !  "     No 
ere  his  prime  hut  in  its  very  fulness 
which   makes?    the   sudden    end    mor 
tragic.     On  Monday,  when  House  wa 
crowded  in  anticipation  of  renewal  o 
long   waged  fight  round   Home  Eule 
for  Ireland,  news  came  that   GEORGE 
WYXDHAM  lay  dead  in  a  Paris  hotel 
The    Irish    question    was    intimatelj 
bound    up    with    the    threads   of    his 
political  life.    A   sudden  turn   fatall) 
entangled  them,  arresting  forward  pro 
gress   that  seemed  to  lead  to  loftiesl 
plane  of  political  ambition. 

A  cynical  fate  that  news  of  his  sudden 
cutting  off  should  have  enforced  prelude 
of  personal  regret  on  part  of  PRIME 
MINISTER  and  LEADER  OF  OPPOSITION 
rising  to  confront  each  other  across  the 
Table  on  the  war-worn  theme.  It  was 
chivalrous  attempt  to  solve  this  ques- 
tion whilst  he  was  still  Chief  Secretary 
for  Ireland  that  roused  Ulster  to  storm 
of  resentment  before  which  the  descen- 
dant of  Lord  EDWARD  FITZGERALD  fell, 
not  to  rise  again  to  his  former  position. 
As  PREMIER  said,  in  him  the  House 
loses  an  attractive  personality.  Hand- 
some in  appearance,  courtly  in  manner, 
his  mind  touched  with  the  tender 
light  of  imagination  and  poetry,  he 
brightened  and  adorned  debate  when- 
ever he  took  part  in  it.  This  more 
especially  true  of  speeches  before 
his  forced  retirement  from  Ministerial 
office.  For  a  while  he  thereafter  with- 
drew into  obscurity  to  nurse  poignant 
sorrow.  Of  late  he  had  recovered 


"Resolved  to  be  '  the  first  man  to  be 

sbot  down."  " 
(Lord  CHARLES  BERESFORD.) 


something    of    his    former    gaiety    o 
manner,    and    might,    had    life    been 
spared  and  his  Party  recaptured  their 
old  predominance,  found  his  fortunes 
re-established.    But 

Comes  the  blind  Fury  with  the  abhorre< 

shears 
And  slits  the  thin-spun  life. 

PRINCE   ARTHUR,   who   in   faltering 
voice   echoed   the    PREMIER'S   lament 


"Silver-tongued  Augustine." 
(Mr.  BIRBELI/.) 

spoke  of  his  lost  friend's  "great  literary 
and  imaginative  powers,  which  had 
never  received  their  full  expansion  and 
,heir  full  meed  of  praise,  perhaps  their 
ull  theatre  in  which  to  show  them- 
selves." GEORGE  WYNDHAM,  the  public 
are  apt  to  forget,  if  indeed  they  ever 
mew,  was,  in  addition  to  being  a 
statesman,  a  poet  and  a  prose  writer  of 
distinction. 

Who  would  not  sing  for  Lycidas  ?  he  knew 
Himself  to  sing,  and  build  the  lofty  rhyme. 

In  the  general  mourning  there  will 

not  be  lacking  kindly  thought  of  the 

jracious  lady,  his  helpmate  and  wife 

hrough  twenty-four  momentous  years. 

Business  done. — In  Committee  of 
Supply. 

"  Old-world  Manor  House,  containing  six 
jed  rooms  ...  five  billiard  rooms." 

Advt.  in  "  Tlie  Times." 
Slot  enough  for  us.     One  billiard-room 
o  every  bed-room,  we  say. 


From  an  Examination  Paper : 

"The  Renaissance  was  inaugurated  by  the 

nvention  of  printing  and  of  gunpowder  which 

ut  an  end  to  the  Middle  Ages." 

'  Ceci  tuera  cela,"  as  VICTOR  HUGO  said 

f  printing  in  relation  to  architecture ; 

ut  gunpowder  is,  of  course,  still  more 

ffective. 


A  WEAPON. 

"  WHO  was  that  ?  "  demanded  my 
wife  as  I  returned  to  the  luncheon 
table  after  seeing  my  visitor  off  at  the 
garden  gate. 

"  It  was  a  railway  man." 
"  It  didn't  look  like  a  railway  man. 
It  was  much  too  splendid." 

I  glanced  carelessly  at  a  card  which 
I  still  held  in  my  hand. 

"  He  came  from  the  head  office,".  I 
remarked,  trying  not  to  lay  any  stress 
upon  the  fact.  But  I  ought  to  explain 
that  we  live  in  a  very  quiet  way  and 
this  sort  of  thing  does  not  often  happen 
to  us.  As  I  anticipated,  my  wife  was 
considerably  impressed. 

"Do  you  think  he  was  a  Super- 
intendent or  something?  " 

"  Either  that  or  a  General  Manager," 
said  I. 

"  What  did  he  want  ?  " 

"It  was  purely  a  business  matter," 
said  I.  "  I  don't  suppose  it  will 
interest  you.  The  water  at  the  station 
cottages  has  been  condemned  and  he 
wished  to  consult  me  about  a  new 
supply.  They  want  to  tap  our  pipe  at 
the  top  of  the  lane  and  take  it  from 
there." 

Cheek ! "  said  my  wife,  bridling. 
(I  think  that  is  what  they  call  it.  My 
wife  often  does  it.) 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I  mildly,  "that 
it  need  necessarily  be  classed  as  cheek. 
We  happen  to  have  the  only  decent 
supply  in  the  parish  and  I  don't 
suppose  he  can  get  it  anywhere  else." 

"  So  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  my 
wife  with  much  deliberation,  "  that 
ie  waits  till  we  have  brought  water- 
down  off  the  hill  at  enormous  expense 
and  then  calmly  has  the  face  to  sug- 
gest  " 

"  I  didn't  tell  him  he  could  have  it." 

"  Well,  I  should  hope  not." 

"  But  I  don't  see  why  he  shouldn't," 
[  added. 

My  wife  suddenly  launched  into  a 
denunciation  of  the  Great  Scottish 
Railway.  "  It  "s  just  like  them  !  "  she 
said.  "They  never  will  do  anything 
'or  themselves.  They  won't  build 
cottages  or  repair  the  old  ones,  and  you 
inow  perfectly  well  that  you  have  had 
;rouble  for  years  about  their  polluting 
/he  stream  that  goes  through  the 
meadow,  and  the  station  is  filthy  and 
not  properly  lighted,  and  they  lost  that 
Dortmanteau  of  Uncle  Robert's  seven 
years  ago,  and  the  train  service  is 
abominable  and  getting  worse." 

"There's  plenty  of  water  to  go 
round,"  said  I,  "and  of  course  they 
will  have  to  pay  a  reasonable  price  for 
t. 

Reasonable!"  said  my  wife  scorn- 
ully.  .  "  This  isn't  a  case  for  anything 


JUNE  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


487 


ALL  THE  MOST 


OBVIOUS 


FOB  NESTIXO 


BEIXG   OCCUPIED. 


A  LATE  N ESTER  IIAS  HAD  TO  FALL  BACK 
OK  AN  OLD-FASHIONED  TREE.  EXCITEMENT 
IN  THE  NEWSPAPER  WOBLD  ! 


reasonable.  Why,  can't  you  see  that 
you  have  got  them  in  your  power  at 
last  ?  " 

"  How  ?  " 

"  They  must  have  the  water.  Don't 
you  sea  that  you  can  squeeze  them  ?  " 

That  gave  me  food  for  thought. 
There  was  something  arresting  in  the 
idea  of  squeezing  the  Great  Scottish 
Railway  Company.  And,  as  I  have 
said,  we  live  in  a  quiet  way. 

"  What  did  you  say  to  the  man'?  " 

"  I  said  I  would  consider  it  and  let 
him  know." 

"  Well,  write  and  tell  him  that  if  he 
will  stop  the  London  express " 

"I  don't  suppose  that  that  is  his 
department,  exactly." 

"  Nonsense.  The  whole  thing  must 
hang  together.  Come  into  the  other 
room  and  work  it  out.  People  can't 
expect  water  for  nothing." 

On  looking  back  upon  it  now,  I  see 
that  my  wife  succeeded  in  over-riding 
my  better  judgment  that  afternoon. 
I  am  not  by  nature  a  blackmailer. 
The  following  was  the  schedule  of  our 
minimum  demands : — 

(1)  An  annual  royalty  of  £6  17s.  9rf. 
lo  be  paid— being  a  poor  interest  upon 


my  outlay  in  bringing  the  water  from 
the  hill. 

(2)  The  London  express  to  be  stopped 
by  signal  on  due  notice  being  given. 

(3)  Full  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
Uncle  Robert's  portmanteau. 

(4)  Seven  new  lamps  to  be  placed  at 
the  end  of  the  platform  in  the  station 
and  duly  maintained. 

(5)  The   short  cut  from   our   house 
along  the  line  to  be  legalized. 

"  But  we  mustn't  be  too  selfish  about 
it,"  said  my  wife  at  this  point.  "  I 
wonder  if  we  should  put  in  an  eight- 
hour  day  for  the  porters  ?  "  We  did 
not  include  that,  however,  but  de- 
manded repairs  for  the  station  cottages. 

There  came  a  postcard  in  reply, 
announcing  the  arrival  of  our  esteemed 
favour.  And  after  that  there  was  a 
long  pause.  I  wrote  once  asking  if  a 
decision  had  been  arrived  at,  but  had  no 
reply.  After  five  weeks  we  began  to 
compromise.  I  wrote  and  said  that  I 
would  not  press  for  more  than  five 
station  lamps.  Ten  days  later  we 
threw  over  the  cottage  repairs  and  the 
short  cut.  There  was  still  no  reply, 
and  the  strain  was  telling  upon  us. 
Even  my  wife  became  more  conciliatory. 


"  Uncle  Robert's  portmanteau  will 
have  to  go,"  she  announced  one 
morning  at  breakfast. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  pointed  out, 
"  as  long  as  we  can  get  our  royalty 
it  means  that  the  Great  Scottish  is 
paying  for  our  water  supply.  Don't 
you  think — 

"  They  must  stop  the  London  ex- 
press," said  my  wife  severely. 

A  week  later,  without  saying  any- 
thing to  my  wife,  I  wrote  and  with- 
drew our  remaining  stipulations  except 
Number  One.  The  truth  is  that  I  had 
seen  in  the  distance  something  going 
on  at  the  station  that  I  didn't  like  the 
look  of. 

After  another  month  we  heard  from 
the  General  Manager  at  last.  He 
wrote  to  say  that  the  new  artesian  well 
was  working  satisfactorily,  and  under 
the  circumstances  he  need  trouble  me 
no  further  in  the  matter. 


"  J.  Shields,  st  Shields,  b  Killick    . .      . .  2" 
Daily  Chronicle. 

SHIELDS  (anxious  to  get  back  to  tlie 
pavilion},  loq.  "If  they  can't  get  me 
out  any  other  way  I  must  lend  them  a 
hand  myself." 


488 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JUNE  18,  1913. 


THE  CURE. 

WHEN  Richard  and  Henry  came 
back  from  Brittany  last  week  I  had,  of 
course,  heaps  of  things  to  tell  them. 
I  pictured  to  myself  their  happy  up- 
turned faces,  their  ready  smiles,  their 
genial  interest. 

But  I  had  forgotten  the  curse  of  the 
Returned  Traveller;  I  had  forgotten 
that  the  chief  cause  of  nostalgia  is  the 
passionate  desire  to  inflict  a  tale  _  of 
petty  happenings  on  long  -  suffering 
friends  at  home;  I  had  forgotten — I 
have  forgotten  what  I  had  forgotten. 

They  began  with  their  adventures — 
the  crossing,  that  was  pronounced  by 
the  sailors  to  be  the  worst  since  the 
winter  of  '79;  the  waiters,  who  had 
answered  halting  French  in  flowing 
English ;  the  price  of  English  tobacco, 
and,  on  the  contrary,  the  price  of 
French  wine;  together  with  a  tedious 
resume  of  trifling  dangers  and  difficulties 
of  transport. 

When  my  interest  visibly  nagged, 
they  produced  from  their  pockets  tram 
tickets  from  Dinard,  French  matches 
from  St.  Malo,  and  lumps  of  mortar 
from  the  walls  of  Dinan  keep. 

Next  day  they  began  to  unpack  the 
picture  postcards,  and  I  left  the  house 
in  a  hurry.  I  felt  somehow  that 
Richard  was  going  to  describe  them  as 
an  interesting  record  of  an  enjoyable 
trip. 

I  stayed  away  all  the  afternoon. 
Late  in  the  evening  I  returned  with  an 
air  of  secrecy  and  pockets  crowded  with 
mysteries. 

Richard  and  Henry  looked  up  from 
a  map  of  France. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  asked 
Henry  casually.  I  strode  to  the  lire- 
place,  turned  my  back  on  it  firmly  and 
began : 

"  I  have  been  abroad  (sensation)  to 
Shepherd's  Bush  (derision),  and  now 
that  you  have  quite  finished  the  relation 
of  your  interesting,  your  very  interesting 
adventures,  I  'm  sure  you  will  be  glad 
to  hear  of  mine." 

I  began  with  the  adventures— the 
curiously  shaped  train  that  had  stopped 
at  every  station ;  the  humorous  re- 
partee of  the  apple-barrow  .man  to  the 
chauffeur  outside  the  terminus— a  little 
story  which  as  I  told  it  lost  but  little 
through  my  having  forgotten  the 
repartee  itself;  my  difficulty  in  using 
one  ticket  on  two  trams,  although  the 
total  distance  covered  did  not  exceed 
half  a  statutory  kilometre. 

I  produced  the  ticket  and  passed  it 
round,  and  then  hurried  on  to  other 
trophies.  One  middling  large  lump  of 
brickwork  from  a  wall  adjacent  to  Worm- 
wood Scrubbs  Prison ;  one  receipted  bill 
from  an  Italian  restaurant  where  I  had 


consumed  a  custard  eclair  and  three 
feet  of  the  finest  spaghetti ;  one  small 
packet  of  Shepherd's  Bush  tobacco, 
which  I  had  brought  back  without 
paying  an  excessive  duty. 

I  then  passed  to  my  postcards. 
They  were,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  only 
perfunctorily  enthusiastic  over  two 
really  artistic  photochromes  of  the 
Cinema  de  Luxe  and  the  Electric  Palace. 
These  failed  to  grip  them,  even  when  I 
translated  the  title  of  the  former  for  their 
benefit,  and  waxed  exegetical  over  the 
finer  points  of  their  early  Georgian 
construction. 

But  I  had  yet  a  trump. 

"This,"  I  said,  "is  the  free  library. 
Its  architecture  speaks  for  itself.  But 
tiiis  card  has  an  interest  over  and 
above  the  building." 

"A  biplane?"  asked  Richard  sadly. 
"  If  so,  you  've  bought  the  wrohg  card. 
It's  not  in  this  one." 

"  I  spoke  figuratively,"  I  said. 
"  Actually,  the  interest  is  that  rather 
good-looking  young  man  standing  to 
the  left  of  the  gate.  No,  it  isn't  me, 
Henry.  I  said  'rather  good-looking.' 
Now" I  must  ask  you  to  cast  your 
minds  back  to  June,  1910.  No  doubt 
you  will  remember  seeing  a  poster  of 
Suburban  Opinion:  'Shepherd's  Bush 
Reader  Wins  £102  IBs.  M.  in  Muddles.' 
Well,  this  is  the  Shepherd's  Bush 
reader.  I  bought  the  card  from  the 
man  himself;  indeed,  I  had  quite  a 
long  talk  with  him.  He  set  up  in  the 
stationery  line,  and  throws  himself  in 
with  all  local  photographs  he  has 
taken." 

They  were  now  so  dispirited  that  I 
was  able  to  unveil  a  map  of  the  district 
and  spread  it  on  the  table  without 
evoking  a  protest.  But  when  I  took 
out  a  box  of  pins  with  red,  white  and 
blue  china  tops  the  worms  turned.  By 
the  space  of  several  minutes  they  said 
hard  and  unjust  things  to  me ;  and, 
though  there  is  peace  once  more,  we 
do  not  mention  Shepherd's  Busli  now- 
adays. 

Neither,  however,  do  we  make  refer- 
ence to  Brittany. 

"Cosy  SEWEHS  WANTED!" 

Mancliestcr  Evening  News. 
Some  people  never  seem  satisfied  with 
the  ordinary  comforts  of  home-life. 

The  Chivalry  of  the  Bar. 
It  is  rumoured  that  Sir  EDWABD 
CAIISON,  in  the  event  of  his  being 
charged  with  treasonable  conspiracy  in 
the  matter  of  Ulster,  will  invite  Mr. 
BIRRELL,  K.C.,  and  Mr.  JOHN  REDMOND, 
of  the  Irish  Bar,  to  conduct  his  defence, 
and  that  these  gentlemen  will,  by  the 
advice  of  the  Editor  of  The  Westminster 
Gazette,  accept  the  brief. 


CALCULATED  ARGUMENT. 

["The  youngest  child  of  a  family  is  hard  to 
convince.  His  is  the  accumulated  experience 
of  his  elders." — Recent  Novel.} 

SHE  seemed  .  .  .  well,  let   mo  put  it 
thus 

(My  Muse  has  ever  tact  in  plenty) : 
I  feared  her  years  were  thirty  plus, 

W7hilo  mine  were  barely  fivo-and- 

twenty. 
And  so,  although  my  callow  heart 

Wont  out  to  her  in  fond  devotion, 
I  wondered  if  'twere  wise  to  start 

The  moving  of  the  usual  motion. 

A  horror  filled  my  heart  with  gloom — 
Lest  she  should  reach  the  sere  and 
yellosv 

While  I  was  still  in  fairish  bloom, 
A  reasonably  youthful  fellow. 
Be  still,"  I  said,  "0  tongue,  refrain, 
What  time  my  subtle  mind  engages 

In  schemings  that  will  ascertain 
Approximately  what  her  age  is." 

Thenceforward  when  she  spoke  to  me 

I  only  dealt  in  contradiction ; 
In  disputatious  causerie 

I  struggled  to  convey  conviction. 
We  argued  bacon  versus  ham, 

Pink  against  purple  (this  for  blouses), 
The  motor-'bus  against  the  tram, 

Commodious  flats  and  country  houses. 

Were  she  a  Pethick,  I  would  Pank 

(Really  my  views  were  of  the  oddest); 
I  found  a  gentle  charm  in  swank 

Merely  from  knowing  she  was 

modest ; 
But,  spite  of  all  that  I  .could  do, 

My  rhetoric  with  reason  glowing, 
I  could  not  make  her  take  my  view 

On  any  single  subject  going. 

Then  o'er  my  heart  there  swept  a  wild, 

Wild  wave  of  joy  that  strangely 

moved  it ; 
She  plainly  was  a  youngest  child, 

My  failure  to  convince  her  proved  it. 
I  knew  her  brother  (twenty-nine) ; 

My  hesitating  love  grew  firmer  ; 
In  pleading  tones  I  breathed,  "Be 
mine." 

There  came  no  contradictory  murmur. 


One  of  the  Old  Breed. 

' '  Since  old  Walter  Blake  died  big  bullocks 
are  rare  down  here." — The  Tuam  Herald. 


"  If  a  few  hours  before  the  pigeon  dies  a  tiny 
dose  of  vitamine  bo  given  to  it  then  the  pigeon 
quickly  recovers." — Thf  Heferee." 

The   trouble,    of    course,   is   to  know 
just  when  the  pigeon  is  going  to  die. 

Fast  and  Furious. 

"The  parishioners  of  A ysgarth  have  adopted 
a  scheme  for  the  restoration  of  the  Parish 
Church  bells,  at  a  cost  of  £'200.  The  sum  of 
£80  has,  so  far,  been  subscribed  towards  the 
fun." — Tlie  Northern  Kclio. 


JUNE  18,  1913.] 


PUNCH,    OR   TFIK   LONDON    CHAllIVAUI. 


4H9 


|  (  I 

".  /&/   /,'  \   aKsufw       -i-"1^  "  lil  i  i  .-  i-  "'"  -"      ""    '^/ 

'          M          "  •  '  ''  TTT'™    '  ••••liJ  '—•••"*•   ' 


">&•*    ~^.i^~- 


. 

& 


ATMOSPHERE   OF   DISTRUST   AT  A  GARDES  PAIUT  OWING   TO   BUMOUB   THAT   A   MILITANT  IS  PRESENT. 


THE  RECANTER. 


BRING  me  my  gloves  of  dove-like  line, 
And,  though  my  little  fingers  crack, 

They  shall  remorselessly  indue 

The  su&de ;  bring  out  my  brilliant  black 

Top-hat.     My  tie  is  featly  tied  ; 

My  piqu6  waistcoat  \voos  the  breeze ; 
My  trousers,  striped  and  darkly  dyed, 

Are  creased  and  bag-less  at  the  knees. 

Collar  and  pin  are  right,  and  now 

Waft  me,  ye  nymphs,  where,'  unafraid, 

Charles,  my  familiar,  shall  endow 
With  all  his  goods  a  tender  maid. 

My  Charles,  my  Charles,  and  has  it  como 
To  this  that,  resolute  but  pale, 

You  stand,  your  cynic  spirit  dumb, 
In  ambush  near  the  altar-rail  ? 

Oh,  misoparthenist  morose, 
So  deeply  vowed  to  single  bliss 

You  seemed  to  hold,  nay  hug,  it  close, 
To  think  it  should  have  come  to  this ! 

But  Charles  is  in  the  church  at  play ; 

He  skips  about  and  chats  as  though. 
He  had  a  wedding  every  day 

And  never  found  the  process  slow. 


And  as  his  inexpressive  she 

Comes  sudden  sailing  up  the  aisle, 

Observe  our  Charles ;  he  does  not  flee, 
But  dons  his  most  possessive  smile, 

As  who  should  say,  "  I  am  the  one 
Who  bound  this  maiden  for  my  own, 

A  deed  of  high  emprise,  and  done 

Through  wit  and  manly  worth  alone." 

The  ring  is  on,  a  tidy  fit ; 

He  hears  unmoved  the  organ's  peal, 
While  many  stand  when  they  should  sit, 

And  many  sit  when  they  should  kneel. 

The  signatory  vestry-throng, 

The  bride  in  all  her  white  array, 
The  house,  the  aunts  that  most  belong 

Thereto— so  speed  the  hours  away ; 

And  Charles,  who  thought  of  frocks  as  foes, 

And  vaunted  mere  celibacy, 
Must  get  him  gone ;  but  ere  he  goes 

What  is  it  he  confides  to  me  ? 

He  lifts  his  glass  of  wedding  fizz 

And  says  he  is  convinced,  "  bar  chaff, 

That  he  who  isn't  married  is 
But  half  a  man,  and  hardly  half !  "      E.  C.  L. 


490 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  18,  1913. 


ALB. 
An  Obitnanj. 

ONLY  an  axolotl !  Don't  the  mere 
words  bring  tears  into  your  eyes? 

Only  an  axolotl,  I  repeat,  and  if  you 
ask  me  what  an  axolotl  is  I  lay  my 
hand  on  my  heart  and  reply  that  I 
don't  quite  know.  It  is  like  a  gold-fish, 
but  its  colour  is  not  gold,  and  scientists 
say  it  is  not  a  fish— an  obvious  error, 
because  it  lives  in  water  and  dies  in  the 
air.  If  you  ate  it  (but  please  don't)  I 
think  it  would  taste  like  a  sardine. 

Only  an  axolotl,  I  say  again  (we 
are  getting  on),  but  his  name  was  Alb 
and  he  was  the  pearl  and  prince  of 
axolotls.  Lot  me  picture  him  as  last  I 
saw  him.  He  was,  to  the  unapprecia- 
tive  eye,  of  plain  if  not  ugly  appearance. 
The  large  flat  nose  (or  rather  head), 
the  two  enormous  ears  (fins?),  the 
somewhat  rotund,  mud-coloured  body, 
did  not  perhaps  make  for  conventional 
loveliness.  Yet  his  features,  though 
hardly  regular  enough  for  perfect  beauty, 
had  about  them  an  expressiveness,  & 
charm,  an — I  know  not  what.  They 
grew  on  one. 

Alb  had  simple  tastes.  An  occasional 
worm,  perhaps  a  crumb,  sufficed  him 
for  breakfast;  an  occasional  crumb, 
perhaps  a  worm,  formed  his  modest 
lunch.  Tea  he  disdained,  and  supper 
he  did  not  get.  His  bowl  was  furnished 
neatly  but  not  luxuriously  with  sea- 
weed, moss,  stones  and  all  the  appur- 
tenances of  gold-fishery.  He  spent  his 
working  day  swimming  round  and  round 
the  bowl,  sternly  and  methodically,  from 
ten  to  four.  I  believe  he  never  quite 
realised  that  the  bowl  was  round,  but 
always  thought  that  if  he  kept  on  long 
enough  he  would  arrive  somewhere. 
If  this  is  so,  he  was  the  most  determined 
character  I  know,  and  I  think  he  should 
be  a  lesson  to  us  all. 

But  you  will  expect  some  anecdotes 
of  his  sagacity.  Living  entirely  in  this 
bowl  he  could  not  fetch  his  master's 
paper  or  hold  a  savage  burglar  at  bay, 
or  carry  a  collecting  box  for  an  inebriate 
dogs'  home.  Yet  he  had  intelligence 
of  the  domestic  kind.  He  had  a  perfect 
passion  for  being  read  to.  How  often 
have  I  seen  Alb,  his  head  protruding, 
his  fins  cocked  back,  listening  with  a 
rapt  expression  while  his  master  read 
some  suitable  extracts  from  Tlic 
Spectator.  Once  I  could  almost  have 
sworn  he  laughed. 

If  you  asked  him  what  he  would  like 
to  do  to  LLOYD  GEORGE  he  rushed  wildly 
about  the  bowl.  But  as  he  did  just  the 
same  to  every  question  (you  prodded 
him  with  a  stick  to  make  him  answer) 
this  throws  little  light  on  his  politics. 
He  would  have  been  a  wobbly  voter, 
would  Alb. 


Then  there  was  Axi!  Picture  to 
yourselves  a  large,  beautiful  blonde 
axolotl,  perfectly  built,  svelte,  graceful, 
with  the  utmost  of  feminine  charm. 
Having  done  that,  you  will  have  Axi, 
Alb's  wife.  She  was  worthy  of  him  ; 
they  wore  worthy  of  each  other.  Throw 
a  crumb  to  Alb  and  if  Axi  got  there 
first  she  ate  it.  Throw  one  to  Axi  and 
it  was  the  same — I  mean  it  was  vice 
versa,  mutatis  mutandis.  One  evening 
a  strange  axolotl  was  introduced  to  the 
bowl,  dark,  beetle-browed,  with  a 
sinister  look.  Next  morning  he  was 
found  dead.  There  are  dark  pages  in 
the  life  of  every  axolotl. 

But  Alb  is  no  more.  I  write  these 
few  lines  at  the  request  of  his  owner, 
an  unworthy,  a  feeble  appreciation 
from  one  who  knew  him.  When  he 
died  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the 
bowl.  Nay,  it  overflowed.  Nor  was 
that  his  only  tribute.  A  very  beautiful 
Latin  inscription  was  written  for  him. 
"Poor  Alb,"  I  said,  as  I  perused  it, 
"poor,  poor  Albl "  It  was  a  good  bit 
of  writing,  but  it  did  not  do  justice  to 
Alb.  Nothing  could.  Nothing  will- 
nothing — but  pardon  me,  I  grow 
maudlin.  I  will  desist.  There  was  a 
peroration ;  but  no  matter.  Alb  needs 
no  peroration. 

"  CRICKET  GAMES  IN  OLD  COUNTRY. 
Playing  Alexford,  the  University  of  Kent 
scored  480,  all  out,  Wooley  making  the 
magnificent  score  of  224  not  out,  while  Felder 
notched  52."— Daily  Colonist  (Victoria  B.C.). 

Thus  the  glad  news  journeys  through 
the  Empire. 

"At  the  Borough  Police  Court  on  Monday, 
the  Mayor,  who  presided,  called  attention  to 
the  telephone  at  the  police  station.  He  said 
that  on  Saturday  night  there  was  a  great 
disturbance  close  to  his  house,  and  at  eleven 
o'clock  he  rang  up  the  police  station,  but 
failed  to  get  any  response.  He  would  like  to 
know  where  the  teenehpsaowl  d  rworlow  alok 
aylak  dyogkkgb  telephone  was?  " 

Carnarvon  Herald. 

What  language !    Oh,  Mr.  Mayor. 

"The  weather  had  turned  very  cold,  and 
the  fieldsmen  wore  their  sweaters,  as  a  strong 
wind  was  blowing  Charles  Alderton  Carter,  of 
1,  Park  View,  right  across  the  ground." 

Bristol  Evening  News. 

Brightening  cricket  still  more. 


"  He  was,  I  think,  Keeper  of  H.M.S.  Regalia 
in  the  Tower  of  London  for  close  on  forty 
years." — Letter  in  "  Daily  Graphic. 

This  must  be  a  sister  ship  to  the  one  at 
the  bottom  of  Bouverie  Street. 


"  FORECAST  TILL  11  A.M.  TO-MORROW. 
North  Wind,   mainly  between  West    and 
South." — Manclustcr  Evening  News. 

What   has   the   East    done    to    be   so 
neglected  ? 


THE  MEM-SAHIB. 
ANY  morning  you  may  meet  her 

Where  the  sunlight  gilds  the  strand 
And  the  curlews  rise  to  greet  her 

As  she  gallops  o'er  the  sand, 
Riding  swift,  as  though  a  wager's 

In  the  fore-front  of  her  mind, 
With  a  brace  of  breathless  majors 
Close  behind. 

Watch  her  dole  the  daily  rations, 
Watch  her  scan  the  butler's  book, 

Watch  her  foil  the  machinations 
Of  a  swart  and  bearded  cook ; 

Prouder  than  a  queen,  sublimer 
Than  a  goddess,  see  her  stand 

With  a  Hindustani  Primer 
In  her  hand ! 

When  the  swift  and  welcome  gloaming 
Shrouds  the  palm-trees  and  the  huts, 

And  the  bullocks,  slowly  homing, 
Loom  like  ghosts  across  the  ruts ; 

When  the  plantain  (or  banana) 
Rocks  to  rest  the  drowsy  midge, 

She'll  be  up  at  the  gymkhana 
Playing  bridge. 

And  it  seems  a  little  funny 
That  not  one  among  us  all 

Ever  danced  the  "  Hugging  Bunny  " 
Or  the  glad  "  Crustacean  Crawl  " 

Till  she  came  out  East  and  taught  us 
Every  trick  of  pose  and  gait, 

Occidentalized  and  brought  us 
Up  to  date. 

And  our  bungalows  were  gloomy, 
There  were  bats  behind  the  doors, 

And  the  rooms  were  far  too  roomy 
With  their  bare  and  shameless  floors, 

Till  she  burst  upon  our  quiet 
With  her  china  and  her  prints, 

With  the  reminiscent  riot 
Of  her  chintz. 

Would  you  learn  the  gladness  of  her, 
Catch  the  charm  before  it  pass  ? 

Ask  the  butterflies  that  hover 

Emerald  o'er  the  sun-burned  grass ; 

Ask  the  paddy-birds  that  settle 
On  the  criinson-flow'ring  boughs, 

Or  the  frangipanni  petal 
In  her  blouse. 

And  I  would  not  have  you  grudge  her 
Any  pleasure  she  may  wrest 

From  the  wilderness,  or  judge  her 
By  the  standards  of  the  West ; 

She 's  a  "  bold,  designing  creature  " 
To  the  folk  who  know  her  least, 

But  to  us — the  saving  feature 

Of  the  East.  J.  M.  S. 


Wait  till  the  Reign  stops. 

"  As  reported  elsewhere,  the  Urban  Council 
on  Tuesday  evening  sent  a  congratulatory 
telegram  to  his  Majesty  King  Geergc  IV.,  on 
the  occasion  of  his  birthday." 

Farnliam  Herald. 


JUNE  18, 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


491 


FORGOTTEN  DEEDS  OF  VALOUR. 

A   DEPUTATION    OP   RESPECTABLE    RESIDENTS    OF    CAPRE.E    WAIT    ON    THE    EMPEROR   TlBERIOS    TO    POINT    OUT    THAT    HIS    MIDNIGHT 
ORGIES  GIVE  THE  ISLAND  A   BAD  NAME   AND  DEPRECIATE  THE   VALUE  OP  PROPERTY   THERE. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
WHEN  the  Master  of  a  College  at  Cambridge  sits  down 
to  write  the  story  of  one  who  held  posts  of  great  authority 
in  the  University,  intending  readers  may  think  themselves 
justified  in  anticipating  a  work  of  academically  dignified 
dulness.  In  the  case  of  "  /.,"  a  Memoir  of  John  Willis 
Clark  (SMITH,  ELDER),  by  A.  E.  SHIPLEY,  Master  of  Christ's 
College,  they  will,  however,  be  agreeably  disappointed. 
Mr.  SHIPLEY  has  carried  out  his  task  in  exactly  the  right 
spirit  of  affectionate  and  admiring  levity.  Being  himself 
the  Head  of  a  House  lie  does  not  disguise  the  painful  fact 
that  "  J."  was  consistently  in  favour  of  the  abolition  of 
Heads  of  Houses,  "  though,"  he  himself  adds,  "  I  never 
could  see  that  the  poor  dears  do  much  harm."  This  book 
is  by  no  means  a  merely  formal  biography.  It  gives  a 
vivid  and  unconventional  account  of  a  very  remarkable 
man  who  was  for  many  years  the  life  and  soul  of  Cam- 
bridge, the  adviser,  the  helper  and  the  indefatigable  friend 
of  many  generations  of  dons  and  undergraduates.  As  our 
public  schools  are  supposed  to  produce  character,  so  it  may 
In-  said  that  our  universities  have  earned  much  fame  by 
producing  characters.  "J."  was  one  of  these.  Everything 
lie  undertook  (and  his  activities  were  innumerable)  he 
did  \vell  in  bis  own  uncompromising  way.  He  wrote  books 
on  books,  on  architecture,  on  archaeology ;  bo  arranged  the 
Museum  of  Zoology ;  be  was  Registrar  of  the  University ; 
ho  investigated  libraries  ;  he  was  for  years  the  tutelary 
genius  of  the  A.D.C. ;  he  was  a  teller  of  good  stories 
aii'.l  a  careful  drinker  of  good  claret;  and  he  had  bursts 


of  a  Boythornian  temper  which,  though  terrific  while 
they  lasted,  endeared  him  the  more,  if  that  was  possible, 
to  his  friends.  As  I  who  write  these  lines  remember  him, 
he  was  the  embodiment  of  hospitality,  good  fellowship  and 
kindness.  I  thank  the  Master  of  Christ's  for  this  pleasant 
record  of  our  common  friend,  and  I  recommend  it  warmly 
to  all  Cambridge  men. 

When  Mr.  ALGERNON  BLACKWOOD,  some  years  ago,  first 
told  me  about  the  ghosts  that  he  had  seen  I  was  quite  sure 
that  he  was  telling  me  the  truth — I  was  horribly  impressed. 
Then  he  began  to  tell  me  about  fairies,  and  I  enjoyed  his 
revelations  but  doubted  his  sincerity.  Finally,  in  his  new 
book,  A  Prisoner  in  Fairyland,  I  discover  no  sincerity  and 
only  a  little  enjoyment.  I  hope  that  he  will  not  write 
about  fairies  again.  His  prisoner  on  this  occasion  is  a 
hearty  middle-aged  sentimentalist — ponderously  affectionate 
by  day,  ponderously  imaginative  at  night.  This  gentleman 
flies  after  dark  with  the  simple  stolidity  of  a  Slightly ;  he 
is  accompanied  by  children  whose  sweetness  and  attempted 
fun  are  painful  to  witness.  "For  the  children,"  we  are 
told,  "  night  meant  play  and  mischief;  for  himself  it  meant 
graver  reverie."  This  "  graver  reverie  "  occupies  over  five 
hundred  pages,  and  I  should  be  afraid  to  calculate  the 
numbers  and  numbers  of  descriptions  of  stars  and  moons 
and  night-skies  that  those  pages  contain.  The  truth  is 
that  Mr.  BLACKWOOD  has  nothing  very  new  to  tell  us 
about  fairies ;  his  narrative  is  slow  in  its  movement,  and 
its  characters — as,  for  instance,  Minks,  the  secretary — are 
spoilt  by  a  sentimentality  worthy  of  DICKENS.  He  has  been 
too  long  "a  prisoner  in  fairyland,"  and  I  believe  that  he 


492 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JUNE  18,  1913. 


•which  it  now  opens. 


is  at  heart  more  at  home  in  the  company  of  John  Sikncelia  laid  in  Shanghai— has  developed  cholera  and  that  the 
and  his  cats  than  in  the  innocent  verbosities  of  the  solid  four  must  remain  where  they  are  for  eight  days.  It  is  an 
Mr.  Roger*  I  feel  that  he  lias  here  endeavoured  to  hammer  |  ingenious  situation,  reminiscent,  however,  of  •  a  popular 
out  1  8  theme  when  spontaneous  invention  was  lacking,  j  American  farce  called  Seven  Days,  hut  the  flaw  in  it  is  that 
Fairies  are  elusive  creatures,  and  in  Jimbo  Mr.  BLAOKWOOD  ;  it  can  only  lead  either  to  a  lot  of  murder  or  to  incessant 
approached  them  very  closely;  but  it  seems  that  Mr.  \  talk.  Our  author  has  no  germ  of  melodrama  in  him,  and 
Roaers's  heavy  tread  has,  on  the  present  occasion,  alarmed :  it  is  speedily  evident  that  there  will  be  no  murder.  It  is 
them  I  sympathise  with  Mr  BLACKWOOD,  hut  cannot  just  as  speedily  evident  that  there  will  be  much  talk.  For 
commend  his  Artificial  substitute.  a  time,  I  confess,  the  discussions  absorbed  me,  and  then, 

i  beaten   down  by   the  volume   of   them,   irritated   by  the 

When  the  story  opens  upon  the  picture  of  a  personable  j  vacillations  of  the  heroine,  and  maddened  by  the  mild 
Noting  man,  in  the  garden  of  an  old  chateau,  walking  with  j  "  After-you-my-dear-Alphonse  "  attitude  of  the  sickeningly 
an  elderly  but  charming  lady,  and  transfixed  by  the  sudden  reasonable  husband,  I  thanked  whatever  gods  may  be  that 
appearance  of  a  beautiful  damsel  ("  No  nymph,  Monsieur. ,  the  book  contained  only  296  pages,  for  otherwise  my 
It  is  my  daughter,  the  little  Helo'ise,  whom  you  used  to  unconquerable  soul  could  never  have  survived  to  the  end. 
know "),  and  when  moreover  it  is  called  by  the  engaging ,  Middleground  ought  really  to  have  been  condensed  and 
title  of  '4  Summer  Quadrille  (HUTCHINSON),  I  protest  that  transformed  into  the  last  section  of  a  long,  quiet  novel 
the  reader  has  every  reason  to  expect  nothing  but  the !  showing  us  the  early  developments  of  the  situation  with 
happiest  and  most  dainty 
comedy.  That  indeed  is 
my  only  ground  of  com- 
plaint against  Mrs.  HUGH 
FKASEB  and  Mr.  HUGH 
FKASEE,  that,  having 
started  a  tale  of  pleasant 
artificiality  about  a  gay 
cavalier,  a  charming 
maiden,  a  kindly  abbe,  a  ! 
scheming  servant,  and  in  • 
short  all  the  usual  cast 
for  a  costume  romance,  I 
they  should  suddenly  | 
have  turned  to  what  is 
almost  tragedy.  I  felt 
also  that  the  pleasantly  j 
prattling  style,  so  well  j 
suited  to  what  the  story  ! 
seemed  about  to  be,  was 
hardly  robust  enough 
when  it  came  to  omens 
and  shrieking  sea-gulls 
and  a  villain  with  his 
face  smashed.  All  these 
things  you  get  before  the 


FOR  t-s  T'  GO  is,  LIDT?"  Lady.  "  CERTAINLY  NOT!" 

Boy.    "THEN  TIKE   US  IN  IN  YER  ARMS  ?  " 


I  never  found  Marion 
Miller  either  very  in- 
teresting or  very  prob- 
able, and  so,  when  she 
took  advantage  of  her 
fiance's  approaching  de- 
parture for  the  Gold 
Coast  to  exact  a  promise 
from  him  that  he  would 
make  no  use  of  drags 
during  his  time  there,  and 
i  thus  "establish  her  faith" 
!  in  Christian  Science,  I 
felt  that  I  should  be  glad 
to  get  away  with  James 
to  Africa,  and  allow 
Mr.  W.  H.  ADAMS,  him- 
self an  old  official  of  the 
Gold  Coast  Colony,  to 
show  me  this  young 
member  of  TJte  Dominant 
Race  (SMITH,  ELDER)  in 
what  I  hoped  would  be 
less  incredible  if  more 


finish.  The  villain  in  question  was  M.  Le  Orange — the  j  adventurous  surroundings.  I  want  at  once  to  say  that  1 
personable  young  man  to  whom  I  had  so  taken  in  the  opening  enjoyed  the  trip  tremendously,  even  though  my  credulity 
chapter — and  his  behaviour  towards  the  little  IlAloise  was  by  did  get  worried  again  once  or  twice  by  the  combined 
no  means  what  I  had  hoped  from  his  appearance.  But  in  '  stupidity  and  good  fortune  of  James.  And  then  there  was 
the  end,  as  you  will  see,  he  got  his  deservings;  and  perhaps,  \Ambah,  of  Moorish  blood  and  brought  up  from  childhood 
as  I  had  never  believed  in  any  of  the  characters  save  as  j  among  the  natives  of  Anum,  of  which  town  and  district 
pleasantly-dressed  figures  in  a  tushery  show,  it  need  not!  James — his  life  saved,  after  all,  by  quinine — became  Corn- 
have  worried  me.  Still,  I  admit  I  prefer  that  in  an  affair  of  missioner;  she  was  white-skinned  and  beautiful  and 


this  fashion  as  little  sawdust  should  be  spilt  as  possible. 

When  four  people  find  themselves  shut  up  for  eight  days 
in  a  quarantined  house,  it  is  perhaps  unreasonable  to  expect 
them  to  do  anything  very  much  except  talk,  and  I  ought, 
no  doubt,  to  have  borne  more  patiently  with  the  deluge  of 
conversation  poured  forth  in  these  circumstances  by  the 
characters  in  Middleground  (MILLS  AND  BOON),  the  new 
novel  by  the  anonymous  author  of  Mastering  Flame.  His 
theme  certainly  lent  itself  to  much  conversation.  The 
position  was  as  follows :  Louis  Pembroke  was  on  the 
point  of  eloping  with  Mrs.  Comber.  .  Enter  Mrs.  Comber  to 
chat  over  their  plans.  Enter  John  Brent,  former  lover  of 
the  lady,  to  announce  that  he  knew  all ;  and  on  his  heels 
enter  Mr.  Comber,  who  also  knew  all,  and  wanted  to  know 
what  was  going  to  be  done  about  it.  At  this  point  the 
discovery  is  made  that  the  servant  of  the  house — the  scene 


capable  of  Platonic  affection,  and,  after  a  few  lessons  in 
English  verbs,  I  doubt  whether  English  civilization  would 
have  had  anything  more  to  teach  her.  Still,  I  have  never 
been  on  the  Gold  Coast,  and  Mr.  ADAMS  probably  knows 
better  than  I  whether  Ambali  can  be  found  there.  I  will 
leave  it  to  him.  Meanwhile  you  must  read  his  really 
thrilling  description  of  West  African  life  and  scenery  to 
discover  how  loath  I  was,  at  the  end  of  six  months  or 
so,  to  come  back  home  with  the  now  distinguished  James 
and  see  him  wedded  to  an  allopathic  (and  not  too  lovable) 
bride. 


"Mr.  James  Douglas,  the  well-known  journalist,  state*  that  ho  is 
not  the  author  of  '  The  Duchess's  Necklace,'  the  play  at  the  Aldvryck 
Theatre." — The  Daily  News  and  Leader. 

We  understand  that  Mr.  JAMES  A.  DOUGLAS  will  retort 
that  neither  is.  he  guilty  of  The  Renascence  of  Wonder. 


JINK  25,  1'JJJJ.j 


PUNCH,  OR  THK  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


493 


CHARIVARIA. 


into  tlio  llieatrical   world    is   to  bo  a  j  Conference  held  last  week  to  tho  serious 
success  lie  will  have  to  keep  hi*  eyes  !  amount  of  malingering  by  women  under 


SOMI:  call  it  tho  Whitewash  Report.  I  vrider  open.     How  comes  it   that    lie   the  Act.     Indec-d  it  may  lead  to  the 
Perhaps  a  hetter  name   would  be  the   allowed    The,     (.1  tided    J't/l    and 
Won'twash  Report?  Perfect  Cure  to  be  produced  by  otl 


The 

hers'.' 


Bv  a  curious  coincidence  the  follow- 


Sir     JOHNSTON     FofcBES  -  ROBEBTSOH 


in"  "appeared  in  a  contsrnporary  last    has   been   persuaded   to   give   another 
w"c]< ; .  farewell   performance  in   London.      It 


"TO-DAY'S   FASHION   NOTK. 
Tin1  white  washing  skirt  is  in  great  demand 
this  summer.   ..." 

*    * 

Rumour  has  it  that  Mr.  FALCONER 
is  now  taking  steps  with  u,  view  to  an  ' 


was  felt  that  to  break  with  precedent 
by  giving  only  one  final  performance 
would  scarcely  be  in  the  best  interests 
of  the  profession.  .„  ... 

The  "  Old  Six  Bells"  inn,  Willesden, 


illuminated  address  being  presented  to  j  has  been  condemned  by  the  local 
Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE,  Sir  RUFUS  ISAACS  I  authorities  as  unfit  for  habitation, 
and  Lord  MURRAY,  testifying  to  the  The  house  was  a  famous  haunt  of  JACK 
Nation's  appreciation  of  their  invest-  SIIEPPAKD  and  JONATHAN  WILD,  and 
merits  in  Marconis.  there  is  some  talk  of  holding  a  mooting 

Dr.    AKKD,    the    Baptist 


preacher  who  went  from 
Liverpool  to  New  York,  has 
now  explained  why  he  has 
renounced  British  nation- 
ality. The  polo  match,  it 
Items,  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  He  says  he  has 
become  an  American 
nitizcn  through  disgust  at 
Eoyal  rulers,  lor  the  idea  of , 
being  anybody's  subject  was 
intolerable  to  him.  For  our-  j 
selves  wo  would  rather  be  a 
subject  than  an  object. 
Meanwhile  KING  GEORGE 
is,  according  to  the  latest 
bulletin,  doing  as  well  as 
could  be  expected. 

"  Seas  don't  divide — they 
unite,"  was  one  of  the 
KAISER'S  epigrams  of  which 
he  was  reminded  during  his 
Jubilee  celebrations.  But  what  about 
the  Bed  Sea  ?  .,  * 

An  awkward  atTair  is  reported  from 


coining  of  a  new  word— "  femalingar- 


mg. 


*  * 


MODERN  JOURNALISM. 
Editor  of  evening  paper.  ' '  YES  ?   YES  ?  ' ' 
Chief  Sub.  (very  excited).  "I'VE  COT  AN  IMPORTANT  STATEMENT  HERE 

FROM  IvANOVITCH,  THE  RUSSIAN  NOVELIST,  ABOUT  WHAT  HE  FEEDS  ON 
IN  THK  HOT  WEATHER.  FORTUNATELY  THE  TEMPERATURE  TO-DAY  IS 
EXACTLY  ONE  DECREE  HOTTKB  THAN  THE  COBHESPONDIXG  DAY  IN  1813." 


of  readers  of  penny  dreadfuls  and 
patrons  of  picture  palaces  with  tho  view 
of  raising  a  fund  to  preserve  the  build- 
ing for  tho  nation  as  a  memorial  to 


Hamburg.  After  General  VON  MACKEN-  their  heroes. 
SEN  had  given  to  a  new  cruiser  the 
name  Derfllngcr,  he  uttered  the  follow-  Another  literary  coincidence  which 
ing  words  in  an  impressive  voice:  "  I '  seems  to  have  escaped  general  notice 
commit  thee,  proud  fabric  of  men's  attracted  our  attention  at  a  bookstall 
hards,  to  thy  element."  The  fabric,  last  week.  Side  by  side  were  the 
however,  proved  even  prouder  than  was  :  placards  of  The  Daily  Nctrs  and  The. 
expected.  It  refused  to  be  dictated  to,  Daily  Mail.  They  ran  as  follows : — 
and  remained  on  the  stocks. 


"  It  is  more  important,"  says  Mr. 
WILL  CHOOKS,  "  to  court  the  missus 
when  you  've  married  her  than  before." 
Unfortunately  in  certain  circles  a  good 
deal  of  the  post-nuptial  courting  that 
is  done  appears  to  be  police-courting. 

*     * 

Two  children  were  bitten  by  monkeys 
at  the  Zoo  last  week.  It  is  thought 
that  the  monkeys,  who  often  bite  one 
another,  did  not  realise  that  those  little 
ones  were  not  of  their  own  species. 
* .  * 

At  Magberafelt  (Londonderry)  Petty 
.  Sessions  last  week,  FELIX 
1  MULHOLLAND was   fined 
twenty  shillings  for  cursing 
!  the   POVE,  the  poljce,   the 
Army,  the  Navy,  the  buckles 
on  Constable  KELLY'S 
"  frock,"  and   the   Ancient 
Order    of    Hibernians.      It 
sounds  something  of   a 
bargain.       ...  ... 

The  director  of  The 
Gourmet  has  told  an  inter- 
viewer that  English  people 
do  not  think  nearly  enough 
about  eating.  In  City  Cor- 
poration circles  this  is  con- 
sidered a  base  slander. 

"  Certainly  by  far  the  best 
novel  I  have  written,"  says 
a  certain  author  of  a  book 
of  his  which  has  just  been 
published.  If  this  idea  of 
circulating  the  writer's 
opinion  of  bis  work  should  become  a 
custom,  it  will,  we  fancy,  be  found  that 
the  book  which  is  being  offered  to 
the  public  is  almost  invariably  his 
masterpiece. 

More  Calumny  in  the  Press. 

"  The  quarterly  meeting  of  the  above  asso- 
ciation was  held  at  tho  Constitutional  Club  on 
Tuesday  evening,  when  an  enervating  address 
was  given  to  the  members  by  Mr.  David  Stuart 


With  reference  to  the  alleged  diffi- 
culty in  obtaining  mounts  for  the 
forthcoming  Eoyal  Review  of  our 
citizen  soldiers,  it  is  said  that  Lord 
II. \i.n.\NK,  from  feelings  of  affection 
for  the  force  which  he  created,  offered 
at  his  own  expense  to  provide  the 
Territorial  cavalry  with  hobby  horses. 


DAILY  NEWS 


WHAT 

THE  TRAMS 
HAVE    DONE 

FOR 
LONDON 


DAILY  MAIL 


THEY 

SHOULDN'T 

HAVE 

DONE 

IT 


Women,  it  is  frequently  stated,  can 
beat  men  in  most  fields  of  activity  if 
they  are  only  given  a  fair  chance. 


If  Sir  JOSEPH  BEECHAM'S  incursion   Attention  was  drawn  at  an  Insurance 


(Tariff  Reform  League)." 


Mercury  and  Courier. 


"NOVEL  EXPERIMENT  IN  A 
DORSET   VILLAGE. 
CLEAN  LIVING." 

The  Daily  Erpress. 

Is  Dorset  as  bad  as  that  ? 


"  Widow  Lady  Wants  Situation  as  house- 
keeper to  gentleman  or  bachelor." 

Adrt.  in  Daily  Paper. 

Lot  us  hope  that,  if  he's  a  bachelor, 
she  will  make  him  a  real  gentleman  by 
marrving  him. 


VOL.   rxi.iv. 


491 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  25,  1913. 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 
DANCES  AND  DOGS. 

Park  Lane. 
DEAREST  DAPHNE, — Hostesses  have 
been  up  against  a  quite  quite  novel 
difficulty  this  season — the  scarcity  oi 
girls  at  parties !  Isn't  that  a  deliciously 
funny  idea?  It  comes  about  through 
some"  of  the  oldest  inhabitants  not 
allowing  their  girls  to  do  the  Chim- 
panzee Cuddle  and  the  Mexican  Mix-up. 
The  Duchess  of  Dunstable  is  one  of 
these,  and  poor  Francesca  and  Frederica 
have  had  a  perfectly  rotten  time  in 
consequence.  They  were  both  asked 
last  week  to  a  kick-up  at  Beryl  Clarges', 
where  things  are  generally  made  to 
hum.  The  old  duchess  refused,  and 
arranged  to  take  them  to  a  ghastly 
scientific  soiree — you  know  the  sort  of 
fearful  function — tea  and  coffee  and 
lemonade,  and  information  while  you 
wait !  Franky  gave  in  meekly,  as  she 
always  does,  but  Freckles  nursed  rebel- 
lious thoughts  and  planned  deep  plans. 

Among  o'.d  Dunstable's  other  moss- 
grown  habits  and  customs,  she  keeps 
up  the  childish  punishment  of  sending 
the  girls  to  bed  early  if  they  ever  cheek 
her  or  answer  her  back.  At  dinner  on 
the  night  in  question,  Freckles  was 
particularly  argumentative,  and  the 
more  her  mother  repressed  her  the 
more  she  wouldn't  be  repressed.  At 
last  she  flatly  contradicted  her  stately 
parent.  The  latter  got  out  the  frown 
she  keeps  specially  for  Freckles  and 
put  it  on.  "You  know  what  your 
punishment  is,"  she  said  after  an 
awful  silence.  "You  will  go  straight 
to  your  room  on  leaving  the  table." 
In  due  time  she  dragged  off  Franky  to 
science  and  sighs,  and,  as  soon  as  they 
were  off  the  premises,  Freckles,  instead 
of  going  to  her  penitential  couch,  put 
on  her  prettiest  dance  frock  and  went 
in  a  taxi  to  Beryl's,  where  she  enjoyed 
herself  hugely. 

Unluckily,  old  Lady  Humguffin,  who 's 
everybody's  third  cousin  or  first  aunt 
once  removed,  met  the  Duchess  of 
Dunstable  next  day,  and  said,  "  I  looked 
in  at  my  great-niece,  Beryl  Clarges', 
last  night  and  found  she  'd  a  party  of 
young  people.  What  extraordinary 
dances  they  do  nowadays,  to  be  sure ! 
I  don't  know  when  I  've  laughed  so 
much  !  Your  Frederica  seemed  particu- 
larly au  fait  at  a  dance  called  the 
Chimpanzee  something-or-other." 

"  My  Frederica ! !  "  gasped  old  Dun- 
stable.  "  My  Frederica  was  at  home — 
in  bed ! " 

"I  daresay  you  do,"  rejoined  the 
Humguffin,  who  's  deafer  than  twenty 
posts ;  "  but  I  think  it 's  hardly  wise 
for  you  to  do  such  violent  dances  at 
your  age." 


The  engagement  of  Peggy  Sandys, 
the  Bamsgates'  younger  girl,  has  come 
as  quite  a  great  little  surprise,  except 
to  those  behind  the  scenes.  She  carnc 
out  last  year  and  made  an  instant 
success.  She  's  one  of  those  girls  who 
happen  now  and  then  (your  Blanche 
was  one  of  them  once  upon  a  time), 
who  are  proposed  to  by  almost  every- 
one, and  are  quite  tired  of  saying  No. 
She  has  the  young  girl's  funny  trick  of 
having  ideals  and  being  in  earnest,  and 
has  let  it  be  understood  that  the  men 
of  to-day  don't  come  near  her  standard. 
Her  granny,  Popsy,  Lady  B.,  tells 
people  that,  at  eighteen,  she  was 
exactly  like  Peggy  herself.  But,  in 
spite  of  the  fearful  prospect  thus 
opened,  the  girl  goes  her  conquering 
way.  I  can  best  describe  her  by  telling 
you  that  half  the  women  say,  "  I  can't 
imagine  what  people  see  in  that  girl !  " 
and  the  other  half  say,  "Pretty'?  She 
hasn't  &  feature  in  her  face,  my  dear." 
When  those  things  are  said  on  all  sides, 
you  may  know  the  lucky  child  has 
quite  quite  got  there !  Passe  pour 
cela. 

At  a  boy-and-girl  dance  at  the  Middle- 
shires'  one  night,  Peggy  was  doing  a 
sit-out  with  Lolly  ffollyott  (Ninny's 
brother).  Their  chat  began  by  Lolly 
proposing  once  more  and  being  refused. 
Then  they  went  on  to  talk  Pekingese 
— they  're  both  ardent  owners  and 
exhibitors  of  the  little  butterfly-dogs  ; 
and  so  they  got  to  the  Age  We  Live  In, 
and  Peggy  pronounced  it  an  age  abso- 
lutely incapable  of  heroism. 

"  Why,  look  at  you  all,"  she  said  ; 
"you  men  of  to-day,  compared  with 
the  knights  of  old  who  died  for  their 
lady-loves !  " 

"  Don't  be  rough  on  us,"  pleaded 
Lolly.  "  The  knights  of  old  got  their 
chance  at  tournaments  and  things,  and 
there  ain't  any  real  tournaments  any 
longer.  But,  if  the  idea  is  that  we  "re 
to  die  for  you,  you  've  only  got  to  ask 
us  to  cross  the  road — that 's  almost 
certain  death  now." 

But  Peggy  wouldn't  listen.  "The 
age  of  heroism  is  dead,"  she  persisted. 
"Not  one  of  you  is  capable  of  an 
iieroic  act." 

Next  week  was  the  Dog  Show  at  the 
Floricultural  Gardens.  Peggy  Sandys 
carried  off  everything  with  her  peky- 
peky,  Ming-Ming  the  23rd.  The  little 
champion  was  quite  the  centre  of 
attraction,  sitting  thoughtfully  in  a  big 
satin-lined  jewel-ease,  with  mounted 
police  all  round  him  and  Life-guards 
Beyond  the  police — in  case  of  foul  play. 
Peggy,  dressed  in  muslin  and  smiles, 
was  seated  near  by,  and  Lolly  came  up 
";o  congratulate  her. 

"  Thanks  awfully,"  said  Peggy. 
1  Yes,  I  'm  frightfully  proud  and  happy 


to-day.     But  why  aren't  you  showing  ? 
You've  some  good  ones,  haven't  you '?  " 

"  Yes,  I  've  some  good  ones," 
answered  Lolly,  looking  wistfully  at 
Ming-Ming  the  23rd  and  his  mounted 
police  und  Life-guards;  "but  I  ain't 
showing  any  of  'em  to-day.  I  say, 
look  here,  I  wish  you'd  come  to  tea  fit 
my  place  to-morrow  and  have  a  look  at 
'eui — I'd  like  your  opinion."  Peggy 
said  she  'd  go,  and,  as  she 's  very 
independent  and  quite  a  law  unto  her- 
self, she  did  go. 

"They're  all  nice  little  thingy- 
things,"  said  Lolly,  as  he  showed  her 
his  doglets,  "  but  Confucius  is  the  best." 
Peggy  darted  forward  to  examine 
Confucius ;  then  she  gave  a  scream 
(if  she'd  lived  fifty  years  ago  sho'd 
have  fainted),  and  turned  upon  Lolly. 
"  Why,"  she  gasped,  "  he's  got  all  the 
points — and  more  than  all." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Lolly  sadly. 
"  He 's  got  'em  all — and  a  bit  over. 
His  eyes  bulge  a  weeny  bit  more  than 
Ming-Ming's,  as  you  see,  and  his  brow 
is  a  teeny  bit  more  thoughtful ;  arid 
then  he  's  the  extra  toes." 

"  And  yet  you  didn't  show  him  ?  " 
cried  Peggy.  "  Are  you  mad  ?  " 

"  No,  Peggy,  1  ain't  off  my  chump," 
said  Lolly ;  "  I  didn't  show  him — 
because — 

A  light  broke  on 'Peggy.  "I  see; 
you  didn't  show  him  because  you  didn't 
want  him  to  cut  out  my  Ming-Ming." 

"  That 's  about  the  size  of  it," 
assented  Lolly.  "  It  's  nothing  to 
make  a  dust  about — I — I  was  glad  to 
do  it — though  it  did  want  some  doing." 

"  I  take  back  all  I  said  the  other 
night,"  cried  the  enthusiastic  Ppgcy. 
"  The  age  of  heroism  is  not  dead  !  No 
knight  of  old  ever  performed  a  greater, 
nobler  action  for  his  lady-love  than  you 
did  in  keeping  back  this  angel  from  the 
show,  so  that  he  shouldn't  cut  out  my 
Ming-Ming." 

And  now  Lolly  and  Peggy  are 
engaged.  (There  are  always  poisonous 
persons  who  try  to  spoil  a  pretty  little 
romance,  and  these  creatures  say  Peggy 
only  accepted  Lolly  to  be  part  owner 
of  Confucius.) 

Norty,  who  keeps  me  posted  up  in 
Parliamentary  matters,  tells  me  a  Bill 
is  coming  before  the  House  for  the 
abolition  of  coastguards  and  all  coast 
defences,  and  in  their  place  large  notice- 
boards  are  to  be  erected  warning  foreign 
warships  that  if  they  approach  our 
shores  too  closely  they  will  he  liable  to 
a  penalty  not  exceeding  forty  shillings. 
The  money  saved  on  coast  defences 
would  be  used  to  build  free  picture 
palaces  for  the  unemployed.  Norty 
hopes  to  put  in  one  of  his  scathing 
speeches  when  the  Bill  comes  up. 

Ever  thine,  BLANCHE. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JUNE  25,   1913. 


BLAMELESS    TELEGRAPHY. 

JOHN  BUM,.  "  MY  BOYS,  YOU  LEAVE  THE  COURT  WITHOUT  A  STAIN— EXCEPT,  PERHAPS, 
FOR  THE  WHITEWASH." 


49G 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[Jrr,Y  25,  1913. 


ONCE    UPON   A   T1MK. 

LIMITATION'. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  then-  uas  a  trout 
who  lived  in  a  stream  much  frequented 
by   anglers.      But    though    lie    was    of 
some   maturity   and    had    in    his    time 
leaped  at  many  flics  and  grown  sturdy 
on  them,  they  had  always  boon  living 
creatures  and  not  the  guileful  work  of 
man.     Hence,  although  well  informed 
on  most  matters,  of  the  hard  facts  of 
fishing   ho   knew   only   what    ho   had 
been  told  by  such  of  his  friends  as 
been  hooked  and  had  escaped,  and  fron 
watching  the  ancient  hooksmith  of  hi: 
tribe  at  work  in  his  surgery  extract 
ing  barbs.     For,  just  as  children  stant 
at  the  smithy  door  watching  the  mak 
ing  of  a  horsa-sboe,  so  do  the  younge; 
trout  cluster  round  the  hooksmith  anc 
observe  him  at  his  merciful  task. 

This  trout  was  in  his  way  a  bit  o 
a  dandy,  and  one  of  his  foibles  was  to 
be  weighed  and  measured  at  regulai 
intervals  (as  a  careful  man  does  at  bis 
Turkish  bath),  so  that  be  might  know 
how  things  stood  with  him.  Fitness 
was,  in  fact,  his  fetish  ;  hence,  perhaps 
bis  long  immunity  from  such  snares  as 
half  Alnwick  exists  to  dangle  before  the 
eyei  of  undiscriminating  and  gluttonous 
fish. 

But  to  each  of  us,  however  wise  01 
cautious,  a  day  of  peril  comes  soon  01 
late.  It  happened  that  on  the  very 
afternoon  on  which  he  had  learned 
that  be  was  fourteen  inches  and 
quarter  long  and  turned  the  scale  at 
twenty-four  ounces,  the  trout  met  with 
a  misadventure  which  not  only  was 
bis  first  but  likely  to  ba  his  last.  For 


;he  fellow 
bands   but 


an  inch,   and  weighed 
inder  three  pounds." 


seeing  a  particularly  appetising  look- 
ing fly  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  and 

being  rather  less   carefully  obsorvant 

than  usual,  he  took  it  at  a  gulp,  and 

straightway  was  conscious  of  a  sharp 

pain  in  his  right  cheek  and  of  a  steady 

strain  on  the  same  part  of  his  person, 

pulling  him  upwards  out  of  the  stream. 
Outraged  and  in  agony,  be  dashed 

backwards   and   forwards,  kicked  and 

wriggled ;  but  all  in  vain  ;  and  at  last, 

worn  out  and  ashamed,  he  lay  still  and 

allowed   himself   to  be  drawn  quietly 

from  the   water   in   a   net   insinuated 

joneath  him.     In  another  moment  he 

ay  on  the  bank  beneath  the  admiring 

and  excited  eyes  of  a  man. 

A  pair  of  hands  then  seized  him  and 

-he  hook  was  extracted  from  his  right 

3heek  with  very  little  tenderness. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  trout's 
good  fairy  came  to  his  aid,  for  the  man 
in  his  eager  delight  placed  him  where 

the   turf  sloped.     The  trout  saw   the   __.e^  „. .,, 

friendly  stream   just   below,   gathered  j  Time,  llf-sees/1 
his  strength  for  a  last  couple  of  despair- 
ing struggles,  and  these  starting  him  on 


the  downward  grade,  he  had  splashed 
into  the  water  again  before  the  angler 
realised  his  loss. 

For  a  while  the  trout  lay  just  where 
ho  sank,  motionless,  too  exhausted  to 
swim  away,  listening  languidly  to  what 
was  being  said  about  him  on  the  bank 
by  the  disappointe.l  angler  to  a  friem 
who  had  joined  him  At  length,  having 
collected  enough  power,  he  swam  awa\ 
to  safety. 

That  evening,  3-011  may  ho  sure,  the 
trout  had  plenty  to  tell  his  companion 
when,  after  their  habit,  they  discusser 
the  day's  events  in  a  little  crowd.  There 
were  several  absentees  from  the  circle, 
and  two  or  three  fish  who  were  present 
had  swollen  jaws  where  hooks  had 
caught  and  broken  away;  while  one 
actually  had  to  move  about  and  eat  and 
talk  with  a  foot  of  line  proceeding  from 
his  mouth,  attached  to  a  hook  which 
none  of  the  efforts  of  the  profession  had 
been  able  to  dislodge. 

"  But  the  thing  that  bothers  me,' 
said  our  trout,  as  lie  finished  the  recital 
of  his  adventures  for  the  tenth  time, 
"  is  men's  curious  want  of  precision. 
It  is  true  they  don't  carry  scales  about 
with  them  as  we  do,  but  they  oughtn't 
to  make  shots  so  wide  of  the  mark.  Not 
with  all  their  advantages,  they  oughtn't. 
Look  at  their  powers.  Fishing  rods  and 
tackle  and  false  May  flies  are  alone  a 
pretty  good  proof  either  that  they  have 
too  many  brains  or  we  too  few ;  but 
then  there  are  all  the  other  things. 
There's  telegraphy  and  the  telephone, 
phonography  and  the  cinema;  there's 
SHAKSPEAKE,  photography,  MICHAEL 
ANGELO,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  Surely 
with  such  a  record  men  ought  to  be 
able  to  do  a  little  thing  like  guessing 
pretty  nearly  accurately  the  weight  and 
length  of  a  trumpery  fish  !  Yet,  while 
"  was  lying  there  in  the  water  getting 


jack  my  strength,  I  distinctly  heard 
who  had  had  me  in  bis 
had  lost  me,  telling  his 

'riend  that  I  was  two  feet  four  if  I  was 


OGC.   VEESE. 

(Tn  the  manner  of  "  The  Westminster 

Gazette.") 
TO-NIGHT  you  will  fare  afar 

Through  the  limpid  aisles  of  space 
To  the  amber  shores  where  the  spindrift 

soars 

In  a  mantle  of  elfin  grace  ; 
And,  though  I  may  never  sharo 

In  your  swift  translunar  flight, 
You  will  send  me  a  hail  o'er  the  star- 
strewn  gale 
When  your  haven  looms  in  sight. 

And  I  with  a  limpet's  clutch 

To  our  love  will  ever  cling — 
Our  love  that  grows  with  the  buddin" 
rose 

And  never  outwears  its  spring. 
And  you,  though  your  soul  has  flown 

To  glory,  my  Ilildegonde, 
In  a  vesture  of  bliss  will  waft  me  a  kiss 

From  the  boundless  back  of  beyond 

Yes,  you  will  asperge  my  brows 

With  the  balm  of  Elysian  dew, 
Till  the  veil  is  drawn  at  the  screech  of 
dawn 

'Twixt  the  astral  me  and  you — 
The  veil  that  I  hope  to  rend 

When  I  quit  life's  fevered  foam 
For  the  argent  isles  when  our  sundered 
smiles 

Shall  merge  in  one  monochrome. 


not   an   ounce 


"  Prince  Auguste  Louis  Alberic  cVArenborg, 
yho  has  been  President  of  the  Suez  Canal 
Company  since  1896,  is  now  in  his  seventy - 
ixtli  year  of  age,  having  been  born  in  Sept- 
•mber  1897.  In  the  absence  of  other  inform- 
ation it  may  be  assumed  that  his  advancing 
.go  is  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  the 
President's  retirement." 

The  Egyptian  Gazette. 

Try   again.       Other   information   may 
put  this  right. 


"  Long  jump  (under  14),  prize  presented  by 
George  Griffiths,  Esq.— 1  Watson,  '2  Geddes. 


lleralJ  and 


Very  nearly  aviation. 


Commercial  Candour, 
i. 

'Intending  Purchasers  of  Motor  Cars  are 
requested   to   inspect   and   try   the   '  — 
jefore  deciding  to  buy  another  make.    You  can 
valk  comfortably  beside  one.  when  travelling 
m  top  gear." — The  Statesman  (Calcutta). 

ir. 

"Furnished  room,  suitable  for  one  or  two 
lentlemen,  for  June,  July  and  August ;  all 
nconvcnierfces." — The  Pittsburgh  7'rc.s-s. 

A  Gleam  of  Journalistic  Modesty. 

"  The  Times  to-day  publishes  the  full  text 

f  the  whole  document.     It  is  quite  impossible 

for  any  ordinary  morning  newspaper  to  publish 

this  in  extenso,   but  below  will   be   found  a 

summary." — Daily  Mail. 

"  Ordinary  "  is  unexpected. 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Oloyno,  formerlv  of 
Rhyl  and  now  of  flint,  have  just  celt-lir.i !..•<! 
their  golden  wedding." 

Manchester  Weekly  Telegraph. 

Can  this  mean  that  the  happy  couple 
have  been  hardened  by  their  matri- 
monial experiences  ? 


"Tennis  player  would  like  to  meet 
player,  not  nc;-rss:irily  first-class." 

Jioiiriieinoiilh  ]>tiihj  F.ilio. 

This  is  how  we  often  feel. 


Trop  de  Zele.  • 

' '  The  Pastor  will  bo  glad  to  know  of  sickness 
in  the  homes  of  members  of  the  Church." 
\Yortliinij  and  District  Jiajitiut  Jlera-ld. 


25,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


497 


Hostess.    "  OH,    I  HOPE   YOUR    DOG   WON'T  GO   INTO  THE   KITCHEN ',   THE   FISH   FOB  BADV's   DIXNKR  IS  OS   THE   TABLE." 

Caller.  "I  HOPE  NOT,  INDEED.    HE  ISN'T  ALLOWED  TO  HAVE  FISH." 


THE    SACRIFICE    OF    PAUL. 


PAUL,  when  the  great  Panjandrum  I  obey 
Says  to  me  sometimes,  as  we  leave  tho  office, 

"To-morrow  morning  I  must  be  away," 
Think  you  I  ask  him  where  his  game  of  golf  is  ? 

Ah  no  !  I  take  his  meaning  ;  London  lies 

Hot  as  Sahara,  pitiless  and  arid  ; 
Of  course  he  sorrows  for  some  aunt's  demise, 

Of  course  some  friend  of  his  is  being  married. 

Such  strands  of  dostiny  the  wise  gods  weave 

When  the  long  summer  hours  begin  to  try  meu  : 

Uncles  pop  off,  and  nephews  have  to  grieve  ; 
Our  boyhood's  chums  are  yielded  up  to  Hymen. 

Ye3,  one  and  all  we  have  these  private  claims  ; 

I,  too,  about  a  fortnight  from  to-morrow, 
Mean  to  attend  some  knitting-up  of  names  — 

A  mirthful  push,  oh  Paul,  not  one  of  sorrow. 

Already  I  can  hear  the  choir-boys  sing, 

I  see  the  happy  pair,  the  priest  bald-headed  ; 

And  why  I  want  to  warn  you  of  the  thing 

Doubtless  you  *ve  guessed  :   it  's  you  I  'm  having 
wedded. 


hush  !  site  would  not  like  to  hear  that  oath. 
I  had  soni3  thoughts  at  first  of  Frank  or  Walter; 
But  you  are  dearer  to  me,  Paul,  than  both  ; 
I  need  the  links,  you  need  the  nuptial  altar. 


As  for  the  girl,  of  course  your  choice  is  free ; 

My  blessings  on  your  heads,  you  two  dear  sillies  I 
Her  name,  though,  should  be  kept  quite  shadowy 

And  non-committal.     Let 's  say  Clara  Willis. 

A  quiet  marriage,  Paul.     I  hate  to  boast 
In  cases  such  as  this  about  the  presents 

And  who  were  there;  I  ban  The  Morning  Post; 
A  simple  country  rite  with  all  the  peasants 

Strewing  the  road  with  hay  and  flowers  of  June 
(The  Squire  has  dowered  you  with  a  silver  cruet) ; 

It  must  be  in  the  country,  and  at  noon, 
Because  I  want  the  whole  day  off  to  do  it. 

You  will  not,  Paul  ?    Ah,  stop,  perpend  again ; 

I  think  you  always  loved  me  as  a  brother; 
This  is  a  little  thing ;  I  must  obtain 

My  two  full  rounds  on  some  excuse  or  other. 

I  like  you  for  the  rdle.     You  gain  belief. 

I  see  you  playing  it  with  verve  and  unction, 
And  I  shall  love  relating  to  the  chief 

The  story  of  that  blithe  bucolic  function. 

But  if  you  won't — ah  well,  I  care  not  how. 

Golf  I  must  have — my  brains  are  green  with  mildaw- 
Don't  be  surprised  if  three  weeks  on  from  now 

You  find  me  in  full  mourning,  having  killed  you. 

EVOE. 


498 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  25,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"THE  FAUN." 

ONE  is  familiar  enough  with  the  case 
of  the  Arabian  djinn  or  of  the  Egyptian 
mummy  revived  and  projected  into 
modern  stage-society,  there  to  find 
many  inventions  and  modes  of  speed) 
and  thought  undreamed  of  in  their 
philosophy  of  the  remote  past.  The 
initial  difficulty,  for  which  a  generous 
allowance  is  always  made  by  the 
audienca,  is  to  give  a  colouring  of 
probability  to  the  resurgence  of  these 
antiques.  Mr.  KNOBLAUCH  makes  little 
attempt  to  account  for  the  survival  of 
his  faun  in  the  Italy  of  to-day ;  but 
his  appearance  in  England  is  explained 
on  the  following  grounds.  He  seems 
to  have  been  studying  the  works  of 
SHELLEY  and,  having  acquired  the 
language,  he  comes  over  to  England 
to  make  the  better  acquaintance  of  a 
country  that  produced  a  poet  so  con- 
genial to  a  child  of  Nature. 

His  first  experience  does  not  promise 
well,  for  the  young  gentleman  from 
whose  geraniums  he  emerges  has  just 
returned  from  dropping  £70,000  at  the 
races,  and  obviously  has  little  in  com- 
mon with  the  author  of  Hellas. 

However,  as  soon  as  the  faun  has 
doffed  his  unconventional  skin-coat 
and  got  a  little  accustomed  to  the 
irritating  coercion  of  twentieth-century 
dress,  he  proceeds  gaily  enough  to  the 
preaching  of  his  gospel  of  Nature  and 
natural  selection ;  and  the  rest  of  the 
play — apart  from  some  negligible  dis- 
tractions—  is  a  sort  of  paganized 
version  of  The  Passing  of  the  Third 
Floor  Back. 

There  is  an  attractive  freshness  in 
the  idea ;  but  I  venture  to  think  that 
Mr.  KNOBLAUCH  has  made  one  or  two 
errors  of  judgment.  It  is  true  that  the 
anthropomorphic  imagination  of  the 
Greeks,  seeking  a  symbol  for  certain 
forces  of  Nature,  gave  to  the  faun  a 
human  shape.  (The  Greeks,  of  course, 
called  him  a  satyr,  but  the  faun  of  the 
Romans,  a  variety  of  their  Faunus,  god 
of  farmers,  came  to  be  identified  with 
the  Greek  type.  Pardon  this  pedan- 
try). But,  if  more  or  less  human  in 
shape,  in  attributes  he  was  animal; 
and  only  less  bestial  than  some  of  the 
semi-deities,  say,  of  Egypt,  because  he 
represented  those  instincts  of  the  ani- 
mal world  which  come  closest  to  the 
primitive  instincts  of  humanity.  If, 
therefore,  we  attached  to  the  senti- 
ments of  Mr.  KNOBLAUCH'S  faun  the 
only  meaning  that  they  could  con- 
ceivably have  in  a  faun's  mouth,  the 
topic  all  the  time  was  animal  instincts. 
I  am  assuming,  for  the  author's  benefit, 
that  he  intended  his  faun  to  illustrate 
the  more  romantic  aspects  of  love,  but 


he  could  hardly  expect  this  conception 
of  the  faun-nature  to  be  accepted  by 
anyone  who  thought  about  the  matter 
at  all,  and  certainly  not  by  those 
who  reflected  that  such  aspects  were 
barely  recognised  in  ordinary  life  by  the 
ancients  who  created  this  type. 

At  the  end,  after  arranging  the  best 
part  of  the  cast  in  couples  on  the  lines 
of  natural  selection,  the  faun  is  made 
to  say  that  ho  represented  the  joy  of 
life  in  all  its  forms ;  but  it  was  clear 
that  he  had  really  been  insisting — not 
without  tact,  I  admit — on  one  form  in 
particular — the  joy  of  animal  attraction. 

In  a  matter  of  detail,  but  a  rather 
large  one,  I  think  the  author  was  at 
fault  in  permitting  his  faun  to  play 


BACK  TO  THE  LAND. 

Mr.  MARTIN  HABVEY  (under  cover)  emanci- 
pates himself  from  the  bondage  of  civilisation. 

the  part  of  a  racing  tipster.  How  he 
got  the  inside  information  which  enabled 
him  to  spot  the  winner  for  his  patron 
in  every  race  that  he  touched  I  never 
thoroughly  understood.  His  unusually 
nice  sense  of  smell  could  hardly  account 
for  this  success;  and  I  viewed  with 
scepticism  the  alleged  activities  of  the 
bluebottle  which  served  as  an  inter- 
mediary between  him  and  the  stables. 
I  do  not,  of  course,  cavil  at  this  magic  ; 
my  complaint  is  that,  while  in  his 
homilies  he  was  denouncing  the  sin  of 
worldly  greed,  he  should  have  given  so 
much  practical  encouragement  to  specu- 
lations on  the  turf. 

Another  slight  flaw  was  found  in  the 
Suffragette  element,  which  served  as 
a  side  issue.  It  was  rather  vieux  jeu. 
The  author  seemed  to  have  written  his 
play  several  years  ago,  and  not  revised 
it  in  the  light  of  the  latest  develop- 
ments of  militancy. 

I    cannot     say    that    Mr.    MABTIN 


HARVEY  in  his  skins  recalled  very 
closely  any  known  representation  of  the 
faun  in  antiquity.  Mr.  ERASER  OUTRAM, 
who  piped  and  danced  in  Mr.  MAURICE 
HEWLETT'S  Callisto,  came  much  nearer 
to  the  type.  But  as  Prince  Silcani  (the 
title  assumed  by  the  faun)  Mr.  HAIIVEY 
suggested  rather  effectively  the  irk- 
someness  of  human  clothes  to  a  creature 
of  the  woods ;  and  many  of  his  move- 
ments and  poises  were  in  the  right  faun 
manner.  And  it  is  something  to  his 
credit  that  the  air  ho  had  of  pure  joy 
in  living,  and  making  others  live,  lent 
a  note  of  innocence  to  what  might 
otherwise,  without  intention  on  the 
author's  part,  have  been  unpleasantly 
near  to  animalism. 

Of  the  other  actors,  Mr.  FRED 
LEWIS  bore  with  great  good-nature  the 
reflections  passed  by  the  faun  on  his 
rotundity.  Mr.  BASIL  HALLAM  was  a 
pleasant  figure  as  young  Lord  Stonbury, 
and  went  through  the  preparatory 
stages  of  suicide — never  a  very  eligible 
subject  for  light  handling — with  suf- 
ficient callousness.  But,  as  no  hero 
ever  kills  himself  in  the  First  Act,  we 
allowed  his  courage  a  generous  dis- 
count. 

Miss  MADGE  FABIAN,  who  played  the 
ultimate  lady  of  his  choice,  gave  an 
excellent  account  of  herself  as  a  good 
fellow  with  a  fine  disregard  for  senti- 
ment; but  I  was  very  sorry  for  her 
when  she  was  required  to  confess  the 
latent  instincts  of  sex  by  swooning  in 
the  arms  of  the  first  male  who  kissed 
her.  It  was  the  faun  ;  and,  though  he 
assured  her  later  that  he  had  done  it 
vicariously  on  behalf  of  the  man  she 
loved  (who  had  not  been  consulted  in 
the  matter),  still  it  looked  rather  bad 
at  the  time. 

Both  Miss  MURIEL  MARTIN  HARVEY 
and  Mr.  STAFFORD  HILLIARD  (as  a 
futurist)  threatened  at  the  start  to  be 
amusing,  but  they  too  became  victims 
of  the  faun's  incurable  passion  for 
pairing  people  off,  and  degenerated  into 
common  romantics. 

Up  to  a  point  the  play  was  fairly 
intriguing,  for  you  never  quite  knew 
what  the  faun  was  going  to  do  next. 
But,  when  ones  we  were  satisfied  about 
his  design  (pseudo-renaissance)  and 
examined  the  material  of  the  fabric,  we 
found  it  rather  unsubstantial.  Colour 
and  a  gay  fantasy  showed  in  some  of 
the  decorations  ;  but  there  were  surfaces 
also  of  rather  dull  plaster.  Still  the 
freshness  of  the  scheme  remains,  and  I 
thank  Mr.  KNOBLAUCH  for  that.  O.  S. 


"At  102  Buckenham  was  taken  at  the 
wicket,  and  10  runs  later  fell  to  a  catch  at  silly 
point." — Evening  Standard. 

Then  BUCKENHAM  had  to  go  back  to 
the  pavilion. 


JLM;  23, 


1'UNCir,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHAUIVAIM. 


499 


A   MUCII-NKKDED   REFORM. 

LUMINOUS  LKTTKUS. 
THE  revision  of  our  Impr-rial  nomen- 
claturc  suggested  by  Mr.  HARCOCHT,  in 
his  speech  at  I  ho  Corona  Club  on 
Tuesday  llio  17th,  has  elicited  a  IHIIH- 
ber  of  ink-resting  letters  from  various 
notable  and  notorious  publicists. 

Professor  Sir  HUHKRT  VON  HKK- 
KO.MKR,  C.V.O.,  writes:  Mr.  UAKCOI-UT 
modestly  <l. vacated  tlie  substitution  of 
"  Lulaland  "  for  "The  East  African  Pro- 
tectorate." For  my  part  I  can  seo  no 
objection  to  the  change.  I  should 
certainly  have  adopted  it  in  bis  place. 

Captain  CHAIU  writes :  As  the  re- 
naming of  portions  of  the  Empire  is 
now  being  seriously  discussed  by  the 
SECII ETAH  v  OF  STATE  FOB  TH E  COLON  IKS, 
I  beg  to  suggest  that  the  Orange  Free 
State  Province  might  very  fittingly  be 
re-christened  "Carsonia,"  to  commemo- 
rate the  efforts  of  our  great  leader  lj 
free  Ulster  from  the  fetters  of  Home 
Kule.  I  have,  ii  on  the  best  of  authority 
that  in  the  event  of  the  Governmei.t 
Bill  passing  into  law  it  is  proposed  to 
call  Dublin  "  Devlin,"  an:l  Belfast, 
'•  Patricksford." 

The  President  of  the  Eeading  Radical 
Club  -writes :  The  complete  exoneration 
of  our  gifted  representative  affoids  our 
fellow-townsfolk  a  splendid  opportunity 
of  testifying  their  appreciation  in  a 
concrete  fashion.  The  derivation  of 
"Heading"  from  the  word  "red"  is 
well  established  by  the  best  etymological 
authorities  on  place  names.  What 
more  grateful  way  of  linking  town  and 
hero  together  could  be  devised  than  by 
altering  the  name  of  tlie  former  to 
"R-ufusviUo"  ? 

Mr.  BKKNAKD  SHAW  writes  :  I  can- 
not see  why  the  principle  of  shorter 
mimes  should  be  confined  to  places. 
Take  for  example  the  case  of  Govern- 
ment Departments.  What  could  bo 
more  cumbrous  than  the  <:  Local 
(iovc-mmont  Board"  when  the  "Burns 
Board"  expresses  the  same  thing  in 
one-third  the  number  of  syllables':' 
Similarly  "  Burnsville "  is  a  better 
hiT.auso  a  shorter  name  than  Battersea, 
and  "Burnsland"  is  a  great  improve- 
ment on  that  pseudo-classical  mon- 
strosity, Nova  Scotia.  So,  again, 
11  Sirauss  Booth  "is  a  better  name  than 
"  Handel  Booth,"  not  only  because  it 
saves  a  syllable,  but  because  Strauss 
means  an  ostrich. 

Mr.  FALCONER,  M.P.,  writes:  No  one 
can  study  the  question  of  Imperial 
nomenclature  without  becoming  pain- 
fully c  mscious  of  its  uttsr  inadequacy. 
For  example,  we  have  the  Solomon 
Islands,  but  so  far  we  have  neither  the 
Samuel  nor  the  Isaacs  Islands.  There 
are  two  (ioorgias — but  one  is  in  Trans- 


WAR    INCIDENTS. 

(Oxford  Street  zone.) 

Over-zfaJomP.C.  (suspicious  of  concealed  Jammer).  "Now  THEN,  NOSE  OF  THAT.    Mov» 
ON,  THKRE!  " 

Perfectly  Innocent  Young  Lady.  "THEN  PERHAPS  YOU  WILL  KINDLY  BLOW  MY  NOSE  FOB 

ME." 


caucasia  and  the  other  in  the  United 
States ;  Lloyd's.  Neck  is  a  peninsula 
on  Long  Island ;  and  Lloyd  is  a  post- 
village  of  Jefferson  Co.,  Fla.,  on  the 
Seaboard  Air  Line.  So,  again,  the  Ural 
Mountains  are  not  in  Scotland  or  in 
Crete,  but  in  Eussia !  And,  lastly, 
there  is  no  Oil  City  in  the  British 
Empire,  though  there  are  three  in  the 
United  States,  including  one  "  on  the 
Kickapoo  River,  18  miles  S.E.  of 
Sparta" — I  quote  from  Lippincott's 
dt<~ctlccr. 

Mrs.  CARRIE  CHAPMAN  CATT,  the 
famous  American  Suffragist,  writes : 
While  this  Government  is  in  office 
why  not  change  the  Scilly  Islands  to 
the  Isles  of  Man  and  the  Isle  of  Wight 
to  the  Isle  of  Whitewash  ? 


"  At  the  top  is  a  finely  designed  solid  silver 
ribbon  with  tho  words,  ."National  Reserve 
Challenge  Shield."  The  subject  i»  the  parting 
of  Hector  and  Andrew  Macho,  which  sym- 
bolises tho  spirit  of  the  National  Reserve. 
The  figures  of  Hector  and  Andrew  Macho  are 
raised  from  a  silver  base,  and  at  the  foot  a 
the  motto  '  For  God,  King  and  Country.'  " 
The  Elgin  Courant  and  Courier. 

Tho  Mache  family  was  more  remark- 
able than  is  generally  supposed.  Not 
only  is  there  this  Scotch  hero,  Andrew, 
but  Papier  Macho  did  wonders  in 
France. 

"This  Attractive  Residence,   standing   in 
grounds  of  4  acres,  near  village  church  and 
post.  .  .  .  Garden  would  bo  left  if  required." 
Advt.  in  "  Bystander." 

Personally  \ve  always  tak3  our  own 
garden  with  us  when  travelling. 


500 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JUNE  25,  1913. 


CELEBRATED  TRIALS. 

V.— REX  v.  SLATTERY. 

Martha  Slattory,  described  as  a  spinster  of  no  occupation, 
was  brought  up  on  an  indictment  charging  her  (1)  with 
having  wilfully  abstained  from  sotting  fire  to  or  otherwise 
consuming  or  wiping  out  one  of  the  statutory  Golf  Club 
Pavilions  built  in  pursuance  of  the  provisions  of  the  Act  for 
the  Erection  of  Destructible  Edifices ;  (2)  with  being  an  un- 
suspected person  found  at  large  without  intention  to  burn. 

Mrs.  Knightley,  K.C.,  and  Miss  Stoker  appeared  for  the 
Crown.  The  prisoner  was  undefended  by  counsel. 

Mrs.  Knightley,  in  opening  the  case  for  the  Crown,  said 
the  prisoner  came  of  a  good  Irish  family,  but  had  for  many 
years  been  settled  in  London,  where  she  lived  in  a  small 
way  on  an  annuity  of  £150.  She  spent  her  time  and  a  part 
of  her  income  in  advocating  the  cause  of  homeless  dogs  and 
in  taking  occasional  charge  of  certain  nephews  and  nieces 
of  tender  years  whose  mother  had  suffered  the  loss  of  a  leg 
in  a  motor-bus  accident.  Though  she  had  had  a  good 
education,  having  indeed  resided  for  three  years  at  Girton 
College,  where  she  had  secured  first-class  honours  in  the 
Moral  Science  Tripos,  she  had  never  taken  any  part  in  the 
movement  for  the  enfranchisement  of  women  by  violence. 
She  had  refused  to  belong  to  the  Flames  Club. 

Prisoner.  1  was  never  asked.  They  put  me  up  for 
election  without  telling  me  and  then  pilled  me. 

Mrs.  Justice  Catmus.  What  is  "  pilling  "  ? 

Mrs.  Knightley.  "  Pilling,"  my  Lady,  is  a  process  em- 
ployed by  certain  clubs  and  similar  associations  for  declining 
the  company  of  those  whom  they  consider  unworthy. 

Her  Ladyship.  The  word  is  not  familiar  to  me. 

Mrs.  Knightley.  That  would  be  so,  my  Lady. 

The  Prisoner.  It  was  like  their  impudence  to  pill  me 
when  they  knew  that  nothing  would  induce  me  to  become 
a  member  of  their  silly  club. 

Her  Ladyship  warned  the  prisoner  that  no  good  could 
come  of  these  interruptions,  the  only  effect  of  which  was 
to  damage  her  case.  She  (the  learned  Judge)  was  prepared 
to  give  considerable  latitude  in  view  of  the  prisoner's  not 
having  counsel  to  defend  her,  but  there  must  be  a  limit  to 
indulgence,  and  that  limit  had  now  been  reached. 

Mrs.  Knightley,  continuing,  said  the  prisoner  had  had 
every  chance.  Many  pavilions,  country  houses,  and  grand 
stands  had -been  placed  at  her  disposal,  but  she  had  refused 
to  touch  any  of  them,  and  had  accompanied  her  refusal 
with  contumelious  expressions  which  had  seriously  offended 
many  of  her  fellow-women.  Her  Ladyship  would  remember 
that  before  the  passage  of  the  Act  there  had  been  formed  a 
benevolent  society  composed  of  those  who,  in  the  words 
of  JUSTINIAN,  "  suffragia  sive  combustions  sivs  malleis 
appetunt."  This  society  still  existed,  though  with  a 
diminished  sphere  of  usefulness,  and  its  Committee  had  on 
more  than  one  occasion  remonstrated  with  the  prisoner  on 
her  inactivity  and  lack  of  loyalty  to  the  fundamental 
principles  of  the  Cause.  It  had  all  been  in  vain.  She 
might  remind  the  ladies  of  the  jury  that  under  the  provi- 
sions of  the  Act  two  thousand  pavilions  were  built  every 
year,  the  cost  being  a  first  charge  on  the  Consolidated 
Fund.  It  was  necessary  that  all  these  should  be  duly 
burnt  before  the  31st  of  December  of  each  year,  and  the 
combustionists  were  selected  by  inspectresses  appointed 
under  the  Act. 

Prisoner.  You've  got  the  vote.  What  do  you  want  to 
burn  things  for  now  ? 

Mrs.  Knightley.  The  Legislature  recognised  the  high  moral 
value  of  such  burnings  and  for  that  reason,  as  the  preamble 
stated,  had  decided  to  perpetuate  them  and  make  them  part 
of  the  normal  life  of  the  State. 


Police  Constable  Muttonfist  was  called  by  the  prosecution. 
Ho  deposed  that  when  he  originally  arrested  the  prisoner 
she  came  quietly. 

Her  Ladyship.  Be  careful,  constable.  Are  you  sure  she 
did  not  offer  to  slap  your  face? 

The  Witness.  No,  my  lady. 

Her  Ladyship.  Did  she  not  strike  you  on  the  chest  with 
her  fist  ? 

The  Witness.  No,  nothing  of  the  sort. 

Hr.r  Ladyship  (to  the  prisoner).  You  have  hoard  the  very 
serious  evidence  given  against  you  by  the  constable.  Have 
you  any  questions  to  ask  him  ? 

Prisoner  (to  the  witness).  If  I  had  slapped  you,  what 
would  you  have  done  ? 

The  Witness.  Lord  bless  you,  I  shouldn't  have  minded. 
I  should  have  took  you  just  the  same. 

Her  Ladyship.  Restrain  yourself,  witness.  Your  tone  of 
levity  is  unbecoming. 

The  prisoner  addressed  the  Court  at  groat  length  on  her 
own  behalf.  She  said  she  quite  realised  the  gravity  of 
breaking  the  law,  but  her  principles  compelled  her,  and 
whatever  the  government  might  do  to  her  she  intended  to 
go  on  not  burning  pavilions  to  the  end  of  her  life. 

After  the  Judge  had  summed  up  against  the  prisoner,  the 
jury  immediately  found  her  guilty,  and  she  was  sentenced 
to  a  year's  detention  in  the  crater  of  Vesuvius. 


OUR  CANDID  CRITIC 
AT  LAST  SUNDAY'S  CHUBCH  PARADE. 
THE  fine  weather  encouraged  a  notable  display  of  fashion 
in  the  Park  on  Sunday.  Seldom  have  we  seen  anything 
more  ridiculous  than  the  figure  cut  by  Lady  Soutbford, 
who  should  know  by  this  time  that  purple  doesn't  suit  her. 
Mrs.  Freischutz  called  for  no  particular  comment,  but  her 
lanky  daughter,  Baba,  should  remember  her  size  in  shoes 
before  affecting  a  tight  hobble.  Colonel  Dandrongh  was 
hardly  less  humorous  in  a  tight  blue  frock  coat  that  would 
have  delighted  the  heart  of  GEORGE  ROBEY.  The  Hon. 
Mrs.  Bargess  evidently  felt  the  heat,  and,  had  her  dress- 
maker allowed  her,  would  doubtless  have  patronised  a  chair. 
Mrs.  Dumbarton  Scott  was  not  in  good  voice,  and  probably 
not  more  than  half  the  people  in  the  Park  heard  her  inform 
Captain  Maddison  (whose  tie  was  an  insult  to  the  public) 
that  her  husband  had  appendicitis.  A  ridiculous  pug  was 
leading  the  Countess  of  Camperdown  into  all  sorts  of  trouble, 
and  had  it  taken  her  right  out  of  the  Park  it  would  have 
shown  intelligence  as  to  what  is  not  the  correct  costume 
for  a  lady  of  fifty-five  summers.  Dear  old  Lady  Titherinton 
was  gambolling  among  her  many  friends  in  a  gown  of  crushed 
strawberry,  while  Madame  de  Bouillon  looked  especially 
foolish  in  a  hat  that  might  go  far  to  upset  the  Entente. 
There  are  some  necks  that  make  us  thankful  for  the  open 
neck  craze.  Miss  Ponter's  is  not  one  of  these,  and  the  two 
Miss  Croucher-Brownes  should  remember  that,  however 
shapely  theirs  may  be,  Hyde  Park  at  mid-day  should  not 
be  mistaken  either  for  the  Opera  House  or  the  Waters 
of  Trouville.  Altogether  an  amusing  pageant  not  without 
its  pathos. 

A  Boy  of  the  Bulldog  Breed. 

"  In  the  last  two  games  on  the  Grange  ground,  A.  S.  Nicholson  Las 
come  to  the  rescue  of  the  home  side.  For  four  innings  his  average  is 
•2.  lie  has  been  twice  not  out." — Edinburgh  Evening  Despatch. 


Another  Higher  Critic. 

"An  interesting  and  impressive  sermon  was  delivered  by  the  Eev. 
W.  L.  Watkinson,  D.D.  His  text  was  taken  from  the  ir.'th  chapter 
of  Corinthians,  and  the  32nd,  33rd,  and  34th  verses.  He  dealt  -with 
it  in  his  own  inimical  way." — North  Herts  Mail. 


JTOB  25,  1913.]  _  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 

HISTORICAL   TABLEAUX. 

(A  feature  we  miss  at  the  Imperial  Services  Exhibition.) 


THE  LATEST   CONFERENCE   AT  THE   WAR   OFFICE  TO   DISCUSS   THE   QUESTION  OF  OFFICERS*   PAT. 


AUTHORITIES  FROM  THE  WAR  OFFICE  IN  THE  ACT  OF  REALIZING  THAT  AEROPLANES  CAS  FLY. 


502 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


rxi:  25,  1913. 


HINTS   TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW   TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

FOLLOW  NOTABLE  PEOPLE  ABOUT  AT  PUBLIC  FUNCTIONS  (ASCOT,  FOE  INSTANCE)  AND,  AS  THEY  AKRIVE  WITHIN  RANGE  OF  T1IF 
SNAP-SHOOTER,  ADROITLY  CONTRIVE  TO  BE  IN  THE  PICTURE,  SO  AS  TO  APPEAtt  IN  NEXT  WEEK'S  PHOTOGRAPHIC  PAPERS  UNDER  THI! 
HEADING,  "THE  DUKE  AND  DUCHESS  OF  DUMPSHIRE  AXD  FRIEKD  !  " 


A  TEMPLE  FLOWEE-SHOW. 

NOT  to  go  to  tho  Temple  Gardens 
on  one  of  these  summer  evenings  to 
see  the  Temple  Flower  Show  is  to 
miss  a  feature  of  the  London  season. 
Even  though  you  dross  in  your  best 
and  fill  your  pockets  with  gold,  you 
will  not  find  it  easy  to  get  inside  trie 
gardens ;  the  fuller  your  purse  and  the 
more  glorious  your  raiment,  the  greater 
will  be  your  difficulty  in  gaining 
admission.  The  Benchers  have  in 
effect  ruled  that  unless  you  are  some- 
thing under  five  feet  tall,  with  clothes 
whoso  glory  has  departed  from  them, 
and  with  nothing  in  your  pockets  but 
bits  of  string,  cigarette  pictures,  portions 
of  knives  and  pencils,  tin  boxes,  odd 
buttons  and  treasures  of  that  kind,  you 
must  stay  without.  But  you  can  see 
through,  and  the  whole  show  is  visible 
to  anybody  who  does  not  mind  keeping 
his  nose  close  against  the  railings. 

Most  of  the  flowers  are  wild.  A 
splendid  crop  of  scarlet  runners  is  on 
view.  One  evening  last  week,  I  saw 
one  of  them  hit  a  lour  perilously  near 
to  a  K.C.'s  window,  and  he  ran  them 
out  as  if  a  policeman  wore  behind  him. 
You  will  see  climbers  in  great  variety  ; 
it  is  one  porter's  work  to  keep  them 
from  going  up  the  bank  after  the 
fuchsias  and  geraniums.  I  caught  sight 
of  a  very  pretty  little  creeping  Jenny 
taking  cover  behind  a  big  tree  on  her 


way  "home,"  while  her  pursuer  sought 
her 'in  an  altogether  wrong  direction; 
and  all  this,  remember,  within  sight 
and  sound  of  the  L.  C.  C.  trams. 

"  Kowsie,  come  'ere,  you  norty  girl, 
"relse  the  gentleman  '11  'ave  you,"  called 
a  mother's  help  to  her  charge ;  and 
thus  I  learned  that  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  exhibits  was  a  rose.  Ladies' 
slippers  were  not  so  plentiful  as  might 
have  been  expected,  the  reason  being 
that  to  run  barefoot  upon  the  grass  is 
the  pleasantest  way.  But  away  from 
the  groups,  in  a  corner  by  herself, 
surrounded,  no  doubt,  by  fairies  which 
she  alone  could  see,  there  was  a  little 
pink  columbine,  or  my  eyes  deceived  me ! 

Most  of  thorn  are  wild  flowers,  as  I 
have  said.  There  are  a  few  of  the 
more  delicate  kind,  a  little  sickly-look- 
ing, wanting  care;  but  tho  more  they 
appear  in  this  Temple  show  the  wilder 
they  will  become. 

A  little  before  seven  o'clock  is  a  good 
time  to  walk  from  Fleet  Street  through 
tho  Temple  to  see  the  show;  do  not 
make  it  much  later  for  fear  that  bedding- 
out  time  should  come  and  cut  you  off 
from  your  enjoyment  of  the  flowers. 


"  A  lady's  gold  watch,  between  Drostdy 
Arch  and  Training  College.  I'inder  will  bo 
rewarded  by  returning  same  to  tho  Penny 
Mail  office." 

Grocott's  Penny  Sla'd  (Gr.ihamstown). 

Not  sufficient  reward  for  us. 


THE  EUNNER-UP; 
on,  THE  EIGHT  WAY  TO  TAKE  IT. 

SHK  moved  to  music  up  the  aisle ; 
He  tried  to  weep  and  had  to  smile. 

He  stooped  and  touched  her  bridal 

train, 
Yet  in  his  heart  he  felt  no  pain. 

He  heard  ber  promise  to  obey 

And  knew  'twould  be  the  other  way, 

And  clasped  his  hands  in  silent  prayer 
For  poor  Augustus  standing  thero. 

Her  heavy  father's  heavier  wiS 
He  bore  as  if  he  relished  it, 

And  drinking  deep  of  doubtful  fizz 
(At  subsequent  festivities) 

Ho  thought:  "This  courage  in  cefeat 
May  seem  inhuman ;  it  is  meet 

That  I  should  suffer  for  her  sake 
Some  more  or  less  authentic  acha — 
'Two  slices,  please,  of  wedding-cake  1 ' " 


"  Piano  for  sale  ;  would  suit  beginner ;  also 
handy  D.  B.  Hammerless  Gun." 

ISclfast  Evening  Telegraph. 

The  latter  for  the  beginner's  audience. 


"Nothing  but  Traiso.     Our  4-coursa  la. 
dinner.     Grotto  Caf'j." 

ilanchatcr  Guardian, 

A  too  unsubstantial  meal. 


1TXCH.    OK   THE    LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JI-.VK   25,    I'H.'i. 


ONE    OF    OUR    CONQUERORS. 

iiU  3Ir.  Punch's  respectful  welcome  to  tho  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  FBESCH  EEPUBLIC.] 


JUNK  25,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


505 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  KHOM  THE  DIARY  OF  TODY,  51. V.) 
House  of  Commons,  Monday,  Jim*1  1  (>. 
— The  MKMISKK  FOB  SAHK,  \vlioso  sym- 
pathies are  as  wide  as  his  views  are 
impartial,  is  elate  at  new  turn  of 
Opposition  campaign.  Never  since 
I'ailiamontary  history  was  written  has 
a  belated  Opposition,  weakened  by 
infernal  dissension,  had  such  stroke  of 
luck  as  beneficent  Fortune  cast  in  its 
way  in  connection  with  Marconi  busi- 
ness. Their  management  of  unexpected 
opportunity  was  equal  to  its  unexampled 
:;ir;iiness.  By  skilful  nursing,  a  cloud 
no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand  grew  to  a 
magnitude  that  bleakly  overshadowed  a 
Ministry  which,  achieving  the  GERMAN 
EMPEROR'S  desire  for  his  country,  had 
long  kept  its  place  in  the  sun. 

But,  as  SAHK  shrewdly  points  out, 
"  We  can't  go  on  for  ever  or  even  for  rest 
of  session  harping  on  one  string.  In 
forthcoming  debate  the  Marconi  affair 
will  reach  its  climax.  To  persist  in 
trotting  it  out  would  have  effect  of 
spoiling  excellent  game.  The  West 
End  draper  having  by  dint  of  bold 
advertisement  done  a  fine  thing  in 
Spring  goods  doesn't  continue  to  exhibit 
them  through  June  and  July.  He  has 
a  clearance  sale,  and  with  necessary 
but  slight  alteration  in  text  of  adver- 
tisement brings  out  his  Summer  goods. 
Politicians  not  behind  West  End 
drapers  in  business  aptitude.  Marconi 
played  out.  Very  well.  Play  in  some- 
thing else. 

"And    they've   got   it.      It's   oil — 


A  shaft  from  ARCHER-SHEE. 

alleged  fraudulent  dealing  in  contracts 

npply   of    oil    for   British    Navy. 

LATIMER  remarked  in  quite 

another  connection,   may  be  counted 

upon  to  light  a  candle  in  England  that 


will  burn  up  anything  left  of  Ministry 
after  devastating  result  of  what  may  bo 
called  Marconigrams." 

During  past  ten  days  been  rumbling 
liic  indicative  of  attack  on  Government 
from  this  direction.  To-night  ARCHER- 
Sm:i:  makes  determined  reconnaissance. 
Invites  PJUME  MINISTER  to  appoint 
Committee  to  examine  books  of  stock- 
broker who  took  advantage  of  native 
simplicity  of  Master  of  ELIBANK  "  with 
view  of  ascertaining  whether  invest- 
ments of  Party  Funds  had  been  made 
in  shares  of  Mexican  Eagle  Oil  Com- 
pany." Gallant  Major  explained  that 
he  was  concerned  by  fact  that  this 
Company  "  had  had  and  was  now 
in  contractual  relations  with  His 
MAJESTY'S  Government." 

PREMIER  gave  one  of  the  short  but 


The  HOME  SECRETARY  moves  the 
Second  Reading. 

circumstantial  answers  that  don't 
always  turn  away  intelligent  curiosity. 

"  There  is,"  he  said,  "  no  foundation 
for  story  of  investment  of  Party  funds. 
There  has  not  been,"  he  added,  "  and 
is  not  now  any  contract  between  the 
Government  and  the  Mexican  Eagle 
Oil  Company." 

In  ordinary  business  assembly  that 
would  seem  to  knock  the  bottom  out 
of  newly  projected  enterprise. 

" HERBERT  H.,"  says  SARK,  "is  much 
simpler  than  he  looks  if  he  thinks  he 
has  even  temporarily  checked  the  new 
hunt." 

Business  done. — Second  reading  of 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill 
moved  by  HOME  SECRETARY. 

Tuesday. — "  Mr.  GLADSTONE  ! " 

House  half-startled  to  hear  again 
echoing  through  the  chamber  name 
familiar  in  it  for  more  than  a  genera- 
tion. It  was  the  SPEAKER  calling 
upon  Member  for  Kilmarnock  to  follow 


PREMIER  in  debate  on  Second  Reading 
of  Welsh  Church  Disestablishment 
Bill. 

In  response  there  rose  from  bench  at 


A  FRIEND  OP  COMPROMISE. 
(Mr.  W.  G.  GLADSTONE.) 

his  right  hand  a  tall  figure.  It  bore  no 
personal  resemblance  to  the  illustrious 
statesman  asleep  in  Westminster  Abbey 
these  fifteen  years.  Nor  was  there 
anything  recognisable  in  the  tone  of 
voice  or  manner  of  speech.  The  latter 
unillumined  by  any  spark  of  fire  of 
eloquence  that  glowed  round  the  ora- 
tions of  his  grandsire,  especially  when 
there  was  a  Church  to  be  disestablished 
and  disendowed.  The  House,  fairly 
full,  listened  attentively  to  a  modestly 
planned,  quietly  phrased,  well  reasoned 
speech,  which  obviously  carried  with  it 
the  weight  of  sincerity  and  honest 
conviction. 


THE  MINORITY  REPORT. 

(Lord  ROBERT  CECIL.) 
Opponents  of  Bill  had  hoped  much 
from  the  prospect,  at  one  time  pro- 
mising, of  having  a  GLADSTONE  on  their 
side.  When  it  was  introduced  last 
session  Member  for  Kilmarnock  caused 


SOU 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARI. 


[.JUNE  25,  1913. 


surprise  and  mortification  in  Ministerial 
camp  by  frank  criticism.  Ho  regarded 
tlio  measure  as  too  relentless  in  its  de- 
structive provisions.  Something  like  a 
Cave  was  then  formed.  If  its  inmates 
were  still  active  and  would  go  the 
length  of  voting  against  Second  Read- 
ing Ministerial  majority  would  suffer 
useful  •set-back. 

GLADSTONE  speedily  undeceived  them. 
The  compromise  lie  and  his  friends  sug- 
gested last  year  had  been  rendered  im- 
possible. 

"The  attitude  of  those  representing 
the  Church  on  the  other  side  of  the 
House,"  he  said,  "  has  been  one 
of  taking  everything  and  giving 
nothing.       As    friends    of    com- 
promise we  are  bound  to  do  what 
we  can  against  the  Party  most 
opposed  to  compromise." 

So  the  Cave  crumbled  in,  and 
the  Moderates  going  into  Division 
Lobby  with  the  Government 
kept  their  majority  up  to  ninety- 
nine — "  99  in  the  shade  "  of  the 
Marconi  muddle. 

Business  done. — Welsh  Church 
Disestablishment  Bill  read  a 
second  time. 

Thursday. — After  two  night/ 
debate  House,  by  majority  of  78, 
having  heard  statements  made 
by  ATTORNEY-GENERAL  and 
CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHEQUER  in 
reference  to  purchase  of  shares 
!n  American  Marconi  ( Company, 
'  accepts  their  expressions  of 
regret  that  such  purchases  were 
made  and  that  they  were  not 
mentioned  in  the  debate  on  Octo- 
ber 11  last,  acquits  them  of  acting 
otherwise  than  in  good  faith,  and 
reprobates  the  charges  of  corrup- 
tion brought  against  Ministers, 
which  have  been  proved  to  ba 
wholly  false." 

Strategic  move  indicated  by  this 
resolution  started  yesterday,  when 
BUCKMASTER,  following  LORD  BOB,  still 
implacable  in  hostile  criticism,  moved 
amendment    to    resolution    submitted 
by  GEOBGE  CAVE  on  behalf  of  Opposi- 
tion.    Exultant  shout  went  up   from 
crowded  Ministerial  benches.    It  meant 
deliverance  from  grave  dilemma.     Op- 
position resolution  cleverly  couched  in 
form  designed  to  net  Ministerial  bird. 
As  far  as  it  went  it  probably  broadly 
represented  general  opinion.      Whilst 
regretting  the  Stock  Exchange  trans- 
actions   of    ATTORNEY -GENERAL    and 
CHANCELLOR    OP    EXCHEQUER    it    la- 
mented  "  lack  of    frankness   in    their 
communications  to  the  House." 

Difficult  for  Liberals  to  plump  a 
negative  against  declaration  thus  mod- 
erately set  forth.  But  Parliamentary 
strategy  is  a  game  at  which  two  can 


play.  CAVE'S  card,  at  first  sight  bound 
to  win  the  trick,  was  trumped  by 
UYLAND  ADKINS'S  with  above  result. 

BONNER  LAW'S  good  generalship  in 
selection  of  ground  of  attack  followed 
up  by  admirable  choice  of  Captain  to 
lead  it.  GEORGK  CAVE,  a  name  not 
familiar  to  readers  of  Parliamentary 
reports,  is  one  of  most  precious  assets 
of  Opposition  in  the  Commons.  Certain 
to  obtain  high  office  in  next  Unionist 
Ministry  whenever,  by  whomsoever, 
formed.  His  speech  justified  his  repu- 
tation for  lucid  argument  presented  in 
judicral  form  and  manner. 


acknowledgment  of  mistakes  made,  was 
in  more  militant  mood. 

In  opening  sentence  it  seemed  as 
if  he  proposed  to  carry  the  war  into 
the  enemy's  country.  "  Confession  of 
desire  to  "examine  the  traditions  of 
the  past  with  reference  to  the  private 
connection  of  Ministers  of  the  Crown 
with  trading  companies  holding  con- 
tractual relations  with  the  Govern- 
ment" seemed  naturally  to  prelude 
citation  of  leading  case  set  forth  in 


alleged, 


THE  AMENDE. 
(Sir  RKFUS  ISAACS  and  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE.) 

Excellent  effect  partly  nullified  by 
HELMSLEY'S  performance  in  seconding 
motion.  Whilst  audience,  thronged  from 
floor  to  topmost  bench  of  Strangers' 
Gallery,  waited  for  the  accused  to  offer 
their  defence,  the  virulent  VISCOUNT, 
with  assistance  of  portentous  bundles  of 
manuscript,  stumbled  along  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  saying  nothing  with 
wearisome  iteration  of  phrases. 

ATTORNEY-GENERAL'S  speech,  when 
at  length  he  found  opportunity  to  make 
it,  was  set  in  a  minor  key.  For 
one  who,  as  he  said  in  an  eloquent 
passage,  had  for  a  period  of  eight 
months  daily  lived  among  his  fellow- 
men ."  conscious  of  the  pointed  fore- 
finger" his  manner  was  a  little  mild. 


LLOYD     GEORGE,     following,     whilst  ,,„.,.„„ 

equally    submissive    and   regretful    in  This  sounds  bad  for  Deptford. 


Hansard,  reporting  debate  on  Address 
in    session    of    1903.     There    it    was 
and  not  contradicted,  that  of 
Government   of   the   day  thirty- 
three  Members,  including  eighteen 
Cabinet  Ministers,  held  between 
them  sixty-eight  directorships. 

On  reflection  the  CHANCELLOR 
sheared  off,  content  to  remain  on 
the  defensive. 

To-day  manoeuvring  for  a  place 
fakes  fresh  turn.  It  was  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  who,  in  emergency  re- 
asserting his  natural  place  as 
Leader  of  Opposition,  showed 
the  way.  In  speech  equal  to 
highest  effort  of  former  days  he 
suggested  that  a  form  of  words 
should  be  adopted  permitting 
unanimous  acceptance.  PHEMIEB 
eagerly  held  out  hand  to  seize 
the  olive  branch  extended  across 
the  table.  There  were  consulta- ! 
tions  on  Treasury  Bench  and  in 
his  private  room.  New  amend 
mont  finally  drafted,  but,  since 
it  did  not  express  regret  of  the 
House  at  conduct  of  Ministers, 
inculpated,  BONNER  LAW  would 
have  none  of  it. 

Accordingly,  amid  scone  of  in- 
tense excitement,  House  divided ; 
Resolution  quoted  above  was 
carried  and  will  be  entered  on 
Journals  of  House. 

Business  done. — Marconi  Com- 
mittee's. 

A  "Circla  "  Train. 

"A  special  train  carrying  police  and  news- 
paper reporters  was  rushed  to  the  spot,  and 
approaching  the  robbers  quietly  in  the  long 
grass,  surrounded  them." 

Daily  News  and  Leader. 

"Referring   to   the  purchase   of   American 
shares  by  Ministers.  T/ord  Robert  Cecil';,  daft 
report  says  :—    —Yorkshire  Post. 
And  a  Tory  paper  too  ! 

"GUARDS  PETROL 
ASCOT  COURSE." 

Ereniny  Telegraph  and  Fast. 
What  is  the  Guards'  grievance  ? 

'  Since  the  opening  in  1898  of  the  DeptfurJ 
buthsand  w.ishhouses  it  has  not  baen  necessary 
to  purchase  a  fresh  supply  of  towels." 

Krening  Neil's. 


JUNE  25,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


507 


HARD    TO    PLEASE. 

Local  Busybody  (as  neto  residents  pass).  "  AWFUL  PEOPLE,  MY  DEAR.     THE  MOTHER  I    so  DREADFULLY  LOUD,     I'M  QUITE  SURE 

SHE  ISN'T  A  NICE  SORT  OP  PERSON;     AND  AS   FOB  THE   DAUGHTER " 

Vicar's  Wife.  "WELL,  SHE  LOOKS  A  NICE  QUIET  LITTLE  THING." 

Busybody.  "My  DEAR,  THAT'S  JUET  IT.    I  DETEST  THOSE  QUIET  PEOPLE.    STILL  WATERS  RUN  DEEP,  yon  KNOW." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  SUPPOSE  the  Novel  with  a  Purpose  to  be  infinitely  the 
most  difficult  of  any  form  of  fiction  to  bring  to  a  successful 
issue.  It  is  so  hard  to  mould  a  piece  of  special  pleading 
into  the  shape  of  art.  One  remembers,  for  example,  that 
unhappy  work,  Danesbury  House,  a  story  in  which  character 
and  plot  are  alike  submerged  beneath  a  flood  of  alcohol. 
Mrs.  FRANCIS  BLUNDELL  has  been  more  fortunate.  Her 
Story  of  Mary  Dunne  (MUBKAY)  never  makes  the  mistake 
i  of  sacrificing  probability  to  purpose ;  and  the  result  is 
a  tale  all  the  more  moving  for  its  careful  simplicity. 
Much  of  what  the  writer  wished  to  bring  about,  in  the  way 
of  punishment  for  the  scoundrels  whose  victims  are  the 
Mary  Dunnes  of  real  life,  has  already  been  done  by  recent 
legislation ;  but  the  work  is  by  no  means  over.  I  have 
spoken  of  the  book  as  designedly  simple ;  its  action  is 
confined  almost  entirely  to  three  characters,  Mary  Dunne 
herself,  her  peasant-lover  Mat,  and  old  Father  Delaney,  the 
parish  priest,  whose  simple  credulity  in  obtaining  for  his 
protf (]<'•<•  a  situation  in  England  and  handing  over  the  girl  to 
a^  plausible  stranger  is  the  innocent  cause  of  her  tragedy. 
Even  Mrs.  BLUNDELL  has  written  no  more  poignant  scenes 
than  that  in  which  poor  Father  Delaney  tries  (and  fails)  to 
tell  the  story  of  Mary's  fate  to  her  uncomprehending  mother. 
I  felt  when  reading  it  an  emotion  of  reverence  for  the  writer 


who  has  placed  such  gifts  at  the  service  of  a  noble  cause ; 
it  is  a  contribution  that  can  hardly  fail  of  its  effect. 

Before  I  read  Dr.  FITCHETT'S  story  of  Australia  in  the 
making,  The  New  World  of  the  South  (SMITH,  ELDER), 
I  was,  whether  I  knew  it  or  not,  at  the  mercy  of  any 
enquiring  child  who  cared  to  cross-examine  me  on  the 
subject.  Had  one  of  these  dread  searchers  after  truth 
asked  me  how,  why,  or  even  when,  wo  managed  to  attach 
a  continent  to  our  Empire,  I  should  have  resorted  to  a 
subterfuge  and  referred  him  back  to  his  school-boy  stories 
of  the  bush,  advising  him  that  in  this  instance  the  truth 
was  duller  than  fiction.  As  usual  in  such  cases  I  should 
have  been  hopelessly  inaccurate ;  for  the  story  of  Major 
JOHNSTON  alone,  a  man  who  crushed  one  insurrection  in  1804 
and  carried  out  another  on  his  own  account  in  1808,  leaves 
the  average  fictitious  hero  standing,  and  the  tales  the  learned 
author  has  to  tell  of  the  actual  careers  of  the  bushrangers 
are  quite  as  startling  as  anything  that  has  been  imagined  of 
them.  I  approached  the  work  with  some  reluctance,  as 
being  confessedly  historical  and  matter  of  fact ;  but  in 
supposing  that  I  had  something  to  contend  with  I  reckoned 
without  Dr.  FITCHETT.  He  has  done  all  the  contending,  to 
produce  ultimately  a  book  of  the  size  and  price  of  a  novel 
and  also  as  easily  read  and  digested.  The  dates  and  the 
statistics  are  there,  but  are  kept  well  in  control.  If  it  is 
an  Englishman's  duty  to  his  Empire  to  get  to  know  it 


508 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  23,  1913. 


thoroughly,  and  his  duty  to  himself  to  do  so  in  the  most 
comfortable  way,  here  is" the  opportunity  to  hegin  or,  as  the 
case  may  be,  to  finish. 

Having  myself  a  nice  taste  in  short  stories,  I  was  espe- 
cially glad  to  welcome  so  choice   a  collection  of  them  as 
this  'that  Mr.  FRANK  HARRIS  has  made  under  the  title  of 
Uupath'd    Waters    (LANE).      The   author    has    long   been 
known  as  among  the  very  few  English   masters  of   this 
medium,  and  you  will  not  have  read  one  of  the  present 
series  without  becoming  happily  aware  that  his  hand  has 
not  lost  its  cunning.     There  is  a  fine  variety  of  styles  and 
subjects,  but  in  each  the  same  sense  of  distinction.     Pro- 
bably only  the  reticence  of  its  treatment  saves  the  first, 
"The  Miracle  of  the  Stigmata,"  from  the  risk  of   giving 
offence ;  granted  the  situation,  it  is  bandied  with  exquisite 
tact  and  delicacy.     I  have,  however,  a  personal  preference 
for  the  stories  in  which  Mr.  HARRIS  can  give  free  play  to 
his  somewhat  caustic  humour.     Perhaps  the  best  of  these 
is  "  An  English  Saint,"  in  which  the  progress  of  a  good- 
looking    fool,    Gerald 
Lawrence,  from  being  a 
nonentity     at      Harrow 
and   Lincoln  (under  the 
mastership     of     Luke 
Rattisori)   to  a  position 
of  fame  and  emolument 
in  the  Anglican  Church, 
is  traced  with  an  irony 
none  the   less    effective 
for  its  restraint.     In  one 
particular,    it    may    be 
noticed,  Mr.  HARRIS  dis- 
plays a  startling  lack  of 
this  virtue.    His  employ- 
ment of  real  names  and 
easily    recognised    per- 
sonalities is   almost   im- 
perial in  its  disregard  for 
convention.      But,     of 
course,   this    only    adds 
to   the   fun.     There   are 
plenty  of  good  things  in 
the    book,    selected,    as 

the  catalogues  say,  to  suit  all  tastes ;  I  can  only  hope  that  |  Horace  Walpole's  World 
there  may  be  many  more  from  the  same  factory  quacy  in    her    treatment, 


Family  spectres  may  always  look  to  mo  for  a  cheery 
welcome,  and  when  I  found  that  a  brown  dog  was  in  the 
habit  of  appearing  to  the  Holts  at  disastrous  crises  in  their 
lives  I  settled  down  to  an  earnest  perusal  of  Mr.  HALLIWKLL 
SUTCLIFFE'S  The  Strength  of  the  Hills  (STANLEY  PAUL),  for 
which,  on  the  whole,  I  think  I  may  say  the  merits  of  the 
story  rewarded  me.  There  are  dull  patches  in  the  book, 
but  not  so  many  as  to  cause  a  reader  to  regret  having 
allowed  himself  to  make  the  trip  to  Yorkshire,  personally 
conducted  by  Mr.  SUTCLIFFE,  who  by  this  time  has  estab- 
lished as  clear  a  title  to  the  Haworth  Moorland  as  the 
Holts  had  to  Eller  Beck  Mead.  The  Strength  of  the  Hills  is 
the  old,  but  always  readable,  story  of  the  sport-loving  son 
who  turns  his  back  on  sport  and  goes  to  work  at  an 
uncongenial  but  profitable  task  in  order  to  wipe  off  a  debt 
of  honour  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  dead  father.  When 
Squire  Holt,  having  duly  seen  the  brown  dog,  passed  from 
this  world,  his  son  Roger,  though  not  knowing  shalloons 
from  plainbacks,  which,  as  I  need  scarcely  tell  you,  is  like 
not  knowing  tummits  from  oats,  built  a  mill  on  Eller  Beck 

Mead,    and   did    so  un- 
commonly well    out    of 
the    shalloons   that   the 
debt  of  honour  was  paid 
off  almost  before  he  knew 
where    he    was.      And, 
after    all,    for    a    young 
man  of  Roger's  militant 
nature,   there  are  worse 
lives.     At   any    moment 
rioters  may  coino  and  be- 
'  siege  your  mill  and  have 
to     be    dispersed    with 
guns.      The   description 
,  of  the  siege  of  Eller  Beck 
'•  mill  was    too    brief  for 
j  my  taste.     It   is  one  of 
j  the   best   tilings   in   the 
book,  and  I  should  have 
liked  to  linger  over  it. 


Globe-trotter  (from  U.S.A.,  doing  Europe).    "SAT,  WILLIE,  WHAT'S  THE 

NAME   OF  THIS   BLAMED   COUNTRY?" 


In  one  respect,  at  any  rate,  The  Law-Bringers  (HODDER 
AND  STOUGHTON)  is  not  short  measure,  for  it  is  nearly  four 
hundred  pages  in  length,  and  has  about  fifty  lines  on  a 
page.  Mr.  G.  B.  LANCASTER  is  also  lavish  of  hyphens ; 
from  curiosity  I  counted  the  crop  on  page  23  until  I  came 
to  "  fine-tooth-combs  "  and  did  not  know  whether  it  ought 
to  be  recorded  as  a  single  or  as  a  brace.  The  book  is 
concerned  with  the  lives  of  the  Royal  North-West  Mounted 
Police  of  Canada,  and  so  plentiful  are  the  dangers  through 
which  the  two  heroes  have  to  pass  that  it  is  greatly  to  the 
author's  credit  to  have  preserved  them  to  the  end.  Relief, 
however,  from  the  prevailing  atmosphere  of  jeopardy  is 
provided  in  the  contrast  between  the  characters  of  Tempest 
and  Heriot;  indeed,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Mr. 
LANCASTER  is  most  in  his  element  as  a  psychologist. 
Tempest,  with  his  terrific  love  for  Canada,  is  a  most 
admirable  study,  and  attracted  me  more  by  the  workings  of 
his  mind  than  by  his  feats  of  physical  endui'ance.  Never- 
theless, we  arc  given  so  many  hairbreadth  escapes  that 
readers  who  like  their  heroes  to  exercise  themselves  solely 
between  the  frying-pan  and  the  fire  must  not  be  alarmed 
by  my  advertisement  of  Mr.  LANCASTER'S  analytical  gifts. 


I     think     that     Miss 
GREENWOOD,  when    she 
surveyed    her   study    of 
BELL),    suspected  some   inade- 
for    she    has   given    her    book 
the  alternative  title  of  A  Sketch  of  Whig  Society  under 


George  III. ;  but  even  as  a  "  sketch  "  her  book  is  hardly 
justified.  She  has  written  certain  amusing  and  well- 
informed  essays  on  such  subjects  as  "The  Ministers  of 
George  III.,"  "Society  in  France,"  "Horry's  Duchesses," 
and  then  clamped  them  together  between  two  handsome 
blue  covers.  These  essays,  however,  obstinately  refuse  to 
catch  either  the  master  of  Strawberry  Hill  or  his  world. 
To  anyone  who  knows  nothing  of  this  period  very  little 
solid  ground  is  here  to  be  obtained,  whilst  for  anyone  who 
knows  a  good  deal  there  is  no  fresh  discovery  nor  novel 
interpretation.  I  fancy  that  Miss  GREENWOOD  has  been 
worried  by  the  brilliance,  the  shining  humour  and  vitality 
of  the  famous  Letters  and  has  found  so  much  that  is 
entertaining  that  she  has  been  bewildered  and  has  lost 
the  central  theme  that  would  have  welded  her  sketches 
together.  Her  pages  are  never  dull,  but  they  have  not,  at 
the  end,  quite  justified  their  existence.  "  HORRY  "  has, 
I  think,  eluded  her,  and,  smiling,  has  remained  always 
just  outside  her  vision.  A  word  of  praise  must  be  given  to 
the  excellent  illustrations.  I  like  especially  the  frontispiece, 
which  shows  us  the  subject  of  the  book  more  truthfully  and 
with  a  finer  gaiety  than  all  Miss  GREENWOOD'S  pages. 


Ji-xr:  25,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


509 


MARCONI    ECHOES. 

IT  was  Henley,  and  the  luncheon-interval  drew  drowsily  to  a  close. 

On  the  flowery  deck  of  a  houseboat,  side  hy  side — indeed  they  had  paired  for  the  day — sat  two  of  our  statesmen, 
full  of  meat  and  drink,  and  in  a  state  of  content  which  had  dulled  the  last  lingering  doubt  as  to  whether  the 
Legislature  would  be  able  to  carry  on  without  them. 

"I  wish,"  said  the  Eadical,  fanning  himself  with  a  copy  of  the  anti-gambling  Dally  News, — "I  wish  I  could  get 
someone  to  give  me  decent  odds  against  New  College  for  the  Grand." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Tory,  "  nobody  bets  at  Henley.  It  is  one  of  the  few  purely  sporting  meetings  left 
to  this  nation  of  sportsmen.  You  must  have  been  reading  the  Majority  Eeport  of  the  Marconi  Committee.  It's  all  for 
gambling  among  politicians.  In  future  any  Minister  has  only  got  to  say  that  he's  been  having  a  flutter  on  the 
Stock  Exchange  and  .he  becomes  entitled  to  a  bucket  of  FALCONER'S  best." 

"  I  don't  see  why  Ministers  shouldn't  gamble  if  they  want  to.  What  have  their  private  affairs  to  do  with  their 
public  duties  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  pay  some  of  them  £5,000  a  year  not  to." 

"  No,  we  don't.  We  pay  them  salaries  for  the  work  they  do.  You  '11  tell  me  nest  that  a  Minister  mustn't 
marry  because  marriage  is  notoriously  a  lottery." 

"But  you  wouldn't  have  approved  if  HALDANE,  say,  when  he  was  at  the  War  Office,  had  married -the  daughter 
of  an  Army  Contractor,  would  you  ?  " 

"  No;  but  then  I  couldn't  have  endured  to  see  him  marry  anybody.  To  me,  he  is  the  perfect  typo  of  celibacy — 
a  lesson  to  us  all !  " 

"  But  seriously — we  '11  grant  that  your  speculating  friends  in  the  Cabinet  meant  no  harm,  but  mightn't  they 
hnvo  been  a  little  more  frank  about  it  all  ?  " 

"But  they  trere  frank.  They  admitted  their  mistake  when  they  saw  what  a  mess  it  had  got  them  into.  But 
t  the  time — on  October  llth — they  naturally  wanted  to  avoid  the  very  appearance  of  evil.  Appearances,  as  you 
kr.ow,  are  so  deceptive." 

"  I  noticed,  by  the  way,"  said  the  Tory,  "  that,  though  these  Members  confessed  a  sort  of  regret  for  their  errors, 


510 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  25,  1913. 


it  was  given  out  that,  if  a  majority  of  the  House  expressed  itself  as  sharing  that  regret,  they  were  prepared  to  resign. 
How  do  you  explain  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  very  natural  and  pardonable  vanity.  They  wouldn't  care  to  have  their  own  original  views  appropriated 
by  a  lot  of  other  people.  Besides,  when  I  cry  Peccavi,  I  don't  want  you  to  answer,  '  So  you  have ;  I  thoroughly  agree 
with  you.'  On  the  contrary,  I  expect  you  to  say,  '  Not  at  all,  my  dear  fellow,  not  at  all.'  " 

"Which  is  practically  what  the  majority  of  the  House  did  say.  However,  that  chapter  is  closed  as  far  as 
Parliamentary  verdicts  go.  But  I  will  just  add  this  parting  thrust.  When  the  rest  of  the  scandal  has  blown 
over,  LLOYD  GEORGE  ought  still  to  find  his  position  rather  embarrassing.  I  don't  care  whether  he  gambles  in 
American  Marconis  or  Sumatra  Eubber ;  the  point  is  that  you  can't  preach  from  pulpits  about  the  horrors  of 
unearned  increment  after  you've  been  doing  a  deal  in  speculative  stock  yourself.  Unless,  of  course,  he  wants  to 
illustrate  his  discourses  with  an  awful  example  in  his  own  person." 

"But  why,"  asked  the  Eadical,  "should  you  insist  on  his  practising  what  he  preaches?  Give  me  a  man 
of  principles,  I  say,  who  knows  how  to  lay  down  the  law ;  and  anybody  else  can  carry  it  out.  I  never  confuse  the 
legislative  with  the  executive  function.  I  agree  with  BROWNING'S  Ogniben,  who  had  seen  three-and-twenty  leaders 
of  revolt.  '  Ever  judge  of  men,'  he  says,  '  by  their  professions  and  not  by  their  performance ;  which  is  half  the 
world's  work,  interfere  as  the  world  needs  must,  with  its  accidents  and  circumstances;  the  profession  was  purely 
the  man's  own.'  No,  I  have  no  fears  for  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  future.  Besides,  he  wasn't  speculating  at  all ;  he  was 
investing  for  keeps.  He  said  so." 

"If  he  meant  it  for  a  permanent  investment,"  said  the  Tory,  "he  sold  out  rather  soon— a  couple  of  days  or  so 
later,  wasn't  it  ?  But  take  him  at  his  word  and  say  that  he  intended  this  speculative  stock  to  be  a  source  of  steady 
income  for  himself  and  family — then,  in  that  case,  I  find  him  a  shade  too  guileless.  A  man  who  claims  to  be  such 
a  child  in  business  matters  is  far  too  beautifully  innocent  for  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  who  has  to  conduct  the 
financial  affairs  of  the  nation.  Hullo !  Who 's  the  ancient  Pierrot  in  the  punt  ?  " 

The  Eadical  turned  and  saw  a  strange  figure:  obviously  a  sage,  by  his  air  of  philosophical  detachment 
that  contrasted  curiously  with  the  gay  trappings  of  masquerade. 

Conscious  that  he  was  the  object  of  remark  the  Pierrot  rose  and  addressed  them. 

"Pardon  me,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "if  I  have  involuntarily  overheard  your  conversation.  I  will  not  intrude 
upon  your  political  differences,  for  in  these  matters  I  make  a  point  of  preserving  a  nice  impartiality.  But  you  were 
comparing  speculation  with  investment,  and  here  I  have  strong  views  of  my  own.  I  am  in  a  position  to  recommend 
to  you  something  which  is  at  once  a  sound  investment  producing  high  interest  and  also  a  speculative  venture 
promising  a  sharp  rise  in  value.  Permit  me — " 

Thereupon  Mr.  Punch  (for  his  identity  now  shone  very  luminously  through  his  disguise)  exhibited,  amid 
a  murmur  of  applause  from  the  surrounding  pleasure-craft,  his 


Volume, 


JUNE  25,  1913.]    . 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


511 


PARTRIDGE,  BEIISAI:I). 

Ilaned  Out 


Blessings  of  Peace  (The) 

Five  Keels  to  None    

For  the  Spoils  !  

Futurist  (The) 

German  Lloyd  (The) 

In  Honour  of  Bravo  Men  Dead  . . 

Latest  Scandal  (The) 

Majesty  of  the  Law  (The)    

Not  Lost  but  Left  Behind  . . 


One  of  our  Conquerors . 
Peace  Conies  to  Town  . 

Pegasus  Appeals 

Pleasure  Deferred  (A)   


Al.I.EX,  F.  L. 

Forced  Cards  ................... 

Optimist  (The)  ................... 

AllMlTACE,  U.  W. 

Mountain  Hare  (The)    ........... 

Turncoat  (The)    ................. 

ATKEV,  BERTRAM 

Human  Handicap  (The)   ..... 
BIRD,  A.  W. 

Unexpected  (The)  ............... 

I.IsMor,  Miss  N.  D. 
NaUire  Knowledge.  .  . 

BKEX,  J.  T. 

London  is  so  Bracing    ........... 

Mr.  Punch's  Academy  Encourage 
ments  ......................... 

More  Academy  Encouragements   . 

Roue  Bowl  (The)  ................. 

BROWN,  C.  HILTON 

Uarnlet  ......................... 

BI-RXET,  W.  HODGSON 

Arc  we  too  Busy  to  Think  ?  ........ 

Family  "  Agreement  "  (A)   ........ 

More  Concessions  ................ 

CHALMERS,  P.  R. 
Chosen  Saint  (A)  .................. 

Cowslip  Wine  .................... 

0  (The)    ...........  ......... 

Thames    ...... 

Flighting  ....................... 

I'd  have  a  Dairy  ................. 

If  Flowers  had  Ghosts  ........... 

In  the  He-innit  :;     ......... 

Lass  I  Love  (The)  ................ 

Lurcher  (A)  .  . 

Old  House  (An) 

RralTnrlle  ...  .....  ..'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. 


............ 

Thirty  Minutes  Late 
loan  Elderly  Female   .. 

1  M  rum  St,.ry(A)  ____ 
With  the  Mule-Train  ...... 

CRESWELL,  BULKEI.KY 

Fail  Field  (A)  .............. 

"  In  the  Spring"    ....... 

DEANI:,  Canon  A.  6. 
Transformation  Scene  (A)  ........ 


423 
163 
283 
4S3 
243 


(17 
503 
403 

41:3 

105 


ISO 
309 

2S2 
202 

C2 
189 
329 
177 

400 

420 

99 

408 

08 
149 
123 

63 

307 
280 
427 

a 

30:i 
209 
112 
239 
254 
350 
228 

13 
3S!> 

37 
201 
171 

200 
227 


PARTRIDGE,  BERNARD. 

Point  of  It  (The) 

Pour  hi  Patrie 

Rig-Time  in  the  House    

Ketuni  of  the  Golden  Age  (The)   . 

Settled  

"  Swelling  Visibly  "   

Tangled  Skein  (A) 

Too  Many  Pips    

Vowed  to  Silence    

Wings  of  Victory  (The) 

RAVEX-HILL,  L. 

Another  Conference  of  London  . . . 
Bayard  of  Bukharest  (The) 


-^te 

Cartoons. 


303 
•_>2:i 

85 
12,-, 
2(i3 
343 

11 
443 
323 
3S3 


RAVEN-HILL,  L. 

Blameless  Telegraphy  

"  liunny  Hug  "  (The)    

By  Favour  of  the  Enemy 

China  T.  Roosevelt    

"  Father  to  the  Thought " 

Feather  for  his  Cap  (A)    

Finishing  Touch  (The) 

Good  Boy  of  the  East  ( 1'lie)    . . 
Grand  International  (The)  . . . . 

"  Les  BeAux  Esprita — "    

Marconi  Octopus  (The)    

Marking  Time 

Ministerial  Bank  Hull-lay  1  )i .  ;n 
Modest  Request  (A) 


....  405 

....  415 

3 

....  455 
....  315 

335 

....  117 
....  435 
. .  . .  135 
..  .175 
....  475 

29 

il(A)215 
....  255 


RAVEN-HILL,  L. 

New  Cocktail  (The)  

NoElfects 

Professional  Jealousy  

Road  Blocked.. 

Koad  Clear   

Scholar-  Poacher  (The) 

Surrey  Riviera  (The) 

"  Time,  Gentlemen,  Please  1 " 
Under  his  Master's  Eye  .... 
Who 's  Afraid  1  

TOWN-SEND,  F.  H. 

Swan  Song  (The) 

Turkey  in  Wonderland 


195 

235 

295 

355 

375 

69 

77 

275 

395 

47 


DE  HAMEL,  HERBERT 

Gratuity  (The) 374 

Second  Chest  (The)   109 

Silent  Tear  (The)    242 

Triumph  of  Method  (Tin1)   860 

ECKERSLEY,  AKTHl'R 

Fashion  Notes 302 

How  to  Stimulate  Play-going    854 

More  Dramatic  Combines    409 

O.U.D.S 123 

Temporary  Companions  184 

EDEN,  Mrs. 

Epistle  to  Thomas  Black 388 

Senior  Mistress  of  Blyth  (The)  ....  810 
To  my  Daughter 459 

ELI  AS,  FllANK 

By  Favour  of  the  Militants    208 

"  Sing  a  Song  of  — "  2(30 

EMAXUEL,  WALTER 

Charivaria   ..    2,19,37,57.75,95,103, 

273,  293,  313,  333,  353,  373,  393,  413, 

433,  453,  473,  493 

World  of  Books  (The)   882 

FISH,  W.  W.  BLAIR 

After  Long  Years  130 

liy  the  Opposite  Route 20 

Checkmating  Time 320 

Cult  of  the  really  Heroic 410 

Emporium  Sports 194 

Home  Thoughts  of  Abroad 333 

How  to  Decline 378 

Love  and  a  Licking   808 

Mr.  Punch  in  the  Past  427,  441,  458,  478 
True  Knights-Errant  (The) 274 

FOWLER,  P.  A. 

Comrades  in  Distress    168 

Spring  Victim  (A) 828 

FllEXCH,  C.  O. 

Alb 490 

Fight  for  Freedom  (A) 846 

Our  Courtship  Column 88 

Silk  Umbrella  (The) 158 

GARVEV.  Miss  ISA 

r.hnrhe's  Letters  20,237,438,494 

Character-and-Destiny  Chats 2 

Interview    with    our    First    Prize 

"  Boblet  "  Winner 138 

Suffrage  Comedietta  (A) 188 


Articles. 


GITTIXS,  H.  W. 

Marjorie  on  the  Turf £80 

GRAHAM,  Captain 

Captains  Courageous 322 

GRAVES,  0.  L.,  AXD  LUCAS,  E.  V. 

Advice  to  Native  Composers 122 

Aftermas  27 

All  the  World '»  a  School 70 

Anti-Touchstones  2S8 

Billiard  Room  (The) 45 

Bleatings  about  Bookmen  477 

Books  and  their  Makers  408 

Bryan's  Breaches   402 

Charm  and  wonder  of  it  all  (The) . .    65 

Christening  of  Canberra  (The)   214 

Clarifying  Comments    5 

Coming  Kings 400 

Confessions  of  Weakness 259 

Conscientious  Programme  (The)  . .  474 
Cremation  of  the  White  Elephant. .  419 

Disappearing  Gentlemen 181 

Dramatic  News  258 

Easter  Bonnet  (The) 229 

English  Bards  and  American  Re- 
viewers       58 

Flash  of  Summer  (A) 100 

Flights  of  Fancy 299 

Further  Glimpses  of  Carlyle 437 

Great  Contest  of  Wits  (A)  198 

Great  Tube  (The)    457 

How  to  Fill  the  Space 353 

Hullo,  Waltz-Time  I  43 

Indiscretions  of  Mr.  Blaise  (The)  . .  318 

Jilted  Nut  (The) 157 

Joints  in  the  Armour   318 

Letters  that  help  us 202 

Literary  Gossip 260 

Literary  Notes    104 

Looking  Forward 248 

Marvels  of  the  Metropolis  480 

Millennial  Meetings 41 

Ministerial  Minstrels    189 

Mr.  Porker  v.  Mr.  Mardon 140 

Much-needed  Reform  (A) 499 

Musical  Notes 82,  o(M>,  378 

Musings  from  Morecambe   359 

Nice  People  (The) 8* 

No  Replies  Needed    159 

Non  Oinnia  Possnmus  Omnes    ....  430 


GRAVES,  C.  L.,  AND  LUCAS,  E.  V. 

Occ.  Verse    496 

One  More  Chapter 178 

Ordeals  of  the  Opulent  (The) 461 

Our  Personal  Column    .    .  342 

Oxford  Intelligence   161 

Paving  Stones  for  — 1 

Pickwick  for  Paris 377 

Piffle  about  Penmen 321 

Hag-Time  among  the  Poets 178 

lied  Heads  (The)    70 

Rival  for  Caruso  (A) 421 

Sayings  of  the  Week 239 

Si  Vieillesse  Pouvaitl   277 

Songshop  (The)  10 

Teddy  and  Edwin 90 

Unsettlcr  (The)  278 

Versatility  Champion  (The)    358 

What  every  Liberal  should  know  . .  281 

Will  Power  393 

Winter  Sportsman  (The) 25 

Wonders  will  never  cease    446 

GORE,  Jonx 

Third-Single  Combat 110 

GREY,  G.  DUNCAN 

On  a  Friend  of  My  Wife's  190 

HASLAM,  RALPH 

Fido    51 

Rupert  80 

HODGKIXSOS,  T. 

Before  the  Tourney  -j •  :> 

Calculated  Argument  488 

Diagnosis  (The)  300 

Farewell  to  Poetry 317 

Insoluble  Problem  (An)  ,148 

Man's  Last  Word  (A) 107 

Picture  with  a  Message  (A) 93 

HOUSE,  P.  P. 

Literary  Notes    278 

HCSKEN,  J.  F. 

Unrest  in  the  Cricket  Field   418 

HUGHES,  C.  E. 

Hole  Story  (The)    303 

INGE,  CIIAS. 

When  War  becomes  Impossible. . , .  154 
JEFFRIES,  J.  M.  N. 

Anglo-French  Misunderstanding  ..  420 


512 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  2~j,  1913. 


Articles— continued. 


JENKINS,  ERNEST 

Information 

It'san  111  Wind --'4 

1-atest  from  the  Hivts 4- 

Spring  Sports 2S 

Temple  Flower  Show  (A) 00 

Truth  out at  Last  (The)   12 

JOHNSTON,  ALEC 

Address  (The) 20 

Cure  (The)' 48 

KELLY,  J.  G. 

Thoughts   on    looking   iliton^li    a 

Christmas  Account  Book    

KKXDALL,  Captain 

Food  of  Love  (The)    39 

Futility S9C 

Morning  After  (The) 61 

Revival  (The) 187 

Sutfering   11 

Superior  Dramatist  (The)    449 

To  a  Beauty  Photographer 2117 

KNOX,  E.  G.  V. 

Better  Way  (The)  S37 

Changeling  (The)    222 

Deferred  Stock   219 

Duel(The)    8S 

Finance  and  Fashion 35£ 

Flutter  on  the  Flat  (A)    44 

For  the  Sake  of  the  Few 879 

Forty  Winks  in  Fleet  Street  442 

Hero  of  the  Hour  (The)    405 

In  the  Teetii  of  Resistance 205 

last  Stand  (The)    182 

Merry  Hind  (The)  124 

My  Play    137 

Non  Beno  Relieta 279 

Ponsonby 810 

Premature  Progress 260 

Pressed  Critique  (The) 249 

Renegade  (The)  28 

Rest  Free 482 

Sacrifice  of  Paul  (The) 497 

Saved 162 

Somewhere  near  Blenheim 301 

S.P.l.K.S.A.  (The) 174 

Spectre(The)  167 

Tactful  Tenant  (The) 101 

To  the  Loaners  of  Light 7 

Torture  (The)  4t 

Two  Epicures :  a  Fantasy  199 

Very  Modern  Traveller  (The) 248 

Vision  (The) 462 

LANG  LEY,  F.  0. 

Cherchez  la  Femme  474 

Detail  (A) 201 

Excess  of  Caution 338 

Fair  Play  400 


LANGI.KV,  F.  0. 

Half  nml  Hall S3 

Hors  ile  ComUat 42 

Joyful  Occasion  (A) 1 

Local  Influence 5 

I. uve  in  a  Heat  Wave 44 

Motor-'Ilus  Handicap       30( 

Past  and  Present   19' 

"Per  Pro"   6 

Pride  and  the  Fall Ill 

Professional  Remover  (The) 92 

Itelurn  (The)    30! 

Safe  Bind,  Safe  Kind 140 

Vernal  Kqiiiiiox  (The)  

LAWS,  A.  Uor.DON 

Blackleg's  Conversion  (The)   58 

Village  Scandal   469 

LUCAS,  K.  V. 

Once  upon  a  Time        24P,  251,  2S1,  208, 
322,  841,  425,  447,  iW,  47!',  4t'(! 

LUCY,  Sir  HENIJY 

Essence  of  Parliament  weekly  during 

Session 

LULHAM,  HABEERTON 

"All  in  a  Garden  Fair"   290 

"Smart  "Heart  (The) 212 

LEHMANN,  R.  C. 

Brighter  Cricket 254 

Celebrated  Trials  410,  430,  400,  470,  500 

Dance  (The) 89 

Family  Group  (The) 112 

Fresh  Air 328 

Greek  Iambics    148 

Lcs  Affaires  Sont  Les  Affaires   454 

Little  Bit  of  Blue  (A)   208 

Maholi  Oalago 342 

Moeso-Goths  (The). 190 

Monkey  (The) 370 

Mouse-Trap  (The)  890 

Party  (The)  26 

Question  of  Pronunciation  (A)  ....  130 

Recanter  (The)    489 

Romance  of  a  Bill  of  Costs  (The)  .      64 

Sad  Business  (A) 274 

Sofa-dog  (The) 228 

Soliloquy  of  a  Leader    241 

Visitor  (The) 188 

War  (The) 294 

TcKAY,  HEItDEIlT 
Long  Memory  (A) £38 

lAKCHDAKK,  Miss 
Lang  Tryst  (A) 105 

IARTIN,  N.  K. 

Boys  of  the  Day ' 898 

Great  Cup  Tie  (The) 108 

Latest  Cuckoo  Lore 179 

Year  (The) 200 


MILNE,  A.  A. 

At  the  Play 1H,  K! 

(Jetting  Married 314,  340,  SCO,  38( 

Insurance  Act  (An)   28i 

'•Happy  Island"  (The)    288 

Landscape  Gardener  (The) 221 

Mr.  Punch's  Didactic  Novels 41. 

More  Successful  Lives 0  -4,  42 

On  the  Bat's  Back 391 

Tragedy  in  Little  (A)     240 

William's  Secret 300 

Winter  Sport  102,  110,  134,  160,  ItO,  200 
"  Within  the  Law  "    44( 

Muir.,  WAKD 

Hook  (The) 23 

OCII.VIE,  W.  H. 

On  receiving  an  advertisement  of 
Pheasants'  Eggs 147 

PAIN,  Miss  NANCY 

Birthday  Present  (The)    110 

PHILLIPS,  0.  K. 

Green  Jealousy   

Labour  Settlement  (A) 170 

POPE,  Miss  JESSIE 

Clue  (The) 1 59 

Domestic  Problem  Solved  (The)    ..  60 

High  Notes  122 

Milo  Ateasure  (The)    79 

Post-Impressionist  Puff  (The)   819 

Queen  of  the  Road  (The) 466 

Thrush's  Song  (The) 290 

Woolcoinbe  Wood  again  250 

JIGBY,  REGINALD 

Road  to  Knin  (The)  140 

Selling  the  Dummy  480 

Shop  889 

RISK,  R.  K. 

To  a  Dachshund  in  Spring-time. ...  870 

llTTENBEKO,  MAX 

Fallen  Star  (The)   4(!f> 

Rose-Time    348 

ioWAN,  HlLL 

Millions  for  the  Million    450 

Rorneo  to  Rag-time  286 

EAMAN,  OWEN 

At  the  Play  15,  34,  72,  90,  120,  l:,0,  210, 
220,  330,  350,  408,  426,  498 

Bachelor  Chambers   834 

Cable  to  Quito  (A) 474 

Conscience  of  Parliament  (The). ...  -  76 

Great  Twin  Terrors  (The) 88 

How  to  save  England  on  the  cheap  154 

'In  Mentoriam  (Captain  Scott)    142 

"  London  Look  "  (The) 214 

Love  and  the  Militants    .' 96 

Love  in  Absence 234 


SEAMAN-,  OWKJT. 

Marconi  Kchoes 

Penance 

Premier  and  the  Bird  (The). . .  2f 

Sitting  Bard  (The) 45 

Thoughts  on  Spring  Trouserings  .  291 

To  a  very  Ordinary  Man 43. 

To  Richard,  a  Minor  Poet  :;:, 

Two  on  the  Adriatic 374 

SiiAi'.n.ET,  HUGO. 

"  O  you  Mortal  Engines  "    417 

SMITH,  BERTRAM 

Adjustments    24$ 

Cricket  Reform  ]  21' 


How  to  Look  on 

Neigh  hours 

On    the   Beauty   of    Larini;    Two 

Dentists 270 

Origins 

Speeding  Up    407 

Water  Hight  (Thn) )6i) 

Weapon  (A) 

SYKES,  A.  A. 

How  to  Celebrate  St.  George's  Day  327 

Insurance  against  Suffragettes 165 

Our  Booming  Trade  82 

Reflected  Glory  119 

SYMNS,  J.  M. 

Chemist's  Dream  (The) 270 

Mem-Sahib  (The)    4M 

TOMBS,  J.  S.  M. 

Art  and  Utility  159 

Consummation    ]  oo 

Dispassionate  Conversation  (A).        273 

Fairy  Tale  (A) 057 

Home  Lies    220 

In  a  City  Restaurant    91 

In  my  Album 108 

March  of  Progress  (The) 14 

Object-Lesson  (The) 307 

Kunner-up (The) r,02 

Yvonne 207 

WHITE,  E.  P. 

Memoir  of  a  Celebrated  Joke r,~,7 

WHITE,  R.  F. 

Another  Pathetic  Fallacy   14-2 

Compensation  at  Last ::s-j 

Consummation   Ml 

I  Ast  and  Lost :;'.', 

Not  Cricket 354 

Our  Festal  Anniversaries    326 

Sportsman  (The) 218 

Stronger  Links  (The)    288 

Taking  the  Plunge '. 446 

W0DEHOUSE,  P.  G. 
Charivaria  115, 133, 103, 173,  213,  233, 235 


Pictures  and  Sketches. 


ALLINSON,  G.  W 87 

ARMOUR,  G.  D. . .  17,  35,  73,  93,  113,  131,  151, 

197,  229,  249,  271,  289,  309,  327,  349,  369, 

391,  427,  407,  481 

ARTHUR,  EDWIN 138 

BAUMER,  LEWIS  9,  46,  83,  103,  123,  177,  221, 

261,  282,  297,  317,  338,  357,  405,  429,  442, 

4G2,  482,  502 

BAYNES,  PHILIP  ....    100,  147,  167,  178,  387 

BELCHER,  GEOBGE  . .    281,  321,  341,  409,  447 

BIRD,  W.    .  .109,  198,  233,  253,  278,  298,  332, 

372,  386,  413,  431,  473,  487 

BLAIKLEY,  ERNEST 478 

CHENEY,  LEO  437 

COBB,  Miss  KUTH 378 

FKASER,  P 158,  398,  452,  492 

GRAVE,  CHARLES.  .81,  165,  206,  213,  248,  293, 
353,  392,  418,  449,  453,  498 

HARRISON,  CHARLES  54,  150,  311,  411 

HART,  FRANK  101 

HASELDEN,  W.  K.  84,  72,  90,  120,  121,  150, 

210,  226,  268,  288,  330,  350,  408,  426,  448,  498 

HORNE,  A.  E 159,  179,  318 

JENNIS,  G.  C 141,  241,  479 

KING,  GUNNING  43,  71,  129,  379 

LEWIS,  F.  G 258,  273,  438 

MACPHERSON,  D 13 

MACWILSON,  J 393 

MILLS,  A.  WALLIS  5,  33,  51,  64,  89,  104,  121, 

149,  161,  189,  199,  231,  239,  267,  301,  329, 

351,  361,  389,  397,  421,  439,  489 

MORROW,  GEORGF.   ..    18,  36,  56,  74,  94,  114, 

132,  152,  172,  192,  212,  232,  252,  269,  279, 


MORROW,  GEORGE  . .  292,  305,  300,  312,  319, 

325,  326,  345,  346,  352,  358,  365,  366,  381, 

385,  401,  412,  417,  432,  445,  446,  465,  466, 

472,  485,  486,  491,  505,  506,  508 

NORRIS,  ARTHUR  . .  14,  19,  153,  166,  186,  247, 

459 

PARTRIDGE,  BERNARD 1 

PEARS,  CHARLES 57,  227,  407,  461 

PRANCE,  BERTRAM  218 

RAVEN-HILL,  L.  15,  16,  66,  84,  124,  142,  181, 
202,  242,  262,  272,  302,  331,  342,  382,  402, 

425,  510 

REYNOLDS,  FRANK   . .  10,  23,  91,  99,  115,  207, 
219,  277,  299,  339,  377,  419 

ROUNTREE,  HARRY 251,  259 

SHEPARD,  E.  H.   ..  15,  27,  111,  119,  139,  182, 

205,  217,  257,  371,  451,  458,  501 

SHEPPERSON,  C.  A.  28,  61,  162,  185,  222,  237, 

322,  337,  362,  42-2,  497 

SHORE,  E.  W 193 

SIMMONS,  GRAHAM  75,  333 

SMITH,  A.  T 25,  41,  63,  79,  169,  187,  287, 

313,  367,  433,  471 

STAMPA,  G.  L.  .  .55,  05,  80,  95,  171,  191,  211, 
238,  291,  307,  347,  359,  399 

STYCHE,  FRANK    133 

THORPE,  J.  H 45,  469 

TOWNSF.ND,  F.  H.        7,  31,  32,  49,  50,  69,  70, 

87,  88,   107,   108,   127,  128,   137,   145,  146, 

157,  173,  201,  225,  245,  265,  266,  285,  286, 

441,  457,  477,  499 

WATTS,  ARTHUR  209,  373 

WHITE,  M.  H 400 


,   OK   THE    IjONIXJN    1_IIAKIYAK1,    IJBUiUIl&K    31,    "JTJ. 


PUNCH 

Vol.   CXLV. 
JULY— DECEMBER,    1913. 


PUNCH,  oi!  THE  LONDON  CIIAKIVAKI,  DUIMI-.IK  31,   1913- 


LONDON: 
PUBLISHED    AT    THE    OFFICE,    10,    BOUVERIE    STREET, 


AND  SOLD  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 
19I3- 


,  CK  TME  LONDON  OMRIVMI,  UsctatfK  37,  ioi> 


Bradtury,  Agnew  &  Co.,  Ltd.. 

Printers, 
London  and  TonbrMge. 


JLT.Y  2,  I'll:!.] 


ITXCIF,   OR   THK   LONDON   CHAKIVABI. 


COSMETICS:     A    QUESTION    OF    TASTE. 


HE  read  his  Daily  Mail,  as  I  and  you, 

And  scanned  the  question  of  the  moot  cosmetic; 

lie  lent  a  patient  ear  to  every  view, 
The  ethic,  the  eugenic,  the  aesthetic  ; 

The  revelations  shocked  him,  for,  in  truth, 

He  was  a  prim  variety  of  youth. 

The  solemn  jeremiads  of  "  M.D." 

And  "  Anxious  Mother  "  had  his  approbation  ; 
The  sage  that  kept  his  anonymity 

Beneath  the  veil  of  "  Nature  for  the  Nation" 
Our  hero  liked.     He  frankly  could  not  hic^e 
His  scorn  of  those  that  took  the  other  side. 


His  sense  of  rectitude  could  never  brook 
The  shameless  pleas  of  unrepentant  ladies ; 

To  him,  they  had  a  Babylonish  look ; 

He  saw  the  cloven  hoof,  and  thought  of  Hades ; 

Yet  the  conclusion  forced  upon  his  wit 

Was  this,  that  eveiy  woman  's  doing  it. 

"  But  no,"  he  cried,  "  t:co  rosy  cheeks  at  least 

Down  to  the  paint-pot's  lure  have  never  knuckled ! 

TiL'o  ruby  lips  their  charm  have  ne'er  increased 
With  specious  art ! "  His  love  o'erheard,  and  chuckled. 

She  winked  a  roguish  eye,  albeit  chaste, 

And  said,  "  Dear  boy !  Ho  has  no  sense  of  taste !  " 


'UNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


THE  LIBERAL  CLUB  NEXT  DOOR. 

"  There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night." 

[If  these  lines  eont.iiu  an  unjust  reflection 

on  his  neighbours  the  poet  in\  it.es  some  better 

explanation   of    the    noises   proceeding   from 

their    kitchen    in    the   small    hours    of    the 

morning.] 

I  HAVE  a  flat,  a  pleasant  ilat, 

Whose  windows  look  with  eyes  serene 
Across  a  flowery  garden  at 

The  storied  Thames  ;  and,  in  between, 
The  Council's  trams  in  steady  flight 
Humble  all  day  and  half  the  night. 

Not  these  annoy  me  ;  I  ignore 
The  dissipated  hours  they  keep ; 

Indeed,  their  rather  soothing  roar 
Might  rock  a  happier  frame  to  sleep, 

Like  to  the  surf  of  thundering  seas 

That  pound  upon  the  Hebrides. 

But  on  the  other  side  my  bed 

Stands  where  a  ruder  clamour  gains 

Access  to  my  recumbent  head 

And  works  like  madness  on  my  brains, 

Coming  from  kitchens  which  supply 

A  Liberal  Caravanserai. 

Fresh  from  the  Lobby's  midnight  hum 
(Leaving   the  Welsh  Church  disen- 
dowed) 

I  picture  how  these  revellers  come 
And  give  their  orders  very  loud — 

Welsh  Earebit,  and  a  lager  beer, 

And  other  strange  nocturnal  cheer. 

And  still  they  feast  till  nearly  morn  ; 

From  hour  to  hour,  from  chime  to 

chime, 
The  chef  grows  wearier,  more  forlorn, 

With  toasting  cheeses  all  the  time ; 
And  I  must  toss  about  and  tear 
The  remnants  of  my  Tory  hair. 

This  happens  when  the  Party's  health 
Is  but  piano  (thanks  to  GEORGE)  ; 

But  what,  I  ask,  will  be  the  wealth 
Of  Cymric  suppers  they  will  gorge 

When  these  Marconi  scandals  wane- 

And  LLOYD  becomes  himself  again  ? 

Mt  an  while  I  seek  the  PREMIER'S  ear. 

Sometimes  I  think  he  seems  to  lack 
A  proper  knowledge,  full  and  clear, 

Of  what  goes  on  behind  his  back  ; 
So,  for  his  sake — as  well  as  mine — 
I  take  this  frank  and  open  line. 

0.  S. 

"Lost  on   31st    May,    between    Elie   am 
Kilconquhar,     smooth-haired     Pox     Terrier 
Collar  round  nook." — East  of  Fife  Record. 
And  tail  at  latter  end  of  body. 


"  During  lunch  time  Bird  took  four  for  54.' 
Edinburgh  Evening  Dispatch. 

And  yet   we  grudge   these   strenuous 
athletes  their  tea  interval. 


Suggested  name  for  a  certain  "rare 
and  refreshing  fruit  " — the  Medlar. 


THE    COMPROMISE    FINE. 

i. 

'.  Fordham,  Supervisor  of  Customs 
and  Excise,  to  Murdoch  McGavin, 
3  Pointings  Avenue,  Glasgow,  N.  W. 

3rd  April,  191-. 

I  am  directed  by  the  Commissioners 
of  Customs  and  Excise  to  acquaint  you 
ihat  they  have  ordered  legal  proceedings 
;o  be  instituted  against  you  for  KEEPING 
^  DOG  WITHOUT  A  LICENCE.  They  have 
jowever  authorised  me  to  state  that,  if 
you  do  not  disclaim  liability,  they  are 
prepared,  having  regard  to  all  the  cir- 
iumstances,  and  in  virtue  of  the  powers 
given  them  by  Sect.  35  (1)  of  the  Inland 
Revenue  Regulation  Act,  1890,  to  stay- 
proceedings  provided  you  pay  forthwith 
ihe  sum  of  FIVE  SHILLINGS.  I  shall 
therefore  refrain  from  taking  further 
steps  for  ten  days  from  the  date  of  this 
etter  so  as  to  give  you  the  opportunity 
of  paying  the  above  amount.  If  you 
avail  yourself  of  that  alternative,  the 
amount  should  be  paid  or  remitted  to 
ME  within  the  time  named. 

ii. 

Murdoch  McGavin  to  R.  Fordham. 
1th  April,  191-. 

I  have  your  favour  of  3rd  inst.  in- 
dicting me  for  keeping  a  dog  without  a 
licence,  and  suggesting  that  I  should 
pay  .a  fine  of  5s.  to  stay  further  pro- 
ceedings. It  is  true  that  I  overlooked 
this  matter  till  17th  March,  when  you 
sent  me  an  official  inquiry.  I  then 
took  out  a  licence  and  intimated  the 
fact  to  you.  I  can  only  assume  that 
the  charge  you  make  refers  to  the  period 
between  2nd  Jan.  and  17th  March. 
But  as  the  alleged  offence  must  be 
purely  a  technical  one  I  am  at  a  loss 
to  understand  why  you  should  threaten 
me  with  legal  proceedings.  It  is 
perhaps  not  ,  a.  wholly  irrelevant  fact 
that  my  dog  died  on  27th-  March,  and 
that  I  shall  therefore  be  guilty  of  keeping 
a  licence  without  a  dog  for  fully  three- 
quarters  of  the  current  year.  If  you 
think  it  necessary  torgo  any  further  in 
this  matter,  I  shall .  be  glad  to  be 
favoured  with  your  observations  or 
these  facts. 

P.S. — If  I  am  entitled  to  a  rebate  for 
the  unexpired  period  of  my  licence 
perhaps  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  refer 
me  to  the  proper  form. 

in. 

R.  Fordham  to  Murdoch  McGavin. 
10th  April,  191-. 

In  reply  to  your  letter  of  7th  April, '. 
may  say  that  there  appears  to  be  n 
doubt  that  an  offence  was  committed 
That  being  so,  the  Board  are  acting 
leniently  in  giving  you  the  option  o 
paying  the  Compromise  Fine. 


IV. 

Murdoch  McGavin  to  R.  Fordham. 
llth  April,  191-. 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  letter  of 
esterday,  and  note  that  you  are  now 
n  some  doubt  whether  an  offence  has 
n  committed.  You  say  "  there 
ippears  to  be  no  doubt,"  which  shows 
hat  there  is  room  for  considerable 
[ubiety.  In  these  circumstances  I  am 
sorry  I  cannot  agree  with  you  in  your 
pinion  that  the  Board  is  treating  me 
eniently.  In  my  opinion  the  Board  is 
hreatening  purely  vexatious  pro- 
ceedings against  a  regular  taxpayer, 
ind  the  suggestion  of  a  Compromise 
?ine  seems  to  come  perilously  near 
:ompounding  an  alleged  felony.  You 
lave  omitted  to  refer  me  to  the  proper 
orm  of  application  for  rebate  on  the 
jnexpired  period  of  dog  licence,  and  I 
shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  kindly  do 
;his  within  ten  days  of  the  date  hereof. 
\ly  wife  wishes  me  to  add  that  she 
considers  it  heartless  on  the  part  of 
your  Board  to  write  as  you  have  ione 
so  soon  after  the  death  of  poor  Ponto. 

v. 

R.  Fordham  to  Murdoch  McGavin. 
13th  April,  191-. 

I  have  to  refer  you  to  my  letter  of 
LOth  April,  advising  you  that,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Board,  an  offence  has 

en  committed.  The  period  allowed 
'or  payment  of  the  Compromise  Fine 
:ias  now  expired,  but  the  Board  will 
accept  the  tine  if  sent  .within  five  days 
'rorn  the  date  hereof. 

VI. 

Murdoch  McGavin  to  R.  Fordham. 
16th  April,  191-. 

I  have  your  letter  of  13th  April  and 
note  contents.  I  must  remind  you 
that  you  have  neglected,  in  spite  of  two 
inquiries,  to  refer  me  to  the  proper 
form  of  application  for  rebate  on  unex- 
pired period  of  dog  licence.  This  is  not 
in  keeping  with  the  usual  courtesy  of 
your  Department.  If  I  am  entitled  to 
repayment  there  would  be  a  small 
balance  in  my  favour,  even  if  the 
Compromise  Fine  were  legally  exigible, 
as  I  am  advised  that  it  is  not.  I  make 
out  that  the  difference  between  three- 
fourths  of  7s.  6(7.  and  5s.  amounts  to  l^d. 
This  is,  of  course,  without  prejudice,  and 
is  not  to  be  founded  upon  by  your  Board 
as  an  admission  by  me  of  the  technical 
offence  you  allege.  I  shall  he  glad  to 
hear  from  you  at  your  convenience. 

VII. 

R.  Fordham  to  Murdoch  McGavin. 
nth  April,  191-. 

In  reply  to  your  inquiry  of  yesterday 
I  have  to  state  that  no  rebate  can  bo 
allowed  in  respect  of  any  dog-licenc 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  2,  1913. 


LANSDOWNE    ENTERS    THE    LISTS. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


"NOW  ItEIlE,   SlB,   FOB  EIGHTEEN-AND-SIX  \VE   HAVE  AN  INFALLIBLE " 

"No,  THANKS;    NONE  OP  YOITB  IIAIR-BESTOBEBS."  "THEN  YOUB  BALDNESS  BE  on  TOUB  OWN  HEAD,  Sm." 


licence  permits  you  to  keep  one  dog 
at  iiny  time  during  its  currency.  You 
h:i\r  the  recourse  of  getting  another 
flog. 

VIII. 

Ifttnloch  McGavin  to  7?.  FordJiam. 
'22nd  April,  191-. 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  reply 
to  my  inquiry,  and  am  surprised  to 
li'uru  that  no  rebate  is  allowed  in  re- 
spect of  an  unexpired  dog  licence.  I 
do  not  quite  understand  your  reference 
to  the  currency  of  the  dog.  I  should 
have, thought  that  the  currency  of  the 
dog  ceased  with  its  death.  On  this 
point  my  wife  wishes  me  to  say  that 
*1 10  would  never  think  of  replacing 
poor  1'onto  within  a  year  of  his  demise, 
:ind  si  10  is  surprised  that  anyone  should 
such  a  reproach  to  his  memory. 

IX. 

.  Fordham  to  Murdoch  McGavin. 
'23rd  April,  191-. 
I  receive  remittance  of  FIVE 
SHILLINGS  by  return  of  post   I   shall 
understand   that   you   disclaim    liabil- 
ity, in  which  case  proceedings  will  be 
instituted  forthwith. 


x. 

Murdoch  McGavin  to  B.  FordJiam. 
6th  May,  191-. 

The  summons  with  which  you  threat- 
ened me  on  23rd  April,  and  which 
should  have  been  delivered  about  26th, 
has  never  arrived.  As  a  regular  tax- 
.payer  I  musfc  protest  against  your 
dilatory  way  of  conducting  the  business 
of  your  Department. 

XI. 

The  Same  to  the  Same. 

15th  May,  191-. 

I  am  still  awaiting  the  summons 
which  you  promised  me  would  be 
delivered  immediately  after  your  letter 
of  23rd  April.  As  I  am  most  anxious 
to  have  a  public  opportunity  of  clearing 
my  character  of  the.  unfounded  slander 
which  you  have  laid  upon  it,  I  must 
insist  upon  receiving  the  summons 
within  ten  days  of  tho  date  hereof.  In 
the  event  of  your  failure  to  comply 
with  this  request,  I  shall  be  forced  to 
send  a  copy  of  this  correspondence  to 
Sir  Francis  Tribble,  Somerset  House, 
and  also  to  The  Times. 


XII. 

The  Same  to  the  Same. 

26th  May,  191-. 

The  ten  days'  grace  mentioned  in 
my  letter  of  15th  May  having  now 
elapsed,  I  must  request  you  to  forward 
a  summons  by  return  of  post.  If  yon 
fail  to  do  so,  I  shall  follow  the  course 
indicated  in  my  letter,  and  thereafter 
institute  legal  proceedings  for  defama- 
tion of  character. 

XIII. 

B.  FordJiam  to  Murdoch  McGavin. 
27th  May,  191-. 

The  Board  instruct  me  to  acquaint 
you  that,  in  the  special  circumstances 
of  your  case,  they  do  not  propose  to 
take  any  further  action.  I  have  to  add 
that  no  reflection  on  your  character 
lias  been  intended  or  could  be  implied. 

XIV. 

Murdoch  McGavin  to  B.  Fordham. 
29th  May,  191-. 

I  accept  your  apology  and,  in  the 
special  circumstances  of  your  case,  have 
instructed  my  lawyers  to  stay  proceed- 
ings. Kind  regards  to  your  Board. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


GUN-RUNNING. 

THE  children  of  the  Opposition 
Member  were  congregated  on  the  lawn 
preparatory  to  acting  their  original, 
topical,  pastoral  play,  entitled  The 
Gun-Runners.  Harold,  aged  11  and  a 
born  commander  of  men,  gave  his  final 
instructions. 

"Now,  you're  Sir  Edward  Carson, 
Reggie.  And,  Winnie,  you  're  Mr.  Red- 


mond.    When 
If    I'm    Mr. 


playing, 


I  'm    not 
Actresses 


m    Mr.    Redmond 
pouted   Winnie, 
are  like  that  sometimes. 

"  Oh  1  all  right,  then.  Reggie  '11  have 
to  be  Redmond." 

"  Not  me,"   said  Reggie   decidedly. 
"  I  'm  Carson,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

Stern  martinet  as  he  was,  there 
were  occasions  which  rendered  Harold 
susceptible  to  the 
noblest  impulses  of  self- 
sacrifice. 

"  Very  well,  then.  If 
you  're  such  a  couple  of 
kids,  I'll  be  Redmond," 
he  said.  "  Win,  you  can 
be  Keir  Hardie." 

"  Why,  what 's  he  got 
to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"Nothing  that  I 
know  of." 

"  Well,  why's  he  in 
it?" 

"  Look  here,  if  you  're 
going  to  be  so  beastly 
inquisitive,  I  won't  let 
you  play  at  all.  Who 
do  you  want  to  be,  any- 
way ?  " 

"  Lord  Roberts,"  said 
Winnie. 

"  I  don't  see  what — 
Oh  1  well,  I  daresay  we  can  work 
him  in  somehow.  Now  you  see  the 
summer-house  in  the  corner?  Well, 


contraband  articles.  Pointing  with 
incriminating  finger  at  the  suspicious 
object  the  Home-Ruler  cried,  "  What 
have  you  in  that  box,  Sir  Edward?  " 

"Rifles,"  replied  Sir  Edward,  with 
commendable  promptitude. 

"  Silly  little  as3.  You  don't  say 
'  Rifles ' ;  you  say  '  Bananas '  or  '  Pianos.' 
Anything  but  '  Rifles  '  1 " 

Then  he  repeated  in  the  imperious 
voice  that  suited  him  so  well,  "  What 
is  in  that  box,  Sir  Edward  ?  " 

"  Croquet  mallets.  You  know  they 
are !  " 

"  I  think  not,  Sir  Edward.  Kindly 
let  me  see  inside  that  case." 

"  Shan't,"  replied  the  learned  gentle- 
man stoutly. 

"  No,  don't  let  him,"  agreed  Lord 
Roberts,  with  warmth. 

"  I  would  remind  you,  Sir  Edward, 


PLAYWRIGHTS  IN  SEARCH  OP  NOVELTIES    GO  TO    CHINA   (SEE   THE   YELLOW 
JACKET).    THEY  MIGHT  GO  ALSO  TO  THE  SOUTH  SEA  ISLAND  OP  ALMINTO,  WHERE 

A   DRAMATIC  CRITIC  IS  ALWAYS  ON  THE   STAGE.       IT  IS   SAID  THAT  THE   HISTRIONIC 

ART  OP  ALMINTO  is  REMARKABLE  CHIEFLY  ron  ITS  RESTRAINT. 


that's  Italy,  where  the  rifles  come  from. 
This  is  England  in  the  middle  of  the 
lawn,  and  that's  Ulster  by  the  rockery. 
You  two  have  got  to  get  the  rifles  past 
me  and  land  them  in  Ulster.  See  ?  " 

"  Oh !  that 's  easy,"  said  Reggie. 

"  Is  it  ? "  replied  Mr.  Redmond, 
grimly.  "Are  you  ready?  Come  on, 


then."       At    which 
Roberts     and     Sir 
raced  madly  in  the 


command  Lord 
Edward  Carson 
direction  of  Italy 


and  began  to  stagger  heavily  back 
across  the  Continent  under  the  weight 
of  a  long  wooden  box.  Vainly  they 
tried  to  circumvent  Mr.  Redmond, 
sometimes  making  remarkable  circuits 
via  Norway  and  occasionally  dodging 
"  Out  of  Prance  into  Spain, 

Over  the  hills  and  back  again." 
At   last   they   found  themselves  up 
against  it  on  English  soil.     Mr.  Red- 
nond  had  actually  laid  hands  upon  the 


that  the  laws  of  this  country  expressly 
forbid—" 

What  promised  to  be  an  excellent 
sentence,  spoken  with  admirable  re-, 
straint,  was  here  brought  to  an  abrupt 
termination.  Paterfamilias  had  made 
a  leisurely  but  at  the  same  time 
dramatic  appearance  at  the  drawing- 
room  French  windows. 

It  was  a  mean  advantage,  but  for 
the  sake  of  the  cause  Sir  Edward 
felt  justified  in  using  the  vilest  strategy 
to  gain  his  end.  "Look!  There's 
Father !  "  he  shouted,  thereby  causing 
Mr.  Redmond  to  turn  quickly  and  for 
one  brief  second  to  forsake  his  respon- 
sibilities. The  second  was  enough  for 
Sir  Edward  and  Lord  Roberts.  Simul- 
taneously they  grabbed  the  case  of  rifles. 

"Come  on,  Bobsl"  shouted  Sir 
Edward.  "  Ulster  for  ever  1 "  And 
with  a  superhuman  effort  they  made 
all  speed  for  Ireland.  The  Grand  Coup 
was  so  sudden  and  so  effective  that, 
with  their  pursuer  still  yards  behind, 


they  succeeded  easily  in  dumping  their 
cargo  on  Ulster  territory. 

"  Well,  now  that  we  've  got  here, 
what  are  we  going  to  do  with  Red- 
mond ?  "  asked  Lord  Roberts. 

"  Tie  him  up  and  brain  him,"  replied 
the  other  bloodthirsty  conqueror. 

Meekly,  with  a  smile  that  tried  to 
look  sad  upon  his  proud  young  features, 
Mr.  Redmond  submitted  to  the  tying-up 
process.  That  done,  his  captors  pro- 
ceeded to  burst  open  the  case  and 
extract  a  hefty  croquet-mallet.  Sir 
Edward,  raising  this  on  high,  cast  a 
questioning  glance  at  Lord  Roberts. 
The  latter,  with  memories  of  a  certain 
lavish  cinema  display,  slowly  turned  her 
right  wrist  until  the  thumb  pointed  mer- 
cilessly downwards.  And  then,  just 
as  the  murderous  implement  was  about 
to  fall,  a  clarion  voice  caused  a  sudden 
stay  of  execution. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  the 
|  Father  of  the  players. 
'  "  I  Ve  been  watching 
you  all  the  time.  You're 
doing  it  entirely  wrong. 
In  the  first  place,  why 
drag  in  Lord  Roberts  ? 
Then  you  should  really 
remember  your  geo- 
graphy, Harold.  You 
seem  to  have  made  no 
allowances  for  the 
North  Sea  and  the  Irish 
Channel.  And  in  this 
connection  the  ex- 
cellence of  your  main 
idea  is  distressingly 
marred  by  the  reflection 
that  these  rifles  would 
never  travel  by  land 
at  all.  They  would 
be  shipped  direct  from 
Italy,  to  avoid  the  risk  of  confisca- 
tion attendant  upon  the  transport  of 
any  such  consignment  across  Europe 
and  England.  Then  to  turn  from  the 
practical  to  the  moral  side.  You  two 
victorious  invaders — are  you  going  to 
forget  that  you  are  Britons?  Would 
you  inflict  the  death  penalty  upon  Mr. 
Redmond  without  so  mucli  as  a  trial  ?  " 
A  look  of  uncertainty  passed  between 
Sir  Edward  and  Lord  Roberts.  For 
a  space  the  fate  of  Mr.  Redmond  hung 
in  the  balance,  until  that  gentleman 
himself  turned  the  scale  by  remarking 
none  too  politely,  "  Look  here,  Father! 
If  you  think  you  know  more  about 
this  business  than  we  do,  you  'd  better 
come  and  play  Redmond  yourself.  I  'm 
sick  of  the  part,  anyway.  Ah !  you 
don't  fancy  it  either.  Then  please 
allow  us  to  continue."  And,  expanding 
his  chest  as  fully  as  the  cruel  bonds 
would  allow,  he  looked  steadily  into 
the  eyes  of  his  arch-enemy,  and  said, 
"  Strike,  Carson  !  Erin  go  bragh  !  " 


2,  inn.] 


rrxrir,  ou  TIIK  LONDON-  (UIAUIVAIM. 


THE    CORRECT    ATMOSPHERE. 

'•Jtrsi  IN  TIME.     WE  "BE  OFF  TO  SEE  MY  KEW  ALPINE  BOEDER  AT  THE  TOP  OF  THE  GAP.DEN. 

Al.EC,    AND  JODEL  WHEN  YOU  'BE  BEADY." 


HITCH  ACSTIE  ox  BEHIND  YOU, 


THE    MARVEL    OF    IT. 

(A  Rhapsody  of  Subterranean  Travel.) 

OH,  not  the  seed  of  fire  I  praise 

In  busy  circuit  running  round, 
Whenas  by  labyrinthine  ways 

Each  morning  on  the  Underground 
I  journey — not  the  infernal  skill  and  not  the  force  profound ; 

Not  all  the  system  vast  and  strange 

Which  shoots  us  Citywards  like  peas, 
The  "  bullet  "  of  impetuous  range, 

The  lift,  the  oceanic  breeze  ; 

Let  mightier  bards  than  I  hold  forth  on  such  dashed  things 
as  these. 

To  simpler  phantasies  I  soar, 

A  homely  and  bucolic  theme : 
As  through  the  tunnelled  night  we  roar 

Of  flowery  pasture-lands  I  dream 
And  the  red  steers  of  Hereford  knee-deep  in  some  cool  stream. 

The  maze  of  this  mechanic  mole 

Affects  me  not  at  all.     I  spy 
The  stern-faced  ruminants  who  roll 

On  meadow  margents  of  the  Wye ; 
Theirs  is  the  praise  I  sing.     No  other  help  but  theirs  is  nigh. 

For  one  of  these  it  was,  I  think, 

A  stalwart  beast  of  splendid  thews, 
That  passed  to  death  from  that  low  brink 

Well  loved,  and  amaranthine  chews 

Of  the  lush  grasses,  and  the  wild  flowers  wet  with  pearled 
de\vs, 


And  gave  a  portion  of  his  strong, 

Ilis  undefeated  epidorm 
To  make  me  my  familiar  thong, 

Whereunto  like  a  dangled  worm 

Pendent  from  first  to  last — yet  still  in  that  strong  succour 
firm— 

Always  I  cling.     Nor  I  alone ; 

The  other  day  a  stoutish  chap 
Shared  in  my  labour  and  my  moan, 
Co-dancer  on  the  selfsame  strap ; 

Yet  still  the  tough  trape/e  availed ;   wo  plumped  on  no 
.     one's  lap. 

Small  wonder  then  that  I  should  think 

Fondly  on  this,  and  pay  no  heed 
To  larger  glories  of  the  "  link," 

Its  might,  its  magic  and  its  speed, 

But  boom   the  hide   of   England's   ox,    still    staunch    at 
England's  need!  EVOE. 


"Dalkey's  Island,  n  few  hundred  miles  from  the  mainland,  is  an 
ideal  spot  for  picnics." — Add.  in  "  Daily  Mail." 
Herbert  (to  his  u-ife,  who  is  undoing  the   hamper):    "No, 
dear,  I  will  not  go  back  for  the  mustard.     The  corkscrew 
last  week  was  different.     It  was  much  calmer  then." 


"  According  to  the  calendar  Saturday  was  the  longest  day  in  the 
year,  the  sun  rising  at  3.26  a.m.  and  setting  at  8.37  p.m.  For  a 
day  or  two  there  will  be  no  apparent  difference  in  the  length  of  the 
days,  but  of  course  the  change  will  become  more  marked  with  tho 
progress  of  time." — Belfast  News  Letter. 

,  Indeed,  as  wo  get  near  to  Christmas  it  should  be  quite 
noticeable. 


6 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


LORDS    TEMPORAL. 

WE  have  eight  clocks,  called  after 
the  kind  psople  who  gave  them  to 
us.  Let  me  introduce  you  :  William, 
Ivlward,  Muriel,  Enid,  Alphonse,  Percy, 
Henrietta  and  John— a  large  family. 

"  But  how  convenient,"  said  Celia. 
"  Exactly  one  for  each  room." 

"Or  two  in  each  corner  of  the 
drawing-room.  I  don't  suggest  it;  I 
just  throw  out  the  idea." 

"  Which  is  rejected.  How  shall  we 
arrange  which  goes  into  which  room? 
Let 's  pick  up.  I  take  William  for  the 
drawing-room ;  you  take  John  for  your 
work-room  ;  I  take — 

"Not   John,"   I  said  gently.     John 

ig John     overdoes     it     a     trifle. 

There  is  too  much  of  John;  and  he 
exposes  his  inside — which  is  not  quite 
nice. 

"  Well,  whichever  you  like.  Come 
on,  let's  begin.  William." 

As  it  happened,  I  particularly  wanted 
William.  He  has  an  absolutely  noise- 
less tick,  such  as  is  suitable  to  a  room 
in  which  work  is  to  be  done.  I 
explained  this  to  Celia. 

"  What  you  want  for  the  drawing- 
room,"  I  went  on,  "  is  a  clock  which 
ticks  ostentatiously,  so  that  your 
visitors  may  be  reminded  of  the  flight 
of  time.  Edward  is  a  very  loud 
breather.  No  guest  could  fail  to  notice 
Edward." 

"  William,"  said  Celia  firmly. 

"William  has  a  very  delicate  in- 
terior," I  pleaded.  "  You  could  never 
attend  to  him  properly.  I  have  been 
thinking  of  William  ever  since  we  had 
him,  and  I  feel  that  I  understand  his 
case." 

"Very  well,"  said  Celia,  with  sud- 
den generosity  ;  "  Edward.  You  have 
William ;  I  have  Alphonse  for  the 
dining  -  room ;  you  have  John  for 
your  bedroom  ;  I  have  Enid  for  mine  ; 
you — 

"  Not  John,"  I  said  gently.  To  be 
frank,  John  is  improper. 

"  Well,  Percy,  then." 

"  Yes,  Percy.  He  is  young  and  fair. 
He  shall  sit  on  the  chest-of-drawers  and 
sing  to  my  sock-suspenders." 

"  Then  Henrietta  had  better  go  in 
the  spare-room,  and  Muriel  in  Jane's." 

"  Muriel  is  much  too  good  for  Jane," 
I  protested.  "  Besides,  a  servant  wants 
an  alarm  clock  to  get  her  up  in  the 
morning." 

"  You  forget  that  Muriel  cuckoos. 
At  six  o'clock  she  will  cuckoo  exactly 
six  times,  and  at  the  sixth  '  oo '  Jane 
brisks  out  of  bed." 

I  still  felt  a  little  doubtful,  because 
the  early  morning  is  a  bad  time  for 
counting  cuckoos,  and  I  didn't  see  why 
Jane  shouldn't  brisk  out  at  the  seventh 


oo  "  by  mistake  one  day.  However, 
Jane  is  in  Celia's  department,  and  if 
Celia  was  satisfied  I  was.  Besides,  the 
only  other  place  for  Muriel  was  the 
bathroom ;  and  there  is  something 
about  a  cuckoo-clock  in  a  bathroom 
which — well,  one  wants  to  be  educated 
up  to  it. 

"And  that,"  said  Celia  gladly,  "leaves 
the  kitchen  for  John."  John,  as  I  think 
I  have  said,  displays  his  inside  in  a 
lamentable  way.  There  is  too  much  of 
John. 

"If  Jane  doesn't  mind,"  I  added. 
"  She  may  have  been  strictly  brought 
up." 

"  She  '11  love  him.  John  lacks  reserve, 
but  he  is  a  good  time-keeper." 

And  so  our  eight  friends  were  settled. 
But,  alas,  not  for  long.  Our  discussion 
had  taken  place  on  the  eve  of  Jane's 
arrival ;  and  when  she  turned  up  next 
day  she  brought  with  her,  to  our  horror, 
a  clock  of  her  own — called,  I  think, 
Mother.  At  any  rate,  she  was  fond  of 
it  and  refused  to  throw  it  away. 

"  And  it 's  got  an  alarm,  so  it  goes 
in  her  bedroom,"  said  Celia,  "  and 
Muriel  goes  into  the  kitchen.  Jane 
comes  from  the  country,  and  the  cuckoo 
reminds  her  of  home.  That  still  leaves 
John  eating  his  head  off." 

"  And,  moreover,  showing  people  what 
happens  to  it,"  I  addedseverely.  (I  think 
I  have  already  mentioned  John's  foible.) 

"  Well,  there 's  only  one  thing  for 
it;  he  must  go  under  the  spare-room 
bed." 

I  tried  to  imagine  John  under  the 
spare-room  bed. 

"  Suppose,"  I  said,  "  we  had  a  nervous 
visitor  .  .  .  and  she  looked  under  the 
bed  before  getting  into  it  ...  and  saw 
John  ...  It  is  a  terrible  thought, 
Celia." 

However,  that  is  where  he  is.  It  is 
a  lonely  life  for  him,  but  we  shall  wind 
him  up  every  week,  and  he  will  think 
that  he  is  being  of  service  to  us.  In- 
deed, he  probably  imagines  that  our 
guests  prefer  to  sleep  under  the  bed. 

Now,  with  John  at  last  arranged  for, 
our  family  should  have  been  happy ; 
but  three  days  ago  I  discovered  that  it 
was  William  who  was  going  to  be  the 
real  trouble.  To  think  of  William,  the 
pride  of  the  flock,  betraying  us ! 

As  you  may  remember,  William  lives 
with  me.  He  presides  over  the  room 
we  call  "the  library"  to  visitors  and 
"  the  master's  room  "  to  Jane.  He 
smiles  at  me  when  I  work.  Ordinarily, 
when  I  want  to  know  the  time,  I  look 
at  my  watch  ;  but  the  other  morning  I 
happened  to  glance  at  William.  He 
said  "  twenty  minutes  past  seven."  As 
I  am  never  at  work  as  early  as  that, 
and  as  my  watch  said  eleven-thirty, 
I  guessed  at  once  that  William  had 


.topped.  In  the  evening — having  by 
.hat  time  found  the  key — I  went  to 
wind  him  up.  To  my  surprise  he  snid 
"  six-twenty-five."  I  put  my  ear  to 
Iris  chest  and  heard  his  gentle  breath- 
ing. He  was  alive  and  going  well. 
With  a  murmured  apology  I  set  him 
to  the  right  time  ....  and  by  the 
morning  he  was  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  fast. 

Unlike  John,  William  is  reticent  to  a 
degree.  With  great  difficulty  I  found 
my  way  to  his  insides,  and  then  found 
that  he  had  practically  none  to  speak 
of  at  all.  Certainly  he  had  no  regulator. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  I  asked  Celia. 

"  Leave  him.  And  then,  when  you 
bring  your  guests  in  for  a  smoke,  you 
can  say,  '  Oh,  don't  go  yet ;  this  clock 
is  five  hours  and  twenty-three  minutes 
fast.' " 

"  Or  six  hours  and  thirty-seven  min- 
utes slow.  I  wonder  which  would 
sound  better.  Anyhow,  he  is  much  too 
beautiful  to  go  under  a  bed." 

So  we  are  leaving  him.  And  when 
I  am  in  the  mood  for  beauty  I  look  at 
William's  mahogany  sides  and  am 
soothed  into  slumber  again  .  .  .  and 
when  I  want  to  adjust  my  watch 
(which  always  loses  a  little),  I  creep 
under  the  spare-room  bed  and  consult 
John.  John  alone  of  all  our  family 
keeps  the  correct  time,  and  it  is  a  pity 
that  he  alone  must  live  in  retirement. 

A.  A.  M. 


ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 
UPS  AND  DOWNS. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  towards  the  end 
of  June  the  birds  gathered  together  to 
compare  notes  as  to  the  nesting  season. 
It  is  a  regular  habit — a  kind  of  stock- 
taking. 

"  And  what  has  been  your  luck  ?  " 
the  owl  asked  the  plover. 

"  Half  -  and  -  half,"  said  the  plover. 
"My  first  clutch  of  eggs  —  beauties 
they  were,  too — were  found  by  a  farm 
boy,  and  within  a  couple  of  days  t'--.8y 
were  in  the  oesophagus  of  a  pretty 
actress  at  thQ  Savoy,  at  one  -  and  -  six 
a-piece ;  but  I  need  hardly  say,"  added 
the  plover  with  a  wink,  "that  it  was 
not  the  little  lady  herself  who  paid  for 
them. 

"  So  I  laid  again,"  the  plover  con- 
tinued, "  and  this  time  we  pulled 
through;  and  this  very  morning  I've 
been  giving  my  family  a  lesson  in 
taking  cover.  The  difficulty  is  to  make 
them  keep  their  silly  little  beaks  shut 
when  they  're  in  danger :  they  will  cheep 
so,  and  that,  of  course,  gives  the  show 
away.  Still,  chicks  will  be  chicks,  you 
know." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  owl; 
"but  years  will  put  that  right  only 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


HINTS    TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW    TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

V.  DlNE  AT  SMAUT  RESTAURANTS  AND  FORGET  ALL  YOU  EVER  LEARNT  OP  TABLE  MANNERS. 


too  successfully ; "  and  both  birds 
sighed. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  nightingale  to  the 
woodpecker,  "  I  managed  capitally.  I 
had  a  wonderful  season.  Every  night 
people  came  to  hear  me  sing ;  CARUSO 
and  MELBA  couldn't  have  more  devoted 
audiences.  We  brought  up  a  healthy 
family,  too,  with  strong  musical  ten- 
dencies. In  fact,  it  wasn't  till  yesterday 
that  anything  went  wrong;  and  that 
wasn't  exactly  a  calamity,  although  it 
hurt  me  quite  a  little  bit." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  woodpecker. 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  the  night- 
ingale. "  It  was  like  this :  I  was  in 
the  hedge  just  as  that  nico  lady  at  the 
Grange  came  along  with  her  little  girl, 
and  tho  little  girl  saw  me  and,  as 
children  always  do — you  've  all  heard 
them  time  and  again  —  asked  the 
mother  what  that  pretty  brown  bird 
was  called.  Now  this,  you  must  under- 
stand, is  the  lady  who  has  been  leaning 
out  of  her  window  every  night  all 
through  June  just  to  hear  me  sing; 
but  what  do  you  think  she  said  to  the 
little  girl  in  reply  ?  •  That  brown  bird, 
darling  ?  That 's  only  a  sparrow.'  " 

"You've  been  as  immoral  as  usual, 
I  suppose?"  said  the  thrush  to  tho 
cuckoo. 


"  Quite,"  said  the  cuckoo,  "  if  by 
immorality  you  mean  taking  furnished 
lodgings  for  my  family  instead  of  going 
in  for  building  and  small  ownership, 
like  you." 

"  That  's  not  wholly  what  I  meant," 
said  the  thrush.  "  There 's  such  a  thing 
as  taking  furnished  apartments  and 
paying  for  them,  and  such  a  thing  as 
depositing  your  family  there  and  never 
showing  up  again." 

"  Still,"  said  the  cuckoo,  "  it 's  a  very 
small  family— only  one.  Smaller  even 
than  a  French  family." 

"I  wish,  all  the  same,"  said  the 
thrush,  "  you  'd  tell  me  why  you  are  so 
averse  from  building." 

"  I  don't  exactly  know,"  said  the 
cuckoo,  "but  I  think  it's  fastidiousness. 
I  never  can  find  a  site  to  suit  me. 
Either  there 's  no  view,  or  the  water 's 
bad,  or  I  dislike  the  neighbours ;  try 
as  I  will,  I  never  can  settle.  So  there 
you  are  1 " 

"  And  who,  may  I  ask,"  said  the 
thrush,  "  has  had  the  honour  of  foster- 
mothering  your  illustrious  offspring 
this  season  ?  " 

"  Tho  nuthatch,"  said   the   cuckoo ; 

"  and  she  wasn't  half  disagreeable  about 

it  either.  While  as  for  her  own  children, 

j  the  little  pigs,  they  couldn't  have  taken 


it  with  less  philosophy.  Grumbled 
day  and  night.  My  poor  boy  was  jolly 
glad  when  he  was  fledged,  I  can  tell 
you." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with 
him  ?  "  the  thrush  asked. 

"  I  haven't  made  up  my  mind,"  said 
the  cuckoo.  "  What  do  you  advise  ?  " 

"  Apprentice  him  to  a  builder,"  said 
the  thrush  as  he  f!ew  away. 


Final. 

"  Mrs.  A.  P.  Payne,  General  Hospital,  will 
not  be  at  home  to-day,  owing  to  her  absence 
from  home."— Brisbane  Courier. 


"THE  MINISTER'S  WIFE. 

By  One  of  Them." 

From  list  of  contents  of  "  Life  and  Work." 
A  Mormon  minister,  we  trust. 


' '  Tho   bridal  pair  motored  to  the  station 
en  route  for  Hubertusstoch,  where  the  honey- 
moon will   bo    spent,  cheered  by  enormous 
crowds." — Cape  Times. 
Not  our  idea  of  a  honeymoon. 

"Stevens,  who  is  only  twelve  years  old, 
has  now  played  four  3-figure  innings  three 
of  which  were  centuries,  for  his  school." 

Hampstead  Advertiser. 

Possibly  the  remaining  effort  consisted 
of  three  singles. 


10 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


CHARIVARIA. 

As  a  result  of  the  slowness  of  the 
Government  in  appointing  a  Poet; 
Laureate,  we  are  still  without  an 
oilicial  Marconi  poem  resording  ade- 
quately the  famous  victory  of  the 
Government.  ...  ... 


"  Lord  Mi'iiiiAY  must  he  very  thick- 
skinned,"  remarked  a  Tory  the  other 
day.  As  a  matter  of  fact  we  helieve  he 
now  lias  an  oil  skin. 

The  improvement  of  the  road  exits 
from  London  was  foreshadowed  by  Mr. 
LLOYD  GEORGE  at  the  first  sitting  of 
the  International  Eoad  Congress.  It 
is  hoped  that  this  may  make  the 
Government  less  nervous  about  going 
to  the  Country. 


tendency   lias   been   of  late   to   get   a 
better  class  of  prisoner  there. 

"Hen"  parties,  Tlu  F.ri'nni.j  Xi-irs 
tells  us,  were  a  feature  of  Ascot  Sunday 
on  the  river  this  year.  Fortunately 
there  seems  to  have  been  no  accident 
attributable  to  these  boats  with  no  cox. 


Mr.  HARRY  LAUDKK  preached  last 
I  week  at  the  Castle  Green  Congrega- 
tional Chapel,  Bristol.  He  appears  to 
have  been  the  greatest  success,  and  we 
can  picture  the  sacred  edifice  ringing 
again  and  again  with  merry  laughter. 

In  his  speech  at  the  annual  dinner 
of  the  Associated  Booksellers,  Mr.  HALL 
CAINE,  in  referring  to  the  sevenpsnny 
reprints,  pointed  out  that  our  publishers 


NICHOLSON  once  wrote  a  novel  entitled 
The  Port  oj  Missing  Men. 

No,  my  child,  the  Omnibus  Box  at 
the  Opera  House  is  not  the  placu  where 
the  conductor  sits. 

•'.'•  * 

The  art  of  repartee  in  this  country 
has  received  a  blow  from  which  it  will 
take  it  some  time  to  recover.  A  fire  at 
Swansea  Yale  Spelter  Works  last  week 
destroyed  4,000  retorts.  . 

Professor  KROMKCJKR,  of  Brolau, 
predicts  that  three  thousand  years 
hence  all  males  of  the  human  species 
will  be  bald-headed.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  the  brush  and  comb  trades  have 
been  so  depressed. 


A  Berlin  paper  has 
started  a  prize  symposium 
on  the  question,  "  Who  is 
the  most  stupid  man  in 
Berlin?"  Such  is  the 
respect  for  the  bureaucracy 
there  that  all  the  local 
officials,  we  understand, 
are  hors  coiicours. 

It  was  perhaps  a  little 
bit  tactless  on  the  part  of 
the  gentleman  who  drew 
up  the  menu  for' the 
Admiralty  dinner  to  the 
French  officers  that  it 
should  have  included 
"  Creme  Germiny." 

The  Norddeutsche  AU-ije- 
mcinc  Zeitung  says  that 
congratulations  on  the  — 
occasion  of  the  EMPEROR'S  Jubilee  from 
foreign  Sovereigns  and  Heads  of  states 
were  so  numerous  that  it  has  been 
decided  not  to  publish  them  or  the 
replies.  It  is  hoped  that  this  will  put 
a  stop  to  the  nuisance. 

Mr.  JOHN  WILLIAM  GRIFFITH,  of 
Shepton  Mallet,  who  celebrated  his 
ninetieth  birthday  last  week,  has 
spent  seventy-three  yeais  among  the 
heeses.  He  gives  them  the  highest 
character  for  quietness  and  general 
jehaviour. 

1-      -I- 

The  BRAZILIAN  PRESIDENT  has  sanc- 
tioned a  decree  establishing  Greenwich 
time  in  Brazil.  Over  here  we  still 
reckon  by  rag-time. 

The  conditions  prevailing  at  the 
famous  Sing-Sing  prison  in  New  York 
are  declared  to  ba  most  inhumane,  and 
are  to  be  the  subject  of  enquiry.  The 
matter  is  an  important  one,  as  the 


A  New  Disease. 

'•  Mrs. stated  that  L,T 

son  was  a  good  boy.  ...  A 
littlj  while  ago  he  had  tuber- 
culosis of  the  not  only  of  tlie 
bishop  and  his  clergy  but  also 
lung. ' ' — Eastbourne  Gazette. 

Fortunately  "  Tuberculosis 
of  the  bishop"  is  very  un- 
usual in  this  country. 


"ANYTHING   IN   THE   FAXCY-TIE  LINE,    SlR  ? 


The  following  genuine 
letter  reaches  us  from  an 
Irish  correspondent : — • 
"To  Mr.  — — 

Sir, — I  should  have  sent  on 
the  interest  to  you  on  the 
money  and  am  I  told  that  you 
are  dead,  and  if  so  please  tell 
me  who  I  am  to  send  it  on 
two  but  I  hope  it  not  true.  I 
bs  very  sorry,  and  very  much 
oblige. 

Yours  sincerely, ." 


were  now  giving  the  public  "  the 
masterpieces  of  literature  at  the  price 
of  a  glass  of  brandy."  One  of  the 
inevitable  drawbacks  of  success  is  that 
one  is  charged  sovenpence  for  a  glass 
of  brandy.  £  ... 

"  Why  not  cow-catchers  for  race- 
horses ? "  suggests  a  correspondent 
with  the  view  of  minimising  the  danger 
of  such  incidents  as  took  place  at  Epsom 
and  Ascot.  ...  ... 

The  demand  for  Life  Guards  for 
Motor  Omnibuses  continues  to  be 
pressed.  The  War  Office,  however, 
is  not  prepared  to  risk  the  lives  of 
these  valuable  soldiers  in  such  service. 

The  appointment  of  Mr.  MEREDITH 
NICHOLSON  to  the  post  of  American 
Minister  to  Portugal  seems  an  appro- 
priate one.  Mysterious  disappearances 
of  political  opponents  of  the  present 
regime  are  reported  from  Lisbon.  Mr. 


<:Q.ieen    Victoria 


. 
gave  birth  to  a  son  this  morning." 

Irish  Independent. 
Won't  Dr.  SALEEHY  be  pleased  ! 

."Can  a  gentleman  recommend  a  \\vll- 
mannered  boy,  strong,  good  appeamncv,  as 
Boy-Footman?  Age  1C  ;  height  0  ft.  7.  Town 
and  country." — Church  Times. 

We  know  plenty  of  suitable  boys  but 
they  are  all  relatively  dwarfs. 

'•Notice  is  hereby  given,  that  Life  Policy 
No.  15007,  issued  by  the  Empire  of  India  Life 
Assurance  Company,  Limited,  on  my  life,  lias 
been  totally  destroyed  by  worms  and  due 
notice  has  been  given  to  the  Company. 

JOOGASOMER  AlHIiTAHUV." 

The  Statesman  (Calcutta). 
Alas,  JOGGASOMEK'S  own  turn  is  coming. 


The  Language  of  Convention. 
(ScKXE — Drurii  Lane  Theatre,  (litrinj  enig- 
matical   manivurrcs  of    so-called    T:  •:;::•; 
Ballet.) 

"  Qui  va  Id  ?  "  says  he. 
"Jeux,"   says   I,   not    knowing  tho 
language,  but  pretending  to. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


11 


Mr  PUNCHS 

H 


OLIDAY 


PAGES 


FROM  A  BAILWAY-CABBIAGB  WINDOW. 

WE  leave  the  draggled  skirts  of  town 
And  pass  to  meadows,  woods  and  rills, 

Gladdened  by  Nature's  spotless  gown 
And  Gallop's  "  Get-There  "  Liver  nils. 

Anon  we  rest  our  jaded  eyes 

On  browsing  kine  and  woolly  flocks 

Grouped  in  a  grassy  Paradise 

That 's  labelled  Bloke's  Extract  of  Ox. 

See  yonder  gently-rising  knoll 

With  daisy-ribbons  interlaced ; 
What  message  does  it  bring  the  soul  ? 

Polish  your  Soots  with  Blinko  Paste. 

A  sleeping  church,  a  smiling  farm, 

An  unsophisticated  inn, 
A  crumbling  tower,  whose  ivied  charm 

Betires  before  Jnventus  Gin  ; 

A  vision  of  a  jewelled  dell, 

Where  Mora  lends  her  habitat 
To  blazon  forth  the  magic  spell 

Of  Antitum,  the  Foe  of  Fat ; 

And  then  the  windy  heights  that  slope 
Down  to  the  dancing  sea ;  and  there 

We  read  the  crowning  words  of  hope — 
Brinol  will  Banish  Mal-de-Mcr. 


MODERN  FAIRIES. 

"  THE  Fairy  Glen  "  I  drew  anear ; 

I  'd  seldom  seen  a  spot  more  pleasing 
To  wearied  eye  and  harassed  ear, 

Fresh  from  the  town's  incessant  teasing; 
And,  seated  by  the  rippling  rill, 

Watching  its  eddies'  odd  vagaries, 
I  wondered  was  the  valley  still 

The  chosen  whereabouts  of  fairies. 

They  '11  come  (I  thought)  to  dance  and  siiig  ; 

Kelpie  and  gnome  and  elf  and  brownie 
Will  form  again  the  fairy  ring 

Here  where  the  sward  is  soft  and  downy, 
Or  haply  recommence  the  feast 

(Such  was  my  summer-day  delusion) 
That  I  feel  sure  has  lately  ceased 

Owing  to  my  profane  intrusion. 

I  see  their  traces  all  around ; 

With  fairy  signs  the  banks  bedecked  aro; 
The  feast's  remains  adorn  the  ground, 

Ambrosial  crumbs  and  drops  of  nectar ; 
"Tis  plain  enough  the  fairy  brood 

(Witness  the  way  the  grass  is  mottled) 
Use  paper-bags  to  hold  their  food 

And  much  prefer  their  nectar  bottled. 


12 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


ADVERTISING    THE    ENEMY. 

PAINFUL  POSITION  o»  M.P.  RETURNING  TO  HIS  HOTEL  ru  THB  ONLY  CLOTHES  LEFT  HIM  AFTEB  A  QUIET  BATHE  BEHIND  THE  BOCKS. 


•-  •£ 


Gorgeous  Individual  (visitor  at  sea-side,  running  across  resident  friend).  "  THANKS    FOB   xoua   KOTE,    OLD    CHAP.      I  'LL  BE 

GHTBD  TO  DINE  WITH  TOO  TO-NIGHT."  Friend.    "THAT'S   GOOD.      BY  THE   WAY,   I  THINK  I   SAID,    '  COME  AS  TOO  ABE  J 


BMIJGHTBD 

BDT  DO  YOU  MIND  DBESSINOl     WE  "BE  SUCH  PLAIN   SIMPLE  PEOPLE." 


JULY  2,  1913.J 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


13 


Gentleman  (who  IMS  just  climbed  the  lull).  "NEVER  WAS  A  TRUER  WORD  SPOKEN  THAN  THAT.' 


Old  Lady.  "DOES  YOUR  HORSE  EVER  SHY  AT  MOTORS?" 

Cabby.  "LoR1  BLESS  YEH,  NO,  LADY;    "E  DIDN'T  EVEN  SHY  WHEN  RAILWAY  TRAINS  FUST  COME  IN. 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI^  _JJ*™  ^ 


THE    FINER    POINTS. 

Tkt  Authority.    "AS   I  EXPLAINED  TO   'iM  AT  THE  TIME,   A>CELLULOID  COLLAB  IN  LODGINGS.   WELL  AND  GOOD;    BUT  IN  A  BOABDIHO 
ESTABLISHMENT,   SUCH  AS   SEA  VlEW,   A  THOUSAND  TIMES  NO  1  "  ^_ 


A   REARGUARD  ACTION. 

Ingoing  Batsman  (wlio  lias  been  commandeered  at  tlie  last  moment).  "  En— HAVEN'T  YOU  AKOTUEK  PAIR  OF  GUAEDS?    MY  LEGS  ABB 

QUITE  EXPOSED  AT  THE   BACK." 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


Irate  Major.  "\VHY  DON'T  YOU  COME  AMD  HELP  ME  OUT  INSTEAD  or  STANDING  THEBE  CHINNING  LIKE  A  TYPHOID  IDIOT?" 

Scout.    "I  THOUGHT  PEHHAP8  1'OU   WAS  TAKING  COVEB,    SlB  ?  " 


Owner.  "  YOU'LL  BE  A  NEW  MAN  AFTER  THIS,  MY  BOY." 

Fteble  Voice.  "WELL,  THEBE  ISN'T  MCCH  OP  THE  OLD  ONE  LEFT." 


16 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


Harold  (after  a  morning's  gardening).  "  I  WON'T  WASH  MY  HANDS  FOB  DINNER,  NORSE,  THEN  I  SHALL  ua  HEAbV  FOB  GARDENING* 

AGAIN  DIRECTLY  AFTERWARDS." 


She  (lecturing  him  on  self-denial).  "  FOR   INSTANCE,    WHY   DIDN'T   YOU   PUT   A   PENNY   IN   THE    MISSIONARY-BOX   THAT   GIRL   IS 

HANDING   ROUND,    INSTEAD   OF  SPENDING  IT  ON   CIGARS?" 

[Horror  of  superfine  person  whose  cigars  never  cost  him  less  than  one-and-sixpence.] 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVAIU. 


17 


OUR    GARDEN    SUBURB-ITS    DARK    SIDE. 

Jones  (unwarrantably  suspecting  anotlur  unneighbourly  action).  "ANNIE,  JUST  BUN  NEXT  DOOR  AND  TELL  MB.  SIJIPKINS  I  AM 

PERFECTLY    CAPABLE    OP   WATERING    MY    OWN    LAWN,   AND   I    SHALL    BE    MUCH    OBLIGED    IP   HE    WILL    HATE    THE    DECENCY  TO  KEEP  HIS 
HCSK   PLAYING   WITHIN  HIS   OWN   BOUNDARIES." 


OUR    GARDEN    SUBURB-ITS    BRIGHT    SIDE. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  HOGARTH-JENKINS,  89,  Buskin  Close,  AND  Mr.  and  Mrs.  DEBWENT-POTTS,  90,  Buskin  Close. 
LAWN  TENNIS.  AT    HOME— July  3rd,  2.30  to  6.  R.S.V.P.  to  either  address. 


18 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIVAKI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


HOW    TO    HAVE    A   THOROUGH    CHANGE; 

\VHICH,   IN   THE    OPINION'   OF   EXPERTS,    IS   THE   ESSENCE   OF   A   HOLIDAY. 


THUS,    A    SOCIETY   WOMAN    MIGHT  GO  AS  PAYING  GUEST  TO 
A  COUNTRY  VICABAGE. 


A   YOUNG  LADY    OF   AMOROUS    TENDENCIES    COULD   NOT    DO 
BETTER  THAN  TAKE   ROOMS  IN  A  REMOTE  VILLAGE. 

+  Youngest  male  inhabitant. 


A  GOURMET    SHOULD   TAKE   LODGINGS    OVER   A   TRIPE    SHOP 
AND  PEED  DOWNSTAIRS. 


A   MEMBER    OP    THE    BACHELORS'    CLUB    SHOULD    GO  BEAN- 
FEASTING:  TO  EPPING. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LO.NDOS  CHAIUVARI,  JULY  2,  1918. 


THE    LIBERAL    PLiA! 


JKE-PARTY   AT    SEA. 


Jur.Y  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


HOW   TO    HAVE    A   THOROUGH    CHANGE. 
[Continued.] 


THE   FOOTLIGHT  FAVOURITE  SHOULD  TRY  THB    EFFECT    OF 
ABSOLUTE  LONELINESS,   SAY,   SOMEWHERE  IN  THE  ORKNEYS. 


THB    SPORTING    MAN   MIGHT   SAMPLE   THE   PLEASUMS  Of  A 
MONTH  AT  A  HEALTH  RESORT. 


THE  SCOTCH  KI.DF.B  SHOULD  co  INTO  RETREAT  AT  TROUVILI.B 
OR  OSTEND,  ,...,.-. 


WHILE  THF.  "  MILITANT  "  UIOHT  CAMP  our  m  THB  WIDDU  o» 
DARTMOOR  OB  ANY  OTHEB  NON-INFLAMMABIJI  LOOAUTY. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


OUR    SCHOOL   TREAT-BLIND    MAN'S    BUFF. 

Little  Willie  (triumphantly,  having  captured  cow).   "  TEACHER  I  " 


~^^^>~  "''""^^'-S^v'^v^^^ft-' 
-ZZ^—"^** '  ""  "*^\  J^v*«*---->-,'+&*  ^^?;fj$%ji%:  'ttjJiji&^i . 


-•S&ric 


Tripper  (after  a  long  straight  drive  by  golfer).  "  WHAT  's  'B  DO  NOW,  'EBBEBT  ?  " 

Herbert.  "WALKS  APTEB  IT  AND  'ITS  IT  AGAIN." 

Tripper.  "Do  'E?    LOB'  LUMME,  THEN  I  SHOULD  TAKE  JOLLY  GOOD  CABE  NOT  TO  'IT  IT  TOO  run. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


25 


TO    BRIGHTEN    COUNTRY    GARDEN    PARTIES. 


OUK  TWO   CRACK   LAWN-TESNIS  PLAYERS  MIOHT  GIVE   CS  A 
KNOCKABOUT  EXHIBITION. 


OUB  YOCNQ  STOCK  EXCHANGE  RESIDENT  MIGHT  TELL,  A 
FEW  OF  THE  LATEST  STORIES  FROM  THE  HOUSE. 


DlVING   FOR  GOLDFISH  MIGHT  PROVE  A    DISTRACTION, 


AND  NO  MALE  GUEST  SHOULD  BE  ALLOWED  A  DRINK  UNTIL  HE 
BAS  LASSOED  THE  BUTLEB  OB  A   FOOTMAN. 


26 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Ji:i.Y   2,    1913. 


•O  \J  5  T 


H  A  R  -  wo 


[c  A  P  O    I  E.~{ 


COST 


SOME    PEOPLE    WHO    HAVE    BEEN    NEGLECTED    BY    THE    FASHION-PLATE    ARTIST. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


rr\(JH,   Oil  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


27 


MIXED 
BATHilNC 


"LET'S  GO  AND  'AVE  A  SWIM,  LIZA.''  "GABS,  SILLY!    'Ow 'D  THEX  KNOW  I  WAS  WITH  A  SOLJEU  IF  WE  DID?" 


Tourist  (landing  on  small  island  in  Hebrides — to  old  resident).  "  WHO  LIVES  HEBE,  MT  FRIEND?  " 

"  OH,   JUST   ME   AND  THE   WIFE   AND  MY  BRITHEB-IN-LAW." 

"AND   WHAT   SOBT  OF   PLACE  IS   IT?"  "OH,    AN  AWFU*   PLACE  FOB   SCANDAL." 


28 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


MR.    PUNCH'S    SEASIDE 
NOVELETTE. 

[May  be  read  on  the  pier.] 

No.   XCVIII.— A   SIMPLE   ENGLISH 

GIRL. 
CHAPTER  I. — PRIMROSE  FARM. 

PRIMROSE  Farm  stood  slumbering  in 
the  sunlight  of  an  early  summer  morn. 
Save  for  the  gentle  breeze  which  played 
in  the  tops  of  the  two  tall  elms  all 
Nature  seemed  at  rest.  Chanticleer 
had  ceased  his  song;  the  pigs  were 
asleep ;  in  the  barn  the  cow  lay  think- 
ing. A  deep  peace  brooded  over  the 
rural  scene,  the  peace  of  centuries. 
Terrible  to  think  that  in  a  few  short 
hours  .  .  .  but  perhaps  it  won't.  The 
truth  is  I  have  not  quite  decided 
whether  to  have  the  murder  in  this 
story  or  in  No.  XCIX. — The  Severed 
Thumb.  We  shall  see. 

As  her  alarum  clock  (a  birthday 
present)  struck  five,  Gwendolen  French 
sprang  out  of  bed  and  plunged  her  face 
into  the  clump  of  nettles  which  grew 
outside  her  lattice  window.  For  some 
minutes  she  stood  there,  breathing  in 
the  incense  of  the  day ;  then  dressing 
quickly  she  went  down  into  the  great 
oak-beamed  kitchen  to  prepare  break- 
fast for  her  father  and  the  pigs.  As 
she  went  about  her  simple  duties  she 
sang  softly  to  herself,  a  song  of  love 
and  knightly  deeds.  Little  did  she 
think  that  a  lover,  even  at  that  moment, 
stood  outside  her  door. 

"  Heigh-ho!"  sighed  Gwendolen,  and 
she  poured  the  bran-mash  into  a  bowl 
and  took  it  up  to  her  father's  room. 

For  eighteen  years  Gwendolen  French 
had  been  the  daughter  of  John  French 
of  Primrose  Farm.  Endowed  by  Nature 
with  a  beauty  that  is  seldom  seen  out- 
side a  novelette,  she  was  yet  as  modest 
and  as  good  a  girl  as  was  to  be  found 
in  the  county.  Many  a  fine  lady  would 
have  given  all  her  Parisian  diamonds 
for  the  peach-like  complexion  which 
bloomed  on  the  fair  face  of  Gwendolen. 
But  the  gifts  of  Nature  are  not  to  be 
bought  and  sold. 

There  was  a  sudden  knock  at  tho 
door. 

"  Come  in,"  cried  Gwendolen  in  sur- 
prise. Unless  it  was  the  cow,  it  was 
an  entirely  unexpected  visitor. 

A  tall  and  handsome  young  man 
entered,  striking  his  head  violently 


against   a   beam   as    lie   stepped   into 
the  low-ceilinged  kitchen. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  said,  repressing 
the  remark  which  came  more  readily 


to  his  lips.  "  Pray  forgive  this  intrusion. 
The  fact  is  I  have  lost  my  way,  and  I 
wondered  whether  you  would  be  kind 
enough  to  inform  me  as  to  my  where- 
abouts." 

Recognizing  from  his  conversation 
that  she  was  being  addressed  by  a 
gentleman,  Gwendolen  curtsied. 

"This  is  Primrose  Farm,  Sir,"  she 
said. 

"  I  fear,"  he  replied  with  a  smile,  "  it 
has  been  my  misfortune  never  to  have 
heard  so  charming  a  name  before.  I  am 
Lord  Beltravers,  of  Beltravers  Castle, 
Beltravers.  Having  returned  last  night 


from  India  I  came  out  for  an  early 
stroll  this  morning,  and  I  fear  that  I 
have  wandered  out  of  my  direction." 

"  Why,"  cried  Gwendolen,  "  your 
lordship  is  miles  from  Beltravers  Castle. 
How  tired  and  hungry  you  must  be." 
She  removed  a  lettuce  from  the  kitchen- 
chair,  dusted  it,  and  offered  it  to  him. 
[Dusted  the  chair,  of  course,  and  offered 
it  to  him. — ED.]  "  Let  me  get  you 


some  milk."  Picking  up  a  pail  she 
went  out  to  inspect  the  cow. 

"  Gad,"  said  Lord  Beltravers  as 
soon  as  he  was  alone.  He  paced 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  tiled  kitchen. 
"  Deuce  take  it,"  he  added  recklessly, 
"  she 's  a  lovely  girl."  The  Beltra verses 
were  noted  in  two  continents  for  their 
hard  swearing. 

"  Here  you  are,  Sir,"  said  Gwendolen, 
returning  with  the  precious  liquid. 

Lord  Beltravers  seized  the  pail  and 
drained  it  at  a  draught. 

"Heavens,  but  that  was  good!"  he 
said.  "  What  was  it  ?  " 

"  Milk,"  said  Gwendolen. 


*?. 


"  Milk,  I  must  remember.  And  now 
may  I  trespass  on  your  hospitality 
still  further  by  trespassing  on  your 
assistance  so  far  as  to  solicit  your  help 
in  putting  me  far  enough  on  my  path 
to  discover  my  way  back  to  Beltravers 
Castle?"  (When  he  was  alone  he 
said  that  sentence  again  to  himself, 
and  wondered  what  had  happened 
to  it.) 

"  I  will  show  you,"  she  said  simply. 

They  passed  out  into  the  sunlit 
orchard.  In  an  apple-tree  a  thrush 
was  singing ;  the  gooseberries  were 
over-ripe;  beet-roots  were  flowering 
everywhere. 

"  You  are  very  beautiful,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Gwendolen. 

"I  must  see  you  again.  Listen! 
To-night,  my  mother,  Lady  Beltravers, 
is  giving  a  ball.  Do  you  dance  ?  " 

"  Alas,  not  the  Tango,"  she  said  sadly. 

"The  Beltraverses  do  not  tang,"  ho 
announced  with  simple  dignity.  "  You 
valse  ?  Good.  Then  will  you  come  ?  ' 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord.  Oh,  I  should 
love  to!" 

"  That  is  excellent.  And  now  I  must 
bid  you  good-bye.  But  first,  will  you 
not  tell  me  your  name?  " 

"  Gwendolen  French,  my  lord." 

"  Ah  !     One  '  f '  or  two  ?  " 

"  Three,"  said  Gwendolen  simply. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


29 


CHAPTER  II.— BELTBAVEES  CASTLE. 
Beltravcrs  Casllo  was  a  blaze  of 
lights.  At  the  head  of  tho  old  oak 
staircase  (a  magnificent  example  of  the 
Selfridgo  period)  tho  Lady  Bollravers 
stood  receiving  her  guests.  Magnifi- 
cently gowned  in  one  of  Sweeting's 
latest  creations  and  wearing  round  her 
neck  tho  famous  Belt  ravers  seed-pearls, 
she  looked  the  picture  of  stately  magnifi- 
cence. As  each  guest  was  announced 
by  a  bevy  of  footmen,  she  extended  her 


perfectly-gloved  hand  and  spoke  a  few 
words  of  kindly  welcome. 

"  Good  evening,  Duchess ;  so  good  of 
you  to  look  in.  Ah,  Earl,  charmed  to 
meet  you ;  you  "11  find  some  sandwiches 
in  the  billiard-room.  Beltravers,  show 
the  Earl  some  sandwiches.  How-do- 
you-do,  Professor  ?  Delighted  you  could 
come.  Won't  you  take  off  your 
goloshes  ?  " 

All  the  county  was  there. 

Lord  Hobble  was  there  wearing  a 
magnificent  stud;  Erasmus  Belt,  the 
famous  author,  whose  novel  '  Bitteu : 
A  Bomance  "  went  into  two  editions : 
Sir  Scptirous  Root,  the  inventor  of  cue 
fire-proof  spat .  Captain  the  Honourable 
Alfred  Nibbs  the  popular  breeder  of 


blood-tortoises — the  whole  -world  and 
his  wife  were  present.     And  towering 


above  them  all  stood  Lord  Beltravers 
of  Beltravers  Castle,  Beltravers. 

Lord  Beltravers  stood  aloof  in  a 
corner  of  the  great  ball-room.  Above 
his  head  was  the  proud  coat-of-unns 


of  the  Beltraverses — a  headless  sardine 
on  a  field  of  tomato.  As  each  new 
arrival  entered  Lord  Beltravers  scanned 
his  or  her  countenance  eagerly,  and 
then  turned  away  with  a  snarl  of  dis- 
appointment. Would  his  little  country 
maid  never  come  ? 

She  came  at  last.  Attired  in  a  frock 
which  had  obviously  been  created  in 
Little  Popley,  she  looked  the  picture 
of  girlish  innocence  as  she  stood  for 
a  moment  hesitating  in  the  doorway. 
Then  her  eyes  brightened  as  Lord 
Beltravers  came  towards  her  with  long 
swinging  strides. 

"  You  're  here  1 "  he  exclaimed.  "  How 
good  of  you  to  come.  I  have  thought 
about  you  ever  since  this  morning. 


There  is  a  valse  beginning.  "Will  you 
valse  it  with  me?" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Gwendolen  shyly. 

Lord  Beltravers,  who  valsed  divinely, 
put  his  arm  round  her  waist  and  led 
her  into  the  circle  of  dancers. 


CHAPTKK  III.—  AFKIANCED. 

Tho  ball  was  at  its  height.  Gwen- 
dolen, who  had  been  in  to  supper  eight 
times,  placed  her  hand  timidly  on  the 
arm  of  Lord  Beltravers,  who  had  just 
begged  a  polka  of  her. 

"  Lot  us  sit  this  out,"  bbo  said. 
"Not  hero — in  the  garden." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lord  Beltravers  gravely. 
"  Let  us  go.  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you." 

Offering  her  his  arm  he  led  her  down 
the  great  terrace  which  ran  along  tho 
back  of  tho  house. 

"  How  wonderful  to  have  your  an- 
cestors always  around  you  like  this  1 " 
cooed  Gwendolen,  as  she  gazed  with 
reverence  at  the  two  statues  which 
fronted  them. 

"Venus,"  said  Lord  Beltravers  shortly, 
"and  Samson." 

He  led  her  down  the  steps  and  into 
the  ornamental  garden,  and  there  they 
sat  down. 

"  Miss  French,"  said  Lord  Beltravers, 
"or,  if  I  may  call  you  by  that  sweet 
name,  Gwendolen,  I  have  brought  you 
here  for  the  purpose  of  making  an  offer 
to  you.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been 
more  in  accordance  with  etiquette  had 
1  approached  your  mother  first." 

"  Mother  is  dead,  "said  the  girl  simply. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Lord  Beltravers, 
bending  his  head  in  courtly  sympathy. 
"  In  that  case  I  should  have  asked  your 
father  to  hear  my  suit." 

"  Father  is  deaf,"  she  replied.  "  He 
couldn't  have  heard  it." 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  Lord  Beltravers 
impatiently ;  "  I  beg  your  pardon," 
lie  added  at  once,  "  I  should  have  con- 
trolled myself.  That  being  so,"  he 
went  on,  "  I  have  the  honour  to  make 
to  you,  Miss  French,  an  offer  of 
marriage.  May  I  hope  ?  " 

Gwendolen  put  her  hand  suddenly 
to  her  heart.  The  shock  was  too  much 
for  her  fresh  young  innocence.  She  was 


not  really  engaged  to  Giles  Earwaker, 


30 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


though  he  too  was  hoping;  and  the 
only  three  times  that  Thomas  Eitson 
had  kissed  her  she  had  threatened  to 
box  his  ears. 

"  Lord  Beltrnvers,"  she  began — 

"  Call  me  Beltravers,"  he  begged. 

"  Beltravers,  I  love  you.  I  give  you 
a  simple  maiden's  heart." 

"  My  darling !  "  he  cried,  clasping  her 
thumb  impulsively.  "Then  we  are 
affianced." 

He  slipped  a  ring  off  his  finger  and 
fitted  it  affectionately  on  two  of  hers. 

"Wear  this,"  he  said  gravely.  "It 
was  my  mother's.  She  was  a  de  Din- 
digul.  See,  this  is  their  crest — a  roeless 
herring  over  the  motto  Dans  I'huile." 
Observing  that  she  looked  puzzled  he 
translated  the  noble  French  words  to 
her.  "  And  now  let  us  go  in.  Another 
dance  is  beginning.  May  I  beg  for  the 
honour?" 

"Beltravers,"  shewhispered  lovingly. 

CHAPTER  IV. — EXPOSURE. 

The  next  dance  was  at  its  height. 
In  a  dream  of  happiness  Gwendolen  re- 
volved with  closed  eyes  round  Lord  Bel- 
travers of  Beltravers  Castle,  Beltravers. 

Suddenly  above  the  music  rose  a 
voice,  commanding,  threatening. 

"  Stop ! "  cried  the  Lady  Beltravers. 

As  if  by  magic  the  band  ceased  and 
all  the  dancers  were  still. 

"There  is  an  intruder  here,"  said 
Lady  Beltravers  in  a  cold  voice.  "  A 
milkmaid,  a  common  farmer's  daughter. 
Gwendolen  French,  leave  my  house 
this  instant !  " 

Dazed,  hardly  knowing  what  she  did, 
Gwendolen  moved  forward.  In  an 
instant  Lord  Beltravers  was  after  her. 

"  No,  mother,"  he  said,  with  the 
utmost  dignity.  "  Not  a  common  milk- 
maid, but  the  future  Lady  Beltravers." 

An  indescribable  thrill  of  emotion  ran 
through  the  crowded  ball-room.  Lord 
Hobble's  stud  fell  out ;  and  Lady  Susan 


Golightly  hurried  across  the  room  and 
fainted  in  the  arms  of  Sir  James  Batt. 


"  What !  "  cried  the  Lady  Bel- 
travers. "  My  son,  the  last  of  the 
Beltraverses,  the  Beltraverses  who  came 
over  with  Julius  W'ernher  (I  should  say 
Caesar),  marry  a  milkmaid  ?  " 

"No,  mother.  He  is  marrying  what 
any  man  would  be  proud  to  marry — a 
simple  English  girl." 

There  was  a  cheer,  instantly  sup- 
pressed, from  a  Socialist  in  the  band. 

For  just  a  moment  words  failed  the 
Lady  Beltravers.  Then  she  sank  into 
a  chair,  and  waved  her  guests  away. 

"  The  ball  is  over,"  she  said  slowly. 
"Leave  me.  My  son  and  I  must  be 
alone." 

One  by  one,  with  murmured  thanks 
for  a  delightful  evening,  the  guests 
trooped  out.  Soon  mother  and  son 
were  alone.  Lord  Beltravers,  gazing 
out  of  the  window,  saw  the  'collist 


laboriously  dragging   his  'cello   across 
the  park. 

CHAPTER  V. — THE  END. 

[And  now,  dear  readers,  I  am  in  a 
difficulty.  How  shall  the  story  go  on  ? 
The  editor  of  Mr.  Punch's  Seaside 
Library  asks  quite  frankly  for  a 
murder.  His  idea  was  that  the 
Lady  Beltravers  should  be  found  dead 
in  the  park  next  morning  and  that 
Gwendolen  should  be  arrested.  This 
seems  to  me  both  crude  and  vulgar. 
Besides  I  want  a  murder  for  No.  XCIX. 
of  the  series— The  Severed  Thumb. 

No,  I  think  I  know  a  better  way  out.] 

Old  John  French  sat  beneath  a 
spreading  pear-tree  and  waited.  Early 
that  morning  a  mysterious  note  had 
been  brought  to  him,  asking  for  an 
interview  on  a  matter  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance. This  was  the  trysting-place. 

"  I  have  come, ' '  said  a  voice  behind  him, 
"  to  ask  you  to  beg  your  daughter — 

"I  HAVE  COME,"  cried  the  Lady 
Beltravers,  "  TO  ASK  YOU — 

"I  HAVE  COME,"  shouted  her 
ladyship,  "  TO— 

John  French  wheeled  round  in  amaze- 
ment. With  a  cry  the  Lady  Beltravers 
hrank  back. 

"  Eustace,"  she  gasped — "  Eustace, 
Earl  of  Turbot !  " 

"Eliza!" 


"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  I  camo 
to  see  John  French." 

"What?" 

She  repeated  her  remark  loudly 
several  times. 


"  I  am  John  French,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  When  you  refused  me  and  married 
Beltravers  I  suddenly  felt  tired  ol 
Society ;  and  I  changed  my  name  and 
settled  down  here  as  a  simple  farmer. 
My  daughter  helps  me  on  the  farm." 

"  Then  your  daughter  is — 

"  Lady  Gwendolen  Hake." 

A  beautiful  double  wedding  was 
solemnized  at  Beltravers  in  October, 


the  Earl  of  Turbot  leading  Eliza,  Lady 
Beltravers  to  the  altar,  while  Lord 
Beltravers  was  joined  in  matrimony  to 
the  beautiful  Lady  Gwendolen  Hake. 
There  were  many  presents  on  both 
sides,  which  partook  equally  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  costly. 

Lady  Gwendolen  Beltravers  is  now 
the  most  popular  hostess  in  the  county; 
but  to  her  husband  she  always  seems 
the  simple  English  milkmaid  that  ho 
first  thought  her.  Ah  1  A.  A.  M. 


"The  Bishop  remained  motionless  and 
impassive.  ...  A  woman  rushed  wildly  to 
the  front  of  the  platform  and  endeavoured 
to  agree  with  the  vicar,  whom  she  hit  on  tlio 
back  with  an  umbrella." 

The  Englishman  (Calcutta). 

Agreement  off. 


rrxnr.  nu  TIII:  LONDON  CJIAIUVAKI.— JULY  2. 


PAINTING    THE    LILY. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


33 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  i  ROM  TIIK  DIABV  OP  Tony,  M.V.) 

JFtni:;i-  «f  Commons,  Momln;/,  June  23. 
— CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHEQUER,  rising 
at  Question  time  to  reply  to  inquiry 
from  FnKi)  HALL  (still  of  Duhvich) 
about  equitable  readjustment  of  local 
ami  imperial  finance,  startled  by  out- 
burst of  cheering.  It  sprang  spon- 
taneously from  Minis- 
terial benches  and  we 3 
vociferously  echoed  by 
Irish  Members  opposite. 

In  exceptional  gusbes 
of  wifely  attachment 
Mrs.  Micawber  was  ac- 
customed to  assure  her 
husband  that  she  would 
"never  desert  him." 
Not,  as  Mr.  Micawber 
once  tartly  observed,  that 
there  had  been  any  sug- 
gestion of  abrupt  parting. 
It  was  merely  casual 
assurance  of  her  faith, 
affection  and  attachment. 

In  this  sense  the  un- 
expected demonstration 
was  construed.  In  spite 
of  anything  that  may 
have  happened  in  the 
way  of  private  invest- 
ments, in  scorn  of  insinu- 
ations made  in  certain 
quarters,  Liberals  are 
not  going  to  desert  LLOYD 
GEORGE. 

Little  incident  prelude  to  brisk  de- 
bate on  procedure  as  applied  to  Bills 
engineered  in  connection  with  operation 
of  Parliament  Act.  PREMIER  moved 
Resolution  intermitting  Coinmitt>3  and 
Report  Stage  in  respect  of  Home  Eule 
Bill,  Welsh  Church  Disestablishment 
Bill  and  Bill  designed  to  encourage 
Temperance  in  Scotland. 

In  able  speech  that  crowns  Parlia- 
mentary reputation  slowly  but  steadily 
growing,  SON  AUSTEN  went  to  root 
of  the  matter.  By  way  of  mollifying 
Opposition  the  Resolution  gave  one  day 
to  consideration  of  Irish  Finance  and 
three  hours  for  financial  Resolution  of 
the  Welsh  Church  Bill. 

"  Is  not  the  right  honourable  gentle- 
man over-generous  ?  "  AUSTEN  CHAMBER- 
LAIN asked.  "  Why  give  any  time  at 
all  ?  What  is  the  use  of  it  ?  " 

That  is  a  question  submitted  the 
other  day  by  the  MEMBER  FOR  SARK. 
The  course  of  procedure  with  these 
Bills  is  an  inevitable  sequence  to  the 
passing  last,  year  of  the  Parliament  Act. 
That  allotted  to  measures  approved  by 
majority  of  the  Commons  and  thrown 
out  by  the  Lords  a  course  of  three 
sessions  before  they  reach  the  Statute 
Book.  But,  in  order  to  profit  by 


provisions  of  the  Act,  a  Bill  passed  for 
the  third  time  by  the  Commons  and  sent 
on  to  the  Lords  must  be  identical  word 
for  word,  comma  for  comma,  with  the 
one  carried  in  first  session. 

Then  what  is  the  use  of  discussing 
it  over  again  in  the  second  session  ? 
Though  Members  speak  with  the 
tongues  of  men  and  angels,  they  can- 
not alter  a  line.  If  they  did,  the  whole 


"  She  would  '  never  desert  him.'  " 
(Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  as  Mr.  Micawber.) 

fabric  would  break  down ;  would  have 
to  be  finally  abandoned  or  rebuilt  from 
the  foundations.  It  is  in  the  next,  the 
third,  session  that  businsss  may  be  done. 
If  to  the  sensitive  mind  need  be  for 
formally  going  through  stages  of  such 
Bills  in  second  session,  the  measures 
now  in  hand  might  be  driven  three 
abreast,  a  stage  a  sitting,  the  journey 
to  be  completed  in  four  days.  This 
would  be  equally  efficacious  and  would 
practically  leave  four  sittings  for  pro- 
gress with  other  business. 


"  SON  ACSTEN  goes  to  the  root  of  the  matter." 


That  was  SABK'S  idea.  Pleased  to  find 
support  from  the  eminent  Parlipmen- 
tarian  who  puts  the  question  in  briefest 
form  "  Why  [in  the  second  session] 
give  any  time  at  all?  What  is  the  use 
of  it  ?  " 

Businessdone. — Ministerial  Procedure 
Resolution  carried  by  294  against  202. 
Tuesday. — Whilst  the  Lords  have 
with  fraternal  zeal  been  considering 
case  of  Ancient  Monu- 
ments, the  Commons  not 
only  did  exceptionally 
good  day's  work  but 
finished  it  before  half- 
past  seven.  This  largely 
due  to  circumstance  that 
Bill  amending  Insurance 
Act  was  brought  in  under 
Ten  Minutes'  Rule.  Ex- 
position of  provisions  of 
Bill  limited  to  that  period 
of  time,  and  only  one 
supplementary  speech 
permitted.  The  privilege 
was  not  exercised  by 
Opposition,  and,  within 
quarter-of-an-hour  after 
his  rising,  CHANCELLOR 
OF  EXCHEQUER,  amid 
loud  cheers  from  Minis- 
terialists, retreated  to 
Bar,  faced  right-about, 
and  marched  up  to  the 

mil  f 

T,able-  bringing  his 
sheaves  with  him  in 
form  of  folded  sheet  of 
foolscap  purporting  to 
be  a  copy  of  the  Bill. 

(As  matter  of  fact  it  was  a  blank 
sheet  of  paper  known  as  "  a  dummy." 
Thus  doth  the  stately  Mother  of  Parlia- 
ments upon  occasion  palter  with  the 
truth.) 

House  straightway  went  into  Com- 
mittee to  consider  financial  proposals 
of  Home  Rule  Bill.  Here  was  more 
scope  for  conversation.  The  whole  of 
remainder  of  sitting,  a  minimum  of 
seven  hours,  might  have  been  occupied 
more  or  less  usefully  in  discussion. 
Yesterday,  when  PREMIER  moved  Reso- 
lution strictly  limiting  time  for  debate, 
angry  speakers  from  Opposition  Benches 
denounced  him  for  "throttling"  them, 
and  loudly  lamented  "  the  degradation 
of  Parliament."  And  behold !  with 
seven  hours  at  their  disposal  exactly 
one-half  the  time  was  found  to  suffice. 
While  it  lasted,  conversation  became 
occasionally  lively.  TIM  HEALY — who 
has  attacked  the  Bill  from  the  first,  not 
because  he  loves  Home  Rule  the  less 
but  because  he  hates  JOHN  REDMOND 
the  more — had  a  final  fling.  Protested 
he  had  no  confidence  in  calculations  of 
Treasury  Clerks,  upon  which  financial 
scheme  of  Bill  was  based. 

"  It  is,"  ho  said,  "  the  same  at  the 


PUNCH,  on  TIIK  LONDON 


[.TIT.V  2,  1913. 


,  Treasury  as  with  other  departments  of  |  a  particular  liour  when  ])ill  or  potion  is 
I  the    Irish  Government.     J  ('  a  Coercion    to  he  administered,  so  lie  decrees  count 


Bill  is  v,  anted,  up  goes  tho  record  of 
murders  and  outrages.  Jf  the  Govern- 
!  inont  are  on  smother  tack,  backing  a 
Home:  Rule  Hill,  down  go  the  numbers. 
The  tiling  works  like  a  concert ina." 

Tho  INFANT  SUIIT.L,  \vho  knows 
moil)  aboi.t  iinanee  than  the  semi- 
episcopal  duties  of  St.  AUGUSTINE 
BIUHELL  permit  him  to  acquire,  blandly 
dest -ribed  tho  Irish  policy  of  the  Oppo- 
sition as  "a  combination  of  kicks  and 
ha'pence."  Whereto  COUSIN  HUGH, 
perhaps  irrelevantly,  retorted,  "In  deal- 
ing with  the  financial  problem  between 
England  and  Ireland  tho  Government 
are  combining  a  little  robbery  with  a 
little  starvation." 

This  sounds  quarrelsome.  Only  their 
fun.  At  twenty-three  minutes  past  seven 
Eesolution  moved  by  CHIEF  SKCKETAHT 
agreed  to  without  division. 

Business  done.  —  Insurance  Act 
Amendment  Bill  introduced.  Money 
proposals  of  Home  Kulc  Bill  agreed  to. 

Friday. — Motion  made  from  Treasury  ' 
Bench  for  appointment  of  Committee 
to  consider  Parliamentary  procedure. 
The  pertinacious  PIHIE,  not  waiting  for 
its  report,  introduces  new  form.  House, 
being  in  Committeeon  Scotch  Estimates, 
was  as  usual  almost  empty.  Denizens 
of  other  parts  of  still  United  Kingdom 
have  so  high  an  opinion  of  business 
capacity  of  Scotchmen  that  they  in- 
stinctively leave  them  to  manage  their 
own  business.  The  pugnacious  PIRIE, 
though  not  unconscious  of  the  compli- 
ment, resented  its  result.  If  English, 
Welsh  and  Irish  Members  within  call 
in  case  of  snap  division  would  not  sit 
out  the  debate  they  should  at  least  be 
disturbed  in  their  idle  pursuits  in  tea- 
room or  on  terrace.  Accordingly  at 
half-past  four,  the  very  moment  when 
strawberries,  cream  and  buttered  buns 
are  in  most  urgent  request,  ho  moved 
a  count. 

Members  crowded  in,  "made  a 
House,"  and  straightway  rushed  off, 
hoping  to  find  remains  of  their  inter- 
rupted meal  intact  from  alien  hands. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  implacable 
PIEIE.  "  At  a  quarter  to  six,  I  will  do 


at  quarter-to-six. 


CAMPBELL 

fascinated    liv 


of     North     Ayrshire     so 
idea  that  he  attempted 


to  adapt  it.  But  it  is  not  everyone  who 
can  wield  the  spear  of  Achilles.  At  a 
quarter-past  nine  CAMPHELL  moved 
a  count.  DEPUTY  -  CHAIRMAN  declined 
to  put  motion. 

"What!"  gasped  I  be  gallant  Captain, 
"didn't    you    inform    1113    that    at    a 
quarter  -  past     nine     you  'd    allow 
count  ?  " 

"I  informed  the  honourable  Member 
that  a  count  might  not  be  called  until 


it  again." 
And  he 


was   as  good  as  his  word. 


At  the  hour  named  the  tintinnabulation 
of  tho  bell  announced  another  count, 
which  was  followed  by  same  sudden 
rush  and  swift  retreat. 

Here  is  a  new  Parliamentary  pro- 
cedure that  promises  pleasing  excite- 
ment and  useful  exercise  on  sultry 
evenings.  Attempt  to  count  out  the 
I  House  common  enough.  Where  the 
punctilious  PIEIE  creates  a  diversion  isin 
respect  of  naming  the  precise  moment 


"  Xho  INFANT  SAMUEL." 

a  quarter-past  nine,"  loftily  replied  the 
DEPUTY-CHAIRMAN.  "  I  gave  no  indi- 
cation as  to  what  view  I  should  take  if 
my  attention  were  then  called  to  the 
absence  of  a  quorum." 

Business  done. — Committee  appointed 
to  consider  procedure. 


PASTIMES   FOR   M.P.'S. 

THE  recent  Parliamentary  Pigeon- 
Flying  Match  proved  such  an  enormous 
popular  success  and  was,  we  may  add, 
so  eagerly  supported  by  the  illustrated 
Press  that  it  seems  quite  certain  that 
our  legislators  will  not  be  content  to 
stop  there.  Our  representative  in  the 
Lobby  last  week  met  with  only  one 
opinion  on  tho  subject,  namely,  that  it 
was  a  thousand  pities  that  this  sort  of 
thing  had  not  been  thought  of  sooner, 
the  more  so  as,  in  the  opinion  of  many 
experts,  the  precincts  of  Westminster 
are  curiously  well-adapted  to  some  of 
our  national  sports  and  pastimes. 

The  promoters  of  the  Rabbit-Coursing 
Meet,  which  was  to  have  been  held 
(in  the  event  of  an  Autumn  Session) 
on  the  Terrace,  have  met  with  some 
opposition,  and  it  is  feared  that  the 
project  will  have  to  be  abandoned.  An 


when  he  will  move.     As  a  doctor  fixes  1  alternative  plan,  however,  is  receiving 


influential  support.     It  is  proposed  to 
get  through  a  short  Bill  legalizing  the 
Embankment    as    tho    s-cene    of    thi 
contest  and  closing  it  to  all  other  traffic 
during  its  continuance.     It  is  thought 
that   even    in    the    present    coiige.-te< 
state   of   public   business   such  a  Bill 
powerfully  backed  as  it  will  bo  and  ol 
an    entirely    non-contentious    nature, 
should   have  no  difficulty  in  reaching 
the  Statute  Book. 

Meanwhile  the  Whips  are  being 
consulted  on  the  feasibility  of  intro- 
ducing a  new  system  of  Pairs,  by  which 
a  whole  team  of  contending  members 
of  the  Government  and  the  Opposition 
might  be  paired  en  bloc,  in  tho  event  of 
an  important  division  threatening  to 
occur  during  a  game  of  Rounders  in 
Parliament  Square. 

It  is  said  that  the  movement  in 
favour  of  Ratting  parties,  with  a  terrier 
and  hockey  sticks,  along  tho  waterside, 
is  by  no  means  smiled  upon  by  the 
Government,  and  it  is  even  asserted 
that  members  of  the  Coalition  have  had 
to  sign  an  agreement  not  to  join  any 
party  for  this  sport  unless  it  shall 
embrace  members  of  the  Opposition  in 
a  proportion  of  two  to  one,  as  a  safe- 
guard against  "  Snaps."  On  the  other 
hand  the  Cabinet  is  doing  all  it  can  to 
foster  the  new  interest  that  has  been 
aroused  in  the  old  round  game  of 
throwing  cards  into  a  hat — with,  of 
course,  Order  papers  substituted  as  the 
regulation  missile.  This  game  may  \>s 
enjoyed,  with  a  little  ordinary  circum- 
spection, in  the  Chamber  itself,  and  is 
an  admirable  means  of  keeping  one's 
supporters  on  tho  spot. 

There  are  still  some  old-fashioned 
prejudices  to  be  overcome.  Hunt-the- 
slipper  has  been  forbidden  in  the  Smok- 
ing Room.  But  tho  new  movement  has 
been  enthusiastically  received  by  tho 
Press  photographers  and  it  should  do 
much  as  time  goes  on  to  brighten  the 
lives  of  our  members  and  relieve  the 
tedium  of  debate. 


The  World's  Builders. 

The  militants  have  erected  ininitancy  into 
a  princle." — Glasgow  Jleral/!. 

Not  so  easy  as  it  sounds. 


Very  Long  Putts. 

11  Time  after  time  long  putts  either  slopped 
about  an  inch  short  of  the  tee  or  turned  aside 
at  the  last  minute." — Yorkshire  J'ost. 
Sickening,  after  being  dead  straight  for 
tho  first  five  minutes. 


'Will  Ray  maintained  his  straiphtness  in 
the  long  game.  On  the  answer  to  that  ques- 
tion perhaps  depends  the  result." 

]>aibj  Mirror. 

But  can  a  statement  about  EDWARD 
RAY'S  brother  WILLIAM  (if  lie  has  one) 
be  called  a  question  ? 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


35 


TOPIARY   FEVER. 

IllS«< — FlBST   SYMPTOMS. 


A  DREAM-DINNER. 

No  silk  pavilions  raised  of  Eastern  fable 
For  me,  nor  ottomans  and  awkward  poses ; 

Dark  oak  upon  the  walls,  upon  the  table 
White  napery,  old  silver,  and  red  roses— 

These  o'er  a  garden  where  dream-borders  shine 

I  build  of  dreams,  and  Stella  comes  to  dine. 

I  do  not  set  the  cresset's  sparks  a-flitting 

Down  an  Arabian  dusk  on  hot  winds  roaming ; 

Softest  electrics  in  an  old  French  fitting 
I  blend  for  her  with  June's  wide-windowed 
gloaming, 

Wherein  I  hang  the  yellow  moon,  because 

A  friend  to  lovers  moonlight  ever  was. 

Slaves  do  not  hand  us,  of  Aladdin's  uses, 
The  snow-cooled  sherbets  of  date-palmed 
Damascus ; 

We  do  not  squeeze  the  pink  pomegranate's  juices, 
But,  when  a  shadow-butler  bends  to  ask  us, 

We  plump  for  Chateau  Rothschild  '78 

(Stella 's  particular  about  the  date). 

No  roasted  kid  for  us,  no  fatted  suckling, 
Whereof  a  Sultan  eats  in  silken  splendour ; 

We  like  clear  soup,  Scotch  salmon,  and  a  duckling, 
And  heaped  red  strawberries  whose  legions  render 

Enough  for  half-a-dozen  helps  at  least 

When  Stella  shares  with  me  a  moonshine  feast. 


No  conch  shall  blare,  nor  any  nautch-girl's  cymbal 
Sully  the  flow  of  pleasant  conversation  ; 

My  Stella — bless  her  ! — has  a  wit  that 's  nimble; 
Her  tongue  makes  music  for  my  admiration  ; 

And,  should  some  sudden  silence  drop  the  veil, 

Outside  my  nightingales  take  up  the  tale. 

Mocha  comes  last — black-magic,  hot  and  fragrant, 

Ambrosial  on  the  summer  evening  falling'; 
We  drink  it  on  a  terrace  where  the  vagrant 

Blue  smoke-wreaths  curl  up  and  the  owls  are 

calling ; 

And  what 's  to  pay  ?  But  nothing.  You  will  find, 
That  he  who  dines  in  dreams  leaves  naught  behind, 
Saving,  mayhap,  a  little  peace  of  mind  ! 


A   "Clerical"   Error. 

"  The  Rev.  Preb.  H.  G.  Hellier  urged  that  the  demonstration 
should  be  not  only  non-political,  but  everything  should  be  done  to 
make  it  irreligious." — Wells  Journal. 


'  The  special  consignments  at 


's,  Widmoro  Road,  Bromley, 


this  week  are  salmon,  live  lobsters,  whitebait,  trout,  Marche  Heroiquo 
Andantino  in  D  flat,  and  .  .  .  "—Bromley  District  Times. 

Here  the  list  breaks  off;    and  we  hasten  to  send  in  our 
order  for  a  brace  of  Marches  Heroiques  and  one  whitebait. 


"  '  Marcus  stoned  in  the  Garden,'  92  guineas." — Western  Mail. 
Wo   prefer  the   more   stirring  picture,    "The  Hon.   John 
collaring  the  Cheat." 


36 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


DICKENS. 

(Possibly  by  tlie  author  of  tlic  article  on  Balzac  in  a 
recent  number  of  "  The  Times  Literary  Supplement.  ) 

THIS  study,  if  indeed  we  may  so  term  it,  study  being  of 
the  mind  impalpable,  whereas  something  solid  may  not 
unreasonably  bo  expected  to  come  of  an  addition  of  pages 
to  the  number  of  not  fewer  than  four  hundred  and  fifteen 
(and  in  this  we  do  not,  such  being  tlu  custom,  reckon 
either  preface  or  index),  has,  since  it  was  not  unknown  that 
Mr.  Hickson  was  deeply  engaged  upon  the  work  been  for 
a  long  time  in  the  so  blandly  nebulous  region  of  expecta- 
tion, and  is  now  at  last,  its  sails  bellying  with  a  favourable 
wind,  come  into  harbour 

It  may  be  well,  as  wo  set  ourselves  to  tread  its  decks 
and,  with  whatever  of  inspecting  power  we  may  possess,  to 
explore  and  classify  the  so  carefully  packed  and  labelled 
cargo,  to  consider  for  not  more  than  a  moment  and  to 
explain  clearly  what  the  good  ship  "Hickson"— and  for  the 
word  "good  "  we  make  no  apology — is  not  rather  than  is,  this 
method  being  not  so  much  to  aim  a  spear  outside  the  target 
or  around  or  above  or  beluw  it,  but  to  the  very  heart  and 
centre  of  it,  where  you  and  we  and  they,  too,  may  see  it 
quiver.  We  may  leave  out,  as  being  superfluous,  the  mere 
beginning  and  what  next  follows  thereon  as  an  immediate 
consequence,  largely  conditioned  though  it  be,  we  make 
no  doubt,  by  the  reader's  mind  in  grappling  with  the  so 
insistent  problem  of  enumeration. 

Thirdly,  then,  Mr.  Hickson— and  if  we  name  him  again 
it  is  plainly  with  the  respect  duo  to  one  whose  intellect, 
not,  indeed,  merged  into,  but  plainly  attracted  by,  the  fiction 
(we  underline  that  word)  of  DICKENS,  has  shown  us 
mellifluously,  none  the  less,  the  old  stage-directions  and 
tulti  qitanti  of  his  subject  —  is  not  a  tramp  steamer 
ploughing  the  ocean  by  an  unfixed  route  ever  at  the  mercy 
of  winds  and  waves  and  such  other  influences  as  an  un- 
charted sea  may  bring  to  bear,  but  a  stately  vessel,  showing 
by  the  mere  magic  of  her  predestined  voyaging  how  closely 
and  how  reasonably,  seamanship  as  a  science  being 
granted,  a  man  with  his  limits  of  outlook  may  triumph 
over  what,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  we  may  tentatively 
term  the  elements. 

Of  the  characters  of  DICKENS  it  must  be  said,  and  of  this 
Mr.  Hickson  to  his  credit  is  more  than  dimly  aware,  that 
they  move  in  orbits  of  their  own  and  are  subject,  not  to 
such  accidents  as  may  properly  be  predicted  of  these  orbits, 
but  to  other  quite  extraordinary  accidents  having  only  this 
in  common  with  the  ordinary  accidents  of  human  nature 
that  they  happen  and  must  necessarily  be  accepted  as 
having  happened ;  but  of  this  the  great  reading  public  has 
scarce  other-thai!  the  vaguest  notion  and  cannot  know  that 
they  couldn't  and  didn't  happen,  but  could  and  .would  be 
and  were  described  in  such  far  better  language  than  if  they 
had  been  what,  in  truth,  they  were  never  intended  to  be 
and  actually  were  not.  Caught  and  imprisoned,  now 
thrust  -backward  to  a  pillar,  now  forward  with  a  quite 
different  poignancy  to  something  imagined  that  might, 
where  all  else  was  so  remorselessly  changeable,  pass  for 
a  post,  are  there  yet  not  intervals,  are  there  not  spaces  in 
which  it  is  still  vaguely  understood  that  Pecksniff  was,  in- 
deed, a  spirit  not  of  compromise  but  of  limitless  mockery 
transcendentally  embodied  for  aversion  and  laughter?  For 
this  Mr.  Hickson,  while  not  too  precisely  convicted  of  . 
[Here  the  TU'o.  abruptly  ends.] 


A  Bargain. 

"  18-carat  3  stone  diamond  and  ruby  ring,  large  size,  cost  £1  10s. 
sell  i3  15s." — Evening  News. 


RHYME  OF  THE  EVASIVE  REVIEWER. 

WHEN  a  novel  that  might  disgust  a  Dago 

Falls  to  my  lot  for  a  full  review, 
Or  a  sex-romance  by  a  shrill  virago 

With  a  hero-cad  and  a  heroine-shrew, 
I  'm  far  too  gentle  to  crab  or  slate  them 

Or  lay  them  out  in  the  Bludyer  style ; 
So  I  make  it  my  aim  to  understate  them 

With  the  aid  of  euphemistic  guile. 

Though  the  plot  and  the  dialogue  are  amazing 

Enough  to  startle  a  Tosk  or  a  Gheg, 
And  the  hero's  language  is  equal  to  raising 

A  crop  of  hair  on  a  hard-boiled  egg, 
I  don't  enlarge  upon  these  shortcomings, 

But  I  ladle  the  eulogy  slab  and  thick 
On  the  author's  "freedom  from  hawings  and 
hiunmings," 

His  "  faithful  portraits  done  from  the  quick." 

When  the  heroine  jilts  a  dean  for  a  tailor — 

A  Polish  Jew  with  a  terrible  beak — 
Or  talks  in  a  style  that  would  shock  a  whaler 

And  raise  a  blush  on  a  scavenger's  cheek, 
It  were  simply  a  verbal  desecration 

To  call  her  a  nasty  little  minx, 
So  I  dwell  on  the  fun  of  the  situation 

As  the  finest  sport  and  the  highest  of  jink<j 

When  a  prosperous  versatile  impostor 

In  a  number  of  rdles  essays  to  shine, 
I  lend  my  pen  the  illusion  to  foster 

That  here  is  an  artist  who 's  all  divino ; 
He  may  be  only  the  minnows'  Triton, 

But  I  find  that  it  generally  pays 
To  lavish  upon  a  bastard  Crichton 

The  pap  of  an  undiluted  praise. 

When  a  half-baked  suitor  for  musical  laurels 

Composes  a  sloppy  amorphous  thing — 
To  a  book  of  .pseudo-exotic  morals— 

That  is  hard  to  play  and  ugly -to  sing, 
Though  the  creature's  Himalayan  labours 

Have  only  produced  a  melodic  mouse, 
With  patriot  pen  I  exhort  my  neighbours 

To  hail  the  fraud  as  a  super-STBAUSH. 

When  an  underbred  intellectual  greaser 

Has  perpetrated  a  putrid  play, 
From  which,  in  the  days  of  a  decadent  Ca-sar, 

The  dregs  of  Rome  would  have  kept  away  ; 
Though  it 's  fit  to  turn  a  black  man  livid 

I  speak  of  its  art  in  an  awestruck  tone 
As  "honest,"  and  "brave"  and  "patiently  vivid, 

And  leave  its  dustbins  and  drains  alone. 

So  over  the  gamut  of  gross  evasion, 

Day  in,  day  out,  I  cheerfully  range, 
And  use  my  gift  of  oily  persuasion 

To  prove  that  the  vile  is  only  the  strange ; 
For  why  should  I  strive  to  lift  my  brothers 

Out  of  the  clutch  of  their  native  mire? 
Unsalaried  tasks  I  leave  to  others  ; 

No  man  can  deny  that  I  earn  my  hire. 


Doing  it  thoroughly. 

"  In  China  not  so  many  years  ago  a  large  river  overflowed  its  banks 
and  five  millions  of  people  losjt.  their  lives  by  drowning,  and  afterwards 
by  starvation." — Navy  League  Quarterly. 


JUI.Y  2,  1913.] 


IMXrir,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


37 


Militant.  "Now,  ISN'T  THAT  PROVOKING?    HEBE'S  A  LOVELY  DIG  HOUSE  TO  LET  ASD  I'VE  FORGOTTEX  MY  MATCHES \  I" 


THE  HAND  OF  FATE. 

PEOPLE  have  called  me  inconsistent; 
some  peopls  have  gone  so  far  as  to  say 
I  am  hopelessly  inconsistent;  but  then, 
some  people.  .  .  . 

As  a  matter  of  fact  and  entirely  with- 
out prejudice,  I  have  the  artistic  tem- 
perament. It  is  only  on  this  ground 
that  I  can  account  for  the  fact  that  I 
should  lovo  Olivia  and  Daphne  at  one 
and  the  same  time,  or  concurrently,  as 
we  of  the  higher  branch  put  it. 

Olivia  is  very  fair ;  I  mean,  of  course, 
fair  of  feature. 

Daphne  is  dark  and,  from  an  allit- 
ciativj  point  of  view,  I  feel  sure  that 
nothing  could  he  neater.  Daphne  is 
dark. 

When  I  add  that  Olivia  is  tall  and 
cumbersome,  whereas  Daphne  is  petite, 
you  will  readily  deduce  that  the  two 
girls  are  distinguishable  one  from  the 
other. 

Ami  yet  I  loved  them  equally  well. 
In  the  absence  of  Olivia,  Daphne 
occupied  the  whole  of  my  heart ;  con- 
versely, in  the  absence  of  Daphne, 
)hvia  more  than  filled  the  vacancy. 

It  was  a  strange  situation,  even  to 
one  accustomed,  as  I  am,  to  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  life. 

Up  to  a  few  days  ago,  fortune  had 
never  decreed  that  the  two  girls  should 


meet  in  the  presence  of  my  heart,  and 
therefore  I  had  never  been  abb  to  dis- 
cover which  of  the  two  was  to  be  the 
lucky  one.  After  an  encounter  with 
Olivia,  the  odds  rose  a  shade  in  her 
favour;  a  subsequent  meeting  with 
Daphne  and  the  betting  turned  right 
round.  The  batting  turned  right  round. 

It  was  a  strange  situation.  What- 
ever people  may  have  said  of  me  (see 
above),  I  am  not  lacking  in  courage. 
I  decided  that  a  joint  meeting  should 
be  arranged,  accepting  with  quiet  calm 
the  danger  of  the  situation.  I  refer,  of 
course,  to  the  possibility  of  my  heart 
being  torn  in  doubt ;  in  two,  parhaps. 

With  consummate  guile,  I  wandered 
into  the  town  on  the  day  when  the 
largest  local  milliner  was  holding  a  sale. 
In  the  most  natural  manner,  and  per- 
fect snow-white  spats,  I  strolled  up  and 
down  the  High  Street  just  outside  the 
milliner's.  My  scheming  was  imme- 
diately successful.  Before  five  minutes 
had  elapsed  Olivia  was  on  the  scene. 

"  Hello ! "  she  said,  and  my  heart 
leapt. 

"  Hello !  "  I  replied  with  perfect  calm. 
"Shopping?" 

Olivia  nodded.     "  *M." 

I  was  just  about  to  say  something 
witty,  when  Daphne  emerged  from  the 
shop.  My  handkerchief  pocket  quivered 
in  a  most  alarming  manner. 


"Hello!"  said  Olivia. 

"  Hello !  "  said  Daphne. 

"  Are  you  there  ?  "  I  suggested. 

They  both  laughed.  Honours,  so  far, 
were  even. 

"  Shopping  ?  "  I  enquired. 

Daphne  nodded.     "  "M." 

In  the  short  silence  that  followed 
my  excitement  was  tremendous.  I  was 
just  on  the  point  of  saying  something 
clever  when  Daphne  interrupted. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  aren't  you 
going  to  congratulate  us?"  I  looked  at 
her  blankly. 

"  Us ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  But  you  can't 
both,  you  know.  I  mean,  there  can 
only  bo  one  of  you,  and,  as  yet,  I  don't 
know  which."  I  was  getting  a  little 
confused. 

"  My  dear  man,  what  do  you  mean?" 
said  Olivia.  "  Of  course  wo  can  both, 
you  know." 

She  patted  Daphne's  arm.  "  The 
future  Mrs.  Banton,"  she  announced. 

Daphne  nodded  to  Olivia.  "  The 
future  Mrs.  Merrilies,"  she  exclaimed. 

And  then  I  understood.  Fortune 
had  shirked  the  task,  and  dealt  with 
them  equally.  There  was  to  be  no 
lucky  one. 

"£1,000,000  WILL  SUIT  TO-DAY." 

Daily  Mail. 
Or,  at  a  pinch,  would  suit  to-morrow,     j 


33 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  2,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  BORIS  GODOUKOV." 
THOSK  who  imagine  from  long  and 
bitter  experience  of  Grand  Opera  that 
singers  cannot  he  expected  to  act, 
should  at  once  correct  this  error  by  a 
visit  to  the  Russian  Company  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.  Certainly  M.  CHALIA- 
PINE'S  great  performance  is  proof  enough 
that  the  possession  of  a  voice  is  no  neces- 
sary bar  to  the  highest  dramatic  gifts. 
And  a  rare  delight  it  was,  after  the  cos- 
mopolitan medleys  of  Covent  Garden, 
to  hear  a  chorus  singing  their  national 
tongue  in  a  national  drama  and  wearing 
their  national  dress  as  to  the  manner 
born.  May  Heaven — if  not  Society — 
reward  Sir  JOSEPH  BEECHAM  ! 

MOUSSOUGSKY'S  work  calls  itself  a 
Music  Drama,  and  this  means,  of  course, 
that  the  dramatic  element  always  had 
its  chance.  The  action,  in  fact,  was 
not  there  to  illustrate  the  orchestra,  but 
the  orchestra  was  there  to  interpret 
the  action.  Yet  the  music  in  this  play 
of  forty  years  ago  still  retains  a  certain 
dominance  over  the  drama,  and  a  true 
compromise  between  the  two  arts,  as 
shown,  for  instance,  in  Puccini's  La 
Tosca,  is  still  only  foreshadowed.  For 
though  the  action  is  seldom  delayed 
for  the  sake  of  the  orchestra  (the  few 
superfluous  moments  that  Boris  wastes 
over  his  dying  are  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  interminable  prolixity  of 
Tristan's  decease),  no  sort  of  attempt  is 
made  to  give  logical  continuity  to  the 
plot.  The  designs,  for  instance,  of  the 
pretender  Grigori  are  of  the  haziest. 
He  starts  from  nowhere  in  particular 
and  disappears  into  the  inane.  And  the 
various  disjointed  scenes,  or  "  tableaux," 
are  obviously  selected  without  regard 
to  their  part  in  the  sequence  of  the 
scheme,  but  largely  for  the  musical 
opportunities  which  they  offer — here  a 
choral  effect,  there  a  casual  folk-song  or 
a  lament  for  a  lost  lover  that  nobody 
has  heard  of. 

It  was  impossible  therefore  to  be 
very  greatly  intrigued  about  the  issue, 
and  this  made  it  the  more  remarkable 
that  the  dramatic  intelligence  of  the 
actors  should  have  cast  so  strong  a 
spell  over  us.  M.  CHALIAPINE,  alike 
in  his  attitude  of  composed  dignity 
and  in  his  moments  of  hallucination 
induced  by  the  madness  of  remorse,  was 
a  splendid  and  noble  figure.  Next  to 
him  I  most  admired  the  charm  of 
Mme.  E.  PETRENKO  as  the  Tsarevitch's 
Nurse.  She  did  not  reappear  with  the 
others  to  take  our  plaudits,  and  I  was 
greatly  tempted  to  shout  "  Nurse ! 
Nurse  1 "  But  the  hour  was  getting 
late  and  I  feared  that  my  neighbours 
might  suspect  that  it  was  my  bed- 
time. Excellent  singing  was  done,  too, 


by  M.  ANDUEEW  as  an  old  monk,  and 
indeed  by  everyone,  though  I  found 
M.  DAMAEW  (as  Grigori)  too  nasal. 

The  music,  naturally  a  little  barbaric 
in  its  louder  colouring,  was  very  poig- 
nant in  the  simplicity  of  its  tenderer 
passages.  At  times  it  seemed  curiously 
to  anticipate  the  flowing  quality  of 
Madama  Butterfly. 

Miss  EOSA  NEWMARCH'S  libretto  was 
much  better  than  most  operatic  trans- 
lations, and  for  the  one-and-sixpcnce 
you  paid  for  it  they  threw  you  in  an 
astonishingly  generous  assortment  of 
misprints.  One  of  the  best  that  caught 
my  eye  occurs  in  the  duck-and-drake 
song  of  the  bonny  widow  : — • 

"  Sweetheart  mine  for  whom  I  wait, 
Come  console  me 
Quick,  your  bony  widow  woo." 

o.  s. 

THE    DEADLY    VIRTUE. 

"  You  will  go  shopping  with  me  to- 
morrow, won't  you?  "  said  Betty,  lifting 
her  head  from  his  shoulder  so  that  she 
might  look  at  him. 

Percival  started.  It  occurred  to  him 
that  Betty  had  fouled.  He  knew  that 
she  knew  that  he  hated  shopping.  To 
visit  shops  in  Eegent  Street  with  Betty 
was  to  feel  that  he  was  a  cypher — 
something  which  Betty  took  along  to 
hang  her  parcels  on,  and  as  a  foil  to 
her  own  stately  appearance. 

But  Percival  was  bland  and  good- 
tempered — he  was  probably  one  of  the 
best-tempered  men  who  have  ever  lived. 

"  Er — well,"  he  said,  "  I  "d  just  been 
thinking  that — that  we  hadn't  done 
any  shopping  for  a  long  time.  I  '11  be 
delighted." 

Then  Betty  made  a  terrible  blunder. 
She  took  Percival's  face  between  her 
hands  and  said,  "  I  knew  you  'd  say 
that.  You  're  the  best-tempered  man 
in  the  world.  There  never  was  a  saint 
with  such  a  good  temper." 

Now  to  be  called  good-tempered  is  to 
be  accused  by  implication  of  a  lack  of 
all  other  qualities  worthy  of  remark. 
It  is  to  be  dubbed  negligible,  and  Per- 
cival did  not  like  this. 

"No,"  he  said,  "no — I'm  not  like 
that.  I  'm  not  good-tempered." 

Daintily  Betty  laid  fingers  upon  his 
lips. 

"Don't  contradict  me,  dear,"  she 
returned.  "  Of  course  you  're  good- 
tempered.  It 's  the  thing  I  like  about 
you  best." 

"  I  'm  not,"  he  told  her,  still  smiling, 
but  with  a  suggestion  of  pain  in  his 
voice.  "  I  can't  allow  you  to  call  me 
that.  Please  withdraw  the  observation." 

"I  won't,"  said  Betty.  "  I 've  said 
that  you  have  the  sweetest  nature  any 
man  ever  had,  and  it 's  true." 

Percival  regarded  her  gravely .- 


"Betty/'  he  said,  "you  are  dis- 
appointing me.  You  call  me  good- 
tempered  while  all  the  time  I  know 
that  I  am  not.  I  am  cross-grained. 
At  the  least  thing  I  am  ready  to  do 
violence  and  to  say  terrible  words.  I 
am  the  plaything  of  my  passions.  If  I 
have  seemed  suave  and  courteous,  forget 
it.  It  was  only  a  mask.  And  now  you 
know  the  sort  of  man  I  am." 

She  did  not.  She  still  assumed  that 
ho  was  starting  some  new  sort  of  par- 
lour game.  So  she  stuck  to  her  point. 

"  I  know  1  'm  right,"  she  said.  "  But, 
anyhow,  don't  let 's  quarrel  over  it." 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  quarrel,"  he 
frowned  ;  "  but  I  object  to  being  called 
names.  I  am  not  good-tempered.  You 
hear?  1  am  the  worst-tempered  man 
in  London.  I  am  like  an  east  wind ;  I 
am  like  a  tornado ;  I  am  an  unbearable 
man." 

With  a  laugh,  the  first  symptom  of 
mild  hysteria,  Betty  moaned — 

"  You  are  not !  You  are  not !  You 
are  good  -  tempered  —  sweet  -  tempered. 
It 's  just  because  you  are  so  sweet- 
tempered  that  you  won't  admit  it." 

That  touched  Percival  on  the  raw. 

"  Be  quiet !  "  he  cried  out  on  a  note 
of  fury  ;  "  I  won't  stand  it !  Me  good- 
tempered.  I,  I  mean.  You  don't 
know  me !  Don't  argue  !  1  say  you 
don't  know  me." 

Betty  was  in  tears  now.  "  You  are 
good-tempered,"  she  sobbed.  "  Goo- 
good-tempered.  You  cou-couldn't  do 
an  unkind  thing  —  or  s-say  a  harsh 
word." 

Percival's  face  grew  red,  his  eyes 
fierce.  Madly  he  seized  an  encyclo- 
paedia from  the  table  and  crashed  it 
into  the  grate.  The  rattle  of  the  fire- 
irons  roused  him  to  an  access  of  wrath. 

"This  is  too  much!"  he  shouted, 
stretching  a  hand  out  for  another  hook. 
"  I  tell  you  I  am  not  gooJ-tempered. 
I  give  you  one  last  chanco  before  we 
part  for  ever.  Am  I  good-tempered?" 

She  bowed  her  head. 

Percival  stalked  up  to  her  and  glared 
into  her  eyes. 

"You  persist?"  ho  demanded 
throatily. 

Again  she  bowed  her  head.  With 
her  right  hand  she  fumbled  at  the  third 
finger  of  her  left.  Shakily  she  held  out 
the  engagement  ring. 

"Yes,"  she  told  him;  "and  please 
go.  I  hear  mother  coming  down. 
I  don't  want  her  to  see  you  in  this 
state." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  her  in  any 
state/' he  barked.  "Good-bye!  Iain 
a  bad-tempered  man  !  "  . 

In  a  moment  he  was  outside  in  the 
road.  A  little  innocent  dog  came 
trotting  up  to  him.  He  kicked  it  aside 
and  strode  on  into  the  gloom. 


JULY  2,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVA  III. 


Excited  Old  Lady  (as  express  thunders  through  station).  "OH,  PORTER,  DOESN'T  THAT  TRAIN  STOP  HERE?" 
Patient  Porter.  "  No,  LIDY  ;    IT  DON'T  EVEN  HESITATE." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
Eager  Eochford  was  the  missing  heir,  or  the  claimant, 
or  something  just  as  romantic,  to  the  estate  and  title  of 
Westwood.  Eosalind  Wynnstay  was  the  attractive  niece 
of  the  American  millionaire  who  had  rented  the  former. 
So  now  you  see  what  Eosalind  in  Arden  (DENT)  is  about. 
Anyhow,  you  see  the  end,  for  with  protagonists  so  situated 
it  would  be  as  much  as  a  circulating  library  subscription  is 
worth  not  to  leave  them  embracing  on  the  last  page.  Mr. 
.  MARRIOTT  WATSON  seems  to  have  been  not  only 
sensible  of  this,  but  (I  fancy)  somewhat  hard  put  to  it  to 
provide  them  with  six  shillings-worth  of  obstacle  to  the 
inevitable.  Indeed,  having  practically  finished  his  tale 
when  the  lovers  told  their  love  several  chapters  before  it 
should  be  commercially  due,  he  was  obliged  to  invent  a 
number  of  quite  tiresome  persons,  who  (like  the  works  of  a 
watch)  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  case,  in  order  that  they 
might  chatter  through  a  sufficiency  of  pages.  All  this  is 
only  to  say  that  I  found  Eosalind  in  Arden  a  dainty  and 
ttractive,  if  nob  strikingly  original,  short  story,  spoilt  by 
expansion  into  a  novel.  Also  the  process  seems  to  have 
been  hurried.  As  witness  this:— "At  the  registered  hour 
[Roger]  was  at  Charing  Cross  to  catch  the  boat  train  to 
Dover.  He  paid  no  heed  to  his  man,  but  recalled  him 
hen  ho  readied  the  Gare  St.  Lazare."  If  the  author  had 
paid  a  little  more  heed  to  his  proofs  this  would  never  have 
happened. 

The  first  few  strains  of  The  Common   Chord    (MARTIN 

SEE)  made  my  heart  sink.     For  I  found  that  PHYLLIS 

•SOTTOMK  had  apparently  arranged  for  me  to  meet  one  after 


girl  living  a  Bohemian  life  alone  in  a  studio,  and  a  hand- 
some young  man,  stupid  but  staunch,  who  loved  her  in 
vain.  I  felt  these  were  all  people  I  knew  well  enough  to 
wish  to  avoid ;  which  only  shows  once  more  the  danger  of 
judging  by  appearances.  It  was  the  fast  friendship  between 
Jean  Ucelle,  the  French  musician,  and  Jimmy  Armstrong, 
the  sturdy  Briton,  which  first  showed  me  that  Jean  at 
least  must  be  unusual,  and  I  soon  began  to  realise  that  for 
all  his  Gallic  charm  he  had  enough  Saxon  grit  (for  after  all 
he  had  an  English  mother)  to  gratify  my  insular  prejudice. 
Oh,  and  another  thing.  Jimmy,  who  might  so  well  have 
been  handicapped  in  his  rivalry  for  the  love  of  Judith  S. 
Calvert  by  the  possession  of  riches  or  noble  birth,  laboured 
under  no  such  unromantic  disabilities,  and  in  fact,  on  the 
score  of  prospects,  Jean  was  always  giving  away  a  pound  or 
two  of  weight ;  so  that  Judith,  who  was  quite  nice  enough 
for  either  of  them,  had  a  fair  choice.  Still,  she  naturally 
enough  chose  Jean,  though  there  were  nearly  some  serious 
complications  over  the  artistic  allurements  of  Sonia,  the 
great  Eussian  dancer  (need  she  have  danced  the  swan 
dance  ?  Are  there  not  swallows  and  humming  birds  ?),  for 
whom  Jean  wrote  the  music  which  "  caused  him  to  arrive." 
In  the  end  no  one  suffered  much  except  Jimmy,  and  I  am 
afraid  he  was  always  cut  out  for  silent  self-sacrifice,  so  that 
I  did  not  greatly  mind.  Altogether,  if  PHYLLIS  BOTTOME 
has  used  some  familiar  harmonies  in  building  up  her  novel, 
she  has  managed  to  arrange  them  with  unexpected  freshness, 
and  The  Common  Chord  should  on  no  account  be  lost. 

Perhaps  Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL,  author  of  the  admir- 
able Coniston  and  no  tyro,  therefore,  in  the  novelist's  art, 
has,  in  The  Inside  of  the  Cup  (MACMILLAN),  let  his  sinceri- 

•  1    »  1       *  TTT  II  ' 


apparently  arranged  for  me  to  meet  one  after  ties  run  away  with  him.    He  crowds  his  stage  with  so  many 
'inposcr-piamst  with  nerves,  a  beautiful  young  folk  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  keep  accurate  count  of 


40 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


2,  1913. 


[hem,  to  say  nothing  of  getting  comfortably  acquainted. 
His  tliemo  is  the  old  theme  of  the  generous  and  impatient 
modernists  of  every  age.  Why  preach  (and  finance)  Christi- 
anity and  conduct  lives  and  accept  principles  altogether 
opposed  to  it  ?  Why  polish  so  assiduously  the  outside  of 
the  cup  ?  His  hero,  John  Iloddcr,  is  a  sterling  parson  in  an 
important  Middle- West  American  city ;  his  villains,  Eldon 
Parr,  millionaire,  manipulator  and  pillar  of  the  Church, 
with  the  satellites  who  stand  in  with  the  big  man  in  the 
same  deals  and  worship  in  the  same  tabernacle.  His  heroine 
is  Kldon  Parr's  daughter  Alison,  a  lovable  character,  admir- 
ably drawn.  The  contending  forces  range  themselves  for  the 
contest — the  big  battalions  of  the  dollars  and  the  orthodoxies 
on  tlie  one  side,  the  modern  ideas  and  the  deep  sincerities 
on  the  other —with  a  precise  definition  which  it. is  the 
weakness  of  real  life  not  to  allow.  If  the  eagerness  of 
the  author's  convictions  shatters  the  respectable  quality  of 
detachment,  his  book  will  be  none  the  less  welcome  to 
those  who  are  sincerely  interestsd  in  the  always  recurring 
experiments  with  new 
wine  and  old  bottles. 
And  certainly  here  is  a 
tract  which  is  neither 
dull  nor  shallow. 


on  a  young  Englishwoman,  married  to  a  shrewd  but  stodgy 
solicitor,  when  she  comes  suddenly  in  contact  with  a  rather- 
fine  and  lawless  dweller-in  the  "  foothills  "  of  the  Far  West. 
These  two  last  are  the  Wilderness  Lovers,  and  I  found  their 
goings-on  rather. mawkish  and  Mr.  PUNSHON'S  reasonings 
thereon  a  trifle  dull  beside  the  breezy  go-ahead  movements 
of  the  financier.  Still,  there  are  the  two  things,  and  vou 
can  make  your  choice  which  you  will  skip.  There  is  very 
good  stuff  in  the  book  either  way. 


"  Give  a  dog  a  bad 
name  and  hang  him  "  is, 
for  a  proverb,  an  un- 
usually acute  estimate  of 
the  way  of  the  world. 
But  I  think  it  rather 
loses  its  point  when  it 
is  the- sad,  bad,  mad  dog 
who  christens  himself  a 
wrong 'un.  In  Barry 
and  a  Sinner  (SMITH, 
ELDER)  the  sinner  who 
tells  the  story  of  his  re- 
lations with  the  friend 
who  picks  him  out  of 
thegutterisnot  nearlyso 
black  as  he  paints  h  imself . 
He  was  too  much  inclined 
to  look  upon  the  wine 
when  it  is  red,  and  he  got 
six  months  for  abstracting  from  the  office  petty-cash  box  the 
wherewithal  to  back  a  horse  which  didn't  win.  But  beyond 
that  the  mud  which  he  keeps  flinging  at  himself  doesn't 
stick.  That,  of  course,  is  the  obvious  design  of  the  author, 
Mr.  JOHN  BAKNETT.  He  means  you  to  think  him  the  fine 
fellow  that  he  really  is.  But  this  left-handed  way  of 
drawing  a  hero,  or  rather  of  making  the  hero  paint  his  own 
picture,  using  the  darkest  possible  colours  for  the  shadows, 
gives  an  irritating  air  of  artificiality  to  the  greater  part  of 
the  story.  There  is  a  delightful  love  scene  at  the  end, 
and  nothing  in  the  sinner's  life  becomes  him  half  so  well 
as  the  manner  of  his  leaving  it  as  described  in  his  own 
words.  But  Mr.  BARNETT  sacrifices  too  much  in  order  to 
get  his  dramatic  climax. 


The  Wilderness  Lovers  (HODDEU  AND  STOUGHTON)  makes 
two  entirely  distinct  appeals  to  the  reader,  though  Mr. 
E.  E.  PUNSHON  has  done  his  best — and  a  very  good  best — . 
to  weave  them  into  one  story.  First  there  are  the  doings 
of  an  American  millionaire  who  talks  delightful  Yankee  and 
is  blissfully  convinced  that  the  angels  are  blind  to  the 
misery  his  operations  may  cause  so  long  as  he  endows  a 
church  or  builds  a  Sunday  School  with  part  of  the  profits. 
Then  there  is  a  psychological  study  of  the  effect  produced 


I  found  something  stimulatingly  colonial  about  Lu  of  the 
Ranges  (HEINEMANN).  There  is  a  fine  quality  of  youth  and 
vigour  in  Miss  ELEANOR  MORDAUNT'S  writing  that  invests 
with  fresh  interest  the  not  very  new  story  she  tells.  Lu 
herself  is  as  vital  a  heroine  as  you  need  wish.  We  first 
meet  her,  the  starving  child-mother  of  two  little  brothers 
on  the  Main  Ranges,  the  three  of  them  having  been 
abandoned  by  their  parents.  Then  comes  along  Julian  Ordc, 
wanderer,  cynic,  sentimentalist  and  incurable  egoist  (a  figure 

touched  in  with  admir- 
able success),  who  from 
the  natural  kindness  that 
is  in  him  rescues  the  little 
family  from  starvation, 
puts  Lu — much  to  her 
disgust — on  a  farm,  and 
j  finally,  after  a  period  of 
!  separation,  drifts  back  to 
j  her  with  results  that 
were  inevitable.  There 
follow  some  chapters 
dealing  with  a  hospital 
that  are  as  crudely  (and 
superfluously)  horrible 
as  anything  that  I  re- 
member in  recent  fiction. 
What  upheld  me  through 
them  was  the  certainty 
that  no  heroine  with  the 
gift  for  dancing  dis- 
played h}'  Lu  as  a  child 
of  nature  in  the  moun- 
tains would  ever  be 
allowed  to  end  without 
becoming  a  popular  idol 
of  the  stage.  Which  of  course  is  what  happens;  leading 
up  to  the  final  scene,  grimly  moving,  in  which  she  again 
meets  Orcle,  and,  dying,  he  commands  her  to  dance  again 
for  him  as  she  did  under  the  trees  in  their  youth.  There 
is  a  plenty  of  other  incidents ;  at  some  of  them  one  might 
perhaps  sneer  as  melodramatic,  but  the  whole  effect  is 
undeniably  robust.  For  this  and  for  the  character  of  Orde 
I  hail  the  book  as  one  that  promises  well  for  Australian 
literature. 


STUDIES  IN  CRIMINOLOGY. 

THE  CONFIDENCE  TRICK  WITH  A  LAY  FIGURE. 


The  plight  of  Colonel  SEELY'S  Territorial  Cavalry,  who 
are  not  to  bo  allowed  to  march  past  at  tho  Royal  Review, 
finds  a  touching  echo  in  the  state  of  things  at  Carlsbad, 
as  set  forth  with  considerable  pathos  in  the  local 
Herald :— 

' '  Some  of  our  old  cure-guests  who  use  to  come  here  regularly  year 
after  year,  will  surely  remind  themselves  of  those  donkey  cavalcades, 
which  formerly  walked  through  the  whole  town  and  how  great  tha 
pleasure  always  was  for  the  strangers  to  take  a  ride  on  those  donkeys. 
They  used  to  be  quite  a  splendid  specimen  of  donkeys  and  they 
belonged  to  the  town  stud.  These  times  seem  to  be  finally  over  now. 
Those  donkey-cavalcades  have  totally  disappeared.  As  far'as  they  are 
still  alive,  the  bearers  of  this  beautiful  donkey  period  are  to  bo  found 
in  tho  town  stable  for  donkeys.  There  are  very  few  who  live  still 
and  it  won't  be  long  till  also  the  last  of  their  race"  will  ba  dead." 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   TJLK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


SAYS 


CHARIVARIA. 
Mr.    BARRY    PAIN,    in     Mrs. 


Murphy.  "There's  illnesses  as  is  ill- 
nesses, and  there 's  illnesses  as  ain't. 
And  it 's  only  them  with  time  and 
money  to  spare  as  can  afford  the  ill- 
nesses as  ain't."  It  seems  almost  in- 
credible, but  Mr.  BARRY  PAIN  has  evi- 
dently not  heard  of  the  Insurance  Act. 

"Dr.  J.  Sinclair,"  it  is  announced, 
"  has  been  appointed  chief  medical 
officer  to  the  Post  Office."  The  work 
involved  must  be  peculiarly  arduous, 
for,  since  it  took  over  the  telephones, 
the  Post  Office  suffers  from 
more  complaints  than  any  other 
public  department. 

* 

With  reference  to  the  gentle- 
man who  recently  hoaxed  the 
London  Hospital  in  the  matter 
of  a  big  donation  to  its  funds, 
we  understand  that  the  medical 
staff  trust  that,  if  he  should  ever 
have  to  undergo  an  operation, 
he  will  place  himself  in  their 

hands. 

*  * 

* 

Negotiations  are  reported  to 
be  in  progress  for  the  purchase 
by  the  British  Government  of  an 
Unger  airship.  Meanwhile,  is 
anything  being  done  to  provide 
us  with  guns  capable  of  hitting 
aircraft?  We  need  not  only 
lingers,  but  also  Unger-Strikers. 
* ,  * 

A  swarm  of  bees  occupied  a 
post  -  office  letter  -  box  at  Sal- 
combe,  Devon,  one  day  last 
week.  A  Suffragette  is  sus- 
pected of  having  brought  them 
there  in  her  bonnet. 

*  * 

Croydon,  which  is  seeking  to 
extend  its  boundaries,  is  in  some 
fear  lest  the  borough  shall  be 
annexed  by  London.  This  would  be 
strenuously  resisted  by  Croydon,  and, 
'  as  it  is  thought  that  London  would 
probably  object  to  being  annexed  by 
Croydon,  it  is  possible  that  a  delicate 
situation  may  arise  before  long. 

An  elephant,  we  read,  figured  among 
the  presents  at  an  Eastbourne  wedding. 
We  suspect  it  was  a  white  one. 

The  Vicar  of  Sittingbourne,  Kent, 
we  learn  from  The  Express,  has  started 
a  "Bargemen's  Brotherhood,"  which 
already  numbers  fifty-seven  members, 
who  pledge  themselves  "  always  to 
attend  a  place  of  worship  once  on  the 
Sunday  when  on  shore,  and  to  endeavour 
not  to  swear."  The  word  in  italics  (ours) 
would  seem  to  point  to  a  compromise 


*  * 


having  been  arrived  at  in  the  negotia- 
tions between  the  reverend  gontlcnmii 
and  the  bargees.  %  ... 

It  is  announced  that,  in  spite  of  the 
considerable  expense  involved,  the  cross 
on  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  is  to  be  re- 
gilded.  To  the  credit  of  the  authorities 
an  ofl'er  by  an  American  commercial  man 
to  bear  the  cost  in  return  for  advertising 
rights  is  said  to  have  been  refused. 

A  costermonger's  donkey  was  killed 
by  a  motor  omnibus  in  the  Strand  last 
week.  It  must  have  been  an  unequal  poster  depicting  Mile.  POLAIRE. 


his,'  Heidelberg  Hood,  Clifton  Hill." 
This  must  have  boon  much  more  satis- 
factory than  keeping  back  the  news 
from  Miss  Howgato  until  the  wedding 
day. 


combat  from  the  beginning. 


The  fact  that  a  huge  signboard, 
advertising  "  Come  Over  Hero  "  at  the 
London  Opera  House,  fell  and  was 
wrecked  the  other  day,  reminds  us  that, 
when  France's  champion  prize-fighter 
appeared  in  the  Revue,  a  strip  of  paper 
announcing  "  Engagement  of  Georges 
Carpentier"  was  pasted  across  the 

So 


I  far,  no  damages  have  been  claimed  for 
breach.  .,.  .„      t 


In  an  age  when  tindor-dressing 
j  is  all  too  common,  it  is  grati- 
|.  fying'to  read  that  .the  monks  at 
I  the  monastery  of  St.  Michael  at 
!  Maikop,  in  the  Caucasus,  have 
i  gone  oh  strike  in  consequence  of 
|  ah  order  issued  by  their  Father 
Superior  prohibiting  them  from 

wearing  trousers. 

.i  *_p_* 

Last  year's  floods  in  Norfolk 
have  resulted  in  deposits  of  mud 
ia  the  Broads.  Norfolk  people, 
however,  are  not  easily  dis- 
couraged, and  \ve  may  expect 
shortly  to  see  some  such 
advertisement  as  this : — 
"WHY  GO  TO  THE  CONTINENT 

WHEN  YOU  CAS  GET 
EXCELLENT  MUD  BATHS 
IN  YOUR  OWN  Cousmv  ?  " 

Beading  that  the  Lowestoft 
drifter.  Lord  Wenlock,  realised 
£337  for  one  night's  work,  her 
catch  being  150  crans,  a  well- 
to-do  Gotham  man  asked  his 
fishmonger  to  obtain  a  cran  for 
him,  as  he  had  never  tasted  one. 

£     :;:     . 

Sir  EGBERT  ROGERS  has  taken 
We  are  not  allowed  to  comment  on  a  exception  to  the  toast-master's  having 
case  which,  at   the  time  of  going  to  !  announced  Sir  SAMUEL  EVANS  as  "  The 


Kind-hearted  Gentleman  (who  has  brought  a  pirement  artiit 
to  see  the  Academy).  "THERE  ABE  HUNDREDS  OP  BEAUTIFUL 

PICTURES   HEBE,   PAINTED   BY  HUNDREDS  OF  ARTISTS." 

Pavement  Ai 

OWN   WORK?  " 


press,  is  still  sub  judicc,  but  we  hope 
we  shall  not  get  into  trouble  for  draw- 
ing attention  to  the  following  head- 
lines which  appeared  in  The  Daily  Mail 
last  week : — 

"LADY   SACKVILLE 
ON    THE    SCOTTS. 

MR.   WALTER   SCOTT 
ON   HIS    KNEES." 

:;:     -;: 

If  The  Sydney  Herald  publishes  many 
paragraphs  like  the  following  we  are 
sorry  we  do  not  see  it  more  often : — 
"  Mr.  Herbert  Moss  has  returned  to 
Sydney.  His  engagement  (under  ro- 
mantic circumstances)  has  just  been 


President  of  the  Divorce  Court  "  at  tha 
Guildhall  Luncheon  to  the  French 
President.  "  Sammy  "  would  certainly 

have  sounded  more  genial. 
*,* 

We  are  authorised  to  deny  as  a  silly 
canard  the  report  that  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE  will  shortly  appear  in  a  Revue 
at  the  National  Liberal  Club,  entitled 
"  Halo  Ragtime." 

"  The  Brass  Band  arc  entering  for  the  Band 
Competition  at  the  coming  Feis  in  Mullingar. 
They  are,  however;  severely  handicapped  for 
want  o£  instruments." 

Westmeath  Independent. 

No  Brass  Band  of  spirit  would  let  a 


announced  to  Miss  Howgate,  of  'Glen  I  little  thing  like  that  worry  it. 


VOL.   CXLV. 


42 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


BETTER    THAN    A    PLAY. 

[Lines  addressed  to  a  waiter  at  a  restaurant  where  they  offer 
facilities  for  theatre-dinners.] 

NAT,  rush  mo  not,  Antonio;  let  me  savour 
This  C9ffee  a  la  Turquc  at  my  slow  ease, 
And  lap  this  blend  of  Benedictine  flavour 
Distilled  by  holy  friars  on  their  knees  ; 
Bring  me  a  brand  of  Cuba,  green  and  balmy, 

"With  gilded  cummerbund  and  long  and  fat ; 
I  have  no  play  to  see  to-night,  mon  ami, 
I  thank  my  gods  for  that. 

This  hour  to  inward  peace  is  dedicated  ; 

To-night  I  will  escape  that  captious  mood 
Which  comes  of  healthy  appetite  unsated 

Or  else  the  bitter  pangs  of  bolted  food. 
Lingering  meals,  with  choice  cigars  for  sequel, 

Suit  my  digestive  system  better  far ; 
I  have  seen  many  plays,  but  few  to  equal 
A  really  good  cigar. 

And  then  compare  the  charges !     For  a  scanty 
Stall  I  must  put  my  demi-guinea  down, 

"Whereas  this  full  and  generous  "  Elegante  " 
Costs  me  the  paltry  sum  of  half-a-crown ; 

And,  as  I  smoke  it,  I  may  hold  a  quiet 
Duologue  with  myself,  of  fancy  wrought, 

"Where  no  intruding  mummers,  making  riot, 
Distract  my  train  of  thought. 

It  is,  I  own,  an  honourable  calling, 

That  of  the  histrion  ;  I  respect  his  art ; 

The  grind,  I  always  think,  must  be  appalling 
Of  getting  such  a  lot  of  words  by  heart ; 

I  would  not  seem,  for  worlds,  to  cast  suspicion 
Upon  his  shining  claims  ;  I  but  protest 

He  cannot  stand  the  strain  of  competition 
With  one  of  Cuba's  best. 

But  when  the  ferment  of  my  peptic  juices 

Begins,  my  good  Antonio,  to  abate, 
Letting  my  brain,  now  blind  to  Thespian  uses, 

Enter  upon  a  more  receptive  state, 
Lest  you  should  deem  that  I  have  touched  too  lightly 

On  sacred  matters,  I  will  move  along  ' 
To  where  they  give  two  exhibitions  nightly, 

And  hear  a  comic  song.  O.  S. 


ONCE  "UPON   A  TIME. 

CIVILIZATION. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man  who  was  tired  ol 
hurry  and  fret  and  competition  and  politics  and  fashion 
and  modernity.  Above  all  he  was  tired  of  newspapers. 

"  I  will,"  he  said,  "  betake  me  to  the  wilderness  for  a 
while  and  get  back  a  little  peace  and  simplicity." 

But  the  first  thing  that  he  saw  on  reaching  the  wilder- 
ness was  the  office  of  The  Wilderness  Gazette. 


From  a  circular : — 

"Briefly,  Pellidol  is  diacetylamidoazo toluol." 
If  the  writer  is  really  aiming  at  brevity,  he  must  try  again 


"Only  one  of  the  officers  is  now  living  who  took  part  in  the 
'  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  '  at  Balaclava  ;  but  there  are  probably 
still  1,500  of  the  privates  on  earth  who  took  part  in  that  grea* 
historical  event."— Greenwood  (B.C.)  Lcdyc. 

All  that  was  left  of  them — left  of  six  hundred. 


THE    CREATIVE    GIFT. 

["  A  character  will  every  now  and  then  seem  to  take  the  bit  between 
his  teeth  and  say  and  do  things  for  which  his  creator  feels  himself 
ardly  responsible." — WILLIAM  ARCHER.'} 

THE  budding  dramatist  looked  again  at  the  passage  in 
;he  Playwright's  Manual.     Yes,  there  it  was  in  cold  print. 
"  Once   your  characters  are  clearly  in  your   mind,"  he 
•ead,  "  you  can  let  them  work  out    their  own  salvation. 
They,  not  you,  will  construct  the  play.     The  late  Clyde 
Jitcli  used   to   insist   that  his  characters  often  surpi 
lim  by  their  actions." 

The  budding  dramatist  breathed  hard.  This  was  a  new 
gospel  to  him;  he  had  been  on  the  wrong  track  from  Uio 
start.  Clearly  the  proper  course  was  to  individualize  the 
characters  mentally,  to  decide  on  the  opening  scene,  and 
,hen  to  sit  back  in  a  receptive  mood  and  record  the  actions 
of  the  children  of  his  party.  At  last  he  could  begin  on 
To-Morrow,  his  great  dramatization  of  Laziness ;  for  ah  f 
;he  character  of  Lv.cius  Doolittlo  was  clearly  in  his  head. 
How,  then,  should  the  play  open  ?  Once  this  was  decided, 

could  liberate  Lucius  and  let  him  go  his  own  way. 

At  exactly  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning  a  splendid  idea 
'or  the  beginning  of  Act  I.  presented  itself.  Scene :  Morning 
in  Lucius  Doolittle's  bachelor  apartments.  An  alarm  c 
heard  ringing  without.  Lucius  in  his  pyjamas  emerges  / 
Ms  bedroom  door,  and  lighting  a  cigarette  (character  touch) 
strolls  listlessly  toicard  the  bath.  A  great  beginning :  true 
io  every-day  life  and  yet  unusual.  Not  a  soul  in  the 
audience  but  would  be  startled  into  attention  by  the 
insistent  tinkle  of  the  alarm.  What  psychology !  And 
later,  perhaps,  the  audience  could  actually  hear  Lucius' s 
oath  running.  Uncompromising  realism  ! 

Such  was  the  budding  dramatist's  fever  of  excitement 
that  lie  could  hardly  wait  to  scramble  into  his  clothes  and  to 
pounce  upon  his  bacon  and  eggs  before  beginning  the  work 
af  a  lifetime.  At  last  all  was  ready — his  pen  chosen,  his 
paper  ranged  before  him.  Trembling  with  excitement  he 
proceeded  to  focus  his  inner  eye  upon  Lucius  Doolittle, 
who  was  to  choose  his  own  path  through  the  piece 
unhindered.  Cautiously  he  wrote  as  follows :  "  lime- 
early  morning.  Doolittle's  apartments  are  in  disorder. 
Glasses  and  a  half-emptied  bottle  stand  on  the  centre-table; 
beside  them  lies  a  pack  of  cards.  There  is  nobody  in  the 
room ;  Doolittle  is  obviously  not  yet  up." 

The  dramatist  paused,  and  with  a  little  gasp  of  excite- 
ment set  down  these  words: — 

"  An  alarm  clock  is  heard  ringing  without." 

He  waited,  eyes  shut. 

"  Now,  Lucius,  go  it,"  he  murmured. 

Somehow  in  his  inner  consciousness  he  could  feel 
Doolittle  stirring,  waking.  What  was  the  character  saying  ? 
Wait — here  it  was !  Slowly  the  dramatist's  hand  traced 
the  words  as  if  fiom  dictation : — 

Voice  of  Doolittle  (within),    "Bl the  clock;  I'm  going 

to  sleep  again."  [Long  pause. 

CUHTAIN. 

The  dramatist  looked  at  the  finished  work  doubtfully, 
critically. 

"  It 's  a  short  Act,"  he  muttered,  "  but  I  like  the  method. 
It  certainly  shows  up  the  man  Doolittle." 


"  Stuff  the  shoes  with  paper,  then  dip  a  rag  in  turpentine  and  rub 
the  suede.     Continue  rubbing,  turning  the  rag  when  soiled,  till 
shoes  look  quite  clean.     Then  hang  in  a  current  of  air  to  remove 
the  smell  of  the  turpentine." — North  Star. 

If  on  descending  from  this  breezy  position  you  find  that  the 
odour  still  remains,  have  a  hot  bath  and  change  all  your 
clothes. 


PUNCH,   OR  Til!'!   LONDON  CHAM VARL— JULY  9,   1913. 


THEIR    ANNUAL    TREAT. 

IUISH  AND  WELSH  BILLS  (to  Chuckcr-out).  "WELL,    HEBE    WE    ARE    AGAIN!" 


JULY  H, 


PUNCH,    OR   THH   LONDON    rilAUIVAIM. 


Club  Hall-porter.  "Gooo  KIOIIT,  Sm ;    AXD  KO  STEP  AT  TUB  uooii. 


ANOTHER    INJUSTICE. 

BEING  -in  the  thick  of  a  temporary 
embarrassment,  and  having,  as  it 
seemed,  run  upon  the  rocks  at  the 
precise  moment  that  all  my  friends 
;uid  relations  had  performed  a  similar 
Icat,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
seek  professional  aid. 

On  asking  the  advice  of  one  to 
whom  all  such  mysteries  are  an  open 
hook,  I  was  directed  to  an  upper  room 
in  Jermyn  Street. 

The  second  floor,  he  had  told  me; 
hut  when  I  reached  it  and  found  no 
name  on  the  door  but  plain 


AARON  BREITSTEIN 


I  felt  convinced  there  had  been  some 
mistake.  For  only  that  morning  had  I 
not  been  reading  about  Lord  NEWTON'S 
Moneylenders  Bill,  the  point  of  which 
is  that  no  moneylender  at  the  present 
time  would  dream  of  having  anything 
hut  a  Christian  —  or,  if  possible,  a 
Scotch — name. 

I  was  therefore  boating  a  retreat, 
when  the  door  opened  and  I  was  asked 
if  I  was  looking  for  anything.  To  the 


blond,  muscular,  snub-nosed  and  very 
obvious  Anglo-Saxon  gentleman  who 
put  the  question  I  replied  that  I  was 
in  search  of  one  whose  privilege  and 
pleasure  it  was  to  assist  his  fellows  in 
times  of  financial  stress. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said  ;  "  that 's  what 
I  'm  jolly  well  here  for." 

I  held  my  swimming  head. 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  how  can  you  be  a 
moneylender  when  your  name  is  Aaron 
Breitstein  ?  It 's  impossible.  If  your 
name  was  Aaron  Breitstein  you  would 
have  to  change  it  in  order  to  succeed 
in  such  a  business.  You  would  call 
yourself  Graham  or  Moffatt  or  Bunty 
or  Archer  or  Eosslyn  or  Harmsworth 
or  Pearson.  I  know ;  I  have  been 
reading  the  aliases  in  the  daily  press 
only  this  morning." 

"  My  real  name  is  not  Aaron  Breit- 
stein," he  said.  "  That 's  only  my 
business  name." 

"  What  is  your  real  name  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  John  George  Albion,"  he  said. 

"  But  if  that 's  your  real  name,"  I 
replied,  "  you  must  be  English,  and 
indeed  you  look  it ;  and  how  can  an 
Englishman  be  a  moneylender  ?  It 's 
not  done." 


"  I  'm  merely  an  innovator,"  he  said. 
"  I  want  to  be  in  the  van.  Seeing  this 
change  coming  I  decided  to  be  the  first 
I  moneylender  with  a  frankly  Semitic 
name,  and  so  I  opened  this  office  right 
away  in  order  to  get  a  start  of  all  the 
'  Scotchmen '  when  they  have  to  revert 
to  their  true  style." 

"  But  your  triumph  cannot  last  long," 
I  reminded  him ;  "  for  you  '11  have  to 
change  back  too." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  he  said.  "  1  don't 
expect  to  be  worried  very  much.  Only 
the  suspected  are  under  suspicion,  you 
know." 

"True,"  I  said. 

"  Meanwhile,"  he  continued,  "  how 
much  do  you  want  ?  " 

I  told  him. 

"  Your  name  and  address  ?  "  he  added, 
looking  me  full  in  the  face. 

I  smiled  as  I  gave  them,  and  he 
smiled  as  he  wrote  them  down. 

"Ah!"  ho  said,  "Lord  NEWTON  is 
very  solicitous  for  the  health  of  tlii 
public,  but  what  about  the  piiW'c's 
friends  in  need?  What  about  monfy- 
borrowers'  aliases  ?  That 's  where  >rt 
suffer,  and  no  peer  will  ever  do  any- 
thing to  protect  us." 


46 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


A    CHEAP    DIVERSION. 

"LET'S  GO  TO  THE  MUSIC-HALL?"  "NAY/." 

"LET'S  GO  TO  THE   SINNEMER,   THEN?"  "NAW." 

"WELL,  COME  ON,  LET'S  GO  AND  SEE  MY  PANEL  DOCTOR?  "  "RiGHT-o.1 


RURAL  REVELRY. 

(Vide  Local  Press  passim.) 
ON  Friday  last  the  annual  outing  of 
the  Titteringham  Literary  Society  was 
held  in  perfect  weather,  to  the  complete 
satisfaction  of  all  who  were  privileged 
to  participate  therein.  Hitherto  the 
members  have  fared  forth  on  their 
annual  expeditions  in  horse  -  drawn 
vehicles,  usually  of  the  waggonette 
type,  but  on  this  occasion  a  new  de- 
parture was  made,  and  the  Society 
availed  themselves  of  the  new  and 
commodious  motor-brake  recently  ac- 
quired by  Messrs.  Docking  and  Posh. 
Mr.  Jno.  Posh,  Junr.,  was  at  the  wheel, 


and  his  tactful  execution  of  his  chauf- 
ferial  functions  elicited  the  warmest 
encomiums,  the  list  of  casualties  being 
confined  to  one  hedgehog,  for  which  no 
claim  was  preferred. 

An  excellent  start  was  effected  at 
10.30  A.M.  from  the  "  Hammer  and 
Tongs  Inn,"  and  in  less  than  an  hour 
the  splendidly  upholstered  vehicle, 
gliding  swiftly  over  the  well-appointed 
road,  drew  up  at  the  entrance  to  New- 
bottle  Abbey.  A  special  feature  of  these 
excursions  is  the  excellent  practice  of 
allotting  each  place  visited  to  a  member 
with  special  antiquarian  knowledge. 
On  this  occasion  it  fell  to  the  lot  of 
our  esteemed  fellow-citizen,  Mr.  Ezra 


Tipple,  to  discourse  on  the  beauties  of 
Nevvbottle  Abbey ;  and  right  eloquently 
did  he  avail  himself  of  his  opportunities. 
Mr.  Tipple  gave  a  short  and  masterly 
sketch  of  the  original  Roman  camp  of 
Novo-Bottilium,  on  the  site  of  which  the 
Abbey  was  subsequently  built  by  Goswy, 
King  of  Northumbria.  Later  on,  when 
KING  JOHN  was  on  his  disastrous  march 
to  the  Wash,  he  was  entertained  with 
lavish  hospitality  by  the  Abbot,  and  in 
return  for  a  magnificent  dish  of  carp, 
which  were  served  up  to  the  royal 
epicure,  the  Abbey  received  the  right 
to  adopt  the  somewhat  pagan  motto  of 
Carpe  diem.  Proceeding  thence  to 
Stuttingford  the  party  partook  of  an 
excellent  luncheon  at  the  "  Gray  Goose 
Hotel,"  where  mine  host  (Mr.  Jonah 
Bulpitt)  literally  surpassed  himself  in 
the  amplitude  of  the  menu  provided. 

Before  leaving  Stuttingford  on  the 
return  journey,  the  Society  spent  a 
delightful  hour  in  the  Free  Library, 
where  Mr.  Widgery  Bamber,  the 
librarian,  did  the  honours  of  the  in- 
stitution, and  Mr.  Theophilus  Moult 
delivered  an  interesting  address  on  the 
principal  branches  of  local  manufacture, 
viz.,  cotton,  linen,  canvas  for  sails, 
sacking,  candlewicks,  hats,  axes,  adzes, 
spades,  hoes,  and  sickles.  The  chief 
articles  of  export,  in  addition  to  some 
of  the  above,  are  wool,  grain,  butter, 
bath-chairs,  gunpowder,  golf-balls,  pig- 
iron,  crinolines  (for  Central  Africa), 
swoggles  and  bobbins.  On  the  motion 
of  Mr.  Hatherley  Goole  a  vote  of  thanks 
was  passed  to  Mr.  Moult  for  his  lucid 
and  illuminating  address. 

Having  partaken  of  lunch  at  Stutting- 
ford the  party  were  delighted  to  find 
tea  provided  for  them  on  reaching 
Tittenhanger  at  4.45  P.M.,  Messrs. 
Pottle  and  Sons,  the  well-known 
caterers  of  Wigborough,  having  pur- 
veyed the  repast,  which  included 
shrimps  and  cherries  as  hors  d'aiuurc. 
When  repletion  had  supervened  the 
party  migrated  to  the  monastery,  where 
the  .Rev.  John  Bluck,  whose  services  as 
cicerone  were  greatly  appreciated,  gave 
a  vivid  account  of  this  great  but  now 
derelict  foundation.  In  the  days  of 
HENBY  VII.  the  staff  included  an 
arch-mandible,  seventeen  wapentakers, 
twenty  halberdiers,  several  seneschals, 
and  a  deputy  swan-marker.  The  soil 
is  chiefly  clay  and  the  land  is  in  many 
parts  swampy,  but  remarkably  fine 
lobsters  are  bred  in  the  river ;  the  air  is 
salubrious  and  the  surrounding  scenery 
of  pleasing  character.  Several  human 
bones  were  dug  up  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  the  gatehouse,  which 
is  a  fine  specimen  of  mid-Victorian 
flamboyant  style,  with  machicolated 
transoms  and  garbled  triforiurn. 

On  an  excursion  of  this  sort  not  much 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


•PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARtVAUf. 


47 


* 


('   -7'      .XV^-^ 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    OLYMPIC    TALENT. 

AN  ENTHUSIAST   (\VIIO  HAS  THE  FUTURE  OP  BRITAIN   VERY  MUCH  AT  HEART)   TIMING  A  WEU3HKR  OVER  THE   200  MKIUES. 


time  is  available  for  the  collector,  but 
while  the  Stuttlebury  woods  were 
being  explored  specimens  were  obtained 
of  the  lesser  pimpernel,  the  striped  or 
deadly  pipsqueak,  stuntwort,  talking 
nettle,  and  friable  rock-bane,  also 
•known- as  the  vegetable  lamprey.  Mr. 
Josiah  Povey  also  brought  back  with 
him  two  horseshoes,  three  gutty  golf- 
balls,  probably  dating  from  the  early 
'nineties,  a  disused  sprocket-wheel,  and 
a  pair  of  Argosy  braces. 

A  halt  was  made  on  the  return 
journey  at  the  parish  church  of  Great 
Snoring,-  which  the  Rev.  John  Bluck 
described  as  one  of  the  stateliest  monu- 
ments of  the  Decorated  Soporific  school 
of  art.  Within  a  mile  of  home  the 
complete  success  of  the  excursion  was 
very  nearly  impaired  by  a  serious  acci- 
dent. Mr.  Timothy  Wanlip,  junr.,  who 
had  partaken  heartily  of  shrimps,  was 
suddenly  seized  with  what  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEOROE  elegantly  calls  "cross-Channel" 
symptoms,  and  fell  from  the  box-seat. 
Fortunately  the  brake  had  been  fitted 
only  the  day  before  by  Messrs.  Brackley 
and  Jeeves  with  a  cowscraper,  which 
most  efficiently  prevented  Mr.  Wanlip, 
junr.,  from  being  crushed  tinder  the 
wheels.  Restoratives  were  promptly 
administered  by  our  good  friend  Mr. 
Hugo  Trotter,  "L.P.S.,  and  the  liotne- 
wanl  journey  was  completed  without 
any  further  contretemps. 


THE   DAVID-AND-JONATHAN 
BRIGADE. 

"  THE  affectionate  relations  between 
Mr.  CHURCHILL  and  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE,"  says  The  Star,  "  was  (sic) 
noted  in  various  little  ways  at  the 
National  Liberal  Club  outside  the 
speeches.  As  they  left  the  room  Mr. 
CHURCHILL  was  assuring  Mr.  GEORGE, 
'You're  the  man  for  us,'  and  patting 
him  on  the  back." 

The  almost  doglike  devotion  that 
Mr.  ASQUITH  displays  at  all  times 
towards  Mr.  JOHN  REDMOND  received 
a  charming  illustration  during  the 
division  on  the  Third  Reading  of  the 
Ministerial  Investments  Bill.  As  they 
returned  from  the  Lobby  the  PREMIER 
was  holding  on  to  the  Irish  Leader's 
hand  and,  looking  wistfully  up  into  his 
eyes,  was  heard  to  remark,  "  Where 
should  wo  be  without  you  ?  " 

Sir  MAURICE  LEVY  and  Mr.  RAMSAY 
MACDONALD,  it  is  well  known,  are  bosom 
friends  and  enjoy  each  other's  confi- 
dence in  a  remarkable  degree.  The 
depth  of  the  feeling  existing  between 
them  was  made  apparent  to  passers-by 
the  other  day  when,  standing  outside 
the  Leicester  Lounge,  the  Radical 
plutocrat  placed  his  arm  round  his 
colleague's  neck  and  murmured  in  his 
ear,  "  RAMSAY,  you  're  the  limit !  " 

Mr.  LEWIS  HABCOUHT  and  Mr.  JOHN 


BURNS  are,  of  course,  inseparable.  Only 
the  other  day,  as  the-y  strolled  together 
across  Palace  Yard,  the  COLONIAL  SEC- 
RETARY was  observed  to  punch  his  ccm- 
rade  in  the  ribs  and  shout  admiringly, 
"  Ho,  you  are  a  one !  " 


THE    STORY    BOOK. 

["It  is  announced  in  an  American  news- 
paper that  a  lion's  egg,  laid  at  Shuqualak, 
Mississippi,  had  the  words  '  Watch  and  pray' 
plainly  visible  and  somewhat  raised  abo\e  the 
surface  of  the  shell.  Tho  '  W  '  and  :  1* '  were 
in  capital  letters."] 

A  VOLUME  most  delightful 

I  'm  happy  to  possess, 
Of  pasted  cuttings  quite  full 

Collected  from  the  Press ; 
For  years  I  've  kept  it  going, 

Preserving  thus  intact 
The  fictions,  glib  and  flowing, 

Retailed  to  us  as  fact. 

The  range  of  choice  is  ample, 

But  one  I  chiefly  love — 
The  staggering  example 

That 's  reproduced  above ; 
I  've  sought  in  each  direction, 

But  none  with  this  can  vie, 
The  gem  of  my  collection, 

The  Very  Biggest  Lie. 


Letter  from  a  parent  to  a  Bridlington 
schoolmistress : — 

"Dear  Miss , — Dorothy's  al>sen«o  was 

required  at  home  yesterday  afternoon. — J.F." 


48 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


LOT    176. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  want,"  I  said  to 
Henry,  "  an  opera  hat  that  doesn't  op  ? 
At  least  it  only  works  on  one  side." 

"  No,"  said  Henry. 

"  To  anyone  who  buys  my  opera  hat 
for  a  large  sum  I  am  giving  away  four 
square  yards  of  linoleum,  a  revolving 
bookcase,  two  curtain  rods,  a  pair  of 
spring-grip  dumb-bells  and  an  extremely 
patent  mouse-trap." 

"  No,"  said  Henry  again. 

"  The  mouse-trap,"  I  pleaded,  "  is 
unused.  That  is  to  say,  no  mouse  has 
used  it  yet.  My  mouse-trap  has  never 
been  blooded." 

"  I  don't  want  it  myself,"  said  Henry, 
"  but  I  know  a  man  who  does." 

"  Henry,  you  know  everybody.  For 
Heaven's  sake  introduce  me  to  your 
friend.  Why  does  he  particularly  want 
a  mouse-trap  ?  " 

"  He  doesn't.  He  wants  anything 
that's  old.  Old  clothes,  old  carpets, 
anything  that 's  old  he  '11  buy." 

He  seemed  to  be  exactly  the  man  I 
wanted. 

"  Introduce  me  to  your  fellow  club- 
man," I  said  firmly. 

That  evening  I  wrote  to  Henry's 
friend,  Mr.  Bennett.  "Dear  Sir,"  I 
wrote,  "  if  you  would  call  upon  me  to- 
morrow I  should  like  to  show  you  some 
really  old  things,  all  genuine  antiques. 
In  particular  I  would  call  your  atten- 
tion to  an  old  opera  hat  of  exquisite 
workmanship  and  a  mouse-trap  of 
chaste  and  handsome  design.  I  have 
also  a  few  yards  of  Queen  Anne  lino- 
leum of  a  circular  pattern  which  I 
think  will  please  you.  My  James  the 
First  spring-grip  dumb-bells  and  Louis 
Quatorze  curtain-rods  are  well  known 
to  connoisseurs.  A  genuine  old  cork 
bedroom  suite,  comprising  one  bath- 
mat,  will  also  be  included  in  the  sale. 
Yours  faithfully." 

On  second  thoughts  I  tore  the  letter 
up  and  sent  Mr.  Bennett  a  postcard 
asking  him  to  favour  the  undersigned 
with  a  call  at  10.30  prompt.  And  at 
10.30  prompt  he  came. 

I  had  expected  to  see  a  bearded 
patriarch  with  a  hooked  nose  and 
three  hats  on  his  head,  but  Mr.  Bennett 
turned  out  to  be  a  very  spruce  gentle- 
man, wearing  (I  was  sorry  to  see)  much 
better  clothes  than  the  opera  hat  1 
proposed  to  sell  him.  He  became 
businesslike  at  once. 

"  Just  tell  me  what  you  want  to 
sell,"  he  said,  whipping  out  a  pocket- 
book,  "  and  I  '11  make  a  note  of  it. 
take  anything." 

I  looked  round  my  spacious  apartment 
and  wondered  what  to  begin  with. 

"  The  revolving  bookcase,"  I  an- 
nounced. 


"  I  'rn  afraid  there  's  very  little  sale 
[or  revolving  bookcases  now,"  he  said, 
as  he  made  a  note  of  it. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  pointed  out, 
"  this  one  doesn't  revolve.  It  got  stuck 
some  years  ago." 

He  didn't  seem  to  think  that  this 
would  increase  the  rush,  but  he  made 
a  note  of  it. 

"  Then  the  writing-desk." 
"The  what?" 

"The  Georgian  bureau.     A  copy  of 
an  old  twentieth-century  escritoire." 
"  Walnut?  "  he  said,  tapping  it. 
"  Possibly.       The     value      of     this 
eorgian   writing-desk,   however,    lies 
not  in  the  wood   but   in   the  literary 
associations." 

"Ah!  My  customers  don't  bother 
much  about  that,  but  still — whose  was 
it?" 

"  Mine,"  I  said  with  dignity,  placing 
my  hand  in  the  breast  pocket  of  my 
coat.  "  I  have  written  many  charming 
things  at  that  desk.  My  '  Ode  to  a 
Bell-push,'  my  'Thoughts  on  Asia,' 
my- — •" 

"  Anything  else  in  this  room  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Bennett.     "  Carpet,  curtains — 
"  Nothing  else,"  I  said  coldly. 
We   went    into    the    bedroom   and, 
gazing  on  the  linoleum,  my  enthusiasm 
returned  to  me. 

"  The  linoleum,"  I  said  with  a  wave 
of  the  hand. 

"Very  much  worn,"  said  Mr.  Bennett. 
I  called  his   attention   to  the  piece 
under  the  bed. 

"  Not  under  there,"  I  said.  "I  never 
walk  on  that  piece.  It 's  as  good  as 
new." 

He  made  a  note.  "  What  else  ?  "  he 
said. 

I  showed  him  round  the  collection. 
He  saw  the  Louis  Quatorze  curtain- 
rods,  the  cork  bedroom  suite,  the 
Caesarian  nail-brush  (quite  bald),  the 
antique  shaving-mirror  with  genuine 
crack — he  saw  it  all.  And  then  we 
went  back  into  the  other  rooms  and 
found  some  more  things  for  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  consulting  his  note- 
book. "  And  now  how  would  you  like 
me  to  buy  these  ?  " 

"  At  a  large  price,"  I  said.  "  If  you 
have  brought  your  cheque-book  I  '11 
lend  you  a  pen." 

"  You  want  me  to  make  you  an 
offer?  Otherwise  I  should  sell  them 
by  auction  for  you,  deducting  ten  pei 
cent,  commission." 

"  Not  by  auction,"  I  said  impulsively 
"  I  couldn't  bear  to  know  how  much 
or  rather  how  little,  my  Georgian 
bureau  fetched.  It  was  there,  as  1 
think  I  told  you,  that  I  wrote  my 
'  Guide  to  the  Bound  Pond.'  Give  me 
an  inclusive  price  for  the  lot,  and  never 
never  let  mo  know  the  details." 


He  named  an  inclusive  price.  It  was 
something  under  a  hundred-and-fifty 
iounds.  I  shouldn't  have  minded  that 
f  it  had  only  been  a  little  over  ten 
sounds.  But  it  wasn't. 

"  Eight,"  I  agreed.  "  And,  oh,  I  was 
nearly  forgetting.  There 's  an  old 
opera  hat  of  exquisite  workmanship, 
which — 

"  All,  now,  clothes  had  much  better  be 
sold  by  auction.    Make  a  pile  of  all  you 
don't  want  and  I  '11  send  round  a  sack 
or  them.    I  have  an  auction  sale  every 
Wednesday." 

"  Very  well.  Send  round  to-morrow. 
And  you  might — er — also  send  round 
a — er— cheque  for — quite  so.  Well, 
.hen,  good  morning." 

When  he  had  gone  I  went  into  my 
jedroom  and  made  a  pile  of  my  opera- 
lat.  It  didn't  look  very  impressive — 
hardly  worth  having  a  sack  specially 
sent  round  for  it.  To  keep  it  company 
[  collected  an  assortment  of  clothes. 
ft  pained  me  to  break  up  my  wardrobe 
n  this  way,  but  I  wanted  the  bidding 
ror  my  opera-hat  to  be  brisk,  and  a 
lew  preliminary  suits  would  warm  the 
public  up.  Altogether  it  was  a  goodly 
pile  when  it  was  done.  The  opera-hat 
perched  on  the  top,  half  of  it  only  at 
work. 

#  *  *  #  # 

To-day  I  received  from  Mr.  Bennett 
a  cheque,  a  catalogue  and  an  account. 
The  catalogue  was  marked  "  Lots  172- 
179."  Somehow  I  felt  that  my  opera 
hat  would  be  Lot  176.  I  turned  to  it 
in  the  account. 

"  Lot  176— Six  shillings." 

"  It  did  well,"  I  said.  "  Perhaps  in 
my  heart  of  hearts  I  hoped  for  seven 
and  sixpence,  but  six  shillings — yes,  it 
was  a  good  hat." 

And  then  I  turned  to  the  catalogue. 

"Lot  1 76 — Frock  coat  and  vest,  dress 
coat  and  vest,  ditto,  pair  of  trousers 
and  opera  hat." 

"And  opera  hat."  Well,  well.  At 
least  it  had  the  position  of  honour  at 
the  end.  My  opera  hat  was  starred. 

A.  A.  M. 


Also  Ban. 

"Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lloyd  George  were  present 
at  a  performance  of  '  La  Boheme,'  given  at 
Covent  Garden  on  Monday  night,  when  Melba 
and  Caruso  were  never  heard  to  such  good 
advantage.  Tho  King  and  Queen  wcro  also 
present." — Carnarvon  Herald. 


"  'Cynic,'  'iconoclast,'  'wanton' — all  these 
terms,  and  many  more,  have  been  applied  to 
Bernard  Shaw  from  the  time  when  his  Widows' 
Houses  was  produced  down  to  the  present." 
The  Sunday  Times  (Sydney). 

But  you  ought  to  have  heard  the  things 
they  said  when  his  Widowers'  Houses 
was  produced. 


JCI.Y  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


49 


THE    MARCONI 


INFLUENCE. 

I   TJTTEBLY    FAIL    TO    UNDERSTAND    WHAT    CAN    HAVE 


Inspecting  Officer  (to  captain  who  IMS  been  captured  with  his  entire  company). 

INDUCED  YOU   TO  EXPOSE  YOUR  COMPANY   INSTEAD  OF  TAKING   COVER." 

Captain  Feddup.  "WELL,  Sin,  I  MAY  HAVE  ACTED  THOUGHTLESSLY,  I  MAY  HAVE  ACTED  CAEELESSLY,  MISTAKENLY;   BUT  I  HAVE 

ACTED  INNOCENTLY,    HONESTLY,   AND,    AS    YOU  SEE,    OPENLY." 


A   HIGHLAND   SOLITUDE; 

OB,  SACRIFICED  TO  MAKE  A  SPORTSMAN'S 

HOLIDAY. 

(Being  a  poignant  illustration  of  the 
darker  aspects  of  life  on  a  sporting 
estate.) 

IT  was  generally  understood  in  the 
hotel  that  Mr.  Ezekiel  Thornton,  of 
Salford,  was  studying  social  conditions 
from  a  Eaclical  point  of  view.  Certainly ' 
he  took  no  interest  whatever  in  the 
fishing,  and  as  the  rest  of  us,  for  the  time 
being,  took  no  interest  whatever  in  any- 
thing else  our  intimacy  with  him  did  not 
ripen  as  it  might  have  done.  He  seemed 
to  spend  most  of  his  time  poking  about 
making  deplorable  discoveries,  but  he 
was  always  most  ready  to  talk  when  he 
could  find  a  victim.  I  came  upon  him 
one  sunny  morning  leaning  against  the 
railing  and  gazing  out  across  the  loch. 

"  You  know,  I  do  feel  for  these  High- 
land shepherds,"  ho  began.  "  Theirs 
is  a  bleak,  hard  life."  And  he  sighed. 

I  gave  him  no  encouragement,  but  lie 
went  on. 

The    population     is    leaving    the 


country;  and  can  you  wonder  at  it? 
There  " — with  a  fine  wave  of  his  arm — 


"  where  there  might  be  and  ought  to 
be  a  flourishing  community  tilling  the 
heather,  the  place  is  a  mere  solitude 
given  over  to  grouse  and  deer.  Do  you 
see  that  little  white  cottage  over  there? 
Near  the  head  of  the  lake  ?  One  of  the 
gillies  was  telling  me  to-day  that  the 
shepherd's  wife  that  lives  there  has 
broken  down  completely — mental  de- 
pression —  nervous  collapse.  Surely 
that  ought  not  to  be." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  I. 

Mr.  Ezekiel  Thornton  took  a  long 
breath,  and  I  knew  that  I  was  in  for  it. 

"  Twenty  years  ago  her  husband 
took  her  over  there  as  a  bride,  a 
strong,  healthy,  buxom  young  woman 
of  twenty-three.  And  now  it  lias  come 
to  this !  " 

"  But  what  went  wrong  ?  " 

"  Sheer  loneliness,"  he  replied  mourn- 
fully. "  She  had  no  neighbours.  There 
is  no  road,  not  even  a  track  to  the 
cottage.  Week  after  week  she  never 
saw  the  face  of  a  stranger.  There  she 
sat  day  after  day,  her  husband  away 
on  the  hill,  cut  off  from  her  fellows, 
looking  out  across  I  he  steel-grey  loch." 

There  was  a  short  pause,  and  then 
he  began  to  pile  it  on.  "There  she 
sat,  I  say,  listless,  forgotten  by  the 


busy  world,  forced  back  upon  her  own 
brooding  solitude  year  after  year.  And 
now  has  come  the  inevitable  collapse." 

"And  has  she  no  children?  I  asked. 

"  Thirteen."  He  shook  his  head 
sadly.  "  Thirteen  mouths  to  fill." 

Journalistic  Modesty. 
"WASTE   PAPER   WANTED. 

A      PROBLEM       SOLVED       BY      '  THE      DAILY 

CHRONICLE.'  "—The  Daily  Chronicle. 


"  He  believed  the  whole  financial  difficulty 
could  be  overcome  through  fostering  free  will 
offerings,  and  he  held  very  strongly  to  the 
opinion  that  tho  whole  difficulty  could  be 
overcome  through  fostering  freewill  offerings,' 
and  he  held  very  strongly  to  the  opinion  that 
the  whole  difficulty  could  be  overcome  through 
the  good  old  orthodox  method — the  church 
offertory." — Daily  News  and  Leader. 

He  held  on  too  long. 

"WANTED  TO  BUY. — Handcuffs  and  Fakes 
of  every  description.  Must  be  cheap  or  use- 
less."— The  Magical  World. 

Cheap,  for  choice,  please. 


The  Lightning  Impersonator. 

"Then  there  was  more  applause  and  more 
recalls,  and  at  last  (copying  Madame  Patti)  he 
appeared  on  the  platform  with  his  hat,  his, 
cane,  and  his  gloves." 

Daily  News  and  Leader. 


HINTS   TO    CLIMBERS:    HOW    TO    ATTRACT    NOTICE. 

VI.  ACQUIRE  A  FEW  ORIGINAL  EXPLETIVES  AND  LET  THEM  LOOSK  ON  APPBOPBIATE  OCCASIONS. 


THE  M.P.'S  GARDEN  OF  VERSES. 
(After  ROBERT  Lovis  STEVENSON.) 

:    i. 

THE  WHOLE  DUTY  OP  MEMBERS. 
M.P.'s  should  to  their  chiefs  be  true 
And  vote  as  they  are  told  to  do ; 
Be  gentlemanly  in  debate 
Or  try  to  be,  at  any  rate. 

*  r. 

H. 
A  THOUGHT. 

It 's  really  very  nice  to  think 

That  in  the  House  there 's  meat  and 

drink, 

With  no  necessity  to  speak 
And  all  the  time  £8  a  week  I 

in. 

THE  DAILY  BOUND. 
In  winter  sitting  late  at  night 
I  hate  the  artificial  light ; 
In  summer  it  is  rather  hard 
To  leave  the  sun  in  Palace  Yard. 

I  have  to  go  inside  the  place, 
And  hang  about  all  day  in  case 
The  Tories  spring  a  snap  division 
And  then  object  to  its  rescission. 

Now  does  it  not  seem  hard  to  you. 
When  there  are  nicer  things  to  do, 
That  I  should  have  to  spend  my  day 
In  such  a  tiresome  sort  of  way? 


IV. 

Two  OF  A  KIND. 
I  love  the 'man  who  pairs  with  me 

And  gives  me  whole  days  off ; 
On  politics  we  disagree  k 

But  both  are  keen  on  golf. 

It 's  nicer  far  at  Walton  Heath 
Than  voting  like  machines, 

For  here  there 's  lovely  turf  beneath 
Our  feet  and  perfect  greens  I 

All  worries  we  have  left  behind  ; 

We  are  as  free  as  air ; 
,    It  would  be  difficult  to  find 
A  more  contented  pair. 

v. 

THE  ROAD  TO  SUCCESS. 
I  do  as  I  ani  told  each  day 
And  in  the  end  it 's  bound  to  pay, 
For  if  I  don't  make  any  slips 
I  '11  win  the  favour  of  the  Whips. 

A  Member  who,  though  not  much 

worth, 

Can't  some  day  get  a  decent  berth, 
He  is  a  bad  M.P.,  I  "m  sure, 
Or  else  his  brains  are  very  poor. 

VI. 

A  PitETTY  THOUGHT. 
The  House  is  so  full  of  delightful  M.P.'s 
I  'm  sure  we  should  all  be  as  happy  as 
bees. 


VII. 


GOOD  AND  BAD  MEMBERS. 
Members !  once  you  've  been  elected, 
Always  vote  as  you  're  expected, 
Not  the  way  your  heart  inclines, 
But  on  strictest  Party  lines. 

Let  it  be  your  only  hobby 
To  perambulate  the  Lobby ; 
Very  seldom  even  try 
To  attract  the  SPEAKER'S  eye. 

Ready  at  a  moment's  notice 
In  your  place,  whate'er  the  vote  is — 
That  was.  how— and  still  is  yet — 
Members  reached  the  Cabinet. 

But  the  lazy  and  unruly 
And  the  sort  who  speak  unduly, 
Let  them  put  aside  the  notion 
They  will  ever  get  promotion. 

Faithless  and  unwilling  henchmen 
Never  will  become  front-bench-men, 
And  they  cannot  well  complain 
If  Private  Members  they  remain. 


"Two    reservoirs    at    Bradford  have  been 
poisoned  by  dye. 

"The  action  is  attributed  to  Suffragettes, 
and  the  supply  has  been  cut  off." 

South  African  Ncics. 

In  England  the  supply  of  them  con- 
tinues. 


.PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  9,  1913. 


THE    LOOKER-ON. 

TBXKE?  (to  the  Balkan"  Allies").  «TX  PAINS  ME.   GENTLEMEN,  TO  THINK  THAT  YOU,   WHO 

BEEN   ANIMATED   FROM   THE   FIRST    BY   PURE   CHRISTIAN    ZEAL   ON    BEHALF   OF 

RESSED  NATIONALITIES,   SHOULD  FALL  OUT  OVER  THE  SWAG.     IF  THE  MEDIATION 

A   MUTUAL    FRIEND    WOULD    PROVE    ACCEPTABLE,    PRAY    COMMAND    MY    SERVICES." 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


53 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  I-'ROM  THE  DlARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 

House  of  Lords,  June  30.  —  Lord 
NEWTON  not  only  makes  excellent  jokes; 
he  passes  good  Bills.  Already  tliis 
Session,  whilst  others  talk  and  wrangle, 
ho  has  carried  through  a  useful  measure 


dealing  with  the  evils  of  hotting, 
day  moves  second  reading  of  tho 
Moneylenders  Bill.  Not  the 
kind  that  Josiah  or  Abraham 
would  voluntarily  endorse,  even 
with  the  prospect  of  something 
more  than  the  maximum  of  5 
per  cent,  interest  which  figures 
modestly  in  their  circulars.  And 
yet  its  provisions  are  so  simple, 
and  the  obvious  marvel  is  they 
were  not  earlier  enforced. 

All  that  Lord  NEWTON  asks  is 
that  moneylenders  shall  describe 
themselves  as  such ;  that  in 
addition  to  their  assumed  names 
they  shall  give  their  own  ;  and 
that  their  circulars  shall  be  sent 
only  to  such  hapless  students  of 
this  type  of  literature  as  shall  in- 
dicate desire  to  have  it  supplied. 

A  flutter  audible  on  certain 
benches  when,  as  result  of  in- 
quiry, NEWTON  told  how  these 


To- 


ago  by  my  lamented  friend  LABDY, 
I  used  to  put  the  circulars  in  an 
unstamped  envelope  and  re-address 
them  to  tho  sender,  Moses  or  Aaron  as 
the  case  might  be.  Pictured  to  myself 
their  benevolent  smile  when,  having 
paid  twopence  for  the  missive  expectant 
of  prey,  they  found  their  own  circular. 
"  Am  told  this  artless  expedient  is 


CREWE  8,  LANSDOWNE 

i^MS      FBOM/'OO         T«       J^ioOCO 


THE    MASKED   MONEY-LENDERS. 
"  Moses  and  Aaron  trading  as  CKEWE  and  LAHSDOWSE." 


honest  traders,  solicitous  to  add  appear- 
ance of  respectability  to   shady   busi- 
ness,   borrow    names   of    noble 
and   flaunt    them    in    place    of 


lords 
their 

own,  invariably  suggestive  of  Semitic 
origin.  For  example,  there  are  among 
the  tribe  a  BUBTON,  a  STEWART  (no 
kinsman  of  LONDONDERRY  or  GALLO- 
WAY), a  FORTESCUE  and — here  NEWTON, 


counterchecked  by  hereditary  wariness. 
Orders  have  been  given  in  all  money- 
lenders' offices  not  to  take  in  unstamped 
letters.  What  puzzles  me  is  how  these 
fellows  come  to  know  of  my  straitened 
circumstances,  a  condition  of  life  the 
privacy  of  which  I  jealously  guard.  As 
they  say  at  the  War  Office,  the  Admiralty 
or  elsewhere,  when  an  embarrassing 


smitten  with   genuine   emotion,  shud-  document  gets  into  the  papers,  there  's 
dered— a  CURZON.    This  indignity  to  an '  a  leakage  somewhere." 
historic  assembly,  which  has  not  even  a 
preamble  to  recommend  it,  will  be  made 
impossible  by  passing  of  the  Bill. 

"For  example,"  NEWTON  said, 
glancing  lightly  from  Ministerial  Bench 
to  Front  Bench  opposite,  from  SECRE- 
TARY OP  STATE  FOR  INDIA  to  LEADER 
OP  OPPOSITION  who  confronted  him, 
"  Moses  and  Aaron  trading  as  CHEWE 
and  LANSDOWNE  will  be  obliged  to  dis- 
close their  identity." 

Prospect  of  deliverance  from  the  pest 
of  moneylenders'  circulars  evidently 
touched  a  chord  of  sympathy.  The 
MEMBER  FOR  SARK,  who  watched  debate 
from  Commons'  pen,  bore  personal 
testimony  to  prevalence  of  tho  plague. 

"Barely  a  morning  passes  without 
the  post  bringing  me  one  or  more  of 
these  circulars,"  he  said.     "  Any  day  I 
might,  on  ridiculously  low  terms,  find 
myself  in  possession  of  sums  varying 
from  £100  to  £20,000.     No  questions  i 
asked ;  no  disclosure  made.     Just  your ' 
note  of  hand,  and  there 's  your  money. 
Following  a  hint  dropped  some  years 


THE   6TAIBS   THAT   BESN   BUILT. 

(Mr.  WEDGWOOD  BENN.) 


Business  done. — Second  Reading  of 
Moneylenders  Bill  passed  without 
division.  Chorus  of  approval  promises 
swift  and  certain  progress  to  Statute 
Book. 

House  of  Commons,  8.30  A.M.,  Thurs- 
day.— After  sitting  that  ran  nearly  the 
full  round  of  the  clock  House  sleepily 
adjourned.  In  other  days,  before  Irish 
Members  found  salvation,  it  was 
a  familiar  incident  in  week's 
work  to  go  home  with  the  milk 
in  the  morning.  Of  late  an 
all-night  sitting  is  so  unusual 
as  to  create  some  talk.  Suggests 
inquiry  about  reasonableness  of 
charging  overtime.  Labour 
Members  testify  that  when  that 
overloaded  Titan,  the  British 
workman,  is  required  to  stay  on 
after  completion  of  a  full  day's 
work  he  is  paid  per  hour  at 
increased  rate.  Why  should 
there  be  one  law  for  the  dock- 
worker  and  another  for  the 
wage-earner  at  Westminster  ? 
Talk  of  organising  strikes  if 
demands  on  this  score  be  ignored 
by  CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHEQUER. 
Late  sitting  occasioned  by 
resolute  opposition  displayed 
against  Plural  Voting  Bill  in 
Committee.  Earlier  in  afternoon  there 
was  outbreak  disclosing  afresh  electricity 
in  an  atmosphere  which  through  long 
hours  is  dolefully  depressing.  Marconi 
episode  petered  out  and  ARCHER-SHEE 
not  quite  ready  with  his  oil -can. 
Accordingly,  by  way  of  filling  up  time, 
WOLMEH,  devoured  with  anxiety  for 
political  purity,  brings  in  Bill  extend- 
ing scope  of  Corrupt  Practices  Act. 
Based  upon  incident  occurring  at 
recent  by-election  at  Leicester.  Some 
misunderstanding  about  communica- 
tion to  working-men  voters  as  to  view 
taken  by  Labour  leaders  in  the  Com- 
mons of  interposition  of  third  candidate. 
WOLMEH  with  frankness  of  comparative 
youth  had  already  indicated  his  view  of 
transaction. 

"  A  forged  telegram,"  he  remarked, 
when  MAURICE  LEVY,  who  transmitted 
the  message,  escorted  the  new  Member 
for  Leicester  to  the  Table  to  take  the 
oath. 

"  A  vulgar  and  insulting  remark," 
LEVY  described  it. 

WOLMER,  shocked  at  this  language, 
appealed  to  SPEAKER  for  protection. 
Got  more  than  he  expected  in  shape  of 
stern  reminder  that  his  own  disorderly 
conduct  had  put  him  out  of  court. 

Few  minutes  later  the  SPEAKER  again 
shortened  unseemly  episode  by  stopping 
LEVY,  who  was  on  the  point  of  what 
would  have  been  deplorable  final  retort 
to  the  noble  Lord  who  talked  about 
forgery. 


54 


PUNCH/OH  TI IK   LONDON   CTIAIUVAIU. 


[JULY  9,  1913'. 


1 


"THE  FIVE  MEMBERS. 


Mr.  MASTERMAIT,  Colonel  £OCKWOOD,  Mr.  BONAB  LAW,  Mr.  HABCOUKT  and  Mr.  '\YILLIE  EEDMOSD  figuring  as  models  for  the  picture 
that  is  to  decorate  the  centre  panel  of  the  new  staircase  to  the  Terrace. 


Business  done.  —  Wrestled  round 
Plural  Voting  Bill  the  long  night 
through. 

Friday. — The  week  has  seen  some- 
thing more  than  irresistible  progress 
of  Home  Eule  Bill,  Welsh  Church  Dis- 
establishment Bill,  and  Plural  Voting 
Bill  towards  Statute  Book.  Has  wit- 
nessed opening  of  new  staircase  leading 
from  dining-room  lobby  to  Terrace. 
Tendency  of  Parliamentary  mind  dis- 
tinctly running  in  direction  of  stair- 
cases leading  anywhither  so  that  tfhey 
lead  away  from  the  workshop  where  our 
£400  a  year  is  so  arduously  earned. 

A  few  years  ago  now  staircase  was 
built  regardless  of  expense  for  use  of 
ladies  going  to  tea  on  the  Terrace  or 
dinner  in  the  Harcourt  Room.  Extrava- 
gance was  the  outcome  of  protest  by 
clique  of  misanthropes  who  complained 
that,  when  they  left  enclosure  on  Ter- 
race reserved  "For  Members  only" 
and  tried  to  run  upstairs  in  response"  to 
sound  of  division  bell,  their  progress 
was  impeded  by  what  they  called 
"  women  "  tripping  downstairs,  usually 
occupying  the  whole  of  centre-way. 

New  staircase  primarily  for:  service 
of  Members ;  they  are  indebted  to  the 
energy  of  WEDGWOOD  BENN,  repre- 
sentative in  Commons  of  Board  of 
Works.  A  First  Commissioner  (in  this 
case  his  deputy)  is  naturally  desirous  of 
leaving  his  mark — to  be  more  precise, 
his  signature — indelibly  written  on 
walls  of  historic  edifice.  Thus  LOULU 


built  a  spacious  banquet  hall  and 
Members  call  it  the  "Harcourt  Boom." 
The  new  descent  to  the  Terrace  will  be 
known  as  the  Benmaehree  Staircase, 
a  name  which  happily  blends  the 
patronymic  of  the  Minister  with  a  com- 
pliment to  the  Irish  alliance  with  the 
Ministry  of  the  day. 

As  BENN  told  a  deeply  interested 
House,  it  is  intended  to  decorate  the 
centre  panel  of  the  staircase  with  a 
picture  designed  by  SEYMOUR  LUCAS 
representing  "The  Flight  of  the  Five 
Members."  Promise  of  much  competi- 
tion for  places  on  the  panel.  As  yet 
no  decision  arrived  at  as  to  identity  of 
sitters  for  what  is  likely  to  be  a  stirring 
picture  of  Members  bolting  downstairs. 
All  that  has  yet  been  settled  is  that,  in 
accordance  with  rule  governing  nom- 
ination of  Select  Committees,  two  shall 
be  selected  from  the  Ministerial  side, 
two  from  the  Opposition  Benches,  with 
one  Irish  Member. 

Business  done. — Plural  Voting  Bill 
through  Committee. 

The  Surprise. 
From  a  Ceylon  circular : — 

"Printed  Carpets  on  Japanese  grass,  looks 
like  carpets." 

Rotten  if  they  had  looked  like  banana 
skins. 


1  Wanted — Baby's  cot ;  also  rabbits." 

Advt.  in  "  Victoria  Colonist.' 
We  prefer  the  ordinary  hutch. 


THE  PUSHER. 

JAMES  may  say  what  he  likes,  but  it 
was  not  my  intention  to  hit  the  girl  in 
the  rhododendron-coloured  jersey.  I 
hate  these  losing  hazards  off  the  red. 
And  the  same  applies  to  the  young  man 
with  the  artificially-preserved  eye  who 
was  helping  her  to  study  the  line  of 
her  putt ;  the  wanton  destruction  ol 
plate-glass  is  wholly  ubhorrent  to  mj 
retiring  disposition.  But,  just  as  the 
bee  or  the  butterfly  is  lured  by  UK 
brightness  of  certain  flowers,  just  as 
the  moth  flutters  round  the  evening 
lamp  and  the  bird  dashes  itself  against 
the  lighthouse  window,  well— he  was 
a  pale-faced  handsome-looking  fellow, 
my  ball,  with  a  black  rolling  eye,  and 
naturally  enough  the  society  of  two 
commonplace  men  was  a  bit  dull  for 
him. 

It  was  at  the  fourth  tee  that  the 
trouble  began.  I  had  waggled  about 
a  long  time  before  letting  fly,  and 
probably  he  hypnotised  me,  so  that 
I  caught  him  a  most  tremendous  crack 
across  the  left  flank  with  the  toe  of  my 
club.  Fortunately  there  is  no  silly 
point  at  golf,  or  lie  would  have  got  it 
in  the  neck;  but  Pink  Coat  and  her 
cavalier  who  were  then  standing  on  the 
seventh  green  only  escaped  his  im- 
portunity by  a  magnificent  piece  ot 
ducking.  It  was  done  in  perfect  time 
and  looked  very  pretty.  As  I  walkei 
slowly  away  from  James  to  round  ii] 
the  renegade  I  took  off  my  cap  am 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


55 


First  American  Lady  Polo  Player.  "DON'T  LIKE  HIM  10  PLAY  AGAINST?    WHY?" 

Second  American  Lady  Polo  Player.  "  WELL,  HE  ALWAYS  PLAYS  AS  IP  I  WAS  OXLY  A  WOMAN." 


spoko  to  them.  "  No  holding  him 
to-day,  I  am  afraid,"  I  murmured 
apologetically ;  "  the  drought  seems  to 
be  in  his  blood." 

The  girl  stared  and  the  young  man 
put  up  the  forcing-frame  which  had 
fallen  from  his  eye  during  the  recent 
manoeuvres  and  positively  looked  nib- 
licks at  me. 

"  Oughtn't  to  allow  them  on  the  links 
at  all,"  I  heard  him  say,  as  I  tried  to 
bolt  the  wanderer  from  the  burrow 
where  he  had  gone  to  earth. 

He  was  quite  steady  after  that, 
until  the  eleventh  hole,  where,  taking 
advantage  of  the  fact  that  I  used  a 
cleek  for  my  second,  he  tried  to  make 
up  to  them  again.  I  shouted  "  Fore !  " 
and  watched  him.  He  travelled  with 
a  low  curly  gait  about  ankle  high,  the 
sort  of  shot  that  leaves  cover-point 
guessing  every  time.  Ehododendron 
and  Glass-house  were  taking  the  flag 
out  of  the  fifteenth  hole,  and  they  cut 
him  by  a  brisk  leap  into  the  air.  I 
could  scarcely  refrain  from  shouting 
"Encore !  "  as  I  hurried  across  to  whip 
him  in.  I  managed,  however,  to  make 
another  apology,  and  there  was  another 
frost. 

"  Disgusting,"  said  the  young  man  as 


he  replaced  his  stopper,  and  they  both 
deliberately  turned  their  backs  on  me. 

"  I  don't  think  I  like  those  people," 
I  said  to  James  as  I  rejoined  him ; 
"  they  seem  rather  reserved." 

"  I  know  the  man  a  little,"  said  James, 
and  as  luck  would  have  it  he  was  the 
only  occupant  of  the  male  compartment 
of  the  club-house  when  we  came  in  to 
tea. 

"  Hullo,  I  'm  afraid  my  partner- 
nearly  damaged  you  this  afternoon," 
said  James ;  "  he 's  very  sorry  about  it." 

Then  I  made  my  third  apology,  and 
the  chap  looked  at  me  through  his 
glass  as  if  I  had  been  a  green-fly. 
This  was  unbearable.  Hang  it  all,  the 
grievance  was  more  mine  than  his.  It 
was  obviously  the  gay,  worldly  appear- 
ance of  himself  and  his  partner  that  had 
tempted  my  ball  away  from  its  proper 
courses. 

I  determined  to  be  affable. 

"Are  you  going  to  play  another 
round?"  I  asked  him. 

"  No,"  he  replied  coldly ;  "  I  am  going 
home.  There 's  no  safe  place  on  these 
links." 

Very  sadly  indeed  I  ate  an  enormous 

tea,  and,  whether  it  was  the  effect  of 

jthe  second  piece  of  cake  or  nob  I  do 


not  know,  but  my  first  drive  after- 
wards had  a  huge  slice  upon  it. 
Almost  at  once  it  was  obvious  that 
my  ball  would  drop,  not  on  the  course, 
but  out  of  bounds  in  the  road  that  runs 
outside.  A  second  later,  as  it  hovered 
in  the  air,  it  was  clear  that  it  was 
extremely  likely  to  hit  a  large  open 
motor-car  coming  from  the  club-house. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  it  timed  its  descent 
with  extraordinary  precision.  I  have 
seldom  seen  two  motorists  look  so 
frightened.  Simultaneously  they  leapt 
into  the  air  and  flung  themselves  back 
against  the  cushions.  One  of  them,  I 
noticed,  had  a  monocle  in  his  eye. 
His  companion  wore  a  fur  coat,  but 
she  had  a  kind  of  pink  woollen  garment 
on  her  lap,  and  the  adventurer  fell 
exactly  between  them. 

I  did  not  pursue  them  to  reclaim 
my  property.  Legally  speaking,  they 
had  no  right  to  appropriate  the  ball ; 
yet,  morally,  I  felt  that  they  had 
earned  it. 


for    no 


"Hampshire,     532.       Oxford    1 
wickets." — Dundee  Courier. 
This  is  headed  "GooD  WORK  BY  OX- 
FORD," and  we  must  congratulate  them 
on  their  plucky  run. 


56 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVAEL_ 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


TRY   OUR    MIXTURE. 

SCEXE— A  7lKsr.4rflM.vr. 

[Both  the  Old  and  ilia  Young  Man 
should  look  the  picture  of  radiant 
health,  the  Waiter  should  be  very 
ijcnial,  the  Doctors  pompous  and 
well-mean  ing,  and  the  Voices  should 
be  extremely  agitated. 

Old  Man.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are 
taking  Bingo's  Life  Preserver.  . 

Young  Man.  Yes,  I  always  take  it,  and 
so  do  all  my  family.  It  is  splendid  stuff. 

Old  Man.  And  so  cheap,  too.  Only 
one-and-nine  tho  small  bottle,  and 
inferior  makes  cost  two-and-nino  or 
oven  three-and-two. 

Young  Man  (sternly).  I  avoid  all 
substitutes.  Bingo's  is  the  only  true 
and  original  life  preserver.  (Very  im- 
pressively) It  saved  the  life  of  my  aunt 
at  Cromer. 

Old  Man.  How  delightful. 

Young  Man.  And  my  great-uncle, 
who  is  ninety-eight,  ascribes  his  robust 
health  entirely  to  Bingo. 

Old  Man  (con  amore).  I  am  not  at 
all  surprised. 

Youny  Man:  My  grandfather  lived  to 
be  one-hundred-and-eloven  witlVthe  aid 
of  the  large  bottle  of  Bingo,  and  then 
lie  was  only  killed  by  a  motor-'bus. 

Old  Man.  Good. 

Young  Man.  My  liver,  etc.,  etc. 

Old  Man  (an  hour  later).  You  may 
vrell  say  that. 

Young  Man.  It  is  splendid  stuff. 

Old  Man  (after  a  pause).  It  is  splen — 
I  mean  it  is  really  good.  (A  reverent 
silence  for  a  minute.)  But  tell  me, 
Abraham,  how  does  your  love  affair 
progress  ? 

Young  Man  (assuming  a  lugubrious 
expression  and  heaving  a  profound  sigh). 
Alas !  alas ! 

Old  Man.  Oh  dear,  does  she  refuse  you? 

Young  Man.  Eefuse  me?  Aurelia? 
No,  she  loves  me  to  distraction ;  she 
would  go  through  fire  and  water  for  me ; 
but  her  father  will  not  hear  of  an  en- 
gagement. Ho  says  I  have  no  money. 

Old  Man.  What  an  impasse ! 

Young  Man.  Aurelia  lias  enough  for 
two,  but  she  will  not  marry  without 
her  father's  consent. 

Old  Man.  Why  not  ? 

Young  Man.  She  would  lose  her 
money  if  she  did.  I  don't  know  what 
we  shall  do.  Alas!  (Weeps  bitterly.) 

Old  Man.  All  this  is  very  pathetic. 
It  affects  me  strangely.  It  is  quite  like 
a  play.  (Restaurant  band  starts  play- 
ing "  Bitchy  Koo.")  Ah,  there  is  some 
slow  music.  I  think  I  will  now  weep. 
(Docs  so.)  [Enter  Waiter. 

Waiter.  Another  bottle,  Sir?  (Per- 
ceives their  situation.)  Dear,  dear,  don't 
take  on  so,  gentlemen.  Be  British. 

Old  Man.    Ow,  ow,  ow. 


Waiter.  Come,  come,  Sir,  every  cloud 
has  a  silver  lining. 

Old  Man  (rousing  himself).  That's 
true.  1  never  thought  of  that. 

[A  woman's  shriek  now  rends  the  air, 
which  is  also  filled  with  confused 
cries  and  shouts.  Several  people 
rush  in  to  the  Restaurant  in  a  vary 
excited  condition.  Then  an  elderly 
gentleman  in  a  state  of  collapse  is 
carried  in.  His  daughter  (much 
affected)  is  by  his  side. 

First  Voice.  QuickC  quick,  a  chair. 

Second  Voice.  No,  a  sofa. 

First  Voice.  Water,  water. 

Second  Voice.  Waiter,  waiter. 

First  Voice.  Fetch  a  doctor. 

Third  and  Fourth  Voices.  Help,  help ! 
Oh  lor !  Oh  lor ! 

Young  Man.  Goodness  gracious,  it  is 
Aurelia.  (Bushes  up  to  her.) 

Aurelia.  Oh,   Abraham,   help.      My 
poor  father  has  been  taken  ill ;    he  is 
dying.     What  shall  we  do  ? 
"  Young  Man.  Send  for  a  doctor. 

[Enter  three  Doctors,  each  with  a  silk 
hat,  a  stethoscope,  and  a  thing  that 
looks  like  a  stiletto.  They  punch 
the  elderly  gentleman  about  the  ribs. 

First  Doctor  (after  hurried  examina- 
tion). I  can  do  nothing.     He  has  only 
an  hour  to  live.    Science  is  of  no  avail. 
My  remedies  are  worthless.   I  am  sorry. 
[Pockets  fee  and  exit. 

Young  Man.  Aurelia,  bear  up.  This 
one  may  be  wrong.  He  is  not  on  the 
panel. 

Second  Doctor  (shaking  his  head).  He 
cannot  live  a  day.  [Exit. 

Old  Man.  This  one  is  very  terse.  The 
whole  thing  is  strangely  dramatic. 

Third  Doctor  (after  usual  prelimin- 
aries). No,  my  colleagues  are  right  this 
time.  It  is  quite  hopeless,  though  I 
give  him  a  week.  It  is  most  interest- 
ing. I  can  do  nothing.  I  will  call 
again.  [Exit. 

Aurelia.  Oh!  what  shall  I  do ? 

Young  Man  (tearing  his  hair  dis- 
tractedly). I  am  completely  nonplussed. 

Old  Man.  Abraham,  have  you  for- 
gotten Bingo's  Life  Preserver? 

Young  Man.  Ah,  my  Bingo.  (Pulls 
out  his  bottle  and  gives  it  to  Aurelia's 
Father,  who  at  once  sJiows  some  signs 
of  life.  Slowly  he  returns  to  conscious- 
ness ;  at  last  he  rises,  looks  round  him 
and  begins  to  dance  about.) 

Aurelia's  Father.  I  feel  very  fit. 
I  would  like  a  game  of  squash  rackets. 

Aurelia  (shocked).  Father. 

Aurelia's  Father  (surprised).  Why,  it 
isn't  Sunday.  Oh  I  I  remember  now. 
I  was  ill.  What  was  the  matter  ? 

Old  Man.  Ill,  Sir!  You  were  at  death's 
door.  You  were  saved  by  this  gallant 
young  fellow. 

Young  Man  (modestly).  It  wasn't  me. 
I  only  did  what  every  Englishman 


worthy  of  the  name  would  have  done. 
It  was  Bingo  who  saved  you. 

Aurelia's  Father  (in  a  tone  of  dis- 
pleasurc).  Abraham,  do  I  see  you  here? 

Young  Man  (nervously).  I  was  hero 
first. 

Aurelia's  Father.  I  suppose  you  were. 
I  was  brought  in  here,  of  course,  when 
1  was  taken  ill.  And  who  is  this  Bingo 
who  saved  mo  ? 

Young  Man.  Bingo's  Life  Preserver, 
which  I  gave  you  in  the  nick  of  time. 

Aurelia's  Father  (with  emotion).  Ah, 
how  it  comes  back  to  me.  My  old 
father  always  told  me  to  take  it.  The 
last,  indeed  the  only,  tiling  lie  ever 
gave  me  was  a  bottle  of  Bingo.  But 
I  neglected  his  warnings.  I  went  my 
own  way,  reckless,  careless,  Bingoless. 
(Very  firmly)  I  will  bo  wiser  now. 
Morning  and  night  I  will  take  my  Bingo. 

Aurelia.  And  you  will  consent  to  our 
engagement  ? 

Aurelia's  Father.  Well,  I  suppose 
I  must.  (Grumpily)  Abe,  you  can  take 
my  daughter. 

All.  Hip!  hip!  hoorah ! 

Old  Man  (to  the  audience).  This  is  all 
due  to  Bingo. 

Abraham  and  Aurelia  embrace ;  the 
Waiter  brings  out  drinks  for  all, 
and  the  Old  Man  walks  off  with 
Aurelia's  Father.  As  the  curtain 
falls  he  is  heard  saying — 

Yes,  but  the  large  bottle  at  two-and- 
seven  comes  cheaper  in  the  long  run. 
CURTAIN. 


PUT  TO   THE  PROOF. 

LATELY  I  gave  the  camera-man 

One  last  conclusive  show  : 
He  was  to  trace  my  final  face 

For  after-men  to  know. 
The  deed  was  done  ;  I  looked — and  got 

A  really  nasty  blow. 

Plump  and  high-browed  I  knew  I  was, 

But  not  half-bald  and  fat. 
Those  lines  !  That  nose  1  Could  they 

be  those 

I  wear  beneath  my  hat? 
And,    horrified,   "  Kind    heavens ! "    I 

cried, 
"  It  can't  have  come  to  that !  " 

Back  went  they ;  but  next  day  arrived 

Still  deadlier  printed  lies ; 
A  blasting  sight  I  By  day  and  night 

Their  memory  never  dies. 
That  Clapham  Junction  of  a  brow  I 

Those  bagged  and  bleary  eyes ! 

And  with  them  came  a  note  that  made 
Still  worse  his  wanton  act : 

The  earlier  lot  had  given  me  what, 
Said  he,  my  features  lacked, 

Till   Art  "re-touched."      These   latest 

showed 
The  Unmitigated  Fact. 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVAUI. 


57 


HINTS    TO    FOREIGNERS    WHO    PRODUCE    CINEMA    FILMS    FOR    THE 

ENGLISH    MARKET. 


An  ENGLISH  NOBLEMAN  AS  A  RULE  DDKS  NOT  ACT  IN  THB 

ABOVE    MANNED    DURING    A    MISUNDERSTANDING    WITH   A   LAD* 
WHO  HAS  ENGAGED  HIS  AFFECTIONS. 


ENGLISH  SPORTSMEN  AND  SPORTSWOMEN  ARE  SELDOM 
DECOEATIVE  AS  XHIS. 


NVura  THE  EARL  OP  WESSEX  MEETS  AN  F.X-OFFICEB  OP 

HT8  KEOIMEKT  IN  THE  DESERT  THEY  ARE  UNLIKELY  TO  BEHATB 

LIKE    THIS. 


EN  THE  NOTICE  PRECEDING  THE  PICTURE  DEFIHITKI.T 
STATES  THAT  THB  ACTION  TAKES  PLACB  IN  PlCCADIIiY  IBM 
ABOVE  DOESN'T  LOOK  EIGHT  SOMEHOW. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


CAMPER'S    LUCK. 

,  yes,  of  course  one  is  "  roughing 
it,"  as  they  say.  That  is  all  right. 
You  don't  expect  a  vagrant's  life  to  bo 
a  bed  of  roses.  But  I  am  not  com- 
plaining of  the  rules  of  the  game. 
Being  no  mean  sportsman,  I  am  always 
prepared  to  rough  it  in  a  spacious, 
weatherproof,  well-ventilated  and 
luxm'iously  appointed  caravan,  with  a 
first-class  stove,  comfortable  chairs  and 
a  thundering  good  bed.  The  trouble 
lies  not  in  the  inherent  privations  of 
existence  on  tour — far  from  it.  The 
trouble  lies  in  the  ups  and  downs,  the 
undulations — if  you  take  me — in  the 
run  of  luck.  Even  so,  it  would  be  all 
right  if  one  thing  did  not  lead  to 
another.  But  it  does. 

They  go  in  cycles,  generally  of  about 
twenty-four  hours.  If  a  day  means  to 
be  good  it  is  not  at  all  easy  to  spoil  it. 
And  if  it  means  to  be  bad  you  can't 
cure  it.  It  is  simply  the  steady  pre- 
ponderance of  good  days  over  bad  that 
makes  caravanning  the  finest  holiday 
in  the  world.  But  "  when  they  are 
bad  "  (like  the  little  girl  in  the  poem) 
"  they  are  horrid." 

You  can  nearly  always  tell  them  as 
soon  as  you  get  up.  The  rubber  bath 
acts  as  a  sort  of  rough  index  for  the 
day.  If  it  behaves  well  you  are  pretty 
sure  to  be  all  right.  But  if  it  begins 
by  flopping  over  when  you  are  filling 
it,  and  flooding  the  corner  where  you 
keep  the  boots,  and  ends  by  turning 
on  you  viciously  as  you  are  emptying 
it  out  of  a  high  window,  you  are  in 
for  it.  You  must  go  forward  in  faith, 
with  no  immediate  hope,  and  with  your 
eye  fixed  bravely  on  the  morrow.  In 
the  meantime  you  may  expect  a  bad 
egg  for  breakfast,  a  heavy  downpour 
of  rain  while  you  are  packing  up,  a 
broken  trace  when  you  stick  in  the 
gate,  a  mistake  in  the  map,  which 
lands  you  into  impossible  country,  a 
lame  horse.  You  will  find  you  have 
forgotten  the  corkscrew  and  left  behind 
your  only  pipe;  the  shops  in  the 
village  that  you  were  counting  on  are 
closed  for  the  weekly  half-holiday ;  your 
letters  have  been  sent  to  the  wrong 
place.  You  endure  endless  delays  in 
finding  camping  ground,  because  the 
farmer  has  recently  made  the  farm  over 
to  his  brother-in-law  (just  now  at  the 
station  with  the  milk),  who  has  sub-let 
the  only  possible  field  to  the  butcher, 
who  is  at  a  market  four  miles  off,  and 
(when  he  is  found)  can't  move  the 
cattle  unless  he  has  permission  to  put 
ihern  into  the  meadow  that  belongs  to 
;he  aged  schoolmaster,  who  is  in  bed 
with  a  sharp  attack  of  pneumonia  and 
:an't  be  consulted.  That  is  the  sort  of 
way  it  works. 


And,  as  I  have  said,  one  thing  leads 
to  another. 

It  is  late  at  night  and  everything  is 
at  last  in  order.  It  occurs  to  you,  just 
before  turning  in,  that  you  will  clean 
the  fish  for  breakfast.  That  will  not 
take  five  minutes.  You  go  into  the 
kitchen,  get  a  bowl,  a  sharp  knife  and 
the  bucket.  In  pouring  the  water  into 
the  bowl  you  slip  and  ilood  the  floor. 
You  mop  it  up,  and  then  you  must 
wash  your  hands.  You  get  a  basin, 
fetch  the  soap  from  the  bedroom  and 
pour  out  more  water.  You  wash  your 
hands.  Very  well,  you  return  to  the 
fish.  The  candle  has  almost  burned 
out.  You  go  and  grope  for  another  in 
the  locker,  and  have  the  misfortune  to 
get  your  hand  into  the  blacking.  You 
light  the  candle,  wash  your  hands  and 
return  to  your  fish.  But  by  degrees 
you  are  getting  deeper  in.  The  candle 
topples  over.  You  had  jammed  it  on 
the  top  of  the  hot  stump  and  it  has 
gone  weak  in  the  knees.  You  make  a 
grab  at  it.  You  are  too  late  to  save  it, 
but  you  knock  something  off  the  table 
and  can  hear  it  dripping  quietly  in  the 
dark.  You  plunge  fishy  hands  into 
your  pockets,  but  find  you  have  no 
matches.  You  have  to  go  for  them  to 
the  bedroom,  stepping  on  the  lard  en 
route.  You  find  that  the  dripping  sound 
was  methylated  spirit  and  it  has  con- 
taminated the  frying-pan.  Very  well. 
You"  fix  your  candle.  Everything  is 
getting  pretty  fishy  by  this  time,  so 
you  wash  your  hands.  You  return  to 
your  fish.  Then  you  try  to  wash  the 
frying-pan  with  cold  water,  and  fail. 
You  must  boil  water,  and  you  have  no 
water  left.  You  light  a  lantern  and  go 
for  water  to  the  spring  (600  yards). 
You  propose  to  ignite  the  stove.  It  is 
empty.  The  oil  is  beneath  the  van, 
and  it  is  now  raining  hard.  You  bring 
the  oil  and  upset  the  milk  which  some 
fool  had  left  on  the  step.  You  light 
the  stove;  boil  the  water;  wash  the 
pan ;  wash  the  floor ;  chuck  away  the 
lard ;  wash  your  hands ;  put  out  the 
stove ;  take  back  the  oil  and  put  the 
fish  in  the  frying-pan.  It  is  now  two 
hours  since  you  began  and  your  net 
loss  is  one  quart  of  milk,  a  pint  of 
methylated  spirit  and  a  chunk  of  lard. 
You  see  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that 
one  thing  leads  to  another. 

But  then,  if  the  morrow  is  a  good  day, 
it  will  inaugurate  a  new  cycle.  The 
fish  will  not,  after  all,  taste  of  methy- 
lated spirit.  You  will  find  enough 
milk  in  the  blue  jug.  As  you  empty 
the  bath  out  of  the  window,  it  will  quite 
gratuitously  put  out  a  rising  confla- 
gration where  some  one  had  set  fire  to 
the  old  newspapers,  and  might  have  set 
fire  to  the  van.  At  breakfast,  if  you 
happen  to  drop  a  plate  off  the  table,  it 


will  not  break  but  it  will  kill  a  wasp.' 
As  the  day  goes  on  itinerant  butchers 
and  bakers  will  minister  to  you  in  the 
nick  of  time.  A  preternaturally  intelli- 
gent postman  will  pursue  you  on  a 
bicycle  with  the  lost  letters.  By  taking 
a  wrong  turning  you  are  brought  to  the 
most  perfect  camp  of  the  tour  in  a 
sheltered  meadow  by  a  winding  stream. 
One  of  the  lamps  of  the  stove  goes  out, 
while  you  are  not  watching  it,  and 
thereby  saves  the  sirloin  from  being 
grossly  overdone. 

And  late  at  night  a  sudden  heavy 
shower  extinguishes  the  gramophone  of 
the  party  camped  over  the  hedge. 


FAUVETTE. 

(A  Toy  Dog.) 

FAUVETTE  a  dainty  lady  is ; 
Her  life  is  hedged  with  luxuries, 
Her  room  with  richest  tapestries. 

Her  garb  is  very  fair  to  view ; 
She  has  a  silken  coat  of  blue, 
And  one  of  roseate  satin,  too. 

In  this  attire  her  days  are  spent 
Upon  a  couch  of  pleasing  scent 
'Twixt  sleep  and  taking  nutriment, 

For  which  she  has  a  silver  dish 
Served  with  the  rarer  kinds  of  fish, 
Or  breast  of  game,  if  she  should  wish. 

She  comes  of  high  and  ancient  line ; 
Her  birth,  her  breeding,  are  so  fine 
That  she  has  won  of  medals,  nine. 

Such  worth  demands  the  greatest  care; 
Tho'  sometimes,  when  the  day  is  fair, 
She  will  go  forth  to  breathe  the  air. 

Not  doomed  to  walk,  as  others  are, 
She  takes  a  drive,  not  fast  or  far, 
Well  guarded  in  a  costly  car. 

For  this  she  has  a  coat  of  fur 
And  goggles  light  as  gossamer, 
Lest  wind  or  dust  should  ravish  her. 

And  she,  from  this  high  post,  looks  down 
Coldly,  bet\veen  a  sneer  and  frown, 
On  the  low  mongrels  of  the  town, 

Who  see  her  on  her  owner's  lap, 
And,  stung  by  her  derisive  yap, 
Would  give  the  world  to  have  one  snap. 

It  may  be,  if  some  boarhound  ate 
The  frail  and  shivering  Fauvette, 
Her  mistress  would  be  much  upset. 

For  me,  at  an  event  so  tristo, 
I  should  not  worry  in  the  least, 
I  do  so  hate  the  little  beast. 


A  wit  has  applied  the  term  "  Lime- 
wash"  to  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  style 
at  the  National  Liberal  Club  Luncheon. 
Conversely,  the  name  of  the  CHAN- 
CELLOB'S  new  private  secretary  is 
Mr.  WHITEHOUSE. 


JULY  9,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


Policeman  (on  point  duty,  to  inquisitive  stranger).  "  I  WISH  YOU  WOULDN'T  WOBBY  MB  WHEN  YOU  SEE  I  'M  BUSY.     JUST  LOOK 

WHAT  YOU  "VE  DOSE  I  " 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MR.  OLIVER  ONIONS  is  the  latest  expositor  of  the  art  of 
•what  might  be  called  the  concurrent  sequel.  I  remember 
that,  when  he  published  the  further  history  of  Jim  Jeffries 
under  the  title  of  The  Debit  Account,  I  complained  that 
only  those  with  some  previous  knowledge  of  his  past  could 
make  out  what  it  was  all  about.  In  the  present  volume, 
The  Story  of  Louie  (SECKEB),  he  has  been  so  far  from 
repeating  this  mistake  that  Louie's  story  is  entirely  and 
absorbingly  complete  in  itself;  and  only  when  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  way  through  did  I  suddenly  find  myself  in' 
familiar  company.  This  many-sided  consideration  of  one 
history  is  a  fascinating  development  of  fiction,  which  may 
however  be  overdone.  Certainly  the  previous  books  had 
given  me  no  idea  that  there  was  so  much  in  Louie.  I  am 
inclined  indeed  to  call  her  the  most  attractive  figure  in  all 
Mr.  ONIONS'  rather  sombre  company.  Child  of  a  runaway 
match  between  an  artist's  model  (who  was  also  a  pugilist) 
and  a  lady  of  quality,  Louie  is  throughout  the  true  daughter 
of  such  parents.  She  is  a  fighter,  but  she  fights  clean. 
Her  upbringing  by  a  mother  who  is  ashamed  of  her;  her 
attempt  to  earn  independence  at  a  gardening  academy ;  the 
episode  of  her  early  love  and  its  consequences — all  these 
are  so  vividly  told  that,  long  before  she  met  Jim  Jeffries  at 
the  Business  College,  Louie  had  become  for  me  absolutely 
human  and  real;  so  much  so  that  the  tragedy  wherein, 


according  to  the  previous  books,  she  had  played  but  a  sub- 
ordinate part  I  now  regarded  exclusively  as  it  concerned 
her.  On  which,  since  it  was  presumably  just  what  Mr. 
ONIONS  intended,  I  make  him  my  felicitations,  coupling 
with  them  a  gentle  hope  that  he  will  now  leave  this  some- 
what depressing  affair  and  tell  us  about  another. 

One  of  the  chief  attractions  of  that  pleasant  writer,  Mr. 
ABCHIBALD  MABSHALL,  is  the  natural  and  unvexed  fluency 
of  style  by  which  he  communicates  to  the  reader  something 
of  his  own  atmosphere  of  ease  and  confidence.  It  may  be 
that  in  The  Honour  of  the  Clintons  (STANLEY  PAUL)  the 
narrative  is  at  times  a  little  too  unstudied;  that  a  little 
more  selection  of  detail  might  have  strengthened  it ; 
that  the  dialogue,  always  extraordinarily  probable,  might 
with  advantage  have  indulged  our  imaginations  more  freely ; 
but  these  are  the  defects  of  a  sound  virtue.  The  plot  of  Mr. 
MARSHALL'S  clever  story  is  concerned  with  a  theft  committed 
by  a  lady  at  a  country-house  party.  A  hint  of  her  guilt  is 
dropped  rather  early  in  the  tale,  but  this  matters  less  because 
the  theft  and  its  exposure,  though  no  doubt  they  provided  the 
author  with  his  original  motive  for  making  the  book,  interest 
us  chiefly  for  their  effect  on  the  character  of  someone  who 
had  no  sort  of  hand  in  the  crime.  Pompous,  dictatorial, 
thoroughly  satisfied  with  himself  and  the  Providence  that 
has  made  him  what  he  is,  the  Head  of  the  House  of  Clinton 
is  suddenly  asked  to  face  this  blow  that  falls  upon  his 
family's  honour,  and  in  the  test  discovers  an  unsuspected 


GO 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  9,  1913. 


nobility.  All  the  delicate  phases  of  the  struggle  between  con- 
science and  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  are  analysed  by 
the  author  with  the  very  nicest  judgment.  Mr.  MAUSHALL'S 
familiarity  with  the  externals  of  this  type  lias  long  been 
recognised,  but  hero  ho  is  not  content  with  just  a  true 
picture  of  life  in  a  setting  well-observed  ;  ho  has  attempted 
a  difficult  problem  in  psychology,  and  brought  a  very  sure 
hand  to  his  task.  He  has  many  admirers,  and  this  new- 
book  promises  to  add  much  to  the  stature,  and  even  more 
to  the  quality,  of  his  reputation. 

Let  those  who  are  fatigued  by  the  novel  of  problem  and 
of  purpose  turn  to  How  Many  Miles  to  Babylon  1  (CONSTABLE) 
and  seek  refreshment.  One  is  naturally  chary  of  super- 
latives when  writing  of  a  new  novelist,  but  I  can  honestly 
say  that  no  "  first  book  "  has  for  many  years  impressed  me 
more  than  Miss  IBWIN'S.  Mab,  the  heroine,  is  taken 
through  her  childhood  and  school-days  (which  are  most 
vividly  described)  until  she  returns  to  her  relations,  who 
did  not  understand  her, 
and  with  whom  she  had 
little  or  no  sympathy ; 
and  during  this  part  of 
the  story  she  is  drawn 
with  an  insight  that  is 
almost  uncanny  in  its 
perfection.  Apart  from 
the  fact  that  M  ss 
IRWIN  evidently  ima- 
gines that  the  Rugby 
and  Marlborough 
cricket  match  is  occa- 
sionally played  at  Marl- 
borough,  I  can  find 
nothing  that  is  not  pre- 
cisely and  exactly  right. 
Later  on,  after  Mab's 
marriage,  I  think  that 
the  author's  grasp  over 
the  story  is  a  little  less 
sure.  Her  account  of 
Mab's  flight  from  her 
husband  is  too  metic- 
ulous in  its  detail.  It 
is  impossible  to  cavil  at 
the  flight  itself,  but  one  may  well  regret  the  attempt  to 
make  so  much  of  what  is  rather  attenuated  material.  For 
the  rest,  however,  I  am  not  only  a  captive  to  the  curiously 
delightful  atmosphere  of  the  book,  but  also  an  enthusiastic 
admirer  of  the  skill  with  which  a  most  difficult  character 
lias  been  handled. 

I  had  always  supposed  that  any  fool  could  make  money 
n  the  late  rubber  boom.  But  apparently  I  was  wrong. 
This  certainly  was  not  the  experience  of  Sir  Derrck  llyder- 
dale.  But  then  he  was  the  hero  of  The  Lost  Destiny 
STANLEY  PAUL),  and  in  many  respects  an  exceptional  man. 
Tilings  happened  to  him  as  tliey  do  not  happen  to  ordinary 
lersons.  For  example,  he  had  a  visitation  in  a  railway 
carnage  from  an  invisible  voice  (something  like  the  gnat 
ind  Alice)  which  warned  him  concerning  his  future.  A 
ittle  later  on  a  bold  bad  financier — possibly  in  active  league 
with  the  Evil  One,  but  of  this  I  am  not  certain — gave  him 
wo  hundred  pounds  to  gamble  with  in  return  for  half  his 
•vinnirgs  during  four  years.  So  Byderdale  took  the  money, 
ind  abandoned  his  alternative  career  as  an  Empire-builder 
or  that  of  a  plunger.  It  was  here  that  I  detected  the  root 
dea  that  alone  saves  Mr.  C.  VILLIEKS  STUAKT'S  story  from 
itter  sensationalism  and  futility.  The  conception  of  a  man 


Mother.  "  COME  ALONG,  GREGORY,  AN' 

TER  MIGHT  BE  LIKE   IT  SOME   DAY." 


on  the  downward  path,  haunted  by  what  he  might  have 
been,  is  in  itself  excellent.  Unfortunately  the  author  has 
by  no  means  done  it  justice  in  treatment.  His  characters 
are  like  nothing  on  earth.  I  thought  the  Jow  financier  was 
unreal  enough,  when,  just  for  melodrama,  he  made  an 
appointment  with  the  now  ruined  liychrdalc  at  midnight, 
and  dared  his  victim  to  murder  him.  Which  the  latter 
promptly  did,  with  sufficient  ingenuity,  by  means  of  a 
poisoned  syphon.  And  then  the  Home  Secretary — but  no, 
you  must  really  find  out  for  yourself  how  he  camo  in  an 
easy  winner  in  the  race  for  incredibility.  I  have  said  just 
enough  not  to  spoil  the  story  for  those  who  like  this  sort  of 
tiling,  and  to  avert  the  danger  of  deadly  boredom  from  those 
who  don't. 

I  have  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  of  the  twonty-and-three 
stories  that  go  to  make  up  the  volume  Through  the  Window 
(MILLS  AND  BOON)  the  twenty  were  got  together  mainly 
in  order  to  provide  the  remaining  three  with  an  excuse  for 

existence.  I  only  hope 
that  they  were  hunted 
up  from  the  limbo  of  a 
bottom  drawer  and  that 
time  and  effort  were 
not  spent  upon  writing 
them  for  the  purpose. 
I  am  far  from  saying 
that  they  are  bad ; 
many  of  them  were 
worth  the  telling,  and 
one,  "The  Five  Pound 
Note,"  so  much  so  that 
it  has  already,  I  am 
afraid,  been  many  times 
told.  But  if  they  are 
capable  they  are  no 
more,  and  certainly 
they  are  not  up  to  Miss 
MARY  E.  MANN'S  form, 
as  anybody  could  see 
for  himself  who  had  no 
previous  experience  of 
what  Miss  MANN'S 
form  might  be.  Each 
story  has  its  point,  but 
in  none  is  the  point  fairly  developed  ;  the  reader  is  informed 
that  such  and  such  a  thing  happened  but  is  not  given  to 
understand  why.  There  are,  besides,  two  pervading  faults. 
In  the  first  place  the  politics  are  bigoted.  Many  will  agree 
that  Miss  MANN'S  opponents  are  a  misguided  party,  hut 
even  they  aro  not  to  bo  dismissed  in  such  an  offhand 
manner.  In  the  second  place  the  few  serious  attempts  at 
characterization  achieve  little  more  than  an  unhappy  class 
distinction,  feminine  merits  being  confined  to  the  upper 
ten  and  masculine  virtues  to  members  of  the  Senior 
Service.  The  three  that  remain  are  "  The  Setting  Sun," 
an  elegy ;  "  Beetles,"  a  gruesome  but  delightful  incident, 
and  "  Medlars,"  an  incomparable  jest.  There  is  that  about 
the  two  last  named  that  leads  mo  to  suspect  that  the  author, 
if  she  would  subject  herself  to  a  process  of  ruthless  self- 
criticism  and  elimination,  could  produce  a  book  of  short 
stories  not  unworthy  of  that  great  model,  MAUPASSANT. 

"  It  was  decided  that  the  members  should  endeavour  to  raise  a 
fund  for  a  marble  font  by  asking  parents  who  had  had  their  children 
baptised  in  the  Cathedral  to  donate  at  least  one  shilling  per  child 

towards  the  same.     At  the  April  meeting,  Mrs.  Z headed  the  list 

with  £5."- — Graf  ton  Diocesan  Neirs. 

We   are   glad    to    see   that   the    large    family   is   getting 

popular  again. 


DON'T  BEGIN  IMITATING  THEM  GOLFERS  ; 


JULY  16,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


61 


CHARIVARIA. 

MR.  KEIR  HARDIE,  in  a  speech  at 
Plaistow,  explained  why  ho  never  goes 
to  Buckingham  Palace.  "I  never  ac- 
cept favours  which  I  cannot  return," 
ho  said.  "  I  cannot  ask  the  KINO  to 
my  backyard,  so  I  keep  away  from  his." 
His  MAIKSTY  is  said  to  be  greatly  re- 
lieved by  the  explanation. 

*  * 

The  marriage  between  the  Balkan 
Allies  being  at  an  end,  the  Powers  have 

decided  to  keep  the  ring. 

*  * 

A  lady — Dr.  MARIE  C.  STOPES — has 
been  appointed  Lecturer  on  Fossils  at 
London  University,  and  there  is  an  ugly 
rumour  on  foot  to  the  effect  that  the 

subject  of  her  first  paper  will  be  Man. 

*  * 

The  elephant  which  Lord  HABDINOE 
was  riding  at  the  time  of  the  bomb 
outrage  at  Delhi,  has,  in  consideration 
of  his  steadiness  on  that  occasion,  been 
made  a  State  pensioner.  We  under- 
stand, since  the  news  has  leaked  out, 
that  he  has  been  pestered  with  unwel- 
come attentions  on  the  part  of  fortune- 
hunters,  and,  with  the  view  of  putting 
an  end  to  the  nuisance,  he  would  like 
it  to  be  known  in  the  elephant  world 

that  it  is  not  his  intention  to  marry. 

*  ,  •:•• 

One  of  the  witnesses  in  a  recent  sen- 
sational will-suit  is  said  to  have  refused 
fabulous  sums  offered  to  him  by  the 
managers  of  several  Eevues  as  an 
inducement  to  him  merely  to  toddle 
once  round  the  stage  on  his  knees. 

*  * 

By  the  way,  so  many  smart  people 
were  prevented  by  lack  of  accommoda- 
tion from  attending  the  trial  referred 
to  that  it  has  bean  suggested  that  the 
High  Court  authorities  should  be 
authorised  in  future,  on  the  occasion  of 
a  cause  c&Ubre  such  as  this,  to  hire  a 
theatre  for  its  run.  The  cost  could  be 
recouped  by  charging  for  all  seats  except 
those  in  the  gallery,  the  surplus  to  go 
to  the  Trustee  in  Bankruptcy  of  the 
•litigant  who  loses. 

•jf  * 

Owing  to  the  advance  in  the  price  of 
raw  materials  our  soap  is  to  cost  us 
more,  and  the  day  may  not  be  far 
distant  when  it  will  b3  cheaper  to  use 
india-rubber.  „.  .,. 

Meanwhile  it  is  said  that  quite  a 
mimlier  of  little  boys,  whose  parents 
are  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  an 
increase  in  the  price  of  yet  another 
necessity,  have  gamely  offered  to  wash 
only  once  a  week. 

*  * 

However,  as  a  Member  of  the  Govern- 
ment is  reported  to  have  said,  even  if 


SECKETABIES  OP  SEASIDE  AMUSEMENTS  COMMITTEES  SHOULD  BEAU  ix  MIND,  WHEN  GETTIHO 

UP  THEIB  ANNUAL  BF.GATTA,  THAT,  WHILE  THE  ABBANGED  ITEMS  MAY  BE  ENTEBTAISIKO,  IT  18 


THE  LITTLE  IMPBOMPTU   FEATURES  THAT  THE  PUBLIC   BEALLY  LOVES. 


the  price  of  soap  goes  up,  white-wash, 
thank  Heaven,  is  cheap  enough. 

*  * 

A  few  weeks  ago  we  stated  in  this 
column  that  the  "  Old  Six  Bells  "  inn, 
Willesden,  had  "  been  condemned  by 
the  local  authorities  as  unfit  for  habita- 
tion." We  are  now  informed  by  the 
agents  of  the  owner  that  this  statement 
is  "  quite  inaccurate  and  calculated 
to  seriously  damage  both  the  value  of 
the  property  and  also  the  business  at 
present  being  carried  on  by  the  tenant, 
viz :  that  of  a  Coffee  and  Dining  Rooms." 
We  hasten  to  express  our  regrets,  and 
wo  trust  that  if  any  readers  of  Punch 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  using  the 
place  as  "a  Coffee  and  Dining  Eooms •" 
or  have  chorished  the  intention  of 
bidding  for  it  when  (if  ever)  it  comes 
into  the  market,  they  will  not  have 
been  put  off  by  our  erroneous  state- 


Iment.     Long  may  the  old  inn  remain 
as  sound  as  a  bell — as  six  bells  t 

:;:     :|: 

The  fact  that  Tagg's  Island  is  being 
advertised  as  "  The  Riviera  of  London" 
is,  we  hear,  hotly  resented  by  certain 
South  London  watering  -  places,  and 
steps  are  to  be  taken  at  once  to  diaw 
public  attention  to  the  claims  of  Ber- 
mondsey  and  Rothorhithe. 
*_* 

The  recent  fire  at  the  Welcome  Club, 
Earl's  Court  Exhibition,  fortunately  did 
but  little  damage,  but  the  Committee 
realise  now  that  it  is  possible  for  a 
welcome  to  be  too  warm. 

*#* 

The  Epping  Guardians  have  decided 
to  purchase  a  tif teen-shilling  wig  for  a 
pauper  inmate  of  the  workhouee,  but 
any  lady  pauper  asking  for  a  trans- 
formation will  bo  discouraged. 


62 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  16,  191.3. 


LEAVES    FROM    THE    BEERBOHM    TREE 
OF    KNOWLEDGE. 

rfn  fricmllv  imitation  of  the  first  chapter—entitled  "  Our  Betters  " 
—of  Sir   IlKiuiF.HT  TIIKE'S  recently  published   Thoughts  and  Aftet 
,ts.] 

\Vn\T  is  a  gentleman?  I  once  assisted  at  a  banquet 
which  was  {'raced  by  the  presence  of  a  number  of  actor- 
managers.  A  humorist,  called  upon  for  a  speech,  addressed 
the  company  as  "Knights  and  Gentlemen!'  The  dis- 
tinction is  only  superficial,  for  they  have  much  in  common. 
A  gentleman  is  one  who  does  not  care  a  coat-tail  button 
whether  he  is  a  gentleman  or  not ;  and  a  knight  is  one  who 
is  so  little  concerned  about  his  title  that  he  would  just  as 
soon  he  a  baronet. 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  the  University  and  the  1  ublic 
School  if  your  sole  object  is 

"  to  merge  in  form  and  gloss 
The  picturesque  of  man  and  man." 

But  I  havd  never  found  that  SHAKSPEAKB,  who  was  neither 
at  Oxford  (like  BENSON)  nor  Cambridge  (like  ADRIAN  Ross) 
was  the  worse  for  that  defect.  The  triumphs  of  the  author 
of  "Endymion"  were  not  won  on  the  playing-fields  of 
Eton,  and  ROBERT  BURNS  could  never  have  learned  to  write 
"For  a'  that"  at  Harrow. 

My  own  ideal  type  is  the  peasant.  I  have  often  come 
away  a  better  man  from  holding  converse  with  a  yokel. 
He  is  nearest  to  Nature.  For  one  who  has  given  his  life  to 
Art  such  intercourse  is  a  fine  corrective. 

I  have  spoken  slightingly  of  University  education.  I 
will  do  so  again.  My  brother  MAX  has  often  complained 
bitterly  to  me  of  the  damage  done  to  his  genius  by  his  six 
years'  residence  (if  I  have  got  the  period  right)  at  Oxford. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  disabilities  which  he  acquired  at 
that  seat  of  learning  so-called,  he  thinks,  poor  boy,  that  he 
might  have  rivalled  me  as  an  actor.  There  is  BOURCHIER, 
of  course.  But  it  is  riot  given  to  everyone  to  pass  through 
the  University  and  still  keep,  as  he  kept,  the  divine  spark 
unquenched.  .  ' 

There  are  many  kinds  of  snobbery.  One  might  indeed 
devote  an  entire  book  to  the  subject  of  snobs.  It  would 
have  made  a  good  theme  for  THACKERAY. 

To  recur  to  the  question  of  University  education.  You 
will  seldom  find  a  sailor  who  has  taken  the  degree  of  Master 
of  Arts  at  one  of  the  Universities.  Yet  no  class  of  men  is 
more  keenly  intelligent  about  splicing  a  rope  or  boxing  a 
binnacle.  And  why  ?  Because  they  are  constantly  in  touch 
with  the  elements.  On  the  other  hand  I  have  never  known 
a  man  to  escape  sea-sickness  through  wearing  a  University 
ribbon  on  his  hat.  I  think,  without  conceit,  that  I  have 
proved  my  point  this  time. 

Self-respect  is  the  very  tap-root  of  the  oak  of  indepen- 
dence. -  But  it  must  be  watered  with  humour  and  manured 
with  modesty.  Only  the  greatest — and  therefore  the  most 
modest — actors  can  afford  to  dispense  with  the  limelight. 
The  curse  of  dramatic  art  is  the  publicity  which  it  entails. 
If  I  had  my  way  the  names  of  the  cast  should  not  be 
given  on  the  programme,  and  every  actor  should  disguise 
his  own  identity;  so  that  at  the  fall  of  the  curtain  the  stalls 
would  ask  one  another,  "  Which  was  THEE  '?  " 

The  Spirit  of  the  Age  is  undergoing  a  sea-change.  Put 
your  ear  to  the  shell  upon  the  shore  and  you  will  hear  the 
rumble  of  the  on-coming  armies  of  Liberty  and  Equality, 
as  they  burst  through  the  barbed  wires  of  convention  and 
sweep  away  the  landmarks  of  vested  interests.  That  is 
what  I  mean  when  I  speak  of  a  sea-change. 

Too  long  have  we  been  licking  the  boots  of  "  Our  Betters." 
But  there  is  a  cloud  to  every  silver  lining ;  and,  when 
everybody  is  as  good  as  everybody  else,  we  must  be  prepared 


to  sacrifice  the  privilege  of  patronising  "  Our  Worses."  We 
shall  all  be  on  the  same  rung  of  the  ladder — probably  the 
bottom  one. 

Those  who  have  never  suffered  from  the  disease  of  self- 
consciousness  will  be  left  unaffected  by  the  sea-change  to 
which  I  have  referred.  This  applies  peculiarly  to  the  lead- 
ing exponents  of  the  drama.  For  the  purposes  of  creative 
Art  we  may  have  imitated  "  Our  Betters,"  but  we  have  never 
recognised  them  as  such.  A  Duke  or  a  Marquess- -they 
are  all  one  to  us. 

To  strain  after  originality  is  to  confess  oneself  a  Philis- 
tine. The  note  of  genius  is  inevitability.  How  was  it  that 
the  late  GEORGK  WASHINGTON  spoke  the  truth  so  ably  ?  Not 
because  he  was  trying  to  distinguish  himself  ..from  his 
fellows,  but  because  lie  couldn't  help  it.  I  knew  a  Hamlet 
who  wanted  to  be  original  about  his  dying.  For  weeks  he 
fell  dead  without  distinction,  and  then,  one  night,  at  the 
supreme  moment,  he  slipped  up  on  a  banana-skin  thrown 
from  the  gallery — and  brought  down  the  house.  One 
touch  of  Nature  often  has  this  effect. 

It  was  SHAKSPEARE  who  said,  "To  thine  own  self  bo 
true."  SHAKSPEARE  could  say  almost  anything  better 
than  almost  anybody  else.  Yet  there  have  been  other 
great  writers  whom  1  could  mention  if  I  gave  thought  to 
it.  Meanwhile,  MOSES,  SOPHOCLES,  DANTE,  CERVANTES 
and  GOETHE  are  names  that  occur  to  me. 

Two  of  the  greatest  developments  of  our  era  are  Eugenics 
and  Boy  Scouts.  I  remember  once  hearing  of  a  congenital 
idiot  who  accidentally  severed  an  artery  and,  in  the  absence 
of  First  Aid,  bled  to  death.  <  It  was  for  lack  of  a  Boy 
Scout  that  he  died ;  and  it  was  for  lack  of  Eugenics  that  he 
was  ever  horn. 

The  minority  of  to-day  becomes  tho  majority  of  to-morrow ; 
and  it  is  no  less  true  that  the  majority  of  to-day  becomes 
the  minority  of  to-morrow.  Life  is  full  of  these  strange 
paradoxes — if  that  is  the  word  I  mean.  The  rain  falls  equally 
on  the  just  and  the  unjust,  but  chiefly  on  the  just,  because 
the  unjust  takes  the  just's  umbrella.  The  only  safe  course 
for  the  just  is  to  shelter  under  the  spreading  chestnut  Tree. 
••  .0.  S.  . 

PETER    PIGEON. 

THE  pigeons  dwell  in  Pimlico ;  they  mingle  in  the  street; 
They  nutter  at  Victoria  around  the  horses'  feet ; 
They  fly  to  meet  the  royal  trains  with  many  a  loyal  phrase 
And  strut  to  greet  their  sovereign  on  strips  of  scarlet  baize ; 
But  Peter,  Peter  Pigeon,  is  in  his  cradle  days. 

The  pigeons  build  in  Bloomsbury ;  they  rear  their  classic 

homes 
Where  pedants   clamber   sable   steps   to  search   forgotten 

tomes ; 

They  haunt  Ionic  capitals  with  learned  lullabies 
And  each  laments  in  anapaests  and  in  iambics  cries  ; 
But  Peter,  Peter  Pigeon,  how  sleepily  he  sighs. 

The  pigeons  walk  the  Guildhall,  they  dress  in  civic  taste 
With  amplitude  of  mayoral  chain  and  aldermanic  waist; 
They  bow  their  grey  emphatic  heads,  their  top-knots  rise 

and  fall 
While    clustering    in     the     courtyard    at    their    mid-day 

dinner-call ; 
But  Peter,  Peter  Pigeon,  he  nods  beneath  my  shawl. 

The  pigeons  brood  in  Battersea ;  while  yet  the  dawn  is  dark 
Their  reedy  aubade  ripples  in  the  plane-trees  round  the 

park ; 

They  light  upon  your  balcony,  a  brave  and  comely  band, 
Till  night  decoys  their  coral  feet,  their  voices  low  and  bland; 
But  Peter,  Peter  Pigeon,  his  feet  are  in  my  hand. 


PUNCH,   OK  TllJi  LONDON   CII AKIVARL— JULY   J6,   1913. 


BAULKED ! 

LORD  MURRAY  OF  ELIBANK.  "  •  MAECONI    ENQUIRY    CLOSED!'    THIS    IS    INDEED   A   BITTER 
DISAPPOINTMENT." 


Jur.r  16,  1913.] 


1TNTCII,   OR  TJIE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


C5 


"  I  'M   SORRY  TO  TROUBLE  YOU,  MADAM,   BUI  YOU  ABE    DIRECTLY  OX  THE   LINE   OP  OUR  DRIVE.     WlLL  YOU  KINDLY  MOVE   ONE   WAT 
OR   THE   OTHER  ?  ' 

"CERTAINLY   NOT.       I    HEARD    YOU    SHOUT  VERT  RUDELY,    BUT   I  'VK   NO   IKTEXTIOX    OP    MOVINO.       I    SHOULD    HAVE   THOUGHT  THAT 
A  GENTLEMAN,    WHEN   HE   SAW   ME   HERE,    WOULD   PLAY  THE  OTHEB  WAY." 


CREATING  AN   1MPBESSION. 

THE  summer  swank  -  by  -  the  -  sea 
season  is  upon  us  again,  and  Brixton, 
Bow,  Battersea  and  Bromley  are 
busy. 

You  that  have  yachting  caps  to  wear 
prepare  to  wear  them — shortly.  A  well- 
found  cap  of  this  sort,  a  bins  coat  with 
brass  buttons,  white  flannel  trousers,  a 
pair  of  white  shoes,  and  the  thing  is 
done— you  are  a  yachting  man.  But 
why  make  the  mistake  of  buying  or 
hiring  a  yacht?  There  is  an  easier 
and  a  cheaper  way. 

It  is  Saturday — a  fine  day — and  you 
have  arrived  at  Weymouth,  or  maybe 
it  is  Scarborough.  Begin  well  by  culti- 
vating an  air  of  aloofness,  of  detach- 
ment from  the  common  herd. 

There  are  yachts  in  the  harbour. 
One  of  them,  if  not  yours,  shall  be  as 
yours  in  the  eyes  of  the  girl  whom  you 
wish  to  impress.  Don't  overdo  the 
tiling.  Create  an  impression  that  you 
are  the  owner,  or  at  least  a  guest  of 
the  owner,  of  one  of  those  yachts,  and 
tho  worst  is  over. 

\Yilh  as  showy  a  weed  as  threepence 
will  run  to,  make  your  way  to  the 
quay  and  stroll  about  in  a  dignified 
manner  till  your  Dulcinea  appears  with 
the  latest  holiday  thriller  under  her 


arm  and  the  newest  Bon  Marche  turban 
hiding  her  pretty  curls. 

Now  is  the  supreme  moment.  Sum- 
moning your  courage  from  its  abiding 
place  you  should  put  one  hand  to  your 
mouth,  holding  the  cigar  delicately  with 
the  other,  and  sing  out,  "Nymph, 
ahoy!"  or  "Lticy,  ahoy!"  as  your  fancy 
|  dictates,  having  first  made  sure  that  no 
yacht  so  named  is  within  hearing. 

It  is  unlikely  that  Dulcinea  is  versed 
in  the  nuances  of  a  nautical  hail,  but  it 
is  well  not  to  call  out  twice  unless  you 
are  fairly  certain  of  yourself.  There 
being  no  response  from  tho  vasty  deep, 
it  is  as  well  at  this  juncture  to  pause, 
turn  on  your  heel  with  a  smothered 
exclamation  of  annoyance,  and  retreat 
to  your  bed-sitting-room  in  the  little 
street  behind  the  harbour  for  a  while  to 
allow  the  idea  to  sink  in. 

Dulcinea  has  a  receptive  mind,  and 
when  next  you  meet  she  will  probably 
respond  to  any  suitable  conversational 
opening. 

Commercial  Candour. 

"  Engraved  free  while  you  wait  at  our  stores 
a  few  days  only." 

Advt.  in  "  Lethbridge  Morning  News." 

Sorry,  but  we  cannot  wait.   We  have  an 
j  engagement  the  day  after  to-morrow. 


THE  MENU. 

I  HAVE  a  garden  where  there  grows 
The  white,  the  pink,  the  crimson  rose ; 
Carnations  blent  of  every  hue 
Are  there,  and  dandelions,  too ; 
Some  parsley,  mint  and  thyme  and  cress 
Are  also  grown  at  this  address. 

The  place  abuts  upon  a  way 
Untrodden  save  on  market  day, 
And  then  frequented  mostly  by 
Unhappy  sheep  en  route  to  die. 
These  pass  my  gate  and,  passing,  bleat, 
And  what  return  are  butcher's  meat. 
But  there  were  lambs  on  Wednesday  last 
Who  called  upon  me  as  they  passed 
(Not  by  my  invitation,  but 
Because  the  wicket  wasn't  shut) 
And  took  a  meal  at  my  expense. 
Was  ever  such  impertinence  ? 
I  put  that  meal  in  evidence : — 

They  did  not  eat,  as  you  'd  suppose, 
The  white,  the  pink,  the  crimson  rose. 
Carnations  blent  of  every  hue 
Were  not  the  end  they  had  in  view ; 
Nor  were  the  parsley,  thyme  or  cress 
Or  lion  in  its  dandiness. 
They  ate  with  neither  pause  nor  stint 
Their  pet  aversion — namely,  mint. 
Laid  waste  the  bed  and  left  it  bare, 
And,  sauceless  lamb  being  dismal  fare, 
I  must  admit  they  had  me  there. 


66 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[.JULY  1C,  1913. 


Dorothy.  "Do  you  WAST  ANY  PUDDING?" 

Leslie  (naughty,  and  sent  into  the  luill  to  finish  his  dinner}. 

SERVING  THERE  '&  NO  ANSWER." 


'  TELL  THE  PERSON  WHO  's 


CHANCE,  THE    FRIEND. 

HE  got  in  at  Southampton  West — a 
retired  Army  man,  I  should  guess,  florid 
and  with  a  bristling  sandy  moustache. 
All  too  soon  he  caught  my  eye.  This 
orb  was  not  out  for  capture  at  the 
moment ;  it  merely  rose  inadvertently 
from  my  book  while  I  turned  a  page 
and  rested  a  fraction  of  a  second  too 
long  on  the  newcomer's  countenance. 
But  it  was  enough.  It  was  all  he 
needed,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  off. 

"  With  this  wet  wicket,"  he  said, 
"  Oxford  ought  to  win." 

I  said  in  reply  as  little  as  I  could 
and  resumed  my  reading. 

"  That  fellow,  MELLE,"  he  went  on. 
He  '11  do  the  trick.  Very  artful,  those 
Colonials.  Remember  LE  GOUTEUR?  " 

I  had  to  confess  to  a  recollection  of 
LE  COUTEUB. 

"  RHODES  scholar,  you  know.  South 
African,  I  believe,  or  was  it  New  Zea- 
land?" 


I  had  no  suggestion  to  offer,  although 
I  knew  that  LE  COUTEUB  was  neither, 
but  an  Australian. 

"  Well,  anyway,"  he  pursued,  "  he 
was  that  kind  of  bowler,  too.  If 
Oxford  wins  the  toss  they  ought  to  put 
Cambridge  in  after  all  this  rain.  I  did 
that  once  at  Cheltenham,  I  remember, 
and  the  other  side  thought  I  was  mad. 
But  we  beat  them." 

I  made  such  a  determined  dive  at 
my  book  that  for  a  while  he  was  mute. 
Then  he  relented. 

"Funny  thing,"  he  said,  "but  I'm 
sure  to  see  old  TOM  HOBSON  at  Lord's 
to-day.  I  see  him  every  Varsity  match. 
I  once  scored  off  TOM — he's  a  ground 
bowler,  you  know.  We  were  on  tour, 
and  I  bet  him  half-a-sovereign  I  "d 
reach  my  hundred  wickets  before  he 
did.  We  got  to  ninety-eight  all,  anc 
then  I  took  him  off  and  put  myself  on 
and  made  up  the  hundred.  You  shoulc 
have  seen  TOM'S  face !  He  said  il 
wasn't  fair,  but  I  told  him  I  wasn't 


going  to  let  him  win  if  I  could  help  it ; 
lot  likely.  We  have  a  laugh  over  it 
every  year.  Are  you  a  cricketer  ?  " 

I  said  I  had  dabbled  in  the  game. 

"  Nothing  like  it,"  he  said.  "  It 's 
ihe  best  game.  I  wish  I  wasn't  too 
old.  Lawn  tennis  and  golf  for  me 
now ;  but  just  at  the  present  moment 
neither.  The  fact  is  I  've  crocked  my- 
self up." 

I  had  to  ask  how. 

"  Broke  a  muscle  in  my  leg,"  he  said. 
Just  as  I  was  serving.  Most  ex- 
;raordinary  sensation.  Exactly  as  if 
some  one  had  thrown  a  stone  and  hit 
me  in  the  calf.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
ooked  round  to  see  who  had  done  it. 
I  'm  going  up  to  town  now  to  see  one 
of  those  Swedish  masseur  fellows  ;  but 
not  till  they  draw  stumps  at  Lord's,  of 
course." 

The  train  stopping  at  Winchester 
gave  me  the  opportunity  to  buy  a 
paper  and  change  my  seat.  Another 
man  getting  in  took  mine,  and  I  won- 
dered how  soon  the  chatterbox  would 
do  it  on  him.  He  merely  waited  for 
the  train  to  start  and  then  began. 

"  Not  a  very  promising  day  for  the 
Varsity  match  ?"  he  said. 

The  other  agreed. 

"  You  going?  "  he  asked. 

The  other  admitted  that  he  was. 

I  then  succeeded  in  getting  into  the 
power  of  my  hook  again  and  happily 
lost  some  of  the  connecting  links,  the 
next  thing  I  caught  being  these  words  : 

But  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  can't  play 
anything  just  now.  I  've  gone  and 
crocked  myself  up.  Broken  a  muscle 
in  my  calf.  Have  you  ever  done  that  ? 

The  newcomer  had  not  and  hoped 
he  never  would. 

"  Well,  you  never  know,"  he  was 
assured.  "  Lots  of  men  have  done  it 
this  year.  It  is  the  most  extraordinary 
thing.  Exactly  as  if  some  one  had 
thrown  a  stone  hard  and  hit  you.  In 
fact,  I  looked  round  to  see  who  it  was." 

At  Basingstoke  the  newcomer  changed 
his  compartment  and  another  traveller 
entered  and  took  the  fatal  seat,  and  lie 
too  was  put  through  it. 

But  now  an  unprecedented  thing  hap- 
pened, which  I  ask  no  one  to  believe, 
but  which  none  the  less  is  true.  The 
conversation  had  followed  its  usual 
course — the  weather,  the  wet  wicket, 
the  Colonial  bowler,  the  Cheltenham 
triumph,  the  low  subterfuge  on  TOM — 
all  as  though  I  had  not  already  heard 
it  twice;  and  I  sat  and  marvelled  at 
such  a  want  of  delicacy  of  feeling,  such 
amazing  hardihood  and  metallic  insen- 
sitiveness ;  because  I  am  one  of  those 
foolish  creatures  who  are  miserable  for 
an  hour  if  they  catch  themselves  tellinfg 
the  same  thing  twice  to  the  same 
person,  even  after  an  interval  of  weeks. 


JOXY  16,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


G7 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    OLYMPIC    TALENT. 

A  PATRIOTIC   FABMEB   Tt'BNS   A   FIERCE   BULL  INTO   A   FIELD  IK  OBDEB  TO  TEST  THE   HUBDLIXQ   POSSIBILITIES  OF  HIS   FAKM-HANDB. 


The  talker  of  the  L.  &  S.  W.  B. 
•was,  however,  not  like  that,  and  on  he 
went  undismayed  until  he  reached  the 
broken  muscle.  It  was  then  that  the 
unexpected  occurred,  for  no  sooner  did 
the  newcomer  learn  of  the  calamity  than 
he  chipped  in. 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  that  is,"  he  said. 
"  I  've  done  it  too.  Most  extraordinary 
sensation — exactly  as  if  you  'd  been  hit 
in  the  calf  by  a  stone !  " 

My  talker,  who  had  been  all  fussy 
animation  till  then,  suddenly  petrified. 
His  mouth  was  open  but  no  words 
emerged.  He  scrutinised  his  vis-d-vis 
with  a  cold  and  glassy  gaze.  Some- 
how he  seemed  to  scent  a  "  plant "  or 
conspiracy, although  knowingthat  there 
could  not  be  one,  for  collusion  had 
been  impossible.  He  even  glanced 
suspiciously  at  me,  as  I  could  feel. 

"  Yes,"  repeated  the  other,  all  un- 
conscious of  his  Promethean  theft; 
"  it 's  the  rummest  feeling.  Just  here  " 
— ho  touched  his  calf.  "  Exactly,  as 
I  say,  as  if  someone  had  thrown  a  stone 
at  you." 

Tlio  conversationalist  feebly  ac- 
quiesced and  turned  to  his  paper.  The 
other  man  turned  to  his  paper,  and  we 
had  silence  all  the  way  to  Vauxhall. 

I  swear  this  is  a  true  story. 

The  worst  of  it  is  that  it  was  pure 
chance  and  could  not  be  adopted  as  a 
.strategic  move  with  bores. 


THE    SEASON. 

(To  a  Debutante.) 

A  FEW  short  weeks  wherein  to  dine, 
To  dance,  to  flirt,  to  laugh,  to  shine 

Like- some  new  star; 
To  wear  gay  gowns  and  strange-dressed 

hair 
And  hats  that  make  the  people  stare 

Or  say  we  are 
Original,  as  it  may  be — 
Yes,  that,  my  dear,  for  you  and  me 

The  Season  means ; 

But  for  the  girls  who  shape  our  frocks, 
Our  headgear  (and,  maybe,  our  locks) — 

Some  in  their  teens 
Perhaps,  as  we — the  Season  holds 
Quite  other  things.     Tucks,  hems  and 
folds, 

Gauze,  silk  and  lace 
They  wield  for  us  with  close-eyed  care, 
White-faced  and  worn,  so  we  be  fair 

And  take  our  "  place  " ; 
The  weeks  drag  slow  for  such  as  these 
Whose  backs  are  bent  that  we  may 
please. 

For  us  to  stitch, 

Their  fingers  fly  or  else  their  wheels  ; 
Their  very  dreams  build  cotton-reels  1 

Time's  Hurry- Witch 
Pursues  them  with  her  beating-broom 
And  cares  not  for  their  fading  bloom. 

Toil,  toil,  my  dear, 
The  Season  spells  for  poorer  maids, 
While  wo,  in  Fashion's  jocund  glades, 


Have  but  one  fear — 
Lest,  as  we  flit  from  flower  to  flower, 
Our  honey  will  at  last  turn  sour  I 

So,  should  we  not 
Remember,  now  we  both  are  "out," 
When  wo  (for  trifles)  pine  and  pout, 

Or  moan  our  lot, 

That  there  are  maidens  still  more  sad 
Who,  were  they  bidden,  would  be  glad 

Within  our  shoes 
To  step,  to  flirt,  to  dance,  to  dine, 
Willing,  as  we,  like  stars  to  shine, 

To  pick  and  choose 
How  they  each  rosy  day  shall  spend 
And  dream  that  rose-days  never  end  ? 


Another  Impending  Apology. 

"  A  lord-lieutenant  is  not  always  chosen  be- 
cause of  his  good  looks.  Tho  Earl  of  Craven, 
the  new  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Yorkshire,  is  an 
exception." — Daily  Sketch. 


From  an  hotel  advt.  in  Daily  News : — 

"Bedroom,  Breakfast,  Bath,  Light  Attend- 
ance— 5/6." 

The  "  light  attendance  "  is  not  a  feature 
of  this  hotel  only. 

"  The  enterprising  proprietor  of  the  Queen's 
Hotel,  fashioned  after  the  good  old  English 
stylo  as  regards  cleanliness  and  home  com- 
forts, has  undergone  notable  alterations 
internally." — Tientsin  Sunday  Journal. 

We  shall  call  upon  him  when  he  is 
convalescent. 


68 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  16,  1913. 


THE   BIRTHDAY   PRESENT. 

"  IT  's  my  birthday  to-morrow,"  said 
Mrs.  Jeremy,  as  she  turned  the  pages 
of  her  engagement  book. 

"  Bless  us,  so  it  is,"  said  Jeremy. 
"  You  're  thirty-nine  or  twenty-seven 
or  something.  I  must  go  and  examine 
the  wine-cellar.  I  believe  there  's  one 
bottle  left  in  the  Apollinaris  bin.  1C  's 
the  only  stuff  in  the  house  that  fi/zes." 

"  Jeremy  !    I  'm  only  twenty-six." 

"  You  don't  look  it,  darling;  1  mean 
you  do  look  it,  dear.  What  I  mean- 
well,  never  mind  that.  Let 's  talk 
about  birthday  presents.  Think  of 
something  absolutely  tremendous  for 
me  to  give  you." 

"  A  rope  of  pearls." 

"  I  didn't  mean  that  sort  of  tremen- 
dousness,"  said  Jeremy  quickly.  "  Any- 
one could  give  you  a  rope  of  pearls ; 
it  'a  simply  a  question  of  overdrawing 
enough  from  the  bank.  I  meant  some- 
thing difficult  that  would  really  prove 
my  love  for  you — like  LLOYD  GEORGE'S 
ear  or  the  KAISER'S  cigar  -  holder. 
Something  where  I  could  kill  some- 
body for  you  first.  I  am  in  a  very 
devoted  mood  this  morning." 

"Are  you  really?"  smiled  Mrs. 
Jeremy.  "  Because " 

"I  am.  So  is  Baby,  unfortunately. 
She  will  probably  want  to  give  you 
something  horribly  expensive.  Between 
ourselves,  dear,  I  shall  be  glad  when 
Baby  is  old  enough  to  buy  her  own 
presents  for  her  mother.  'Last  Christ- 
mas her  idea  of  a  complete  edition  of 
MEREDITH  and  a  pair  of  silver-backed 
brushes  nearly  rained  me." 

"  You  won't  be  ruined  this  time, 
Jeremy.  I  don't  want  you  to  give  me 
anything ;  I  want  you  to  show  that 
devotion  of  yours  by  doing  something 
for  me." 

"Anything,"  said  Jeremy  grandly. 
"Shall  I  swim  the  Channel?  I  was 
practising  my  new  trudgeon  stroke  in 
the  bath  this  morning."  He  got  up 
from  his  chair  and  prepared  to  give  an 
exhibition  of  it. 

"  No,  nothing  like  that."  Mrs. 
Jeremy  hesitated,  looked  anxiously  at 
him  and  then  went  boldly  at  it.  "  I 
want  you  to  go  in  for  that  physical 
culture  that  everyone 's  talking  about." 

"  Who  's  everyone  ?  Cook  hasn't 
said  a  word  to  me  on  the  subject ; 
neither  has  Baby  ;  neither  has — 

"  Mrs.  Hodgkin  was  talking  to  me 
about  it  yesterday.  She  was  saying 
how  thin  you  were  looking." 

"  The  scandal  that  goes  on  in  these 
villages,"  sighed  Jeremy.  "  And  the 
Vicar's  wife  too.  Dear,  all  this  is 
weeks  and  weeks  old ;  I  suppose  it  has 
only  just  reached  the  Vicarage.  Do 
let  us  be  up-to-date.  Physical  culture 


has  been  quite  dAmode  since  last  Thurs- 
day." 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  anything  in  the 


paper 

"  Knowing  what  wives  are  I  hid 
it  from  you.  Let  us  now,  my  dear 
wife,  talk  of  something  else." 

"  Jeremy !  Not  for  my  birthday 
present?"  said  his  wife  in  a  reproach- 
ful voice.  "  The  Vicar  does  them  every 
morning,"  she  added  casually. 

"  Poor  beggar !  But  it 's  what  Vicars 
are  for."  Jeremy  chuckled  to  himself. 
"  I  should  love  to  see  him,"  he  said. 
"  1  suppose  it 's  private,  though.  Per- 
haps if  I  said  '  Press  '- 

"You  are  thin,  you  know." 

"  My  dear,  the  proper  way  to  get  fat 
is  not  to  take  violent  exercise,  but  to  lie 
in  a  hammock  all  day  and  drink  milk. 
Besides,  do  you  want  a  fat  husband? 
Does  Baby  want  a  fat  father?  You 
wouldn't  like,  at  your  next  garden 
party,  to  have  everybody  asking  you  in 
a  whisper,  '  Who  is  the  enormously 
stout  gentleman  ? '  If  Nature  made  me 
thin — or,  to  be  more  accurate,  slender 
and  of  a  pleasing  litheness— let  us 
believe  that  she  knew  best." 

"  It  isn't  only  thinness  ;  these  exer- 
cises keep  you  young  and  well  and 
active  in  mind." 

"Like  the  Vicar?" 

"  He 's  only  just  begun,"  said  his 
wife  hastily. 

"Let's  wait  a  bit  and  watch  him," 
suggested  Jeremy.  "  If  his  sermons 
really  get  better,  then  I  '11  think  about 
it  seriously.  I  make  you  a  present  of 
his  baldness ;  I  shan't  ask  for  any 
improvement  there." 

Mrs.  Jeremy  went  over  to  her  hus- 
band and  patted  the  top  of  his  head. 

"  '  In  a  very  devoted  mood  this  morn- 
ing,' "  she  quoted. 

Jeremy  looked  unhappy. 

"What  pains  me  most  about  this," 
he  said,  "  is  the  revelation  of  your  short- 
comings as  a  wife.  You  ought  to  think 
me  the  picture  of  manly  beauty.  Baby 
does.  She  thinks  that,  next  to  the 
postman,  I  am  one  of  the " 

"  So  you  are,  dear." 

"  Well,  why  not  leave  it  ?  Really, 
I  can't  waste  my  time  fattening  refined 
gold  and  stoutening  the  lily.  I  am  a 
busy  man.  I  walk  up  and  down  the 
pergola,  I  keep  a  dog,  I  paint  little 
water-colours,  I  am  treasurer  of  the 
cricket  club;  my  life  is  full  of  activities." 

"  This  only  takes  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  before  your  bath,  Jeremy." 

"I  am  shaving  then;  I  should  cut 
myself  and  get  all  the  soap  in  my  eyes. 
It  would  be  most  dangerous.  When 
you  were  a  widow,  and  Baby  and  the 
pony  were  orphans,  you  and  Mrs. 
Hodgkin  would  be  sorry.  But  it  would 
be  too  late.  The  Vicar,  tearing  him- 


ON   A   SMALL  NUT. 

(Seen  at  Baling.} 
HE  stood  apart  on  the  kerbstone's  angle, 

Where  four  crossways  divide ; 
Mid  the  blare  of  the  'bus  and  the  tram- 
ways' jangle 

He  leaned  on  his  stick  and  sighed ; 
Fourteen  summers  and  winters— 

quite, 
His  coat  too  long  and  his  boots 

too  tight, 
But  he  shone  in  button  and  flower  and 

bangle 
Like  the  dogstar  down  the  night. 

I  saw  him  stand  there,  passionless, 

steady, 

While  the  universe  went  round; 
And,  as  sipping  a  vintage  young  and 

heady, 

He  looked  upon  life  and  frowned. 
And  I  felt  like  a  truant  child  at  play, 
And  I  raised  my  hat  as  I  went  my. 

way 

If  not  to  the  Nut  that  he  is  already, 
To  the  Nut  he  will  be  some  day. 


self  away  from  Position  5  to  conduct 
the  funeral  service — 

"  Jeremy,  don't ! " 

"  Ah,  woman,  now  I  move  you.  You 
are  beginning  to  see  what  you  were  in 
danger  of  doing.  Death  I  laugh  at; 
but  a  fafc  death — the  death  of  a  stout 
man  who  has  swallowed  the  shaving- 
brush  through  taking  too  deep  a  breath 
before  beginning  Exercise  3,  that  is 
more  than  I  can  bear." 

"  Jeremy  !  " 

"  When  I  said  I  wanted  to  kill  some- 
one for  you,  I  didn't  think  you  would 
suggest  myself,  least  of  all  that  you 
wanted  me  fattened  up  like  a  Christinas 
turkey  first.  To  go  down  to  posterity 
as  the  large-bodied  gentleman  who  in-  ! 
haled  the  badger's  hair ;  to  be  billed  in  I 
the  London  press  in  the  words, '  Curious 
Fatal  Accident  to  Adipose  Treasurer ' — 
to  do  this  simply  by  way  of  celebrating 
your  twenty-sixth  birthday,  when  we 
actually  have  a  bottle  of  Apollinaris 
left  in  the  Apollinaris  bin — darling,  you 
cannot  have  been  thinking." 

His  wife  patted  his  head  again 
gently.  "  Oh,  Jeremy,  you  hopeless 
person,"  she  sighed.  "  Give  me  a  new 
sunshade.  I  want  one  badly." 

"  No,"  said  Jeremy,  "Baby  shall  give 
you  that.  For  myself  I  am  still  feeling 
that  I  should  like  to  kill  somebody  for 
you.  LLOYD  GEORGE?  No.  F.  E. 
SMITH?  N-no.  .  .  ."  He  rubbed  his 
head  thoughtfully.  "  Who  invented 
those  exercises  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"  A  German,  I  think." 

"Then,"  said  Jeremy,  buttoning  up 
his  coat,  "  I  shall  go  and  kill  him." 

A.  A.  M. 


JULY  16,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


69 


OUR    VILLAGE    MATCH. 

Batsman.  "WHY  CAN'T  YEB  CALL  WHEN  YOU  'RE  COMING?" 
Second  Batsman.  "  'CAUSE  I  DON'T  WANT  TO  PUT  THE  FIELDER  ON  HIS  GUARD.' 


THE    WORST   POLICY. 

A  FEW  months  ago  there  appeared 
in  Punch  some  examples  of  truthful 
advertisements  issued  hy  a  firm  of 
House  Agents.  The  idea  appears  to 
be  spreading.  We  have  before  us  the 
following  remarkable  announcement  of 
a  Tourist  Company : — 

A  WEEK  IN  DELIGHTFUL  EAUVILLB 

for 

£5  5s.  Od. 

(and  certain  additions  which  will  he 
apparent  to  those  who  read  further). 

SELECT  PARTIES 

(as  select  as  can  be  expected  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  nobody  who  pays  tho  fees 
is  refused)  will  leave  London  every 
Saturday  evening  until  further  notice 
and  return  to  London  on  the  following 
Friday  morning. 

(The  advertised  "  week  "  therefore  in- 
cludes the  days  of  departure  and  return.) 

Charge  (payable  strictly  in  advance) — 
£5  5s.  Od. 

(This,  however,  moans  3rd  Class  travel 
throughout.  For  2nd  Class  the  ad- 
ditional charge  is  £1;  and  for  First 
Class  £2  5s.  Od.) 

Accommodation  is  provided  in  a 
boarding  -  house  in  Eauvillo  (only 


moderately  good),  and  includes  room 
(containing  two,  three  or  even  four 
beds),  light  (which  is  cut  off  at  11  o'clock 
each  night),  attendance  (for  which  the 
tourist  is  expected  to  give  lavish  tips), 
breakfast  (coffee  and  rolls),  and  evening 
dinner  (at  which  the  only  liquid  pro- 
vided free  is  water,  which  we  strongly 
advise  our  clients  not  to  touch)  each  day. 

Extra  charge  for  superior 

accommodation — 

10s.  6d. 

For  first-class  hotel  accommodation — 
£2  2s.  Od. 

If  a  separate  bedroom  is  required  the 
additional  charge  is  12.s.  Gd. 

(It  will  be  noted  that  the  tourist  is 
expected  to  obtain  any  refreshments  ho 
may  require  between  breakfast — which 
is,  of  course,  quite  unsatisfying  to  the 
average  Englishman  —  and  evening 
dinner.  Similarly  he  must  make  the 
best  arrangements  he  can  for  feeding 
himself  on  both  journeys.) 

The    feature    of    this    Tour   is   the 
admirable  series  of 

EXCURSIONS. 

These  are  arranged  to  give  our  clients 
an  opportunity  of  visiting  -what  we 
consider  the  principal  points  of  interest 
in  the  district  and  at  the  same  time  to 
secure  an  adequate  profit  for  ourselves. 


Charge  for  the  series  of  Four 

Excursions : — 

If  booked  in  London...  £3  10s. Od. 
If  booked  in  Eauville. .  £3  15s.  Od. 

Charge  for  any  Single  Excursion  : — 
If  booked  in  London  ...  £1  Os.  Od. 
If  booked  in  Eauville  ...  £1  2s.  Od. 

(The  Excursions  are  personally  con- 
ducted, and  gratuities  to  the  conductor 
are  heartily  encouraged.) 

The  Tourist  must  expect  a  number  of 
further  incidental  expenses,  but  these 
unfortunately  will  not  benefit  us.  If, 
however,  wo  can  devise  any  further 
nuans  of  extracting  money  from  him, 
we  shall  not  hesitate  to  apply  them. 


Recreations  of  Great  Men. 

"•Ho  also   took  great  interest  in  pushing 
electric  tramways  in  Bradford." 

Bradford  Daily  Aryus. 


"  At  the  request  of  Dr.  Maivson,  Mr.  E.  B. 
Waite,  curator  of  the  Christchurch  Museum, 
has  consented  to  prepare  the  report  oil  the 
collection  of  fishes  made  by  the  Australasian 
Antarctic  Expedition.  Mr.  Waite  has  in  hand 
already  the  fishes  which  he  collected  at  the 
Macquarie  and  Auckland  Islands  when  he 
went  to  the  Southern  Ocean  in  Dr.  Mawson's 
exploring  vessel,  the  Aurora,  last  year." 

Christehurch  Press. 

We  are  prepared  to  congratulate  Mr. 
WAITE,  to  take  off  our  hats  to  him — 
but  we  will  not  shake  him  by  tho  hand. 


70 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  1G,  1913. 


THE    SUSPECTED    SEX. 

Girl  (suddenly  noticing  policeman}.  "I  FAHND  IT  LIKE  THAT.    I  NEVER  DONE  IT,  MISTER;    STRAIGHT  I  NEVER!" 


JEUX  D'ESPRIT  AT  DRURY  LANE. 

(.1  tribute  to  the  art  of  the  Russian 
premier  danseur  and  the  two  ladies 
who  accompany  him  in  a  now  famous 
pas  de  trois.) 

NIJINSKY,  there  are  certain  souls 
More  blind  to  beauty  than  a  hen  is, 

Who,  jarred  not  by  the  caracoles 

In  all  your  other  ballet  roles, 
Take  umbrage  at  your  "  Tennis." 

They  do  not  like  your  leaps  and  flings ; 

Some  trifling  disappointment  rankles 
When,  bouncing  lightly  from  the  wings, 
You  flaunt  those  tasteful  trouserings 

Tied  tightly  round  the  ankles. 

They  grumble  at  the  ladies'  skirts, 

The  Post-Impressionistic  setting ; 
They  muse  on  Wimbledon ;  it  hurts 
To  see  you  waste  your  time  on  flirts 
And  otiose  curvetting. 

But  I,  I  have  the  hidden  key 

To  that  coy  dance,  where  others  lack 

it; 

I  comprehend  the  mystery; 
The  large  ball  does  not  bother  me, 
Nor  yet  the  blood-hued  racquet. 


You  have  the  core,  the  inner  truth 

(All  errors  in  the  husk  it  pardons) 
Of  tennis,  not  the  game  sans  ruth, 
But  tennis,  well-beloved  of  youth 
In  old-world  English  gardens. 

With  two  fair  maidens  at  your  call 

Amid  parterres  of  bright  geraniums, 
Grown  tired  of  hunting  for  the  ball 
You  yield  a  captive  to  their  thrall 
And  kiss  them  on  the  craniums. 

But  this  to  me  most  clearly  shone, 
Fantastic  sprite  from  Eastern  Europe, 

That  only  three  of  you  were  on ; 

And  where,  I  ask,  was  James  or- John 
Who  helped  to  make  the  four  up  ? 

A  shadowy  motive  seemed  to  go 
Through  all  those  steps  and  still  en- 
liven : 

"Shall  we  pursue  the  ball ?    Not  so ; 

It  was  not  we  who  whacked  it.     No ; 
The  criminal  was  Ivan." 

But  where  was  Ivan  ?    Fancy  sped : 
Through  all  the  dance's  twisting 

mazes 

I  nursed  his  picture  in  my  head, 
Couched  lowly  in  the  strawberry  bed 
Stuffing  himself  like  blazes. 


This  is  the  triumph  of  all  art, 

Especially  its  latest  model — 
Symbolic  images  to  start 
Of  things  unseen,  of  worlds  apart. 
***** 
The  press  critiques  were  twaddle. 

EVOE. 

"  Apart  from  the  honour  of  the  thing  there 
is  little  material  profit  awaiting  Mr.  Alfred 
Austin's  successor,  the  salary  attached  to  the 
post  being  only  a  paltry  £70  a  year,  with  an 
allowance  of  £-21  in  lieu  of  the  traditional  sack 
of  butt." — Liverpool  Courier. 

Everybody  is  talking  about  Butt — the 
new  breakfast  food.  Small  sack  5/-, 
larger  sack  7/6. 

"  On  opening  a  double  dark  slide  of  book- 
form  the  loose  plate  will  have  its  back  towards 
the  plate  which  is  fastened  in,  and  tho  lo.?a 
plate  will  ba  the  one  in  the  lower  (odd) 
number  of  the  slide." — Photography. 

One  of  the  things  we  wanted  to  know. 


"At  the  conclusion  of  the  lecture,  Mr.  Peter 
Warren,  in  the  name  of  the  subscribers, 
handed  over  to  the  energetic  secretary,  Mr.  S. 
Wood,  a  handsome  oak  dresser." 

Cullompton  Deanery  Parish  Mayazint, 

It  is  Mr.  PETER  WARKEN  who  strikes 
us  as  the  really  energetic  man. 


PUNCH.  OB  THE  LONDON  CHABIVARI.— JULY  16.   1913. 


A  WAY  THEY  HAVE  IN  THE  BALKANS. 

GREECE.  "NOW    HOW    DO    WE    DIVIDE    THESE    BULGARIAN    SPOILS— SUPPOSING    WE 

GET    'EM?" 

SERVIA.  "WHY,    MY    DEAR    FELLOW,    AREN'T    YOU    AND   I    ALLIES?     OF    COURSE    WE 
FIGHT   EACH    OTHER    FOR    'EM." 


JULY  16,  19]  3.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


73 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DlABY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 

II.  use  of  Commons,  Monday,  July  1. 
— "  The  Angel  of  Death  is  abroad  in 
tho  land."  Onco  again  the  PREMIER 
stood  at  tho  Table  in  presence  of  a 
crowded,  hushed  assembly,  beads 
reverently  uncovered  as  if  in  the  actual 
ico  of  Death.  It  was  only  a  few 
weeks  ago  that  lament  was  raised 
for  G EON; '•>'•  WYNDIIAM.  To-day  it  is 
tho  sudden  cutting-off  of  ALFRED 
j  that  makes  the  House  of 
Commons  a  house  of  mourning. 

Points  of  resemblance  make  more 
striking  the  close  se- 
quence of  their  deaths. 
Both  men  were,  in  the 
prime  of  life;  both  when 
last  seen  at  Westmin- 
ster were  apparently  in 
full  enjoyment  of  health 
and  strength ;  both, 
having  by  sheer  capa- 
city won  their  way  to 
high  place  in  tho  ranks 
of  their  Party,  seemed 
to  have  before  them  a 
long  career  of  useful 
work  ;  upon  both  with 
awful  suddenness  came 
the  end. 

There  was  one  notable 
absentee  from  Front 
Opposition  Bench.  It 
seemed  natural,  indeed 
imperative,  that,  as 
happened  in  the  case 
of  GEORGE  WYNDHAM, 
PKINOE  ARTHUR  should 
add  his  wreath  of 
"  myrtles  brown  with 
ivy  never  sere  "  to  the 
garland  laid  by  the 
I'IUME  MINISTER  on  the 
bier  of  his  lost  friend.  Shrinking  from 
that  ordeal  he  did  not  even  trust  him- 
o  be  present.  It  was  left  to  the 
titular  LEADER  OF  THK  OPPOSITION  to 
voice  the  grief  of  ALFRED  LYTTELTON'S 
personal  colleagues  on  the  Front  Bench 
and  the  sorrow  of  tho  Party  he  graced 
and  strengthened  by  his  comradeship. 

Not  least  arduous  among  the  duties 
pertaining  to  office  of  Party  Leader 
is  that  of  from  time  to  time  paying  a 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  great  man 
dead.  On  an  historic  occasion  DISRAELI, 
called  to  fill  the  part,  was  so  prostrated 
by  emotion  that  he  inadvertently  appro- 
priated a  purple  patch  from  a  funeral 
oration  by  a  French  statesman,  incor- 
porating it  in  what  was  presented  to 
the  House  of  Commons  as  his  personal 
lamentation.  Mr.  GLADSTONE  was  a 
master  of  the  art ;  so  in  differing  styles 
was  CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN  and  is 
PRINCE  ARTHUR.  SARK,  who  has 


listened  to  a  long  succession  of  funeral 
speeches  delivered  from  either  side  of 
the  Table,  testifies  that  for  genuine 
feeling,  simplicity  of  construction  and 
exquisiteness  of  phrasing  few  have 
equalled,  none  surpassed,  tnePBBlOBB'a 
brief  speech,  uttered  with  faltering 
voice  under  strain  of  emotion  that  more 
than  once  threatened  breakdown. 

As  he  said,  ALFRED  LYTTELTON  "  has 
left  behind  him  no  resentment  and  no 
enmity,  nothing  but  a  gracious  memory 
of  a  manly  and  winning  personality,  the 
memory  of  one  who  served  with  un- 
stinted measure  of  devotion  his  genera- 


that,  in  spite  of  angry  difference  on  a 
particular  question,  there  exists  between 
Nationalist  and  Ulsterman  a  common 
sympathy,  a  sentiment  of  brotherhood 
jealous  for  each  other's  welfare. 

Came  up  accidentally,  as  such  things 
frequently  do.  PKEMIKH  having  in 
reply  to  question  stated  intention  of 
making  new  appointment  to  Laureate- 
ship,  JOYCE  rose  from  Nationalist  Camp 
with  supplementary  question. 

"  When  this  matter  comes  to  be 
enquired  into,"  ho  said,  "will  consi- 
deration bo  given  to  the  undoubted 


poetic    ability    of    tho   hon.    Member 
tion  and  his  country."  That  a  sentiment  |  for  Nor  h  Armagh  ?  " 

House  taken  by  sur- 
prise. Always  found 
interesting  peisonality 
in  MOORE,  K.C.  His 
interjection  ary  contri- 
butions to  debate  rarely 
fail  in  leading  to  tem- 
porary tumult.  Only  the 
other  week  they  led  to 
his  own  suspension  from 
service  of  the  House. 
As  far  as  may  be  judged 
from  material  supplied 
by  him  to  brief  bio- 
graphical notices  ap- 
pearing in  customary 
channels  of  information, 
if  modesty  permits  him 
to  claim  special  distinc- 
tion over  his  fellow 
Members  in  any  parti- 
cular, it  is  based  on  the 
fact  that  he  "  stands 
6  feet  4£  inches  in  his 
boots."  To  have  dis- 
closure made  that  in 
his  own  country  he,  in 
common  with  another 


Messrs.  WEDGWOOD  and  OUTHWAITB  v.  COLONIAL  SECRETARY. 


in  which  Members  on  both 
shared.  For  the  PREMIER,  beyond  the 
common  grief  at  the  passing  of  one 
"  who  of  all  men  of  this  generation 
came  nearest  to  the  ideal  of  manhood," 
there  was  the  breaking  of  the  link  of 
thirty-three  years'  affectionate  friend- 


MOORE of  earlier  date, 
is  recognised  as  a  poet, 
sides  was  agreeable  surprise. 

PREMIER  took  keenest  interest  in  it. 

"Perhaps  the  hon.  gentleman,"  he 


ship. 
Happy 


in   a  pure  and  healthy   life 


ALFRED  LYTTELTON  was  honoured  in 
his  death  by  rare  eulogy  spoken  before 
a  responsive  audience  gathered  on  the 
historic  stage  it  was  long  time  his 
pleasure  and  his  pride  to  tread. 

Business  done.  —  Home  Eule  Bill 
read  a  third  time  by  majority  of  109  in 
House  of  595  Members. 

Thursday. — One  of  those  little  inci- 
dents that  go  straight  to  susceptible 
heart  of  House  just  happened.  Personal, 
perhaps  trivial,  in  its  range,  to  the 
seeing  eye  it  touches  depth  of  grave 
political  situation.  Seems  to  show 


said,  addressing  JOYCE,   "  will  furnish 
me  with  a  copy  of  the  poems  alluded 


to." 

Incident  temporarily  distracted  in- 
terest from  Plural  Voting  Bill.  Useful 
suggestion  made  from  above  Gangway 
that  specimens  of  the  new  MOORE 
Melodies  shall  be  circulated  with  the 
Votes. 

Business  done. — Plural  Voting  Bill 
discussed  on  Report  Stage. 

Friday.- — Talk  in  tone  of  surprise 
about  the  SPEAKER  permitting  WEDG- 
WOOD and  OUTHWAITE  wantonly  to 
waste  twenty  minutes  of  precious  time, 
first  by  challenging  division  on  formal 
Resolution  moved  from  Treasury  Bench, 
then  by  actually  forcing  one  on  pro- 
posal to  suspend  eleven  o'clock  rule. 
Performance  was  by  way  of  tit-for-tat 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  16,  1913. 


with  COLONIAL  SECRETARY,  who  de 
clined  to  gratify  these  eminent  states 
men  by  repudiating  action  of  Sout 
African  Government  in  repelling  fierc 
riot  in  the  streets  of  Johannesburg. 

Among  the  Standing  Orders  is  on 
specially    designed    to    meet    case    o 
divisions   thus    frivolously    demanded 
It  directs  that  after  the  lapse  of  tw 
minutes    the   SPEAKER    or    CHAIRMAN, 
may  take   the  votes  of  the  House  o 
Committee  by  calling  successively  on 
the  Members  who  support,  and  on  th 
Members  who  challenge,  his  decision 
to  rise  in  their  places.     Thereupon  he 
may  declare  the  determination  of  the 
House  or  Committee  without  a  division 

It   was    evident    that    the    patriots 


THE  BABD  OP  ABMAGH. 
(Mr.  W.  MOOBE,  K.C.) 

below  the  Gangway  had  very  small 
support  for  their  pettish  revolt.  Indeed 
doubtful  whether  if  a  division  were 
called  they  would  have  a  single  Mem- 
ber to  "  tell."  The  event  proved  that 
they  had  seven.  Had  Standing  Order 
140  been  invoked  the  undignified  per- 
formance would  have  been  over  in 
appropriate  manner  within  space  of 
three  minutes. 

"  Why,"  Members  asked  each  other, 
"did  the  SPEAKER,  invariably  master 
of  a  turn  in  the  situation  however 
sudden  and  embarrassing,  ignore  the 
weapon  lying  to  hand  ?  " 

As  may  be  expected  there  was 
sufficient  reason.  Standing  Order  in 
question  requires  that  the  minority 
Members  rising  in  obedience  to 
challenge  from  the  Chair  must  have 
their  names  taken  down  and  printed  in 
the  division  list.  As  it  turned  out 
they,  in  common  with  a  family  known 
to  WORDSWORTH,  were  seven.  They 
might  have  been,  as  has  happened  on 


former  occasions,  thirty-seven  or  even 
more.  In  such  case,  so  far  from  then 
being  saving  of  time,  there  would  hav< 
been  loss,  together  with  infliction  o 
undignified  labour  on  the  Clerk  of  the 
House.  Profiting  by  past  experience 
the  SPEAKER  took  no  risks. 

Moral  obvious.  Either  let  the  Stand 
ing  Order  be  abolished  or  amended  by 
deletion  of  the  provision  that  the  names 
of  the  frivolous  persons  must  be  taken 
down.  It  serves  no  other  purpose 
than  that  of  ministering  to  the  vanity 
and  pursuit  of  self-advertisement  that 
actuate  most  of  these  exhibitions. 

Business     done. — Report    of    Plural 
Voting  Bill  agreed  to. 


LYRA  HYPOCHONDRIACA. 

(A  Chronicle  of  Cures,  with  Biography 
of  a  Survivor.) 

IN  the  distant  days,  when  he  first  began 

To  ponder  the  state  of  his  inner  man, 

He  thought  he  had  found  in  drugs  and 
pills 

A  remedy  for  all  human  ills. 

He    drank   dry   sherry — 'twas    called 
Montilla— 

And  dosed  himself  with  sarsaparilla. 

But  that  was  only  a  passing  phase, 

And  he  shortly  took  to  other  ways. 

For  then  was   the   time   when  the 
medicos 

Were  running  a  boom  in  cheap  Bor- 
deaux— 

A.  cool  but  terribly  acid  drink 

With  a  bouquet  akin  to  that  of  red  ink. 

The  next  of  his  hygienic  lures 
Was  the  ancient  craze  for  water  cures, 
And  as  long  as  ever  the  temperance 
tide  rose 

He  spent  his  summers  at  various  hydros. 

3ut,  in  spite  of  the  eulogy  of  PINDAR, 
When  the  human  throat  is  as  dry  as 

tinder, 

The  blameless  liquid  that  flows  from 
the  pump 

.8  apt  to  give  one  the  double  hump. 
So,  when  his  doctorprescribed  Glenlivet, 

rle  found  himself  as  right  as  a  trivet, 
And  hoped  to  reach  life's  final  coda 
Accompanied  by  whisky  and  soda. 

3ut  here,  it  seems,  he  reckoned  without 

Regard  for  man's  fell  enemy,  gout ; 
And,  after  a  spell  of  dire  disquiet, 
Again  was  forced  to  remodel  his  diet. 

3e  had  to  abandon  all  "  prime  cuts," 

3e  took  to  cutlets,  but  made  of  nuts ; 
And,  like  a  little  child  in  bibs, 

Drank  nothing  stronger  than  cocoa  nibs. 

Tor  three  long  years  he  underwent 
?his  vegetarian  punishment, 
Then  found  (with  SALISBURY)  relief 
n  boiling  water  and  half-cooked  beef. 
Jext  FLETCHER  told  him  how  to  chaw 
Cach  mouthful  by  a  rigorous  law;, 


Until  his  single  occupation 
Throughout  the  day  was  mastication. 
But  since  he  could  not  quite  afford 
To  throw  all  duties  overboard, 
And  could  not  help  himself,  like  SMILES, 
Ho  took  the  counsel  of  EUSTACE  MILES^ 
And  lived  for  nearly  half  a  year 
On  plasmon  and  on  ginger-beer. 
Then,  feeling  for  fresh  adventure  ripe, 
He  tried  the  barefoot  cure  of  KNEIPP, 
And  dabbled  in  the  morning  dew 
With  others  neither  fit  nor  few. 
Then  for  a  while  he  placed  reliance 
In  Mrs.  EDDY'S  Christian  Science, 
Combined  with  lactobacilline 
And  copious  draughts  of  paraffin. 

But  all  these  fads  he  has  forsworn 
And  now  professes  himself  re-born 
And  full  of  beans  as  the  maddest  Mullah 
By  dint  of  massage  of  the  medulla. 
In  short,  he  's  a  full-blown  osteopath, 
But — tell  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Gath— 
Whenever  a  new  cure  comes  along, 
Whether  it's   gentle  or  whether  it's 

strong, 

Such  is  the  faith  that  fires  and  fills  him, 
He'll  give  it  a  trial  although  it  kills 

him. 


Royal   Metamorphosis. 
"Tho  King,  changing  into  a  four-horsed 
:arriage,  drove  through  the  Cattle  section." 

A  characteristic  example  of  kingly  tact. 

"  Silk  Scarves.  Usual  price  5s.  Sale  price 
4s.  Hid."— Advt.  in  "North  Star." 

We  cannot  accept  this  sacrifice. 

1  Little  Lucy,  on  her  way  home  from  school 
along  one  of  the  main  thoroughfares  of  8al- 
'ord,  saw  a  lurry  horse  slip  and  inako  the 
isual  convulsive  effort  to  recover.  It  kept  its 
:eet  with  difficulty.  '  Oh,  mother,'  said  Lucy, 
narrating  the  incident  when  she  got  home,  'it 
was  so  frightened  that  the  electricity  came  out 
at  its  fcet.' " — Manchester  Guardian. 

"  A  little  boy  coming  out  of  the  Gladstone- 
•oad  School  in  Cardiff  this  week  saw  a  lorry 
horse  slip  and  make  the  usual  convulsive 
effort  to  recover.  It  kept  its  feet  with  diffi- 
culty. When,  the  youngster  reached  home  he 
narrated  the  incident  to  his  mother,  and 
said,  '  The  horse  was  so  frightened  that  the 
jlectricity  came  out  at  its  feet.'  " 
'South  Wales  Daily  News"  (two  days  later). 

This  reminds  us  of  a  humorous  remark 
naade  by  our  own  little  Ernest.  He 
was  coming  out  of  Battersea  Park  last 
Tuesday,  when  he  saw  a  lurry  (or  lorry) 
lorse  slip  and  make  the  usual  con- 
vulsive   What?  It  happened  to 

,-our  little  Emily  at  Nottingham  on 
Monday?  Extraordinary  coincidence! 


Hull  has  been  protesting  against  a 
proposed  flight  by  an  airman  on  a 
Sunday.  We  should  have  thought  it 
vould  have  welcomed  anything  which 
rvould  make  people  look  heavenwards. 


JULY  16,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


75 


Lady.  "Now,  WOULD  ONE  OF  YOU  LIKE  TO  SAY  GRACE?"     (Pause  of  misunderstanding.)    "WELL,  WHAT  DOES  YOUR  FATHSU 

BAY  JUST  BEFORE  YOU   BEGIN   TO   EAT?"  Little  Girl.    "OH,    'E   SEZ8,    '  NAH   THEN,    GET  ON  WIV   III'" 


A    MAN    WITHOUT    IDEAS. 

BECAUSE  I  chanced  to  look  up  at  the 
exact  instant  of  time  when  the  illusion 
was  perfect,  I  could  have  sworn — for  a 
second  or  so — that  the  car,  like  some 
swift  grey  beast,  had  sprung  upon  him 
from  behind  with  a  low  roar,  gulped 
him  down  whole  and  vanished,  leaving 
only  a  billow  of  swirling  dust  to  mark 
the  spot  where  she  had  made  him  her 
prey.  It  was  all  illusion,  of  course,  for 
a  moment  later  he  sat  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  road  and  peered  about  him, 
blinking.  A  stammering  crescendo  yell 
from  the  car's  exhaust  horn  came  back 
to  us  through  the  drowsy  dusty  air,  with 
a  curious  effect  of  mockery — already 
she  was  far  off — and  the  tramp  rose, 
rather  alertly  for  a  tramp.  He  limped 
over  to  my  railings  and,  with  one  hand 
clutching  a  post,  stared  down  the  road. 

He  gulped — a  long,  slow  rise,  decline 
and  fall  of  the  "  Adam's  apple "  that 
was  almost  unnerving.  He  was  collar- 
less  and  slightly  scrag-necked,  so  that 
I  got  the  full  benefit  of  it. 

"A  narrow  squeak,"  I  said. 

He  did  not  answer  immediately.  He 
merely  gulped  once  more,  and,  breath- 
ing heavily,  continued  to  survey  the 


slowly  settling  dust  that  the  car  had 
raised. 

Then  quite  suddenly  he  turned  to  me. 

"  A  fine  car,  that,  Sir — magnificent. 
One  of  the  best  I  've  ever  been  knocked 
down  by,"  he  remarked. 

I  had  expected  wrath,  sorrow,  lan- 
guage— anything,  in  fact,  but  praise  of 
the  car,  and  I  think  I  showed  my 
surprise,  for  he  smiled  a  faint,  dusty 
smile. 

"  It  is  my  fatal  habit  of  walking  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,"  he  explained 
rather  shyly.  "  Thinking  ...  I  find 
I  cannot  think  freely  if  I  keep  close  in 
to  the  hedge.  Of  course  I  have  never 
been  actually  struck  by  a  car — but  the 
rush  and  clamour  of  their  close  passing 
sometimes  slightly  confuse  me  and  I 
stumble — as  you  saw.  I  was  wrapt  in 
thought.  Nevertheless,  I  know — 

"  Nuthin',"  said  an  angry  and  con- 
temptuous voice.  "  He  don't  know 
nuthin'.  He's  always  being  rode  over 
— and  he  don't  know  nuthin'." 

The  first  drifter — a  tall ish  person — 
shrank  into  himself  like  a  snail's  horn 
and  quite  suddenly  an  air  of  extra- 
ordinary insignificance  pervaded  him. 

"  He  don't  know  nuthin',"  repeated 
the  voice,  and  I  looked  round  to 


encounter  the  blue-eyed  stare  of  another 
drifter — a  small  man  in  ancient  tweeds, 
very  sunburnt,  with  a  lemon -coloured 
beard  and  a  repaired  nose.  Manifestly 
angry  and  scornful. 

"  We  parts  company  here,"  he  said 
decidedly.  "  But  before  we  parts  I  'm 
going  to  tell  the  truth  about  you. 
Before  your  face  .  .  .  I  've  had  enough 
of  it." 

He  turned  to  me  abruptly ;  the  first 
drifter  resembled  a  captured  apple- 
stealer. 

"  He  calls  himself  a  philosopher  .  .  . 
and  that 's  the  cause  of  everything. 
He  don't  do  anything — except  keep  on 
philosophying.  He  ain't  got  an  idea 
in  his  'ead.  The  rows  we've  had  !  " 

The  little  drifter  made  a  gesture  of 
despair. 

"  And  yet  I  like  the  man — I  don't 
deny  it " — he  ran  his  eye  over  the 
philosopher  rather  as  though  the  latter 
were  a  horse  for  sale  or  a  piece  of 
furniture — "but  he's  too  much  respon- 
sibility. He  keeps  on  with  this  philo- 
sophying all  the  time  and  he  ain't 
practical.  And  it  comes  'ard  on  me 
.  .  .  Mister,  he  ain't  got  what  a 
practical  man  would  call  an  idea  in  the 
i  'ole  of  'is  'ead.  He 's  like  a  child. 


76 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  1G,  1913. 


Helpless.  Walks  in  the  middle  of  the 
road  and  that.  You  seen  for  yourself. 
I  don't  hardly  like  walking  with  him. 
It  makes  folk  stare  and  wonder.  1  f 
he'd  only  try  to  learn  to  get  ideas  into 
his  'ead.  .  .  ." 

The  little  drifter  suddenly  opened 
the  tattered  rush  fish-basket  he  carried, 
disclosing  a  tightly  packed  mass  of 
withered,  yellowish  vegetable  matter, 
which  he  described  as  salad.  His 
comrade,  the  man  without  ideas,  stood 
limply  by,  listening  with  an  extra- 
ordinary appearance  of  guilt. 

"I  had  to  think  out  the  idea  of 
having  some  salad  yesterday,"  said  the 
small  drifter  with  a"  sort  of  bitter  pride, 
"  and  I  left  it  to  him  to  get  it  in  a 
likely-lookir  g  road  of  houses  in  Brock  en- 
hurst,  while  I  worked  another  road  for 
a  bit  of  something  to  go  with  it.  I 
waited  for  him  just  outside  the  village 
about  two  hours  afterwards  with  a 
knuckle  of  ham,  four  fairish  crusts,  a 
heel  of  cold  pudding,  and  a  hand-out 
of  bread-and-cheese.  Presently  here 
he  comes  moonin'  along  the  middle  of 
the  road,  muttering  to  hisself.  He 
stops  at  me  and  '  I  've  got  it,'  he  says. 
'  Well  done,'  I  says,  thinking  of  salad. 
'  Yes,'  he  says,  '  what  England  wants 
is  a  national  wheat  belt  extending  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other, 
where  she  can  grow  her  own  wheat  in 
case  of  war,'  he  says." 

"  At  the  expense  of  the  State,  with- 
out regard  to  the  price  of  wheat, 
imported  or  otherwise,"  put  in  the  first 
drifter  mildly.  "  You  mustn't  forget 
the  State  subsidy." 

The  little  drifter  turned  to  me  with 
a  gesture  of  infinite  despair. 

"  There,  Mister,"  he  exclaimed,  "  now 
you  can  see  for  yourself.  He  thinks 
about  wheat  belts  for  England  when 
he  ought  to  be  berrying  a  bit  of 
salad.  .  .  .  Why,  even  when  an  old 
party  back  by  Eufus's  Stone  took  a 
fancy  to  him  he  couldn't  do  no  good. 
It  was  a  mild-looking,  peaceful  old 
party  and  they  got  talking  together. 
I  watched  'em,  and  estimated  the  old 
party  would  be  worth  a  good  shilling 
to  us,  and  perhaps  more,  if  this  philoso- 
pher only  used  his  'ead  and  got  an  idea 
to  put  up  on  the  old  party.  I  edged 
up  to  'em  a  bit,  and  I  heard  the  old 
party  saying  something  about  he 
wished  all  the  world  was  as  peaceful 
as  the  New  Forest.  But  where  me  or 
you  would  have  agreed  with  him,  Sir, 
this  ridiculous  man  answers  the  old 
party  very  cold.  '  I  've  thought  it  out,' 
he  says,  '  and  I  consider  that  the  world 
will  never  be  at  peace  until  England 
has  captured  all  the  navies  and  made 
'em  all  her  own,  and  supports  one 
great  navy  at  the  expense  of  all  the 
other  countries  that  used  to  have 


'  navies — tax  'em  in  proportion,'  he  says; 
and  the  peaceful  old  party  snorted  and 
went  away  without  a  woid  or  a 
shilling!  " 

The  tall  drifter  looked  ashamedly  at 
his  feet. 

"  He  ain't  got  an  idea  in  his  'ole 
body,  Sir,"  insisted  the  other  excitedly, 
"and  yet  I  like  the  man.  But  we 
parts  company  to-day.  It  would  ruin 
me  to  travel  with  him  any  longer." 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  so  much  his  not 
having  no  ideas  in  his  'ead,"  continued 
the  small  drifter,  "but  ho  ain't  reliable. 
He  spoils  chances  of  odd  money  that 
a  baby  wouldn't  spoil.  And  yet  he  's 
lucky  —  he  gets  plenty  of  chances. 
More  than  me — but  he  don't  uss  'em. 
Up  on  the  downs  near  Winchester  a 
gentleman,  land -measuring  or  some- 
thing, asked  him  to  keep  his  eye  on  a  spot 
on  top  of  the  downs  and  signal  to  him 
when  the  gentlemen  reached  the  place. 
Well,  the  gentleman  climbed  up  the 
downs  about  a  mile  and  turned  round 
and  waited  to  be  signalled  to.  But  he 
never  signalled  a  signal — he  was  staring 
at  the  clouds  in  the  sky,  and  he  told 
me  afterwards  that  he  was  thinking  of 
a  plan  for  rejecting — 

"  Projecting, "  corrected  the  tall 
drifter. 

"  — advertisements  on  to  the  clouds 
by  means  of  skinometergi  aphs — 

"Searchlights,  not  cinematographs," 
protested  the  philosopher  feebly. 

"  All  the  same,"  snapped  the  small 
drifter.  "  Craziness." 

He  half  wheeled  to  the  road,  hesi- 
tated, glanced  at  the  tall  drifter  with 
a  curious  look  that  was  half  affection, 
half  contempt.  "  Comin'  ?  "  he  said  ; 
"  I  '11  give  you  one  more  chance — and 
only  one.  And  don't  forget  it !  " 

"Yes,  John,"  said  the  man  without 
ideas,  and,  with  a  shy  nod  in  my 
direction,  followed  his  partner  down 
the  road. 

I  watched  them  for  a  few  moments. 
Before  they  were  out  of  sight  the 
philosopher,  with  his  head  bowed  in 
thought,  had  edged  out  into  the  exact 
middle  of  the  road  again.  .  .  . 

He  was  a  curious  character,  and  I 
believe  it  is  quite  possible  that,  some 
day,  he  may  even  light  upon  a  notion 
that  will  make  millionaires  of  them 
both — provided  that  a  motor  does  not 
get  him  first.  But  I  am  quite,  quite 
certain  he  will  never  convince  his 
little  partner  that  he  has  ever  had  an 
idea  in  his  life. 


"BEAUTIFYING   COUNSEL." 

Headline  in  "  Evening  News." 
But  alas  for  the  hopes  of  our  K.C.'s 
the  advice  which  followed  was  meant 
j  exclusively  for  the  housewife. 


THE   ROSERY. 

"  'Tis  roses,  roses  all  the  way  " 

A-climbing  to  the  leads, 
Or  blooming  lowlier  mid  the  clay 

Of  half-a-score  of  beds  ; 
Standard  and  dwarf,  they  rise  to  view 

For  all  the  world  to  gorge 
Upon  a  feast  of  scent  and  hue — 

The  handiwork  of  George. 

He  used  to  be  a  restful  type, 

A  youth  of  cultured  brow, 
Who  liked  his  after-breakfast  pipe, 

His  morning  screed,  but  now 
He  leaves  the  hurried  meal  to  seize 

A  syringe  and  a  pail, 
To  wage  a  war  on  aphides, 

On  anthracnose  or  scale. 

He  kens  the  name  of  every  rose, 

The  lingo  of  his  craft, 
The  latest  thing  in  hoe  or  hose, 

The  proper  time  to  graft ; 
And  when  the  morn  is  young  and 
fresh 

He  rises  with  the  thrush 
To  water  Madame  Pauvert  (flesh) 

Or  Mrs.  Sandford  (blush). 

There  was  a  day  when  he  and  I 

Were  seldom  seen  apart, 
But  time  has  rent  the  ancient  tia 

And  others  claim  his  heart, 
While  I  can  never  really  feel 

I  like  his  present  set, 
His  Ulrich  Brunner,  Marechal  Niel, 

And  Marie  Henriette. 

I  deprecate  this  garden  zest, 

My  heart  profusely  bleeds 
For  one  who  bids  the  weary  guest 

Assist  him  with  the  weeds, 
Who  after  dinner  sits  and  dreams  ; 

Of  cankers  and  their  cures, 
Or  talks  for  hours  on  cheerless  themes 

Like  chemical  manures. 

What  though  the  blooms  he  loves  to 

raise 

Bewitch  the  folk  who  call  ? 
What  though    admiring  neighbours 

gaze 

Across  his  garden  wall  ? 
To  me  this  rosery  shall  bring 
Profound  regrets,  shall  be 
Anathema — the  cursed  thing 

That  came  'twixt  George  and  me. 
J.M.  S. 

From  a  Birmingham  evening  paper: 

'"In  the  time  of  Henry  Till,  and  Queen 
Elizabeth,  green  goose  berry  pio  was  at  the 
height  of  its  popularity  ;  and  long  before  their 
time,  in  1276,  it  was  growing  in  Edward  I.'s 
garden  at  Westminster." 

Life,  in  fact,  was  very  easy  for  ED- 
WAHD  I.'s  cook,  even  when,  in  the 
orchards,  a  blight  had  fallen  on  the 
apple-dumplings,  and  the  steak-and- 
kidney-pudding  tree  had  wilted. 


JL-I.Y  16,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI, 


77 


D1NNEI 


"I  SHOULDN'T  MIND,  MESSLF,  IF  THEY  CLOSED  THE  PUBS  A  COUPLE  o'  nouns  SOONER.    WOT  I  SEZ  is,  IP  A  MAN  AIN'T  FULL  BT 
'AI.F-PAST  TEN,  'u  AIN'T  TRYING." 


THE  CKITIC    IN    THE    CEADLE. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, — I  write  to  you 
for  sympathy  and,  if  possible,  advice. 
An  unfortunate  spirit  of  discord  is 
stirring  the  hitherto  unruffled  atmo- 
sphere of  my  homo,  The  Nest,  Trafalgar 
-lioad,  Shriinpville-on-the-Solent.  In  a 
word,  I  am  beginning  to  find  myself 
opposed  at  almost  every  point  by  my 
eldest  (indeed,  I  may  add,  my  only) 
son,  aged  four  months.  Thus  I  am  a 
staunch  upholder  of  compulsory  vacci- 
nation and  a  staunch  enemy  of  all 
daylight-saving  schemes,  and  on  both 
these  vital  questions,  among  many 
others,  he  is  in  complete  disagreement 
with  me. 

It  isn't  that  he  says  much,  if  you 
understand  me.  To  be  accurate,  he 
communicates  with  us  principally  by 
means  of  (1)  a  smile,  (2)  a  sound  not 
unlike  escaping  soda-water,  and  (3)  a 
curious  trick  of  waving  his  legs  in  the 
air.  This  is  where  he  gains  his  advan- 
tage. It  is  impossible  to  argue  witli 
him  on  his  own  ground,  sinca  I  cannot 
reproduce  his  syphon  imitation  and, 
possibly  owing  to  an  attack  of  sciatica 


some  years  ago,  I  have  lost  the  faculty 
of  conversing  with  my  legs. 

The  worst  of  it  is,  he  appears  to 
be  undermining  my  influence  over  his 
mother.  I  will  quote  a  single  instance. 
Last  Saturday  evening  after  tea  my 
wife  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  drawing- 
room,  while  our  son  reclined  in  an 
extremely  unconventional  attitude  on 
a  sofa-cushion.  I  was  explaining  to 
my  wife  how  by  really  unexampled  bad 
luck  I  had  been  defeated  in  a  match 
that  afternoon  by  a  golfer  with  a  handi- 
cap of  sixteen  (my  own  handicap  is 
nominally  twelve,  though  I  frequently 
play  down  to  nine  or  even  less). 
Suddenly  I  became  aware  that  my 
son's  face  wore  a  distinctly  sceptical 
smile.  I  regarded  him  sternly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  suggest,"  I  asked, 
with  a  touch  of  hauteur,  "  that  under 
ordinary  circumstances  Jones  is  capable 
of  beating  me  ?  " 

"  Ssszzz,"  he  replied  cynically. 

"  It  is  false,"  I  retorted. 

He  smiled  and  rapidly  cut  a  perfect 
eight  in  the  air  with  his  right  leg. 

"Baby  grows  more  intelligent  every 
day,"  said  his  mother,  a  woman,  mark 


you,  who  a  year  ago  would  have 
listened  to  my  tale  with  a  sympathy 
so  deep  that  I  should  probably  have 
acquiesced  in  her  ordering  a  new  hat 
from  Bond  Street  by  the  evening  post. 

I  got  up  and  left  the  room. 

The  truth  is,  Mr.  Punch,  I  cannot 
help  feeling  that  my  position  in  this 
house  is  not  what  it  was.  Have  you 
any  hints  that  might  conduce  to  a 
restoration  of  the  status  quo  ? 
Yours  brokenly, 

A  NOSE  OUT  OF  JOINT. 


"  AMONG  THE  CAVES  AND  POT  HOLES. 
INTERESTINU  VISIT  TO  CLAPHAM. 
(Bi-  '  ONE  OP  THEM.')  " 

West  Yorks  Pioneer. 

Oh  to  he  a  pot-hole,  now  that  July 's 
here. 


Ill-timed  Hospitality. 

"Half-way  up  the  straight  the  field  was 
well  lunched." — The  Egyptian  Gazette. 


"His  other  remedy  seems,  to  our  minds, 
worse  httunnhe  disease.  .  It  is  phonetic 
spelling  !  '  '• — Hearth  and  Home. 

It  doesn't  look  like  it. 


78 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[.JULY  16,  1913. 


THE    HICCUP. 

WK  met  in  a  crowd,  in  fact  at  Henley  Eegatta.  He 
lokcxl  quite  an  old  man,  though  1  suppose  he  must  have 
been  my  contemporary— but  even  of  this  I  am  not  quite 
sure.  He  was  trying  to  run  with  a  race,  had  rushed 
violently  into  me,  and  had  panted  a  request  for  pardon. 
Then  a  recognising  look  came  over  his  furrowed  face  and 
ho  did  what  all  the  recognisers  do  :  "  My  dear  old  chap,"  he 
said,  "fancy  meeting  you  here!  Now  I  bet  you  don  t 

remember  me." 

I  kept  to  the  rules  of  the  game,  put  on  a  look  o.  _  bright 
intelligence  and  said  I  remembered  his  face  perfect'y,  but 
that  for  the  moment  his  name  had  escaped  me. 

"Ah  well,"  he  said,  "it's  a  good  many  years  since  we 
met.  Old  tetnpus  does  keep  at  it,  you  know;  he  doesn't 
spare  any  of  us,  does  he?  Though,  for  the  matter  of  that, 
you  've  kept  your  fig—  (hie)  wonderfully.  Bother  this 
hiccup.  I  get  it  at  the  most  inconvenient  times.  Just  like 
a  motor-car  on  a  bad  road.  It 's  indiges —  (hie),  you  know, 
an  awful  nuisance.  Now  I  '11  remind  you  of  something  that 
once  happened  to  (hie)  and  me,  and  then  I  '11  lay  a  thousand 
you  '11  remember  my  name. 

"  It  was  in  eighty — (hie) — no,  it  wasn't ;  it  was  in 
eighty — (hic-hic).  That  was  the  year  in  which  I  shaved  off 
my  (hie),  and  I  can  fix  it  by  that.  You  'd  just  begun  (hie) 
in  the  (hic-hic)  and  I  was  thinking  of  doing  the  same.  It 
was  very  hot  weather  and  I  remember  you  always  wore  a 
white  (hie)  and  patent  leather  (hie).  It  was  the  fashion 
then.  We  weren't  so  careless  about  our  dress  as  they  are 
nowadays.  Why,  I  actually  saw  a  man  walking  along 
(hic-hic)  yesterday  in  a  (hie)  and  a  (hie),  and  nobody 
seemed  a  bit  surprised  about  it.  Well,  one  morning  I  met 
you  in  the  (hic-hic)  and  asked  you  if  you  were  going  to 
(hie)  this  year.  You  said,  yes,  you  were,  and  would  I  join 
the  party.  There  was  just  one  place  left  in  the  (hie)  and 
if  I  could  manage  to  come  you  knew  Mrs.  (Jiic)  would  be 
delighted.  I  said  I  didn't  really  know  her,  but  you  said 
it  didn't  matter;  you'd  introduce  me  properly  and  look 
after  me,  and  it  was  sure  to  be  all  right.  Just  at  that  (hie) 
young  what  's-his-name — dear  me,  now  there 's  a  name  I  've 
forgotten,  but  you  '11  remember  him,  a  short  stout  man  with 
a  regular  (hie)  and  a  (hic-hic) " 

"Belmore,"  I  suggested. 

"  No,  I  don't  know  Belmore.  You  couldn't  mistake  the 
man,  once  you  'd  seen  him.  He  had  a  (hie)  in  the  middle 
of  his  (hic-hic)  and  twisted  his  (hie)  frightfully  when  he 
spoke.  Anyhow,  he  came  up  and  asked  you  if  you  had 
room  for  him  in  your  (hie)  party.  This  was  a  facer,  because 
he  was  about  as  unpop —  (hie)  a  man  as  you  could  find  in 
the  whole  of  (hie).  You  began  to  say  something  about  not 
being  quite  certain  as  to  going  this  year,  as  the  health  of 
your  (hie)  was  giving  the  family  a  good  deal  of  anxiety,  but 
you  'd  let  him  know  later  on.  However,  he  wasn't  going 
to  be  put  off  in  that  way  and  he  started  worrying  you. 
I  thought  it  was  time  to  help  you,  so  I  put  in  my  oar  and 
said, '  My  dear '  (hie) — I  wasn't  bothered  with  these  infernal 
hiccups  then — '  my  dear  chap,'  I  said,  '  can't  you  see  that 
the  whole  thing's  off  this  year?  If  (hie)  can't  undertake 
it  nobody  else  can.  We  '11  hope  for  better  (hie)  next  year.' 
Before  he  could  say  anything  there  was  a  frightful  clatter 
which  made  us  all  jump,  and  a  (hie)  with  his  (hic-hic) 
dangling  on  the  ground  came  dashing  along  right  on  top  of 
us.  You  and  I  got  out  of  the  way  just  in  time,  but  old 
thingummy  wasn't  so  lucky.  It  took  him  right  plumb  in 
the  (Itic),  and  before  you  could  say  (hic-hic)  he  was  sprawl- 
ing on  his  (hie)  and  shouting  for  help.  He  wasn't  much 
hurt — just  a  few  (hie)  and  a  deepish  (hie)  on  his  (hie),  but 
it  settled  his  chances  of  going  to  (hie)  that  year.  It  was  a 


great  blessing  for  us,  for  he'd  have  ruined  any  party  with 
his  (hie)  and  his  (hie).  That's  the  story,  and  now  I'll 
guarantee  you  remember  me." 

But  at  this  moment  another  race  came  past,  and  ho  was 
swept  away  in  a  mob  of  running  enthusiasts.  When  I  last 
heard  him  he  was  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Oh, 
well  rowed  (hie);  you're  gaining.  Keep  it  (hie)  and  get 
(Itic)  of  it." 

If  these  lines  should  meet  his  eye,  will  he  communicate 
his  name  to  me,  c/o  the  Editor?  I  am  tho  tall,  handsome, 
dignified  man,  with  the  blonde  beard,  to  whom  he  talked 
for  some  minutes  outside  the  (Itic)  enclosure  on  the  tow- 
path  side. 

OUR   REVIEW  OF   REVUES. 

To  the  many  and  terrific  attractions  of  "HiGin 
THERE!"  the  dazzlingly  successful  revue  at  the  National 
Classical  Theatre,  is  about  to  be  added  for  one  week  only 
no  less  a  personage  than  ABDUL  HAMID,  ex-Sultan  of 
Turkey,  who  has  been  induced  to  leave  his  retirement  for 
one  week  for  this  novel  engagement.  The  famous  ci-devant 
autocrat  will  recite  in  Turkish  some  of  Mr.  WILLIAM 
WATSON'S  choicest  poetry,  in  a  gorgeous  Oriental  sccna 
entitled  "  The  Seraglio  of  Dubec." 


Although  the  Escurial  is  still  filled  to  overflowing  every 
night  by  the  noble  and  stimulating  revue  entitled  "  THIS 
SIDE  UP,"  the  indefatigable  Messrs.  Bonjour  and  Eemercie 
are  continually  endeavouring  to  paint  their  lily.  For  next 
week  they  promise  us  an  interlude  by  Etienne  Soleil,  the 
champion  French  polisher,  for  whom  a  special  setting  has 
bean  prepared  by  one  of  their  numerous  brilliant  and  witty 
tame  authors. 

It  is  not,  after  all,  true  that  KING  ALFONSO  will  appear 
at  the  Monodrome  during  next  week  in  a  scene  written  for 
him  in  the  fabulously  successful  revue,  "Tnis  WAY  OUT;" 
but  the  ever  alert  management  have  obtained  instead  the 
services  of  La  Goulue,  the  ancient  French  dancer,  now  a 
dontyteuse  famous  in  all  the  foires  of  France  for  her 
"Measures  terribles." 

The  striking  and  gratifying  success  of  the  French  revue 
in  London  has  decided  the  management  to  follow  it  with 
the  vivacious  and  brilliant  piece  from  the  Moulin  d'Or 
which  took  all  Paris  by  storm  last  year.  The  title  of  the 
forthcoming  revue  is  "  MONSIEUK  KT  MADAME  "  ("  Mr. 
and  Mrs.").  

Last  Monday  the  all-conquering  Gramodrome  revue, 
"  OH  !  OH  !  HUGTIME  !  "  for  which  the  "  Revue  King  " 
wrote  his  most  brilliant  libretto,  not  a  word  of  which,  we 
understand,  has  ever  been  departed  from  (surely  a  great 
triumph  in  an  entertainment  of  this  kind  !),  entered  upon 
its  extra  special  edition.  Among  the  most  fascinating  of 
its  "stop  press"  novelties  is  a  burlesque  of  the  Oxford  and 
Cambridge  cricket  match,  with  rag-time  songs  between  the 
overs,  while  Mr.  Beerbohm  Vienna,  from  Jamaica,  gives  an 
exhibition  of  how  the  Mango  should  really  be  eaten. 


The  cast  of  a  magnificent  and  superb  revue  at  the  Solace, 
entitled,  "  RETURNED  EMPTY,"  is  to  be  still  further  strength- 
ened in  a  novel  way  by  the  addition  of  three  troupes  of  rag- 
time singers  from  America,  each  from  a  different  Southern 
state,  whose  speciality  it  is  to  sing  all  together,  each  of  the 
three  troupes  executing  a  different  song.  The  effect  is  said 
to  be  very  startling,  combining  as  it  does  the  delights  of 
music  with  the  excitement  of  a  battle  or  race. 


JULY  16,  3913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  T1LK  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


Retired  Haberdasher  (late  of  London') .  "Now  THEN,  'ENBY,  I'M  GDIS'  TO  HAVE  A  LABGE  PAKTY  'EBB  NEXT  WEEK,  AND  I  SHALL 

EXPECT    AN    UNLIMITED    QUANTITY    OP   MILK,    CBEAJI    AND    BUTTER.      AFTER   THAT    THE    COWS    CAN    'AVB    A    BEST   TILL    MB    AN*    MBS.    P. 

RETURNS  FROM   THE   CONTENONG." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MR.  JACK  LONDON  is,  I  think,  the  most  exhausting  writer 
I  know.  Lest  this  should  bo  taken  for  other  than  the 
genuine  tribute  I  intend  it  to  be,  I  had  better  hasten  to 
explain.  What  I  mean  is  that  he  can  bring  physical  hard- 
ships and  fatigue  so  convincingly  before  the  reader  that,  for 
my  own  part,  I  rise  from  some  chapters  of  his  writing 
feeling  as  if  I  ached  in  every  limb.  I  had  this  sensation 
stronger  than  ever  just  now,  after  reading  Smoke  Bellew 
(MILLS  AND  BOON).  Here  Mr.  LONDON  is  back  in  that 
Klondyke  country  that  he  has  made  specially  his  own,  and 
has  already  mined  with  such  excellent  results.  Smoke 
Bellew  however  has  this  to  distinguish  him  from  other 
heroes  of  the  district,  that  you  make  his  acquaintance 
while  he  is  still  a  genuine  chechaquo  (I  put  in  that  word 
because  it  sounds  jolly  and  I  have  just  learnt  it— the  mean- 
ing is  tenderfcot,  or  amateur,  or  what  you  will)  and  watch 
the  process  of  his  gradual  hardening.  This  is  where  the 
aches  come  in.  I  defy  anybody  to  read  of  Smoke's  journey 
to  the  Yukon,  a  chapter  that  deserves  to  be  called  an  epic 
of  fatigue,  without  sharing  the  sensations  of  its  hero.  It 
would,  1  am  sure,  give  an  appetite  to  the  most  dyspeptic. 
Arrival,  Smoke  and  his  partner  Shorty  have  of  course 
adventures  in  plenty,  culminating  in  a  breathless  race  with 
dog-teams,  that  leaves  them  with  half  of  a  million-dollar 
claim  and  the  hero  with  a  prospect  of  matrimonial  bliss. 
Myself  I  didn't  caro  over-much  for  his  prospective  bride; 
and  I  doubt  if  Mr.  LONDON  did  either.  I  found  it  hard  to 


forgive  her  the  trick  by  which — in  the  early  stages  of  their 
acquaintance — she  had  deprived  Smoke  and  Sfwrly  of  the 
results  of  their  night  march  to  Squaw  Creek.  But  you  do 
not  go  to  Mr.  LONDON  for  wedding-bells.  You  go  to  him 
for  tales  of  endurance  and  for  sheer  breath-taking  adven- 
ture, and  here  there  is  no  living  writer  that  I  know  of  to 
equal  him.  He  has  them  all  beat. 

I  believe  that  Mrs.  COXON,  whose  new  novel,  April 
Panhasard  (LANE),  has  just  held  my  attention,  would  have 
found  everything  simpler  had  she  not  been  determined  to 
enforce  sprightliness  in  her  characters.  April  Panhasard 
herself  is  clearly  a  very  nice  agreeable  woman,  but  she  is 
compelled  to  wriggle  into  wit  every  time  that  she  opens  her 
mouth ;  and  this  compulsion,  together  with  the  fact  that 
"  her  hair  in  the  shadowy  light  gleamed  like  a  saint's  aura, 
burnished,  mystical,"  prevents  her  from  showing  the  natural 
simple  side  of  her  character.  She  goes  into  retirement 
whilst  her  divorce  case  is  proceeding,  tells  her  neighbours 
(all  of  them,  by  the  way,  as  sprightly  as  herself)  that  she  is 
a  widow,  goes  about  with  a  young  man,  loves  an  American, 
and  of  course  starts  the  sprightly  tongues  wagging.  Then 
Mrs.  COXON  obviously  felt  that  this  little  plot  was  neither 
long  enough  nor  strong  enough  for  three  hundred  pages,  so 
she  brought  in  some  characters  out  of  an  earlier  novel  of 
hers,  with  a  child  who  is  prettily  loquacious  until  he  is 
suddenly  killed  in  the  hunting-field.  The  child's  death  is 
well  written  and  shows  one  that  Mrs.  COXON  would  write 
a  fine  novel  could  she  but  allow  her  people  to  speak 
and  act  for  themselves  and  could  she  avoid  such  sentences 


80 


rr.Nou,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  16,  1913. 


as  "A  faint  thrill  of  fear  raced  through  her  veins,"  or  "A 
little  sob  escaped  her,  wrung  from  her  full  heart."  I  like 
her  conception  of  her  characters,  but  they  aro  not  given 
any  very  interesting  things  to  do  and  their  emotions  are 
far  too  crudely  stated.  . 

Much  is  expected  from  a  son  of  the  man  who  wroto  The 
Life  of  Lord  Macaulay.  The  reader  need  not  fear  disap- 
pointment in  taking  up  The  Life  of  John  Bright  (CONSTABLE), 
by  GEORGE  MACAULAY  TKEVELYAN.  His  literary  skill  is 
shown  in  connection  with  various  episodes,  notably  in  the 
admirably  condensed  but  vivid  narrative  of  the  Corn  Law 
League  Campaign,  culminating  in  the  surrender  of  PEEL 
and  the  establishment  of  originally  obscure  men  like  BRIGHT 
and  COBDEN  in  the  foremost  rank  of  statesmanship,  their 
aid  courted  by  both  camps.  Disclosure  is  made  of  a 
remarkable  overture  by  DISRAELI  when  defeat  of  his  Budget 
of  1852  appeared  imminent.  Late  on  a  December  evening 
he  sent  a  note  to 
BRIGHT  at  the  Reform 
Club,  asking  him  to 
call  at  Grosvenor  Gate. 
The  summons  was 
obeyed.  Straightway 
DISRAELI  propounded 
a  scheme  whereby 
BRIGHT,  COBDEN  and 
MILNER  GIBSON,  ex- 
tremest  Radicals  of  the 
day,  were  to  enter  the 
Tory  Cabinet.  BRIGHT'S 
scornful  rejection  of  the 
proposal  did  not  pre- 
vent its  repetition 
when,  a  few  years  later, 
DISRAELI  found  himself 
in  another  fix. 

Such  flattering  atten- 
tion had  the  effect  of 
increasing  natural  ten- 
dency on  BHIGHT'S  part 
to  have  a  good  conceit 
of  himself.  During  the 
last  twenty  years  of  his 
life  this  assumed  some- 
thing of  a  tone  of 
arrogance.  An  example  is  supplied  in  a  remark  he 
made  comparing  his  style  of  oratory  with  another's. 
"  When  I  speak,"  he  said,  "  I  strike  across  from  headland 
to  headland.  Mr.  GLADSTONE  follows  the  coast  line,  and 
when  he  comes  to  a  navigable  river  he  is  unable  to  resist 
the  temptation  of  tracing  it  to  its  source."  There  is  truth 
and  force  in  this.  But  it  is  the  sort  of  thing  that  had  been 
better  said  by  somebody  else. 

Among  other  diversions,  the  author  tells  a  capital  story 
about  BRIGHT'S  famous  citation  of  the  cave  of  Adullam.  A 
French  historian  quoting  it  explained  to  his  countrymen 
that  it  was  an  "  allusion  A  un  passage  de  la  bible.  Adullam 
avail  voulii  tuer  David."  In  a  more  familiar  reference,  Mr. 
THKVELYAN  is  not  so  successful.  Writing  of  Lord  JOHN 
MANNERS'  couplet  about  "our  old  nobility,"  he  describes  it  as 
"  a  Frankenstein  that  was  to  pursue  its  author  through  life." 
Alas,  poor  Frankenstein,  ever  condemned  to  be  thus  mis- 
taken for  his  own  petard  after  being  hoist  with  it.  Mr. 
THEVELYAN'S  admirable  work,  invaluable  to  the  student 
of  modern  history,  is  illustrated  by  various  cartoons 
reproduced  from  Punch,  who,  amongst  other  services  to 
mankind,  immortalized  an  eyeglass  JOHN  BRIGHT  never 
wore. 


"For  heaven's  sake,  what  is  the  matter?  Let's  hear  it 
and  have  done  with  it ! "  This  is  what  I  came  near  to 
crying  aloud  many  times  during  the  early  chapters  of 
James  Ilurd  (HEINEMANN).  But  when  I  knew  the  horror 
of  course  it  was  by  no  moans  dono  with.  For  deliberate 
and  unshrinking  analysis  of  a  hateful  situation,  commend 
me  to  Mr.  E.  O.  PEOWSE.  Of  the  great  cleverness  of  his 
book  there  can  bo  no  question ;  considered  as  an  entertain- 
ment, I  would  rather  go  to  the  dentist's  than  endure  it 
again.  It  is  impossible  to  give  an  idea  of  it  without  reveal- 
ing the  plot ;  but  this  matters  less  since  it  is  the  treatment 
for  which  it  should  be  read  by  all  who  value  artistry  more 
than  good  spirits.  Well,  then,  James  Ilurd  and  his  wife 
Evelyn  had  one  child,  a  boy  of  seven  years,  who,  as  the 
result  of  an  accident,  had  become  maimed  incurably  both  in 
body  and  mind.  And  the  parents,  having  for  his  sake  left 
the  town,  where  they  both  enjoyed  full  and  vigorous  lives, 
for  the  depths  of  the  country,  had  nothing  to  do  but  brood 

and  develop  suspicions 
and  estrangements  and 
hatreds.  So  at  last  one 
day  the  father  took  the 
boy  for  a  walk  to  the 
cliff-edge  —  and  came 
back  alone.  You  could 
hardly  call  it  a  pleasant 
story,  could  you?  It 
is  told  by  a  third  per- 
son, an  old  friend  of  the 
unhappy  parents,  who 
is  staying  with  them; 
and  this  particular 
method  adds  a  quality 
of  detached  and  almost 
imemotional  dry  ness  to 
the  tragedy  that  makes 
it  far  more  horrible. 
It  is  indeed  a  fine  piece 
of  literary  work,  power- 
ful, subtle,  and  sinister. 
But  I  should  ba  very 
careful  as  to  the  per- 
sons to  whom  I  recom- 
mended it. 


FORGOTTEN  DEEDS  OF  VALOUR. 

BALBUS,  WHO  HAS  RENTED  THE  FISHING   ON   THE   RUBICON, 
BUT  FIRMLY  INSISTS  ON  JULIUS  C^ESAB  CROSSING  IT  LOWEB  DOWN  SO  AS  NOT  TO 
DISTURB  THE  BEST  POOL  IN  THE  RIVER. 


Mr.  GOAD  has  chosen 
a  strange  subject  for  the  novel-form  in  The  Kingdom 
(HEINEMANN) — nothing  less  than  the  struggle  for  peace 
and  truth  and  perfect  charity  in  the  soul  of  a  modern  (and 
something  of  a  modernist)  friar,  Padre  Bernardo.  Those 
who  recognise  this  travail  of  a  soul  to  be  a  legitimate  and 
vitally  tragic  theme  will  here  welcome  a  treatment  of  it 
which  is  marked  by  much  sympathy  and  a  quite  exceptional 
detachment.  The  devil's  advocate  has  the  fullest  licence 
notwithstanding  that  the  author  stands  for  the  Catholic 
point  of  view  and  for  his  saintly,  sore-tried  hero  who  finally 
enters  into  his  kingdom  of  self-conquest  and  peace.  The 
littlenesses,  bigotries  and  misunderstandings  of  conventual 
life  are  in  particular  suggested  with  a  keen  but  not  un- 
charitable emphasis,  and  it  would  seem  that  so  detailed  an 
impression  could  only  be  the  work  of  ons  who  had  actually 
passed  through  the  routine  and  struggle  of  the  life.  The 
secondary  theme,  the  marriage  of  Orlando  the  singer, 
Bernardo's  friend,  and  Vittoria,  his  cousin,  is  well  handled 
so  as  to  bring  out  the  deep  human  sympathies  of  the  friar. 
Old  Father  Fidelis,  a  modern  ST.  FRANCIS,  living  apart  and 
silent  and  on  the  best  of  terms  with  toad  and  lizard  and 
stoat  and  every  sort  of  little  woodland  brother  and  sister, 
looks  very  much  like  a  portrait  and  is  good  to  meet. 


JULY  23.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OH  TIIK   LONDON   CflAHIVAUf. 


81 


CHARIVARIA. 

ROI'MANIA'S   motto  upon  advancing 
into  Bulgaria  :— "  J'y  suis,  j'y  rente,  "- 
a.  fi-i'n  translation  of  which  is,  "I  am 

hcio,  I  Roumania." 
>:-  * 

Is  it  quite  fair  to  describe  the 
ambulance  which  has  boon  devised  by 
Mr.  S.  F.  CODY  as  our  first  air-hospital? 
Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  Sanatoria  were 
in  the  air  for  a  very  long  time. 

:;•     :|: 

A  propos,  the  report  that  a  million 
pound  hotel  is  to  be  erected 
on  the  site  of  St.  George's 
lln^pital  has  led  to  a  curious 
misunderstanding  among  in- 
sured persons.  They  imagine 
that  this  new  structure  will 
be  one  of  those  sanatoria 
which  the  CHANCELLOR  as- 
sured them  a  little  while  ago 
would  be  "  sort  of  first-class 
hotels."  ...  ^ 

Meanwhile  it  is  said  that 
it  is  the  intention  of  those 
intarested  in  this  hotel  scheme 
also  to  buy  up  Buckingham 
Palace  with  a  view  to  its 
being  used  as  a  cottage- 
anncxe  for  simple-lifers. 

*     :|:         .  .     .  .  ' 

It  has  been  proposed,  in 
consequence  of  the  Suffragist 
outrages  in  the  House  of 
('•.minions,  that  the  Gallery 
shall  be  close J.  The  idea, 
however,  does  not  commend 
itself  to  certain  of  the  Mem- 
b  e  r  s ,  who  must  have 
something  to  play  up  to. 

It  is  much  more  likely  that 
members  of  the  Public,  before 
being  admitted,  will  have  to 
submit  to  being  searched. 
Mr.  LAWRENCE  H  o  r  s  M  A  N 
hinted  at  this  possibility  the 
other  day  when  he  said,  "  In  the  war 


private   address,   tho   address  of   their 

prison.  $   * 


existence  of   the   requisite   agreement, 


and  stigmatises  his  opponents  as  "the 
hyenas   of   grand    opera."     The  Com- 
Yoluntary  contributions  towards  the  pany,  wo  understand,  retorts  that  that 


to  gird    the    loins, 
necessary  to  strip." 


Now  that  the  Plural  Voting  Bill'  Surprisingly  low  prices  for  old  mas- 
8  bound  to  become  law,  many  Unionists  ters  were  realised  at  the  sale  of  the 
are  concentrating  their  attention  on  the  late  Duke  of  SUTHERLAND'S  pictures  at 
problem  of  how  to  abolish  the  Singular  CHRISTIE'S,  and,  though  no  living  artist 
Voting  which  returned  the  Liberals  to  |  was  in  this  case  affected  by  the  slump, 

a  meeting  of  painters  of  old   masters 


power. 

Plural    Residence,    which   will   still 
be  permitted    after    the    abolition    of 


equipment  of  our  Defence  Forces  con-  ]  hyena  laughs  longest  who  laughs  last, 
tinuo  to  come  in.     Tho  lack  of  mounts 

for  our  Territorials  scums  to  have  struck  !  According  to  Mr.  CHARLES  B.  COCH- 
the  popular  imagination,  and  it  is  said  RAN  the  Church  of  St.  Bartholomew 
that  during  the  past  week  tho  War  i  tho  Great  was  founded  by  a  Jester. 
Oflico  has  received  from  various  parts  |  Here,  surely,  is  another  pulpit  for  the 
of  the  Empire  offers  of  an  elephant,  three  Rev.  HARRY  LAUDER. 
donkeys,  a  couple  of  trained  ostriches, 

an  old-fashioned  high  bicycle,  a  run- '      Mr.  HENRY  ARTHUR  JONES  is  gener- 
about,  and  a  zebra.  i  ous.     He  has  now  made  it  possible  for 

all  of  us  to  obtain  his  "  1  )ivine 
Gift  " — on  paying  for  it. 

:':•     * 

"  Bombardier  WELLS  and 
PAT  O'KEEFK  have  signed 
articles  to  box  twenty  rounds 
at  the  Ring  on  August  Bank 
Holiday."  This,  we  under- 
stand, is  not  WAGN-BB'S 
"  Ring,"  in  spite  of  tho  pre- 
cedent of  the  Revues. 
'•'•...* 

Our  Field  Sports  day  by  day, 
as  pictured  in  The  Liverpool 
Echo : — 
"FIELD    SPORT    EDITION. 

AT  BlSLEy. 
HOOTING  FOR  THE  EMPIRE  TROPHY." 


The  German  cruiser  Sleltin 
came  into  collision  last'  weak 
with  the  American  yacht 
Cassandra.  While  the  latter 
lost  her  jib-boom,  the  Stettin 
was  holed  above  the  water- 
line,  and  the  yacht  claims  tha 
victory. 

*  * 

By  the  way,  the  first  prize 
in  our  International  Story 
Competition  goes,  this  week, 
to  the  following  contribution 
from  New  York : — 

"Mr.  George  Ensor,  of  Pied- 
mont, West  Virginia,  while  fishing 
near  Mountaindale,  was  attacked 
by  more  than  a  dozen  snakes  measuring  from 
four  to  six  feet  in  length.  Before  ho  could 
beat  them  off  they  entwined  themselves  about 
him,  binding  his  arms,  hands,  and  feet. 

"  Mr.  Ensor,  after  vainly  endeavouring  to 
loose  his  arms  and  legs,  had  tho  presence  of 
mind  to  roll  over  to  a  fire  ho  had  built  to  cook 
his  meal.  His  clothes  caught  fire,  and  the 
snakes,  scorched  and  sizzling,  untwined  them- 
selves from  his  body. 

"He  then  threw  himself  into  tho  stream, 
extinguishing  his  burning  clothes." 

#   * 

* 

It  looks  rather  as  if  it  is  not  only 
our  Territorials  who  find  a  difficulty  in 
obtaining  mounts.  In  an  account  of  a 


Tlie  Landlady  (to  applicant  for  apartments  with  sea-vietc). 
NOW!    WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OF  THAT  FOB  A  SEA-VIEW?" 


THKUK, 


The  Australian  Labour  Party  is  now 


against  evil  it  is  not  always  sufficient  i  agitating  for  a  six-hours'  day.     We  are 
Sometimes    it   is  I  not  yet  informed  how  many   minutes 


there  are  to  be  in  each  hour. 


is  to  be  held  to  consider  the  situation. 
The   Metropolitan   Opera  Company 


Plural    Voting,   is    being    encouraged  of   New   York   is   bringing   an   action   recent    royal    function    The  Liverpool 


by  the  Cat-and-Mouse  Act,  and  it   is   against   Mr.    HAMMERSTEIN,  with   the 


>~ed  that  some  of  our  leading 
Saffragettes  should  print  on  their 
visiting-cards,  in  addition  to  their 


object  of  restraining  him  from  produc- 
ing  grand   opera   in   that  city  before 


Echo  says  : — "  After  formal  presenta- 
tions had  been  made  their  Majesties 
left  the  station  accompanied  by  an 


19zO.     Mr.   HAMMEBSTEIN  denies   the 'escort  of  Life  Guards  in  open  carriages.' 


82 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  13,  1913. 


MORE  LEAVES   FROM  THE  BEERBOHM  TREE 
OF    KNOWLEDGE. 

[In  friendly  imitation  of  Sir  HKKBKKT  TREE'S  recently-published 
Th"tnjhts  and  Aftcr-tliauyliti.] 

EVERY  true  craftsman  should  take  joy  and  pride  in  his 
handiwork  apart  from  the  incident  of  wages.  And  here  we 
may  learn  a  lesson  even  from  "  Our  Betters."  There  exist 
men  and  women  of  the  loftiest  birth  who  are  so  enamoured 
of  stage-craft  that  they  will  actually  pay  large  sums  to  be 
allowed  to  play  the  part  of  .walking  gentleman  and  walking 
lady.  The  words  of  the  late  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON  are 
their  cry  :  "  Give  us  the  guerdon  of  going  on  ! ' 

To  get  what  they  want  is  the  peculiar  faculty  of  the 
English  race.  I  once  met  an  Englishman  who  had  made 
a  successful  tour  through  the  Fatherland  with  the  most 
limited  knowledge  of  the  vernacular.  He  knew  only  one 
word  of  German,  and  that  was  English.  It  was  "  Beer." 
Yet  his  needs  were  always  satisfied. 

When  power  passes  from  the  hands  of  "  Our  Betters  " 
into  those  of  the  People— a  risky  translation,  yet  many  such 
have  reached  us  from  the  original  French — I  shall  look  for 
the  reign  of  Universal  Peace.  I  have  an  instinctive  horror 
of  war.  Apart  from  bloodshed — almost  always  a  marked 
concomitant  of  sanguinary  disputes— war  is  the  enemy  of 
Art,  and  distracts  attention  from  the  theatres. 

I  have  in  my  time  played  the  part  of  great  and  bloody 
captains  like  Macbeth,  but  my  heart  was  never  in  the  work  ; 
nor  were  my  legs  either.  I  would  always  sooner  play 
BEETHOVEN.  BEETHOVEN  created ;  Macbeth  destroyed. 
Surely  there  is  a  difference  here. 

The  modern  critic  rails  at  the  star-system.  Yet  it  is  one 
of  those  eternal  arrangements  which  have  a  heavenly  origin. 
You  have  only  to  look  at  the  firmament  on  a  fine  night  and 
you  will  see  stars. 

How  often,  as  an  actor-manager,  have  I  envied  mediocrity ! 
So  gentle  is  the  treatment  it  gets  from  the  critics. 

The  actor  is  independent  of  recognised  laws — the  laws 
that  govern  blank  verse,  for  instance.  He  needs  no  educa- 
tion and  often  gets  none.  He  requires  no  tools  or  acces- 
sories. The  painter  has  his  palette,  the  sculptor  his  chisel, 
the  poet  his  blotting-pad,  the  musician  his  loud  pedal ;  but 
the  actor  has  just  himself. 

AFTER-THOUGHT.    . 

I  had  forgotten  that  the  actor  from  time  to  time  makes  use 
of  certain  aids,  such  as  grease  and  pigments  and  wigs  and 
costumes.  Also  of  words,  generally  ivritten  by  somebody  else. 
How  stupid 'of  me!  What  would  the  greatest  Hamlet  be 
without  SBJ.KSPEARE  ? 

The  latest  hand-maiden  of  the  drama  is  the  gramophone. 
It  helps  to  correct  the  evanescence  of  the  actor's  triumphs, 
permitting  posterity  to  appreciate  what  might  otherwise 
appear  incredible  in  the  reports  of  the  time.  I  myself  have, 
by  request,  done  two  gramophone  records  for  the  British 
Museum — in  the  respective  voices  of  Hamlet  and  Falstaff, 
In  a  spasm  of  humour  I  once  said  that  I  was  so  nervous 
that  I  spoke  the  speech  of  Hamlet  in  the  voice  of  Falstaff, 
and  that  of  Falstaff 'in  the  voice  of  Hamlet.  This  statement 
(fictional,  of  course,  as  humour  so  often  is)  was  received 
with  scepticism  by  a  critic  who  suggested  that  I  had  spoken 
them  both  in  the  voice  of  BEERBOHM  TREE.  Even  a 
critic/  it  will  be  recognised,  may  be  something  of  a  humorist. 

The  absence  of  a  "  fourth  wall "  on  the  stage  is  no  doubt 
desirable  for  the  sake  of  unbroken  communication  between 
the  actors  and  the  audience ;  but  it  is  destructive  to  that 
complete  illusion  which  is  the  end  of  all  art,  seeing  that 
very  few  actual  rooms  are  constructed  without  this  feature. 
In  my  more  creative  moments  I  have  thought  of  introducing 


it  at   His  Majesty's,  and  here  I  am   happy,  for  once,  in 
enjoying  the  support  of  some  of  my  most  malevolent  critics. 

I  have  been  accused,  by  a  nameless  writer,  of  overwhelm- 
ing SHAKSPEARE  under  an  avalanche  of  irrelevant  scenery. 
My  final  answer  to  these  criticisms  is  that  my  revivals  have 
paid.  The  ultimate  test  of  all  Art  (and  when  1  talk  of  Art 
I  exclude  painting,  sculpture,  poetry,  music,  architecture, 
&c.,  except  as  they  are  ancillary  to  the  drama)  is  the 
approval  of  the  paying  public. 

In  the  setting  of  a  play  there  must  either  be  frank  con- 
vention or  an  attempt  at  complete  illusion.  If  you  cannot 
reproduce  the  atmosphere  of  ancient  Elsinore  in  the  grave- 
digger's  scene,  hotter  have  no  scene  at  all.  A  view  of  the 
Euston  Eoad  with  its  monumental  masonry  would  he  an 
intolerable  compromise. 

Those  who  contend  that  we  should  mount  SHAKSPEAHE'S 
plays  in  the  simple  manner  of  the  Elizabethan  age  would, 
if  they  were  consistent,  demand  that  his  female  characters 
should  be  taken  by  males.  Yet  I  have  never  heard  it 
seriously  suggested  that  Juliet  should  he  played  by  Mr. 
BOUHCHIER,  or  Cleopatra  by  me. 

The  effect  of  illusion  can  be  produced  by  a  combined 
effort  of  imagination  on  the  part  of  actor  and  audience. 
Thus,  if  the  actor  imagines  himself  to  be  fat  he  appears  fat. 
It  is  true  that  when  playing  Falstaff  I  have  used  material 
devices  to  produce  the  semblance  of  bulginess,  but  I  could 
have  done  it  just  as  well  out  of  my  own  imagination,  only 
I  did  not  want  to  put  too  much  strain  on  that  of  my 
collaborators  in  the  pit. 

The  absolute  aim  of  all  Art  (a  term  that  excludes  painting, 
sculpture,  poetry,  music,  architecture,  &c.,  except  as  they 
are  ancillary  to  the  drama)  is  illusion.  It  is  not  easy  to 
be  yourself  (the  secret  of  all  strength),  and  at  the  same  time 
to  be  somebody  else  (the  aim  of  all  Art).  But  it  must  be 
done  somehow,  and  the  true  artist — by  which  I  mean  the 
true  actor — will,  while  retaining  his  own  identity  intact  for 
future  use,  so  far  merge  it,  for  the  time,  in  that  of  his 
character  that,  after  creating'  the  illusion  that  he  is  a 
corpse,  it  would  be  unthinkable  that  he  should  arise  and 
appear  before  the  curtain  to  take  the  applause  of  the 
groundlings.  He  would  much  rather  that  the  audience 
should  go  home  under  the  impression  that  he  is  still  dead. 

And,  after  all,  what  is  the  applause  of  men  to  the  true 
artist?  Dead  to  the  world — for  his  illusory  simulation  of 
death  will  have  deceived  everybody  but  himself — the  pul- 
sations of  his  own  heart,  beating  high  with  the  sense  of 
achievement,  will  be  all  the  applause  that  he  needs. 
AFTER-THOUGHT. 

If  in  the  foregoing  remarks  I  have  now  and  then  by  in- 
advertence given  vent  to  a  vital  truth,  I  take  no  credit.  I  am 
but  a  TREE  on  ivhich  a  little  bird  has  sat  and  sung.  A  nd 
these  were  the  words  that  it  sang  : — 

"Be  yourself  1 " 

"  Really  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  the  little  bird;  "be  yourself.  You  cannot 
better  that ! " O.  S. 

The  People's  Laureate. 

(Without prejudice  to  Dr.  Bridges.) 

Though  KIPLING  long  had  been  his  country's  pride, 

Uncrowned,  except  with  glory, 
ASQUITH  ignored  the  People's  Voice,  and  cried — 
"  '  But  that 's  another '  Tory." 

In  a  recent  article  giving  hints  on  the  furnishing  of  a 
country  cottage,  The  Westminster  Gazette  recommended 
that  every  room  should  contain  "  one  suggestive  picture." 
Can  this  be  the  effect  of  the  Russian  Ballet  on  our  once 
incorruptible  contemporary  ? 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.-JuLY  23,   1913. 


A    PLEASURE    DEFERRED. 

DAME  CURZON.  "  COME    ALONG,    MY    LITTLE    MAN,    AND    HAVE    A    NICE    JOY-RIDE!" 
MASTER  ASQUITH.  "THANK    YOU     VERY    MUCH,    BUT    I'M    NOT    TAKING    ANY    VIOLENT 
EXERCISE    THIS    SEASON;    I    THOUGHT    OE    WAITING    TILL    1915." 


JULY  23,  1913.] 


JTNCir,    Oil   TIIK   LONDON   CHAIUVAIM. 


85 


Lynx-eyed  Hubert  (appearing,  as  usual,  from  nowliere). 

THAT  YOU  HAVE  A  SMUT  ON  YOUR  NOSE."   ' 


EXCUSE  ME,  SIB,  BUT  I  THIHK  rr  MY  DUTY  AS  A  SCOUT  TO  ISFOBM  YOU 


THE  BREAKING  OF  HENRY  BOND. 

Inspired  by  the  receipt  of  a  communication  beginning  : 

THE  JURIES  ACT,  1870. 

THE  TOWN  CLERK  OP  THIS  BOROUGH  is  required  by  Law  to 
make  out  a  true  List  in  the  following  form : — 


Christian  anil  Surname 
at  full  length. 

Title,  Quality,  Calling  or 
Business. 

Nature  of 
Qualification. 

Adams,  John 
Alley,  James 

Gentleman. 
Merchant  (state  nature 
of  Merchandise) 
B-inker    

Freehold. 
Copyhold. 

Boyd,  George 

Poor  Rate. 

House  Duty. 

THERE  is  joy  to-day  at  the  "  Crown  and  Anchor," 

Where  the  fat  pint  mugs  they  Jill, 
But  a  bitter  strife  and  a  bitter  rancour 

At  the  leasehold  house  on  the  hill — 
At  the  leasehold  house  of  the  lordly  banker 

Who  bent  the  burg  to  his  mill. 

Gay  are  the  peacocks  that  strut  in  his  pleasaunces, 
Bright  are  the  lilies  that  float  on  his  pond, 

Very  imposing  and  portly  his  presence  is 
(All  save  his  hair,  of  which  only  a  frond 

Still  stays  on  the  bald  pate,  dabbled  with  essences), 
Curved  is  the  boko  of  Bond. 

Proud  of  his  place  and  its  hireling  beauty, 
Thinking  ho  walked  with  the  world's  elite, 

He  mocked  Charles  Cole  and  his  dull  House  Duty, 
Driving  around  with  the  morning's  meat : 

He  spurned  poor  Boyd  and  his  business  fruity ; 
How  oft  in  our  humble  street 


At  the  sound  of  his  cushioned  motor's  sally 
The  reverent  suburb  has  bared  its  head ! 

Ay,  even  the  merchant  prince,  James  Alley, 
And  Adams  (John) — who  is  quite  well-bred — 

From  the  freehold"  Court "  and  the  copy  hold"  Chalet ' 
Have  curtsied  and  been  cut  dead. 

But  the  English  law  respects  not  mammon  ; 

"  I  serve  the  Law,"  said  the  grave  Town  Clerk ; 
"  1  will  write  me  a  list  there  shall  be  no  sham  on, 

A  steel-true  list ;  and  for  all  his  park  . 
I  shall  label  Bond  like  the  vendor  of  gammon 

With  a  crude  commercial  mark. 

A  gentleman !     Faugh !  his  pride  is  rotten, 
He  lifts  in  the  air  his  upstart  crown, 

But  the  glory  of  gold  is  of  dust  begotten, 
A  barren  breed  and  of  no  renown ; 

Is  coin  any  better  than  beef  or  cotton  ? 
A  banker  shall  Bond  go  down. 

His  fathers  carried  no  blood-stained  banners, 
The  knightly  plume  they  have  never  worn; 

He  wants  the  repose  of  Norman  manners  ; 
I  brand  him  here  with  the  brand  of  scorn; 

His  sires  very  likely  were  caitiff  tanners, 
While  John  is  a  gentleman  bom." 

I  read  thus  far  and  I  knew  the  canker 
That  grieved  our  burg  had  been  cut  away ; 

The  bubble  had  burst  of  Bond  the  banker — 
I  wrote  to  the  Clerk  and  said,  "  Hurray  1 

You  have  scored  off  Henry,  the  horrible  swanker, 
Good  luck  to  you,  Sir.     Good  day !  "          EVOB. 


86 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  23,  1913. 


Old  Lady  (offering  policeman  a  tract).  "I  OFTEN  THINK  you  POOR  POLICEMEN  RUN  SUCH 

A  RISK  OP  BECOMING  BAD,   BEING   SO  CONSTANTLY  MIXED   UP  WITH   CRIME." 

Policeman.  "You  NEEDN'T  FEAR,  MUM.    IT'S  THE  CRIMINALS  WOT  BUNS  THE  RISK  o' 
BECOMIN'  SAINTS,  BEIN'  MIXED  UP  WITH  rat" 


THE   LONG-FELT  WANT. 

HE  was  sitting  next  to  me  at  Lord's, 
and  I  admired  him  for  never  point- 
ing to  EHODES  and  saying,  "There's 
HOBBS,"  as  most  of  the  other  persons 
round  me  were  doing.  Nor  did  he 
attempt  any  conversation  until  the  tea 
interval,  when,  after  expressing  his 
grief  that  a  good  game  should  be  thus 
frivolously  interrupted,  he  turned  to 
diverse  topics. 

After  a  while  he  told  me  what  he  was. 

"  I  am  an  inventor,"  he  said. 

"  And  a  very  interesting  profession," 
I  replied. 

"None    more    so,"   he    said,  "even 


when  one  is  just  an  ordinary  inventor ; 
but  when  one  is  sociologically  imagina- 
tive— ah ! " 

"  How  does  one  invent  ?  "  I  asked 
him.  "That's  what  always  bothers 
me.  Do  you  sit  down  under  a  clear  sky 
and  produce  your  patents,  or ?  " 

"  That 's  what  the  ordinary  inventor 
does,"  he  said.  "  There  's  no  knowing 
when  the  idea  may  come  to  him.  At 
breakfast,  in  the  train,  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  even  while  talking  to  some- 
body. But  the  sociologically  imagina- 
tive inventor  has  to  prepare  the  way. 
He  has  first  to  ask  himself  what  is 
wanted,  and  then  get  to  work  to  supply 
that  want.  The  cinema  came  that 


way,  for  example.  The  inventor  of 
my  type  got  up  one  morning  with  a 
blank  mind  and  said  to  himself, '  What 
human  nature  now  needs  is  that  thou- 
sands of  electric  palaces  should  spring 
up  all  over  the  world,  in  which  ani- 
mated photographic  representations  of 
sentiment  and  melodrama  may  beguile 
the  tedium  of  life;'  and  straightway  he 
invented  the  cinema.  That  is  the  best 
kind  of  inventing.  But,  to  give  you 
an  example  of  the  other  kind,  asbestos 
grates  were  an  accident  pure  and  simple. 
An  inventor  chanced  to  walk  through 
some  catacombs  and  noticed  a  great 
heap  of  skulls,  and  this  instantly  gave 
him  the  idea  of  asbestos  fuel.  You 
see  the  difference?  The  accidental  in- 
ventors may  be  useful  enough,  but 
very  little  credit  is  due  to  them,  whereas 
the  sociologically  imaginative  inventors 
are  conscious  benefactors,  and  should 
have  pensions  and  statues." 

"  And  what  are  you  at  work  on  just 
now  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Just  now,"  he  replied,  "  and  in  fact 
for  months  past,  my  mind  is  occupied 
with  a  problem,  the  solution  of  which 
will  come  as  a  trumpet  call  all  over 
England,  and  perhaps  even  more  over 
Scotland.  Many  are  the  householders 
who  will  rise  and  bless  me." 

"Well?  "I  said. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "  you  have, 
I  suppose,  often  stayed  in  country 
houses  where,  the  people  still  having 
some  remnants  of  old  -  fashionedness 
left,  the  billiard  -  room  is  locked  on 
Sundays?" 

"  I  have,"  I  replied. 

"  And  you  have  noticed,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  your  host  or  hostess  has  always 
apologised  for  this  state  of  things 
in  much  the  same  words.  '  It  is  not 
they  who  object,  of  course ;  you  will 
acquit  them  of  being  so  small-minded 
as  that ;  but  one  must  consider  the 
servants.'  You  have  heard  that  ?  " 

"  Often,"  I  replied. 

"  As  to  how  it  would  affect  the  ser- 
vants," he  proceeded,  "  we  need  not 
pause  to  consider.  That  is  a  side  issue. 
The  point  is  that  it  might.  But 
suppose  the  servants  did  not  know; 
suppose  that  some  one  could  invent 
a  means  by  which  billiards  could  be 
played  on  Sunday  in  secret,  then  no 
one  would  mind  and  many  dull  hours 
could  be  turned  to  cheerfulness.  Do 
you  see  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do," I  said.  "  But  how?  " 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  is  where  I  come 
in — the  sociologically  imaginative  in- 
ventor. What  is  wanted  is  a  silencer 
for  billiard  balls.  It  is  that  deadly 
click,  click  that  gives  the  show  away 
and  cuts  into  the  very  heart  of  the  day 
of  rest.  Now  if  the  ivory — or  even 
bonzoline — could  be  muted,  all  would 


JULY  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THK  LONDON  CIIARIVA1U. 


87 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    OLYMPIC    TALENT. 

AN   EX-SWIMMING  CHAMPION,   ACCOMPANIED  BT  A  FRIEND   FOB  TIMING,   DISGUISES  HIK8ELF  AS  A  SHARK   AT  A   POPULAR  SEASIDE   BESORT. 


be  well.  The  mere  fact  that  voices  are 
heard  proceeding  from  the  billiard- 
room  is  nothing  ;  you  may  sit  and  talk 
in  any  room  on  Sunday  without  doing 
tho  servants  moral  harm ;  it  is '  the 
click,  click  that  is  fatal.  My  life-work 
then  is  to  invent  a  means  by  which  the 
balls  shivll  touch  in  a  silence  as  of  the 
tomb.  And,"  he  added,  "I  shall  do 
it.  The  word  failure  is  not  in  rny 
dictionary." 
Intrepid  fellow,  I  pray  that  he  may. 


"It  was  a  similar  fato  which  compelled 
Oliver  Goldsmith  to  reel  out  Eoman  histories 
and  '  Animated  Natives '  when  he  might  have 
given  us  more  masterpieces  such  as  '  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefiold  '  and  '  Tho  Deserted  Village.'  '.' 
Birmingham  Daily  I'ust. 

Or  when  he  might  have  been  tucking 
in  animated  "  natives." 


"It  is  hard  to  believe  that  Sir  Frederick 
Young,  the  Grand  Old  Man  of  the  Royal 
Colonial  Institute,  was  97  on  the  longest  day. 
Ho  was  erect,  hale  and  hearty,  and  would 
easily  pass  for  5." — London  Life. 

How  annoyed  ho  must  be  when  strange 
motUerg  pat  him  on  the  head  and  talk 
baby  language  to  him. 

"  A  novelty  also  will  he  provided  on  Monday 
:iii>ming  by  the    arrival,   direct    from   their 
nativity,  of  the  two  braves  '  Setting  Sun  '  and 
•  Burning  Bull.'  " — Wotsm  Morning  News. 
So  young  and  yet  so  brave. 


THE    BATH. 

HANG  garlands  on  the  bathroom  door ; 

Let  all  the  passages  be  spruce ; 
For,  lo,  the  victim  comes  once  more, 

And,  ah,  he  struggles  like  the  deuce ! 

Bring  soaps  of  many  scented  sorts ; 

Let  girls  in  pinafores  attend, 
With  John,. their  brother,  in  his  shorts, 

To  wash  their  dusky  little  friend, 

Their  little  friend,  the  dusky  dog, 
Short -legged  and  very  obstinate, 

Faced  like  a  much-offended  frog. 
And  fighting  hard  against  "his  fate. 

No  Briton  he !     From  palace-born 
Chinese  patricians  he  descends; 

He  keeps  their  high  ancestral  scorn ; 
His  spirit  breaks,  but  never  bends. 

Our  water-ways  he  fain  would  'scape ; 

He  hates  the  customary  bath 
That  thins  his  tail  and  spoils  his  shape, 

And  turns  him  to  a  fur-clad  lath ; 

And,  seeing  that  the  Pekinese 
Have  lustrous  eyes  that  bulge  like  buds, 

He  fain  would  save  such  eyes  as  these, 
Theirowner's  prido,  from  British  suds. 

Vain  are  his  protests — in  he  goes. 

His  young  barbarians  crowd  around ; 
They  soap  his  paws,  they  soap  his  nose; 

They  soap  wherever  fur  is  found. 


And  soon,  still  laughing,  they  extract 
His  limpness  from  the  darkling  tide; 

They  make  the  towel's  roughness  act 
On  back  and  head  and  dripping  side. 

They  shout  and  rub  and  rub  and  shout — 
He  deprecates  their  odious  glee — 

Until  at  last  they  turn  him  out, 
A  damp  gigantic  bumble-bee. 

Released,  he  barks  and  rolls,  and  speeds 
From  lawn  to  lawn,  from  path  to  path, 

And  in  one  glorious  minute  needs 
More  soapsuds  and  another  bath. 

E.  C.  L. 


Not  Very  Far  North 

"  Mr.  Steflansson,  on  board  the  Karluk, 
is  reported  to  have  reached  Rome  on  his  way 
to  tho  Far  North." — Times. 

We  shall  be  glad  to  welcome  the 
intrepid  explorer  at  Cricklevvood  when 
tho  ice  breaks  up. 


"  Tho  Hill  Club  held  their  first  Progressive 
Bridge  Drivel  on  Thursday." 

South  Pacific  Mail. 
We  can  imagine  it. 


"Will  any  kind  reader  of  THE  TABLE  tell 
NF.LLTOM  how  to  put  water-lilies  on  a  menu 
in  French?  " — The  Table. 

Don't  think  to  deceive  your  guests  in 
this  way,  NELLTOM.  At  the  first  mouth- 
ful they  will  know  it 's  water-lilies. 


88 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  23,  1913. 


THE   POINT   OF  VIEW. 

"  CELIA,"  I  said  sternly,  looking  up 
from  my  paper,  "  I  have  something  to 
say  to  you,  child.  Cease  your  trilling 
for  a  moment ;  refrain  for  the  nonce 
from  writing  absurd  messages  on  the 
back  of  my  collar,  which  can  only  be 
read  by  others." 

"They'll  tell  you  about  it,"  said 
Celia,  writing  busily.  "  It 's  nothing 
very  private." 

"  Eeally,  I  can't  think  why  your 
nurse  allows  you  a  pencil.  Do  you 
know  that  this  collar  was  quite  clean 
when  I  started  wearing  it,  and  that 
there  's  nearly  half  the  month  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  am  rich,"  said  Celia.  "  I  will  buy 
you  a  third  collar." 

This  gave  me  the  opening  I  sought. 
I  put  down  the  paper  and  turned 
gravely  to  her. 

"  Don't  buy  clothes  for  me,  woman," 
I  said  bitterly  ;  "  buy  them  for  your- 
self. Heaven  knows  you  need  them." 

"  I  knew  Heaven  knew,  but  I  didn't 
know  you  did,"  replied  Celia  gladly. 
"  Hooray !  Now  I  shan't  feel  so  extra- 
vagant. Two  dinner  frocks,  a  hat, 
a " 

"  Celia,  you  misunderstand  me. 
Listen."  I  cleared  my  throat  once  or 
twice.  "  What  I  am  about  to  read  to 
you  is  from  The  Times — our  first 
paper." 

"Thank  you.  Our  first  husband," 
she  added  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

I  began  to  read : — 

" '  There  is  an  orgy  of  undressing 
going  on,' "  I  read,  " '  and  it  shows 
no  signs  of  abating.'  This  refers  to 
women's  clothes,"  I  explained — "  '  an 
orgy  of  undressing.' " 

"  Oh,  the  shame  of  it !  "  said  Celia  in 
a  shocked  voice. 

"  '  Five  years  ago  women  still  wore 
skirts  and  bodices  which  covered  them, 
stockings  thick  enough  not  to  show  the 
colour  of  their  skins,  and  sufficient — er 
— stays-  and  petticoats  to  conceal  the 
details  of  their  persons.'  " 

"Oh,  tie,  fie!  Oh,  la,  Sir!  How 
vastly  improper,  I  declare,"  twittered 
Celia,  and  she  swooned  along  the  sofa. 

"  '  Nowadays,  women  wear  almost 
nothing  under  their  gowns.  Petti- 
coats  ' " 

"Is  this  Russia?  " 

"'Petticoats  went  some  time  back 
and  were  replaced  by  tights — 

"  Where  are  the  police?  " 

"  '  Or  not  replaced  at  all.  The  stock- 
ings are  of  such  diaphanous  silk  as  to 
embarrass  the  beholder,  and  they  are 
not  covered  by  any  but  court  shoes.'  " 

"  Not  even  by  waders  ?  "  cried  Celia. 
"  Oh,  say  at  least  that  they  wear 
waders ! " 

I  put  down  the  paper. 


"Celia,"  I  said,  "  this  is  very 
distressing.  There  is  a  further  passage 
about  the  muscles  of  tho  legs,  or  rather 
limbs,  being  visible  '  halfway  to  the 
knee  '  which  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
read.  What  have  you  got  to  say  ? 
Any  defence  you  care  to  make  will  bo 
given  my  most  careful  consideration." 

"  Who  is  the  writer  ?  " 

"  It  doesn't  cay.     Just  a  woman." 

"  Does  she  say  what  she  wears  when 
she  goes  on  to  the  top  of  a  'bus  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Celia,  you  don't  think 
that  anybody  connected  with  The  Times 
knows  anything  about  the  top  of  a 
'bus  ?  How  vulgar  you  are  !  " 

"  I  only  just  wondered.  Bonald,  are 
you  very  much  embarrassed  when  you 
behold  a  diaphanous  stocking  halfway 
to  the  kneo  ?  Do  you  go  about  all  day 
being  embarrassed  ?  Are  you  just  one 
big  blush  ?  " 

"  I — er — of  course.  This  orgy  of  un- 
dressing— er — pains  me.  And  why  do 
you  do  it?  Simply  because  other 
women  do  it.  Because,"  I  became 
sarcastic — "  because  it 's  the  fashion  !  " 

"  Men  are  just  as  bad." 

"  Oh,  no,  they  're  not.  You  don't 
find  men  doing  things  just  because 
some  absurd  person  in  Paris  tells  them 
to." 

Celia  looked  at  me  thoughtfully. 

"  Supposing,"  she  said,  "  it  was  the 
fashion  to  wear  your  tie  all  sideways, 
do  you  mean  to  say  you  wouldn't  do 
it?" 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  Then  why  are  you  doing  it  now  ?  " 

Hastily  and  with  as  much  dignity  as 
possible  I  straightened  my  tie. 

"  Talking  about  orgies  of  undressing," 
Celia  went  on,  "  the  bottom  button  of 
your  waistcoat 's  undone." 

"  It  always  is,"  I  said,  smiling  gently 
at  her  ignorance. 

"Oh,  horror !  " 

"  It 's  just  a  custom.  One  always — 
you  see  if  you — the  point  is — well,  it 's 
just  a  custom." 

"It  embarrasses  me  very  much," 
sakl  Celia,  veiling  her  eyes  with  her 
handkerchief.  "  And  why  do  you  al- 
ways turn  up  the  ends  of  your  trousers  ? 
Is  that  quite  nice  ?  " 

"  But  surely — I  mean,  why — 

"It's — it's  most  suggestive.  Any- 
body can  see  your  diaphanous  silk 
ankles.  And,  what  is  much  worse,  I 
believe  they  could  guess  the  colour  of 
your  skin  underneath.  '  Good  Heavens,' 
they  '11  say  to  each  other,  '  and  I  quite 
thought  he  was  a  little  black  boy.' " 

"  This  is  mere  levity." 

"  Why  do  men  wear  much  lower 
collars  than  they  used  to?  Is  it  so 
that  women  can  see  the  muscles  at  the 
back  of  their  necks  at  work?  Oh, 
horror  piled  on  horror  !  " 


She  picked  up  the  paper  and  began 
to  read  the  article  for  herself. 

"  That 's  right,"  I  agreed.  "  Ponder 
over  it  alone." 

I  walked  over  to  the  glass  and  had 
another  go  at  straightening  my  tie. 

"Ronald,"  said  Celia  suddenly,  "are 
you  a  Liberal  or  a  Conservative  ?  I 
always  forget." 

"We  are  Liberals,"  I  said.  "That 
is  to  say,  I  am  a  Liberal,  and  you 
naturally  desire  to  drop  any  silly  Con- 
servative ideas  you  may  have  had 
before  marriage  and  become  a  Liberal 
too." 

"  Are  you  a  supporter  of  the  Govern- 
ment? " 

"  As  long  as  ASQUITH  behaves  him- 
self we  support  the  Government.  Why 
do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing.  Only  this  article 
rather  hints  that  woman's  passion  for 
undress  has  a  good  deal  to  do  with 
politics.  The  writer  wonders  how  much 
our  almost  bare  feet  and  quite  bare 
arms  and  neck  owe  to  Mr.  ASQUITH'S 
indifference  to  stable  government.'  So 
you  see  it 's  really  your  fault  that  I  am 
so  entirely  improper.  Yours  and — er— 
Mr.  BIBBBLL'S.  Is  it  Mr.  BIKHELL,  by 
the  way  ?  I  always  forget.  I  mean 
the  man  at  the  Irish  Office  who  won't 
let  me  wear  top  boots  when  I  'm 
paying  a  call." 

"  BIRBELL,"  I  said  absently.  I  took 
the  paper  from  her  and  slowly  finished 
the  article. 

"Well!"  I  said.  "Well,  of  all 
the —  How  perfectly —  Really, 
The  Times  ought  to  know  better.  I  've 
never  read  anything  so  ridiculous." 

"  It  is  rather  a  stupid  article,"  said 
Celia  indifferently. 

"Stupid?"  I  said.  "It's  perfectly 
absurd."  A.  A.  M. 


"  The  Yarmouth  steam  drifter  Cicero  landed 
a  small  bottle-nosed  sharp  at  Scarborough 
yesterday.  It  had  been  caught  in  the  herring 
nets  fourteen  miles  off  the  port." 

Glasgow  Evening  Times. 

Bottle-nosed  sharps  should  stick  closer 
to  the  race  meetings,  and  then  they 
wouldn't  get  into  trouble. 


"  Invalid  lady  requires  as  lodger  good-sized 
sunny,  airy  bedroom." 

Hautpslcad  Advertiser. 

Quiet,    domesticated    apartment    pre- 
ferred, used  to  children. 


"BEAUTY    AT    THE    BUTTS. 
A  LADY  SHOT  AT  BISLEY." 

Glasgow  News. 

We  are  very  sorry  to  hear  of  this 
contretemps.  But  people  should  never 
frequent  the  environs  of  the  target  while 
firing  is  in  progress.  It  lays  them 
open,  in  the  event  of  an  accident,  to  a 
charge  of  contributory  negligence. 


JULY  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


89 


WORD  PICTURES. 
I  HAVE  had  to  give  up  reading  Cricket 
reports.  It  is  no  good.  "  At  1 1.30  the 
two  over-night  not-outs — (6)  and  (13) 
respectively  —  faced  the  howling  of 
,'..."  You  knowl  I  can't  say  why 
it  is,  but  it  doesn't  grip  me  any  more. 
It  leaves  mo  cold.  But,  after  all,  I  am 
conscious  of  no  gap  in  my  intellectual 
life.  For  1  have  found  a  splendid  sub- 
stitute. 

I   wish  it  to   be  understood  that  I 
know  nothing,  literally  nothing,  about 
the  game  of  Base  Ball.     I  have  never 
seen  it,  discussed  it  or  heard  it  described. 
My   mind   is    entirely   free   from    the 
slightest  vestige  of  information.      And 
thus  the  reading  of  accounts  of  Base 
Hall  matches  becomes  for  me  an  exer- 
cise of  the  purest  romance.     It  calls  up 
before  me  vague  compelling  pictures, 
opens  up  for  me  delightful  avenues  of 
conjecture.     And  by  now  I  am  wholly 
engrossed  in    this    pursuit.       I   must 
nako  it  quite  clear    that   I    get  my 
reports  only  from  the  best   and  most 
reputable  of  Transatlantic  magazines, 
where  the  question  is  soberly  discussed 
ind  the  writing  might  almost  be  classed 
as  literature.     But  it  stirs  me  all  the 
same.     Who  would  not  care  to  know 
ihat  "  a  teasing  fly  was  sent  perhaps 
seventy  feet  back  of  the  bag  "  ?     Per- 
mps  a  certain  element  of  slang  does 
creep  in  at  times.      At  least  I   have 
ivondered    if    it    is    considered    quite 
elegant  to  speak  of  "  the  batter  pushing 
down  a  sacrifice  bunt."     But  I  love  to 
try  to  imagine  him  doing  it.     Then  it 
is  so  refreshing   to    talk    about   "an 
inning  " — so  unhackneyed.     And  there 
is  another  most  refreshing  thing  to  one 
whose  perceptions  have  become  jaded 
by  our  ceaseless  centuries.     To  make 
a  run  is  such  a  tremendous  event !  In 
one  match  that  I  read  of  recently,  this 
never  occurred  till  "  the  second  half  of 
the  sixth." 

The  beauty  of  it  is  that  one  can  have 
such  an  enormous  amount  of  pure 
entertainment  with  so  small  a  measure 
of  enlightenment.  There  is  no  danger 
as  yet  that  I  shall  come  to  understand 
the  process  of  the  game  and  thus  lose 
the  keen  edge  of  my  enjoyment.  All 
that  I  have  been  able  to  glean  after 
weeks  of  delighted  study  is  what  I 
may  call  a  faint  flavour  of  Rounders 
But  I  somehow  have  a  notion  that  to 
"rearrange  your  pitching  assign- 
ments "  may  be  equivalent  to  changing 
the  bowling.  But  how  in  the  work 
do  you  "  push  a  run  over  the  plate"  '.' 
It  is  very  commonly  done.  On  the 
other  hand  I  have  only  read  of  one 
"pitcher"  so  far  capable  of  "trotting 
out  his  reverse  hook." 

It  is  a  magnificent  game.     There  is 


"DON'T    YOU    THINK    YOU  *D    LIKE    SOME    OP   THIS    NICE    BREAD-AND-BUTTER   BEFORE    YOU 
START  ON  CAKES?"  "  No  1  "  "  TUT-TUT  !      NoWHAT?"  "NoFEARl" 


nothing  quite  like  it.  It  is  so  full  of 
picturesque  and  sudden  touches.  I  read 
of  a  ball  not  long  ago  that  "struck  that 
section  of  the  fence  which  means  a  new 
suit  to  the  batsman."  How  feeble  in 
comparison  is  our  Hat-trick !  And 
then  there  is  the  "  Pennant."  That  is 
always  cropping  up.  I  imagine  it  to 
be  some  special  reward  of  valour. 

I  am  getting  so  enthusiastic  about  it 
all  that  I  sometimes  wonder  if  I  have 
become  a  "Fan."  If  so  I  must  be  a 
"  Paper  Fan,"  I  think,  though  I  have 
already  made  up  my  mind  that  if  ever 
I  am  present  at  a  game  I  shall  take  a 
seat  "  back  of  the  catcher."  Take  my 
word  for  it,  that  is  the  place.  From 
no  other  point  can  one  "criticise  the 
curves."  I  am  convinced  that  if  any 
"Freak  Plays"  occur  I  shall  get 
absolutely  "roiled  up."  That,  I  am 
told,  is  what  happens  to  the  crowd. 

But  just  think  of  it !     Compare  it  1 


".  .  .  At  11.30  the  over-night 
not  outs — 6  and  13  respectively— faced 
the  bowling  of — 

"Captain  Charles  Charlcton  performed  the 
extraordinary  feat  of  navigating  his  vessel  a 
distance  of  15,000  miles  to  Quoenstown  with- 
out the  aid  of  a  single  officer.  The  voyage 
occupied  108  days.  Charleton  .  .  .  slept  on 
the  poop  of  the  ship  on  a  cabin  chair  during 
most  of  the  108  days."— F in-mcial  Times. 

One  of  those  tame  ships  that  practically 
navigate  themselves. 

"Drama,  the  most  recent  capture  by  the 
Greek  army  from  the  Bulgarians,  is  a  Turkish 
town."— Manchester  Guardian. 
It  should  be  much  more  thrilling  as  a 
Greek  Drama. 

Nasty  Accident  to  Russian  Girl. 
"  A  Russian  girl  was  struck  by  the  uncerc-1 
monious  waving  of  the  hand  which  accom-' 
panics  a  parting." — Daily  Hail. 


90 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


PULY  23,  1913. 


'DRESS    AND    UNDRESS." 

Pint  Guest,  "THAT  MRS.  ASTEBISK'S  A  PBETTY  WOMAN,  AND  SHE  AIN'T  BADLY  GOT  UP;   BUT  SHE  LOOKS  ALL  WRONG  SOMEHOW." 
Second  Guest.  "Or  COURSE  SHE  DOES.     THE  RIDICULOUS  WOMAN  PERSISTS  IN  WEARING  HER  BACKBONE,  AND  BACKBONES  ABE 

QUITE   OONE  OUT." 


THE    BUGBEAR. 

IT  was  a  buff  card,  covered  with 
sinister  and  menacing  prohibitions  and 
commands,  and  entitled  "In  the  matter 
of  Steggle  (Jane),  No.  9,773,143." 

He  was  a  man  of  downright  charac- 
ter, actuated  by  strong  likes  and  dis- 
likes. At  the  moment  his  strong  likes 
were  in  abeyance;  for  his  charwoman, 
call  her  Steggle  (Jane)  or  No.  9,773,143 
as  you  please,  he  felt  neither  one  way 
nor  the  other.  As  for  the  buff  card", 
in  "  the  week  commencing  Monday, 
14  April,  1913,"  it  left  him  cold ;  in  "  the 
week  commencing  Monday,  21  April, 
1913,"  it  bored  him  stiff,  and  in  "  the 
week  commencing  Monday,  28  April, 
1913,"  it  brought  his  worst  side  upper- 
most, and  caused  him  to  offer  his  soul 
to  the  devil,  that  he  might  be  quit  of 
all  further  Mondays.  But  the  ten  more 
of  these  named  on  the  card  relentlessly 
ensued,  and  upon  cash  of  them  yet 
another  week  "commenced."  As  he 
dealt  with  them  one  by  one  his  temper 
grew  worse,  and  by  the  time  he  got  to 


the  last  of  them,  "  the  week  commencing 
Monday,  7  July,"  all  the  blood  in  his 
-system  had  mounted  to  his  head. 
Having  then  fixed  the  last  stamp  in  its 
place  with  a  terrible  thump,  he  sought 
for  an  opportunity  of  making  his  feel- 
ings known. 

There  was  a  space  at  the  bottom  of 
the  buff  card,  about  the  only  space  left 
on  it,  and  it  was  specially  Reserved  for 
the  use  of  Society  or  Insurance  Commis- 
sioners. Let  him  touch  it  if  he  dare ! 
My  word,  if  he  had  the  impertinence  to 
write  in  it,  there  would  be  the  dickens 
and  all  to  pay  1 

He  took  a  pen  with  a  big  broad  nib, 
and  dipped  it  into  the  blue-black  ink. 
On  second  thoughts  he  took  a  pen  with 
a  fine  nib  and  dipped  it  into  the  red 
ink.  Then,  in  his  smallest  hand,  he 
wrote  in  the  place  most  exclusively  re- 
served for  the  use  of  the  Elect : — 

"  If  you  suppose  that  I  am  going  to 
waste  the  best  part  of  my  life  and 
fortune  over  your  vile  cards,  and  not 
write  where  I  like,  you  misconceive  the 
situation.  Damme,  I  've  paid  for  it 


and  I  'm  going  to  write  on  it.  Fine 
me,  and  I  shan't  pay  ;  put  me  in  quod, 
and  I  shan't  care.  Give  me  five  years' 
penal  servitude,  and  I'll  laugh  at  you. 
I  know  you  well  enough  not  to  believe 
that  you  11  keep  me  there  and  lose  my 
threepence  a  week  for  five  years." 

You  might  gather  from  this  that  he 
was  a  man  who  disliked  parting  with 
his  .money,  loathed  the  necessity  for 
regular  habits,  had  strong  political 
prejudices.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
generous,  methodical,  impartial  and 
fair-minded  to  a  degree.  But  there 
was  one  thing  he  could  not  stand,  and 
that  was  the  word  "commence." 


"  A  Router's  telegram  from  the  Hague  states 
that  the  Queen  has  entrusted  Dr.  Bos  with 
the  formation  of  a  cabinet." 

Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

And  our  only  authority  on  foreign 
affairs  heads  this  "NEW  BELGIAN 
CABINET."  We  shall  look  for  an 
editorial  note  on  the  subject — possibly 
in  the  form  of  a  dozen  front-page 
articles. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  23,   1913. 


A    BEOKEN    LULLABY. 

EUKOPA.  "OH    HUSH    THEE,    MY    BABY!" 

THE  INFANT  ALBANIA.  "  HOW  CAN  I  HUSH  ME  WITH  ALL  THIS  INFERNAL  NOISE  GOING  ON?" 

EUROPA.  "WELL,   YOU   MUST  DO   AS   I  DO,   AND  PRETEND  YOU   DON'T  HEAR  IT." 

;  hist  week's  meeting  the  Ambassadors  were  still  chiefly  occupied  with  Albania.     Tho  question  of  the  attitude  of  the  Powers 
rds  the  present  Balkan  crisis  was  not  discussed.] 


JULY  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


93 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(KxnucTKD  FROM  TUB  PIAIIY  OF  TODY,  M.P.) 


THE  CALL  TO  WESTMINSTER.    To  Amis !    NOBLESSE  OBLIGE  ! 


Home  of  Commons,  Monday,  July  14. 
— Self-appointed  task  of  undermining 
Constitution  assumed  by  reckless 
Government  makes  further  progress. 
To-day  sees  beginning  of  end  of  that 
prop  of  an  ancient  Empire — the  Plural 
Voter.  Bill  decreeing  his  abolition 
completes  the  quartette  of  revolutionary 
measures  going  on  to  the  Lords.  Would 
imagine  that  in  such  circumstances 
House  would  be  crowded,  seething  with 
excitement.  On  the  contrary,  benches 
more  than  half  empty.  PRETYMAN, 


Captain  PBETYMAN  supports  the  "prop  of 
an  ancient  Empire." 


rising  to  move  rejection  of  Bill,  was 
not  encouraged  by  a  cheer.  Behind 
him  as  he  stood  at  the  Table  sat 
dejected  figures  of  BONNEB  LAW  and 
ROBERT  FINLAY,  sole  occupants  of 
Front  Opposition  Bench.  The  House 
had  come  to  bury  the  Plural  Voter, 
not  to  praise  him.  With  unconscious 
dramatic  instinct  it  assumed  attitude 
and  expression  suitable  to  melancholy 
circumstance. 

Though  this  was  the  underlying  fact 
there  is  no  doubt  that  Mr.  STANIEB 
contributed  to  prevalent  depression. 
At  Question  time  he  had  not  fewer 
than  six  queries  on  the  Paper  dealing 
with  subject  of  swine  fever.  His  inter- 
rogations formed  a  series  of  chapters 
succinctly  chronicling  condition  of  pigs 
in  Holland.  They  seem  to  have  a 
weary  time  in  the  Netherlands.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  in  the  educa- 
tional schedule  at  Dotheboys  Hall  there 
was  regular  recurrence  of  what  was 
tknown  in  the  establishment  as  "  Brim- 
"stone  morning."  On  such  occasions 
the  boys,  mustered  in  the  school- 
room, had  administered  to  them  in 
due  order  large  spoonfuls  of  brimstone 
and  treacle. 

As  Mrs.  Squeers  explained  to  Nicholas 
Nickkby,  "  If  they  hadn't  something  or 
other  in  the  way  of  medicine  they  'd 
always  be  ailing." 


Same  principle  adopted  in  Holland 
in  case  of  pigs.  Should  any  one  of 
them  display  symptoms  of  swine  fever, 
not  only  he  but  every  pig  in  the  parish 
is  dosed.  No  use  any  one  of  them 
observing  in  guttural  Dutch,  "I'm 
feeling  particularly  well  this  morning ; 
never  felt  fitter  in  my  life ! "  There, 
ready  at  hand,  is  the  equivalent  of  the 
spoon  and  the  bucket  of  brimstone  and 
treacle.  He  is  straightway  dosed. 

To  vary  CANNING'S  commentary : — 
In'  matters  of  med'cine  the  fault  of  the  Dutch 
Is,  not  asking  too  little,  but  giving  too  much. 

STANIER'S  six  questions   made   this 


Mr.  HOQGE  makes  a  calculation. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  23,  1913. 


clear.  Mr.  HOGOB  naturally  listened  I  custom  in  the  Commons,  striking  feature 
with'exceptional  attention.  'On  other  in  the  historic  gathering  was  its  im- 
less  directly  personal  topics  himself  I  porturbability.  Cheers  were  infrequent 
a  champion  supplementary-questioner,  and  decorously  subdued.  Laughter  was 
he  regarded  with  envy  opportunity  of  rare.  Of  excitement  there  was  no  trace. 
Member  for  Newport.  If,  "arising  Even  when  division  was  called,  there 
out  of  that  answer,"  STANIEB  put  only  was  no  rush  towards  the  Lobby  doors, 
two  Supplementary  Questions  for  each  No  peer  demeaned  his  order  by  quicken- 
enquiry  on  the  printed  paper,  there  ing  his  step.  With  assurance  of  Civil 
would  be  eighteen. 

This  was  counting  without 
the  MINISTER  FOR  AGRICULTURE, 
to  whom  the  catechism  was 
addressed. 

"  With  the  hon.  gentleman's 
permission,"  said  EUNCIMAN, 
when  STANIER  resumed  his  seat 
after  putting  his  first  question, 
in  answering  Number  36  I 
will  also  answer  Numbers  37, 
38,  39, 40  and  41." 

He  did  so  in  briefest  non- 
committal Ministerial  fashion. 

It  is  this  kind  of  thing  that 
lours  the  minds  of  private 
Members,  making  them  some- 
times doubt  whether,  subjected 
to  such  treatment,  parliamen- 


The  Member  for  Newport    introduces  the  MINISTER 
AGKICULTUBE  to  the  Dutch  Pig. 


iary  life  is  worth  living  on  £400  a  year. 
Business  done. — Plural  Voting  Bill 
read  a  third  time  by  293  votes  against 
222. 

House  of  Lords,  Tuesday. — Second 
night  of  debate  on  Home  Eule  Bill, 
[louse  presents  spectacle  seen  only  two 
or  three  times  in  life  of  a  Parliament. 
3n  approach  of  division  every  seat  was 
illed.    Had  Lord  CKEWE  turned  his 
lead  to  regard  benches  behind  him,  on 
•rdinary  occasion  morethan  half-empty, 
e  would  have  beheld  a  rare  refreshing 
ight.    Beneath  the  serried  mass  not  a 
trip    of    red    leather    cushion 
howed.     Seemed  as  if  old  times 
lad  come  again,  and  that  Liberal 
"arty    had  re-established  con- 
dition  of  equality  in  numbers 
with  the  adversary. 

What  actually  happened  was 
that,  every  castled  cranny  of 
the  kingdom  having  been  swept 
of  noble  tenants  bidden  to  West- 
minster to  bash  the  Home  Eule 
Bill,  there  was  not  room  for 
them  in  the  Unionist  camp. 


War  in  the  near  future  they  sauntered 
out  as  if  in  ordinary  quest  of  hat  and 
umbrella. 

Only  once  in  debate  was  there  ap- 
parent danger  of  personal  altercation. 
It  came  at  final  stage  when  Lord 
MORLEY  was  replying  on  debate.  LON- 
DONDERRY interposed  statement  that  in 
the  other  House  the  IRISH  SECRETARY 


had  hinted  that,  in  case  of  outbreak 
of  Orange  forces  in  protest  against 
enactment  of  Home  Eule  Bill,  English 
troops  would  not  be  ordered  to  shoot. 
Whereupon  the  PREMIER  nodded  assent. 


Whether  a  wink  would  have  been 
more  acceptable  he  did  not  say. 

Business  done. — Second  Beading  of 
Home  Eulo  Bill  negatived  by  302 
against  64. 

House  of  Commons,  Friday. — During 
week  FOREIGN  SECRETARY  bombarded 
with  questions  about  state  of  affairs  in 
the  Balkans.  Ho  returns  the  diplo- 
matic answer  that  does  not  turn 
away  curiosity.  Final  attempt 
to  force  his  hand  made  by  raisin" 
debate  on  motion  for  adjourn- 
ment. Statesmen  below  Gang- 
way on  Ministerial  side,  who 
are  urging  recall  of  Lord  GLAD- 
STONE because  he  authorised 
employment  of  Imperial  troops 
to  save  Johannesburg  from 
rapine,  now  suggest  that  Eng- 
land should  step  in  and  "  impose 
peace"  on  the  belligerents. 

"How  is  that  to  be  done?" 
inquired  the  imperturbable 
^.  EDWARD  GREY.  "  Am  I  to  come 
down  to  the  House  and  ask  for 
FOK  a  vote  of  credit  in  order  to  use 
the  forces  of  the  Crown  to 
impose  peace  on  Servia,  Greece  and 
Bulgaria?  If  the  vote  be  given  how 
are  the  forces  going  to  be  used? " 


Statesmen    below   Gangway 
that  as  no  business 
they   desire   is   that 


Accordingly   strayed  into   alien      Lord  Lc 

quarters.  something  more  than  a  nod. 

Even  this  temporary  accommodation  |      "  What  I  want  to  know,"  quoth  the  !  prox 
did  not  suffice.     Peers  who  could  not  j  MARQUIS,  "is,  do  the  Government  en- 
find  sitting  room  on  either  side  thronged '  dorse  Mr.  ASQUITH'S  nod  ?  " 
passages  right  and  left  of  Woolsack.       Out  of  Ireland  the  process  unfamiliar. 

"I1_1_'._.TJ|  •  i  1      •  «1»  •  •  w  * 


regard 

of  theirs.     What 
they   shall    have 

direction  of  foreign  policy,  leaving  small 
details  such  as  those  suggested  to 
Ministers  who  are  paid  for  doing  the 
work. 

Incidentally  disclosure  is  made  of 
Secret  Treaty  between  Greece  and 
Servia  for  partition  of  spoils  when  they 
shall  have  beaten  Bulgaria. 

"What  if  none  remain?"  SABK 
asks.  "  Situation  recalls  a  coup- 
let written  by  POPE  after  the 
signing  of  the  Peace  of  Utrecht, 
within  twelve  months  of  two 
hundred  years  ago  :— 

Now  Europe 's  balanc'd,  neither  side 

prevails ; 
For  nothing's  left  in  either  of  the 

scales." 

Apply  second  line  to  Balkans, 
and  see  how  history  repeats 
itself. 

Business  done. — Hurrying  on 
with  intent  to  prorogue  on  15th 


"  Hay  is  so  abundant  in  Sark  this  year  that 
many  animals  aro  giving  it  to  animals  as 


Behind  them,  within  rails  fencing  in  In  this  effete  country  you  may  endorse  '  bedding-"— <?«<™SPT/  Weekly  Press. 


the  Throne,  were  packed   a   mass   of  a   cheque   but    not    a    nod.     MORLEY 


Privy  Councillors.  The  side  galleries 
allotted  to  use  of  Peeresses  were  gar- 
landed with  fair  women,  whose  towering 
plumes  HENRY  OF  NAVARRE  might  have 
envied  for  their  whiteness. 

To   lookers-on    familiar   with   daily 


Let  us  take  an  example  from  this,  dear 
friends. 


!The  time-worn  phrase,  with  its  thousand 


declined  to  make  the  experiment  sug- 

..  ,,  -  , 

Very  well,    retorted  the  fiery  (best   jocular  applications,  'C'est  le  premier  pas 
Wallsend)  LONDONDERRY.     "  I  will  tell 
the  noble  Viscount  that  a  nod  is  not 
good  enough  for  us." 


toute.'  " — Glasgow  News. 

Our  contemporary  makes  it  seem  quite 

fresh. 


JULY  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


95 


First  M.F.H.  (greetitu/  neighbour  and  sometime  rival  Master).  "  HULLO,  OLD  CHAP,  COME  IN  AND  HELP  us." 
Neighbour.  "WHAT  ABE  YOU  DOING?"  First  M.F.H.  "JcsT  ARBANGINO  WHAT  WE'RE  QOIN'  TO  SHOW." 

Neighbour.  "  OH  I    THOUGHT  YOU  WEBB  PICKING  OUT  BOMB  TO  DBAFT." 


BAZAE. 

DIVE  in  from  the  sunlight,  smiting  like  a  falchion, 

Underneath  the  awnings  to  the  sudden  shade, 
Saunter  through   the  packed  lane,   many-voiced, 

colourful, 

Bippling  with  the  currents  of    the  South  and 
Eastern  trade. 

Here  are  Persian  carpets,  ivory  and  peach-bloom, 
Tints  to  fill  the  heart  of  any  child  of  man, 

Here  are  copper  rose-bowls,  leopard-skins,  emeralds, 
Scarlet  slippers  curly-toed   and  beads   from 
Kordofan. 

Water-sellers  pass  with  brazen  saucers  tinkling ; 

Hajjis  in  the  doorways  tell  their  amber  beads ; 
Buy  a  lump  of  turquoise,  a  scimitar,  a  neckerchief 

Worked  with  rose  and  saffron  for  a  lovely  lady's 
needs. 

Here  we  pass  the  goldsmiths,   copper,   brass   and 
silver-smiths, 

All  a-clang  and  jingle,  all  a-glint  arid  gleam  ; 
Here  the  silken  webs  hang,  shimmering,  delicate, 

Soft-hued  as  an  afterglow  and  melting  as  a  dream. 

Buy  a  little  blue  god  brandishing  a  sceptre, 
Buy  a  dove  with  coral  feet  and  pearly  breast, 

Buy  some  ostrich  feathers,  silver  shawls,  perfume  jars, 
Buy  a  stick  of  incense  for  the  shrine  that  you 
love  best. 


SECOND  THOUGHTS. 

(After  reading  aboiit  the  curative  power  of  colours.) 

WHEN  first  I  saw  you,  Thomas,  and  I  noted 
Your  noisy  headgear  and  your  blatant  tie, 

The  startling  tints  in  which  you  went  waistcoated, 
Your  socks'  assaults  upon  the  passing  eye, 

I  murmured,  "  Here  we  have  a  nut  indeed, 

One  of  the  good  old  Barcelona  breed." 

I  realised  our  suburb  would  be  duller, 
Its  streets  with  paler  radiance  imbued, 

Eeft  of  your  decorative  scheme  of  colour, 

But  yet  I  've  often  wished  the  thing  less  crude, 

Have  often  wished  the  dress  that  you  put  on 

Less  imitative  of  the  Union  John. 

But  now  I  know  I  may  have  been  unfeeling 
In  thinking  that  you  wished  me  to  admire ; 

You  may  be  only  one  whom  need  of  healing 
Has  driven  to  medicinal  attire. 

You  may  feel  my  disgust,  or  even  more, 

When  you  assume  "  the  mixture  as  before." 

If  that  be  so,  expressive  of  my  sorrow 
I  dedicate  these  simple  strains  to  you. 

Say  you  forgive  me,  Thomas,  and  to-morrow 
Drop  me  a  line  to  tell  me  how  you  do, 

With  details,  for  I  greatly  wish  to  know 

Where  lurks  the  pain — the  tummy  or  the  toe. 


CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  23,  1913. 


THE   AGE   OF   ENTERPRISE. 

Paragraph  inserted  by  Theodore  Noke 
in' the  "Mutual  Help"  column  of 
'•  Chirp;/  Bits." 

Young  Gentleman  (residing  in  Streatham) 
lesirea  male  companion  for  fortnight's  un- 
conventional holiday  on  Continent.  August. 
Good  walker.  Interested  in  bird  life  and  old 
churches.  Anxious  to  get  right  off  beaten 
track.  Smattering  of  French.  Box  113. 

Letter  from  Tinklett  and  Co.  to  Box  113, 
"  Chirpy  Bits  "  Office. 

DEAR  SIB,— May  we  call  your  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  our  firm  has  been 
stuffing  and  mounting  birds,  reptiles, 
animals,  etc.,  to  the  complete  satis- 
faction of  many  thousands  of  clients 
for  the  last  ninety  years  ? 

The  high  standard  of  our  workman- 
ship has  been  testified  to  by  a  famous 
Professor  for  whom  we  successfully 
preserved  a  unique  pink-eyed  canary 
in  1893.  We  can  also  boast  of  Royal 
patronage,  having  replaced  the  glass 
eyes  of  a  stuffed  owl  for  H.H.  Prince 
Bingo  of  Cummerbundia  only  a  few 
years  ago.  We  therefore  place  our- 
selves at  your  service  with  every  con- 
fidence. Faithfully  yours, 

TINKLETT  AND  Co. 

Letter  from  James  Bunt  to  Box  113, 
"  Chirpy  Bits  "  Office. 

DEAR  SIB,  • —  "  Everwear  "  special 
walking  and  climbing  boots,  which  I 
supply  at  22s.  6d.,  including  spiral- 
tipped,  solid  leather  laces,  are  abso- 
lutely the  finest  on  the  market.  This 
claim  has  been  recently  endorsed  by  the 
fatality  which  overtook  a  prominent 
Alpinist  who  was  unhappily  killed  in 
the  Austrian  Tyrol  a  few  months  ago 
Although  the  body  of  the  unfortunate 
climber  was  shockingly  mangled,  his 
"Everwear"  boots  were  only  slightly 
perforated. 

If  you  will  kindly  let  me  know  your 
size  I  shall  be  happy  to  forward  severa" 
pairs  for  your  selection. 

Thanking  you  in  anticipation, 
I  am,        Yours  faithfully, 

JAS.  BUNT. 

Letter  from  William  Drinkwater  to 
Box  113,  "  Chirpy  Bits  "  Office. 

SIR,— May  I  crave  your  generosit) 
for  a  very  sad  case  of  destution  I  was 
once   in  a  position   to  go  abroad  on 
holidays   myself  but   business   Losses 
which  was  not  my  fault  but  was  causec 
by  Misfortune  only  have  brought  m 
to  a  state  of   absolute  destution  anc 
indeed   of   starvation   and   I  imploan 
you  Sir  to  help  me  which  you  will  neve 
regret  Sir  you  are  young  and  fortnati 
please  help  one  who  was  once  a  youn£ 
Gentleman  himself  Sir  I  have  not  ea 
a  square  Meal  for  near  three  weeks  anc 
oblidge  Yours  respeckfully, 

WM.  DBINKWATEH. 


Marked  items  in  Catalogue  sent  ly  "  The 
Excelsior  Book  Stores"  to  Box  113, 
"  Chirpy  Bits  "  Office  :— 

•  A  HTRO   IN  THK   HAND." 
NEW  NOVEL 

by 

3.  P.  MiGGEns. 
Price  4s.  Gd. 

"THE   CHURCH  MILITANT," 

A  COURSE  OF  SEBMONS  nv  THE 

REV.  W.  M.  STICKLEBACK. 

Price  5s.  Od. 

•HOW  TO   SPEAK  FRKNCH   LIKK    A 

NATIVE   IN  THREE  WEEKS," 

BY  ONE  WHO  HAS  PONE  IT. 

Price  2si  6d. 

"  ETIQUETTE  FOR  GENTLEMEN." 

A  GUIDE  TO  COEHECT  BEHAVIOVB  ox 

ALL  OCCASIONS, 

i   hy 

A  PEER  OP  THE  REALM. 
Price  Gd. 

Letter  from  the  Rev.  P.  Pinker  of  Streat- 
ham to  Box  113,  "  Chirpy  Bits  "  Office. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — I  see  that  you  are 
interested  in  old  churches,  which  em- 
boldens me  to  invite  your  assistance 
in  connection  with  our  St.  Aloysius 
Belfry  Restoration  and  Completion 
Fund.  The  total  sum  required  is  £750, 
towards  which  we  have  collected  up  to 
the  present  £62  14s.  l^d.  and  a  gift  in 
kind  of  1,000  bricks. 

Although  St.  Aloysius  cannot  per- 
haps accurately  be  described  as  "  old  " 
in  the  sense  of  the  term  usually  applied 
to  ecclesiastical  erections,  it  was  built 
as  far  back  as  1802.  Moreover  it  is 
credibly  asserted  that  it  stands  on  or 
near  the  site  of  a  Roman  Temple 
erected  about  the  year  47  (I  cannot  for 
the  moment  recall  whether  B.C.  or  A.D.). 

Your  love  of  birds  prompts  me  to 
add  that  three  years  ago  a  robin  buill 
its  nest  in  one  of  our  organ  pipes,  anc 
in  spite  of  grave  inconvenience  to  the 
organist  we  allowed  it  to  remain  for 
several  months. 

In  these  circumstances  may  I  confi 
dently  solicit  your  help?      Donations 
should  be  sent  to  me  and  all  chequei 
should  be  crossed. 

Yours  very  truly,       P.  PINKER. 

Letter  from  the  Editor  of"  Chirpy  Bits' 

to  Theodore  Noke. 
DEAR  SIR, — All  the  communications 
received  in  response  to  your  paragrapl 
in  our  "Mutual  Help"  column   have 
been   promptly  forwarded   to   you. 
am  sorry  if  none  of  them  have  provec 
satisfactory,  but  of  course  we  canno 
guarantee  anything. 

Yours  faithfully,     THE  EDITOR. 

Letter  from    Theodore    Noke  to   Mrs 
Digger,  of  No.  4,  Seavieiv  Terrac 
Blewsea. 
DEAR  MRS.  DIGGER, — Will  you  kindlj 


eserve  me  a  room  from  August  9  to  23  ? 
'he  same  arrangements  as  usual,  in- 
luding  the  use  of  the  bathroom  twice 
i  week.  I  suppose  your  charge  will  lo 
xs  before — 30s.  a  week  inclusive. 

Yours  truly,       T.  NOKE. 


TEMS    FROM     EVERYWHERE. 

(After  some  of  our  Contemporaries.) 
CHARGED  at  Fine  Street  with  driving 
o  the  common  danger,  a  chauffeur 
named  Herbert  Tibbits,  who  was  said  to 
lave  collided  with  a  lamp-post,  cannoned 
nto  an  undertaker's  window,  and  run 
,mok  through  a  meeting  of  Militants, 
)leaded  that  he  was  endeavouring  to 
ivoid  running  over  a  bluebottle.  Tib- 
jits,  who  was  defended  by  the  S.P.C.A., 
was  let  off  with  a  caution. 

An  elderly  gentleman  was  about  to 
cross  the  road  at  Piccadilly  Circus  when 
a  motor-'bus  suddenly  bore  down  in  his 
direction,  and  only  his  presence  of  mind 
n  remaining  on  the  pavement  averted  , 
what  mighthavcbeen  a  serious  accident.  | 

For  a  wager  Hugo  Schmelz,  a  one- 
egged  Swiss  waiter,  has  undertaken  to  ' 
lop  round  the  world,  supporting  him- 
self on  the  way  by  giving  exhibitions 
of  yodelling.  Schmelz  expects  to  com- 
plete his  task  by  July,  1959. 

A  bull  entered  a  house  in  Frump- 
ington  where  an  auction  sale  was  in 
progress,  and  several  valuable  lots  were 
knocked  down. 

A  Balham  Green  man  has  invented 
a  noiseless  barrel-organ. 

The  Mayoress  of  Toddleton  has  given 
birth  to  triplets.  This  is  the  first  re- 
corded instance  in  the  history  of  the 
borough  of  the  mayoral  term  being 
distinguished  in  such  a  way,  and  in 
honour  of  the  event  it  is  proposed  to 
revive  the  office  of  Town  Crier. 

At  Muggleswick  a  goat  has  acted  as 
foster-mother  to  a  litter  of  white  mice. 

A  cuneiform  inscription  recently  un- 
earthed at  Hidji-Khu  reveals  the  fact 
that  rag-time  was  prevalent  in  Egypt 
in  the  middle  of  the  XVIIIth  Dynasty. 

A  purple-crested  pilliwip,  one  of  the 
rarest  visitors  to  the  British  Isles,  has 
been  seen  flying  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Vandlebury,  but  so  far  all  attempts 
to  shoot  it  have  been  unsuccessful. 

Under  the  auspices  of  the  Auxiliary 
Service  League  and  in  the  interests  of  the 
Entente  a  party  of  British  charwomen 
leaves  London  to-day  on  a  visit  to  Paris, 
where  several  municipal  functions  have 
been  arranged  in  their  honour. 

"A  warm  maternal  heart  beats  under  th( 
Vicereine's  petticoat." 

Amrita  Bazar  Patnka, 

In  the  light  of  this  The  Times'  corre 
spondent  will  have  to  revise  her  indict 
ment  of  women's  clothes. 


JULY  23.  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


97 


"V- 


Tlie  Wife  (triumplutntly).  "THERE  you  ABE,  GEOBOE  ! 
YACHTIN'  'AT  I  " 


Now  you  LAUGHED  AT  ME  WHEN  I  TOLD  you  TO  GET  YOURSELF  A  NICE 


THE    CREED    OF    SUCCESS. 

["  Dulncds  lias  iU  penalties.     Vivacity  and  courage  have  their  certain  victories." — The  Times  on  ,1  recent  cause 


I  THANK  the?,  Times,  for  thy  consoling  phrasa, 
Though  formerly  men  praised  the  grace  Batavian  ; 

But  that  was  in  the  mid-Victorian  days 
Ere  WALKLEY  coined  the  epithet  of  "  Shavian  "  ; 

Ere  we  had  learned  to  crown  with  lavish  bays 
Outlandish  dancers,  Spanish  and  Moldavian  ; 

Ere  NIETZSCHE  hurled  into  the  black  abysm 

The  crude  insensate  creed  of  Altruism. 

How  far  it  seems,  that  quaint,  old-fashioned  age 
When  people  filled  their  albums  with  "  confessions,' 

And  duly  noted  on  a  pinkish  pago 

Their  prejudices  and  their  prepossessions; 

\\  itii  prudish  zeal  or  puritanic  rage 
Rebuking  genius  for  the  least  transgressions, 

And  always  choosing  BAYARD  as  their  hero 

Instead  of  CASANOVA  or  of  NKUO  ! 

So  was  it  also  with  their  hsroines,  who 
Were  stuffy  when  they  were  not  suicidal, 

Like  Mrs.  FEY,  or  that  insipid  crew 

Who  congregated  round  the  sage  of  Rydal, 

Or  JOAN  OF  Auc — poor  things,  they  never  knew 
Us  whoso  vivacity  will  brook  no  bridle, 

Who  give  our  Sundays  up  to  bridge  or  snooker 

And  see  no  filthincss  iu  any  lucre. 

I  've  never  taken  a3  my  moral  guide 
That  superstitious  peasant,  JOAN  OF  ARC  ; 

I!rr  birth  was  low,  her  style  of  dress  defied 
The  rules  laid  down  by  milliners  of  mark  ; 


I  don't  object  because  she  rode  astride, 

Some  quite  smart  girls  ride  that  way  in  the  Park  : 
I  simply  ask,  did  any  millionaire 
Espouse  her  cause  or  make  her  his  solo  heir? 

I  know  that  some  profess  to  idolize 

GRACE  DARLING,  who,  a  lighthouse-keeper's  daughter, 
Aroused  one  night  by  shipwrecked  sailors'  cries, 

Eowed  out  to  save  them  o'er  the  stormy  water ; 
The  deed  no  doubt  was  brave,  but  was  it  wise 

Judged  by  the  one  true  test — the  cash  it  brought  her  ? 
Besides,  her  social  status  was  obscure ; 
There  was  no  pathos  in  her  dying  poor. 

The  EMPRESS  DOWAGER  OF  CHINA — there 

You  had  a  woman  lacking  erudition, 
Of  dubious  antecedents,  but  of  rare 

Attractions  and  implacable  ambition, 
Who  let  no  scruples  alter  or  impair 

Her  steadfast  will ;  who  never  knew  contrition ; 
While  as  for  enemies  or  even  bores 
She  lopped  their  heads  off  constantly  in  scores. 

I  hold  that  life  lacks  all  refreshing  fruit 
When  need  of  pelf  produces  melancholy, 

But  yields  a  prospect  of  unbounded  loot 
If  only  you  are  resolute  and  jolly. 

In  short,  the  impecunious,  if  astute, 
May  make  an  honest  living  out  of  folly. 

I  think,  in  fine,  "  vivacity  and  courage  " 

Give  flavour  to  the  Cup  of  Life — like  borage. 


98 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  23,  1913. 


THE    NEW    MILITANCY. 

ADOLPHUS  had  entered  the  smoke- 
room  with  an  intense  look  on  his  face. 

I  instantly  retreated  behind  The 
Daily  Telegraph — which  affords  better 
cover  than  any  newspaper  in  England 
— but  he  had  sighted  me. 

"Just  the  very  man  I  wanted  to  see," 
he  exclaimed.  "  I  particularly  need 
your  advice."  And  he  sat  down  very 
close  beside  me. 

I  never  knew  Adolphus  when  he  did 
not  particularly  need  my  advice.  He 
goes  about  the  world  collecting  advice 
and  ignoring  it.  I  have  often  thought 
of  advising  him  to  ask  my  advice. 

"  You  see  I  have  always  regarded 
you  as  a  level  -  headed  man  of  the 
world,"  he  began. 

I  looked  as  level-headed  and  worldly 
as  possible  and  said,  "  What  is  it,  old 
man?  " 

"  It  hasn't  been  formally  announced 
yet,  but  I  'm  engaged." 

"  Ah  !  And  you  want  to  know  how 
to  get  out  of  it  ?  " 

From  his  face  I  knew  that  I  was 
near  the  mark,  but  he  protested. 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  said.  "  It 's 
this  way.  I  didn't  know  that  she  was 
a  strong  politician.  Of  course  she  talks 
intelligently  about  affairs — says  that 
LLOYD  GEORGE  ought  to  be  banished  to 
Bogota,  and  so  forth — but  she  gave 
me  no  reason  to  suppose  that  she  held 
exceptional  opinions  on  politics.  Well, 
I  took  her  in  my  car  to-day  to  see  an 
old  aunt  of  mine.  When  I  brought  the 
car  home  again  I  found  that  she 
had  left  her  bag  in  it.  It  was  merely 
clasped,  not  locked,  and  it  felt  rather 
heavy.  I  wondered  if  she  had  left  her 
purse  in  it.  If  so,  I  had  better  take  it 
back  at  once.  If  not,  it  could  wait  till 
I  saw  her  to-morrow.  Well,  I  opened 
it." 

"Letters  from  a  rival?"  I  interposed. 

"  No,  no.  I  am  far  too  strong  an 
attraction.  What  I  found  was  a  ham- 
mer and  half-a-dozen  pebbles." 

"  My  poor  friend! "  I  said,  and  patted 
him  soothingly  on  the  back. 

"  Now  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  asked  the 
unhappy  Adolphus. 

"  There  are  various  courses  of  action 
before  you,"  I  replied.  "  You  can  break 
off  the  engagement  at  once.  You  can 
say  that  as  she  proposes  to  go  to 
prison,  she  ipso  facto  proposes  to  desert 
you.  You  can  say  that,  if  she  burned 
down  the  House  of  Commons  or  West- 
minster Abbey  after  you  were  married, 
your  estate  would  be  held  responsible 
[or  the  damage.  Another  injustice  to 
man." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  break  it  off,' 
said  Adolphus. 

"  In  that  case  you  must  fall  into  line 


with  her.  Husband  and  wife  should 
bs  as  one.  Go  into  the  movement; 
become  an  active  militant.  You're 
quite  a  stone  too  heavy  and  a  hunger- 
strike  would  do  you  a  world  of  good. 
Besides,  you  used  to  have  a  fine  throw- 
in  from  the  out-field.  You  'ro  just  the 
man  for  the  Strangers'  Gallery." 

Adolphus  shook  his  head.  "  It 's  not 
that  I  'm  absolutely  opposed  to  the 
movement,  but,  frankly,  I  never  cared 
much  for  the  idea  of  prison." 

"Coward.  You  want  to  save  your 
miserable  skin.  Why,  when  you're 
married  you  may  be  glad  of  solitary 
confinement.  However,  if  you  refuse 
either  to  break  it  off  or  to  become  a 
militant,  my  advice  is  to  temporise. 
Say  nothing.  Let  sleeping  dogs  lie.  Of 
course  in  this  case  it 's  a  woman,  and 
awake,  but  the  principle 's  the  same." 

"  Thanks  very  much,"  replied  Adol- 
phus. "  I  shall  consider  your  advice 
very  carefully.  I  shall  do  nothing 
hurriedly.  Eely  on  me." 

The  next  evening  he  burst  jubilantly 
into  the  club  library. 

"  Congratulate  me,"  he  cried.  "  It 's 
all  right.  Have  a  drink !  " 

"  Then  she 's  made  you  join  the 
Men's  League  for  Women's  Suffrage," 
I  said.  ,v  Well,  you  '11  stand  a  hunger- 
strike  better  than  you  would  a  drink- 
strike." 

"  1  've  not  joined.  She 's  all  right. 
There  isn't  a  nicer  girl  in  England.  I 
put  it  to  her  straight,  and  what  do  you 
think  she  is  ?  " 

I  hate  riddles  about  women,  and 
said  so. 

"  She 's  just  a  militant  anti-militant," 
cried  the  triumphant  Adolphus.  "  She 
just  has  a  shy  at  any  militants'  windows 
whenever  she  passes  them." 

"  And  I  dared  to  suggest  that  you 
should  break  off  your  engagement  to 
this  noble  girl !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Adol- 
phus, I  ask  your  pardon,  and  will  my- 
self defray  the  charges  of  the  refresh- 
ment which  you  proposed.  .  .  .  My 
toast,  old  man !  '  The  future  Mrs.  Adol- 
phus, and  more  power  to  her  elbow ! ' ' 


"John  Harris,  of  Trclill,  St.  Kew,  was  en 
his  way  to  Delabole  slate  quarries  yesterday, 
and  on  reaching  the  lower  part  of  Pengelly, 
collided  with  another  workman  (Mr.  J.  A. 
Parsons).  Harris  was  thrown  into  Mr.  Dawe's 
window,  receiving  several  cuts." 

Western  Morning  News. 

Mr.  PAESONS  gives  the  impression  of 
being  rather  quick-tempered. 

"  Miss  Lily  Yeats  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Yeates, 
the  sisters  of  Mr.  Miss  Elizabeth  Yeats,  the 
sisters  of  Mr.  Industries,  which  include  a 
printing  press  worked  entirely  by  women  for 
printing  books  by  Irish  writers." 

Midland  Counties  Advertiser. 
It  is  terrible  to  be  left  in  a  state  of 
uncertainty  like  this. 


CHAMELEON    HENS. 

EUGENIC  theories  are  apparently 
making  headway  in  the  poultry  world. 
The  Daily  Mirror  of  July  17  has  it 
that  Mr.  CHARLES  WOKTHINGTON,  of 
Denver,  Colorado,  U.S.A.,  has  doubled 
the  egg  yield  from  his  fowls  by  sur- 
rounding them  with  gaudy  colours. 
He  painted  their  town  red  and  always 
wore  a  red  robe  and  mask  while  feeding 
the  hens.  Some  further  experiments 
by  Mr.  T.  Thorne  Baker,  Tfie  Daily 
Mirror  scientific  expert,  with  hens  in  a 
scarlet  environment,  have  resulted  in 
eggs  with  a  distinct  orange  tint ! 

Mr.  Punch's  own  Oologist  is  not 
going  to  take  this  challenge  lying 
down,  or  even  sitting.  He  can  pro- 
duce an  Orpington  from  the  Bouverie 
Street  roof-chicken-run  that  is  a  perfect 
chameleon  at  the  game.  During  the 
last  visitation  of  a  pea-soup  fog  her 
eggs  so  harmonised  in  hue  with  their 
surroundings  as  to  be  completely  in- 
visible when  laid,  and  so  could  not  be 
found  at  all.  He  has  a  still  more 
sympathetic  and  intelligent  bird  in  a 
coop  next  the  north-east  chimney-pot. 
This  remarkable  fowl,  a  black-and-tan 
Congolese,  has  developed  her  chro- 
matic sense  to  such  a  degree  that  she 
promptly  responds  with  the  comple- 
mentary tone  to  that  presented  to  her 
gaze  for  the  time  being. 

On  being  shown,  for  example,  the 
office-boy's  orange  tie  the  other  day, 
she  triumphantly  weighed  in  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment  with  a  product  of 
royal  purple. 

We  have,  besides,  a  speckled  Wyan- 
dotte  that  has  lately  taken  up  Post- 
Impressionism.  Her  speciality  is  cub- 
oids and  icosahedrons  with  pea-green 
and  vermilion  cross-hatchings. 

But  we  do  not  think  it  fair  to  press 
these  devoted  creatures  too  far,  or  to 
try  practical  jokes  upon  them,  such  as 
a  repetition  of  the  classic  instance  of 
the  Scotch  plaid  and  the  too-imitative 
chameleon.  No  Highlander,  therefore, 
in  his  native  garb  can  be  allowed  to 
inspect  our  elevated  fowl-ran.  Nuts, 
also,  are  requested  to  subdue  their  taste 
in  socks  when  on  a  visit. 

The  hen,  however,  who  is  most  loyal 
and  most  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
genius  loci  is  an  adventurous  bird  who 
fluttered  down  the  other  day  into  Mr. 
Punch's  own  sanctum,  and,  after  paying 
her  respects  to  a  certain  venerable 
and  venerated  model  figure,  has  ever 
after  laid  eggs  with  a  marked  dorsal 
protuberance.  ZIG-ZAG. 


"FoE  SALE. — Ono  pair  Orangoutangs,  tame 
like  children." — Advt.  in  "  Statesman." 

Still,  somehow  children  look  nicer  about 
the  house. 


JI-I.Y  23,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


<J'J 


OUR    CADDIES'    TEA-FIGHT. 

First  Caddie  (pointing  with  his  thumb  to  another  caddie  further  up  the  table,  who  is  eating  with  his  knife  in  his  mouth). 

OLD  BILL,    QOINQ   RAHND  THE   WHOLE  COURSE   WIV   'IS   IRON." 


LOOK   AT 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
Hunt  the  Slipper  (STANLEY  PAUL),  by  Mr.  OLIVER  MADOX 
HUEFFER,  is  the  sort  of  book  that  must  give  pleasure  all 
round,  and  it  is  obvious  from  the  swing  of  it  that  it  was 
something  of  a  joy-ride  to  the  author.  Far  be  it  from  me 
to  attempt  a  precis  of  the  plot,  for  never  was  an  egg  so  full 
of  meat.  To  begin  with,  a  splendid  old  Englishman,  retired 
general  and  active  member  of  Quarter  Sessions,  sets  out 
to  the  States  in  search  of  a  grand-daughter.  To  end 
with,  there  are  in  New  York  the  happiest  possible  termina- 
tions of  the  many  complexities,  mostly  matrimonial,  that 
ensue.  One  particular  charm  the  tale  has,  that  its  characters 
in  turn  tell  their  part  in  the  first  person  and  very  naively 
reveal  themselves  in  the  process.  The  J.P.  starts  it  in 
a  spirit  of  almost  pathetic  restraint ;  a  swindler  and  a 
daughter  of  pleasure  carry  it  on  in  a  vein  of  tragic  realism  ; 
others  give  it  a  help  along,  and  the  irresponsible  boy  of  the 
piece  ends  it  with  a  burst  of  laughter.  What  matter  if  that 
ending  be  a  shade  too  happy  to  be  consistent  with  the 
tragedy  of  the  middle  ?  As  one  of  the  narrators  observes, 
there  is  enough  trouble  in  the  world  without  harping  on  it ; 
and  the  chosen  text  of  the  book  is,  after  all,  true :  "  II  y  a 
<lcs  hoiiiii'tt'tt  gens  partout,"  including,  I  feel  at  this  moment 
of  completion,  Mr.  OLIVER  MADOX  HUEFFER,  myself,  and, 
no  doubt,  the  reader. 

The  nicest  thing  about  being  a  sporting  novelist  is  that 
you  can  jump  a  stone  wall  of  improbability  without  chang- 
ing feet  on  the  top.  If  you  supposed  that  the  ingenious 


testator  had  already  done  all  he  could  to  complicate  the 
course  of  fiction,  you  reckoned  without  Mrs.  CONYEKS  and 
Sandy  Married  (METHUEN).  By  the  will  of  "an  uncle, 
Hildebrand  Hannyaide  and  Araminta  Mellicffmbe  were 
obliged  either  to  keep  up  a  racing  stable  until  they  won  the 
Grand  National,  or  to  maintain  their  devout  scruples, 
Evangelical  and  High  Church  respectively,  in  comparative 
poverty.  By  the  same  will  Sandy  himself  was  compelled 
to  supervise  the  Northlap  stud  until  the  blue  ribbon  of  the 
'chasing  world  (I  hope  I  have  that  right)  adorned  it. 
Northlap,  it  appears,  is  in  England,  but  a  water-jump  like 
the  Irish  Channel  is  nothing  to  Mrs.  CONYERS,  so  we  swiftly 
find  that  Sandy  and  his  delightful  wife  have  coaxed  the 
trainer  to  move  their  stable  to  Ireland,  whither  Hildebrand 
and  Araminta,  bickering  and  suspicious,  pursue  them. 
Once  amongst  the  bogs  and  heather,  Mrs.  CONYERS  of 
course  is  at  home,  and  the  atmosphere  she  creates  would 
rouse  hunting-songs  in  the  heart  of  a  fruitarian.  Even 
Hildebrand  and  Araminta,  infected  by  the  general  enthusi- 
asm, buy  themselves  mounts,  are  badly  and  amusingly 
cheated,  ride  to  hounds,  and  attend  the  most  extravagant 
of  race-meetings;  and  the  rest  of  the  characters  live 
entirely  on,  with  or  by  horses,  and  sometimes  all  three  at 
once.  How  it  all  ended,  how  the  great  victory  at  Aintree 
was  won,  and  what  happened  to  Hildebrand  and  Araminta, 
you  must  find  out  for  yourself.  The  book  goes  with  a 
gallop,  and,  if  you  think  that  the  farcical  fun  poked  at  the 
two  unfortunate  bigots  is  somewhat  out  of  keeping  with 
the  real  comedy  of  Irish  life  which  the  authoress  presents 
both  with  freshness  and  enthusiasm,  well,  you  shouldn't 
have  started  reading  an  Irish  sporting  romance. 


100 


PUNCH,   OR  TJIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[Jur,T  23,  1913. 


I  have  just  returned  from  a  delightful  week-end.  The 
house-,  called  Redmarley,  is  a  charming  old  place,  situate, 
as  the  auctioneers  say,  in  one  of  the  most  picturesque  neigh- 
bourhoods in  the  Cotswolds;  so  there  was  plenty  of  good 
scenery.  But  my  friends  with  whom  I  was  staying  would 
make  any  spot  happy.  FfolUot  is  the  name  of  them,  and 
they  arc  the  jolliest,  most  companionable  folk  in  the  world. 
Perhaps  Mr.  FfolUot  (who  has  nerves,  reads  WALTER  PATER 
and  doesn't  appreciate  noise)  might  he  a  little  bit  in  the 
way  ;  but,  as  he  hardly  ever  leaves  his  study,  that  need 
worry  nobody.  Mrs.  FfolUot  is  an  angel — so  pretty  and 
unselfish  and  sympathetic  that  it  is  no  wonder  that  her 
crew  of  delightful  children  simply  adore  her.  I  wish  I  had 
time  to  tell  you  more  about  the  children.  Two  of  them  are 
practically  grown  up  ;  indeed  Mary  astonished  us  all,  at  the 
end  of  my  visit,  by  becoming  engaged  to  a  nice  soldier  (just 
when  I  myself  was  almost  sure  she  would  marry  the  young 
Eadical  M.P.  who  so  admired  her — but  it  was  bettor  as 


things  happened), 
she  goes  to  India. 


there  are  two  delightful 
ih'fants  growing  up  ;  and 
meanwhile  there  are  the 
Rugby  twins,  Uz  and  Buz, 
to  keep  things  lively.  We 
had  great  fun  one  evening 
when  Buz  dressed  up  as  a 
Suffragette  and  interviewed 
young  Mr.  Gallup  about 
votes  for  women — and  I 
must  say  the  latter  took  the 
joke  very  well.  But  then  [ 
everybody  in  or  near  Red-j 
marley  is  like  that.  Would ; 
you  care  to  meet  them  all  j 
[or  yourself  ?  Then  buy 
Mr.  L.  ALLEN  HAEKER'S 
new  book.  It  is  called, 
quite  simply,  The  FfolHots 
of  Iledmarlcy  (MURRAY), 
and  I  pity  you  if  you  don't 
end  by  regarding  every 
character  in  it  as  a  personal 
friend. 


The  others  will  miss  her  awfully  when 
Still,  the  house  can  hardly  be  dull,  as 


all  so  lacking  in  fibre  that  they  had  better  have  been 
women.)  Further,  to  condemn  tiie  wholo  British  aristoc- 
racy as  "ill-bred,"  and  to  applaud  "the  beautiful  women 
who  by  night  walk  up  and  clown  Piccadilly"  as  noble,  if 
guilty  of  some  "childish  naughtiness,"  is  too  much.  These 
and  its  many  other  sweeping  but  half-baked  ideas  will  not 
commend  the  book,  except  perhaps  to  the  Militants;  and  the 
more  shrewd  oven  of  them  will  not  thank  Mrs.  HARROD  for 
this  unconscious  exposition  of  the  absurdity  and  looseness 
of  which  the  feminine  mind  is  sometimes  capable  when  it 
starts  generalising. 


I  recommend  Mr.  CHRISTOPHER  STONE'S  Letters  to  an 
Eton  Boy  (FISHER  UNWIN)  to  all  true  lovers  of  Eton.  It 
is  one  thing  to  write  familiarly  about  the  Wall  Game, 
St.  Andrew's  Day,  Pop,  Agar's  Plough,  Upper  Club,  Trials! 
the  Winchester  Match,  Lord's,  Rowland's  and  all  the  rest 
of  it,  and  quite  another  to  invest  them,  as  he  does,  with  the 
right  atmosphere.  The  boy  who  gets  the  letters  is  in  his 


last  year. 


THE  WEAK  POINT. 

First  Player.  "How  MANY  HAVE  YOU  TAKEN?" 
Second  Player.  "ELEVEN.    How  MANY 'VE  YOU?" 
First  Player.  "  ONLY  TEN;    BUT  you  '1X1  WIN  THE  HOLE.     I'M  so 

ROTTEN  WHEN  IT  COMES  TO  THE   SHORT   GAME." 


His  chief  correspondents  are  his  worldly  but 
warm-hearted  and  in  some 
ways  sensible  mother ;  his 
ratheV  uncle-ish  uncle, 
whose  epistles  —  they  are 
really  quite  Pauline — show  a 
profound  knowledge  of  Eton 
and  the  world,  and,  I  might 
add,  of  boy  nature;  and,  last 
and  most  charming,  his 
clear  and  only  love.  As  for 
this  last  it  is  so  long  ago 
that  perhaps  I  have  for- 
gotten, but — do  people  at 
Eton  get  engaged  almost  as 
soon  as  they  get  into  Pop  ? 
However,  n'importc.  For, 
to  tell  the  truth,  Lett-ice 
Ambrose  is  to  my  mind  the 
making  of  the  book.  There 
are  two  other  episodes  in 
the  boy's  life — one  con- 
nected with  a  married  lady 
with  a  past,  the  other  with 


FRANCES  FORBES- 
ROBERTSON  (Mrs.  HARROD)  is  up  against  people  in  general, 
and  it  is  possible  that  people  in  general,  having  read 
The  Horrible  Man  (STANLEY  PAUL),  will  be  up  against 
FRANCES  FORBES-ROBERTSON.  The  story  itself  I  liked, 
and  so  will  others  who  can  tolerate  the  sudden  inter- 
vention of  the  supernatural  in  everyday  affairs.  It  is  the 
study  of  a  young  girl's  soul,  pure,  passionate  but  immature ; 
her  encounters  with  every  sort  of  man,  and  her  occasional 
metamorphosis  into  an  eerie  white  hound.  I  do  not  com- 
plain bitterly  of  the  frontispiece,  a  portrait  of  Mrs.  HARROD 
at  the  age  of  eleven,  nor  of  the  quotation  on  the  fly-leaf : 
Read  it  ...  It  is  so  beautiful !  "  nor  yet  of  the  dedication, 
"To  my  beloved  son,  ROY  HARROD,  Scholar"  (as  wero  so 
many  of  us  and  mostly  to  our  private  shame).  These 
things  and  a  certain  affectation  of  style,  imitative  of  the 
Meredithian  manner,  may  be  forgiven  in  a  work  ingenious, 
at  any  rate,  if  not  clever.  The  trouble  lies  in  its  wholesale 
and  almost  malicious  attacks  on  humanity  in  general  and  the 
masculine  part  of  it  in  particular.  As  a  sex  we  are  learning 
to  bear  with  fortitude  our  detractors'  trick  of  citing  the 
bully,  the  seducer  and  the  common  cheat  as  typical  of  us; 
what  we  cannot  stomach  is  the  effeminate  creature  held  up 
to  us  as  the  model  man.  (Malleson,  Grey  and  Stuart  were 


a  visit  to  a  night  club  in 
London — which  seem  rather 
out  of  place  in  a  school  story, 
or,  as  perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  rather  unusual.  For,  as  Mr. 
STONE  treats  them,  they  are  perfectly  innocent  and  natural, 
and  they  helped  to  produce  some  of  Lettice's  letters,  which 
are  a  delightful  revelation  of  modern  girlhood.  Mr.  STONE 
has  in  fact  woven  into  his  book  of  school-life  a  pleasant 
little  picture  of  a  healthy  romantic  attachment,  without  any 
of  the  stale  old  nonsense  of  headmasters'  daughters  and  the 
like  which  makes  one  wonder  if  the  writers  have  ever  seen 
the  inside  of  a  public  school. 


"  Every  precaution  was  taken  to  guard  during  the  day  the  platform 
used  by  the  Royal  party.  A  special  posse  of  police  was  on  duty,  and 
no  one  without  a  special  permit  was  allowed  to  step  on  them." 

Manchester  Evcnin-j  Neu'S. 

The  rush  for  permits  must  have  been  terrific,  even  among 
quite  respectable  citizens. 


Extract  from  an  Essay  on  the  Founding  of  Rome  :— 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet  quarrelled  about  which  hill  to  build  Eomo  on. 
Romeo  saw  twelve  vultures  and  Juliet  saw  six,  but  Juliet  saw  them 
first.     So  Romeo,  killed  Juliet  and  built  Rome  on  his  hill,  and  that  is 
why  it  is  called  Rome." 

However,  the  ghost  of  Juliet  had  her  revenge  when  the 
great  CAESAR  was  called  JULIUS  out  of  compliment  to  her. 


JULY  .30.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


101 


"  STOP,  THIEF!  " 


THE  TRANSFORMATION. 


••WELL  BUN,  SIR." 

"  I  HOPES  YOU  'LL  BEAT  THE  RECORD,  Sin." 


CHARIVARIA. 

WITH  reference  to  the  Garden  Party 
given  by  the  KING  and  QUEEN  to 
5,000  teachers,  we  understand  that 
their  Majesties,  to  their  great  regret, 
find  themselves  unable  to  accept  all  the 
return  invitations. 

*...* 

There  is,  we  hear,  considerable  feel- 
ing against  the  Government  in  the 
office  of  T.  P.'s  Weekly.  That  journal 
instituted  a  competition  to  decide  who 
should  be  Poet  Laureate,  and  Mr. 
ASQUITH  coolly  appointed  Dr.  BRIDGES 
to  the  office  without  awaiting  the  result 
of  the  competition.  This  action  on 
the  part  of  the  PREMIER  is  all  the  more 
surprising  since  we  understand  that 
T.  P.  is  an  Irishman. 

By  the  way,  it  is  said  that  Mr. 
LLOYD  GEOEGE  at  first  objected  to  the 
PKKMIER'S  choice  on  the  ground  that 
the  proposed  Laureate  was  a  medical 
man  and  not  on  a  panel.  It  was, 
however,  pointed  out  that  Dr.  BRIDGES 
was,  in  fact,  a  reformed  doctor,  who 
had  given  up  medicine  in  favour  of 
Poetry.  „,  * 

* 

Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL'S  proposals 
in  regard  to  our  Navy  have  been  well 
received  in  Germany. 

The  cruiser  Donegal  succeeded  last 
week  in  salving  the  derelict  Norwegian 
.barquo  Glenmark.  The  sole  occupant 
was  a  white  cat,  which  bit  a  blue- 
jacket who  tried  to  stroke  it.  Its  bite 
was  worse  than  its  barque. 

j|. 

At  CHRISTIE'S,  the  other  day,  "  The 
Otter  Hunt,"  which  originally  cost 


£10,500,  was  sold  for  £1,260.  At  a 
time  when  everything  tends  to  increase 
in  price  it  is  good  to  know  that  in  future 
our  Landseers  are  likely  to  cost  us  less. 

&    £ 

Four  young  women  who  last  week 
promenaded  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York, 
in  slit  skirts,  etc.,  were  surrounded  by 
an  enraged  mob  ;  but  the  gentleman 
who,  with  the  view  of  remedying  the 
outrage  on  good  taste,  shouted,  "  Tear 
the  things  off  I"  must,  we  fancy,  have 
been  an  Irish-  American. 


We    are    glad    to    see 
campaign  being  started 


signs    of    a 
in   favour  of 

red-haired  men.  For  too  long  have 
they  been  treated  as  pariahs.  We  have 
even  known  their  presence  objected  to 
at  a  funeral.  This,  of  course,  is  foolish,  for 
nothing  brightens  up  a  funeral  so  much 

as  one  or  two  of  these  cheerful  heads. 
%  # 

* 

A  thief  broke  into  a  house  at 
Great  Bircham,  Norfolk,  last  week, 
carried  off  a  purse  which  held  several 
new  farthings,  which  he  apparently 
mistook  for  sovereigns,  and  overlooked 
a  box  containing  a  considerable  sum  of 
money.  The  Jemmy,  which  is  the 
organ  of  the  profession,  is,  we  under- 
stand, about  to  open  a  fund  for  this 
poor  fellow,  who  is  said  to  be  suffering 
from  a  breakdown  consequent  on  shock. 

:;:    * 

"  The  majority  of  small  nodding 
animals  now  on  the  toy  market  are 
of  Japanese  manufacture,"  we  read, 
"  and  are  supplanting  those  made  in 
Germany."  Animals  "  mit  noddings 
on  "  will  no  doubt  be  the  rage  this  year. 
*^* 

Large  numbers  of  swifts  have 
appeared  in  the  neighbourhood  of 


Epping  Forest  and  are  attacking  the 
mosquitoes  vigorously.  The  local 

powers  do  not  propose  to  intervene. 

=;=  t  * 

By  a  stampede  of  their  horses  at 
Frensham  last  week  the  Queen's  Bays 
were  deprived  of  a  good  many  mounts. 
They  received,  we  understand,  some 
most  touching  letters  of  sympathy  from 
officers  and  men  in  our  Territorial 
cavalry.  ,,.  .,. 

* 

"FRANCE'S  THREE-YEAR  SOLDIERS," 
read  the  old  lady.  "  It  seems  very 
young,"  she  mused. 

1  *^ 
According  to  a  Board  of  Trade  report, 

the  average  of  fatal  railway  accidents 
last  year  was  only  one  passenger  killed 
in  every  68,100,000  journeys.  The 
Railway  Companies  wish  respectfully 
to  draw  attention  to  the  fact  that  this 
compares  most  favourably  with  the 
returns  as  to  aeroplane  accidents. 

Will  the  unrest  in  the  Balkans  ever 
end  ?  The  latest  report  is  to  the  effect 
that  the  Danube  is  rising. 

Functions  like  the  visit  of  the  Mayor 
and  Corporation  of  Peterborough  to 
inspect  the  Braceborough  Waterworks 
are  usually  such  dull  affairs  that 
we  cannot  withhold  a  meed  of  praise 
from  the  Chief  Constable  and  the 
Councillor  who  enlivened  the  occasion, 
the  other  day,  by  gamely  falling  into 
the  reservoir.  #  # 

It  is  said  that  Mr.  EAMSAT  MAC- 
DONALD  is  not  to  be  offered  a  seat  in 
the  Cabinet.  The  alleged  reason  is 
that,  if  the  seat  were  to  be  offered  to 
him,  he  might  accept  it. 


VOL.    C'XI.V. 


102 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


HOME    DEFENCE. 

fMr  ASQUITH'S  promise  of  a  Bill  designed  to  prevent  England 
from  slipping  into  the  sea  will  be  glad  news  to  holiday-makers  on  the 
South  and  East  Coasts."— Daily  Chronicle.} 

ROLL  on,  insatiate  Ocean,  roll ! 

Bring  up  your  billows,  mile  on  mile, 
Gathering  speed  from  either  pole 

To  pound  on  our  deciduous  isle ! 
Eoll  on,  I  say,  but  roll  in  vain ! 
Never  our  soil  shall  feed  your  maw  again. 

Some  years  ago  upon  the  strand 
A  British  Monarch  took  his  seat 

And  tried  to  make  you  understand 
That  you  were  not  to  wet  his  feet; 

In  safety,  well  behind  the  throne, 

His  Court  encouraged  this  defiant  tone. 

You  took  no  notice.     On  you  came 

(As  he  had  beqn  a  barking  pup) 
Straight  for  his  toes  to  swamp  the  same, 

Till  he  removed  them  higher  up, 
And  to  his  courtiers  cried,  "  What  ho ! 
I  said  it  was  no  use;   I  told  you  so." 

To-day  a  louder  challenge  rings 
About  our  country's  fretted  base ; 

A  nobler  KNUT  superbly  flings 
His  glove  in  your  erosive  face ; 

ASQUITH  himself  arrives  to  bar 

Your  moist  advances,  saying,  "  Sea,  thus  far ! " 

So  shall  "Britannia  rules  the  waves" 
Mean  that  you  mustn't  undennine 

Cliffs  and  marine  hotels  and  caves 
And  things  that  overlook  the  brine_;  . 

So  shall  our  empire  o'er  the  foam 

Begin  where  Charity  begins — at  home. 

For  lo !   our  KNUT  shall  break  your  ranks 
With  mole  and  groyne  and  granite  wall, 

And  to  the  strange  anaemic  cranks 
Who  like  to  have  their  England  small 

This  stout  remark  shall  he  address: 

"  She  may  be  little,  but  she  shan't  be  less." 

O  theme  for  poets  to  rehearse ! 

Yea,  well  might  he,  our  laureate-leach, 
Accost  your  waves  in  courtly  verse, 

Singing  "  No  more  into  the  breach  1 " 
Or  write  To  Neptune  Dammed :   An  Ode, 
Telling  him  plainly,  "Thou  shalt  not  erode." 

0.  S. 

THE    PERFECT    CRICKETER. 

XVIII. — THE  CARE  OP  THE  EOLLEH. 
(Somewhat  in  the  self-effacing  manner  of  J.  B.  HOBBS.) 
THE  best  of  cricket  is  that,  if  you  get  to  the  top  of  the 
tree,  newspapers  will  pay  you  to  write  about  the  game  anc 
other  cricketers,  even  if  you  can't  write.  Of  course,  bein£ 
at  the  top  of  the  tree  is  itself  pretty  good  fun,  especially  to 
a  Surrey  man,  because  at  the  Oval  you  can  always  counl 
on  a  friendly  crowd,  even  if  they  do  drop  their  aitches 
a  bit.  And  it's  true  that  we  give  them  the  opportunity 
HAYWARD  and  me,  to  say  nothing  of  HAYES  and  HITCH 
Hero-worship  never  did  anyone  any  harm,  except  perhaps 
the  hero. 


Now  and  then  one  gets  a  set-back,  of  course,  and  cricket 's 
a  game  where  you  expect  it.  In  fact,  it 's  no  use  playing 
cricket  at  all  unless  you're  ready  for  bad  luck  as  well  as 
*ood.  The  best  of  us  have  our  spoils  of  bad  luck — when 
lie  ball's  never  bigger  than  a  pea  and  the  wicket's  as 
wide  as  a  church  door.  Even  W.G.  (who  has  just  had  a 
Mi-thday,  and  I  gladly  hold  out  my  hand  to  him  to  wish 
lim  many  happy  returns,  and  I  wish  he  was  young  enough 
;o  be  among  us  once  more) — even  W.G.  could  fail  three  or 
'our  times  consecutively  even  in  his  zenith.  Personally  I 
lave  been  somewhat  out  of  luck  during  a  week  or  two  of 
lis  season ;  however,  I  must  admit  that  I  was  somewhat 
surprised  before  the  Gentlemen  and  Players'  match  started 
at  the  Oval  when  I  heard  one  man  ask  another,  "  What  do 
;hey  play  'OiiBS  for  ?  A  bit  out  of  form,  ain't  'e  ?  "  "  Just 
a  hit,"  replied  the  other,  "  but  they  do  say  as  'o\v  'e 's 
played  for  'is  fieldin'."  This  seemed  to  me  incredible  talk, 
ind  I  was  therefore  not  knocked  all  of  a  heap  when  I 
'ound  out  afterwards  that  the  two  were  genuine  admirers 
of  mine,  and  had  been  put  up  to  saying  what  they  did  by 
one  of  my  rivals. 

What  the  public  don't  always  understand  is  that  a 
ricketer  is  usually  doing  his  best,  or,  at  any  rate,  if  he  is 
not  doing  his  best  he  is  doing  something  else  which  fully 
occupies  his  mind.  Once  or  twice  lately  even  1  have  let  a 
)all  get  past  me  at  cover ;  not  in  the  least  because  I  was 
lelding  badly,  but  because  I  was  slightly  absent-minded 
through  thinking  of  something  else — an  article  for  a  paper, 
perhaps,  or  a  new  way  of  playing  a  stroke.  Yet  some 
foolish  fellow  in  the  crowd  has  groaned.  Still  the  medal 
nas  its  other  side,  for -only  last  week  I  had  a  letter  for- 
warded on  to  me  at  Lord's,  and  the  writer  asked  me  if  I 
would  sell  him  the  bat  with  which  I  had  been  making  so 
many  runs.  I  didn't  know  whether  to  reply  or  not,  because 
it  looked  to  me  as  if  it  might  be  a  piece  of  sarcasm,  and 
one  does  not  like  to  be  "had";  but  even  if  it  is  not  I 
can  assure  him  that  I  never  part  with  a  good  bat--indeed, 
when  I  have  done  with  a  really  serviceable  weapon  it  is  not 
of  much  use  to  anybody. 

Next  week  I  shall  go  into  the  difficult  question  of  the 
best  kind  of  rope  to  put  round  the  pitch  to  protect  it  during 
the  tea  interval. 

From  the  programme  of  a  Kwala  Lumpar  performance 
of  Hamlet : — • 

"1.  There  was  a  king  who  was  poisoned  by  his  wife  for  she  was 
making  love  with  her  brother  in  law. 

2.  The  late  king  became  a  ghost  and  the  soldiers  who  were  taking 
charge  of  the  grave  informed  Prince  Hamlet  the  ghost  told  Prince 
Hamlet  all  the  secret,  and  asked.  Hamlet  to  have  his  revenge. 

3.  Prince  Hamlet  disguised  himself  as  a  poor  man  and  went  to  his 
lover  Ophilier. 

4.  Ophilier  did  not  make  him  out  and  she  sent  him  away. 

5.  Prince  Hamlet  started  a  play,  and  showed  to  his  uncle. 

6.  His  uncle  and  his  mother  was  so  ashamed  of  this  went  home 
at  once. 

7.  Prince  Hamlet  at  once  started  for  his  house  and  killed  his  uncle 
and  mother,  while  he  was  aiming  at  his  uncle.     His  Prime  Minister 
happened  to  pass  and  he  was  shot  dead  instead  of  his  uncle. 

8.  His  uncle  at  once  sent  him  to  another  country  for  school. 

9.  Ophilier  got  mad  and  threw  herself  in  a  river  and  dead. 

10.  Prince  Hamlet  returned  in  his  country  and  haved  a  sham  fight 
with  the  son  of  the  Prime  Minister  and  all  died. 


PRETTY  LONG 


TO    MENTION    COME    AND 
DELIGHTFUL    Sl'OKY." 


WITNESS    THE 


It  is  a  pity  that  the  author's  name  is  not  given,  but  it 
sounds  an  exciting  play,  and  we  should  like  to  see  it,  even 
without  this  further  lure : — 

"New  and  novel.  Lovely  good.  Fine  and  sensational.  A  splendid 
display  of  music,  songs,  scenes  and  costumes,  &c.  By  our  own 
smart  actors  and  actresses." 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  30,   1913. 


ONE    OF    THE    KNUTS. 

MB.  ASQUITH  (addressing  the  Ocean).  "  THIS    IS    GETTING    A    BIT    TOO    STEEP.     1  'M    AFEAID 
I    MUST    EEPOET    YOU    TO    THE    HOUSE." 

[The  PREMIER  has  promised  a  Bill  dealing  with  coast-erosion.] 


JULY  30.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHA.1UVAUI. 


105 


GENTILITY    IN    OUR    GARDEN    SUBURB. 

"JUST  THINK  OP  IT,    MllS.    BllOWN  HAS  GOT  THE  TKI.F.PHOSK  FIXED.      I   WOULDN'T   HAVE  OXE." 
"WHY  NOT?"  "YOU  HAVE  TO   ASSOCIATE   WITH  ANYBODY." 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

SOME  NEW  DEPARTURES. 

Park  Lane. 

DEAREST  DAPHNE, — An  outstanding 
feature  of  the  season  just  ending  has 
certainly  been  the  evolution  of  the 
bazaar.  A  few  weeks  ago  somebody 
had  the  bright  idea  of  selling  badges  to 
protect  people  from  being  bothered  by 
sellers,  but  already  that  's  vieux  jeu. 
At  the  Who  's  Who  Fair  (a  prodigious 
.success,  my  dear,  which  brought  in  an 
enormous  sum  for  a  most  deserving 
charity — I  forget  what)  we  charged  five 
shillings  admission,  and  we  sold  little 
ducky  silk  flags,  with  "  I  don't  want  to 
buy  anything "  on  them,  at  a  guinea 
each.  We  didn't  trouble  to  stock  any 
of  the  stalls.  Fact  is,  we  've  faced  the 
'truth  that  ces  autres  only  come  to 
bazaars  to  look  at  us.  The  sensational 
feature  was  that  we  stall-holders  wore 
as  head-dresses  our  own  family  crests. 
ll</,s)('£  that  a  lovely  idea  of  your 
Blanche's !  And  the  loveliest  part  of 
it  was  to  see  the  crests  of  people  who 
haven't  any!  My  sweet  thing,  it  was 
absolutely !  The  ihillyon-Boundermere 
woman  had  got  the  Heralds'  College  to 


find  her  some  sort  of  animal,  and  she 
had  it  on  her  head  carried  out  in  black 
velvet  and  gold.  "  Whatever  is  it 
meant  for  ? "  I  asked  Norty  in  con- 
fidence. "  I  should  think  it  'a  a  bounder 
rampant,"  he  said. 

The  outlying  tribes  came  pouring 
down  from  the  height3  of  North  and 
South  London  and  simply  swarmed 
into  the  Fair.  They  all  bought  the 
little  "  Don't- want-to-buy-anything  " 
flags,  and  then  they  moved  upon  the 
stall- holders  en  masse.  For  another 
guinea  any  stall-holder  was  ready  to 
explain  her  crest  and  give  a  few  par- 
ticulars of  herself.  For  two  guineas  a 
five-minutes'  chat  might  be  bought,  in 
which  we  might  please  ourselves  as  to 
whether  we  answered  questions  truth- 
fully or  not ;  but  for  five  guineas  we 
pledged  ourselves  to  stick  to  facts.  It 
was.  gorgeous !  I  heard  someone  who  'd 
duly  planked  down  the  guineas  asking 
Mrs.  Golding-Newman  (the  newest  of 
the  new  people — she  got  there  by  the 
flukiest  of  flukes !)  who  she  was  and 
what  her  crest  meant.  "  I  'm  Mrs. 
Golding-Newman,"  she  replied  with  a 
good  bit  of  pomp  and  circumstance; 
"  and  my  head-dress  is  the  Golding-' 


Newman  crest — three  goldfishes,  tach- 
ant  de  nager."  Wasn't  that  dilly? 
Whatever  the  woman  supposed  she  was 
saying,  it  was  utterly  descriptive  of  her 
efforts  to  be  in  the  swim.  Popsy,  Lady 
Eamsgate,  was  in  great  form  and  very 
chirpy,  till  her  head-dress,  the  Bamsgate 
crest,  two  arms  counter-embowed,  the 
dexter  band  holding  a  knife  and  the 
sinister  a  fork  (the  founder  of  their 
family,  you  know,  was  Grand  Carver  to 
HENRY  VIII.),  caught  in  the  decora- 
tions and  got  pulled  off ;  and,  oh !  my 
dearest  and  best,  more  than  the  head- 
dress came  off — and  Popsy  is  doing  a 
rest  cure!  Before  that  catastrophe 
happened  she  'd  been  telling  questioners, 
in  return  for  their  guineas,  that  she 
was  thirty-five,  that  she  'd  married  the 
late  Lord  R.  when  she  was  thirteen, 
that  she  had  an  average  of  twenty 
offers  a  week,  but  didn't  mean  to  marry 
again,  that  she  loved  dancing,  and  that 
her  favourite  dance  just  now  was  the 
Leapfrog  Yalse. 

A  propos  of  Mrs.  Golding-Newman, 
the  newest  woman,  there 's  been  a  hard- 
fought  social  race  between  her  and 
Mrs.  Bullyon-Boundermere  in  London 
this  summer.  If  one  forged  ahead  for 


106 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


a  time,  the  other  came  again  and  stuck 
to  her  gamely.  When  the  Golding- 
Newman  woman  had  Trillini  to  sing  at 
one  of  her  parties,  the  B.-B.  hit  back 
l>y  getting  Tvvirlinski  to  do  his  cx/jiii/ 
dance,  "  The  p.m.  of  a  Satyr,"  at  her 
next  affair.  It  was  a  regular  ding-dong 
race,  and  no  one  could  spot  the  winner, 
till  Mrs.  B.-B.  came  a  most  tremendous 
cropper.  //  en  etait  ainsi.  She  gave 
a  big  party,  old  Lady  Needmore,  as 
usual,  inviting  the  people  and  receiving 
them,  with  the  B.-B.  in  the  offing. 
The  latter,  not  having  much  to  do  and 
being  obsessed  with  the  notion  of  un- 
invited guests  (and  really,  my  dear, 
they  've  put  in  some  strong  work  this 
season !),  kept  a  sharp  look-out  for  these. 
At  last  she  felt  sure  she  'd  spotted  one. 
"  I  'm  certain,"  she  remarked  to  Mr. 
B.-B.,  "  that  common- 
looking  man  in  ill-fit- 
ting evening  clothes, 
leaning  by  the  door  of 
the  music  -  room,  is 
one  of  those  uninvited 
creatures !  I  '11  go  and 
speak  to  him."  "Eight 
you  are,  M'ria!"  said 
her  better  half.  So  she 
sailed  up  to  the  man : 
"  I  am  the  lady  of  the 
house;  may  I  ask  your 
name?"  "My  name's 
Snaggers,"  answered 
the  man.  "  Just  what 
I  should  think  it  would 
be!"  said  Mrs.  B.-B., 
with  cutting  sarcasm. 

i  "  No  person    of    that 

'  name  was  invited,  Mr. 
Snaggers,  so  perhaps 
you  '11  withdraw  before 


I  'm  simply  furious,  cherie,  with  these 
Balkan  people  for  going  on  fighting. 
At  that  little  dinner  I  gave  for  the 
Delegates  when  they  were  over  here, 
I  'd  such  a  lovely  talk  with  them  and 
was  sure  1  'd  made  a  great  impression. 
"  You  simply  must  come  to  an  agree- 
ment," I  said  to  them.  "  Why  shouldn't 
you?  What  docs  it  matter  who  the 
places  belong  to  ?  It 's  absurd !  War 
is  all  very  well  at  first ;  it  makes  a  little 
change,  and  often  gives  us  a  new  colour 
or  a  fashion ;  but  it  ought  to  stop  quite, 
quite  soon,  or  it  becomes  a  bore  ;  and  you 
may  take  it  as  a  cert  that  the  Great 
Powers  won't  stand  being  bored !  " 

And  they  were  such  darlings,  and 
seemed  so  pleased,  and  laughed  so 
much  with  me  and  with  each  other, 
that  I  thought  peace  was  assured.  It 's 


THE   WATER  BABY. 

[' '  At  to-day's  meeting  of  the  British  Medical 
Association  at  Brighton,  Dr.  Kennedy,  of  Bath, 
said  he  once  placed  a  child  one  year  old  iu  the 
sea,  and  it  struck  out  and  swam."] 

MASTER  Bunting,  who,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, has  just  attained  his  first 
birthday,  this  morning  began  his 
attempt  to  swim  the  Channel.  He 
arrived  early  on  the  pier  in  his  mail- 
cart,  and  remained  in  rather  over- 
animated  conversation  with  his  parents 
for  some  minutes.  An  enquiry  by  our 
representative  as  to  the  prospects  of 
the  attempt  elicited  from  the  dis- 
tinguished swimmer  a  hearty  goo-goo. 

Master  Bunting  entered  the  sea  at 
9.1  A.M.  He  seemed  somewhat  dis- 
tressed on  first  contact  with  the  water, 
and  kicked  a  good  deal, 


'  'E  'B    A    BIT   BASHFUL   AT   FUST,    JIlSTER,    BUT    *E    SOON   PALS    UP   W1V   YKB. 


I  send  for  the  police ! "  The  man 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  laughed  and 
went  away.  At  the  end  of  the 
evening  Mrs.  B.-B.  said  reproachfully 
to  Lady  Needmore,  "  What  a  pity  the 
guest  I  most  wanted  to  see  didn't  come ! 
1  mean  the  big -game  hunting  earl 
who 's  had  such  thrilling  adventures. 
I  saw  his  name  in  your  list — Lord  St. 
Aldegonde."  "Oh,  Snaggers,"  old 
Needmore  corrected.  "But,  my  dear 
woman,  he  did  come !  I  saiv  him.  He 
came  rather  late,  after  we  'd  left  off 
receiving  'em,  and  went  away  quite 
soon,  I  believe.  Here,  somebody !  Get 
some  brandy  or  something!  Mrs. 
Boundermere 's  fainting."  It  was  a 
hard  blow  for  her,  as  St.  Aldegonde 's 
been  quite  a  celebrity  since  his  return 
from  his  last  big  -  game  expedition, 
owing  to  his  having  shot  an  enormous 
creature  called  a  momrnaroo,  that 
everybody  thought  was  extinct.  But 
I  believe  what  she  felt  most  cruelly 
was  that  she  didn't  know  St.  Aldegonde 
is  pronounced  "  Snaggers  "  ! 


no  use  trying  to  do  good  in  this  wicked 
world ! 

One  of  the  new  departures  this 
season  lias  been  that  several  popular 
people  have  turned  themselves  into 
companies.  The  first  to  do  it  was 
Bobby  Brillmore,  who  makes  things 
go  so  splendidly  at  dinners  and  dances 
and  country  houses.  And  so,  as  old 
Lord  Brokeystone's  allowance  to  his 
younger  sons  is  immensely  tiny,  and  as 
Bobby  found  life  a  harder  problem  than 
even  the  hardest  thinker  does,  while  at 
the  same  time  he  was  simply  snowed 
under  with  invitations,  he  thought  he  'd 
turn  his  popularity  to  account.  And 
now  he's  a  company  with  offices  in  the 
City  and  a  trade  motto  that  he  cribbed 
from  Soap  or  Cocoa  or  something — 
"  Have  him  in  your  Houses  " — and 
anyone  who  wants  him  must  take 
shares.  (Norty  says  the  shares  are 
already  quoted  on  'Change  !)  Quite  an 
idea,  isn't  it?  Perhaps  I  may  follow 
suit  and  become,  Ever  thine, 

BLANCHE  (Ltd.!) 


1  but   afterwards  settled 
down  to  a  strong  over- 
arm stroke,  which  took 
[  him  through  the  sea  at 
i  a  good  rate. 

Master  Bunting  was 
accompanied  by  a  tur- 
bine   pram  -  boat    con- 
taining his  nurse  (who 
>  was  seen  to  be  reading 
i  Home    Gloats    as    the 
small  vessel  cast  off),  a 
police    officer    (whose 
,  duty  it  will  be  to  con- 
'  verse  with  Master  Bun- 
ting's     attendant),     a 
!  golliwog,     a     crib,     a 
i  gallon     of     milk,    and 
!  several  tins  of  Kidling's 
i  Food. 

At  10  Master  Bun- 
ting partook  of  a  half- 
bottle  of  milk.  His  stroke  then 
became  stronger.  At  eleven  o'clock, 
to  afford  him  a  slight  diversion,  a  rattle 
was  lowered  into  the  water,  and  the 
intrepid  swimmer  amused  himself  with 
this  for  a  few  minutes  before  resuming 
his  powerful  stroke. 

Later.  12.15. — Master  Bunting  is 
still  going  strong.  A  few  minutes  ago 
he  howled  for  a  spoonful  of  Kidling's 
Food.  The  nurse,  assisted  by  the 
police  officer,  administered  the  refresh- 
ment, and  Master  Bunting  then  pro- 
ceeded. 

At  two  o'clock  the  golliwog  entered 
the  sea  and  accompanied  Master 
Bunting  in  his  progress  over  the  next 
half-mile. 

Latest  news :  Calais,  5.13  A.M. — 
Master  Bunting  arrived  here  at  5.101 
this  morning.  He  was  met  by  members 
of  the  Oui-Oui  Swimming  Club.  He 
appeared  little  the  worse  for  his  im- 
mersion and,  after  dictating  a  shori 
account  of  his  early  life  to  our  repre : 
sentative,  he  retired  to  his  crib. 


JULY  30.  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


107 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    OLYMPIC    TALENT. 

THE   SgUIRE   INSISTS   UPON  HIS   CLAY   BIRDS   BEING   THBOVVN  BY  HAND   IN  THE   HOPE   OF   DISCOVERING   A   BOBN  DISCUS-THBOWEB. 


THE    TEEASUEE-SEEKEES. 

ACCORDING  to  the  New  York  Corre- 
spondent of  The  Daily  Telegraph,  Mr. 
OsrAK  HAMMEKSTEIN'S  talent  for  find- 
ing hidden  musical  treasure  was  recently 
illustrated  by  the. discovery  of  a  useful 
tenor  in  a.  rotund  middle-aged  plasterer 
engaged  on  the  building  of  the  new 
Opera  House.  Luiai  GASPAEINI,  for 
that  was  his  name,  was  dragged  forth 
from  a  pile  of  bricks  to  the  fire-engine 
station  close  by,  where  his  trial  per- 
formances led  to  a  provisional  engage- 
ment for  the  chorus. 

Such  episodes  are  interesting,  but 
they  are  of  quite  common  occurrence  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  "  Never  the 
lotus  closes,  never  the  wild  fowl  wake," 
but  genius  discovers  itself  to  the  eye 
that  is  looking  for  it.  Only  last  week 
Signer  POLACCO,  the  famous  conductor, 
was  passing  by  a  cab  shelter  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Covent  Garden  when 
IKS  heard  the  strains  of  the  Abendstc.ru 
from  Tannhauscr  issuing  from  the 
interior.  Darting  swiftly  into  the 
shelter  Signer  POLACCO  discovered  that 
tlioy  .came  fro.m  the  larynx  of  an  elderly 
attendant  named  Annibale  Sparagrasso, 
employed  to  peel  potatoes  for  the  cab- 
miiu's  midday  meal.  Sparagrasso  was  at 
once  haled  off  to  Covent  Garden,  and  in 
two.  days  had  signed  a  contract  for  five 


years  as  understudy  for  the  chorus  in 
a  travelling  company  which  is  about 
to  start  for  a  prolonged  tour  in  Pata- 
gonia, the  Falkland  Isles  and  possibly 
Alaska. 

A  somewhat  similar  experience  befell 
Madame  PAVLOVA  last  Friday.  While 
she  was  flying  in  a  biplane  over 
St.  Albans,  the  famous  danseuse 
noticed  an  elderly  man  dancing  a  horn- 
j  pipe  in  a  backyard  with  extraordinary 
'  vigour  and  elan.  Peremptorily  ordering 
her  pilot  to  descend,  she  persuaded  the 
dancer,  a  retired  petty  officer  named 
Gregory  Hitch,  to  return  with  ber  in 
the  biplane  to  Hampstead.  After  two 
lessons  he  was  offered,  and  has  accepted, 
an  engagement  to  appear  in  a  nautical 
ballet  as  a  one-legged  admiral  with  the 
Bussian  company  which  is  shortly  pro- 
ceeding to  Siberia.  The  only  condition 
which  caused  any  difficulty  was  that 
which  imposed  a  change  of  name,  but 
his  consent  was  speedily  secured  for  the 
adoption  of  the  ingenious  and  euphoni- 
ous alias  of  Gregor  Hitchikoff. 

Sir  HERBERT  BEERBOHM  TBEE,  while 
spending  a  recent  week-end  in  the  New 
Forest,  was  in  the  happy  position  of 
being  able  to  combine  recreation  with 
benevolence.  He  was  lunching  at 
Lyndhurst,  when,  from  his  private 
banqueting-room,  he  heard  a  venerable 
waiter  named  Ephraim  Jubb  reciting 


passages  from  Hamlet  with  extra- 
ordinary fervour  and  charm.  As  the 
result  of  a  brief  but  affecting  inter- 
view, Jubb  consented  to  accompany 
Sir  HERBERT  in  his  motor  to  town  and 
has  since  been  given  the  rdle  of  hero 
in  a  new  drama,  Bacon's  Boyhood,  by 
Sir  EDWIN  DUBNING-LAWKENCE,  Bart., 
which  will  be  produced  at  a  matinee  at 
His  Majesty'sTheatrewith  Sir  HERBERT 
BEERBOHM  THEE  as  Queen  Elizabeth, 
and  the  author  as  Philip  of  Spain. 
No  wonder  that  Jubb's  grandchildren 
are  now  say.ing  that  he  is  a  made  man. 


Taking  Our  Pleasures  Sadly. 
"ENJOY  YOUR  HOLIDAYS. 

By  reading 
THE  TERROR  BY  NIGHT." 

Advt.  in  "  Daily  Express." 


"  Lady  wanted,  to  undertake  duties  of 
small  house.  Two  in  family,  treated  as  one. 
State  age  and  salary. 

Advt.  in  "Christian  World." 

One  of  the  two  (to  the  other) :  "  After  you 
with  the  egg." 

From  the  ticket  admitting  to  the 
recent  ceremony  in  tjie  Henry  VII. 
Chapel : — 

"  GENTLEMEN — LEVEE  DRESS 
LADIES — MORNING  DRESS 

NOT  TRANSFERABLE." 
Most  certainly  not. 


108 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1919. 


MR.  PUNCH'S   SEASIDE  PAGE. 

WHERE  TO  GO. 

IT  has  been  well  said  by  SHAKSPEAKE 
or  one  of  our  poets  that  we  are  an  island 
race.  At  this  time  of  the  year,  when  so 
many  of  us  are  leaving  the  towns  for 
the  purer  o/one  of  the  country,  the 
words  come  homo  to  us  with  an  added 
significance.  We  are  an  island  race; 
and  for  that  reason  the  thoughts  of 
every  Englishman  worthy  the  name 
will  turn  lirst  to  the  sea. 

But  what  seaside  resort  shall  he 
choose  for  his  holiday?  That  is  the 
difficulty.  Fortunately  the  enterprise 
of  the  Town  Council  of  Congerville  in 
advertising  in  our  columns  enables  us  to 
refer  without  prejudice  to  the  charms 
of  this  growing  watering-place,  and 
thus  perhaps  to  solve  the  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  our  readers.  Congerville— or 
"  The  Venice  of  the  North,"  as  it  has 
been  aptly  called  by  the  Mayor,  owing 
no  doubt  to  the  fact  that  both  towns 
are  on  the  sea — is,  to  our  thinking,  the 
ideal  spot  for  a  holiday.  Within  such 
easy  distance  of  London  that  the  visitor 
who  does  not  like  the  place  can  go  back 
again  on  the  same  afternoon  (in  the 
opinion  of  many  people  its  chiefest 
charm),  Congerville  will  be  found  to  offer 
unique  attractions  to  the  wearied  town- 
dweller  ;  and  we  are  convinced  that  its 
charms  need  only  to  be  sufficiently 
advertised  to  become  known  to  all. 


CON.GEEVILLE. 
"  THE  VENICE  OP  THE  NORTH." 

UNRIVALLED  ATTRACTIONS. 

BAND.  PIER.  NIGGERS. 

OWN  SEA. 

Week  -  End  Ticket,  including  Hotel 
Accommodation  and  Hire  of  Bathing 

Suit,  12/9. 
Come  wlicre  Hie  wlielks  are   larger. 


time  swimming  with  the  mouth  open  is 
a  habit  to  be  condemned,  particularly 
off  those  coasts  where  small  jelly-fish 
(or  Sea  Tapioca)  congregate. 

V.  Even  if  you  cannot  swim,  you 
can  safely  venture  into  deep  water 
with  a  pair  of  Phutman's  well-known 
"  Eykanseeyou's."  Swimming  can,  of 
course,  be  taught  quite  easily  on  land, 
but  the  positions  which  it  is  necessary 
to  assume  are  ungraceful,  and  if 
practised  in  the  dining-hall  of  your 
iiotel  will  probably  cause  comment. 
It  is  better  to  learn  properly  in  the  sea 
with  the  help  of  Phutman's  popular 
invention. 


I 


How  TO  BATHE. 

I.  On  no  account  bathe  immediately 
after  a  heavy  meal.    By  a  heavy  meal  is 
meant  one  weighing  five  pounds  or  so. 

II.  At  most  seaside  resorts  University 
costume  is  insisted  on.     Fortunately  it 
is  not  necessary  to  have  taken  a  degree 
in  order  to  wear  this. 

III.  It  is  bad  form  while  waiting  for 
your  turn  outside  an  occupied  bathing 
machine  to  make  sarcastic  remarks  to 
the  gentleman  dressing  inside.     How- 
ever long  he  has  been,  such  observa- 
tions as  "  Mend  your  braces  afterwards, 
ducky,"  are  not  in  the  best  possible  taste. 

IV.  Although  in  many  places  you  will 
find  notices  strictly  forbidding  you  to 
remove  the  foreshore,  no  objection  will 
be  raised  if  you  should  chance  to  take 
away  some  of  the  sea.     At  the  same 


"  EYKANSEEYOU." 

If  you  arc  an  inexpert  swimmer  wear 

PHUTMAN'S  INFLATABLE  SOCKS. 

THEY  SUPPORT  THE  ANKLES. 

Even  if  your  head  should  chance  to 

be  submerged 

YOUR    FEET 

will  still  bo  visible  from  shore,  and 

the    Coastguards  will    put    out  and 

rescue  you. 

"  EYKANSEEYOU  " 

THE    GREAT    LIFE-SAVER. 

"YOU  CANNOT  SINK!" 

lAdrt. 


FLORA  AND  FAUNA  OF  THE  BEACH. 

A  walk  along  the  beach  at  Conger- 
ville or  any  of  our  Southern  watering- 
places  will  reveal  many  unexpected 
treasures  which  the  keen  collector  can 
add  to  his  bag.  One  of  the  most  com- 
mon, and  yet  least  understood,  objects 
to  be  found  upon  the  sea-shore  is  the 
Single  Boot.  One  would  naturally 
expect  to  find  them  nesting  in  couples, 
but  for  some  unexplained  reason  they 
develop  best  alone, 

A  very  common  weed  growing  round 
our  shores  and  nourishing  particularly 
at  this  time  of  the  year  is  Father.  It 
grows  horizontally ;  is  anything  from 
five  to  six  feet  from  head  to  toe ;  and 
wears  a  paper  over  its  face  to  protect  it 
from  the  sun.  So  numerous  is  it  that 
in  some  parts  of  the  coast  great  care 
has  to  be  taken  not  to  step  on  it.  A 
really  good  specimen  will  sometime 
rise  in  the  centre  to  a  height  of  two  or 
three  feet,  and  thus  afford  ample  shade 
to  the  weary  pedestrian. 

On  such  obvious  fauna  as  crabs  and 
starfishes  it  is  not  necessary  to  dilate  at 
any  length ;  the  most  inexperienced 
traveller  is  sufficiently  familiar  with 
them.  It  may  not,  however,  be  known 
that  by  far  the  best  method  of  catching 
crabs  is  to  tickle  for  them. 

The  process  is  as  follows :  the  object 
of  capture  having  been  marked  down 
in  a  likely  pool,  the  hunter  lies  at  ful 
length  upon  the  rocks  and  begins  to 
tickle  the  crab  gently  on  the  chest.  II 


s  notorious  that  crabs  resent  tickling, 
and  in  a  moment  the  crustacean  will 

'asten  his  pincers  on  your  finger.     The 

augh  however  is  with  you  ;  for,  with- 
drawing your  finger  from  the  pool,  you 

ind  that  you  are  taking  the  crab  with 
you ;  and  with  the  aid  of  a  tin-opener 
you  can  afterwards,  at  your  leisure,  re- 

nove  the  captured  beast  and  transfer 

t  to  your  killing  bottle. 

And  finally,  it  has  just  been  dis- 
covered that  starfish  make  excellent 
and  reliable  compasses.  Balanced  care- 

:ully  upon  the  ferule  of  a  walking-stick 

;he  intrepid  animal  will  invariably  turn 
one  of  its  feet  to  the  north,  the  other  ex- 
tremities marking  the  remaining  points 
of  the  compass  with  equal  accuracy. 


BUMPO, 

THE  POCKET  HAMMER. 
Invaluable  for  Sea-Shore  Naturalists. 
BREAKS  LIMPETS. 

STUNS  ANEMONES. 

CRACKS  SIIKIMPS. 

Take    your    Bumpo   with   you   when 
bathing,   in  case  a  jelly-fish 

attacks  you. 

BUMPO  —  THE  ENEMY  OP 
WHITEBAIT. 

\Ailrl. 


BEACH  ETIQUETTE. 

Etiquette  at  the  seaside  is  naturally 
not  so  formal  as  it  is  in  London,  and 
acquaintances  may  be  made  on  the 
pier  or  in  the  sea  much  more  easily  than 
would  be  the  case  in  Mayfair.  For 
instance,  it  is  permissible  when  bathing 
to  introduce  yourself  to  a  stranger 
swimming  near,  on  what  would  seem 
in  London  the  comparatively  slight 
excuse  that  his  bathing-costume  had 
the  same  coloured  stripes  as  your  own. 
Again,  a  genial  remark  may  always  be 
made  to  an  old  gentleman  fishing  off 
the  end  of  the  pier — an  enquiry,  to  give 
an  example,  as  to  whether  he  had 
caught  anything  or,  failing  that,  hoped 
to  catch  anything. 

Dress  again  is  less  rigid  in  its  cast- 
iron  convention  than  it  would  be  in 
Belgravia,  and  the  ladies  of  your  board- 
ing establishment  will  probably  find  that 
a  dressy  blouse  will  be  all  that  is  required 
in  the  evening.  (The  word  "  all,"  of 
course,  is  used  in  its  comparative  sense 
only.) 

Generally  speaking,  in  short,  life  by 
the  sea  will  be  found  much  more  com- 
panionable than  life  in  London ;  and 
though  seaside  friendships  do  not 
always  turn  out  as  desirable  as  they 
seemed  at  first,  it  may  well  happen 
that  you  may  make  a  life-long  friend  of 
the  man  whom  you  first  made  acquaint- 
ance with  as  you  tapped  the  sea-weed 
barometer  together  in  the  hall  of  your 
boarding-house.  A.  A.  M. 


JULY  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


109 


.       HAPPINESS    IS    ALL   THAT    COUNTS. 

(Gallant  efforts  of  a  determined  family  to  win  the  holiday  prize  offered  by  a  well-known  photographic  firm  on 

tlie  above  lines.) 


ARRIVAL  AT  WINKLEBKACU* 


FUN   ON   THE    SVNDS. 


A  DAY'S  BPOBT. 


A  GOOD  TIME  ON  THE   BMNY. 


AMUSING    DISCOVEBY  OP  THE  TRACES  OF  BURGLARS 
ON   RETURN   HOME. 


110 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


Small  Boy.  " MUMMY,  13  IT  REALLY  TBUE  THAT  THE  DEVIL  HAS  HORNS  AND  A  CLUB  FOOT?" 

The  Mother.  "Ant    MY  DEAB,  SOMETIMES  THE  DEVIL  APPEABS  IN  THE  SHAPE  or  A  VEBY  HANDSOME  AND  CHARMING  YOUNG  MAN." 

Small  Hoy  (pityingly).  "  OH,  JVIUMMY  !    YOU  'BE  THINKING  OP  CUPID." 


THE    M/ENAD. 

THEBE  is  a  maiden  fair  as  dawn 
Who  sometimes  spies  me  from  afar, 
And  chases  me  on  furious  feet 
As  down  the  long  suburhan  street 
I  gambol  like  NIJINSKY'S  "  Faun  " 
To  catch  the  infernal  car. 

At  day-break  when  the  winds  are  fresh, 
Or,  more  exactly,  9.15, 

Not  seldom  shall  you  see  this  sight, 
The  nymph's  pursuit,  the  poet's 

flight, 

As  if  he  funked  the  rosy  mesh 
Of  Cyprus'  dove-drawn  queen. 

It  causes  quite  a  pleasant  stir, 

This  hundred-yard  Olympic  burst ; 
The  newsboy  whispers  to  his  pal, 
"  How  exquisitely  Bacchanal !  " 
The  loafers  lay  short  odds  on  her 
To  reach  the  tube-lift  first. 

So,  ere  the  sordid  years  began, 
Before  aphasia  took  the  Muse, 
Athwart  the  uplands,  thick  with 

pine, 

His  rout  pursued  the  god  of  wine, 
Or  shepherdesses  danced  to  Pan 
(But  not  in  grey  suede  shoes). 


Breathless  we  run ;  without  a  pause 
We  win  the  gates  of  Pluto's  grot ; 
She  gives  me  neither  look  nor  word, 
The  cage  descends,  we  join  the 

herd, 

Our  ways  are  sundered  now,  because 
I  smoke  and  she  does  not. 

But,  though  her  frenzy  seems  to  sink 
Before  she  grabs  her  swain-elect, 
Though  never  in  her  wild,  wild 

arms 

She  lures  me  captive  to  her  charms 
And  bears  me  off  (indeed,  I  think, 
The  lift-mfin  would  object) ; 

Though  unconcernedly  she  sets 
Her  hair  in  trim  and  pulls  a  cube 
Of  chocolate  from  her  leather  bag, 
Sucks   it,  and  opes  her  morning 

rag, 

And  never  for  my  fair  face  frets 
Once  we  have  reached  the  tube  ; 

I  love  to  think  her  hot  despatch, 
The  fury  of  her  Bacchant  speed, 
Is  due  to  love,  and  not  to  this, 
That  well  she  knows  if  she  should 

miss 
The  train  I  usually  catch 

She  must  be  late  indeed.        EVOE. 


THE    BITING   CEITIC. 

[Experiments  with  music  on  animals  have 
revealed  the  fact  that  dogs  will  show  a  pre- 
ference for,  and  a  prejudice  against,  particular 
composers.] 

WITH  BACH  and  BEETHOVEN  we  tried 

him— 

His  tail  wagged  his  wishes  for  more; 
With  WAGNER  and  SULLIVAN  plied  him 

He  barked  for  a  double  encore. 
"  Now  -play  him,"  I  said,  "ere  I  offer 

a  bid, 

A  passage  o£    ragtime."     The  gentle- 
man did. 

As  if  to  say,  "  Golly,  what  is  it  ?  " 
He  pricked  up  his  ears  at  the  strain 

Then  growled  his  intention  to  visit 
On  someone  his  wrath  and  disdain ; 

And  when  off  the  player  he  started  to 
sup 

I  purchased  that  highly  desirable  pup. 

For  under  my  window  thrice  weekly 
Two  picturesque  aliens  play  ; 

Scant  notice  they  pay  me  when  meekly 
Eequested  to  wander  away  ; 

But  next  time  they  come  he  will  alter 
all  that, 

This  capable  critic  who  lies  on  W:e  mat 


PUNCH.  OB  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVARI.^JuLY  30,  1913. 


KISMET. 

TURKEY  (in  Adrianoplc).  "  QUITE    LIKE    OLD    TIMES,    BEING    BACK    HERE." 
DAME  EUBOPA.  "  AH,    BUT    YOU  'LL    BE    KICKED    OUT,    YOU    KNOW." 
TURKEY.  "  WELL,    THAT 'LL    BE    LIKE    OLD    TIMES,    TOO." 


JULY  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


113 


ESSENCE   OF    PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED    I  HOM   TIIK  DlARY  Of  TOBY,  M.P.) 

House  of  Lords,  Monday,  July  21. — 
If  it  were  customary  to  decorate 
Bishops  "  For  Valour "  surely 
Victoria  Cross  would  figure 
on  the  meek  bosom  of  the 
Bishop  of  HKHKKOKD.  Not 
for  the  first  time  in  recent 
years  has  ho  stood  forward 
to  demand  full  consider- 
ation of  a  measure  obnox- 
ious to  majority  of  pears, 
abhorred  by  brother  pre- 
lates. Always  something 
pathetic  about  aspect  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness. 
Additional  discomfort  in 
reflection  that  there  are 
ranged,  at  convenient  strik- 
ing distance,  beasts  of  prey 
ready  to  spring  upon  the 
rasli  if  chivalrous  soloist. 


!  promised  him  that  "his  reception 
would  not  be  at  all  respectful  and  quite 
the  reverse  of  gentle." 


House    delightedly    recognised    the 
episcopal  way  of  indicating  a  bonneting 


the '  and  a  chucking-out. 


A  dexterous  back-thrust  at  the  whole-hogger  by  Lord  SALISBURY. 


House  considering  proposal  for  Sec- 
ond Reading  of  Welsh  Church  Dis- 
establishment Bill.  SALISBURY  moved 
rejection  in  speech  notable  for  dexterous 
back-thrust  administered  to  his  old 
adversary,  the  whole-hogger  on  Tariff 
Reform.  Supporters  of  Bill  pleaded 
that  question  had  been  before  constitu- 
encies at  last  General  Election,  and 
that  in  framing  the  measure  Ministers 
were  obeying  popular  mandate.  "  Not 
at  all,"  said  SALISBURY.  "  If  there  had 
been  no  proposal  for  taxes  on  food 
before  the  electors  in  December,  1910, 
every  candid  honest  Liberal  knows  that 
his  party  would  not  have  won  the  day." 

It  was  towards  close  of  debate  that 
Bishop  of  PlEREFOHD  rose  from  group 
whose  snow-white  rochets  cast  upon 
Benches  below  Gangway  what  HALS- 
BURY,  looking  on,  recognised  as  "  a 
sort  of"  halo.  HEREFORD  did  not  go 
so  far  as  to  support  Second  Reading. 
All  he  asked  was  that,  granted  a  Second 
Reading,  the  Bill  should  go  into  Com- 
mittee with  intent  to  have  its 
blemishes  removed. 

By  striking  coincidence  it 
happened  that  in  the  Commons, 
within  this  very  hour,  TIM 
HEALY  and  WILLIAM  O'BRIEN 
had  been  assaulting  JOHN 
REDMOND  in  connection  with 
BIERELL'S  Bill  designed  to  hurry 
up  Land  Purchase  in  Ireland. 
Their  patriotic  passion  paled  its 
ineffectual  fire  by  comparison 
with  the  energy  with  which  the 
Bishop  of  WINCHESTER  proceeded 
to  demolish  his  right  reverend 
brother.  The  least  ill  he  wished 
him  was  that  he  should  face  one 
of  the  gatherings  of  churchmen 
throughout  the  country  who  met 
to  discuss  the  Welsh  Bill.  He 


Business  done.- — Second  Reading  of 
Welsh  Church  Disestablishment  Bill 
moved  by  BEAUCHAMP  without  wasting 
time  on  a  speech. 


The  Bishop  of  WINCHESTER. 

Thursday. — Sad  case  this  of  Lord 
KENSINGTON.  Been  abroad  three  years 
serving  his  country ;  comes  home ; 
looks  in  at  House  of  Lords;  finds 


Messrs.  HEALY  and  O'BniEJj  attack  Mr.  JOHN  REDMOSD. 


Peers  streaming  into  Division  Lobby 
to  vote  on  Second  Reading  of  Home 
Rule  Bill ;  thinks  he  may  as  well  take 
a  hand  in  the  old  game;  only  when 
coming  out,  finding  himself  tapped  on 
shoulder  by  wand  of  "Teller"  who  was 
counting  the  numbers,  a 
horrible  thought  chills  bis 
marrow.  He  hasn't  taken 
the  oath  in  the  new  Parlia- 
ment. 

Accordingly  has  no  busi- 
ness to  take  part  in  Divi- 
sion. Rather  fancies  that 
Tower  Hill,  if  not  actually 
the  block,  plays  a  part  in 
consequences.  What 's  to 
bo  done  ? 

Happily  recalls  lesson 
gleaned  from  earlier  episode 
in  Marconi  Muddlement. 
Agreed  on  all  sides  that,  had 
Ministers  at  outset  volun- 
teered full  statement  of 
their  private  dealings  in  the  matter,  the 
cloud  would  have  blown  over.  Profit- 
ing by  this  experience  KENSINGTON 
yesterday,  as  soon  as  LORD  CHANCELLOR 
took  his  seat  on  Woolsack,  rose  and 
with  proper  penitentiary  air  made 
clean  breast  of  what  CHEWE  playfully 
called  "  his  crime." 

To-day  the  Leaders  of  House  and 
Opposition,  having  been  in  consultation 
overnight,  delivered  judgment.  CHEWB, 
admitting  absence  of  deliberately  evil 
intention,  suggested,  amid  murmur  of 
applause,  that  it  would  "  probably  be 
the  desire  of  the  House  not  to  proceed 
further  in  the  matter."  LANBDOWNE 
agreed, "  if  only,"  as  he  shrewdly  put  it, 
"for  the  reason  that  practically  co 
other  course  is  open  to  us." 

Which  shows  that,  after  all,  logic  has 
some  influence  upon  Parliamentary 
decisions. 

What  may  be  described  by  way  of 
distinction  as  the  Singular  Voter  being 
thus  disposed  of,  House  turned  to  con- 
sider case  of  Plural  Voter  whom 
Government  propose  to  abolish. 
Bill  having  that  object  in  view 
negatived  by  166  votes  against 
42. 

Business  done. — Commons  dis- 
cussing vote  for  Board  of  Agri- 
culture. The  PRESIDENT,  a 
modest  North-country  man, 
overwhelmed  with  congratula- 
tions from  both  sides  on  his 
successful  administration  of  his 
office.  Amongst  results  of  the 
year  has  been  extirpation  of 
Foot  and  Mouth  Disease  in 
England  and  Ireland,  a  task 
requiring  tireless  energy  and 
much  courage  in  facing  protests 
of  individuals  and  districts  tem- 
porarily affected. 


114 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30.  1913. 


House  of  Commons,  Friday. — A  busy 
week.  Seen  introduction  of  new  Irish 
Land  Bill,  Lords  meanwhile  throwing 
out  Welsh  Church  Bill  and  one  de- 
priving Plural  Voter  of  his  ancient 
privilege.  Important  questions,  these. 
But  at  close  of  week  topic  to  the  fore  is 
the  revolutionary  procedure  in  Scotch 
Grand  Committee.  Engaged  just  now 
in  considering  delicate  question  of 
mental  deficiency  north  of  the  Tweed. 
Natural  impulse  on  part  of  some 
Members  to  place  case  on  footing  with 
famous  Chapter  On  Snakes  In  Iceland. 
"  There  are  none."  Others,  whilst  not 
disputing  soundness  of  this  view,  think 
it  just  as  well  to  look  through  the 
measure  remitted  to  them  by  the 
House. 

Whilst  thus  engaged  enter  CHARLES 
PRICE,  Radical  Member  for  East  Edin- 
burgh, with  fragrant  cigar   be- 
tween his  teeth. 

Members  move  uneasily  in 
their  seats.  Is  this  a  case  of 
mental  deficiency,  or  merely  ab- 
sence of  mind  in  temporary 
form  ?  CHAIRMAN'S  attention 
called  to  matter.  He  admits 
that  on  two  former  occasions 
Chairmen  of  Grand  Committees 
have  ruled  the  cigar  out  of  order. 
Taking  a  middle  course  he  would 
ignore  the  indiscretion  unless 
anyone  declared  objection. 

So  far  from  taking  that  line, 
Members  with  one  accord  pro- 
duced their  cigarette  cases  and 
[it  up. 

With  the  bonds   of  Empire 
about  to   be   severed,   with   an 
ancient  Church  tumbling  about 
our  ears,  with  the  Plural  Voter  doomed, 
revolutionary  procedure  has  under  the 
jresent    Government   become   a  daily 
labit   to  which   the   mind    insensibly 
grows  accustomed.     But,  really,  auth- 
>rised  smoking  in   Committee  Rooms 
;omes  as  a  shock.  If  upstairs  why  not 
lownstairs  ?     If  cigars,  why  not  short 
lay  pipes  ?     If  smoke,  why  not  drink  ? 
For  latter  luxury  there  is  historical 
Drecedent.     When  CECIL  RHODES  was 
mder  examination  by  the  Royal  Com- 
mission appointed  to  inquire  into  the 
ark  places  whence  the  Jamieson  Raid 
emerged,   he   was  accustomed,   at  ap- 
proach of  his  usual  luncheon  hour,  to 
ssnd  out  for  a  dish-load  of  ham  sand- 
wiches  and   a    tankard  of   stout.     Of 
these   he  proceeded  to  make  leisurely 
disposition  under  the  eyes  of   hungry 
Commissioners. 

The  MEMBER  FOR  SARK  is  reminded 
how,  whenever  he,  HARCOURT,  LABBY 
and  others  put  a  peculiarly  ticklish 
question,  RHODES  took  an  excep- 
tionally large  bite  from  the  sandwich 
in  hand  at  the  moment.  There  neces- 


sarily  followed  interval  for  masticating   got  together  at  Frasorborough  to  vrai 
the  food  preliminary  to  regained  articu-  j  upon  the  FIRST  LOUD  OF  THE  ADMIRALTY 


lation,  a  pause  that,  incidentally,  gave 
opportunity  for  framing  suitable  answer. 
If  CECIL  RHODES  thus  publicly 
lunched  during  process  of  critical 
inquiry  why  should  Members  of  Select 
Committees  be  debarred  from  similar 
privilege?  A  simple  luncheon,  with 


and  discuss  with  him  the  prospects  o 
adopting  the  use  of  cod-liver  oil  in  the 
Navy,  will  reach  London  on  the  firs 
Friday  in  September.  Names  are 
coming  in  very  well,  and  it  is  con- 
fidently expected  that  special  railwa} 
rates  will  be  quoted.  Curiously  enou«' 

•»  IT  -r-r-r  .-j  .  .  ."   .  O 


a  tankard  or  long  tumbler   according   Mr.  WINSTON  CHUBCHILL  will  be  pay- 


to  individual  taste,  a  cigar  or  pipe  to 
follow,  would  do  much  to  popularise 
the  daily  meeting  upstairs. 

Business  done. — Treasury  Vote  dealt 
with  in  Committees  of  Supply. 


SCOTLAND'S   NEW  SPORT. 

,  THE  Scottish  bailies,  town  councillors 
and  others  who  recently  came  up  to 
town  in  the  form  of  a  deputation  to 


constituents    in 


ing    a    visit    to    his 
Dundee  over  that  week-end. 

The  Deputation  of  Wee  Free  Elden 
from  InverstrathbittDck-on-Spey  (to 
call  upon  the  SECRETARY  FOB  'SCOT- 
LAND upon  business  that  has  not  yet 
been  divulged),  and  that  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  island  of  Tiree  (to  wait 
upon  Mr.  JOHN  BURNS  in  connection 
with  their  new  town-planning  scheme), 
have  apparently  arranged  to  co-opsrate 


not  dlwnstafrs* 


in  order  to  secure  a  reserved 
saloon  by  the  East  Coast  route. 
It  is  announced  that  they  cor- 
dially homologate  each  other's 
opinions. 

A  curious  position  has  arisen 
in  Paisley,  where  a  large  and 
influential  Deputation  has  been 
made  up,  which  is  expected  to 
leave  for  the  South  in  October. 
Every  detail  is  settled  with  the 
exception  of  the  object  of  the 
visit  and  members  are  complain- 
ing that  it  is  well-nigh  impossible 
for  them  to  complete  the  pre- 
paration of  their  speeches  until 
this  point  has  be3n  decided. 

The  Autumn  Announcements 

of  the   North  British  Railway 
upstairs  in  Comm.ttee-room.  why    Company  will|  we  learn(  conta;£ 

an  entirely  new  feature  which 


interview  the  PREMIER  on  the  question 
of  Woman's  Suffrage  have  returned  to 
the  North  very  well  pleased,  it  would 
seem,  with  their  week-end  in  the  Metro- 
polis. The  fact  that  Mr.  ASQUITH,  after 
having  three  times  definitely  refused  to 
see  them,  was  absent  from  his  residence 
when  they  called  cannot  be  said  to 
have  militated  in  any  way  against  the 
success  of  the  visit,  which  has  been  so 
great  that  it  is  generally  understood 
that  the  Scottish  Deputation  Season 
has  now  begun. 

The  Deputation  from  the  parish 
councils  of  Strathbogie  and  district, 
which  will  leave  for  London  towards 
the  end  of  August  to  lay  before  the 
CHANCELLOR  OP  THE  EXCHEQUER  its 
views  upon  the  introduction  of  a  mini- 
mum wage  for  agricultural  labourers, 
doss  not  seem  to  have  been  discouraged 
by  the  information  that  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE  will  be  on  the  Continent  at 
the  date  of  its  arrival.  An  extended 
week-end  ticket  has  been  arranged  for. 
^  The  Deputation  representing  the 
Fishing  Industry,  which  is  now  being 


is  bound  to  prove  popular.  It  is  pro- 
posed to  issue  "Deputation  Tickets"  on 
certain  dates  in  the  course  of  the  winter, 
which — provided  that  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  applications  is  received — will 
carry  with  them  the  best  of  saloon 
accommodation  at  a  reduced  rate. 

The  members  of  the  original  Woman's 
Suffrage  Party,  who  must  be  regarded 
as  the  pioneers  of  the  movement,  have 
been  so  much  delighted  with  their  first 
experience  that  they  are  now  arranging 
to  take  this  Deputation  on  tour. 

Meanwhile,  the  enterprising  London 
photographer  is  quite  awake  to  the 
new  possibilities  that  have  been  opened 
up.  (We  do  not,  of  course,  mean  the 
Press  photographer ;  he  has  done  very 
well  out  of  it,  but,  as  far  as  he  is  con- 
cerned, the  boom  is  over.)  One  leading 
firm  in  Regent  Street  has  already  dis- 
patched a  traveller  to  the  North,  offer- 
ing special  terms  for  groups  to  be  taken 
by  appointment  upon  the  door-steps  of 
Cabinet  Ministers.  As  the  vacation  is 
approaching  in  Downing  Street,  it  is  ex- 
pected that  no  inconvenience  will  ensue. 


JULY  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


115 


PREVENTION  BETTER  THAN  CURE. 

"  HULLO,  BETTY,  WHAT  ON  EABTH  ABE  YOU  AKD  PERCY  DENUDING  THE  PLACE  FOB?    DIDN'T  KNOW  YOU  WEBB  MOVING." 
"\VE'BE  NOT;    BUT  THE  DARLING  BOYS  COME  HOME  PBOM  SCHOOL  THIS  WEEK." 


THE    DESERTER 
WHO  REFUSES  FOB  THE  12TH. 
How  now,  you  faithless  absentee, 

Now  that  the  magic  Hour  draws  near, 
You  urge  an  unexpected  plea 
Of  duller  claims  that  interfere ! 

I  thought  no  mortal  since  the  Fall 
Gifted  with  strength  of  will  to  raise 

Ramparts  of  conscience  at  the  call 
Of  grouse  and  grilse  and  holidays. 

Review  it  all — the  rush  from  town, 
The  station  platform  stretching  far, 

The  crowds,  the  hurrying  up  and  down 
In  quest  of  the  Fort  William  car ; 

And  that  first  moment  of  delight 
When  the  long  8.15  swings  forth, 

To  thunder  through  the  August  night 
And  meet  the  daybreak  in  the  North  ; 

Until — how  great  the  prospect  seems! — 
The   faithful   George   shall   stand 
revealed, 

And  mingle  in  your  restless  dreams 
With  early  tea  at  Whistlefield. 

Ten  minutes  more  of  tea  and  train 
And  hasty  donning  of  attire, 

And  then — and  then  your  feet  attain 
The  wayside  goal  of  your  desire. 


I  picture  you  the  morning  grey, 

With  glint  of  sunshine  now  and  then, 

And  wonderful  with  scents  that  stray 
From  the  wet  larchwoods  in  the  glen. 

What  next  ?  a  sleepy  search  fulfilled, 
And  baggage  bundled  out  in  tons, 

A  waiting  motor  slowly  filled 
With  rods  and  cartridges  and  guns. 

High  on  the  pass  the  breeze  is  coo!, 

And  local  memories  return 
Of  salmon  in  the  Clachan  pool, 

And  grouse  above  the  Laraig  burn. 

So  be  it :  stoutly  you  resist ; 

But  wait  until  the  Hour  arrives, 
The  Hour  of  mountain,  moor  and  mist, 

And  see  if  your  resolve  survives. 

ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 

NATURE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  king 
who  failed  to  please  his  subjects  and 
was  by  consequence  in  instant  peril. 
Hurriedly  collecting  together  such  trea- 
sures as  they  could,  he  and  his  young 
queen  crossed  the  frontier  one  night 
with  a  few  faithful  retainers  and 
settled  in  an  old  secluded  castle  in  a 
friendly  country. 


On  the  first  wet  day  the  young  queen 
was  missing.  High  and  low  the  re- 
tainers searched  for  her,  and  at  last 
she  was  discovered  in  the  middle  of 
an  open  space  in  the  forest,  holding  up 
her  face  to  the  rain. 

Horror-struck,  they  hurried  to  her 
aid  ;  but  she  waved  them  back. 

"  Do  let  me  stay  a  little  longer,"  she 
pleaded.  "  All  my  life  I  have  longed  to 
feel  the  rain  and  I  was  never  allowed 
to.  All  my  life  there  have  been  coaches 
and  umbrellas." 

And  again  the  queen  held  up  her 
face  to  the  drops. 

"Dancing    Taught.  —  Step,    Buck,    Clog, 
Schottische,  Wooden  Shoe,  Kagtime,  Fancy. 
Three  lessons  2/6.     Stamp  or  call.     12  till  9. 
Advt.  in  "  Eitcore." 

We  hardly  ever  stamp,  even  when 
we  've  come  for  a  dance  lesson ;  and 
anyhow  we  don't  keep  on  stamping 
from  12  to  9.  We  just  knock  or  ring, 
and,  if  nobody  answers,  we  go  away 
after  the  first  hour  or  two. 


"Looking  from  the  rostrum  one  saw  rows 
and  rows  of  happy,  smiling  faces  alternating 
with  rows  of  huge  white  glistening  mugs." 
Manctester  Guardian. 
Why  this  distinction  ? 


116 


PUNCH,   OR   THK   LONJ)ON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


from  it,  and  withdrew  from  the  room 
with  the  other  revolver.     In  the  heavy 
rough-and-tumble  which  ensued  when 
opera  '  the  lamp  had  heen  knocked  over,  the 

instead"of  an  American  melodrama,  it!  adoptive    father    does    the   villain    to 

death.     Before  going  out  to  expire  he 


IF    it 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  THK  BARRIER." 
had    heen    an   Italian 


must  have  heen  called  "  La  Faneiulla 
del  North-West."  But  the  resemblance 
between  the  First  Acts  of  Mr.HuBBABD'a 
play  and  Signor  PUCCINI'S  music-drama 
was  inevitable,  since  the  Drink-and- 
General-Utility  Store  is  the  centre  of 


;ivcs  his  case  away 


in  the  -course  of 


a  brief,  but  luminous,  dialogue.  The 
impression  left  upon  me  by  this  hurried 
exchange  of  conversation  was  to  the 
following  effect : — 

Real  Father.  You  shot  my  wife! 

Foster-Father.  Liar.   Yon  shot  her  ! 

Heal  Father.  Liar.  She  shot  herself 
by  accident ! 


social  life  in  these  pioneer  com- 
munities. The  title  of  Mr.  EEX 
BEACH'S  novel  refers  to  the  invidious 
bar  of  birth  which  threatens  to  keep 

two  lovers  apart.  The  Girl  of  thej  Another  Alaskan  novelty  was  pre- 
Golden  N.W.  is  supposed  to  be  a  half-jsented  in  the  casual  procedure  at, 
breed.  No  one  who  cast  even  a  cursory  the  meeting  held  for  the  promotion  of 
glance  at  the  charming  face  of  Necia  the  No-Creek  Mining  Company  on  the 
(Miss  MAY  BLAYNEY)  would  have  site  of  the  claims — a  wild  scene  in  "  The 
suspected  her  for  a  moment  of  being  Divide  of  Black  Beer  Creek."  The 
anything  short  of  a  whole-breed.  As  villain  had  been  careful  not  to  peg  out 
a  matter  of  fact  her 
parentage  was  white  on 
both  sides,  though,  in  the 
case  of  her  father,  it  was 
not  the  whiteness  of  driven 
snow,  for  his  heart  was  as 
black  as  ink.  All  comes 
well  in  the  end,  though  I 
should  have  liked  to  see 
her  marry  the  picturesque 
trapper  who  never  worried 
about  her  birth,  rather 
than  the  U.S.A.  Lieu- 
tenant who  took  some 
time  to  get  over  it. 

It  is,  I  believe,  con- 
trary to  etiquette  on  the 
stage  to  keep  a  secret  from 

the  audience.     Yet  it  was  T 

..,!        -i.il      •      J.L      Lieutenant  Burrell 
not  till  quite  late  m  the  Dan  stark  (in  the  cnair) 

proceedings  that   we  got 

at  the  facts  of  the  death  of  the  girl's 


THE   HERO  WINS 


HANDS  DOWN. 

Mr.  MALCOLM  CHEERY. 
Mr.  HABCOUBT  BEATTY. 


mother ;  and  for  a  dark  hour  or  so  we 
were  allowed  to  harbour  suspicion 
about  the  career  of  her  innocent  foster- 
father.  He  himself  did  not  help 
matters  much  by  attempting  a  murder 
before  our  eyes.  Fortunately  he  missed 
by  six  inches  and  eventually  left  the 
boards  without  a  stain  on  his  character. 

The  facts  came  out  in  the  course  of 
the  best  scuffle  of  the  evening.  The 
situation  was  unusual  and  could  only 
have  been  possible  in  a  tentative  state 
of  society  where  Justice  is  compelled 
from  time  to  time  to  lift  her  bandage 
and  wink  openly  by  the  light  of  nature. 

A  deadly  feud  divided  the  girl's  two 
fathers — the  real  and  the  adoptive. 
Each  had  a  sorry  record,  true  or  false, 
and  the  representative  of  law  and  order, 
in  the  person  of  Lieutenant  Burrell, 
U.S.A.  Cavalry,  thought  it  most  con- 
venient to  let  them  light  it  out  for 
themselves  with  one  revolver  between 
them.  So  he  deposited  it  on  the  table, 
posted  the  adversaries  at  equal  distances 


a  claim  of  his  own,  because  he  pro- 
posed to  usurp  that  of  the  girl  on  the 
alleged  ground  of  its  illegality,  and 
nobody  was  allowed  to  hold  more 
than  one.  You  would  have  thought 
that,  having  meanwhile  no  part  in  the 
property,  he  had  no  locus  sedendi  at  the 
meeting.  Nevertheless,  he  went  so  far 
as  to  take  the  chair  and  conduct  the 
business  with  a  fine  air  of  autocracy. 
However,  it  is  not  for  our  sophisticated 
intelligences  to  attempt  to  cope  with 
these  savage  anomalies;  and,  anyhow, 
the  matter  was  settled  by  arrangement, 
the  Lieutenant  (as  usual)  suddenly  cover- 
ing the  opposition  with  his  revolver, 
and  making  them  hold  up  their  hands. 
Indeed  the  villain  passed  a  good  deal  of 
his  time  in  this  position,  rather  ludi- 
crous when  prolonged.  But  why,  on 
the  present  occasion,  when  he  had  a 
revolver  in  one  of  his  raised  hands,  he 
didn't  let  it  off  in  the  face  of  his  enemy 
two  feet  away,  I  am  unable  to  conjec- 
ture. He  was  not  troubled  with 
scruples ;  nor  had  he  previously  shown 


himself  punctilious  about  shooting  only 
from  the  hip. 

But,  if  there  were  things  beyond  my 
Cisatlantic  understanding,  I  under- 
stood enough  to  see  that,  for  what  it 
pretended  to  bo,  the  play  was  something 
more  than  passable.  You  will  have 
gathered  that  it  was  not  lacking  in 
incident ;  and,  though  there  wore 
longueurs  in  the  love-making,  which 
did  not  suit  our  hero,  the  Lieutenant, 
nearly  so  well  as  the  revolver  business, 
the  interest  was  strong  to  the  last. 
And,  apart  from  the  behaviour  of  one  of 
the  minor  characters,  the  performance 
of  Mr.  HUBBABD'H  melodrama  bore  ex- 
ceptionally few  traces  of  the  Surrey- 
side  tradition. 

Miss  MAY  BLAYNEY  was  a  piquante 
heroine  ;  Mr.  MALCOLM  CHERRY  a 
workmanlike  hero ;  Mr.  ROCK  (the 
foster-father)  as  sound  as  his  name ; 
and  Mr.  MATHESON  LANG, 
the  French-Canadian  trap- 
per, extremely  picturesque. 
His  broken  English,  with 
a  touch  in  it — so  I  thought 
—of  the  negro  quality, 
was  very  effective ;  and  as 
extra-hero,  of  the  sacrificial 
kind,  he  won  great  favour 
with  the  audience.  Of  the 
rest  Mr.  HUBERT  WILLIS, 
in  the  part  of  No-Creek 
Lee,  was  very  good. 

Altogether,  a  clean  piece 
of  work,  full  of  movement, 
and  far  better  worth  seeing 
than  a  great  deal  of  more 
pretentious  stuff;  and  if 
only  our  holiday  invaders 
are  well  advised  I  don't 
see  what 's  to  stop  the  run 
of  it  this  side  of  October.  0.  S. 


"The  Sovereign  was  standing  under  his 
banner  and  the  Great  Master  under  his,  both 
of  them  now  depending  from  the  west  wall 
instead  of,  as  formerly,  from  the  corner,  slant- 
wise, above  the  Knights'  banners  and  there- 
fore hidden  by  them." — Tlie  Times. 

We  had  no  idea  that  the  proceedings 
were  as  lively  as  this. 


"  Wilkie  Bard  tells  a  story  of  a  husband 
and  wife  who  .were  always  quarrelling.  A 
friend  called  one  evening  and  found  them  in 
the  middle  of  a  row.  After  the  storm  had 
subsided  a  little  he  ventured  to  remonstrate 
with  the  husband." 

Bradford  Daily  Telegraph. 

And  that  is  all ;  but  probably  Mr. 
BARD  makes  it  seem  funnier. 


"There  were  only  15  scratchings  recorded 
for  the  seven  faces  on  Saturday." 

Brisbane  Daily  M  ill. 

This  reminds  us  that  the  midge  season 
is  upon  us  again. 


JULY  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


117 


THE    "MONKEY    SEAT." 


Daughter.  "SAY,  POPPA,  \VHAT  CUTE  LITTLE  THINGS  THEY  ABE!" 

Poppa.    "AND  COST   SOME  I       TAKES  FIVE   OB  SIX  THOUSAND  DOLLABS  TO   HIRE    A   GOOD  ONE   BY  THE   SEASON,    I  GUESS." 

Daughter.  "WOULDN'T  IT  BE  CHEAPEB  TO  BUY  ONE  AND  KEEP  IT  YOURSELF?" 


A  FORECAST  OF  THE  BRITISH  ASS. 

(With  some  slight  assistance  from  "  The 

Westminster  Gazette.") 
THE  subject  of  the  Presidential  ad- 
dress, always  canvassed  with  eager  in- 
terest in  scientific  and  lay  circles  alike, 
has  of  course  bean  long  ago  definitely 
determined  in  its  main  outlines.  Sir 
OLIVER  LODGE  intends  to  take  a  survey 
of  the  position  of  science  generally. 
Happily  this  scheme  is  sufficiently 
elastic  to  allow  of  his  dealing  with  a 
number  of  topics  which  the  academic 
scientist  would  probably  regard  as  taboo. 
Amongst  these,  we  understand,  are  the 
Psychics  of  Golf,  with  especial  reference 
to  the  question  whether  it  is  legitimate 
to  hypnotise  your  opponent ;  Recent 
Cranial  Modifications  in  the  Midlands 
pointing  to  the  ultimate  triumph  of  a 
Type  distinguished  for  its  high  dome- 
shaped  Forehead ;  Interviews  as  an 
engine  for  promoting  University  Exten- 
sion ;  the  Poetry  of  the  Aztecs ;  the 
Influence  of  Brown  Boots  on  Telepathy, 
and  other  cognate  subjects.  Thus 
handled,  the  subject  of  his  address  is 
obviously  of  sufficient  breadth  to  afford 
a  thinker  of  Sir  OLIVER'S  notorious 


versatility  and  range  of  outlook  on  life 
and  its  problems  effective  scope  for  an 
oration  as  stimulating  and  exhilarating 
as  any  delivered  from  the  Presidential 
Chair. 

This  engaging  and  unconventional 
quality  will  also  be  found  illustrated  in 
the  programme  of  the  various  sections. 
Of  course  the  essentially  scientific 
element  predominates,  but  a  certain 
latitude  is  allowed  in  the  choice  of 
subjects  which  is  eminently  calculated 
to  command  the  interest  of  even  the 
non-scientific  mind. 

Thus  in  the  section  dealing  with 
Economics  and  Statistics  there  will  be  a 
remarkable  debate  on  the  cost  of  living. 
Sir  HENRY  HOWORTH  will  handle  the 
question  of  Prehistoric  Working-men's 
Budgets,  Lord  COURTNEY  OF  PENWITH 
will  discuss  the  Finance  of  League 
Football  Clubs,  and  Sir  W.  ROBERT- 
SON NICOLL  will  read  a  paper  on  the 
Kentish  Coal  Fields  and  their  influence 
on  Nonconformist  Journalism. 

In  the  Transport  section  such 
authorities  as  Mr.  ROGER  FRY,  Mr. 
LAURENCE  BINYON,  Mr.  MAURICE  HEW- 
LETT and  Mr.  EDMUND  GOSSE  will 
take  part  in  a  discussion  on  "  Canals 


and  their  effect  on  the  language  of 
those  who  use  them,"  at  which  a 
number  of  bargees  are  expected  to  be 
present.  In  the  Anthropological  section 
Sir  ALFRED  MONO  will  deal  in  his  Pre- 
sidential Address  with  the  Misuse  of 
Prehistoric  Oil-wells  for  bathing  by  the 
Troglodytes  of  the  Caucasus,  and  Mr. 
JOHN  MASEFIELD  will  read  a  paper  on 
the  Etiquette  of  Cannibalism.  The 
Physiologists  will  have  before  them 
such  subjects  as  "  The  Cause  of  chronic 
Hiccups  among  Caddies,"  a  "  Study 
of  Oysters  in  Times  of  War,"  and  a 
"  Theory  of  the  Behaviour  of  Guinea- 
pigs." 

In  the  Education  section  a  variety  of 
intensely  interesting  subjects  are  down 
for  discussion.  Amongst  these  we  may 
note  "Champagne  and  Cigarettes  in 
the  Holidays,"  "  Should  Preparatory 
Schoolmasters  be  on  the  Telephone?" 
"A  Plea  for  Administering  Corporal 
Punishment  to  Parents,"  and  "  Ought 
Lef  t-handedBatting  to  be  Encouraged  ?" 

In  short,  the  programme,  whether 
we  consider  its  latitude  or  its  longi- 
tude, bids  fair  to  be  as  nutritive  as 
any  included  in  the  records  of  British 
Asininity. 


118 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


THE    GARDEN    PARTY. 

••  FBANCESCA,"  I  said,  "  I  am  intoxicated  by  the  beauty  of 
this  day.  Let  us  do  something  dashing." 

••  What  particular  dash  do  you  feel  like  ?  "  said  Francesca 

"  I  think  I  've  got  the  pic-nic  feeling,"  I  said.  es,  1 
feel  like  a  pic-nic." 

••  What  a  pity  you  didn't  feel  like  that  yesterday  when 
we  ail  wanted  you  to  come." 

-  No  matter,"  I  said,  "  I  feel  like  it  to-day.  I  will  carry 
the  table-cloth." 

"  We  shan't  want  a  table-cloth." 

"Is  that  wise,  Francesca?  A  table-cloth  gives  an  air 
of  aristocratic  ease  to  the  humblest  feast.  You  shake  your 
head?  Very  well,  then,  no  table-cloth.  But  I  will  watch 
you  cutting  the  bread-and-butter  and  making  the  tea.  The 
children  shall  carry  the  cake  and  the  jam.  I  will  choose 
a  spot  for  the  feast.  We  will  go  there  in  a  boat,  and,  if  you 
like,  you  shall  do  the  sculling  while  I  steer  and  the  children 
all  let  their  hands  trail  in  the  water.  Yes,  Francesca,  I  feel 
more  like  a  pic-nic  every  minute." 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  that,"  she  said. 

"  Sorry,  Francesca !  Why  are  you  sorry  ?  When  I  refuse 
in  consequence  of  overwhelming  work — 

"  Overwhelming  sofa-cushions,"  said  Francesca. 

"  I  repeat :  when  I  refuse,  owing  to  the  pressure  on  my 
time,  to  join  a  pic-nic  you  are— I  will  not  say  angry,  for 
you  are  never  angry,  are  you,  dear  ? — but  you  are  certainly 
displeased.  And  now,  when  I  propose  a  pic-nic,  and  when 
I  expect  you  to  dance  for  joy,  you  say  you  are  sorry. 
Varium  et  mutabile  semper." 

"It  is  useless,"  she  said,  "to  fling  a  stupid  old  Latin 
insult  at  me." 

"  Let  me,"  I  said,  "  call  the  children  and  tell  them  about 
the  pie-nic.  They,  at  least,  will  be  delighted." 

"  That,  too,  would  be  useless." 

"  But  why,  Francesca  ?  "  I  said.  "  I  'm  quite  determined 
to  have  a  pic-nic." 

"And  that,"  she  said,  "is  more  useless  than  any  thing  else." 

"  I  knew  it  would  be,"  I  said.  "  I  have  only  to  express 
a  wish " 

"  And  it  is  always  gratified.     But  not  to-day." 

"  And  pray,  why  ?  " 

"  Because  of  the  Garden  Party." 

"  The  Garden  what  ?  "  I  said  frantically. 

"  The  Garden  Party,"  she  repeated  calmly. 

"  Gracious  Heavens !  "  I  said.  "  You  don't  mean  to  tell 
me  you  are  going  to  a  Garden  Party  ?  " 

"  I  do.  I  am.  And  what  is  more,  you  are  coming  with 
me." 

"  We  will  see  about  that,"  I  said  gloomily.  "  But  first 
let  me  tell  you  that  Garden  Parties  don't  exist.  They  are 
Victorian.  They  are  like  Penny  Headings  and  Literary 
Institutes  and — er — umbrella  covers.  Yes,  they  are  exactly 
like  umbrella  covers.  Don't  you  remember  umbrella  covers, 
Francesca  ?  Some  were  of  plain  silk,  others  were  very  black 
and  beautiful  and  glistened  wonderfully.  Everybody  had 
them  and  nobody  used  them.  We  took  them  off  and  threw 
them  away  and  forgot  them.  Francesca,  there  must  be 
millions  of  unused  umbrella  covers  in  England.  Let  us 
start  a  company  for  the  recovery  of  umbrella  covers,  but, 
as  we  value  our  peace  of  mind,  do  not  let  us  go  to  a  Garden 
Party." 

"  But,"  said  Francesca,  "  it 's  such  a  beautiful  day." 

"  It  isn't  really,  you  know,"  I  urged.  "  It 's  only 
pretending.  There 's  quite  a  nasty  little  cloud  over  there, 
and  it 's  growing.  You  mark  my  words,  it  11  rain  in 
buckets  in  another  hour  or  so ;  and  how  will  your  Garden 
Party  get  on  then  ?  There,  I  felt  a  drop  on  my  nose." 


"  But  that  '11  stop  the  pic-nic,  too,  won't  it  ?  " 
"How  foolish  of  you,  Francesca!     It  never  troubles  to 
rain  on  a  quiet  family  pic-nic,  but  a  great  showy  Garden 
Party  brings  out  all  nature's  worst  qualities." 
"  Well,  I  can't  help  it.     You  've  got  to  come." 
"  No,  uo,"  I  said  warmly,  "  you  mustn't  take  me.    I  don't 
know  how  to  dress  for  a  Garden  Party.     When  you  see  me 
in  a  black  frock  coat  and  brown  boots  and  a  straw  hat  you 
will  be  ashamed  of   me  and   you   will   wish   you   hadn't 
brought  me ;  but  it  will  then  be  too  late.     It  will  get  into 
the  local  paper.     The  Daily  Mail  will  have  a  paragraph 
about  it : — '  Strange  conduct  of  an  alleged  gentleman  at  a 
Garden  Party.'     You  mustn't  take  me,  Francesca." 
"  But  how  can  I  help  it  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  help  it !  There  are  a  thousand  ways. 
You  can  leave  me ;  you  can  forget  me ;  you  can  suddenly 
begin  to  dislike  me ;  you  can  go  alone ;  you  can  lock  me 
into  the  library :  you  can  fail  to  find  mo  when  the  moment 
comes ;  you  can — 

"You  needn't  go  on,"  she  said.     "It 's  not  a  bit  of  good." 

"Indomitable  and  relentless  woman,"  I  said,  "  tell  me  at 

least  where  this  Garden  Party  is  to  be,  and  who  is  giving  it." 

She  laughed.    "  You  're  giving  it,"  she  said.     "  It 's  going 

to  he  here.    Hurry  up  and  get  into  your  frock  coat.    They'll 

all  be  arriving  directly."  R.  C.  L. 


THE    GLAD    GOOD-BYE. 

[According  to  the  New  York  correspondent  of  The  Daily  Telegraph, 
recent  practical  tests  prove  that  the  substitution  of  ragtime  melodies 
for  the  lugubrious  farewell  music  usually  played  011  a  big  liner's 
departure  does  away  with  the  mournful  scenes  attending  such 
functions  and  puts  everybody  in  the  best  of  spirits.] 

WHEN  I  broke  the  news  to  Mabel  that  a  most  insistent  cable 
Had  demanded  my  departure  to  a  land  across  the  sea, 

She  occasioned  some  dissension  by  announcing  her  intention 
Of  delaying  her  farewell  until  the  vessel  left  the  quay. 

I  displayed  a  frigid  shoulder  to  her  scheme,  and  frankly  told 

her 
That  no  public  show  of  sentiment  my  tender  heart  should 

sear, 
For  I  knew  the  tears  would  blind  me  when  "The  Girl  I  Left 

Behind  Me" 

And  the  strains  of  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  "  reverberated  in 
my  ear. 

But  I  've  recently  relented  and  quite  willingly  consented 
To  be  sped  upon  my  journey  by  the  mistress  of  my  soul; 

I  shall  banish  sorrow's  canker  ere  the  sailors  weigh  the 

anchor, 
And  present  a  smiling  visage  when  the  ship  begins  to  roll. 

There  '11  be  no  one  feeling  chippy  when  the  band  plays 

"  Mississippi " 

(Such  a  melody  would  even  lend  a  fillip  to  a  wreck) ; 
I  shall  laugh   and  warble   freely  when  they  start  "The 

Robert  E.  Lee," 

And  my  cup  will  be  complete  when  "  Snooky-Ookums" 
sweeps  the  deck. 

Tears  of  joy  there  '11  be  for  shedding  when  "  The  Darkie's 

Ragtime  Wedding  " 
Sends  a  syncopated  spasm  through  the  passengers  and 

crew; 
And,  when  warning  tocsins  clang  go,  down  the  gangway 

Mab  will  tango, 

While   I  bunny  -  hug   the   steward   to   the   tune  of 
"  Hitchy-Koo." 


JULY  30,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


119 


NEAR    THING. 


Disappointed  Trundlcr.  "NEARLY  'AD  'E,  JABGE." 


Disappointed  Batsman.  "An,  AN'  NEARLY  'IT  'E!" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
Graccchurch  (LONGMANS)  is  one  of  those  books  that  to 
some  readers  may  perhaps  seem  lacking  in  "sustained 
interest,"  but  to  others,  of  whom  I  myself  am  certainly  one, 
will  have  all  the  charm  of  true  and  remembered  childhood. 
It  is  the  record  of  his  own  childhood's  surroundings  that 
Mr.  JOHN  AYSCOUGH  tells  in  these  short  and  simple  annals 
of  a  mid-Victorian  country  town.  Exactly  how  far  things 
happened  just  so,  and  how  far  the  art  of  the  grown-up 
novelist  has  improved  upon  the  memory  of  the  small  boy, 
it  is  not  for  me  to  say.  Perhaps  even  Mr.  AYSCOUGH 
himself  is  not  altogether  sure  on  this  point — at  least,  so  I 
gathered  from  his  entirely  charming  dedication,  which,  as 
a  model  of  such  things,  should  not  be  passed  unread. 

Of  the  sketches  or  studies  or  stories  (it  is  a  little  difficult 
to  find  the  right  word  for  them)  that  the  book  introduces, 
I  liked  best  the  group  that  centres  in  the  Thorn  family. 
Especially  do  I  recall  the  grim  little  picture  that  ends  the 
first  of  these,  called  "  Sal  Fish,"  which  tells  how  Fernando 
Thorn  ruined  the  hopes  of  his  sister  Kezia  (who  doted  on 
him,  and  expected  the  handsome  lad  to  marry  a  friend  of 
her  own)  by  wedding  a  girl  who  cried  fish  in  the  streets  of 
Gracechurch.  The  sudden  shock  destroyed  Kezia' s  mental 
balance ;  and  we  see  her  later,  as  the  boy  AYSCOUGH  saw 
her,  a  middle-aged,  over-dressed  woman,  "  as  mad  as  a 
March  hare,"  sailing  in  to  call  on  the  triumphant  sister-in- 
law,  "  who  presently  would  turn  to  look  at  her,  without 
interrupting  her  knitting,  but  with  a  full  turn  of  her  body 
in  her  chair,  as  she  would  say,  'Fidgety  to-day  !  Full  moon, 


maybe."     And  Kezia  would  collapse."     Without  doubt  the 
little  AYSCOUGH  had  an  eye  for  the  dramatic. 

Collision  (DUCKWORTH)  is  Miss  BRIDGET  MACLAGAN'S 
second  novel,  and  I  wish  that  it  had  more  of  the  simple 
directness  of  her  first.  I  am  really  confused  as  to  what 
happened  between  Gopi  Chand,  Maggie,  Mr.  Trotter  and  all 
her  other  queer  people  who  explored  India  together.  Miss 
MACLAGAN  is  very  clever;  she  knows  how  to  give  you  a 
character's  physical  peculiarities  with  a  mere  twist  of  the 
pen  ;  but  this  makes  the  clouded  confusion  of  the  incidents 
all  the  more  to  be  regretted.  I  have,  for  instance,  a  very 
clear  idea  of  that  powerful  little  monster,  Mr.  Benjamin 
Trotter,  and  I  feel  that  he  should  do  most  interesting  things. 
It  is  possible  that  he  does ;  but  the  author  knows  more 
about  that  than  I  do.  In  Maggie,  again,  I  hoped  that  here 
at  last  oue  would  enjoy  a  human  and  glowing  portrait  of  a 
Suffragette,  someone  who  was  both  real  and  interesting. 
But  no,  the  incidents  in  which  she  shared  are  veiled  and 
hidden. 

It  is,  I  believe, "  atmosphere "  that  has  made  Miss  MAC- 
LAGAN  so  elusive.  Atmosphere  at  any  price  always  leads 
to  confusion  in  an  Indian  novel,  because  it  is  so  strong  and 
highly  coloured  that  it  swallows  up  the  characters  in  those 
clouds  of  yellow  dust  of  which  we  hear  so  much.  In  her 
next  book,  when  one  of  her  characters  inquires,  "What 's  the 
matter?"  (they  do  so  continually  in  Collision),  she  must 
answer  the  question  so  that  the  reader  can  comfortably 
settle  down  in  his  chair  and  know  where  he  is.  Miss 
MACLAGAN  is  too  clever  a  writer  for  hide-and-seek  to  be 
worth  her  while. 


.PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  30,  1913. 


if    Mr.    BROCK    had    not 


Jf<ipp>/-Go-LiicJ:y  (BLACKWOOD)  is  well-named,  for  Mr. 
IAN  II  AY  has  never  drawn  a  more  irresponsible,  irrepressible 
hero  than  The  Freak.  1  had  indeed  begun  to  endure  this 
youth  very  gladly,  when  (opposite  page  106)  I  saw  an 
illustration  of  him  by  Mr.  C.  E.  BUOCK,  and  my  feelings 
received  a  rude  buffet.  Until  that  moment  it  had  not 
occurred  to  me  that  The  Freak  could  also  be  a  nut,  and  the 
difference  between  Mr.  BROCK'S  conception  of  him  and 
mine  disturbed  me  not  a  littlo.  Once  over  that  difficulty, 
however,  I  derived  much  amusement  from  a  book  which  is 
full  of  high  spirits  and  high  jinks.  Mr.  HAY  rnusb  have 
been  in  a  holiday  mood  when  he  wrote  Happy -Go-Lu-cky, 
and  seaside  librarians  will  be  tired  of  its  name  before  the 
summer  is  ended.  The  characters — save  The  Freak  him- 
self and  Mr.  Welwyn — are  conventional  enough,  and  so  is 
the  theme  of  a  rich  and  only  son  falling  in  love  with  a 
dressmaker ;  but  the  treatment  is  Mr.  HAY'S,  which  is  as 
much  as  to  .say  that  it  is  slightly  sentimental  and  very- 
diverting.  I  must  add  that, 

challenged    my    idea   off 

The    Freak,     I    should' 
have  given   undiluted 
praise  to  his  illustrations. 

With  that  jolly  assur- 
ance which  the  modern 
publisher  affects,  Messrs. 
CONSTABLE   have    an- 
nounced in  divers  places 
that    V.    V.'s    Eyes,    by 
HENRY  SYDNOR   HARBI- 
SON, is  an  advance  upon  | 
his     quite     admirable 
Qmed.    Well,  I  wonder ! 
It    is    widely  different,1 
anyway,  oddly  different. 
Not   so  arresting   or  so  j 
touched  with  that  bizarre '. 
delightful  humour.  More ' 
possible,  surely,  and  more ' 
real,  and  certainly  exhi- 
biting the  same  patient 
skill     in     developing 
character  through   inci- 
dents   selected   and   ar- 
ranged with  seeming  art- 


Guard  (addressing  passengers).  "  THIS  PLACE  SEEMS  TO  HAVE  GONE.    WHAT 

DO  YOU  ALL  SAY  IF  WE   SHUNT   BACK  AND  IKY  LITTLE  SPLASHINGTON  ?      IT  WAS 
STILL  THESE   WHEN  WE  PASSED." 

[Some  parts  of  the  East  Coast  have  been  rapidly  disappearing.] 


V.  V.  in  fact  is  a  character  which  any  writer  might  be  proud 
to  father ;  and  to  have  carefully  cut  out  the  sentimentality 
which  might  have  spoiled  it  is  a  considerable  feat  of  re- 
ticence. Perhaps,  after  all,  the  publishers  were  justified. 

The  Garden  of  Ignorance  (JENKINS)  has  this  quality  to 
distinguish  it  from  most  other  books  on  the  same  topic, 
that  it  really  does  deal  with  the  gardening  troubles  of  an 
ignoramus,  and  trace  his  gi'adual  progress  (or,  in  this  case, 
hers)  to  tire  rewards  of  knowledge.  Mrs.  GEORGE  CUAN 
is  the  gardener  ;  and,  whether  or  not  her  story  is  wholly 
a  true  one,  and  she  did  or  did  not  in  fact  bring  to  her 
garden  so  entire  a  lack  of  experience  in  the  first  place,  she 
certainly  tells  the  tale  of  her  education  and  ultimate 
triumphs  in  a  way  that  is  both  entertaining  and  helpful. 
I  liked  especially  the  passage  in  which  she  relates  how, 
from  the  chance  phrase,  of  a  guest,  "  What  a  paradise  this 
will  be  after  you  've  worked  at  it  two  or  three  years," 
there  was  born  in  her  mind  the  idea  that  l:  a  garden  was 

a  canvas  on  which  to 
paint  a  picture  in  flowers 
and  trees  and  winding 
paths."  There  is  no 
question  that  Mrs.  GRAN 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the 
process  ;  and  the  results 
achieved  appear — judg- 
ing them  by  a  number 
of  excellent  photographs 
scattered  throughout  the 
volume — to  have  more 
than  repaid  her  efforts. 
Thousands  of  garden- 
lovers  will  rejoict  in  this 
homely  and  practical 
book,  which  is  further 
enriched  by  a  useful 
appendix  on  the  various 
flowers  mentioned  in  its 
course,  with  hints  upon 
their  treatment.  I  have 
already  praised  the 
photographs  ;  to  one  of 
them,  however,  the  front- 
ispiece (showing  a  sun- 
bath),  I  must  take 


lessness.    V.  V.  is  a  slum  doctor,  who  forgets  to  send  in  his  (exception.     Here   the   Pagan   effect   apparently   aimed  at 
accounts;  lame  and  a  helper  oflameness  in  others;  a  believer  seems — in  contrast   to   the   costume   of    the  subject— not 


in  folk,  a  cheery  despiserof  money,  with  eyes  that  are  extra- 
ordinarily (if  unconsciously)  appealing,  questioning,  restrain- 
ing, compelling.  Gaily  Heth,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  a  lesser 
business  magnate— someone  called  thelleths  "improbable" 
people—is  intent  on  a  successful  marriage,  with  all  the 
insincerity  and  heartlessness  that  go  to  make  for  victory  in 
that  ruthless  quest.  V.  V.'s  path  crosses  hers,  menacingly 
as  she  thinks  at  first  (for  V.  V.  has  attacked  the  conditions 
of  labour  at  the  Heth  cheroot  works),  and  he  sows  in  her  the 
seeds  of  a  divine  discontent  which  bear  fruit  in  a  changed 
outlook,  so  that  her  big  fish,  Hugo  Canning,  a  sort  of  Trans- 
atlantic Sir  Willoughby  Pattern*,  is  put  back  amazed  into 
the  troubled  pool.  I  don't  know  if  I  quite  believed  in 
V.  V.'s  eyes — after  all,  the  reader  doesn't  see  them — but 
I  can  answer  for  his  charm  and  courage  and  the  inspiriting 
quality  of  his  fine  philosophy  of  life.  "There  are  useful 
people  .  .  .  and  useless  people ;  good  people  and  bad  people. 
But  when  we  speak  of  poor  people  and  rich  people  we  only 
make  divisions  where  our  Maker  never  saw  any,  and  raise 
barriers  on  the  common  which  must  some  day  come  down." 
Of  course  this  can  be  challenged,  but  it  is  a  piece  of  thinking. 


wholly  to  have  come  oft;  and  the  only  result  is  one  of 
futile  impropriety  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  a  delightful 
volume. 


Gleanings  from  History. 

From  an  examination  paper : — - 

"Domesday  Book  was  published  by  Edward  III.  After  it  wa.-. 
published  about  four  times  it  was  called  the  Common  Prayer  Book." 

"  In  1666  there  was  a  very  great  fire  in  London,  which  was  caused 
by  Suffragest." 


"  'There  was  a  case  of  mental  deficiency  which  was  hopeless  up^. 
to  eight  years  of  age,  and  now  the  man  occupies  a  post  in  the  Civil 
Service,'  said  Mr.  Watt,  M.P.,  yesterday  at  the  Select  Committee 
on  the  Mental  Deficiency  (Scotland)  Bill."— The  Daily  Mail. 
What  was  there,  we   wonder,  about  this  particular  case 
which  called  for  notice? 


M.  CHALIAPIN,  the  Eussian  singer  who  has  been  having 
such  a  success  at  Drury  Lane,  has  told  an  interviewer  that 
his  father  was  a  peasant.  This  explains  his  talent.  He 
comes  of  moujikal  stock. 


AUGUST  6.  1913.]                PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAFJ.                                  121 

CHARIVARIA. 

IT  is  difficult  to  ascertain  the  exact 
truth  in  regard  to  the  alleged  outrages 
in    the    Balkans,   but   it   is    certainly 

A  Gorman  gentleman  who  was  trans- 
lating an  English  novel  into  his  native 
language  was  puzzled  for  a  time  as  to 
how  to  render  "  billycock  hat."      He 
decided  ultimately  in  favour  of  "  Wil- 

in  the  first  degree"  and  "Murder  in 

the  second  degree." 
*  * 

• 

At  Ebbw  Vale   a   thousand   colliers 
went  on  strike  owing  to  a  dispute  with 

commit  more  atrocities  than  the 
Christian  Crusader  if  the  face  of  the 
latter  is  to  be  saved. 

'  * 

The  Light  Side  of  the  Suffragist  Move- 
ment. "  Hannah  Booth  was  arrested 
his!  night  for  smashing  two  windows  at 


I,  Smith  Square,  Westminster,  in  the 
belief  that  it  was  the  residence  of  Mr. 
McIvKNNA,  who  lives  next  door." 


It  is  said  that  as  a 
recent  stampede  at 
Aldershot  of  the  horses 
of  the  Queen's  Bays,  the 
War  Office  is  pointing 
out  to  the  Territorial 
Cavalry  how  dangerous 
it  is  to  have  mounts. 

Wo  hear  that  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Eoyal 
Visit  to  Aldwych  the 
loud  cheering  and  cries 
of "  Coo-ee  "  caused  the 
greatest  alarm  among 
the  wild  life  in  the 
neighbouring  Forest  of 
Aldwych,  and  repre- 
sentations are  to  be 
made  by  the  Society  for 
the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals  to 
those  responsible  for 
the  arrangements. 

*     :|: 

Colonel  CROMPTON, 
Engineer  to  the  Eoad 
Board,  considers  that 
pedestrians  need  speed- 
ing up,  and  there  is  a  good  deal  in  what 
he  says,  especially  as  to  tha  average 
Englishman  thinking  that  he  has  a 
right  to  do  exactly  what  he  likes  on  the 
road.  We  have  actually  seen  workmen 
on  more  than  one  occasion  coolly  dig 
themselves  a  hole  in  a  busy  thoroughfare 
and  then  pic-nic  there. 

The  Daily  Mail,  the  other  day, 
published  a  photograph  of  Sergeant 
OMMUNDSEN'S  eyes.  This  is  a  new 
departure,  and  soon,  no  doubt,  we  shall 
have  pictures  of  the  tongue  of  a  great 
speaker,  the  ears  of  a  distinguished 
musical  critic,  and  the  nose  of  a  prom- 
inent sanitary  inspector. 
*  * 

•j, 

In  the  opinion  of  Sir  JAMES  LINTON, 

the  well-known  painter,  the  bowler  hat 

5  artistic.     It   now   remains  for  the 

Cubists  to  point  out  that  the  high  hat 

is  high  art. 


VOL.    CXL7. 


But 


"NOVELTY   OF   THE   WKKK. 

THE   UUN-ABOUT   BUFFKT." 

Daily  Mail. 
a   well-known   toper   informs   us 


that  this  is  no  novelty.     He  has  fre- 
quently seen  buffets  in  motion. 


"  Alcohol  will    be  the  fuel  of    the 
future,    and    the   sooner  we   start    to 
utilise   it   the   better,"  says   Professor 
result   of   the   LEWES.     In  order  to  avoid  disappoint- 


Sergeatit.  "WHAT   THE 

YOUIl  BIDING   BUSINESS?" 

Territorial  Trooper.  "PLEASE, 
SQUADRON'S  HORSE  YET!" 


OUR  HORSELESS  RIDERS. 

-I    War  THE  ABES'T 


Sin,    "DoLpHua    AIN'T   FINISHED   WITH   OUB 


ment  in  drinking  circles,  we  think 
it  well  to  point  out  that  the  Professor 
was  referring  to  motors  and  not  to 
human  machines. 

*  * 

To  a  weekly  causcric  which  he  is 
contributing  to  a  contemporary  Mr. 
ARNOLD  WHITE  gives  the  title,  "  Look- 
ing Bound."  It  is  astonishing  that 
this  title  should  never  have  been  used 
by  Mr.  G.  K.  CHESTERTON,  for  very  few 

people  look  as  round  as  he. 
*  * 

It  is  good  to  know  that  the  wearing 
of  the  slit  skirt  will  never  become  uni- 
versal. A  lady  who  had  a  wooden  leg 
was  heard  to  say  the  other  day  that 
nothing  would  induce  her  to  assume 
this  disgusting  garb. 

"  Prisons,"  says  Prince  KBOPOTKIN, 
"  are  the  universities  of  crime."  Hence, 
we  suppose,  the  expressions,  "  Murder 


a 

funeral.  It  does  seem  too  bad  to  inter- 
fere with  the  simple  pleasures  of  these 
poor  miners. 

* 

"  Why  is  it  that  there  are  so  many 
bald  men  and  so  few  bald  women  ?  " 
asked  Dr.  BABENDT  at  the  British 
Medical  Conference.  The  answer,  we 
suppose,  is  because  women  consider 
baldness  does  not  suit  them. 
*  * 

A  catch  of  herrings  valued  at  £30  was 
destroyed  last  week  at 
Ardglass,  Co.  Down, 
because  the  inhabitants 
thought  they  had  been 
caught  on  Sunday.  It 
is  not  generally  known 
how  much  the  fish 
enjoy  their  Sundays  off. 
It  is  said  that,  to  show 
their  gratitude  for  the 
Sabbath  respite,  in- 
creasing numbers  get 
caught  on  Mondays. 

?,<-       *^!i: 

A  hoopoe,  a  bird  with 
a  crown  of  feathers, 
rarely  seen  in  Great 
Britain,  flew  in  at  the 
open  window  of  the 
Manor  House,  Heston, 
Middlesex,  one  day  last 
week,  and  was  captured 
by  Mr.  P.  H.  BKOWNE, 
who  set  it  free  after 
examination.  We  are 
afraid  that  Mr.  BROWNE 
is  not  a  genuine 
sportsman  or  he  would 
surely  have  shot  his  visitor. 

*..  * 

According  to  The  Express,  many 
English  ladies  are  taking  to  a  new 
Parisian  method  of  keeping  the  figure 
slim  and  the  limbs  supple.  A  news- 
paper is  torn  up  and  the  pieces  are 
scattered  on  the  grass,  and  the  devotee, 
clad  in  a  Japanese  kimono,  crawls 
along  and  picks  them  up  one  by  ona. 
If  there  were  anything  in  the  theory 
one  would  expect  to  find  our  profes- 
sional street  scavengers  an  exceptionally 
slim  and  supple  race.  But  then,  of 
course,  they  don't  wear  kimonos ;  not, 
at  any  rate,  in  the  open. 


YOU     ATTENDING     TO 


*    * 


Another  paper  informs  us  that  many 
fashionable  women  are  now  suspending 
their  beltlesu  skirts  by  means  of  braces. 
Frankly,  we  grow  nervous.  This  looks 
remarkably  like  the  first  step  towards 
appropriating  our  trousers. 


122 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


19]  3. 


THE    HOMBURG    CURE. 

As  one  that  has  high  work  to  do— 
To  win  a  rowing  pot  or  two, 
To  box  till  all  is  black  and  blue, 

Or  run  a  league  against  the  ticker- 
Will  wean  his  llesh,  by  force  of  mind, 
From  pleasures  of  a  carnal  kind 
Likely  to  spoil  his  second  wind, 

As  pastry,  jam  and  liquor; — 

Or  as  a  man  about  to  sail 
Beyond  the  missionary's  pale, 
Where  insalubrious  airs  prevail 

That  turn  the  health  and  temper  rocky, 
Will  take  some  prophylactic  pains 
To  cope  with  tropic  heats  and  rains 
By  introducing  in  his  veins 

A  stream  of  streptococci ; — 

Not  otherwise,  my  James,  you  go 
Where  Homburg's  healing  waters  flow, 
And  doctors  keep  your  diet  low       ; 

With  .regimens  of  awful  rigour; 
Bravely  resigned  to  kiss  the  scourge 
Laid  on  your 'grosser  self,  and  purge 
.   Your  inward  parts,  and  so  emerge 
\  A  masterpiece  of  vigour. 

Deadly  the  strain  that  you  "11  endure 
Of  what  is  loosely  termed  a  "  cure  " — 
That  process  which  renews  the  pure 

'And  perfect  type  of  lissome  beauty ; 
Yet  what,  a  purpose!— to  repair 
The  tummy's  annual  wear  and  tear 
And  fit  yourself  once  more  to  dare 
.The.  coming  season's  duty. 

A  noble  sacrifice,  I  say, 
And  must,  for  one,  admire  the  way 
We  English  spend  our  holiday 
;    Practising  deeds  of  self-denial ; 
.    I  recognise  the  "patriot's-  part 
t^' And  cry  from  out  an  envious  heart, 

.''Fair  vyipds  attend"  yrju  as  you  start' 
...     'To  face  this  searching  trial !" 

And,  when- in  Town  you  take  your  meed, 
I'll  mark  the  vie  de..luxe  you  lead, 
Performing  miracles  of  greed 

With  scarce  a  single  pause  for  panting, 
And  think  of  how  your  strength  was  won 
Where  Homburg's  .loathed  waters  run, 
And  say,  "  Such  feats  are  never  done 
.     .     Except  by  prayer  and  banting."  O.  S. 


PERILS    OF   THE    DEEP. 

I  HAVE  made  my  will  and  arranged  that  Aunt  Mary  shall 
become  guardian  of  my  white  mouse  "  Robert  "  in  the  event 
of  my  not  returning,  for  I  am  embarking  on  a  hazardous 
voyage.  There  are  so  many  dangers  which  may  prevent 
my  return.  I  have  worked  it  out  and  find  that  my  chance 
is  about  1'563  in  a  thousand  of  ever  seeing  home  and 
friends  again. 

The  Company  has  very  kindly  sent  me  a  list  of  the  chances 
to  be  faced  ;  and  I  am  determined  to  fare  boldly  forth  to  meet 
them  all.  The  Company  does  not  hold  itself  responsible  for 


loss  of,  or  injury  to,  passengers  from  any  of  the  following! 
causes  (1  quote  from  the  conditions  under  which  I  sail) : — 

"  The  Act  of  God,  the  King's  enemies,  pirates,  restraint  of : 
Princes  .  .  .  barratry,  collision  .  .  .  damage  by  vermin 
.  .  .  perils  of  the  seas  and  rivers  .  .  .  defective  stowage 
.  .  .  smell,  insufficient  ventilation  .  .  .  neglect  of  tiie 
Company's  officers,  deluge  and  deviation." 

These  are  but  a  part  of  the  many  nicely-varied  ways  in 
which  1  may  end  my  short,  but  so  far  pleasant,  life. 

You,  out  of  the  kindness  of  your  heart,  will  say,  "Bold' 
adventurer.  This  is  the  stuff  oif  which  heroes  are  made.  Is 
it  an  air-ship  venture,  or  docs  he  voyage  to  Pernambuco 
or  Singapore?" 

Nay,  friend,  my  ticket  is  taken  to  Dublin  by  one  of  the; 
lesser  known  routes.     Where   I    shall  arrive   is  evidently 
quite  another  question  (see  "Deviation").     Very  possibly 
our  gallant  skipper,  glancing  at  my  ticket,  will  say,  "  No, 
no,  my  lad,  not  Dublin.     This  voyage  my  health  requires! 
a  week-end  in  Japan."     Or  the  steward  will  have  a  brol  In  r 
prospecting  in  Peru,  and  we  shall  simply  deviate  to  see  how ; 
the  world  goes  with  him. 

At  any  rate,  you  will  agree  that  it  is  at  best  a  hazardous; 
adventuie,  though,  judging  by  the  first  danger  on  the  list,! 
I  gather  that  my  captain  is  a  man  of  religion. 

"Pirates,"  of  course,  in  these  days  one  is  always  prepared 
for.     But  "Princes"?     I  always  have  said  that  a  Prince 
is   a   nasty   risky   sort    of    thing    to    meet    at    any    time.! 
"Barratry"  I  pass  because  I  don't  know  what  it  means; 
but  how  well  it  would  sound  on  a  tombstone ! 

Glancing    on    a    little,  we   come  to    the    dread   words, 
"damage   by    vermin."       Cockroaches,   it   seems,    may   be: 
encountered.     Very  possibly  passengers  are  carried  simply; 
to  feed  the  brutes,  and  thus  leave  the  captain  and  crew  free ; 
to  discharge  their  duties  unmolested. 

"Dangers  of  seas  and  rivers"?  I  wonder  if  .last  voyage 
the  captain  took  her  up  to  Henley  and  Avas  run'  down  by 
a  canoe. 

"Defective  stoicage."      It  looks  as  if  my  sleeping-com- 
partment might  be  congested.     I  may  find  myself  with  the 
live-stock  (is  it  towards  Ireland  or  away  that  pigs  mostly  i 
travel?),  or  with  the   frozen    mutton    which  comes  from  j 
New    Zealand.      The    latter  .association   might  be    very 
tolerable   in   sultry  weather.      The  idea  of  a  little  frozen 
leg  of  mutton  lying  in  a  corner  of  my  cabin,  clad  chastely  j 
in  white  muslin,  has  often  appealed  to  me-.- 

"Neglect  of  the  Company's  officers."     Evidently  I  must1 
not  count  on  my  evening  game  of  chess  with  the  Bosun. ! 
It   will   be   a   hard  life   indesd   if  no  one   is  told  off  to 
amuse  me. 

And  "Deluge."  This  is  annoying.  Surely  steamers 
should  tow  an  Ark  on  every  voyage.  Though  in  these 
degenerate  days  wo  have  no  navigators  to  compare  with 
the  devoted  and  adventurous  NOAH,  the  sight  of  a  comfort- 
able, roomy  Ark  bobbing  on  the  waves  astern  would  give 
timid  travellers  a  feeling  of  great  security. 

Altogether,  the  prospect  is  Very  sinister.  •  Yet- 1  am  an 
Englishman.  I  come  of  a  race  of  heroic  and  fearless  tars. 
With  this  thought  to  uphold  me  I  take  my  life  in  my 
hand  and  fare  forth  to  encounter  the  perils  of  the  Anglo- 
Irish  passage. 

A  Song  of  Ninepence. 

Sing  a  song  of  Ninepence,  such  a  little  sum, 
Yet  it  means  a  whole  day's  outing  from  the  slum ; 
Send  it,  then  (and  kind  hearts  should  be  gladly  dunned) 
To  23,  St.  Bride  Street,  Fresh  Air  Fund.* 

*  Since  its  establishment,  twenty-one  years  ago,  the  Fresh  Air 
Fund  has  given  a  day's  holiday  to  over  3,000,000  poor  children,  and  a 
fortnight's  holiday,  where  the  need  was  greater,  to  21,000. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  C,   1913. 


KLEPTOROUMANIA ; 

OR,    THE    PINCH    OF    CHIVALRY. 

ROUMANIA.  "SIRS,    I    WILL    NOT    STAND    IDLY    BY    AND    SEE    THIS    HELPLESS    GENTLE- 
MAN   EXTINGUISHED." 


AUGUST  6,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


125 


STAMPING    OUT    REVOLT    IN    UPPER    TOOTING. 

Mother  (to  daughter  with  yearnings  for  the  higlier  life).  "  USE  WHAT  AEGUMKNTS  YOB  LIKE,  CHILD  ;  NO  IAKGO-TEAS  SHALL  BB 

GIVEN   IK   THIS  UBAWING-ROOM." 


THE    WITS. 

IF  you  want  to  know  how  to  get  a 
good  joke  out  of  every  one  I  can  tell 
you.  I  ought  to  add  that  it  is  the  same 
joke,  but  since  each  probably  thinks  it 
original  all  is  well. 

I  discovered  it  in  this  way.  The 
week-end  well  ran  dry  and  water 
had  to  be  imported.  Neighbours  being 
rather  distant,  and  milk  coming  in  every 
morning  by  cart,  I  approached  the 
farmer  who  supplies  the  milk  and  asked 
him  to  let  us  have  water  as  well ;  and 
he  said  that  if  he  could  find  a  suitable 
receptacle  he  would. 

The  next  morning  the  water  arrived 
right  enough,  but  (in  the  interests  of 
the  gaiety  of  the  nation,  as  you  will 
see)  in  a  can  precisely  similar  to  those 
which  hold  milk  and  are  tumbled  about 
on  railway  platforms. 

The  can  stood  j  ust  outside  the  door  and 
we  dipped  into  it  as  water  was  needed. 

So  much  for  the  premises.  Now  for 
the  joke. 

Our  first  visitor  had  a  good  look  at 
the  can  and  then  asked  if  I  had  become 
a  dairy-farmer. 


I  explained  the  situation. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  it  'a  the  first  time 
I  've  ever  known  the  water  get  into  an 
independent  tin." 

The  next  visitor  also  pulled  up  at  the 
can  and  became  inquisitive. 

"  Oh,  it 's  all  right,"  I  said.  "  It 's 
only  water.  You  see,  we  have  to  get  it 
in  owing  to  the  well  having  gone 
dry." 

He  looked  enormously  droll  and  sly 
as  he  replied,  "  How  refreshing  to  see 
it  for  once  in  a  can  all  to  itself  1 " 

The  next  visitor  was  a  lady,  who  put 
the  case  rather  differently,  but  with- 
out loss  of  point. . 

"  Delightful,"  she  said.  "  Do  you 
know  it 's  the  first  time  in  all  my 
experience  as  a  housekeeper  that  the 
two  fluids  have  not  been  together?" 

All  our  friends  were  so  immensely 
pleased  with  their  efforts,  and  laughed 
so  heartily,  that  I  thought  it  was  time 
I  got  a  little  credit  for  myself,  especially 
as  the  burden  of  tipping  Aquarius  fell 
on  me. 

So  before  the  next  visitor  could  score 
I  said,  "  Do  you  see  that  milk  -  can 
there?  What  do  you  think  is  in  it  ?  " 


"  Milk,"  was  his  instant  answer. 

"  No,"  I  said ;  "  water." 

"  Ah  1 "  he  replied,  before  I  could  get 
on.  "Tell  me  where  you  buy  your 
separator.  It 's  the  one  thing  we  've 
always  wanted." 

The  final  joke  was  made  yesterday.  A 
professional  humorist  turned  up,  and  he 
too  inquired  the  meaning  of  the  can. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  on  hearing  it, "  that 's 
the  most  candid  milkman  I  ever  heard 
of." 

Next  week-end  the  can  will  be  again 
filled,  and  the  beaux  esprits  will  again 
leap  like  trdutlets  in  a  pool. 

But  what  a  commentary,  not  only 
on  the  similarity  of  all  our  minds,  but 
on  the  nation's  milkmen  1 


A  Bridge  of  Sighs. 

1 '  Salonika,  Thursday. — The  Greeks  continue 
the  pursuit  of  the  flying  Bulgarians,  the 
enemy  burning  the  villages  and  destroying  the 
bridges  to  delay  the  Greek  advance.  Two  in- 
cendiaries were  caught  in  Flagranto  Delicto 
and  punished." — Inverness  Courier. 

Only  a  vandal  would  have  destroyed 
the  famous  bridge  at  Flagrante  Delicto, 
immortalised  by  BYRON. 


126 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  6,  1913. 


further   that   they   can  be  bought  for 

A  MISCARRIAGE  OF  HUMOUR.  |  four-and-sixpence  and five-and-sixpence 

naturally 


This 


DEAK  SIR, — As  a  constant  and  careful  i  each, 
student  of  your  humorous  weekly,  might   mystify  him, 
I  ask  your  authoritative  opinion  upon  j  that  you  ar< 


statement   will 
and  cause  him 


to  believe 


your 

a   matter   which    is    presenting   great 
difficulties  to  myself  ? 

From  my  infancy  up  I  have  been 
known  as  a  keen  humorist,  and  among 
my  comrades  have  the  reputation  of 


are  in  league  with  coiners. 
When  you  have  sufficiently  mystified 
him  you  can  explain  that  the  word 
"  and "  has  the  same 


meaning 


"  plus,"  or  the  mathematical  sign 
and  that  the  half-sovereign  was  made 

111  «         i    \  i  i  i  i  i  iwvaww       «*w.v«---* £- ««-•  -i  11  I     t_       f 

being  an  incorrigible  joker.     My  Aunt  at   the   Mint,   and  can  be  bought  for 
Matilda,  whose  opinion  may  be  a  little  '  four-and-sixpence  and  (orpins)  five-and- 

ten  shillings,  the  actual 
•sovereign.  It  is  quite  a 
good  and,  when  explained,  simple  joke. 
When  I  heard  it  I  laughed  heartily  ; 
begged  my  friend  to  repeat  it  to  me, 
and,  after  I  had  rehearsed  it  several 
times,  told  it  to  other  friends.  Perhaps 
it  may  be  due  to  the  differences 


undue 


prejudiced,  continually  urges  me  to  go  sixpence,  i.e.,  I 
on  the  Comic  stage,  and  assures  me  that ;  value  of  a  half- 
I  should  make  my  fortune  there.     For 
myself,  I  prefer  to  keep  my  genius  for 
my  own  privileged  circle,  and  I  only 
cite  Aunt-.  Matilda's  opinion  to  show 
you  what  my  reputation  is  in  the  eyes 
of  those  who  know  me  best. 

I  think  I  may  say  without 
conceit  that  I  have  always 
been  in  the  vanguard  of  the 
funny  ones.  I  have  an  ex- 
cellent book  of  Conundrums, 
to  which  I  know  all  the 
answers  ivilhout  referring  to 
tJie  book.  I  was  among  the 
first  to  ask  such  riddles  as 
"Why  was  Charing  Cross? 
Because  the  Strand  ran  into 
it,"  and  have  quite  a  good 
collection  of  such  tricks  as 
"  The  Eed  Hot  Coal,"  "  The 
Matches  one  Can't  Light," 
"  The  Poached  Egg  on  the 
Floor,"  and  others  of  that 
type.  (In  passing,  I  should  | 
lika  to  ask  you  where  the 
"  Funny  Dog  Bite,"  recently 


in 
temperament  in  different  people,  but  I 


advertised  in  your  excellent 
journal,  can  be  obtained.  I 
have  tried  many  places,  but  have  been 
unable  to  procure  this  humorous  device.) 
Hitherto  I  have  always  found  my 
sallies  taken  in  the  merry  spirit  in 
which  they  were  offered.  I  now,  how- 
ever, discover  that  there  are  exceptions. 
Perhaps  it  is  that  the  joke  itself  is  too 
subtle,  and  can  only  be  told  with  success 
to  educated  people.  I  myself  found  it 
amusing  and  entertaining,  and  laughed 
heartily  when  it  was  told  me  by  a  friend. 
Though  it  is  difficult  to  tell  a  joke 
without  the  necessary  accompaniment 
of  gesture  and  facial  expression  I  venture 
to  tell  it  to  you,  believing  that,  as  a 
trained  humorist,  you  will  probably 
appreciate  its  finesse. 

It  is  necessary  to  commence  by 
showing  to  your  listener  an  ordinary 
half-sovereign,  and  asking  him  if  he  sees 
anything  wrong  with  it,  in  such  manner 
as  to  insinuate  that  there  is.  After 
examination,  he  will  (or  should)  return 
it  to  you,  stating  that  he  can  see  nothing 
wrong  with  it.  At  this  point  comes 
the  joke  :  you  tell  him  in  all  seriousness 
that  you  know  where  it  was  made,  and 


ADJUSTABLE   BRUSH  ATTACHMENT  FOR  MOTOR  CYCLISTS.     CLEANS 


YOU  JUST  AS   QUICK  AS  YOU   GET  MUDDIED. 


find  that  it  is  not  always  so  successful 
or  so  easily  understood  as  might  be 
expected.  My  first  mishap  with  it 
was  when  telling  it  at  lunch  time  to 
McPherson,  who  is  a  friend  of  a  clerk 
in  our  office.  I  told  it  to  him  three 
times,  in  order  that  he  might  see  the 
point.  When  I  eventually  convinced 
him  that  it  was  merely  a  joke  I  was 
dismayed  to  find  that,  instead  of  being 
delighted  and  amused,  he  regarded  it 
with  disfavour.  Indeed  he  went  so  far 
as  to  rebuke  me,  saying  that  .he  was  a 
Scotch  Presbyterian,  and  did  not  hold 
with  jesting  upon  serious  subjects. 
Upon  consideration,  1  am  bound  to 
admit  that  there  is  something  in  what 
he  says,  and  am  sorry  that  I  unwittingly 
shocked  his  religious  prejudices. 

After  McPherson  had  left,  another 
gentleman  sitting  at  the  same  table 
said  he  had  heard  the  beginning  of  my 
story,  but  not  the  end,  and  begged  me 
to  repeat  it.  Having  first  ascertained 
that  he  was  not  Scotch,  I  proceeded  to 
retell  the  story,  and  was  delighted  to 
find  that  he  did  not  know  that  it  was  a 


joke  he  was  listening  to — I  always 
believe  that  it  is  better  in  a  really 
humorous  story  or  joke  to  conceal  the 
point  of  it  till  the  end.  When  I  got  to 
the  point  of  the  half-sovereign  being 
obtainable  for  four-and-sixpence  and 
five  -  and  -  sixpence  he  was  frankly 
amazed,  for,  as  he  said,  the  coin  was  ol 
such  excellent  appearance.  He  begged 
leave  to  examine  it,  and  took  it  to  the 
light  to  do  so.  Perhaps  I  should  have 
explained  the  joke  at  that  stage.  As  it 
was,  I  was  so  delighted  at  the  success 
of  my  sally  that  when  he  passed  me 
four  shillings  and  sixpence  I  did  not 
realise  the  import  of  his  action.  By 
the  time  I  did  he  had  gone,  and,  as  I  do 
not  know  him,  I  am  afraid  that  I  shall 
lose  five  shillings  and  sixpence. 

Had  I  bsen  wise  I  should  have 
refrained  from  repeating  the  joke  again 
that  day.  But  my  failui'es  had 
galled  me,  and  so  I  tried  it 
on  a  third  person.  He  was  a 
tall  stoutish  man  who  looked 
good-humoured,  though  ob- 
viously not  highly-educated. 
He  listened  to  the  story  with 
gratifying  interest,  and  asked 
me  a  great  many  questions, 
to  all  of  which  I  replied  with 
humorous  candour.  Just  as 
I  was  about  to  explain  it,  the 
man  rose  suddenly,  gripped 
me  by  the  shoulders,  and 
asked  me  to  come  with  him 
quietly.  1  explained  that  I 
did  not  wish  to  come  with 
him,  but  he  was  verv  insistent 
and  also  very  strong.  You 
may  picture  my  surprise  and 
fear.  Here  was  I  being 
hustled  along  at  the  mercy  of  a  man 
whom  I  suspected  of  being  another 
Scotchman, 
joke  to  him 

of  humour.  He,  however,  repelled  my 
attempted  friendliness,  and  advised  me 
to  "  shut  my  mouth  and  come  along." 
Unaccustomed  to  such  treatment,  1  was 
at  a  loss  to  understand  it  till  I  found 
myself  in  Vine  Street  Police  Station. 
It  appears  that  I  had  to  do  with  a 
policeman  in  plain  clothes  who  had 
mistaken  me  for  a  criminal.  At  first  I 
thought  that  explanation  would  be 
easy,  but  I  fear  the  police  are  some- 
what deficient  in  humour.  Each  time 
I  attempt  to  explain  that  it  is  a  joke  I 
am  met  with  the  same  rebuff  that  they 
"  have  heard  that  sort  of  joke  before," 
and  am  recommended  to  tell  it  to  the 
Magistrate.  Therein,  it  seems,  lies  my 
only  hope ;  but  it  will  depend  upon  the 


I   tried   to   explain    the 
and  appeal  to  his  sense 


Magistrate.      If 
Mr.  PLOWDEN  I 


I   were   to   go  before 
should  feel  safe,  for  I 


feel  certain  that  he  would  understand 
or,  at  any  rate,  believe  it  was  a  joke. 
Otherwise  I  do  not  know  what  may 


AUGUST  6,  1913.] 


.PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


127 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    OLYMPIC    TALENT. 

A  KF.ES  'BUS-CONDUCTOR  MAKES  A  POINT  OP  NOT  STOPPING  HIS  'BUS  (WHILST  APPEARING  TO  DO  so),  TO  THE  HOPE  THAI 

MAY  DISCOVER  A   GOOD  HALF-MILEB. 


happen;    all  magistrates   are    not    as 
humorous  as  Mr.  PLOWDEN 

It  is  upon  this  point  that  I  am 
venturing  to  solicit  your  proverbial 
kindness.  Would  you  be  so  good  as  to 
appear  as  a  witness  for  me,  and  in  your 
capacity  of  Professional  Humorist  state 
that  you  recognise  the  story  as  a  joke. 
I  am  told  that  it  might  influence  the 
case  a  great  deal.  Perhaps  it  isn't 
really  a  good  joke,  or  perhaps  it  requires 
more  rehearsal,  but  I  will  not  ask  your 
opinion  on  that  at  the  present  crisis. 
All  I  ask  at  the  moment  is  that  you 
should  bear  witness  as  to  the  blame- 
lessness  of  my  intentions. 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 
Yours  very  respectfully,     J.  J.  J. 

P.S. — In  case  I  have  not  made  my 
joke  quite  clear  :  Half-sovereigns  are 
made  at  a  place  I  know  of — The  Mint. 
They  are  sold  for  4/6  and  5/6  each — 
i.e.,  4/6  +  5/6  =  10/-  each. 

The  joke  you  will  see  is  really  quite 
harmless,  and  free  from  all  taint  of 
immorality  or  illegality.  I  mention 
this  lest  you  should  fear  that  you  are 
being  dragged  into  a  shady  case. 


Rabies  at  Wimbledon. 

"  Roper  Barrett  was  superb.  Ho  crouched 
down  at  tho  net  and  snapped  at  every  ball 
that  came  near  him." — Glasgow  Herald. 


GOOZLEY  AND  CO.'S  NEW  SONGS 

May  be  sung  in  Public  without  Foe  or  Licence. 
Anyone  singing  them  elsewhere  will  be  pro- 
ceeded against  with  the  utmost  rigour. 


Offloy  Dodder's  Now  Song 
WHERE  EARTHQUAKES  BID  ME  SMILE 
(words  by  Margery  Butterfield)  will  be 
SUNG  by  Mr.  HAMISH  TIPPLE  at  SHIDE, 
I.  of  W.,  and  by  Miss  Eosanna  Plimmer 
at  Moreton-in-the-Marsh  TO-DAY. — 
GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


Adelaide  Egham's  New  Song 
THE  STOKER'S  SERENADE  (words  by 
Toschemann)  will  be  SCNQ  by  Mr. 
NIGEL  COKE  at  KUNCORN  and  by  Mr. 
Odo  Stopper  at  Cinderford  TO-DAY. — 
GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


Eric  Hewlett's  New  Song 
WHEN  MIDGES  BITE  (words  by  Nellie 
Pupe)  will  be  SUNG  by  Mr.  GOODY  GLOTT 
at  BRIXTON-SUPER-MARE,  by  Mr.  Oliver 
Bath  at  Brigbtlingsoa  and  by  Mr. 
Nicodemus  Pottle  at  Walberswick 
THIS  DAY. — GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


,  Tarley  Bindell's  New  Great  Song  .  . 
MY  LADYE  HATH  A  TOOTHSOME  SMILE 
(words  by  Sarah  Slumper)  will  be 
SUNG  by  Madame  VESTA  TANDSTICKOR 
at  BARNINGHAM  PARVA  THIS  DAY. — 
GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


Bertram  Blitherley's  Now  Song 
LET  ME  BLEAT  AGAIN  (words  by 
Tiffany  Bunter)  will  be  SCNO  by  Mr. 
ERASMUS  DOBY  at  CHOWBENT.  by  Mr. 
Alcuin  Tibbitts  at  Bacup  and  by  Mr. 
Hosea  Hogg  at  Baconsthorpe  TO- 
MORROW.— GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


Bernard  Huxley's  New  Golfing  Song 
BURY  ME  IN  A  BUNKER,  BOYS  I  (dedi- 
cated to  the  Grand  Duke  Michael)  will 
be  sung  by  Mr.  JOHN  DUFF  at  M  ACIIDI- 
HANISH,  and  by  Mr.  Hector  McSclaffie  at 
Lossiemouth  TO-DAY — GOOZLEY  and  Co. 


Bury  me  in  a  Bunker,  boys, 

When  I  've  foozled  my  last  tee  shot ; 
I  've  never  been  a  funker,  boys, 

Though  my  game  was  far  from  hot ; 
So  let  no  banjo-plunker,  boys, 

Commiserate  my  lot. 
I  've  often  had  to  pick  up,  boys, 

My  ball  when  I  've  played  fifteen ; 
And  my  caddie  once  gave  a  hiccup,  boys, 

As  I  putted  my  tenth  on  the  green ; 
And  I  once  had  an  awful  kick-up,  boys, 

When  I  drove  through  a  bathing- 
machine. 

So  bury  me,  not  in  the  sea,  boys, 
But  deep  in  the  yellow  sand, 

Some  sixty  yards  from  the  tee,  boys — 
That 's  the  carry  I  could  command ; 

And  bury  my  niblick  with  me,  boys, 
The  noblest  club  in  the  land. 


128 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  6,  1913. 


AMONG   THE   ANIMALS. 

JKHKMY  was  looking  at  a  card  which 
liis  wife  had  just  passed  across  the 
tahle  to  him. 

"  '  Lady  Bondish.  At  Homo,'  "  tic 
read.  "  '  Pets.'  Is  this  for  us  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Jeremy. 

"Then  I  think  'Pets'  is  rather 
familiar.  '  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  P.  Smith  ' 
would  have  been  more  correct." 

"Don't  he  silly,  Jeremy.  It  means 
it's  tv  Pet  party.  You  have  to  bring 
some  sort  of  pet  with  you,  and  there 
are  prizes  for  the  prettiest,  and  the 
most  intelligent,  and  the  most  compan- 
ionable, and  so  on."  She  looked  at  the 
fox-terrier  curled  up  in  front  of  the 
fireplace.  '  "  We  could  take  Bags,  of 
course." 

"  Or  Baby,"  said  Jeremy.  "  We  '11 
enter  her  in  the  Fat  Class." 

But  when  the  day  arrived  Jeremy 
had  another  idea.  He  came  in  from  the 
garden  with  an  important  look  on  his 
face,  and  joined  his  -wife  in  the  ha]l. 

"  Corne  on,"  he  said.    "  Let 's  start." 

"  But  where 's  Rags  ?  " 

"Effigs  isn't  coming.  I'm  taking 
Hereward  instead."  He  opened  his 
cigarette  case  and  disclosed  a  small 
green  animal.  "  Hereward,"  he  said. 

"  Why,  Jeremy,"  cried  his  wife,  "  it 's 
— why,  it 's  blight  from  the  rose-tree!" 

"  It  isn't  just  blight,  dear ;  it 's  one 
particular  blight.  A  blight.  Hereward, 
the  Last  of  the  Blights."  He  wandered 
round  the  hall.  "  Where 's  the  lead  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Jeremy,  don't  be  absurd." 

"  My  dear,  I  must  have  something 
to  lead  him  up  for  his  prize  on.  During 
the  parade  he  can  sit  on  my  shoulder 
informally ;  but  when  we  come  to  the 
prize-giving,  '  Mr.  J.  P.  Smith's  blight, 
Hereward,'  must  be  led  ou  properly." 
He  pulled  open  a  drawer.  "  Oh,  here 
we  are.  I  'd  better  take  the  chain  ;  he 
might  bite  through  the  leather  one." 

They  arrived  a  little  late,  to  find  a 
lawn  full  of  people  and  animals ;  and 
one  glance  was  sufficient  to  tell  Jeremy 
that  in  some  of  the  classes  at  least  his 
pet  would  have  many  dangerous  rivals. 

"  If  there  's  a  prize  for  the  biggest," 
he   said   to  his   wife,  "  rny  blight  has 
practically  lost  it  already.     Adams  has 
brought  a  cart-horse.     Hullo,  Adams," 
he  went  on,  "  how  are  you  ?  Don't  come 
too  close  or  Hereward  may    do  your 
animal  a  mischief." 
"Who's  Hereward?" 
Jeremy  opened  his  cigarette-case. 
"  Hereward,"    he   said.      "  Not    the 
woodbine;    that's   quite    wild.       The 
blight.    He  's  much  more  domesticated, 
nut  there  are  moments  when  he  gets 
out  of  hand  and  becomes  unmanage- 
able.    He  gave  me  the  slip  coming  here, 


and  I  had  to  chase  him  through  the 
churchyard ;  that 's  why  we  're  late." 

"Does  he  take  meals  with  the 
family  ?  "  asked  Adams  with  a  grin. 

"No.no;  he  has  them  alone  in  the 
garden.  You  ought  to  £ee  him  having 
his  bath.  George,  our  gardener,  looks 
after  him.  George  gives  him  a  special 
lath  of  soapy  water  every  day.  Here- 
ward  simply  loves  it.  George  squirts 
on  him,  and  Hereward  lies  on  his  back 
and  kicks  his  legs  in  the  air.  It 's  really 
quite  pretty  to  watch  them." 

He  nodded  to  Adams,  and  wandered 
through  the  crowd  with  Mrs.  Jeremy. 
The  collection  of  animals  was  remark- 
able ;  they  varied  in  size  from  Adams's 
cart-horse  to  Jeremy's  blight ;  in  play- 
fulness from  the  Vicar's  kitten  to  Miss 
Trehearne's  chrysalis;  and  in  ability 
for  perfoiming  tricks  from  the  Major's 
poodle  to  Dr.  Bunion's  egg  of  the 
Cabbage  White. 

"  There  ought  to  be  a  race  for  them 
all,"  said  Mrs.  Jeremy.  "  A  handicap, 
of  course." 

"  Hereward  is  very  fast  over  a  short 
distance,"  said  Jeremy,  "but  ho  wants 
encouragement.  If  he  were  given  ninety- 
nine. yards,  two  feet  and  eleven  inches 
in  a  hundred,  and  you  were  to  stand  in 
front  of  him  with  a-  William  Allan 
Richardson,  I  think  we  might  pull  it 
off'.  But  of  course  he  's  a  bad  starter. 
Hullo,  there  's  Miss  Bendish." 

Miss  Bendish,  hurrying  along,  gave 
them  a  word  as  she  went  past. 

"  They  're  going  to  have  the  inspec- 
tion directly,"  she  said,  "  and  give  the 
prizes.  Is  your  animal  quite  ready?" 

"  I  should  like  to  brush  him  up  a 
bit,"  said  Jeremy.  "  Is  there  a  tent  or 
anywhere  wheie  I  could  prepare  him  ? 
His  eyebrows  get  so  matted  if  he 's  left 
to  himself  for  long."  He  took  out  a 
cigarette  and  lit  it. 

"There's  a  tent,  but  you'll  have  to 
hurry  up." 

"  Oh,  well,  it  doesn't  really  matter," 
said  Jeremy,  as  he  walked  along  with 
her.  "  Hereward's  natural  beauty  and 
agility  will  take  him  through." 

On  the  south  lawn  the  pets  and  their 
owners  were  assembling.  Jeremy  took 
the  leash  out  of  his  pocket  and  opened 
his  cigarette  case. 

"  Gcod  heavens!  "  he  cried.  "  HE  re- 
ward has  escaped !  Quick !  Shut  the 
gates !  "  Ho  saw  Adams  near  and 
hurried  up  to  him.  "  My  blight  has 
escaped,"  he  said  breathlessly,  holding 
up  the  now  useless  leash.  "  He  gnawed 
through  the  chain  and  got  away.  I  'm 
afraid  he  may  be  running  amok  among 
the  guests.  Supposing  he  were  to  leap 
upon  Sir  Thomas  from  behind  and 
savage  him  —  it's  too  terrible."  He 
moved  anxiously  on.  "  Have  you  seen 
my  blight  ?  "  he  asked  Miss  Trehearne. 


"  He  has  escaped,  and  we  are  rather: 
anxious.  If  he  were  to  get  the  Vicar 
down  and  begin  to  worry  him — 
He  murmured  something  about  "  onc& 
getting  the  taste  for  blood"  and 
hurried  off.  The  guests  were  assembled, 
and  the  judges  walked  down  the  line 
and  inspected  their  different  animals. 
They  were  almost  at  the  end  of  it  when 
Jeremy  sprinted  up  and  took  his  place 
by  the  last  beast. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  panted  to  his 
wife,  "  I  've  got  him.  Silly  of  me  to 
mislay  him,  but  he's  so  confoundedly 
shy."  He  held  out  his  finger  as  the 
judges  approached,  and  introduced  them 
to  the  small  green  pet  perching  on 
the  knuckle.  "  A  blight,"  he  said. 
"  Hereward,  the  Chief  Blight.  Been 
in  the  family  for  years.  A  dear  eld 
friend." 

Jeremy  went  home  a  proud  man. 
"  Mr.  J.  P.  Smith's  blight,  Hereward," 
had  taken  fir.-.t  prize  in  the  All-round 
class. 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted  to  his  wife  at 
dinner,  "  there  is  something  on  my 
mind."  He  looked  at  the  handsome 
cigarette  box  on  the  tahle  in  front  of 
him  and  sighed. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  You  enjoyed 
yourself  this  afternoon,  you  know  you 
did,  and  Hereward  won  you  that 
beautiful  cigarette  box.  You  ought  to 
be  proud." 

"  That 's  the  trouble.  Hereward 
didn't  win  it." 

"  But  they  said — they  read  it  out, 
and 

"  Yes,  but  they  didn't  know.  It  was 
really  Elspeth  who  won  it." 

"  Elspeth  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear."  Jeremy  sighed  again. 
"  When  Hereward  escaped  and  1  \vc:it 
back  for  him,  I  didn't  find  him  as  I  — 
er — pretended.  So  I  went  to  the  rose 
garden  and — and  borrowed  Elspeth. 
Fortunately  no  one  noticed  it  was  a 
lady  blight  .  .  .  they  all  took  it  for 
Hereward  .  .  .  But  it  was  really  EKpcUi 
— and  belonged  to  Lady  Bendish." 

He  helped  himself  to  a  cigarette  from 
the  box. 

"It's  an  interesting  point,"  he  said. 
"  I  shall  go  and  confess  to-morrow  to 
Sir  Thomas,  and  see  what  he  thinks 
about  it.  If  he  wants  the  box  back, 
well  and  good." 

He  refilled  his  glass. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  the  real  blow 
is  losing  Hereward.  Elspeth — Elspeth 
is  very  dear  to  me,  but  she  can  never 
be  quite  the  same."  A.  A.  M. 


"The  stories  that  appeared  half  a  century 
ago  in  the  Cornhill  have  no  prototype  to-day." 
Everyman  "  Literary  Rotes." 

Why  literary  ? 


AUGUST  6,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


129 


NOBLESSE    OBLIGE? 

HONKSTY  is  all  very  well  as  a  policy 
but  it  is  sometimes  very  bad  manners. 
If  I  bad  only  known  bow  unspeakably 
itraightforward  and  outspoken  George 
Ncsliitt  was  in  tbo  matter  of  victuals 
and  drink  I  migbt  never  have  taken 
him  and  bis  wife  on  after  the  theatre 
to  supper  at  the  only  supping  place  in 
London,  and  I  certainly  shouldn't  have 
banded  him  the  wine  list  and  her  the 
menu.  I  should  have  myself  ordered 
the  table  d'lidta  supper  and  a  bottle  of 
tbo  best  and  given  them  no  chance. 
As  it  was,  I  left  the  choice  to  them, 
with  the  implication  that  expense 
was  no  object;  and  they  took  me  at 
my  word  -always  a  dangerous  thing 
to  do. 

Imagine  my  discomfiture,  surrounded 
as  I  was  by  the  pink  of  Society,  to  see 
George  beginning  at  the  wrong  end  of 
tbo  wine  list ! 

"  Your  appointed  task  is  to  select  a 
wine,"  said  I,  "  and  not  to  collect 
curious  information  concerning-  mineral 
waters  and  cigarettes/' 

"  Why  wine,"  asked  George,  "  and 
why  not  beer?" 

"Jl'sb,"  I  interrupted  him  apprehen- 
sively. "  They  migbt  hear  you." 

"  And  what  if  they  do  ?  "  said  George. 
"  Nay  more,  what  if  they  see  me  ?  " 

I  asked,  with  horror,  if  he  was  aware 
what  he  was  saying.  He  spoke,  he 
assured  me,  and  was  about  to  act,  with 
the  utmost  deliberation.  He  had  no 
intention  of  belying  his  feelings  or 
denying  his  taste  in  order  to  impress 
people  who  were  really  belying  their 
feelings  and  denying  their  tastes  in 
order  to  impress  him.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve," said  he,  "  either  in  their  air  of 
wickedness  in  general  or  their  lust  for 
champagne  in  particular.  That  fat 
jovial  old  gentleman  over  there,  what 
is  be  but  a  keen  man  of  business  who 
has  got  rich  by  the  most  glaring  in- 
dustry, and  would  have  got  richer  still 
if  ho  had  not  been  unable  to  be  un- 
scrupulous. Do  you  think  he  deceives 
me  by  smiling  subtly  as  he  drinks  his 
champagne?  Does  he  do  it  because  it  is 
bis  idea  of  pleasure  ?  or  in  order  to  create 
an  atmosphere  and  conceal  his  sterling 
qualities  under  a  show  of  ultra-smart- 
ness ?  And  his  daughter  there,  what  has 
she  to  do  with  the  magnum  ?  Do  you 
think  she  really  prefers  these  goings-on 
to  a  glass  of  hot  milk  and  an  early 
bed?  Even  the  lubricated  youth  by 
her  side,  are  his  motives  honest?  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  to  learn  that, 
when  there  are  no  appearances  to  keep 
up  and  be  is  absolutely  sure  that  there 
is  no  one  looking,  he  quenches  his 
thirst  with  shandy-gaff.  As  for  us,  are 
we  not  here  to  enjoy  ourselves? " 


Ticket-collector  (after  healed  argument).  "  WELL,  YOU'LL  HAVE   TO  PAY   FOB  HIM;    HE 

ISN'T  UNDER  THREE." 

Hotlier.  "No,  BUT  IP  HE  HADN'T  GOT  A  NEW  SUIT  ON  HE'D  BK  UNDER  THE  SEAT." 


"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?"  I 
said.  "  If  you  drink  shandy-gaff  here, 
I  shall  go." 

George  resumed  the  wine  list.  "  Ex- 
pense is  at  least  no  object  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nor,"  said  I  proudly,  "  with  any- 
one else  in  the  room." 

"  With  the  others,"  he  waved  a  dog- 
matic hand  to  include  the  whole  room, 
"  expense  is  the  sole  object,  but  you  I 
take  to  admit  that  there  are  other 
things  to  drink  besides  mere  bubble, 
and  that  the  best  of  all  liquids  comes 
out  of  a  barrel.  Waiter,  wo  will  drink 
Pilsener,  and  so  would  everybody  else 
if  only  it  was  extremely  expensive." 

To  maintain  my  dignity  before  the 
waiter,  "There  is  no  sucb  champagne," 
said  I. 


George  was  not  to  be  stopped.  "  I 
want  BEEU.  If  it  wasn't  so  late  at 
night  I  should  want  stout.  Bring  me 
beer  in  a  jug,  and  if  anyone  at  a  neigh- 
bouring table  demands  an  explanation 
you  will  have  to  blurt  out  the  truth 
that  it  is  for  a  gentleman — one,  that 
is,  who  will  only  drink  what  he  likes 
drinking. 

Kidneys  on  toast  and  beer !  I  turned 
from  him  in  disgust  to  Mrs.  George, 
who  was  engrossed  in  the  menu,  hiding, 
I  thought,  her  shame  at  her  husband's 
brutal  conduct.  But  women,  though 
they  set  about  things  more  delicately, 
are  just  as  bad  as  their  men  when  you 
get  at  the  truth  of  them.  She  blushed 
to  say  she  was  not  hungry,  though  it 
was  getting  on  for  three  hours  since 


130 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  6,  1913. 


Sentry.  "'ALT!     'Oo  GOES  THERE?" 


Belated  Reveller,  "  BLONDIK  1  " 


she  had  dined.  She  was  actually  afraid, 
more  shame  to  her,  that  she  could 
touch  none  of  the  substantial  things. 
She  would  wait  till  we  got  to  a  later 
stage  and  then,  if  she  might  .  .  .  might 
she  ?  .  .  .  Well,  we  had  been  rather  a 
long  time  discussing  the  drink  question 
and  it  had  given  her  space  to  study  the 
menu  thoroughly ;  and  right  at  the 
very  end,  in  small  print,  she  had  dis- 
covered .  .  .  did  I  mind?  .  .  .  semo- 
lina pudding,  and  semolina  pudding 
and  cream  she  couldn't  resist.  But 
nothing  to  drink,  please.  No,  abso- 
lutely nothing. 

What  was  left  for  me  but  to  settle 
down  to  beer  along  with  George  ?  And 
the  most  depressing  thing  about  the 
whole  affair  was  the  inner  feeling  that 
for  once  I  was  honestly  enjoying  a 
midnight  meal  at  ...  But  it  would 
never  do  to  give  the  name. 


"Unseasoned  bats  are  generally  found  to 
work  unsatisfactorily,  and  at  times  split  up 
into  two  creating  a  sort  of  disliking  towards 
its  manufacturer." 

Advt.  in  "  Poona  Mail." 
This  is  not  putting  it  too  strongly. 


"In  English  cricket  yesterday  Ker.t  boat 
Maycup,  Queen  Ena  and  Iron  Duke." 

Glasgow  Herald. 

Kent's  chance   for  the   championship 
seems  particularly  rosy. 


LINES    TO    A    PORPOISE. 

SEEN  LATELY  AT  THE  BRIGHTON 
AQUAKIUM. 

0  POEPOISE,  gamesome  beast  and 

wild, 
You  that  were  Liberty's  true  child 

(Or  so  it  seemed), 

'Tis  with  mixed  feelings  that  I  gaze 
On  one  well  known  in  other  days, 

And  much  esteemed. 

For,  truly,  of  all  ocean  sights 
You  are  the  one  that  most  delights 

The  sad,  bored  eye 
Of  him  whose  watch,  horizon-bound, 
Sees  but  the  great  deep  stretching 
round, 

And  no  land  nigh. 

'Tis  sweet  to  mark  you  sport  and 

frisk, 
Taking  the  maddest  kind  of  risk 

From  the  sharp  prow, 
Yet,  somehow,  never  cut  in  two ; 
How  you  escaped  I  never  knew, 

And  don't  know  now. 

And  then  to  see  you  sprint,  and  skip 
Light-hearted  past  the  quivering  ship 

In  idle  cheer, 
Or  to  engulf  some  hapless  meal, 

1  know  not,  but  the  swiftest  keel 

Was  nowhere  near. 


Yes,  porpoise,  you  're  an  agile  thing ; 
The  young  bird  in  his  pride  of  wing, 

The-cutrj-the  pup, 
The  kitten,  too,  delight  to  sport ; 
But,  as  a  rule,  they  cut  it  short 

As  they  grow  up. 

But  you — nor  years  nor  weight  can  dim 
The  fire  of  that  hilarious  vim 

With  which  you  shave 
The  steely  prow,  and  leap,  and  dive, 
And  generally  look  alive, 

But  never  grave. 

One  would  have  bet,  a  thing  so  free 
Would  find  his  life  one  sparkling  spree, 

A  constant  game ; 
Even  the  dour  and  ravening  shark 
Would  merely  lend  an  added  lark, 

To  dodge  the  same. 

But  none,  alas,  may  dodge  the  nets 
Of  Fortune  when  she  really  gets 

Up  to  her  tricks ; 
A  moment's  error,  seen  too  late, 
And  these  grim  words  announce  your 
fate — 

"  Tank  No.  6."  Dun-Dun. 


"Tom  M'Inerncy  was  a  prominent  fi^u 
but  it  was  rather  'his  style  and  earnestness 
than  the  number  of  his  runs  that  signalled 
him  out." — Porcupine. 
This  always  used  to  ba  tho  umpire's 
business. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  6,  1913. 


THE    COLLECTOR. 

UNCLE  SAM.  "  SAY,  JOHN,  WHAT 'S  THIS  GAME,  ANYWAY  ?  CRICKET  ?  WELL,  SEE 
HERE;  MAIL  ME  A  COPY  OF  THE  RULES.  WITH  DATE  OE  NEXT  INTERNATIONAL 
CHAMPIONSHIP.  I  'M  JUST  CRAZY  ON  CUPS." 


AUGUST  6,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


133 


ESSENCE     OF     PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  TUB  DIARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P.) 


II ' 


Mr.  BONAII  LAW. 


Mr.  JOHN  REDMOSD. 


House  of  Commons,  Monday,  July  28. 
—WINSOME  WINSTON'S  statement  with 
respect  to  purchase  of  oil  for  Naval 
purposes  spoiled  promising  little  game 
in  which,  as  mentioned  at  the  time, 
AHCHER-SHEK  led  off.  The  Marconi 
affair  played  out,  it  was  desirable,  if  not 
absolutely  necessary,  to  break  out  in 
fresh  place.  Oil  contracts  made  (or 
not  made)  by  the  Admiralty  seemed 
propitious.  ARCHER-SHEE  read  some- 
where that  the  Admiralty  had  made  a 
contract  with  the  Mexican  Oil  Com- 
pany for  a  trifle  of  a  million  tons  of  oil. 
Now  Lord  MURRAY  OF  ELIBANK  was 
closely  connected  with  this  commercial 
undertaking.  He  was  the  man  who  as 
Chief  Whip  invested  certain  funds  in 
American  Marconis. 

You  see?  What  more  natural  than 
to  suspect  that  he  had  used  his  influ- 
ence with  old  Ministerial  colleague  to 
load  the  Admiralty  with  this  stuff  to 
be  paid  for  by  the  taxpayer  ? 

ARCHER-SHEE  having  set  this  million- 
ton  ball  a-rolling,  a  series  of  questions 


Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL. 
THE  DAY  OFF,   AUGUST  4m. 

about  Admiralty  dealings  in  oil  began 
to  appear  on  Paper.  WINSTON,  follow- 
ing example  that  shall  be  nameless, 
lay  low  and  said  nuffin'.  Bided  his 
time  till  House  got  into  Committee 
on  Naval  Estimates.  Then  he  let  fly. 
The  fable  about  purchaso  of  a  million 
tons  of  oil  resolved  itself  into  micro- 
scopic fact  that  order  for  a  hundred 
tons  had  been  placed  with  Mexican 
Company  with  business-like  view  to 
test  its  quality  and  value  for  Naval  pur- 
poses. That  point  cleared  up,  WINSTON 
emphatically  insisted  that  if  there  were 
other  aspersions  or  insinuations  now 
was  the  time  to  set  them  forth. 

Thus  boldly  confronted,  ARCHER-SHEE 
and  his  friends  dropped  subject  like  hot 
potato.  To-day  DOCTOR  FELL  picks  it 
up.  Wants  to  know  if  Admiralty  con- 
tracts for  supply  of  oil  will  be  made 
only  with  companies  established  or 
registered  in  the  United  Kingdom  ? 
WINSTON  declines  to  pledge  Admiralty 
to  such  temptation.  DOCTOR  FELL  not 
to  be  set  aside  in  that  fashion. 


Mr.  ASQUITH. 


"  In  the  event  of  war  would  not 
grave  difficulties  arise,"  he  asked,  "  if 
we  had  contracts  running  with  firms 
or  companies  in  foreign  countries  ?  " 

"  Strange  as  it  may  seem,"  replied 
the  First  Lord  with  grave  courtesy 
that  perplexed  the  good  Doctor,  "  that 
aspect  of  the  case  is  borne  in  mind  by 
the  Admiralty." 

House  laughed.  DOCTOR  FELL  began 
to  wish  he  had  left  other  people's  hot 
potato  where  it  was  dropped. 

Business  done.  —  Report  stage  of 
Mental  Deficiency  Bill  wrangled  round. 

House  of  Lords,  Tuesday. — Engaged 
in  Committee  on  Scottish  Temperance 
Bill.  So  recently  as  a  fortnight  ago 
measure  regarded  as  foredoomed  to  fats 
of  Homo  Rule  Bill  and  Welsh  Church 
Bill.  The  Lords  would  have  none  of 
it  as  it  came  on  from  the  Commons. 
Last  Session  peremptorily  threw  it 
out.  Repetition  of  experience  seemed 
inevitable.  Sitting  to  -  day  presented 
transformation  scene.  The  spirit  (non- 
alcoholic) of  the  measure  permeated 


134 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAEI. 


[AUGUST  6,  1913. 


proceedings.  Temperance  was  the  order 
of  the  clay. 

Committee  witnessed  an  affecting 
scene  between  BEAUCHAMP  represent- 
ing Government  and  SALISBURY  leading 
Opposition.  There  was  about  it  some- 
thing reminiscent  of  a  once  popular, 
still  vaguely  famous,  melodrama  result- 
ing in  discovery  of  long-lost  brother. 
As  conversation  proceeded  one  almost 
expected  to  see  BEAUCHAMP  bare  his 
right  arm,  disclosing  the  mulberry  murk 
which  identified  the  strayed,  loyally- 
mourned  kinsman.  Stopping  short  of 
that,  Minister  in  charge  of  Bill  publicly 
thanked  noblo  lords  opposite,  especially 
the  marquis,  for  their  friendly  attitude. 

SALISBURY,  brushing  away  a  furtive 
tear,  acknowledged  generosity  of  re- 
marks thus  made,  but  modestly  depre- 
cated excessive  share  of  commendation 
bestowed  upon  his  unworthy  self.  The 
PRIMATE  interposing  at  this  juncture, 
the  peers  thought  he  was  about  to 
pronounce  a  benediction.  Instinctively 
felt  for  their  hats  in  which  to  bury 
their  faces.  He  however  merely  wanted 
to  say  "  how  entirely  lie  shared  the 
satisfaction  that  arrangement  had  been 
arrived  at,  even  if  it  were  not  com- 
pletely satisfactory  to  the  advanced 
wings  of  those  who  represented  two 
sections  of  opinion." 

Here  were  Some  Emotions.  The 
Moral  not  lacking.  For  the  little  more 
than  an  hour  in  which  business  was  in 
hand  the  Lords  presented  object-lesson 
of  the  method  and  manner  in  which 
social  legislation  might  be  effected  if 
Party  politics  were  discarded  and  per- 
sonal prejudice  held  in  restraint. 

Business  done. — Scottish  Temperance 
Bill  passed  through  Committee  without 
division.  Reported  with  amendments 
involving  concessions  from  both  sides. 

House  of  Commons,  Wednesday. — 
Yesterday  morning  adjourned  at  a 
quarter  to  four  o'clock.  Sat  up  all 
night  with  Mental  Deficiency  Bill. 
Another  late  sitting  last  night.  Progress 
blocked  by  little  band  of  malcontents 
on  Ministerial  side.  Dulness  of  debate 
illumined  by  solitary  flash.  New  clause 
moved  abolishing  death  sentences  in 
cases  of  mental  deficiency  in  criminals. 

"  I  would  sooner,"  said  WEDGWOOD 
in  reflective  mood,  "suffer  the  death 
sentence  than  perpetual  imprisonment 
under  this  Bill." 

Scanty  audience  pricked  up  its  ears. 
Obvious  that  whichever  alternative  were 
selected  its  adoption  would  necessarily 
lead  to  a  vacancy  in  the  representation 
of  Newcastle- under- Lyme  and  the  with- 
drawal at  Question  time,  and  through 
subsequent  stages  of  a  sitting,  of  a 
persistent  psrsonality. 

No  one  rose  from  either  side  to 
suggest  preference  as  to  method  of 


procedure.  Tacitly  agreed  to  leave  the 
matter  entirely  in  Mr.  WEDGWOOD'S 
hands. 

Business  done.  —  Colonel  SEELY 
heckled  about  his  aeroplanes.  On  vote 
for  War  OflBco  salaries  and  expenses 
Ministerial  majority  drops  to  33. 

Friday.— During  debate  on  "Welsh 
Church  Bill  last  Session,  LORD  BOB 
and  COUSIN  HUGH,  fighting  for  preser- 
vation of  the  Establishment,  its  fabrics 
and  endowments,  were  habitually  ham- 
pered by  inconvenient  'citation  from 
historical  -works  showing  that  in  the 
spacious  times  of  ELIZABETH  and  earlier 
the  CECIL  family  ran  LLOYD  GEORGE 
pretty  close  in  matter  of  hen-roosting 
in  connection  with  Church  property. 
In  present  House  this  inconvenience 
of  remote  ancestry  is  not  widely  felt. 


Mr.  FELL  picks  up  the  hot  potato. 

Interesting  conversation  in  smoking- 
room  to-day  on  subject  of  Members' 
claims  to  pre-eminence  in  respect  of 
family  antiquity. 

SARK  insists  that  the  Member  who 
boasts  the  longest  descent  sits  for  East 
Edinburgh.  Careful  study  of  the  ques- 
tion has  convinced  him  that  Mr.  HOGGE 
is  the  lineal  descendant  of  OG,  King  of 
Bashan,  who  went  out  against  the 
ancient  Israelites  journeying  forth  from 
the  Wilderness. 

Earlier  in  conversation  ATHERLEY- 
JONES  drew  attention  to  probability  that 
ATHEHLEY  is  a  modern  variation  on 
ATHELSTANE,  King  of  the  West  Saxons 
and  Mercia  in  the  tenth  century,  later 
crowned  sovereign  of  all  the  English. 
That  he  regarded  as  indisputable.  But 
when  it  came  to  reading  HOGGE  for 
OG,  it  was,  if  he  might  say  so,  going 
absurdly  beyond  the  extreme  length  of 
the  animal.  Besides,  as  contemporary 
chronicles  record,  the  Israelites  smote 
OG,  King  of  Bashan,  his  sons  and  all 
his  people,  till  there  was  none  left 
alive. 


"  That  being  so,  how  do  you  account 
for  HOGGE  ? "  asked  ATHERLEY  with 
that  inflexible  logic  that  marks  alike 
his  Parliamentary  and  his  forensic 
addresses. 

"  I  can't  always  account  for  him," 
said  SARK,  "especially  when  he  goes 
for  tho  harmless  SECRETARY  OF  SCOT- 
LAND. All  the  same  I  am  convinced 
of  his  royal  descent." 

TO    ME.   SIKES. 

[At  tho  recent  congress  of  the  British 
Medical  Association  the  theory  was  put  for- 
ward that  crime  is  a  good  thing,  being  to  the 
country  what  pain  is  to  tho  individual  aud 
teaching  valuable  lessons.] 

0  Sikes,  I    am   sorry.      Had   I    only 

thought, 

Or  ever  I  gave  you  in  charge, 
Of  the  good  that  arose  from  the  deeds 

that  you  wrought, 
You  'd  still  be  serenely  at  large. 
'Twas  finding  you  prowling  'about  in 

my  room 

(I  hurt  you,  I  fear,  when  we  clinched 
And  your  head  hit  the  washstand)  that 

made  me  assume 
You  richly  deserved  to  be  pinched. 

1  opened  the  window  and  shoiited  right 

well, 

While  prone  on  the  carpet  you  lay ; 
A  constable  came  (at  my  thirty-first  yell) 

And  stolidly  led  you  away ; 
The  judge  heard  my  story,  accounted 

it  true, 

And  cut  off  the  freedom  you  prized ; 
lie  apparently  failed  to  remember  that 

you 
Were  really  a  blessing  disguised. 

WThy  didn't  your  counsel  put  forward 

the  plea — 

Alas !  he  was  painfully  young — 
That  crime  is  a  thing  it  is  pleasant  to 

see, 

W'kose  praises  deserve  to  be  sung  ? 
Had  I  but  reflected  the  night  that  we 

met 

On  what  is  now  patent  and  clear, 
My  welcoming  palm  in  your  own  I'd 

have  set 
And  pressed  you  to  supper  (with  beer). 


1 '  After  being  coached  in  swinging  he  went 
out  on  a  private  ground  one  day  with  several 
caddies  and  several  boxes  of  balls,  and  drove 
ofi  five  hundred  consecutive  balls  before  he 
left  his  teeing  ground.  This  was  three  yeara 
ago  :  to-day  he  is  a  sound  scorer  about  'JO. ' ' 

Observer. 

All  the  same,  87  is  too  late  an  age  at 
which  to  take  up  the  game. 


"At  the  height  of  her  fame  Theresa 
achieved  perhaps  more  than  any  music-hall 
singer  has,  even  in  these  days  of  te  htiumrp 
m  m  m  m  mm." — Melbourne  Herald. 

These  ragtime  days,  in  short. 


AUGUST  6,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


135 


FASHIONABLE    INTELLIGENCE. 

"MR.  AND  MRS.  HENRY  HAWKINS  ARE  NOW  BACK  IN  TOWN  AND  INTEND  TO  FURNISH  THEIR  NEW  HOME  IN  THE  HACKNEY  ROAD 

WITH    OBJETS  U'AttT  ACQUIRED  DURING  THEIR  HONEYMOON." 


A    LIGHT    OFFENCE. 

WE  had  just  crossed  a  local  Alp, 
when  Pilcott  dismounted  suddenly  in 
the  lonely,  pine-bordered  road ;  and  I 
experienced  a  twinge  of  that  unrea- 
sonable sense  of  injury  with  which 
the  punctured  sometimes  inspire  the 
resilient. 

But  it  wasn't  that  at  all. 

"  I  've  had  a  feeling  all  day  that  there 
was  something  I  'd  forgotten,"  he  said 
blankly.  "  I  forgot  to  till  the  lamps  !  " 
and  lie  explained  how  he  had  emptied 
them  overnight,  to  clean  them,  and  had 
intended  to  refill  them  in  the  morning  ; 
but  —  well,  I  suppose  a  Perpetual 
Curate— that  is  Pilcott's  metier— has 
lots  of  things  to  think  about. 

His  contrition  was  very  proper.  It 
was,  lie  owned,  entirely  his  affair.  He 
had  mounted  me  in  the  dewy  morning — 
since  I  was  his  guest  and  must  be  kept 
amused — on  the  bicycle  that  commonly 
goes  district-visiting  with  his  sister, 
and,  on  his  new  and  spirited  all-black, 
had  given  me  a  lead  all  day  across  a 
stiff  country. 

"Now,  what  had  we  better  do?" 
he  went  on,  in  tones  of  suppressed 
agitation.  "  Unless  my  watch  is  fast, 

J   two    minutes    past    Lighting -up 


I  pointed  out  that  nature  herself  had 
provided  for  the  contingency  by  intro- 
ducing a  large  and  practicable  moon 
into  the  sky  that  arched  our  homeward 
path. 

"But  it's  past  Lighting-up  Time," 
he  repeated,  with  such  an  air  of  simple 
goodness  as  should  have  left  me  abashed. 
But  it  didn't. 

"  Now,  shall  I  ride  back,"  he  con- 
tinued with  a  brave  cheerfulness,  "  and 
get  some  oil?  " 

I  thought  of  the  Alp. 

"  Leave  me,  and  turn  Ultramontane?  " 
I  said  reproachfully. 

"  Or,  as  we  shan't  pass  a  house  for 
another  six  miles,  shall  we  just  walk?  " 

"  Bide,"  I  corrected  him. 

And  then,  standing  in  the  pale  moon- 
light, he  told  me  the  story  of  Ernest 
Gabbage.  It  was  a  true  but  unexciting 
story.  Ernest,  a  young  man  generally 
of  good  principles,  sang  bass  in  the 
village  choir.  But  this  did  not  avail 
him  in  the  hour  of  temptation.  And 
when  he  was  ordered  to  pay  half-a- 
crown  and  costs  for  riding  without  a 
light,  Pilcott  had  had  to  lend  him  the 
money  till  Saturday,  and  threw  in  a 
homily  with  the  loan. 

"  So,  you  see,  I  can't  risk  being 
caught  doing  the  same  thing,"  he  said. 
"  I  've  got  to  think  of  the  example." 


So  we  set  our  faces  sadly  to  the 
night. 

We  had  not  covered  many  leagues, 
however,  before  I  remembered  that  I 
at  least  had  not  got  to  set  an  example 
to  Pilcott's  parish.  Indeed,  it  would  be 
rather  presumptuous  on  my  part  .  .  . 

I  only  rode  at  a  gentle  footpace.  But 
even  the  district-visiting  bicycle's  foot- 
pace tried  Pilcott.  So  I  got  off  again  ; 
and,  at  Four  Ways  Mark,  Pilcott  bared 
his  head  to  the  night  wind  and  stood  a 
moment  in  thought. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  with  a  new 
diffidence,  with  a  note  of  apology  that 
I'  found  touching — "  I  suppose  cold 
cutlets  are  all  right — if — if  there 's  a 
salad." 

"  Quite  all  right,"  I  conceded.  "  But 
I  shouldn't  like — I  mean,  if  you  think 
our  delay  will  hurt  the  cook's  feelings 
in  any  way — 

I  watched  him  anxiously.  There 
was,  I  think,  an  inward  struggle.  But 
the  priest  conquered  the  man.  We 
went  on  again,  footsore  and  dismounted. 

"I  had  an  aunt  ones,"  I  said  pre- 
-sently,  as  we  emerged  on  a  heathy 
plain,  "a  good  woman,  who  believed 
that  if  you  felt  that  what  you  did  was 
right,  and  harmed  nobody,  why,  then 
there  was  no  harm  in  what  you  did." 
I  stole  a  furtive  glance  at  Pilcott's 


136 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  G,  1913. 


face.  Methought  it  looked  pale  and 
stern  in  the  white  moonshine. 

"  But  perhaps  that  is  rank  heresy,"  I 
added  hurriedly,  urging  in  extenuation 
that  she  was  a  Dissenter. 

On,  on,  and  the  road  plunged  into  an 
oak  wood.  How  it  happened  I  never 
knew.  Suddenly  Pilcott  was  riding— 
I  was  riding,  with  an  uplifting  of  spirit, 
with  a  lightness  of  heart  that  I  had  not 
known  since  half-past  eight.  I  breathed 
an  ampler  air.  I  had  become  a  wild 
tiling  of  the  Forest— but  with  a  human 
appetite  for  cutlets. 

And  then  there  was  a  scrunching 
crash  as  four  feet  came  to  the  ground 
together. 

We  wheeled  our  bicycles  forward. 

"  Good  night,  Williams,"  said  Pilcott 
cheerily  to  the  shadow  that  had  re- 
solved itself  into  a  policeman.  "  A  fine, 
warm  night." 

"Yes,  Sir;"— and  still  our  fate  hung 
in  the  balance.  Oh,  the  slowness  of 
rustic  speech!  —  "good  night,  Sir," 
said  Williams,  the  clement,  the  great- 
hearted. 

There  was  an  interval  of  chastened 
silence. 

"  We  got  out  of  it  better  than 
Ernest  Cabbage  did,"  was  my  tactless 
comment. 

The  Penitent  said  nothing. 

"But  "of  "course,"  I  added  with 
sudden  inspiration,  "  you  can  put  half- 
a-crown  and  costs  in  the  plate  on 
Sunday." 

Pilcott  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  I 
certainly  mean  to,"  he  said  fervently. 
(But  it  was  my  idea.) 

"  And  I,"  I  said,  lifting  myself  de- 
liberately into  the  saddle.  "  So  that 's 
settled,  and  now  we  can  have  our 
money's  worth  with  a  clear  conscience." 

I  don't  know  whether  you  can  find 
any  fault  with  my  argument ;  but,  if 
Pilcott  did,  he  showed  no  outward  sign 
of  sin,  but  ate  his  cutlets  like  a  man 
absolved. 

Rubbing  It  In. 

' '  The  whole  source  of  the  trouble  is  now 
found  to  be  in   the  existence  of  this  secret 
society,  the  members  of  whom  believe  in  a 
medicine    which    they    call    boriformor,    the 
principal  ingredient  of  which  is  human  fat, 
for  which  is  human  fat,  for  which  is  human 
fat,  for  which  a  human  victim  is  required." 
Bournemouth  Daily  Echo. 
The  writer  is  determined  to  make  our 
flesh  creep. 

From  a  letter  in  The  Times  : — 

"  Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  Ulster 
Scot  know  that  there  is  little  of  the  jelly-fish^ 
about' him.  He  may  bo  told  that  his  '  Coven- 
ant* was  rash,  that  it  was  unpatriotic — yea, 
even  that  it  is  revolutionary — but  he  need  not 
be  asked  to  tread  it  under  foot." 

But  that  is  the  last  thing  we  should 
ask  of  a  jelly-fish. 


INSUEANCE    IN   THE    LOWER 

SCHOOL. 

OF  course  the  whole  tiling  lias  been 
squashed  now.  That's  the  worst  of 
this  place.  It 's  simply  no  use  having 
ideas, 'and  if  you  do  got  hold  of  a  good 
tiling"  you  may  just  as  well  chuck  it 
unless  you  can  keep  it  dark.  And  all 
the  money  had  to  be  paid  back — what 
was  left  of  it.  That  was  a  pretty  com- 
plicated affair  to  arrange  to  everyone's 
satisfaction,  for,  as  the  Ape  said  him- 
self, unexpired  policies  are  tricky  things 
to  value.  It  was  the  Ape  who  thought 
of  it,  and  as  he  has  always  been  a 
special  pal  of  mine  I  was  a  good  deal 
mixed  up  in  it  from  the  start.  I  should 
explain  that  he  is  an  extraordinarily 
brainy  chap,  the  Ape.  He  simply  sent 
out  a  secret  circular  to  say  that  he  had 
started  an  insurance  company,  and  most 
of  the  chaps  tumbled  to  it  tremendously. 
He  collected  nearly  five  bob  the  first 
evening.  There  was  nothing  that  he 
wouldn't  insure  you  against  (young 
Forman,  who  was  down  with  the  ilu, 
took  out  a  life  policy),  but  his  principal 
lines  were  Insurance 

(1)  Against  being  licked. 

(2)  Against  your  rabbits  dying. 

(3)  Against  making  a  blob  in  a  match 

between  forms. 

(4)  Against    your    watch    stopping 

before  the  end  of  the  term.  (In 
this  case  you  had  to  prove  that 
it  had  been  wound  up  the  night 
before  in  the  presence  of  two 
witnesses,  which  was  rather  a 
nuisance.) 

All  that  was  pretty  useful,  as  these 
are  the  four  things  that  chiefly  worry 
a  chap  at  school.  And  later  on  he  had 
a  ripping  scheme  on  a  sort  of  sliding 
scale  for  insuring  batting  averages. 

The  Ape  knew  jolly  well  what  he 
was  doing.  As  I  have  said,  he  is  a 
most  extraordinarily  brainy  chap.  He 
was  an  excellent  judge  of  risks,  and  you 
never  knew  what  sort  of  a  premium  you 
would  have  to  pay.  Billy  Turton  had 
to  pay  eightpence  a  week  to  insure 
against  being  licked  (which  was  paid 
for  at  the  rate  of  Is.  a  licking,  with  a 
bonus  of  3d.  if  he  got  more  than  four); 
but  he  took  Little  Mary — that's  Field 
Junior — for  a  halfpenny  a  term.  And 
as  for  rabbits  he  absolutely  refused  to 
take  Billy's  at  any  price  at  all.  Which 
showed  his  wisdom,  because  there  was 
some  sort  of  infectious  disease  among 
them  that  cleared  out  the  lot  before 
half-term.  The  Ape  did  quite  well  out 
of  rabbits.  He  paid  young  Carey  to  go 
round  and  feed  them  all  in  case  their 
owners  forgot ;  and  after  Billy's  epi- 
demic he  went  about  with  a  syringe  and 
freely  drenched  the  place  with  carbolic. 


I  myself  was  simply  insured  up  to  the 
hilt.  It  cost  me  a  good  lot,  but  I  had 
plenty  of  money  at  the  beginning  of  term, 
and  after  it  was  all  fixed  up  I  felt  rip- 
pingly  snug  and  secure.  1  knew  that 
simply  nothing  could  possibly  go  wrong 
with  me  for  the  whole  term,  which  is  a 
topping  sort  of  feeling  to  have.  It 
didn't  matter  a  bit  if  I  left  my  new  bat 
out  all  night  or  had  to  sing  a  solo  in 
chapel  or  was  bottom  of  the  form  and 
got  snarky  letters  from  home  or  broke 
rules  or  anything. 

The  trouble  is  that  you  never  really 
know  how  things  will  turn  out  until 
you  try.  As  the  term  went  on  some  of 
the  "chaps  who  were  insured  against 
being  licked  began  to  find  that  they 
wern't  getting  their  money's  worth. 
And  then  there  was  a  most  extra- 
ordinary outbreak  of  crime.  The  au- 
thorities couldn't  make  it  out  at  all. 
Chaps  went  down  town  without  leave 
in  batches  of  half-a-dozen  at  a  time ; 
supper  parties  were  held  in  the  dormi- 
tories ;  people  were  always  climbing  on 
roofs,  breaking  windows,  cattying  the 
house-master's  fowls,  missing  roll-calls. 
We  really  had  a  high  old  time  for  a 
week  or  two,  till  JBeardmore  Minor 
gave  the  whole  show  away.  He  had 
just  been  licked  for  bringing  a  soda- 
water  syphon  into  form  and  spraying 
Watkins  Major  over  "his  shoulder,  and 
after  he  had  had  his  six  he  was  heard  to 
remark  in  a  thoughtful  kind  of  way, 
"  Well,  that 's  ninepence,  anyhow." 
And  later  on  he  confessed,  under  pres- 
sure, that  he  simply  had  to  be  licked  as 
he  had  run  out  of  jam  for  tea  and 
couldn't  afford  a  new  pot. 

That  was  how  it  came  out. 


A   White    Man. 

"The  Prime  Minister  is  now  as  white  as  he 
will  ever  be." — "  Glasgow  Herald's"  London 
Correspondence . 

This  is  bad  news.  We  had  always 
pictured  the  PREMIER'S  soul  as  growing 
whiter  and  whiter  every  season. 


Master  and  Pupil. 
"Percy  James  Milner   (24),  polisher,  and 
John  Callighan  ('<!4),  polished,  both  of  Birming- 
ham, were  found  guilty  at  the  Manchester  City 
Sessions." — Manchester  Evening  Chronicle. 


"  It  is  encouraging  to  find  that  some  of  our 
visitors  think  more  of  the  city  than  the  resi- 
dents, with  many  of  whom  no  doubt  familiar- 
ity breeds  an  unjustifiable  contempt." 

Grocott's  Penny  Mail. 
A  little  rough  on  the  residents. 


From  a  notice  in  the  Hotel  Hassler, 
Naples : — 

"  Ring  once  for  the  chambermaid,  twice  for 
the  porter,  three  times  for  the  boot." 

At  the  third  ring,  .you   see,  the  pro- 
prietor is  seriously  annoyed. 


AUGUST  G,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


137 


Lady.  "ARE  YOU  SURE  YOU  HAVEN'T  COME  10  THE  WRONG  HOUSE?    I  OBDEHED  A  ONE-HORSE  'BUS." 

brirer.  "THERE  AIN'T  NO  MISTAKE,  LADY;   THIS  IS  A  ONE-'ORSE  'BUS.    BLESS  YOU,  MAM,  YOU'VE  ONLY  SEEN  IT  STANDIN'  STILL." 


MY    BEAUTY    SPOT. 

I  OUGHT  not  to  give  the  secret  away, 
but  1  have  some  vestiges  of  conscience, 
and  I  feel  I  cannot  leave  the  public  in 
entire  ignorance. 

Of  course  you  are  pestered  by  men 
who  will  tell  you  how  superbly  the 
sun  rises  over  the  penny-in-the-slot 
machines  at  Billingsgate-by-the-Sea ; 
who  will  boast  of  the  weather  they 
never  had,  and  force  on  yon  the  names 
of  the  hotels  where  they  were  over- 
charged. I  am  not  one  of  those.  I 
shall  recommend  no  hotels ;  I  shall 
indicate  no  railway  routes  ;  I  shall  just 
ill-scribe  precisely  what  I  see  before  me. 

In  front  of  me  lie — perhaps  I  had 
better  say  stretch — no,  in  front  of  me 
are — vast  expanses  of  brilliant  blue  sea 
and  shimmering  yellow  sand.  So  vivid 
is  the  view  that  one  involuntarily 
exclaims,  "  Aha !  the  light  that  never 
was  on  land  or  sea !  "  It  is  all  that  I 
can  do  whilst  writing  to  refrain  from 
stepping  forward  and  taking  a  header 
into  those  refreshing  blue  billows.  A 
bright  promenades  borders  the  sands 
and  on  it  I  see  scenes  of  refined  jollity. 
1  see  the  nut  and  the  flapper,  but  a 
polished  nut  pursuing  a  dainty  flapper. 


And  on  the  pier  gay  pierrots  are  en- 
livening a  happy  throng. 

I  look  to  my  right  and  I  see  bosky 
dingles — faint  paths  leading  amongst 
flowering  bushes,  where  the  honey- 
suckle twines  round  the  honeymooners ; 
green  arbours  of  silence  where  nothing 
is  hsard  save  the  murmurings  of  sweet- 
hearts and  the  cooing  of  nightingales. 

Turn  to  the  left.  There  the  great 
clitf  rises  majestic  against  the  sky-line 
and  an  awful  precipice  of  hundreds  of 
feet  ends  in  huge  piles  of  rocks  and  a 
smuggler's  cave.  My  heart  thrills  as  I 
recognise  the  famous  Maiden's  Leap 
and  think  of  its  romantic  story. 

Behind  me  is  a  fair  expanse  of  peace- 
ful country  crimson  with  poppies,  and 
with  a  rippling  stream  running  through 
well-wooded  meadows. 

You  are  looking  for  the  skeleton  in 
the  cupboard  ? 

Lat  ma  point  out  that  the  rainfall  is 
nil ;  the  temperature  never  rises  above 
eighty  nor  falls  below  sixty-five;  that 
the  postal  service  is  superb ;  the  sani- 
tation splendid ;  the  amusements  un- 
equalled ;  and  the  cost  of  living  is  no 
more  than  in  any  great  town. 

You  insist  on  knowing  the  precise 
locality  ? 


But  I  don't  know  that  I  want  you 
there.  Above  all  things  I  hate  a  crowd. 

Still,  if  you  '11  promise  not  to  intrude 
whilst  I  am  in  residence — 

Well,  it  is  my  flat,  with  a  seaside 
poster  on  each  of  its  walls,  and  there  is 
not  a  watering-place  in  Great  Britain 
to  touch  it. 

The  Climber. 

"  For  Sale. — Cottage  Piano  made  in  Berlin, 
requires  tuning,  owner  getting  grand." 

Adrt.  in  "Pioneer." 

We  are  afraid  thatjie  is  giving  himself 
airs,  and  so  thinks  that  he  can  dis- 
pense with  a  piano. 


"With  an  hour  to  play  Wcstmount  only 
succeeded  in  notching  40,  Brebner  showing 
good  form  for  a  well  hit  2." 

Quebec  Chronicle. 

We  should  like  to  meet  BREBNER  and 
tell  him  about  our  masterly  3  last 
Monday. 

The  London  General  Omnibus  Com- 
pany invites  suggestions  with  the  view 
of  solving  the  problem  of  keeping  seats 
on  the  tops  of  omnibuses  dry  during 
wet  weather.  What  "s  wrong  with  the 
I  old-fashioned  plan  of  sitting  on  them  ? 


138 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  6, 1913. 


HOLIDAY    PLANS. 

July  24.— At  last  we  have  settled  where  to  spend 
our  holidays.  Wo  are  going  to  Les  Sentiers,  a  most 
delightful  littlo  place  in  Switzerland.  The  Mordauuts  are 
there  and  give  a  most  attractive  description  of  it.  They 
have  promised  to  engage  rooms  for  us  at  the  Hotel 
Bertiand,  which  they  say  is  much  the  host.  After  all  this 
uncertainty  and  discussion  it  is  very  pleasant  to  have  fixed 
everything.  The  children  are  overjoyed.  They  are  now 
practising  the  joihl  in  the  garden. 

July  25.— To-day  I  went  to  COOK'S  and  bought  the 

tickets very  expensive.  Was  quite  ashamed  of  myself  for 

asking  so  many  questions  about  reserved  seats  in  trains, 
and  sleeping  cars,  and  restaurants,  and  customs,  and 
whether,  if  you  travel  second  class,  they  admit  you  to 
meals  on  the  train  or  make  you  get  out  at  stations  and 
eat  there,  which,  as  we  are  so  many,  would  certainly  make 
all  or  some  of  us  get  lost.  A  dreadful  fate,  to  be  lost  on 
the  Swiss  frontier  and  to  wander  backwards  and  forwards 
under  perpetual  customs'  examinations.  After  about  an 
hour's  talk  with  the  gentleman  behind  the  counter,  with 
everything  or  nearly  everything  settled  and  paid  for,  I 
asked  him  about  Les  Sentiers.  He  said  it  was  very  popular 
during  winter,  which  was,  of  course,  the  best  time,  but  if 
we  didn't  mind  the  great  heat  during  the  day  and  the 
chilliness  of  the  nights  we  should  perhaps  be  able  to  enjoy 
ourselves.  Some  people,  however,  preferred  Les  Cailloux, 
where  the  hotel  was  newer.  Decided  to  say  nothing  at 
home  about  Les  Cailloux.  As  I  came  away  I  ran  across 
Battersby  in  Piccadilly.  Told  him  I  was  off  to  Switzerland. 
He  said,  "  Wherever  you  go  in  Switzerland  don't  let  anyone 
tempt  you  to  stay  at  Les  Sentiers."  He  then  hurried  off. 
Wonder  what  they  did  to  him  at  Les  Sentiers.  Mustn't 
mention  this  at  home  either. 

July  26. — Jack  Moberley  and  Mrs.  Jack  motored  down 
and  lunched  with  us.  Told  them  where  we  were  going. 
They  looked  at  one  another  and  at  first  said  nothing.  Then 
Mrs.  Jack  broke  out  and  said  she  was  too  old  a  friend  to  let 
us  ruin  our  holidays  by  staying  at  such  a  dreadful  place. 
Jack  chimed  in  and  said  it  was  the  last  place  on  earth  and 
he  wouldn't  be  found  dead  in  it.  "  Why  the  deuce,"  he 
added,  "  didn't  you  ask  our  advice?  Now  if  you  were  going 
to  Les  Cailloux  it  would  be  different.  Everything's  Al 
there,  but  Les  Sentiers  is  beyond  conception  for  dulness. 
You  '11  bore  yourself  stiff  and  the  children  will  simply  hate 
it."  Unfortunately  the  children  were  present.  After  the 
Moberleys  had  gone  we  held  a  family  council  and  decided 
to  write  to  the  Mordaunts  and  get  them  to  countermand 
rooms  at  Les  Sentiers.  On  Monday  I  shall  interview 
COOK'S  and  try  to  change  our  tickets  for  Les  Cailloux. 

July  27. — Coming  away  from  church  this  morning  we 
had  a  talk  with  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hartsley.  Lady  H. 
said  she  was  sure  we  shouldn't  care  for  Switzerland  in  the 
summer.  In  fact  it  was  quite  old-fashioned  to  go  there 
except  for  winter-sports.  This  was  overheard  by  the 
children,  who  have  been  under  the  impression  that  winter 
sports  go  on  in  Switzerland  all  the  year  round.  At  luncheon 
they  all  said  they  didn't  want  to  go  to  Switzerland. 

July  23. — Up  to  London  and  called  again  at  COOK'S.  My 
friend  behind  the  counter  not  quite  so  friendly.  Ssemed 
colder  and  more  distant  and  tired  more  rapidly  under  my 
questions.  After  a  good  deal  of  worry  got  tickets  changed 
for  Les  Cailloux.  Lunched  at  the  Club  and  found  Frank 
Naylor  there.  Told  him  we  were  going  to  Les  Cailloux. 
He  said,  "  Then  I  pity  you."  According  to  him  it 's  a 
terrible  place.  Happened  to  meet  Mrs.  Nicholson  in  Bond 
Street.  She  said,  "  Les  Cailloux  !  You  '11  be  roasted  and 
you  '11  be  robbed  and  you  '11  bore  yourself  to  death.  I  've 


been  once,  but  never  again  for  me."  This  was  a  facer. 
Told  Alicia  when  I  got  home.  She  said,  "  Why  go  to 
Switzerland  at  all?  Let 's  go  to  the  Isle  of  Wight." 

July  29 — Up  to  London  again,  and  called  at  COOK'S. 
Friend  behind  the  counter  tried  to  hide  when  he  saw  me. 
I  got  rid  of  all  our  tickets,  countermanded  all  reserved 
places,  and,  just  to  show  there  was  no  ill-feeling,  took 
tickets  from  him  for  Totland  Bay.  Wired  there  for  rooms. 

July  31. — No  rooms  to  be  had  in  Totland.  Dare  not 
interview  COOK'S  again.  Shall  throw  the  tickets  away  and 
stay  quietly  at  home.  The  children  very  despondent 
and  occasionally  sarcastic.  The  Mordaunts  wire  to  say 
we  shall  have  to  pay  a  week  for  rooms  engaged  at  Les 
Sentiers. 

THE    GURRUMPORE    LINKS. 

THE  fairway,  I  grant  you,  is  shocking, 

'Tis  a  nightmare  of  villainous  lies, 
Of  speargrass  that  works  through  your  stocking, 

Of  foul  and  importunate  flies  ; 
The  greens  are  "  brunettes,"  they  are  branded 

With  the  trampling  of  bullock  and  horse, 
And  yet,  to  be  thoroughly  candid, 

We  're  proud  of  our  Gurrumpore  course. 

And  why  ?  Ask  the  vulture  that  track'd  us, 

Poised  fearless  o'er  eyrie  and  bluff ; 
Ask  the  cobra  that  gaped  through  the  cactus 

At  the  sound  of  our  laugh  in  the  rough ; 
Go,  stand  where  yon  cataract  crashes 

In  a  passion  of  thunder  and  foam, 
And  ask  of  our  jubilant  mashies 

If  they  yearn  for  the  hazards  at  Home. 

Though  a  tigress  may  happen  to  stalk  me 

Through  the  shadows  of  canon  and  chine ; 
Though  the  yowl  of  her  offspring  may  balk  mo 

Of  holes  that  were  morally  mine ; 
Shall  my  golf  be  upset  by  a  trifle, 

When  "  a  tiger  (or  adult  or  cub) 
May  be  gently  removed  with  a  rine  "- 

Rule  IX.  of  the  Gurrumpore  Club  ? 

There 's  a  lake  at  the  fourth,  such  as  HERKICK 

Might  have  sung  in  some  exquisite  lay, 
But  it  goes  by  the  name  of  "  Enteric  " 

Since  the  fate  of  a  foursome  in  May ; 
And  an  obelisk  marks  where  our  captain 

(+  12  and  a  K.C.l.E.) 
Topped  an  easy  approach  and  was  trapp'd  in 

The  anthills  that  guard  number  three. 

It 's  not  a  long  course — you  '11  remember 

The  landslip  just  after  the  rains 
That  robbed  us  of  half  in  September, 

But  we  're  proud  of  the  piece  that  remains ; 
Though  no  golf  periodicals  name  it, 

Though  St.  Andrews  would  greet  it  with  mirth, 
From  the  depth  of  our  hearts  we  acclaim  it 

A  course  with  no  equal  on  Earth.  J.  M.  S. 


"  What  beginner  at  collecting  has  not  been  struck  by  the  startling 
resemblance  of  the  female  of  Hypolimnas  misippus  (Linn.)  to  the 
common  Danais  chrysippus  (Linn.)?  or  by  that  of  the  moth  Epi- 
copia  rolydora  (Westw.)  to  the  Papilios  of  the  Philoxeiius  group?— 
just  to  mention  two  very  self-evident  instances." 

Bombay  N.H.S.  Journal. 

Personally,  though  we   have   been  often  struck  by  these 
likenesses,  it  has  never  been  a  really  staggering  blow. 


,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


139 


"SEA-BATHING   DOESX'l   SUIT   EVEBYBODY." — Medical  OpMon. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MR.  ARNOLD  LUNN,  in  The  Harrovians  (METHUEN),  sets 
out  to  write  ths  school  story  as  so  many  have  done  before 
him.  Any  man  who  was  ever  a  Public  School-boy  will  be 
struck  by  his  realism  and  trutli  to  life,  but  any  man,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  is  still  a  Public  School-boy  will  call 
the  book  "  tosh  "  and  will,  no  doubt,  be  right.  Only  a  boy 
at  Harrow  could  have  written  a  story  of  Harrow  in  a 
manner  likely  to  appeal  to  the  present  generation,  and,  as 
he  must  have  written  it  in  a  language  unintelligible  to  the 
outer  world,  the  outer  world  must  be  content  with  Mr. 
LUNN'S  record  of  Peter  O'Ncil  as  being  the  nearest  to  the 
truth  that  it  is  likely  to  get.  This  Peter  must  certainly 
arouse  much  interest,  but  whether  he  will  get  sympathy  is 
another  question.  Myself,  never  too  tolerant  of  Radicals 
even  in  later  life,  found  the  prevalence  of  them  in  a  School- 
house  quite  intolerable,  and  that  this  most  priggish  and 
aggressive  of  them  should  be  patted  on  the  back  for  shirking 
his  games  when  a  "  new  man,"  and,  when  raised  by  his 
scholarship  to  be  Head  of  House,  for  using  every  legislative 
and  executive  authority  to  humble  and  degrade  the  "  Footer 
Bloods"  in  the  presence  of  the  fags,  was  to  me  monstrous. 
He  badly  wanted  kicking,  and,  if  he  still  lives,  I  feel  sure 
without  knowing  him  that  he  wants  it  now  more  badly  than 
ever.  Mr.  LUNN,  I  gather,  is  all  for  the  amelioration  of  the 
lot  of  the  small  fry,  the  suppression  of  brute  force  and  the 
triumph  of  intellect  over  muscle  as  well  at  school  as  else- 
where. Apart  from  my  general  belief  that  we  suffer  from 
too  much  of  the  intellectual  nowadays,  I  foresee  no  good 
from  the  substitution  in  Public  Schools  of  an  aristocracy  of 
brains  for  an  aristocracy  of  beef.  But,  however  much  I  may 


disagree  with  his  opinions,  I  must  give  him  credit  for  a 
very  fair  and  accurate  and  felicitous  statement  of  the  facts. 

Always  a  timid  starter -with  historical  romances,  I  am 
happy  to  say  that  rny  plunge  into  Before  the  Daivn  (CHAP- 
MAN AND  HALL)  was  not  half  so  chilly  and  caliginous  as  its 
title  had  led  mo  to  fear.  All  the  same,  the  book  needed  a 
little  courage  and  perseverance,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
KATHERINE  JAMES,  its  author,  had  chosen  for  her  back- 
ground one  of  the  most  blood-warming  episodes  possible — 
the  Garibaldian  struggle  for  a  united  Italy.  I  said  back- 
ground, but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  occupied  the  best  part  of  the 
stage.  The  interest  of  that  tremendous  revolution,  of  which 
the  writer  has  evidently  made  a  most  careful  study,  often 
came  near  to  obscuring  her  fictitious  creations,  instead  of 
bringing  them  out  in  relief,  as  a  background  should.  Whole 
chapters  passed  in  which  these  young  people  were  seldom 
met  with,  and  not  particularly  missed.  To  Philip  Sinclair, 
for  instance,  the  English  hero,  I  sometimes  felt  inclined  to 
say,  "  Sinclair — er — yes,  I  think  I  do  remember  your 
name.  Same  school — er — m— excuse  me,  will  you  ?  I  've 
just  got  to  go  off  and  meet  GAKIBALDI  ; "  and  the  ramifica- 
tions of  a  plot  which  was  concerned  with  a  concealed  will 
and  a  mistaken  identity,  not  to  speak  of  other  intrigues, 
needed  really  more  time  than  I  was  able  to  spare  from  the 
pressing  business  of  Italian  politics  and  the  siege  of  Rome. 
None  the  less,  I  was  glad  to  see  friend  Philip  depart  safely  for 
England  with  Monica  Erskine,  after  they  had  both  jeopar- 
dised their  lives  for  the  sake  of  a  country  not  their  own. 
Philip  was  a  plucky  fellow,  if  a  trifle  naif&nd  over-credulous. 
For  he  was  mistaken  surely  in  supposing  that  Mr.  Punch 
sent  out  a  special  artist  to  make  funny  pictures  of  the  war, 
and  he  shocked  me  severely  when  he  said,  reproaching 


140 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  G,  1913. 


himself  for  trifling  with  a  girl's  feelings,  "  If  I  allow  myself 
to  hear  that  bell  many  more  times  I  shall  be  worse  than 
cad  —  a  damned  cad,  as  we  used  to  say  at  Rugby." 


Tut-tut,  Philip  I  all  I  can  say 
have  been  Before  the  Dawn. 


is  that  this  must  indeed 


Mr.  Win/brew's  Princess  (ALSTON  HIVEHS)  is  one  of  those 
stories  that  give  you  their  argument  in  their  title — at  least 
very  nearly.  I  opened  it  in  the  confident  expectation  of  a 
strong,  silent  American  millionaire,  and  a  distressed  Royalty 
from  one  of  those  states  that  the  rise  of  Euritania  has 
made  a  little  too  frequent  in  fictional  geography.  As  it 
turned  out,  I  was  practically  right,  the  main  difference  being 
that  the  hero  of  Mr.  HOWARD  C.  HOWE'S  novel  is  a  north- 
country  Englishman;  but  he  is  just  as  rich  and  strong 
and  successful  as  the  other  type,  and  on  the  last  page  he  is 
left  exchanging  pet  names  with  the  Princess  in  the  same 
old  way.  One  novelty  is  that  the  lady  has  in  the  meantime 
ceased  to  be  what  one  might  call  a  practical  princsss,  her 
kingdom  having  become  a  republic.  Also  the  villain  of  the 
tale,  Demetrios,  reigning  usurper  of  Transiola,  is  perhaps 
even  more  villainously  compounded  than  the  generality  of 
his  species.  The  way  he 
carries  on  in  the  attempt  to 
defend  his  ill-gotten  posi- 
tion from  the  efforts  of  Mr. 
Whybreie  and  party  to  kick 
him  out  of  it  is  something ! 
dreadful,  and  will  provide; 
sensation-lovers  with  more 
than  a  sufficiency  of  mur- 
ders and  tortures  and  es- ! 
capes  and  secret  passages  j 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  On  i 
the  whole,  indeed,  though  1 1 
am  far  from  denying  that 
its  melodrama  is  tempered 
by  a  certain  distinction,  I 
was  left  with  the  impres- 
sion that  Mr.  Whybrew's 
Princess  would  be  more  at 
home  in  paper  covers.  So 
attired,  and  with  a  picture 
in  appropriate  colouring,  I 
for  her  on  the  bookstalls. 


on  a  baffling  illustration,  and  he  elects  instead  to  be  rather 
cheaply  cynical  about  something  entirely  different.  But 
let  me  consolidate  my  faith.  I  do  believe  in  Mr.  CRAIG  as 
an  artist  and  a  reformer  ;  I  acknowledge  that  he  has  already 
done  great  work ;  and,  if  it  is  the  privilege  of  artists  to 
become  at  times  a  little  intoxicated  with  their  inspirations, 
then  that  privilege  I,  very  respectfully,  concede  him. 

Upon  first  consideration  I  found  The  lied  Mirage  (MILLS 
AND  BOON)  vastly  dramatic  and  moving,  but  a  second  and 
calmer  thought  prevents  my  passing  it  over  without  a 
captious  remark  or  two.  It  is  eminently  a  story  of  the 
hero  and  the  heroine,  the  villain  and  the  minx,  and  above 
all  the  man  of  strength,  silence  and  imperturbability.  The 
complications  are  infinite  and  adroitly  contrived,  and  the 
Sahara  makes  a  fine  background  for  the  clash  of  arms  and 
passions  involved.  The  utmosphere  is  wholly  military,  only 
one  civilian  intervening  to  any  practical  purpose  and  then 
to  play  the  baser  part.  Army  plans  are  stolen  from  time 
to  time,  the  dishonour  and  punishment  are  vicariously 
suffered,  and  for  the  woman  at  the  bottom  of  it  there  is 


little  need  to  search. 


The  Epicure.  "WAITER,  I  WANT  rcur  TO  SWITCH  OFF  THAT  KLECTEIO 

FAN    AT    ONCE  1       II  'S    WAFTING    THE    FLAVOUB    OF    THAT    GENTLEMAN'S 
FBOZEN  PTARMIGAN  INTO   MY   BOITP." 


should  anticipate  a  long  reign 


I  cannot  say  how  accurate  may  be 
the  representation  of 
France's  notorious  Foreign 
Legion,  that  last  resort  of 
those  who  have  lost  every- 
thing except  the  fighting 
instinct.  But  it  is  very 
graphic  and  plausible,  and 
it  almost  escapes  one's 
notice  that  this  legion, 
alleged  to  consist  exclusively 
of  the  dregs  of  humanity, 
exhibits  in  its  members  little 
else  than  the  most  pleasing 
qualities  of  courage  and  un- 
selfish generosity.  Upon 
third,  and  personal,  con- 
sideration, I  refrain  from 
emphasizing  Miss  I.  A.  R. 
WYLIE'S  great  fault,  her  lack 
of  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous, 
shown  by  the  way  in  which 


Towards  a  New  Theatre  (DENT)  reveals  Mr.  GORDON 
CKAIG  still  proceeding  in  this  desirable  direction  upon  the 
stepping-stones  of  his  published  works.  There  is  this 
quality  about  Mr.  CRAIG,  that,  having  said  once  what  he 
holds  to  be  the  truth,  he  never  hesitates  to  say  it  again  and 
again ;  and  always  apparently  with  the  same  fine  careless 
rapture  of  conviction.  Personally,  I  can  only  wish  that  I 
believed  in  his  drawings  half  as  much  as  I  enjoy  looking  at 
them.  In  the  present  handsome  volume  forty  of  them  are 
reproduced  at  large.  Some  of  these  you  may  remember, 
not  long  ago,  at  the  Leicester  Galleries ;  others  are,  to  me 
at  least,  new.  Anyhow,  the  art  of  their  creator  has  here 
a  fair  trial.  Art  it  certainly  is  ;  but,  from  the  point  of  view 
of  practical  stage-craft,  upon  my  word  I  don't  know  that 
one  can  say  much  more  for  it.  I  hope  that  this  admission, 
regretful  as  it  is,  will  not  make  Mr.  CRAIG  righteously  indig- 
nant with  me  ;  for  there  are  several  instances  in  the  book  of 
persons  who  have  been  compelled  by  their  consciences  to 
object  to  this  or  the  other  design,  on  the  ground  that  it  was 
too  vague,  or  lacking  in  point — and  the  pages  of  the  letter- 
press are,  so  to  spaak,  strewn  with  their  corpses.  Much  of 
this  letter-press  is  highly  amusing,  some  of  it  vexatious,  as 
for  example  when  one  looks  to  Mr.  CRAIG  for  enlightenment 


she  allows  virtue  and  vice  alike  to  go  to  such  absurd  lengths 
and  by  her  habit  of  letting  her  people  analyse  aloud  both 
themselves  and  each  other  in  such  strange  phrases  and  at 
such  strange  times.  In  making  the  charge  I  am  myself 
involved  in  it,  for  that  I  read  the  book  with  unaffected  zeal 
from  cover  to  cover  and  never  paused  to  laugh  or  even  smile 
at  the  contrast  between  it  and  real  life. 


The  "Times"  Literary  Sensation. 
Says  SPIELMANN  :  "  Here,  through  HEGER'S  Iont6, 
Are  letters  writ  by  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  ; 
Says  CLEMENT  SHORTER  :  "  Well,  I  'm  blighted  1 
I  thought  I  'd  had  'em  copyrighted !  " 

"Ce  n'est  que  le  premier  pas.  .  .  ." 
From  a  list  in  The  Referee  of  theatrical  companies  011 
the  road : — 

"  '  Her  First  False  Step '  (Sunderland  to  Glasgow)." 
And  a  long  one  too. 


"  The  Eussian  Court  of  Justice  had  ordered  the  first  three  volumes 
of  the  works  of  Leo  Tolstoi  in  the  Gorbunoff  edition,  containing  the 
translation  of  the  four  Gospels,  with  notes  by  Tolstoi,  to  be  destroyed." 

Yorkshire  Weekly  Post. 

To   make   this  paragraph   more    acceptable,   it  has  been 
headed  "  Motoring  on  the  Cleveland  Moors." 


Ai-ousT  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OH  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


ill 


CHARIVARIA. 

CoLONKri  SEELY  has  been  elected 
a  member  of  the  National  Liberal 
Club.  Wo  can  only  liopo  that  this 
will  servo  as  a  warning  to  any  other 
Unionist  who  thinks  of  going  over  to 
the  enemy.  ..  ... 

There  is  only  one  air-ship  named 
Gamma.  But  thero  are  several  military 

aeroplanes  known  as  "  Gammon." 

t  

Thofact  that  some  members 
of  the  London  County  Council 
played  bridge  during  an  all- 
niglit  sitting  has  been  much 
commented  on  as  an  innova- 
tion, but  we  believe  it  to  bo 
a  fact  that  the  Corporation 
of  London  has  a  Bridge  Com- 
mittee which  was  instituted 
before  the  game  was  even 
invented.  !:.  % 

''•~ 

"  Over  eighty  abandoned 
cats,"  we  read,  "  were  picked 
up  in  the  London  streets  on 
Thursday  by  the  Animals' 
liescue  League."  \Vo  are  not 
at  all  sure  that  the  expression 
"abandoned  cats"  is  not  a 
libellous  one. 

"Is  there  a  Hell?"  asks 
a  volume  recently  published. 
Our  New  York  Correspon- 
dent informs  us  that  the 
doubt  implied  in  this  ques- 
tion has  been  greatly  resented 
in  Chicago.  0.  ... 

Owing  to  its  author  re- 
fusing to  supply  the  libraries 
with  it  on  the  day  of  publica- 
tion a  certain  new  book  nearly 
became  known  as  "The 
Woman  Thou  Wouldst  Not 
Give  Us."  ...  ... 

Thieves  who  visited  the 
residence  of  Mr.  BENE  BULL, 
the  well-known  artist,  took  away  a 
small  quantity  of  jewellery,  but  left  bis 
drawings  untouched.  Modern  artists 
are  getting  used  to  insults  of  this  sort. 

*     :;: 

The  outburst  of  ill-feeling  in  the 
I  nited  States  over  our  refusal  to  take 
part  in  the  Panama  Canal  Exposition 
.s  a  little  bit  difficult  to  understand. 
Bulgaria,  Servia,  Turkey,  Morocco  and 
Siam  have  also  declined  the  invitation. 
Why  should  we  be  singled  out  for 
attack? 

Personally  we  would  like  to  sec 
Great  Britain  show  just  one  exhibit, 


Treaty  which  thoUnited  States  Govern- 
ment refuses  to  observe. 

$  $ 

A  Christmas  greeting  posted  at  Cliis- 
wick  on  the  24th  December  last  was 
delivered  at  its  destination,  Market 
Square,  Brentford,  on  the  29th  July. 
It  is  only  fair  to  the  POSTMASTKH- 
(iKNKitAii  to  mention  lliat  the  29th 
July  was  an  exceptionally  cold  day. 

:? 

According  to  Professor  A.  A.  BKIU.K, 


often   felt   that    our    own   have 
wasted  on  this  trivial  pursuit. 


been 


It  is  snid  that  during  the  sitting  of 
the  International  Congress  of  Medicine 
no  one  has  dared  to  he  taken  ill  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Albert  Hall  for 
fear  of  perishing  in  the  rush  that  would 
be  made  for  him  by  the  G1H1  doc! 
•'.-  •.•• 

Surgeon-General  Sir  DAVUJ  Burn1., 
who  has  returned  to  England  from 
Central  Africa,  where  ho  has 
been  studying  sleeping  sick- 
ness, states  that  half  the  wild 
animals  shot  were  suffering 
from  this  disease.  If  this  bo 
so  the  exploits  of  certain  big 
game  hunters  become  rather 
less  miraculous. 


"  It  is  sixteen  years  since  I 
was  last  here,"  said  Senator 
J.U'THAY,  of  Toronto,  at  a 
luncheon  given  to  him  by 
Canadians  at  Prince's  Eos- 
taurant  last  week,  "  but  from 
what  I  see  I  am  convinced 
that  England  is  anything  but 
asleep."  That 's  so,  Senator ; 
it 's  these  darned  motor-buses 
that  cause  the  insomnia. 
They'd  keep  even  Canada 
awake. 

In  certain  quarters  the 
Balkan  States  are  constantly 
being  blamed  for  their  war- 
like propensities.  What 
nonsense  this  is !  They  're 
always  making  peace. 


"ALONE  IN  LONDON." 
PATHETIC  WEST-END  SCESE  DURING  AUGUST. 


of  Denver, "  baby  talk,"  in  which  parents 
indulge,  is  bad  for  babies.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  many  infants  have  for  years 
looked  upon  it  as  an  insult  to  their 
intelligence,  and  have  refused  to  be 
interested  in  it.  ...  .,. 

Doris,  the  steam  yacht  belonging  to 
Mr.  SOL  JOEL,  and  called  after  his 
daughter,  lias  been  re-christened  Eileen. 
By  way  of  counter-stroke  w-e  under- 
stand that  DORIS  has  decided  never 
again  to  call  the  sun  Old  Sol. 

Mr.  MARSHALL  WHITLATCH,  in  an 
article  in  The  Century,  asserts  that 


namely,  a  framed  copy  of  the  Panama  !  golfers  do  not  need  brains.     We  have 


Commercial  Candour. 
From  a  circular : — - 
"Mr.  Trilokiuath  Sharma 
writes  : — '  I  have  been  unbounded- 
ly pleased  with  your  sweet  scented 
Kaminia  Oil,  which  is  a  very  use- 
ful preparation.  It  is  an  excellent 
remedy  for  headache.  It  cures  it 
in  no  time  ;  at  the  same  time  the 
hair  becomes  bright  and  smooth. 
Its  perfume  is  so  very  strong  that 
a  man  standing  at  a  distance  of  100  yards  can 
enjoy  it.'  "  

The  Miler's  Motto. 
"  Above  all  he  would  commend  to  them  the 
well-known  Latin  quotation,  '  Mens  sana  in 
corpore  sand ' — '  A  sound  wind  in  a  sound 
body.'  " — Bath  and  Wilts  Chronicle. 

Dr.  CHARLES  GORING,  in  a  crimino- 
logical  Blue-book  just  issued,  says : — 

"  As  regards  cephalic  measurements  it  is 
shown  that  in  breadth  of  head  Cambridge  ex- 
ceeds Oxford  to  about  the  same  extent  that 
Oxford  men  exceed  criminals,  but  that  crimi- 
nals and  Oxford  men  are  equally  longer- 
headed  than  the  Cambridge  men." 
This  should  help  parents  in  deciding 
whether  to  send  their  sons  to  Park- 
hurst  or  to  one  of  the  older  Universities. 


142 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


THE    HEIRS    OF    HELLAS. 

[On  Wednesday  last  the  HOME  SECRETARY,  presiding  at  the  morn- 
in"  session  of  the  Welsh  National  Eisteddfod  at  Abergavenny,  made 
the  following  historical  statement :  "  Since  the  times  of  the  Grecian 
democracy  no  people  hut  the  Welsh  have,  developed  an  institution  like 
this,  and  it  is  your  honour  and  glory  to  bo  the  successors  of  the 
greatest  artistic  people  in  the  world."] 

O  ISLES  of  Greece !     O  isles  of  Greece ! 

(Where  burning  Taffy  never  sang), 
"What  though  your  warblers  hold  their  peace; 

What  though  your  lyres  have  lost  their  twang ; 
Our  choirs  of  Wales  can  do  as  well  as 
Any  old  choristers  of  ancient  Hellas. 

Strange  that,  until  the  other  day, 

Halfway,  in  fact,  through  yester-week, 

None  had  compared  Apollo's  bay 
Writh  Cambria's  local  veg.,  the  leek; 

Or  noticed  how  a  common  fluid 

Flowed  in  the  veins  of  Bacchic  bard  and  Druid. 

Who  was  it,  steeped  in  pedant  lore, 

That  marked — what  never  yet  was  seen — 

The  signs  of  kinship  which  they  wore — 
The  Welshman  and  the  late  Hellene? 

Who  first  conveyed  this  truth  to  men  ? 

He  of  the  Celtic  fringe,  from  Monmouth  (N.). 

Emerging  from  the  Eisteddfod's  chair 

He  flung  an  eye  o'er  history's  page 
And  saw  no  rival  record  there 

Since  Athens  and  the  Golden  Age. 
Where  was  its  like  ?  There  wasn't  any. 
rfhat  's  what  he  told  'em  down  in  Abergavenny. 

Arising  out  of  which  remarks 
Thiia  further  precious  truth  was  found  : — 

Not  under  bloated  oligarchs 

Such  beanos  of  the  bards  abound; 

You  never  get  the  taste  that 's  Attic 

Except  where  governments  are  democratic. 

Ah,  well  may  Wales  lift  up  her  voice, 
When,  full  of  sweetness  and  of  light, 

A  second  PERICLES  makes  choice 
Of  Criccieth  for  his  cottage  site, 

And  breathes  on  this  high  bardic  function 

A  local  air  of  Panhellenic  unction ! 


O.  S. 


KEEPING  THE  THEATRES  OPEN. 

["Miss  Mary  Forbes  has  had  a  few  slight  alterations  made  to  the 
Third  Act  of  The  March  Ilarc  at  the  Ambassadors'  Theatre,  with  the 
result  that  Mr.  Harold  Smith's  piece  now  plays  at  a  high  speed  and 
provides  two  hours  of  continuous  laughter.  During  her  sensational 
china-smashing  scene  a  few  nights  ago  Miss  Forbes  had  the  misfortune 
to  let  slip  from  her  finger  a  very  valuable  diamond  ring,  which  so  far 
has  not  been  recovered." — Press,  passim."] 

MB.  PUNCH,  who  has  been  throughout  in  fullest  sympathy 
with  the  great  discussion  on  How  to  Keep  the  Theatres  Open, 
is  at  present  undecided  whether  to  award  the  prize  to  Miss 
MARY  FORBES.  There  are  other  cases  of  merit. 

Tho  Messrs.  MELVILLE  have  had  a  few  slight  alterations 
made  to  the  Second  Act  of  Oliver  Twist  at  the  Lyceum 
Theatre,  with  the  result  that  the  piece  attributed  to  the  late 
CHARLES  DICKENS  is  now  playing  to  packed  houses.  When 
the  curtain  rises  on  the  interior  of  Mrs.  Maylie's  house  the 
stage  is  seen  to  be  crowded  with  plate  and  valuables,  and 
Bill  Sikes,  instead  of  putting  Oliver  in  through  the  window, 
comec  to  the  footlights  and  extends  a  cordial  invitation  to 
Lyceum  patrons  to  break  in  for  themselves  by  means  of  a 
central  gangway  specially  provided  for  the  purpose. 


At  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  where  Within  the  Law  id 
meeting  with  a  success  that  is  quite  unprecedented,  d, 
trifling  alteration  has  been  made  which  is  proving  very 
popular.  Mr. FREDERICK  HARRISON,  in  conjunction  with  Sir 
HERBERT  TREE,  Mr.  FARADAY,  Mr.  FENN,  Mr.  WIMPKIUS 
and  tho  author,  has  arranged  that  Joe  Garson  shall,  at  ai 
crisis  in  the  play's  action,  fire  five-pound  notes  into  evin-y 
part  of  the  house  by  means  of  a  new  Silent  Tract-Dis- 
tributing Pistol.  Every  member  of  the  audience  receives 
with  his  ticket  a  personal  guarantee,  signed  by  Mrj 
HARRISON,  Sir  HERBERT  THEE,  Mr.  FAHADAY,  Mr.  Fi 
Mr.  WJMPERIS  and  the  author,  to  the. effect  that  not  more 
than  nine  notes  out  of  every  ten  shall  be  counterfeit. 

If  anything  could  possibly  add  to  the  success  of  Diplomacy 
at  Wyndham's  Theatre,  it  is  the  announcement  that  during 
the  sensational  scene  in  which  Mr.  GERALD  DU  MAUKIKK 
draws  from  his  pocket  a  cigarette-holder  longer  than  any 
previously  seen  on  the  stage,  the  popular  actor-manager 
•allowed  it  one  night  last  week  to  slip  through  his  tingfi-s 
and  roll  into  the  auditorium.  The  cigarette-holder,  which 
is  of  solid  silver  handsomely  chased,  and  is  calculated  to 
be  of  not  less  than  twenty-four  inches  in  length,  has  not 
so  far  been  recovered.  It  is  understood  that  if  any  stall^ 
holder  should  happen  to  come  across  it  in  the  dark  no 
enquiries  will  be  instituted. 

The  enterprising  management  of  the  London  Opera  House 
have  once  more  caused  a  few  slight  alterations  to  be  in;i<le 
an  their  sensational  entertainment.  Some  nights  ago  the 
Beauty  Chorus  (every  member  of  which  is -understood  to  be 
worth  not  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  in  the 
clothes  in  which  she  stands)  had  the  misfortune  to  let  slip 
from  their  necks  a  series  of  very  valuable  pearl  necklaces, 
which  so  far  have  not  been  recovered.  -  The  misfortune 
occurred  during  a  tour  of  the  auditorium,  and  it  is  con- 
fidently expected  that  the  invitation  of  the  revue's  title  will 
now  prove  irresistible. 

WANTED,   INTEREST    NOT    CAPITAL. 

A  YOUNG  MAN  recently  advertised  in  The  Times  that  he 
would  be  delighted  "  if  anyone  would  TAKE  an  INTEREST  in 
HIM."  He  made  no  appeal  for  financial  assistance,  and  tlie 
novelty  of  the  idea  should  appeal  to  imitators.  Thus  : — 

A  WELL-KNOWN  CLUBMAN  would  be  grateful  to  any  lady 
or  gentleman  who  would  be  willing  to  listen  to  some  of; 
his  Best  Stories,  say  for  an  hour  or  so  each  day,  and  who. 
would  not  object  to  an  occasional  repetition.  —  Address, 
BOREAS  BROWN,  The  Chestnuts,  Yarmouth. 

A  GOLFER  (handicap  18),  who  seven  years  ago  won; 
monthly  medal,  would  be  glad  to  hear  from  others  who 
would  discuss  the  game  with  him  for  a  few  hours  daily. 
— Address,  T.  PUTNAM  GREEN,  The  Potbunks,  Pulborough. 

A  GENTLEMAN  would  be  grateful  to  anyone  who  would 
take  an  interest  in  his  health  by  calling  upon  him  periodi- 
cally to  make  enquiries,  etc.  Advertiser  is  not  actually 
unwell,  but  feels  the  absence  of  the  attentions  referred  to.! 
— Apply,  Panel  Cottage,  Malinger-sur-Mer. 

MEMBER  OF  PARLIAMENT  who  has  never  yet  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  addressing  the  House  would  be  deeply  obliged  to 
any  person  or  persons  who  would  be  willing  to  sit  through 
an  occasional  speech  from  him,  applauding  at  any  passage 
which  excited  approval  or  admiration.  The  speeches  would 
not,  as  a  rule,  be  of  more  than  two  hours'  duration. — Apply, 
Slate  35,  The  Bar,  House  of  Commons. 

Would  some  kindly  disposed  person  permit  Advertiser  to 
send  him  or  her  once  a  week  his  views  of  LLOYD  GEORGE? 
— Address,  The  Sanatorium,  Lyme-on-the-Wash. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  13,  1913. 


THE    ENTENTE    TUBE. 

STEWARD  (ore  night  Channel  boat).  "  IF    THEY    BRING    IN    THIS    'ERE    TUNNEL,    MY    JOB  'S 
GONE."  MB.  PUNCH.  "  THAT  'S    THE    ONLY    SOUND    OBJECTION    I  'VE    HEARD    YET." 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE   LONDON   CHAUIV AIM. 


140 


Tramp  (mistaking  garden  suburb  liouseliolder  fur  one  of  Ins  own  profession}.  "  You  'UK  WASTING  YOLR  TIMK,  CHARLIE.      THE  LAST 

TIME  I  CLIPPED  THAT  'EDGE  I  WAS  REWARDED  WITH  THREE   V-rEXCE,  A  CUP  o'  TEA   NEARLY  WABM   AND  A  PAIR  O*   CYCLING   KSICKKUS 

I  WOULDN'T  BE  SEEN  DEAD  IN." 


"THE  SEARCH  FOR  OLYMPIC 

TALENT." 
(To  the  Editor  of  "  Punch.") 

DEAR  SIR, — Our  attention  has  been 
drawn  to  a  series  of  humorous 
drawings  in  your  Journal  depicting 
imaginary  efforts  to  discover  talent 
which  could  be  utilised  for  tho  benefit 
of  tho  country  at  the  Olympic  Games 
to  be  held  in  Berlin  in  1916. 

We  are  inclined  to  deprecate  such 
light  treatment  of  a  very  serious 
matter,  and  would  like  to  point  out 
that  while  your  artist  is  fiddling  with 
the  subject,  as  it  were,  Rome  would 
burn,  if  it  were  not  for  tho  efforts  of 
ourselves  and  others  equally  anxious 
for  tho  athletic  welfare  of  tho  country. 

Our  own  views  are  set  forth  in  the 
brochure  which  we  have  enclosed  with 
a  copy  of  our  Autumn  Catalogue  for 
your  perusal. 

T4io  brochure  has  been  specially  com- 
piled for  us  by  Mr.  Hyain  A.  Seelsmann, 
a  leading  light  in  the  American  athletic 
world,  and  whom  we  have  induced  to 
relinquish  an  important  post  in  the 
Games  Department  of  John  Money- 
wacker's  famous  establishment  and  to 
tako  up  the  even  more  onerous  position 
of  Manager  of  our  Athletic  Outfitting 


Department   (see  Cat.,   p.   35).     This! 
fact  alone  speaks  well   for  our  deter- 
mination to  leave  no  stone  unturned  to 
uphold  the  prestige  of  Great  Britain  in 
the  forthcoming  Olympic  struggle. 

Our  New  Autumn  Catalogue  and 
Price  List  describes  fully  by  means  of 
letterpress  and  illustration  our  enormous 
stock,  which  has  been  manufactured  in 
the  firm  belief  that  the  chief  require- 
ments of  an  athlete  are  that  lie  should 
be  suitably  clad  (pp.  47-53)  both  during 
competition  and  after  (see  our  "  Sun- 
beam "  Sweaters,  with  the  little  warm 
bath,  p.  50),  and  that  his  weapons  or 
implements,  as  the  case  may  be,  should 
bo  of  the  very  best  make  and  quality. 
In  this  respect  our  new  spring  grip 
discus  (43s.  doz.,  rim  brakes  extra)  will 
be  found  superior  to  any  other  on  the 
market,  giving  longer  flight  at  less  cost, 
and  the  turned-up  eclgo  enables  it  to  be 
of  service  on  the  dinner-table  when  not 
otherwise  engaged. 

A  reference  to  our  various  makes  and 
iizes  of  oars  (pp.  71-76),  tennis  racquets 
(pp.  89-102),  and  javelins  (pp.  113-118) 
will  convince  the  budding  athlete  that 
we  provide  for  every  need  in  these 
directions.  Our  fencing  foils — the  "Pan- 
jandrum," with  the  little  round  button 
at  top  (pp.  133-135) — are  the  last  word 


in  cold-rolled,  old  vatted  spring  steel; 
every  blade  is  twenty  over  proof  and 
marked  "Excalibur"  on  every  inch, 
without  which  none  is  genuine. 

Our  non-flam  dumbbells  and  our 
Indian  clubs,  the  latter  made  of  real 
wood,  are  and  have  been  for  many  years 
the  talk  of  the  athletic  world  (see 
a  few  of  our  unsolicited  testimonials, 
pp.  xxii.-mcmiv.). 

In  the  hope  that  these  few  lines  will 
arouse  you   to  a  sense  of  your  great 
responsibility  in  this  matter,  and  trust- 
ing to  receive  your  esteemed  orders, 
We  remain,         Yours,  etc., 

Tin:  OLYMPIC  OUTFITTING  Co.,  LTD. 


I'rom  adjoining  posters  seen  in  Man- 
chester :— 

"TEXTILE  "LADY'S 

SPLIT :  LAWSUIT 

REMARKABLE  ABOUT  HER 

SITUATION."         BATHING  DRESS." 

The  connection  is  obvious. 


"  Doubtless  there  arc  many  of  us  who  would 
bo  glad  to  pay  rent  with  a  red  nose,  as  certain 
trustees  at  Berruondscy  paid  yesterday." 

Pali  Mall  Gazelle. 

Speaking  for  ourselves  we  should  be 
sorry  to  present  such  a  spectacle. 


146 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


HOLIDAY  HINTS. 

THE  Paris  Correspondent  of  The 
Daily  Mail  recently  contributed  to  the 
columns  of  that  journal  a  full  account 
of  the  recommendations  issued  by  Dr. 
F.  HELME  to  mothers  leaving  home  for 
seaside  or  country  holidays.  These 
recommendations,  however,  are  con- 
fined entirely  to  a  list  of  medicines, 
including  serum  for  snake-bites,  phials 
of  morphine,  etc.  It  has  occurred  to 
Mr.  Punch,  always  solicitous  for  the 
welfare  of  the  young,  to  supplement 
this  imperfect  catalogue  of 
remedies  with  a  number  of 
useful  bints  to  parents  and 
guardians  for  grappling  with 
holiday  emergencies.  For 
greater  convenience  of  refer- 
ence, these  are  arranged  in 
alphabetical  order. 

ANIMALS,    WILD,    ESCAPED 

FBOM    MENAGERIES. The 

most  satisfactory  way  of 
dealing  with  this  emergency 
is  to  engage  a  lion-tamer  for 
the  holidays  and  never  allow 
any  of  the  young  people  to 
go  far  afield  without  him. 
In  case  of  a  division  of  the 
party  there  should  be  one 
lion-tamer  for  each  group. 
Failing  this  method,  the  next 
best  is  summed  up  in  the 
rule  :  Never  go  for  a  country 
walk  without  a  red-hot  poker. 
(The  poker  can  be  kept  red- 
hot  in  a  specially  constructed 
Vacuum  Calidus  Case,  which 
can  be  purchased  at  Eam- 
jach's.) 

BULLS,  MAD,  MEANS  OP 
SOOTHING.  —  No  affectionate 
parent  should  permit  any  ex- 
cursion to  be  taken  in  pastoral 
districts  without  providing  at 
least  one  of  the  party  with  a 
bottle  of  chloroform  or  some 
other  powerful  narcotic,  in 
case  of  attacks  by  mad  or  misanthropic 
oxen.  Some  American  millionaires  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  retain  the  services  of 
an  expert  Spanish  bull-fighter  expressly 
for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  safety 
of  their  children  and  friends,  but  the 
cost  is  prohibitive  to  most  professional 
Englishmen.  N.B. — The  best  way  of 
administering  the  chloroform  is  to 
drench  the  bag  of  a  butterfly  net  and 
then  put  it  over  the  bull's  head. 

EAGLES,  HOW  TO  EESCUE  CHILDREN 
CARRIED  OFF  BY. — The  eyries  of  these 
birds  being  as  a  rule  situated  in  well- 
nigh  inaccessible  places,  climbing-irons 
are  an  essential  requisite  of  the  holiday 
outfit.  But  it  is  as  well  to  supplement 


them  with  a  small  howitzer.  Accurate 
aiming  is,  of  course,  indispensable,  as  a 
badly  discharged  bomb  might  hit  the 
child  but  spare  its  captor.  On  this 
account  it  is  perhaps  preferable  to  lure 
the  bird  away  by  the  bait  of  some 
specially  appetising  viands,  such  as 
Caviare,  or  Bombay  Duck,  or  Lim- 
burger  Cheese. 

GYPSIES,      PRECAUTIONS      AGAINST.  — 

The  large  increase  of  the  Romany  race, 
duo  to  the  immense  spread  of  the 
cult  of  BORROW,  has  been  attended  by 


highly  desirable  to  include  in  the  holi- 
day outfit  a  harp,  or  harps,  for  the 
purpose  of  soothing  children  to  sleep. 
Lists  of  pieces  of  a  specially  soporific 
character  can  be  obtained  from  anv  good 
nerve-specialist.  These  are  generally 
known  as  Chlorales,  varying  in  degrees 
of  intensity. 

LIMBS,  ARTIFICIAL. — A  good  supply  of 
false  legs,  arms  and  eyes  should  always 
be  laid  in  to  meet  the  requirements 
of  adventurous  children  when  holidays 
are  spent  in  rocky  districts. 


AT  HYGIENE  HOUSE. 
The  Superintendent,  "Now,  SIB,  IT'S  TIME   FOB  YOUR  SUN-BATH 


ON  THE  HOOF.' 


serious  results  in  the  way  of  the  kid- 
napping of  children  of  wealthy  parents 
and  holding  them  to  ransom.  To 
guard  against  such  disasters,  it  is 
strongly  recommended,  (1)  that  all 
children  should  be  marked  in  indelible 
ink  with  their  names  and  addresses ; 
(2)  that  when  left  by  themselves  they 
should  be  securely  tethered  by  un- 
'breakable  chains  to  absolutely  im- 
movable objects;  (3)  that  where  this 
!is  impossible  each  child  should  be 
provided  with  a  powerful  steam  whistle 
or  siren  to  acquaint  its  parents  as  to 
its  whereabouts. 


INSOMNIA,     MEANS 
CHILDREN     SUFFERING 


OF       TREATING 
FROM.  —  It      IS 


MOTORISTS,  ENTERTAIN- 
MENT FOR  YOUTHFUL. — The 

irritation  so  generally  felt  by 
the  high-spirited  youth  at 
obstacles  to  his  progress  will 
be  largely  allayed  if  thought- 
ful parents  provide  him  with 
yea-shooters  and  air-guns  for 
the  regulation  of  tiresome 
pedestrians,  cyclists,  poultry, 
sheep,  dogs,  etc.  A  very 
vpretty  game  can  be  played 
between  the  occupants  of  the 
two  sides  of  the  car,  the 
object  being  to  see  which 
can  score  most  hits. 

NOSE  -  BLEED,  REMEDIES 
FOB.  —  After  all,  the  best 
remedy  for  this  common 
summer  complaint  is  the  old 
device  of  putting  keys  down 
the  patient's  back.  A  bunch 
of  keys  should  accordingly 
be  taken  for  each  member 
of  the  party,  varying  in  size 
with  the  age  and  weight  of 
the  individual. 

OlL,  FOR  ROUGH   PASSAGES. 

— In  cases  where  families  are 
proceeding  to  the  Hebrides 
or  other  holiday  resorts  which 
involve  a  sea  passage  in  small 
steamers,  considerate  parents 
or  guardians  will  not  fail  to 
provide  themselves  in  ad- 
vance with  a  liberal  supply  of  oil 
in  barrels  or  tanks,  for  the  purpose 
of  assuaging  the  disturbance  of  the 
troubled  waters. 

EAILWAY  ACCELERATORS.  • —  It  is 
often  found  that  children  who  start 
away  from  London  in  high  spirits  at 
fifty  miles  an  hour  on  some  main  line 
route  become  impatient,  fretful  and 
refractory  when  they  exchange  this 
exhilarating  speed  for  the  slow  crawl 
of  a  local  line.  To  meet  this  difficulty 
parents  will  find  it  helpful  to  take  with 
them  auxiliary  engines  to  assist  loco- 
motives incapable  of  hauling  a  passen- 
ger train  at  more  than  twenty  miles  an 
hour  up  a  steep  incline.  These  can  be 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVAIM 


147 


Sergeant.  "HKRE!    WHAT  THE  DEUCE  ABE  you  AT?    LIE  DOWN;    YOU'LL  GIVE  THE  WHOLE  BALLY  SHOW  AWAY." 
Entomological  Private.  "HANG  IT,  MAN,  I  MUST  HAVE  IT.    IT'S  AWFULLY  RAIIK — A  DOTTED 


carried  on  a  truck  with  steam  up  until 
such  time  as  occasion  arises  for  their 
use,  and  then  transferred  to  the  rails. 
The  cost  is  extraordinarily  small,  con- 
sidering the  result  on  the  temper  of  the 
passengers,  averaging  only  about  £100 
a  journey  (exclusive  of  initial  outlay). 

SHARK-BITES,  PRECAUTIONS  AGAINST. 
—Where  bathing  is  indulged  in  it  is  as 
well  to  provide  juveniles  with  special! 
water-wear,  made  of  chain-mail,  to 
resist  the  dental  attack  of  these 
dangerous  monsters.  To  counteract 
the  access  of  weight,  it  is  desirable  to 
have  the  chain-mail  fitted  with  unsink- 
able  aluminium  air  chambers. 

IVES,  PORTABLE. — In  this  context 
\ve  may  also  insist  on  the  necessity  of 
small  portable  stoves  to  restore  caloric 
in  children  who  stop  in  too  long  when 

bathing. 

Another  Impending  Apology. 

From  a  criticism  of  a  musical  come- 
dian : — 

"It  is  not  much  good  saying  ho  was  funny 
because  he  could  not  help  boingothcrwiM-." 
South  China  Morning  1'ost. 


A  FATAL  FLAW. 

I  SAT  upon  her  dexter  hand 

One  day  in  London's  busy  whirl 
(A  rhyme  of  lasting  vahie)  and 
Thought  her  a  charming  girl. 

Not  to  embark  on  detailed  praise, 

Her  voice  was  low  and  very  sweet ; 
I  liked  her  looks,  her  voice,  her  ways ; 
Her  figure,  too,  was  neat. 

Her  converse  gave  me  evidence 
Of  an  extremely  active  mind  ; 
Here  is,  I  said,  a  girl  of  sense ; 
This  is  indeed  a  find. 

I  will  not  say  she  took  to  me 

As  I  to  her,  lest  you  should  mock ; 
But  it 's  the  solemn  fact  that  we 
Got  on  like  one  o'clock. 

The  garments  that  I  chanced  to  wear 
Were  new,  and  fresh  as  early  May ; 
I  luckily  had  had  my  hair 
Cut  on  the  previous  day. 

Happening  gently  to  enquire, 

She  clung,  I  learned,  to  rural  scenes 
(As  I  do)  and  her  doting  sire 

Was  dowered  with  ample  means. 


And  thus  she  cast  on  me  a  spell 
So  rapid  and  of  such  a  flaine 
That  I  had  grown  to  love  her  well 
Before  the  coffee  came. 

And  when  the  ladies  left  their  male 

Companions  to  the  wonted  smoke, 
I  did  not  heed  the  cheerful  tale 
Nor  chortled  at  the  joke. 

The  customary  talk  of  man 

Just  then  allured  me  not  at  all ; 

I  sat  determining  a  plan 
.    To  ask  if  I  might  call ; 

And  let  my  fancy  play  about 

In  dreams  (ah  me !)  of  wedded  bliss, 
Which,  but  for  what  occurred,  no  doubt 
I  had  attained  ere  this. 

But,  when  T  saw  her  next,  a  blight 
Fell  on  me  with  a  sudden  chill ; 
The  maiden  stood  up  to  recite : 


And  I  am  single  still. 


DUM-DUM. 


"  A  great  pearl  robbery  at  Narraganset  Pier 
is  now  exciting  American  society.    The  victim 
of  America's  ablest  detectives  is  Mrs.  Charles 
Bumsey." — Tfinnin-gham  Daily  Post. 
Yet  another  American  police  scandal  ? 


148 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


THE   MISSING  CARD. 

WHAT  I  say  is  this :  A  man  has  his 
own  work  to  do.  He  slaves  at  the 
oflice  all  day,  earning  a  living  for  those 
dependent  on  him,  and  when  he  comes 
home  lie  may  reasonably  expect  not  to 
be  bothered  with  domestic  business.  I 
am  sure  you  will  agree  with  me.  And 
you  would  go  on  to  say,  would  you 
not,  that,  anyhow,  the  insuring  of  his 
servants  might  safely  be  left  to  his 
wife?  Of  course  you  would!  Thank 
you  very  much. 

I  first  spoke  to  Celia  about  the  insur- 
ing of  the  staff  some  weeks  ago.  Our 
staff  consists  of  Jane  Parsons  the  cook, 
the  first  parlourmaid  (Jane)  and  Parsons 
the  upper  housemaid.  We  call  them 
collectively  Jane. 

"  By-the-way,"  I  said  to  Celia,  "  I 
suppose  Jane  is  insured  all  right?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  see  about  it  to- 
morrow," said  Celia. 

I  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  It  was 
just  the  sort  of  thing  I  might  have  said 
myself. 

"  I  hope  she  won't  be  unkind  about 
it,"  I  went  on.  "If  she  objects  to 
paying  her  share,  tell  her  I  am  related 
to  a  solicitor.  If  she  still  objects,  er — 
tell  her  we  '11  pay  it  ourselves." 

"I  think  it  will  be  all  right. 
Fortunately,  she  has  no  head  for 
figures." 

This  was  true.  Jane  is  an  excellent 
cook,  and  well  worth  the  £75  a  year 
or  whatever  it  is  we  pay  her;  but 
arithmetic  gives  her  a  headache.  When 
Celia  has  finished  dividing  £75  by 
twelve,  Jane  is  in  a  state  of  complete 
nervous  exhaustion,  and  is  only  too 
thankful  to  take  the  nine-and-sixpence 
that  Celia  hands  over  to  her,  without 
asking  any  questions.  Indeed,  any- 
thing that  the  Government  wished 
deducted  from  Jane's  wages  we  could 
deduct  with  a  minimum  of  friction — 
from  income-tax  to  a  dog-licence.  A 
threepenny  insurance  would  be  child's 
play. 

Three  weeks  later  I  said  to  Celia — 

"  Has  an  inspector  been  to  see  Jane's 
card  yet  ?  " 

"  Jane's  card  ?  "  she  asked  blankly. 

"  The  insurance  card  with  the  pretty 
stamps  on." 

"  No  .  .  .     No  .  .  .     Luckily." 

"  You  mean " 

"  I  was  going  to  see  about  it  to- 
morrow," said  Celia. 

I  got  up  and  paced  the  floor. 
"Keally,"  I  murmured,  "really."  I 
tried  the  various  chairs  in  the  room, 
and  finally  went  and  stood  with  my 
back  to  the  fire-place.  In  short,  I 
behaved  like  a  justly  incensed  master- 
of-the-house. 

"  You  know  what  happens,"  I  said, 


when  I  was  calm  again,  "  if  we  neglect 
this  duty  which  Parliament  has  laid 
upon  us?  " 

"  No." 

"  We  go  to  prison.  At  least,  one  of 
us  does.  I  'in  not  quite  sure  which." 

"  I  hope  it's  you,"  said  Celia. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  believe  it  is. 
However,  we  shall  know  when  the 
inspector  comes  round." 

"  If  it's  you,"  she  went  on,  "  I  shall 
send  you  in  a  file,  with  which  you  can 
cut  through  your  chains  and  escape. 
It  will  be  concealed  in  a  loaf  of  bread, 
so  that  your  gaolers  shan't  suspect." 

"  Probably  I  shouldn't  suspect  either, 
until  I  had  bitten  on  it  suddenly.  Per- 
haps you  'd  better  not  bother.  It  would 
be  simpler  if  you  got  Jane's  card 
to-morrow  instead." 

"  I  will.  That  is  to  say,  I  '11  tell 
Jane  to  get  it  herself.  It's  her  cinema 
evening  out." 

Once  a  week  Jane  leaves  us  and 
goes  to  a  cinema.  Her  life  is  full  of 
variety. 

Ten  days  elapsed,  and  then  one 

evening  I  said At  least  I  didn't. 

Before  I  could  get  it  out  Celia  inter- 
rupted : 

"No,  not  yet.  You  see,  there 's  been 
a  hitch." 

I  curbed  my  anger  and  spoke  calmly. 

"  What  sort  of  a  hitch  ?  " 

"  Well,  Jane  forgot  last  Wednesday, 
and  I  forgot  to  remind  her  this  Wed- 
nesday. But  next  Wednesday — 

"  Why  don't  you  do  it  yourself?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  '11  tell  me  what  to  do 
I  '11  do  it." 

"  Well' — er — you  just — you — I  mean 
— well,  they  '11  tell  you  at  the  post- 
oflice." 

"That's  exactly  how  I  keep  explain- 
ing it  to  Jane,"  said  Celia. 

I  looked  at  her  mournfully. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  I  asked.  "  I 
feel  quite  hopeless  about  it.  It  seems 
too  late  now  to  do  anything  with  Jane. 
Let 's  get  a  new  staff  and  begin  again 
properly." 

"  Lose  Jane  ?  "  cried  Celia.  "  I  'd 
sooner  go  to  prison — I  mean  I  'd  sooner 
yon  went  to  prison.  Why  can't  you  be 
a  man  and  do  something?  " 

Celia  doesn't  seem  to  realise  that  I 
married  her  with  the  sole  idea  of  getting 
free  of  all  this  sort  of  bother.  As  it  is 
I  nearly  die  once  a  year  in  the  attempt 
to  fill  up  my  income-tax  form.  Any 
traffic  in  insurance  cards  would  be 
absolutely  fatal. 

However,  something  had  to  be  done. 
Last  week  I  went  into  a  neighbouring 
post-office  in  order  to  send  a  telegram. 
The  post-office  is  an  annexe  of  the 
grocer's  where  the  sardines  come  from 
on  Jane's  cinema  evening.  Having 
sent  the  telegram,  I  took  a  sudden 


desperate  resolve.    I — I  myself — would 
do  something. 

"  I  want,"  I  said  bravely,  "  an 
insurance  stamp." 

"  Sixpenny  or  sevenpenny  ?  "  said  the 
girl,  trying  to  put  me  off  my  balance  at 
the  very  beginning. 

"What's  the  difference?"  I  asked. 
"  You  needn't  say  a  penny,  because  that 
is  obvious." 

However  she  had  no  wish  to  be 
funny. 

"  Sevenpenny  for  men-servants,  six- 
penny for  women,"  she  explained. 

I  wasn't  going  to  give  away  our 
domestic  arrangements  to  a  stranger. 

"  Three  sixpenny  and  four  seven- 
penny,"  I  said  casually,  flicking  the 
dust  otf  my  shoes  with  a  handkerchief. 
"  Tut,  tut,  I  was  forgetting  Thomas," 
I  added.  "  Five  sevenpenny." 

I  took  the  stamps  home  and  showered 
them  on  Celia. 

"  You  see,"  I  said,  "  it 's  not  really 
difficult." 

"  Oh,  you  angel !  What  do  I  do  with 
them  ?  " 

"  Stick  them  on  Jane,"  I  said  grandly. 
"  Dot  them  about  the  house.  Stamp 
your  letters  with  them — I  can  always 
get  you  plenty  more." 

"  Didn't  you  get  a  card,  too  ?  " 

"  N— no.  No,  I  didn't.  The  fact  is, 
it 's  your  turn  now,  Celia.  You  get  the 
card." 

"  Oh,  all  right.  I — er — suppose  you 
just  ask  for  a — a  card?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  And — er — choose  a 
doctor,  and — er — decide  on  an  approved 
society,  and — er — explain  why  it  is  you 
hadn't  got  a  card  before,  and — er — 
Well,  anyhow,  it 's  your  turn  now, 
Celia." 

"It's  really  still  Jane's  turn,"  said 
Celia,  "  only  she  's  so  stupid  about  it." 

But  she  turned  out  to  be  not  so 
stupid  as  we  thought.  For  yesterday 
there  came  a  ring  at  the  bell.  Feeling 
instinctively  that  it  was  the  inspector, 
Celia  and  I  got  behind  the  sofa  .  .  . 
and  emerged  some  minutes  later  to  find 
Jane  alone  in  the  room. 

"  Somebody  come  to  see  about  an 
insurance  card  or  something,"  she  said. 
"  I  said  you  were  both  out,  and  would 
he  come  to-morrow." 

Technically  I  suppose  we  were  both 
out.  That  is,  we  were  not  receiving. 

"  Thank  you,  Jane,"  I  said  stiffly. 
turned  to  Celia.     "  There  you  are,"  I 
said.     "  To-morrow  something  must  be 
done." 

"  I  always  said  I  'd  do  it  to-morrow," 
said  Celia.  A.  A.  M. 

"One  of  the  many  engagements  that  an: 
always  announced  at  the  close  of  the  season  is 
that  of  Mies  Constance ." — World. 

We  wish  her  better  luck  this  year. 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHA1UVA1U. 


149 


GREAT  LITERARY  SENSATION. 

DICKENS  AND  Miis.  HARRIS. 

FIND   OF   VALUABLE   LETTKR. 

VIEWS  OP  EXPERTS. 

IT  is  Mr.  Punch's  privilege  this  week 
to  throw  light  for  the  British  puhlic 
upon  one  of  the  most  interesting  secret 
chapters  in  the  history  of  our  literature. 

It  will  probably  come  as  a  surprise, 
if  not  a  shock,  to  our  readers,  howsoever 
versed  they  may  he  in  the  byways  of 
bookland,  to  learn  that  one  of  the  most 
famous  characters  in  Martin  Chuzzlewit 
not  only  had  a  prototype  in  real  life 
but  in  CHAULKS  DICKENS'S  youth  in- 
spired him  with  the  liveliest  feelings. 

It  is  common  knowledge  that 
DICKENS  was  born  at  Portsmouth. 
Whether  or  not  the  lady  whom  after- 
wards he  described  for  mankind  as  Mrs. 
Harris  was  born  there  too,  we  cannot 
say,  nor  indeed  has  research  yet  yielded 
her  maiden  name ;  but  the  irrefragable 
fact  remains  that  at  some  time  during 
his  adolescence  the  young  genius  soon 
to  dazzle  the  world  as  "  Boz  "  expressed 
the  warmest  admiration  for  a  mysterious 
lady  unnamed,  and  all  the  evidence  goes 
to  prove  that  it  was  she  whom  later  in 
life  he  rendered  immortal  in  the  pages 
of  Martin  Chuzzleivit.  There  is  no 
direct  evidence,  but  if  ever  circum- 
stantial evidence  spoke  the  truth  it 
speaks  it  here. 

The  letter  which  has  been  placed 
in  our  hands  is  so  surrounded  with 
mystery  that  we  can  say  little  that  is 
definite ;  we  are  not  even  at  liberty  to 
state  from  what  source  it  comes.  Let 
it  suffice  that  we  are  ourselves  satisfied 
with  the  bona  fides  of  the  present 
owners,  who  are  beyond  question  the 
descendants  of  Mrs.  Harris,  although 
that  is  no  more  their  name  than  it  was 
hers.  DICKENS,  the  soul  of  honour  and 
delicacy,  could  never  have  used  a  real 
name ;  nor  shall  we.  At  the  most  we 
may  say  that  the  representatives  of  the 
family  are  now  residing  in  a  picturesque 
Spanish  chateau,  and  that  they  have 
placed  in  our  hands  this  document, 
hitherto  so  jealously  guarded  from  the 
puhlic  eye,  to  do  as  we  like  with. 

Before  coming  to  the  letter  itself  let 
us  consider  for  a  few  moments  the 
character  of  Mrs.  Harris.  For  one 
thing  she  is  never  seen.  All  that  we 
know  of  her  we  know  by  hearsay.  Her 
friend,  Mrs.  Gamp  (one  of  the  leading 
nurses  of  her  time),  testifies  to  her  exist- 
ence and  her  good  sense  and  sympathy, 
otherwise  we  should  know  nothing. 

It  is  the  same  in  the  letter'.  Even  as 
a  younger  woman  she  still  was  mys- 
terious. DICKENS  seems  to  have  treated 
her  rather  as  an  ideal — shall  we  say  a 
Grail? — than  as  an  entity  of  flesh  and 
blood.  It  was  years  after  this  letter 


Aunt  Jane.  "REALLY,    GLADYS,   THE    BATHING   DRESSES   YOU   GIRLS   WEAR   ARE   DIS- 
GRACEFUL.    LOOK  AT  ME  ;    DO  I  SHOW  MY  FIGURE?" 


that  he  wrote  Martin  Chuzzlcivit,  yet 
he  forgot  nothing.  Mrs.  Harris,  as  he 
then  called  the  object  of  his  early  pas- 
sion, is  still  vague,  impalpable;  but 
through  the  vivid  eyes  of  her  friend, 
Mrs.  Gamp,  we  see  her  older,  wiser. 

The  letter  is  dated  April  1,  1828. 
DICKENS,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
born  in  1812,  and  was  thus  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  sixteen— a  notoriously 
inflammable  age. 

We  should  premise  that  the  italics  in 
it  are  our  own ;  but  were  ever  phrases 
more  significant  read  in  the  light  of 
after  events  ?  After  perusing  the  letter 
the  reader  will  more  than  ever  wonder 
how  it  came  to  be  preserved.  Though 
they  may  not  be  responsible  for  this, 
the  heirs  of  DICKENS  are  surely  its 
legal  owners. 

But  here  is  the  precious  document : — 

BELOVED, — If  only  I  knew  who  you 
were  and  what  you  looked  like  how  much 


happier  I  should  be !  Yet  should  I  ? 
This  is  a  question  which  I  ponder 
throughout  the  watches  of  the  night. 
To  love  an  unknown  is  to  palpitate  in 
the  presence  of  every  woman.  I  do  not 
even  know  if  you  will  get  this  letter, 
since  if  I  put  no  address  on  it  how  can 
it  ever  reach  you  ?  And  how  can  I  put 
an  address  if  I  do  not  know  one?  I  do 
not  even  know  that  you  exist  at  all, 
but  it  relieves  my  feelings  to  address 
you  thus.  If  ever  I  can  make  you 
famous  trust  me  to  do  so.  At  present 
I  am  all  at  sea  about  my  future,  but 
should  I  at  any  time  take,  as  I  some- 
times dream  of  doing,  to  fiction,  you 
may  rely  upon  being  owe  of  my  dearest 
heroines. 

Fond  charmer,  farewell. 

Your  adoring     C.  D. 


Proofs  of  the  above  article  having 
been  sent  to  various  of  those  eminent 


150 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


Actor.   "I  MUST  INSIST  OS   BEING   PAID  FOR  BEHSABSAL8." 

Manager.  "WHAT  ox  EARTH  FOB?    I  NEVER  HEARD  OF  SUCH  A  THING." 

Aden-.    "BECAUSE  LATELY    I  *VE    HAD    SO    MANY    SIX  WEEKS'   REHEARSALS  FOE   A  TEN   DAYS*    RUN.      Bui  I   DON'T   MIND   GIVING  THE 
PERFORMANCES   FREE." 


men  whose  opinion  on  everything  is 
so  valuable,  we  are  in  the  fortunate 
position  of  being  able  to  print  a  selection 
of  their  comments. 

Sir  WILLIAM  BOBERTSON  NICOLL 
writes:  "Since  the  BRONTE  bombshell 
fell  and  proved  once  and  for  all  that 
CHARLOTTE  did  not  invent  her  Pro- 
fessor, there  has  been  nothing  so  epoch- 
making  as  the  discovery  of  .  the 
Dickens-Hams  romance.  As  an  old 
student  of  Martin  Chuzzlcivit,  which  I 
first  read  in  a  corner  of  the  Manse 
library  at  Fecclewonish,  near  Canter- 
bury, in  the  green  monthly  parts  in 
which  it  was  issued,  I  must  confess 
that  the  revelation  is  no  surprise  to  me, 
for  there  are  words  in  which  DICKENS 
refers  to  this  romantic  lady  which 
either  meant  something  or  nothing. 
But  I  can  understand  that  to  the  mass 
of  readers  the  story  will  be  startling. 
The  thanks  of  the  whole  world  are  due 
to  Punch  for  its  enterprise." 

Sir  CLEMENT  SHORTER  writes  :  "  Al- 
though not  interested  as  a  rule  in  other 


students'  discoveries,  I  must  admit  to 
feeling  a  flush  of  excitement  as  I  per- 
used this  absorbing  letter.  Probably 
no  one  in  either  hemisphere  has  a  finer 
collection  than  myself  of  books  relat- 
ing to  the  wizard  of  Gadshill,  which 
occupy  exactly  eighty-three  shelves  of 
the  hovel  in  which  I  take  shelter  when 
the  toils  of  the  day  are  do*he." 

Sir  GILBERT  PARKER  writes :  "  As 
one  of  the  most  prolific  of  modern 
novelists  may  I  say  that  the  story  of 
the  young  DICKENS'S  infatuation  for  this 
lady  is  well  within  the  bounds  of 
credibility.  Most  youths  destined  one 
day  to  enthral  their  fellows  by  the 
magic  of  the  written  word  would  have 
to  plead  guilty  to  similar  periods  of 
enamourment.  I  recollect —  "  [Next, 
please. — ED.] 

Mr.  FRANK  HARRIS  writes :  "  An 
absorbing  narrative.  .  .  .  But  she  was, 
strange  to  say,  no  relation  of  mine,  nor 
did  I  ever  interview  her." 

Mr.  T.  P.  O'CONNOR,  M.P.,  writes: 
"  A  more  astounding  pageant  of  heart- 


beats never  found  its  way  to  paper.  All 
our  ideas  of  DICKENS  must  be  revised 
by  the  light  of  this  supreme  discovery." 
Mr.  HALL  CAINE  writes  :  "  Weary  as 
I  am  from  the  task  of  putting  forth 
another  earth-shaking  romance,  1  may, 
I  trust,  be  excused  from  entering 
minutely  into  this  matter.  It  was  my 
privilege  to  know  DICKENS  personally, 
and  he  always  struck  me  as  a  man  in 
whose  deep  recesses  in  early  youth  a 
fierce  fire  might  have  glowed,  leaving 
behind  it  such  scars  and  cicatrices  as  an 
unrequited  passion  is  known  by  masters 
of  the  human  heart  to  cause.  1  say  no 
more,  except  that  an  analysis  of  certabi 
cognate  effects  of  the  emotion  ot  lovu 
will  be  found  in  my  new  novel,  which 
has  just  succeeded  in  getting  noiselessly 
born  into  a  hard  world." 


"  Two  boys,  Oundlc  and  Tonbrid^o,  tied  for 
the  Spencer  Cup.    In  the  shoot  of!  the  Cup  \va; 
von  by  Oundle." — Eastern  1'rmincc  J! 
Young    Master   Gigglesw-ick    was  un.- 
placed. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIVABL— AvftVM  13,  1913. 


JESCUIAPIUS    IN    LONDON. 


LOOK  AS  IF   YOU   KNEW 
ALL    ABOUT    MICROBES,    SIR.     COULDN'T    YOU    FIND    ME    AN    ANTIDOTE    TO    THIS?" 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


153 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FUOM  TUB  DIAIIY  OP  TODY,  M.I'.) 
House  of  Commons,  Monday,  A  ugust  4. 
—Bank  Holiday ;  shops  shut ;  banks 
closed ;  City  empty ;  all  the  world 
abroad  in  search  of  amusement. 
GKNKKATJ  CARSON  finds  his  in  Ulster 
•where  he  has  stirred  the  population  to 
profounder  depths  by  hinting  at  issim 
of  warrant  for  his  arrest  by  "  this 
wretched,  rotten,  discredited  and  hire- 
ling Government." 

"  Let  them  come  on,"  said  the  Defiant 
Covenanter.  "  I  know  nothing  about 
their  intentions.  I  care  less." 

Bather  spoiled  effect  of  this  bold 
declaration  by  the  aside,  "It  may  be  true 


"  The  Defiant  Covenanter." 
they  have  issued  a  warrant.    One  thing 
I  feel  certain  of  is    they   will   never 
execute  it." 

Following  general  example  House  of 
Lords  is  literally  shut  up.  Peers  off 
to  Hampstead  or  Greenwich  bant  on 
making  a  day  of  it.  Only  the  Commons, 
dogged  in  industry,  loyal  to  call  of  duty, 
go  on  with  their  work  as  if  Bank 
Holiday  were  not. 

Cannot  say  we  are  inconveniently 
crowded.  Gaps  on  both  sides,  in- 
cluding two  front  benches.  When 
SPEAKER  took  Chair  one  quarter  of 
House  was,  by  exception,  thronged  to 
fullest  capacity.  This  the  Distinguished 
Strangers'  Gallery  appropriated  at 
opening  of  sittings  to  accommoda- 
tion of  Parliamentary  agents  in  charge 
of  Private  Bills.  As  usual  in  last  fort- 
night of  a  session  there  is  accumulation 
of  these  measures.  U  rgent  anxiety  to 
get  them  through  before  Prorogation. 


- 
"  Peers  off  to  Hampstead." 

Fully  a  score  stand  on  Order  of  the 
Day  awaiting  permission  to  advance  a 
stage.  In  ordinary  circumstances  this 
would  be  agreed  to  as  matter  of  course. 
Circumstances  to-day  not  ordinary. 
TIM  HEALY  is  interested  in  a  Bill  pro- 
moted by  Urban  District  authority  of 
Kingstown  to  provide  electric  lighting 
for  the  town.  Board  of  Trade  elimi- 
nated this  provision. 

TIM,  accustomed  to  trace  untoward 
circumstances  back  to  Source  of  All 
Evil,  discovers  in  this  procedure  hand 
of  JOHN  REDMOND.  Why  or  where- 
fore no  one  out  of  Ireland  can  say. 
However  it  be,  suspicion  suffices  to 
bring  TIM  up  in  arms. 

"  If  they  put  out  our  light,"  ho 
grimly  says,  "  I  '11  put  out  everybody 
else's." 

Good  as  his  word.  As  Clerk  at 
Table  read  out  list  of  Private  Bills 
with  proposal  that  they  should  be  read 
a  third  time,  TIM,  half  rising  from 
his  seat  and  politely  removing  his  hat, 
murmured,  "I  object." 

That  sufficed.  The  wisdom  of  Par- 
liament in  this  respect  provides  no 


appeal  against  dictum  of  a  single 
member,  animated  by  whatsoever  per- 
sonal motive.  One  by  one  the  Bills 
were  blocked.  The  end  reached,  the 
Parliamentary  agents  slowly  filed  out 
of  Gallery,  despair  written  on  their 
brows,  dejection  enfeebling  their  foot- 
steps. Spectacle  calculated  to  move 
the  hardest  heart. 

"  Sorry  for  them,"  said  TIM.  "  Good 
chaps,  I  'm  sure,  and  I  don't  care 
tuppence  about  their  Gas  and  Water 
Bills.  I  'm  concerned  only  for  Kings- 
town's little  scheme.  They  'd  better 
call  and  see  JOHN  REDMOND  and  come 
back  to-morrow." 

Business  done.  —  Report  Stage  of 
Supply  closed.  Four  million  sterling 
voted  as  rapidly  as  questions  put  from 
the  Chair. 

Tuesday. — Ever  since  last  Wednes- 
day, when  five  stout  Unionists  were 
discovered  in  a  single  bathroom,  in 
preparation  for  a  snap  division,  what 
time  the  Terrace  silently  filled  with 
figures  entering  on  tiptoe  through  the 
passage  leading  from  the  Speaker's 
Courtyard,  Ministerial  Whips  have 
been  in  state  of  feverish  perturbation. 
Ambuscade  defeated  only  by  rarest  turn 
of  luck.  Whisper  of  the  plot  reached 
Whips'  Room  just  before  dinner  hour. 
Extraordinary  effort  succeeded  in 
mustering  a  majority.  As  it  was  it  ran 
down  to  thirty-three. 

Reported  that  at  least  one  more 
attempt  will  be  made  on  this  lofty  piano 
of  opposition  to  defeat  Government 
before  Prorogation.  Accordingly,  in 
these  closing  days  of  a  session  un- 
speakably wearying,  Ministerialists  are 
not  only  brought  down  every  day  in  full 
number;  they  are  throughout  the  sitting 
shepherded  with  assiduity  that  prevents 
escape.  Bitterness  of  the  cup  aggra- 
vated by  discovery  that  Opposition 
Benches  remain  half -empty.  When 
division  bell  rings  less  than  a  hundred 
saunter  into  Opposition  Lobby,  whilst 


Tm  HEALT  holds  up  a  few  Bills. 


154 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred  I  oldest.      The  best  part  of  a  life  now 
weary  patriots  troop  into  the  other.          drifting  on  to  limit  of  three-score-years- 
Th'is  circumstance  obviously  does  not :  and  -  ten    was    spent    in     tumultuous 
alter  the  situation.    Bather  it  imposes  career  of  War  Correspondent.     Priva- 


increase  of  precaution.  A  few  nights 
of  this  kind  of  thing  has  inevitable 
tendency  to  disarm  suspicion  and 
slacken  "effort.  That  done,  the  bath- 
rooms may  again  on  eve  of  critical 


division  become  inconveniently 
lated,    and    the     darkened 
Ten-ace  swarm  afresh  with 
ghostlike    figures   watchful 
for  signal  to  rush  the  House. 

'Tis  a  noble  game,  main- 
taining loftiest  traditions 
of  Mother  of  Parliaments. 
One  sometimes  marvels 
what  that  shrewd  observer 
the  Man  in  the  Street  thinks 
about  it. 

Business  done.  —  The 


tion  suffered  in  discharge  of  duties  in 
field  and  camp  that  won  for  him  high 
place  in  world  of  journalism  undermined 
his  health,  leaving  him  in  condition 
approaching  physical  helplessness. 


popu- >!      Does  not  often  come  down  to  fill  the 


"Parliamentary  agent* 
their  brows." 


slowly  filed  out  of  gallery,  despa 


MEMBER  FOB  SARK  gives  notice  of  a !  seat  reserved  for  him  by   easy  access 
Bill  to  amend  The  Public  Washhouses  from   door    under   Strangers'    Gallery. 


and  Baths"  Act.  •  Seems  hopeless  to 
endeavour  at  this  period  of  session  to 
attempt  fresh  legislation.  SARK  ex- 
plains that  it  is  a  one-clause  measure 
prohibiting  overcrowding  of  bathrooms. 
Even  if  it  is  blocked  its  introduction 
will  serve  good  purpose  since  it  will 
thereupon  be  printed  and  circulated, 
affording  opportunity 
during  the  Recess. 


for    reflection 


Sometimes  talks  of  retiring  from  scene 
familiar  for  more  than  thirty  years. 
Colleagues  will  not  hear  of  such  thing. 
As  long  as  he  likes  to  hold  the  seat  his 
constituents  will  return  him,  and  his 
comrades  at  Westminster  will  welcome 
him.  So  when  his  presence  is  required 
for  critical  division  his  name  is  found 


in  list  of  voters. 

From   moment   he   appears   on   the 
TIM  HEALY  triumphs  over  Board  of  I  scene  till   he   quits  ifc   he  is  attended 


Trade  in  respect  of  their  meddling 
with  the  Kingstown  private  Bill. 
Friendly  understanding  arrived  at, 
other  private  Bills  will  be  allowed  to 
make  progress. 

Friday. — A  few  days  ago  BONNER 
LAW  publicly  confessed  that  House  of 
Commons  is  rapidly  losing  its  interest. 
In  measure  the  statement  is  incontest- 
able. Various  explanations  might  be 
offered.  Most  obvious  is  change  of 
personnel,  marked  in  especial  degree  on 
Front  Opposition  Bench.  Have  known 
the  place  longer  even  than  BONNER 
LAW.  Man  and  boy  have  lived  in 
closest  intimacy  with  it  for  full  forty 
years.  Confess  to  occasional  fleeting 
mood  of  impatience  at  recurrent  in- 
tervals of  dulness.  But  aufond  House 
remains  what  it  always  has  been,  a 
marvellous  microcosm  of  humanity. 
In  common  with  humanity  it  suffers 
from  a  tendency  to  descend  to  pettiness 
of  manner.  But  it  is  capable  of  rising 
to  loftiest  heights. 

Just  heard  of  little  incident  that 
illustrates  its  multiform  character. 
Hesitate  to  set  it  forth  in  cold  print. 
Seems  too  intimate  to  gossip  about,  yet 
too  charming  to  hide. 

In  the  ranks  of  one  of  the  sections 
of  Party  which  make  up  conglomerate 
of  the  House  is  a  Member  who  in 
point  of  service  ranks 


with  watchful  solicitude  by  the  Party 
Whip.  Setting  aside  other  engage- 
ments, howsoever  important,  this  busy 
gentleman  guides  his  faltering  footsteps, 
looks  after  his  evening  meal,  sits  by 
him  as  he  partakes  of  it,  helpful  as  a 
nurse  with  a  little  child. 

As  was  said  of  a  gentleman  accus- 
tomed to  dye  his  hair,  the  House  of 
Commons  is  not  so  black  as  it  is 
sometimes  painted. 

Business  done. — In  Committee  on 
new  Marconi  Contract. 


Opinions  differ  about  the  value  of 
the  Medical  Congress.  The  proprietor 
of  one  of  our  well-known  remedies  for 
every  disease  under  the  sun  declares 
emphatically  that  it  is  a  great  waste 
of  time  and  money,  being  entirely 
unnecessary. 

The  other  day  a  remarkable  incident 
occurred  in  the  Tube.  A  mother  and 
her  child  were  there  ;  also 
a  benign-looking  gentleman 
with  a  Burmese  cast  of 
countenance.  The  child,  a 
sickly-looking  boy  of  some 
seven  summers,  being  no 
lover  of  Eastern  peoples  and 
ignorant  of  Western  man- 
ners, slowly  but  surely  put 
out  his  tongue  at  the  foreign 
ir  written  on  gentleman.  The  wanderer 
from  Burma  gazed  long  and 
'  intently  at  the  tongue,  then  pursed  his 
lips  and  shook  his  head  gravely.  Utter- 
ing a  few  polite  words  in  Burmese  he 
leaned  forward  and  grasped  the  wrist  of 
the  child,  whose  howl  of  terror  intimated 
to  his  mother  that  something  was 
taking  place.  Before  the  train  drew  up 
at  the  next  station,  the  mother  in- 
formed the  Burmese  gentleman  that  he 
was  a  foreign  kidnapper,  that  it  was  no 
use  to  raise  his  hat,  that  if  she  had  had 
her  umbrella  with  her  she  would  have 
known  what  to  do  with  it,  that  in 
future  be  should  hit  one  of  his  own  size, 
that  it  was  disgraceful,  and  that  she 
was  getting  out  to  inform  the  station- 
master.  But  for  her  haste  her  child 
might  have  had  administered  to  him 
some  potent  Burmese  pill  that  would 
have  sufficed  to  save  her  any  further 
medical  expense  on  her  offspring's 
behalf. 


MEDICAL    CONGEESS   NOTES. 

LONDON  is  in  danger  of  being  over- 
doctored.  You  can't  be  knocked  down 
by  the  simplest  motor  -  bus  without 
seven  or  eight  of  its  occupants  alight- 
ing rapidly  to  feel  you  over,  set 
your  broken  limbs,  and  take  your 
temperature  in  seven  or  eight  different 
languages. 


A  bright  young  pharmaceutical 
chemist,  with  experience  of  the  pre- 
scriptions of  our  most  eminent  phy- 
sicians, has  been  kept  quite  busy  by 
the  principal  hotels  in  deciphering  the 
signatures  of  certain  of  their  medical 
guests  written  in  the  registers,  and  has 
made  a  small  fortune  out  of  the  fees 


the   he  has  received. 


TO  A  REASONABLE  BEING. 

LADY,  I  do  not  even  know  your  name, 

Yet  is  my  heart  bereft  of  its  repose, 

Since  in  the  lift  to-day  your  hat-brim 

came 
In   sudden  contact  with  the  poet's 

nose. 
'Twas  not  your  face's  beauty  wove  the 

spell ; 

I  did  not  see  it,  and  you  best  can  tell 
If  after  all  that  was  not  just  as  well. 

'Twas  not  your  taste  in  dress.    The  hat- 
brim  hid 

Even  your  summer  costume  from  my 
view. 

It  was  not  anything  you  said  or  did. 
Lady,  the  sole  sufficing  charm  of  you 

Was  that  your  hat-pins,  merciful  and 
wise, 

Were  fashioned  to  so  sensible  a  si/.o 

I  brushed  yoii  close  and  still  retained 
my  eyes. 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


155 


• 


Mrs.  Smith  (to  Smith  who,  starting  for  his  annual  "rest  cure,"  is  making  a  frantic  rtish  for  the  train). 

LOCKED  UP  THE  HOUSE  ?" 


1  JOHN  !  ABE  YOU  suns  YCO 


TWO  FATHERS  TO  TWO 
DAUGHTERS. 

[A  memb3r  of  tho  London  Education  Com- 
mittee suggested  at  a  recent  meeting  that  tho 
Essays  of  Elia  was  hardly  tho  kind  of  book 
to  be  put  in  the  hands  of  young  women 
students.] 

I. 

"  WHAT,  reading  ?    An  improving  book, 
I  trust  ?     Corne,  let  your  father  look. 

LAMB?     And   who's   LAMB,   my   dear 

Maria  ? 
What  are  the  Essays  of  Elia  ? 

I  open  straight  away  on  'd — n.' 
For  shame !     Away  with  Mr.  LAMB  ! 

'Chimney-sweeps,'  '  Beggars,'  'Actors,' 

'  Whist ' ! 
A  scandal  to  the  Library  list ! 

What  ?    He 's  a  classic  ?     More 's  the 

pity ! 
I  shall  complain  to  the  Committee." 

(lie  docs.) 
ii. 

"  I  send  you,  mia  cara  figlia, 
Tho  volume  of  the  gentle  Elia, 

Also  a  cutting,  -which  at  least 
May  lend  a  relish  to  the  feast. 

tor  Mr.  Podsnap  is  not  dead  : 
His  brains  alone  are  lapt  in  lead. 


He  lives,  he  lives,  though  sorely  spent ; 
We  shrug  our  shoulders,  and  lament 

The  tyranny  not  overpast 
Of  Philistine  and  agelast. 

Well,  well !     While  Mr.  P.  must  cease, 
And  fade  like  old  John  Naps  of  Greece, 

Still  Ella's  wit  and  Ella's  way 
Shall  strike  a  blies  upon  the  day 

For  girls  to  whom  the  postman  brings 
These  dear '  unlicked,  incondite  things.' " 

THE  MONEY  COLUMN 
(As  it  appears  to  one  who  knoivs  nothing 

about  it). 
FEATURELESS  MARKETS. 

1,000,  Threadnecdle  Street,  E.G. 

The  commencement  of  a  new  account 
combined  with  the  imminence  of  the 
settlement  gave  the  stock  markets 
generally  a  somewhat  unsettled  appear- 
ance. To  these  were  added  some  appre- 
hension over  the  reported  outbreak  of 
jpeace  in  the  Balkans. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not 
surprising  that  Consols  showed  an 
'irregular  tendency,  finally  ending  the 
turn  lower.  Other  gilt-edged  securities 
moved  in  sympathy,  much  of  the  gilt 
having  been  by  this  time  discounted. 
Home  Rails,  despite  the  expanding 


influence  of  the  recent  hot  weather, 
remained  without  decided  movement; 
the  chief  feature  being  Underground 
Issues,  which  were  inclined  to  rise. 
Bulgarian  Four-and-a-Half  were  un- 
changed: home-brewed  ditto  however 
being  lowered  freely  all  round.  In  the 
American  Market,  Trunks  were  largely 
enquired  for,  especially  by  Customs 
officials.  Yarns  were,  if  possible,  h  igher. 
Cements  remained  firm.  Marconis 
wero  not  mentioned. 

The  action  of  the  Bank  in  restricting 
facilities  for  withdrawal  was  adversely 
commented  upon,  especially  by  a  gentle- 
man who  was  asked  to  accompany  a 
cashier  to  the  police  station  in  conse- 
quence. Several  important  calls  were 
paid,  mostly  between  3  and  5.  The 
Egyptian  Exchange  fell  off,  but  was 
happily  undamaged.  Throughout  the 
day  the  Rubber  market  presented  a 
welcome  exception  to  the  general  un- 
certainty of  tone,  the  leaders  shedding 
their  customary  quarter  with  absolute 
Tegularity.  The  material  remains  raw ; 
company  balance-sheets  being  however, 
in  many  cases,  distinctly  the  opposite. 

After  the  House  was  closed,  there 
was  a  universal  set-back  by  the  care- 
takers; but  the  street  market  was 
animated,  bananas  and  collar-studs 
being  in  brisk  demand. 


150 


ruNcir, 


OR 


TJIK  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


PAGES   FROM   THE    DIARY   OF 

A   FLY. 
(lit/  our  Charivcariely  Article.') 


K  in  Town  again,  and,  by  Jove, 
it  's  good  to  be  there  !  Feeling  some- 
what run  down,  I  decided,  the  other 
day,  to  try  the  effect  of  a  whiff  of 
country  air.  So  1  flew  to  Waterloo, 
entered  an  empty  first-class  carriage  —  I 
did  not  feel  well  enough  for  company- 
settled  myself  comfortably  in  a  corner  of 
the  well-padded  seat,  and  got  out  at  the 
first  wayside  station  that  took  my 
fancy.  But  Town  for  me;  Country's 
a  rotten  hole.  Nothing  there  but  a  lot 
of  stupid  scenery  and  doltish  animals. 
Too  many  birds,  too,  making  darts  at 
you.  What  their  grievance  against  us 
is  1  don't  know.  It  was  different  with 
a  silly  sow  who  snapped  at  me  one  day. 
There  is  a  saying,  "If  pigs  could  fly  .  .  ." 
The  clumsy  brutes  can't,  of  course, 
while  we  flies  can  pig  —  see  us  in  a 
confectioner's  shop  —  and  that  's  what 
makes  them  jealous. 

Taking  it  all  in  all,  Country  is  an 
unexciting,  sleepy  place,  and  I  have  no 
use  for  it.  So,  feeling  better,  except 
for  a  slight  sore  throat,  I  boarded  a 
train  again  this  morning,  and  here  I 
am  back  again  in  dear  old  London.  I 
always  travel  by  rail  in  spite  of  its 
being  a  somewhat  old-fashioned  method 
of  locomotion  —  but  I  am  a  beggar  for 
comfort.  A  fly  friend  of  mine  went  to 
Brighton,  the  other  day,  free  of  expense, 
sitting  on  a  motor-car.  But  he  bad  to 
hang  on  like  grim  death  all  the  time  ; 
the  thing  went  at  such  a  pace  that  he 
was  more  than  once  nearly  blown  off. 
His  poor  eyes  became  so  inflamed  that 
he  was  a  sight  for  days  afterwards,  and 
he  caught  the  cold  of  his  life. 

I  am  staying  at  Lord  Belchester's 
mansion  in  Piccadilly.  That  is  one 
advantage  that  we  flies  enjoy.  All  the 
best  houses  are  open  to  us,  and  we  can 
leave  when  we  get  bored.  I  fancy  I 
shall  stay  here  some  time,  for  it  is  a 
well-appointed  house  with  a  capital 
larder,  and  the  position  is  convenient, 
being  near  to  both  St.  James's  and 
Hyde  Parks,  which  are  so  handy  when 
one  wants  a  breather. 

After  a  feed  in  the  larder  and  a  rest 
on  the  drawing-room  sofa,  where  I 
sprawled  at  full  length  for  over  an  hour, 
I  felt  fit  for  anything.  So  I  sought 
out  the  house-dog,  dear  old  Rover.  I 
found  him  trying  to  get  to  sleep  in 
the  library.  I  did  the  most  hazardous 
things.  I  tickled  his  nozzle,  and  once 
I  sailed  right  through  his  open  mouth, 
he  snapping  his  jaws  just  after  I  was 
the  other  side  of  him.  Once  or  twice 
the  dear  old  fellow  tried  strategy.  Ho 
would  pretend  suddenly  to  have  fallen 


into  a  sound  sleep,  hoping  to  catch  me 
that  way,  but  naturally  1  saw  the  one 
eye  open.  Finally  I  settled  on  the 
lower  part  of  one  of  the  window  panes. 
He  rushed  at  it,  attempted  to  crush  me 
with  his  great  fat  paw,  of  course  missed 
me,  but  broke  the  window,  cut  his  paw, 
and  no  doubt  later  on  got  a  sound 
thrashing  from  his  master. 

After  that  I  went  and  plagued  a  beast 
of  a  yellow  cat  named  Tabby  Ochre,  who 
lay  in  front  of  the  kitchen  fire.  This 
was  perhaps  more  enjoyable  than  dog- 
bailing,  for  with  a  cat  there  is  always 
an  element  of  danger,  and  that  makes 
it  real  sport.  However,  in  spite  of  the 
snakiness  and  celerity  of  her  move- 
ments, Tabby  Ochre  never  got  me,  and 
I  left  her  in  a  deuce  of  a  temper,  saying 
to  myself,  "Heaven  save  the  mouse 
who  comes  her  way  within  the  next 
two  hours." 

I  think  that  my  country  trip  must 
have  done  me  more  good  'than  I 
imagined,  I  feel  so  well  and  fit  and 
frolicsome  to-day. 

I  decided  I  would  now  go  back  and 
chaff  poor  old  Rover.  So  to  the  library, 
where,  however,  I  found  much  bigger 
game.  Asleep  in  a  chair,  with  a  book 
in  his  lap — he  is  a  well-known  book- 
lover — was  my  lord  himself.  He  had 
the  most  lovely  bald  head  I  have  ever 
hit  upon.  It  is  perfectly  smooth  and 
shiny.  It  is  astonishing  how  bald  heads 
vary.  It  is  the  exception  to  find  one 
without  a  blemish.  Some  of  them  are 
most  miserable  objects,  absolutely  lack- 
ing in  polish  and  with  unexpected 
hillocks  springing  up  here  and  there. 
Lord  Belchester  has  the  perfect  cranium 
one  might  expect  from  a  man  of  his 
wealth  and  position.  I  had  Winter 
Sports  on  it — some  of  the  finest  skating 
and  tobogganing  that  have  ever  come 
my  way.  My  word,  but  my  lord  did 
get  angry !  And  what  amused  me  was 
that  he  was  not  a  bit  more  clever  at  it 
than  old  Rover.  Every  now  and  then 
he  gave  himself  a  violent  slap  on  the 
head  with  his  hand,  hoping  I  would  go 
pfutt  under  it,  but,  of  course,  I  always 
saw  the  hand  coming,  and  he  must 
have  got  a  sad  head-ache.  And  he 
threw  his  valuable  book  at  rne,  missing 
me  but  ruining  the  book.  Finally  he 
rang  the  bell  for  his  chief  flunkey. 
"  Yes,  m'lord  ?  "  asked  that  gloomy 
functionary.  "  Glanders,  kill  that 
fly,"  said  his  lordship.  "Very  well, 
m'lord,"  said  Glanders.  That  made 
me  feel  quite  important.  I  was  flat- 
tered that  this  gorgeous  and  dignified 
personage  should  be  told  off  to  have  a 
game  with  me,  and  I  gave  Glanders 
a  great  time.  He  fell  over  a  chair, 
broke  two  valuable  Chiny  vases,  and 
finally  when,  out  of  sheer  devilry,  I 
settled  for  a  second  on  the  bald  head 


again,  he  lost  his,  and  brought  a  hand 
down  on  my  lord's  pate  with  such 
force  that  the  pompous  ass  was  dis- 
missed on  the  spot.  Then,  as  the 
game  was  beginning  to  pall  on  me,  I 
flew  out  of  the  window,  through  the 
hole  Rover  had  made,  roaring  with 
laughter,  into  the  sunshine. 

In  the  open,  as  I  ilew  along,  I  medi- 
tated on  men  and  their  ways.  How 
impotent  they  are !  Size  is  by  no 
means  everything.  Why,  these  stupid 
giants  cannot  even  walk  on  the  ceiling 
or  crawl  up  a  wall.  The  smug  self- 
satisfaction  of  men  amuses  me  when- 
ever I  think  of  it.  I  really  believe  they 
consider  themselves  our  superiors. 

While  I  was  pondering  these  tilings 
I  suddenly  heard  a  voice  behind  me 
cry,  "  W7hy,  it 's  Leslie !  How  are  you, 
dear?  I  haven't  seen  you  for  ages." 
I  turned  round  and  saw  Editha,  an  old 
flame  of  mine,  of  whom  I  had  tired 
long  ago.  I  looked  at  her  and  won- 
dered how  I  could  ever  have  been  in 
love  with  her.  She  had  fine  eyes,  it  is 
true,  but  bandy  legs,  and  altogether 
she  looked  a  dowd ;  one  of  her  wings 
was  actually  in  boles.  "  Do  go  away, 
please,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  want  to  be 
interrupted.  I  am  thinking."  With  a 
sigh  she  dropped  behind.  Lord,  how 
she  has  lost  her  looks !  And  to  think 
that  she  was  once  known  as  "  The 
Merry  Widow"!  Poor  thing!  What 
is  there  about  me,  I  wonder,  that 
makes  me  so  confoundedly  attractive 
to  the  other  sex  ?  I  suppose  they  like 
me  because  I  am  such  a  dare-devil. 
Still,  it  has  its  advantages.  It  enables 
me  to  pick  and  choose,  and,  if  it  were 
not  that  these  lines  may  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  young,  I  could  tell  a  tale 
or  two  of  amours  low  and  high. 
(To  be  continued.) 


AT    A    MATRIMONIAL   AGENCY. 

(Meeting  after  Correspondence.) 
"  HE  comes ;  a  wild,  ecstatic  thrill 

Consumes  my  heart,  and  sudden  fire 
Burns  in  a  cheek  unravished  still — • 

Can  this  be  William  Jones,  Esquire?" 

"  So  she  is  there,  and  I  must  take 
Her  hand  in  mine  and  say  the  word. 

But  must  I  ?     There  is  some  mistake. 
Can  this  be  Arabella  Bird? " 

O  married  life  of  mutual  doubt ! 

O  secret  shame !     Forbear  to  laugh, 
Since  each  had  sinned  in  sending  out 

Another  person's  photograph. 


"This  ceremony  concluded,  tea  was  taken 
in  the  shady  Fellows'  garden." 

Daily  Telegraph. 

In  our  pupillary  state  we  always  had 
our  suspicions  of  these  Fellows. 


AOGUBT  13,  1913.]  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  157 


OH  LOOKING  CLOSELY  AT  THE  HOLD, 


IP  YOU 

POTT  IN  TH 
ORDINARY  >Y 


OB  NOT  LOOKISO 
AT  EITHER. 


Yon  MIGHT 

THY  ONE   HAND, 


OR  (BEING  ON  A 
HOLIDAY)  THIS? 


THIS,   AGAIN,   IB  EXCELLENT  Of 
DBX   WEATUEB. 


WE  DON'T  RECOMMEND  THIS, 
BCI  YOU  MIGHT  TBY  IT  I 


HOLIDAY   PUTTS. 

MS.   PVXCU'S  ADVICE  TO  THOSE   WHO  FIND  THEMSELVES    "OFF"   THIS   BBANCB   OF  THE   GAME. 


158 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


THE  LAKE. 

"  OH,"  said  Francesca,  "  that  hurt." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  I  said,  "  I  had  to  slap  your  face, 
was  a  horse-fly  feeding  on  your  damask  cheek." 

"  But  you  needn't  have  slapped  so  hard." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "1  need.  These  Swiss  horse-flies  are 
desperate  fellows.  A  mere  handful  of  them  can  kill  a  cow. 
Francesca,  I  would  not  have  you  perish  in  your  prime." 

"  But  why,"  she  said,  "  are  you  stopping  again  ?  At  this 
rate  we  shall  never  get  to  Lac  Lioson.  Come,  pull  yourself 
together.  The  children  are  far  ahead  out  of  sight." 

"  Let  them,"  I  said,  "  remain  out  of  sight.  They  have  no 
families,  no  husbands,  no  wives,  no  five-franc  pieces,  no 
heavy  boots,  no  cares  of  any  kind ;  and  they  have  Arthur 
with  them.  Arthur  is  the  best  of  fellows.  He  will  look 
after  them." 

"  Get  up,"  she  said,  "  and  let  us  press  on." 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  not  yet.  In  two  minutes  we  will  resume 
our  climb.  It  is  the  hard-boiled  egg  that  is  impeding  me." 

"  Which  one  ?  "  she  said.    "  You  ate  three." 

"  The  second,"  I  said,  "  was  the  largest.  I  think  it  is  the 
second.  This  will  be  a  lesson  to  me  never  to  eat  more  than 
the  first  and  third." 

"  There,"  she  said,  "  Arthur 's  shouting  back.  He  says  it 
is  just  round  the  corner." 

"I  have  learnt,"  I  said,  "to  distrust  Arthur.  We  have 
been  climbing  these  precipitous  ascents  for  more  than  an 
hour,  and,  according  to  Arthur,  the  lake  has  been  round 
every  corner.  You  must  admit,  Francesca,  that  the  corners 
have  been  most  deceptive." 

"Are  you  going,"  she  said,  "to  make  me  ashamed  of 
having  brought  out  a  husband  who  cannot  walk  ?  " 

"  I  will  admit,"  I  said,  "  that,  if  you  wanted  the  husband 
who  would  walk  to  Lac  Lioson  in  record  time  under  a 
broiling  sun,  then  you  brought  the  wrong  one.  The  one 
you  have  brought  is  an  enjoyer  of  scenery,  a  smoker  of 
occasional  cigarettes,  a  taker  of  his  ease,  a  despiser  of  the 
mad  rush  that  is  ruining  human  nature,  a  man,  in  fact,  who, 
having  rested,  is  willing  to  push  on  gently." 

"  Push  along,  then,"  she  said. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  I  said,  "  that  '  push '  was  quite  the 
right  "word." 

"  '  Drag,' "  she  said,  "  would  have  been  better." 

"  No,  '  move '  was  what  I  wanted.  I  will  now  move  on 
gently  with  you." 

"  We  shall  never  catch  them  up,"  she  said.  "  They  're 
miles  ahead." 

"  There  you  go,  Francesca.  Arthur  says  it  is  round  the 
next  corner,  and  you  say  it  is  miles  away.  I  refuse  to  make 
any  further  concessions  to  this  lake.  From  all  I  hear  it  is 
not  a  real  lake  at  all.  It  is  a  mere  tarn,  a  silly  little  sheet 
of  water  up  in  the  mountains.  We  have  plenty  of  tarns  in 
England." 

"But  you're  not  in  England,"  she  said.  "You're  in 
Switzerland,  and  you  've  come  out  with  your  wife  and 
family  to  see  Lac  Lioson,  and  if  you  hadn't  sat  down  and 
rested  about  a  hundred  times  you  'd  have  been  there  by 
now.  If  only  I  had  been  a  man " 

"That's  just  it,"  I  interrupted.  "If  you  had  been  a 
man  you  wouldn't  have  been  so  set  on  seeing  this  lake. 
You  would  have  let  me  rest  without  worrying  me.  You 
wouldn't  have  made  me  carry  all  the  girls'  sweaters  in  case 
they  should  find  it  cold  at  the  lake.  In  fact  you  wouldn't 
have  wanted  to  see  this  ridiculous  lake  at  all.  But,  being  a 
woman,  of  course  you  're  quite  different." 

"  At  any  rate,"  she  said,  "  this  is  going  to  be  your  last 
rest.  When  once  you  get  off  that  tree-stump  you  '11  have 
to  walk  on  till  you  get  to  the  lake." 


"  Then  I  shan't  get  up,"  I  said.  "  I  shall  stay  here  andi 
let  you  go  round  all  the  remaining  corners.  Leave  me, 
Francesca,  and  get  on  to  the  children.  You  will  find  my 
body  here  when  you  come  back." 

"  I  will  never,"  she  said,  "  desert  Mr.  Micawber.  Up 
you  get.  That's  it!  " 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  for  your  sake  I  will  put  my  least 
damaged  foot  forward.  Let  us  get  to  this  lake  and  throw 
stones  at  it.  One  more  corner,  and — — " 

It  really  was  the  lake  this  time. 


THE    SCHOOL    FOR    SUCKLINGS. 

[Wo  learn  from  The  Daily  Express  that  an  American  professor  has 
'been  denouncing  "baby-talk."  "Every  bit  of  tho  foolish  jargon 
taught  to  babies  nowadays  will  have  to  be  unlearned  some  day,"  lie 
said  in  a  recent  lecture.  "The  average  father  and  mother,  instead 
of  preparing  their  child  for  school,  instead  of  establishing  a  fouiuUitiui 
for  education  and  knowledge,  do  the  very  opposite."] 

THEBE  's  a  pucker  in  Frederick's  forehead, 

There  's  an  ominous  look  in  his  eye, 
And  I  fancy  he  's  forming  a  horrid 

And  hasty  decision  to  cry ; 
And  it 's  oh  for  the  syrup  that 's  soothing 

To  smother  the  imminent  row — 
For  the  prattle  so  potent  in  smoothing 

The  creases  that  wrinkle  his  brow  ! 

But  the  power  that  rules  over  the  cradle 

Has  started  a  novel  crusade : 
Henceforth,  'tis  determined,  a  spade  '11 

Be  plainly  described  as  a  spade ; 
And  baby,  who  '11  shortly  be  burning 

To  win  academical  bays, 
Shall  skip  the  ordeal  of  unlearning 

The  lore  of  his  nursery  days. 

No  longer  shall  "diddums"  and  "poppet" 

Our  Freddie  to  peacefulness  woo ; 
That  language  is  dead — we're  to  drop  it ; 

We  Jve  uttered  our  ultimate  "  goo  " ; 
Though  our  temper  he  sorely  should  try  by 

A  fixed  disposition  to  weep, 
He  '11  never  be  told  to  "  go  bye-bye," 

But  simply  requested  to  sleep. 

In  place  of  those  fatuous  fables 

We  lately  prescribed  for  his  pain 
We  '11  recite  him  the  multiple  tables, 

Or  a  list  of  the  rivers  of  Spain  ; 
He  shall  taste  in  his  cot  of  the  pleasures 

He 's  destined  at  school  to  enjoy— 
The  tale  of  the  weights  and  the  measures, 

Including  the  travail  of  Troy. 

When  he's  cross,  we  shall  bid  him  remember 

The  year  CosuR-DE-LiON  was  crowned, 
And  how  many  days  hath  September, 

And  how  many  pence  make  a  pound. 
Endowed  with  these  generous  riches, 

He  '11  grow  a  remarkable  lad — 
Unless,  ere  he  's  put  into  breeches, 

His  brain-drill  has  driven  him  mad. 


"  An  official  circular  from  the  Governor-General's  office  states  that 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Connaught  will  prolong  their  stay  in 
England  until  October  7,  in  order  that  they  may  attend  tho  wedding 
of  Prince  Arthur  and  the  Duchess  of  Fife,  which  has  been  fixed  for 
October  15. — Renter." — Newcastle  Evening  Chronicle. 
It  will  be  a  shock  to  them  to  find  that  they  have  missed 
it  after  all. 


AUGUST  13,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


159 


Self-satisfied  Shot.  "Noi  A  BAD  ONE  THAT,  SANDY,  EH?" 

Saiuly  (gathering  another  winged  bird).  "HAN,  YE  'D  BE  A  GIUAND   SHOT  FOB  ANE  o'  THESE  BETMEVEB  TRIALS.     THEY'RE 

TERRIBLE  FOND   o'    WOUNDED   BUH-R-DS." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
The  Pot  of  Basil  which  Mr.  BERNARD  CAPES  has  produced 
with  the  assistance  of  Messrs.  CONSTABLE  is  the  sort  of 
plant  which  should  thrive  on  idle  summer  beaches.  Perhaps 
you  will  bo  pleasantly  intrigued  (as  I  was)  to  meet  on  an 
early  page  and  anything  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago  a  brave  equipage  lumbering  up  the  high  road 
containing  a  handsome  gentleman  in  uncustomary  suit  of 
solemn  but  costly  black.  Very  well  then.  This  is  an 
Archduke  incognito.  And  lo !  at  a  turn  of  the  pass  appears 
a  vision  of  delight,  apparently  just  a  casual  fair  maiden  of 
the  place  in  difficulties  about  a  water-lily,  but  really  the 
destined  princess,  ISABELLA,  granddaughter  of  Louis  XV. 
of  France  and  daughter  of  PHILIP,  Duke  of  PARMA.  And 
of  course  the  Archduke  must  needs  send  a  deputy  to  do  his 
wooing,  one  Tiretla,  an  honourable  soldier-courtier  with  a 
very  pretty  light  tenor  voice  and  a  troubadour's  gift  of 
improvisation,  a  sort  of  cross  between  Charles  Wogan  and 
Paolo.  Follows  the  inevitable  tragic  consequence,  aided  by 
wretched  mischances  and  very  thorough  and  rather  incredible 
and  insufliciently  motived  villainy  on  the  one  part  and  an 
ingenuous  lack  of  suspicion  on  the  other.  Mr.  CAPES  is  an 
accustomed  weaver  of  romances.  Perhaps  custom  has  staled 
his  form  a  little.  I  doubt  if  he  would  once  have  thought 
that  anyone  even  in  the  seventeen-sixties  would  say,  "  Hark 
to  that  chink,  Gaspare !  A  double  silver  ducat  to  line  your 
old  breeches  withal !  "  And  I  am  inclined  to  wish  that  he 
had  not  chosen  a  pot  of  basil  in  which  to  boil  up  the 


unhappy  authentic  ingredients  of  his  romance,  for  the  basil 
need  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  case  and  seemed 
forced  rather  than  pleasantly  fanciful.  But  Mr.  CAPES  is 
nothing  if  not  allusive  and  one  understands  his  temptation. 

The  Scarlet  Pimpernel,  you  may  be  glad  to  hear,  is  at  it 
again.  He  was,  I  fancy,  too  profitable  a  servitor  of  the 
Baroness  ORCZY  to  be  allowed  to  remain  permanently  in  re- 
tirement, however  well-earned.  His  reappearance  should  be 
for  everyone's  benefit,  especially  since  it  shews  him  engaged 
upon  such  an  excellent  adventure  as  that  set  out  in  Eldorado 
(HODDEH  AND  STouGHTON).  This  time  his  objective  is  the 
rescue  of  the  Dauphin.  "  Could  I,  or  anyone  else,  doubt  for 
a  moment  that  sooner  or  later  your  romantic  hero  would 
turn  his  attention  to  the  most  pathetic  sight  in  the  whole 
of  Europe — the  child-martyr  in  the  Temple  prison  ?  "  asks 
one  of  the  characters  in  an  early  chapter.  Of  course  not ; 
no  more  could  the  Pimpernel's  enormous  public.  So  it  is 
well  that  their  confidence  has  been  rewarded.  No  one  at 
this  time  of  day  will  be  astonished  to  learn  that  the  mission 
is  a  triumphant  success,  and  the  little  prince  safely  smuggled 
over  the  frontier ;  for  your  Pimpernel  is  not  the  man  to  be 
checked  by  so  trifling  an  obstacle  as  historical  accuracy. 
The  future  course  of  events  with  the  child  is  not  indicated. 
What  is  of  far  more  importance  is  that  the  tale  shows 
Sir  James  Blakeney  at  his  delightful  best — witty,  debonair, 
and  so  resourceful  that  even  when  things  look  darkest  the 
reader  can  rest  upon  the  comfortable  assurance  that  all 
will  come  right  in  the  end.  There  were  moments  when, 
but  for  this  conviction,  my  own  optimism  would  have  been 


160 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAHI. 


[AUGUST  13,  1913. 


ou-Iv   tried       Still   I   ought  to   have   guessed    that    the 'example  of  the  compressed   and   unexpected.     There  is  a 
bandaged  ruffian  was  really  Mr.  FKKD  TEBUY— I  mean  the  certain  movement  and  fantastic  vitality  about  this  writer's 


Pimpernel— w  disguise,  because  this  sort  of  thing  has 
happened  before.  That  I  didn't  is  my  tribute  to  a  breathless, 
improbable  and  most  entertaining  story. 

There  was  once,  you  may  remember,  a  gentleman  named 
STKHNE  who  wrote  a  book  called  A  Sentimental  Journey. 
Since  then  there  have  been  others  of  like  mind,  such  (for 
example)  as  STEVENSON,  BELLOC,  and  plenty  more  whom  I 
could  mention,  but  have  forgot.  The  point  about  these 
persons?  is  that  they  all  wrote  books  of  easy-going  travel, 
and  (which  is  the  strange  thing)  wrote  them  in  very  much 
the  same  style.  There  appears  indeed  to  be  a  Common 
Form  in  these  matters.  The  latest  exponent  of  it  is 
Mr.  WILLIAM  CAINE,  whose  book  The  New  Foresters 
(NISBET)  is  not  only  an  interesting  study  for  the  stylist, 
but  incidentally  as  entertaining  a  record  as  you  could  desire 
to  read.  Mr.  CAINE,  being,  as  is  clearly  apparent,  of  the 
stuff  of  which  adventurers  are  made,  has  hit  upon  a  bright 
idea.  Perceiving  that 
motors  and  their  attendant 
dust  have  rendered  high- 
road caravanning  a  humi- 
liation and  torture  not  will- 
ingly to  be  endured,  he 
determined  with  his  wife  to 
explore  only  such  side  tracks 
as  were  impossible  to  the 
Destroyers.  To  this  end, 
having  secured  a  small  cart 
and  a  moderately  reason- 
able ass,  he  started  upon  a 
leisurely  tour  of  the  New 
Forest,  with  such  results  as 
are  here  set  down.  It  is  a 
book  that  any  fool  can 
enjoy  and  chuckle  over; 
but  to  the  choice  company 
who  love  the  Forest  and 
its  enchanting  villages  as  a 
man  may  love  good  ale,  or 
a  mistress,  or  the  apples 
that  grow  in  a  certain 
orchard  near  Minstead  (I  had  to  put  that  in),  it  will  be  a 
pure  delight.  I  should  like  to  quote  from  almost  every 
chapter.  \Vhatmorecouldonesay?  Buy  it  at  once. 

"KiCHARD  DEHAN'S"  method  hardly  lends  itself  to  short 
story  writing.  It  needs  the  elbow-room  which  it  (and  I) 
emphatically  enjoyed  in  Between  Tiro  Thieves.  The  Head- 
quarter Recruit  (HEINEMANN)  is,  I  am  afraid,  a  sheaf  of  not 
very  notably  inspired  or  diverting  pot-boilers,  and  their 
author  is  less  concerned  with  probabilities  of  situation  and 
character  than  any  I  have  the  honour  to  be  acquainted 
with.  The  stories  set  out,  for  the  most  part,  on  a  gay 
Kiplingesque  note  of  genial  allusiveness,  but  the  plausibility 
of  that  adroit  model  is  not  at  command.  Besides,  "his 
horses,  his  dogs,  his  guns,  his  hunters  were  discussed  and 
rediscussed  by  men  at  clubs,  in  Fleet  ward-rooms  and 
garrison  mess-rooms;"  "the  adjutant  said  in  a  tone  that 


work  even  when,  as  in  several  of  the  examples  collected 
in  this  volume,  it  is  brimful  of  defects  of  matter  and  faults 
of  style.  And  vitality  is,  after  all,  a  better  thing  than 
flawlessness. 


"  Hundreds  of  men,"  says  Mr.  S.  E.  WHITE,  in  Tltc  Land 
of  Footprints  (NELSON),  "  are  better  qualified  than  my- 
self to  write  just  this  book."  I  commend  his  modesty. 


cut  down  to   a  mere 
B.  had  not  yet  killed 


"CAN  MY  'KRBERT  BATHE  'EKE,  MUM?     "E  AIN'T  GOT  KO  UNIVERSITY 

COSTUME,    BUT   *E 's   GOT    'IS  ETON   COLLAIV  AND    'IS   COLLIDOE   CAP  ON." 


and  only  wish  that  he  had  carried  it  a  little  further  and 
refrained  from  disparaging  hunter-authors  in  general,  an 
invidious  task  to  which  he  devotes  the  first  chapter  of  his 
book.  But  apart  from  this  error  of  judgment  I  have  only 
one  fault  to  find  with  him,  and  it  is  that  he  refers  to  his 
comrades  as  B.,  C.  and  F.  This  reticence  may  have  been 
obligatory,  but  all  the  same  I  can  never  pretend  to  a  very 
human  interest  in  a  man  who  is 
initial;  and  when  I  was  told  that  ' 
his  lion,  so  the  shot  was  his,"  I  confess  that  my  concern 

about  the  issue  was  largely 
academic.  On  the  other 
hand  I  found  unqualified 
virtue  elsewhere  in  Mr. 
WHITE'S  reticence.  He  lias 
not  revelled  in  details  of 
indiscriminate  slaughter. 
If  I  happened  to  bo  a 
Grant's  gazelle,  a  Newman's 
hartebeeste,  or  a  lesser  kudu 
and  had  to  be  hunted,  I 
should  esteem  it  a  privilege 
to  be  pursued  by  such  au 
unblood  thirsty  sportsman  as 
the  author  of  The  Land  of 
Footprints.  It  is  more  than  a 
thrilling  story  of  adventure, 
for  Mr.  WHITE  shows  that 
lie  is  a  man  of  broad  sym- 
pathies and  understanding, 
who  not  only  can  deal  suc- 
cessfully with  primitive 
tribes  like  the  Kikuyus, 
Monumwezis  and  Wakam- 
If  Memba  Sasa  and  Fiindi 


rang  like  bell-metal; "  "  the  pale  translucent  hazel  eyes  of  the  to  the  identity  of  the  thief.     But  the  finish 
young  lady  flashed  violet ;  "  and  these  things,  I  imagine,  are  surprise  to  me,  and  I  natter  myself  that  most 


no  longer  done,  though  they  are  well-known  and  convenient 
ingredients  for  the  wholesale  manufacture  of  fiction.  But 
"The  Fourth  Volume,"  the  story  of  the  wife  who  married 
on  his  death-bed  the  hussar  who  had  broken  his  back 
a-hunting  is,  strangely  enough,  as  short  and  as  ingenious 
in  construction  as  one  could  desire ;  quite  a  satisfactory 


bas,  but  really  knows  them, 
ever  happen  to  come  my  way  I  shall  feel  that  on  their 
side  the  ceremony  of  introduction  has  already  been  most 
pleasantly  performed. 

In  my  experience  there  are  two  kinds  of  satisfaction  to  be 
derived  from  a  good  detective  story.  One  is  a  sense  of 
triumph  when  you  have  spotted  the  winning  clue  and  find 
that  you  are  right ;  the  other  a  sense  of  relief  following  the 
solution  of  a  mystery  that  has  left  you  baffled  till  the  last 
page.  In  The  Widow's  Necklace  (DUCKWORTH)  Mr.  ERNEST 
DAVIES  gives  a  taste  of  both  kinds.  Without  claiming  any 
very  deep  skill  in  detection  I  was  able  to  guess  pretty  early 
in  the  story  how  the  theft  was  accomplished,  and  I  felt 
continually  desirous  of  kicking  the  slow  official  sleuth 
because  he  didn't  guess,  too.  I  also  had  a  correct  suspicion, 
not,  I  confess,  unclouded  by  one  or  two  incorrect  ones,  as 

ihe  finish  was  a  complete 
that  most  of  Mr.  DAVIKS'S 

readers — and  he  deserves  a  good  many — will  find  themselves 
in  the  same  position. 


"At  the  17th  the  captain  won  by  laying  his  iron  shot  about  110 
yards  on  the  green  at  the  18th  hole  dead." — Croydon  Advertiser. 

We  have  often  laid  our  drive  dead  on  the  wrong  green. 


20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


1G1 


CHARIVARIA. 

A  TOPICAL  touch  was  given  to  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Congress  hy  Dr.  WALSH, 
who,  in  a  paper  which  he  read,  under- 
took the  white-  washing  of  LUCRKX.IA 


human  shores  '  as  'cold  ablation'  with- 
out a  blush,  and  under  circumstances 
that  called  for  great  accuracy."  The 


classic 
lapses 


instance, 
KKATS'S 


however,    of     such 
"  pure  ablution,"  a 


In  view  of  the  present  pretty  custom 
of  su^(>s)  ing  that  a  Cabinet  Minister  is 
mixed  up  in  every  scandal  of  the  day,  it 
seems  almost  uncanny  that  no  one  should 
have  hinted  darkly 
.-il  the  possihility  of  Mr. 
II  i:i!i!i:i(T  SAMUEL'S 
having  purloined  the 
famous  pearl  necklace, 
which  is  admitted  to 
have  been  consigned  hy 

P°st-         *  * 

Mr.  HALL  CAINE 
announces  that  his  new 
hook  has  been  com- 
manded hy  the  Arch- 
deacon of  WEST- 
MINSTER, Archdeacon 
SIXCLAIH,  Sir  DAVID 
JONES,  Mr.  WILLIAM 
CANTON,  the  Eev. 
Father  JAY,  and  Sister 
MILDRED.  May  we  add 
that  one  of  our  aunts 
also  liked  it,  while  Miss 
Effie  Smith  (of  Balham) 
has  written  to  say  that 
she  thinks  it  lovely  and 
so  interesting? 
*  -:t 

During  the  last  week 
of  the  Eoyal  Academy 
Exhibition  sixpence  was 
charged  for  admission. 
eral  visitors  ex- 
pressed  the  opinion  that 
it  was  well  worth  the 


slip  which  remained  uncorrected  not 
only  during  the  poet's  lifetima,  but 
down  to  the  appearance  of  The  Writing 

of  J'!injlish. 


*  * 
* 


As   a   result    of  investigations    into 
the  sanitary  conditions  of  the  French 


money. 


*  * 


THE  UNSEASONABLE  NUT. 

Minx.    "WHATEVER  ARE  THOSE  FEATHERS  DOIKC?" 

Kilt.    "  On,  I   MUST   HAVE    FORGOTTEN  TO  TAKE  'EM  OUT   OP    MY   POCKET   AFTER 


LAST  MONDAY'S  SHOOT." 


this  will  prove  to  be  the  first  of  a  series 
of  attempts  to  gain  the  support  of  the 
rising  generation. 


Suffragettes  tried  un- 
successfully to  burn 
clown  the  Higher  Grade 
Schools  at  Sutton-in- 

Ash field  last  week.  We  understand  that  Ciiamber  of  Deputies  it  has  been  dis- 
covered that  on  occasions  there  are 
75,000  microbes  there  to  the  cubic  yard. 
The  scandal  of  this  overcrowding'is  to 
be  taken  up  at  once  by  the  local  Society 
for  the  Protection  of  Animals. 

*.* 

The  gentleman  who  wrote  to  a  con- 
temporary   last    week    from    Saffron 
Walden  to  announce  that  three  degrees 
of  frost  were  registered  there  on  the  7th 
of  August  did,  after  all,  serve  a  useful 
orgetful  editor,   we    are 
reading   the  news,  sud- 


Co. 


"  Among  Messrs.  London,  Wcekes  & 


most  recent  publications  s  an 
'effective  setting  of  Tennyson's  im- 
mortal '  Break,  Break,  Break.'  "  This 
should  have  an  encouraging  circulation 

among  the  militants. 
*  * 

Says  the  author 'of  The  Writing  of 
English,  just  published  in  the  Home 
University  Library:— "So  precise  a 

person  as  Matthew  Arnold  misquotes   0  0 

Koats's  'Pure    ablation  round   earth's.!  Christmas  Number. 

VOL    cxr.v. 


purpose. 


informed, 


A 
on 


Visitors  to  Pourville  have  been  offi- 
cially forbidden  "  to  carry  away  in  any 
vessel  or  receptacle  any  quantity  of  sea 
water  except  by  special  licence."  The 
local  lock  -  up  should  bo  badly  over- 
crowded on  the  first  rough  day  by 
bathers  who  have  inadvertently  swal- 
lowed some  of  the  precious  liquid. 

A  short  way  with  posts !  A  prisoner, 
up  before  Mr.  HOIUCK  SMITH  (himself  a 
poet)  last  week,  asked  him  to  read  a  poem 
he  had  written.  The 
magistrate  read  one 
verso,  and  then  sen- 
tenced the  prisoner  to 
three  months'  imprison- 
ment in  default  of  find- 
ing two  sureties  for  his 
good  behaviour. 

'  :':• 

The  news  that  in  the 
excitement  of  a  cricket 
match  a  Lead)  youth 
who  had  been  dumb  for 
ten  years  regained  his 
speech  does  not  surprise 
us.  Wo  have  heard  the 
most  reticent  man  we 
know  say  quite  a  lot  at 
the  wickets  when  the 
ball  hit  him  sharply  on 
the  little  finger. 

"A  VICAU'S  MOBAL," 
announced  a  paragraph 
in  The  Daily  Mail. 
"  Dear,  dear !  Have  we 
come  to  this?"  com- 
mented an  old  lady,  "  A 
vicar  with  only  one 
moral !  "  ^  + 

At  a  ball  that  fol- 
lowed a  rustic  wedding 
the  other  day,  there  was 
a  violent  quarrel  be- 
tween the  bride  and 
bridegroom  owing  to  the 
lady's  dancing  several 
times  with  her  hus- 
band's former  rival. 
Upon  the  bridegroom's  boxing  the  bride's 
ears,  the  guests  thrashed  him  and  threw 
him  out.  Among  the  superstitious  peas- 
antry the  incident  is  looked  upon  asabad 
omen,  and  the  wiseacres  are  prophesy  ing 
that  the  marriage  will  not  be  a  success. 

*._* 

The  Eev.  Canon  "AI.  M.  FFIXCH  and 
Mrs.  FFINCH  celebrated  their  golden 
wedding  at  Northfleet,  Kent,  last  week. 
We  congratulate  these  llove-bbirds. 


,-rrSniTir. 


denly  remembered  that  he  ought  to  be  _ 

making  arrangements  at  once  for  his  j  thing  to  his  advantage." 


The  New  Obesity  Cure. 

If  Richard ,  fat  boiler,  will  communi- 
cate with  Thos.  ho  will  hear  of  somo- 


Adrt.  in  "  Lii-eiyool  Echo." 


1G2 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913.  : 


KAISER    WILHELM    TO    KING    CAROL. 

(On  the  conclusion  of  Peace.) 
GOOD  KARL,  your  second  loyal  wire  to  hand, 
Acknowledging  receipt  of  Ours  and  sending 
A  further  tribute  to  the  brain  that  planned, 
13y  just  allotment  of  another's  land, 
This  amicable  ending. 

Telegrams,  as  you  know,  We've  sent  before, 

Throwing,  at  well-selected  points  of  time,  light 
On  Our  supremacy  as  Lord  of  War, 
And  now  this  new  one  gives  Us  back  once  more 
A  place  within  the  limelight. 

For,  frankly,  We  have  been  for  many  a  day 

(We  who  were  born  the  cynosure  of  nations) 
Eclipsed  by  this  loud  talk  of  EDWAED  GREY, 
How  he  was  always,  in  his  tactful  way, 
Saving  the  situations. 

Yes,  We  have  been  bored  stiff;  .We  could  not  bear 
Those  tedious  tales  of  how  he  kept  his  head  on, 
Calming  the  others  when  they  lost  their  hair, 
And,  by  his  cool  behaviour  in  the  Chair, 
Postponing  Armageddon. 

But  now  the  public  We  so  long  have  missed 

Acclaim  Us  as  The  Man  Who  Made  the  Treaty— 
Not  as  they  make  'em  at  St.  James's  tryst, 
But  bearing  on  its  face  Our  final  fist, 

German  and  mailed  and  meaty. 

And,  if  some  monarch— rival  or  ally— 

Thinks  to  revise  Our  work  a  little  later, 
"Stett"  is  our  comment;  "let  it  stand!"  We  cry; 
"  Enough  to  know  (without  the  reason  why) 
It  has  Our  imprimatur  I " 

Thus  WILLIAM  KAISEB  is  himself  again, 

Halo  on  brow,  superb  in  shining  show-wear; 
Once  more  Our  prestige,  slightly  on  the  wane, 
Eetrieves  its  former  bulk  and  swells  amain, 

And  EDWAED  GREY  is  nowhere.  O.  S. 


THE    PATRIARCHAL    DRAMA. 

THE  statement  that,  at  the  beginning  of  Sir  HEBBEBT 
BEEHBOHM  TEEE'S  Biblical  play,  Jacob  (whom  our  great 
histrionic  epigrammatist  is  to  impersonate)  will  be  eighty- 
six  years  of  age,  and  at  the  end  one  hundred  and  six,  has 
caused  a  flutter  in  centenarian,  circles,  for  hjiherto  the , stage 
has  paid  very  little  attention  to  very  old  men.  But,  since 
every  new  dramatic  departure  finds  instant  imitators,  Mr. 
CLABKSON  has  already  laid  in  a  large  stock  of  venerable  wigs 
and  beards.  

Sir  HERBERT'S  modus  operandi  for  getting  age  into 
him  is  most  interesting.  In  his  charming  villeggiatura 
he  has  been  busy  for  some  weeks  on  a  monograph  of 
OLD  PABB,  which  is  said  to  bristle  with  good  things ;  he 
has  exchanged  his  magnificent  limousine  for  a  bath-chair ; 
and  his  constant  companion  is  a  copy  of  De  Scnectute.  So 
great  has  been  his  success,  at  any  rate  superficial  success, 
that  in  the  towns  he  passes  through  in  his  quaint  conveyance 
he  is  deluged  with  old-age  pensions. 

There  is  no  truth  in  the  rumour  that  Sir  HERBERT  has 
consented,  in  deference  to  the  wishes  (or  threats)  of  the 
W.S.P.U.,  to  let  the  colours  of  Joseph's  coat  be  purple, 
green  and  white. 


In  giving  Potipliar' s  wife  the  name  of  Zuleika,  Sir 
HERBERT  has  again  displayed  his  marvellous  ingenuity  and 
readiness.  "What  shall  we  call  her?"  Mr.  Louis  N. 
PARKER  asked  one  day  at  rehearsal.  Quick  as  lightning 
came  the  reply,  "  Call  her  Zuleika."  Any  other  man  would 
have  thought  for  hours  and  then  have  done  worse.  "  Or, 
As  you  Like  Her"  has  been  suggested  as  a  sub-title  to  the 
play ;  but  Sir  HERBEET  is  against  it. 

The  pit  used  by  Joseph's  cruel  brethren  in  the  great 
desert  scene  will  be  supplied  by  TEAPP  AND  Co. 

As  we  go  to  press  we  learn  that  the  sprightly  piece  to  be 
entitled  Methuselah,  which  was  confidently  expected  from 
Mr.  BOURCHIER,  is  not  to  be  produced  before  2163,  owing 
to  the  thoroughness  of  that  actor's  methods. 

THE    NEW    INTERVIEWING. 

(With  acknowledgments  to  "  The  Observer.") 

ANXIOUS  to  glean  some  information  regarding  the  forth- 
coming production  at  the  Novelty  Theatre  of  Mr.  G. 
Bernshaw's  much-canvassed  play,  The  Girl  from  the  Niger, 
our  representative  called  upon  the  famous  manager,  Mr. 
Garville  Banker,  and  put  a  few  leading  questions  to  him. 

"Touching  The  Girl  from  the  Niger — "  began  our  inter- 
viewer in  an  inviting  tone. 

"  Who  's  touching  her?  "  inquired  Mr.  Banker. 

"  — may  I  ask  whether  it  is  intended  to  give  a  realistic 
stage-picture  of  the  West  African  interior  ?  " 

"  You  may,"  was  the  encouraging  reply. 

"  Of  course  tho  popular  legend  may  provide  the  substance 
of  the  story,  or  it  may  merely  be  treated  in  an  allegorical 
fashion?  "  it  was  suggested. 

"There  are  those  alternatives,"  said  Mr.  Banker. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  do  not  intend  to  introduce  a  real 
tiger  on  the  stage  ?  " 

"  Do  you  ?  " 

"  If.  an  allegorical  treatment  is  adopted  it  is  possible 
that  the  tiger  may  be  designed  to  represent  the  retribution 
that  follows  upon  the  prevailing  feminine  follies  of  the 
age  ?  "  insinuated  our  representative. 

"The. word  'possible'  covers  every  eventuality  that 
may  present  itself  to  tho  imagination,"  replied  the  talented 
impresario.^ 

~.  "  Do  you  think  that  an  author  should  produce  his  own 
plays,  or  that  a  professional  producer  should  be  universally 
employed  ?  "  was  the  next  question. ! 

"I  don't  think,"  replied  Mr.  Banker."  • 

"  Does  Mr.  Berushaw  agree  with  your  revolutionary 
stage  methods  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  we  shall  have  some  rain  after  all,"  said  Mr. 
Banker,  rising  and  peering  anxiously  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  presume — 

"  Quite  so,  you  do." 

"  And  one  would  like  to  know  how  many  scenes  there 
will  be,  and  who  are  to  act  in  the  play,  and  whether  the 
incidental  music  will  be  of  Nigerian  origin  ?  " 

At  this  stage  of  the  interview,  however,  Mr.  Banker 
lapsed  into  a  contemplative  silence,  first  toying  with  some 
papers,  then  looking  at  his  watch,  and  finally  ringing  the 
bell.  Concluding  that  little  further  information  was  to  be 
obtained  in  this  quarter  and  hearing  a  heavy  footstep  on 
the  stairs,  our  representative  took  his  departure. 

But  to  one  who  has  known  what  it  is  to  interview  an 
actor-manager  like  Sir  HEEBERT  TREE  about  a  forthcoming 
production  and  to  revel  in  the  fine,  free,  generous  manner 
in  which  he  keeps  nothing  back  which  he  feels  the  public 
ought  to  know — oh,  what  a  difference ! 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  20,  1913. 


THE    GOLDEN    SILENCE. 

CONSCIENTIOUS  M.P.  "  I  'M  AFRAID  I  SHAN'T  REALLY  BE  EARNING  MY  FULL  SALARY 
THIS  YEAR  WITH  NO  AUTUMN  SESSION." 

PAYMASTER  BULL  (weary  with  legislation).  "  DON'T  YOU  WORRY  ABOUT  THAT.  YOU  GO  AND 
TAKE  A  NICE  LONG  HOLIDAY;  THE  COUNTRY  NEEDS  IT." 


'- 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


1G5 


Mabel  (trying  licr  first  story — {lie  latest  from  tJie  Junior  Atalanta,  Smoli'mg-room — on  Auntie).  "D'xou  BEE  THE  roixi?" 
Auntie.  "!F  IT'S  WHAT  I  THINK  IT  is,  I  DON'T." 


ONCE   UPON   A   TIME. 
"  EAST,  WEST,  HAME  's  BEST." 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little 
girl  who  was  taken  to  the  Zoo  by  her 
father.  Her  father's  tastes  were  wholly 
scientific;  he  paid  five  guineas  a  year 
for  the  privilege  of  forgetting  to  give 
away  Sunday  tickets ;  he  could  add 
F.Z.S.  to  his  name  if  he  liked;  and 
when  he  went  in  he  asked  for  a  pen, 
instead  of  paying  a  shilling  like  inferior 
folk.  But  the  little  girl  was  curiously 
unmoved  by  the  world's  strange  fauna, 
whether  elephants  or  snakes,  and  the 
result  was  that  she  followed  listlessly 
and  fatigued  at  her  father's  heels 
throughout  the  expedition,  while  with 
eager  eyes  he  scrutinised  this  odd 
creature  and  that,  from  the  very  post- 
impressionisfc  mandril  by  the  Circle 
?ate  even  to  the  distant  and  incredible 
camelopards. 

The  little  girl,  I  say,  was  listless  and 
fatigued — with  the  exception  of  two 
moments.  For  it  chanced  that  as  they 
walked  in  solemn  procession  through 
tha  house  of  the  ostriches  and  the 
emus  and  various  cassowaries,  each  of 
whom  is  named  after  his  discoverer, 
ihey  came  to  the  Patagonian  Cavy,  and 


the  little  girl,  loitering  at  his  liars, 
uttered  a  gasp  of  delight,  for  there, 
all  unconcerned  and  greedy,  sat  a  tiny 
English  mouse,  eating  grain. 

It  looked  at  her  with  its  brilliant 
eyes,  and  nibbled  as  though  there  were 
only  two  minutes  of  all  time  left  for 
refreshment;  and,  secure  in  the  know- 
ledge of  the  dividing  bars,  it  refused 
even  to  blink  when  she  flicked  her  hand 
at  it.  She  never  saw  the  Patagonian 
Cavy  at  all. 

"What  is  it?  What  is  it?"  her 
father  impatiently  inquired. 

"  Hush,"  she  said.  "  Do  come  back 
and  look  at  this  darling  little  mouse." 

"Pooh — a  mouse,"  said  her  father, 
and  so  strode  on,  eager  to  reach  the 
elusive  apertyz.  But  not  yet  could  he 
do  so,  for  at  the  very  next  compartment, 
after  she  had  dragged  herself  all  un- 
willing from  this  one,  the  little  girl 
stopped  again,  and  again  was  absorbed, 
not  however  in  contemplation  of  the 
Eed-bellied  Wallaby  which  resided 
there  and  had  been  brought  at  great 
expense  many  thousands  of  miles  from 
Australia  for  her  benefit,  but  of  the  half- 
dozen  London  sparrows  which  fought 
and  scrambled  and  gourmandized  in 
the  Wallaby's  food  tin. 


"  Well,"  said  her  mother  when  the 
little  girl  returned,  "  and  what  did  you 
see  that  pleased  you  best  ?  "  and  the 
little  girl  mentioned  the  mouse  and  the 
sparrows,  but  chiefly  the  mouse. 

And  what  of  the.  mouse  ?  "  You 
may  call  yourself  a  Patagonian  Cavy," 
he  remarked  later  in  the  evening,  "  but 
it  doesn't  follow  that  you  're  everybody. 
Did  you  notice  a  little  girl  with  a  blue 
honnet  this  afternoon  ?  Just  after  tea- 
time  ?  The  one  that,  called  her  father 
hack  to  have  another  look?  Well, 
being  a  poor  benighted  Patagonian,  you 
don't,  of  course,  know  what  she  said, 
but  it  wasn't  what  you  think  it  was, 
oh  dear  no.  What  she  said  was,  'Do 
come  back  and  look  at  this  darling  little 
mouse,"  which  merely,"  the  mouse 
concluded,  "again  illustrates  an  old 
contention  of  mine  that  the  familiar 
can  often  give  points  to  the  startling." 

"The  last  general  election  appears  to  have 
been  in  October,  1910.  The  Constitution  pro- 
vides for  elections  every  two  years,  so  that,  did 
a  normal  state  of  things  exist,  they  ought  to 
take  place  in  a  couple  of  months.  It  may,  of 
course,  be  pleaded,  with  some  plausibility, 
that  the  condition  is  not  normal." — Tinut. 

It  is  more  likely  to  be  pleaded  that  the 
arithmetic  is  not  normal. 


1G6 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913. 


PAGES   FROM   THE    DIARY   OF 
A   FLY. 

(By  our  Charivariety  Artiste.) 
ii. 

WHEN  Editha  fell  behind  I  was  able 
to  resume  my  meditations  on  humanity. 
I  repeat  it :  I  really  believe  these  men 
consider  themselves  our  superiors.  I 
have  often  tried  to  think  why.  Possibly 
it  is  because  they  are  so  proud  of 
having  learnt  to  walk  on  their  hind 
legs  for  a  longer  time  at  a  stretch  than 
other  animals.  Still,  when  all  is  said 
and  done,  that  is  but  a  cir- 
cus trick.  And  how  petty 
are  these  giants,  and  how 
cruel !  Their  hatred  of  us 
is  born  in  them ;  it  comes 
out  in  -their  young ;  and  it 
is  thanks  to  a  little  brute 
of  a  boy  of  seven,  who 
actually  tried  to  kill  me 
dead,  that  I  have  only  three 
legs. 

There  are  some  who  hold 
that  men  are  more  humane 
than  they  used  to  be.  It  is 
just  possible,  though  I  find 
it  difficult  to  realise.  It  is 
true,  though,  that  I  remem- 
ber my  maternal  grand- 
mother telling  me  one  day 
that,  when  she  was  a  young 
girl,  it  was  a  common  sight 
to  see  monsters  walking 
about  the  streets  selling 
things  called  Fly-papers, 
diabolical  contrivances 
covered  with  some  sticky 
substance  which  were  so 
many  death  traps  for  us. 
One  would  see  hundreds 
of  flies  on  them  either  dead 
or  in  their  death  agonies. 
It  was  a  gruesome  sight 
which,  grandma  said,  had 
often  turned  her  sick.  Poor 
old  lady,  she  met  with  a 
violent  end  herself.  Latterly 
she  suffered  cruelly  from 
rheumatism,  and  one  day,  when  she 
was  dragging  her  poor  tired  limbs 
laboriously  across  the  road,  a  horrid 
motor-car,  which  did  not  even  blow  its 
horn,  went  clean  over  her. 

Well,   well,   I    pondered,   these  are 

floomy  thoughts  for  so  fine  a  day,  and 
resolved  to  put  them  from  me.  Just 
then  I  met  a  pal  named  Percy,  and  we 
decided  to  go  for  a  ride  in  the  Eow.  i 
So  we  made  our  way  thither,  and  each 
mounted  a  horse  and  had  the  most 
glorious  gallop.  It  did  our  livers  no 
end  of  good.  My  gee  tried  to  throw 
me  at  first,  but  desisted  on  my  pro- 
mising not  to  tickle. 

Shortly  after  this  the  two  of  us  had 
some  pretty  good  fun  teasing  a  daddy- 1 


long-legs  whom  we  happened  on  near 
Hyde  Park  Corner.  It  was  rather  a 
shame,  perhaps,  as  daddy-long-legses, 
though  old-fashioned,  are  really  quite 
good-natured.  I  always  think  they 
have  such  kind  eyes. 

Percy  now  said  that  he  must  be 
getting  home,  so  we  parted.  As  I  was 
leaving  the  Park  I  caught  sight  of  my 
brother  Bertie,  who  was  entering.  How- 
ever, I  pretended  not  to  see  him,  he  is 
such  a  spectacle.  I  wonder,  in  fact, 
that  he  shows  himself  in  public.  Bertie 
is  the  fool  of  the  family.  Always 


THE  RAGE   FOB    ANTIQUE    BRIC-A-BBAC. 
WHERE  SHALI,  I  SEND  IT  FOR  YOU,  GOVERNOR?  To  THE  QUAYS?" 
No,  TO  BUNGALOW  TOWN.     IT'S  FOR  A  HOUSE,  NOT  A  SHIP." 


brainless,  as  a  youngster  he  developed 
into  a  bit  of  a  fop,  and  acquired  in 
a  very  short  time  a  reputation  for 
being  a  lady-killer.  And  what  must  he 
do  one  day  but  fall  in  love  with  a 
painted  lady  ?  The  butterfly  gave  him 
quite  plainly  to  understand  that  she 
could  never  consort  with  anyone  who 
was  not  of  her  own  genus.  At  that,  the 
silly  young  ass  decided  that  he  would 
become  a  butterfly.  He  imagined  the 
process  to  be  quite  simple.  So  one 
line  raorning  he  settled  on  a  pat  of 
butter  at  a  cheesemonger's — and  es- 
caped with  his  life,  but  no  legs  and  no 
eye-lashes.  Now  he  is  an  almost  help- 
less cripple — a  sheer  hulk.  So  near 
was  he  to  death  that  his  nerves  are 


practically  ruined,  and  he  scarcely  over 
ventures  out,  and  his  best  girl,  a 
strapping  wench  named  Maggie,  trans- 
ferred her  affections  to  me.  I  suppose 
he  was  out  to-day  because  it  was  so  fine. 
Near  my  home  I  myself  had  an  ugly 
shock.  Upon  a  hoarding  my  eye  sud- 
denly alighted  upon  a  placard  bearing 
the  alarming  words — 

"  KILL  THAT  FLY ! " 
and  beneath  these  words  was  what  I 
at  first  took  to  be  a  lifelike  portrait  of 
myself.  I  almost  fainted  with  fright. 
I  immediately  thought  of  Lord  Bel- 
chester  and  his  immense 
influence.  Annoyed  at  my 
lack  of  respect  for  him,  had 
he,  I  wondered,  caused  Lon- 
don to  be  plastered  with 
these  incitements  to  assas- 
sinate me?  I  pulled  my- 
self together  and  looked 
again.  Imagine  my  relief 
on  finding  that  the  fly  of 
the  placard  had  six  legs ! 

The  fright  caused  by  the 
"Kill  that  Fly"  poster 
quite  knocked  me  over,  and 
on  reaching  home  I  sank'; 
back  into  an  arm-chair  feel-  | 
ing  far  from  well.  Soon  I 
fell  into  a  restless  sleep,  and 
I  must  have  slept  for  some 
hours  for,  when  I  woke  up, 
none  the  better  for  my  rest, 
it  was  quite  dark.  I  pulled 
myself  toge'  her  and  made 
my  way  to  the  dining-room, 
where  Lord  Belches!  er  was 
at  dinner.  I  dined  with 
him.  It  was  a  reckless 
thing  to  do,  but  fortunately 
he  never  recognised  me. 
All  went  well  until  sweets 
were  served,  when  I  had 
the  misfortune  to  over- 
balance myself  and  fall  into 
a  glass  of  Vichy  water.  Jt 
was  only  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  I  was  able, 
to  scramble  out.  At  one 
moment,  indeed,  I  thought  it  was  all 
over  with  me.  Phew  !  It  is  this  kind 
of  incident  that  ages  us  flies.  Death 
by  drowning  is  indeed  a  constant 
menace  to  all  of  us.  My  own  dear 
mother  perished  in  a  cup  of  tea, 
suffering  all  the  agonies  of  scalding 
as  well.  I  often  think  that  it  is  a  pity 
that  steps  are  not  taken  to  teach  us 
long-distance  swimming.  We  can  most 
of  us  keep  up  for  a  certain  time,  but 
so  soon  get  exhausted. 

(To  be  concluded.) 


The  Treaty  of  Bukarest. 

(By  Our  Military  Prophet.) 
C'est  magnifique  mais  ce  n'est  pas 
la  paix. 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


167 


Teuton  (on  being  told  it  is  too  rough  to  batlie).  "Yon  ENGLISH  SAILOHS — THE  OCEAN,  is  IT  Touits?    Acnl    wz  SHALL  SEB!" 


A   TRAGEDY  OF   THE    SEA. 

W7illiam  Bales — as  nice  a  young 
man  as  ever  wore  a  cummerbund  on  an 
esplanade — was  in  despair.  For  half- 
an-hour  he  and  Miss  Spratt  had  been 
sitting  in  silence  on  the  pier,  and  it  was 
still  William's  turn  to  say  something. 
Miss  Spratt's  last  remark  had  been, 
•'Oli,  Mr.  Bales,  you  do  say  things!  " 
and  William  felt  that  his  next  observa- 
tion must  at  all  costs  live  up  to  the 
standard  set  for  it.  Three  or  four 
times  he  had  opened  his  mouth  to 
speak,  and  then  on  second  thoughts 
had  rejected  the  intended  utterance  as 
unworthy.  At  the  end  of  half-an-hour 
his  mind  was  still  working  fruitlessly. 
II'  knew  that  the  longer  he  waited 


the  more  brilliant  he   would  have 
be,   and    he   told    himself    that 


gentleman  would  fall  off  the  pier  and 
let  himself  be  saved  by — and,  later 
on,  photographed  with — William  Bales, 
who  in  a  subsequent  interview  would 
modestly  refuse  to  take  any  credit  for 
the  gallant  rescue.  As  his  holiday  had 
progressed  he  had  felt  the  need  for 
some  such  old  gentleman  more  and 
more ;  for  only  thus,  he  realised,  could 
he  capture  the  heart  of  the  wayward 
Miss  Spratt.  But  so  far  it  had  been 
a  dull  season;  in  a  whole  fortnight 
nobody  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to 
oblige  William,  and  to-morrow  he  must 
return  to  the  City  as  unknown  and  as 
unloved  as  when  he  left  it. 

"  Got  to  go  back  to-morrow,"  he  said 
at   last.     As  an  impromptu  it  would 


have  served,  but  as  the  result  of  half- 
to  an-hour's  earnest  thought  he  felt  that 
even  it  did  not  do  him  justice. 

SHAW  or  one  of  those  clever  j     "  So  you  said  before,"  remarked  Miss 
writing  fellows  would  have  been  hard  Spratt. 


l>:it  to  it  now. 

William  was  at  odds  with  the  world. 
He  was  a  romantic  young  man  who 
had  once  been  told  that  he  nearly 
linked  like  LEWIS  WALLER  when  he 
I'lMwued,  and  he  had  resolved  that  his 
holiday  this  year  should  be  a  very 
1  affair  indeed.  He  had  chosen 


1  Well,  it 's  still  true." 
"Talking   about  it  won't  help   it," 
said  Miss  Spratt. 

William  sighed  and  looked  round  the 
pier.     There  was    an   old    gentleman 
fishing  at  the  end  of  it,  his  back  turned 
invitingly  to  William.    In  half-an-hour 
p  he  had  caught  one  small  fish  (which 
sea   in   the  hopes   that   somo  old  (he  had  had  to  return  as  under  the  age 


limit)  and  a  bunch  of  seaweed.  William 
felt  that  here  was  a  wasted  life ;  a  life, 
however,  which  a  sudden  kick  and  a 
heroic  rescue  by  W.  Bales  might  yet 
do  something  to  justify.  At  the 
Paddington  Baths,  a  month  ago,  he 
had  won  a  plate-diving  competition ; 
and  though  there  is  a  difference  between 
diving  for  plates  and  diving  for  old 
gentlemen  he  was  prepared  to  waive  it. 
One  kick  and  then  ....  Fame  1  And, 
not  only  Fame,  but  the  admiration  of 
Angelina  Spratt.  . 

It  was  perhaps  as  well  for  the  old 
gentleman  —  who  was  really  quite 
worthy,  and  an  hour  later  caught  a  full- 
sized  whiting — that  Miss  Spratt  spoke 
at  this  moment. 

"Well,  you  're  good  company,  I  must 
say,"  she  observed  to  William. 

"It's  so  hot,"  said  William. 

"  You  can't  say  I  asked  to  come 
here." 

"  Let 's  go  on  the  beach,"  said 
William  desperately.  "  We  can  find  a 
shady  cave  or  something."  Fate  was 
against  him ;  there  was  to  be  no  rescue 
that  day. 

"•I  'm  sure  I  'm  agreeable,"  said  Miss 
Spratt. 

They  walked  in  silence  along  the 
beach,  and,  rounding  a  corner  of  the 


168 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913. 


cliffs,  they  came  presently  to  a  cave. 
In  earlier  days  W.  Bales  could  have 
done  desperate  deeds  against  smugglers 
there,  with  Miss  Spratt  looking  on. 
Alas  for  this  unromantic  age !  It  was 
now  a  place  for  picnics,  and  a  crumpled 
sheet  of  newspaper  on  the  sand  showed 
that  there  had  heen  one  there  that 
very  afternoon. 

They  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  cave,  out 
of  the  sun,  out  of  sight  of  the  sea,  and 
William  prepared  to  renew  his  efforts 
as  a  conversationalist.  In  the  hope  of 
collecting  a  few  ideas  as  to  what  the 
London  clubs  were  talking  about  he 
picked  up  the  discarded  newspaper,  and 
saw  with  disgust  that  it  was  the  local 
Herald.  But  just  as  he  threw  it  down, 
a  line  in  it'caught  his  eye  and  remained 
in  his  mind — 

"High  tide  to-day— 3.30." 

William's  heart  leapt.  He  looked 
at  his  watch ;  it  was  2.30.  In  one 
hour  the  waves  would  be  dashing  re- 
morselessly into  the  cave,  would  be 
leaping  up  the  cliff,  what  time  he  and 
Miss  Spratt 

Suppose  they  were  caught  by  the 
tide.  ,  .  . 

Meanwhile  the  lady,  despairing  of 
.entertainment,  had  removed  her  hat. 

"  Really,"  she  said,  "  I  'm  that 
sleepy —  I  suppose  the  tide 's  safe, 
Mr.  Bales  ?  " 

It  was  William's  chance. 

"  Quite,  quite  safe,"  he  said  earnestly. 
"  It 's  going  down  hard." 

"Well   then,   I    almost    think 

She  closed  her  eyes.  "  Wake  me  up 
when  you  've  thought  of  something 
really  funny,  Mr.  Bales." 

William  was  left  alone  with  Romance. 

He  went  out  of  the  cave  and  looked 
round.  The  sea  was  still  some  way 
out,  but  it  came  up  quickly  on  this 
coast.  In  an  hour  ...  in  an  hour.  .  . 

He  scanned  the  cliffs,  and  saw  the 
ledge  whither  he  would  drag  her.  She 
would  cling  to  him  crying,  calling  him 
her  rescuer.  .  .  . 

What  should  he  do  then?  Should 
he  leave  her  and  swim  for  help?  Or 
should  he  scale  the  mighty  cliff  ? 

He  returned  to  the  cave  and,  gazing 
romantically  at  the  sleeping  Miss 
Spratt,  conjured  up  the  scene.  It 
would  go  like  this,  he  thought. 

Miss  Spratt  (ivakened  by  the  spray 
dashing  over  her  face).  Oh,  Mr.  Bales ! 
We  're  cut  off  by  the  tide !  Save  me  ! 

W.  Bales  (lightly).  Tut-tut,  there's 
no    danger.      It's    nothing.      (Aside) 
reat   Heavens!    Death  stares   us  in 
;he  face ! 

Miss  Spratt  (throwing  licr  arms 
around  his  neck).  William,  save  me ;  I 
cannot  swim  ! 

W.  Bales  (looking  like  Waller).  Trust 
me,  Angelina.  I  will  fight  my  way 


round  the  point  and  obtain  help.  (Aside) 
An  Englishman  can  only  die  once. 

Miss  Spratt.    Don't  leave  me ! 

W.  Bales.  Fear  not,  sweetheart. 
See,  there  is  a  ledge  where  you  will  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  hungry  tide. 
I  will  carry  you  thither  in  my  arms  and 
will  then 

At  this  point  5n  his  day-dream 
William  took  another  look  at  the 
sleeping  Miss  Spratt,  felt  his  biceps 
doubtfully,  and  went  on — 

W.  Bales.  I  will  help  you  to  climb 
•thither,  and  will  then  swim  for  help. 

Miss  Spratt.  My  hero  ! 

Again  and  again  William  reviewed 
the  scene  to  himself.  It  was  perfect. 
His  photograph  would  be  in  the  papers ; 
Miss  Spratt  would  worship  him ;  he 
would  be  a  hero  in  his  City  office.  The 
actual  danger  was  slight,  for  at  the 
worst  she  could  shelter  in  the  far  end 
of  the  cave ;  hut  he  would  not  let  her 
know  this.  Ho  would  do  the  thing 
heroically — drag  her  to  the  ledge  on 
the  cliff,  and  then  swim  round  the 
point  to  obtain  help. 

The  thought  struck  him  that  he  could 
conduct  the  scene  better  in  his  shirt 
sleeves.  He  removed  his  coat,  and  then 
went  out  of  the  cave  to  reconnoitre  the 
ledge. 

Miss  Spratt  awoke  with  a  start  and 
looked  at  her  watch.  It  was  4.15. 
The  cave  was  empty  save  for  a 
crumpled  page  of  newspaper.  She 
glanced  at  this  idly  and  saw  that  it 
was  the  local  Herald  .  .  .  six  days  old. 

Far  away  on  the  horizon  William 
Bales  was  throwing  stones  bitterly  at 
the  still  retreating  sea.  A.  A.  M. 


A  VARIETY  ARTIST. 

THE  itinerant  entertainer  who 
chooses  for  his  pitch  the  turf  within 
the  ropes  at  the  Oval  is  a  fellow  not 
without  courage.  For  there  are  police- 
men about,  and  the  score-card  sellers 
pass  frequently ;  and  whatever  may  be 
the  desire  of  the  authorities  to  encourage 
the  brightening  of  cricket  it  is  doubtful 
whether  they  would  allow  any  vagabond 
performer  to  take  his  stand  upon  the 
very  field  of  play. 

Yet  the  official  must  be  stern  indeed 
who  would  molest  the  perky  little  chap 
with  the  bright  eyes,  the  knowing  look, 
and  the  sprightly  manner  who  some- 
times entertains  occupants  of  the  six- 
penny seats.  I  was  watching  him  the 
other  day.  He  wore  no  hat ;  his  clothes 
looked  as  if  he  habitually  slept  in  them 
(which  no  doubt  he  does) ;  and  he  was 
not  over-clean.  He  belonged  to  the 
gutter,  the  young  scamp,  and  little  did 
be  care  who  knew  it.  He  kept  within 
a  few  yards  of  the  edge  of  the  turf,  and 


facing  his  audience  with  all  the  assur- 
ance of  a  LITTLE  TICK  (yet  keeping  a 
sharp  look-out  for  any  who  might  come 
to  turn  him  off)  he  pursued  one  of  his 
methods  of  making  a  living.  Perhaps 
only  a  few,  if  any,  quite  understood 
what  he  was  saying ;  but  if  you  will 
accept  my  version  I  think  you  will  not 
be  seriously  misled. 

"  Now,  gentlemen  all,"  he  piped  in 
his  thin,  staccato  voice,  "  they  ain't 
'ittin'  any  fours  this  arternoon,  and 
the  game  's  shockin'  slow ;  so  I  '11  ask 
your  kind  attention  for  a  few  moments 
to  4r>y  little  efforts  to  amuse  you.  Fust 
of  all,  gentSi  I  propose  to  roll  in  the. 
grass  just  like  as  if  it  was  the  dust  old 
'JTCH  out  there  keeps  kickin'  up  in  "is: 
'op,  skip  and  a  jump  to  the  wicket. 
Followin'  that,  I  shall,  if  1  'ave  any 
luck,  engage  in  a  contest  under  catch-, 
as-catch-can  rules  wiv  one'  of  the. 
wriggly  denizens  of  this  'ero  grass,  if: 
'e'll  only  'ave  the  pluck  to  put  'is  'ead^ 
out  for  'arf  a  mo'.  After  that,  I  will 
give  my  celebrated  performance  of: 
chasin'  from  the  field  one  o'  them 
overgrown  insults  to  our  speeces  as  is' 
no  use  to  anybody  till  they  arc  plucked 
and  shoved  underneath  the  pastry., 
And,  finally,  I  will  give  my  sule- 
splittin'  imitation  of  a  Petticoat  Lane 
canary  afore  'e  's  got  'is  best  clo's  on. 

"But  first  I'll  ask  you  to  throw  in 
a  few  contributions,  just  by  way  of  en- 
couragement." Here  a  piece  of  bun 
struck  him ;  but  instead  of  taking  offence 
he  nibbled  at  it  eagerly,  and  with  his 
mouth  full  expressed  cordial  thanks. 
"  Nine  more  like  that,  gentlemen  all,  is 
what  I  ask,  and  then  the  show  begins," 
he  continued.  "  Nine  crumbs  only — 
bun,  biscuit  or  bread ;  I  'm  not 
perticklar.  Thank  you,  Sir.  Thank 
you,  Sir.  Seven  more,  arid  I  begin  with 
no  further — thank  you;  much  obliged, 
Sir — no  further  delay.  Only  five  more, 
gentlemen.  (Needn't  look  so  cross, 
you  with  the  nose ;  it 's  only  crumbs 
I'm  askin'  for;  /don't  want  to  rob  you 
of  your  whiskey.)  Throw  'em  on  the 
grass,  gentlemen,  or  1  '11  come  and  take 
'em  from  the  'uman  'and,  which  you 
like !  Now,  only  two  more  required, 
and  the  performance  absolutely — 

But  at  this  exciting  moment  the 
banquet  spread  upon  the  grass  around 
the  entertainer  brought  a  baker's  dozen 
of  other  sparrows  and  a  couple  of 
gigantic  pigeons  on  to  the  scene. 
I  cannot  sully  this  fair  page  with  the 
words  which  the  one  who  was  on  the 
very  brink  of  his  performance  presum- 
ably addressed  to  the  intruders.  Seizing 
the  largest  crumb  with  his  beak,  he 
flew  over  towards  HOBBS  and  gobbled 
it  greedily,  and  then  deparUu  to  the 
other  side  of  the  ground,  where  I  hopo 
he  found  better  luck. 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


169 


Housel;ol(!er  (liaiing  subdued  burglar  with  discarded  golf  club). 
CLBEK!  " 


'  H'li  I    THAT  's  THE  FIRST  TIME  I  'VE  EVEB  BEALI.Y  LIKED  THAI 


TWO  OF  A  TRADE. 

THE  moment  Charles  Meredith 
entered  our  Temple  flat,  just  after  we 
had  finished  our  lunch,  I  knew  that  he 
was  in  trouble  and  meant  to  carry  it  off 
lightly.  His  face  gave  him  away  to 
those  who,  like  myself,  knew  him  well. 
Knowing,  moreover,  my  Marjorie's 
fatal  gift  of  spotting  my  unconfessed 
wickednesses,  and  her  deadly  habit  of 
not  allowing  me  to  carry  them  off 
lightly,  having  also  suffered  much  from 
odious  comparisons  between  myself  and 
this  same  Charles  Meredith,  I  looked 
forward  to  a  pleasant  ten  minutes  or  so. 
But  I  ought  to  have  known  that  I  am 
never  very  far  out  of  trouble  myself 
when  Marjorie  and  trouble  are  about. 

"  I  have  come  up  to  apologise  to  you, 
Mrs.  Shelley,"  said  he. 

I  waved  a  kindly  hand  at  him. 
"  Don't  mention  it,"  I  said  airily ;  "  all 
is  forgiven." 

Marjorie  said  she  would  endorse  this 
view,  if  she  knew  what  the  trouble  was. 
I  begged  Charles,  as  being  the  only 
person  who  did  know,  to  tell  her. 

After  some  hesitation,  Charles  began  : 
".  The  fact  is  that  a  long,  long  time  ago 
an  uncle  and  aunt  of  mine  fixed  this 
\\cok-end  for  their  annual  visit." 

"  If  they  are  anything  like  my  uncles 


and  aunts,"  said  I,  "  it  seems  that  you 
are  entitled  to  the  apologies." 

"  We  dare  not  put  tJietn  off,"  said 
Charles,  "  and  we  have  only  one  spare- 
room." 

I  had  suddenly  the  instinctive  feeling 
of  having  not  done  something  whicli  I 
ought  to  have  done.  Was  it  possible 
that  Charles  had  given  me  a  message 
for  my  wife  which  my  wife  had  never 
received  ?  My  worst  fears  were  realized 
when  Charles  proceeded  to  inform  us 
that  his  wife  bitterly  regretted  having 
to  put  us  off.  "  Let  us,"  I  said  hastily 
to  Charles,  remembering  now  exactly 
what  the  message  was  that  I  had 
omitted  to  deliver — "let  us  go  back  to 
our  respective  chambers  and  resume 
our  work.  It  is  high  time,  very  high 
time,  that  we  were  forgetting  our 
respective  wives  and  devoting  the 
whole  of  our  great  minds  to  the  affairs 
of  others." 

Marjorie  got  between  me  and  the 
door.  "  Put  us  off  what  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Didn't  he  tell  you  ?  "  asked  Charles, 
pointing  an  accusing  finger  at  me. 

I  interrupted.     "  If  you  ask  me  .  .  ." 

Marjorie  interrupted.  "  I  was  asking 
Mr.  Meredith.  Yes,  Mr.  Meredith  ?  " 

"  If  you  ask  me,"  I  continued,  "  he 
probably  didn't,  but  he  will  do  so  now. 
Some  little  time  ago  a  message  wAs 


despatched  to  you,  which  got  lost  in 
transit.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  the 
Merediths  would  be  delighted  if  we' 
would  spend  the  week-end  in  their 
Surrey  home.  The  week  in  question: 
would  have  started  ending  to-morrow, 
I  believe.  But  now,  since  the  uncle 
and  aunt  have  unhappily  intervened, 
shall  we  disperse  without  referring: 
again  to  the  melancholy  affair  ?  " 

"  Really,  John,"  Marjorie  began  (I; 
suffer  more  from  "  really  "  than  from 
any  other  word  in  the  dictionary).  And 
then  to  Charles,  "Why,  I  ought  toi 
have  written  to  Mrs.  Meredith  days  ago: 
to  thank  her  for  asking  us,  for  of  course 
we  should  have  loved  to  come.  OS 
course  it  doesn't  matter  a  bit  about 
putting  us  off,  and  it  was  awfully  kind  of 
you  both  to  have  thought  of  asking  us; 
But  what  does  worry  me  is  what  she 
will  think  .  .  .  really,  John." 

"What,  again?"  I  said.  But  Mar-i 
jorie's  face  had  now  assumed  thq 
familiar  I- wish  - 1  -  had  -  married-  some  •« 
body-else  expression. 

"But  that  doesn't  matter  in  the 
least,"  said  Charles,  with  great  hearti- 


ness. 


But  it  does  matter,"  said  Marjoriej 
with  so  much  more  that  Charles's 
bosom  obviously  burst  with  pride  in.^ 
his  own  generosity.  "  You  would* 


170 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913. 


WHEN    A    MAN    DOES    NOT    LOOK    HIS    BEST. 

HUMILIATISG  POSITION  OP  BATHER   WHO  HAS  BEACHED  THE   LIMIT  OF  HIS   POWERS   IX   SWIMMING   TO  THE   DIVING-RAFT. 


never  treat  your  wife  in  this  off-hand 
way." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Charles.  "  I  mean, 
no,  no." 

Marjorie  I  didn't  mind — she  is  my 
fate  and  is,  no  doubt,  good  for  me — but 
there  came  to  be  that  element  in  the 
attitude  of  Charles  which  gave  me  to 
think  that  he  was  easily  carried  away. 
"  And  now,"  he  said  finally,  arming  me 
towards  my  own  exit,  "  we  ought  to  be 
getting  back  to  work.  Come  along, 
you,  John." 

My  next  remark  may  not  bear  the 
impress  of  startling  intelligence,  yet  it 
was  the  cleverest  I  have  ever  made  in 
my  life.  "Marjorie,"  it  ran,  "you'll 
have  to  write  to  Mrs.  Meredith  and 
explain." 

Charles  waved  the  suggestion  airily 
aside.  "  Don't  you  trouble  to  do  any 
such  thing,"  said  he. 

Now  this  Charles  and  I,  friends 
though  we  be,  have  met  as  bitter  op- 
ponents in  the  forum  at  any  rate 
sufficiently  often  for  me  to  know  when 
he  is  in  a  hole  and  is  trying  to  jump 
out  of  it. 

"  Write  she  must,"  said  I,  firmly. 

"  Write  she  must  not,"  said  Charles. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Charles. 


Charles  turned  to  Marjorie,  brushing 
me  aside  'much  as  he  does  his  learned 
friend  on  the  other  side  in  court,  when 
he  is  endeavouring  to  bounce  a  judge. 
"I  am  sure  you  will  take  it  from  me 
that  there  is  no  need  to  write." 

I,  on  the  other  hand,  kept  that  silence 
which  Ti  always  keep  when"  I  know 
that  judgment  is  going  to  be  in  my 
favour,  however  caustically  pronounced. 

"  I  shall  most  certainly  write  to  Mrs. 
Meredith  and  explain,"  said  Marjorie, 
"  however  incredibly  monstrous  the 
explanation  may  sound." 

The  arrogance  of  Charles  collapsed. 
!"I  beg  of  you,  as  a  favour  to  myself," 
I  lie  pleaded,  "  to  do  no  such  thing." 

"  But  why  not  ?  "  asked  Marjorie. 

"Because  Charles  has  forgotten  to 
tell  Mrs.  Meredith  that  we  were  ever 
asked,"  '  said 'I  pleasantly;  and  to 
Charles,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger, 
as  I  led  him  from  the  room,  "  Really, 
Charles  .  .  ." 


"President  Wilson  lias  denounced  tlie  'in- 
sidious lobbying'  against  free  wool  iu  the 
United  States. 

A  column  of  these  insects,  five  miles  wide 
and  18  miles  long,  is  sweeping  over  the 
country." — Sydney  Morning  Herald. 

Help! 


THE    MERMAID'S   TOILET. 

WHEN  Summer  suns  have  warmed 

the  sea 

To  sixty-two  or  sixty-three, 
I  saunter  thither  o'er  the  sand, 
My  brindled  costume  in  my  hand, 

Andfind, as  might  have  been  forese3n, 
An  occupant  in  each  machine, 
While  heavy  booking  in  advance 
Indefinitely  queers  my  chance. 

Mermaidens  through  the  ripples  dash, 
Mermatrons  also  sport  and  splash, 
And,  by  the  steps,  a  thought  more 

dressed, 
Wait  others  eager  to  divest. 

However,  sanguine  on  the  whol3, 
In  patience  I  possess  my  soul, 
For  girls  who  wear  such  scanty  kit 
Will  soon  slip  out  and  into  it. 

But  other  habits,  cut  and  dried, 
Are  not  so  lightly  laid  aside, 
And  ere  I  take  my  tardy  turn 
This  bittsr,  bedrock  truth  1  learn  :— 

Though  garments  to  he  donned  or 

loosed 

To  four  or  five  have  been  reduced, 
Woman  takes  root  in  her  machine 

As  if  she  still  wore  seventeen. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  20,  1913. 


'«£>   , 


A    QUESTION    OF    DETAIL. 

Sin  IMWABD  GBEY.  "YOU'LL    HAVE    TO    GO,   YOU    KNOW.     THE    CONCERT    FEELS    VERY 
STRONGLY    ABOUT    THAT." 

TuiKEv.  "AND    WHO'S    GOING    TO    TURN    ME    OUT?" 

Sij(  EDWARD  GREY..  "  CURIOUS   YOU    SHOULD   ASK   ME   THAT;    IT'S  THE   ONE   POINT  WE 
JJIIAYENT    DECIDED   'YET.     HAVE    YOU    ANY    PREFERENCE    IN    THE    MATTER?" 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


173 


ESSENCE   OF   PARLIAMENT. 

(EXTRACTED  FROM  THEDIAKY  OF  TODY,  M.P.) 

Eouse  of  Lords,  Monday,  August  11. 
—Heard  of  potted  plays.  Regarded 
from  point  of  view  of  frequenter  of 
mtitineex,  they  are  nothing  compared 
with  this  afternoon's  performance  of 
Potted  Bills.  Order  of  the  Day  con- 
tained as  many  as  twenty-eight  sepa- 
rate measures  standing  at  various 
stages  of  progress,  all  hound  to  be  put 
through  at  current  sitting.  Recognised 
that  only  possible  way  of  accomplishing 
stupendous  task  was  to  meet  an  hour 
earlier  then  usual.  Accordingly  at 
quarter-past  three  LORD  CHANCELLOR 
took  seat  on  Woolsack.  Notice  was 
taken  that  his  constitutionally  slim  body 
bulged  out  in  measure  suggesting  recent 
enjoyment  of  exceptionally  lusty  lunch. 
Explained  later  that  these  were  amend- 
ments to  Mental  Deficiency  Bill.  Their 
total,  including  overflow,  amounted  to 
no  fewer  than  ninety-one. 

Two  front  benches  well  tilled.  Below 
Gangway  to  right  of  Woolsack  was 
here  and  there  a  Bishop.  For  the  rest, 
red  leather  benches  were  with  one  ex- 
ception unoccupied.  Exception  had 
important  consequences  affecting  course 
of  public  business.  The  solitary  un- 
official peer  was  CAMPEIIDOWN,  known 
to  his  peers  as  CONVERSATION  CAMPER- 
DOWN.  Sobriquet  acquired  vogue  be- 
cause so  full  is  he  of  information,  so 
eager  to  convey  it,  that  where  another 
would  interpolate  a  sentence  in  Parlia- 
mentary conversation  he  makes  a 
speech. 

On  the  Order  Paper,  amid  battalion 
of  Bills  waiting  to  be  carted  off  to 
Statute  Book,  there  stood  in  his  name 
a  question  so  voluminous  that 
it  would  have  sufficed  less  gifted 
men  for  a  treatise.  Had  some- 
thing to  do  with  alluring  topic 
of  Undeveloped  Land  Duty.  In 
the  Commons  the  thing  would 
have  been  treated  as  a  question. 
Minister  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed would  have  read  reply 
and  there  an  end  on 't.  In  the 
Ijords  innocent-looking  question 
may,  and  frequently  does,  lead 
to  prolonged  debate. 

For  CAMPEIIDOWN  something 
of  pathos  underlay  prosaic  cir- 
cumstance of  hour.  Prorogation 
near  at  hand.  This  might  be 
last  opportunity  of  adding  to 
long  series  of  speeches  with 
which  during  the  Session  he  has 
endeavoured  to  enlighten  un- 
sympathetic, sometimes  inatten- 
tive, gatherings.  Set  to  as  fresh 
as  if  it  were  a  brisk  day  in 
February  instead  of  a  languorous 
thunder-charged  afternoon  in 


August.  STRACHIE,  so  recently  im- 
ported from  the  Commons  as  to  be  still 
influenced  by  its  methods,  treated  inter- 
polation as  a  question.  Read  reply 
prepared  by  the  Department  be  repre- 
sents in  the  Lords. 


MENTAL  DEFICIENCY  AMENDMENTS. 
(Lord  HALDANE.) 

But  for  SELBORNE,  House  might 
forthwith  have  got  to  business.  When 
one  remembers  historical  scene  in  the 
last  century  when  the  first  Viscount 
WOLMER,  called  to  the  Peerage  by  the 
death  of  the  Earl  of  SELBORNE,  in- 
sisted on  remaining  in  the  Commons — • 
a  revolutionary  movement  in  which  he 
was  backed  up  by  two  other  elder 
sons  known  at  the  time  as  GEORGE 
CUHZON  and  ST.  JOHN  BRODRICK — his 
adaptation  to  later  conditions  is 
marvellous  in  its  fulness.  Come  to  be 
recognised  as  one  of  the  most  effective 
debaters  on  Front  Opposition  Bench. 


DAY-DIVEAMS. 
(Lord  LANSDOWXE.) 


Jumped  up  now  and  said  a  few 
words  having  remote  reference  to 
LLOYD  GEORGE  and  his  famous  Budget. 
Thus  encouraged,  CAMPERDOWN  posi- 
tively made  another  speech.  CREWE, 
most  courteous-mannered  man  that  ever 
led  a  hopeless  minority,  thought  it 
incumbent  upon  him  to  say  a  few 
words.  Pretty  to  see  how,  standing  at 
Table,  he,  before  opening  his  mouth, 
deliberately  buttoned  the  front  of  his 
coat,  with  obvious  intent  to  discourage 
expansion  of  phrase.  In  this  he  suc- 
ceeded. 

When  he  sat  down  the  scanty 
audience  glanced  anxiously  at  Leader 
of  Opposition.  Would  he  think  it  neces- 
sary to  follow  Leader  of  the  House? 
Happily  LANSDOWNE,  dreaming  of 
verdurous  sea-haunted  Derreen  in  far- 
off  Kerry,  not  inclined  to  risk  delay  in 
reaching  that  haven  of  rest  by  blocking 
Bills  with  idle  talk.  Accordingly  made 
no  move.  CAMPEHDOWN  rose  again. 
Was  he  on  homoeopathic  principle  going 
to  fill  vacuum  by  reiterated  vacuity? 
With  sigh  of  relief  was  heard  to  ask 
leave  to  withdraw  the  motion  that  had 
served  as  a  peg  for  his  diversion. 
Request  hurriedly  granted,  and  House 
went  into  Committee  on  Mental 
Deficiency  Bill. 

Noble  lords,  looking  at  their  watches, 
found  it  was  a  quarter  -  past  four. 
CAMPERDOWN  had  spent  for  them  the 
precious  sixty  minutes  dearly  bought 
by  earlier  hour  of  meeting. 

Business  done. — More  than  a  score 
of  Bills  coming  up  from  the  Commons 
disposed  of. 

House  of  Commons,  Tuesday. — Con- 
sidering near  approach  to  Prorogation 
and  the  lure  of  well-earned  holiday, 
attendance  at  opening  of  busi- 
ness this  afternoon  surprisingly 
large.  Due  to  fact  that  impor- 
tant statement  on  condition  of 
affairs  in  the  East  of  Europe 
expected  from  FOREIGN  SECRE- 
TARY. Opportunity  provided  by 
Second  Reading  of  Appropriation 
Bill,  upon  which  may  be  dis- 
cussed all  matters  in  the  heavens 
above  (e.g.  insufficiency  of  aero- 
planes), on  the  earth  beneath 
(the  Piccadilly  flat)  or  in  the 
waters  under  the  earth  (lack  of 
submarines). 

On  motion  made,  EDWABD 
GREY  rose  and  in  studiously 
casual  manner  remarked, "  There 
is  some  information  I  should  like 
to  give  the  House  with  regard 
to  foreign  affairs  which  I  think 
it  certainly  ought  to  have  before 
it  separates  and  on  which  it 
is  necessary  for  me  to  make 
some  explanation."  In  this 
characteristic  manner  was  in- 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20.  1913. 


traduced  a  speech  of  profoundest   in- 
terest not  only  at  home  but  abroad. 

If  ever  there  was  a  time  when 
habitually  impregnable  modesty  might 
temporarily  yield  to  pressure  it  was 
hero  presented.  As  Sir  EDWARD  pointed 
out,  up  to  outbreak  of  war  in  Balkans 
last  October,  there  had  been  universal 
expectation  that  it  would  be  the  signal 
for  a  clash  of  arms  among  the  Great 
Powers.  Some  would  be  unable  to 
keep  out  of  it,  and  if  one  or  more  were 
brought  in  it  was  impossible  to  say 
how  many  others  would  follow.  That 
calamity,  threatening  the  greatest  war 
since  the  days  of  NAPOLEON,  has  been 
averted.  By  common  consent  the 


with  regard  to  the  rumours  arising  out 
of  HALDANE'S  journey  to  Berlin  in 
February,  1912,  he  observed,  "  It  is 
not  difficult  to  tell  the  truth  ;  the  diffi- 
culty is  to  get  the  truth  believed."  That 
difficulty  he  surmounted  in  his  commu- 
nications with  the  Foreign  Ambassadors. 
The  rest  was  comparatively  simple. 

Not  easy  to  name  a  statesman  who 
in  equally  critical  times  has  done  such 
supreme  service  not  only  to  his  country 
but  to  the  Continent.  The  only  man 
who  seems  unconscious  of  its  magnitude 
is  Sir  EDWARD  GREY. 

Business  done.—  Appropriation  Bill 
read  a  second  time  without  division. 

Friday. — Parliament  prorogued. 


HOW   TO   BE    HAPPY    THOUGH 

HOLIDAY -MAKING. 

By  NINE  MAYORS. 

(With  apologies  to  a  well-known  photo- 
graphic firm.) 

Extract  from  Preface : — This  book 
resembles  no  other  book  that  has  ever 
appeared.  You  never  read  anything 
like  it  before,  and  probably  you  never 
will  (intentionally)  do  so  again.  It  is 
about  happiness,  and  nine  mayors  have 
written  it  to  tell  you  how  and  where 
to  be  happy.  What  mayors  don't 
know  about  being  happy  isn't  worth 
knowing.  Is  there  not  an  old  proverb 


leading  part  in  the  difficult  delicate 
task  has  been  played  by  the  British 
Foreign  Minister. 

Through  months  of  anxious  labour, 
unresting,  unhurried,  with  sublimeiact, 
unruffled  patience,  inflexible  urbanity, 
he  has  at  long  last  won  a  victory  more 
renowned  than  any  achieved  in  the 
annals  of  War.  One  secret  of  his 
success,  generously  extolled  this  after- 
noon on  Opposition  benches,  is  the 
conviction  slowly  but  surely  growing 
in  the  minds  of  Representatives  of 
Foreign  Powers  with  whom  he  has 
had  dealings,  that  he  is  an  honest 
man  who  says  exactly  what  he  means 
and,  in  spite  of  unfailing  politeness, 
will  resolutely  do  what  he  thinks  is  the 
right  thing. 

^  In  one  of  his  clearly-cut  sentences 
EDWARD  GREY  defined -the  difficulties 
that  since  diplomacy  was  -first  set  to 
work  has  environed  its  practitioners. 
Speaking  in  the  House  of  Commons 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  CURTAIN. 

"A   COKKECTION. 

Through  inadvertence,  the  name  of  Mr- 
John  Smyth,  Moyarget,  Ballycastle,  appeared 
in  the  list  of  persons  fined  for  drunkenness  in 
our  report  of  Ballycastle  Petty  Sessions  in  our 
last  issue.  Instead,  the  charge  against  Mr. 
Smyth  was  that  of  burying  a  horse  within  the 
statutory  distance  off  the  public  road.  We 
tender  our  apologies  for  the  error  and  regret 
the  unpleasantness  involved." 

Colerainc  Chronicle. 
All  the  passers-by  regret  the  same. 


"The  flowers  of  nasturtiums  make  a  dainty 
and  delicious  sandwich.  Lick  the  flowers  just 
before  they  are  to  be  used,  plunge  them  into 
cold  water,  to  remove  all  dust  or  a  lurking 
insect." — Montreal  Family  Herald. 

Personally  we  would  rather  lick  them 
after  the  dust  and  insects  have  been 
removed. 

"  Dr.  T.  3.  Van  Loghem,  the  Amsterdam 
infectious  very  long  after  biting  a  yellow  fever 
infectious  very  long  after  biting  a  yellow  fever 
patient. '  '—Evening  Standard. 
He  mustn't  do  it  again. 


that  says,  "  The  mayor  the  merrier  ?  " 
Very  well  then. 

HAPPY  MOMENTS  AT  MUDPOOL. 

By  the  Mayor  of  Mudpool. 
I  consider  that  at  no  place  in  the 
world  has  the  visitor  better  oppor- 
tunities for  winning  your  Million  Pound 
Happy  Moments  prize  than  at  Mudpool ; 
and,  as  the  largest  shareholder  in  the 
Pier  and  Winter  Gardens  Co.,  I  ought 
to  know.  Here  seascape  and  landscape 
are  so  pleasantly  combined  that  on  six 
days  out  of  seven  it  is  impossible  to  tell 
which  is  which.  Surely  there  is  signifi- 
cance in  the  old  association  of  mud  and 
larks.  Come,  then,  to  Mudpool  and  lurk. 
JOSHUA  JUDKINS, 

Mayor  of  Mudpool. 

HAPPY  MOMENTS  AT  SLUSHVILLK- 

ON-SEA. 

By  the  Mayor  of  Slush ville-o.-S. 
Your  suggestion  that  I  should  writs 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CPIARIVARI. 


175 


(After  a  desperate  encounter  with  a  conger-eel,  which  takes  possession  of  the  boat,  Edwin  persuades  the  monster  to  return  to  its  element.) 
Extract  from  Angelina's  correspondettce:  "YESTERDAY  EDWIN  AND  I  CAUOHT  A  SPLENDID  CONGER -EEL,  BUT  UNFORTUNATELY  IT 

FELL  OVERBOARD." 


to  you,  pointing  out  the  many  advan- 
tages which  Slushville  oilers  to  com- 
petitors in  your  Happy  Moments 
contest,  is  one  that  I  readily  comply 
with.  [Idiot !  Don't  give  the  thing 
away.  It  was  supposed  to  he  spon- 
tautous! — Editor  of  Symposium.]  Of 
the  joy  to  be  had  at  Slusliville  I  will 
simply  say  that  the  town  supports  five 
conceit  parties,  three  hands,  and  a  scenic 
railway  ;  and  leave  intending  visitois  to 
judge  for  themselves.  I  should,  how- 
ever, add  that  on  the  morning  after 
last  August  Bank-Holiday  no  fewer 
than  seventy  -  five  cases  of  alleged 
inebriation  were  the  subject  of  judicial 
enquiry,  many  of  them  being  accom- 
panied by  disorderly  conduct.  Aud  yet 
they  say  that  the  English  take  their 
pleasures  sadly.  Not  at  Slushville  1 
AMOS  HIGGS, 

Mayor. 

HAPPY  MOMENTS  AT  TRIPTON. 

By  the  Deputy-Mayor  of  Tripton. 

The  only  objection  that  I  can  see  to 
urging  intending  competitors  for  your 
Million  Pound  Happy  Moments  to  seek 
them  at  Tripton  is  that  it  is  so  unfair  to 
all  the  others.  It  is  impossible  to  be 
anything  else  but  happy  at  Tripton. 
Why,  we  have  a  town-crier  who  is 
enough  to  make  a  cat  laugh.  Why 
not  photograph  hirn  ?  And  as  for 


"picturesque"  bits  they  abound.  What 
about  the  old  fish-market  (or,  to  avoid 
misunderstanding,  I  should  rather  say 
the  old  market  for  fish)  ?  Nor  will 
lovers  of  the  artistic  willingly  neglect 
such  a  spectacle  as  Sunset  on  the 
Tiam-terminus.  So  I  extend  a  hearty 
welcome  to  all  and  sundry.  Even 
should  you  fail — which  is  unlikely — 
to  secure  the  million,  you  will  at  least 
have  spent  a  happy  time  (and  I  hope 
much  else)  at  entrancing  Tripton. 
JOHN  BROWN, 

Deputy-Mayor  of  Tripton. 

HAPPY  MOMENTS  AT  SANDBOHOUGH. 
By  the  Chairman  Sandborough  Council- 
Salubrious  Sandborough  is  so  well 
known  as  the  chief  health  and  pleasure 
resort  in  the  British  Isles  that  any 
attempt  on  my  part  to  enlarge  upon  its 
many  advantages  in  a  competition  such 
as  the  one  that  you  are  so  generously 
instituting  would  only  be  to  gild  the 
already  refined  lily.  Passing  by,  there- 
fore, such  adjuncts  to  true  happiness 
as  our  covey  of  Arabian  donkeys  (un- 
equalled on  the  coast  for  speed  and 
comfort) ;  our  bathing  beach,  where  at 
high-water  mixed  bathing  (or  neat  if 
preferred)  may  be  enjoyed  with  absolute 
safety,  the  depth  never  exceeding  twelve 
inches ;  and  our  casino,  boasting  the 
most  matured  collection  of  illustrated 


papers  to  be  found  in  Great  Britain,  I 
would  draw  attention  to  the  important 
fact  that,  if  true  happiness  is  to  be  found 
in  health,  then  Sandborough  offers  both. 
For  the  past  twelve  months  our  death- 
rate  has  been  1  per  population,  that 
one  being  the  local  undertaker,  who 
died  of  starvation.  Need  I  say  more  ? 
Remember  the  old  phrase,  "  As  happy 
as  a  Sand(borough)-boy."  Come  then 
to  Sandborough,  and  win  the  prize. 

THOS.  J.    PlNKEKTON, 

Chairman  Sandborough  Urban  District 
Council  (but  counts  as  a  Mayor). 

And  so  on. 


The  Revolt  of  the  Missionary. 
The  Eastern  Daily    Press  on    the 
Human    Leopards'    Society    of    Can- 
nibals : — 

"Investigations  showed  the  state  of  things 
to  be  so  serious  that  a  special  tribunal  was 
appointed,  and  over  400  parsons,  including 
several  paramount  chiefs,  were  arrested." 
We  trust  that  no  Colonial  Bishops  are 
implicated  in  this  new  policy  of 
retaliation. .  , 

From  a  story  in  Pearson's  Magazine : 

"Mrs.   J.  G.'s  bosom  heaved,  her  eyelids 

snapped  open  and  shut,  and  she  glared  her 

defiance  at  her  husband.     J.  G.  sighedagain." 

He  never  did  like  his  wife's  transparent- 
eyelids. 


17G 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913. 


THE  FRIENDLY  WAITRESS. 

it/,  August  9//i. — Arrived  quite  safely  this  after- 
;noon'  at  Lcs  Yallons,  which  is  really  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful places  in  Switzerland.  A  grand  view  of  valley  and 
mountains.  Our  hotel  stands  high  and  commands  the.  best 
tof  the  scenery.  Mary  and  Dorothy  have  become  members 
of  the  Tennis  Club.  Little  Cynthia  and  Dick  are,  of  course, 
itoo  young,  but  there  is  plenty  of  amusement  for  them  in 
other  ways.  In  fact  this  is  an  ideal  place  for  children,  and 
Edith  and  I  are  sure  to  have  an  easy  time  in  looking  after 
them.  There  are  several  Russian  and  French  families  in 
our  hotel,  all  very  stout  and  jolly-looking.  We  seemed 
quite  sylph-like  in  comparison  with  them.  Curious  how 
foreigners  nowadays  run  to  fat.  We  all  dined  at  the  talk 
d'hote  in  the  evening.  We  were  looked  after  _by  the  head 
waitress,  who  insisted  on  our  taking  a  helping  of  every 
course.  She  is  extremely  friendly  and  seemed  hurt  by  the 
mere  idea  of  our  refusing  anything.  It  was  a  long  dinner, 
and  the  leg  of  mutton  struck  me  as  unnecessary  after  what 
we  had  already  eaten.  Children  a  little  flushed,  especially 
Cynthia. 

"Tuesday,  August  12/7i.— :At  the  table  'd'hdte  luncheon 
to-day,  the  two  top  buttons  of  little  pick's  shorts  gave  way 
with  a  loud  report.  Under  the  influence  of  our  waitress  he 
had  worked  his  way  steadily  through  all  the  courses  of  the 
luncheon,  which  had  included  chicken  patties  and  Irish 
stew  and  cauliflower  d  la  crime.  At  the  moment  he  was 
engaged  upon  caramel  pudding.  The  waitress  was  highly 
pleased.  She  said  he  was  increasing  in  weight  a  vue  d'ccil, 
which,  indeed,  is  true  of  all  of  us.  Mary  and  Dorothy  not 
so  keen  on  their  lawn-tennis  as  I  should  like  Edith's 
skirts  refuse  to  meet  round  the  waist,  and  I  myself  am  in 
great  trouble  with  iny  flannel  trousers.  Perhaps  they  have 
shrunk  in  the  wash.  The  waitress  continues  to  urge  us  on 
at  every  meal  and  we  dare  not  offend  her.  Where  will 
this  end  ? 

Thursday,  August  14th. — Had  intended  to  make  a  walking 
excursion  into  the  mountains  to-day,  but  when  the  time  for 
starting  came  could  not  move  family.  Though  it  was  only 
10.30  in  the  morning  they  were  all  asleep  in  the  drawing- 
room.  The  Russian  and  French  families  prefer  the  smoking- 
room.  The  Russian  snore  has  a  very  penetrating  bass  note. 
I  cannot  say  I  was  displeased  at  the  postponement  of  our 
walk,  for  the  mere  idea  of  exercise  under  a  hot  sun  was 
most  repulsive.  Instead  of  exhausting  ourselves  by  climbing 
steep  ascents  we  all  sat  and  watched  the  tennis  tournament. 
Coining  up  hill  afterwards  to  our  hotel,  Dick  and  Cynthia 
fell  down,  and  before  we  could  stop  them  they  had  rolled 
fifty  yards  to  the  bottom  of  the  slope,  where  they  lay,  unable 
to  get  up,  till  the  English  chaplain,  who  was  passing,  set 
them  on  their  legs  and  started  them  up-hill  again.  Edith 
and  I  felt  inclined  to  cry  with  vexation,  but  what  could  we 
do?  We  could  only  sit  still  on  a  wall  and  hope  for  the 
safety  of  our  children.  Mary  and  Dorothy  told  me  after- 
wards that  they  simply  couldn't  have  gone  down  to  the 
rescue  with  the  prospect  of  having  to  toil  up  again.  We 
hope  this  will  be  a  lesson'to  Cynthia  and  Dick,  but,  like  all 
children,  they  are  thoughtless.  At  dinner  to-night  three  of 
the  buttons  of  my  dress-waistcoat  suddenly  flew  off,  and 
one  of  them  hit  a  French  General  on  the  forehead.  He  was 
much  offended  and  said  he  had  not  the  habitude  to  receive 
blows  of  buttons  on  the  face  without  demanding  an  explana- 
tion. Mollified  him  with  some  difficulty.  The  misfortune 
was  ;entirely  due  to  a  poulet  chasseur,  au  riz  which  I  had 
intended  to  pass,  but  was  not  allowed  to  by  our  waitress. 

Saturday,  August  16th. — As  a  family  we  have  put  on  eight 
stone  since  we  came  here.  Am  afraid  this  is  not  necessarily 
a  sign  of  robust  health.  Every  article  of  everybody's 


wearing  apparel  has  had  to  bo  let  out  everywhere.  Havo 
arranged  to  leave  on  Monday  for  home.  Thank  heaven, 
only  two  more  table  d'hdte  dinners.  Our  faces  arc  all  cheek. 
If  wo  could  only  have  hunger-struck  all  would  have  been 
well,  but  the  amiability  of  the  waitress  made  it  impossible. 
Wonder  if  the  dogs  will  recognise  us  when  we  get  homa. 


THE   KING   WITH    A   SENSE   OF    HUMOUR. 

(A  Fable  for  Parents  and  Guardians.) 
LONG  years  ago,  in  Puritania's  realm, 
A  learned  King  stood  firmly  at  the  helm; 
A  man  of  blameless  and  industrious  life, 
Devoted  to  his  exemplary  wife, 
A  model  father,  generous  and  just, 
In  whom  his  subjects  placed  implicit  trust. 
And  yet  this  paragon  had  two  small  flaws: 
He  was  a  slave!  to  Logic's  ruthless  laws, 
And  owned  a  gift  of  humour  far  intenser 
Than  that  of  J.  S.  MILL  or  HEEBEET  SPENCEB. 
Yet  all  went  well  until  that  fatal  year 
When,  as  the  last  days  of  July  drew  near, 
At  Puritania's  greatest  public  school, 
Where  all  her  noble  sons  arc  taught  to  rule 
Her  subject  races,  of  all  hues  and  sizes, 
The  King  arranged  to  give  away  the  prizes. 

The  sun  shone  kindly  from  a  cloudless  sky, 

And  rank  and  fashion  loyally  stood  by 

As,  guided  by  the  Reverend  Head,  tho  King 

Inspected  practically  everything ; 

And  then,  proceeding  to  the  College  hall, 

Amid  the  cordial  cheers  of  great  and  small, 

Rewarded  with  gilt-edged  and  calf-bound  tomes 

The  scions  of  his  kingdom's  stately  homes. 

Then  as  the  last  prize-winner  sought  his  seat 

The  King,  whose  voice  though  guttural  was  sweet, 

Addressed  the  boys,  who  checked  their  loyal  din 

Till  you  might  hear  the  dropping  of  a  pin. 

He  said  it  gave  him  pure  and  genuine  joy 

To  watch  the  progress  of  the  human  boy, 

Especially  when  every  one  was  yearning 

To  beat  his  neighbour  in  the  race  of  learning. 

"  I  gather,"  he  continued,  "  from  your  Head 

That  you  are  all  contented  and  well-fed ; 

That  in  these  placid  groves  of  Academe 

Your  life  slips  by  like  some  celestial  dream ; 

That,  scorning  luxury  and  slothful  ways, 

You  lead  harmonious  and  laborious  days, 

And  never  taste  of  bitter  in  your  cup 

Save  at  your  periodic  breakings-up. 

Therefore,  because  your  ardent  courage  fulls 

When  you  are  exiled  to  your  fathers'  halls, 

I  have  prevailed  upon  your  worthy  Head, 

In  recognition  of  the  lives  you  've  led, 

To  grant  a  boon  as  welcome  as  unique 

And  lengthen  term-time  by  an  extra  week." 

si:  ***** 

Within  three  days  the  monarch's  blameless  life 
WTas  ended  by  a  young  assassin's  knife. 
Yet  there  are  British  parents,  I  am  told, 
Who  his  audacious  sentiments  uphold, 
Who  mourn  in  secret  his  untimely  doom 
And  offer  furtive  tribute  at  his  tomb. 


"Mrs. wore  a  lovely  dross  of  black  and  gold;  and  carried 

bouquet  of  yellow  roses  (ull  given  by  the  bride's  brother)." 

Isle  of  Man  limes. 
And  the  leaves,  too  ?     How  generous  1 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


rUNCII,   Oft  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


177 


Fallier  (finding  Iris  son  doing  nolliinj  in  particular  near  forbidden  cupboard).  "  BOBBIE,  HAVE  YOU  BEES  EATING  THE  JAM  AQAUJ?" 
Itoblie.  "  CAS  you  SEE  ANY  MARKS  nouso  MV  JIOUTH,  FATHER?"  Fatlier.  "  YES."  Bobbie.  "THEN  I  HAVI." 


.ivh 
i  scd 


PSEUDO-NEO-GREC. 

T)j:.ut  MR.  PUNCH,  —  So  many  of  my 
it  \  acquaintances  whom  I  have  con- 
slti'd  at  luncli  or  in  the  train  about 
i,  new  house  have  said,  "You  ought 
I  have  an  architect,"  that  I  feel  the 
eclosed  diary  is  of  public  interest. 

ivhow,  it  answers  the  objections 
to  my  project  of  designing  the 

0  Hl\S('ll'. 

1  enclose  my  card  and  am 

Yours  faithfully, 

BALBUS. 

.tne  9.  —  Feel  this  project  of  build- 
myself  a  house  biggest  event  in 
life.  Am  resolved  to  keep  diary. 
lironia  says,  "  Mind  you  (Jo  keep  it." 
\  ill.  Architect  calls  himself  Benson 
J  nson  Friba.  Odd  name  ;  but  Sir 
(prge  Bilger,  who  recommended  him, 
utcs  that  he  is  "the  coming  man." 

Tune  10.—  Not  much  done.  Did 
rt  know  architect's  address  except 
tit  it  was  Gray's  Inn  Square,  so 

?ed  man  with  broom  in  Square 
1'i-e  Benson  Friba's  office  was.  Man 
"Is  he  a  harshtect?"  Have 
liking  to  word.  At  entry  of 
indicated  by  man  found  name 


i! 


t  .011 

HlS3 


I'n ted  on  wall,  "Mr.  Benson  Benson, 


F.E.I.B.A.  (i.c.  "Fellow  of  the  Royal 
Institute  of  British  Harsh tects "). 
Sir  George  apparently  thought  "Friba" 
a  title  of  rank  similar  to  Pasha.  Found 
my  way  slowly  up  to  top  floor,  where 
Benson  nests  in  rookery  of  Fribas. 
Some  confusion  as  four  names  distri- 
buted among  three  doors  but  identified 
my  harsbtect's  door  at  last  and  knocked. 
Benson's  office  boy  sits  at  a  desk, 
looks  out  of  windows  and  taps  for  a 
living  with  a  pencil.  He  went  to  inner 
door,  came  back,  asked  me  to  take  seat 
and  resumed  his  tapping.  Studied 
framed  picture  titled  "  Proposed  house 
for  F.  Cheese,  Esqr.,"  and  discovered 
that  bicycle  accident  in  road  was  really 
nursemaid  with  perambulator  talking  to 
Arabian  dwarf  with  turban  and  naked 
scimitar.  Bell  rings  and  I  am  shown 
into  Benson's  room.  There  are  two 
dusty  silk  bats  on  top  of  cupboard, 
violoncello  case  and  golf  clubs  in 
corner,  and  Gladstone  bag  in  middle  of 
floor.  Benson  Friba  was  in  shooting 
clothes.  Nervous  manner;  pulls  his 
fingers  and  says,  "  I  see,  I  see,"  but  docs 
seem  to  understand.  Told  him  what  we 
wanted — i.e.,  library,  drawing-room, 
Brodie's  patent  self-cleansing  lavatory 
basins,  conservatory,  perforated  gauze 


to  larder  window  to  keep  out  flies, 
entrance  hall  with  alcove  at  side  for 
billiard  table  (full  size),  study,  boudoir, 
squash  racquet  court  at  back  and 
scraper  at  entrance  firmly  fixed  because 
ours  wobbled  about  and  the  man  who 
came  to  mend  it  did  not  do  it  properly. 
Dining-room,  of  course,  and  kitchen, etc. 

Friba  listens  nervously ;  says,  "I  see, 
I  see,"  and  then  asks,  "  What  style?" 

"A  thoroughly  good  style  of  house," 
I  tell  him.  He  means,  however,  what 
style  of  architecture.  "  What  building 
do  I  particularly  admire  ?  "  he  asks. 

"  Westminster  Abbey,"  I  tell  him. 

"I  see." 

Friba  then  pensive ;  finally  he  says, 
"The  sort  of  house  you  want  is  a 
Pseudo-neo-Grec  house." 

•Dol?" 
Yes." 

<  Oh,  all  right." 
Yes,  you  would  like  it." 
Would  I?" 

'  Yes." 

'  Bight ;  but  don't  forget  the  scraper 
and  the  fly  gauze." 

Friba  makes  note  on  blotting  pad 
and  asks  how  much  I  expect  to  spend. 

"At  the  outside?" 

•'  Certainly  at  the  outside." 


178 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20,  1913. 


"  Five  thousand." 

"I  see." 

When  I  told  Friba  we  wanted  French 
windows  to  drawing-room  he  became 
dejected.  Says,  "Then  it  can't  be 
Pseudo-neo-Grec."  Ho  explains  this  at 
great  length.  Seems  to  know  what  lie 
is  talking  about.  I  tell  him  "All  right, 
never  mind  the  French  windows,  but 
we  want  a  big  bay-window  to  library." 

"  You  won't  like  that,"  he  says. 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Well,  for  one  thing  it  isn't  Pseudo- 
neo-Grec." 

He  again  explains  at  length.  Evi- 
dently he  is  right. 

"  Well,  never  mind  the  bay-window, 
but  we  are  very  fond  of  oak  beams  and 
carved  gables,"  I  tell  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  is  out  of  the 
question,"  says  Friba. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it  isn't  Pseudo-neo-Grec." 

It  struck  me  Friba  was  coming  it  a 
bit  strong,  but  he  clearly  showed  me 
we  did  not  like  beams  and  carved  gables, 
but  only  thought  wo  liked  them. 

"  All  right ;  leave  'em  out." 

My  harshtect  waxes  enthusiastic  as 
we  discuss  the  house.  Says  he  will  send 
rough  sketches  and  then  we  can  talk 
over  details.  Bid  him  good-bye.  Then 
go  back,  put  my  head  in  at  the  door 
and  say,  "  Lots  of  cupboards,  please." 
Expect  to  hear  "  Pseudo-neo,"  &c.,  but 
Friba  (who  for  some  reason  has  begun 
to  undress)  agrees  at  once.  Good  chap, 
Friba.  Have  not  told  Sophronia  about 
windows  and  oak  timbers.  Shall  make 
most  of  cupboards. 

July  16. — Sketches  came  by  second 
post.  Fine -looking  house,  but  very 
strong  and  unpleasant  smell.  Don't 
understand  plans  yet.  Cannot  find  any 
scraper.  Only  one  cupboard. 

July  18. — Have  solved  plans  at  last. 
Friba  has  drawn  them  upside  down. 
No  scraper,  though  ;  and  can't  see  fly 
gauze.  Sophronia  discovered  three 
more  cupboards,  then  had  to  give  up 
owing  to  smell  of  paper.  No  conserva- 
tory, no  racquet  court,  no  verandah. 
Can't  understand.  Billiard-alcove  only 
fourteen  feet  square.  Wo  cannot  make 
out  what  thing  like  starfish  in  kitchen 
yard  is.  No  linen-room.  Have  written 
Friba  asking  why  no  verandah  or  con- 
servatory or  racquet  court. 

August  13. —  No  reply  from  Friba. 
Hear  he  is  in  Scotland.  Have  written 
asking  estimate  of  cost.  Sophronia 
has  discovered  another  cupboard. 
Starfish  proves  to  be  pattern  of 
paving. 

AugiistU. — Wire  from  Friba:  "Oban: 
Because  Pseudoneogrec." 

August  17. — Wire  from  Friba :  "  Pen- 
zance:  Estimate  from  twelve  to  four- 
teen thousand." 


A    DEBT    OF    HONOUR. 

BY  her  unhappy  machinations  my 
sister-in-law  has  landed  me  in  hot 
water  again,  and  I  am  in  need  of 
advice.  For  if,  on  the  one  hand  .  .  . 
but  perhaps  I  had  betler  first  give  you 
the  facts  and  then  you  can  judge  for 
yourselves. 

One  Sunday  in  April  I  was  sitting 
in  her  drawing-room  waiting  for  her 
to  offer  me  some  tea.  For  the  last 
twenty  minutes  I  had  been  throwing 
out  hints,  which  passed,  however,  un- 
heeded. Frances  does  talk  so. 

"This  morning,"  she  said,  breaking 
out  afresh  after  a  momentary  lull,  "  this 
morning  I  saw — what  do  you  think  ?  " 

"A  man  holding  a  mug,"  I  suggested 
hopefully. 

"  No.  Down  in  the  waterside  meadow 
I  saw  a  swallow.  Aren't  you  glad  it  "s 
the  spring  again  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  it  wasn't  a  labourer 
making  a  noise  that  looked  like  a 
swallow?"  I  asked,  with  grave  mis- 
givings. "  Spring  doesn't  really  begin, 
you  know,  till  I  've  ordered  my  fancy 
vests." 

"  My  dear  boy,  where  is  your  nose  ? 
Can't  you  smell  that  it 's  spring  in  the 
air,  in  the  earth,  in  the  trees — every- 
where? " 

I  took  a  sniff,  just  to  humour  her. 

"  I  can  only  smell  the  spring-clean- 
ing," I  said,  "  and  it  always  upsets 
me." 

I  sighed  and  went  on  with  my  thirst. 

"Now  that  spring  is  upon  us  once 
more,"  she  persisted  in  the  voice  of  one 
with  a  mission,  "there's  something 
I  've  been  wanting  to  speak  to  you 
about." 

She  paused.  I  cast  my  mind  hurriedly 
back  over  the  interval  since  last  1  had 
seen  her.  What  had  I  been  doing 
now? 

"It's  this,"  she  said  impressively: 
"  it 's  quite  time  you  thought  seriously 
of  settling  down.  Everybody  says  so." 

"  Don't  move.  1  'm  very  comfort- 
able, thanks." 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  mean. 
Think  how  nice  it  would  be,"  she  went 
on  in  mellifluous  tones,  "  to  have 
someone  always  to  love  and  protect, 
someone  to  welcome  you  at  night  and 
talk  to  you  when  you  'ie  lonely." 

I  thought  about  it. 

"  I  don't  see  much  in  it,"  I  said. 
"  Nothing  has  been  fixed  up  definitely, 
I  hope — not  for  a  day  or  two  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  so  absurd !  " 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  know,"  I 
replied.  "  Since  you  all  seem  to  have 
made  up  your  minds  about  it.  Produce 
the  bride,  then.  Where  is  she?  Why 
keep  her  skulking  in  the  background  ? 
Is  nothing  ready  for  me  ?  " 


Frances    gave    a    mysterious   smile ' 
which  annoyed  me. 

"  Please  understand,"  I  pursued,  with  ' 
some  heat,  "  I  'm  not  going  to  get  ' 
married  for  anyone,  unless  I  like.  And  \ 
at  present  I  don't  like.  .  .  .  Besides, 
I  can't  afford  it,"  I  added  a  little  too  \ 
hastily. 

"  What  ?     With- — why  you  're  not  in  ' 
debt  again  already  ?  " 

"  Er — technically- — you  see,"  I  pro- 
ceeded to  explain,  "it's  the  buttons. 
They  keep  on  coming  off.  And  so — 
what  happens — 

"  How  much  do  you  owe  your  tailor 
this  time?  "  She  eyed  me  severely  as 
she  spoke.  My  mind  never  works 
really  well  when  people  stare  at  me, 
and  my  memory  is  not  what  it  was. 

"  I  f-forget  for  the  moment.  But  I 
dare  say  I  could  find  out  for  you." 

"And  I  suppose  there's  a  lot  more 
besides?" 

"  Er — now  you  come  to  mention  it," 
I  began. 

"  I  thought  so.  Then  it 's  certainly 
time  you  had  someone  to  look  after 
you,"  she  announced  with  decision. 

"  That 's  not  what  you  said  just 
now,  you  know.  You  promised  me 
that  I  was  going  to  have  the  looking 
after  somebody.  That 's  not  fair." 

"  I  shall  see  about  it  at  once." 

"Give  me  till  tea-time,"  I  pleaded; 
"  I  'm  very  thirsty." 

"  Now  I  know  the  very  girl  for  you. 
She's  pretty,  has  a  nice  disposition, 
and  is  easily  pleased." 

"I  ask  you  for  tea,"  I  complained, 
"and  you  give  me  a  wife.  Why  is 
there  all  this  delay?  What  are  we 
waiting  for?  It  seems  to  me  this 
house  isn't  properly  managed." 

"  You  must  get  to  know  one  another. 
I  think  you  'd  make  a  very  good 
couple." 

"I  should  only  tread  on  her  toes," 
1  urged. 

"  Well,  you  shouldn't  be  so  clumsy," 
she  replied. 

I  sat  up  suddenly  and  gave  Frances 
a  piece  of  my  mind ;  and  there 's  more 
where  that  came  from. 

"  I  'm  not  clumsy.  On  the  contrary, 
I  'm  said  to  be  exceedingly  graceful. 
If  the  truth  were  known,  I  believe  you 
tell  them  to  put  their  feet  under  mine 
on  purpose  so  as  to  give  them  a 
secret  hold  over  me.  I  'm  not  clumsy. 
Clumsy  !  "  and  I  laughed  with  a  hollow 
mirth. 

"Her  name  is  Gwendolen,"  said 
Frances,  "Gwendolen  Hope.  Pretty 
name!  " 

"  A  very  nice  name,"  I  agreed. 

"  I  'in  glad  you  like  it,  because — 

"I  like  it  so  much,"  I  put  in 
pleasantly,  "that  it  seems  a  pity  tc 
disturb  it." 


AUGUST  20,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


179 


Tyro  (to  Scotch  chauffeur,  who  is  acting  as  loader).  "I  DON'T  KNOW  HOW  I  SHALL  GET  ON  WITH  THOSB  DRIVEN  BIBDS." 
Chauffeur.  "  YE  "LL  OFT  ON  ALL  RIGHT.    ALL  YE  "VE  GOT  TO  DAB'S  TO  POCB  IT  INTO  THEIB  BONNETS  WHEN  THEY 'BE  FLEEIH* 

TAB  YB,   AND  INTO  THEIB  DEFKERENTIAL8   WHEN  THEY  'RE   FLEEIN*   PAST  YE." 


"Because,"  she  continued,  rising  and 
ringing  i'or  tea,  "just  now  I  heard  a 
knock  at  the  door.  I  have  asked  her 
to  tea,  and  I  think  here  she  is.  Now 
mind  you  behave  yourself  [  " 

So  that  was  why  ....  I  jumped 
np  in  alarm,  preparing  for  flight,  but  it 
was  already  too  late.  The  door  opened 
and  the  bride-elect  was  shown  in.  She 
might  easily  have  been  worse  ;  in  fact 
she  was  really  rather  pretty.  She  wore 
a  white  serge  tailor-made  frock,  well- 
shaped  shoes,  and  brown  silk  stockings, 
which  I  like.  Yes,  she  might  very  well 
have  been  worse.  But  in  choosing  a 
wife,  especially  the  first,  one  has  to  be 
careful.  And  yet,  dear  friends,  so  in- 
scrutable are  the  workings  of  destiny 
that,  be  as  careful  as  you  may,  things 
have  a  way  of  turning  out  otherwise,  in 
spite  of  every  precaution.  Being  an 
actual  eye-witness,  I  will  try  to  explain 
to  you  exactly  what  happened.  What 
happened  was  this.  You  know  those 
cups  they  have  nowadays,  those  sense- 
less, precarious  things  with  no  balance 
to  speak  of?  Well,  I  was  handing  her 
her  third.  I  was  taking  particular 
pains  over  it,  for  I  knew  that  Prances' 
eye  was  upon  me.  Another  inch  and 
I  was  practically  there.  And  just  then 
(to  this  day  I  cannot  sufficiently  ac- 
count for  it)  something  (I  don't  know 
what  it  was)  suddenly  gave  way 
(without  any  warning  whatever)  in 


the  muscles  of  my  arm.  For  one 
awful  moment  .  .  .  .  "  I  've  done  it," 
I  whispered,  turning  bloodlessly  to 
Frances.  "  Look !  "  and  I  pointed  to 
Gwendolen's  lap. 

If  the  good  creature  had  only  had 
the  presence  of  mind  to  sit  still  1  A 
girl  at  all  handy  with  her  needle  could 
easily  have  let  in  a  new  piece,  and 
nobody  would  have  been  any  the  wiser, 
excepting  ourselves.  But  no.  Rising 
quickly  and  without  thought  she  spread 
it.  And,  whereas  a  small  concentrated 
pool  would  have  represented  all  the 
mischief  done,  many  tributaries  of  tea 
flowed  down  to  the  floor  in  every 
direction,  and  the  skirt  was  to  all  in- 
tents spoilt.  I  did  what  I  could.  I 
gave  her  my  handkerchief  and  a  spoon, 
and  knelt  down  to  point  out  the  worst 
places.  But  unless  she  is  not  very 
particular,  which  I  doubt,  she  will  never 
want  to  wear  it  again.  It  is  such  a 
mistake,  I  do  think,  for  mothers  to 
allow  young  and  inexperienced  girls  to 
wear  white,  especially  white  serge. 
Frances  was  obliged  to  lend  her  a  cloak 
to  go  home  in. 

And  now  the  question  remains,  what 
is  the  correct  thing  to  do  ?  According 
to  Frances,  having  gone  thus  far  and 
compromised  myself,  I  must  go  further. 
The  dictates  of  honour,  she  says,  com- 
pel me  to  offer  to  buy  the  young  person 
a  new  frock,  and  this  would  be  to  take 


an  intolerable  liberty  unless  I  first 
asked  her  hand  in  marriage.  And  I 
am  bound  to  admit  there  is  something 
in  what  she  says. 


Candour. 

"  Young  Man  teaches  Pianoforte,  practically 
and  theoretically,  4s.  monthly ;  painstaking 
with  beginners,  theoretically." 

Advt.  in  "  Dublin  Evening  Mail."  ' 

Practically — well,  you  should  hear  him. 

"  In  the  end  stumps  were  pulled  up  half  an 
hour  before  time,  three  having  then  fallen." 

Daily  Telegraph.  . 

By  which  time  even  a  single-wicket 
match  was  impossible. 

"FiBsr  ZINGARI  ».  GEOBOB  ORB'S  XI." 
Glasgow  Evening  News. 

The  First  Zingari,  who  are  very  proud 
of  being  first,  have  acquired  the  bad 
habit  of  calling  themselves  "  I  Zingari," 
instead  of  the  more  grammatical  "  We 
Zingari."  This  was  bound  to  lead  to 
trouble  sooner  or  later. 


"  A  pretty  Summer  Frock  in  spugged  crepon 
with  plague  of  Chinese  embroidery,  and  flat 
vassell  at  the  corsage." 

East  Anglian  Daily  Times. 

This  sounds  like  another  orgy. 

"Violent  guests  caught  us,  but  the  mono- 
plane behaved  splendidly  all  the  time." 

Daily  Mail. 

An  example  to  Ministers  attacked  by 
Suffragettes. 


180 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  20.  1913. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Sta/  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
NOTHING  about  Mr.  HALL  CAINE'S  latest  novel  impresses 
line  quite  so  much  as  its  ruthlessness,  the  ineluctable  vigour 
"of  its  advance.  lie  is  a  bloodhound  on  the  trail  of  pathos, 
tstretches  octopus  tentacles  of  coincidence,  out  of  the  pigeon- 
'holes  of  memory  plucks  like  a  hawk  every  topic  of  recent 
jinterest,  from  the  story  of  Marie  Claire  to  the  foibles  of  the 
Kmart  Set,  from  the  Minority  Report  on  the  Divorce  Com- 
mission to  the  discovery  of  the  South  Pole,  and  sweeps  them 
'all  onwards  to  the  great  and  final  thrill.  Mary  O'Neill, 
'the  heroine  of  The  Woman  Thoii  Gavest  Ma  (HKINEMAXN), 
[educated  in  a  convent,  was  forced  into  a  marriage  of 
."suitability"  with  the  dissolute  profligate  Lord  Raa  (situate 
on  the  Isle  of  Elian,  .wherever  that  may  be),  refused  to  be 
iliis  wife  in  more  than  name,  was  humiliated  because  he 
flaunted  his  mistresses  in  her  face,  found  no  sympathy  from 
Church,  relations,  or  law  in  her  struggle  for  freedom,  and  at 
last,  just  before  ho  sailed  for  Antarctic  parts,  gave  herself 
to  her  life-long  lover,  Martin 
Conrad.  When  she  found 
that  she  was  to  become  a 
mother  she  fled  to  London, 
suffered,  starved,  and  in  order 
to  keep  the  child  alive  was 
just  about  to  earn  the  wages 
of  infamy  on  the  night  when 
'Martin  (whose  ship  was  re- 
ported lost)  arrived  in  Lon- 
don, " '  Yes,  the  very  next 
man  who  comes  along,'  I 
.thought."  The  next  man  was 
Martin.  .  .  .  The  elements 
and  supernatural  omens  are 
pressed  with  equal  relentless- 
ness  into  the  awful  march. 
When  Mary  interviewed  the 
bishop  about  the  possibility 
of  divorce,  a  "  vast  concourse 
of  crows  "  was  holding  con- 
gress in  the  tall  elms  of 
Bishop's  Court."  As  she 
left,  "  a  dead  crow  tumbled  " 
from  one  of  them  to  the 
ground.  There  are  a  hundred-and-sixteen  chapters  in  The 
Woman  Thou  Gavest  Me,  and  a  great  many  tearful  incidents, 
but  I  think  I  felt  sorriest  about  tha  death  of  that  crow. 
Poor  bird. 

With  regard  to  Miss  King's  Profession  (MILLS  AND  BOON), 
I  am  in  the  same  position  as  if  I  had  come  across  an 
excellent  brew  of  home-made  lemonade,  a  liquor  which, 
however  good  of  its  kind,  I  should  hesitate  to  press  upon  a 
stranger  of  whose  taste  in  drinks  I  had  no  knowledge. 
There  are  those  who  neither  have  nor  desire  to  form 
acquaintance  with  such  a  mild  beverage.  Myself,  though 
no  literary  teetotaler,  I  found  the  book  most  refreshing. 
Mrs.  FRANCIS  CHANNON  writes  of  schoolgirls  and  primarily 
for  schoolgirls ;  in  her  ingenuous  and  innocent  plot  virtue 
of  the  more  homely  sort  triumphs  all  the  way.  But  if  the 
tale  is  not  intoxicating  it  is  by  no  means  flavourless ;  the 
career  of  Miss  Ki",g,  so  far  as  it  consists  of  Work  with  her 
Pen  (always  capitalized),  is  most  lively  and  cannot  but 
prove  amusing  and  instructive  to  all  who  Write,  have 
Written,  or  mean  to  Write.  This  young  lady,  having  dis- 
tinguished herself  at  school  by  composing  essays  elegant  in 
style  and  agreeable  in  sentiment,  settles  down  "with  serious 
purpose  and  at  regular  hours  to  develop  that  talent,  of  the 


THE  DOUBLE  LIFE  OF  A  CELEBRITY. 
THE  PBOPKIETOE  OF  THE  "EVERYBODY'S  Usiso  IT"  THOUSEK 
PHESS  MANUFACTOKY. 


possession  of  which  she  is,  like  the  rest  of  us,  inwardly 
conscious.  So  doing,  she  affords  Mrs.  CHANNON  the  oppor- 
tunity of  knocking  the  bottom  out  of  all  the  nonsense  which 
is  current  with  respect  to  the  Writing  and  publishing  of 
novels,  and  the  real  position  is  nicely  summed  up,  with  a 
simple  directness  and  many  sly  touches  of  humour,  as 
between  the  publishers  and  the  authors,  the  point  being 
that  if  thore  are  some  knaves  amongst  the  former  there  is  a 
much  larger  proportion  of  fools  among  the  latter.  In  the 
title,  moreover,  we  have  a  double  entente ;  there  is  another 
profession,  more  conventional  but  no  loss  honourable,  open 
to  Miss  King.  Men  who  still  believe  in  real  women,  and 
real  women  who  still  believe  in  themselves,  must  find  in  the 
conclusion  of  this  pretty  story  an  element  of  peace  and 
quiet  very  welcome  in  these  sexless  clays.  To  those  to 
whom  I  dare  not,  for  reasons  above  given,  recommend  the 
draught  as  a  thirst-quencher,  I  advise  it  with  some  con- 
fidence as  a  soothing  medicine  of  a  most  pleasing  nature. 

HAVE  you  ever  encountered  one  of  those  depressing  little 

volumes  published  in  the 
early  part  of  the  last  century 
(and  still  to  he  met  with  on 
second-hand  bookstalls,  or  the 
topmost  shelves  of  circulating 
libraries)  called  usually  by 
some  such  title  as  "  Irish  \Vit 
and  Humour  "  ?  Well,  though 
it  would  bo  unkind  to  suggest 
too  close  an  analogy  between 
these  and  KnockinscreenDays 
(METHUEN),  I  am  afraid  I 
must  confess  that  Mr.  JACKSON 
C.  CLARK'S  hook  did  remind 
me  of  them  more  than  a  little. 
The  trouble,  I  take  it,  for  all 
writers  of  Irish  studies  is  that, 
the  Irish  being  accepted  as  a 
race  of  comedians,  some  show 
of  Wit  and  Humour  has  to  be 
somehow  got  into  all  anec- 
dotes about  them.  On  the 
cover  of  this  volume,  for 
example,  is  an  illustration 
(reproducing  one  of  four 
excellent  drawings  to  be  found  within)  which  presents  a 
gentleman  in  a  farmyard  being  knocked  down  by  the  rush 
of  several  pigs,  while  a  small  boy  flourishes  a  blackthorn 
in  the  distance.  This  is  very  typical  of  the  ground  of  my 
complaint.  I  could  have  been  far  more  entertained  with 
the  doings  of  Mr.  CLARK'S  characters  had  they  been  less 
obviously  out  for  laughs  at  all  cost.  As  it  is,  his  pictures 
of  life  in  an  Ulster  village  have  at  least  a  topical  interest ; 
more  especially  in  such  examples  as  that  which  describes 
the  celebration  of  St.  Patrick's  Day  in  a  Protestant  neigh- 
bourhood, and  what  came  of  it.  As  for  Jimmy  McGaw, 
however,  whom  the  publishers  describe  as  "  a  manservant 
with  original  ideas,"  I  can  only  regret  that  I  found  his 
originality  too  farcical  to  be  amusing.  This  was  my  mis- 
fortune and  not  my  fault.  It  is  ill  dogmatizing  about 
humour.  Very  possibly  other  readers  may  be  more  happy : 
so  I  will  leave  it  at  that. 


Financial  Candour. 

From  a  circular : — 

"Quite  a  good  number  of  our  customers  have  taken  advantage  of 
this  gilt-edged  investment,  which  we  can  with  every  confidence  recom- 
mend as  a  stock  for  those  who  wish  their  money  placed  so  they  will 
have  no  further  trouble  with  regard  to  either  the  principal  or  interest." 


AUGUST  27,  1913.] 


ITM'II,   nli   TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


181 


CHARIVARIA. 


arc  poor."     If  it  will  help  at  all 
.wo  are  quito  willing  to  provide  a  home 


Tin:  Palace  of  Peace  is  to  hi-  upenid  for  some  of  them, 
nn  the  iJSth  inst.      A  little  while  ;i^<> 
it  \\iis  feared  that  tho  tenant  for  whom        The  necessity  of  fresh  air  for  pictures 

tho    magnificent   structure    had    been  is,  a  contemporary  informs  us,  being 

erected  would  be  unavoidably  prevented  cun-.ii!ered  by  the  Louvre  authorities. 

taking  up  residence  there,  but  it  is  now  The  idea  seems  to  have  been   lather 

l>lo  that  she  will  anyhow  be  able  overdone  in  the  case  of  "La  Gioconda." 


to  muki:  a  short  stay. 

:;:     fc 

It  is  stated  "on  tho  highest  autho- 
rity "  that  there  is  no  present  intent  ion 
to  make  any  Cabinet  changes.  In  Mr. 
KKPMOND'S  view,  the  "highest  autho- 
rity "  has  not  yet  been  consulted  on 


the  matter. 

•V1        ••• 

Says    The    Observer: — 
I  "Messrs.     Guinness    are    to 
i  a  brewery  in  tho  Man- 
chester district,  and  Messrs. 
|  Jacob  arc  to  open   a  bakery 
in    Lancashire.    .    .    .    These 
linns  are  the  largest  of  their 
kind    in   Ireland,    and   their 
determination     to     seek    in 
England    a    field    for    their 
•  •nterpriso  is  a  matter  which 
gives    food    for    reflection." 
But  is  beer  food?     Possibly 
when    one    remembers     the 
classic    dialogue — "  'Ad   any 


According  to  a  bulletin  issued  by 
specialists  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  Hos- 
pital, Baltimore,  appendicitis  and  other 
intestinal  diseases  are  due  to  gloomy 
spirits.  They  declare  that  an  abso- 
lutely certain  preventive  for  appendi- 


mounlod    the    pavement;.     It    is    not 


known  what  Mr.  PATKKSON  bad 
to  annoy  tho  car. 


(lone 


A  suggestion  has  been  made  that,  in 


of  children  who 
labels  should  bo 


breakfast, 
drop!" 


Bill?' 


'Not   a 


A  refreshment  pavilion  in 
King  Edward  Park,  Willes- 
ilen,  has  been  burned  down 
hy  Suffragettes.  They  are 
surely  carrying  their  hunger- 
strikes  to  absurd  lengths. 

A  doctor  has  been  recom- 
mending the  telephone  as  a 
cure    for   deafness.     We 
believe    there    is    something 
in  the  idea.     We  have  more  — 
than    once    succeeded    ultimately    in 
making  a  telephone  assistant  hear  our 


view  of  tho  number 

are  lost  every  year, 

attached  to  every  child,  giving  its  name 

and  address.    The  idea  might  be  carried 

further.     If  the  words  "  OF  NO  VAI.UK 

EXCEPT  TO  OWNER  "  wore  to  bo  added, 

much  kidnapping  might  be  avoided. 


INTO   THE    FIRE. 

[Fighting  at   bargain  sales,   says  a  dail/ 
paper,  is  growing  obsolete.] 

WHEN  Ennyntrudo  from  Ox- 
ford Street  hies  back 
She  looks  not  like  a  Munad 
who  has  revelled 

The  long  night  through.   Her 

eyes  are  never  black, 
Nor  rent  her  robes ;  her  hair 
is  undishevelled ; 

She  does  not  hurl  the  name 
(as  once  she  hurled) 

Of  "  cat "  at  every  woman  in 
the  world. 

Her   temperature  is  normal, 

suave  her  smile ; 
Her   manner    sweet    that 
formerly  was  acid ; 

She   heaps   her   acquisitions 

in  a  pile 

Upon  the  floor,  and  scans 
them,  proud  but  placid. 

But    oh,    that    heap,    onca 
moderately  slight, 

Has  risen  to  a  most  appal- 
ling height. 


FORCE  OF  HABIT. 
Stranger  (to  Well-known  Occupant  of  Treasury  Bench).  "  EXCUSE 

ME,    SlB,    BUT  IS   THIS   THE   WAY  TO  Si.   PAUL'S  CATHEDRAL?" 

Well-lcnoicn  Occupant  of  Treasury  Bench.  "TuE  ANSWEB  is  is  THE 


glance. 


The 


call    after    what     appeared 
sustained  attack  of  deafness. 


to    be    a 


In  spite    of 
Mr.    DUNNE'S 


the   assertion   that   in. 
invention     the     safety 


aeroplane  has  been  discovered  at  last, 
the  promoters  of  the  Channel  Tunnel 
intend  to  persevere  with  their  project. 

:|:     :!: 

It  is  suggested  by  The  Hospital  that 
wild  flowers,  which  can  be  sent  cheaply 
i>y  post  or  rail,  would  be  welcome  gifts 
m  the  hospital  wards.  It  is  important, 
however,  that  they  should  not  be  too 


"  The  bilberry  harvest,"  we  read,  "  is 
now  being  gathered  on  the  mountains 
in  the  Lake  district.  The  fruit  this 


citis  is  to  smile  habitually.  An  un- 
fortunate friend  of  ours  who  tried  this 
has,  it  is  true,  not  been  operated  on  for 
appendicitis ;  he  has,  however,  been 
relegated  to  a  lunatic  asylum. 

It  is  announced  that  for  the  Con- 
fectioners' Exhibition,  which  opens  at 
the  Agricultural  Hall  on  September  G, 
a  cake  is  to  be  made  16  feet  in  height 
with  a  base  of  9  to  10  feet  in  diameter. 
We  are  sorry  to  hear  that  a  number  of 
little  boys  are  already  being  medically 
treated  for  delirium  brought  on  by  a 

mere  perusal  of  the  announcement. 

#  « 

Looking  into  a  stationer's  shop  in 
Great  Newport  Street  one  evening  last 
week,  Mr.  ANDREW  PATERSON,  a  visitor 
from  Montreal,  was  hurled  through  the 
window  by  a  motor  car  which  had 


1  see  it   at   a 

hours  she  spends 
In   steady  purchase  now, 

in  strife  and  rages 
She  squandered  once.     Sue 
buys  threefold,  and  lends 
Most  rapid  wings  to  my  hard-gotten 

wages. 
"Ah,  would  again,"  I  am  inclined  to 

wail, 

"  That  Ermyntrude  were  at  it  tooth  and 
nail ! " 


Triangular  Cricket. 
"Tho  home  side  were  mainly  indebted  to 
S.  G.  Smith,  Ilaywood,  and  C.  N.  WooUey 
coming  together  when  the  second  wicket  went 
down  at  57." — Daily  Chronicle. 


' '  These  conditions  were  embodied  in  > 
document  which  was  signed  by  tho  Hcmminga, 
and  Mr.  A.  Mills,  tho  three  great  Homming.«. 
and  Mr.  A.  B.  Mills,  tho  three  Great  Western 
Railway  officials,  and  six  men  who  formed 
tho  deputation." — Western  Horning  News. 

We  regret  that  wo  have  never  heard 
of  these  famous  brothers. 


vor..  cxi.v. 


182 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  27,  1913. 


THE  SPREADING  WALNUT-TREE. 

WE  were  having  breakfast  in  tho 
garden  with  the  wasps,  and  Peter  was 
enlarging  on  tho  beauties  of  the  country 
round  his  new  week-end  cottage. 

"Then  there's  Hilderton,"  ho  said; 
"that's  a  lovely  little  village,  I  'm  told. 
We  might  explore  it  to-morrow." 

Celia  woke  up  suddenly. 

"  Is  Hilderton  near  here?"  she  asked 
in  surprise.  "  But  I  often  stayed  there 
when  1  was  a  child." 

"  This  was  years  ago,  when  Edward 
the  Seventh  was  on  tho  throne,"  I 
explained  to  Mrs.  Peter. 

"  My  grandfather,"  went  on  Celia, 
"lived  at  Hilderton  Hall." 

There  was  an  impressive  silence. 

"  You  see  the  sort  of  people  you  're 
entertaining,"  I  said  airily  to  Peter. 
"  My  wife's  grandfather  lived  at  Hilder- 
ton Hall.  Celia,  you  should  have 
spoken  about  this  before.  It  would 
have  done  us  a  lot  of  good  in  Society." 
I  pushed  my  plate  away.  "  I  can't  go 
on  eating  bacon  after  this.  Where  are 
the  peaches  ?  " 

"I  should  love  to  see  it  again." 

"If  I'd  had  my  rights,"  I  said,  "I 
should  be  living  there  now.  I  must 
put  my  solicitor  on  to  this.  There 's 
been  foul  play  somewhere." 

Peter  looked  up  from  one  of  the 
maps  which,  being  new  to  the  country, 
he  carries  with  him. 

"I  can't  find  Hilderton  Hall  here," 
he  said.  "  It  *s  six  inches  to  the  mile, 
so  it  ought  to  be  marked." 

"  Celia,  our  grandfather's  name  is 
being  aspersed.  Let  us  look  into  this." 

We  crowded  round  the  map  and 
studied  it  anxiously.  Hildejrton  was 
there,  and  Hilderton  House,  but  no 
Hilderton  Hall. 

"  But  it's  a  great  big  place,"  protested 
Celia. 

"  I  see  what  it  is,"  I  said  regretfully. 
'•  Celia,  you  were  young  then."  ' 

"Ten." 

"  Ten.  And  naturally  it  seemed  big 
to  you,  just  as  Yarrow  seemed  big  to 
WORDSWORTH,  and  a  shilling  seems  a 
lot  to  a  baby.  But  really " 

"  Eeally,"  said  Peter,  "  it  was  semi- 
detached." 

"  And  your  side  was  called  Hilderton 
Hall  and  the  other  side  Hilderton 
Castle." 

"  I  don't  believe  it  was  even  called 
Hilderton  Hall,"  said  Peter.  "  It  was 
Hilderton  Villa." 

"  I  don't  believe  she  ever  had  a 
grandfather  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Peter. 

"  She  must  have  had  a  grandfather," 
I  pointed  out.  "  But  I  'm  afraid  he 
never  lived  at  Hilderton  Hall.  This 
is  a  great  blow  to  me,  and  I  shall  now 
resume  my  bacon." 


I  drew  my  plate  back  and  Peter 
returned  his  map  to  his  pocket. 

"  You  're  all  very  funny,"  said  Celia, 
but  I  know  it  was  Hilderton  Hall. 
I  've  a  good  mind  to  take  you  there 
this  morning  and  show  it  to  you." 

"  Do,"  said  Peter  and  I  eagerly. 

"  It 's  a  great  big  place — 

"  That 's  what  we  're  coming  to  see," 
I  reminded  her. 

"  Of  course  they  may  have  sold  some 
of  the  land,  or — I  mean,  I  know  when 
I  used  to  stay  there  it  was  a — a  great 
big  place.  I  can't  promise  that  it — 

"  It 's  no  good  now,  Celia,"  I  said 
sternly.  "  You  shouldn't  have  boasted." 

Hilderton  was  four  miles  off,  and  we 
began  to  approach  it — Celia  palpably 
nervous — at  about  twelve  o'clock  that 
morning. - 

"  Are  you  recognising  any  of  this  ?  " 
asked  Peter. 

"  N-no.  You  see  I  was  only  about 
eight " 

"  You  must  recognise  the  church," 
I  said,  pointing  to  it.  "  If  you  don't, 
it  proves  either  that  you  never  lived  at 
Hilderton  or  that  you  never  sang  in  the 
choir.  I  don't  know  which  thought 
is  the  more  distressing.  Now  what 
about  this  place  ?  Is  this  it  ?  " 

Celia  peered  up  the  drive. 

"N-no;  at  least  I  don't  remember 
it.  I  know  there  was  a  walnut-tree  in 
front  of  the  house." 

"  Is  .that  all  you  remember?" 

".Well,  I  was  only  about  six " 

Peter  and  I  both  had  a  slight  cough 
at  the  same  time. 

,i  "It's  nothing,"  sad  Peter,  finding 
Gelia's  indignant  eye  upon  Kim.  "  Let 's 
go  on."  . 

We  found  two  more  big  houses,  but 
Celia,  a  little  doubtfully,  rejected  them 
both.' 

"  My  grandfather-in-law  was  very 
hard  to  please,"  I  apologised  to  Peter. 
"  He  passed  over  place  after  place 
before  he  finally  fixed  on  Hilderton 
Hall.  Either  the  heronry  wasn't 
ventilated  properly,  or  the  decoy  ponds 
had  the  wrong  kind  of  mud,  or " 

There  was  a  sudden  cry  from  Celia. 

"  This  is  it,"  she  said. 

She  stood  at  the  entrance  to  a  long 
drive.  A  few  chimneys  could  be  seen 
in  the  distance.  On  either  side  of  the 
gates  was  a  high  wall. 

"  I  don't  see  the  walnut-tree,"  I  sa-id. 

"Of  course  not,  because  )OU  can't 
see  the  front  of  the  house.  But  I  feel 
certain  that  this  is  the  place." 

"  We  want  more  proof  than  that,' 
said  Peter.  "  We  must  go  in  and  find 
the  walnut-tree." 

"  We  can't  all  wander  into  anothei 
man'sgrounds  looking  for  walnut-trees,' 
1  said,  "  with  no  better  excuse  than  that 
Celia's  great -grandmother  was  once 


asked  down  here  for  the  week-end  and 
stayed  for  a  fortnight.     We — 

"  My  grandfather,"  said  Celia  coldly, 
'  lived  here." 

"  Well,  whatever  it  was,"  I  said, 
'we  must  invent  a  proper  reason. 
Peter,  you  nrght  pretend  you  've  come 
iO  inspect  the  gas-rneter  or  the  milk 
or  something.  Or  perhaps  Celia  had 
aetter  disguise  herself  as  a  Suffragette 
and  say  that  she  's  come  to  borrow  a 
box  of  matches.  Anyhow,  one  of  us 
must  get  to  the  front  of  the  house  to 
search  for  this  walnut-tree." 

"  It — it   seems    rather    cheek,"   said 
elia  doubtfully. 

"  We'll  toss  up  who  goes." 

We  tossed,  and  of  course  I  lost.  I 
went  up  the  drive  nervously.  At  the 
first  turn  1  decided  to  be  an  insurance- 
inspector,  at  tho  next  a  scout-master, 
but,  as  I  approached  the  front  door,  I 
thought  of  a  very  simple  excuse.  I 
lang  the  bell  under  the  eyes  of  several 
people  at  lunch  and  looked  about 
eagerly  for  the  walnut-tiee. 

There  was  none. 

"  Does  Mr. — er — Erasmus — er — Per- 
cival  live  here?''  I  asked  the  footman. 

"  No,  Sir,"  he  said — luckily. 

"  Ah  1  Was  there  ever  a  walnut — I 
mean  was  there  ever  a  Mr.  Percival 
who  lived  here  ?  Ah !  Thank  you," 
and  I  sped  down  the  drive  again. 

"  Well?  "  said  Celia  eagerly. 

"  Mr.  Percival  doesn't  live  there." 

"  Whoever  'e  Mr.  Percival  ?  " 

''•Oh,  I  forgot;  you  don't  know  him. 
Friends,"  I  added  solemnly,  "  1  regret 
to  tell  you  there  is  no  walnut-tree." 

"I  arn  not  surprisec',"  Slid  Peter. 
'  The  walk  bom :  was  a  silent  one. 
For  the  rest  of  the  day  Celia  was 
thoughtful.  But  at  the  end  of  dinner 
S  e  brightened  up  a  little  and  joined 
m  the  conversation. 

"  At  Hilderton  Hall,"  she  said  sud- 
denly, "  we  always " 

'  "  H'r'm,"  I  said,  clearing  my  throat 
loudly.  "  Peter,  pass  Celia  the  wal- 
nuts.' 

*  *  *  *          * 

I  bave  had  great  fun  in  London  this 
week  with  the  walnut  joke,  though 
Celia  says  she  is  getting  tired  of  it. 
But  I  had  a  letter  from  Peter  to-day 
which  ended  like  this: — 

"  By  the  way,  I  was  an  ass  last 
week.  I  took  you  to  Banfield  in  mis- 
t  ike  for  Hikterton.  I  went  to  Hilderton 
yesterday  and  found  Hilderton  Hall- 
a  large  place  with  a  walnut-tree.  It 's 
a  little  way  out  of  the  village,  and  is 
marked  big  on  the  next  section  of  the 
map  to  the  one  we  were  looking  at. 
You  might  tell  Celia." 

True,  I  might  .  .  . 

Perhaps  in  a  week  or  two  I  shall. 

A.  A.  M. 


AWUST  27,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  TI1K  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


185 


DEBATE  ON  SPORTS'  OFFICE  VOTE. 

MR.  BONAR  LAW  rose  amidst  loud 
Opposition  cheers  to  move  the  reduc- 
tion of  the  vote  for  the  Minister  of 
Sports'  salary  by  £100  :  — 

"  Sir,  the  conduct  of  Ministers, 
degraded,  corrupt  and  incompetent  as 
it  is  in  all  spheres,  is  peculiarly  base  in 
the  domain  of  sport.  Wo  see  foreigners 
unchecked,  untaxed,  subsidised  by  their 
respective  Governments,  enter  our 
competitions  and  carry  off  our  treasured 
trophies  to  other  lands.  This  serious 
drain  of  silver  pots  must  not  be  allowed 
to  continue.  1  put  aside  with  contempt 
the  fallacy  that  we  regain  the  value  of 
the  cups  because  they  are  carried 
abroad  in  British  ships.  I  say 
emphatically  that  unless  foreign  com- 
petitors are  handicapped  on  British 
ground  our  day  is  done.  We  cannot 
pretend  to  stand  up  against  the  com- 
petition of  a  protected  world.  Unless 
foreign  athletes  are  compelled  when 
performing  to  bear  a  burden  of  at  least 
ten  per  cent,  of  their  own  weight " — 
(Mr. SWIFT MACNEILL:  "PoorHACKEN- 
SCFTMIDT  !  ") — -"there  is  no  hope  of  re- 
gaining our  national  supremacy. 

'•  Wherever  one  looks  in.  the  field  of 
British  sport  one  sees  cause  for  grave 
uneasiness.  So  far  this  season  the 
aggregate  attendances  at  the  Chelsea 
Football  Ground  have  only  increased 
by  thirty  thousand" — (Mr.  GHIOZZA 
MONEY:  "Hear,  hear.") — "That  may 
sat  is  f y  the  honourableMember  for  North- 
amptonshire (E.),  but  the  thoughtful 
sportsman  will  contemplate  the  German 
figures.  The  Berlin  clubs  have  this 
season  increased  their  aggregate  attend- 
ances twenty- five  per  cent."  —  (Mr. 
ROWLAND  HUNT  :  "  Shame !  Let 's  have 
a  war,"  and  laughter) — "  twenty-five 
per  cent.,  and  the  Chelsea  increase  is 
only  ten  per  cent.  If  this  continues 
where  shall  we  be  ?  I  see  the  hand- 
writing on  the  wall.  The  day  will 
come,  given  a  prolongation  of  the  rule 
of  this  the  worst  of  all  Governments, 
when  excursionists  will  rush  from  this 
country  to  see  the  German  Cup  Final 
at  Berlin."  (Loud  Opposition  cheers.) 

"Again,  I  accuse  the  Government  of 
gross  neglect  in  not  enforcing  the 
Aliens  Act  against  foreign  professionals. 
Blackburn  Eovers  have  spent  £5,000 
on  a  centre-forward  from  Prague.  The 
Cobdenite  fallacies  die  hard  in  Lan- 
cashire. Sheffield  United  have  given 
British  gold  for  a  Peruvian  half-back. 
English  money  leaves  the  country, 
English  footballers  are  thrown  out  of 
work,  and  the  Government  sits  supine, 
content  if  they  have  robbed  a  Church, 
ruined  an  Empire,  debased  football  and 
drawn  their  salaries."  (Loud  cheers 
and  a  Voice :  "  Eub  it  in  !  ") 


Gladys.  "Oir,  BEET,  I  TVOXDEH  IF  THKRK  ABE  ASK  STALACTITES  IN  THIS  CAVK?" 

Bert.    "\VKLt,   IP  THERE   ARE,    HAVEN'T  I   GOT  THIS   STICK  TO   DEFEND  YOU   WITH?" 


"  But  I  have  an  even  graver  accusa- 
tion to  bring  against  this  all-iniquitous 
Government.  There  is  nothing  in  the 
realm  of  sport  more  important  than  the 
Derby.  When  the  turf  was  nationalised 
I  predicted  that  corruption  would  creep 
in  even  with  the  sport  of  kings.  This 
year  there  chanced  to  be  an  Italian 
runner  for  the  Derby.  It  was  fairly 
obvious  that  Ministers  wished  it  to 
win.  They  could  not  hide  their  love 
for  the  foreigner.  I  state  with  regret 
that  the  CHANCELLOR  OF  THE  EX- 
CHEQUER and  the  ATTORNEY-GENERAL 
received  racing  tips  from  the  trainer  of 
this  foreign  horse.  The  trainer  was 
the  ATTORNEY  -  GENERAL'S  brother. 
And  I  may  say  that  if  there  is  any  in- 
tention of  promoting  the  right  honour- 
able gentleman  to  the  important  post 
of  Judge  on  the  Government  race- 
courses " — (The  Chairman  :  "  Order, 
order.  That  question  hardly  arises  on 
this  vote.") — "  in  any  case  this  tip 
enabled  the  CHANCELLOR  OF  THE  EX- 


CHEQUER to  pile  up  an  immense  for- 
tune." (Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  :  "  Well, 
now  I  must  explain.  I  have  made  no 
fortune.  1  am  a  poor  man.  The  horse 
ran  thirteenth.  And,  to  show  that  I 
was  not  actuated  by  motives  of  personal 
gain,  let  me  state  publicly  that  I  have 
not  yet  paid  the  Bookmaker."  Loud 
Ministerial  cheers.) 

"  I  am  content  to  leave  it  at  that. 
Wo  see  the  highest  legal  authority  of 
the  Crown  accepting  racing  tips.  We 
see  England's  CHANCELLOR  OF  THE 
EXCHEQUER,  who  should  be  the  acutest 
financier  of  the  country,  squandering 
his  money  on  '  also  rans.'  Would  Mr. 
GLADSTONE  havo  done  that?" — (Oppo- 
sition shouts  of  "  Never.") — "  Would 
even  the  present  PREMIER,  enemy  of  the 
Empire  as  he  is,  deliberately  use  his 
position  to  back  '  also  rans '  ?  I  doubt 
it.  Would  he,  if  he  had  made  a  specu- 
lative investment,  decline  to  pay  his 
bookmaker?" — (Cocoa  Member:  "I 
hope  so.") — "  I  am  sorry  that  even  one 


186 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  27,  1913. 


of  his  supporters  should  have  so  low  an 
opinion  of  him. 

"  Sir,  I  have  shown  the  Government 
to  be  incapable,  base,  corrupt,  and  the 
friends  of  the  foreigner.  I  have  proved 
them  to  be  the  enemies  of  British 
sport,  and  it  is  my  painful  duty  to 
move  the  reduction  of  this  vote  by 
£100."  (Loud  and  continued  cheering.) 


"GENTLEMEN,  THE  DRAMA!" 

A  MEETING  of  dramatists  to  consider 
Mr.  CYRIL  MAUDE'S  suggestion  that 
play-writing  should  be  systematically 
taught  in  schools  has  just  been  held 
in  the  operating  theatre  at  Guy's 
Hospital.  Mr.  WALKLEY  was  in  the 


wholly  owing  to  the  absence  of  Mr. 
MAUDE'S  scheme  of  instruction.  Ilence- 
fonvard  he  saw  no  reason  why  any 
play  should  fail.  It  was  not  as  if 
personality  counted,  as  in  other  forms 
of  art,  or  as  if  a  sense  of  life  was  neces- 
sary. (Cheers  and  counter-cheers.) 

Mr.  GHANVILLE  BARKER  denied  that 
the   writing   of    real    plays   could    be 


agreed  with  every  word  that  Mr. 
MAUDE  had  said.  Play-writing  could 
be  taught  and  should  be  taught — in 
fact,  ho  had  done  something  to  teach  it 
himself,  as  readers  of  his  "  How  to  do 
it  like  billy-oh"  papers,  recently  running 
in  TheEiiglishlicvicw,  would  remember. 
All  that  was  needed  was  a  clear-headed 
expository  instructor,  an  apt  pupil, 


taught.      Only  genius,  he  held,  could  paper,  pen  and  ink.     If  they  had  a  few 
produce  plays  sufficiently  true  and  drab   minutes  to  spare  he  would  show  them. 


to  empty  the  theatre;  which  was,  he 
said,  the  aim  of  all  conscientious  crafts- 
men. Mere  entertainments  no  doubt 


(Panic.) 

Sir  ARTHUR 


PINERO   paralysed   the 


company  by  asking  in  what  way  his 


Chair,  and  he  was  supported  by  some  of  room.) 

the  leading  dramatists  of  the  country,  I      Mr.  Louis 

including  Mr.  MAX  PEM- 

BEHTON,  the  Eevue  King. 

Mr.  MAUDE   was   also 

present. 

In  his  opening  re- 
marks Mr.  WALKLEY  said 
that  his  own  opinion  was 
that  everything  that  the 
budding  dramatist  need 
know  was  contained  in 
the  Poetics  of  ARISTOTLE. 
(Groans.)  The  misery 
of  gentlemen  present,  he 
added,  did  not  alter  the 
fact.  He  was  born  lisp- 
ing ARISTOTLE'S  name, 
and  if  ever  he  died,  which 
was  unlikely,  no  doubt 
it  would  be  with  ARIS- 
TOTLE'S name  on  bis  lips. 
(Renewed  commotion.) 

Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW 
said  that  too  much  fuss 
was  being  made  about 


could  be  knocked  up,  but  not  first-class  latest  play  would  have  been  improved 
plays  of  the  order  indicated.     (At  this   had  he  attended  a  class  for  dramatists, 
moment  a  painful  sensation  was  caused 
by  Mr.  SHAW'S  sorrowfully  leaving  the 


N.  PARKER,  who  looked 


THE  CHANNEL  TUNNEL. 

TrMID  PEOPLE,  EVEN  IN  THE  IMPROBABLE  EVENT  OP  A  HOSTILE  FORCE 
BEIXG  IN  POSSESSION  OF  CALAIS,  NEED  HAVE  NO  FEAR  WHILST  WE  HAVE 
STURDY  BRITISH  CONDUCTORS  ON  THE  TRAINS. 


what  was,  after  all,  only  a  trick.  Play- 
writing  was  a  gift  which  some  men, 
such  as  himself,  had,  and  others,  such 
as  SHAKSPEAHE,  had  not.  He  would  be 
ishamed  to  spend  more  than  a  few 
iours  on  any  play,  however  masterly. 
[Sensation.)  The  idea  of  teaching  play- 
writing  was  only  one  degree  more  ab- 
surd than  teaching  cricket.  (Oh  1  Oh  !) 
Sir  JAMES  BARBIE  wished  Mr.  MAUDE'S 
jroject  every  success.  Nothing  could 
>e  easier,  he  held,  than  to  teach  suc- 
cessful play-writing.  In  Mr.  MAUDE'S 
words  the  pupils  "  would  have  exercises 
n  dialogue,  and  would  be  taught  con- 
ciseness, crispness,  and  how  to  make 
points.  Then  they  would  learn  the 
^instruction  of  a  play,  openings,  cur- 
ains,  and  all  the  vital  matters  which 
pell  the  difference  between  failure  and 
uccess."  Well,  Sir  JAMES  asked,  what 
ould  be  simpler  than  that  ?  Crispness 
nd  point  were,  of  course,  at  any  one's 
ervice,  and  the  circumstance  that  so 
many  plays  were  dull  and  ill-made  was 


somewhat  fatigued  from  his  efforts  in 
dramatising  the  Old  Testament  and 
satisfying  Mr.  BROOKFIELD  with  his 
tact  and  discretion,  offered  to  teach 
play-writing  to  any  pupil  in  six  months 
— "  provided  he  had  the  mind."  (Mr. 
CYRIL  MAUDE  :  "  I  forgot  that.") 

Mr.  GALSWORTHY  agreed  that  play- 
writing  could  be  preceded  by  much 
useful  learning;  but  it  was  not  the 
learning  of  the  schools  but  of  the  hard 
grey  world.  Coal  mines,  factories, 
prisons,  mean  streets — these  were  the 
proper  training-ground  of  the  drama- 
tist. (Cries  of  Help !) 

Mr.  CECIL  RALEIGH  urged  that  Mr. 
GALSWORTHY  had  omitted  the  best 
school  of  all- 
DEANE'S  court. 
'  is  two  boards 
(Loud  cheers.) 

The  Revue  King,  who  was  greeted 
with  cries  of  "  No !  No !  "  sat  down 
again  amid  great  applause. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  said  that  he 


—  Justice  BARGHAVE 
"  All  I  ask,"  he  said, 
and  a  divorce  case." 


No  one  replying,  he  sat  down  in  silent 
and  sarcastic  triumph. 

In  the  gloom  that  followed,  the  meet- 
ing silently  dispersed,  and  Mr.  MAUDE 
—  returned  to  his  theatre  to 
i  complete     arrangements 
for  a  number  of  new 
plays,  none  of  which  was 
writtenunderinstruction. 
We  hear  that  several  of 
the  public  schools  have 
taken  so  kindly  to  Mr. 
|  MAUDE'S  suggestion  that 
;  they  are  already  in  nego- 
;  tiation  with  well-known 
(dramatists  to   act   as 
I  coaches.     Alter  the  pas- 
|  sage  in  Peter  and  Wendy 
(describing     Captain 
\  Hook's    education,    the 
headmaster  of  Eton  had 
no    alternative    but    to 
invite  Sir  JAMES  BARBIE 
to  instruct  the  Etonians 
whom    he     understands 
so    well.      Harrow    has 
thrown    out    feelers   to- 
-  wards  the  Brothers  MEL- 
VILLE.    Mr.  MAUGHAM  goes  to  Rugby, 
Mr.  HOUGHTON  to  Winchester,  Mr.  DE 
COUEVILLE  to  Ardingly,  and  Mr.  GALS- 
WORTHY to  the  School  of  Economics. 

Meanwhile  The  Daily  Sale,  ever  on 
the  look-out  for  objects  for  its  single- 
minded  munificence,  is  offering  £5,000 
(five  thousand  pounds)  for  the  best  play 
written  by  a  school-boy  under  sixteen 
fresh  from  a  dramatic  class,  to  be 
entitled  The  Failure  of  Pickles.  The 
editor's  decision  to  be  final.  A  further 
sum  of  £2,000  (two  thousand  pounds) 
for  the  best  "  Pirnplet "  concocted  from 
the  above  phrase. 

"Another  of  Hodder  and  Stough  ton's 
autumn  books  will  be  a  snoring  edition  of 
Sir  J.  M.  Barrie's  '  Quality  Street.'  " 

Liverpool  Courier. 

Just  the  book  for  the  bedside. 


"  STRIKE  OP  PUTTERS,"  announces  a 
contemporary.  Our  own  has  refused 
to  do  its  job  for  weeks. 


AUGUST  27,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


187 


THE    EDUCATION    OF    THE    BRITISH    ATHLETE. 


"LET'S   HIKE   Tins   LITTLE    BLIGHTER;    WE'LL   SHOW   HIM 

WHAT  'S  WHAT— WHAT?" 


"COME  oy,  GUIDE!     HUBBY  UP  AND  SEE  THTB  WONDERFUL 
VIEWS." 


"WltY  WILL  THE   SILLY   ASS  TOIST   OUT  VIEWS?      COUNTBY  FIT 

ONLY    FOR   FI.IF.S." 


THE  SUMMIT! 


188 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  27,  1913. 


PAGES   FROM   THE    DIARY   OF 
A   FLY. 

(By  our  Charivariety  Artiste.} 
in. 

MY  narrow  escape  from  a  water 
grave  brought  on  another  tit  of  nerves 
and  1  quietly  left  the  room  and  crawlet 
upstairs  and  lay  down  on  the  library 
sofa  again.  Is  it,  I  wonder,  an  un 
lucky  house  ?  There  are  such  things 
I  may  leave  to-morrow. 

What  a  deal  of  tragedy  there  is  in  a 
fly's  life,  if  one  comes  to  think  of  it 
Few  of  us — only,  I  should  say,  an 
inlinitesimally  small  proportion — die  in 
our  beds.  Death  is  always  lurking  al 
our  elbow.  For  example,  each  winter 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  us — all,  in 
fact,  who  cannot  manage  to  get  to  the 
Riviera — perish  of  cold.  Something,  ] 
cannot  help  thinking,  might  be  done  to 
prevent  this  appalling  mortality.  ] 
have  seen  moths,  for  instance,  in  expen- 
sive fur  coats.  If  they  can  do  it,  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  do  it.  But  it  ii 
rather  of  the  sudden  deaths — the  violent 
ends— 4hat  I  was  thinking.  Take  my 
own  family.  I  have  already  mentioned 
the  cases  of  my  poor  mother  and 
her  mother  before  her.  My  paternal 
grandfather,  when  asleep  in  an  arm- 
chair, was  sat  upon  by  a  man  weighing 
eighteen  stone.  Mybrothersand  sisters, 
Frank,  George,  Mary,  Daphne,  Joyce, 
Patience  and  Iris,  when  mere  young- 
sters, were  all  trapped  in  treacle,  and 
my  father  perished  in  an  heroic  attempt 
to  rescue  them.  A  spider  got  my  dear 
sister  Ermyntrude,  and  birds  ran  off 
with  Dulcie,  Clarence,  and  Stephen. 
Guy — powerful  fellow  though  he  was 
had  his  spine  broken  by  a  horse's  hoof. 
Marmaduke  was  pulled  to  pieces  before 
his  mother's  eyes  by  a  brat  of  a  boy. 

Then  there  was  the  case  of  Reginald. 
Reginald  was  our  black  sheep,  and  con- 
sequently his  mother's  favourite.  He 
took  to  drink.  It  was  perhaps  scarcely 
bis  fault.  He  was  egged  on  by  others. 
It  began  in  a  small  way.  Out  of  curi- 
osity he  looked  into  a  public-house  one 
day.  Some  men  there  gave  him  a  drop 
of  beer.  Apparently  it  amused  them  to 
see  him  intoxicated ;  the  thought  of  it 
s  sufficiently  humiliating.  The  liking 
'or  strong  drink  grew  upon  Reg.,  and 
be  became  a  public-house  loafer.  He 
would  even  steal  beer.  One  day — pos- 
sibly he  was  under  the  influence— he 
missed  his  footing  on  the  inside  wall 
of  a  tankard,  fell  into  a  half  of  bifcter, 
ind — it  is  almost  too  gruesome  to  tell — 
vas  swallowed  by  a  bricklayer — with- 
ut  even  enjoying  the  wasp's  satis- 
action  of  stinging  the  fellow  as  he  went 
iown.  He  left  51  widows  and  3,071 
hildren ;  for  Reginald,  in  sp:te  of  his 
weakness,  was  an  exceptionally  hand- 


some and  taking  fellow.  By  a  mere 
chance  the  tragedy  was  witnessed  by  a 
friend  of  ours  who  happened  to  be  on 
the  bar  counter  at  the  time,  and  he 
gave  us  a  full  account  of  the  affair — 
including  a  description  of  the  coughing, 
spluttering,  and  swearing  of  the  dirty 
toper  who  became,  so  to  say,  the  grave 
and  monument  of  my  poor  brother.  It 
nearly  killed  my  mother,  and  made 
teetotalers  of  such  of  us  as  had  hitherto 
been  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  drop  now 
and  then. 

Another  of  my  family  perished 
through  over-eating.  My  half-sister 
Geraldine  had  the  good  fortune,  as  she 
thought,  one  afternoon,  to  be  the  only 
fly  imprisoned  under  the  muslin  cover 
over  the  cakes  in  the  window  of  a  con- 
fectioner's shop.  It  was  the  oppor- 
tun  ty  of  a  lifetime,  and  Geraldine 
made  the  most  of  it.  But  it  was  her 
undoing.  She  gorged  and  gorged  and 
gorged.  Then  suddenly  she  felt  a  rush 
of  blood  to  the  head,  there  was  a  loud 
report,  and  then  no  more  Geraldine. 

Thus  does  misfortune  dog  our  foot- 
steps. And  what  about  the  "  mysterious 
disappearances  "  ?  There  have  been 
hundreds  of  these  in  our  family.  Some 
few  may  possibly  be  explained  by 
elopements,  but  the  great  majority 
point  to  a  violent  end.  Not  always, 
though.  An  old  friend  of  mine — I  had 
known  her  in  her  maiden  days — lost 
one  of  her  youngsters.  Again  he  was 
he  black  sheep  and  the  favourite — I 
don't  pretend  to  understand  these 
,hings — and  the  mother  wore  her- 
self to  a  skeleton  searching  for 
lim.  One  day,  just  as  she  was  think- 
ng  she  must  give  up  the  quest  as 
hopeless,  she  spotted  the  young  gentle- 
man in  a  butcher's  shop.  "  My  dearest, 
dearest  pet ! "  she  cried  as  she  rushed 
towards  him.  "  Hulloa,  Mother;  fancy 
meeting  you  1 "  said  the  callous  young 
neast,  licking  his  chops  and  scarcely 
ooking  up.  That  is  your  modern  young 
ty !  He  left  home,  he  had  the  good  taste 
to  tell  the  old  lady,  because  he  found  it 
dull  there  and  the  restrictions  irksome, 
and  it  was  only  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty, and  after  a  promise  had  been  given 
'hat  nothing  should  be  said  if  he  came 
n  late  at  nights,  that  Master  Archibald 
was  persuaded  to  return  home ! 

Still,  that  was  an  exceptional  in- 
stance. The  mysterious  disappearances 
which  are  so  common  with  us  are  too 
icrrible  to  contemplate  .... 

There  is  a  question  which  I  often 
hink  about.  What  becomes  of  us 
ifter  death  ?  Some  say  currants,  and 
here  is  an  end  of  us.  I  don't  believe 
his.  I  believe  we  become  angels — for 
fie  can  fly.  I  wonder  .... 

In  the  act  of  wondering  1  fell  asleep. 
FINIS. 


THE  YELLOW  GNOME. 

HUSH! 

Creep  at  the  cool  of  dusk 
By  a  rill  where  sleeps  the  rush  ; 

By  a  fern-choked  fence 
Where  meadow-sweet  and  musk 
Faint  opiates  dispense. 

Whist! 

Steal  through  the  languid  mist 
Drowsed  from  the  poppy's  wound, 
Sweet  from  the  trodden  clover, 
Hurry  tip-toe  over. 

Creep ! 
As  the  owl's  low  note  is  crooned 

Hollow,  mellow,  deep, 
Enter  a  wood,  dark,  old  ; 
Step  light  on  the  yielding  mould 

O'er  many  a  moulted  plume; 
Wake  not  a  note  of  sound 
Across  the  slumb'ring  gloom. 

Steal ! 
Stoop  low  to  the  velvet  ground. 

Kneel ! 
Behind  a  leafy  mound — • 

Seel 

At  the  waist  of  the  mouldering  tree, 
On  the  lip  of  the  ragged  hole, 
In  the  stricken  moss-grown  bole, 
There 's  a  rogue  of  a  yellow 
Little  fellow 
Of  a  gnome 

At  the  porch  of  his  vaulted  home. 
"  Where  ?  " 
There ! 
See! 

With  his  chin  on  his  gnarled  knee, 
Thumbs  on  shin, 
Lips  a-grin — • 
So. 
See? 
"No?" 
Elbows  bare, 
Tangled  hair 

Like  weed  on  a  yellow  beach ; 
Nose  awry, 
Glowing  eye, 

Now  green  as  a  mildewed  peach, 
Now  saffron  hot,  then  sapphire  cool, 
Like  gems  in  a  moonlit  pool. 

See?     "No? 
Not  yet  ?  "     Oh,  oh  ] 
Why,  bless — 
Ah,  yesl 
Too  loud,  too  loud ! 

He 's  gone  for  good 
In  a  musty  cloud, 
In  an  odorous  shroud 
Of  rotten  wood  1 


"6ow  IN  THE  BULL  HOTEI,." 

Essex  County  Tcler/raph. 
The  forward  sex  1 


"  Thanks  mostly  to  a  stand  by  G.  N.  Foster 
nd  Perrin,  when  things  wore  critical,  Leicester 
eft  oft  with  127  for  four  wickets." 

Daily  Mirror. 
Very  sporting   of   Worcestershire  and 
Esses  to  allow  this. 


AUGUST  27,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


189 


THE   CULT    OF   THE    PEKY-PEKY. 

First  Omier  of  Prize  Doglet.  "THESE  SEASIDE  PLACES  DON'T  APPEAL  TO  MB  THB  LEAST  LITTLE  BIT.     BDT  OZONEVILLE  WAS 

RECOMMENDED  TO  GIVE  TONE  TO  CHOO-CHOO'8  NEBVE8.       HE  *S   BEEN   SUFFERING    FROM    SEVERE   SHOCK  THROUGH  SEEING  TWO  FEARFUL- 
MONGRELS  HAVE   A   FIGHT  IN  THE   PARK  ONE   DAY.      YoUB  LITTLE  THINGY-THING  *8  OFF  COLOUB  TOO?" 

Second  Owner  of  Prize  Doglct.  "YES,  A  BIT  BUN  DOWN  AFTEB  THE  SEASON.    SORRY,  BUT  I  REALLY  MOST  HUBBY  A  WAV.    BAND'S 

BEGINNING  TO  PLAY  SOMETHING  OF  BALFE'8,   AND   I   NEVER  ALLOW   MlNG-MlXO  TO   HEAB   BANAL  D&UOD&  MUSIC." 


SADIE  AND  THE   L/.VINDER   MAN. 

SADIE  and  her  "  Pop "  were  doing 
London  exhaustively.  On  a  certain 
dull  August  morning  they  were  in  a 
taxi,  sampling  the  suburbs,  when  Sadie 
su  klenly  called  a  halt. 

"  What  'a  the  trouble,  baby-child  ?  " 
isked  "  Pop,"  as  the  chauffeur  brought 
.hem  up  short.  "  Nothing  to  see  in  this 
:>ld  place,  anyway  I  " 

Maybe  not,  Pop,  but  something  to 
'icer,"  cried  Sadie,  her  bright  face  alight 
jVith  joyous  triumph  and  her  finger 
aised.  Sure  enough,  in  the  distance 
ounded  the  remote,  melancholy,  mys- 
enous  cry  of  a  lavender  man. 

"  Sit  up  and  take  notice,  Pop  I  That 's 
lie  last,  the  •wtm/last.of  the  old  London 
treet  Cries  1  There  was  haf  a  hundred 
iid  more  in  old  times,  and  now  there 's 
aly  the  Sweet  Lavender  Cry — the 
irry  last  survivor.  Isn't  it  a  lovely 
lant?"  and  Sadie  raised  her  voice, 


which  was  not  quite  so  pretty  as  her 
face,  and  sang  the  opening  bars : — 

"Will  you  come  buy  my  sweet  lav-cn-der?" 

"  I  know  all  about  it,  Pop,  and  I  've 
been  after  that  dear  old  cry  ever  since 
we  concluded  to  sample  Greater  London 
this  morning.  It's  one  of  the  oldest 
of  the  old  street  cries;  and  the  finest 
lavender  comes  from  a  place  called 
Mitcham,  way  down  south-west  of 
London.  For  centuries  it 's  been  grown 
there ;  and  for  centuries  the  same  fam- 
ilies have  cried  it  through  the  streets  of 
London.  The  industry,  by  what  I  learn, 
has  been  kept  vurry  much  among  one 
set  of  folks,  like  a  good  many  British 
institutions,  and  the  dear  old  cry  has 
been  handed  down  from  father  to  son  ; 
that 's  what  makes  it  so  interesting  and 
so  romantic ;  and  that 's  why  it  seems 
to  strike  some  old  hidden  chord  some- 
where in  one's  being.  Guess  this  vurry 
man's  ancestors  sang  that  old  lavender 


chant  through  the  streets  of  Old  Lon- 
don, and  our  ancestors  hearkened  to  it 
before  ever  they  thought  of  booking 
passages  by  the  Mayflower." 

The  lavender  man,  with  his  loud  and 
somewhat  raucous  chant,  had  ap- 
proached the  stationary  taxi  by  this 
time,  and  Sadie,  after  listening  raptur- 
ously to  him  at  close  quarters,  beckoned 
him  and  proceeded  to  buy  up  his  whole 
stock.  "  The  whole  crowd  '11  want 
some,"  she  said ;  "  Momma  and  the 
boys,  and  Clytie  and  Edna — real, 
genuine  Mitcham  lavender,  bought  of 
a  real,  genuine,  traditional,  British 
lavender  man.  Say,  Pop,"  as  a  new 
idea  struck  her,  "  what 's  the  matter 
with  our  taking  this  man  back,  right 
now,  to  the  Savoy  and  getting  a  record 
of  the  last  of  the  old  London  street 
cries  for  my  phonograph  ?  " 

"Best  not  take  him  back  with  us, 
Sadie,"  objected  "  Pop "  in  an  aside. 
"  Looks  like  we  should  be  taking  more 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVAB 


THAN  HE  HAD  IMAGINED  IT 


than  him  if  we  took  him.  Let  him 
clean  himself  some  and  come  to  the 
Savoy  later,  if  you  want  a  record  of  his 
old  cry.  Seems  a  mighty  dull  specimen. 
Hasn't  said  a  word  yet." 

"No;  isn't  that  purfectly  lovely/ 
Such  true  British  taciturnity.  Dear, 
dull,  silent,  moss-grown  folks  they  are." 

To  the  lavender  man  Sadie  proceeded 
to  explain  :  "We  want  a  record  of  that 
lovely  old  cry  of  yours.  We're  from 
the  other  side ;  but  we  know  all  about 
lavender;  how  it's  grown  at  a  place 
called  Mitcham,  and  all  you  lavender 
men  live  there  in  a  sort  of  little  settle- 
ment to  yourselves,  just  as  your  fathers 
and  grandfathers  did  before  you ;  am 
you  've  learned  the  dear  old  chant  from 
generation  to  generation,  your  fatbei 
teaching  it  to  you  and  his  father  teach 
ing  it  to  him,  and  so  on  way  back  til 
it 's  enough  to  give  anyone  brain  fevei 
to  think  of  it !  It 's  a  purfectly  purfectly 
sweet  notion  1  And  the  fact  that  yoi 
don't  answer  anything  I  say  to  you  is 
just  right — shows  what  a  true,  genuine 
British  lavender  man  you  must  be." 

" '  Fine  capacity  for  silence,'  to  quote 
the  late  THOMAS  CARLYLE,  of  Eccle- 


fechan,  Scotland, and  Chelsea.  London," 
put  in  "Pop." 

"  Well,  now,"  went  on  Sadie,  "  that  s 
what  we  want  of  you— a  record  of  this 
splendid  old  chant,  that 's  come  down 
from  father  to  son  through  the  cen- 
turies. You  '11  come  to  the  Savoy  Hotel, 
Strand,  and  sing  it  good  and  hard  into 
a  phonograph— and  you  might  add  a 
few  particulars  of  the  life  at  the 
Mitcham  lavender  settlement  and  how 
far  back  you  can  trace  your  descent 
from  the  original  old  lavender  men, 
and  we'd  give  you  seven  dollars— or, 
say  a  pound  and  a  haf,  British  money. 
Take  it  or  leave  it." 

"'Scuse  me,  lidy,"  interrupted  an 
expert  in  bottles  and  bones,  who  hac 
stopped  pushing  his  barrow  in  order  to 
listen,  and  now  drew  up,  "  but  it  ain't 
no  use  arstin'  that  bloke  nothin' — yoi 
won't  get  no  change  out  of  'im.  Lives 
in  same  'ouse  as  me  out  Bednall  Green 
way,  'e  doss,  and  'e  on'y  landed^  'en 
last  week,  and  carn't  speak  nothin'  bu 
Yiddish — couldn't  tip  you  a  word  o 
English,  not  if  it  was  ever  so ! " 

"But— but  he  was  singing  the  ol 
lavender  cry,"  urged  Sadie  desperately 


Oh— that  I  Yus,  lidy,  'e  was 
huckin'  it  out  cert'nly,  but  they 
earns  'em  that  at  the  place  where  they 
~~li  their  stock  o'  lavender." 

***** 

-  '  Guess  this  vurry  man's  ancestors 
cried  that  lovely  old  cry  through  the 
streets  of  Old  London,  and  our  ancestors 
i Darkened  to  it  before  ever  they  thought 
of  booking  passages  by  theMayflower,' '_ 
quoted  "Pop"  musingly,  as  the  I 
sped  away  again  on  its  suburb-sampling 
mission.  "Another  illusion  knocked 
out,  baby-child  I " 

"Don't   rub    it   in,   Pop!"  pleadec 
Sadie ;  and  then,  with  a  sudden  mov 
ment,  she  throw  all  her  recently-pui 
chased  lavender  into  the  road.  " 
ing    old   stuff  1     Reckon   even    that 
imported !    And  maybe  there  's  no  s 
place  as  Mitcham,  anyway  I " 

••  TYPHUS  IN  GLASGOW. 

TWENTY-EIGHT  CASES. 
AILMENT  WELL  STBEAD." 
These  cheerful  headlines  appear  la  The 
Glasgow  News,  not  The  British  Medical 
Journal. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUGUST  27,  1013. 


WOODEOW    ON    TOAST. 

PKESIDENT  WOODEOW  WILSON,  U.S.A.  "IF  YOU  DON'T  TAKE  CABE,  I  SHALL  HAVE  TO 
TEEAT  YOU  THE  SAME  WAY  AS  EUROPE  TREATS  THE  TURK." 

MEXICO.  "AND    HOW'S    THAT?" 

PRESIDENT  WOODBOW  WILSON.  "WELL,  I  SHALL  HAVE  TO— TO  GO  ON  WAGGINQ  MY 
FINGER  AT  YOU." 


AUGUST  27,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


193 


tvl      - 


THE    CALL    OF    THE    WILD    WAVES. 


"  WELL,  LANCELOT,  WK  WILL  oo  DOWN  TO  THE  SANDS  JCST 

ONCE,  HUT  DON'T   LET   D8   CAPEB   ABOUT   LIKE  THE   COMMON   HEKD 
JDS      BECAUSE   WE   ARE  AT  THE   SEA-BIDE." 


THE    FALL. 


THE    LAST    LAY 

Of  an  illegible  Poet,  whose  typewriting 
machine,  having  occasion  to  trawl, 
collapsed  en  route. 

Is  Cuthbert  broke  ?  Is  Cuthbert  dead  ? 

Shall  he  no  more  display 
His  rampant  S,  his  couchant  Z, 

His  slightly  jaded  A, 
His  errant  colon,  sudden  stop.? 
Ilath  Cuthbert  had  a  fatal  drop  ? 

Tis  so  indeed.     Too  dead  is  he 
To  type  a  final  B.  1.  P. 

A  porter  man  of  coarse  physique, 
Who  'd  never  paused  to  note 

The  verse,  appearing  week  by  week, 
That  I  and  Cuthbert  wrote — 

A  porter  man  it  was  by  whom 

Befell  this  comprehensive  doom — 

A  porter  man,  who  didn't  choose 

To  mind  poor  Cuthbert's  P's  and  Q's. 

By  day,  when  I  am  other  than 

The  thing  I  am  by  night, 
I  practise  as  a  Business  man 

And  little  else  I  write 


Save  "  Yours  to  hand  .  .  .,"  "  the  thir- 
teenth inst " 

And  such-like  phrases,  bald,  unminced. 

And  even  these  I  but  dictate 
For  others  to  elucidate. 

The  shaded  lamp,  the  evening  meal, 

The  alcoholic  cup, 
These  bring  my  gentler  muse  to  heel 

And  keep  me  sitting  up 
Inditing  verses  by  the  score, 
While  others  lie  abed  and  snore ; 

But  verses,  which  no  human  eyna 
Could  later  read — not  even  mine. 

Till  Cuthbert  came,  when  poems  which 

Had  little  use  of  old 
Were  now  discovered  to  be  rich 

In  seams  of  sterling  gold, 
And,  what  is  more,  to  scan  and  rhyme 
And  earn  a  guinea  every  time. 

And  doth  the  sudden  end  of  Cuth 
Involve  the  end  of  me  ?     It  doth. 

That  I  am  loth  to  fill  his  place 

Is  not  from  sentiment, 
But  only  that  I  cannot  face 

The  money  to  be  spent, 


For  twenty  pounds  is  surely  what 
May  be  regarded  as  a  lot. 

"  Dictate  'em  to  the  clerk,"  you  say  ? 
The  notion  takes  my  breath  away. 

To  call  in  person,  sit  beside 

The  Editorial  chair, 
And,  once  a  week  at  eventide, 

Declaim  one's  verse  from  there 
Would  be  a  gross  unkindness  to 
My  Editor,  nay,  hero,  who 

This  once  (hut,  mark,  this  once  alone) 
Has  taken  stuff  by  telephone. 

Another  Near  Eastern  Problem. 
"Russian  warships   have   been  ordered  to 
Sevastopol.     It  is  thought  that  this  move  is 
in  connection  with  Turkey's  refusal  to  evacu- 
ate Constantinople." — Aberdeen  Free  Press. 

We  all  know  that  Turkey  has  a  yield- 
ing nature,  but  this  is  asking  too  much 
of  her.  

"  According  to  Kobe  advices,  refugees  from 
China  are  daily  swelling.     Beuter." 

Western  Daily  Mercury. 

The  Kobe  mosquito  is  notorious  among 
travellers. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  27,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"THE  Bia  GAME." 
IT  was  on  the  third  night  that  I 
paid  a  visit  to  the  New  Theatre,  and 
was  struck,  before  the  rise  of  the  curtain, 
by  the  curiously  ingenuous  and  undis- 
tinguished aspect  of  the  stalls.  I  half 
feared  that  they  had  been  misled  by 
the  title  of  Mr.  CAKROLL'S  play  and 
were  anticipating  the  appearance  of 
some  of  the  larger  fauna  of  the  African 
continent.  It  was  true  that,  in  the 
hands  of  Destiny,  a  rhino  had  laid  the 
seed  of  all  the  trouble,  but  he  had  been 
dead  some  ten  years  before  the  opening 
of  the  play,  and  consequently  did  not 
face  the  footlights.  It  was  like  this. 


suspected,  without  any  good  reason,  of 
complicity  in  his  parent's  death.  Like 
a  little  Hamlet  he  sets  himself  to 
avenge  that  death,  and  it  was  indeed  a 
cursed  spite  (both  for  him  and  the  | 
audience)  that  lie  should  have  felt  called 
upon  to  put  things  right.  For,  nnlike 
the  King  of  Denmark,  the  late  Ifr.  Boss 
was  not  nearly  so  white  as  he  was 
painted.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  bigamist, 
and,  in  the  article  of  death,  had  con- 
fided to  Grimshaw  the  guardianship  of 
his  extra  wife.  Faithfully  he  executes 
the  trust,  concealing  it,  of  course,  from 
his  wife,  who  cherishes  the  memory  of 
her  late  husband  as  a  model  type, 
"a  man  in  a  million."  Young  Hamlet, 
however,  sniffing  a  rat  (as  it  might  be) 


Act,  where  the  legitimate  wife  pays  her 
conventional  visit  of  inspection  to  the 
illegitimate.  The  play,  indeed,  was  only 
saved  by  the  intervention  of  little  Miss 
EILEEN  ESLER,  who  played  with  great 
charm  and  intelligence  the  precocious 
part  of  Kitty  "Morrison,"  daughter  of 
Boss  by  the  lady  who  was  his  wife  "  in 
the  sight  of  God."  Apart  from  her, 
the  relief-humour  was  of  the  thinnest. 
Mr.  FRED  KERR,  as  Grimsliaw,  did 
his  possible  for  the  play,  and  was  very 
workmanlike.  His  brusque  manner 
was  admirably  suited  to  the  character 
of  a  man  who  didn't  mind  being  a 
gentleman  if  only  he  could  escape  being 
a  stage-hero.  Miss  ETHEL  DANE,  as 
the  innocent  lady  whom  the  bigamist 


Dying  Rhino. 


"THE    BIG    GAME." 
SCENE— Central  Africa.    TIME— Ten  years  or  so  before  rise  of  curtain. 

[NOTE— The  track  of  the  fatal  bullet  is  indicated  by  a  dotted  line.] 
'  There  '11  be  trouble  about  this.     I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  a  pretty  bad  play  was  written  on  the  subject." 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boss  and  their  particular 
friend,  Mr.  Grimshaw,  were  on  a  shoot- 
ing trip  in  Central  Africa.  One  fine 
day  a  rhino  charged  the  first-named. 
The  native  who  was  carrying  his  rifle 
threw  it  away  and  fled.  Mr.  Grimsliaw 
at  once  discharged  his  piece  at  the 
monster,  and  at  the  same  moment  Mr. 
Boss  ran  across  the  line  of  fire  and 
intercepted  the  bullet.  Mr.  Grimshaic, 
having  received  his  friend's  dying  con- 

f*  "i -i          ,  i  •  -, 


fidences,     married    the     widow, 
gave    out    for    convenience    that 
deceased  had  perished   of  fever. 


and 
the 
His 

conscience  was  quite  clear  as  to  the 
accidental  nature  of  Boss's  death,  and 
fortunately  the  lady,  who  witnessed 
the  episode,  was  in  a  position  to  sup- 
port his  view. 

All,  then,  might  have  gone  moderately 
well  in  the  borne  circle  but  for  the  fact 
that  the  extinct  sportsman  had  left  be- 
hind him  a  son,  who  adored  his  memory 
and  detested  the  step-father,  whom  he 


Poloniui  behind  the  arras),  spies  upon 
his  step-father  and  reports  him  at  home 
as  a  base  deceiver  leading  a  double  life. 
Grimshaw,  persistently  noble,  declines 
to  clear  himself  at  the  cost  of  his  dead 
friend's  honour — always"  a  good  line 
for  heroes  of  the  stage.  But  the  family 
doctor,  who  knows  all  and  is  sensible 
enough  to  recognise  that  a  living  lion 
is  worth  any  number  of  dead  dogs, 
gives  the  secret  away. 

It  is  patent  that  every  step  which 
the  boy  takes  to  expose  what  he 
imagines  to  be  his  step-father's  baseness 
and  duplicity  only  brings  him  nearer 
to  the  loss  of  his  own  ideal.  Like 
(Edipns  on  the  track  of  his  father's 
slayer,  he  brings  about  his  own  un- 
doing. This  is  your  right  Sophoclean 
irony.  But  when  you  have  noted  that, 
you  have  noted  practically  all  that  is 
to  be  said  for  The  Big  Game.  For, 
frankly,  it  was  dull  stuff,  reaching  the 


had  betrayed,  never  qi.'le  secured  nr 
sympathy.     She  had  too  much  the  ail 
of  a  virtuous  cocotte.     Mr.  HEVKKIDGF 
a  medical  amicus  curia,  with  a  per 
manent  frock-coat,  an  Irish  brogue  aiv 
a  vein  of  extremely  childlike  and  pi  inii 
tive  humour  (largely  associated  with  hi 
umbrella),  was  not  so  well  served  a 
I  have  seen  him.     Miss  FRANCES  Ivoi 
as  Boss's  widow  and  Grimshaw's  \vif< 
bore  with  a  nice  serenity  the  divisio 
of  her  dear  heart  between  her  two  lius' 
bands ;  and  Miss  MARGARET  DALLAS,  ; 
a  garrulous  menial,  saw  the  fun,  and, 
hope,  the  improbability,  of  her  lines. 
It  was  unfortunate  that  Mr.  DESK 
NEILSON-TERRY,    in   the  part    of    tl 
stepson,  Julian  Boss,  the  first  part  ' 


has    "created"    (I 
word  from  his  own 


cull    this    dre;ulf 
alleged   utteran 


to  an  interviewer),  should  have  had 
represent  a  spoilt  and  insufferable  pv 
— or  "neuropath,"    as  he  put  it;  f 


low-water  mark  of  tedium  in  the  last  j  with  a  young  actor   who   has  yet 


AUGUST  27.  1913.] 


.   nil   T1IK   LONDON   CM.MltVAIM. 


195 


Kervoits  Tourist.  "ARE  YOU  SURE  THE  DRIVER  is  A  STRICTLY  SOBER  MAN?    HE  DOES  NOT  LOOK  LIKE  AS  ABSTAINER." 
Landlord.  "\VEEL,  THERE'S  NO  AN  ABSTAINER  ABOOT  THE  PLACE,  MAM,  BUT  HE'S  THE  NEXT  BEST  THING  TAB  IT;    us  CAS.XA 

FILL  THAT  YIN  FOU." 


make  his  mark  in  original  work  an 
audience  is  apt  to  make  confusion 
between  the  character  that  he  plays 
and  his  own  personality;  and  some  of 
us  may  have  been  excusably  tempted 
to  attribute  to  Mr.  NEILSON-TERRY  the 
conceit  and  affectation  of  Julian  Boss. 
It  was  a  difficult  and  outrageous  part, 
and  he  tried  honestly  to  play  it ;  but 
he  has  much  to  learn  in  voice  and 
gesture  and  movement.  It  is,  perhaps, 
a  pity  that,  in  the  interview  to  which  I 
have  referred,  he  should  have  advertised 
the  merits  of  The  Big  Game  so  loudly ; 
for  those  who  allowed  themselves  to  be 
guided  by  his  youthful  judgment  must 
have  been  sadly  let  down.  O.  S. 

1 '  More  is  expected  of  every  class  of  woman 
than  Girton  or  Newnham,  and  if  they  have 
not  they  wish  they  had." — Daily  Mirror, 
Surely  you  see  that? 

"Startled  by  the  impact  of  bat  and  ball,  it 
has  been  said  that  rabbits  often  scurry  across 
tho  'Worcester  ground,  but  the  two  Surrey 
batsmen  showed  no  such  timidity." 

Daily  News. 
Ilor.ns  and  HAYWABD  are  no  rabbits. 


THE  ADDED  CUBIT. 

[A  doctor  claims  to  have  discovered  a  com- 
pound which  will  increase  tho  height  even  of 
adults,  though  it  is  most  efficacious  in  tho 
case  of  children.] 

FIRED  by  a  firm  resolve  to  rise 
To  heights  untouched  before, 

And  daunted  not  by  frequent  tries 
To  make  my  inches  more, 

I  bought  a  bottle  of  this  boon, 

A  large  one,  and  a  table-spoon. 


•will  note  a 


change 


m 


"  My  son 
mo," 

Thought  I,  "  and  much  admire 
The  strapping  man  that  used  to  be 

His  far  too  puny  sire, 
And  murmur  in  respectful  tone, 
'  Oh,  mother,  hasn't  father  grown  I ' ' 

Alas,  I  did  not  count  upon 

His  passion  for  research. 
One  morn  I  found  the  bottle  gone 

From  its  accustomed  perch. 
The  youngster  sought  to  know  (and 

touch) 
What  is  it  father  likes  so  much. 


He  drained  this  wondrous  draught  of 
mine, 

And  youth 's  the  time  to  shoot, 
So  at  the  early  ago  of  nine 

He  tops  me  by  a  foot, 
And,  when  he  argues  with  his  Pa, 
Treats  him  too  much  de  haut  en  bas. 


The  Coming  of  Autumn. 

"  Sir  John  Simon  has  already  consented  to 
address  a  series  of  Free  Trado  -meetings  in  the 
autumn,  which  begins  in  Glasgow  in  October." 
Manchester  Guardian. 

And  in  England  a  few  days  earlier,  as 
usual. 

Mr.  AYNESWORTH,  as  reported  in  TJie 
Evening  Neivs : — 

"It  is,  as  you  know,  adapted  from  'La 
Prise  do  Berg-op- Zoom,'  an  alliterative  title." 

We  should  never  have  guessed  it. 

"Wanted  a  dwarf  or   midget.     Must  be 
small." — Advt.  in  "  Daily  Chronicle." 
Tho  conditions   are   too   arduous.     If 
the   advertiser  were  not   so   absurdly  , 
particular  he   would  get   many  more  j 
applicants. 


196 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  27,  1913. 


RE-SESSIONAL. 

(With  grateful  acknoioledgments  to  the  Parliamentary  Eepre- 
sentative  of  "The  Daily  Chronicle,"  the  lines  that 
follow  being  little  more  than  a  metrical  version  of  the 
subjoined  passages  from  his  Review  of  the  Session.) 

["The  Liberal  party  has  had  its  ups  and  downs  in  the  past  Session, 
and  on  a  few  occasions  it  was  confronted  with  very  embarrassing,  not 
to  say  perilous,  situations.  From  all  of  thorn,  under  the  cool  and 
skilful  guidance  of  the  Prime  Minister,  it  emerged  not  only  without 
discredit,  but  with  added  strength— indeed,  fortified  and  purified  by 
the  discipline  of  adverse  circumstances.  .  .  .  Mr.  Asquitb  has 
mastered  the  secret  of  getting  profit  for  his  Ministry  out  of  circum- 
stances of  peril.  .  .  .  Mr.  Asquith  is  an  Englishman  to  his  finger- 
tips. Yet  this  typical  Englishman  has  succeeded  in  winning  the 
unqualified  devotion  of  the  Irish  Nationalists.  At  the  banquet  given 
to  the  Prime  Minister  by  Mr.  Redmond,  the  warm-hearted  Irishmen 
were  almost  swept  off  their  feet  by  a  thrilling  passage  in  Mr.  Asquith's 
speech  in  which  he  acknowledged  his  gratitude  to  •  my  Irish  com- 
rades.' .  .  .  Next  to  the  Prime  Minister,  Mr.  Lloyd  George  has 
bulked  largest  on  the  Parliamentary  stage.  His  daring  and  supple 
genius  has  been  of  inestimable  value  to  the  Liberal  party.  He  was 
winged  for  a  time  by  the  wretched  tracasseries  of  the  Marconi  affair, 
but  quickly  recovered." 

After  noting  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  "apostolic  fervour"  for  social 
reform,  the  writer  goes  on  to  describe  Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL'S 
"paean  on  oil  fuel"  as  a  remarkable  performance,  enlarges  on  the 
exceptional  humanity  of  Mr.  MoKENNA,  the  "flowering  out"  of 
Mr.  MASTEBMAN  into  a  first-class  Parliamentarian,  and  the  all-round 
competency  of  Sir  JOHN  SIMON,  "  who  shines  with  equal  lustre  in  the 
House  of  Commons  and  at  the  Courts."  In  a  previous  issue  he  dilates 
on  Mr.  T.  P.  O'CoNNOB's  championship  of  the  small  nationalities, 
especially  the  Armenians.] 

WE  Liberals  in  the  twelve-month  past  have  had  our  ups 

and  downs ; 
We  basked  awhile  in  Fortune's  smile,  and  wilted  'neath 

her  frowns ; 
Yet,  though   this   arduous  discipline   our  grit  has  sorely 

tried, 
We  've  issued  from  the  ordeal  completely  purified. 

Our  wonderful  PRIME  MINISTER  full-throatedly  we  bless 

For  turning  to  our  profit  each  Ministerial  mess  ; 

He  pilots  us  through  perilous  seas,  where  surging  billows 

boil, 
But  hitherto  has  never  lost  his  little  can  of  oil. 

Besides,  he  has  no  maggots  in  his  massive  English  brain ; 
He 's  free  from  thrills  and  Celtic  frills,  he  'a  sturdy  and  he  'a 

sane; 
Yet  when  he  called  the  Irishmen  at  REDMOND'S  festive 

board 
"  My    comrades,"    from    O'CONNOR'S   eyes    the   teardrops 

freely  poured— 

O'CoNNOB,  ceaseless  eulogist  of  all  that 's  chic  and  smart ; 
Who  takes  the  poor  Armenians  to  his  all-embracing  heart ; 
Whose  loving  human  kindness,  saponaceous  and  serene, 
Reaches  the  lactic  level  of  the  richest  margarine. 

Next  to  our  priceless  PREMIER,  I  must  essay  to  paint 
The  superhi  man  virtues  of  our  Cambrian  super-Saint; 
Who  joins  the  lion's  daring  to  the  slither  of  the  eel, 
With  his  "  apostolical  fervour  "  and  his  Athanasian  zeal. 

Immune  from  all  the  weaknesses  that  hamper  common 

Dukes, 

He  thrives  upon  exposure  and  he  battens  on  rebukes ; 
And,  the  deeper  that  he  flounders  in  the  mud  of  ill  renown, 
The  more  insistently  he  claims  to  wear  the  martyr's  crown. 

Next  comes  tho  only  WINSTON,  whose  exuberance  is  such 
Tliafe  we  cannot  eulogize  it  or  disparage  it  too  much; 
His  Marconi  exhibition  was  magnificent,  of  course, 
But  it  showed  less  thought  for  others  than  vituperative  foice. 


Still,  after  GEORGE  and  ASQUITH,  he 's  quite  our  brightest 

jewel, 

And  we  all  admired  his  memorable  "  pa?an  on  oil  fuel," 
Whose  far  reverberations  cheered  Lord  MURRAY  of  Peru 
On  his  journey  from  Bolivia  to  the  wilds  of  Timbuctoo. 

Of  the  admirable  RUFUS  'tis  perhaps  enough  to  say, 
As  a  man  and  as  a  brother,  that  he  's  perfect  in  his  way. 
While  MASTERMAN,  whose  unction  is  exuded  with  such  tact, 
Is  quite  the  shoving  leopard  of  the  gieat  Insurance  Act. 

Though  SIMON  'a  not  so  simple  as  his  surname  might  sug- 
gest, 

And  the  way  the  Tories  praise  him  stirs  misgiving  in  my 
breast, 

Though  he  scorns  to  bluff  and  bluster  or  indulge  in  cheap 
retorts, 

Still  "  he  shines  with  equal  lustre  in  the  Commons  and  the 
Courts." 

The  facetiousness  of   BIRRELL   is   alone  worth  twice  his 

screw ; 

And  a  dilatory  magic  gilds  the  utterance  of  CEEWE  ; 
JOHN  BURNS'S  self-assurance  is  unshattered  up  till  now, 
Aud  HALDANE  still  can  perorate  tho  hind-leg  off  a  cow. 

Last  comes  the  mild  MCKENNA,  so  tremendously  humane, 
That  to  stamp  upon  a  beetle  gives  him  agonising  pain, 
And  with  such  a  noble  passion  for  veracity  imbued 
That  he  beats  the  best  achievements  of  an  amateur  like 
FROUDE. 

In  fine,  however  sketchily  the  Liberal  artist  paints 
The  variegated  progress  of  his  heroes  and  his  saints, 
He  cannot  fail  to  recognise  that,  though  severely  tried, 
Their  spiritual  nature  has  been  wholly  purified. 


THE    GLACIER. 

"  THIS,"  said  Francesca,  "  is  your  excursion,  and  I  refuse 
to  bear  any  responsibility  for  its  consequences." 

"  Consequences  I  "  I  said.  "  What  consequences  can 
there  be  ?  " 

"  I  have  already,"  she  said,  "  got  a  blister  on  my  right 
foot,  and  my  throat  is  choked  with  duet." 

"  I  admit  that,  in  a  sense,  these  are  consequences,  but  I 
am  hound  to  point  out  that  you  must  bear  them  yourself. 
I  cannot  change  feet  or  throats  with  you." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to,"  she  said  with  dignity ;  "  but  why 
have  we  hired  a  carriage? " 

"  We  have  ordered  a  carriage,"  I  said,  "  in  order  that  it 
might  precede  us  as  we  ascend  these  steep  Swiss  roads.  It 
makes  a  dust ;  but  what  of  that?  It  is  a  comfort  to  know 
that  the  carriage  is  there." 

"  For  all  the  good  we  've  had  out  of  it,  it  might  just  as 
well  not  have  been  there,"  she  said.  "  Two  hours  have 
gone  by  since  we  started  and  we  have  not  been  in  it  for 
more  than  ten  minutes." 

"  And  that  is  due  to  the  kindness  of  our  hearts.  We  cannot 
bear  to  inflict  unnecessary  suffering  on  the  horses." 

"Then  we  should  have  left  them  in  the  stables." 

"  No,  for  then  we  should  not  have  had  the  beautiful 
consciousness  of  self-sacrifice.  It  is  for  the  sake  of  the 
horses  that  your  foot  is  blistered  and  your  throat  parched. 
Let  this  thought  console  you  as  you  limp  through  the  dust." 

"  But  you,"  she  said,  "  have  no  such  consolations  ;  and 
that  is  what  annoys  me." 

"  Francesca,  you  are  an  unselfish  creature ;  but  if  both 
my  feet  were  one  solid  blister  your  pain  would  be  tho 
same." 


AUGUST  27,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


197 


INFLUENCE    OF    TttE    RUSSIAN    BALLET    ON    BATHING    DESIGNS. 

(SALOME  AJTD  TBE  FAUN.) 


"Then  there's  the  coachman,"  she  said.  "  Why  doesn't 
he  get  off  his  box  and  walk  sometimes  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  fat  coachman,"  I  said,  "  and,  once  on  the  box- 
seat,  he  prefers  to  stay  there.  Though  I  am  myself  a  slim 
man,  I  can  understand  his  preference.  Perhaps  his  doctors 
have  told  him  that  carriage  exercise  is  good  for  him." 

"  In  that  case  he  ought  to  pay  MS  thirty  francs  instead  of 
our  paying  him." 

"1  will  mention  it  to  him,"  I  said,  "if  you  like;  but  I 
do  not  think  he  will  look  favourably  on  the  suggestion. 
They  are  a  grasping  lot,  these  Swiss  coachmen,  and  the  law 
protects  them." 

"What  I  am  asking  myself,"  said  Francesca,  "is  why 
we  came  out,  on  this  excursion  at  all." 

"  We  came,"  I  said,  "  to  see  a  glacier." 

"  Pooh  I  "  she  said.     "  What  is  a  glacier  ?  " 

"  A  glacier,"  1  said,  "  is  a  sea  of  ice.  That  is  to  say,  it  is 
not  the  sort  of  ice  that  you  know.  It  is  made  of  snow. 
It  is  always  there " 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is  that  we  could  easily  have  gone 
some  other  day,  or  even  imagined  it.  The  things  I  want  to 
see  are  the  things  that  are  not  always  there — earthquakes, 
avalanches  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

'  If  money  could  buy  an  earthquake,  you  should  have  it  on 
the  spot.  But  this  glacier  is  not  so  constantly  there " 

"  You  said  it  was." 

1  It  is  not  so  constantly  there  as  you  seem  to  think.  It 
moves,  you  know — only  a  few  inches  a  day,  I  fancy,  but 
still  it  moves." 


"  But  we  shan't  see  the  silly  thing  move." 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  perhaps  not ;  but  it  is  grand  to  know 
that  it  can  get  along  without  our  seeing  it.  Francosca,  there 
are  crevasses  in  a  glacier." 

"  Page  45  of '  Physical  Geography  for  Beginners.' " 

"  In  face  of  this  great  blind  natural  force  your  flippancy 
is  misplaced.  If.  for  instance,  I  fell  into  a  crevasse  to-day, 
and  yoa  came  back  to  this  glacier  forty  years  hence 

"  I  should  come  in  a  carriage,  you  know,"  said  Francesca 
cheerfully.  "  I  shouldn't  walk." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  you  would  probably  come  in  a  carriage. 
Then  you  would  stand  at  the  edge  of  the  glacier  and  let 
your  mind  stray  back  over  forty  sad  years." 

"  I  've  lost  my  handkerchief,"  said  Francesca. 

"  You  always  have.  And  while  yon  stood  there  you  would 
suddenly  see  amongst  the  stones  a  gold  watch  and  a  large 
boot  with  nails  in  it.  That  would  be  me — I  mean,  those 
melancholy  relics  would  be  all  that  was  left  of 

"  You  unwoman  me,"  said  Francesca.  "  All  the  same," 
she  added,  "  I  can't  help  saying  this  glacier  of  yours  is  a 
very  slow  worker,  and,  if  you  wanted  me  to  admire  it,  you 
haven't  succeeded." 

"  Look  1     There  it  is,"  I  said,  pointing  across  the  gorge. 

"  Call  that  a  glacier  1 "  she  said.  "  It 's  about  as  big  as  a 
large  tablecloth." 

"Anyhow,"  I  said  sharply,  "that's  all  the  glacier  you'll 
get  to-day.  If  you  wanted  something  bigger  you  should 
have  said  so.  Personally,  I  admire  it  very  much." 

"  I  don't,"  said  Francesca.  E.  C.  L. 


198 


PUNCH,   OK.  THE  LONDON   CIIAKIVAIM. 


[AuciusT  27,  1913. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

i/  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
USED  though  I  am,  more  particularly  in  novels,  to  those 
who  do,  or  talk  of  doing,  Big  Things,  I  have  never  before 
met  so  large  and  mixed  a  company  devoted  to  this  vocation. 
There  is  no  doubt,  of  course,  that  the  class  of  which  Sir 
CiiLUKHT  PARKER  writes  in  The  Judgment  House  (METHUEN) 
did  much,  if  not  most,  of  the  bringing  about  and  carrying 
through  of  the  Boer' War,' but  I  cannot  think  that  the 
Magnates  of  the  Eand  or  the  Officials  of  Diplomacy  set 
about  the  business  in  quite  the  large,  direct  and  melo- 
dramatic spirit  of  Eudyard  Biiiy  and  Ian  Stafford.  They 
must  have  given  some  thought  to  details  ;  some  trifles  must 
have  obtruded  themselves  upon  their  notice,  causing  thorn 
to  show  impatience  or  irritability,  to  laugh  or  at  least  smile  ; 
oven  at  such  a  crisis  the  tension  of  the  situation  and  the 
facial  muscles  of  those  who  conducted  it  must  have  relaxed 
a  little  onco  or  twice  in  a  period  of  some  years.  On  this 
part  of  the  affair  1  speak  without  authority,  not  knowing 
by  the  light  of  nature,  nor  having  been  told  with  any  exact- 
ness in  the  book,  how 
Magnates  are  created  or 
of  what  Diplomacy  (always 
with  a  big,  big  D)  consists. 
The  social  and  criminal 
elements  of  the  story  are, 
however,  open  to  the  criti- 
cism of  the  man  in  the 
street.  As  to  the  former,  I 
would  argue  that  the  smart 
and  plutocratic  set  of 
London  is  herein  credited 
with  a  brilliance  and 
breadth  of  mind  not  its 
own ;  as  to  the  latter,  that 
the  murder  of  Adrian 
Fclloircs  cast  too  long  a 
shadow  before  it.  And 
when  it  did  come  the 
identity  of  the  agent  was 
not  difficult  to  guess, 
though  much  mystery  was 
made  of  it.  But  the  important  thing  for  his  many 
admirers  is  that  Sir  GILBEKT  has  written  another  novel"; 
and  nothing  that  I  have  said  can  alter  that  fact.  At  the 
worst,  I  shall  only  expect  a  few  of  them  to  agree  with  me 
that,  while  his  book  is  by  no  means  wanting  in  wit,  it  would 
have  been  much  better  for  a  touch  or  two  of  humour. 


STOCK  HIS  LATEST  MA6TEBPIKCE. 


I  think  I  have  seldom  met  with  a  more  obvious  example 
of  the  short  story  masquerading  as  a  novel  than  The  World's 
Daughter  (LANE).  The  first  two  parts  of  the  tale,  which 
take  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  pages  to  tell,  are  all  about 
the  events  of  one  day.  True,  it  was  an  extremely  crowded 
day.  In  the  morning  the  hero  met  the  heroine  quite 
casual-like  at  a  railway  station.  The  heroine  was  missing 
trains,  and  the  hero,  who  was  a  perfect  stranger  (and  a  far 
from  imperfect  hustler  in  such  matters),  said,  "  Come  along 
for  a  pic-nic  witli  me  instead,"  and,  a  few  minutes  later, 
"  I  love  you."  They  were  in  the  train  by  this  time,  and  the 
rest 'of  the  book  is  devoted  to  the  pic-nic  and  what  came  of 
it.  Incidentally  one  may  say  that  it  was  a  somewhat  corn- 
piehensive  outing,  involving  a  bathe  in  a  stream,  two 
accidents — by  dive  and  bicycle — and  a  night  in  a  friendly 
cottage.  But  no  one  need  be  really  alarmed.  The  pro- 
prieties, though  strained  almost  to  breaking-point,  dp  just 
hold.  This  is  rather  more  than  I  can  say  about  the  plot, 
which,  after  the  lovers  have  got  back  to  town,  and.  she  has 


sent  a  wire  saying  they  must  part  for  ever,  becomes  even 
tedious.  Yet  Mr.  CYRIL  I  IAHCOURT  has  written  an  engaging 
fantasy,  which,  though  it  never  convinced  me,  has  many 
delightful  moments.  In  other  words,  Mr.  HAUCOUBT  the 
plot-inventor  will  probably  owe  the  success  of  his  book 
entirely  to  Mr.  HARCOUBT  the  dainty  stylist.  Heavily 
treated,  his  theme  would  have  been  intolerable. 

I  read  The  Power  Behind  (HuxcHiNSON),  by  M.  1*.  \Yiu,- 
COCKS,  with  deep  interest,  as  a  novel  quite  out  of  the 
'  common  run.  Much  of  it  I  have  since  read  a  second  and  a 
third  time,  partly  from  delight  in  its  many  beauties  of  stvle 
and  diction  and  descriptive  power,  and  its  thoughtful  analysis 
of  life,  and  partly  with  the  wish  to  get  a  clearer  understanding 
of  its  author's  design.  In  the  second  o[  these  aims  I  con- 
fess to  have  fallen  short  of  success.  The  girl  who  is  the 
chief  figure  is  brought  into  close  relationship  with  three 
men.  She  was  adopted  first  of  all  by  an  old  West  Country 
doctor  and  naturalist,  who  in  his  youth  had  been  the  loved 
but  rejected  lover  of  her  French  grandmother.  Then  she 
was  secretly  married  by  a  masterful  young  astronomer,  who 

cared  much  more  about 
the  stars  than  for  the 
mother  of  his  child,  and 
brought  wretchedness  and 
disillusionment  into  her 
life.  And  lastly,  when  lie 
died  because  another 
doctor  hesitated  too  long 
to  perform  an  operation 
which  would  have  saved 
him,  she  married  the 
almost  would-be  murderer, 
who  was  old  enough  to  be 
her  father,  and  became 
"  the  power  behind  "  him, 
so  that  he  played  a  finer 
part  among  his  neigh- 
bours than  ho  would  have 
done  without  her  help. 
All  this  is  straightforward 
enough,  and  is  worked  out 
with  taste,  and  discretion. 
But  I  feel  dimly  that  there  is  a  power  —  that  Miss 
WILLCOCKS  has  a  power — behind  it  that  I  have  not  fully 
grasped.  And  to  some  extent  I  think  that  is  her  fault 
and  not  mine.  Her  canvas  is  overcrowded  with  people 
and  ideas.  In  the  title  of  nearly  every  chapter  there  is  un 
abstract  thought  large  enough  in  itself  to  furnish  material 
for  a  separate  novel.  In  this  respect  her  book  is  inclined 
to  be  vague  and  baffling.  But  then  so  is  life,  with  its  good 
in  ill  and  its  ill  in  good.  And  because  The  Power  Behind 
is  a  fine  picture  of  life  it  seems  to  me  a  book  that  is  very 
well  worth  reading. 

Miss  MONTBESOR'S  The  Strictly  Trained  Mather  (MURRAY) 
is  a  gentle  chronicle  of  rather  smaller  beer  than  is  likely  to 
suit  the  general  palate.  The  story  of  Mrs.  Betterton,  ruth- 
lessly managed  out  of  all  liberty  by  her  competent  daughters 
and  breaking  away  from  home  to  go  and  stay  with  a  grand- 
child, cannot  be  said  to  provide  matter  that  is  morbidly 
exciting.  The  old  lady's  portrait  has  been  done  with  skill 
and  sympathy  but  the  daughters'  outlines  are  not  free  froir 
a  rather  crude  exaggeration.  There  are  no  doubt  man) 
managing  folk  who  would  do  well  to  read  this  little  stnd\ 
of  results;  though  they  might  only  say,  "I  quite  agree!  "  o; 
"  How  ridiculous ! "  without  making  suitable  inferences 
For  the  rest  of  us  I  cannot  honestly  say  that  there's  quiti 
enough  interest  in  this  palo  narrative. 


PASTIMES   OF   THE   GEEAT. 
Ma.  HALL  OAISE'S  ETEEXAL  QUEST  FOR  A  BOOKSHOP  THAT  DOES  KOT 


s,.:,-n.:Mi.K«  3,  1913.]  riJNCH,   OK  TJIM   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


139 


n 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  Kin«  of  ROUMANIA  was  attacked, 
tlio  oilier  day,  by  a  gang  of  bandits. 
Alt'1!-  I  Irs  MAJKSTY'S  recent  appropria- 
tion of  Bulgarian  territory  we  fool  very 
st.roiigly  that  their  notion  was  contrary 
to  a  proper  sense  of  rxprit  dc  corps. 

It  has  been  decided  by  the  Govern- 
ment not  to  send  a  puni- 
tive expedition  against 
tlio  MAD  MULLAH.  We 
consider,  however,  that  a 
pretty  sharp  letter  ought 
to  bo  addressed  to  him  ; 
otherwise  he  will  think 
wo  don't  mind. 


One  hundred-and-fifty 
German  physicians 
arrived  in  Dublin  last 
week,  and  visited  Guin- 
ness's  Brewery ;  also 
Trinity  College  Medical 
School  and  the  College 
of  Surgeons. 

:i:     $ 

Le  Temps  expresses 
itself  in  favour  of  a 
Channel  Tunnel  divided 
into  two  sections  —  one 
for  the  railway,  and  one 
for  motor  traffic.  Why 
not  a  third,  asks  an  Irish 
correspondent,  for  air- 
craft? ...  o. 

Nine  years  after  being 
posted  from  Buxton  on 
August  25th,  1904,  a 
post  -  card  was  received 
last  week  by  Mrs.  MAR- 
MoN',  of  51,  Great  Queen 
Street.  It  is  only  fair  to 
point  out  that  the  Liberal 
Postmaster-General  has 
succeeded  here  where  bis 
Conservative  predecessor 
failed.  


might  be  replaced  by  india-rubber  in 
the  case  of  adults,  and  by  ink-eraser  in 
the  case  of  children. 

1'y  tlio  way,  not  so  long  ago,  rubber 
was  used  largely  for  floating  companies. 
This  application  of  it  seems  now  to 
have  fallen  into  desuetude. 

::•   # 

-','• 

The   Open-Air  Theatre  Society  has 


Mr.  GODFREY 
as  pessimist! 
annual  meeting 


ISAACS 
At  the 
of  the 


IN    I93O. 

"I   SAY,    CARRY  THIS   BAG   TO  THE   STATION  FOR  ME,    WILL  YOU?" 

"Ho,  YUS,  AND  'AVE  TUB  UNIOX  ON  TEH  ME." 
"WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN?" 

"\\'HY,  IF  I  TOUCHED  THAT  THERE  BAG  I'D  'AVE  THE  AMALGERMATKD 
SOCIETY  OF  LOAFERS  ON  ME  TIIACK.    THAT  's  WOT." 


will  feel  compelled  to  make  a  charge  of 
one  penny  for  such  a  ride.  Otherwise, 
it  is  I'eaicd,  mean  persons  would  make 
a  habit  of  taking  their  rides  that  way. 

While  two  bo\s  \\ere  endca\  ouring 
to  burn  out  a  wasps'  nest  on  a  farm  at 
JIalstead,  Suffolk,  last  week,  an  out 
stack  was  accidentally  fired  and  entirely 
consumed,  damage  being  done  to  the 
amount  of  JE150.  It  is 
said  that  nothing  more 
ghoulish  has  ever  been 
heard  than  the  laughter 
of  the  wasps  on  ap- 
preciating what  had 
happened.  


A  fly  (who  was  clear- 
ly not  a  militant,  for 
it  happened  in  New 
Zealand)  has  burnt  a 
house  down.  The  insect 
got  itself  alight  by  flying 
tli rough  a  gas  jet,  and  in 
its  fall  set  the  window- 
curtains  ablaze— and 
hence  the  conflagration. 
"  Burn  that  bouse!  "  may 
yet  become  the  flies' 
answer  to  "Kill  that  fly  I" 
•'.'•  '-.' 

Motor  prison-vans,  it  is 
announced,  will  be  seen 
in  the  London  streets  in 
a  few  weeks'  time.  It 
will  be  interesting  to  note 
whether  this  leads  to  an 
increase  of  custom. 

Dr.  WOODWARD  of  the 
(ieological  Department 
of  the  British  Museum 
has  pronounced  the  skull 
recently  discovered  at 
Ealing  to  be  that  of  a 
woolly  rhinoceros  of  the 
Pleistocene  age.  This, 
we  understand,  is  the 
sort  that  spinster  ladies 
used  to  keep  as  pets  at 
that  time.  ... 


Marconi  Company  he  prophesied  that 
the  day  was  not  far  distant  when,  even 
if  we  were  aboard  ship,  our  friends  on 
land  would  be  able  to.  ring  us  up  by 
means  of  wireless  telephony. 

Both  the  Rubber  Growers'  Associa- 
tion   and    the    Rubber    Sharebrokers' 
•iation     are     offering     handsome 
pri/os  for  the  discovery  of  new  uses  for 


rubber.     We    trust 
their  awards,   these 


that,    in 
Associations 


making 


will 


remember  that  it  was  Mr.  Punch  who 
first  suggested  that,  if  the  price  of 
soap  continued  to  rise,  that  commodity 

VOL.    CXI.V. 


Dr.    II.  F.   BAKER  is, 

applied  to  the  London  County  Council  j  we  read,  to  address  the  British  Asso- 


for  permission  to 
parks.  We  know 
ending  a  drought. 


give  plays    in   the •  ciation    on    the    importance    of    pure 


no  surer  means  of 


A  new  life-guard  which  is  now  being 
tested  on  motor-omnibuses  will,  it  is 
said,  when  it  collides  with  you,  pick 
you  up  and  carry  3-011  along  on  a  kind 
of  screen  until  the  vehicle  stops.  If 
the  contrivance  works  well  we  see  no 
reason  why  it  should  not  develop  into 
"  Society's  latest  craze." 

We  understand  that  the  companies 


mathematics  in  the  ordinary  relations 
of  life.  Can  it  be  that  even  our  mathe- 
matics are  becoming  decadent?  If  so, 
it  is  good  to  know  that  steps  are  to  be 
taken  to  keep  them  pure. 

Lord  HOWARD  DE  WALDEX  has  gone 
to  Shuna,  in  the  Western  Hebrides. 
His  Lordship,  The  Glasgow  News  in- 
forms us,  will  spend  his  leisure  there 
"  in  fishing  for  fish  in  the  sea."  We 
have  often  wondered  what  people 
fished  for. 


200 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  3,  1913. 


PEACE    WEEK. 

[•Contemporaneously  with  the  Carnival  at  the  Hague  in  connection 
with  the  opening  of  the  Palace  of  Peace,  attention  was  drawn  m  t 
Press  to  arrangements  for  further  internecine  contests  between  the 
iberal  and  Labour  Parties  at  the  next  Election.  During  the  same 
pcrkxl  there  was  a  strike  of  the  Building  and  Allied  Trades  m  London 
which  affected  the  Office  of  Works,  the  Atheuceum  Club,  and  other 
well-known  institutions.] 

WHILE  jocund  banners  wave  above 

CARNEGIE'S  Palace,  called  of  Peace, 
And  all  the  embassies  of  Love 

Give  their  emotions  full  release; 
While  She,  the  warrior  peoples'  guest, 

Enters  the  gates,  an  honoured  boarder, 
And  on  the  Founder's  heaving  chest 

They  pin  the  Orange  Nassau  Order; — 

While  banquets  mark  with  seemly  mirth 

The  dawning  age  of  muted  drums 
When  war  shall  cease  to  blast  the  earth 

(Until  the  next  occasion  comes) ; 
While  olives  bulge  from  every  beak 

And  each,  in  Dutch,  adores  his  neighbour- 
Is  this,  I  ask,  the  proper  week 

To  fan  the  Liberal  feud  with  Labour? 

If  nations  born  to  martial  lust 

Can  so  assemble  at  the  Hague 
To  talk  in  terms  of  mutual  trust 

(Though  possibly  a  little  vague), ' 
Shall  brethren  fight?  ,  Shall  Tory  prints 

Be  suffered  to  indulge  in  glib  blab, 
Dropping  the  most  offensive  hints 

Of  ructions  lewdly  known  as  Lib-Lab  ? 

Alas!  'tis  so!  Affection  cools, 

And,  as  the  masses  catch  the  chill,  - 
The  Works  Department  downs  its  tools 

And  BEAUCHAMP  gets  a  bitter  pill ; 
And,  just  to  spite  the  Liberal  few 

In  that  Conservative  Museum, :;: 
The  decorators,  gone  askew, 

Decline  to  wash  The  Athenasum. 

Ah !   what  avails  yon  Palace  scheme 

(As  good  as  Sydenham's  own,  I  guess) 
If  kinsmen  cannot  form  one  team, 

Or  coalitions  coalesce? 
What  is  the  use  of  Europe  bound 

By  one  continuous  cosmic  tether 
If  Lib  and  Lab,  on  common  ground, 

Cannot  lie  down  and  coo  together?       O.  S. 

*  The  word  is  here  used  in  its  original  and  higher  significance  to 
mean  a  Temple  of  the  Muses,  not  a  repository  of  antiquities. 


THE  RUSTIC  INNKEEPER. 

(A  SILLY  SEASON  SYMPOSIUM.) 
SIR, — I  was  touring  through  the  Western  Counties  on 
my  180  h.-p.  Mercedes  when  I  reached  the  cheery  little 
town  of  Blickhampton.  I  stopped  at  the  leading  hotel, 
"  The  Blue  Boar,"  and  told  the  landlord  that  I  proposed 
to  dine  there.  Knowing  that  he  would  scarcely  have  a  chef 
at  so  small  an  establishment  I  suggested  the  following 
simple  menu — an  omelette  Eusse,  veal  cutlets  a  la  Main- 
tenon,  half  a  brace  of  grouse,  and  any  simple  sweet  his 
cook  could  supply.  To  my  amazement  he  replied,  "  You 
can  have  chops,  or  steaks,  or  bacon  and  eggs."  I  told  him 
of  the  delightful  meals  I  had  had  served  at  a  moment's 


notice  in  Carcassonne  and  Nijni  Novgorod,  and  his  answer 
was  (I  give  it  verbatim),  "  You  may  get  them  things  in 
America,  but  we  ain't  asked  for  a  dinner  once  in  a  month." 
The  more  one  tries  to  simplify  the  task  of  the  country 
hotel-keeper  the  more  pig-headed  and  obstinate  he  becomes. 
Yours  truly,  A  CITIZEN  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Siu, — I  have  been  making  a  five  days'  tour  of  your  island, 
visiting  all  its  points  of  historical  interest,  the  ancestral 
home  cf  the  WASHINGTONS,  the  residence  of  BKNJAMIN 
FRANKLIN'S  great-aunt,  and  the  gaols  inhabited  by  the 
persecuted  Pilgrim  Fathers  before  they  started  to  make  the 
greatest  country  the  world  lias  ever  known.  At  not  one  of 
your  local  inns  have  I  ever  found  more  than  a  single  bath- 
room. At  the  Astor  Hotel,  New  York,  there  is  not  a 
single  bedroom  without  four  bath-rooms,  and  the  suites 
rented  to  multis  always  have  ten.  Even  the  cheap  hotels 
would  be  ashamed  if  they  had  not  two  bath-rooms  for 
every  guest.  And  I  have  not  even  seen  a  tonsorial  parlour 
at  one  of  your  country  hotels.  1  asked  for  the  tonsorial 
parlour  at  the  Puck  Hotel,  Little  Chidgley,  to-day,  and 
was  told  that  there  was  none,  but  the  boots  would  brush 
me  down  in  the  lobby.  Don't  you  ever  wash  or  shave? 
Can't  you  get  the  hayseed  out  of  your  hair? 

Yours  truly,      KENDRICK  J.  BINGS  (of  Pluto,  Mass.). 

Sin, — Touring  through  the  Midland  Counties  with  that 
distinguished  German  savant,  Dr.  Offticher  (on  a  special 
investigation  to  discover  traces  of  Teutonic  civilization  in 
rural  British  life),  we  came  at  2  A.M.  (in  consequence  of 
a  motor  breakdown)  to  The  Reindeer,  Chipping  Tutbury, 
Eutland.  I  remembered  a  night  visit  I  had  paid  with  the 
same  famous  savant  to  an  hotel  in  the  Black  Forest — the 
choice  omelette  which  was  instantly  cooked ;  the  fourteen 
varieties  of  sausage  which,  as  if  by  art-magic,  seemed  to  leap 
on  to  the  table.  I  thought  it  would  be  a  joy  to  give  him  a 
pleasant  little  night-meal  on  this  occasion.  After  I  had 
knocked  at  the  door  of  The  Reindeer  for  ten  minutes,  a 
head  appeared  at  the  bedroom  window.  "Good  morning," 
I  said  politely.  "  Can  we  have  a  hot  supper  for  two  imme- 
diately?" "Go  to  blazes!"  came  the  uncouth  reply,  and 
the  window  was  instantly  shut.  ; 

Dr.  Offlicher  is  strongly  of  opinion  that  traces  of  debasing 
Celtic  influences  are  to  be  found  i,n  Chipping  Tutbury. 

Yours  truly,      ONE  ASHAMED  OF  HIS  COUNTRY'S  INNS. 


-  AERIAL  ETIQUETTE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  am  always  anxious  to  do  the  gentle- 
manly thing,  but,  though  my  mater  has  got  a  book  about 
Etiquette,  it  doesn't  say  anything  about  flying,  which  is 
what  I  am  worried  about.  I  hope  you  won't  mind  my 
asking  your  advice,  because  I  know  if  1  told  my  own  people 
they  would  immediately  knock  the  whole  thing  on  the 
head.  I  have  sixpence  per  week  pocket-money,  and,  as  I 
am  dead  keen  on  flying,  I  have  saved  up  the  two  guineas 
which  is  the  lowest  price  for  flight  at  Hendon  (no  reduction 
for  children).  It  has  taken  ages  to  do  it,  including  tips, 
but  I  don't  grudge  the  money.  The  awkward  part  is  I 
have  just  got  the  exact  sum,  and  I  wonder  if  you  are 
supposed  to  give  the  driver  sixpence  for  himself,  like  you 
do  a  taxi  ?  That  would  mean  waiting  another  week  ;  but 
I  want  to  do  the  proper  thing,  especially  if  it 's  GHAHAJIE- 
WHITE.  Yours  truly, 

JAMES  HODGKINSON  GREEN  (Jux.). 

P.S. — All  the  same  I  don't  see  how  it  could  make  any 
difference  to  the  sort  of  flight  they  gave  you,  because  the 
aviator  wouldn't  know  what  he  was  going  to  get  till  he  'd 
landed  you — would  he  ? 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— SEPTEMBER  3,  1913. 


THE    LAND-CAMPAIGNER. 

MR.  LLOYD  GEORGE.  " I    WONDER    IF    I    OUGHT    TO    GINGER   IT   UP   OR   WATER    IT    DOWN?" 

[The  CHANCELLOR  is  reported  to  have  been  camping  out  on  a  Welsh  mountain.] 


StflTKMllKK    3, 


JT.NVir,    Oli   TIIK   LONDON    ('IIAIMV.MM. 


203 


["  Since  the  introduction  of  tarmac  the  surface  of  many  roads  resembles  a  cement  tennis-court  more  than  an  ordinary  highway." 

Road  Board's  Report.] 
TUB  INGENIOUS  Mn.  FABNBOBOUOH-SVTTHB  irvviso  INVESTED  TIIK  r.isrxG  TEXXIS-NET,  ins  WIFE  is  GIVING  A  SERIES  OF  MOST 

lp;.I.[',UTFUL  nECKI'XIOSS  AT  T1IE  3ilH   MILESTONE,   1'OBTSMOUTU  BOAD. 


A   LUCKY   ESCAPE. 

SOME  people  are  not  like  others ;  I 
am  one  .of  thorn.  To  most  men  the 
refusal  of  a  proposal  is,  in  sporting 
terms,  a  knock-out  blow.  A  refusal 
by  Diana  is,  I  should  think,  the  worst 
possible.  And  yet  I  rmrely  smiled,  and 
with  some  appropriate,  light,  half- 
hurnorous  remark  I  turned  the  con- 
vocation into  other  channels. 

I  almost  think  Diana  was  the  more 
•ted  of  the  twain. 

No  ono  would  have  guessed  that  the 
well-groomed,  debonair  man,  chatting 
so  gaily  with  his  beautiful  companion, 
had  just  been  refused  by  her.  But  he 
had  ;  and  perhaps  the  incident  defines 
my  character  more  clearly  than  many 
words. 

That  evening  I  sat  up  very  late, 
thinking.  Suddenly  I  reflected  that 
Diana  was  a  woman,  and  it  is  the  privi- 
lege ef  women— nay,  even  a  proof  of  true 
womanhood — to  change  their  minds. 

Diana  in  time  must  change  her  mind. 

1  met  her  two  days  later  and  im- 
ussdiately  started  to  change  it.  Diana 
is,  however,  very  clever. 

"  If  you  "re  going  to  propose,"  she 
"don't." 

I  did.  After  all,  what  are  a  few 
words  wasted  ? 


Follosving  this  incident  Diana  be- 
came very  alert.'  When  we  encountered 
she  somehow  or  other  kept  me  at  bay, 
and,  if  necessary,  took  to  flight.  But 
she  found  in  myself  a  foeman  worthy 
of  her  steel. 

"Hello!"  I  said,  one  morning. 
"  Doing  anything  on  Friday  ?  " 

"No,"  she  replied,  falling  into  the  trap. 

"  Like  to  get  married  ?  "  I  suggested, 
and  was  so  pleased  at  having  got  past 
her  guard  that  I  hardly  noticed  her 
mind  had  not  changed. 

"  Ah,  well,"  I  thought.  "  Some  day 
I  shall  catch  her  when  her  mind  is 
wanting  a  change  ;  then  we  shall  see." 

Eloquent  appeals  were  out  of  the 
question;  my  proposals  had  to  be 
short  and  to  the  point.  I  flatter  my- 
self that,  at  times,  I  was  original.  The 
culminating  effort  was  a  telegram  (reply 
paid)  as  follows :  "  What  day  would 
suit?  " 

The  reply  (paid)  was  very  terse : 
"  None  at  all." 

I  felt  it  could  only  be  construed  in 
one  way.  And  then  I  had  a  sudden 
inspiration. 

Some  people  are  not  like  others,  and, 
as  I  told  you,  I  am  one  of  them.  With 
me  thirteen  is  a  lucky  number.  My 
thirteenth  attempt  would  bring  me  luck. 

A  brief  calculation  showed  that  I  had 


already  put  the  question  eleven  times. 
Only  two  more  tries  were  needed. 

The  twelfth  was  a  clever  piece  of 
acting.  I  rang  up  Diana  on  the  tele- 
phone, disguised  my  voice,  and  then 
proposed  like  lightning.  Then  I  sal 
down  to  consider  my  next  move.  The 
thirteenth  proposal  was  to  be  successful ; 
it  ought  to  be  exceptionally  good. 

For  two  days  I  thought  very  care- 
fully, but  no  idea  came  to  me. 

On  the  third  day  I  received  a  letter 
addressed  in  Diana's  handwriting.  I  lost 
my  breath.  Had  she  anticipated  my 
thirteenth  proposal  and  accepted?  With 
trembling  fingers  I  tore  the  envelope 
open ;  a  dainty  shoot  of  notepaper  fell 
out.  Quickly  I  seized  and  read  it. 
Then  I  winced  as  in  great  pain. 

Blindly  I  groped  for  the  telephone. 
Even  her  number  was  engaged.  Even- 
tually I  was  put  through. 

"  Diana,"  I  said,  "  you  can't  marry 
Denholme.  Throw  him  over.  I  'm 
proposing  for  the  thirteenth  time :  six 
times  more  than  Robert  Bruce,  and  iny 
lucky  number." 

"  Sorry,"  said  Diana, "  I  never  change 
my  mind." 

And  then  I  realised  that  thirteen 
was  indeed  my  lucky  number.  I  had 
had  an  escape.  Diana  was  no  true 
woman ;  she  never  changed  her  mind. 


ASSURED    REVOLUTION. 

[In  the  fear  that  the  Ulster  cause  has  not 
been  sullii  h-ntly  advertised  lately,  the  author 
begs  to  offer  this  little  sketch,  at  tho  opening 
of  a  new  dramatic  season,   to   any  manager 
patriotic  enough  to  take  it.] 
The  scene  is  laid  in  the  private  house 
of  Mr.  James  McSmith,  a  hard-headed 
Jielfast  linen  manufacturer.     Mr.  and 
Mrs.   McSmith    are    scaled    in    the 
library,    a    commodious   room,  fur- 
nished on  the  north  wall  with  a  large 
photogravure  of  Sir  EI>H'ARI>  CAB- 
KON  and  Mr.  UONAII  LAW  shaking 
hands,  on  the  east  wall  with  one  of 
Sir  Evw.titi)  VAUNON  and  Mr.  I1'.  E. 
SMITH   slinking   hands,   and   on    the 
west  wall  with  one  of  Sir  Er>WAiti> 
CAMUON  and  Lord  CHAHLES  BKHKH- 
/•niti>  shaking  hands.    The  south  wall 
has  been  removed  for  the  convenience 
of  the  audience,  but  actu- 
ally   it    bears    a    large 
photogravure  of  Sir  ED- 
WARD CAUKON  and  Lord 

WlLLOUUHIiX  1)}']  JJltOKJ'! 

shaking  hands.     On  the 

mantelpiece  is  a  snapshot 

of  Mr.  James   McSmith 

himself  signing  the  cove- 
nant. 

Muter  Norah  McSmitli. 

Norah.  Oil,  father,  there 's 
another  photograph  just 
como  from  tho  enlarger's. 
It 's  of  Sir  EDWAHD  shaking 

hi' nils    with    Mr.    ROWLAND 

1 1 1  NT.    What  are  we  going 
to  do  with  it? 

McSmith  (much  moved). 
\  ;  i  in  ing  picture,  my  dear. 
Hang  it  in  tho  drawing- 
room,  whore  our  visitors 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  3.  1913 

I  business.  We  are  in  for  a— h'r'em — 
a — a — bloody  Civil  War  next  year,  and 
as  a  loyal  subject  of  tho  King  I  need 
hardly  say  that  I  'in  quite  prepared  to 
take  part  in  if. 

1'iimkin.  Of  course. 
McSmith.  If,  as  wo  all  expect,  there 
is  to  be  fighting,  desperate  fighting,  I 
am  prepared  to  sell  my  life  dearly. 
llankin.  Quito  so. 

McSmith.  But  though  I  am  prepared 
to  shed  tho  last  drop  of  my  blood,  still 
more  to  shed  tho  last  drop  of  tho  blood 
of  any  troops  sent  against  us,  I  should 
— er — naturally  bo  very  much  upset  if 
my  property  got  damaged  in  any 

Jiankin.  I  quito  understand,  Mr. 
McSmith.  I  may  say  that  that  feeling 
is  extraordinarily  prevalent  in  Ulster 
just  now. 

McSmith.  You  seo  what  I  mean '.' 
Death,  particularly  the 
death  of  others,  is,  after  all, 
a  littlo  thing- — a  loyal 
Ulsterman  can  face  it 
cheerfully;  but  financial 
loss  hits  him  very  ha  id. 
1  propose,  therefore,  to 
insure  this  house  and  the 
factory  against  damage  by 
revolution,  and  1  want  you 
to  see  about  it  for  me. 

liankin  (moved  inure,  than 
a  solicitor  'in  >  11  lil  care  to 
admit).  My  dear  Sir,  your 
feelings  do  you  infinite 
credit.  And,  lot  mo  assure 
you,  you  are  not  alone  in 
your  romantic  and  chival- 
rous idealism.  All  Belfast 
feels  the  same.  The  news, 


Mrs.  McSmilh.  Back?  Why,  where 
has  ho  been? 

McSmilh  (my steriousli/).  Ah,  my  love! 
Wo  were  keeping  it  as  a  little  surprise 
for  you.  Still,  you  may  as  well  bo 
told  now.  (Importantly)  As  you  know, 
dear,  I  am  in  tho  councils  of  tho  Pro- 
visional Government,  and  at  tho  last 
meeting  I  exerted  my  influence  to  got 
our  son  a  post.  Ho  was  sent  for  to-day ; 
and  I  hope,  I  greatly  hope — 

Enter  John  McSmith,  the  hard-headed 
son. 

John  (proudly).  It 's  all  right,  father, 
I  've  got  a  job.     They  'vo  made  mo — 
You  '11  never  guess. 

McSmith  (eagerly).  Inspector  of  tho 
Brick-bats?  Snapshotter  to  tho  Marchers 
Past?  Descriptive  reporter  of  the  Hand- 
shakes? 

John.  No,  no,  better  than  that.    I  "in 


PASTIMES  OF  THE  GREAT. 

SUFFBAGETTB  PBIVATKLY  HABDENINd    HEBBKI.F   AGAINST   GABTBONOMIC 
TKMITATION   WITH  AN   KYE   TO    1'BOBABLE   1IUNOEB-BTB1KKH  IN  THE  NKAll 


I///,.  McSmitli  (placidly).  Not  in  tho| — (dramatically) — Warden  of  tho  Voice 


drawing-room,  Norah. 

Norah.  Well,  rei.uy,  it's  tho  only 
room  left,  mothei . 

Mi  .•;.  McSmilh.  You  forgot  tho  bath- 
room, love. 

McSmilh  (indignantly).  Tho  bath- 
room I  Certainly  not ! 

Mrs.  McSmith.  Just  over  tho  taps, 
Norah. 

Norah.  Eight  you  are,  mother. 

\Slie  goes  out,  slamming  the  door 
behind  her. 

McSmith  (jumping  up  from  his  seat). 
flood  Heavens,  what's  that? 

Mrs.  McSmith.  Only  Norah,  dear. 
I  'm  always  telling  her  not  to. 

McSmith  (mopping  his  broiv).  I 
thought  it  was  a  pistol  shot.  I  thought 
tho  revolution  had  begun. 

Mrs.  McSmith  (soothingly).  There, 
there,  James.  You  forget  it  doesn't 
begin  till  next  year. 

She  goes  on  placidly  with  her  knitting. 

McSmith  (testily).  Why  doesn't  John 
como?  It 's  quito  time  ho  was  back. 


Lozenges ! 

McSmith  (overcome  ivith  emotion). 
My  boy  1 

Mrs.  McSmith.  Well,  so  long  as  you 
don't  get  your  feet  wet — 

John.  And  that  reminds  me.  I  saw 
Eankin  and  said  you  wanted  to  speak 
to  him.  He  '11  bo  up  hero  at  any 
moment. 

McSmith.  Ah,  good  !  I  've  important 
business  to  discuss  with  him.  My 
dear,  would  you  mind 

John.  Como  into  the  garden,  mother. 

[Mrs.  McSmith  and  John  go  out. 
Enter  Eankin,  a  hard  -  headed 
solicitor. 

McSmith.  Good  morning,  Eankin. 
Sit  down,  won't  you  ?  You  'vo  hoard 
about  my  boy,  I  suppose.  (Carelessly) 
Warden  of  the  Voice  Lozenges.  Jt's  a 
lii ii!  post  for  so  young  a  man. 

liankin.  1  lo  '11  bo  pretty  hard  worked, 
I  expect. 

McSmith.  I  suppose  so.  Well  now, 
Uankin,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about 


when  it  gets  about,  will  bo 
a  trumpet  call  to  England. 
McSmith   (simply).    Say    no    more, 
Eankin.     I  am  only  doing  my  duty. 
[He  turns  to  the  north  wall  mid  siii//l.ns 
the  large  photogravure  of  Sir  l'!i>- 
WARI>  CAIISON  and  Mr.  BON.I  u  L  A  w 
shaking  hands. 

CUHTAIN. 

ACT  II. 

A  year  later.  The  scene  is  the  same. 
McSmith  is  discovered  in  the 
librari/.  [  Enter  John. 

McSmith.  Well,  John:  had  another 
buHy  day  ? 

John  (bitterly).  Busy?  I've  lost,  my 
job. 

McSmith.  Why,  how  's  that  ?   I 
day  I  read  of  tho  long  speeches  which 
our   noble  leader  delivers  lo  tho  army. 
As  Warden  of  tho  Voico  Lo/en;, 

John.  That's  just  it.  Bar  a  littlo 
rioting  and  revolver-shooting  among 
our  own  men  there's  been  nothing 
doing  for  three  month.;  except  har- 
angues to  tho  troops.  The  result  is  that 
the  supply  of  lo;-,en;>vs  ha",  comp 


SKITKMUKH  :i,  1913.] 


PUNCH,    Oil   TIIK    LONDON    CIIAIM  V  AIM. 


205 


Indignant Bather.  "Go  AWAY!    I  OBJKCT  TO  BKINO  PHOTOGRAPHED  is  THE  WATER!" 

riiotograpJier.  "BcT  I'M  TAKING  THKSK  FOB  THK  WEEKLY  TAPERS;    BESIDES,  I  DOH'I  THISK  I  TOOK  YOU." 

Indignant  Bather.  "  WHY  NOT?    WHAT  IMPEP.TIKCNCE  !  " 


•n  out.    And  now  that  the  so-called  '  [Re-enter  John. 

H'.uisii-GovBrnment  has  gone  and  put       John  (with  emotion).  A  revolver  shot 
a   t;iK  on  'em  I   don't  see  how  we're  through    the    drawing-room    window. 


Hit  mother  in  the  shoulder.     They  've 
sent  for  the  doctor.     It's  bad,  but  I 


going  to  get  any  more. 

-•nith.  Why  not,  John  ? 
John.  Father,  don't  be  absurd.     The 

sonoy  would  go  to  the  Nationalist !      Me  Smith  (bravely).  John,  we  must 
Parliament,  of  course.  bear  this  like  heroes.     It  is  our  first 

McSmith.  Ah,  yes,  I  was  forgetting  sacrifice  for  the  cause. 


don't  think  dangerous. 


The  Perils  of  Cricket. 
In  a  cricket  match  between  Montreal 
and  the  Australians,  MATNK  (according 
to  The  Montreal  Daily  Star)  was  dis- 
missed by  "  a  bull  that  kept  low." 


John.  And  the  result  is,  as  I  say,  that 
I\o  lost  my  job.  (Gloomily)  I  don't 
know  what  our  leaders  will  do.  The 
army  can't  fight  because  there 's  no  one 

it  against,  and  the  generals  will 


have  to  go  on  making  speeches, 
nothing  to  do  it  on 


"With 


Good 


[A  shot  is  heard. 
heavens,      what 's 


Smith. 

that '.' 

Jc>hn  (calmly).  Revolver.      Some  of 
our  men  play  ing  the  fool.      By  Jove, 


xled  near, 
this  way. 

[Enter  Servant  hastily. 

'.int.  Fire,    fire  !      The   mistress 
has  been  shot.  (She  faints.) 


John  (much  moved).  It  came  through 
the  window,  just  where  mother 

McSmith  (patting  him  on  tlie 
shonlder).  Bear  up,  my  dear  boy.  It  is 
not  so  bad  as  you  think.  (Trium- 
phantly) The  window  is  insured! 

CURTAIN.       A.  A.  M. 

Painful  Beflsction  on  the  First 

Commissioner  of  Works. 
The  Glolif.  after  discussing  details  of 
the  strike  at  the  Office  of  Works,  goes 
on  to  say,  "  Up  to  the  present  there 


wonder  i  t  came  jias  been  no  serious  interference  with 
any  service  of  public  utility."  Lord 
HK.UX  HAMP  will  please  note. 

From  a  Charing  Cross  bookseller's 


"The  Real  Estate  Trust  Company  is  the 
agent  for  this  property,  a  9-room  residence,  of 
the  living  room  type,  having  two  baths  in  a 
desirable  neighborhood." 

Within  a  shilling  taxi  drive,  we  hope. 


Mr.  RALPH  CONNOR  as  reprinted  in 
The  Manitoba  Free  Press : — 

"I,  who  have  never  set  foot  outside  my 
nativo  shoes.  .  ." 

They  must  bo  too  small  for  him  by  now. 


McSmith    (;-,-ikly).    John,   go    and   window:--- 

(ExtfJoha).  Dear,  dear!  (He  looks'.  "L.\i\.>   TYIT 

•.';/  the  trails  dully,  slou-ly  gathering'  ™  LATIN." 

•••age  from,  the  photographs  o/;CiCEiio  was  always  at  his  best  in  this 
a:i)  CARSON.)  [language. 


••  Until  last  week  no  Englishman  hid  taken 
so  much  as  a  set  from  him.  Indeed  the  sets 
ho  has  dropped  during  the  last  year  could 
almost  bo  counted  on  the  fingers  of  two 
hands — five  to  Brookes  in  Australia,  five  to 
McLoughlin  at  Wimbledon,  two  to  Wilding 
at  Manchester,  two  each  to  F.  G.  Lowe  and 
Beamish  in  the  Australasian  championship  at 
Hastings,  New  Zealand,  one  to  Graham  at 
Dublin,  one  to  Doust  at  Newcastle,  and  one  t •„> 
A.  H.  Lowe  at  Scarborough." 

Manchester  Giiani'mi. 

If  the  writer  is  also  a  golfer  he  should 
try  the  overlapping  grip.     IIo   has  a 
|  grand  pair  of  hands  for  it. 


206 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  3,  1913. 


A  MUSICAL-OLYMPIC  APPEAL. 

THE  recurrence  in  the  year  1914  of 
the  great  International  Pan-Orphic 
Competitive  Festival  to  be  held  at 
Vienna  hrings  home  to  all  patriotic 
British  musicians  the  peremptory  need 
of  securing  adequate  representation  of 
their  country  at  this  great  tournament 
of  song  and  sound.  The  situation  is 
best  understood  by  the  following  state- 
ment of  the  results  of  the  last  com- 
petition at  San  Marino  in  1910 : — 

Highest  note  (solo) America. 

Highest  note  (chorus)   .  .  .  Finland. 

Loudest  note  (solo) Patagonia. 

Loudest  note  (chorus)   .  .  .  Corea. 

Deepest  note  (solo) Eussia. 

Deepest  note  (chorus)   .  .  .  Eussia. 
Longest  sustained  note.  .  .  Germany. 
Three-legged  singing-race  .  Turkey. 
Most  powerful  steam  organ  Belgium. 

Largest  larynx Tibet. 

Longest  hair  (pianists) .  .  .  Hungary. 
Largest  butterfly  tie  ....  Venezuela. 
Best      advertised      prima 

donna America. 

Heaviest  Briinnhilde ....  Germany. 
Most  realistic  Carmen  .  .  .  Eoumania. 

Highest  paid  tenor Italy. 

Longest  round  of  applause  Croatia. 
Best  organised  claque   .  .  .  Argentine. 
Largest  wardrobe  (ladies)  .  Eussia. 
Most  epileptic  conductor.  .  Morocco. 
Greatest  number  of  presents 

from  Crowned  Heads  .  .  Italy. 
Greatest  number  of  floral 

tributes Australia. 

Most  eulogistic  criticism  .  .  America. 
Most  savage  ditto Servia. 

It  is,  as  the  Marquis  of  Mull  ob- 
serves in  his  impassioned  appeal  to  the 
public  in  last  Saturday's  Daily  Terror, 
one  long  tale  of  British  disgrace  and 
decrepitude.  That  we  are  a  musical 
nation  cannot  be  denied.  Our  ballad 
concerts,  our  street  organs,  our  devo- 
tion to  the  banjo,  the  concertina  and 
the  penny  whistle  proclaim  it  on  every 
side.  We  have  pledged  ourselves  to 
compete  at  Vienna,  and  yet  with  only 
a  brief  year  in  which  to  prepare  our- 
selves nothing  has  been  done  to  select 
or  train  representatives.  To  expose 
ourselves  to  a  repetition  of  the  defeat 
which  we  underwent  in  1910  is  not 
only  humiliating  but  dangerous.  It 
advertises  our  weakness  and  lends 
't  impetus  to  the  Chauvinistic  policy  of 
)  the  other  Powers.  In  short,  by  neglect- 
ing to  organise  victory  we  disregard  a 
most  effective  insurance  against  in- 
vasion.   

The  Marquis  accordingly  appeals  to 
the  nation  to  raise  a  sum  of  £500,000 
to  enable  the  Executive  Committee  to 
carry  out  their  scheme  for  the  selection 


and  preparation  of  British  representa- 
tives. The  amount,  he  admits,  is  con- 
siderable, but  it  will  be  a  magnificent 
investment  and  will  be  repaid  a  hundred- 
fold in  national  prestige  and  security. 
The  scheme  involves  the  appointment 
of  1,000  "  talent-searchers "  to  scour 
every  corner  of  Great  Britain,  Ireland, 
the  Isle  of  Man  and  the  Scilly  Isles. 
Suitable  competitors,  when  thus  se- 
cured, will  he  sent  to  specially  equipped 
training  colleges,  where  their  preparation 
will  be  systematically  carried  on  under 
the  supervision  of  the  best  experts. 
Thus,  for  example,  candidates  for  the 
heavy-weight  Wagnerian  prima  donna 
prize  will  be  segregated  in  Dietetic 
Sanatoria,  where  they  will  be  subjected 
to  a  process  of  intensive  nutrition  by 
which  a  stone  weight  can  be  put  on  in 
a  fortnight.  

Another  of  these  colleges  will  be 
exclusively  devoted  to  the  cultivation 
of  luxuriant  chevclurcs  by  a  process  of 
constant  immersion  in  hot  baths  of 
petroleum.  Another  and  a  very  costly 
department  of  the  process  of  prepara- 
tion is  the  equipment  of  poor  singers 
with  costumes,  jewels,  pet  dogs  and  all 
the  other  indispensable  paraphernalia 
of  prima  donnahood.  A  special  school 
of  journalism,  again,  will  have  to  be 
maintained  for  the  instruction  of  com- 
petitors for  the  Musical  Criticism  prizes 
in  the  whole  vocabulary  of  eulogy  and 
obloquy.  There  will  also  have  to  be 
High  Note,  Low  Note,  Deep  Note  and 
Long  Note  Gymnasia.  There  must  be 
an  Academy  for  the  promotion  of 
Epileptic  Conductors.  And,  as  the 
Marquis  of  Mull  eloquently  remarks, 
all  this  will  cost  money. 


The  Marquis  of  Mull  concludes  his 
stirring  appeal  with  a  request  that  all 
subscriptions  may  be  sent  to  him  at 
the  Fitz  Hotel.  The  list  has  been 
headed  by  £5,000  from  the  proprietors 
of  The  Hairdressers'  Gazette,  £2,000 
from  the  Marquis  himself,  £1,000  from 
the  Duke  of  Swankerville,  £500  from 
Messrs.  Hufenvogel  and  Fleisehheimer, 
the  great  petroleum  refiners,  and  l/- 
frorn  "  A  Lifelong  Lover  of  Music." 


From  "  Naval  Appointments "  in 
Portsmouth  Evening  Neivs : — 

"Lieutenants.  —  St.  A.  B.  Wake  to  the 
Thunderer,  as  First  Lord." 

And  so  poor  WINSTON'S  brief  reign  is 
ended  ? 

"  Some  amusement  was  afforded  by  a  typical 
Frenchman  with  well- waxed  moustache  who 
.  .  .  cried  again  and  again,  in  true  French 
style  :  '  Encore,  encore,  madame  I  '  " 

Yorkshire  Eccning  News, 

One  can  always  tell  a  Frenchman. 


BEST  MILD  BIRD'S  EAR; 

OH,  WHAT  WAS  OVERHEARD  BY  THE 
LITTLE  GENTLEWOMANLY  BIRD  AT- 
TACHED TO  SOME  OF  OUR  CONTKM- 
rORARIES. 

AT  STKATHMOORSIDE. — That  one  or 
two  grouse  got  away  even  when  his 
lordship  was  shooting. 

AT  HURST  PARK. — That  not  even  the 
pretty  musical  comedy  actress  could 
find  a  winner  in  every  race. 

AT  ST.  PETER'S,  EATON  SQUARE. — 
That  the  bride  was  very  charming. 

AT  YATTENDON. — That  the  Laureate 
may  or  may  not  be  preparing  a  wedding 
ode. 

IN  PARIS. — That  the  little  Comtesse's 
blind  chauffeur  has  at  last  been  dis- 
charged. 

IN  THE  SAME. — That  the  street  named 
after  the  late  KING  EDWARD  is  pro- 
gressing. 

AT  FORT  WILLIAM. — That  "'tis 
better  to  have  loved  and  lost  than  never 
to  have  loved  at  all." 

IN  ST.  JAMES'S  PARK. — That  the 
workmen  are  doing  overtime  on  Buck- 
ingham Palace  and  that  tlie  scene  is 
one  of  great  activity. 

IN  LONDON  GENERALLY. — That  the 
paviors  are  taking  advantage  of  Lon- 
don's emptiness. 

AT  ALDERSHOT. — That  he  was  the 
youngest  subaltern  who  ever  failed  to 
grow  a  moustache. 

AT  MARGATE. — That  a  certain  young 
lady  who  lost  a  spade  on  the  sands  the 
other  day  is  in  danger  of  not  getting  it 
back. 

IN  THE  STRAITS  OP  DOVER. — That 
the  fish  are  talking  of  little  else  but  the 
Channel  tunnel  and  what  it  will  cost 
them. 

IN  BERLIN. — That  questions  of 
foreign  policy  are  not  unlikely  to  be 
requiring  attention  before  long. 

IN  VENICE. — That  the  bathers  at  the 
Lido  include  more  than  one  member  of 
the  Italian  nobility. 

AT  BILCHESTER. — That  the  Earl  and 
Countess  received  many  congratula- 
tions on  the  occasion  of  their  golden 
wedding. 

IN  EOYAL  CIRCLES. — That  the  past 
season  has  been  a  strenuous  one  and  a 
little  rest  is  not  being  resented. 

AT  HOMBUHG. — That  certain  visitors 
this  year  are  more  than  usually  in  need 
of  cures. 

AT  THE  SAME. — That  "  he  may  have 
looked  at  her,  but  that  was  all." 

IN  PARLIAMENT  SQUARE. — Tha1;  the 
Houses  of  Parliament  are  quieter  than 
they  have  been  for  mouths. 

"Many  of  the  low-lying  parts  of  the  river  I 
arc  already  under  water." — Times  of  India. 

This  is  also  true  of  the  Cam. 


SKPTKMBBB  3,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  207 


A 


Batsman  (indignant  at  being  given  out  on  a  confident  appeal  for  a  catch  by  tlie  wicket-keeper,  Brow.i).  "  WHAT  ON  KABTH  MADH  yon 
GIVE  ME  OUT?" 

Honest  and  Painstaking  Umpire.    "WELL,  SIB,  rr  WERE  LIKE  THIS:    MUSTEK  BBOWN  'E  THOUGHT  'TWAS  HOUT,  AXD  I  KNAWKD 

AS   'OW   'E  KNAWED   MORE'M   I   KNAWED,    SO   I   SAYS,    'HOUT.'" 


"A  SCIENTIFIC   INVESTIGATION." 

DEAR  SIR, — Before  making  a  few 
remarks  upon  your  interesting  series 
entitled,  "  Pages  from  the  Diary  of  a 
Fly,"  I  should  like  to  explain  my 
motives  in  writing  to  you  at  all.  They 
are  twofold.  In  the  first  place,  as  a 
naturalist  of,  I  hope,  some  distinction, 
I  want  to  discuss  the  matter  scienti- 
fically. And,  as  the  victim  of  certain 
misguided  people  who,  under  the  im- 
pression that  I  was  a  confirmed  dip- 
teramaniac,  caused  me,  some  years  ago, 
to  be  placed  in  a  home  for  the  mentally 
unsound,  I  wish  to  prove  my  complete 
and  unquestionable  sanity  by  a  course 
of  didactic  reasoning  the  infallibility 
of  which  you  will  be  bound  to  recognise. 

Assuming,  as  I  do,  that  your  alleged 
contributor  hails  from  the  Calyplcratc 
Muscidce  family,  we  are  reduced  to  a 
choice  of  two  species,  viz.,  the  Blow-fly 
or  "  Bluebottle,"  and  the  Musca  domes- 
tica  or  common  "  house  -  fly."  My 
knowledge  of  the  whole  order  Diptera, 
to  say  nothing  of  certain  details  in  the 
narrative  under  discussion,  leads  me  to 
suppose  that  the  writer  belongs  to  the 
latter  of  tho  two  sub-families.  Very 
well.  1  now  come  to  my  contention, 


which  is  this :  that  no  Musca  domestica 
yet  born  can  assimilate  coherent  and 
veracious  ideas  such  as  are  put  forward 
in  this  Diary;  and,  further,  that,  were 
any  fly  possessed  of  this,  capacity,  he 
would  find  the  difficulty  of  transferring 
those  ideas  to  paper,  if  not  utterly 
insurmountable,  at  least  far  greater 
than  you  evidently  suppose. 

One  moment,  Sir!  "Tush,"  I  hear 
you  say,  "  there  it  is  in  black  and  white. 
We  have  the  fly's  word  for  it.  And, 
moreover,  how  can  any  naturalist, 
however  eminent,  make  such  a  compre- 
hensive negation  concerning  the  think- 
ing capacity  of  an  insect  ?  " 

Every  word  that  I  have  written,  Sir, 
I  can  thoroughly  substantiate.  Let  me 
give  a  brief  outline  of  my  own  humble 
researches.  Though  in  the  main  of 
antivivisectionist  principles,  1  have 
made  various  experiments  upon  the 
brain  of  the  Musca  domestica,  in  every 
case  unsuccessfully.  Being  forced  to 
the  reluctant  conclusion  that  nothing 
new  was  to  be  gleaned  from  within,  I 
set  to  work  on  the  inductive  plan. 
Having  obtained  a  healthy  specimen, 
one  entirely  free  from  empusa  and  not 
long  emerged  from  the  pupa  state,  I 
began  a  series  of  instruction  classes 


with  the  view  of  broadening  out  my 
pupil's  imitative  ability.  In  one  in- 
stance only  did  I  achieve  any  real 
measure  of  success.  Occasionally, 
after  clapping  my  hands  and  chuckling 
for  some  minutes,  I  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  him  simulate  the  emotion  of 
glee  by  rubbing  his  front  legs  together. 
But  that  was  all.  Often,  in  trying  to 
make  him  rear  on  his  hind  legs,  I  not 
only  became  stiff  from  my  own  exertions, 
but  experienced  considerable  hoarseness 
from  incessant  reiteration  of  the  word 
"  up."  His  intellect,  if  any,  seemed 
quite  impenetrable.  For  hours  I  was 
in  the  habit  of  reading  to  him  select 
passages  from  Baedeker,  Horace  and 
Bradshaw  without  response.  Only  a 
week  ago  I  subjected  my  theory  to  an 
exhaustive  test.  Having  obtained 
another  excellent  specimen,  I  regaled 
him  with  the  first  reminiscences  of 
your  small  contributor.  If  you  will 
believe  me,  Sir,  his  eyes  showed  no 
flicker  of  interest.  But  not  content  with 
this  as  a  convincing  proof  of  defective 
receptivity,  I  established  what  was 
almost  a  foregone  conclusion — that  he 
was  entirely  unable  to  produce  decipher- 
able hieroglyphics.  I  went  to  the  trouble 
and  expense  of  having  a  diminutive 


208 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  3,  1913. 


Jack  (whose  twin  has  been  Mated  airing  to  measles).  «WHEN'S  TEDDY  COMING  BACK  TO  SLEEP,  BEE?" 

Bee.  "WHY?    Do  YOU  HISS  HIM  AWFULLY?" 

Jack  (promptly).  " RATHER!    ONLY  THIS  MORNING  I  TURNED  OVER  TO  BIFF  HIM  IN  THE  EYE  AND  HE  WASN'T  TIIKHE!  ' 


silver  pen  made  for  him,  one-eighth  of 
an  inch  long.  It  was  relatively  easy 
to  procure  the  pen :  but  to  make  him 
hold  it  was  a  very  different  matter. 
First  I  placed  it  between  the  adhesive 
pads  of  his  front  feet  whilst  he  was 
rubbing  them  together.  The  only  result 
was  that  he  immediately  desisted  from 
his  occupation,  and  the  instrument  fell 
with  a  tiny  clatter  on  to  the  sheet  of 
foolscap  I  had  provided  for  him.  Next 
I  tried  the  lobes  of  his  proboscis,  but 
these  seemed  sadly  lacking  in  tenacity. 
Not  to  be  beaten  too  easily,  however, 
I  dispensed  with  the  manufactured 
article  and  dipped  the  lobes  themselves 
in  a  bottle  of  ink.  This  turned  out  to 
be  an  unfortunate  move,  for,  instead 
of  making  any  attempt  to  transfer  his 
thoughts  to  paper,  he  contented  himself 
with  sucking  up  the  fluid  with  evident 
relish,  thereby  inflicting  upon  himself 
an  attack  of  what  I  took  to  be  acute 
indigestion.  At  any  rate  the  malady 
has  incapacitated  him  from  experimental 
work  for  several  days.  Although  I  intend 
going  into  the  matter  more  thoroughly 
when  my  patient  has  recovered,  I  think 
I  have  said  enough  to  convince  you 
that  this  so-called  Diary,  far  from  being 
the  work  of  any  enlightened  •  member 


of  the  Diptera  family,  is  some  spurious 
production  of  the  (jenus  Homo. 
Yours  in  sympathy, 

OCTAVIUS  GBUBBE  (ex)  F.E.S. 
P.S. — During  a  further  perusal  of 
your  current  issue,  I  have  just  noticed 
the  words  "By  our  Gh  ari  variety  Artiste. " 
This,  of  course,  proves  that  you  your- 
self were  not  the  victim  of  an  imposture, 
and  stultifies  the  main  purpose  of  this 
letter,  which  I  nevertheless  forward  to 
you  for  the  sake  of  its  scientific  interest. 

EOCKS   AHEAD. 

[The  City  of  London  Public  Health  Depart- 
ment have  issued  a  circular  in  which  it  is 
staled  that  the  custom  of  rocking  babies  in 
cradles  is  a  wrong  one  and  should  be 
abolished.] 

UNREST  continues  to  prevail  in  in- 
fluential infant  circles  owing  to  the 
threat  of  the  elders  to  withdraw  cradles, 
and  a  force  of  4,000  fathers  had  to  be 
called  out  during  the  small  hours  to 
quell  threatened  insurrections.  The 
men  were  not  able  to  return  to  bed 
before  daybreak.  It  is  clear  that  the 
paternal  authorities  are  uneasy  and 
dread  an  outburst  at  any  moment. 

At  a  meeting  of  infants  held  in  Little 
Britain,  E.G.,  last  evening  Master 


Bunting  protested  against  their  being 
deprived  of  a  privilege  which  had  been 
theirs  as  babies  since  the  days  when 
their  poets  had  first  sung.    They  would 
remember  that  imperishable  line— 
"  When  the  wind  blows  the  cradle  will  rock." 
He  was  a  Pro-cradler,  as  he  had  always 
been.     Perhaps  he  was  not  so  young  as  | 
he  once  was,  but,  if  they  would  allow 
an  old  infant,  with  eighteen  months  • 
experience  of  the  ways  of  the  world,  k 
advise    them,    they    would    solemnly 
register  a  determination  never  to  gi 
to  bye-bye  without  a  good  rocking. 

The  Procession  of  Babies  made  it: 
way  through  the  principal  streets  las 
evening.  Banners  were  carried  bcarin; 
such  inscriptions  as — 
"THE  HAND  THAT  DOESN'T  ROCK  TH -j 
CRADLE  DOESN'T  EULE  THE  WORLD.- 

You  CAN'T  HAVE  IT  BOTH  WAYS." 

"EOCK   US   IN    THE    CRADLE   OK 
THE    DEEP    IP    YOU    LIKE,    11UT 

EOCK  Us." 

Later. — At  a  meeting  of  Purcnl 
called  specially  last  evening  it  un- 
agreed to  urge  the  Public  Healt 
Department  to  withdraw  their  circula 
It  is  confidently  expected  that  tl 
babies  will  come  in  without  delay. 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— SKPTKMBKR   3,  1913. 


THE     'NATIONAL    DISASTER'     OF    1912. 

JOHN  BULL  (prostrate  with  shame).  "MY  PLACE  IN  THE  COUNCILS  OP  EUEOPE  MAY  BE 
HIGHER  THAN  EVER,  BUT  WHAT'S  THE  USE  OF  THAT  WHEN  THE  OLYMPIC  PALM 
FOE  THE  KNEELING  HIGH  JUMP  IS  BORNE  BY  ANOTHER?" 


BBPTBMBKB  3,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  211 


Flute  (to  Harp).  "THEBE   YOU   ABE — SCHUBERT'S   BUOCGHT   IN   FIVEPENCE — TUPPENCE   WOHSB   THAN   '  THE  ROSARY.'     LET'S 

"AYE  ANOTHER  GO   AT   '  iTCHf-KOO ;  '   IT'S   ALWAYS  WORTH  ONE-AND-A-TANNEB." 


UN  "MEDECIN  MALGRE  LUI." 

'•TALKING  of  doctors,"  said  Holey- 
stone,  "  their  job  isn't  as  easy  as  it 
looks.  I  know — I  was  once  a  doctor 
myself — ship's  doctor — for  two  whole 
days.  I  was  coining  back  from  a 
country  in  South  America  where 
you  must  be  either  a  '  doctor '  or  a 
'  colonel."  I  nominated  myself  '  doctor.' 
1  Doctor '  allows  a  greater  margin  of 
prevarication  than  'colonel.'  There  are 
several  kinds  of  doctors  and  you  don't 
i  have  to  elect  which  kind  you  will  be. 

"  I  didn't  ask  the  agents  to  book  my 
passage  with  this  prefix  to  my  name, 
nor  did  I  ask  my  misguided  friend  to 
introduce  me  to  the  ship's  officers  as 
'Doctor.'  Anyhow,  I  couldn't  have 
foreseen  that  the  resident  medico  would 
take  sick  leave  in  his  bunk  and  that  I 
should  he  appointed  to  his  duties.  I 
might  have  made  a  full  disclosure  to 
the  Captain  and  so  escaped  from  an 
equivocal  position,  but  more  eminent 
men  than  I  have  fallen  into  a  similar 
error. 

"On  the  whole  I  managed  fairly 
well.  It  was  unfortunate  that  the 


patient  whom  I  told  to  knock  off  meat 
turned  out  to  be  a  vegetarian.  If  the 
Lascar  whom  I  treated  had  not  had 
the  sense  to  jump  overboard,  I  might 
have  been  in  trouble  over  his  death 
certificate.  As  it  was,  the  man  was  so 
obviously  drowned  that  a  certificate 
seemed  hardly  necessary.  I  have 
always  had  a  feeling  that  I  should  like 
to  know  what  the  stuff  really  was  that 
I  gave  him.  That  it  did  nothing  to 
soothe  his  last  hours  1  am  certain,  but 
whether  it  was  actually  fatal  in  itself 
I  shall  never  know.  These  uncer- 
tainties are  very  harassing. 

"  I  was  somewhat,  nonplussed  when 
they  brought  a  girl  to  me  who  had  a 
finger  sticking  out  at  the  back  of  her 
hand  at  a  most  absurd  angle.  She 
seemed  surprised  when  I  asked  her 
how  long  it  had  been  like  that.  It 
appeared  that  she  had,  a  few  minutes 
before,  unintentionally  sat  down  on  the 
deck  and  had  found  her  finger  that 
way  when  she  got  up.  Under  these 
circumstances  it  seemed  to  be  up  to  me 
to  do  something  about  it.  By  a  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  as  I  was 
pulling  it  about  preparatory  to  what  1 


believe  they  call  '  setting '  it,  the  thing 
suddenly  resumed  the  normal.  It  was 
lucky  that  I  had  not  actually  diagnosed 
a  compound  fracture,  as  I  had  intended. 
The  girl  seemed  quite  relieved  and 
grateful  when  she  saw  all  the  fingers 
on  her  hand  in  a  row  again.  It  was 
rather  a  nice  hand,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  I  felt  that  it  was  safe  to  let 
it  go. 

"  I  still  stick  to  my  opinion  that 
that  steerage  passenger  was  merely 
suffering  from  sea-sickness.  I  know 
enough  about  doctoring  to  be  sure  that 
appendicitis  is  only  found  in  first  or 
second-class  passengers  who  can  afford 
to  pay  biggish  fees  for  operations.  I 
am  glad  that  I  refused  to  operate  or  to 
assist  the  ship's  surgeon  in  doing  so, 
when  he  got  well.  As  it  turned  out, 
the  woman  was  still  alive  when  they 
carried  her  ashore. 

"  However,  I  freely  admit  that  it 
would  have  saved  my  colleague  trouble 
in  the  end  if  I  had  found  all  the  pieces 
of  china  which  were  imbedded  in 
another  patient's  head  before  I  applied 
bandages.  But  then  even  steerage 
passengers  ought  to  know  better  than 


212 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTKMBBB  3,  1913. 


• 


-\ 


Short-sighted  Territorial  (oblivious  of  the  rule  that  badges  of  rank  are  worn  on  the  sleeve 
in  Field  Service).  "EXCUSE  ME,  BUT  I  WANT  TO  SEE  IF  I  'VE  GOT  TO  SALUTE  you." 


to  try  to  settle  their  differences  with 
the  aid  of  water  jugs. 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  the  man  who 
said  that  he  had  lumbago  ever  found 
out  with  what  he  had  been  rubbed.  He 
was  much  better  the  next  day.  There 
must  be  some  unsuspected  curative 
property  in  brown  boot  polish.  In 
spite  of  this,  I  have  a  feeling  that  the 
surgery  is  not  the  proper  place  in 
which  to  keep  a  thing  of  that  kind. 
If  I  had  administered  a  dose  to  the 
child  with  whooping  cough,  the  result 
might  have  been  most  serious. 

"  I  did  quite  well  with  the  fever 
patients  when  I  discovered  which  of  the 
white  compounds  really  was  quinine. 

"  If  I  had  suspected  that  the  lady 
with  the  sore  throat  would  remember 
the  phrase  and  brag  about  it  all  over 
the  ship  for  the  rest  of  the  voyage,  I 
should  not  have  told  her  that  she  was 
uffering  from  '  periostitis  of  the  cardon 
shaft.'  It  was  when  the  old  gentle- 
man who  came  on  board  at  Lisbon 
heard  about  this  complaint  that  he 


began  to  take  an  interest  in  me.  He 
bored  me  considerably.  I  could  not 
see  that  it  was  any  business  of  his 
where  I  had  studied  medicine.  It  was 
certainly  careless  of  mo  to  tell  him 
at  different  times  on  the  same  day  that 
I  was  a  '  London '  man  and  a  '  Guy's  ' 
man.  I  do  not  profess  that  my  expla- 
nation was  very  convincing.  I  said 
that  I  thought  it  was  elementary  know- 
ledge that  '  Guy's  '  was  in  London. 

"Finally  he  had  the  bad  taste  to 
expose  a  nasty  motley-looking  arm  in 
the  smoking  saloon  and  to  ask  me  what 
I  thought  of  it.  To  get  rid  of  him,  I 
said  that  it  looked  to  me  as  much  like 
incipient  beri-beri  as  anything.  It  did, 
though  I  never  met  beri-beri.  This 
had  the  effect  of  clearing  the  smoking 
saloon.  It  also  seems  to  have  given 
rise  to  a  general  feeling  throughout  the 
ship  that  he  was  an  uncompanionable 
person.  It  was  only  when  the  Captain 
wanted  to  know  more  about  it  that  I 
discovered  that  he  was  a  well-known 
London  surgeon  recovering  .from  an 


attack  of  blood-poisoning.  I  tried  to 
make  out  that  I  really  knew  all  about 
it  and  that  I  was  only  pulling  his  leg, 
but  the  '  dressing '  had,  so  to  speak, 
come  off  me.  My  popularity  began  to 
wane  from  that  time,  and  a  faint- 
hearted attempt  to  get  up  a  testimonial 
for  me  met  with  a  cold  and  unsympa- 
thetic reception." 


CABINET   GOLF. 

["In  a  speech  at  Criccieth  Golf  CIul>  Mr. 
Lloyd  George  told  how  ho  had  holed  out  in 
one. 

It  happened  (ho  said)  in  the  South  of 
Prance,  fie  played  a  mashie  shot  off  the  toe 
in  a  short  hole  over  some  olive  branches  and 
could  not  find  the  ball,  which,  he  might  aay, 
was  not  an  unusual  experience  for  him. 

Later  he  and  others  hunted  for  it  to  the  loft 
and  to  the  right,  and  were  still  hunting  when 
a  young  Frenchman  with  a  sudden  stroke  of 
inspiration  suggested  that  it  might  have  rolled 
into  the  hole,  and  behold  it  was  there." 

Evening  Kelt's.] 

ANXIOUS  to  ascertain  whether  any 
other  Cabinet  Ministers  have  equalled 
the  CHANCELLOR'S  feat  Mr.  Punch  wrote 
to  them  all.  He  has  however  only  re- 
ceived the  following  replies  : — 

No,  I  cannot  say  I  have  ever  holed 
out  in  one.  I  may  add  that  I  make  it 
a  rule  not  to  take  my  "  olive  branches  " 
with  me  on  to  the  links;  they  put  me 
off  my  game. — WINSTON  CHURCHILL. 

I  once  took  thirty-four  to  the  ninth 
hole  at  Archerfield,  which  I  think  is  the 
record.  The  score  was  accounted  for 
by  the  fact  that  a  party  of  Suffragettes 
kept  kicking  my  ball  away  from  the 
hole  every  time  I  putted.  They  cer- 
tainly held  out  nothing  in  the  nature 
of  "  olive  branches."— H.  H.  ASQUITH. 


ONCE    UPON    A    TIME. 
ANOMALY. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  and 
flourished  in  a  small  city  a  worthy  man. 
He  was  devoted  to  his  native  place  ;  he 
loved  its  streets  and  stones,  its  strange 
odours,  its  smoke,  its  high  rates,  its 
indifferent  water  supply,  its  clubs  and 
cafes  and  everything  about  it.  Nothing 
could  induce  him  to  leave  it  even  for 
the  briefest  period.  In  vain  did  the 
railway  companies  spread  their  Holiday 
Arrangements  before  his  eyes;  he  re- 
turned with  the  more  satisfaction  to  his 
favourite  seat  overlooking  the  central 
square. 

And  then  one  day  the  King  of  that 
country,  who  was  full  of  capricious 
impulses,  issued  a  decree  that  no 
one  in  this  little  city  should  over 
leave  it  again,  under  pain  of  fearful 
penalties. 

And  immediately  our  friend  began 
to  be  consumed  with  a  longing  for 
travel. 


SKITBMBBB  3,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  213 


BE  WITH 


/0'.    "REALLY,  THE  INGRATITUDE  OF  SOME  PEOPLE!      HEBE'S   YOUR  NIECE    MlNNIE,   WHOM  I  ASKED  OUT   OP  PURE    KINDNESS  TO 
H  THE  CHILDREN,   COMPLAINING  THAT  SHE  IS  ALWAYS  TIRED;    AS  IP  OUB  DARLINGS  WEREN'T  ENTERTAINING  HER  ALL  DAY  LONO." 


THE    PHOTOGRAPHY  THAT 
TELLS. 

"  EVERY  PICTURE  TELLS  A  STORY." 
LAST  year  Charles  Edward  Lartington 
spent  his  holidays  with  a  friend  on  the 
Norfolk  Broads. 

By  profession  he  was- a  bank  clerk — 
teller,  in  fact,  at  the  Plumboro'  branch 
of  the  Northern  and  Southern  Bank — 
and,  being  in  receipt  of  about  one-half 
oE  the  salary  with  which  Plumboro' 
commonly  credited  him  (for  the  directors 
expected  their  officials  to  keep  their 
appearances  up  and  their  expenses 
down),  he  had  that  year,  as  on  many 
preceding  years,  been  unable  "for 
family  reasons"  to  take  the  Swiss  tour 
sketched  out  for  him  by  Mrs.  Twemlow, 
as  also  the  Norwegian  cruise  suggested 
by  Mr.  Aislabie. 

By  nature  ho  was  very  much  like 

most  of  the  other  hirers  of  boats  at 

Wroxham,  a  good  sort  of  a  fellow  in 

his  way,  neither  brilliant  nor  dull,  a 

little  weak,   a   little    dissatisfied;     in 

short,  just  one  of  the  crowd  which  the 

camera   of   publicity,   directed   at   the 

egregious,  gets   so   hopelessly  out  of 

j  focus,  but  which  forms  the  background, 

|  and,  in  the  opinion  of  each  individual 


member  of  it,  the  backbone  of  the 
country. 

So  Lartington  and  his  friend  set  out 
each  morning  for  their  leisurely  life  on 
those  slow-moving  waters  with  pro- 
visions, camera  and  pipes.  It  was  not 
a  yacht  they  had  hired,  but  a  skill ;  for 
Lartington  enjoyed  the  sculling.  His 
friend,  being  a  photographer  of  no 
mean  order,  lay  back  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat  and  kept  an  eye  open  for 
subjects.  This  attitude  of  non-inter- 
ference with  another's  pleasure  is  often 
observable  on  rivers. 

One  hot  day  they  lunched  off  pork- 
pies  and  bottled  beer  and,  in  the  after- 
noon, Lartington,  having  landed  his 
friend  for  the  purpose  of  stalking  wild- 
fowl with  the  camera,  pulled  up-stream 
alone.  It  was  with  a  certain  exultation 
at  his  sense  of  mastery  that  he  rowed. 
Here,  in  the  boat,  he  was  director  and 
worker  in  one  ideal  combination.  What 
his  mind  directed  his  body  effected,  and 
for  his  every  stroke  there  was  some- 
thing definite  to  show.  How  different 
from  the  Plumboro'  bank  !  There  they 
wanted  only  the  -workers,  the  steady, 
reliable,  trustworthy  men — men  who 
were  painstaking,  men  who  could  follow 
out  instructions  automatically,  indefi- 


nitely, interminably ;  but  talent ! — 
That  started  him  off  on  a  new  train  of 
thought,  of  thick-headed  duffers  who 
had  besn  at  school  with  him  and  had 
long  since  passed  him  in  the  race  for 
wealth.  That  was  the  bitterest  part  of 
all  and  made  him  feel  almost  anarchical. 

And  then  a  new  thought  struck  him, 
and  he  began  to  think  harder  and 
deeper,  so  that  his  friend  had  to  shout 
to  attract  his  notice. 

"Cheer  up,  old  man,"  he  Slid,  as 
Lartington  drew  into  the  bank.  "  What 
are  you  thinking  so  deeply  about? 
Stay  there  and  I  '11  take  you  before  the 
sun  goes  down." 

Now,  had  Charles  Edward  Lartington 
possessed  the  gift  of  prescience,  or  had 
had  ten  minutes  more  to  complete  his 
train  of  thought,  it  is  probable  that  he 
would  have  refused;  but,  being  just  a 
little  vain  and  just  a  little  vacillating, 
he  did  as  he  was  told. 

"  That 's  it,"  said  his  friend;  "  better 
take  your  hat  off,  though.  Now  look 
this  way." 

:;:  :;:  *  -'•  * 

The  photograph  turned  out  to  be  one 
of  those  lucky  snapshots  which  the 
professional  photographer  can  seldom 
hope  to  take.  Lartington  was  not  trying 


214 


ruNOir,  on  TIN-:  LONDON  GIIAIUVAUI. 


3.  1913. 


(o  look  like  n  bank  manager,  nor  ;i 
ivp.-rtory  actor,  nor  a  jolly  follow,  nor 
a  bookish  prig.  He  looked  just  like  Ilia 
man  everybody  in  Plumboro'  knew,  yet 
with  his  "How-will-you-take-it.-notes- 
or-gold  ?  "  air  entirely  gone.  It  showed 
him,  as  someone  said,  "  away  from  the 
counter  "  ;  a  little  preoccupied  perhaps, 
and  disguised  by  his  boating  flannels, 
but  still  Lartington.  His  friend  evi- 
dently possessed  a  good  lens,  for  the 
empty  beer  bottles  and  a  paper-bag, 
witli  "A.  Smith,  Confectioner.  Pork 
Pies  a  Speciality,"  printed  upon  it, 
were  plainly  visible. 

Everybody  seemed  pleased  with  the 
photograph,  particularly  its  author, 
who  printed  several  copies. 

Eventually  it  got  into  the  papers. 
In  fact,  it  was  there  that  I  saw  it ;  and 
it  was  the  newspaper  photograph  and 
the  explanatory  note  beneath  ifc  that 
first  made  me  aware  of  Lirtington's 
existence.  . 

Poor  fellow !  They  caught  him  at 
Liverpool  trying  to  pass  as  an  emigrant 
with  most  of  the  gold  tightly  wedged 
in  his  trunk.  It  was  a  third-class 
steward,  an  assiduous  reader  of  The 
Daily  Snapshot,  who  saw  through  bis 
disguise  and  told  the  police.  He  was 
suitably  rewarded.  His  Lordship, 
having  sentenced  Lartington  to  five 
years'  penal  servitude — for  embezzle- 
ment he  said,  but  really  for  being  photo- 
graphed— commended  the  steward's 
smartness  in  court,  and  the  bank  pre- 
sented him  with  £10  (which  made  him 
miss  four  successive  boats).  A  not 
wholly  disinterested  photograph,  which 
showed  him  clutching  his  favourite 
paper  (with  its  title  very  conspicuous), 
gladdened  the  homes  of  several  hundred 
thousands  of  Snapshot  readers ;  none 
more  so,  perhaps,  than  that  of  Charles 
Higson,  the  Stockton-on-Tees  agent  of 
a  hire-purchase  firm,  who  had  been 
looking  for  this  same  steward  (under 
another  name)  for  the  last  two  years 
in  connection  witli  several  unpaid  in- 
stalments on  a  vanished  piano. 


"Fashions  and  Fancies." 
Under  the  above  heading,  The  Globe, 
speaking  of  the  new  skirt,  says,  "  Made 
in  the  most  fragile  and  transparent  of 
materials,  it  is  worn  over  tights  worn 
close-fitting."  This  idea  of  close-fitting 
tights  is  new  to  us.  We  always  wear 
ours  quite  loose. 


"RAILWAY  TRAFFIC. 
3:2,000,000  PASSENGERS  LOST. 
SIGNIFICANT  DECREASE." 

Glasgow  Evening  Times. 
We  are  very  glad  to  hear  of  this  de- 
jrease.   The  figures  were  much  loo  high 
last  year. 


THE   GAMBLER. 

No,  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  Mar- 
coin's.  You  will  be  thankful  for  that. 

The  hotel  was  full  of  grumbling  guests. 

The  smell  of  wot  umbrellas  penetrated 

j  to   the   remotest   bodroom.     The   pro- 

I  prietor,  who  had  assured  us  that  never 

I  in  the  records  of  his  establishment  had 

|  rain  continued  for  two  consecutive  days, 

had  gone  into  dishonoured  retirement. 

People  tapped  the  barometer  and  read 

in  yesterday's  papers  the  approach  of 

disturbances  from  the  Hay  of  Biscay, 

Iceland,  the  Balkan  Peninsula,  and  the 

Women's  Social  and  Political  Union. 

Tho    golfers    had     talked    themselves 

hoarse  about  the  defects  of  the  links. 

The   fishermen,    who    only    two   days 

before — unscrupulous  fellows — had  been 

longing  for   a  steady  rain,  were  now 

grumbling  that  it  would  take  a  week  to 

get  rid  of  the  flood-water. 

The  optimist  was  arguing  in  the 
smoke-room  that  because  the  oak  had 
come  out  before  the  ash,  or  the  ash 
before  the  oak — he  wasn't  quite  sure 
which — abnormally  fine  weather  was 
about  to  set  in.  But  every  one  knew 
that  the  optimist  was  wearing  a  pair  of 
the  head  -  waiter's  trousers,  having 
drenched  all  his  own  garments.  The 
pessimist  argued  that  the  presence  or 
absence  of  icebergs  in  or  from  the 
North  Atlantic  proved  conclusively 
that  we  were  to  have  a  cold,  wet, 
miserable  summer.  We  all  hated  the 
optimist  for  his  irrational  optimism, 
and  the  pessimist  for  his  irrational 
pessimism. 

Then  a  mild  old  gentleman  incurred 
wide-spread  unpopularity  by  remarking 
that  this  weather  would  be  the  making 
of  a  lawn  he  had  just  had  laid  down. 

And  then  the  stout  man,  who  stood 
at  the  window  cheerfully  watching  the 
downpour,  turned  round  and  addressed 
the  company. 

"  You  should  have  insured  your 
holiday  weather  as  I  have  done.  As 
there  must  have  been  a  fifth  of  an  inch 
of  rain  yesterday  and  the  same  to-day 
I  get  my  expenses  for  the  week." 

"  A  fifth  of  an  inch  ?  There 's  been  a 
fifth  of  a  foot "  said  the  optimist. 

"  Of  a  yard,"  said  the  pessimist. 

The  general  feeling  was  that  whilst 
the  optimist  absurdly  underrated  the 
downpour,  the  pessimist  was  inclined 
to  exaggerate. 

"  That  being  the  case  I  "in  in  clover," 
said  the  stout  man,  rubbing  his  hands. 
"  I  get  this  week  for  nothing,  and  I  can 
take  another  week  when  the  weather  is 
more  settled.  My  forethought  has 
justified  itself.  I  paid  a  guinea  and 
I  shall  draw  ten." 

Black  hatred  filled  the  hearts  of 
everyone. 


"Do  they  tuko  your  word  for  tha 
weather?"  enquired  the  pessimist 
scornfully. 

We  all  felt  that  no  insurance 
company  could  be  so  foolish. 

"  No,  it  is  decided  by  the  meteoro- 
logical reports  in  the  papers." 

One  by  one  we  left  the  smoke-room. 
The  presence  of  that  degraded  being 
who  gambled  in  sacred  things  like 
holidays  was  as  repulsive  to  us  as 
that  of  a  Stock  Exchange  gambler  must 
be  to  Dr.  CLIFFORD.  We  stood  in  the 
hotel  porcli  watching  the  golden  rain 
(Daily  Mail  copyright)  pouring  money 
into  the  pockets  of  a  miscreant. 

"  One  comfort,"  said  the  optimist, 
"these  insurance  companies  generally 
do  you." 

We  felt  that  the  dishonesty  of  insur- 
ance companies  was  a  thing  to  be 
thankful  for. 

It  was  at  dinner-time  next  day  that 
the  London  papers  arrived.  The  opti- 
mist opened  his  paper  and  gave  ;i  cry 
of  delight. 

"  Another  anti-cyclone,"  sneered  tho 
pessimist. 

"Listen,"  said  the  optimist.  "Ili'iv's 
the  weather  report  for  Saturday  and 
Sunday  :  '  Caergwyle-on-Sea,  Saturday. 
Showery.  Rainfall  -042.  Sunday: 
Passing  showers.  Rainfall  -031.'  " 

"  It 's  a  fraud,"  said  the  stont  man, 
banging  the  table. 

Twenty  people  explained  to  him  at 
once  that  showers  were  awfully  local 
and  that  the  district  rain-gauge  might 
have  been  left  comparatively  dry.  The 
optimist  declared  that  no  doubt  the 
rain-gauge  had  sprung  a  leak.  But  the 
general  opinion  was  that  there  must 
be  no  gainsaying  the  scientific  authority 
of  rain-gauges.  The  stout  man  left  by 
the  night  train  to  dispute  the  point 
with  the  insurance  company. 

Whether  the  figures  really  were  4'2 
and  3'1  inches  of  rain  and  were  deemed 
incredible  by  the  meteorological  authori- 
ties, or  whether  the  local  council  thought 
it  more  expedient  to  modify  the  facts,  I 
know  not ;  but  we  all  felt  thankful  for 
this  providential  set-back  to  that  most 
repulsive  of  men,  a  holiday  gambler. 

Commercial  Candour. 

"These  light-to- wear  vests  are  made  of 
fleecy  material  in  different  shades  of  color, 
and  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  mention 
the  occasion  on  which  such  garments  are 
useful  to  gentlemen." — Advt.  in  "Scotsman." 

From  The  Times  Paris  correspondent  :— 
"  The  fiction  that  '  every  one  has  left  town' 
at  this  time  of  the  year  is  perhaps  less  of  a 
fiction  in  Paris  than  in  London.  My  con- 
cierge, who  went  to  visit  his  family  at  Dieppe 
the  other  day,  told  me  that  he  had  to  stands-- 
far  as  Havre  in  a  crowded  third-class  carriage." 

Silly  of  him  to  have  got  into  the  wrong 
train. 


SEI-TKMHER  3,  1913.] 


,    Oil    TIIK    LONDON    (  '!  I  A  I!  I  VA  RF. 


215 


Site.  "  HAVK  YOU  GOT  THEIR  NUMBER?" 


lie  (seeing  stars).  "THOUSANDS  AXD  THOUSANDS  1" 


THE    DOGS'    WELCOME. 

HUSH  !     We  're  not  a  pack  of  boys 
Always  bound  to  make  a  noise. 
True,  there 's  one  amongst  us,  but 

He  is  young ; 
And,  wherever  we  may  take  him, 

We  can  generally  shut 
Such  a  youngster  up  and  make  him 
Hold  his  tongue. 

Hush  !     Most  cautiously  we  go 
On  the  tippest  tip  of  toe. 
Are  the  dogs  expecting  us 

At  the  gate  ? 
Two,  who  usually  prize  us, 

Will  they  jump  and  make  a  fuss? 
Will  they  really  recognise  us 
Where  they  wait  ? 

Hush  !     I  hear  the  funny  pair 
Softly  whimpering — yes,  they're  there. 
Dane  and  Pekinese,  they  scratch 

At  the  wood, 
At  the  solid  wood  between  us ; 

Duke  attempts  to  lift  the  latch  ; 
It 's  a  month  since  they  have  seen  U3 — 
Open !    Good ! 

Down,  Duke,  down!     Enough,  enough! 
Soo-Ti  's  screaming ;  seize  his  scruff. 

Soo-Ti  's  having  fearful  fits ; 

Duke  is  tearing  us  to  bits. 


One  will  trip  us,  one  will  throw  us — 
But,  the  darlings,  don't  they  know  us ! 

Then  off  with  a  clatter  the  long  dog  leapt,  and,  oh,  what  a 

race  he  ran, 
At  the  hurricane  pace  of  a  minute  a  mile,  as  only  a  long 

dog  can. 

Into  and  out  of  the  hushes  he  pierced  like  a  shooting  star ; 
And  no  w  he  thundered  around  us,  and  now  he  was  whirling  far. 
And  the  little  dog  gazed  till  he  seemed  amazed,  and  then 

he  took  to  it  too  ; 
With  shrill  notes  flung  from  his  pert  pink  tongue  right 

after  his  friend  he  flew ; 
And  the  long  legs  lashed  and  the  short  legs  flashed  and 

scurried  like  anything, 
While  Duke  ran  round  in  a  circle  and  Soo-Ti  ran  in  a  ring. 

And  last  they  hurtled  amongst  us,  and  then  there  were 

tales  to  tell, 
For  all  of  us  seemed  to  be  scattered  and  torn,  and  all  of  us 

shrieked  and  fell ; 
And  John,  who  is  plump,  got  an  awful  bump,  and  Helen, 

who's  tall  and  thin, 
Was  shot  through  a  shrub  and  gained  in  bruise  as  much 

as  she  lost  in  skin  ; 
And  Eosamond's  frock  was  rent  in  rags,  and  tattered  in 

strips  was  Peg's, 
And  botli  of  them  suffered  the  ninepin  fate  to  the  ruin  of 

arms  and  legs ; 
And  every  face   was  licked  by  a  dog,  and  battered  was 

every  limb, 
When  Duke  ran  round  in  a  circle  and  Soo-Ti  ran  after 

him.  E-  C.  L. 


21G 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  3,  1913. 


A   MARE'S   NEST   EGG. 

"  THE  investment  itself,"  George 
continued,  "  is  a  comparatively  trilling 
one.  But  look  at  the  possible  results. 
By  purchasing  only  one  ticket,  you 
may  in  a  moment  hecomo  the  possessor 
of  no  fewer  than  sixty  thousand  pounds." 

"  But  it's  a  hundred  thousand  to  one 
that  I  don't  win  it,"  I  said. 

"  The  advantages,"  he  replied,  "  are 
not,  of  course,  limited  to  one  prize  only. 
The  others  vary  in  amount  from  fifty 
francs  to  five  thousand  pounds.  There 
are  one  thousand  prizes  of  fifty  francs 
alone.  Fifty  francs,"  he  repeated, 
making  a  hasty  pencil  calculation  on 
the  hack  of  an  envelope.  "  Why,  that 's 
two  pounds  in  our  English  money.  I 
myself  have  bought  five  tickets.  Look- 
ing at  it,  if  you  like,'  purely  as  a 
gambling  operation,"  he  added,  "  it  is 
infinitely  superior  to  betting  on  a 
horse.  Think  of  the  possibilities. 
Sixty  thousand  p — 

I  spare  you  the  rest.  He  went 
through  it  all  over  again.  So  finally  I 
gave  him  his  sovereign,  as  he  knew 
where  to  buy  the  beastly  things. 

"  You  won't  regret  it,"  he  confided  to 
me  at  parting.  So  far  from  regretting 
it,  I  thought  I  had  bought  his  silence 
cheaply  at  a  sovereign,  and,  of  course, 
dismissed  the  whole  preposterous  idea  of 
foreign  lotteries  from  my  mind  at  once. 

Somehow  or  other,  one  dismissal 
did  not  seem  to  be  sufficient.  The  very 
next  day,  when  Angela  came  to  lunch 
(Angela  is  my  property),  I  fell  into  a 
muse.  It  had  suddenly  occurred  to  me 
what  a  much  better  lunch  I  could  have 
given  Angela  if  only  the  sixty — 

"  What 's  the  matter,  dearest  ?  "  en- 
quired Angela.  "You  look  very 
worried." 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  I  replied.  "  Business 
— business."  And  I  dismissed  the  idea. 

Then  Jack  Chalmers  came  to  see  me 
in  his  new  car — one  of  those  long,  ter- 
rifying, very  latest  cars  that  arouse 
immediate  covetousness.  Now  with 
sixty  th 

I  abandoned  the  idea  of  dismissal 
and  plunged  headlong  into  my  new 
vice.  Every  moment  of  leisure,  and 
some  others,  were  occupied  for  weeks 
afterwards  with  careful  calculations. 
Judiciously  invested,  the  amount  would 
bring  in  quite  a  tidy  income.  First 
in  the  list  of  expenses  would  come 
charities  (say  a  tithe)  ;  that  would 
only  be  right,  considering  how  I  had 
acquired  the  money.  The  other  items 
•were  wonderfully  various,  including 
such  objects  as  an  emerald  necklace 
(for  Angela),  a  cabinet  of  cigars  (for 
me),  a  yacht,  a  new  hat  (for  me  again), 
and  an  estate  (roughly  speaking,  for 
Angela).  Then,  in  case  my  expecta- 


tions should  be  too  sanguine,  I  would 
momentarily  lay  aside  the  calculations 
on  the  sixty  thousand  basis,  and  sup- 
jpose  for  the  nonce  that  I  had  only 
won  the  five  thousand  pound  prize. 
That  would  curtail  the  possibilities — 
but  it  couldn't  be  helped,  I  would  have 
to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job.  The 
fresh  list  dropped  the  emerald  necklace 
and  the  estate  as  being  out  of  the 
question.  But  all  my  plans  were 
thoroughly  cut  and  dried,  and  in  readi- 
ness for  either  contingency. 

Then,  one  day,  I  actually  rang  George 
up.  I  talked  of  the  .reather,  and  then 
said  carelessly : 

"  By  the  way,  that  old  lottery  of 
yours — when  do  the  results  of  the 
wretched  thing  come  out?" 

"  One  day  more,"  he  said  ;  "  results 
out  to-morrow.  I  can  come  round  to  the 
Club  before  dinner  and  let  you  know,  if 
you  like ;  I  'm  having  a  wire  sent.  To 
my  mind,  it 's  an  excellent  investment. 
At  the  worst  you  only  stand  to  lose  the 
initial  expense  of  the  ticket — that  is 
one  pound.  On  the  other  hand,  think 
what  you  might  do  with  no  fewer  than 
sixty  th 

I  replaced  the  receiver.  I  passed  a 
trying  day  and  a  sleepless  night. 

The  following  evening  I  waited 
anxiously  at  the  club  for  George.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  how  to  receive 
him.  •!  would  be  reading  The  Globe, 
nothing  being  further  from  my  thoughts 
than  lotteries.  Then,  when  he  came 
in  and  said,  "  You  have  won  the  sixty 
thousand  pound  prize,"  I  would  get  up 
and  reply  indifferently,  "  No,  really  ? 
By  Jove,  you  were  quite  right  then, 
after  all.  Have  dinner  with  me,  old 
chap,  won't  you  ?  " 

1  settled  myself  down  in  a  chair  in 
the  smoking-room  with  The  Globe  all 
ready.  The  nervous  tension  of  the  last 
forty-eight  hours  had  been  great,  and 
in  utter  exhaustion  I  began  to  doze. 
But  my  brain  continued  to  make  cal- 
culations —  on  a  larger  scale  than 
anything  hitherto  attempted.  More 
judicious  speculation,  in  which  George's 
advice  proved  invaluable,  gradually  in- 
creased my  fortune  to  gigantic  pro- 
portions. I  became  the  owner  of  ten 
hotels,  four  theatres,  seventeen  news- 
papers, a  huge  tract  of  timbered  land 
in  Canada,  a  few  South  American 
diamond  mines,  and  a  fleet  of  yachts. 
1  was  a  multi-millionaire.  I  indulged 
in  horse-racing.  I  was  leading  in  my 
Derby  winner,  amid  shouts  from  a 
thousand  throats,  with  Angela  smiling 
rapturously  upon  me.  George,  waving 
his  hat,  had  rushed  up  through  the 
press,  and  was  shaking  my  shoulder 
and  yelling,  "  You  've  won,  you  've 
won,  you  've  won  !  " 

Then   I   woke  up,   and    my   Derby 


was    a   leather    cushion,   and 
was    actually     shaking     my 


winner 

George 

shoulder      and      repeating      excitedly, 

"  You  've  won,  You  've  won !  " 

Fortunately  I  remembered  my  pre- 
pared impromptu  in  time. 

"  No,  really  ?  "  I  observed  calmly. 
"  By  Jove,  you  were  quite  right  then, 

after  all.     Have " 

"  Yes.  You  've  won  one  of  the  small 
prizes.  Fifty  francs,  my  boy." 

"  Oh  !  Well,  have — have  an  ap&ritif 
with  me,  old  chap,  won't  you  ?  How 
much  did  you  win?" 

"  Nothing,"  he  said.  "  But  then,  of 
course,  I  haven't  your  luck.  Fifty 
francs !  Why,  that 's  two  pounds  in 
our  English  money." 

-::-          *          -::-          -::-          -::-          -::• 
My   arrangement    of    my   winnings 
ultimately  resolved  itself  into  this  :— 

£     s.   d. 

Tithe  (to  charity)         020 
2  Aperitifs        ...         010 
Placed  on  Derby 
favourite    (and 
lost)       0  17    0 


£100 


TO    A    FOOD-BEFOBMEB, 

[Eating  less,  especially  less  meat,  is  recom- 
mended as  a  sweetener  of  the  temper.] 

LADY,  I  feel  full  sure  no  lust  for  gold 
Has  set  you  where  "  five  minutes 

from  the  sea  " 
You  give  the  welcoming  smile  to  young 

and  old, 

Who  hither  come  in  search  of  jollity. 
Yours  is  a  nobler  task :  you  fain  would 

seek 
Our  moral  good  (at  thirty  bob  a  week). 

And  well  you  seek  it ;   gallantly  you 

strike 

A  blow  for  amiability  each  day, 
Carving  a  microscopic  joint  that,  like 
The  British  Army,  goes  a  long,  long 

way. 

I  praise  your  noblefight — for  such  it  is — 
With  man's  carnivorous  propensities. 

But  pause  amid  your  labour  of  reform 
And  note  the  bard's  innately  placid 

mien. 

He  has  no  tendency  to  rage  and  storm, 

He  never  figured  in  an  angry  scene. 

'Twould  be  no  falling  from  your  high 

ideal 
Did  you  give  him  a  really  decent  meal. 


Things  that  might  have  been 
expressed  differently. 

From  The  Times'  critique  of  The 
Real  Thing : — 

"If  Mr.  Aynesworth  were  a  little  bit  less 
of  a  gentleman,  if  Miss  Terry  were  a  little 
bit  less  of  a  lady — but  why  speculate  about 
impossibilities?  " 


EMBER    3,    1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


217 


LEAVES    FROM    OUR    HOLIDAY    SKETCH-BOOK. 

AN   ARISTOCRAT  OP  NORTH   BMTAIN   SEA-BATHING  FROM  HIS  ANCESTRAL  FORESHORE. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  SHALL  not  easily  forget  tho  delightful  revelation  of  a  new 
power  that  was  given  me  by  Mr.  COMPTON  MACKENZIE'S 
Carnival.  Ever  since  then  I  have  been  waiting  anxiously 
for  its  successor,  and  it  is  now  a  great  pleasure  to  find,  after 
one  uncertain  moment,  that  Sinister  Street  (SECKEB)  con- 
firms and  heightens  my  estimate  of  its  author.  The  one 
uncertain  moment  came  to  me  in  the  early  pages,  while  I 
feared  lest  Mr.  MACKENZIE  was  going  to  let  his  Balzacian 
method  run  away  with  him  ;  but  this  was  only  before  the 
charm  of  the  subject  had  taken  hold  of  me;  afterwards  I  had  no 
more  complaints.  There  are  indeed  aspects  of  this  book  that 
I  should  find  it  difficult  to  overpraise;  its  marvellously 
minute  observation,  for  one,  and  its  humour,  and  above  all 
its  haunting  beauty  both  of  ideas  and  words.  These  gifts 
are  brought  to  tho  telling  of  something  that  has  not,  I 
think,  been  told  before,  or  at  least  not  in  this  fashion — the 
education  of  a  London  schoolboy,  so  different  from  the 
cloistered  existence  of  his  contemporaries  elsewhere. 
Mu'Iiarl  Fane  is  a  figure  to  love,  because  he  is  of  the  very 
small  company  of  boys  in  books  who  are  entirely  human, 
lie  grows  before  our  eyes,  as  with  an  almost  passionate 
honesty  the  author  traces  every  detail  and  influence  of  his 
development.  I  do  not  know  if  the  result  will  prove  to  be 
a  popular  novel,  and  I  do  not  care  ;  what  I  do  know  is  that 
as  a  study  of  the  education  of  character  it  is  already  a 
masterpiece  ;  and  that  I  look  forward  to  Michael's  career  at 
Oxford  (which  we  are  promised  in  January)  with  as  much 
interest  as  if  I  were  going  up  myself.  It  is  not  my  habit 
lightly  to  prophesy  fame  ;  but  after  these  two  books  I  am 
prepared  to  wager  that  Mr.  MACKENZIE'S  future  is  bound 
up  with  what  is  most  considerable  in  English  fiction. 
\Vo  shall  see. 


1  have  always  this  difficulty  when  confronted  in  book 
form  with  a  story  which  I  have  already  seen  as  a  play — that 
I  find  it  exceedingly  hard  to  believe  in  the  reality  of  those 
episodes  that  take  place,  so  to  speak,  off  the  stage.  The 
others  are  a  very  different  matter ;  there  I  have  my  own 
recollection  to  support  the  author's  statements,  especially 
in  the  case  of  a  play  so  delightfully  well  acted  as  was  this 
that  Mr.  GEORGE  BIRMINGHAM  has  now  published  as  a 
novel  under  its  original  title  of  General  John  Began 
(HODDER  AND  SrouGHTON).  For  example,  when  Mary  Ellen 
enters  in  tho  first  act — I  mean  chapter — Mr.  BIRMINGHAM 
really  need  not  have  bothered  to  tell  me  that  she  was 
adorably  pretty,  and  that  as  she  saw  the  motor-car  "  her 
beautiful  brown  eyes  opened  very  wide.  Her  mouth  opened 
slightly  and  expanded  in  a  smile.  A  long  line  of  the  black 
transferred  from  the  kitchen  kettle  to  her  cheek  reached 
from  her  ear  to  the  point  of  her  chin.  It  was  broken  as 
her  smile  broadened,  and  finally  part  of  it  was  lost  in  tho 
hollow  of  a  dimple  which  appeared."  All  this  is  quite 
firmly  fixed  in  my  delightful  memory  of  Miss  CATHLEEN 
NESBIT.  Conversely,  when  Dr.  Lucius  O'Grady  is  here 
described  as  riding  furiously  away  on  his  bicycle,  I  am  un- 
able to  banish  a  suspicion  that  it  carried  him  no  further 
than  the  wings.  Still,  I  would  not  have  you  suppose  from 
this  that  the  present  version  of  the  affair  does  not  make  a 
highly  entertaining  novel.  It  doss.  If  you  have  been  un- 
fortunate enough  not  to  meet  it  already  at  the  Apollo 
Theatre,  you  can  read  about  it  here,  and  chuckle  con- 
tinuously from  page  the  first  till  "  the  curtain  drops  "  on  the 
last.  That  these  words  are  a  quotation  seems  to  show  that 
Mr.  BIRMINGHAM  was  not  wholly  insensible  of  my  own 
difficulty.  

Valentine  was  a  young  man  who  was  not  in  himself 
especially  remarkable.   Mr.  GRANT  RICHARDS  writes  a  story 


218 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[SUI'TKMHKH    3, 


ftbout  him,  calls  it  by  the  young  mini's  nuinc  and  publishes 
it  himself;  it  is  therefore  obvious  that  lie  considers  his  hero 
of  very  considerable  importance,  and  indeed  he  spends  some 
time  in  telling  us  about  his  discovery  of  Paris,  his  bills,  his 
dinners  and  his  wines;  but,  although  he  tells  us  of  these 
tilings  pleasanllv  enough,  he  knows  quite  well  that  we've 
heard  it  all  often  before.  No,  it  is  not  Valentine  who  is 
interesting,  although  he  is  an  agreeable  fellow  and  his 
tailor's  address  it  would  be  pleasant  to  discover ;  it  is  his 
author's  conssiousness  of  the  fantastic  bizarrerie  of  London 
tbat  I  enjoy.  Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  and  Mr.  CHESTERTON 
were  once  also  aware  of  this,  but  lately  their  activities  have 


habits  of  Kissing  and  Nose-rubbing.  Well,  I  will  not 
salute  Sir  RAY  as  he  was  once,  to  his  great  embarrassment, 
saluted  by  a  foreign  confrere,  but  in  my  gratitude  for  a 
charming  volume  I  oiler  him  the  alternative  privilege  of 
rubbing  noses  with  me. 


I  am  not  the  proud  possessor  of  an  ancestral  estate,  but 
I  have  always  nattered  myself  that  I  should  feel  and  do  all 
the  right  things  if  I  were,  so  that  CONSTANCE  HOLMK  has 
given  my  self-esteem  a  sad  fall  in  Crump  Folk  Going  Home 
(MILLS  AND  BOON).  To  the  de  Lymhsay  family,  who  be- 
longed to  Westmorland,  and  who'e  ramifications  and  re- 


been  in  other  directions,  so  it  is  delightful  to  have  Mr.  lations  recall  some  Highland  clan  in  the  days  of  Boxxit; 
G i! ANT  RICHARDS  building  us  enormous  palaces  in  Leicester  |  PRINCE  CHARLIE,  the  estate  of  Crump  was  scarcely  less 
Square,  palaces  with  thousands  of  flats  and  kitchens  and  ;  than  a  fetish.  To  walk  across  the  park  resolved  itself 
shops,  but  palaces  that  the  architects'  miscalculation  of  the  |  almost  into  an  act  of  worship,  and  whatever  form  of 
exact  amount  that  is  made  by  twice  two  may  send  toppling  <  harakiri  seemed  good  to  any  member  of  the  sept  would 
at  any  moment  to  the  ground.  There  is  also  that  colossal :  cheerfully  have  been  performed  for  the  sake  of  the  land, 
moment  when  Valentine  loses  ten  thousand  and  seventy !  The  heroine,  a  distant  cousin,  daughter  of  a  long  line  of 


pounds  because  the 
letter  N  turns  up  on 
tho  tape  instead  of  the 
letter  R ;  that  is  a  really 
thrilling  chapter.  In 
short,  Mr.  GRANT 
RICHARDS,  having  been 
for  so  long  a  publisher, 
believes  in  the  Cinema- 
tograph Novel  and  en- 
joys Valentine's  ex- 
ternal adventures  more 
than  his  internal  ones. 
For  myself,  I  agree 
with  him  that  they 
are,  at  any  rate  in 
Valentine's  case,  consi- 
derably more  inter- 
esting. 


..UNRECORDED  ACTS  OF  KINDNESS. 
HANNIBAL  ENCOURAGES  A  Tram  F.LEPHAXT  DURING  HIS  PASSAGE  OP  THE  ALPS. 


As  I  sit  reading  Sir 
RAY  LVNKKSTER'S  new 
series  of  Science  from  an 
Easy-chair  (ADLAHD)  I 
am  very  glad  to  be 
able  to  picture  him  in  an  attitude  so  conducive  to  a 
sense  of  well-being ;  but  I  am  still  more  glad  that  the  style 
of  his  instruction  pormits  his  readers  also  to  assume  the 
same  comfortable  posture ;  for  easy  writing  does  not  always 
mean  easy  reading.  I  cannot  say — since  1  have  never 
caught  him  in  the  flagrant  act  of  composition — whether 
the  Professor,  with  his  writing-pad  on  his  knees,  was  in  a 
position  to  reach,  without  rising,  a  considerable  library  of 
books  of  reference.  If  not,  then  I  confess  myself  over- 
whelmed by  the  versatility  of  his  erudition.  His  topics 
range  from  Glaciers  to  Sea -squirts;  from  "Fatherless 
Frogs  "  to  "  Pre-historic  Petticoats ;  "  from  New  Guinea 
Pygmies  to  the  Galloping  Horse  in  Art ;  from  the  Origin 
of  the  Soul  to  the  Extinction  of  Turtles.  Here  is  matter 
'or  all  tastes.  And  as  for  the  manner  of  it,  the  author 
writes  as  he  would  talk,  repeating  himself  if  he  wants  to, 
digressing  and  meandering  at  his  own  sweet  will,  but 
always  keeping  to  the  happy  middle  way  between  the 
preserves  of  the  pedant  and  the  hunting-grounds  of  the 
popular  writer.  And  through  it  all  runs  a  pleasant  savour 
of  what  I  hardly  dare  to  call  humaner  studies.  I  like,  too, 
lis  way  of  suggesting  that,  while  making  due  allowance  for 
my  state  of  darkness  in  relation  to  science,  he  assumes  that 
1  possess  intelligence  of  a  sort.  He  has  a  chapter  that 
treats  of  the  rudimentary  idea  that  underlies  the  cognate 


Crump  stewards,  un- 
hesitatingly promised  to 
marry  Slinkin'  Lyndc- 
say  because,  though  a 
ne'er-do-weel,  he  was 
the  heir,  and  as  a  girl 
only  thus  could  she 
serve  the  estate.  When 
lie  died  a  violent  death 
in  accordance  with  the 
family  curse  which  con- 
nected itself  with  a 
huge  cedar-tree  (pre- 
sently to  slay  the 
terrible  dowager,  Mrs. 
Lyndcsay,  in  the  throes 
of  its  uprooting)  Chris- 
tian or  Lakin'  Lynde,- 
say  won  his  cousin 
Deb's  love  for  himself 
as  well  as  for  his 
land,  so  that  after  many 
woes  all  ended  peace- 
fully, and  the  young 
couple  went  home  to 
a  distinctly  brighter  Crump,  with  curse,  cedar,  mother- 
in-law  and  misunderstanding  all  removed  at  once.  Till 
then  I  had  hardly  felt  that  Crump  could  be  called  an 
asset,  so  greatly  was  the  atmosphere  of  storm  and  glconi 
and  necessity  insisted  on  throughout,  and  so  heavy  seemed 
the  Lyndesay  yoke.  Yet  they  would  all  stop  and  admire 
the  Crump  scenery  for  hours,  or  stoop  down  (almost)  and 
kiss  the  turf  at  any  time.  It  seemed  a  preposterous  obses- 
sion of  the  soil  for  its  own  sake  apart  fio:n  most  of  the 
things  it  usually  stands  for.  Still,  Crump  was  Crump; 
there  is  no  getting  away  from  that ;  and  for  those  who  were 
born  to  Crump  the  very  name  spelled  balm.  An  ordinary 
fellow  like  myself  would  probably  have  tried  to  get  it  altered. 

"  Ho\v  THE  KING  STRUCK  AS  Aitcmusiior." 
This  was  the  terrible  headline  in  The  Liverpool  Echo  thai 
caught  our  eye.  But  his  Grace  was  no  modern  Thomas  ;'i 
Beckett;  he  was  merely  the  Archbishop  of  SYDNEY,  and  tin 
KING  "  struck  him  as  being  one  of  the  most  vigorous  anc 
alert  personalities  that  any  one  could  wish  to  meet." 

The  Boarding-House  Keeper's  Paradise. 

"  Lr.ANnunxo. — The  threatened  broak-up  in  the  weather  has  p.i 
and  the  money  was  again  beautifully  bright  and  clear." 

Jiirmingliam 


TTKMHKK  10,  1918.] 


UII,    OU   TJIK    LONDON    CIIAIU  VAUI. 


21!) 


POETS   AT    BAY. 

A  r.VMl'iiLKT  by  'Mi:  EuMi'M) 
C.T>.  on  "Tho  Future  of  English 
ry,"  lias  caused  so  much  disturb- 
ance in  tlio  best  poetic  circle's  that, 
a  mass  meeting  was  rcccMilly  called  lo 
•debate  the  great  critic's  conclusions. 
Objection  was  principally  taken  to  his 
contention  that  the  poets  of  the  future 
will  disdain  the  ordinary  forms  of 
'spec-el i  and  will  refrain  from  celebrating 
natural  objects  on  the  ground  that 
everything  that  can  be  said  about  their 
obvious  beauty  has  been  said.  "  Future 
jpoets,"  says  the  gifted  Librarian  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  "  will  seek  to  analyze 
tl\c  redness  of  the  rose  [not  "nose,"  as 
'in  un  unfortunate  misprint  j ,  and  will 
scout,  as  a  fallacious  observation,  the 
jstatement  that  the  violet  is 
blue.  All  schemes  of  art 
IK-CO  me  mechanical  and 
insipid,  and  even  their 
/(;.s  lose  their  savour. 
Ye;-.o  of  excellent  quality,  in 
this  primitive  manner,  can 
now  be  written  to  order  by 
any  smart  little  boy  in  a 
grammar-school." 

The  meeting  was  held  over 
the  Poetry  Shop  in  Devon- 
shire Street,  W.C.,  where  the 
modern  bard  may  bo  found, 
of  an  afternoon,  declaiming 
his  latest  effusions  to  admir- 
ing audiences  ;  and  the  chair 
was  taken  by  Mr.  EDDIE 
MAKSII  (by  kind  permission 
of  Mr.  WINSTON  CHUUOIULL). 
There  were  present  a  number 
of  distinguished  poets,  some 
looking  strangely  like 
jrdinary  persons,  a  large  con- 


smart  little  grammar-school  boys  would 


have    no    hand 
back  benches.) 


in    it.       (Kiot    on    the 
Kather  would  it  be  an 


affair  to  1)3  managed  by  certain  long- 


owing  to  a  largo  quid  in  his  starboard 
cheek,  said  that  ho — well,  agreed 
with  everything  that  Mr.  GOSSK  had 
sa'id.  There  was  no  doubt  whatever 
haired  friends  of  hisown.  (Tremendous  that  mere — pettiness  had  had  its  day. 
excitement.)  |  What  the  poet  of  the  future  needed 

The  chairman  then  proceeded  to  read  was  a  hard-bitten  vocabulary  drawn 
a  letter  from  Dr.  KOIIERT  BRIDCES,  from  experience  of  rough-and-ready  life, 
tin;  I'oet  Laureate,  whose  name  was  no  matter  how  squalid.  Realism  was 
received  with  supernatural  delight,  the  thing.  "  Give  your  readers 


Mr.  GOSSK,"  said  the  writer,  "is 
dearly  wrong  in  bis  suggestion  that 
ono  poet  can  be  checked  in  his  raptures 


was  his  advice  to  tlieyoung.  (Sensation.) 
Mr.  RUPERT  BROOKE  said  he  was  one 
of   the   young   guard.     His   particular 


by  the  fact  that  another  poet  has  i  line  was  emotion.  He  had  in  fact 
anticipated  him.  Any  little  grammar-  j  written  a  volume  chiefly  of  love  poems, 
school  boy,  smart  or  otherwise,  could  but  ho  was  bound  to  confess  that  his 


have  told  him  that  it  is  part  of  the 
nature  of  the  poet  to  admit  no  pre- 
decessor and  to  believe  his  discoveries 
original."  (Hear!  Hear!) 


UN!  IP*; 

miw 


A   STICKLER   FOR   PROPRIETY. 
"WAITER,  WAITKII,  CALL  THE  MANAGER.    HERE  is  A  FLY  UATHISG 

WITHOUT   A   COSTOII-:." 


interest  in  love  was  principally  the 
conviction  that  it  was  certain  to  end. 
He  defied  any  little  boy  in  a  grammar 
school  to  write  anything  that  would 
naturally  fall  into  place  in 
his,  the  speaker's,  volume. 
(Cheers.) 

A  slight  hitch  now  occur- 
red, brought  about  by  a  little 
misunderstanding  as  to 
whether  Mr.  EZRA  POUND  or 

Mr.      L  A  S  C  E  L  L  E  3      A  B  E  R  - 

citOMitiK  should  speak  first, 
which  was  settled  by  Mr. 
POUND,  who  comes  from  Ar- 
kansas, in  the  ready  manner 
of  his  country.  Mr.  AHER- 
CROMHIE'S  body  having  been 
removed,  Mr.  POUND  re- 
marked that  obviously  Mr. 
GOSSE  was  right,  since  he, 
the  speaker,  had  already 
begun  to  employ  a  jargon 
of  his  own  and  to  avoid  the 
obvious.  No  one  should 
ever  be  able  to  lay  a  "  Psalm 
of  Life "  to  his  conscience. 


(Applause.) 


tingent  of  ladies,  and,  at  the  back,  two  j  A  letter  from  Mr.  THOMAS  HAHDV  :  No  doubt  other  speakers  would  have 
rows  of  smart  little  grammar-school ,  followed*  "Mr.  GOSSK,"  he  said,  "  is  j  risen  but  for  the  circumstance  that  the 
boys.  always  industrious  and  often  ingenious,  chairman  at  this  point  received  a  cable- 

A  phonograph  on  the  table  was,  it  j  but  not  even  Commanders  of  the  Bath   gram   from   his    chief    requesting   his 
was  understood,  intended  to  convey  a ;  are  invariably  right.     Mr.  GOSSK  has   immediate     presence    at    Kiel.       The 


report  of  the  meeting  to  Mr.  GOSSK,  who 

was  week-ending  with  one  of  his  peers. 

Mr.  MAISSH,  in  his  opening  remarks, 

sud  that  he  was, he  supposed, peculiarly 


decided  that, '  the  natural  uses  of  Eng-   meeting  thus  terminated  without  any- 
lish   and    the    obvious    forms   of    our .,  thing  very  definite  having  been  arrived 


speech  will  be  driven  from  our  national 
poetry.'     That  may  he  so ;  but  for  my 


|iialified  to  take  the  chair,  since  he  was  j  part  1  believe  that  upon  the  arrival  of 
(lie  editor  of  The  Book  of  Georgian  j  a  great  post  great  and  simple  poetry 
Verse.  (Loud  applause.)  It  was  called  I  will  follow,  and  that  the  combination 
Georgian,  he  said,  because  all  the  |  of  old  -  fashioned  words  is  no  more 


poets  in  it  were  born  in  the  reign  of 
\  u  TOKIA  and  educated  in  the  reign  of 
B0WABDYIL,  and  most  of  the  poetry 
was  written  before  GEORGE  V.  came  to 
the  throne.  None,  the  less,  Georgian 
was  a  good  title,  especially  as  the  word 
had  no  eighteeenth-century  connota- 
tion. (Renewed  cheers.)  lie  had  made 
•A  close  study  of  modern  verse,  he 
continued,  and  was  satisfied  that  a 
return  to  simplicity  might  occur  at 
:  any  moment,  and  "that  when  it  did 


exhausted  than  the  combination  of  the 
notes  of  the  piano.  (Loud  enthusiasm.) 
In  my  opinion,"  the  letter  concluded, 
"  there  are  few  less  profitable  tasks 
than  the  attempt  to  forecast  the  trend 
of  the  arts,  since  a  genius  may  at  any 
moment  appear,  to  blow  conjecture  sky- 


at  except  renewed  respect  for  the  genius 
of  the  Sainte-Beuve  of  the  House  of 
Lords. 


"Tho  Countess  of  Sonficlcl,  who  received  a 
most  cordial  reception,  s;tid : — '  1  have  great 
pleasure  in  declaring  the  bazaar  open,  and  I 
wish  it  every  success  ' — (loud  laughter)." 

Aberdeen  Fi'ee  Press. 

And  they  say  Scotland  has  no  sense  of 
humour. 


The  Daily    Telegraph,  describing   a 


hL«h."     (Renewed  applause,  and  not  a  burglary  at  Datchet,  says: — 


little  self-conscious  enthusiasm  among 
the  younger  men.) 

Mr.  JOHN   MASEFIELD,  who  wore  a 
sou'-wester  and  was  imperfectly  heard 


"Some  sticky  brown  paper  was  discovered 
on  the  lawn,  but  the  visitors  succeeded  iu 
getting  awny." 

It  probably  wasn't  sticky  enough. 


VOL.    CX1.V. 


220 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  10,  1913. 


AN    OLYMPIC    CATECHISM. 

Question.  What  are  the  Olympic  Games? 

Answer.  An  athletic  festival  held  every  fourth  year  for 
the  purpose  of  reviving  the  glories  of  Greece  and  promoting 
international  friendship. 

Q.  Are  they  like  tlio  ancient  games  of  Greece  ? 

A.  Not  much. 

Q.  Have  they  promoted  international  friendship? 

A.  Not  at  all.    There  have  been  unfortunate  incidents 

Q.  We  will  not  go  into  that.  Must  wo  take  part  in  the 
Games  ? 

A.  Oh,  yes. 

Q.  Why? 

A.  Because  we  are  pledged. 

Q.  Who  pledged  us  ? 

A.  Some  one. 

Q.  Can  you  give  me  his  name  ? 

A.  No,  hut  the  GERMAN  EMPEKOB  would  bo  offended  if 
we  did  not  appear  at  Berlin. 

Q.  Has  he  said  so? 

A.  No,  but  it  wouldn't  do  to  let  the  Americans  win  every- 
thing. 

Q.  Why  not  ? 

A.  Their  methods,  you  know.  The  way  they  train  and 
shout  and  all  that.  ,  ..s 

Q.  But  don't  you  propose  to  imitate  these  methods  ? 

A.  Yes. 

Q.  Do  British  athletes  like  the  Olympic  Games  ? 

A.  No,  but  they  must  learn  to  like  them. 

Q.  Why? 

A.  Because  of  the  Americans,  you  know,  and  the  GERMAN 
EMPEROR  and  all  that. 

Q.  How  do  you  propose  to  deal  with  the  Americans  and 
the  GERMAN  EMPEROR  ? 

A.  By  collecting  £100,000. 

Q.  For  what  special  purpose  ? 

A.  To  discover,  Olympic  talent;  to  provide  champions; 
to  pay  for  talent  and  champions;  to  pay  for  trainers;  to 
make  it  easy  for  champions  to  give  up  their  business  and 
devote  themselves  to  athletics ;  to  avert  national  disaster ; 
to  restore  our  athletic  supremacy. 

Q.  Are  these  champions  to  be  amateurs  ? 
:    A.  Certainly. 

Q.  What  is  an  amateur  ? 

A.  An  amateur  is  one  whom  we  do  not  call  a  pro- 
fessional. 

Q.  But  if  other  people  call  him  a  professional  ? 

A.  That  only  shows  their  ignorance. 

Q.  What  is  a  professional  ? 

A.  A  professional  is  one  whom  we  do  not  call  an  Olympic 
amateur. 

Q.  Thank  you,  that  is  very  satisfactory.  Now  tell  me, 
please,  what  is  the  character  of  the  Olympic  Games  ?  Are 
they  a  recreation  ? 

A.  Certainly  not.  They  must  bo  made  the  business  of  a 
man's  life. 

Q.  Why? 

A.  In  order  to  avert  national  disaster. 

Q.  But  when  a  professional  makes  them  the  business  oi 
his  life? 

A,  We  refuse  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him. 

Q.  Why? 

A.  Because  he  is  a  professional.  He  has  not  got  the 
Olympic  spirit. 

Q.  How  is  the  Olympic  spirit  acquired  ? 

A.  By  taking  part  in  the  Olympic  Games ;  by  suliscribing 
to  the  Duke  of  WESTMINSTER'S  fund ;  by  devoting  oneself  to 
the  discovery  of  champions ;  by  advertising ;  by  organising 


a  boom;  by  promising  a  public  reception  to  successful 
athletes  ;  by  paying  their  expenses ;  by 

Q.  I  soo.  Then  I  suppose  Great  Britain  has  no  athletics 
at  present? 

A.  No,  none  of  the  right  sort. 

Q.  What  is  the  right  sort  ? 

A.  The  sort  that  is  inspired  with  tho  Olympic  spirit 

Q.  Does  everybody  like  tho  Olympic  spirit  ? 

A.  Yes,  everybody  who  is  anybody. 

Q.   But  if  somebody  says  ho  dislikes  it  ? 

A.  Then  he  is  a  crank. 

Q.  What  is  a  crank  ? 

A.  One  who  has  not  got  the  Olympic  spirit. 

Q.  Are  the  subscriptions  coming  in  ? 

A.  I  rcfusS  to  answer  further  questions.  R.  C.  L. 


ODE  ON  A   WEEK-END  COTTAGE.       .. 

Two  miles  from  a  town  where  the  road  runs  down 

To  an  olden  mill  and  a  buttressed  bridge, 
And  the  river  runs  wimpling,  bright  and  brown, 
By  haunts  of  dragonfly,  kingfisher,  midge, 
It  stands  on  a  bank 
And  faces  its  flowers, 
Where  the  hollyhock  towers 
And  rank  on  rank 
The  lavender  stalks  stand  single  and  straight  'gainst  the 
shine  of  the  stream  on  its  flank. 

Four  rooms  in  all,  and  a  tiny  hall, 

And  a  balcony  raised  on  the  river's  front 
With  fishlines  drying  and  steps  that  fall 

To  the  channel  beneath  where  they  tie  the  punt; 
And  a  pump,  be  sure, 

And  a  porch,  and  an  arbour 
Where  roses  harbour 
The  honey-bee's  lure, 

And  a  bucket  for  cellaret  dangled  deep  where  the  current 
runs  cold  and  pure. 

There  are  chub  and  bream  in  the  brown  mill-stream 

That  leap  with  a  swirl  at  the  well-flung  fly 
From  the  pool  where  the  white  weir  waters  cream, 
Or  close  to  the  turf-slope  lurking  lie. 
There  is  yet  more  sport 
When  put  on  our  mottle 
To  boil  the  kettle 
For  tea  of  a  sort 

(Our  milk 's  left  under  the  flowers  by  the  gate  in  a  jug  that 
is  good  for  a  quart). 

O  the  gold  of  the  days  when  a  soft  heat  haze 

Hushes  the  river  and  stills  the  trees  ! 
O  eves  more  quiet  when  blues  and  greys 
Steal  down  in  a  glamour  of  muted  ease ! 
When  night's  warm  wings 
With  peace  come  teeming, 
The  stream  slips  dreaming 
Of  ageless  things, 

And  a  chub  leaps  plashing  till  silence  again  flows  out  on 
the  widening  rings. 


"Miss  Laramore  .  .  .  interviewed  an  imposing  'Bobby'  on  tho 
subject  of  motor-buses  .  .  .  and  hurried  up  the  steep  staircase  to  the 
top  of  the  one  he  hailed  for  her.  Once  on  tho  top  she  secured  a  scat 
directly  behind  the  red-faced,  loquacious  driver  and  proceeded  to  make 
friends  with  him." — Ladies'  Home  Journal. 

The  last  time  we  hired  a  hansom  we  looked  for  a  nice  place 
beside  the  driver,  but  he  simply  wouldn't  talk. 


PUNCH.  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— SEPTEMBER  10,  1913. 


OUT    OF    COMMISSION. 

LOEDHALDANE  (back  from  his  lightning  tour).  "QUICK,    TELL    ME,    HOW    IS    ENGLAND?" 
THE  GREAT  SEAL.  "SPLENDID  1     WHY,    WE'VE    HARDLY    HAD    TIME    TO    MISS  YOU." 


&HPTBMBEE  10,  1913.J         ITNCIF,   011   TUB   LONDON   CHARIVARI.  223 


-*A-T.  *•«•»—• 


Colonel  BlastinyJiam.  "  WHY  THE CAN'T  I  PLAY  ims 

Caddie.  "You  AIN'T  GOT  THE  GOLFIX'  TEMPKBATCHE,  Siul" 


GAME?" 


1'ENNY    \VISE. 

You  sco,  there  are  two  stations : 
Blackhaven  Harbour  and  Blackhaven 
Central.  The  train  for  pjllam  starts  at 
the  first  and  passes  through  the  second. 
When  I  say  passes  through,  of  course 
I  mean  stops.  Trains  on  the  Ellain 
brunch  stop  at  all  stations  and  between 
most  of  them. 

•  As  we  arrived  at  the  Harbour  Station 
with  thirty  minutes  to  spare,  Charles 
suggested  walking  in  to  the  Central 
Station. 

"Why?  "I  asked. 

"  It  will  pass  the  time  away." 

"That  can  be  done  automatically," 
1  protested. 

"  Jt  will  be  exercise." 

"  I  'd  rather  do  some  Swedish  drill 
iu  the  refreshment  room." 
It  will  save  a  penny." 

"Charles,"  I  said,  "  my  forefathers 
occupied  the  throne  of  Scotland,  but 
you  cannot  tempt  me  thus.  When  I 
am  on  my  holidays  I  never  think  about 
anything  less  than  threepence." 

"  Come  on,"  said  Charles  illogically. 

Ha  fascinated  rno  with  a  walking- 
stick. 


I  came  on. 

But  my  worst  fears  were  realised. 
As  the  engine  flies,  it  is,  I  believe, 
half-a-mile  onward  from  Blackliaven 
Harbour  to  Blackhaven  Central.  As 
we  fled  it  might  have  been  anything 
up  to  fifty  miles,  if  Charles  had  not 
admitted  after  ten  minutes  that  he  did 
not  know  the  way.  Inquiry  only 


with  stories  of  banks  which  had  averted 
closure   by   an   odd   penny ;    with  the 
purchasing    power    of    the    penny    in 
the   sixteenth   century.     He    was  just 
looking  forward  to  the  day  on  which 
a  first-hand  copy  of  The  Times  would 
be  purchasable  for  a  penny  when  we.  j 
reached   the  Central   Station,   in   time  | 
to   see   the   Ellam    train   disappearing 


noo  Know  uie  way.  inquiry  only  \  to  see  the  Jfilttm  train  disap 
served  to  acquaint  us  with  unblissful  slowly  but  firmly  into  a  tunnel. 
truths.  In  the  first  place  there  was!  "It  is  true,"  said  Charles," 


the  river  Wurzel.  You  have  to  go 
along  the  street  by  the  Wurzel  till  you 
come  to  a  bridge.  But  it  must  be  the 
right  bridge.  In  the  second  place  there 
is  tlie  cemetery.  Somehow  I  had 
known  that  there  would  be  trouble  with 
a  cemetery.  You  have  to  walk  round 
three  sides  of  it  because  the  fourth  side 
is  the  railway,  where  one  is  prosecuted. 
I  rather  expected  a  swinging  barrel 
and  a  water-juhip,  but  apparently  the 
Corporation  hadn't  quite  finished  laying 
out  the  course. 

Charles  remained  insolently  cheerful. 
His  conversation  concerned  itself  with 
pennies,  their  origin,  history,  and  fu- 
ture; with  great  men  who  had  started 
life  with  a  penny  arduously  scraped 
together  from  weeks  of  oflico  drudgery  ; 


wasting 


that  by 

time  we  might  have  got  to 
Ellam  two  hours  sooner.  But  you 
must  not  forget  that  the  fare  from  the 
Harbour  Station  is  sevenpence,  where- 
as -  " 

There  are  moments  when  Charles 
comes  near  palling. 

I  strode  to  the  booking-office. 

"Third  single,  Ellam,  please,"  I  said 
wearily.  "  How  much  '!  " 

The  clerk  felt  for  the  ticket. 

"  Ellain,  Sir?  "  he  replied.  "  Seven- 
pence." 

"  TIIJ:I:MOMJ:TK.K    HOVERS    ABOUND    83    AKO 
PUBLIC  BEVELS  IN  ITS  RAYS." 

Vancouver  World. 

Our  own  thermometer  sets  too  early  for 
us  to  do  this. 


224 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.          [SEPTEMBER  10,  1913. 


GOLF    FOR    HEROES. 

A  HUGE,  grim  man  in  tweeds,  with 
the  jaw  of  a  gladiator,  sombre,  smould- 
ering eyes,  and  a  pair  of  crutches,  who 
was  standing  outside  the  granite-built 
clubhouse,  pointed  out  the  secretary 
with,  I  fancied,  a  boding,  rather  sinister 
look. 

"  You  have  played  so  long  upon  your 
rather  easy  local  links  that  you  seek  a 
change — something  a  little  more  trying, 
a  shade  more  difficult — and  have  heard 
that  the  Shadow  Valley  Links  have 
been  laid  out  especially  to  accommodate 
those  who  like  their  golf  made  strenu- 
ous ?  "  said  the  secretary,  a  bland, 
easy-mannered,  enthusiastic  gen- 
tleman. "  Quite  so ;  you  have 
done  well  to  come  here.  You  must 
let  me  show  you  round  the  course. 
I  am  very  proud  of  it — extremely 
proud.  Yes,  I  designed  it ;  every 
detail  of  the  laying-out  was  com- 
pleted under  my  personal  super- 
vision. I  came  to  the  conclusion 
that,  for  really  ambitious  players, 
golf  generally  was  too  safe,  sim- 
ple, dull — trivial,  in  fact.  But 
we  are  not  trivial  here.  One's 
nerves  must  be  more  or  less  in 
order  if  one  is  to  play  a  good  round 
on  the  Shadow  Valley  Links. 
But  you  will  see  for  yourself. 

"  I  think  we  need  not  waste 
much  time  over  the  first  hole ;  it 
is  comparatively  simple.  The 
bunkers  ssem  rather  formidable  ? 
Oh,  one  would  hardly  say  that — 
the  wasps'  nest  inside  each  of 
them  makes  it  a  tolerably  inter- 
esting hole,  but  hardly  formid- 
able. I  beg  your  pardon  ?  Oh, 
yes — wasps,  I  said.  Three  nests 
— one  in  each  bunker.  When  a 
ball  trickles  into  the  bunker  it 
automatically  sets  into  action — 
gentle  and  sustained  action — a 
patent  stirrer  and  poker  attached  to  the 
nest,  so  that  the  wasps  are  more  or 
less  ready  to  receive  the  player  when 
he  arrives  to  play  out.  We  use  hornets 
at  the  fourth  hole — it  is  much  more 
awkward  to  be  bunkered  there. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  longer  holes — a 
good  hole.  We  call  it  the  Great  Surprise. 
There  are  no  bunkers,  you  see.  It  is  a 
clear  fairway  from  tee  to  flag.  Easier 
than  the  fourth,  you  think?  Ah,  but 
one  has  to  keep  straight  because  of  the 
pitfalls.  The  safe  fairway  is  only  four 
yards  wide.  Either  side  of  that,  here 
and  there — dotted  about,  don't  you 
know— are  concealed  pitfalls,  with  lids 
— trapdoors — covered  with  real  grass, 
of  course.  They  work  on  the  dead-fall 
principle,  and  contain  water  or  tar — five 
water,  six  tar.  Only  two  are  staked; 
or  possibly  three.  I  really  don't  remem- 


ber at  the  moment.  Do  you  cultivate 
the  pull  at  all  ?  I  should  not  advocate 
that  shot  just  here.  The  hole  is  a 
great  favourite  with  heroic  golfers. 
Mr.  Hi'.NEY  LEACH  admires  it  so  much 
that  he  has  written  seventeen  different 
articles  about  it. 


'This   is   the   sixth, 
green  is  well  guarded. 


You   see,   the 
Yes,  they  are 


bull-terriers — four  of  them.  Fierce? 
Oh,  so-so — moderately.  It  is  possible 
to  hole  out  without  risk,  but  one  needs 
to  approach  very  accurately.  Hardly 
a  fair  test,  /  think,  because  some  men 
have  an  inborn  dislike  for  dogs.  We 
meet  that,  however.  We  provide  long 


very 
quite 


"  Now,  HORACE,  STOP  THAT  WRIGGLING  ABOUT  AND  WALK 
PROPERLY." 


steel  rakes,  so  that  a  badly  played  ball 
can  be  raked  out  of  the  bull-terrier 
zone.  One  forfeits  the  hole  in  that 
case,  naturally.  You  see  some  of  the 
finest  approaching  in  the  world  at 
this  hole.  Oh,  yes,  they  are  safely 
fastened ;  each  dog  can  only  work 
within  the  limits  of  its  string — unless 


the  string  snaps. 
Oh,  I  don't  know. 
We  have  had  no 


The  posts  flimsy? 
Do  you  think  so  ? 
complaints.  (Ah, 


Cerberus,  o'd  boy;  there  you  are. 
Down,  sir;  the  gentleman  is  not  yet 
a  member.)  Don't  mind  him ;  he  's 
a  little  petulant  to-day. 

"  Now,  this  is  really  chic,  the  twelfth. 
The  green  is  under  the  cliff,  as  you  see. 
One  positively  must  play  a  good  shot 
here ;  a  slovenly  stroke  is  sharply  pun- 
ished. Put  your  ball  anywhere  but  on 
the  green  and  an  avalanche  falls  upon 


you.  It  is  loosened  by  a  magnetic- 
hydraulic  device,  patented  by  me. 
You  sea  the  avalanche — up  there, 
straight  overhead.  Good  imitation  of 
snow,  is  it  not?  Rather  expensive, 
but  one  cannot  have  really  heroic  golf 
without  paying  for  it,  obviously.  We 
call  this  the  Excelsior  Hole.  Air.  P.  A. 
VAILE  considers  that  the  cliff  is  not 
sufficiently  under-cut  to  allow  the 
correct  amount  of  over-spin  to  the 
avalanche.  I  bogged  him  to  play  the 
hole  for  himself,  but  he  was  of  the 
opinion  that  it  was  hardly  necessary ; 
he  relied  upon  his  calculations,  ho  said. 
Personally  I  think  he  was  wrong;  we 
regularly  bag  our  two  brace  a 
month  at  this  hole. 

"  That  one  with  the  red  flag  is 
mined  in  every  direction — in  six 
places,  to  be  exact.  We  use  the 
old-fashioned  black  blasting  pow- 
der; we  find  it  slightly  more 
effective  than  gun-cotton.  It  is 
fatal  to  slice  there.  Mr.  BERNARD 
DARWIN  thinks  it  is  a 
amusing  hole.  He  wrote 
airily  about  it. 

"  But  you  must  not  imagine 
that  we  have  neglected  the  ladies. 
We  are  not  so  ungallant  as  that, 
I  hope.  Indeed,  no.  Upon  the 
tenth  and  sixteenth  greens  are  a 
number  of  small  holes  of  de- 
cidedly menacing  appearance. 
Round  about  these  are  sprinkled 
baited  mouse-traps  and  rat-traps. 
This  is  for  the  moral  effect.  If 
a  lady  makes  a  bad  putt  a  circuit 
is  completed  and  an  electric  cur- 
rent causes  a  number  of  mice  to 
pop  fiercely  in  and  out  of  the 
holes.  We  have  found  it  very 
successful.  We  use  snakes  also 
— sparingly,  curled  up  in  certain 
of  the  holes.  The  size  of  the 
hole,  of  course,  is  a  draw-back. 
One  rather  leans  to  rattlesnakes ; 
the  sudden  ringing  of  their  rattles  would 
test  the  composure  of  a  putter  admir- 
ably. Unfortunately  rattlesnakes  run 
large.  A  pity ;  but  I  am  giving  some 
thought  to  the  point,  and  hope  soon  to 
overcome  the  little  difficulty. 

"  Of  course,  the  idea  is  really  in  its 
infancy.  You  must  not  expect  too 
much  at  first.  It  is  not  easy  to  make 
golf  really  heroic,  but  we  shall  improve. 
We  welcome  suggestions,  too.  If  you 
have  an  idea  at  any  time—  "  he  spoke 
absently,  musingly,  his  eyes  fixed 
rather  vacantly  on  a  building  close  by 
which  looked  ominously  like  a  cottage 
hospital. 

"  I  think  you  have  it  all  very  com- 
plete," I  said.  "  But  there  is  one  thing, 
perhaps,  though  probably  it  is  merely 
an  oversight  on  your  part.  It  would 
be  expensive,  I  fear." 


B  10,  1913.]         PUNCH,   Oil  TIIK  LONDON  CHAWVARI. 


225 


Motorist.  "  \V~nx  DON'T  YOU  LOOK  AFIKU  THAT  CHILD?" 


Elder  Girl,  "llcl     War,  site  DON'T  BELONG  TEH 


His  face  lighted  up.  "  And  that  is  ?  " 
he  enquired. 

"An  automatic  earthquake,  or  oven 
a  pneumatic  volcano." 

He  beamed. 

".Oli,  glorious!"  lie  said;  "we 
will  have  both.  Forgive  me,  I  must 
telephone  to  our  chief  engineer  at 
once.  This  will  delight  some  of  our 
members." 

He  hurried  into  the  clubhouse. 
,   The  grim  person  with  the  crutches 
hobbled  up. 

"How  do  you.  like  the  course?"  he 
asked. 

"  Oh,  very  fine,  very  fine,"  I  said. 
"  I  am  just  going  to  get  my  clubs." 

It  was  fearfully  annoying  to  discover 
that  I  had  left  them  in  London — two 
hundred  miles  south — and,  as  I  am  not 
at  my  best  with  new  or  strange  dubs, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  come 
home  for  them.  It  was  during  the 
train  journey  that  I  strained  my  hack 
— which,  of  course,  put  golf  out  of  the 
question  for  a  long  time. 


Commercial  Candour. 

From  a  time-table  advertisement:  — 


.  . 

D  Irritability,  Indigestion,  Rheumatism 
M*»ralgia,  Hysteria,  Sic  'plr,  •,]!.•,.,,  etc." 


nmvrs   AWAY  Nervy   Symptom*. 
of   Brain  ami  Borly.'    IJKAVK.S 


THE    PRUDE'S    PROGRESS. 

OUR  Jane  till  very  lately, 

By  high  ambitions  swayed, 
Was  serious  and  stately, 

An  academic  maid. 
She  shunned  the  Russian  ballet, 

She  studied  Roman  law 
Admired  Professor  RALKIOH 

And  looked  askance  at  SHAW. 
But  now  she  dotes  on  mumming 

Her  books  away  are  hurled — • 
Jane 's  rapidly  becoming 

A  woman  of  the  world. 

Despising  frocks  and  fashion, 

She  solemnly  had  vowed 
To  shun  the  tender  passion 

And  flee  the  madding  crowd. 
Desipere  in  loco 

She  had  entirely  banned, 
And  msant  to  live  on  cocoa 

And  potted  meat,  or  canned. 
But  now  she 's  given  up  slumming, 

Her  hair  is  waved  and  curled — 
Jane  's  rapidly  becoming 

A  woman  of  the  world. 

Time  was  when  on  the  Army 
She  looked  with  deep  disdain  ; 

Her  views  were  all  school-manny, 
She  only  worshipped  brain. 

With  apathy  impartial 

She  viewed  all  sons  of  Mars, 


And  was  so  anti-martial 
As  to  despise  Jack  Tars. 

But  now  her  heart  goes  drumming 
Whene'er  a  flag  's  unfurled — 

Jane 's  rapidly  becoming 
A  woman  of  the  world. 

Jane's  sense  of  the  artistic 

Was  formerly  austere. 
The  waltz  was  too  hubristio 

For  her  fastidious  ear ; 
A  florid  cavatina 

Oppressed  her  soul  with  blight. 
While  BACH  and  PALESTRIN.V 

She  studied  with  delight. 
But  now  she's  always  strumming 

The  tunes  to  which  she's 

twirled — - 
In  short  she 's  fast  becoming 

A  woman  of  the  world. 

This  wholesale  transformation 

Her  serious  friends  deploro, 
And  yet  her  fascination 

Is  greater  than  before. 
So,  if  she  took  to  flying 

In  some  outlandish  dress, 
I  feel  there 's  no  denying 

I  'd  have  to  acquiesce. 
For  Jane 's  kept  all  things  hum- 
ming, 

Since,  totally  ungirled, 
She  started  on  becoming 

A  woman  of  the  world. 


226 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  10,  1913. 


not  believe  for  a  moment  ;  though  the 

four  different  plays.      First,  the  play 

AT  THE   PLAY. 

Censor  apparently  has  believed  so  for 

as  the  author  writes  it  and  as  he  means 

"  JOSEPH  AND  HIS  BRETHREN." 

years.     But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  do 

it  to  be.     Second,  the  play  as  the  pro- 

THE production  of  Joseph  and  his 

not  see  that  it  is  going  to  do  any  good 

ducer  imagines  the  author  means  it  to 

Brethren—  a  play  in  four  Acts  by  MOSES 

—  either  to  the  stage  or  to  the  public. 

be,  and  as,  accordingly,  he  decides  to 

and  Louis  N.  PARKER  —  marks  (I  am 

Yet  it  may  have  this  effect;  it  may 

produce    it;    possibly    a    better    play, 

told)  an  epoch    in  theatrical   history, 

send  people  to  the  Bible  to  see  how 

but    anyhow    quite    a    different    one! 

the  Bible  being  recognised  henceforward 

much  of  the  story  comes  from  Genesis 

Thirdly,  the  play  as  rehearsed  by  the 

as  fit  material  for  the  English  stage. 

and  how  much  from  Mr.  PARKER.    And 

actors,   when    each    character    is    re- 

This recognition  may  take  a  load  off 

having  read  the  story  of  JOSEPH  they 

interpreted  by  a  new  mind  ;  again,  it 

the    minds    of     actor-managers,    pro- 

may   stray    backward    or    forward    a 

may    be,  a    better    play,    but  again  a 

ducers  and  playwrights,  but  it  leaves 

little.      If   they   stray   backward   they 

different  one.     But  what,  you  ask,  is 

me   cold.     My   temperature,  however, 

may  come  to  this  verse  — 

the   fourth   p!ay?      The   fourth   play, 

being  a  matter  of  no  public  interest  I 

"  And  Jacob  served  seven  years  for 

says  Mr.  BENNETT,  is  the  play  of  the 

will  not  dwell  upon    it,    but,  instead, 

Eachel  ;  and  they  seemed  unto  him  but 

opening  night  —  the  play  in  which  for 

will  try  to  find  the  reason  for  the  en- 

a few  days,  for  the  love  he  had  to  her." 

the  first  time  an  audience  collaborates. 

thusiasm  of  the  faculty. 

Then  at  least  they  will  understand 

And   it   was   the    fourth   Adored   One 

The  story  of  Joseph  is   known  to 

the   difficulties    of   a   collaboration    in 

which  went  wrong. 

everybody.    It  is  a  simple  story  enough  ; 

which  one  author  writes  like  this  and 

This  is  simply  to  say  that  the  audi- 

and though  the  method  which  Joseph 

the  other  like  Mr.  PARKER. 

ence  was  not  in  the  right  mood  for  it. 

adopts  to  reveal  himself  to  bis  brothers 

Joseph   was    excellently    played    by 

What  was  meant  for  fantasy  was  con- 

when they  come  to  Egypt  for  corn  has 

Mr.  GEORGE  KELPH,   and    as    Jacob, 

sidered  as  comedy  and  rejected  as  mis- 

more  than  a  touch  of  the 
theatre  about  it,  yet,  told  in 
simple  Biblical  language, 
its  very  ndivetA  makes  its 
appeal.  IhestorjotZuleika 
is  known  chiefly  to  Mr. 
PARKER.  Zulcika,  having 
marked  Joseph  as  her  prey 
from  the  moment  when  she 
bought  him  for  twenty 
shillings  at  the  pit's  mouth, 
played  the  scorned  villainess 
so  thoroughly  that  twelve 
years  later  she  was  still 
plotting  to  stab  him  by 
the  hand  of  another.  Not 
unnaturally  her  husband 
Potiphar  was  there  to  over- 
bear the '  plot  (for  it  is 
unthinkable  that  so  good  a 
plot  should  not  be  overheard  by  some- 
one), and  Zuleika's  eyes  -were  put  out 
,o  the  accompaniment  of  a  thrilling 
scream  and  the  fall  of  the  curtain  on 
Act  IV.,  Scene  3. 

Very  well ;  now  call  Joseph  by  any 
other    Jewish     name — Jimnah,     say; 
magine  that  the  story  of  Jimnah  was 
also  invented  by  an, Englishman,  and 
.et  us  all  go  to  see  the  great  Eastern 
iroduction    Jimnah    and   Zuleika    in 
bur  Acts  by  Louis  N.  PARKER.     What 
would  be  the  result?      Well,  of  course, 
-he  play   would   not  have   a    chance, 
all  the  skill  of  Mr.  JOSEPH  BARKER 
scenery),  Mr.  ADOLF  SCHMID  (music), 
tfr.  PERCY  MACQUOID  (costumes),  and 
Sir  HERBERT   TREE   (overseer)    could 
iave  so  absurd  a  melodrama. 
_  So  perhaps  that  explains  the  enthu- 
iasm  of  the  profession.     Joseph  and 
its  Brethren  will  be  a  success,  but  it 
vill  be  a  success  because  it  rests  upon 
a  Biblical  story;  it  could  never  stand 
on  its  own  merits.     That  it  can  have 
ny  evil  effect  on  the  spectator,  that  it 
oukl  offend  the  most  susceptible,  I  do 


placed  farce.  It  was,  as 
I  have  said,  BARRIE'S  own 
fault  for  starting  too  well. 
He  opened  the  evening  with 
The  Will,  a  serious  comedy 
of  real  people,  finely  con- 
ceived and  finely  worked 
out.  In  this  atmosphere 
began  the  First  Act  of  The 
Adored  One,  and  it  too 
started  delightfully  on  the 
plane  of  high  comedy.  True, 
there  was  some  talk  about 
a  murderess  coining  to 
dinner,  and  some  nonsense 
about  nobody  thinking  much 
of  a  murder  nowadays,  but 
Probable^appcaranee  of  Sir  HERBERT  TBEK  if,  in  consequence  of  his  \ye  didn't  take  it  very  seri- 


'  ^ 


be 


And  then  suddenly 
Leonora  announced  that  she 
was  the  murderess;  that  she  had  pushed 
a  man  out  of  a  railway  carriage  and  killed 
him  because  he  objected  to  having  the 
window   shut — her  excuse  being  that 
her  little  girl  bad  a  cold.     And  when 
all   her   friends   had   agreed    that  the. 
excuse  was  sufficient  and  the  incident; 
itself  trivial,    there   was    a    wildly , 

don't  know  what  authority  Mr.  PARKER  '  fantastic   trial,  which  resulted  in  her 
has  for  making  Simeon  the  villain  of  acquittal. 


Sir  HERBERT  TREE  had  a  small  part 
which  gave  him  no  difficulty.  But  I 
was  most  taken  with  Jiidah  and  Simeon, 
and  particularly  Judah.  Mr.  HUBERT 
CARTER  made  the  first  scene  extra- 
ordinarily lifelike,  and  his  delivery  of 
that  fine  speech  from  the  forty-fourth 
chapter  of  Genesis  was  a  triumph. 


[in 


the  piece,  but  Mr.  H.  A.  SAINTSBURY 
gave  him  something  more  than  the 
ordinary  Adelphi  touch. 

"THE  WILL" 

AND 

"  THE  ADORED  ONE." 
I   have   now    had   twelve   hours   in 


I  have  not  tried  to  do  justice  to  the 
fun  of  the  trial  scene ;  to  the  delight- 
fully absurd  behaviour  of  judge,  counsel, 
witnesses  and  jury,  all  in  love  with 
Leonora  ;  to  Mrs.  PATRICK  CAMPBELL'S 
adorable  conduct  in  the  dock — her 
bewilderment  at  the  necessity  for  a 
trial,  and  her  repeated  "  I  just  puslied 


which  to  wonder  what  went  wrong  at  him  out;  my  little  girl  had  a  cold"; 
the  Duke  of  York's  on  the  first  night,  ;her  explanation  of  the  different  kinds 
and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  of  colds  her  children  had;  her  con- 
it  was  Sir  J.  M.  BARRIE'S  own  fault,  fidential  smiles  to  the  iurv,  and  her 

TT  __j__j-|i  -ii  .      *  >-.*'* 


He  started  too  well. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  has  been  ex- 


discussion  with  one  of  them  as  to  the 
best  soil  for  roses;  her  subjugation  of| 


plaining  lately  what  happens  to  a  play  the  warder  whom  she  made  hold  her 
between  its  conception  and  its  pro-  wool  for  her;  all  this  was  delightful, 
duction.  According  to  him  it  is  reaJy  But,  as  I  say,  the  audience  was  not 


SEPTEMBER  10,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


227 


ready  for  it.  Having  expected  real  life, 
it  was  bewildered  by  this.  True, 
Sir  J.  M.  BARBIE  tried  to  let  us  down 
gently  at  the  end  by  making  the  Judge 
toll  Leonora,  that  she  was  really  only 
a  legend — a  legend  of  the  dear  old- 
fashioned  women,  of  their  incon- 
sequence, and  of  the  adoration  men 
paid  to  it — but  it  was  then  too  late; 
the  fourth  play  had  gone  wrong. 

I  do  not  presume  to  tell  Sir  JAMES 
how  to  write  plays ;  but  as  one  of  the 
audience,  and  therefore  (according  to 
Mr.  BENNETT)  one  of  his  collaborators,  I 
would  tell  him  how  he  could  have 
helped  us  to  do  our  share  better.  He 
onco  wrote  a  joyful  little  story  about 
the  murder  of  an  editor ;  it  was  called, 
Pettigrcw's  Dream,  or  something  of  the 
sort.  I  may  have  the  name  of  the  man 
wrong,  but  1  am  right  in  saying  that  it 
was  described  as  a  dream.  Now,  if  the 
First  Act  of  The  Adored  One  remained 
as  it  is,  with  this  exception,  that,  in- 
stead of  Leonora  confessing  to  a  murder, 
there  were  merely  some  talk  of  a 
murder  which  had  happened ;  if  the 
Second  Act  were  a  dream — Rattray's 
dream  that  Leonora  had  committed  the 
murder  and  that  after  an  absurdly 
fantastic  trial  she  was  acquitted  ;  and  if, 
in  the  Third  Act  (for  one  Act  is  all  that 
is  wanted  for  the  trial)  the  parable  were 
explained,  and  the  contrast  shown  be- 
tween the  Leonora  type  of  woman  and 
the  modern  woman,  why  then  the 
collaboration  of  the  audience  would 
leave  nothing  for  regret,  and  The  Adored 
One  would  be  the  splendid  success  that 
it  ought  to  be. 

I  say  "ought  to  be,"  chiefly  because 
it  is  so  full  of  good  BARRIE,  but  partly 
because  it  is  so  full  also  of  adorable 
Mrs.  PATRICK  CAMPBELL.  M. 


OUR  INSECT  FRIENDS. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  have  been 
recently  delighted  to  read — in  the 
London  Letter  of  one  of  our  leading 
newspapers— a  statement  with  regard 
to  glow-worms  which  should  not  be 
allowed  to  escape  notice.  "  A  well- 
known  Member  of  Parliament,"  says 
the  writer,  "informed  me  some  time 
ago  that  he  was  constantly  in  the 
habit  of  using  a  number  of  these 
luminous  insects  in  his  nursery  in  place 
of  the  ordinary  night-light." 

May  I  say,  without  undue  vanity, 
that  it  is  many  years  since  I  first  be- 
gan to  make  a  study  of  the  practical 
efficiency  of  insects,  and  that  I  have 
found  them  of  use  to  me  in  a  great 
variety  of  ways  ?  I  have  myself  kept 
a  tame  glow-worm  for  some  months 
which  has  rendered  me  splendid  service 
is  a  bicycle  lamp.  It  has  proved  far 
superior  to  acetylene  in  penetrating  fog, 


"JAMES,  DO  LOOK  AT  THESE  LOBELIAS!    THEY 'BE  QUITE  PARCHED,  POOB  THINGS.    You 

SHOULD   HAVE    WATERED  THEM." 

"T" AIN'T  01  NOT  WABTEBIN'  'EM,  YE  KNOW,  MUM;    IT'S  THIS  EBE  DBOUGHT  AS  'AS 

DBIED   'EM   UP,   THAT  *S  WHAT   'TIS." 


and  it  is  only  necessary  to  attach  a 
lettuce  to  the  handle-bars  for  the  little 
object  to  settle  down  and  make  itself  at 
home. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  luminous 
insects  that  I  have  enjoyed  marked 
success.  The  wasp  is  a  valuable  ally. 
When  leaving  one's  house  locked  up 
for  the  holidays  no  form  of  burglary 
protection  is  more  effective  than  a 
wasps'  nest  attached  to  the  sash  of 
each  of  the  downstairs  windows.  A 
scorpion,  by  the  way,  may  he  used  for 
the  same  purpose,  suspended  from  the 
blind-cord  by  the  tail. 

I  am  at  present  engaged  upon  the 
education  of  a  colony  of  ants.  Ants 
are,  of  course,  not  capable  of  lifting 
really  heavy  weights,  unless  they  are 


employed  in  inconvenient  numbers,  but '_ 
I  have  found  them  admirable  for  doing , 
all  manner  of  little  odd  messages  about 
the  house,  and  they  are  always  ready 
to  bring  me  a  stamp,  an  envelope  or  a 
cigarette.   In  conclusion ,  in  my  capacity 
of    Secretary   to   the   Society   for  the 
Employment  of  Insects,  may  I  tender 
my  thanks  to  the  M.P.  in  question  for 
indirectly    bringing     this     important  • 
matter  to  the  public  notice  ? 
Yours  faithfully, 

JOHN  CLEGG 
(Hon.  Sec.  Soc.  E.I.). 


"  It  is  stated  that  the  new  building  will  be 
the  first  of  its  kind,  and  we  hope  may  remain 
so  for  an  indefinite  period." — The  Builder. 

It  will. 


228 


PUNCH,    Oil    T'JIK    CONDON    Cn/UUVARr.  [SKITKMHKU  10,  1913. 


Sliort-sigJiled  Old  Lady  (gazing  u-itJi  liorror  at  lathers). 

KOTHISG  WILL  ISDUCK   ME  TO  WEAE   ONE." 


IP  THOSE  AHE  THE  XEW  SKIRTS  WE  HEAR  so  siucn  A.BOCT, 


CHARIVARIA. 

"  AFTER   cutting    through 


has   been   praising    Scotsmen  and   re- 
questing them  to  come  in  thousands  to 
thick   Saskatchewan.      "Our     country,"    he 


baulk  of  timber,  she  buried  her  nose  in  [added,  "is  nob  nearly  broken  up  yet." 

Is  this  the  way  to  lure  a  peaceable  Scot 


the  cement  wall."  No,  this  was  .not 
Mrs.  PANKHUUST.  It  was  a  German 
submarine  which  collided  with  the 
harbour  wall  at  Heligoland. 


from  his  home  ? 


-  Mr.  WESTMORLAND,  a  motor-cyclist, 
has  climbed  Skiddaw  on  his  machine. 

It  is  announced  ..that.  Mr.  :.Kf:m|  .We  welcome  this  movement  for  bringing 
HAUDIE  is  going  to  hold  a  meeting  in  j  the  counties  of  England  more  closely 
Dublin.  Won't  someone  tell  us,  as  altogether.  Appropriately  enough,  Mr. 
change,  when  Mr.  KEIR  HARDIE  is  not  WESTMORLAND  was  accompanied  by 
going  to  hold  a  meeting '! 


Two  goldfinches,  we  are  told,  regu- 
larly visit  Totland  Bay  to  feed  their 
four  young  in  their  nest  in  the  middle 
of  a  battery.  Spies  ! 

#    :;: 

"  It  is  understood,"   says   a   fie/itcr 


Mr.  DRINKALL.    The 
glorious  possibilities. 


name  opens  up 


telegram,   "that  the  British,   Austro- 

Hungarian    and     Russian     Embassies  I  of  City  Fathers. 

have     received     instructions    to    lend 

diplomatic  support  to  the  Bulgarians 


The  Inverness  Town  Council  has 
been  talking  of  holding  a  baby-show. 
It. was  suggested  that  some  of  the 
babies  might  be  left  on  the  Council's 
hands  for  good.  Surely  this  would  be 
taking  too  literally  the  good  old  name 


to  the  British  Government  as  a  man- 
eater  and  to  the  Union  Government  as 
a  hya>na.  Mr.  CLARK,  another  town 
councillor  (who,  by  the  way,  lias  been 
arrested),  has  disagreed  with  him,  and 
has  said  that  the  Union  Government  is 
more  like  a  common  ass.  We  deprecate 
these  zoological  amenities  of  contro- 
versy. Even  the  common  »ss  has  his 
feelings. 

The  Return  to  Eden. 
"Mrs.  Combo — a  most   chic  gown  of  two 
coloured   cinnamon   fronds    cleverly   put    to- 
gether."— Times  of  Ceylon. 
Pretty,  but — you  know  what  people  are. 


during  the  negotiations  with  Turkey." 
"  Loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend  " 
seems  to  be  an  appropriate  quotation. 

The  Hon.  A.  P.'"McNAB,  the   Sas- 
katchewan Minister  of  Public  Works, 


*  * 


"  All  Bound  Idleness  "  is  the  heading 
of  a  Stock  Exchange  article  in  a  con- 
temporary. All  square  business  is  what 
we  really  want. 

H*     1* 

Mr.  WADE,  a  town  councillor  of 
Germiston,  South  Africa,  has  referred 


"The  bride,  who  was  given   away  by   her 
father,  was  trimmed  with  handsome  lace." 
Hull  Daily  Mail. 

This    is    worse     than    Mrs.    COMBB'S 
costume. . 

"At  about  12.30p.m.  today  tram  car  NV>.  13, 
driven  by  \V  D  Francis,  while  going  to  Grand- 
pass,  collided  with  a  little  urchin  at  New  Moor 
Street.  A  large  crowd  soon  gathered — chiefly 
consisting  of  Moors — and  it  was  found  that  the 
foot-board  had  struck  the  lad's  head,  fortu- 
nately only  cracking  the  head  slightly." 

Ceylon  Vbserrer. 

"Tut,  tut,  hard-boiled,"  said  the  con- 
ductor, and  rang  liis  bell. 


PUNCH.  OH  TI1K    r,ONI)()Nr   CHARIVARI.— 


10,  1913. 


THE    RIOTER'S    IDEAL. 


SEPTEHBRR  10,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


231 


Edwin.  "On,  MOTHER,  LOOK  AT  THOSE  NAUGHTY  MEN  QUARRELLING.    WHY  DON'T  THE  BIG  MAN  LET  THE  LITTLE  ONE  HAVE  IT?" 


THE    PURPLE    DRAGON. 

I  SUPPOSE  it  is  not  onco  in  two  years 
that  I  drop  into  an  auction  room,  but 
when  I  do  go  I  invariably  make  a  fool 
of  myself.  It  is  a  queer  coincidence. 
Ursula,  my  dear  wife,  is  the  sweetest- 
tempered  woman  in  the  world,  but  if 
there  is  one  thing  that  does  provoke 
her  more  than  another,  it  is  quite 
certain  to  be  the  thing  that  I  have  been 
doing,  or  leaving  undone,  when  I  return 
[rom  an  auction. 

The  other  day,  however,  I  thought 
myself  safe.  To  begin  with,  my  presence 
at  the  sale  was  partly- accidental.  No 
one  having  sent  n:e  there,  there  were 
no  commissions'  that  I  could  exceed  or 
coveted  bargains  that  I  could  let  slip — 
matters  in  which  I  had  often  been 
proved  liable  to  error.  I  had  been  away 
'rom  home  for  three  weeks,  and  having 
an  hour  to  wait  at  our  market  town 
owing  to  the  breakdown  of  the  car  that 
should  have  met  me,  I  was  strolling 
about  at  a  loose  end,  when  I  saw  the 
sale  going  on,  and  went  in.  That  I 
jhink  clearly  shows  that  for  what 
followed  I  was  not  personally  to  blame. 
Anyhow,  it  seemed  at  first  as  though  I 
were  in  luck.  I  hadn't  been  inside  the 
place  five  minutes  before  the  man  in 
shirt-sleeves  began  carting  round  some- 
thing that  caught  and  held  my  attention 


like  a  flash.  I  saw  then  that  it  must 
have  been  inspiration  that  had  sent  me 
into  the  sale-room  that  afternoon,  to 
encounter  a  treasure  for  which  I  had 
ransacked  Europe  (more  or  less)  in  vain. 
The  auctioneer  was  letting  off  some  of 
his  usual  patter  about  rare  old  Oriental 
porcelain,  but  this  didn't  concern  me. 
1  had  seen  in  an  instant  what  the  thing 
really  was — the  long-sought  fellow  to 
Uncle  Dick's  purple  dragon. 

You  can  fancy  if  1  was  excited  or  not. 
The  other  dragon,  the  mate  (if  I  may 
so  express  myself)  of  this  one,  had  been 
a  present  to  Ursula  from  her  uncle  at 
our  wedding;  and  for  years  we  had 
tried  to  find  its  companion.  The  thing 
had  at  last  begun  to  get  on  Ursula's 
nerves,  so  much  so  that  I  had  heard 
her  express  actual  distaste  for  our  lonely 
monster,  and  even  a  wish  to  destroy  it. 
But  of  course  now  it  would  be  different. 
It  appears  to  be  a  rule  about  china  that 
two  horrors  make  a  beauty ;  I  don't 
profess  to  understand  these  matters 
myself,  but  I  have  observed  this. 

So  I  began  to  bid.  One  of  the  reasons 
for  my  dislike  of  auctions  is  that  they 
make  me  nervous.  I  can  never  hear 
my  own  voice  naming  a  figure  without 
the  sensation  of  going  extremely  white 
about  the  lips.  Whether  I  do  so  really 
or  not  is  another  matter;  I  have  never 
been  able  to  see.  But  I  feel  like  it. 


Also  the  backs  of  my  hands  tingle. 
Thus  it  requires  a  considerable  exercise 
of  courage  on  my  part  to  bid  at  all. 

"  Now  then,  gentlemen,"  said  the 
auctioneer,  "  make  a  start.  For  this 
valuable  piece  of  genuine  old  Eastern 
ware.  What  offers  to  commence? 
Shall  I  say  fifteen  guineas  ?  Only  fifteen 
guineas  for  this  exceptionally  — 

"  Five,"  said  a  stout  man,  immediately 
below  the  table.  ("This,"  I  thought, 
"  is  excellent ;  I  shall  get  it  dirt 
cheap ! ") 

The  auctioneer  rewarded  him  with  a 
smile  of  encouragement.  "  Thank  you, 
Sir.  Five  guineas  I  am  bid.  Five 
guineas  for  this — I  beg  your  pardon, 
Sir,  pounds.  Five  pounds  only.  What 
improvement  on  five  pounds  ?  " 

He  looked  round  the  company,  and 
his  eye  caught  mine.  Possibly  my  lips 
moved,  but  I  am  uncertain  ;  at  all  events 
some  subtle  telepathy  seemed  to  have 
been  established  between  us.  "  Six 
pounds,"  said  the  auctioneer  (though 
how  he  knew  is  a  mystery).  "Six 
pounds  offered." 

"  Seven,"  said  the  stout  man. 

"  Eight,"  said  the  auctioneer,  after 
another  glance  at  me. 

"Ten,"  said  the  stout  man,  who  was 
apparently  a  dealer. 

"Eleven."  This  was  a  travesty  of 
my  own  voice,  raised  for  the  first  time. 


23-2 


PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVAKT.  [SEPTEMBER  10,  1913. 


Silence  followed.  The  stout  dealer  was 
sucking  a  pencil  and  meditating 
gloomily.  No  one  else  bid  anything 
at  all. 

"Come  now,  gentlemen,"  repeated 
the  auctioneer.  "  This  is  simply  giving 
it  away.  Eleven  pounds  for  one  of  the 
most  exquisite  examples  of  the  best 
psriod  of  Oriental  art.  You  '11  be  sorry 
tor  it  afterwards.  Eleven  pounds  only 
I  am  bid.  Going  at  eleven  pou — 

"Twenty,"  snapped  the  stout  man. 
But  my  blood  was  raised. 

"Twenty-five,"  I  said  quite  calmly 
and  clearly.     The  pricking  in  my  hands 
had   ceased.      Several   persons  looked 
round,  and  I  could  feel  that  they  were 
impressing,    my    features    upon    their 
memory,  perhaps   so   as  to  tell   their 
children  afterwards.     I  returned  their 
ga/e  with  the  impersonal  regard 
of  Royalty  or  people  who  open 
bazaars.  It  was  a  great  moment. 
"  Any  advance  on   twenty-five 
pounds?"  said  the  auctioneer 
but  it  was  obvious  from  the  first 
that  there  would  not  be.      The 
stout   man    bad    pocketed    his 
pencil  and  turned  away.    "  For 
the  last  time,  only  twenty-five 
pounds.     Going,  going,  gone!" 
The  hammer  fell.     I  had.  con- 
quered. 

The  price  of  victory  was  pos- 
sibly a  trifle  stiff;  but  as  it 
happened  I  bad  the  precise  sum 
in  gold  in  my  pocket.  Tims 
there  were  no  delaying  form- 
alities. The  precious  object  (a 
phrase  apt  in  more  senses  than 
one)  was  wrapped  up  and 
handed  to  me.  I  will  not 
linger  over  my  emotions  upon 
the  homeward  ride.  I  had  de- 
termined during  it  to  say 


•Of  | 


'    she    cried.      "Twenty-live 
How   simply   too   splendid! 


"Twenty-five  pounds,"  I  said, 
course  it 's  a  lot  of  money,  but " 

She  interrupted  mo  with  a  delightful 
bubble  of  excitement.  "  1  should  think 
it  was! 
pounds! 

And  for  a  thing  that  I  "d  got  to  bate 
the  very  sight  of !  When  Major  Hamble- 
ton  let  me  put  it  into  their  sale,  I  never 
thought  it  would  fetch  a  penny  more 
than  ten."  After  a  pause  she  added, 
"  I  can't  help  feeling,  dearest,  that  who- 
ever bought  it  was  rather  carried  away!  " 

"That,"  I  said  placidly  and  without 
the  quiver  of  an  eyelid,  "is  the  whole 
object  of  an  auction." 

So  the  rule  had  held  good,  after 
all.  We  received  our  cheque,  which 
amounted  to  twenty-three  pounds  odd, 
in  the  course  of  a  week ;  and  Ursula 


BROWN    BABIES. 

["Brown  Babies"  is  the  English  fur  tho 
came  of  a  certain  Indian  village1.] 

THKHK  's  a  stir  in  the  village,  a  rattle 
Of  looms  in  tho  tumble-down  huts, 
A  tramping  of  Immpty-backed  cattle' 
That  plod  through  the  dust  and  the 

ruts; 
For  it's  sev'n  o'  the  morn  and  there's 

work  to  be  done, 
But  the  tiny  brown  babies,  the  shiny 

brown  babies, 
They  wriggle  and  roll  in  the  sun. 

Above  them  the  kestrels  are  wheeling, 

Beside  them  the  buffaloes  stare, 
And  a  red-eyed  old  pi-dog  is  stealing 

As  near  as  bo  possibly  dare  ; 
They  may  wheel,  they  may  stare,  but 
•   they  know  they  must  shun 
Those   merry   brown    babies, 

those  berry-brown  babies 
That  tumble  and  turn  in  the  sun. 

The  fat  little  mynas  are  bopping, 
The  lizards  are  darting  for 

glee, 
And  a  big  blue  chameleon  's 

popping 
Round  the  trunk  of  a  tamarind 

tree ; 
There  's  a  spirit  of  joy  in  the  day 

that's  begun, 
And  the  crowing  brown 
babies,  those  knowing 
brown,  babies, 

They  twitter  and  twist  in  the 
sun. 

In  the  breezes  the  palm-trees 

are  swaying, 

A  cocoanut  falls  with  a  thud, 
By  the  creek  little  monkeys  are 

playirig 

Ridiculous  games  in  the  mud; 
nothing  about  my  purchase  to  -Ursula,  j  has  not  yet  ceased  to  marvel  at  such  :  'Tis   carnival   madness,  'tis   fairy-land 


THOUGHT    TBANSFEEENCE  ON  A  WALKING-TOUR. 
(8  JP..V. — 10  miles  from  the  nearest  inn.     It  lias  been  a  long 
day.     They  have  not  exchanged  a  word  for  the  last  hour.) 
Thf  Tired  One.  "  Ou,  I  WISH  YOU  WOULD  STOP  THIXKIXG 

ABOUT  DINNER." 


but   to   find 

install   the 

lonely  cabinet,  and  await  her  delight  at 


some   sesret  occasion   to 
new   arrival   in    the   once 


|  good  fortune.     The  net  result   of   the ' 
transaction  is  that  she  has  bad  two  new 
frocks — to  say  nothing  of  lunch  at  the 


discovering  it.  There  is  often  an  art  Savoy,  and  a  matinee— and  that  I 
in  the  actual  making  of  a  gift  that  possess  (hidden  under  the  bed  in  my 
enhances  its  value  tenfold.  |  dressing-room)  a  rare  old  Oriental  vase, 

Ursula  met  me  in  the  hall.     "  I  'm   for  which  no  reasonable  offer  will  be 
so  sorry  you  had  to  wait  for  the  car," 
she  said  sympathetically.      "If  you'd 
known,  you  might  have  looked  'in  at 
the  Hamhletons'  sale." 

I  decided  that  after  all  I  would  not 


postpone  the  pleasure.     "  As  a  matter 
of  fact,"  I  said,  "I  did." 

Ursula  looked  interested.  "How 
brave  of  you  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I 
suppose  you  didn't  happen  to  see  what 
the  purple  dragon  fetched?"  So  she 
must  have  known,  and  not  dared  in  my 
absence  to  try  for  it.  Obviously  the 
time  was  come  when  such  wifely  duty 


should  be 
careless!}-. 


rewarded.      1    leant    back 


refused. 


"People  are  asking  why  Irish  farmers  do 
not  raise  more  onions  than  they  do.  There  is 
no  country  where  hotter  onions  can  be  raised, 
and  wo  import  no  less  than  1-2,000  annually, 
at  a  ccst  of  £00,000  per  year." 

Cork  Connln  Eagle. 
£5  an  onion  is  of  course  only  the  price 


fun, 
And  it 's  thanks  to  the  babies,  the 

pranks  of  the  babies 
That  scrimmage  and  squirm  in  the  sun. 

J.  M.  S. 


Two  extracts  from  The  IrisJi  Inde- 
pendent : — 

"CHAMPION  WALL  JUMP. 
Mr.  JOHN-  M'MORRAX'S  Jons  B 4" 

"CURRENT  CRICKET. 

BEST   INDIVIDUAL  FEATS. 

Bum. 

Mn.  JOHN  M'MORBAX'S  JOHN  B 4  " 

We    are    glad    to    call    attention    to 


of  the  hot-house  variety.     An  ordinary  tne   extraordinary    versatility    of    ilr. 
young  onion  can  frequently  be  picked 
up  for  as  little  as  fifteen  shillings. 


"Girl's  nearly  new  cycle;    age  about  ten 


M'MOBHAN'S  horce. 


A  Strand  bookseller's  advertisement  : 

Misti ' :  I/-  net.     Guy  de  Maupassant's 


years." — Adrt.  in  "  Western  Daily  1'ress."       \  latest  volume  of  short  stories.' 

We  should    like   something    just   the  But  we  are  saving  up  our  money  for 

least  bit  newer.  |  the  appearance  of  BALZAC'S  new  novel. 


10,  1913.]         PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


233 


SLINGING  IT  ABOUT. 

PLAIN  WORDS  TO  POLICEMEN. 

(In  the  gentle  manner  of  Mr.  AIINOLD 

WHITE  in  "  The  Daily  Express.") 

WE  have  got  them  on  tho  run.  Their 
hair  is  on  end,  great  clammy  beads  of 
sweat  are  on  their  hrows,  and  with  the 
li<>ht  of  panic  in  their  eyes  they  are 
sprinting  for  the  horizon ;  they  are 
deeing  heforo  their  doom — the  muddied 
Ministers  who  have  torn  the  Constitu- 
tion into  shreds,  despoiled  the  Church, 
sung  psalms  while  they  wallowed  in  the 
slime  of  speculation,  insulted  the  KING, 
and  sent  up  tho  price  of  bacon. 

And  vvitli  thorn  is  the  Editor  of  The 
Dictator.  The  Editor  of  The  Dictator 
is  an  accomplished  writer,  but  he  has 
dared  to  oppose  his  faint-hearted 
counsels  to  the  clarion  call  of  tha  men 
who  wield  the  bludgeon,  and  who  exult 
fiercely  at  the  sound  of  their  horrific 
weapons  beating  the  air.  When  I  told 
him  last  week  that  his  politics  were 
pig-wash,  he  attempted  no  reply.  He 
too  has  donned  his  running-shorts  and 
is  showing  a  clean  pair  of  heels  to  the 
advancing  host.  But  the  heels  of 
Ministers  are  far  from  cloan.  They  are 
befouled  with  thick  mud.  There  is  mud 
all  over  their  traitorous  bodies,  and  they 
shall  stick  in  it  all  the  days  of  their  life. 

In  previous  articles  I  showed  how 
the  Separation  Bill,  if  passed  into  law, 
would  split  the  Army  and  the  Navy. 
This  week  we  have  to  consider  its  no 
less  cataclysmic  effect  upon  the  police 
force.  The  finest  thing  in  boots  is  a 
British  policeman,  fixed  and  rooted  in 
the  determination  to  preserve  the  peace. 
Shall  these  stout  souls  bo  ordered  to 
trample  upon  the  inalienable  rights  of 
the  Ulstermen,  to  coerce  them  into  sub- 
mitting to  govern  themselves  ?  I  do 
not  know  a  single  policeman  who  would 
not  rather  swallow  his  truncheon  than 
apply  it  to  the  heads  of  men,  women  and 
children  who  are  fighting  for  the  price- 
less heritage  bestowed  upon  them  by 
the  Act  of  Union.  In  Ulster,  they  tell 
me,  even  the  infants  are  in  arms.  And 
why  ?  Because  they  know  that  Home 
Rule  has  in  store  for  them  convulsions 
more  terrifying  than  any  of  the  natural 
ills  their  tender  flesh  is  heir  to,  and 
because  the  stench  of  the  Ministerial 
slime-pits  has  turned  their  stomachs. 
Shall  the  knee  of  the  British  policeman 
be  pressed  into  their  innocent  backs? 
Calmly  and  dispassionately  I  say  that 
the  very  thought  is  a  shrieking  outrage 
upon  all  instincts  of  decency,  and  that 
the  feet  of  any  policeman  who  for  one 
moment  harboured  it  would  be  a  dis- 
grace to  their  leather. 

The  temper  of  the  force  is  one  of  the 
most  vital  factors  to  be  reckoned  with 
in  any  consideration  of  this  stupendous 


\\  V 

.  A  </*«<!, 5   f'^p.  ,1  •>  . 


Brother.  "WHAT  DID  YOU  SAY  TO  THAT  OLD  CHAP  JUST  NOW?" 

Sister.  "I  ONLY  THANKED  HIM  FOB  PICKING  UP  MY  BAG." 

Brother.  "MY  DEAR  GIIJL,  YOU  MUST  LEARN  NOT  TO  BE  so  BEASTLY  GRATEFUL. 

NOT  DONE  NOWADAYS." 


IT'S 


subject.  What  does  Mr.  McKENNA 
know  about  the  police  he  is  supposed 
to  have  under  his  control?  He  has  a 
slight  superficial  knowledge  of  the 
manipulation  of  processions  and  the 
cost  of  helmets ;  but  of  the  soul  of  the 
police  he  knows  no  more  than  my 
aunt's  tomcat.  If  he  imagines  that 
this  patriotic  body  of  men  is  going  to 
fetoop  to  the  dirty  work  of  running  in 
Ulstermen,  the  doors  of  Colney  Hatch 
are  yawning  to  receive  him. 

There  .are  some  delicately  nurtured 
people  (such  as  the  Editor  of  The 
Dictator) — men  who  put  on  a  clean 
collar  every  morning  and  dress  for 
dinner — who  say  that  the  KING  should 
sign  the  abominable  Separation  Bill, 
and  who  would  thus  wash  their  tinniky 
hands  of  the  consequences.  The  poli- 
ticians who  would  thus  stand  calmly 
by  and  see  the  Empire  dynamited  are 
reckoning  without  the  British  police- 


man and  his  multitudinous  affinities. 
If  the  cooks  of  England  are  willing 
that  the  burly  arm  of  the  law,  which 
has  so  often  essayed  the  circle  of  their 
waists,  shall  be  laid  upon  the  shoulders 
of  the  most  loyal  of  His  Majesty's 
subjects,  then  in  Heaven's  name  let  the 
KING  sign,  and  let  the  cooks  stew  in 
their  own  juice.  But  everybody  who 
is  not  a  victim  of  the  verbal  staggers 
(like  the  Editor  of  The  Dictator)  knows 
that  the  goddesses  of  the  kitchen  will 
not  allow  this  atrocity,  and  it  is  this 
knowledge  that  makes  the  faces  of  our 
muckrake  Ministers  turn  ghastly  pale 
beneath  their  coating  of  mud. 
(And  so  on.) 

"  While  playing  in  the  roadway  at  Compton, 
Cookham,  a  Parnham  angler  states  that  he 
hooked  a  tortoise  about  Gin.  long." 

Portsmouth  Daily  Post. 

But  then  anglers  say  anything. 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SKPTEMBEB  10.  1913. 


I 


A    PERSONALITY. 

ANY  lawyer  will  elaborate  to  you,  if 
you  will  let  him,  the  root  idea  of 
companies.  When  ho  explains  that 
the  principle  is  the  creation  of  a  new 
persona,  which  is  the  company  as 
distinct  from  the  individuals  it  com- 
prises, you  will  look  very  knowing, 
murmur,  "Ah,  yes,  of  course,"  and 
wonder  privately  whether  the  speaker 
himself  sees  any  sense  in  the  words  he 
is  using.  It  is  not  till  you  come  to 
pick  a  quarrel  with  a  company  that 
you  realize  the  soundness  of  the 
lawyer's  observations  and  discover  how 
elusive  is  this  persona  of  the  company, 
and  how  little  it  has  to  do  with  the 
individual  persona  upon  whom  you 
endeavour  to  iix  the  blame. 

Our  back-to-work  train  was  already 
half-an-hour  late  at  Kxeter,  yet  there 
was  no  single  person  I  could  get  hold 
of  and  say,  "  You  've  done  this ;  what 
in  thunder  do  you  mean  by  it  ? " 
There  were  only  innumerable  porters 
and  ticket  collectors,  guards  and  a 
bookstall  boy  unanimous  upon  one 
subject,  that  nothing  would  induce  the 
train,  once  having  started,  to  stop 
again  before  it  got  to  Cheltenham. 
'•Next  stop,  Chltnm  !  "  they  repeated, 
getting  more  heated  and  determined 
about  it  every  time.  But  even  on  this 
point  they  were  wrong,  wrong  by  about 
twenty-five  full-stops  and  as  many 
commas.  They  had  reckoned  without 
the  signals,  and  signals  at  holiday  time 
do  not  believe  in  too  much  rush.  My 
earriage  happening  to  stop  opposite  a 
signal-box,  I  took  the  opportunity  to 
go  into  the  matter  with  its  occupant. 

"  You  ought,"  I  told  him,  "  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself,  carrying  on  like 
this." 

Affably  but  finally  ho  explained  that 
he  was  not  to  blame.  The  explana- 
tion was  dull  and  familiar;  I  do  not 
repeat  it. 

The  guard  walked  along  the  track  in 
order  to  join  in  our  conversation.  I 
tried  him.  "  You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself,"  I  told  him.  The  guard 
also  had  his  defence  ready  and  gave  it 
smilingly.  "As  the  engine-driver 
appears  to  be  unoccupied,"  I  continued, 
"you  might  just  ask  him  to  step  this 
ivay  and  hear  what  I  think  of  him." 

"  Old  Bill  ?  "  said  the  guard.  "  Why, 
:ie  's  as  anxious  to  get  home  to  his 
supper  as  any  of  us.  You  can't  blame 
him." 

"  Then  who  the  deuce  can  I  blame  ?  " 
[  asked. 

x=  *  *  *  * 

You  see  what  I  mean?  If  it  had 
Deen  the  other  way  on  and  the  Com- 
pany had  been  employing  me  to  do  a 
"ob  for  them  at  the  price  of  18s. 


you  may  bo  sure  that  a  definite  persona 
would  have  emerged  to  abuse  me  for 
doing  it  so  badly.  Why  then,  as  I  put 
it  to  the  inspector  at  Cheltenham 
eventually,  why  shouldn't  such  a  one 
be  put  forward  for  me  to  abuse? 

The  inspector  (having  disclaimed 
liability)  assured  me  that  the  Com- 
pany's one  object  in  existence  was  to 
give  satisfaction. 

"  Bah  !  "  said  I  (I  had  seen  the  word 
in  a  book). 

Tho  inspector  could  only  suggest 
that  at  Birmingham,  where  all  com- 
modities are  to  be  had,  including 
Railway  Magnates  in  top  hats,  I  might 
get  wiiat  I  wanted.  With  no  great 
confidence  I  waited  for  Birmingham 
and  a  top  hat.  "  Now,  Sir,"  said  I,  at 
last  having  cornered  an  overdressed 
olHcial,  "  I  trust  that  you  are  heartily 
ashamed  of  yourself." 

He  regarded  me  calmly.  "You 
refer,"  ho  suggested,  "  to  the  lateness 
of  this  train,  of  which  I  have  already 
heard  some  mention  '?  " 

"I  do  indeed,"  1  cried  bitterly. 

Ho  looked  as  one  about  to  fight,  but 
on  second  thoughts  he  seemed  to 
appreciate  the  depth  of  my  feelings 
and  to  decide  upon  another  attitude. 

"  I  can  only  say,"  he  declared,  "  that 
I  am  very,  very  sorry  about  it." 

"It  is  no  good  your  being  sorry,"  1 
sniffed.  "  I  desire  to  find  the  person 
who  is  to  blame  and  make  him  sorry." 

He  blushed;  he  appeared  very  nearly 
to  weep.  "  i,"  said  he,  "  I  am  to 
blame." 

I  was  at  first  incredulous,  but  being 
assured  on  the  point,  I  told  him  in 
what  opinion  I  held  him,  what  course 
I  proposed  to  adopt  with  regard  to 
him,  and  what  end  I  hoped  would 
overtake  him,  when,  reported,  disgraced 
and  dismissed,  he  crept  solitary  and 
broken  into  the  outer  darkness.  Jt  was 
a  five  minutes'  speech,  but  the  pleasure 
of  it  was  ample  compensation  for  the 
suffering  of  many  hours. 

Upon  being  assured  that  I  had  dealt 
with  the  subject  in  all  its  many  aspects, 
my  friendly  enemy  asked  me  if  there 
was  anything  else  he  could  do  for  me. 

"Tell  me,"  said  I  pleasantly,  for  I 
was  now,  if  exhausted,  on  good  terms 
with  the  world  again,  "how  came  you 
to  make  the  train  behave  so  badly? 
How,  I  mean,  do  you  influence  its 
movements  one  way  or  the  other  ?  " 

"  I  ?"  he  queried.     "I?" 

"  Yes,  you.  Without  prejudice,  what 
exactly  have  I  been  reprimanding  you 
for?  What  was  it  which  neither  the 
signalman,  guard,  engine-driver  nor 
inspector  could  do  to  expedite  the  train, 
but  which  you  could  have  done  but  did 
not  do ? " 

"  I  expedite  tho  train  ?  "  said  he,  at 


a  loss.  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 
trains.  My  business  is  with  passen- 
gers." 

"  But  what  are  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Tho  Responsible  Official,"  he  said. 

"  But  what  arc  you  employed  to  do  ?  " 
I  pressed. 

"To  listen,  mostly." 

"  Speaking  quite  technically,"  I  said, 
"  what  are  you  for?  " 

"To  blame,"  he  said.  "I  mean,  to 
be  blamed." 

***** 

Since  then  I  have  always  travelled 
by  this  line,  whenever  its  trains  and  I 
are  bound  for  the  same  destination;  I 
have  frequently  deviated  from  the 
straight  way,  have  even  on  occasion 
adapted  my  destination  for  the  pui -posi*. 
The  most  important  and  real  con- 
venience of  railway  travelling  is  to  have 
ail  official  ever  ready  to  accept  in 
person  a  responsibility  which  he  may 
in  fact  have  done  nothing  to  deserve, 
always  prepared  to  look  upset  and 
downcast  when  I  swear  to  him  that 
nothing  on  earth  shall  ever  induce  me 
to  be  a  passenger  on  his  line  again. 


THE  CHEATER  MAGIC. 
THE  entertainers  on  the  pier 

Are  pretty  bad,  as  pierrots  go, 
But  now  a  conjurer  is  here 

1  never  miss  a  show. 

His  tricks  are  all  as  clear  as  day 

(With  one  exception) ;  far  from  smart 

His  patter :  I  regret  to  say 
I  know  it  off  by  heart. 

So,  when  ho  takes  the  final  trump 
From  any  given  pack  of  cards, 

Some  gambler's  pulse  may  haply  jump, 
But  not  the  present  bard's  ; 

When  from  the  magic  kettle's  spout 
Free  choice  of  stimulants  is  poured 

And  thirst-tormented  people  shout 
For  drinks  they  can't  afford  ; 

When  handkerchiefs  a  hen  disclose 
Or  rabbits  from  a  topper  spring, 

I  murmur,  "  I  am  tired  of  those, 
Show  me  that  other  thing  — 

That  trick  for  which  the  audience  lend 
You  coins.     I  put  a  florin  down 

On  Monday  night,  and  at  the  end 
You  gave  me  half-a-crowri." 

"GABY  DESLYS  PUZZLED. 

SHE  DISCUSSES  WHAT  Sun  SHALL  WEAB 

WITH  TUK  DAILY  SKETCH." 

Daily  Sketch. 

Won't  The  Dailij  Sketch  be  enough? 


From  a  Madras  catalogue  : — 

"  Tho  price  of  the car,  Ks.  '2,850, 

motoring  within  the  reach  of  all." 

Lo,  the  poor  Indian  is  not  so  poor  as 

\vo  thought. 


SEPTEMBEB  10.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THK    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  235 


TO    PROTECT   THE    POOR    MOTORIST. 

IT  HAS   BEEN  SUGGESTED  THAT   ANIMALS   OS  OUB   KOADS   AT  SIGHT  SHOULD  CABEX  UGHTS. 


236 


PUNCH,    OE    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SKPTEMBBB  10,  1013. 


THE    LIFE- HISTORY    OF    A 
NOBODY. 

(Rfinci  an  essay  in  the  modern  psyclio- 
iral  novel  designed  to  appeal  to 

the.  present-day  taste.) 

BOOK  I.— HUBERT  SELECTS  A  TIE. 

HE  entered  a  shop  in  the  Burlington 
An-iido  lo  buy  a  tie.  To  be  accurate, 
lie  did  not  enter  it  so  much  as  he  was 
drawn  into  it.  He  wanted  to  buy  a 
tic,  but  he  had  not  utterly  and  finally 
decided  that  he  would  purchase  it  at 
that  particular  shop.  Indeed,  for  a 
fraction  of  a  second  he  hesitated  in  the 
very  doorway.  An  almost  sub- acid 
intuition  warned  him  that  the  whole 
current  of  his  life  might  depend  on 
the  particular  shade  of  the  tie  he 
selected. 

A  fly  buzzed.  It  was  an  ordinary 
fly,  not  different  outwardly  from  a 
million  other  flies.  Yet  the  convolu- 
tions of  its  brain  could  not  be  exactly 
like  the  convolutions  of  its  million 
fellows.  The  path  in  which  it  flew 
was  inevitably  different  from  the  path 
which  any  other  fly  would  have  taken. 
It  alighted  on  a  purple  tie.  If  the  tie 
had  not  been  of  a  soul-arresting  purple, 
it  might  have  flown  elsewhere.  Some- 
where back  in  the  aeons  of  ages  a 
Purpose  had  decided  on  this  concatena- 
tion of  circumstances. 

Hubert  followed  the  fly.  He  ex- 
amined the  tie.  He  brought  his  whole 
faculties  of  mind  to  bear  on  the 
problem.  He  held  the  silken  trifle  to 
the  light.  The  purpleness  changed 
under  the  incidence  of  the  sunlight 
from  a  challenging  militancy  to  a 
slightlyfaded  ineifectualness.  Itseemed 
to  him  as  a  Parable  of  Life.  He  would 
have  said  so  to  the  shop-assistant,  had 
not  a  flooding  intuition  warned  him 
that  this  automaton  of  the  mart  might 
misunderstand  the  inmost  significance 
of  his  thought. 

"The  very  latest  shade,"  insinuated 
the  assistant.  He  was  a  small  man,  or 
rather  youth,  with  a  moustache  which 
appeared  to  have  been  forced  beyond 
its  natural  development  and  gave  the 
suggestion  of  social  striving  doomed 
to  eventual  impotence.  He  lived  in 
Fulham.  It  was  three  miles  from  the 
Burlington  Arcade.  He  reached  his 
mart  daily  by  motor-'bus,  buying  a 
twopenny  ticket  of  an  unassertive  blue. 
Sometimes  he  took  'bus  No.  42,  and 
sometimes  'bus  No.  19.  He  had  no 
preference  in  the  matter,  for  such  was 
his  temperament.  He  cared  nothing 
for  where  the  'bus  proceeded  after  it 
had  deposited  him  at  Bond  Street — or 
rather,  eight  yards  to  the  eastwards  of 
Bond  Street  —  and  continued  on  its 
journey.  His  stunted  imagination 
could  not  follow  its  passage  down 


Eegent  Street,  through  the  pleasure- 
bustle  of  the  Strand,  through  the 
shiny-elbowed  strivings  of  Fleet  Street, 
up  the  sharp  incline  of  Ludgato  Hill, 
perfumed  with  incense  from  the  slow- 
burning  strips  of  the  street-hawkers 
....  (At  the  end  of  three  pages  the 
'bus  reaches  Bow  and  disappears  out  of 
the  story.) 

"  The  very  latest  shade,"  insinuated 
the  assistant. 

"  H'm, "said  Hubert  non-committally. 
He  searched  into  the  eyes  of  this  fellow- 
human,  groping  for  the  sympathetic 
understanding  his  soul  craved  for.  He 
tried  to  dissect  a  fellow-soul  with  the 
inadequate  lancets  of  his  vision.  He 
would  have  liked  to  discuss  that  tie 
from  the  point  of  view  of  aesthetics,  of 
ethics,  of  morals,  of  philosophy,  of 
metaphysics,  of  pragmatic  neo-Bergson- 
ism.  He  would  have  liked  to  engage 
in  a  discussion  which  could  have 
embraced  the  universe  and  the  stars 
and  the  purpose  of  creation.  Yet  he 
faltered,  and  examined  the  tie  anew. 

The  assistant  was  a  sordid  being. 
After  half-an-hour  he  fidgeted.  He 
wanted  to  sell  Hubert  a  tie,  and  that 
was  the  limit  of  his  present  ambition. 
He  could  not  realise  the  epochal 
significance  of  Hubert's  decision.  He 
lived  in  Fulham  in  a  little  semi-detached, 
two-storied  house  where  he  occupied  a 
rear  room  on  the  upper  floor.  .  .  . 
(Description  of  the  room  occupies  four 
pages  solid  without  a  paragraph.) 

"  H'm,"  repeated  Hubert  at  the  end 
of  thirty-four  minutes  of  thought. 

"  Three-and-six,"  said  the  assistant. 

It  was  an  ill-judged  observation. 
What  did  it  matter  to  Hubert  whether 
the  tie  were  three  shillings,  three-and- 
six,  or  four  shillings?  Sixpence  more 
or  less  would  not  ruin  his  finances ;  but 
a  shade  of  purple  more  or  less  might 
shatter  his  soul.  It  might  sear  his 
ego  with  an  ineffaceable  brand  of 
emotion.  True  that  he  could  not  see 
the  tie  when  it  was  knotted  into  place, 
except  by  straining  his  eyes  downwards 
over  his  3J  inch  wing  collar,  but  the 
effect  nevertheless  would  be  all  the 
more  crassly  dangerous.  It  would 
catch  his  eye  from  the  glass  of  a  shop- 
window  or  the  mirror  of  a  taxi — 
suddenly,  thunderously,  with  the  force 
of  a  planetary  collision. 

He  was  torn  with  doubts.  Another 
ten  minutes  passed.  The  assistant 
whispered  discreetly  to  a  fellow-trades- 
man at  the  rear  end  of  the  shop.  Out 
of  the  tail  of  his  eye  Hubert  caught 
the  clandestine  converse.  It  disturbed 
liiin  rudely.  He  felt  that  they  were 
mocking  at  a  momentous  decision  far 
beyond  their  dwarfed  understandings. 
How  petty  the  world  was  —  how 
ineffably  unsympathetic  1  He  felt 


hideously  alone.  A  barrier  of  glass, 
steel-strong,  separated  him  from  his 
fellow-beings.  It  had  always  been  tho 
same.  He  recalled  the  days  of  his 
cradle.  .  .  .  (Ten  pages  of  cradle- 
thoughts  follow.) 

Then  his  first  school— a  mixed  school 
of  little  boys  and  girls.  .  .  .  (Twelve 
pages.) 

fterwards  tho  public  school,  rudely 

,n.,.,4-  /i^:,-i.* • 


repellent. 


(Eighteen   pages,    in- 


cluding two  on  the  psychology  of  having 
measles.) 

The  'Varsity.  .  .  .  (Twenty-one 
pages,  with  eight  devoted  to  an  analysis 
of  his  feelings  towards  the  girl  at  the 
tobacconist's.) 

And  now  life!  Full-grown,  full- 
blooded  life,  where  a  man  struggled  and 
made  decisions  that  were  irrevocably 
vital.  Should  he  buy  that  purple  tie  ? 

The  fly,  tired  of  the  battle  of  tempera- 
ment— or  perhaps  not  caring  greatly 
for  the  outcome — had  flown  away  to 
other  fields  of  endeavour.  It  had  done 
its  work  jn  the  life-history  of  Hubert. 
It  had  come  into  touch  with  his  soul, 
and  then  moved  on  light-heartedly  to 
jostle  with  other  souls. 

A  clock  struck  eleven  ....  (Two 
pages  on  the  way  the  clock  did  it.) 

'I  Will  you  buy  the  tie,  Sir?" 
insinuated  the  assistant. 

His  crude  impatience  shattered  the 
fabric  of  the  sale  so  nearly  consum- 
mated. Hubert  roused  himself. 

"  I  think  not,"  he  replied,  and  left 
the  shop. 

(End  of  Book  I.) 


MAKESHIFTS. 

WHEN  love  arrives,  the  poet  feels 
A  passionate  desire  to  sing; 

Where  coarser  souls  neglect  their  meals, 
And  nurse,  in  silent  gloom,  the  sting, 
I  longed  to  burst 

Into  a  lyric  from  the  very  first. 

But,  somehow, didn't.   Goodness  knows 
The  theme  has  been  explored  enough; 
In  moments  too  sublime  for  prose 
I  spout  some  other  poet's  stuff, 

And  squeeze  her  hand 
(My  own  idea).     She  seems  to  under- 
stand. 


A  Paris  contemporary,  Excelsior, 
says  of  the  Isle  of  Man : — • 

"  Cetto  lie  est  diSpourvuo  d'habitants, 
d'hotels  et  de  commerce." 

Yet  the  Booming  Thou  Gavest  Me  still 
goes  on. 

"Madrid    proposes    to    utilize    tho   water 
brought  to  tho  city  by  an  old  camel  to  produce 
about  three  thousand  electric  tl  horse  power." 
Montreal  Daily  Star. 

It  was  the  last  pint  that  broke  the  poor 
old  camel's  back. 


SEPTKMHEB  10.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


237 


Site.    "HALLO  I     THERE  GOES  FATHER  !  " 


He.    "YES,   HE  TOLD   ME   HE  HAD  AN  APPOINTMENT.' 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IN  fiction— I  say  nothing  of  real  life — I  have  a  consti- 
tutional objection  to  the  importunate  wooer  who  will  not 
take  no  for  an  answer.  At  least,  if  the  object  of  his 
affections  is  as  charming  as  she  is  in  The  Secret  Citadel 
(HUTCHINSON),  the  man  must  have  a  great  deal  in  his 
favour  for  his  persistence  to  command  my  sympathy.  And 
Godfrey  Dcnne  is  not  that  sort  of  man.  He  is  selfish,  he 
is  idle,  he  has  a  very  good  opinion  of  himself,  and  a  very 
poor  one  of  the  plebeian  family  from  which  he  is  sprung ; 
he  is  ashamed  of  the  clean,  honest  soap  from  which,  without 
any  exertion  on  his  part,  his  wealth  is  derived.  Nor  am  I 
attracted  by  the  members  of  the  old  Eoman  Catholic  family 
into  which  he  aspires  to  marry,  and  the  motives  which 
induced  them  to  tolerate  his  suit.  Miss  ISABEL  C.  CLABKE 
does  her  best  to  make  him  fascinating  in  other  respects — 
he  is  good-looking  and  cultivated — and,  of  course,  neither 
the  girl  nor  her  people  could  be  expected  to  know  before- 
hand that  he  was  going  to  turn  out  the  tyrant  of  a  husband 
that  ho  proved  till  he  was  brought  to  his  bearings  and  his 
better  self  by  his  wife's  narrow  escape  from  death.  They 
objected  to  his  origin  and  his  soap,  and  particularly  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  Protestant.  And  yet  they  accepted  him, 

^  and  encouraged  the  girl  to  accept  him,  because  of  his 
wealth.  That,  no  doubt,  has  been  known  to  happen  before 

r  in  our  rough  island-story.  But  the  weakness  of  the  posi- 
tion in  this  case  is  that  the  author  is  herself  blind  to  their 
real  motive.  Everything  is  subordinated  to  her  chief  object, 
which  is  to  conduct  a  rather  poor  creature  of  a  man  to  the 
bosom  of  the  Roman  Church,  regenerated  at  last  by  the 
suffering  caused  by  his  own  selfishness.  On  the  whole, 
though  she  gives  us  a  fairly  interesting  study  of  an  un- 
happy marriage  with  a  happy  ending,  she  fails  to  make  it 
convincing. 


I  strongly  suspect  that  if  the  question  were  put  to  him 
Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  would  acknowledge  Edward  Henry 
Machin  as  his  pet  creation.  You  no  doubt  remember  this 
fascinating  character  as  the  "  card  "  of  an  earlier  volume ; 
he  reappears  now  in  The  Regent  (METHUEN)  with  all,  or 
nearly  all,  his  former  vitality,  with  the  same  fertile  resource 
and  engaging  impudence,  crowned  as  before  with  triumph. 
He  was  left,  you  may  recall,  practically  monarch  of  all  he 
surveyed  in  the  Five  Towns.  The  Regent  brings  him  to 
London  to  build  and  run  a  West-end  theatre  with  that 
name,  and  to  experience  various  entertaining  adventures  in 
the  process.  There  are  some  quite  delightful  chapters 
about  the  inception  of  this  idea ;  and  the  First  Night,  with 
its  rapturous  applause  promising  success  for  what  turns  out 
to  be  financial  failure — this  betrayed  the  man  of  theatrical 
experience  in  its  author.  Later,  I  thought  the  hero's  wit  a 
trifle  less  active  and  personal  than  of  old.  It  was  certainly 
a  tine  idea  to  snatch  victory  from  defeat  by  engaging  the 
head  of  the  Militants  to  speak  three  lines  in  the  languishing 
poetic  drama — but  somehow  I  had  looked  for  something 
even  more  startling.  However,  the  quest  of  the  saving 
suffragette  takes  Machin  on  an  amusing  dash  to  New  York 
(whero  his  experiences,  with  motors,  hotels,  and  the  like, 
seem  to  have  been  oddly  similar  to  those  of  Mr.  ARNOLD 
BENNETT  as  recorded  in  Those  United  States'),  so  I  have  no 
cause  to  complain.  An  optimistic  and  merry  volume, 
which  (as  in  a  double  sense  nothing  succeeds  like  success, 
or  is  so  jolly  to  read  about)  is  certain  of  huge  popularity, 
and  well  deserves  it. 

Miss  SOPHIE  COLE'S  appeal  is  so  essentially  not  to  men 
that  I  felt,  after  opening  Penelope's  Doors  (MILLS  AND  BOON), 
as  if  I  had  concealed  myself  in  the  heroine's  flat  and  was 
playing  the  despicable  part  of  eavesdropper  to  conversation 
that  was  not  intended  for  me.  But  when  this  embarrass- 
ment had  been  conquered  I  began  peacefully  to  onjoy  the 


PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SKI-TEMHER  10,  1913. 


optimism  ol  Penelope,  lot  although  it  has  never  been  my 
happy  fate  to  meet  such  a  determinedly  plucky  and  cheerful 
woman  (or  man)  in  the  flesh,  it  is  cheering  to  read  of  those 
who  can  never  see  the  clouds  because  of  the  rifts  in  them. 
Men  in  this  novel  do  not  amount  to  very  much,  if  wo  except 
Mr.  Tiippi/,  who  by  trade  was  a  comedian,  but  by  instinct 
seemed  to  be  a  professional  "  turner-up  "  whenever  Penelope 
wanted  him.  Another  man,  called  The  Inconnit,  was  well- 
named  as  far  as  1  was  concerned,  for  I  never  got  a  clear 
conception  of  him.  If,  however,  Miss  COLE  has  failed  a 
little  with  her  men,  she  has  succeeded  most  thoroughly  in 
drawing  the  characters  of  Penelope  and  her  nieces,  and  I 
am  glad  to  recommend  the  book  to  those  who  like  to  be 
mildly  intrigued  but  not  violently  excited. 

Captain  Corbeau's  Adventure  (HUTCHINSON)  was  of  the 


able  London  gatherings  to  which  no  one  but  unpleasant 
people  ever  seems  to  bo  invited,  arid  the  glittering  and 
artificial  Eastern  scenery  in  which  palms,  sunsets  and 
distant  music  have  so  important  a  place.  Uul,  above  and 
beyond  these  things,  Tin--  Wan  of  Ambition  (METIIUEN) 
does  make  a  real  attempt  to  grapple  with  the  psychology  of 
an  artist  who  has  in  him  a  little  genius,  a  little  Belf-coo- 
iidt'iice  and  a  little  humility,  but  not  enough  of  any  of  these 
qualities  to  drive  him  to  carve  out  his  career  for  himself. 
Mr.  UK-HENS'  hero  is  not  a  very  attractive  character  and 
his  wife  is  positively  unpleasant ;  but  the  reader,  if  he  cannot 
be  honestly  interested  in  Mr.  HICHENS'  people,  is  carried 
away  by  the  things  that  happen  to  them.  The  linal  scenes 
concerned  with  the  production  of  an  opera  in  New  York  are 
as  noisy,  as  theatrical,  as  nerve-shaking  as  though  OIK;  were 
actually  present  and  personally  involved.  I  hope  that  iu 


sort  that  begins  on  a  snowy  night  in  mediaeval  Paris,  with  his  next  novel  Mr.  UICHKXS  will,  in  addition  to  his  deft 
a  penniless  soldier  of  fortune,  a  fair  lady,  and  a  mysterious  1  technique  and  brilliant  dialogue,  give  us  some  characters 
message.  However,  the  message  was  but  'the  first  of  many  i  who  are  attractive  not  only  as  puppets  in  a  skilful  fable  but 
mysteries,  not  the  least  of  which  to  me  was  the  fact  that !  also  as  human  beings  whose  histories  are  not  limited  by  the 

I     _  i_     _  _  i • i  __    j_v  _  •' 


what  was  obviously  the 
same  story  that  I  had 
just  reid  should  appear 
in  the  advertisements  at 
the  end  of  the  book  under 
another  title.  But  to  re- 
turn to  Captain  Corbcau. 
I  could  hardly  tell  you 
(and  should  not  if  1 
could)  the  weird  and 
wild  things  that  happen 
to  him  as  a  result  of 
accepting  the  commis- 
sion of  the  pretty  serving^ 
maid  on  that  snowy 
night.  They  bring  him 
to  a  ruinous  old  chateau 
on  the  coast  of  Brittany 
(what  a  certain  Oxford 
don  of  my  acquaint- 
ance would  call  "a  most 
gloom  -  surging  place"), 
the  home  of  an  elderly 
and  evil  dame,  who  does 


FOKGOTTEN  ACTS  OP  KINDNESS. 
ALEXANDER  THE  GRKAT  PRESENTING  DIOGENES  WITH  A  NEW  RESIDENCE. 


creepy  things  with  bats  and  red-lire  in  .order  to  frighten  a 
young  and  beautiful  maiden  into  some  course  of  action  about 
which  I  am  regretfully  vague.  Indeed,  my  chief  complaint 
against  the  whole  affair  is  that  it  works  up  to  a  breathless 
but  empty  climax,  ill  which  I  found  myself  too  muddled 
to  understand  what  anybody  was  doing,  or  why.  Perhaps 
this  was  my  own  fault.  For  I  can  hardly  believe  that  those 
clever  persons,  Mrs.  HUGH  FRASER  arid  HUGH  FRASER, 
whose  craft  I  have  before  now  praised,  would  wilfully  leave 
me  in  such  obscurity.  Yet  I  read  every  word  of  the  book. 
Of  these,  by  the  way,  there  are  rather  less  than  one  expects 
of  a  novel,  but  quite  enough  to  contain  a  good  florin's 
worth  (the  net  price)  of  swashbuckling  and  mystery ; 
indeed,  somewhat  less 
advantage. 


of  the  latter  would,  have  been  an 


Mr.  HICHENS  in  his  new  book  is  concerned  with  the  eft'ect 
that  an  ambitious  wife  may  have  upon  an  unambitious 
husband.  As  is  usual  with  him  he  is  quite  frankly  occupied 
with  the  sensational  thrills  to  be  obtained  from  his  theme 
and  cares  more  for  the  excitement  of  some  situation  skilfully 
contrived  than  for  the  human  spontaneity  of  his  characters. 
He  gives  us,  of  course,  some  of  the  properties  that  he  has  used 
before,  and  I  recognise  the  mysterious  Eastern  musician 
with  his  fascinated  audience  of  European  ladies,  the  fasliion- 


necessities  of  a  plot. 

Alexander  Pn/de,  .17.  I., 
B.Sc.,  Edin.,  of  Mr. 
CROCK  KTT'K  Sandy's 
Love  'Affair  (IluTciux- 
SON),  is  a  cocksure, 
doughty  Scot  who  comes 
to  London  in  these  our 
days  to  make  his  mark. 
As  to  whether  in  so  short 
a  time  the  conliil  -nl 
Sandy  could  attain  high 
eminence  as  a  novelist 
and  also  found,  organise 
and  run  to  financial  suc- 
cess a  parcel  delivery 
business  with  motor-van 
service  1  leave  to  the  j  udg- 
mentof  workers  in  t  hose- 
two  excellent  trades.  15ut 
Sandy  is  a  droll.  Ladies 
throw  themselves  into 
ponds  for  love  of  him, 
and  he  insists  on  diving  in  and  fishing  them  out ;  strong  men 
mock  him  and  he  hurls  them  out  of  windows.  There  is 
indeed  a  general  air  of  unsubdued  accomplishment  about  the 
whole  environment  that  put  a  heavy  tax  on  my  credulity. 
I  scarcely  believed  that  little  Alice  MacComic,  a  gay  and 
pleasant  enough  young  lady,  should  easily  heat,  apparently 
playing  level,  the  champion  of  Portrush  G.G.,  and  that  too 
with  just  a  driver  and  a  cleek !  Nor  did  I  find  cither  her  or 
V.V. — Vivid  Vivienne,  the  music-hall  star  and  Sandy's  be- 
loved— quite  as  irresistible  as  alleged 2>assi»i.  Most  difficult 
of  all  to  believe  was  the  gentleness  of  Mr.  CROCKETT'S  quite 
astonishing  gentlefolk.  Indeed  I  fear  that  his  ready  skill 
has  betrayed  him  into  just  writing  the  first  things  that  came 
into  his  head.  It  must  bj  noted,  fcr  the  avoidance  of 
epidemics,  that  V.V,,  having  been  already  twice  this  season 
independently  employed  as  a  pc-t  name,  is  no  longer  available-. 

Fashions  in  Autumn  Underclothing:. 

"He  \va.-i  wourini;  ;i  neat  suit  of  dsirk  grey  over  a  smart  f.uvn  dusl 
coat." — Yorkshire  Evening  1'resa. 


From  a  testimonial  in  Golfiiuj  : — 

'  The  course  hero  is  of  a  brittle,  windy  nature. 


to  30  rounds  with  it,  and  it  is  still  in  sound  condition.' 
That's  because  he  replaced  the  divots. 


1   have  played  -J ! 


SEPTEMBER  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


2:39 


both 


CHARIVARIA. 

UPON  the  occasion  of  her  visit  to  the 
Perthshire  homo  of  Lord  LANSDOWNE, 
Her  Majesty  the  QUEEN,  it  is  said, 
greatly  admired  the  famous  hedge  there. 
To  Lord  LANSDOWNE'S  credit  he  has 
never,  in  spite  of  its  size,  sat  upon  the 
hedge.  *  + 

Lord  HALDANE'S  expression  of  opinion 
that  fifty  years  hence  the  United  States 
would    1)0    the    leading    nation 
materially  and  intellectually 
has,  wo  hear,  caused  no  little 
offence  over  there.     How- 
ever, the  fact  that  His  Lord- 
ship failed  to  notice  that  this 
desirable  consummation  had 
already  been  arrived  at  is 
attributed  to  the  shortness 
of  his  visit.  ... 

•••  ^  V 

Statistics  just  published, 
show  that  New  York  has 
1,156  buildings  of  ten  or 
more  storeys.  Of  these,  117 
have  more  than  16  storeys, 
and  9  have  more  than  30. 
America,  in  fact,  might  be 
called  the  Land  of  Tall 
Storeys.  *  * 

Mrs.  PANKHURST  is  now 
undergoing  a   rest  cure  in 
France.       We    understand ' 
that    she    prefers    this    to 
arrest  cure  in  England. 

*  * 

By  the  way,  the  author- . 
ities  at  New  York,  which 
city  Mrs.  PANKHURST  pro- 
poses to  visit,  are,  it  is 
stated,  undecided  whether 
to  treat  her  as  a  fugitive 
from  justice  or  as  an  un- 
desirable alien.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  they  will  gallantly 
allow  her  the  choice. 

*  •:• 

During  the  painters' 
strike,  we  read,  there  was  a  stoppage  of 
work  at  St.  Mary's  Hospital.  We  are  a 
little  bit  doubtful  as  to  what  this  means, 
but  presumably  patients  with  relaxed 
throats  were  unable  to  have  them  painted. 

The  imported  policemen  in  Mid- 
Cornwall  have  been  boycotted,  and 
cannot  buy  cigarettes  or  be  shaved. 
We  cannot  help  thinking  that  this  is 
foolish  policy  on  the  part  of  the  strikers. 
The  policemen  will  be  all  the  more  fit 
for  not  smoking  cigarettes,  and  tho 
lack  of  a  shave  will  make  them  more 
terrifying  in  appearance. 

Stands  Ireland  where  she  did  ?  We 
think  so.  A  resident  of  Armagh,  who 


died  tho  other  day,  made  his  will 
appointing  executors,  bnt  omitting  to 
give  any  directions  for  tho  disposal  of 
his  property.  *  ^ 

* 

Many  motor  omnibuses  are  now  being 
fitted  with  a  patent  guard  to  prevent 
mud  splashing  on  to  tho  pavements. 
This  unselfishness  is  more  than  credit- 
able to  the  company  concerned,  for  it 
will  now  be  unnecessary  for  such 
pedestrians  as  wish  to  avoid  being 
splashed  to  travel  by  omnibus. 


Suspicious  Wife.  "Now  DO  HUBBY  CP,  DEAR;    WE  MUSTN'T  LOSE 

SIGHT  OP  THE  LUGGAGE.      I  DON'T  MUCH   CARE  FOR  THE   LOOKS  OF  THAT 
MAN." 


A  Highgate  doctor  was  last  week 
robbed  of  a  number  of  valuable  silver 
articles  by  a  bogus  patient.  To  the 
fellow's  credit,  we  understand,  he  left 
untouched  several  bottles  which  were 
labelled  "  Not  to  be  taken." 
*  * 

Miss  ISABEL  VALLE,  of  St.  Louis, 
whose  engagement  to  Mr.  J.  H.  NELSON 
is  announced,  is  declared  by  Mrs.  W.  K. 
VANDERBILT  and  Mrs.  ROBERT  GOELET 
to  be  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  America. 
She  is  also  the  heiress  to  a  great 


name  of  each  station  as  the  train 
arrives,"  writes  a  correspondent,  "  why 
is  it  necessary  for  the  names  to  be 
written  up  in  the  stations  ?  "  This  is 
done,  wo  imagine,  to  enable  passengers 
to  ascertain  what  the  guard  has  shouted 
out.  *  * 

* 

Mr.  McAooo,  chief  magistrate  of 
New  York,  has  issued  warrants  em- 
powering the  police  to  close  any  theatre 
where  disorderly  resorts  are  shown  on 
the  stage.  The  proprietors  of  the 
theatres  declare  that  this  is 
a  case  of  McAdoo  about 
nothing.  *  * 


Noticing  the  words  "  Tho 
Insect  Virgil  "  at  the  head- 
ing of  a  review  of  a  book 
by  JEAN  HENBI  FABRE, 
Smith  minor,  who  was 
struggling  with  the  dSneid, 
remarked  that  the  epithet 

was  not  a  bit  too  strong. 

*  * 
* 

Mr.  RAYMOND  ARTHDR 
PRICE  PIERPOINT  has 
founded  a  Courtesy  League, 
the  members  of  which  will 
bow  to  statues.  The  mem- 
bers may  like  to  know  that 
there  is  one  statue  at  least 
in  London  which  will  return 
the  compliment.  We  refer 
to  the  gentleman  on  horse- 
back at  Holborn  Circus  who 
is  raising  his  hat. 

*  * 

A  white  Leghorn  hen  of 
Harleston,  Norfolk,  The 
Express  informs  its  readers, 
has  laid  two  eggs  of  re- 
markable size  —  one  weigh- 
ing 4J  ozs.,  and  the  second 
3f  ozs.  The  enterprise  of  our 
newspapers  would  seem  to 
know  no  limit.  The  Express, 
we  believe,  has  a  special 
correspondent  in  every  fowl- 
run  in  the  country. 


fortune, 
frame. 


A  picture,  in  fact,  in  a  gold 


*.* 


"  Seeing    that    the    guards    on    the 
Central  London  Railway  announce  the 


The  following  cautions  appear  in 
the  railway  carriages  on  the  South 
Eastern  and  Chatham  line : — 

"DO  NOT  LEAN  OUT  OF  THE  WINDOW." 
"  NE  FAS  BE  PENCHEB  AU  DEHOB8." 

The  GERMAN  AMBASSADOR  is  said  to 
have  drawn  attention  to  the  fact  that 
nobody  seems  to  care  what  happens  to 

the  heads  of  his  countrymen. 
*  * 

£ 

Threa  mantelpieces  are  reported  to 
have  been  stolen  from  a  house  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  which  is  in  the 
hands  of  builders  a-nd  decorators,  and 
in  future  the  men  will  be  searched 
before  leaving. 


210 


PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    ('I!  AIM  Y.\I!f.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  liil.l 


AN    EDITOR    TO    HIS    LOCUM 

(on  rccciriiKj,  ilitriiuj  his  holidays,  a  request  for  a  copy 
of  verses). 

YOUR  welcome  favour  (so  to  speak) 

That  finds  me  set  by  Breton  seas— 
Where  softest  airs  caress  my  cheek, 

Tanned  to  the  tone  of  coffee  lees — 
Proves,  by  its  quaint  request  for  rhyme, 

The  need  of  more  imagination 
To  picture  how  I  pass  my  time 

In  far,  far  better  occupation. 

O'er  sea-blown  sward  and  sandy  dune, 

Fretted  by  dimpling  sapphire  bays, 
Through  sweltering  morns  and  eves  that  swoon 

I  Hog  the  little  ball  all  ways  ; 
And  by  the  cliff's  elusive  ledge, 

Taking  a  line  of  desperate  valour, 
I  skirt  the  perilous  beetling  edge 

Where  Bogie  turns  a  deathly  pallor. 

At  noon  I  bathe  with  all  my  might 

In  University  costume ; 
Down  tbe  long  lane  of  sunset  light 

This  manly  process  I  resume; 
And,  when  the  day-hours  have  to  die, 

Night  brings,  amid  her  languorous  balm,  a 
Sea-breath  to  lull  me  where  I  lie 

At  our  "  H6tel  des  Panoramas." 

And  you,  my  colleague  (meaning  well 

And  flatteringly,  I  like  to  think), 
Urge  me  to  snap  the  golden  spell 

And  plunge  myself  in  seas  of  ink ! 
Ehymes  are  the  sport  of  sad-eyed  care, 

Akin  to  that  of  picking  oakum! 
How  can  I  rhyme  in  this  boon  air? 

Surely  you  see  I  can't,  dear  Locum '? 

ADAM,  from  bowers  of  Eden  banned 

According  to  the  primal  curse, 
And  doomed  to  sweat  of  brow  and  hand, 

May  have  assuaged  his  woe  with  verse ; 
But,  while  he  lodged  in  Paradise, 

If  asked  for  rhymes,  he'd  not  have  writ  any, 
Not  on  the  Serpent's  own  advice; 

Neither  will  I,  on  yours,  in  Brittany.      O.  S. 


A  CENSORIAL  SYMPOSIUM. 

THE  action  of  the  libraries  in  laying  a  semi-ban  on  certain 
novels  has  drawn  down  on  us  a  flood  of  criticism,  comment 
and  suggestion.  We  print  the  following  letters  as  perhaps 
the  most  representative  of  enlightened  public  opinion  : — 

ANGEL  FACES. 

DEAR  SIB, — The  notion  of  banning  books  on  the  score  of 
morality  is  absurd  and  a  sure  sign  of  reaction.  It  is 
impossible  to  define  morality.  Besides  we  have  the  positive 
assurance  of  all  the  authors  who  have  been  banned  that 
their  motives  are  moral  and  that  they  are  entirely  on  the 
side  of  the  angels,  and  obviously  they  know  best.  Their 
photographs  prove  it.  Anything  more  cherubic  than  tbe 
countenance  of  Mr.  Max  Abel,  one  of  the  victims,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  imagine.  A  man  with  such  a  name  and 
face  is  no  more  capable  of  leading  people  astray  than 
Mr.  NOKMAN  ANGELL  or 

Yours  faithfully,         SHORN AED  BURR. 


MEAT  v.  THE  MILLENNIUM. 

DKAK  Sin, — Of  all  tho  hooks  which  injure  the  community 
none  an;  so  dangerous  as  those  which  inculcate  unsound 
dietetic  principles.  The  greatest  offender  of  all  was  Dn  K  i  :\s, 
who  habitually  glorified  indulgence  in  butcher's  meat,  plum 
pudding,  turkey  and  spirits.  Under  an  enlightened  Govern- 
ment his  works  would  bo  all  placed  on  an  .Index  K.cpurija- 
loriiis  and  a  ban  laid  on  all  writers  who  failed,  in  their 
allusions  to  food,  to  insist  on  advocating  a  fruitarian  or 
vegetarian  regimen.  To  attack  novelists  on  the  score  of 
morals  is  to  get  hold  of  the  wrong  end  of  the  stick.  When 
men  give  up  meat  the  Millennium  will  advance  with  Ieap3 
and  bounds. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours  faithfully,         EUSTACE  SMILES. 

THE  EIGHT  STUFF. 

DEAR  Sin, — If  we  are  to  boycott  books,  for  Heaven's 
sake  let  it  be  those  which  profess  to  help  people  instead  of 
teaching  them  to  help  themselves.  What  we  want  is  men 
of  backbone  and  independence,  not  a  race  of  doormats 
and-  molluscs.  I  have  preached  this  doctrine  in  my  volumes 
Vim  and  Grit,  Buck  up,  Britain,  and  have  received 
testimonials  as  to  their  value  from  Sir  Prescott  Knight, 
the  famous  actor-manager,  Archdeacon  Tinkler,  and  Mr. 
HARRY  THAW,  copies  of  which  I  enclose. 

Yours  faithfully,         ERNEST  BLATHERWICK. 

P.S. — Can  you  suggest  any  means  by  which  I  could  get 
my  books  banned?  I  understand  it  has  a  marvellous 
effect  on  their  circulation. 

A  GOLFER'S  GROWL. 

DEAR  SIR, — May  I  suggest,  as  the  question' of  restricting 
the  circulation  of  undesirable  books  has  now  assumed  the 
dimensions  of  a  conflagration,  that  a  limit  should  be 
placed  upon  the  number  of  treatises  dealing  with  style 
in  golf.  Personally  I  should  be  quite  content  that  not 
more  than  six  should  be  allowed  in  circulation  at  the  same 
time.  As  matters  now  stand,  the  members  of  my  family 
alone  possess  eighteen  volumes  dealing  with  grip  and  stance, 
with  the  result  that  in  every  instance  their  handicaps  have 
been  raised.  Faithfully  yours, 

The  Nuggets,  Colorado.  BUNKER  BROWN. 

A'  LABOUR  LEADER'S  LAMENT. 

DEAR  SIR, — The  action  of  the  Library  Censorship  is  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  tyranny  of  the  National  Union 
of  Journalists."  A  volume  of  essays  of  mine  contributed  to 
various  newspapers  has  been  boycotted  by  them  so  per- 
sistently that  my  royalties  for  the  last  year  have  dwindled 
to  £100.  And  yet  we  speak  of.  England  as  a  free  country. 
Yours  despondently,  FLIMSY  MACEONALD. 

THE  CURSE  OF  GJESA.R. 

DEAR  SIR, — Now  that  people  are  trying  to  put  a  stop 
to  rotten  books,  perhaps  something  will  be  done  for  us 
schoolboys.  They  've  abolished  that  old  blighter  EUCLID 
at  my  school,  but  CJESAH  and  XENOPHON  are  just  as  had, 
and  no  one  says  a  word  against  them  in  public.  Do  help  us. 
Yours  truly,  FOURTH  FORM. 


"Five  Pups;  mother  between  Bull  Dog  and  Irish  Terrier,  father 
between  Boarhound  and  Retriever." — Gloucester  Citizen. 
We  '11  have  the  one  that  looks  most  like  a  dachshund. 


From  a  letter  in  The  Cape  Times  : — 

"As  Stevens'  manager,  I  am  willing  to  match  him  against  Sivcrs 
any  day  for  the  best  nurse  offered." 
The  loser  would  really  want  the  nurse. 


PUNCH,   Oil   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— SKI'TKMHKH    17,    1913. 


'DEUTSCHLAND    UEBER    ALLES." 

KING  OF  THE  HELLENES.  "OUR  SUCCESS   WAS,   AS   YOU    KNOW,   ENTIRELY   DUE   TO    YOU." 
GI.KMAN  EMPEBOK.  "THANKS,    THANKS."      (Aside)   "I    SUPPOSE    HE    CAN'T    BE    EEFEEEING 
TO    OUR    ORGANISATION    OF    THE    TURKISH   ARMY." 


HK.-TKMIIEB  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  243 


AUTUMN    MANCEUVRES-THE    MOUNTED    ORDERLY    CORPS. 

WE  ABE  GLAD  TO  LEARN  THAT,  IN  VIEW  OP  THE  SHORTAGE  OP  ABMY  HORSES,  THE  AUTHORITIES  ARE  AT.  LAST  RISING  TO  TUB 
OCCASION;  SEE  "FIELD  SERVICE  REGULATIONS,"  PART  1,  PAH.  20: — "ORDERLIES  .  .  .  MAY  BE  MOUNTED  ON  ANIMALS." 


GREAT  FOOTBALL  CONCILIATION 
SCHEME. 

PROPOSED  CONFERENCE. 

IN  athletic  circles  the  sole  topic  of 
conversation  is  the  proposal  of  Lord 
Burnlaw  to  call  a  Conference  for  the 
purpose  of  ending  the  long  and  distress- 
ing antagonism  between  the  Eugby 
Union  and  Association  games  by  con- 
sent. 

Briefly  summarised,  the  proposals 
which  he  submits  as  the  basis  of  the 
Conference  amount  to  a  compromise, 
according  to  which  running  with  the 
ball  and  collaring  will  be  allowed  till 
within  a  distance  of  sixty  yards  of  the 
goal  on  either  side,  while  goals  can 
only  be  scored  by  kickmg  into  the  net; 
the  shape  of  the  ball  to  be  rhomboidal, 
and  the  game  to  be  played  in  goloshes, 
cricket  pads  and  fencing  masks. 

Provincial,  Scottish  and  Welsh  opinion 
as  expressed  in  the  messages  of  our 
local  correspondents  shows  that  there 
is  little  enthusiasm  for  the  project. 

SOUTH  WALES. — Leading  footballers 
throughout  the  district  regard  Lord 
Burnlaw's  suggestion  as  wholly  im- 
practicable. His  motives  and  sincerity 
are  not  called  in  question,  but  it  is 
pointed  out  that  the  concessions 
demanded  of  either  side  go  far  beyond 
the  limits  of  practical  politics.  The 


Ovate  Bards  are  solid  in  their  adhesion 
to  the  oval  ball,  and  Professor  Grif- 
fiths of  the  South  Wales  University 
declares  that  the  rhomboidal  form 
advocated  is  incompatible  with  the 
genius  of  Wales. 

EVEBTON.  —  Lord     Burnlaw's  •  pro- 
posals are  greeted  with  modified  ap- 
proval in  the  centre  of  the  Toffee  indus- 
try.   The  concessions  to  the  Association 
game  are  admitted  to  be  considerable, 
but   it   is  strongly   held   that   League 
finance  would  be  imperilled  by  a  com-  i 
promise.       Alderman    Badger     is    ofj 
opinion   that   the  risks    of    refereeing  | 
would  be  greatly  increased.   As  matters 
now  stand,  no  referee  can  insure  him- 
self at  ordinary  rates. 

LONDON. — Mr.    Adrian    Stoop,    the  j 
famous  Harlequin,  refrains  from  criti-  j 
cising  the  scheme  until  he  has  seen  a  i 
trial  game   played,  but  is  of   opinion 
that  it  would  be  improved  from   the 
spectacular  point  of  view  if  the  players 
wore  accordion-pleated  shorts  and  usod 
a  small  gas  balloon  instead  of  a  ball. 

DUBLIN. — The  proposals  are  treated 
with  indifference  in  Gaelic  athletic  j 
circles.  If  the  proposed  amalgamation 
indicated  any  approximation  to  the 
rules  of  Gaelic  football,  it  would  be 
another  matter.  Mr.  Kickham,  a  pro- 
minent Sinn  Fein  leader,  denounces 
the  scheme  as  a  cowardly  Sassenach 


hybrid  combining  all  the  weaknesses  of 
two  puerile  pastimes  long  discarded 
by  the  virile  youth  of  Erin.  Mr. 
LAHKIN  has  also  expressed  his  dis- 
appointment. 

SKIBO.- — Mr.  Carnegie  has  addressed 
a  letter  of  sympathy  to  Lord  Burnlaw, 
expressing  his  entire  approval  of  a 
scheme  calculated  to  mitigate  the 
brutality  of  a  game  which  tends  to 
foster  militarism  and  retard  the  advent 
of  international  pcaco. 

Another  Forthcoming  Apology. 
"  Mrs.  Cavendish  Bcntinck,  who  had  kindly 
consented  to  speak,  was  prevented  from  doing 
so,  and  what  might  have  been  a  dismal  failure 
turned  out  a  very  successful  venture." 

The  Common  Cause. 


"Marie  Hart,  a  school  girl  who  turns  tho 
scale  at  fifteen  stone,  has  been  kidnapped  from 
her  home  at  Galesburg,  Illinois. 

"It  will  pay  you,  when  considering  any- 
thing electrical,  to  consult  T.  S ,  Electrical 

Engineer  and  Contractor." 

Burton  Daily  Mail. 

This  is  hardly  electrical  enough.  Had 
sho  turned  tho  scalo  at  twenty-five 
stone  wo  should  have  consulted  him. 


I 


"He  was  a  native   of  Liverpool,  but  had 
liver  for  many  years  in  the  Isle  of  Wight." 
"  Edmonton  (Canada.)  Journal. 

Perhaps  tho  East  coast  is  more  bracing. 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


THE    DIVISION. 

FOR  the  most  part  of  the  year  I  am 
on  excellent  terms  with  myself,  but 
in  the  beginning  of  September  there 
always  comes  the  split.  There  is  some- 
thing about  the  mere  thought  of  walk- 
ing up  partridges  which  sets  mo  against 
myself,  puts  me  beside  myself:  you 
have  only  to  place  me  in  a  line  of  guns 
at  the  bottom  of  a  field  of  roots  and 
you  have  in  the  clothes  and  the  body 
of  the  one  Me  two  separate  individuals, 
by  no  means  friendly  enough  to  be  so 
close  to  each  other.  The  metaphysi- 
cians call  this  a  phenomenon,  which 
gives  it  an  air  of  importance,  and  de- 
scribe it  as  the  divorce  of  Mind  from 
Matter,  which  adds  the  romantic  touch. 
With  a  word  of  sympathy  for  poor  old 
Matter,  1  leave  it  at  that.  If  only 
Mind  would  behave  as  becomes  a 
divorcee  and  go  away  al- 
together it  would  be  so 
much  easier  all  round.  But 
it  stays  to  carp  and  criticize, 
and  this  year  the  result  has 
been  worse  even  than  usual. 

We— that  is,  I — took  up 
our  place  in  the  line  and 
the  word  was  given  to 
advance.  Immediately  the 
trouble"  began.  '  "  Now 
then,"  whispered  Mind, 
"are  we  ready,  are  we  all 
ready  ?  Come,  come :  it 's 
no  use  carrying  our  gun  on. 
our  shoulder ;  we  shan't  be 
able  to  find  it  when  we 
want  it,  and  then,  of  course, 
it  will  be  too  late.  .  .  .  And 
it 's  hopeless  carrying  it  in 
both  hands.  .  .  .  H'st!  No, 
it 's  nothing.  All  right,  go  ahead : 
what  are  we  waiting  for?  Do  let's 
go  ahead  .  .  .  and  don't  let 's  point  our 
gun  down  the  line ;  can't  we  sea  the 
line  doesn't  like  being  pointed  at  ?  ... 
For  goodness'  sake  stop  those  fingers 
clutching  the  stock  nervously ;  we 
must  have  some  of  them  standing  by 
to  work  the  triggers." 

"  Very  good,  Sir,"  says  Matter,  mak- 
ing a  show  of  special  alertness  and 
going  through  the  movements.  You 
may  be  sure  that  if  a  bird  had  got  up 
at  that  particular  moment  all  would 
have  been  well,  except  with  the  bird. 
But  birds  are  wary,  they  don't  get  up 
at  particular  moments. 

"Now  don't  let's  get  thinking  about 
the  next  fellow's  spats,"  continues  Mind, 
after  an  interval.  "  Anything  may 
happen  at  any  moment  and  it 's  a 
thousand  to  one  we  shall  be  too  late 
for  it  when  it  does.  We  must  kesp 
our  attention  on  what  we  are  doing. 
Hasn't  that  keeper  got  his  eye  on 
us  ?  What  do  you  suppose  he  '11  say 


when  .  .  .  B-r-r-r-r!  Hi!  Look  out! 
Where  's  our  gun  ?  Where  are  the  bally 
triggers?  .  .  .  Stop,  stop,  stop,  you 
fool.  This  isn't  a  lark  shoot.  .  .  .  Do, 
for  heaven's  sake,  let  us  put  down  the 
gun  and  keep  quiet." 

"  Beg  pardon,"  says  Matter,  a  little 
upset,  "but  you'll  note  we  didn't  fire." 

"  Only  because  we  had  the  thing  on 
'  Safe,'  "  answers  Mind  angrily.  "  That 's 
a  clever  way  of  going  about  things, 
isn't  it  ?  Do,  do  let  us  pull  ourselves 
together  a  bit.  Suppose  that  had  been 
a  'partridge,  how  late  should  we  have 
been  if  we  ever  got  off  at  all  ?  They  're 
looking  at  us  and  beginning  to  wish 
they  hadn't  .  .  .  Well,  well,  WELL  ! ' 

Matter  looks  round  hurriedly.  "  Why, 
what 's  doing?  Birds?  Five  of  them, 
my  goodness,  and  no  one  plugging  at 
them.  Someone 's  not  doing  his  duty. 
Can  it  be  ourselves  ?  What  we  ought 


PASTIMES   OP  THE   GREAT. 

AN   AVIATOR    CULTIVATING    SANQFROW     UNDER    ADVERSE    CONDITIONS 
IN   VIEW   OP   THE   NEW   DEVELOPMENT   IN    UPSIDE-DOWN   FLYING. 


to  be  doing  now  is  getting  the  gun  up 
to  the  right  shoulder,  stretching  the  left 
arm  well  forward,  slightly  advancing 
the  left  foot  and  getting  on  to  the 
victim.  But  we're  not  doing  it,  you 
know.  We're  just  standing  still  and 
watching.  I  wonder  why  ?  " 

Mind,  if  it  can  be  conceived,  shrugs 
its  shoulders  and  sniffs  in  disgust. 
"  Well,  it 's  too  late  now,"  it  says,  "  and 
I  suppose  we  're  done  for.  If  we  are 
paralysed,  then  we  are  paralysed  and 
there 's  no  more  to  be  said  about  it. 
All  I  'm  thinking  is  that  it  was  a  pity 
to  go  and  spend  three  pounds  on  a 
game  licence  for  a  paralytic.  .  .  .  Sup- 
pose we  might  as  well  finish  the  walk 
and  enjoy  the  scenery  till  we  are  warned 
off.  Personally,  I  think  we  are  just 
about  the  worst  rotter  that  ever  .  .  . 
Another  covey  ahead,  you  observe ;  but 
I  suppose  it 's  no  use  my  suggesting 
that  we  loose  off  at  them  ?  " 

"  I  'd  do  anything  to  oblige  you  if 
only  we  could  stop  all  this  hammering 
and  noise  inside  us,"  splutters  Matter 


incoherently.  "  Why  can't  wo  put  up 
our  gun  just  like  anybody  else  and 
have  a  .  .  .?  What  the  dickens  was 
that  ?  Someone  shooting  within  a  foot 
of  our  ear.  .  .  .  Bless  my  soul  if  it 
wasn't  ourselves.  Well,  I  never  !  What 
about  that,  Mind?  Pretty  bright  of 
us,  wasn't  it? — I  mean,  we  did  make  a 
noise,  at  any  rats,  didn't  we  ?  " 

"  We  weren't  much  more  than  half- 
an-hour  late,"  comments  Mind  with 
bitter  sarcasm. 

Matter  takes  a  deep  breath  and  throws 
the  chest  out.  "  Next  time,"  it  says 
very  firmly,  "  wo-are-not-going-to-be- 
late.  You  just  wait  and  see." 

"  What 's  the  use  of  talking  like 
that?"  says  Mind.  "You  know  as  well 
as  I. do  that  we  are  hopelessly  incom- 
petent." 

"  Next  time,"  repeats   Matter,  even 
more  firmly,  "next  time  wo-are-not .  .  ." 
"  What 's  the  use  of  talk- 
ing  at   all  ? "    says    Mind, 
pointing  to  a  disappearing 
bird. 

"  Sorry,"  says  Matter,  and 
shoots. 

"  Oh,  my  goodness," 
groans  Mind.  "  All  we  've 
got  to  do  is  to  watch,  and 
when  we  see  a  partridge 
that 's  big  enough  to  be  a 
real  partridge  .  .  ." 

"  Next  time,"  interrupts 
Matter,  "  we  are  NOT  going 
to  be  late.  I 'm  not  listening 
to  you ;  I  'in  concentrated 
elsewhere." 

"Well,  you'd  better 
listen,"  goes  on  Mind, 
"  when  I  'm  telling  you  how 
to  do  it.  We  've  got  to 
face  the  others  some  time,  so  we  must 
try,  at  any  rate,  mustn't  we?  It's 
simple  enough,  isn't  it?  Then  why 
not  do  it,  and,  if  we  are  going  to  do  it, 
why  not  do 'it  at  once?  Why  waste 
time  thinking  about  it?  ...  Here, 
what  on  earth  are  we  going  to  do  now  ?  " 
"  Shoot,"  says  Matter,  and  shoots. 
"  Now  we  have  gone  and  done  it," 
says  Mind. 

"  Ay,"  says  Matter,  "  I  told  you  we 
weren't  going  to  be  late  this  time." 
"We  're  early,  you  juggins,"  says  Mind. 
"  Early  ?  "  asks  Matter,  feeling  a  sud- 
den dread.     "  But  only  a  second  at  the 
most.     And,  after  all,  it  is  a  dead  "un." 
"Too  dead,"  says  Mind,  "much  too 
dead.     And  it  isn't  a  matter  of  seconds 
but  weeks." 

Matter  now  feels  an  intense  longing 
to  be  dead  itself.  "  You  don't  say 
we  've  gone  and  killed  a  ..." 

"  Hen  pheasant,  you  fool,"  snaps 
Mind  angrily,  as  others  approach  to 
join  in  the  discussion  upon  the  Early 
Bird  and  the  Worm  that  shot  it. 


SEPTEMBEB  17.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


215 


SWALLOWS. 

THE  train  lias  loft  the  hills  behind 
And  South  we're  Hying  fast, 

"Clack — Clack,  alack,"  tho  pistons 

grind, 

"  That  Summer  cannot  last, 
That  holidays  are  passed  ;  " 

And  on  the  humming  wires  that  flow 
Between  the  posts  that  Hit, 

Regardless  of  the  G.  P.  0. 
Assembling  swallows  sit. 

They  sit,  the  signal  and  the  sign 

Oi  days  of  done  delight, 
I  sea  them  all  along  the  line 

A-busking  them  for  iliglit, 

Indecent  black-and-white ; 
And,  "  Oh,"  I  cry,  "  you  dapper  dears, 

The  leaf  and  I  are  brown, 
So  you  are  going  to  Algiers 

And  I  am  going  to  Town. 

"  On  Afric's  strand  you  '11  meet  the 
sun, 

But  I,  when  fogs  are  mirk, 
Shall  walk  along  the  London  one 

And  only  meet  my  work, 

Which  mightily  doth  irk  ;  " 
And  still  the  engine's  dirge  endures — 

"Alack,  alack,  alack," 
Because  they  're  going  to  the  Moors, 

And  I  am  coming  back. 


HOLES  AND  "  BEASTLY  HOLES." 

["Tho  golf  crazo  has  been  greater  this 
autumn  than  in  any  previous  year.  Nobody 
is  quite  safe  from  tho  fever.  It  seizes  those 
who  mocked  at  it,  and  pays  no  respect  to  sex 
or  age.  As  a  rule,  a  holiday  resort  might  as 
well  dispense  with  food  and  water  as  with  a 
golf  course." 

London  Letter,  "British  Weekly."] 

IT  should  now  be  possible  for  resorts 
of  the  smallest  attraction,  even  if  they 
have  never  before  been  considered  in 
the  light  of  holiday  centres,  to  draw 
the  custom  of  visitors.  All  that  has  to 
be  done  is  to  set  up  a  golf  course,  and, 
when  the  more  celebrated  links  become 
overcrowded,  as  they  must  soon  do,  the 
opportunity  of  the  new  bidders  for 
custom  will  come. 

SINKCHESTER. — The  water  supply  has 
been  cut  off  since  May,  and  water  can 
now  only  be  obtained  by  carrying  it  in 
buckets  a  distance  of  three  miles.  This 
fact,  and  not  the  coal  dust  with  which 
the  atmosphere  of  our  town  is  laden, 
accounts  for  the  blackened  faces  of  the 
thousands  of  golfers  whom  our  famous 
links  continue  to  attract  into  our  midst. 

So  great  is  the  demand  for  rooms 
and  so  over-taxed  the  accommodation 
that  hundreds  of  well-known  players 
are  content  to  sleep  in  tho  pit  workings. 

ISLAND  OF  DULL,  N.B. — Owing  to 
scanty  food  the  hundreds  of  visitors 
now  here  have  to  content  themselves 
with  the  spoonful  of  oats  daily,  which 


(Club  steps  during  Juiavy  sUou-er.) 
Brown  (wlio  lias  just  returned  from  his  holidays,  to  Robinson  about  to  leave  for  his).  "An, 

THIS   IS    WHAT   WE    ALL   WANT.      THREE    OE    FOUR    WEEKS    OF    STEADY    KAIN    WILL    BRIGHTEN 
THINGS   UP  A  LOTl  " 


is  all  the  Provost  can  now  allow.  It  is 
feared  that  even  this  quantity  may  have 
to  be  curtailed  owing  to  the  continued 
influx  of  visitors.  Play  for  the  Autumn 
Vase  begins  to-morrow,  when,  if  not 
too  faint,  two  hundred  and  fifty-three 
couples  hope  to  go  out. 

SMELSOME,  LINCS. — The  season  is 
now  in  full  swing.  Thousands  of 
visitors  may  be  seen  daily  threading 
their  difficult  way  through  the  dense 
chemical  fumes  to  the  links.  A  large 
sale  is  being  done  among  the  smart  and 


well-dressed  throng  with  a  neat  form 
of  nostril  stopper,  which  may  be  carried 
by  the  caddie  when  not  in  use.  1,631 
visitors  arrived  this  morning;  one  left. 
MOULDHAM. — Throngs  of  disting- 
uished persons  continue  to  pour  out.  of 
our  two  railway  stations  intent  upon 
our  famous  links.  When  not  playing, 
visitors  spend  their  time  visiting  the 
tram  terminus,  the  "  site  for  four 
houses  "  in  Pip-pip  Street,  the  windows 
of  Mr.  Cooz's  new  ready-to-wear  tailor- 
ing establishment  in  Market  Street,  etc. 


246 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDO^  CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


THE    RALEIGH    TOUCH. 


'  want  her  husband's  sealed  orders.     All 
right?     Good.     (To  Lady  Felicia)  Ah, 

_  i      -i  it'..     •  -  .,     f i>i  siit /I     T^I-MI  »*n  n.l 


TA  hint  of  what  is  in  store  for  visitors  to 
Drury  Lano,  where  the  groat  autumn  melo- 
drama, Sealed  Orders,  by  CK.CII.  U.M.KKMI  and 
HKNKY  HAMILTON,  is  now  on  view.] 
Scene  27.—^   West-end  gambling  hell. 

Lady    Felicia   Gaveston    is  playing 

cards  with  somebody  u-hoss  name  I 

have  forgotten, 

Lord  Jones  (or  whoever  it  is).  Well, 
vhat  are  the  stakes  this  time,  dear 

tidy  V 

Lady  Felicia  (recklessly).  Five  thou- 
sand pounds.  [They  play. 

Lord  Jones  (suddenly).  Snap! 

Lady  Felicia.  Bother!  Let's  see, 
Jiat's  five  thousand  I  owe  you.  Just 
one  more.  [They  play  again. 

Lord  Jones.     >    .         ^    Snap! 

Lady  Felicia.  J  v    • 

Lord  Jones.  I  said  it  first.  That 
nakos  ten  thousand.  Let  me  have 
a  cheque  in  the  morning.  [Exit. 

Huron  Kurdmann  (the  Something 
A  mbassador) .  I  am  afraid  you  have  lost, 
dear  lady  ? 

Lady  Felicia.  Oh,  Baron,  what  shall  I 
do?  My  husband,  Admiral  Lord  Hugh 
Gaveston,  G.C.B.,  will  be  so  annoyed. 
He's  so  fussy  about  little  things  like 
this.  I  suppose  you  couldn't  lend  me 
ten  thousand  pounds  till — er — till — till 
I  pay  you  hack  '? 

Kurdmann  (aside).  Admiral  Lord 
Hugh  Gaveston,  G.C.B. !  The  man  to 
whom  the  sealed  orders  will  be  sent  to- 
morrow !  If  my  country  could  only  get 
possession  of  them  before  war  breaks 

out •  (To  Lady  Felicia)  Alas,  I  have 

only  three-and-ninepence  on  me,  dear 
lady ;  but  my  friend,  Gaston  Fournal, 
might  help  you.  There  he  is.  Shall  I 
ask  him  ? 

Lady  Felicia.  Do. 

Kurdmann  (impressively  to  Fournal). 
Listen  !  Is  my  moustache  on  straight  ? 
Fournal  (surprised).  Fairly.  Why  ? 
Kurdmann.  Every  now  and  then  it 
seems  to  be  slipping  to  one  side.  How- 
ever, that  wasn't  what  I  wanted  to 
speak  to  you  about.  (Sinking  his -voice) 
Our  time  has  come.  Lady  Felicia 
wants  to  borrow  ten  thousand  pounds. 
What  with  my  moustache  and  my 
foreign  accent  and  one  thing  and 
another,  it 's  fairly  obvious  that  I  am 
the  villain  of  the  play.  Now  you  got 
cheered  by  the  gallery  in  the  First  Act, 
and  you  havealittledaughtereight  years 
old.  Nobody  would  suspect  you.  . 

•  Fournal.  But  that  was  twenty  years 
ago.     She  's  twenty-three  now. 

Kurdmann.  Well,  anyhow,  you  're 
popular.  The  man  who  steals  the  dia- 
monds in  the  First  Act  to  keep  his  little 
daughter  from  starving  is  always  popu- 
lar. Now,  can  1  leave  it  to  you '!  She 
wants  ten  thousand  pounds  and  we 


lILMlui  VJV*-"-  V  V  1 

dear  lady,  this  is  my  friend  Fournal. 
Perhaps  he  will  help  you.  [Exit. 

Lady  Felicia  (eagerly).  It's  only 
ten  thousand.  I'll  pay  you  back- 
er— some  time. 

Fournal  (impressively).  Lady  Felicia, 
I  will  give  you  the  money  on  one  con- 
dition;  which  is,  that  you  seal  your 
husband's  stealed— I  mean  that  you 
steal  your  husband's  sealed  orders. 

Lady  Felicia  (indignantly).  Betray 
my  country?  Never.  (Hear,  hear.) 

Fournal.  You  don't  understand.  The 
fact  is  (lying)  I  am  writing  a  melodrama 
for  Drury  Lane  and  I  want  to  see  what 
sealed  orders  look  like.  That 's  all. 

Lady  Felicia.  Oh,  well,  if  you 
promise  ...  I  don't  know  .  .  .  per- 
haps .... 

Enter  her  brother,  Lieutenant  Wil- 
loughhy,  E.N.,  known  in  aquatic 
circles  as  Breezy  Bill. 

Breezy  Bill  (out  of  sheer  breezinsss). 
Yo-heave-ho.  Top-hole.  What?  (To 
the  rest  of  the  cast)  Look  here,  every- 
body, we  're  giving  a  ball  on  our  ship 
to-night.  Of  course  you  '11  all  come  ? 

Everybody.  Rather! 
CURTAIN. 


Scene  45.— The  battleship.     A  ball  is 

in  progress. 
The  Rt.  Hon.  Ronald  Caversham  (to 
Admiral   Lord   Hugh).    Here   are   the 
sealed  orders.     If  you  lose  them,  Eng- 
land is  destroyed.       [Exit  Ca.verab.am. 
Lord  Hugh.  Eight.     I  '11  put  them 
in  my  safe.    (Does  so.)    Nobody  would 
think  of  looking  for  them  there. 

Enter  Lady  Felicia. 
Lady   Felica.  Hugh,   my   diamonds 
are  in  your  safe.     May  I  have  the  key  ? 
Lord  Hugh.    Certainly,   dear.      Let 
me  have  it  back.  [Exit. 

Lady  Felicia  (opening  the  safe).    The 
sealed   orders  !  (Sfic  takes  them.)    Now 
I  can  pay  my  "  Snap  "  debts.        [Exit. 
Enter.  Lord  Hugh.     He  goes  to 

the  safe. 

Lord  Hugh.  Help !  The  sealed  orders 
have  been  stolen.     Stop  the  music  ! 
[The  band  stops,  and  lie  rushes  on 

deck  and  addresses  the  guests. 
Lord  Hugh.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,' 
the   sealed    orders    have   been   stolen. 
I  propose  to  search  the  thousand  or  so 
odd  people   on   board.     I   shall   begin 
with — 31- — who  shall  I  begin  with  ? 
The  Prompter.    Lieut.  Willoughby. 
Lord  Hugh  (slightly  nettled).    I  shall 
begin  with  Lieut.  Willoughby. 

Breezy  Bill  (to    Lady   Felicia).    Oh 

lord!    I've  just  remembered  something. 

Lady  Felicia.  What  ? 

Breezy    Bill.     Why,    that   letter   of 

Baron  Kurdmann's  that  you   showed 

me,  asking  you  to  meet  him  at  the  Zoo 


next  Thursday.  It's  in  my  pocket.  If 
your  husband  read  it  you  would  be 
seriously  compromised. 

Lady  Felicia  (anxiously).  Can't  you 
eat  it  ? 

Breezy  Bill.  He  writes  on  such  stiff 
paper.  (Tliouyhtjidly)  I  might  dmcn 
it. 

Lord  Hugh.  Well,  Lieut.  Willoughby, 
I  am  waiting  for  you  to  turn  out  your 
pockets. 

Breezy  Bill.  Never,  Sir! 

Lord  Hugh  (annoyed).  Arrest  that 
man! 

Breezy  Bill.  Wait  a  moment. 
[He  climbs  to  the  top  of  the  mast  and 
dives  into  the  s  '.a. 
CURTAIN. 

Scene  119.     On  an  Airship. 

Ruth  Fournal.  Father,  I  wish  you  'd 
explain  what  we're  doing  here. 

Fournal.  Wait  a  moment,  do  jr. 
(Looking  over  the  side)  Are  there  any 
boy-scouts  hanging  on  behind  ? 

'Ruth.  I  can't  see  any.     Why? 

Fournal.  They  're  always  popular  on 
the  stage,  and  I  thought  perhaps  one 
of  them  was  saving  England  or  some- 
thing. Ah,  now  we're  rising  better. 
What  were  you  saying,  dear? 

Ruth.  I  said,  why  are  we  here,  and 
why  did  you  give  me  the  sealed  orders, 
and  why 


Fournal.  Well,  Mr.  ARTHUR  COLLINS 
insisted  on  an  airship  this  year,  and 
somebody  had  to  go  in  it.  Of  course 
I  'in  escaping  with  the  sealed  orders, 
and  vou — well,  you  're  the  heroine,  and 
Lieut.  Willoughby  is  going  to  rescue 
you  from  the  waves  in  the  next  scene, 
and — er — this  is  my  new  chauffeur 
who  's  driving  the  thing.  That 's  all. 

[A  searchlight  plays  upon  his  face. 
Chauffeur.  Blimy,  it 's  'im\ 
Fournal.  The  navy  has  seen  us,  but 
their   guns   can't  reach   us.      We — 
Well,  my  man,  what  is  it  ? 

Chattffeur  (politely).  I  think  we  have 
met  before.     Do  you  remember  stealing 
some  diamonds  in  the  First  Act? 
Fournal  (alarmsd).  N-n-n-n-n-no. 
Chauffeur.   Oh  yes,  you  do.     And  J 
got   twenty   years   for   it.      (Annoyed) 
Beast ! 

Fournal  (nervously).  Here,  go  away. 
[The  chauffeur  leaps  at  him  and  they 

plunge  over  the  side  together. 
C.   M.   HALLABD    (below    the   stage 
level).  Steady;  you  got  your  foot  in  rnj 
eye  that  time. 

CLIFTON  ALDERKON.  Awfully  sorry 

It  went  all  right  at  the  dress  rehearsal 

[A   gun   is   heard,   and  the  airship 

collapses  and  falls  into  the  sea. 
Ruth.  Help! 

CURTAIN. 

Epilogue. 
CECIL    RALEIGH.    M'yes.     I   don1 


SKI  TEMHEB  17,  1913.]         PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVAPJ. 


247 


think  that  quite  does  it  justice.    (Lights 
yigarette.) 

'Mi.  Still,  it  gives  the  idea. 

\I:Y  HAMILTON  (plaintively). 
You  'vo  gone  and  left  out  ail  the  funny 

[Sits  doicn. 

MK   (surprised).    Sorry;    I    thought 
d  put  it  in. 

lli:sii\'     ][.IMII.T(>\.    I     mean     tlio 
:ous    palmist     and     the    beauty 
specialist  and  all  that. 
Mi:  (coldly).  Oh,  I  see. 

/;.  H.ILI-:HIH  (reproachfully).  You 
you  were  thrilled  and  excited  by 
i'ship  scene  and  the  burglary  in 
'irst   Act.      (Crowes    to    xyplwn.) 
\\Vien't  you? 
Mi':.  Rather — awfully. 
7/;;.vflV     HAMILTON     (stirring     his 
.  And  you  sayjiothing  about  the 

Oh,  that  was  splendid. 
/.  11. -a, I-:KI n.    So  you  really  did 
enjoy  your  evening '? 

JI!K.  Most  certainly  I  did. 

//,  BALEIQH.     \  (toijfther). 
A  KTHua  COLLINS.   [       Then    that 's 
HI:\KY  HAMILTON.}       all  right. 
A.  A.  M. 

AT  THE   PLAY. 

THE  ST.  JAMES  THEATRE. 
EVERYBODY  knows  the  story  of  the 
little  girl  who  complained  that  "  one 
poor  lion  hadn't  got  any  Christian ;  " 
I  can  remember  how  I  laughed — ("  Ha, 
ha !  ") — when  I  heard  it.  There  is 
another  good  story  of  Daniel  in  the 
lions'  den,  not  quite  so  well  known ; 
to  the  effect  that  when  the  King  came 
to  see  Daniel  in  the  morning  and 
asked  him  how  he  had  got  on,  Daniel 
answered  that  he  had  been  a  little 
troubled  by  lions;  to  which  the  King 
replied  indignantly,  "Then  you  must 
have  brought  them  with  you."  There 
are  also  current  some  excellent  jokes 
about  cannibals  and  missionaries,  one 
of  the  most  popular  being  the  retort  of 
the  cannibal  that,  even  if  he  wasn't  a 
Christian,  at  any  rate  he  had  Christian 
blood  in  his  veins.  As  I  said  above, 
"  Ha,  ha !  "  For  a  joke  about  anything 
so  serious  as  death  or  religion  begins 
to  be  funny  even  before  one  tells  it ; 
in  the  same  way  that  the  entrance  of 
the  Vicar's  fox-terrier  into  church  starts 
one  giggling  long  before  it  joins  its 
master  in  the  pulpit. 

Mr.  SHAW  is  quite  funny  in  Androcles 
and  the  Lion,  but  if  he  had  any  purpose 
other  than  this  I  did  not  see  it.  Certain 
passages  in  the  play  seemed  to  indicate 
a  view  that  the  early  Christian  martyrs 
were  not  necessarily  brave  or  good, 
but  merely  proud.  At  least  they  died. 
Personally,  I  am  quite  sure  that  I 
should  not  have  died  .  .  and  I  have 


(viewing  his  pet  production).  "  YOU'VE  'AD  QUASSIA  CHIPS,  FERTILIZER,  BONE- 
DUST,  BOOT,  AND  THAT  '&  THE  BEST  YOU  CAN  DO  1  AFTEB  THIS  SOU  CAN  TAKE  YOUR  CHANCE 
WITH  THE  BEST!  " 


a  horrid  feeling  that  if  the  Bernardus 
Shavius  of  the  day  had,  before  entering 
the  arena  himself,  tried  to  persuade  me 
that  I  was  really  the  braver  man  and 
the  better  Christian  of  the  two,  I  should 
not  have  believed  him. 

Mr.  0.  P.  HEGGIE  was  remarkably 
good  as  Androcles,  and  Mr.  EDWABD 
SILLWABD  was  a  delightful  lion.  They 
had  a  particularly  funny  turn  with  the 
Emperor  (perfectly  played  by  Mr.  LEON 
QUARTEBMAINE)  in  the  last  scene,  which 
might  have  well  been  encored.  This 
reminds  me  that  Mr.  SHAW  has  just 
announced  again  that  he  does  not  like 
the  audience  to  indulge  in  rude  laughter 
at  his  plays.  I  am  sorry,  but  on  this 
occasion  1  simply  could  not  help  it.  If 
Mr.  SHAW  were  to  sit  in  front  of  me  in 
church  with  his  tie  under  his  left  ear  I 
should  always  giggle. 


Androcles  and  the  Lion  is  preceded 
by  The  Harlequinade,  "contrived- by; 
DION  CLAYTON  CALTHBOP  and  GBAN- 
VILLE  BABKEB."  This  was  charming, 
but  just  not  charming  enough.  With 
such  a  good  idea  to  work  upon,  and 
with  such  pleasant  people  as  Mr. 
ABTHUB  WHITBY  and  Miss  CATHLEEN 
NESBIT  to  sit  in  front  of  the  curtain 
and 'explain  what  was  happening,  the 
authors  should  have  cast  a  greater  spell 
over  the  audience.  Perhaps  the  others 
were  completely  enthralled  ;  I  can  only 
speak  for  myself.  I  wanted  to  be 
entirely  captivated,  and  I  was  not. 
None  the  less  The  Harlequinade  is  very 
well  worth  seeing  as  an  original  enter- 
tainment, whimsical  and  pretty,  and 
well  acted  by  (among  others)  Mr.  NIGEL 
PLAYFAIB  the  Clown,  and  Mr.  DONALD 
CALTHROP,  the  Harlequin.  M. 


248  PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


AGAINST   THE    WIND. 


WITH    THE    WIND. 


DlSASTBOUS    INFLUENCE    OP   THE    SEA-BBEEZES    ON    THE    MODERN   "  NUT  "    COIFFUB.E.      RECENTLY   WITNESSED    BY    OUR    ARTIST   AT  A 
POPULAR  WATERING-PLACE. 


THE    DEGENERATE. 

(.4  tale  of  the  Duke  of  WESTMINSTER'S 

£100,000  fund.) 
IT  is  befitting,  is  it  not, 
That  I  should  tell  you  frankly  what 
Temptations  of  the  baser  sort 
Beset  the  devotees  of  Sport? 

Our  hero,  Herbert  Henry  Smith, 
Was  born  with  muscles,  wind  and  pith 
Enough  to  win  the  foremost  place 
With  ease  in  any  cycle  race. 
One  object  from  his  boyhood  up 
Fulfilled  his  soul — to  hunt  the  cup, 
And  all  the  prizes  which  be  won 
(No  idler  he  who  rode  for  fun) 
He  'd  realise,  invest  and  lend 
And  flourish  oji  the  dividend. 
Such  was  the  man,  as  you  'd  expect, 
Collectors  hastened  to  collect. 

Collecting  sportsmen  is  a  line 

In  which  the  most  expert  combine 

Discernment,  wits,  persistence,  dash, 

With  readiness  to  part  with  cash. 

The  early  bird,  who  has  in  view 

The  worm  it  means  to  cotton  to, 

Must  not  rely  for  its  success 

Entirely  on  its  earliness, 

But,  bluffing  boldly  once  or  twice, 

Must  ultimately  pay  the  price 


The  victim  asks  for.     Wily  worms 

Negotiate  for  stillish  terms. 

Was  Herbert  hired,  then  ?  Not  at  all ; 

He  was  no  low  professional. 

"  I  scorn,"  said  he,  "  all  sordid  sums ; 

But  posts  in  Sports  Emporiums, 

Remunerative  sinecures 

Which  keep  men  rich  but  amateurs, 

I  might  consider.     Verb.  sap.  sat." 

He  let  the  matter  stand  at  that, 

Nor  later  asked  what  money's  worth 

Was  spent  in  getting  him  a  berth  .  .  . 

And  thus  we  find  him  at  IIH  prime 

The  leading  sportsman  of  his  time, 

Secure,  by  his  own  competence, 

In  independent  affluence. 

Who  could  foresee  for  such  a  blend 

Of  perfect  parts  so  bad  an  end  ? 

So  hard  a  bargain  did  he  drive 
And  with  such  subtlety  contrive 
The  business  side  of  his  affair, 
That  friends  remarked,  "  You  have 

the  flair 

For  commerce  in  your  soul,  my  lad, 
If  anybody  ever  had !  " 
A  little  pleased,  himself,  the  fool 
Began  to  find  his  office  stool 
A  pleasant  hobby.     Bit  by  bit 
He  grew,  alas,  so  fond  of  it 
That  more  than  hobby  it  became, 
And  stern  ambition's  nobler  aim, 


To  concentrate  upon  the  pot, 
No  more  inspired  him,  was  forgot. 
Unseen,  but  strong,  temptations  lurk 
As  some  for  Drink,  so  he  for  Work 
Conceived  an  overwhelming  lust, 
And  left  his  bicycle  to  rust  1 

A  word  of  sympathy  is  due 
For  all  those  minor  heroes  who 
Subscribed  to  put  him  on  the  Track 
But  never  got  a  penny  back. 

Pride  of  Body. 

From  a  cinematograph  poster: — 
"THE  BLACK  SNAKE 

3000  FEET   LONG 

(Exclusive)." 
So  should  we  be. 


"  Hayati  once  had  a  job  as  a  court-jest; 
under  Abdul  Dammit." 

East  London  Dispatch. 

In  fact,  that  was  bis  first  official  jokf 
Unfortunately  ABDUL  HAMID  iieve 
really  appreciated  it. 

"  The  most  important  was  a  sis  round  coi 
test  between  Seaman  Gaiman  and  Stoki 
Greenwood.  .  .  .  The  match  ended  in  a  \vi 
for  Garwood  on  paint.;." — Ceylon  Observer, 

The  referee  seems  to  have  hedged  in 
very  cowardly  way. 


PUNCH,  OE  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


'  • 


A    DANGEROUS    GAME. 

MR.  PUNCH.  "  WHAT    ARE    YOU    UP    TO    THERE  ? " 

CHORUS  OP  IERESPONSIBLES.  "WE    WANT    TO    GET    AT     THE    CROWN     AND    PLAY    PARTY 
POLITICS    WITH    IT." 

MR.  PUNCH.  "YOU   TAKE   MY  ADVICE  AND  MOVE  ALONG,  OR  THERE'LL  BE  TROUBLE." 


17,  1913.]         PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


251 


The  Youth  (just  returned  from  his  holiday).  "On,  I 'M  A  GREAT   BELIEVER  is  HOLIDAYS.     ONE  COMES   BACK   so  FIT.     BEAEI 

CLEAB,   APPEARANCE   IMPROVED   AND  ALTOGETHER  MORE  WIDE-AWAKE." 

The  Maid.  "AND  WHEN  SHALL  YOU  TAKE  YOUR  HOLIDAY?" 


THE  DESCRIPTIVE  THEATRE 
PROGRAMME. 

Mn.  PUNCH  cannot  help  feeling  that 
the  efforts  of  the  serious  school  towards 
the  Brightening  of  British  Drama  would 
be  materially  assisted  if  the  depression 
induced  hy  some  of  the  more  popular 
forms  of  production  were  dissipated  hy 
means  of  a  descriptive  programme, 
similar  to  that  in  use  at  concerts.  He 
respectfully  submits  a  sample  of  what 
he  proposes,  applied  to  a  drawing-room 
comedy  obsessed  by  an  actor-manager 
with  melodramatic  tendencies : — • 

ACT  I. 

The  play  opens  with  a  short  prelude 
of  minor  characters,  during  which  the 
main  themo-is  stealthily  introduced. 
Some  light  fluting  is  interspersed  with 
a  few  heavy  notes,  which  gradually 
assume  the  predominance.  The  motif 
is  touched  upon,  and  a  few  incidental 
explanations  furnished. 

This  practically  comprises  the  First 
Act  (or  movement) ;  but  a  climax  is 
provided  hy  a  gradual  agitato  of  all  the 
subordinate  parts,  whose  tonic  value 
we  now  perceive  to  be  at  the  point  of 
fullest  expression,  and  the  whole  move- 


ment culminates  (with  a  swift  series  of 
arpeggios)  in  the  entrance  of  the  actor- 
manager.  The  minor  embellishments 
at  once  fade  away  as  the  actor-manager 
momentarily  strikes  the  dominant.  The 
curtain  falls.  The  main  theme  is  not 
developed. 

ACT  II. 

This  Act  is  full  of  movement  and 
force.  The  dominant  is  resumed  at  the 
outset  and  never  relinquished.  The 
actor-manager  takes  up  the  burden  of 
the  heavy  notes  suggested  at  the  be- 
ginning of  Act  I.,  and  interpolates  them 
into  the  main  theme,  which  is  now. 
fully  developed.  He  also  imputes  the 
motif  with  some  vigour. 

The  strain  is  temporarily  relaxed  in 
favour  of  some  warblings  of  a  lighter 
character,  there  being  no  departure 
from  traditional  technique  in  this 
respect.  Almost  immediately,  how- 
ever, the  main  theme  is  again  resumed 
by  the  actor-manager,  who,  working 
infinite  variations  upon  it,  leads  it  up 
to  a  strident  climax  full  of  subtle  sug- 
gestion for  the  Third  Act,  the  harmonic 
minors  meanwhile  providing  a  muted 
under-movement  suitably  subservient  to 
the  principal  melody. 


ACT  III. 

This  opens  with  a  brief  chorale  for 
mechanical  instruments,  an  interlude 
which  is  quickly  succeeded  by  a  stormy 
scena,  the  sinister  character  of  which 
finds  the  actor-manager  quite  at  his 
best.  There  follows  a  long  and  tender 
passage,  very  sweet  and  contagious, 
which  the  actor-manager  sustains  on  a 
lofty  note  to  the  running  accompani- 
ment of  the  principal  lady.  Interwoven 
with  this  is  the  main  theme,  and  from 
it  is  gradually  evolved  the  grand  finale, 
heralded  by  the  universal  entrance  of 
all  the  parts. 

The  grand  finale,  which  is  very 
effectively  interrupted  by  a  fine  aria 
for  the  actor-manager,  gathers  together 
all  the  threads  of  the  main  theme, 
explains  the  motif,  and  finally  resolves 
itself  into  an  assortment  of  cumulative 
duets,  on  which  the  play  closes. 

"  I  hopo  that  the  gentlemen  who  worked  so 
hard  last  season  to  put  the  League  in  working 
order  will  not  be  downhearted,  but  will  have 
another  try,  and  will  keep  in  mind  the  old 
story  of  King  Alfred  and  the  spider." 

Catholic  Herald. 

We  prefer  the  story  of  how  BRUCE  let 
the  bannock  burn.      [Joke. — ED.] 


252 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


CONCERNING  WILLIAM  SMITH. 

I  LIKE  William  Smith.  I  do  not 
know  him  but  I  like  him.  "What  is 
more  extraordinary  perhaps  is  that  he 
evidently  knows  me  intimately  and 
loves  me.  Romantic  attachments  are 
rare  nowadays. 

I  met  William  in  this  way.  On 
opening  my  letters  one  morning  I  saw 
at  the  head  of  a  letter  an  engraving  of 
a  noble,  if  side -whiskered,  face.  It 
impressed  me  at  once  as  that  of  a 
kindly,  thoughtful  gentleman,  and  I 
began  to  read  his  letter  with  interest. 
It  ran — 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — As  a  fellow- 
sufferer  from  that  intensely 
painful  complaint,  lumbago,  I 
have  pleasure  in  calling  your 
attention  to  the  William  Smith 
Lumbago  Discovery. 

Then  came  a  page  describing 
William's  agonizing  attack  of 
lumbago  in  Yucatan  (which 
brought  tears  to  my  eyes),  and 
an  account  of  the  miraculous 
herb  with  which  a  Mexican 
cacique  cured  him.  William, 
with  great  and  considerate  kind- 
ness, offered  me  the  complete 
course  of  lumbago  cure  at  half- 
price — one  guinea.  He  very 
thoughtfully  enclosed  a  stamped, 
addressed  envelope  (with  de- 
tachable stamp)  for  my  reply. 

I  should  have  answered  at 
once  but  for  three  reasons — I 
hate  writing  letters,  the  detach- 
able stamp  became  detached,  and 
I  have  never  had  lumbago. 

So  William's  stamp  vanished 
into  the  maw  of  the  Post  Office 
and  I  regret  to  say  I  forgot 
William. 

But  William  did  not  forget 
me.  Side-whiskers  and  fidelity 
go  together.  A  month  later  I 
opened  a  letter  and  found  William 
staring  at  me.  I  feared  he  had  written 
about  the  little  matter  of  the  stamp, 
but  I  did  not  know  the  lofty-minded 
William.  This  time  he  was  more  inti- 
mate. He  began — • 

DEAR  MR.  JONES, — From  the  de- 
scription you  give  of  your  symptoms 
I  have  no  doubt  that  you  are  suffer- 
ing from  lumbago  of  an  aggravated 
type. 

Then  came  a  little  more  about  Yuca- 
tan (William,  like  many  other  men,  is  a 
little  lengthy  in  describing  his  travels), 
an  offer  to  send  me  the  complete  course 
at  half-price— fifteen  shillings  now — 
and  another  stamped  envelope. 

I  used  my  dear  friend's  stamp,  and 
then,  such  is  the  ingratitude  of  man- 
kind, I  forgot  him. 

Just  a  month  afterwards  who  should 


turn  up  but  dear  old  William  again. 
"This  time,"  I  thought,  "I  have  hurt 
the  dear  fellow.  He  will  surely  say 
something  about  that  envelope." 

Did  he  ?  Ah,  how  I  misjudged  him. 
His  letter  ran — 

MY  DEAR  MR.  JONES, — Lumbago  is 
frequently  the  forerunner  of  Bright's 
disease  and  diabetes.  It  means  pain, 
collapse,  prostration,  DEATH.  There  is 
only  one  hope  for  the  sufferer.  (Here 
Wiiliam  once  more  wandered  to  Yuca- 
tan.) Consider  your  wife  and  family. 
Save  yourself  while  there  is  time.  I 
will  send  my  great  Lumbago  Discovery 
post  paid  for  10s.  6d. — half-price. 


Would  you  believe  that  William 
Smith  never  replied  ?  I  did  think  he 
would  at  least  have  sent  a  wreath,  or 
a  few  stamped  envelopes  for  the  widow. 
Perhaps  he  was  too  overcome  to  write. 
And  now  that  I  am  defunct  (officially) 
I  have  a  strange  longing  to  meet 
William  in  the  flesh.  Suppose  some  day 
I  see  that  thoughtful,  side-whiskered 
face  in  the  Tube  I  shall  certainly  intro- 
duce myself.  Not,  of  course,  as  Jones. 
I  shall  whisper  in  his  ear,  "Are  you 
William  Smith?"  When  he  says, 
"  Yes,  dear  me,  I  ought  to  know  you ; 
your  face  is  quite  familiar,"  I  shall 
reply,  "  William,  I  am  the  Mexican 
cacique  from  Yucatan.  Do  you 
happen  to  have  any  of  your  ex- 
cellent stamped  envelopes  about 
you?" 

Modern  Potato  Culture. 

"I  once  got  a  circular  from  a 
man.  who  grew  potatoes  containing 
his  photograph,  and,  I  think,  an  auto- 
biography."— Musical  Standard. 

We  have  a  giant  gooseberry 
that  reminds  us  of  Mr.  CHESTER- 
TON, but  that  is  not  quite  the 
same  thing. 


["Pocket-clipper — can  bo  used  for  the  beard  or  hair  at  back 
of  neck." — From  a  catalogue. ,] 

PORTRAIT  OP  GENTLEMAN  USING  POCKET-CLIPPEE  10  TEIM 
BEARD  AT  BACK  OF  NECK. 


A  correspondent  writing  to 
Amateur  Gardening  on  his  forth- 
coming flower  show,  says : — 

"  I  like  to  set  up  cut  flowers  in 
twenty-four  kinds,  but  find  it  difficult 
to  get  that  number  in  anything  like 
good  condition.  I  prefer  good  peren- 
nials for  cutting,  but  animals  are 
allowed." 

Answer.  Trim  your  canary  and 
send  him  up. 


He  did  not  enclose  a  stamped  enve- 
lope. I  feared  my  friend  had  begun  to 
doubt  me.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  Either 
I  must  send  10s.  6d.,  and  I  have  a 
constitutional  objection  to  parting  with 
•money,  or  else  I  must  relieve  William's 
agonizing  anxiety  about  me.  It  seemed 
to  me  best  to  end  the  matter.  Better 
one  sharp  shock  than  corroding  care. 
So  I  wrote — 

MY  DEAR  MR.  SMITH, — You  will,  I 
am  sure,  be  grieved  to  hear  that  your 
old  friend,  Mr.  Jones,  expired  in  agonies 
of  lumbago  this  morning.  His  last 
words  were,  "  William  Smith — Yucatan 
— half-price."  I  know  that  this  will 
be  a  bitter  blow  to  you.  Still  you 
have  this  consolation  :  you  warned  him 
faithfully  of  his  danger. 

Believe  me,  his  sorrowing  widow, 
EMMA  JONES. 


"  The  Bishop  is  unmarried,  and 
has  four  brothers  and  two  sisters. 
His  brothers  are  ...  as  widely  ex- 
tended as  a  Colonel  of  the  Royal 
Berkshire  Regiment,  at  Morut,  India ; 
a  Vicar  in  Monmouthshire  ;  the 
Rector  of  Standerton,  and  a  barrister  at 
Johannesburg." — Sydney  Church  Standard. 

The  stoutness  of  Monmouthshire  vicars 
is  of  course  proverbial. 


"MR.  H.  D.  PARKY-MITCHELL  has  had 
erected  a  handsome  clock  on  the  turret  of 
Merevale  Church,  with  dials  facing  two  ways. 
This  is  not  only  an  ornamental  addition  to 
the  exterior  of  the  edifice,  but  will  bo  f»imd 
to  be  very  useful  to  people  wishing  to  know 
the  time." — Atherstone  News. 

A  most  ingenious  idea  of  Mr.  PARRY- 
MITCHELL'S. 


"Between  lunch  and  dinner  take  another 
tumbler  of  water  cold.  Take  a  glass  of  cold 
water  half  an  hour  after  lunch,  half  an  hour 
after  tea,  half  an  hour  after  dinner,  and 
before  going  to  bod  at  night.  Never  drink 
between  meals." — Woman's  Life. 

One  seems  to  be  doing  nothing  else. 


SSI'TKMBKB    17,    1913.]  PUNCH, 


OR 


THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


253 


c 


WMTH. 


First  Boy  (returning  from  Sunday-scliool).  "  GOING  TO  HAVE  MY  HAIB  CUT  is  HEBE  TO-MORBOW." 

Second  Boy.  "WHY  DON'T  YOUR  MOTHER  COT  IT  FOB  YOU?" 

First  Boy.  "ME  LET  A  WOMAN  CUT  MY  HAIB?    No  FEAB!    LOOK  WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  SAMSON!" 


EXIT. 

[In  Mr.  HKNBY  ABTHUB  JONES'S  new  play, 
to  be  produced  at  the  Playhouse,  the  room  in 
which  the  scene  is  set  throughout  is  provided 
with  only  one  door.] 

WHERE  are  the  dear  traditions  of  my 

youtli 

That  raised  the  worst  concocted  play 
Above  the  things  of  every  day  ? 

Exterminated,  in  the  name  of  Truth. 

The  villain  who  ejaculated  "  Ha !  " 
Gnawed  his  moustache  and  snarled 

and  smiled ; 

The  f^old&ii-haired,  confiding  child 
Who  said  his  prayers  and  saved  his 
dear  Mamma — • 

These   and    a    many    more    were   my 

delight ; 

And,   when   an    icon-smashing   age 
Ordained  that  they  must  quit  the 

stage, 
My  soul  sustained  an  almost  fatal  blight. 


And  now  the  last  attraction  is  no  rnoi'e  ; 
The  colourless,  anaamic  hordes 
Who  tread  our  "realistic"  boards 

Must  come  and  vanish  by  a  single  door ! 


Gone  is  the  agony  that  thrills  and 

numbs. 

How  shall  the  heroine  be  drugged 
If  in  a  trice  she  can't  be  lugged 

Into  concealment  ere  the  hero  comes  ? 

Gone,  too,  those  comic  scenes  that  split 

our  sides, 

In  which  Lothario  meets  his  doom 
As  library  and  dining-room 
Disgorge  together  both   his  would-be 
brides.  _.t  • 

One  thing  remains  ere  we  prepare  the 

pall 

To  drape  the  drama,  now  effete : 
Let 's  make  reality  complete 

By  adding  on  the  fourth  and'final  wall. 

The  Yorkshire  Evening  Post  on 
Doncaster  Week : — 

"  One  firm  alone,  as  the  writer  can  state  on 
authority,  are  in  the  habit  of  selling  60,000 
tons  of  Butter  Scotch  during  the  four  days." 

Assuming  a  crowd  of  300,000  on  each 
day  and  all  of  them  eating  butter 
scotch  bought  from  this  particular 
firm — a  moving  spectacle — there  would 
be  an  allowance  of  112  Ibs.  of  butter 
scotch  per  head,  or  rather  per  inside. 
It  sounds  almost  too  much. 


A  PROFESSIONAL  COMPLIMENT. 

I  WAS  very  diffident  about  calling  in 
the  doctor  in  the  first  place.  Simply 
because  four-pence  is  being  deducted, 
much  against  my  wish,  from  my  salary 
every  week,  it  someho\v  seemed  scarcely 
fair  to  expect  him  to  devote  all  the 
resources  of  his  skill  and  training  to 
the  business  of  making  me  well. 

Still  it  had  to  be  done,  and  when  he 
came  to  visit  me  in  an  expensive  motor 
car,  and  made  a  prolonged  examination 
of  me  with  the  minutest  care,  I  felt  still 
more  keenly  that  my  fourpence  a  week 
did  not  justify  it.  As  some  salve  to 
conscience,  I  determined  to  give  him 
the  least  trouble  possible,  and  so  I 
carried  out  all  his  instructions  to  the 
letter,  took  my  medicine  punctually, 
and,  indeed,  did  everything  in  iny 
power  to  make  his  task  light. 

At  last  it  was  over.  "  I  hope,  doctor, 
I  haven't  been  too  much  of  a  nuisance 
to  you,"  I  said  apologetically  to  him 
at  his  last  visit. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  exclaimed 
brightly,  "  you  've  been  positively  an 
ideal  patient !  Why,  you  really  deserve 
to  be  ill  1 " 


554 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


' 


THE    CHILDREN'S    GYMKHANA. 

IT  was  the  man  in  the  white  suit  who  organised  the 
Children's  Gymkhana  for  us,  as  he  organised  nearly  every- 
thing else  that  helped  to  make  pleasant  our  stay  m  the 
Swiss  valley.  The  project,  once  started,  leapt  and  bounded 
towards  success.  There  were  no  subscriptions.  -  Nobody 
went  round  with  a  list  and  offered  to  make  you"  a  Nice- 
President  for  twenty  francs  or  a  member  of  the  General 
Committee  for  ten  francs,  or  a  full  member  of  the  Associa- 
tion for  five  francs.  Indeed,  there  was  neither  General 
Committee  nor  Association.  The  man  in  the  white  suit 
waved  his  wand,  invited  a  friend  or  two  to  luncheon,  and, 
lo,  the  Children's  Gymkhana  sprang  into  vigorous  existence. 
Of  course  it  was  understood  that  there  were  to  he  prizes  - 
prizes  for  both  sexes  and  all  ages  of  childhood  liberally 
interpreted  to  include  boys  and  girls  of  fiftesn.  When  once 
this  great  fact  of  prizes  had  been  grasped  a  tremendous 
excitement  began  to  seethe  throughout  the  valley,  and  all 
sorts  of  possible  competitors  set  to  work  'to  train  and 
practise.  There  was  a  sensible  diminution  in* the" receipts 
of  the  tea-shop.  For  several  days  cakes  of  all  sorts  lay- 
under  a  dreadful  ban.  Cakes  with  cream  in  them  were  held 
up  to  special  execration  as  being  "bad  for  the  wind."  An 
incautious  Swiss  roll  might  easily  take  an  inch  or  two  off 
your  high  jump,  and  "  three-eyed  "Dick  "  (our  pet  name  for 
an  agreeable  sort  of  jam  biscuit)  would .bj  sure  to  rum  any- 
body's chance  for  the  girls'  three-legged  raco.  No  sterner 
exhibition  of  the  true  athletic  spirit  has  ever  bean  ssen. 

At  last  the  great,  the  wished-for  day  arrived  in  a  gor- 
geous panoply  cf  sunshine,  and  the  nations  began  to  gather 
together  on  'the  field  of  prowess.  There  were  English 
children,  American  children,  French  children,  Dutch  child- 
ren, Russian  children,  German  children,  Belgian  children, 
a  Babal  of  conflicting  tongues  and  diversified  animation, -all 
held  together  and  reduced  to  order  by  the  man  in  the  white 
suit  and  his  select  band  of  stewards.  A  jollier  or  a  more 
eager  crowd  could  not  be  met  anywhere — this  at  least  was 
the  opinion  of  the  proud  and  anxious  parents  who  sat  round 
the  course  in  various  positions  of  vantage  and  shouted 
polyglot  encouragements  to  their  young  braves.  Dimitri 
and  Etienne,  the  sturdy  sons  of  a  Colonel  in  the  TSAR'S 
body-guard,  were  there  ;  there,  too,  were  Edgar,  Arthur  and 
Lewis,  fresh-faced  representatives  of  British  boyhood,  and 
John  aged  six  and  Billy  aged  five,  who  were  to  compete  in 
the  race  (eighty  yards'  handicap)  for  children  over  five  and 
under  ten,  and  who  now  were  eyeing  one  another  with  a 
jealous  interest,  each  computing  the  athletic  points  of  his 
sturdy  rival.  There  were  two  Peggies  and  two  Betties. 
Nancy  and  Bosie  and  Joyce  and  Helen  had  entered  for 
most  events.  Nancy  and  Eosie  are  poetesses  in  their  off 
moments,  but  now  they  were  thinking  of  their  feet  rather 
than  their  rhymes,  and  indeed  showed  a  most  stubborn  and 
pedestrian  determination  to  excel  in  bodily  effort.  And, 
finally,  there  was  our  little  French  friend,  "  The  Blob." 

"  The  Blob  "  is  a  great  character,  a  very  round  and  sturdy 
little  boy  of  twelve,  in  shorts  and  stockings.  His'face  is 
plump  and  smiling,  his  body  is  thick-set,  his  legs  are  those 
of  a  conqueror.  Good  nature  and  friendliness  shine  from 
him  as  light  shines  from  the  sun,  and  his  temper  is  imper- 
turbable. His  real  name  is  Le  Poix,  but,  when  first  he 
arrived  at  the  tennis  courts  seeking  a  game,  somebody,  see- 
ing him,  said,  "  Who 's  that  funny  little  jolly  blob  of  a 
fellow  ?  "  and  the  name,  taken  up  by  the  English  boys, 
whose  sworn  friend  he  has  become,  stuck  to  him.  Now  it 
is,  "Blob,  will  you  make  up  a  four?"  or  "Blob,  will  you 
lend  me  your  racket  ?  "  and  the  little  sportsman  has  accepted 


liis  name  comfortably  and  without  a  shadow  of  protes1 
lie  too,  as  I  say,  was  there  to  defend  the  honour  of  hi 
nation  and  to  show  what  clan  really  means.  His  efforts  i1 
the  high  jump  were  magnificent.  He  looked  like  a  fool 
ball  flung  gloriously  at  the  bar — which,  by  the  way,  wa 
a  string  weighted  with  a  tennis  ball  at  either  end.  "  Th 
Blob"  did  his  be4,  but  a  tall  youngster  of  fourteen  frorr 
Haileybury  proved  too  much  for  him  and  everybody  else. 


Splendid,  too,  was  the  race  for  girls  over  ten  and  undo 
twelve.     They  got  away  to  a  capital  start,  but  soon  strun 
out.     They  tore  round  the  course,  their  hair  streaming  i 
the   wind,   so   many   comets    unpredicted ,  by.  KEPLKK   o 
HALLEY,  until  at  last  the  Peggy  comet   gleamed  to  the 
front  in  a  panting  spurt  and  won  the  desperate  race.    Othe 
encounters,  too,  there  were,  and,  for  diversion,  we  had 
three-legged  race  and  an  egg-and-spoon  race.     Never  weri 
beheld    such    complicated   lalls   as   the   thros-legged    rao 
provided.    It  is  a  marvel  that  any  limbs  survived  unbroken 
The  two  poetesses,  securely  bound  together  and  thunder! 
along  like  two  young  Clydesdales  turned  out  to  grass,  cam 
through  their  shattered  rivals  and  carried  off   the  doub 
prize.     As  for  the  egg-and-spoon  race,  I  need  only  say  tha 
the  eggs  were  mercifully  made  of  chalk.     Otherwise  th 
course  must  have  been  converted  into  an  omelette  a  I'hcrb 
a  Gargantuan  omelette  fifty  yards  long  by  ten  wide ! 


All  this  time  the  organiser  of  victory,  the  CABNOT  in  tl 
white  suit,  was,  as  it  seemed,  in  every  part  of   the  fiel( 
planning,  ordering  and  executing  with  a  busy  vigour  ths 
assured  success.     And  near  the  middle  of  the  course,  at 
table,  sat  a  kind  lady  having  at  her  feet  a  large  box  con 
taining  the  prizes.     These  she  allotted  as  the  sports  wen 
on,  selecting  for  each  event  the  particular  prize  which  si 
thought  would  be  most  acceptable  to  the  winners.     Thu 
every  winner  was  delighted  when  at  last  the  distrihutio 
came.     Indeed  it  seemed  to  be  a  magic  box,  inexhaustib 
in  appropriate  prizes,  so  that,  when  all  the  firsts  and  seconc 
had  been  satisfied,  there  still  remained  consolation  prizr 
for  nearly  all  the  rest.     We  wound  up  a  memorable  cosm< 
politan  day  with  cheers  for  everybody,  including  three 
the  best  for  the  man  in  the  white  suit.  E.  C.  L. 


SPEYSIDE. 

A  LAND  full  of  the  lilt  of  running  streams, 

The  Highland  scents  of  peat  and  whin  and  fir, 

The  crested  hills  like  giants  in  their  dreams, 
The  light  airs,  heather-sweetened  as  of  myrrh, 

The  golden  sunshine  flashing  out  in  gleams 
And  all  the  clouds  astir. 

A  place  where  many  things  may  dwell  and  hide  :- 
The  little  Brownies,  timorous  of  the  din 

Of  mortal  men ;  dead  reiver-folk  who  ride 
Abroad  o'  nights  ;  a  kelpie  at  the  lynn ; 

Witches  and  warlocks — ay,  and  more  beside, 
May  find  a  howff  herein. 

A  land  where  faery  fancies  have  their  wills — 
A  gallant  land  besides,  where  you  and  I, 

Calling  a  truce  with  books  and  briefs  and  bills, 
Tarry  a  space  to  cast  the  luring  fly, 

Or  walk  in  wariness  upon  the  hills 

That  small  red  birds  may  die. 


The  Temptation. 

"Grocer's  Porter:    wanted  a  strict  T.T.,  who  will  bo  liberj 
treated." — Freeman's  Journal. 


SEFTK.MUKB  17,  1913.'  I'l'NCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


255 


NeigJi'jour.  "AND  HOW'S  YEB  GUID  MAN  THIS  MOKXIX',  MRS.  TAMSOX?"  Mrs.  Tamson.  "HE  DEED  LAST  KICHT." 

Neighbour.  "  I  'M  BEAL  BOBBY  TO  HEAB,  THAT.    YE'LL  NO  BEMEMBEB  IF  HE  HAPPENED  TO  SAY  OXYTHING  ABOOT  A  roi  o*  GBEES 

PAINT   BEFMIE  HE   SLIPPET  AWA  ?  " 


HIGHER  TRAINING  FOR 

BUSINESS. 

UNDER  this  heading  The  Daily 
Ti'lcyraph  discusses  the  scheme  of  a 
well-known  emporium  for  a  course  of 
special  education,  with  scholarships, 
for  shop-assistants.  Heartily  approving 
the  idea,  we  give  below  some  suggested 
points  from  the  examination  papers, 

MATHEMATICAL. 

(1)  If  one  woman  takes  2J  hours  to 
match  one  piece  of  silk,  how  long  will 
six  men  take  to  buy  twelve  ties  ? 

(2)  From  two  shillings  subtract  "  one 
eleven   three "   giving    the    answer  in 
terms  of  (a)  actual  money ;  (b)  customer- 
traction. 

(3)  State    the    rules    of    reduction. 
How  can  an  article  whose  usual  price 
is  5s.  be  reduced  to  6s.  3d.  ? 

LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL. 

(1)  Explain,  with  speaker  and  context 
;  The  remnant  of  an  army." 

"  A  sale,  a  sale,  we  are  saved  ! " 

(2)  With  what  famous  events  is  the 
Paris  Louvre  associated  in  your  mind  ? 
At  what  period   was   the   custom    of 
presenting  toy  balloons  first  instituted  ? 


(3)  Write  a  short  essay  on  "  Counter- 
irritants." 

GENERAL. 

A  customer  enters  a  shop  at  11.15  to 
buy  a  packet  of  pins,  and  leaven  at 
12.30  having  purchased  a  sable  3oat. 
Trace  her  progress  (with  diagram  if 
necessary). 

ONCE  UPON  A  TIME. 
ADVANCE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little 
boy  who  asked  his  father  if  NERO  was 
a  bad  man. 

"  Thoroughly  bad,"  said  his  father. 

Once  upon  a  time,  many  years  later, 
there  was  another  little  boy  who  asked 
his  father  if  NERO  was  a  bad  man. 

"  I  don't  know  that  one  would 
exactly  say  that,"  replied  his  father; 
"  but  he  certainly  had  his  less  felicitous 
moments." 

"Car  No.  1073  after  colliding  with  the 
Maha  Mudaliyar's  car  went  against  a  lamp 
post  smashing  it  and  also  the  lamp.  The 
Maha  Mudaliyar,  who  was  in  his  car  at  the 
time,  escaped  with  a  slight  thanking." 

The  Ceylonesf. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  Maha.     "  Any 
time  you're  passing." 


A  PASSIONATE  PROTEST. 

DEAR  SIR, — When  I  heard  that  The 
Daily  Mirror  had  started  a  Woman's 
Olympic  Games  Fund,  I  naturally  con- 
cluded it  was  for  the  use  of  competitors 
of  my  own  sex.  As  soon  as  I  realised 
the  money  was  to  be  spent  in  training 
our  natural  enemies,  my  indignation 
was  equalled  only  by  my  scorn. 

From  experience  in  militant  en- 
counters, I  have  found  that  men  are 
quite  muscular  enough,  and,  while  I 
have  strength  to  lift  my  voice  or  my 
pen,  women's  wages  shall  never  go  to 
bolster  men's  biceps. 

No,  Sir,  the  whole  proposition 
smacks  (to  use  an  appropriate  expres- 
sion) of  sheer  insolence.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  you  choose  to  show  sufficient 
foresight  as  to  open  a  fund,  yourself, 
to  train  young  Englishmen  to  darn 
their  socks,  make  their  beds  and  sweep 
their  cigarette  ash  off  their  mothers' 
carpets,  I  shall  be  pleased  not  only  to 
contribute  myself,  but  to  arrange  for  a 
collecting-box  to  be  placed  in  the  lobby 
of  my  club. 

Yours  faithfully, 

SPINSTER 
(and  proud  of  it). 


266 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.         [SEPTKMP™  17,  1913. 


THE   DIFFICULTIES  OF  BEING 
A    MOTHER. 

WHI-.N  Eustace  ami  Adeline  came  to 
us,  ii^'cd  throo  mouths  and  very  weak 
on  their  legs,  they  cost  seventeen- 
and-sixpence,  with  a  shilling  extra  for 
packing,  and  we  thought  them  very 
dear  at  the  price.  That  is  a  year  ago. 
Now  Adeline  is  an  older  and  a  sadder 
duck. 

It  happened  this  way.  When  the 
shiny  days  came  of  the  opening  year, 
Adeline  mado  up  her  mind  to  have  a 
family.  Sho  took  to  absenting  herself 
mysteriously,  and  one  day  we  found 
six  greeny  eggs  in  quite  a  nice  place. 
The  six  became  eight,  and  the  eight 
ten,  and  the  ten  twelve,  and  we  began 
to  ask  anxiously  whether  Adeline  didn't 
consider  it  any  part  of  her  duty  to  sit 
on  them.  When  she  had  made  it 
thirteen,  for  luck,  she  made  it  clear 
that  she  didn't,  by  becoming  quite 
regular  for  meals  again ;  so  we  took 
away  her  eggs  and  gave  them  to  a 
broody  hen.  The  broody  hen  had  the 
tomato-house  to  herself  for  three  weeks 
and  five  days,  during  which  she  never 
moved  except  when  we  moved  her  to 
see  how  the  eggs  were  getting  on,  and 
on  the  sixth  day  in  the  fourth  week, 
towards  evening,  she  was  rather  sud- 
denly found  to  be  sharing  it  with  nine 
active  ducklings,  who  didn't  surprise 
her  in  the  least.  But  what  was  our 
heroine  doing  all  this  time  ?  Well,  if 
you  must  know,  our  heroine  had  started 
all  over  again  on  another  family,  in  a 
new  place.  I  suppose  she  took  a  dislike 
to  the  first  lot,  or  to  the  first  place,  or 
something.  At  least,  those  were  the 
theories.  But  Eustace  or  somebody 
must  have  told  her  that  she  had 
left  out  the  most  important  part,  for 
this  time  she  took  her  job  much  more 
seriously.  She  only  came  off  ft  once  a 
day,  at  five  o'clock  precisely,  and  then 
we  always  thought  she  would  choke 
herself,  because  all  the  time  she  ate  she 
fairly  screamed  with  self-importance 
and  anxiety  to  be  off,  or  1  suppose  I 
should  say  to  be  on.  I  should  also  tell 
you  that  she  had  stopped  at  six  this 
time  ;  I  suppose  Eustace  had  suggested 
moderation. 

And  now  for  purposes  of  clearness  I 
shall  have  to  speak  of  Family  Number 
Two  and  Family  Number  One.  Even 
then  it  is  as  complicated  as  a  novel  by 
ARNOLD  BENNETT.  For  one  morning, 
at  breakfast  time,  at  the  end  of  the 
third  week  and  the  fifth  day,  Adeline 
came  paddling  down  the  river  with  a 
perfect  little  flotilla,  all  asking  if  break- 
fast was  ready.  It  wasn't  quite  perfect, 
though,  because  there  were  only  five 
in  the  squadron,  and  as  there  was 
nothing  but  cast-off  egg-shells  in  the 


nest  she  must  have  lost  one  on  tho 
way  down  to  breakfast.  The  armada 
suffered  another  loss  directly  after  break- 
fast. It  happened  like  this:  obeying 
her  instinct  to  take  her  family  to  the 
finest  possible  pastures,  she  set  off  down 
the  river  ever  so  far,  and  when  she 
came  back  she  had  only  four.  I  think 
she  must  have  noticed  something  this 
time,  because  Eustace  was  sent  off  in 
a  great  hurry  downstream,  and  he 
didn't  come  back  until  the  evening,  but 
he  hadn't  found  anything. 

And  now,  reader,  we  must  go  hack  a 
little  and  see  for  a  moment  what  Family 
Number  One  is  doing.  (You  remember 
— the  nine.)  It  is  being  sat  upon  by 
its  foster-mother.  But  what  is  this  ? 
How  unaccountably  has  it  dwindled ! 
Yes,  they  all  lived  for  a  week,  and  then, 
whether  it  was  that  with  years  of  dis- 
cretion came  questioning  doubts  as  to 
whether  the  broody  hen  really  was  their 
mother  or  whether  their  house  wasn't 
so  good  for  little  ducks  as  it  was  for 
little  tomatoes,  one  by  one  they  took  to 
dying,  quite  regularly,  one  a  day,  almost 
as  though  someone  had  told  them  the 
story  of  the  nigger-boys.  On  the  day 
before  the  Second  Family's  arrival, 
Adeline's  First  Family  was  down  to  two. 
And  she  had  never  seen  it !  From  her 
subsequent  conduct  I  imagine,  if  she  had 
seen  it,  she  would  have  regarded  the 
whole  thing  as  a  great  mistake.  She 
would  have  taken  the  line  that  she 
didn't  ever  mean  that  first  lot  to  be  a 
family,  because  she  had  thought  of  a 
better  one. 

It  is  time  to  say  that  this  is  going  to 
be  a  tragedy.  It  is  going  to  have  a 
Eecognition  scene,  just  like  EURIPIDES, 
and  then  it  is  going  to  end  in  the  most 
complete  and  utter  tragedy.  But  before 
that  comes  there  is  going  to  be  one 
happy  scene,  so  you  may  read  a  little 
further.  Adeline's  Second  Family 
arrived  on  a  Saturday,  and  the  next 
day  was  a  Sunday — the  first  of  the  real 
shiny  Sundays.  You  should  have  seen 
her  with  that  Second  Family  !  Eustace 
took  himself  off  for  the  whole  day ; 
I  suppose  he  felt  he  had  done  as  much 
the  day  before  as  could  be  reasonably 
expected  of  him.  She  was  as  happy 
with  the  four  of  them  and  as  pleased 
with  herself  as  though  four  was  the 
perfect  number  and  she  had  taken  great 
pains  to  trim  it  down  to  four.  She 
dived,  and  the  four  dived,  she  went 
ashore  and  cleaned  herself,  and  the  four 
went  ashore  and  cleaned  themselves, 
and  then  she  sat  and  just  looked  at 
them  in  the  sunshine  while  they  chased 
the  water-spiders  who  were  enjoying 
their  own  little  day.  We  prepared  the 
scene  of  confrontation.  There  were  two 
ducklings  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood, 
swimming  about,  in  spite  of  their  three 


weeks  in  the  tomato  house.  But,  bless 
you,  Adeline  gave  one  look  at  the  bank, 
where  a  great  clucking  was  coming 
from,  and  decided  that  it  was  no  wonder 

mother  like  that  had  such  hideous 
little  children.  She  wouldn't  have 
anything  to  do  with  them.  The  recog- 
nition scene  had  been  a  failure. 

All  that  day  we  said  at  intervals  to  one 
another  that  if  their  life  was  going  to 
bo  a  short  one  it  had  been  merry 
anyhow.  The  next  morning  they  were 
still  four.  They  ate  their  breakfast  as 
usual.  In  the  evening  three  little 
bodies  were  high-and-dry  in  some  thick 
scum  where  the  fish-net  is,  and  Adeline 
was  looking  surprised  to  have  only  one. 
I  suppose  she  had  obeyed  those  instincts 
of  hers  again  and  taken  her  family  to  a 
perfectly  splendid  pasture  which  had 
choked  three  of  them.  I  don't  think 
she  noticed  anything  seriously  wrong 
until  the  next  morning.  Eustace  (who 
had  turned  up  again,  looking  not  quite 
sober),  and  she  and  it  were  taking 
breakfast  together.  Now  I  must  intro- 
duce you  to  Jack  Hearue.  There  is 
nothing  irrelevant  in  this ;  he  is  not  the 
Middlesex  bowler;  he  is  a  heron,  and 
that  is  his  proper  name  in  this  county. 
Before  this  fatal  Tuesday  I  should  have 
introduced  him  to  you  as  a  tame  heron. 
Now  it  is  impossible.  For  Jack  Hearne, 
walking  past  on  the  way  to  his  own 
breakfast,  finished  off  Adeline's  Second 
Family  at  a  mouthful.  We  think,  we 
like  to  think,  it  was  a  mistake  on  his 
part.  Herons  will  act  so  rashly.  But 
that  doesn't  bring  back  Adeline's 
Second  Family.  She  finished  her 
breakfast  and  turned  round  and  dis- 
tinctly noticed  it  had  gone.  Her  grief 
is  terrible.  We  don't  think  she  would 
have  noticed  anything  wrong  if  Jack 
Hearne  had  left  her  with  her  one.  But 
now  she  sits  all  day  on  the  river-hank 
and  refuses  to  be  comforted. 

You  will  notice  that  this  is  an  almost 
perfect  tragedy  because  there  is  tho 
element  of  hope  left  at  the  end.  For- 
tinbras  and  Horatio,  of  her  First  Family, 
still  live.  Will  she  ever  recognise  them, 
or  will  she  go  on  mistaking  them  for 
chickens,  until,  taking  heart,  she  begins 
her  own  task  of  motherhood  all  over 
again  ?  We  do  not  know ;  we  only 
know  that  we  do  not  any  longer  think 
seventeen-and-sixpence  too  dear  for  a 
pair  of  healthy  ducklings  raised  success- 
fully to  the  age  of  three  months,  even 
with  the  addition  of  a  shilling  extra  for 
packing. 

The   Latest  Continental  Flight. 

"  Sunday.  Morning  service  at  Crcwthwaite. 
Canon  Rawnslcy  kindly  pilots  us  to  Shelley's 
grave." — British  Weekly. 

And  they  got  hack  from  Borne  in  time 
for  the  evening  service. 


SEPTEMBER  17,  1913.]          PUNCH,    OH    TIIK    LONDON    CIIARIVAU. 


257 


INTENSIVE    CULTURE. 

Scientific  Chicken  Farmer.  "YES,  YOU  WEBB  BIGHT.  THE  PILTEBED  AND  ICED  WATEB,  THE  ELECTRIC  FANS  AND  THE  HOT-WATEB 
PIPE  PKRCHES  DIDN'T  SEEM  TO  TOUCH  'EM  ;  THE  FBENCH  COOKING,  THE  GBAMOPHONE  DUBINO  MEALS,  AND  THE  CINEMA  on  WET  DAYS 
LEFT  'EM  COLD;  BUT  BY  GEOBGE,  OLD  MAN,  THE  HENS  DO  APPRECIATE  THAT  MOVING  STAIRCASE.  SINCE  ITS  INSTALLATION  THE  EGO 
OUTPUT  HAS  INCREASED  90  PEB  CENT." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
WHAT  I  chiefly  felt  about  With  Drums  Unmuffled  (MILLS 
AND  BOON)  was  that  it  was  the  work  of  an  author  with  a 
considerable  gift  of  expression,  much  charm  of  manner,  and 
(hero  at  least)  insufficient  matter  upon  which  to  employ  it. 
Ij.  A.  BUHGKSS  gives  upon  the  title-page  no  indication  of 
sex,  but  I  will  make  a  bold  shot  for  it  that  the  writer  is 
feminine.  Her  title  itsslf — at  first  somewhat  obscure — has 
reference  to  the  military  practice  of  marching  back  from  a 
funeral  to  the  accompaniment  of  some  lively  tune.  There 
is  indeed  a  pleasantly  service  atmosphere  about  the  whole  of 
i  ho  simple  tale,  which  concerns  the  life  and  mild  loves  of  a 
group  of  persons  stationed  at  Gibraltar.  There  are  two 
heroines,  the  young  army  nurse  who  tells  the  stoiy,  and 
Hunan  Pickle,  the  country-bred  nursery-maid  of  Major 
Traccy's  little  daughter.  Each  has  her  romance,  that  of 
the  former  running  so  uneventfully  smooth  a  course  that 
the  author  has  been  forced  to  fret  it  with  quite  the  thinnest 
and  most  artificial  misunderstanding  that  I  ever  remember. 
Hasan's  is  a  different  affair ;  she  is  indeed  far  the  most 
clearly  individualised  character  in  the  book,  and  her  devotion 
to  the  unworthy  cad  whom  she  loves  is  told  with  a  sympathy 
that  makes  me  expect  considerable  things  from  L.  A. 
BURGESS  in  the  future.  For  the  present,  however,  she  has 
written  just  a  mildly  pleasant  tale,  one  that  may  be  gently 
enjoyed  both  by  those  familiar  with  the  life  it  describes  and 
, those  to  whom  it  is  strange — the  former  for  choice. 


Mr.  NEVINSON'S  Essays  in  Rebellion  (NISBET)  are  con- 
cerned with  all  manner  of  vital  things  that  divide  serious 
folk,  from  war  to  the  hunger  of  the  poor.  It  is  a  gallant 
little  book  such  as  might  be  expected  from  one  who  has 
taken  his  life  in  his  hands  in  sundry  quixotries  of  the  last 
twenty  odd  years.  There  are  two  keynotes.  One  from 
GOETHE  :  "  For  myself,  I  am  happy  enough.  Joy  comes 
streaming  in  upon  me  from  every  side.  Only,  for  others, 
I  am  not  happy."  The  other  is  contained  in  the  parable  of 
"  The  Catfish,"  which  serves  as  the  first  of  the  essays.  Now 
the  catfish  used  to  be  put  in  the  tanks  of  the  East  Coast 
fishing  boats  in  order  that  his  lively  and  stimulating  activi- 
ties should  keep  the  cod  in  health,  which  else  were  observed 
to  fall  torpid  and  arrive  for  market  flabby  and  unwholesome. 
Mr.  NEVINSON  is  an  excellent  catfish,  a  genuine  rebel  radical 
with  opinions  cut  to  no  mere  party  pattern.  He  pours  out 
a  fine  scorn  on  the  complacent  type  that  welcomes  rebellion 
— after  the  successful  event.  For  himself  he  is  content  to 
be  champion  of  all  unpopular  causes,  of  all  subject  peoples. 
This  very  consistency  of  his  attitude  is  a  defect  of  his 
generous  qualities.  He  sees  life  too  symmetrically,  as  a 
matter  of  sheep  and  goats  in  their  divided  pens.  For  in- 
stance :  "  Do  the  people  call  the  tune  of  peace  or  war  ? 
Not  at  all.  The  ruling  classes  both  call  the  tune  and  pocket 
the  pay."  Whatever  of  truth  is  here  needs  qualification. 
Mr.  NEVINSON  never  qualifies.  He  knows  enough  of  war 
to  hat3  it  and  has  hope  of  some  modification  of  present 
insanities  along  the  lines  of  Mr.  ANGELL'S  well-known  thesis. 
"  It  will  become  either  civil  war — the  most  terrible  but  the 


258 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHAEIVAPJ.  [SEPTEMBER  17,  1913. 


finest  kind  of  war  because  some  principle  of  the  highest 
value  must  be  at  stake  before  civil  war  can  arise — or  it  will 
become  a  combined  war  between  the  classes  of  various 
countries  between  whom  there  is  a  feeling  of  sympathy  and 
common  interest."  And  this  sentence  involves  a  good  deal 
of  what  is  most  characteristic  in  the  thought  of  this  latter- 
day  rebel.  There  are  many  good  things  in  this  book,  grave 
and  gay.  It  is  really  a  compliment  to  the  author  to  note 
that  the  grave  are  the  more  effective.  Most  of  all  I  would 
commend  "  The  Heroine,"  some  extremely  apposite  thoughts 
concerning  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE,  to  those  who  have  the 
temperamental  hatred  of  new  things. 

"The  most  dreadful  and  baffling  of  all  the  unsolved 
murder  mysteries  in  English  criminal  annals,"  of  which 
The  Lodger  (METHUEN)  is  said  to  suggest  a  solution,  is,  I 
take  it,  the  performance  of  the  once  notorious  but  now 
almost  forgotten  JACK  THE  HIPPER.  Had  the  learned  author 
thought  of  her  ingenious  explanation  at  the  time,  no  doubt 
she  would  have  expressed  it  in  a  letter  to  the  Press ;  and 
some  would  have  said  it  was 
probably  right,  others  that  it 
was  certainly  wrong,  while 
all  would  have  abused  the 
Police  for  not  thinking  of  it, 
and  no  one  would  have 
known  how  much  truth  was 
in  it,  except  JACK  himself. 
But  correspondence  on  the 
subject  being  now  closed, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  revive  the  mystery  in  a 
fictitious  parallel  and  to  solve 
that.  I  wish  the  author  had 
set  about  her  business  in  this 
order,  instead  of  bursting 
out  with  the  solution  in  the 
first  chapters  and  leaving 
the  mystery  to  state  itself 
subsequently.  Myself,  I  am 
always  ready  to  take  part 
in  a  really  good  murder, 
but  I  have  too  much  re- 
spect for  crime  to  see  it 
treated  thus  off-hand  and  by  the  way  ;  and  when  the 
dastardly  deed  is  being  repeated  at  regular  intervals 
throughout  the  book,  I  am  more  than  reluctant  to  con- 
centrate upon  the  private  feelings  of  Mrs.  Bunting,  or 
any  other  lodging-house  keeper,  or  upon  the  homely 
romance  of  the  detective  who  should  have  been  wholly 
occupied  in  tracking  down  the  miscreant.  Had  Daisy  been 
a  victim  I  would  gladly  have  assisted  in  her  matrimonial 
affairs;  but  she  was  never  within  a  mile  of  it.  Instead, 
she  merely  gets  in  the  way,  and,  every  time  there  is  a 
sudden  loud  knock  at  the  lodging-house  door,  it  is  only  her 
tiresome  lover  come  for  a  purpose  no  more  sinister  than 'to 
pay  his  irrelevant  respects.  I  was  not  allowed  to  be  present 
at  any  of  the  murders ;  I  was  not  even  introduced  to  one  of 
the  murdered;  how  then  can  I  be  expected  to  say  a  kind 
word  for  a  murderer  who  was  not  suspected  or  arrested  and 
did  not  cause  anyone  else  to  be  suspected  or  arrested  in  his 
stead  ?  I  regret  to  have  to  add  that  the  author  who  has  so 
trifled  with  my  affection  for  the  gruesome  is  no  other  than 
my  admired  Mrs.  BELLOC-LOWNDES. 


And  sailed  straight  into  a  lurid  squall 
Of  mutinous  oaths  and  musket-ball — 
You  know  the  type  ?     Whenever,  I  say, 
A  story  of  this  kind  comes  my  way 
All  else  is  abandoned,  and  down  I  sit 
And  then  and  there  I  am  on  to  it. 
People,  period,  place  of  the  quest 
The  author  may  settle  as  he  thinks  best, 
But,  whatsoever  the  form  it  take, 
One  proviso  I  always  make — • 
The  find,  when  the  questers  do  unearth  it, 
211  list  be  something  that 's  really  worth  it. 

And  that 's  where  HAMILTON  DEUMMOND'S  tale, 

Winds  of  God  (PAUL),  seems  to  fail. 

It 's  told  with  charm  ;  there  are  thrills  enough  ; 

The  heroine  's  tender,  the  hero  tough  ; 

The  brave  ship's  company  lacks  no  brawn ; 

Most  of  their  number  are  deftly  drawn, 

But  the  paltry  sum  that  they  fetch  away 's 

A  scandalous  slur  on  the  good 
old  days. 


UNRECORDED  ACTS  OF  KINDNESS. 
JULIUS    CESAR   ALLEVIATES   THE    SUFFERINGS    OF   A   WOUNDED 

SOLDIER  BY  READING  HIS   COMMENTARIES  TO   HIM. 


Whenever  I  read  of  a  quest  for  gold — 
The  kind  that  happened  in  days  of  old, 
When  someone,  finding  a  cryptic  clue, 
Chartered  a  ship  with  a  cut-throat  crew, 


Humbly  I  bow  the  knee  to 
Mr.  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS  ;  at 
last  I  throw  up  the  sponge 
and  confess  that,  although 
he  seems  to  find  no  difficulty 
in  writing  fresh  tales  about 
Dartmoor,  I  am  on  my  beam 
ends  to  avoid  repetition  in 
criticising  them.  Fifteen 
short  stories  are  contained 
in  The  Old  Time  Before  Them 
(MURRAY),  and  with  such 
ease  does  Mr.  PHILLPOTTS 
tell  them,  that  it  would  not 
surprise  me  in  the  least  to 
hear  that  he  has  several 
reserve  fifteens  ready  to  appear  in  the  field.  The  tales  are 
put  into  the  mouth  of  Johnny  Rowland,  landlord  of  "  The 
Plume  of  Feathers,"  who  was  both  a  publican  and  a  bit  of 
a  sinner.  For  although  Johnny's  own  beverage  was  "  dry 
ginger,"  he  practised  various  amusing  devices  to  induce  his 
customers  to  settle  down  to  bibulous  evenings.  The  Old 
Time  Before  Them  neither  harms  nor  improves  its  author's 
reputation,  and  doubtless  it  will  provide  a  fund  of  amuse- 
ment for  those  who  are  not  weary  of  the  shrewd  sayings 
and  rather  grim  humour  of  the  Dartmoor  natives. 


Good 


Fifteen    thousand! 

Lord !     Why,  I  'm 
Paid  nearly  that  for  this 

trifling  rhyme  1 


"The  Terriers'  team  won  the  toss,  and  elected  to  bat  first,  and  thi 
Reserves,  captained  by  Ssrgeant  Favvsitt,  won  the  toss  and  elected  t< 
bat  first."- — Orpinyton  Times. 

Sergeant  Fawsitt.  Heads  it  is.     Wo  '11  go  in. 
Terrier  Captain  (indignantly).  I  distinctly  heard  you  sa; 
tails.     (Left  arguing.) 


"Altogether  he   obtained  four  G's  and  nineteen  4's,  and  his  onl 
mistake  was  when  52  Humphreys  missed  him  in  the  deep  field." 

Glasgow  Herald. 

The  luncheon  interval  sometimes  has  this  eS'ect.  Thoug' 
it  may  have  seemed  like  fifty-two  HUMPHREYS  to  th 
reporter,  it  was  actually  only  one. 


SEPTEMBER  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


259 


s 

Nervous  Assistant  [to  purchaser  of  grand  piano).  "CAN  WE  SEND  IT  FOB  you?" 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  visit  of  British  M.P.'s  to  Aus- 
tralia does  not  appear  to  be  arousing 
a  great  deal  of  enthusiasm  there. 
According  to  lieuter's  despatch  from 
Sydney,  "  The  British  parliamentary 
visitors  were  accorded  a  civil  reception 
at  Newcastle."  We  fancy  they  expected 
something  more  than  this. 

*    ••':• 
* 

At  the  Russian  Olympic  meeting  at 
Kieff  the  prize  for  the  high  jump  was 
won  by  Mile.  POPOVA.  With  superb 
reticence  \ve  make  no  comment. 

The  POET  LAUREATE  is  said  to  be 
writing  a  poem  on  the  approaching 
royal  wedding.  The  fact  that  "  Fife  " 
rhymes  so  easily  with  "  wife  "  renders 
the  task  more  simple  than  usual. 

"  Sir  Herbert  Tree,"  says  The  Daily 
Sketch,  "  is  not  what  we  would  call  a 
superstitious  man.  He  has  no  mascot, 
for  instance,  like  Mr.  Cyril  Maude." 
Possibly,  however,  he  has  one  like  a 
Teddy  Bear?  „.  * 
* 

Professor    DICKSON,   in    an    address 


delivered  at  the  meeting  of  the  British 
Association,  expressed  the  view  that 
our  food  supply  may  only  last  for  three 
centuries  more.  May  we,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances, beg  all  little  boys  to  be  as 

sparing  as  possible  in  their  diet? 
$  $ 

Suffragettes  damaged  the  bowling- 
green  of  the  South  Croydon  Club  last 
week  by  burning  the  words  "  Votes  for 
Women  "  into  the  turf.  The  rumour 
that  this  has  produced  many  converts 
among  the  members  lacks  confirmation. 

The  Durban  correspondent  of  The 
Standard  tells  us  that  the  performance 
of  "  ismet "  by  Mr.  OSCAR  ASCHE'S  com- 
pany there  has  bean  causing  trouble. 

It  is  obviously  not  O.K. 
*  * 

"  A  Householder  "  writes  us  a  word  in 
favour  of  the  cinematograph.  For  the 
second  time  in  his  life,  he  says,  he  has 
had  to  carry  a  drunken  and  struggling 
cook  out  of  his  house.  On  the  first 
occasion,  which  happened  about  ten 
years  ago,  a  huge  and  excited  crowd 
collected.  Last  week,  however,  the 
incident  attracted  little  attention, 
passers-by  merely  imagining  that  a 


cinematograph  rehearsal  of  L'Enlere- 

mcnt  d'Helene  was  taking  place. 

*  * 

Garters  with  flap  pockets  have,  \ve 
read,  been  invented  by  an  American 
hosiery  manufacturer  to  aid  women  in 
carrying  jewellery  or  money.  We 
understand  that,  so  long  as  slit  skirts 
are  the  vogue,  pick-pockets  will  not 
lodge  a  protest  against  this  new  con- 
trivance. -r:  * 
'  * 

The  Rev.  BOYD  MORISON,  of  Darling- 
ton, pleads  for  more  comfort  in  churches, 
and  suggests  that  the  seating  accom- 
modation might  be  made  more  luxuri- 
ous. Uncomfortable  seats  undoubtedly 
account  for  much  of  the  insomnia  from 
which  many  church-goers  suffer  during 
the  sermon. 

The  Daily  Express  is  taking  the  lead 
in  the  campaign  against  sensational 
head-lines.  Consider,  for  instanc ;,  the 
following  paragraph  in  a  recent  issue : — 

"  M.  Coulon,  who  lives  at  Montlucon,  wears 
a  beard  which  is  three  yards  thirty  inches 
long." 

Our  contemporary    heads    this    quite 
simply  "  Five  foot  beard." 


260 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON1   CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBEB  24,  1913. 


THE    ORDER    OF     THE    BATH. 

"  WE  must  really  do  something  about 
the  bath,"  said  Celia. 

"  We  must,"  I  agreed. 

At  present  what  we  do  is  this. 
Punctually  at  six-thirty  or  nine  or 
whenever  it  is,  Celia  goes  in  to  make 
herself  clean  and  beautiful  for  the  new 
day,  while  I  amuse  myself  with  a  razor. 
After  a  quarter-of-an-hour  or  so  she 
gives  a  whistle  to  imply  that  the  bath- 
room is  now  vacant,  and  I  give  another 
one  to  indicate  that  I  have  only  cut 
myself  once.  I  then  go  hopefully  in 
and  find  that  the  bath  is  half-full  of 
water;  whereupon  I  go  back  to  my 
room  and  engage  in  Dr.  HUGH  DE 
SKLINCOURT'S  physical  exercises  for  the 
middle-aged.  After  these  are  over  I 
take  another  look  at  the  bath,  discover 
that  it  is  now  three-eighths  full,  and 
return  to  my  room  and  busy  myself  with 
Dr.  ARCHIBALD  MARSHALL'S  mental 
drill  for  busy  men.  By  the  time  I 
have  committed  three  Odes  of  HORACE 
to  memory,  it  may  bo  low  tide  or  it 
may  not ;  if  not,'  1  sit  on  the  edge  of 
the  bath  with  the  daily  paper  and  read 
about  the  latest  strike — my  mind  occu- 
pied equally  with  wondering  when  the 
water  is  going  out  and  when'  the  'bus- 
men are.  And  the  thought  that  Celia 
is  now  in  the  dining-room  eating  more 
than  her. share  of  the  toast  does  not 
console  me  in  the  least. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  it 's  absurd  to  go  on 
like  this.  You  had  better' see  about  it 
to-day,  Celia." 

"  I  don't  think — I  mean,  I  think — 
you  know,  it  |s  really  your  turn  to  do 
something  for  the  bath-room." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  turn  ? 
Didn't  I  buy  the  glass  shelves  for  it? 
You'd  never  even  heard  of  glass 
shelves." 

"  Well,  who  put  them  up  after  they  'd 
been  lying  about  for  a  month  ?  "  said 
Celia.  "  I  did." 

"  And  who  bumped  his  head  .against 
them  the  next  day '?  I  did." 

"  Yes,  but  that  wasn't  really  a  useful 
thing  to  do.  It 's  your  turn  to  be  useful." 

"  Celia,  this  is  mutiny.  All  house- 
hold matters  are  supposed  to  be  looked 
after  by  you.  I  do  the  brain-work  ;  I 
earn  the  money  ;  I  cannot  be  bothered 
with  these  little  domestic  worries.  I 
have  said  so  before." 

"  I  sort  of  thought  you  had." 

You  know,  I  am  afraid  that  is  true. 
We  are,  indeed,  often  having  these 
little  arguments  as  to  whose  turn  it  is 
to  be  useful.  We  had  one  about  Jane's 
insurance  card.  Celia  got  it  in  the  end, 
but  only  after  I  had  been  very  firm 
about  it. 

"  After  all,"  she  said,  "  the  drinks  are 
in  your  department." 


"Hock,  perhaps,"  I  said;  "soapy 
water,  no.  There  is  a  difference." 

"  Not  very  much,"  said  Celia. 

By  the  end  of  another  week  I  was 
getting  seriously  alarmed.  I  began  to 
fear  that  unless  I  watched  it  very  care- 
fully I  should  be  improving  myself  too 
much. 

"  While  the  water  was  running  out 
this  morning,"  I  said  to  Celia,  as  I 
started  my  breakfast  just  about  lunch- 
time,  "  I  got  Paradise  Lost  off  by  heart 
and  made  five  hundred  and  ninety-six 
revolutions  with  the  back  paws.  And 
then  I  had  to  shave  myself  again. 
What  a  life  for  a  busy  man  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  if  you  know  that  it's 
no — 

"  Begin  again,"  I  said. 

" that   it's  no  good  waiting  for 

the  last  inch  or  two  to  go  out  by  itself. 
Because  it  won't.  You  have  to  —  to 
lioosli  it  out." 

"  I  do.  And  I  sit  on  the  taps  looking 
like  a  full  moon  and  try  to  draw  it  out. 
But  it's" no  good.  We  had  a  neap  tide 
to-day  and  1  had  to  hoosh  four  inches. 
Jolly." 

Celia  gave  a  sigh  of  resignation. 

"  All  right,"  she  said,  "  I'll  go  to  the 
plumber  to-day." 

"  Not  the  plumber,"  I  begged.  "On 
the  contrary.  The  plumber  is  the  man 
who's/ops  the  leaks.  What  we  really 
want  is  an  unplumber." 

We  fell  into  silence  again. 

"  But  how  silly  we  are  !  "  cried  Celia 
suddenly.     "Of  course!" 
'."  What 's  the  matter  now  ?  " 

"  The  bath  is  the  landlord's  business ! 
Write  and  tell  him." 

"  But— but  what  shall  I  say  ?  "  Some- 
how I  knew  Celia  would  put  it  on  to 
me.  . 

"  Why,  just — say.  When  you  're  pay- 
ing the  rent,  you  know." 

"I— I  see." 

I  retired  to  the  library  and  thought 
it  out.  I  hate  writing  business  letters. 
The  result  is  a  mixture  of  formality  and 
chattiness  which  seems  to  me  all  wrong. 

My  first  letter  to  the  landlord  went 
like  this : — 

"  DBAH  SIB, — I  enclose  cheque  in 
payment  of  last  quarter's  rent.  Our 
bath  won't  run  out  properly.  Yours 
faithfully." 

It  is  difficult  to  say  just  what  is 
wrong  with  that  letter,  and  yet  it 
is  obvious  that  something  has  hap- 
pened to  it.  It  isn't  right.  I  tried 
again. 

"DEAR  SIR, — Enclosed  please  find 
cheque  in  payment  of  enclosed  account. 
I  must  ask  you  either  to  enlarge  the  exit 
to  our  bath  or  to  supply  an  emergency 
door.  At  present  my  morning  and 
evening  baths  are  in  serious  danger  of 
clashing.  Yours  faithfully." 


My  third  attempt  had  more  sting  in 
it :— - 

"  DJOAR  Sin, — Unless  you  do  some- 
thing to  our  bath  I  cannot  send  vou  a 
cheque  in  payment  of  enclosed  account. 
Otherwise  I  would  have.  Yours  faith- 
fully." 

At  this  point  I  whistled  to  Celia  and 
laid  the  letters  before  her. 

"  You  see  what  it  is,"  I  said.  "  I  'm 
not  quits  getting  the  note." 

"  But  you  're  so  abrupt,"  she  said. 
"You  must  remember  that  this  is  all 
coming  quite  as  a  surprise  to  him.  You 
want  to  lead  up  to  it  more  gradually." 

"  Ah,  perhaps  you  're  right.  Lat  's  try 
again." 

I  tried  again,  with  this  result — 

"  DEAR  Si;:, — In  sending  you  a  cheque 
in  payment  of  last  quarter's  rent  I  feel 
I  must  tell  you  how  comfortable  wo 
are  here.  The  only  inconvenience — 
and  it  is  indeed  a  trifling  one,  dear 
Sir — which  we  have  experienced  is  in 
connection  with  the  bath-room.  Ele- 
gantly appointed  and  spacious  as  this 
room  is,  commodious  as  we  find  the 
actual  bath  itself,  yet  we  feel  that  in 
the  matter  of  the  waste-pipe  the  high 
standard  of  efficiency  so  discernible 
elsewhere  is  sadly  lacking.  Were  I 
alone  I  should  not  complain ;  but  un- 
fortunately there  are  two  of  us ;  and, 
for  the  second  one,  the  weariness  of 
waiting  while  the  waters  of  the  lirsk 
bath  exude  drop  by  drop  is  almost 
more  than  can  be  borne.  I  speak  with 
knowledge,  for  it  is  I  who  — 

I  tore  the  letter  up  and  turned  to 
Celia. 

"I'm  a  -fool,"  I  said.  "I've  just 
thought  of  something  which  will  save 
me  all  this  rotten  business  every 
morning." 

"  I  'm  so  glad.     What  is  it '?  " 

"  Why,  of  course — in  future  7  will 
go  to  the  bath  first." 

And  I  do.  It  is  a  ridiculously  simple 
solution,  and  I.  cannot  think  why  it 
never  occurred  to  me  before. 

A.  A.  M. 


Entertaining  made  easy. 
"  AT  AN  EXTREMELY  Low  FIGURE. 
SPLENDID  FACILITIES  FOR  ENTERTAINING. 
One  of  the  most  entertaining  Adam  Mansions 
in  the  West  End  for  Sale." 

Advt.  in  "  TJie  Morning  Post." 


"In  view  of  the  surplus  of  £20,000  shown 
in  the  municipal  accounts,  the  2,000  citizens 
of  Klingenberg,  Germany,  were  not  only 
absolved  of  all  taxation  for  the  year,  but 
were  each  presented  with  £20  from  the  town 
treasury." — Tit-Bits. 

The  Town  Clerk  is  now  adding  tip  the 
figures  again.  He  has  a  sort  of  feeling, 
that  a  mistake  has  been  made,  and  that! 
the  treasury  has  been  too  hasty. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


LLJ 


II1",.  UNDER      ENTlllE 


SAVING    HER    FACE. 

TURKEY.  "  SOREY,    MADAM,    I    COULDN'T    OBLIGE    YOU    BY    RETIRING." 
EUROPA  (with  great  dignity).  "  NOT    AT    ALL.     YOU    MAY    REMEMBER    THAT    AT    THE    VERY 
START    I    STRONGLY    INSISTED    ON    THE    STATUS    QUO." 


SEPTEMHKII  24,  1913.] 


Oil    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


203 


X  .__r- 


THE    REWARD    OF    VALOUR. 

(After  a  day's  sea-fishing.) 

Mother.  "I  DON'T  THINK  WE  WANT  TO  KEEP  MORE  THAN  ONE  on  TWO,  CHILDREN?" 
Tom.  "HAVE  THAT  ONE,  MUMMY — HAVE  THAT  ONE — HE  STRUGGLED  MOST." 


IN   SELF-DEFENCE. 

GREAT  VIOLINIST  SFEAKS  OUT. 
(Special.) 

THE  prominence  attached  to  a  recent 
account  of  Signor  CARUSO'S  activities  as 
an  agriculturalist  has  elicited  a  digni- 
fied and  striking  letter  of  protest  from 
Mr.  Boldero  -  Bamborough  (formerly 
Baniberger),  the  famous  violinist,  who 
has  recently  incorporated  his  father-in- 
law's  name  with  his  own  and  slightly 
modified  the  latter  by  deed  poll.  "1 
see  it  stated,"  observes  Mr.  Boldero- 
Bamborougb,  "  that  CABUSO  is  the  pos- 
sessor of  several  large  estates  in 
Tuscany,  including  twenty  farms  at 
Bellosguardo  ;  that  he  is  building  an 
art  gallery  in  the  eighteenth-century 
style  to  house  his  collection  of  statuary, 
and  that  another  of  his  country  houses 
is  surrounded  by  sixteen  farms,  each 
containing  a  piano. 

"  The  obvious  inference  to  be  drawn 
from  this  statement  is  that  such 
prosperity  is  exceptional  in  a  musician. 
This  is  nothing  leas  than  a  slur  upon  the 


noble  profession  to  which  I  am  proud 
to  belong.  Loath  as  I  am  to  obtrude 
my  personal  affairs  on  the  public — not 
only  from  my  own  ingrained  aversion 
from  advertisement  but  in  view  of  the 
fastidious  self-suppression  of  my  wife, 
nfe  Polyxena  Boldero,  and  my  father- 
in-law,  Sir  Pompey  Boldero,  F.R.S.L. 
— I  have  no  choice  but  to  make  known 
the  following  facts  :— 

"  My  property  includes  an  estate  of 
5,000  square  miles  in  New  Guinea,  a 
rubber  plantation  in  the  Solomon 
Islands,  a  mine  in  Alaska,  an  elephant 
ranche  in  Central  India,  a  deer  forest 
in  Sutherlandshire,  a  tobacco  farm  in 
Tipperary,  and  fifty  farms  in  Norfolk. 
The  management  of  the  latter  I  keep 
under  my  own  supervision,  the  pro- 
duce including  thousands  of  tons  of 
tomatoes,  turkeys,  Bombay  ducks, 
milk  from  the  cocoa-nut  plantations, 
broad  beans  from  the  Broads  and 
many  thousands  of  gallons  of  goose- 
berry wine.  I  think  it  only  right  to 
add  that  not  only  is  there  a  cottage 
piano  on  every  labourer's  holding,  but 


that  every  cow-byre  is  fitted  with  a 
pianola  and  every  pig-sty  with  a 
gramophone. 

"  At  my  residence,  Bamborough 
Towers,  near  Thetford,  there  are  three 
butlers,  fourteen  footmen,  thirty-six 
best  bedrooms,  and  twenty  bathrooms. 

"  My  silver  swimming-bath  measures 
ninety  by  fifteen  yards. 

"  My  press-cutting  room,  which  is 
decorated  with  porphyry  columns,  with 
a  ceiling  painted  by  SIGISMUND  GOETZE, 
is  the  largest  in  the  world.  My  press- 
cutter  is  an  M.A.  and  Litt.D. 

"  I  feel  it  necessary  to  repeat,  though 
it  is  most  painful  to  me  to  do  so,  that 
my  father-in-law  is  Sir  Pompey  Boldero, 
F.E.S.L.,  whose  name  is  a  household 
word  in  the  most  fashionable  salons 
of  Mayfair. 

"  It  remains  to  be  added  that  I  am  the 
only  violinist  of  world-wide,  distinction 
who  is  the  father  of  triplets  (Orpheus, 
Beethoven  and  Paganini),  and  has 
been  kidnapped  by  Nihilists,  serenaded 
by  Amazons  and  partially  eaten  by 
cannibals." 


201 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


THE    WINGED    VICTORY. 

THE  question   is,  What  becomes  of 


But  this  time  it  is  more  difficult: 
Macbeth  lias  performed  his  pet  trick 
too  thoroughly.  At  last,  however,  I 


J.  11  rj    liucouiu:        iOj      »  •  i  i  •       Ji          J 

the  mosquito  when   you  are   hunting  :  drowse  away.agam  to  be  galvanised  sud- 

1    d(>nly  into  intense  vigilance  ol  dread  by 


for  him?  (I  say  "he,"  although,  of 
course,  there  are  supporters  of  the 
theory  that  mosquitoes  are  Militants. 
But  I  know  he  is  a  he,  and  I  know  his 
it  is,  for  obvious  reasons, 


name,  too : 
Macbeth.) 

This   is   my  procedure. 


I  undress, 


then  I  put  on  a  dressing -gown  and 
slippers,  and,  lifting  the  mosquito  cur 
tains,  I  place  the  candle  inside 
them  on  the  bed.  Then,  with 
the  closest  scrutiny,  I  satisfy 
myself  that  there  is  no  mosquito 
inside,  as  indeed  Eleanora,  the 
handmaid,  had  done  some  hours 
earlier,  when  she  made  the  bed. 
"Niente,  nicnte,"s\i6  had  assured 
me,  as  she  always  does.  None 
the  less,  again  I  go  carefully 
round  it,  examining  the  net  for 
any  faulty  hanging  which  might 
let  in  an  insect  ascending  with 
malice  from  the  floor. 

This  being  done,  I  creep 
through,  blow  out  the  candle 
and  go  to  sleep. 

I  have  slept  perhaps  an  hour 
when  a  shrill  bugle  call,  which 
I  conceive  in  my  dreams  to  be 
the  Last  Trump,  awakens  me, 
and  as  I  awake  I  realise  once 
again  the  melancholy  fact  that 
it  is  no  Last  Trump  at  all  but 
that  there  is,  as  there  always  is, 
a  mosquito  inside  the  curtains. 

Already  he  has  probably  bitten 
me  in  several  places  ;  at  any  cost 
he  must  be  prevented  from  biting 
me  again.  I  sit  up  and  feel  my 
face  all  over  to  discover  if  my 
beauty  has  been  assailed ;  for 
that  is  the  thing  I  most  dread. 
(Without  beauty  what  are  we?) 
I  lie  quite  still  while  I  do  this, 
straining  to  catch  his  horrid  song 


the  bugle  shrilling  an  inch  from  my  ear. 

And  so  once  again  I  get  up  and  once 
again  the  pest  vanishes  into  nothing. .  .  . 

The  next  time  I  don't  care  a  soldo  if 
he  is  there  or  not,  I  am  so  tired ;  and 
the  rest  of  the  night  is  passed  in  a 
half-sleep,  in  -which  real  mosquitoes  or 
imaginary  mosquitoes  equally  do  their 


I  examine  him  minutely  and  observe 
him  to  be  alive,  and  the  repugnant 
truth  is  forced  upon  me  that  he  is  not 
merely  drunk  but  drunk  with  my  blood. 
That  purple  tide  is  alcoholic ;  and  his 
intemperance  has  been  his1  ruin. 

There  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done. 
I  have  no  paltry  feelings  of  revenge; 
but  his  death  is  indicated.  The  future 
must  be  considered.  And  so  I  kill  him. 
It  is  done  with  the  greatest  ease.  He 
makes  no  resistance  at  all,  but  merely, 
while  dying,  salutes  me  with  my  own 
blood.  It  is  odd  to  have  it  thus 
spread  before  one. 

A  good  colour,  I  think,  and 
get  up,  feeling  no  triumph. 

Then,  going  to  the  glass,  I 
discern  a  red  lump  on  my  aris- 
tocratic nose,  hitherto  my  best 
feature.  .  .  . 

P.S. — There  is  no  cure  for 
mosquito  bites,  all  the  chemists 
of  the  world  to  the  contrary. 
There  is  not  even  a  lenitive. 


OUB  BARBER  TAKES  UP  GARDENING. 


again  ;  and  suddenly  there  it  is  so  near 
that  I  duck  my  head  swiftly,  nearly 
ricking  my  neck  in  doing  so. 

This  confirming  my  worst  fears,  there 
is  nothing  for  it  now  but  to  lift  the 
curtains,  slip  out  on  to  the  cold  stone 
floor,  light  the  candle,  and  once  again 
go  through  the  futile  but  necessary 
movement  of  locating  and  expelling  a 
mosquito. 

That  there  will  be  none  to  expel,  I 
know. 

None  the  less  I  crawl  about  and 
peer  into  every  corner.  I  shake  the 
clothes,  I  do  everything  that  can  be 
done  short  of  stripping  the  curtains, 


which   I   am   too 
then   I   blow  out 


sleepy  to  do.     And 
the   candle   for   the 


second  time  and  endeavour  to  fall  asleep 
again. 


worst,  and  I  turn  no  hair.  And  then, 
some  years  later,  the  blessed  day  dawns 
and  another  Italian  night  of  misery  has 
passed ;  and,  gradually  recognising  this 
bliss,  I  sit  up  in  bed  and  begin  to  tear 
away  at  the  fresh  poison  in  my  poor 
hands  and  wrists,  which  were  like 
enough  to  a  map  of  a  volcanic  island 
in  the  Pacific  yesterday,  but  now  are 
poignantly  more  so. 

And  suddenly,  as  I  thus  scratch,  I 
am  conscious  of  a  motionless  black 
speck  on  the  curtain  above  me.  .  .  . 

It  is — yes — no — yes — it  is  Macbeth. 

I  agitate  the  gauze,  but  he  takes  no 
notice  ;  I  approach  my  hand,  a  move- 
ment which  in  his  saner  moments  he 
would  fly  from  with  the  agility  of 
electricity ;  he  remains  still.  He  is 
either  dead  or  dazed. 


THE    CURTAIN-RAISER. 

SIR, — The  discussion  raised 
by  the  recent  substitution  at  a 
West  End  theatre  of  variety 
turns  for  the  usual  first  piece  is 
being  briskly  maintained.  One 
writer  in  the  Press  claims  that 
it  should  surely  be  possible  for 
the  dramatist  -to  invent  some 
means  by  which  the  interest  of 
his  play  can  be  so  divided  as  to 
be  enjoyed  by  late  arrivals,  no 
matter  at  what  period  of  the 
action  they  take  it  up.  May  I, 
as  a  writer  of  many  one-act 
plays,  respectfully  put  forward 
my  proposed  solution  of  this 
problem?  On  a  system  of 
equable  exchange  it  is  frankly 
borrowed  from  the  music  halls. 
The  essence  of  the  idea  is  a 
time-table  of  the  leading  situ- 
ations in  the  curtain-raiser.  Thus  on 
reaching  his  stall  all  that  the  fashion- 
ably tardy  spectator  has  to  do  is  to 
consult  his  watch,  refer  to  the  cor- 
responding time  on  the  programme, 
and  be  at  once  en  rapport  with  the 
dramatic  position.  What  could  be 
more  simple  ?  I  call  my  proposal  the 
"You  Can  Start  Now"  sys-tem,  and 
am  confident  that  it  only  needs  to  be 
tried  to  he  generally  adopted.  An 
example  is  enclosed. 


Yours,  etc., 

PRACTICAL 


PLAY  WEIGHT. 


"  HALF  AN  HOUR." 
A  Farce  in  One  Act.     Every  evening 

at  8.15. 

8.15. — Frank,    a    young    dramatist, 
and   Dora   at   home.     They   have    no 


SBPTEMJ.KB  21,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


265 


Impressionable  Visitor. 

GAS  AS  I   CAME   IN  I  ".. 


'  BY  JOVE  !    THE  GAS  WORKS  ! 


REALISM. 

NOW  THAT  BEALLY  IS  TOP-HOLE  ! 


Do  YOU  KNOW,  I  'LL  SWEAB  I  SMSI.T 


money.  They  therefore  live  in  a  dila- 
pidated and  inconvenient  flat,  built 
closo  against  the  footlights,  and 
furnished  with  any  old  rubbish  from 
the  property-room. 

8.18. — Frank  explains  to  Dora  that 
he  has  an  enormously  wealthy  uncle 
who  imagines  him  to  be  still  a  bachelor, 
and  so  cannot  be  applied  to  for  aid. 

8.20. — Prank  goes  out  to  offer  his 
play  to  managers. 

8.22. — Dora,  alone,  explains  to  the 
furniture  how  sorry  she  is  that  Frank's 
enormously  wealthy  uncle  imagines  him 
to  be  still  a  bachelor  and  so  cannot  be 
applied  to  for  aid. 

8.25. — She  finds  a  paper  saying  that 
many  burglaries  have  been  perpetrated 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  gives  way  to 
comic  alarm.  [N.B.  There  is  a  scream 
somewhere  here  which  will  tell  you 
where  you  are.] 

8.30. — Enter  the  enormously  wealthy 
uncle,  who  asks  for  Frank,  and  takes 
Dora  for  a  house-maid. 

•32. — Dora  takes  him  for  a  burglar. 
[N.B.  The  uncle  has  white  hair  and 
spats,  so  if  you  arrive  at  this  point  you 
will  not  confuse  him  with  Frank.! 


8.35. — The  uncle  kisses  Dora,  whom 
he  greatly  admires. 

8.38. — Dora  shuts  uncle  in  the  coal- 
cellar.  [The  door  on  your  left  out  of 
the  drawing-room  is  the  coal-csllar. 
The  one  on  the  other  side  leads  to  the 
street.] 

8.40. — Dora  is  frightened  again.  The 
uncle  bangs  on  the  door  (L.). 

8.41. — Frank  [brown  hair,  no  spats] 
enters  by  the  right-hand  door,  and  says 
that  his  play  would  be  produced  if  only 
some  rich  patron  would  provide  the 
money. 

8.42. — Dora  is  pathetic.  There  is 
no  more  banging,  BO  you  will  know 
when  she  is  being  pathetic.  She 
again  laments  the  obduracy  of  the 
uncle. 

8.43. — The  uncle  resumes  banging. 
Frank  is  startled.  Dora  explains  that 
it  is  a  burglar. 

8.44. — Frank  lets  out  the  uncle,  who 
enters  with  his  coat  inside  out  (because 
of  the  coal)  and  his  face  black. 

8.44 J. — Explanations  prestissimo. 

8.45. — The  uncle  promises  to  finance 
Frank's  play.  Dora  joins  their  hands. 
Curtain. 


8.46.— [Perhaps.]  The  curtain  may 
go  up  and  down  again.  Should  you 
arrive  at  this  point,  you  will  see  three 
persons  bowing.  But  you  needn't 
bother  about  them. 


PEACE. 

WHEN  the  holidays  are  over, 

And  to  Eastbourne,  Westgate,  Dover, 

Mother's  darlings  by  the  trainful 

(After  partings  rather  painful) 

Go  to  spend  the  autumn  term  in 

Schools  like  "Cliff  House"  or  "St. 

Ermin  " — 

When  no  longer  we're  appealed  to 
(For  our  sins)  to  bowl  or  field  to 
Little  boys  who  think  we  play  so 
Very  rottenly,  and  say  so — 
When  the  shouts  which  for  a  while  lent 
Horror  to  our  home  are  silent, 
And  we  realise  it's  true  that 
There 's   no  need   to   say,   "  Don't   do 

that"— 

It  is  then  that  I  confess  you 
Are  a  blessing,  and  I  bless  you, 
Folkestone,      Eastbourne,      Westgate, 

Dover ! 
Yes,  the  holidays  are  over. 


2GG 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


THE    AUTHORS'    STRIKE. 

THK  action  of  the  libraries  in  placing  a  modified  ban  on 
tbe  circulation  of  certain  novels  has  led  to  an  unexpected 
development.  Yesterday  morning  the  leaders  of  the  Authors' 
Union,  after  a  sitting  which  had  lasted  all  through  the 
night,  decided  by  an  overwhelming  majority  to  advise  their 
inembeis  to  clown  tools.  The  advice  was  instantly  followed. 
At  10  A.M.  Mr.  JOHN  GALSWORTHY  threw  his  inkstand,  his 
penholders  and  three  boxes  of  "  J  "  nibs  out  of  the  window 
into  the  street  below,  where  they  were  picked  up  and 
secreted  by  an  admirer  of  the  novelist.  At  the  same  hour 
Sir  GILBERT  PAIIKEB  publicly  burnt  his  typewriting  machines 
and  dismissed  his  corps  of  typists,  while  Mr.  ARNOLD  BEN- 
NETT, after  having  torn  into  twenty  strips  his  relief  map  of 
the  Five  Towns,  put  on  his  fur  coat,  entered  his  motor-car, 
and  set  off  to  Hampstead  to  join  a  peaceful  picket  organised 
and  commanded  by  Mr.  W.  B.  MAXWELL.  Similar  scenes 
were  witnessed  in  most  of  the  novel-factories  of  the  Metro- 
polis and  the  adjoining  suburbs.  The  female  section  of  the 
Union  has  been  very  busily  employed  in  arranging  pro- 
cessions and  embroidering  banners.  Some  of  these- are  of 
a  most  tasteful  design.  One  bears  the  words,  "  No  more 
Mud  from  Mudie,"  surrounded  b'y  a  laurel  wreath.  Another 
is  emblazoned  with  an  excellent  and  terror-striking  portrait 
of  Mr.  HALL  CAINE  set  in  the  midst  of  a  circle  of  realistic 
Hashes  of  lightning.  Below  this  is  the  appeal  (red  letters 
on  a  black  ground),  "  Who  would  be  Free  must  smash 
Class  B." 

The  strike,  it  should  be  stated,  is  not  primarily  directed 
against  the  publishers,  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  these 
can  remain  neutral.  Mr.  JOHN  MURRAY,  interviewed  by 
our  representative,  declared  that  he  sympathised  warmly 
with  the  Libraries.  The  strikers,  in  his  opinion,  have  com- 
mitted a  serious  mistake  and  must  fail  for  lack  of  funds. 
None  of  his  own  men,  he  says,  has  so  far  shown  any 
intention  of  ceasing  work,  and  he  believes  himself  to  be  in 
a  position  to  guarantee  a  regular  supply  of  all  sorts  of  books 
during  the  autumn.  On  the  other  hand  Mr.  JOHN  LANE, 
when  interviewed  in  Vigo  Street,  expressed  himself  in  severe 
terms  in  regard  to  the  rash  action  of  the  Libraries.  He 
ridiculed  the  idea  that  strike  pay  will  not  be  forthcoming. 
Mr.  LANE  thought  the  public  did  not,  perhaps,  sufficiently 
appreciate  the  fact  that  there  were  two  sexes  in  the 
world. 

At  4  P.M.  a  mass  meeting  was  held  in  Trafalgar  Square, 
which  was  packed  with  a  huge  crowd  of  prosperous  and 
well-fed  strikers.  On  the  outskirts  a  brisk  business  was 
done  by  the  sellers  of  'Mr.  HALL  CAINE'S  autograph,  count- 
less specimens  of  which  found  purchasers  at  the  starvation 
price  of  a  guinea  apiece.  After  Mr.  A.  C.  BENSON  had  been 
voted  to  the  base  of  Nelson's  column  much  enthusiasm  was 
caused  by  the  appearance  of  a  contingent  of  sympathetic 
posts  headed  by  Mr.  JOHN  MASEFIELD,  who  brought  with 
him  in  a  covered  van  a  newly-arrived  consignment  of  briny 
oaths  and  a  sailor's  glossary  in  ten  volumes.  It  was  stated 
that  Mr.  STEPHEN  PHILLIPS,  Mr.  LASCELLES  ABERCROMBIE 
and  Mr.  EZRA  POUND  had  intended  to  be  present,  but  a 
sudden  attack  of  afflatus,  a  most  distressing  illness  to  which 
they  are  occasionally  liable,  had  confined  them  to  their 
homes.  All  three,  however,  sent  a  message  expressing 
warm  sympathy  with  the  movement  and  pledging  them- 
selves to  abstain  from  the  publication  of  verse  until  the 
demands  of  the  men  were  conceded.  "  We  may  not,"  they 
wrote,  "  bs  able  to  control  the  poetic  impulse  so  far  as  to 
prevent  ourselves  from  thinking  in  metre,  but  we  shall 
certainly  write  nothing  down."  This  declaration,  when 
read  to  the  meeting,  was  received  with  loud  cries  of  "  The 
battle  's  won  "  and  "  That  finishes  it." 


When  calm  had  been  sufficiently  restored  Mr.  A.  C. 
BENSON,  standing  on  a  platform  constructed  entirely  out  of 
books  written  by  himself,  opsned  the  proceedings.  It  was 
not  for  him,  ho  said,  to  pass  any  harsh  judgment  even  on 
the  proprietors  of  circulating  libraries.  What  they  had 
done  spoke  for  itself.  A  wrong  had  been  committed,  and,  as 
the  Bishop  of  Kamschatka  once  observed  to  him,  wrong  must 
be  righted  before  anything  valuable  could  be  undertaken. 
He  (the  speaker)  had  not  read  the  books  complained  of,  but 
that  very  fact  made  it  possible  for  him  to  take  an  impartial 
view.  Moderation  was  all  very  well,  but  even  those  whose 
lives  were  a  round  of  limpid  tranquillity  could  join  with 
others  who  were  moved  to  action  by  a  sense  of  intolerable 
oppression.  He  had  much  pleasure  in  proposing  a  reso- 
lution pledging  those  present  to  support  the  strike  by  a 
voluntary  royalty  of  fifteen  per  cent,  on  the  selling  price  of 
their  books,  thirteen  to  count  as  twelve,  together  with  ten 
per  cent,  on  American  and  Colonial  sales. 

At  this  point  Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW  drove  up  in  a  Roman 
chariot.  He  was  closely  guarded  on  one  side  by  Mr.  G.  K. 
CHESTERTON,  mounted  on  a  Suffolk  Punch,  and  on  the 
other  by  Mr.  HILAIRE  BELLOC,  who  rode  a  horse  stated  to 
have  been  purchased  from  a  French  battery  of  artillery. 
Mr.  SHAW,  having  removed  Mr.  BENSON  from  the  chair, 
proceeded  to  describe  himself  as  a  martyr,  but  was  himself 
immediately  flung  from  the  platform  by  Mr.  BELLOC,  who 
danced  on  him,  and  Mr.  CHESTERTON,  who  fell  on  him. 
Mr.  BELLOC  then  attempted  to  propose  a  resolution  con- 
demning Judaism  in  politics,  while  Mr.  CHESTERTON  de- 
nounced the  Insurance  Act,  and  the  meeting  broke  up  in 
indescribable  confusion. 

Later. — It  is  reported  that  some  of  the  publishers,  acting 
in  concert  with  the  Libraries,  have  decided  to  import  three 
hundred  American  novelists  of  both  sexes  in  order  to  break 
the  strike.  Pickets  have  been  sent  to  all  the  ports  to  per- 
suade these  blacklegs  to  return  to  their  own  country,  and 
the  worst  is  feared. 

"  AND  THEN  THERE  WAS  NONE." 

["  Only  ens  case  lias  coma  to  our  notice,"  says  a  daily  paper,  "  ol  a 
subscriber  who  was  satisfied  with  his  telephone  service."] 

I  WAS  that  man,  Sir,  I  was  satisfied; 

Alone  in  London,  nay,  alone  in  Britain, 
I  never  growled  about  my  'phone,  or  sighed 

("  The  office  'phone  "  I  really  should  have  written) ; 
Dear  heaven,  how  could  there  be  the  slightest  hitcli 
While  Claribel,  my  queen,  was  on  the  switch? 

I  got  her  every  time  in  one,  and  then 

What  bliss  was  ours,  what  billing  and  what  cooing ! 
In  vain  might  uninitiated  men 

And  maidens  overhear  our  wire-borne  wooing ; 
In  sooth,  it  is  not  generally  known 
How  kisses  sound  upon  the  telephone. 

But  late,  upon  a  day  of  direst  grief, 

The  darling  rang  me  up  and  spake  me  sweetly ; 
The  call  was  answered  by  my  gouty  chief — 
Since  when  my  love  has  cut  me  off  completely. 
Now,  Sir,  the  "  satisfied  subscriber  "  groans 
And  vehemently  swears  at  t3lephones  ! 

Another  Impending  Apology. 

"Mrs.  Herbert  Pullar,  in  blue,  with  a  small  black  hat;  Mrs 
Mitchell,  of  Glassel,  in  black,  with  an  ivory  and  blur  hat  .  Mr 
Martin  White,  in  a  white  suit  and  small  black  and  white  hat !  " 

The  Queen. 

Why  this  note  of  exclamation  ?    A  correspondent  who  sav 
the  hat  assures  us  that  it  was  quite  all  right. 


SEPTKMBKU  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


£67 


THE    UNIVERSITY    PROVIDER. 

[Lady  BOOT'S  declaration  that  she  is  prepared  to  take  fifty  college  girls  as  assistants  in  Boot's  Stores  is  likely  to  lead  to  the  general 
development  of  a  superior  type  of  shopwoinan.] 


"MY  LITTLE    BOY   HAS  A   COLD  IN   HIS   NOSE.      I   WANT "  So   THAT    FCB  's  WHAT  YOU   CALL  MINK?       WELL,    I    CALL    IT 

"CERTAINLY,    MADAM.       MlSS     SlIYTHE,    PRODUCE    THE    NASO-  JUST  MISERABLE  COMMON   eMT." 

PHARYNGEAL  PAHOLEINE  ATOMISER   FOR  SPRAYING  OLEAGINOUS  "AH,  MADAM.     DE  MOHTUIS  KIL  Nisr  BOXUM!  " 

AND  AQUEOUS   SOLUTIONS." 


1 


"I   WANT   CORSETS   SUITABLE  FOR  GOLF."  "  Bui   IS   IT  A   REALLY   GOOD   HAIR- RESTORER  ?" 

"Tin:  VERY  THING,   MADAM.      THEY  ALLOW  FREE  PLAY   OF  THE  "WELL,    MADAM,    I    CAN    ASSURE    YOU    THAT    MY   OLD    COLLEGE 

1'i:  TOKAL1S   MAJOR  AND  THE    LATISSIMUS   DOHSI   AND   DON'T  INTER-  FRIENDS,   LjAl)Y  DUMPSHIHE  AND  LADY  Dl  SPIFKINGTON,   ALWAYS 

WITH   THE   DIGITATIONS   OF  THE   SERRATUS   MAGNUS."  USE    IT,   AND  YOU    KNOW   WHAT  BEAUTIFUL    HAIR    THEY  HAVE.      A 

BIG   BOTTLE,   MADAM?      THANK   YOU." 


268  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


a, 


CASTE. 

Tlie  Lady  (on  a  clieap  week-end  visit).  "\VHEBE 's  YEB  MANNERS,  BEOWN — BLOWIS"  OK  TEB  TEA?     ANYBODY  MIGHT  TAKE  VEB 

FOB  A  DAY-TBIPPEB. " 


ON    SIMON'S    STACK. 

HILL    shepherds,   hard   north-country 

men, 
Bring  down   the  baa'ing  blackface 

droves 

To  market  or  to  shearing-pen 
From  the  high  places  and  the 

groves — 
High  places  of  the  fox  and  gled, 

Groves    of    the    stone-pine    on    the 

scree,  • 

Lone  sanctuaries  where  we  have  said, 
"  The  gods  have  been  ;  the  gods  may 
be! " 

'Mid  conifer  and  fern  and  whin 

I  sat ;  the  turf  was  warm  and  dry ; 
A  sailing  speck,  the  peregrine 

Wheeled  in  the  waste  of  azure  sky  ; 
The   blue-grey  clouds   of  pinewoods 
clung, 

Their  vanguard  climbed  the  heathery 

steep ; 
A  terrier  with  lolling  tongue 

Blinked  in  my  shadow,  half  asleep. 

The  Legion's  Way  shone  far  beneath  ; 

A  javelin  white  as  Adria's  foam, 
It  gleamed  across  dark  leagues  of  heath 

To  Borne,  to  everlasting  Eome ; 


Likewise  from  Eome  to  Simon's  Stack 
(That 's  logical,  at  least),  and  so 

It  may  have  brought  a  Huntress  back 
On  trails  She  followed  long  ago  ! 

I  watched  my  drifting  smoke-wreaths 
rise, 

And  pictured   Pagans    plumed   and 

tense 
Who  climbed  the  hill  to  sacrifice 

To  great  Diana's  excellence ; 
And — "  Just  the  sort  of  church  for  me," 

I  said,  and  heard  a  fir-cone  fall ; 
The  puppy  bristled  at  my  knee — 

And  that  was  absolutely  all. 

A  queer  thing  is  a  clump  of  fir ; 

But,  if  it 's  old  and  on  a  hill, 
Free  to  that  ancient  trafficker, 

The  wind,  it 's  ten  times  queerer  still ; 
Sometimes  it 's  filled  with  bag-pipe 
skirls, 

Anon  with  heathen  whispering  ; 
Just  then  it  seemed  alive  with  girls 

Who  laughed,  and  let  a  bowstring 
sing! 

Yes,  funny  things  your  firwoods  do  : 
They  fill  with  elemental  sounds  ; 

Hence,  one  lias  fancied  feet  that  flew 
And  the  high  whimpering  of  hounds; 


"  A  wind  from  clown  the  corrie's  cup — 
Only  the  wind,"  said  I  to  Tramp; 

He  heard — stern  down  and  hackles  up, 
I — with  a  forehead  strangely  damp. 

Wind?  or  the  Woodland  Chastity 

Passing,  as  once,  upon  Her  way, 
That  left  a  little  dog  and  me 

Confounded  in  the  light  of  day  ? 
A  rabbit  hopped  across  the  track ; 

The  pup  pursued  with  shrill  ki-yi ; 
I  asked  him  which,  when  he  came  back; 

He  couldn't  tell — no  more  can  I. 


"Hitherto  the  record  year  for  the  four 
months  from  May  to  August  has  been  11)11, 
but  this  summer  75,000  people  in  excess  of  that 
number  landed  on  the  island." 

Liverpool  Evening  Express. 

Making  76,911  altogether. 


"STOLEN  POST  OFFICE  SAKE." 

Daily  News. 

We  are  glad  that  the  missing  post-office 
has  been  traced  at  last.  We  wero 
really  getting  quite  anxious. 


"WANTED.. —  Good  General  Servant  for 
Hampstead,  London.  Good  home  for  willing 
girl  with  good  charabanc." 

Advt.  in  "  Barmouth  Comity  Advertiser." 

Useful  during  a  'bus  strike. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABIVABL— SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


THE    DAWN    OF    HAKMONY. 

MR.  REDMOND  (to  Mr.  ASQVITH).  " I  'LL    DARE    YE    TO    COMPROMISE!" 

Siu  EDWARD  CARSON   (to  Mr.  BONAIS  LAW).   "D'YE    HEAR    HWAT    THE    GINTLEMAN    SAYS? 
'M    WID    HIM    ENTIRELY." 

LOUD  LOREBURN  (cherub).  "AH,    HA!      ALREADY    THEY    BEGIN    TO    AGREE." 


Si-:. -I-KMI.KB  24,  1913.]         PUNCH,   Oil   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


271 


fr*J5  ' 

•.S^V;tJ> 


° 


Magistrate  (to  yokel  visiting  London 'and  taken  into  custody  far  stealing  bicycle).  "I  HAVE  A  GOOD  MIND  TO  SEND  you  TO  rnisox 

FOB  six  MONTHS."  Yokel.  "  YEB  CAS'i."  Magistrate.  "  How  is  THAI?" 

Yokel.  "  An'vE  NODBOT  COOM  FOB  THHEE  DAYS." 


A    TEST    CASE. 

AT  the  Central  Criminal  Court,  before 
Mr.  Justice  DARLING  and  a  Special 
Jury,  George  Duncan  (thirty),  who  gave 
his  address  as  Hanger  Hill,  Baling, 
pled  not  guilty  to  the  charge  that, 
at  Muckle  Brigbrae,  N.B.,  he  had 
wickedly  and  feloniously  broken  a 
valuable  record,  the  property  of  Alex- 
ander Sanders  Elshioncr  Cattanach, 
commission  agent  in  Glasgow.  Owing 
to  the  exasperation  of  public  sentiment 
in  Mucklo  Brigbrae  and  adjacent  parts 
of  Scotland,  it  had  been  deemed  ex- 
pedient to  remove  this  case  to  a  calmer 
tknosphere,  and  Mr.  Justice  DARLING 
consented  to  preside,  on  receiving  a 
hearty  and  unanimous  requisition 
signed  by  the  Press  Association  and 
"Iher  eminent  news  agencies.  The 
Special  Jury  was  composed  of  six 
111:1. or  golf  professionals,  and  the 
•ur  champions  of  the  South- 
of  Ireland,  Bohemia,  East  Rut- 
landshire, Buganda,  Bessarabia  and 
Si.  Kilda. 

Mr.    MARSHALL    HALL,    K.C.,   who 

euted,    had    objected    to    JAMES 

Hiuin,  THOMAS  BALL  and  JOHN  HKNKY 


TAYLOU  as  jurors,  on  the  ground  that 
they  had  been  accessories  before, during, 
and  after  the  alleged  offence.  They 
were  accommodated  in  the  well  of  the 
court,  which  was  free  from  casual 
water.  The  court  was  crowded,  and 
Mr.  Justice  DARLING  explained  at  the 
outset  that  if  anybody  laughed  before 
he,  the  learned  Judge,  came  to  the 
point  of  a  joke  it  would  be  necessary 
to  have  it — the  court,  not  the  joke 
(loud  laughter) — instantly  cleared.  Mr. 
F.  E.  SMITH,  K.C.,  appeared  for  the 
accused.  The  Provost  of  Muckle  Brig- 
brae  held  a  watching  brief  for  himself 
and  the  Publicity  Committee  of  the 
Muckle  Brigbrae  Town  Council. 

Mr.  Alexander  Sanders  Elshioner 
Cattanach  said  in  evidence  that  ho  was 
the  holder  of  the  record  which  the 
accused  bad  broken.  He  had  acquired 
the  record — a  72 — six  years  ago,  and 
with  any  ordinary  luck  it  would  have 
been  a  70,  two  full  brassie  shots  having 
stopped  on  the  lip  of  the  hole.  Though 
he  did  not  know  the  accused  personally, 
he  believed  that  Duncan  had  a  grudge 
against  him,  for  two  years  ago  he  had 
attempted  to  break  complainer's  record, 
but  had  failed  to  get  under  72.  Now 


Duncan  had  gone  back  to  Mucklo  Brig- 
brae,  and  by  going  round  in  67  had 
broken  complainer's  record  and  made 
it  of  absolutely  no  value  as  a  family 
heirloom,  and  totally  useless  to  coin- 
plainer  as  an  asset  in  ths  commission 
business.  As  a  consequence  of  Dun- 
can's conduct  witness's  orders  had 
already  fallen  35  per  cent.,  and  he  was 
now  seeing  managing-clerks  instead  of 
principals.  He  would  lose  by  Duncan's 
conduct  socially  as  well  as  in  his  busi- 
ness. He  had  been  known  among  his 
friends  as  Brigbrae  Cattanach,  but  they 
used  that  name  now  in  a  jeering  way. 
Men  who  used  to  take  a  third  from  him 
now  wanted  to  play  him  level.  This 
was  a  serious  matter  for  any  business 
man  in  the  West  of  Scotland. 

Mr.  F.  E.  SUITS  (to  witness).  You 
say  you  made  this  record  six  years  ago. 
Had  you  any  witnesses  ? — Of  course. 
It  was  a  three-ball  match. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLINO.  Played  chiefly 
by  pawnbrokers,  Mr.  SMITH.  (Laughter.) 

Mr.  SMITH.  Thank  you,  m"  lud.  So 
I  have  heard.  Now,  Mr.  Cattanach, 
who  were  the  other  players  ? — My 
brother  and  the  assistant  green-keepsr. 
I  was  playing  their  best  ball. 


272 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


Mr.  SMITH.  Never  mind  about  their 
best  ball.  It  is  your  bull  I  want  to 
know  about.  This  appears  to  have 
been  a  Family  Record. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING.  That  sounds 
like  a  domestic  magazine  of  an  im- 
proving character.  (Laughter.) 

Mr.  SMITH.  Very  good,  m'lud.  (To 
witness)  Do  you  admit  that  this  was 
a  Family  Record  ? — It  was  our  Family 
Record  until  the  accused  broke  it. 

Mr.  SMITH.  Don't  quibble  with  me, 
Sir.  You  say  that  the  witnesses  of 
this  athletic  triumph  were  your  brother 
and  an  assistant  green-keeper.  Did 
you  tip  the  green-keeper? 

Mr.  MARSHALL  HALL.  M'  lud,  I  have 
never  heard  so  foul  an  insinuation 
made  in  a  Court  of  Justice  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  professional  experience. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING.  Then  you  have 
been   much  more   fortunate  • — 
than  I.   (Laughter.) 

Mr.   SMITH.     I    ask    you ! 
again,  Mr.  Cattanach.     Did1 
you  tip  this  assistant  green- 
keeper  ? — Yes. 

Mr.  SMITH.  How  much? — 
A  shilling,  (loud  laughter.) 

Mr.  SMITH.  Was  that 
before  or  after  this  alleged 
record  ? — After. 

Mr.  SMITH.  To  purchase 
his  silence,  I  suppose? — No. 

Mr.  SMITH.  Did  you  hole] 
out   on   every   green  ? — Yes, 
on  every  green. 

Mr.  SMITH.  You  never 
lifted  your  ball? — Oh,  yes. 
Twice. 

Mr.  SMITH.  Oh,  you  lifted 
your  ball  twice,  did  you? 
Why  was  that  ? — Because  I 
had  laid  my  brother  a  stymie. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING.  What  is  a 
stymie  ? 

Mr.  SMITH.  A  stymie,  m'  lud,  is  the 
fortuitous  juxtaposition  of  two  balls  on 
the    putting    green,   so   that   the   one 
nearer   the   hole   is  in   line  with  and 
obstructs  the  path  of  the  ball  further 
from  the  hole,  it  being  essential  to  the 
emergence  of  the  condition  of  stymie- 
faction  that  the  balls  should  lie  more  than 
six  inches  from  each  other,  measured 
from  the  nearest  protrusion  or  depres- 
sion on  the  circumference  of  each  ball. 
[At  this  point  JAMES  BRAID  fainted 
and  had  to  be  carried  out  of  court 
by  THOMAS  BALL  and  JOHN  HENRY 
TAYLOR,  who  both  used  the  inter- 
locking grip. 

Mr.  SMITH.  I  submit,  m'  lud,  that 
there  is  no  case  to  go  to  the  jury.  The 
alleged  Cattanach  record,  upon  which 
the  charge  against  my  client  depends, 
itself  depends  upon  evidence  that  is 
partly  fraternal  and  partly  venal  and 
altogether  untrustworthy. 


The  Provost  of  Mncldc  Brigbrae  j  had  no  intention  of  treating  Mr.  Cat- 
(speaking  wider  strong  emotion).  And  i  tanach's  record,  a  highly  creditable 
I  submit,  my  loard,  that  Mr.  SMITH  i  one,  so  roughly  as  to  cause  a  compound 

1  •  i   __     i  !i.  i »_  A _.  ii.intni^nni-      rpKi  f,  I  |  >••  i  (•  i  1 1 1-,  x 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING,  lie  meant  to 


disna  ken  whit  he  's  talkin'  aboot.    This 
record  has  stood  for  sax  year.     It  has 
been   of    the   greatest 
to   Muckle   Brigbrae. 


public  uteelity 
It  has  brocht 
hunderds  of  golfers  doon  every  simmer 
to  see  if  they  couldna  gang  roond  in 
seeventy-wan.  An  they  've  aye  come 
back,  wi'  their  wives  an'  families,  to 
hae  anither  lick  at  it.  An'  noo  this 
lad  Duncan  has  come  breengin'  in  wi' 
his  saxty-seeven — fair  ruination  to  the 
hoose-lettin'  for  next  season. 

[At  this  point  some  commotion  was 
caused  by  the  return  to  court  of 
JOHN  HENRY  TAYLOR  and  THOMAS 
BALL, accompanied  by  ALEXANDER 
HERD.  During  a  ivhispcrcd  con- 
sultation, in  which  counsel  and  the 


to  give  "an  under- 
are    his    professional 


"WOT  I  SEZ  IS,  A  MAN  CAN  DHINK  AS  MUCH  AS  'E  LIKES  SO  LONG 
AS  'E  DON'T  HINTERFERE  WITH  ME  ;  BUT  AS  SOON  AS  'E  HINTEB- 
FEEES  WITH  ME  *E  'S  A  NOOSANCE  TO  SOCIETY." 


accused  joined  them,  the  Provost  of 
MucJc'e  Brigbrae, producing  a  copy 
of  "  Funny  Cuts  "  from   his  um- 
brella, was  immediately  invited  to 
take  a  seat  on  the  Bench,  and  at 
once  consented  to  do  so. 
Mr.  MARSHALL  HALL.  M'  lud,  I  am 
pleased  to  say  that  the   prisoner  has 
consented,  on  the  advice  of   his  pro- 
fessional friends,  to  plead  guilty  to  an 
error  of  judgment,  and  in  these  circum- 
stances, and  in  view  of  the  undertaking 
which   I   have  obtained   from  himself 
and  his  friends,  the   Crown  will   not 
press  for  a  conviction.  (Loud  applause.) 
I  may  say  that  I  welcome  this  con- 
clusion to  proceedings  which  have  bsen 
conducted,   so   far  as    the   defence    is 
concerned,  with  the  scrupulous  fairness 
and   moderation    in    statement   which 
are  so  characteristic  of  my  friend. 

Mr.   SMITH.   I    have   to   thank   my 
friend  for  sentiments  which  I  heartily 


willing 


to 


reciprocate.      My  client  is 

admit  that  in  going  round  the  course 

of  Muckle  Bri«brae  in  67  strokes  he 


break  it  gently. 

Mr.  SMITH.  Quite  so,  m'  lud.  He 
meant  to  go  round  in  70  or  71,  as  his 
professional  friends  did.  But  in  his 
own  words,  "  The  ball  would  not  keep 
out  of  the  hole."  My  client  had  no 
animus  whatever  against  Mr.  Cattanach 
or  the  Town  Council  of  Muckle  Brig- 
brae.  Ho  is  willin  ' 
taking,  and  so 

friends,  that  in  playing  exhibition  games 
they  will  in  future  refrain  from  knock- 
ing more  than  two  strokes  ol'f  the  local 
amateur  record,  except  in  cases  where 
they  may  obtain  the  previous  consent 
in  writing  of  the  record-holder  and  the 
local  authority  to  reduce  the 
record  by  more  than  that 
number.  I  trust  that  this 
settlement  will  be  approved 
by  your  lordship,  and  also 
by  the  Provost  of  Muckle 
Brigbrae. 

The  Provost.  Weal,  aweel, 
the  mischeef  is  dune  noo. 
Wo  '11  jist  need  to  tryst  an 
extry  baurid  o'  peeryotts  for 
next  simmer. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING  (to 
the  jury).  As  nothing  humor- 
ous occurs  to  me  at  the 
moment,  I  suggest  a  formal 
acquittal,  gentlemen. 

The  Foreman.  Yes,  my  lord. 
And  the  jury  desire  to  add  a 
rider  in  the  form  of  a  recom- 
mendation that  Mr.  Duncan 
and  his  professional  brethren 
should  abstain  from  playing  at  all  on  the 
championship  courses  of  South-West 
Ireland,  Bohemia,  East  Rutlandshire, 
Buganda,  Bessarabia  and  St.  Kilda. 

Mr.  Justice  DARLING.   I   shall  for- 
ward this  recommendation  to  the  pro- 
per quarter.    The  accused  is  discharged. 
[The  prisoner  was  warmly  congratu- 
lated on  stepping  down  from  the 
dock.       0^ltside    the    court    some 
excitement    was    aroused    by    the 
eccentric  behaviour  of  an  Aberdo- 
nian  gentleman,  who  grasped  his 
young  fellow -townsman  by  the  arm, 
and  invited  him  to  tea  at  an  A. B.C. 
shop,    explaining,    in    a    burst    of 
generosity,  "  You  'II  can  tak'  tiva 
cups,  George,  an  it  'II  no  cost  you  a 
single  baivbec."] 


"  Now  in  a  dispute  of  the  kind  which  is 
threatened  there  are  three  parties  to  bo  con- 
sidered, the  employers,  the  men,  and  the 
public,  and  the  last  is  certainly  not  entitled  to 
the  least  consideration." — livening  Ncu'S. 

It  certainly  seldom  gets  it. 


SEPTKMHKU  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHAR1VAKI. 


273 


AN   Al'I'RiriATION. 

I  GOT  a  good  idea  to-day, 
A  hint  that  stuck  and  grew, 

The  very  thing  for  verso,  you  'd  say — 
Bright,  topical,  and  new. 

And,  as  I  wrote,  my  jest  maintained 

A  lino  crescendo  swell, 
Until,  the  grand  finale  gained, 

It  wound  up  rather  well. 

Then  to  a  neighbouring  typist-maid, 
Well  pleased  I  took  my  lay, 

And,  being  in  a  hurry,  stayed 
To  bring  the  lines  away. 

And  she  my  precious  bantling  bore 
Where  other  maidens  wrought, 

And,  through  the  half-closed  inner  door, 
I  watched  her ;  till  I  thought — 

"This  must  be  quite  a  change  for  her 

Whom  dull  MSS.  irk, 
Not  often  thus  can  wit  confer 

Such  glamour  on  her  work." 

And  so  I  stood,  and  looked  to  see 

How,  in  this  pleasant  case, 
My  sparkling  points  should  presently 

Irradiate  her  face. 

But  not  so  ;  oven  when  she  came 
Where  they  most  brightly  shone, 

Just  near  the  end,  'twas  all  the  same — 
Stolid  she  hammered  on. 

"Ah,  wait,"  I  thought,  "that  last  line 
read, 

She  '11  loose  her  pent  delight ;  " 
But  up  she  jumped,  and  all  she  said 

Was,  "  Wish  he  'd  learn  to  write  I  " 


SHOULD  SHE  HAVE  DONE  IT? 

IT  is  possible  that  the  question 
whether  Leonora,  the  heroine  of  one  of 
Sir  JAMES  BABBIE'S  new  plays,  should 
have  murdered  the  man  who  insisted 
on  the  railway  carriage  window  being 
kept  open,  will  be  a  topic  for  discussion 
for  some  time  to  come.  The  Pall  Mall 
Gazette  is  emphatically  of  opinion  that 
some  other  and  less  serious  crime  should 
have  been  committed,  the  capital  charge 
being  hardly  suitable  for  comic  treat- 
ment. And  it  is  certainly  the  case 
that,  had  Leonora  committed  larceny 
or  forgery,  or  even  blackmail,  instead 
of  murder,  there  might  have  been  a 
happier  laughter  inspired  by  the  play. 

At  the  same  time,  for  another  person 
to  keep  a  railway  carriage  window  open 
when  one  wants  it  closed  is  a  serious 
offence  and  merits  a  severe  punishment, 
tt  is  only  equalled  by  that  of  a  person 
who  closes  the  window  when  one  par- 
ticularly wants  it  open. 

On  the  other  hand  a  correspondent 
writes:  "Leonora  did  a  great  wrong. 
This  expression  of  affection  for  her 


Editor.  "Din  you  SAY  YOU  EVOLVED  THIS  JOKE  YOURSELF?"  Artist.  "I  DID,  SIB." 

Editor.  "  H'M,  AND  YET  YOU  DON'T  LOOK  MOKE  THAN  THIRTY  YEARS  OP  AGE." 


tittle  daughter,  who  was  suffering 
from  a  severe  cold,  was  an  unhappy 
error.  I  have  it  on  the  authority  of 
the  medical  press  that  for  a  cold, 
especially  bronchial  catarrh,  fresh  air 
is  the  only  adequate  specific.  I  do  not 
know  whether  Sir  JAMBS  BABBIE  makes 
it  clear  that  the  child  was  suffering 
From  bronchial  catarrh,  but,  unless  he 
definitely  states  that  it  was  another 
kind  of  cold,  I  think  that  we  may 
assume  that  the  malady  took  that  form. 
When  the  little  girl  got  home  she 
would  have  found  that  the  open  win- 
dow had  greatly  benefited  her.  It  was 
a  pity,  therefore,  that  Leonora  pushed 
ler  child's  would-be  benefactor  on  to 
;he  line." 

Another  correspondent,  whose  views 
are  different,  writes :  "  Every  morning 
[  have  the  misfortune  to  travel  to  town 
with  a  man  whose  obstinacy  causes  me 
iO  suffer  tortures  from  draught.  1 


support  Leonora  heartily  in  her  action. 
My  only  criticism  is  that  a  better 
victim  might  have  been  found." 

A  third  writes  :  "  But  was  it  murder  ? 
The  man  wanted  fresh  air,  and  to  that 
end  he  kept  the  window  open.  Leo- 
nora, being  an  intelligent  woman  (the 
author,  I  think,  makes  that  fairly  clear), 
argued  that  he  would  have  still  more 
fresh  air  if  the  door  also  were  open, 
and  for  his  good  she  opened  the  door. 
A  little  further  contemplation  (it  was 
but  the  work  of  a  moment)  caused  her 
to  conclude  that  the  lover  of  fresh  air 
would  find  more  outside  the  door  than 
in  the  carriage.  She,  therefore,  acted 
for  his  good." 

"  Mr.  Frank  Haskings,  of  Bathealton,  was 
reserved  in  a  young  bull  class  at  Dunster  Show 
on  Friday." — Wellington  Weekly  Ncu-s. 

No  doubt  the  strange  company  made 
him  shy. 


274 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SKI-TKMBEH  24,  1913. 


"A    ROGUE    IN    GRAIN." 

I  STOOD  for  some  time  outside  the 
dealer's  shop,  displaying  an  altogether 
fictitious  interest  in  its  altogether 
fictitious  antiques.  At  intervals  of  five 
minutes  1  swallowed  a  dose  of  tonic  in 
tabloid  form.  Finally  I  pulled  myself 
together  and  went  in. 

"I  have  come,"  I  said  to  the  pro- 
prietor, "  about  that  chair  which  I 
bought." 

If  I  had  any  romantic  notion  that  he 
would  behave  like  Macbeth  at  the  sight 
of  Banquo's  ghost,  I  was  promptly 
brought  back  to  earth. 

"That  Chippendale  'chair,"  he 
amended  briskly.  "  Yes,  Sir.  You  sent 
it  back.  I  have  it  in  the  yard  if  you 
want  to  look  at  it  again." 

I  didn't  ever  want  to  look  at  it  again. 
The  thing  was  a  fake.  An  expert  had 
told  me  so.  .  .  .  But  I  wanted  its 
former  owner  to  be  confronted  with  it, 
so  I  followed  him  into  the  yard,  hating 
him  immensely.  He  had  what  he  him- 
self might  have  described  as  a  bow 
front  and  baroque  features.  Also,  I 
knew  that  he  knew  that  he  knew  far 
more  about  antiques  than  I  did. 

But  I  had  bean  told  quite  positively 
that  the  chair  was  a  fake."  .  .  . 

He  looked  at  it  tenderly. 

"  As  nice  a  article  o'  furniture  as  any 
gentleman  could  wish  to  'ave  in  his 
library,"  he  apostrophized  it. 

I  produced  his  inveice. 

"  Genuine  eighteenth-century  Chip- 
pendale arm-chair,"  I  read  tentatively. 

"  Certainly,  Sir." 

"  I  propose  one  of  two  amendments. 
Either  '  genuine  twentieth  -  century 
Chippsndale  chair,"  or  'imaginary 
eighteenth-century  chair  with  Chippen- 
dale and  other  features.' " 

•I  had  prepared  this  speech  before- 
hand, together  with  the  cold,  acid 
tone  which  should  have  accompanied 
it.  Which  should  have  accompanied 
it.  ... 

"  In  other  words,"  said  the  dealer, 
with  a  deliberate  straightforwardness, 
"  — let  us  be  plain  about  it,  Sir,  if  you 
please — you  mean  that  I  "ve  set  my 
'and  to  that  invoice,  thereby  perpetu- 
ating a  fraud  ?  " 

"  Oh— er — I  didn't  mean  that,  "  I 
protested.  "  A — a  mistake,  perhaps." 
Dash  it  all !  If  it  was  I  who  was  mak- 
ing the  mistake,  my  attitude  was  an 
awkward  one  to  get  out  of.  I  oughtn't 
to  have  condemned  him  unheard. 

"  A  mistake  !  "  he  exclaimed  scorn- 
fully. "Mel  But  I  see  what  it  is. 
You've  been  got  at  by  one  of  these 
'ere  'experts,'  'aven't  you,  Sir?  " 

"  Well — er— a  friend  of  mine,"  I 
said.  "He  knows  quite  a  lot  about 
antiques.  At  least  .  .  .  ." 


"  /  know,  /  know !  These  'ore 
amacher  experts!  Come  now,  sir, 
what  did  'e  tell  you  was  wrong  with 
this  piece?  Before  I  alter  the  invoice 
I  'ope  you  '11  substantiate  your  state- 
ments asperative  to  its  authenticity. 
Under  English  law  even  a  antique 's 
innocent  until  proved  guilty." 

He  was  rallying  me  in  a  humorous, 
indulgent  sort  of  way,  and  I  felt  an 
awful  worm.  But  I  had  to  say  some- 
thing. 

"The  point  is,"  I  began,  "Chippen- 
dale never  made  a  chair  like  that — er 
—did  he?"  . 

"Perhaps  not  another  like  that,  Sir," 
said  the  dealer  gravely.  "  Of  course, 
that  chair  's  a  rarity — and  charged  for 
according,  I  admit."  • 

There  was  no  doubt  the  man  was 
honest,  or  he  'd  never  have  said  a  thing 
like  that. 

"I  see,"  I  said.  "  I  see  .  .  .  .  The 
fact  is,"  I  continued,  by  way  of  candid 
apology,  "I  thought — I  mean  I  was 
told — it  oughtn't  to  have  an  Adam  vase 
in  the  back  splat." 

"  No,  it  oughtn't!  "  agreed  the  dealer 
ecstatically.  "  By  all  the  accepted 
ideas,  it  oughtn't !  '  I  tell  you,  that 
chair  proves  something.  It  proves,"  he 
continued  enthusiastically,  "  that  Adam 
got  his  inspiration  hot  direct  from  the 
classic  furniture  periods,  but  via 
Chippendale.  That  chair 's  what  I  call 
a  missing  link.  It  '11  come  to  be  talked 
about." 

"  By  Jove !  will  it  really  ?  "  I  cried. 
"  Well,  what  about  the  Gothic  work  on 
the  rest  of  the  back  ?  And  the  Chinese 
legs?" 

These  had  been  other  counts  in  the 
expert's  indictment.  But  I  made  it 
clear  that  I  was  only  asking  for  in- 
formation, I  was  perfectly  satisfied. 

"Both  Chippendale  features,"  said 
the  dealer  gravely. 

"But — er — in  the  same  chair?"  I 
queried. 

"  It  looks  like  it,  don't  it?  I  don't 
care  for  it  myself— seems  a  mixture  of 
styles  to  my  mind — but  you  can't 
blame  me  for  what  Chippendale  chose 
to  do.  He  was  a  master  cabinet-maker; 
7'm  only  a  dealer." 

"  Of  course !  "  I  agreed.  "  I  suppose 
it 's  the  same  with  the  feet.  They  're 
Louis  Quinze,  aren't  they  ?  " 

"  Now  I  ask  you,  Sir,"  he  demanded, 
"  did  Louis  Quinze  come  before  Chip- 
pendale or  after  ?  " 

I  was  unable  to  tell  him,  and  anyway 
there  was  no  need.  It  was  perfectly 
obvious  that  in  either  case  one  of  them 
had  drawn  his  inspiration  from  the 
other.  And  the  more  incongruous  the 
decoration  seemed — by  all  the  accepted 
ideas — of  course  the  rarer  it  made  the 
chair. 


"  Er — you  '11  send  it  back  to-morrow 
then?  "  was  all  I  suiil. 

"  Very  good,"  he  replied  with  dignity, 
and  wo  returned  to  the  shop. 

Then  ho  was  so  ill-advised — for  it 
was  what  I  dreaded,  feeling  that  I 
deserved  it — as  to  begin  a  sermon. 

"  'Aving,  I  'ope,  convinced  you  of  my 
bond  fide,"  he  began,  "  I  don't  deny 
that  1  feel  'urt  by  your  suspicions.  Of 
course  there  arc  dishonest  dealers,  just 
as  there  's  dishonest  gentlemen.  ]f  I  'd 
been  one  of  them,  1  don't  deny  that 
there  's  other  features  about  that  chair, 
over  and  above  what  you  noticed,  that 
might  'ave  give  rise  to  doubt.  I  don't 
mind  pointing  them  out.  The  lack  of 
freedom  in  the  curves,  for  instance — 
the  modern  look  about  the  fretwork — 
the  state  of  preservation." 

.  Wasn't    he    carrying    his     candour 
rather  bej'ond  the  bounds  of  reason  ? 

"  As  a  matter  of  fack  the  lack  of  free- 
dom in -the  curves  is  a  most  useful 
indext  in  determining  the  date  of  the 
article.  It  shows  that  this  chair  was 
manufactured  while  Chippendale  was 
in  mourning  for  the  death  of  his  partner, 
'Aig.  I  'in  sorry  about  the  fretwork. 
I  touched  it  up  here  and  there  myself, 
because  it  iras  a  bit  dilapidated.  I 
wouldn't  have  done  it  if  I  'd  known  my 
word  was  going  to  be  doubted.  I 
bought  the  chair  off  an  old  lady  that 
'ad  just  discovered  it  in  an  old  cupboard 
in  the  panelling  of  'er  'ouse.  That's 
why  it 's  preserved  so  well  and  kept  , 
its  polish.  She  found  Chippendale's 
original  bill  for  it,  too,  and  I  wish  I 
more  than  ever  now  that  she  'adn't 
burned  it." 

I  had  been  convinced,  perfectly  con-  j 
vinced.     But   now    ...    in   the  per-  j 
sistence  of  his  endeavour  to  climb  the 
very  topmost  pinnacle  of  virtue,  I  felt 
that  he  was  toppling.  .  .  toppling.  .  .  . 

"  I  see  you  'ave  nothing  to  say,"  he 
resumed.  "  I  know  I  'ave  no  remedy 
against  these  aspersions  which  'ave 
been  made.  I  'm  only  a  dealer.  But 
speaking  to  you  as  a  gentleman,  Sir,  in 
a  way  which  1  'ope  you  will  understand, 
I  make  bold  to  say  that  your  way  of 
doing  business  is  Not  Cricket,  Sir— 
Not  Cricket ! " 

It  was  too  much.  On  the  instant 
he  tumbled  into  the  abyss  of  discredit. 
Again  I  pulled  myself  together,  telling 
myself  that  I  was  an  Englishman,  whose 
sires  had  fought  at  Lewes,  knowing  thai 
it  was  but  for  an  instant,  remembering 
that  the  door  was  close  at  hand,  i 

"  You  needn't  send  the  chair," 
said  quickly.  "  For,  speaking  to  youii 
a  way  which  I  hope  you  will  under 
stand,  I  can  only  say  that  your  way  o 
doing  business  is  Not  Chippendale. 
I  grasped  the  handle  of  the  dooi 
"Not  Chippendale,  Sir!  " 


SKI-TKMI.KB  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil    THK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


275 


Perfect  Ass  (to  coster).  "  EXCUSE  MY  ASKING,  BUT  WHEN  you  MEET  A  LADY  FIUEXD  HOW  DO  YOU  MANAGE  TO  BAISE  YOUB  HAT?  on 

CO  YOU   SIMPLY  DOW?" 


EN (1  LAND  ON   THE   UP-GEADE. 

IT  is  truly  gratifying  to  learn  that 
something  can  already  ba  written  off 
the  tale  of  national  disaster  recently 
recited  by  the  Duke  of  WESTMINSTER. 
A  great  many  championships,  it  is  true, 
ha.T  still  to  be  regained,  but  newspaper 
reports  during  the  past  week  show  that 
a  splendid  beginning  has  already  been 
made.  Not  only  has  a  new  world's 
record  for  the  100  yards  (Admirals') 
been  set  up,  but  a  number  of  other 
competitions  held  at  various  centres 
afford  convincing  evidence  that  the 
charge  of  national  decadence  is  to  say 
the  least  premature. 

At  Tunbridge  Wells  last  Friday  the 
annual  sports  of  the  British  Bathchair- 
men  was  held  with  resounding  success. 
The  great  event  of  the  day  was  the 
three-mile  bath-chair  slow  ra3e  with 
octogenarian  patients,  in  which  regard 
is  liiul  not  only  for  the  time  occupied  but 
the  comfort  of  tli3  parsons  propelled. 
Alter  an  exciting  nica  the  prize  was 
awarded  to  Jonah  CJawaier,  of.Eyde, 


who  completed  the  distance  in  3  hours 
27  minutes  33|  sees,  without  a  single 
jolt.  We  understand  that  the  Amalga- 
mated Society  of  British  Bathchairmen 
have  forwarded  an  application  to  the 
Olympic  Committee  for  a  grant  of 
£10,OUO. 

The  inter -county  meeting  of  the 
National  Wasp -Shooting  Association 
passed  off  with  great  eclat  at  Yealmpton 
last  Wednesday.  The  shield,  presented 
by  the  Worshipful  Company  of  Bee- 
keepers, was  won  by  the  Devonshire 
team,  who  used  the  new  cyanide  of 
potassium  pop-gun  with  deadly  effect. 
The  Olympic  Fund  Committee  have 
unanimously  decided  to  award  a  grant 
of  £15,000  to  the  N.W.S.A. 

The  annual  meeting  of  Merry-go- 
round  proprietors  took  place  at  Clacton- 
on-Sea  on  Saturday.  The  competition 
for  the  most  sonorous  steam-organ  was 
won  by  Messrs.  Bolsover  and  Gedge, 
of  Hull,  whose  organ,  fitted  with  a 
Parsons  auxetophone,  was  distinctly 
audible  at  Bishop's  Stortford,  Lowestoft 
and  Beccles,  while  Messrs.  Mailing  and 


Yamper's  organ,  driven  by  a  French 
Gnome  engine  and  fitted  with  a  German 
saxophone,  failed  to  carry  further  than 
Frinton  and  Thorpe  -  le  -  Soken.  The 
endurance  prize  for  passengers  was 
carried  off  by  Albert  Snodland,  of 
Turnham  Green,  who  completed  7,300 
revolutions  before  being  removed  in  an 
ambulance  to  the  Cottage  Hospital. 
A  special  grant  of  £500  has  been 
made  to  Mr.  Snodland  to  enable  him 
to  continue  his  training. 

"A  daring  robbery  was  discovered  at  the 
Bolton  Art  Gallery  yesterday  morning,  a 
picture  by  H.  Yerman,  entitled  'The  Old 
'Cellist,'  having  been  cut  from  its  frame  and 
taken  away.  A  second  picture,  '  The  Evening 
Drink,'  by  Sidney  Cooper,  was  found  in  a 
cellar." — Daily  Mirror. 
We  should  have  expected  to  find  the 
old  'cellist  next  to  it. 

1 '  The  island  had  dwindled  to  a  mere  perch  for 
sea  birds  200  yards  long  by  perhaps  50  broad." 

Mr.  Basil  Tliomson  in  "  The  Times." 
This  perch  is  one  of  those  rods,  poles 
or  perches,  apparently,  of  which  they 
told  us  in  our  youth. 


276 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBEB  24,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 


IF  a  young  author  wants  something 


was 


theories  might  intrigue  us,  but  not  the 
personality  of  his  puppets.     I,  for  one, 


on  which  to  flesh  his  satire-tooth  he !  found  so  little  attraction  in  the  wife 
could  hardly  choose  a  safer  subject  than  land,   of   course    I    was   not  meant  to 
Eugenics.     The  public  is  not  likely  to ;  find  much— that  I  entertained  no  con- 
have  its  most  sacred  feelings  lacerated  j  cern  whatever  about  the  issue. 


by  ridicule  of  this  latest  religion.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  must  not  expect 
that  the  fun  to  be  got  out  of  it  is  going 
to  be  uproarious.  Indeed,  the  picture  of 


Unfortunately  the  interest  of  all  this  j  something,  I  think,  from  Mrs.  PATBICK 
largely   academic.     The    author's  CAMPBELL,  but  also,  I  fear,  from  lesser 

models.  She  might  be  a  great  actress 
if  she  could  keep  away  from  the  stage. 
Miss  WEEDEN  as  Mary,  had  an 
uncongenial  part,  but  that  did  not  excuse 
her  staccato  manner.  Of  the  rest,  Miss 
GWYNNE  HEBBEIIT,  as  Margaret  Chis- 
holm's  mother,  was  adorable,  and  Mr. 
MALLESON  gave  a  clever  little  sketch  of 


Indeed 

interlude 


there   was 
in  which  I 


only    one    brief 
felt  that  I   was 


Jack  Chisholm  protesting  against   his   Mr.  CAMPBELL  GULLAN    introduced   a 

1         1  •          1        ,     !•          1       1  it  I-  I'l  *  I  I    1 


looking  at  life  and  not  at  the  drama-  a  eupeptic  crank. 

tisation  of  an  idea.     This  was  when       I  hinted  that  the  fun  to  be  got  out  of 


wife's  absorption  in  the  two  healthy 
children  he  had  given  her,  and  her  neg- 
lect of  all  further  interest  in  him  as  lover 
and  comrade,  was  quite  a  serious  one. 
For  he  was  bound  to  seek  consolation  in 
the  love  of  some  other  woman 
whose  "  life  he  could  fill " — a 
much  more  vital  thing,  in  his 
eyes,  than  the  mere  begetting 
of  sound  children. 

And  it  is  with  just  such  a 
companion  that  we  (and  his 
wife)  find  him  in  the  Second 
Act  against  a  background  of 
Italian  lake.  The  discovery— 
rather  crudely  constructed  —  is 
irksome  to  him,  for  lie  has  an 
incurable  taint  of  conjugality. 
Returning  to  London,  he  is 
made  to  confront  his  wife  in 
full  family  conclave — a  scene 
that  recalled  Mr.  STANLEY 
HOUGHTON'S  Hindle  Wakes,  but 
with  a  change  of  milieu  that 
made  it  hopelessly  improbable. 
Here,  in  an  eloquent  tirade 
addressed  to  the  secretary  of  a 
Eugenic  society,  a  lady-friend  of 
his  wife's,  he  declares  himself 
sick  of  all  this  enthusiasm  for 
the  younger  generation  and  the 
future  prospects  of  the  race. 
What  had  posterity  done  to 
deserve  his  consideration  ? 


delightful  breath  of  reality  into  the  very 
minor  part  of  a  Scotch  election-agent 
who  mistook  the  candidate's  mistress 
for  his  wife. 

The  practical  methods  of  Mr.  NORMAN 


Jack 


a  satire  on  Eugenics  was  not  likely  to 
be  uproarious.     Yet  the  subject  clearly 
lends  itself  to  a  certain  salacity ;  and 
the  suggestiveness  of  the   dialogue  in 
the  Third  Act,  where  the  wife's  sister, 
a  brazen  flapper  on  the  eve  of  marriage 
(played    with    great    gusto    by- 
Miss     BISDON),    discusses     the 
relations     of     married     people, 
vastly  tickled  the  pit. 

Oa  the  whole  I  should  like  to 
compliment  Mr.  HARWOOD  on 
what  I  understand  to  be  his 
first  production.  If  his  -work 
improves  as  his  play  improved 
in  the  course  of  its  progress, 
his  success  shou'd  be  assured; 
for  he  has  many  wise  and  happy 
thoughts  in  his  head,  if  he  can 
only  find  the  right  excuse  for 
their  utterance. 

"THE  HOUSE  OP  TEMPERLEY." 

I  have  just  assisted  at  a 
most  delightful  Cinematograph 
Exhibition  of  Sir  ABTHUB  CONAN 
DOYLE'S  popular  drama.  As  a 
play  of  action  (pugilistic)  it  is, 
of  course,  admirably  suited  to 
the  new  art  which  the  London 
Film  Company  have  brought 
almost  to  perfection.  To  those 
(Mr.  NOHMAN  TKEYOK)  to  Ins  llatoney  (Miss  _and  in  moments  of  bitterness 


A  JOCUND  LOVER. 


MIEIAM  LEWES).  "  I  haven't  felt  as  happy  as  this  for  years !  "    T 

I  have  been  of  their  company— 

A  civilised  |  TBEVOB  were  well  suited  by  the  rather  1  who  contend  that  the  ideal  play  would  be 
woman  had  higher  duties  to  her  husband   unromantic  part  of  the  husband.    When   one  in  which  the  actors  were  not  per- 


and   to   society   than   the   bringing  of  !  a  man  has  to  explain  to  his  mistress 


bouncing  offspring  into  the  world.  If 
that  was  the  sole  end  of  her  existence 
she  might  just  as  well — and  even  better 


why  he  doesn't  want  to  return  home, 
and  is  made  to  express  himself  in  these 
ponderous  terms :  "  I  shall  have  the 


be  a  savage  or  a  cow.  He  declines  j  daily  irritation  of  living  in  an  alien 
to  return  to  his  home,  and  settles  in  a  !  atmosphere,"  I  would  just  as  soon  hear 
bachelor's  flat,  keeping  up  his  liaison  Mr.  TEEVOR  say  it  as  anybody  else. 


with  discretion. 


To  those  who  recalled  Mr.  DENNIS 


But  the  atmosphere  of  London  differs  j  EADIE'S  performances  in  Mr.  GALS- 
from  that  of  an  Italian  lake  and  does  I  WOBTHY'S  Justice  and  other  strenuous 
not  encourage  irregularity  in  the  life  I  plays,  it  was  something  of  a  shock  to 
of  a  candidate  for  political  honours,  j  find  him,  as  the  wife's  brother,  in  the 
Chisholm  lacks,  too,  the  Bohemian  rdle  of  a  casual  cynic,  saying  smart 


spirit  and  a  natural  gift  for  impropriety. 
His  mistress — line  vraie  amourcuse, 
who  can  easily  replace  him  at  a  pinch — 
recognises  that  he  still  hankers  after 
domestic  felicity,  and  so,  in  the  course 
of  the  usual  interview  between  the 


two  women, 
his  wife. 


she    surrenders    him    to 


things  with  here  and  there  a  word  of 
worldly  wisdom.  Indeed  at  first  he 
seemed  a  little  contemptuous  of  his  part 
and  had  an  air  of  insincerity ;  but  this 
wore  off  and  one  grew  to  believe  in  him. 
Miss  MIRIAM  LEWES,  in  the  part  of 
Chisholm' s  lover,  showed  strong  natural 
gifts  of  gesture.  She  has  learned 


mitted  to  speak,  this  show  should  be  a 
pure  joy.  Never  was  better  acting 
done  by  Mr.  BEN  WEBSTER,  Mr 
CHABLES  MAUDE  and  the  rest  of  the 
cast,  excellent  right  down  to  the  tip  oi 


its   tail.     For  with  no   words   to 


saj 


they  had  to  rely  on  gesture  and  facia: 
expression — the  true  tests  of  the  actoi 
— and  these  they  employed  with  tha 
most  commendable  economy.  O.  S. 


"There  was  a  large  attendance  at  the  Ilollu- 
way  Institute,  Stroud,  on  Tuesday  evening, 
when  Mr.  H.  Page  Croft,  M. P.,  gave  an  ad- 
dress under  the  auspices  of  the  Imperial 
Mission.  .  .  . 

The  Chairman  referred  to  the  objects  and 
work  of  the  Imperial  Mission,  and  extended  a 
cordial  to  Mr.  Croft." — Gloucestershire  Echo. 
He  should  have  waited  till  after  the 
speech,  when  it  might  have  beer 
wanted. 


it  24,  1<)!H|         PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CIIA1UVARI. 


277 


Collector.  "  H'M — FAIRLY  GOOD  SPECIMEN.    I'LL  GIVE  YOU  FIFTY  POUNDS  FOB  IT." 

Curio  Dealer,  "No,  Sin.     I'VE  JUST  SOLD  THAT  FOB  A  HUNDRED  GUINF.AS." 

Collector.  "A  HUNDRED /     GOOD  HEAVENS,  YOU'VE  BEEN  SWINDLED.     IT'S  WORTH  TWICE  AS  MUCH  I" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
I  THINK  1  should  like  Tliorley  Weir  (SMITH,  ELDEU),  if  for 
no  other  reason,  for  the  unique  personality  of  its  villain. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  there  are  several  other  reasons,  but 
Craddock  remains  the  greatest.  I  question  if  Mr.  E.  F. 
BENSON  has  ever  done  better  character-drawing  than  this 
of  the  mean-souled,  middle-aged  egoist.  The  delightful 
thing  about  him  is  that  even  at  his  wickedest  he  is  never 
wholly  free  from  some  quite  human  lapses  into  nice  feeling. 
He  is  in  short  a  real  person  and  not  a  malevolent  machine, 
as  are  so  many  of  the  naughty  in  fiction.  I  can't  tell  you 
all  of  what  he  does,  because  that  would  be  to  give  away  the 
whole  interest  of  a  somewhat  slender  plot.  But  his  occu- 
pation in  life,  and  the  main  source  of  his  comfortable 
income,  was  speculating  in  genius.  You  take  me  ?  If  there 
were  now  men  with  plays  or  pictures  going  unrecognised, 
Craddock  would  encourage  them  by  taking  an  option  on 
their  future  output  at  a  figure  that  his  business  acumen  told 
him  would  become  exceedingly  cheap.  Amongst  others 
for  whom  he  did  this  was  the  painter,  Charles  Latham,  who 
was  so  grateful  and  lovable  that,  even  while  he  swindled 
and  slandered  him,  Craddock  could  not  help  a  secret 
admiration  for  the  boy.  Another  of  Craddock' s  speculations 
was  Frank  Armstrong,  the  dramatist,  whose  fortune  he 
made,  and  who  wasn't  in  the  least  bit  grateful,  but  detested 
him  for  it  in  a  manner  that  was  cordially  returned. 
Perhaps  you  don't  yet  see  where  the  villainy  comes  in ? 
For  that  you  must  read  the  story  itself;  you  will  find  it 


a  simple  tale  of  well-observed  characters  in  a  delightful 
riverside  setting.  And,  if  you  also  find,  as  I  did,  that  your 
sympathies  are  not  wholly  on  the  side  of  wronged  virtue, 
that  will  not  perhaps  lessen  your  enjoyment. 

In  the  detective  story  the  author's  business  is  to  make 
mystery  and  yours  to  unravel  it  if  you  can.  You  are  being 
played  with  ;  but  you  know  that  it  is  a  game  of  hide-and- 
seek  in  which  you  are  invited  to  join.  In  The  Devil's 
Garden  (HUTCHINSON)  Mr.  W.  B.  MAXWELL  plays  by  him- 
self; he  has  a  secret  and  keeps  it  for  over  two  hundred 
pages,  and  it  is  only  when  he  shocks  you  by  the  sudden 
exposure  of  it  that  you  become  aware  that  there  ever  was 
a  secret  at  all.  You  were  given  to  understand  that  a  cer- 
tain man  had  died  by  accident,  whereas  he  had  really  been 
murdered  ;  but  the  murderer  had  found  sufficient  trouble  in 
the  infidelity  of  his  wife  (palliated  after  the  murder  which 
avenged  it)  to  account  for  most  of  his  subsequent  heart- 
burnings and  eccentricities  of  conduct ;  and  so  the  reader 
harbours  no  suspicion.  Now  1  should  not  complain  of 
Mr.  MAXWELL'S  having  his  fun  to  himself— the  prospect  of 
making  the  reader  jump  with  surprise ;  the  joy  of  indefi- 
nitely delaying  that  surprise.  But  I  do  complain  that  in 
the  meantime  he  should  not  have  provided  us  with  a  little 
more  entertainment  to  go  on  with,  since  we  could  have  no 
share  in  his  own  sport,  aloof  and  Olympian.  For,  to  be 
candid,  there  are  in  the  centre  of  the  book  vast  tracts  of 
dull  country  ;  trivialities  that  seem  to  contribute  nothing  of 
any  purpose ;  chapter  after  chapter  that  begin  with  an 
ominous  air  of  promise  and  lead  you  nowhere.  The 


278 


PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  24,  1913. 


excellent  animation  of  the  opening  pages  may  have  made 
me  too  sanguine  of  adventure ;  anyhow,  I  had  to  bo  content 
with  a  very  masterly  analysis  of  character,  for  nothing 
further  happens  till  the  very  end.  There  is,  it  is  true,  a 
most  dramatic  account  of  the  process  of  the  murder  and 
the  paralysing  terror  that  followed;  but  this  is  all  merely 
retrospective.  The  author  could  not  at  the  same  time  have 
the  fun  of  keeping  his  murder  a  secret  for  years  and  years 
and  also  the  satisfaction  of  thrilling  us  with  suspense  over 
the  immediate  action  of  it.  • 

Mr.  MAXWELL  does  not  trouble  himself  much  about  his 
style,  which  is  simple  and  inornate;  ho  relies  upon  an 
unflinching  realism,  and  seeks  to  create  an  atmosphere  by 
insistence  on  details  whose  cumulative  effect  is  more  recog- 
nisable than  the  method  of  their  selection.  The  Devil's 
Garden  is  a  book  to  be  read  twice ;  once  for  the  surprise 
and  once  for  appreciation  of  the  author's  irony  and  his 
clever  handling  of  circumstances  now  first  seen  in  their 
true  significance.  And  if  this  review  is  bound  to  spoil  your 
surprise,  well,  you  can  omit  the  first  reading  and  go  straight 
on  to  the  second. 


Priscilla,  the  heroine  of 
Mrs.  ALFRED  SIDGWICK'S 
new  novel,  Below  Stairs 
(METHUEN),  is  a  delightful 
person,  and  it  is  pleasant  to 
me  to  think  that  there  are 
Priscillas  to  ba  found  in 
almost  every  household ;  it 
is  also  aggravating  to  me  toj 
consider  the  number  of  Pris-  \ 
cillas  whom,  in  the  past,  1 1 
have  stupidly  omitted  to 
observe.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  every  head  of  every 
house  in  this  country  will 
read  this  book  and  that  then 
it  will  be  passed  on  to  every 
cook  and  then  to  every  house- 
maid. Priscilla' s  adventures 
are  not,  for  the  most  part,  at 
all  highly  coloured  (I  am 
not  sure  about  the  German 
governess  and  the  gentleman 


UNRECORDED  ACTS  OP  KINDNESS. 

ALFRED  THE  CHEAT  PBESEKTS  HIS  MASTER  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER 
WITH  AN  ALARUM. 


cook),  and  if  anyone  has  ever  considered  that  an  explorer  in 
the  heart  of  Africa  has  less  horrible  adventures  than  a  small 
ordinary  scullery-maid  he  will,  after  his  perusal  of  this  book, 
be  once  and  for  ever  undeceived.  There  is  one  picture,  drawn 
for  me  by  Mrs.  SIDGWICK,  that  I  shall  never  forget— Priscilla 
sitting,  on  a  Sunday  evening,  terrified  in  a  grim  kitchen 
that  swarms  with  black-beetles,  knowing  that  there  is  no 
one  in  the  wide  world  who  desires  her  presence,  expecting 
to  hear  anon  the  sounds  of  her  drunken  mistress's  return : 
that  chapter  is  a  fine  piece  of  realistic  writing,  and  it  is 
as  dramatic  as  it  is  truthful.  Especially  admirable  is 
the  manner  in  which  Mrs.  SIDGWIOK  enables  her  heroine 
to  experience  every  variety  of  service  without  straining 
coincidence  or  appearing  hasty  in  her  development  of  the 
story.  Finally,  one  is  left  with  the  overwhelming  con- 
viction that  Mrs.  SIDGWICK'S  own  servants  must  have  the 


most  delightful  time, 
good  fortune. 


I  hope  that  Priscilla  realises  her 


Miss  MARJOEIE  BOWEN  has  apparently  been  consorting 
with  the  Pirate  Captain  in  Peter  Pan.  In  her  new  histori- 
cal romance,  The  Governor  of  England  (METHUEN),  she 
splits  her  infinitives  in  the  most  merciless  fashion.  "  To 
carefully  thread  them,"  "  to  any  longer  regard 


"  to  so  limit  tho  King's  authority,"  "  to  always  put  him," 
"  to  slowly  continue  their  walk,"  "  to  very  plainly  urge," 
and  "  to  now  and  then  make  some  remarks,"  are  tho  speci- 
mens that  I  have  culled  from  its  pages,  and  there  may  be 
others,  though  I  think  not,  for  I  have  read  it  with  the  care 
that  it  deserves.  Apart  from  these  instances  of  her  feminine 
defiance  of  modern  convention,  her  book  is  singularly  free 
from  blemishes.  In  writing  the  story  of  CKOXIWELL  and 
CHARLES  I.  it  would  be  very  easy  to  adopt  a  partisan  spirit. 
That  danger  she  has  successfully  avoided.  Tho  failings 
and  virtues  of  the  two  characters  are  plainly  and  fairly 
stated,  without  any  tendency  to  over-much  blame  or  praise. 
Another  striking  feature  of  her  story  is  that,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  every  single  character  in  it  is  historical;  there  is  thus 
none  of  the  contrast  between  real  and  imaginary  persons 
which  so  often  jars  in  books  of  this. kind.  Conversations 
and  thoughts  she  has,  of  course,  invented,  but  so  skilfully 
and  with  such  fine  taste  and  such  enlivening  touches  of 
sound,  colour,  movement,  atmosphere,  weather  and  even 
smell,  that  they  always  seem  to  be  the  real  thing.  I  con- 

1  gratulate    Miss    EOWEN    on  j 

having  made  a  human  and! 
original  story  out  of  materia 
so  well-worn.     At  the  sam 
time  I  venture  to  very  plain] 
urge   her   to  now  and  the 
refrain  from  maltreating  in 
nocent  little  parts  of  speed 

A  bswildering  number 
characters  flutter,  as  it  were 
111. -ought  the  loaves  of  Tl 
Watered  Garden  (STANLE 
PAUL)  and  the  whole  story : 
conducted  by  Mrs.  STEPNE 
BAWSON  in  an  abrupt,  jerk 
style  which  harmonises  no 
at  all  well  with  my  notion 
of  a  "  green  oblivion."  No 
unless  it  was  the  rather  per 
ennial  theme  that  one  ough 
to  do  some  serious  work-i 
the  world,  am  I  at  all  sur 
what  seed  of  purpose  th 
authoress  was  supposed  to  b 
cultivating  in  her  arboreal  plot.  Flirtation,  political  am 
bitions  and  the  foundation  of  a  quarterly  review,  entitle 
"  The  Amphitheatre, "  of  advanced  and  "  precious  "  tendencies 
and  costing  a  guinea  a  copy  (I  seem  to  see  the  gold  pourin 
out  upon  the  bookstalls),  occupied  for  tho  most  part  th 
minds  of  the  set  in  which  George  and  Ella  Pardew  (he  a  ric 
retired  manufacturer  and  she  a  beautiful  butterfly)  move< 
The  book  purports  to  be  the  impressions  of  Ella's  secretar 
garden-mistress  and  confidante,  and  almost  lady's  mai< 
Bettina  Gale,  who  finally,  by  one  of  those  chances  rai 
in  actual  life,  inherits  the  place  in  whose  garden  she  hf 
been  playing  the  hired  Pomona,  and  marries  a  brisk  your 
army  aeroplanist  with  a  desperately  facetious  turn  of  phras 
Bettina  seems  to  have  been  a  person  of  admirable  tac 
capacity  and  charm,  but,  somehow,  I  never  got  interest 
in  her  (I  think  the  authoress  took  ray  sympathy  too  mu< 
for  granted),  and  the  whole  novel  left  me  feeling  rath 
as  if  I  had  been  in  the  maze  at  Hampton  Court  than  ( 
the  spacious  lawns  of  Kew. 


1 '  MEN  THREATEN  TO  STOP 
EVERY  PASSENGER  CARRYING  VEHICLE." 

Daily  Mirror. 

him,"  I "  Now  then,  young  man,  put  that  motor-'bus  down !  " 


OCTOBER  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  OHAUIVARr. 


279 


CHARIVARIA. 

WE  hear  that  it  afforded  some  little 
consolation  to  RAY  and  YAUDON  for 
their  failure  to  win  tho  American  C!olf 
Championship  to  see  the  victorious 
OUIMET  being  kissed  by  excited  Ameri- 
can ladies.  x.  * 

"An  anonymous  gift  of  £-r),000,"  says 
The  Daily  Mail,  "  has  been  sent  to  the 
Bishop  of  WINCHESTER  towards  the 
Portsmouth  Six  Churches  Fund.  The 
total  is  now  £42,000,  and  only  £8,000 
is  required."  It  is,  of  course,  no  affair 
of  ours,  but  we  cannot  help  feeling  a 
little  bit  curious  as  to  what  is  going  to 
be  done  with  the  balance. 

••!.'    -\~ 

"  Are   Women    Clubable  ?  "    asks    a  j 


contemporary. 
kindly  reply  ? 


Will  the  Dublin  police 


Herr  BEBEL  has  left  a  fortune  of 
about  £47,000.  Not  bad  this  for  a 
Socialist.  ,:.  * 

The  fact  that  one  of  the  light  cruisers 
of  this  year's  naval  programme  is  to  be 
called  Caroline  draws  attention  to  the 
curious  omission  of  the  names  Mary 
Ann  and  Jane  from  the  Navy  List. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  so  many  of 
our  horses  are  now  purchased  for 
foreign  armies  it  is,  we  hear,  being 
considered  whether  it  might  not  be 
possible  to  train  these  animals,  before 
they  leave  the  country,  to  desert  to  us 
in  the  course  of  hostilities. 

:|:  ^  :;-. 

A  dear  old  lady,  hearing  that  the 
Defender  is  to  havo  sails  made  of  silk 
for  the  race  for  the  America  Cup,  has, 
it  is  said,  offered  to  present  Sir  THOMAS 
LIPTON'S  yacht  with  a  set  of  satin 
sails  trimmed  with  plush,  so  that  the 
British  boat  shall  not  look  shabby  by 
comparison. 


The  Standard  has  been  publishing 
the  views  of  authors  and  artists  on  the 
question  of  the  value  of  illustrations  in 
novel.-;.  The  artists  are  in  favour  of 
them.  ,,.  ... 

'  *  " 

It  is  a  nice  question  whether  the 
translator  of  the  play  by  KINO  NICHOLAS 
OF  MONTENEGRO,  which  has  just  been 
published  by  Mr.  EVELEICIH  NASH,  was 
well  advised  to  retain  the  original 
names  of  tho  characters,  considering 
that  one  of  the  most  prominent  of 
these  is  called  Stanko. 

*    * 

Once  more — this  time  at  Tiverton — 
a  family  has  been  saved  by  a  cat's  giving 
an  alarm  of  fire.  The  dog  world  is,  we 
hear,  much  exercised  at  the  increasing 


A    SUCCESSFUL   TRIAL. 

["Scientists  arc  experimenting  to  discover  whether  plants  can  fool  pain." — Dailg Payer.] 


tendency  on  the  part  of  cats  to  usurp ' 
their  functions,  and  a  meeting  is  shortly 
to  be  held  to  consider  the  situation, 
which  so  closely  resembles  the  invasion, 
among  humans,  of  men's  rights  by 
women.  ...  ... 

A  strike  on  tho  part  of  publishers' 
bookbinders  is  threatened.  Mr.  MURRAY 
announces  that  he  is  issuing  Miss 
CHOLMONDELEY'S  new  novel  Notwith- 
standing. ...  ... 

I  ^ 

The  Express  u  offering  a  prize  of 
£200  for  a  serial  story.  One  of  the 
conditions  runs :  "  Competitors  must 
enclose  sufficient  postage  to  ensure 
proper  return  of  manuscript."  It  is 
said  that  a  Scotch  competitor  has 
written  to  enquire  whether  the  stamps 


would  be  returned  in  the  event  ol  his 
winning  the  prize. 

Our  Frustrated  Feuilletona. 
I. — THE  COSMOPOLITAN. 

DEVEREUX  knew  Boulogna  inti- 
mately. Three  times  had  be  been  then 
on  daily  trips.  In  many  respects  ha 
preferred  it  to  Brighton. 

[Won't  some  one  —  Mr.  ARTIIUB 
APPLIN  or  one  of  those  fluent  follows 
in  the  halfpenny  papers — go  on  with 
this?]  ' 

"  As  II 's  hook  and  line  caught  hU  ej» 

— '  What 's  tha  meaning  of  this?'  he  asked. 
•  Don't  you  know  that  your  hook  u  illegal  7 '  " 
Daily  Teleyraph. 

We  should  hare  said  something  much 

stronger. 


280 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


THE   SPORTING   SPIRIT. 

LIKE  to  the  tar  (in  COLERIDGE)  who 

Contrived  with  glittering  orhs  to  freeze  on 
The  stranger  at  the  wedding  feast, 
I  love  all  sorts  of  bird  and  beast, 
And  cannot  think  what  I  should  do 
Without  them — in  the  shooting  season. 

But  first  of  things  that  fly  or  run 
I  love  the  hare  to  mere  distraction ; 
I  love  him  roast,  I  love  him  jugged, 
But  best  I  love  him  lying  plugged, 
When  it  has  been  my  private  gun 
That  put  his  trotters  out  of  action. 

Great  is  the  partridge  as  he  flies 
(A  natural  gift)  across  the  clover; 
But  often,  brooking  no  delay, 
He  is  a  field  or  so  a\vay 
Before  you  grasp  the  thought  that  lies 
Beneath  the  simple  phrase  "  Mark  over !  " 

Good  is  the  pheasant;  fully  fed, 
He  makes  a  most  superb  objective; 
But  so  magnetic  is  his  tail 
That  it  attracts  the  deadly  hail 
Which  should  have  hit  him  in  the  head, 
Where  blows  are  always  more  effective. 

I  like  the  bunny ;  but  he  lacks 

A  sense  of  sport:  he  swerves  and  dodges; 
Seldom  runs  straight — the  honest  plah: — 
Nor  keeps  the  open  like  a  man, 
But,  even  as  your  weapon  cracks, 

Enters  the  low  haunts  where  he  lodges. 

But,  oh  the  hare!     In  him  I- trace 
A  nature  nobler  than'  the  rabbit's ;     "•. .    • 
Big  as  his  body  (which  is  large 
And  gives  the  eye  an  ample  marge) 
He  scorns,  as  something  rather  base, 
The  coney's  too-secretive  habits. 

He  nests  beneath  the  open  sky 
Just  where  the  larks  compose  their  carols; 
Sits  up  that  you  may  have  no  doubts 
Of  his  immediate  whereabouts, 
Then  runs  as  straight  as  any  die, 

An  obvious  butt  for  both  your  barrels. 

And  that  is  why  I  love  the  hare 

Better  than  all  and  praise  him  louder ; 
To  me  hd  represents  the  pure 
And  perfect  type  of  amateur, 
With  whom  I'd  always  gladly  share 

My  last  remaining  pinch  of  powder.         0.  S. 


A  Welcome  Change. 

"Tho  marriage  arranged  between  Mr.  Charles  Bayley  and  Miss 
Vicleiit  Brett  will  take  place  quietly  at  Motihari." — Statesman. 


Important  Ruling  by  the  House  of  Lords. 

"  The  Chairman  of  Committees  :  Before  the  Motion  to  read  the  Bill 
a  third  time  is  taken,  I  would  ask  your  Lordships  to  make  three 
small  Amendments,  which  I  can  assure  you. are  practically  nothing 
more,  except  in  one  case,  than  setting  right  misprints.  In  page 
52,  line  4,  the  words  "to  prevent  effectually  "  should  read  "to 
effectua lly  prevent . ' ' — Hansard. 

After  this  official  pronouncement  we  are  wondering  if  it  is 
legal  to  under  any  circumstances,  and  if  so  which,  use  an 
unsplit  infinitive. 


MINISTERIAL    MISFITS. 

MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL,  on  the  occasion  of  his  recent 
visit  to  Buckingham,  has  elicited  a  stern  rebuke  in  the 
current  issue  of  Men's  Wear.  The  evidence  is  unanswer- 
able, being  that  of  the  camera,  which  shows  him  "  wear- 
ing a  square  felt  hat,  still'  linen  collar  with  large  wings,  a 
bow  necktie,  a  lounge  coat  with  flap  to  the  outside  breast 
pocket,  kid  gloves,  and  trousers  which  look  like  a  cross 
between  a  pair  of  riding  breeches  and  of  woollen  panls, 
the  pants  part  having  large  creases  at  the  lower  part  of  the 
leg.  To  complete  this  extraordinary  rig-out,  the  right  lion, 
gentleman  thought  it  a  iit  and  proper  tiling  to  put  on  a 
pair  of  button  boots.  These  boots  are  the  worst  iniquity 
in  an  iniquitous  conglomeration  of  unsuitable  clothing ;  they 
positively  make  one  shudder." 

We  regret  to  say  that  Mr.  CHURCHILL  is  not  the  only 
sartorial  offender  in  the  Cabinet.  Paradoxical  as  it  may 
appear,  by  far  the  greatest  outrages  against  the  laws  of 
fashion  are  committed  by  one  who  as  a  rule  is  scrupulously 
particular  in  his  attire — Mr.  LULU  HARCOURT.  In  him  the 
old  saying,  Corruptio  optimi  passima,  receives  a  new,  a  pain- 
fully vivid,  illustration.  Clad  as  a  rule  with  a  meticulous 
correctitude,  Mr.  HARCOUHT  is  subject  to  occasional  fits  of 
slovenly  eccentricity,  in  which  lie  "goes  Fanti"  in  his  dress. 
The  last  time  he  was  seized  in  this  way  was  when  he  was 
out  grouse  shooting  on  the  Yorkshire  moors.  To  the  horror 
of  the  other  members  of  the  party  he  appeared  in  a  pair  of 
gray  flannel  trousers,  a  frock  ccat  and  a  straw  hat.  Worse 
still,  he  had  dispensed  with  a  collar  and  wore  a  pair  of  white 
tennis  boots.  The  Baron  DE  FOREST,  who  was  one  of  the 
party,  was  so  much  upset  that,  although  a  strict  teetotaler, 
he  had  to  be  revived  with  a  stiff  tumbler  of  sal  volatile  and 
ammoniated  quinine,  while  Lord  LONSDALE  felt  obliged  to 
send  a  telegram  of  protest  to  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR.  It  is 
generally  felt  that  the  doom  of  the  Cabinet  cannot  be  long 
delayed  when  prominent  Ministers  behave  in  this  way. 
Only  last  week  Lord  HALDANE  was  seen  at  a  dinner-party 
wearing  a  white  tie  with,  a  turn-down  collar!  And  more 
than  once  Mr.  SAMUEL  has  beeiji  suspected_of  wearing  a 
dicky  secured  with  a  couple  of  postage  stamps. 


PICK   OF   THE    LITTER. 

BEAGLE  puppy,  a  fortnight  old, 

Squirming  sluggishly  in  the  straw, 
You  "re  only  conscious  of  warmth  and  cold 

And  the  chastening  pat  of  a  parent  paw. 
Fat  as  butter,  liver  and  white, 

Stern  and  shoulder  as  black  as  jet — 
Pick  of  the  litter  ?     Perhaps  they  're  right. 

Bather  early  to  say  as  yet. 

Well,  you  come  of  a  worthy  pair, 

Punter  and  Priestess,  two  of  the  best- 
Punter,  who  '11  sing  to  the  line  of  a  hare 

And  hold  it  longer  than  all  the  rest ; 
Priestess,  who  collars  the  leading  place 

From  find  to  finish,  from  cast  to  view — 
If  you  've  got  your  mother's  manners  and  pace, 

Her  nose  and  her  bone  and  her  ribs,  you  '11  do. 

Mottled  barrel  of  puppy  hood, 

Nuzzling  muzzle  cool  and  wet, 
Next  year's  pride  of  the  pack  (touch  wood) — 

Bather  early  to  say  as  yet. 
Grim  distemper  may  lurk  ahead  ; 

Deadly  "yellows"  may  lay  you  low; 
Perish  the  thought — we  '11  hope  instead 

For  a  possible  pot  at  the  Puppy  Show. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


THE    LANDLORD'S    NEMESIS. 

PHEASANT  (on  the  eve  of  the  First).  "  THEY  'EE    GOING    FOR    ME    TO-MORROW." 
MR.  LLOYD  GEOKGE  (fully  armed  for  future  events).  "DIE    HAPPY,    BIRD1      TEN    DAYS    LATER 
I  'M    GOING    FOR    THEM." 

[The  opening  of  the  CHANCELLOR'S  Land  Campaign  is  promised  for  October  11.] 


OCTOJSF.R  1,  1913.] 


rrxcir,  OR  TIIK  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


283 


r- 


Farmer  (in  position  of  absolute  safety,  at  "  sqmre  leg,"  to  golfer  wlio  has  just  driven).    '"EuE,  YOUXG   FELLEB,   YEB  DIDN'T 

OUGHT  TO   'IT  YEB  BALL  WHEN   I  *M   AS  CLOSE   AS  THIS  I  " 

Golfer.  "Do  YOU  KNOW  ANYTHING  AT  ALL  ABOUT  THE  GAME  OF  GOLF?" 
Farmer.  "YES,  I  DO.    I  WAS  ONCE  'IT  IN  THE  STOMACH!  " 


MY  DAY'S  PLEASURE. 

I  DISCOVERED  the  other  day  that  one 
could  hire  a  motor-'bus.  I  immediately 
took  steps,  and  on  the  following  morn- 
ing a  bright  one  drew  up  before  the 
door  of  Charlemagne  Palace  Mansions, 
and  I  felt  that  I  was  going  to  have  the 
time  of  my  lifa.  I  was  not  mistaken. 

I  had  attired  myself  appropriately, 
and  my  sister-in-law  had  promised  to 
come  with  me  as  a  passenger.  But 
she  is  always  late;  so  I  drove  round  to 
her  house. 

I  don't  mean  to  imply  that  I  sat  at 
the  wheel;  there  was  a  man  for  that 
who  knew  exactly  what  to  do,  and 
invariably  did  it — a  most  remarkable 
man,  named  Wilson.  No,  I  simply 
mean  I  gave  directions,  and  myself 
occupied  the  footboard.  Hence  the 
need  for  an  appropriate  costume.  When 
I  say  appropriate,  I  am  willing  to  admit 
that  the  bat  was  of  rather  a  marked 
type. 

The  company,  who  was  most  obliging, 


bad  insisted  on  the  'bus's  being  marked 
Private;  had  insisted,  in  fact,  with  a 
firmness  I  was  not  prepared  for  in  so 
urbane  a  personage.  1,  you  know,  had 
wanted  all  those  nice  boards,  with 
names :  Hampstead,  Bethnal  Green, 
and  Hvdo  Park  Corner.  But  the  com- 
pany was  as  firm  as  a  rock  on  this 
point.  It  took  me  several  minutes  to 
realise  how  firm  he  was. 

However,  lots  of  people  didn't  notice 
Private,  so  no  great  harm  was  done. 
I  flatter  myself,  if  you  'd  heard  me  call 
out  things  like  "  Tottenham  Court 
Road ;  a  penny  all  the  way,"  you  'd 
have  thought  1  'd  been  doing  nothing 
else  from  infancy.  My  sister-in-law, 
at  any  rate,  said  it  was  as  good  as  a 
circus.  She  may  have  been  partial  or 
she  may  not,  but  that  was  what  she 
said. 

The  people  wanted  tickets;  but  I 
explained  that  1  was  running  that  'bus 
as  a  private  venture  and  that  I  was 
giving  them  excellent  value  for  their 
money,  and  they  were  soon  pacified. 


Except  a  commercial  traveller,  who 
was  in  a  hurry  and  wanted — really  did 
want — to  go  to  Tottenham  Court  Road. 
He  said  be  bad  an  appointment  or 
something. 

"  Why  didn't  you  mention  you  wanted 
to  go  to  Tottenham  Court  Road,  old 
top?"  I  asked  him. 

I  admitted  that  I  had  suggested 
Tottenham  Court  Road,  and  I  was  quite 
prepared  (I  told  him)  to  go  to  Totten- 
ham Court  Road,  or  much  farther,  pro- 
vided I  could  get  the  right  sort  of 
passengers.  But  I  put  it  to  him  : 

"  If  the  public  won't  support  you, 
what  are  you  to  do?  " 

I  called  his  attention  to  the  fact  that 
out  of  a  load  of  eight  or  ten  souls  he 
was  the  only  one  who  seemed  inclined 
for  Tottenham  Court  Road ;  and  I  asked 
him,  was  it  fair,  was  it  reasonable,  was 
it  even  decent  that  his  wishes  should 
prevail  over  those  of  an  overwhelming 
majority  ? 

He  asked  me  whether  I  went  to 
Hanwe'.l  by  any  chance. 


284 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


I  know  what  ho  meant. 
However,  I  gave  him  back  his  fare; 
told  him  that  no  one  regretted  the  inci- 
dent more  than  I  did;    hut  with  one 
passenger  wanting  to  go  to  Tottenham 
Court  Road,  another  to  Richmond,  and 
several  to  the  Nag's  Head,  Holloway, 
what  were  you  to  do?     "You   can't 
plea-io    everybody    in    this   world,"    I 
added  as  I  helped  him  off  the  'bus.^ 
It  was  my  prices  that  fetched  'em. 
My  sister-in-law  —  I'd  better  call  her 
Rosamund  at  once  and  have  done  with 
it  —  said  I  was  putting  'em  too  low  ; 
said  that  no  one  would  expect  to  travel 
from  Hyde  Park  Corner  to  Richmond, 
viii  Baling  Broadway,  for  tuppence. 
But,  I  said,  you  never  knew  what 
anyone  would   expect   in   this   world; 
and  wasn't  it  about  time  for  lunch  ? 
It  was  afc  this  point  that  the  old  lady 
who   had   said  she  wanted   to   go   to 

brought  the  'bus  up  with  a  jerk  right 
across    the   tram-lines.     With    all   the 
hurry  and  bustle  around  mo  I  didn't 
notice  the  trams  at  first,  but  when  my 
attention  was  called  to  them  I  saw  that 
we  were  in  their  way,  for  they  extended 
in  a  long  line  ever  so  far  ;  and  the  con- 
ductors and  drivers  and  people  were  all 
getting   off   and   crowding   round    my 
'bus,  except  those  that  stayed  behind 
to  sound  their  gongs.    I  soon  saw  what 
would  happen  if  this  sort  of  thing  went 
on  —  I  should  get  flurried. 
My  man  was  sitting  stolidly  at  the 
wheel,   just    as    though    nothing    was 
happening.     I  went  round  to  him. 
"  Look  here,"  I  said  to  him,  "I  can 
see  what  you  're  trying  to  do  —  you  're 
trying  to  spoil  my  day's  pleasure." 
The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that 
Rosamund  talked  the  policeman  over 
and  put  all  the  blame  on  the  chauffeur. 

LITERARY  GOSSIP. 

A  NEW  venture  of  great  interest  and 
attractiveness  has  been  planned  by  Mr. 
Goodleigh  Chump,  being  nothing  less 
than  a  series  of  Banworthy  Books,  in 
which  the  great  elemental  problems  of 
life  will  be  treated  with  a  noble  and 
fearless  candour.  The  series  will  start 
with  The  Confessions  of  a  Super-Gad,  by 
Mr.  Max  Abel,  in  which  the  struggles, 
privations  and  ultimate  triumph  of  a 
guttersnipe  of  genius  will  be  traced 
with  that  ruthless  realism  for  which 
Mr.  Abel  has  long  been  celebrated. 

The  next  volume  will  be  The  Souvenirs 
of  a  Sliystcr.  In  this  wonderful  work 
Mr.  Condy  O'Doll  has  incorporated 
his  variegated  experiences  as  a  lift- 
boy, bootblack  and  sewage-farmer  in 
Pittsburgh  and  other  great  industrial 

Richmond  —  who,  in  fact, 
had  been  the  originator  of 
the  Richmond  idea — got  up 
violently  and  announced  her 
intention  of  reporting  me  to 
the  company. 

"  Don't  do  that,"  I  said. 
"  He 's  such  a  nice  man,  and 
he  wouldn't  take  the  least 
notice  of  you." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  go 
to  Richmond  ? "  inquired 
Rosamund. 

But  she  would  hold  no 
parley  with  Rosamund ; 
called  her  names,  in  fact, 
for  talking  to  the  conductor. 
Of  course  I  had  to  interfere. 

1  can  be  firm  myself  when 
I  choose,  and  I  was  firm 
with  that  old  lady.  1 
handed  her  off  the  vehicle. 

We  were  not  properly  full  up  till 
we  got  to  Hammersmith ;  then  there 
wasn't  room  to  move.  You  talk  of 
strap-hangers  !  You  should  have  seen 


THE   IRONIES  OF  LIFE. 

THE  QUEUE  WAITING  FOB  THE  OPENING  OP  THE  PIT  AND  GALLERY 
DOORS,  ALDWYCH  THEATRE. 


my  'bus. 
I  kept   on 


And  to  make  matters  worse 
ringing  the   bell.    I  liked 


doing  that,  but  I  didn't  always  do  it  at 
the  right  time.  The  motor-man  stoppsd 
once,  right  in  the  middle  of  the  traffic, 
and  got  off  his  seat  and  came  round  to 
me  and  wanted  to  know  what  the  so- 
and-so  I  thought  1  was  playing  at. 

"  It 's  all  right,  old  thing,"  I  said.  "  I 
only  want  a  little  practice.  We  '11  have 
lunch  at  Baling  Broadway,  so  hurry 
up  and  get  a  move  on  you." 

He  went  back  and  got  such  a  move 
on  him  that  he  nearly  ran  over  a 
policeman.  It  was  partly  the  police- 
man's own  fault.  He  stood  in  the 
road  pointing  out  that  there  was  some- 
thing the  matter  with  the  'bus  ;  it  was 
infringing  some  regulation  or  other. 
Worse  than  that  (so  he  said),  it  was 
stopping  all  the  trams.  My  man  had 


All  the  chauffeur  said  was : 

"  Never  again  !  " 

He  kept  on  saying  this  till  I  asked 
him  what  he  was  pleased  to  mean  by  it, 
and  then  he  relapsed  into  an  unsociable 


silence. 

"  Look  here,  my  man,"  I  said ; 


'I've 


got  a  bit  of  a  temper  myself,  but  I  'm 
thankful  to  say  it  isn't  a  sulky  one." 

He  was  better  after  that. 

But  the  policeman,  you  know,  made 
himself  very  officious;  said  I  mustn't 
carry  passengers,  hadn't  got  a  licence 
or  something.  As  if  you  wanted  a 
licence  for  a  sister-in-law  ! 

However,  I  needn't  go  into  that. 
Most  of  the  passengers  stuck  by  me 
like  Britons.  Of  course  I  couldn't  take 
any  more  money  after  what  the  Law 
had  said,  but  we  all  went  on  to  Rich- 
mond and  had  lunch  at  the  "  Roebuck." 
It  was  a  jolly  lunch,  but  rather  mixed, 
of  course.  The  landlady,  at  any  rate, 
seemed  to  think  so.  She  said  the  same 
as  the  motor-man  had  said : 

"  Never  again! " 


centres  of  the  United  States. 
Mr.  Chump  has  himself 
written  a  vivid  "  Foreword," 
in  which  he  asserts  that  in 
the  whole  course  of  his  career 
as  a  publisher  he  has  never 
been  so  thoroughly  raked  up 
as  by  Mr.  O'Doll's  recital. 
"  I  read  the  MS.  at  one  sit- 
ting," he  says, "  disregarding 
meals  and  business  engage- 
ments, and  at  the  close  I 
could  not  resume  the  thread 
of  my  ordinary  existence 
until  t  had  taken  a  Turkish 
bath." 

Next  we  are  promised  The 
Peregrinations  of  a  Pip- 
squeak, a  picaresque  ro- 
mance by  Mr.  Brompton 
Mr.  Chump  again  con- 
tributes a  prefatory  note,  in  which  he 
tells  us  that  his  reader  fainted  twice 
during  the  perusal  of  the  work  in  its 
original  form.  To  guard  against  heart 
failure  in  the  case  of  the  public, 
Mr.  Chump  has  generously  undertaken 
to  supply  a  small  phial  of  digitalis  with 
each  copy  sold.  


MacGregor. 


The  Land  of  Tosh  is  the  gay  and  \ 
insouciant  title  of  a  volume  of  essays 
by  the  witty  hmmourist  who  veils  his 
identity  under  the  pseudonym  of 
"  Sileas."  Another  volume  of  out- 
standing interest  is  the  budget  of  re- 
miniscences promised  by  Mr.  Mack  B. 
Lalor,  under  the  title  of  Horscwhip- 
pings  I  have  earned.  Altogether,  the 
series  promises  to  be  a  thumping,  or, 
as  a  witty  friend  of  the  publisher's  puts 
it,  a  Chumping  success. 

"  '  YESTEBDAY'S  FOOL'  BEGINS  TO-DAY." 
Daily  Mail. 

Some  people  never  know  when  to  stup. 


OCTOBER  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


285 


A  SYMPATHETIC  STRIKE. 

'  THERE  was  one  little  item  of  news  in 
connection  with  tho  labour  troubles  in 
jDublin  tbo  gravity  of  which  has,  it 
Appears,  been  entirely  overlooked.  It 
was  communicated  by  The  Daily  Mail's 

•.pondent,  who,  speaking  of  tbo 
spread  dft  be  strike  to  the  farm  labourers 
'in  (In1  neighbourhood,  foreshadowed  in 
la  stirring  passage  the  coming  of  a  period 
of  agricultural  chaos.  All  work  was  at 
'a  standstill,  and  not  only  that,  but 
pnthatched  stacks  were  rotting  (ho 
announced)  for  want  of  thrashing  and 
turnips  wore  decaying  in  tho  fields. 
'Our  text,  so  to  speak,  will  be  found  in 
these1  last  striking  words,  and  especially 
'in  the  unprecedented  behaviour  of  the 
'turnips. 

At  first  wo  were  frankly  incredulous. 
'We  found  it  hard  to  believe  that  turnips 
in  the  month  of  September  (when  they 
may  generally  be  counted  upon  to  make 
their  greatest  growth)  should  thus,  in 
'defiance  of  Nature's  laws,  have  sud- 
'denly  begun  to  waste  away;  and  our 
!own  stacks,  whenever  we  have  had 
the  good  fortune  to  possess  any,  have 
usually  endured  for  several  weeks  with- 
out much  damage,  even  if  they  were 
unthatched.  Still,  the  idea  haunted  us  ; 
iwe  could  not  dismiss  it  from  our  mind. 
;Wo  felt  that  it  should  be  looked  into, 
'and  at  last  we  despatched  a  Special 
•Correspondent  to  investigate  upon  the 
•spot.  To-day  wo  are  able  to  give  his 
'report — a  report,  wo  may  say,  which 
jhas  profoundly  moved  us. 

"I  have  made  my  way  [he  writes] 
'through  many  acres  of  decaying  turnips, 
'whose  odour  was  almost  insupportable, 
'to  a  small  farm-steading  seventeen  miles 
'from  Dublin,  where  I  have  found  a  re- 
markable state  of  affairs.  I  may  say 
at  once  that  the  extent  of  the  damage 
has  been,  if  anything,  underestimated. 
.1  set  to  work  without  delay  upon  a 
careful  investigation.  The  first  thing 
that  attracted  my  notice  was  a  heap 
of  fire-wood  near  the  back  door.  It 
was  entirely  covered  by  purple  fungi, 
attributed  by  the  farmer  to  the  fact  that 
it  had  not  been  dusted  for  several  days. 
I  ii"xt  took  a  look  at  the  supply  of 

-1  cake  in  the  barn,  which  I  found 
in  an  advanced  state  of  disintegration, 
much  of  it  already  having  crumbled  to 
dust.  But  perhaps  the  most  surprising 
discovery  that  1  made,  and  one  that 
immediately  banished  my  scepticism, 
was  when  I  put  my  head  into  the 

hcd.  After  watching  carefully  for 
some  minutes  I  came  to  the  amazing 
conclusion  that  the  hay  was  slowly 
evaporating,  and  the  farmer  assured 
me,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he  had 
lost  nearly  two  tons  since  the  beginning 
of  last  week.  As  I  approached  the  pig- 


TJtf  Professor.  "  Bor,  GET  ME  A  FLY." 

Kew  Page.  "  Yzs,  SIB.    DEAD  on  ALIVE,  Sis?" 


sty  the  poor  fellow  laid  a  hand  on  my 
arm. 

"'Don'b  go  in  there,'  lie  said. 
'  There 's  trouble  among  the  pigs." 

"  And  indeed  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
something  was  the  matter,  for  I  came 
at  once  upon  a  large  litter  which  ap- 
peared to  be  in  a  state  of  intoxication. 

"  '  It  was  tho  fomented  barley,'  the 
farmer  explained.  '  We  can't  keep 
barley  these  days.  Come  this  way ;  I 
want  to  show  you  the  blight  on  the 
clover.  .  .  .' " 

With  these  grave  words  from  onr 
correspondent  before  us  wo  can  only 
say  that  we  hope  that  long  before  this 
report  appears  in  print  tho  labour 
troubles  in  Ireland  will  have  come  to 
a  satisfactory  conclusion.  Rumours 
have  reached  us  that  the  sympathetic 
strike  is  not  likely  to  be  confined  to  the 
vegetable  kingdom.  Cows  are  already 
giving  buttermilk  in  some  places,  while 
hens  are  persistently  laying  last  week's 
eggs.  We  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
corroborate  the  news  to  hand  from  the 
Wicklow  Mountains  that  a  flock  of 
sheep  has  been  discovered  with  fleeces 


of  inferior  cotton-wool.  But  there  is  no 
doubt  that  Trade  Unionism  has  found 
a  valuable  ally  and  a  new  and  most 
powerful  weapon. 

CUBS. 
THE  bees  still  haunt  the  garden  border 

Though  nights  come  crisp  and  cold. 
And  berries  ripen  in  their  order 

In  hedgerows  manifold ; 
The  beech  has  stolen  the  summer's  gold, 
The  gold  of  the  summer  sun, 

And  now  comes  in  October 

With  skies  soft  and  sober 
And  mornings  full  of  melody  and  red 
cubs  that  run. 

There 's  some  that  like  an  April  coppice 

So  tender  to  behold  ; 
There's  some  that  like  the  pride  of 
poppies 

Among  the  barley  bold  ; 
But  I,  I  like  an  autumn  wold 
And  a  wood  where  summer's  done. 

And  white  hounds  and  limber 

To  sing  through  its  timber 
The  melody,  the  melody  that  makes  the 
red  fox  run. 


2SG 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


THE  STUMBLING   BLOCK. 

HUSKY  was  practising  niblick  shots 
when  1  looked  in  at  his  Hat  the  other 
morning,  and  ho  had  just  made  a  clever 
recovery  from  tho  waste-paper  hasket 
as  I  canio  into  tho  room. 

"  That  settles  it,"  I  said.  "  I  was 
going  to  offer  to  take  a  stroke  a  hole 
next  Monday  ;  now  I  shall  want  two. 
Henry,  I  'vo  got  a  letter  for  you ;  the 
porter  gave  it  to  me  as  I  came  up." 

Henry  took  the  letter,  glanced  at  the 
writing  and  threw  it  on  the  tahle. 

"  I  don't  think  that 's  quite  polite,"  I 
said.  "  You  should  read  letters  which 
I  take  the  trouble  to  bring  you. 

Besides,  Williams  and  I That  is 

Williams  'on  tho  sofa,  isn't  it  ?  How 
do  you  do,  Williams?  We  are  naturally 
eager  to  know  who  your  correspondent 
is." 

"It's  from  tho  solicitor  to  my  land- 
lord, if  you  want  to  know,"  said  Henry. 

"That  sounds  very  depraved.  An 
ordinary  solicitor  is  bad  enough ;  a 
a  solicitor  to  one's  landlord " 

"You  can  read  it  if  you" like,"  said 
Henry,  and  he  gave  me  the  letter. 
"  He 's  never  very  interesting.  And 
you  can  pay  the  rent  too  if  you  like." 

"  Excuse  me,  Williams,"  I  murmured, 
as  I  opened  the  letter.  "  Tut,  tut, 
this  is  more  than  interesting,  this  is 
epoch-making." 

"  What's  the  matter?" 

"  Listen.  It 's  from  the  solicitor  to 
the  Westminster  Incorporated  Building 
Society." 

"  My  landlord,  Wibs." 

"  Quite  so.  '  Dear  Sir, — This  is  to 
inform  you  that,  as  from  September 
29th  next,  Shakspeare  Mansions  is 
the  property  of  the  Liverpool  Estate 
Syndicate.  Take  notice  that  from  that 
date  all  rents  should  be  paid  to  the 
Liverpool  Estate  Syndicate,  and  not  to 
the  Westminster  Incorporated  Building 
Society.  Yours  faithfully,  JOHN  BATES.' 
Henry,"  I  added  solemnly,  "  Wibs  is 
no  longer  your  landlord." 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  said  Henry. 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Williams.  Williams, 
I  ought  to  have  said  before,  lives  below 
Henry.  There  is  only  one  other  flat  in 
the  building,  and  that  lias  been  empty 
for  some  time. 

"What  of  it?"  I 'cried.  "Henry, 
Williams,  my  dear  friends,  don't  you 
see  what  has  happened?  " 

Williams  tried  to  look  as  if  he  did, 
but  obviously  didn't. 

"  My  brothers,  this  is  what  has 
happened.  By  a  corrupt  bargain  be- 
tween John  Bates  and  the  Liverpool 
Estate  Syndicate  you  have  been  sold  to 
Liverpool.  For  years  you  have  been 
loyal  to  the  Westminster  Incorporated 
Building  Society;  you  have  lived  at 


peace  under  the  rule  of  Wibs  ;  you  have 
paid  your  rent  cheerfully— 

"  Not  cheerfully,"  said  Williams. 

"  You  have  paid  your  rent  loyally  to 
Wibs.  Are  you  now  to  be  robbed  of ! 
your  birthright  ?  Aro  you  to  bo  handed  ' 
over  to  the  domination  of  Liverpool? 
All  we  ask,"  1  went  on  with  great 
emotion,  "  is  to  remain  beneath  the 
(lag  of  Westminster ;  to  continue  to 
pay  rent  to  tho  Westminster  Incor- 
porated Building  Society ;  not  to  be 
placed  under  the  heel  of  Sk  Liverpool 
landlord.  All  we  demand " 

"Why  'we'?  said  Henry.  "  You 
don't  live  here." 

"  True.  But  there  is  a  precedent  for 
saying  '  we.'  Speaking  as  a  barrister, 
I  associate  myself  in  this  matter  with 
my  clients.  And,  gentlemen,"  I  went 
on,  "  there  is  also  a  precedent  for  what 
we  are  about  to  do.  We  are  about  to 
form  a  Provisional  Government." 

"  Hear,  hear,"  said  Williams. 

"  What  we  propose  to  do  is  this. 
We  propose  to  keep  Shakspsare  Man- 
sions in  trust  for  the  Westminster 
Incorporated  Building  Society  until 
such  time  as  Wibs  is  ready  to  take  it 
over  again.  Meanwhile  we  will  collect 
the  rent  for  him,  pay  the  rates,  repair 
the  crack  in  Henry's  geyser  and  arm 
ourselves  against  any  attack  on  our 
liberties.  My  friends,  are  you  with  me?" 

Williams  reflected  for  a  moment. 

' '  Suppose  they  send  policemen  against 
us  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  They  will  never  dare,  and  if  they 
did  would  a  Westminster  policeman 
consent  to  arrest  a  fellow  Westminster 
man?  He  would  eat  his  truncheon 
rather.  All  we  ask — • — " 

"  You  're  not  going  to  say  it  all  over 
again  ?  "  said  Henry  in  alarm. 

"  You  '11  be  very  lucky  if  you  only 
get  it  twice,"  I  said  stiffly.  "  As  your 
leader  in  this  revolution  I  do  all  the 
talking.  When  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment is  set  up  I  shall  be  your  president." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  the  Finance  Com- 
mittee," said  Henry. 

"  That  only  leaves  the  Army  unfilled. 
Williams  shall  be  our  gallant  army. 
I  shall  ba  photographed  taking  tl  e 
salute  from  him.  He  has  a  bowler  hat 
already ;  all  he  wants  is  a  bandolier 
and  an  indemnity  fund.  If  you  are 
arrested,  Williams,  your  family  will  b3 
compensated — supposing  they  think  it 
necessary.  Meanwhile,  what  about 
lunch?"" 

"  Whoever  takes  the  rent  we  must 
eat,"  said  Henry.  "Come  along." 

The  Provisional  Government  put  on 
its  hats  and  went  out  to  lunch.  It 
returned,  somewhat  torpid,  two  hours 
later.  The  Finance  Committee  sank 
into  the  sofa  and  the  Army  stretched 
itself  on  two  arm-chairs.  The  President 


rested  his  elbow  on  the  revolving  book- 
case. 

"I  will  now,"*T  said,  "address  my 
followers  again."  I  waited  until  the 
Army  had  said  "  Hear,  hear,"  and  then 
went  on  : — • 

"  Gentlemen,  the  time  for  talk  is 
nearly  over.  I  speak  for  all  of  us  when 
I  say  that  we  are  inflexibly  resolved 
never  to  pay  rent  to  Liverpool.  Wo 
have,  as  you  know,  already  signed  a 
covenant  to  that  effect,  and  none  signed 
it  more  willingly  than  myself  who  do 
not  live  here  and  will  never  bo  asked  to 
pay.  Shakspeare  Mansions  is  united  in 
its  resolution  to  remain  loyal  to  West- 
minster, and  so  long  as  we  are  united 
our  liberties  cannot  be  assailed.  \Vo 
have  this  day  formed  our  Provisional 
Government.  I  see  before  me  our  hard- 
headed  Finance  Committee— asleep;  our 
gallant  Army — with  its  tie  all  sideways. 
We  s&nd  a  message  to  John  Bates  that 
we  denounce  his  corrupt  bargain,  and 
refuse  to  be  bound  by  it.  Shakspeare 
Mansions,  I  repeat,  is  united — 

There  was  a  sudden  surprising  noise 
from  the  ceiling — a  noise  like  "  Hitchy- 
Koo." 

!    "What's  that,  Williams?"  I  asked 
quickly. 

"  The  man  above.  He 's  got  a  pianola." 

"  I  didn't  know  there  was  a  man 
above.  I  thought  the  ilat  was  empty." 

"  Ho  hasn't  been  in  long.  He  's  come 
up  from  Liverpool,  the  porter  says,  to 
see  life." 

"  Oh  1 "  This  altered  matters  a  good 
deal.  The  President  left  the  revolving 
bookcase  and  walked  up  and  down  in 
anxious  thought.  At  last  he  came  to  his1 
decision.  "Williams,"  I  said 'sorrow- 
fully, "  the  revolution  is  off  ;  the  Pro- 
visional Government  is  dissolved ;  thei 
Army  is  disbanded." 

"Oh,  I  say!     Why?" 

"  A  revolutionary  government  must; 
be  whole-hearted,  united.  It  can  wage! 
civil  war  against  the  enemy,  but  it 
cannot  face  a  civil  war  within  itself.; 
I  thought  Sbakspearo  Mansions  was; 
unitecl  in  its  resistance  to  Liverpool 
and  its  loyalty  to  Wibs;  but  it  seems 
now  that  one-third  of  it  knows  no 
Wibs  and  loves  Liverpool.  How  can 
you  go  on  in  the  face  of  that?  You 
can  withhold  your  rent  from  your  alien 
landlord,  but  you  cannot  compel  rent 
from  this  alien  tenant.  The  revolution 
is  over." 

"Oh!"  said  Williams.  "I'll  tell 
Henry  when  lie  wakes." 

I  took  my  hat  and  prepared  to  go. 

"  By  the  way,  Williams,"  I  said,  as 
I  opened  the  door,  "let  me  remind  you 
that  you  are  now  an  ordinary  citizen 
again.  In  future,  when  you  get  into 
trouble  with  the  police  there  will  be  no 
componsation."  A.  A.  M. 


OCTOBER  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CIIAIIIVAIM. 


287 


•  =-5?^ 


"MOTHER   DEAR,   WIIX  YOU   SIT  PERFECTLY  STILL  FOB  A 
MOMENT?  "  "  CERTAINLY,  DARLING." 


'TlIAXKS  AWFULLY,    MjTHE3.' 


LAPSES  OF    TIME. 


(if  ever)  you  have  finished 
your  lunch,"  said  Marjorie,  "  we  have 
an  important  meeting  to  attend  on  the 
village  green." 

"  If,"  I  said,  drawing  to  a  conclusion, 
"  if  I  am  to  address  your  feudal  tenants 
on  the  Land  Question  I  must  have  a 
liqueur  with  my  coffee." 

George,  be  it  said,  though  he  is  at 
once  Marjorie's  husband  and  the  local 
squire,  was  at  the  moment  elsewhere. 
Behind  my  week-end  invitation  there 
now  appeared  to  be  this  ulterior  motive, 
that  I  should  act  as  his  understudy  on 
this  Saturday  afternoon. 

"  We  are  due  to  take  part  in  the 
village  sports,"  explained  Marjorie. 
"  They  don't  really  want  us,  but  would 
be  hurt  if  we  didn't  join  in." 

"  But  I  have  left  my  cycle  and  my 
egg  and  my  spoon  behind  me  in  Lon- 
don," I  protested. 

Marjorie  took  a  large  silver  watch 
from  the  mantelpiece  and  handed  it  to 
mo  graciously. 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  ma'am,"  said  I, 
\Vith  a  rustic  curtsey.  "  To  receive  the 
first  prize  before  the  race  is  run  is  to 
be  relieved  of  all  anxiety  from  the  start." 

Marjorie  took  me.  up  quickly.  "There 
are  three  tilings  to  remember  about  it. 


First,  that  it  is  a  loan ;  second,  that 
George,  its  owner,  sets  great  value  by 
it;  third,  that  it  is  a  stop-watch.  Are 
you  to  be  trusted  with  its  manipula- 
tion ?  " 

"  Anybody  can  stop  a  watch,"  said  I 
haughtily. 

"But  the  difficulty  is  to  start  it," 
was  Marjorie's  significant  reply. 

Arrived  later  at  the  village  green  I 
at  once  associated  myself  with  the 
Parson  and  the  Publican,  who  held  the 
tape  between  them.  They  had  little  to 
say  to  me,  so  I  turned  to  Marjorie  and 
discussed  the  political  situation.  "  We 
have  before  us,"  I  said,  in  an  eloquent 
whisper,  "  the  Church,  the  Licensed 
Trade  and  the  Landed  Interest  united 
by  a  common  bond.  Is  not  this  our 
opportunity  to  strengthen  George's 
position  against  the  assaults  of  the 
Single  Taxer  ?  "  My  flow  of  words  was 
suddenly  interrupted  by  a  pistol  shot, 
exactly  a  hundred  yards  away. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ? "  I  asked  her 
anxiously. 

She  pointed  to  the  onrush  of  some 
half-dozen  natives.  "  Are  you  ready  to 
stop  the  watcli  ?  "  she  asked  breath- 
lessly. 

"  Quite,"  said  I,  starting  it. 

The  first  heat  of  the  hundred  yards 
took  four  and  three-fifth  seconds;  to 


the  next  I  wouldn't  swear;  the  third 
took  even  less.  As  to  the  Final  there 
was  some  dispute  as  to  who  had  won. 
When  it  was  settled  and  I  was  free  to 
resume  my  particular  business,  I  dis- 
covered that  the  time  for  that  was 
three  minutes,  forty-five  and  four-fifth 
seconds,  an  ample  period  which  was 
rapidly  increasing.  Marjorie  wasn't  at 
all  pleased  about  it.  "  But  you  mustn't 
expect  too  much  of  mere  rustics,"  I 
told  her. 

Before  they  started  the  mile  she  took 
my  watch  off  me,  and  the  villagers, 
having  lost  confidence,  also  got  another 
timekeeper  of  their  own.  Marjorie 
blamed  me  very  much  and  explained, 
with  illustrations,  how  simple  it  was  to 
work.  She  was  still  explaining  when 
they  finished  the  first  lap  of  the  mile. 
On  her  attention  being  called  to  this 
fact  she  blushed  and  made  a  sudden 
movement,  on  which  I  commented  as 
follows: — "Ah,  yes,"  I  said,  "it's  all 
very  well  starting  to  time  it  now,  but 
you  '11  find  yourself  in  difficulties  when 
they  get  to  the  finish  .  .  .  unless  you 
can  get  them  to  run  an  extra  lap  for 
you." 

When  the  finish  was  achieved  she 
went  very  straight  to  the  other  time- 
keeper. "  What  do  you  make  it  ?  "  said 
she,  looking  confidently  at  her  own 


283 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARL 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


lie.    "AND — AH — WHEN  DID  TOO   COME  OUT?" 

Debutante.  "On!   BUT  I  WAS  KEVEE  IN.    I'M  NOT  A  MILITANT,  YOU  KNOW." 


watch,  which,  however,  the  other  time- 
keeper was  not  allowed  to  see. 

"Five  minutes,  five  seconds  and  a 
fifth,  lady,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  may  be  right,"  said 
she  after  the  briefest  pause.  "  I  make 
it  five  minutes  and  five  seconds  exactly." 
And  she  set  the  watch  back  at  once 
to  zero.  The  villagers  were  obviously 
pleased.  "There! "  said  Marjorie  to  me, 
"  that 's  how  it  ought  to  be  done !  " 

Feeling  that  the  honour  of  London 
was  at  stake  I  determined  to  retrieve 
the  position.  But  there  was  only  the 
obstacle  race  left,  and  nobody  seemed 
interested  in  the  timing  of  that.  Mar- 
jorie, being  thoroughly  pleased  with 
herself,  was  easily  induced  to  address 
the  assembly  in  conclusion.  Not  till 
she  was  surrounded  by  a  ring  of  ex- 
pectant yokels  did  she  realize  that, 
when  one  rises  to  make  a  speech,  one 
is  without  a  single  friend,  that  even 
one's  nearest  and  dearest  are  against 
one.  Having  begun  and  ended  in  con- 
fusion she  turned  for  support  to  me, 
who  stood  just  behind  her. 

I  held  the  stop-watch  prominently  in 
view.  "  Twelve  seconds  and  a  bittock," 
I  announced  in  my  most  official  voice, 
and  for  once  the  villagers'  sympathies 
were  with  the  Londoner. 


HUMANEE  LETTERS. 

THE  plays  of  the  moment  seem  to 
be  curiously  provocative  of  public  cor- 
respondence. Last  week  attention  was 
drawn  to  the  misgivings  of  certain 
members  of  Sir  J.  M.  BARBIE'S  audience 
(who,  by  the  way,  when  next  they  visit 
The  Adored  One,  will  find  all  their 
troubles  gone),  and  now  we  seem  to  be 
in  for  heated  discussions  on  others.  . . 

Here,  for  example,  is  no  less  an 
epistolary  warrior  than  the  Hon. 
STEPHEN  COLERIDGE  (unless  we  are 
misled  by  our  correspondent's  style  and 
attitude)  on  the  track  of  Androclcs  and 
the  Lion : — 

"  Sir,  [he  wrrites]  it  is  incredible  to 
me  that  such  a  notoriously  humane 
person  as  Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW  should 
derive  fun  from  the  spectacle  of  a  dumb 
animal  in  agony,  as  he  does  in  the 
opening  scene  of  his  otherwise  amusing 
1  trifle  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre.  To 
drag  the  King  of  Beasts  into  a  piece  of 
stage  mummery  at  all  is  offensive ;  but 
to  exhibit  him  in  the  throes  of  pain  is 
unpardonable.  What  kind  of  effect 
can  a  cynical  display  such  as  this  have 
on  a  house  full  (or  partly  full)  of  un- 
thinking pleasure-seekers?  Will  it  be 
believed  that  Amlrodes,  -in  performing  j 


his  operation  on  the  poor  creature's 
foot,  never  even  dreams  of  an.  anaes- 
thetic? Not  that  that  would  make  it 
any  better  in  reality,  as  all  readers  of 
my  letters  to  the  Press  are  aware ;  but, 
at  any  rate,  earnest  would  be  given  of 
some  hope  of  alleviating  suffering.  But 
no,  and  there  is  nothing  for  me  but  to 
give  up  also  Mr.  SHAW,  who  hitherto 
has  been  wholly  on  my  side  in  my  war 
against  callousness.  Now,  alas,  he  too 
goes." 

A  propos  of  the  new  musical  comedy 
at  the  Shaftesbury,  the  advent  of  which 
was  made  such  a  secret  by  the  manage- 
ment and  the  Press,  an  anxious  houss- 
holder  asks : — 

"  Is  it  not  more  than  a  little  tactless, 
not  to  say  unfortunate,  that  the  title, 
The  Pearl  Girl,  should  be  given  to  a 
new  frivolous  production  at  the  moment 
when  a  great  legal  case  involving  a 
number  (sixty-one,  to  be  precise)  of 
pearls  of  extraordinary  value  is  sub 
judicc  ?  Surely  any  other  stone  would 
have  done  as  well  for  the  purposes  of 
the  stage — sardonyx,  chrysoprase,  opal, 
chalcedony,  agate?  I  enclose  rny  card 
and  sign  myself  FAIR  PLAY." 

We  hold  over  a  number  of  letters 
from  Tariff  Reformers  protesting  against 
the  title  of  "  The  Ever  Open  Door." 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOBEB  1,  1913. 


T   t" 


A   POSTAL    DISOEDER. 


JOHN  BULL.  "  I    LIKE    THE    LOOK    OF    YOU,    MY    LAD— BUT    YOU    OPEN    YOUB    MOUTH 
TOO    WIDE." 

[A  sttike  of  Post  Offios  Employees  has  boon  threatened  m  the  event  of  a  refusal  of  their  heavy  demands  for  fresh  concessions.] 


OCTOHKH    1,    19  I.').] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


Country  Cousin  (at  popular  musical  co::iedy,  which  has  hid  a  very  l-jiuj  run).  "  How  CAX  THOSE  ORCHESTRA-MEN  SIT  THEBE  THROUGH 

IT  ALL   WITHOUT   A   SMILE  ?  " 

Town  Cousin.  "CAN'T  SAY.    BUT  THEN  I  'VE  NEVER  SEEN  ONE  or  THESE  THINGS  JIOHE  THAN  A  COUPLE  CF  HUNDRED  TIMES." 


EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  JOURNAL 
OF  AN  OSTRICH. 

My  First  Day. — I  am  successfully 
hatched. 

While  my  shell  was  yet  unbroken 
I  had  decided  I  would  write  my  life 
history  at  the  earliest  opportunity  ;  for 
I  hclieve  few  ostriches  follow  a  literary 
career.  I  am  the  youngest  of  my  eight 
brothers  and  sisters ;  and,  as  my  shell 
was  a  thick  one,  I  was  naturally  rather 
exhausted  when  I  had  my  first  peep  of 
my  family  and  our  home.  It  is  a 
comfortable  though  unpretentious  nest, 
merely  a  dent  in  the  ground,  and  around 
it  is  a  sort  of  fence  made  from  the  old 
shells  we  children  came  out  of,  and 
some  eggs  which  haven't  hatched. 
Mother  always  lays  some  extra  eggs, 
so  that  Father  may  have  something  to 
play  with  when  he  takes  his  turn  at 
sitting.  Yes,  in  our  family  these  things 
are  properly  divided.  You  see,  an 
ostrich  egg  is  so  precious,  it  must  be 
sat  on  for  six  weeks.  Our  mothers  sit 
in  the  daytime  because  their  feathers 
are  a  greyish  brown,  the  colour  of  the 
ground,  and  thus  they  can't  easily  be 
seen  by  intruding  humans.  For  the 
same  reason,  our  fathers,  being  black, 
sit  at  night. 

Mother  says  that  we  chicks  had  an 
exceptionally  good  father,  for  he  would 


often  take  his  place  on  the  nest  at  four 
in  the  afternoon  (three  hours  before  his 
time)  so  that  Mother  should  be  able  to 
slip  over  the  hill  and  have  a  chat  with 
the  ostrich  hen  who  lives  there  and 
who  hasn't  any  eggs  to  look  after. 

Our  Mother  seems  rather  fond  of 
society.  She  wears  such  lovely  feathers 
and  carries  her  neck  at  a  perfect  angle. 

My  Second  Day. — I  have  a  tragedy 
to  write  of  to-day.  How  pitiful  that 
my  young  life  should  be  saddened 
almost  at  the  outset !  Early  this 
morning,  as  soon  as  Mother  had  tidied 
up  our  broken  shells,  she  and  Father 
took  us  out  walking  in  the  long  grass 
quite  a  distance  from  home.  Mother 
was  teaching  us  the  right  weeds  to  eat, 
and  my  eldest  sister — the  beauty  of  our 
family — was  with  Father  a  little  way 
off.  We  heard  Father  say,  with  great 
delight,  that  he  had  found  just  the  sort 
of  rusty  nail  his  gizzard  had  required 
lately.  In  fact,  he  came  across  to  tell 
us  about  it.  Mother,  after  listening 
for  some  time,  her  head  thrown  to  one 
side  and  a  curiously  sleepy  expression 
in  her  eye,  which  meant,  I  fancy,  that 
she  had  heard  quite  enough  about 
Father's  digestive  arrangements  many 
times  before,  suddenly  raised  her  head 
and,  interrupting  him  in  the  middle  of 
a  sentence,  shrieked,  "  Where 's  Pru- 
dence ?  " 


Father,  looking  rather  ashamed, 
hurried  back  to  where  he  thought  he 
had  left  her;  but  Prudence  had  dis- 
appeared. My  parents  spent  some 
tima  hunting  for  her,  but  as  they  are 
both  short -sighted  and  Father  was 
continually  discovering  a  different  blade 
of  grass  beside  which  lie  would  declare 
positively  he  had  left  her,  it  was  hardly 
surprising  that  our  dear  Prudence's 
place  was  empty  at  lunch-time. 

My  Third  Day. — Yes,  I  have  decided 
this  world  is  a  disappointment.  There 
seems  so  much  discord.  I  feared  this 
the  moment  I  hatched,  and  now  am 
certain.  Still,  one  must  worry  through 
it  somehow,  I  suppose. 

Father  and  Mother  can  never  agree 
whether  china  or  old  nails  make  the 
better  digestive  foods.  They  frequently 
spoil  my  sleep  arguing  about  it  at  night. 

Two  more  of  my  brothers  are  lost. 
They  were  having  a  kicking  match  just 
outside  Father's  feathers  late  last  night, 
and  we  fear  a  jackal  must  have  picked 
them  off. 

Our  Farmer  came  this  morning  and 
said  several  very  impolite  things  to 
Mother  when  he  saw  some  of  us  were 
missing,  just  as  though  it  was  not  his 
business  to  see  we  were  properly  pro- 
tected !  What  a  curious  species  these 
humans  are !  I  suppose  we  can  scarcely 
blame  the  poor  things.  They  would 


292 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVART. 


[OCTOBKK    1,    1913. 


naturally  have  been  ostriches  if  they 
could,  but  really  the  shortness  of  their 
necks— well,  it  "strikes  one  as  scarcely 
decent  1 

Three  Weeks  Later.— I  have  a  terrible 
occurrence  to  chronicle  to-day.  Father 
and  Mother  have  been  plucked.  This 
is  one  of  the  reasons  wo  hate  all  humans. 
They  take  our  beautiful  feathers  and 
give  us  the  trouble  of  growing  more, 
just  so  that  their  females— who  appar- 
ently can't  grow  feathers  themselves— 
may  wear  ours  on  their  heads! 

Our  parents  look  so  curious  without 
their  long  wing  and  tail  feathers ;  and 
we  shall  bo  shockingly  short  of  bed- 
clothes. I  have  registered  a  solemn 
vow  never  io  allow  anyone  to  cut  my 
feathers  off'.  By  the  way,  they  really 
are  shaping  very  becomingly.  I  shall 
be  a  pretty  figure  of  a  cock. 

Two  Years  Later,— To-day  I  met  the 
dearest  hen  in  the  world. 
Curiously  enough,  we  found 
on  comparing  notes  that  we 
were  hatched  in  the  same 
month.  Her  name  is  Nancy, 
and  I  found  her  extraor- 
dinarily companionable  and 
exactly  of  my  own  opinion 
on  the  vital  subject,  namely, 
that  fcrass-headed  nails  are 
really  the  most  appetising. 
Strange  that  a  hen  should 
have  discovered  this ! 

One  Day  Later. — Two  of 
my  sworn  enemies,  the  hu- 
mans, came  this  morning, 
drove  me  into  a  corner  of 
the  fence,  and  put  a  pole 
across  behind  me.  I  did  not 
object  at  first  as  much  as  I 
should  have  done  at  another  time,  for 
my  meeting  with  Nancy  yesterday  had 
made  me  feel  kindly  disposed  to  all  the 
world.  But  when  I  saw  one  of  the 
creatures  preparing  to  put  a  stocking 
over  mv  head  (for  that  is  the  igno- 
minious way  they  treat  us)  I  guessed 
at  once  they  meant  to  attempt  to  take 
my  feathers.  What  would  Nancy  say 
when  we  met  ?  She  would  never  gaze 
at  me  again  with  the  admiration  I  had 
seen  in  her  brilliant  eyes  yesterday.  For 
one  mad  moment  I  saw  red,  and,  lifting 
one  powerful  limb,  while  deftly  retaining 
my  balance  on  the  other,  I  struck — but 
only  air ;  for  the  stocking  descended 
over  my  eyes  at  that  moment. 

Next  Day. — I  spent  a  fearful  morn- 
ing, sitting  behind  a  bush.  I  felt  so 
extremely  undressed  and  quite  unable 
to  face  Nancy,  even  though  I  wished 
very  much  to  walk  with  her.  About 
mid-day  I  saw  her  in  the  distance. 
Heavens  !  She  had  lost  her  feathers  too. 
I  rushed  to  meet  her,  and  we  spent  the 
afternoon  walking  and  comparing  notes 
on  our  awful  experiences  of  yesterday. 


Wo  passed  a  hollow  which  Nancy 
pointed  out,  saying  it  would  be  a  good 
site  for  a  nest."  Queer  how  the  minds 
of  even  intelligent  hens  always  run  on 
nests  !  She  giggled  rather,  too. 

A  Few  Weeks  Later. — Nancy  showed 
me  an  egg  in  the  hollow.  Said  it  was 
hers  !  Very  curious. 

A  Month  Later. — The  last  few  weeks 
have  been  a  happy  time.  Nancy  thinks 
with  me  in  all  things.  Truly,  she  is  a 
hen  of  exceptionally  good  taste. 

The  hollow  is  now  full  of  eggs,  and 
there  is  a  ring  cf  them  outside,  remind- 
ing me  of  my  old  home  and  making 
mo  vaguely  uneasy.  But  still  I  could 
never  be  expected  to  sit  on  them.  For 
one  thing,  my  legs  are  too  long. 

A  Few  Hours  Later. — Yes,  it  is  as  I 
feared.  Nancy  says  I  must  sit  on  those 
wretched  eggs  all  night.  I  find  I  can 
fold  my  legs;  but  the  whole  thing  is  a 


VARIATION  ON  THE  STABS  AND  STRIPES,  DESIGNED  BY  A  YANKEE 
GOLF  ENTHUSIAST,  GONE  MAD  OVER  Hfl.  OUIHEl'S  VICTORY. 


fearful  bore  and  will  interfere  with  my 
literary  work. 

However,  every  ostrich  to  his  duty, 
and,  at  any  rate,  you  don't  catch  me 
going  on  to  the  eggs  at  four  o'clock,  the 
way  my  old  Father  used  to  do. 
(Not  to  be  continued.} 


THE  FINEST  CITY. 

How  it  was  that  Antonio  came  to 
forget  himself  so  far  as  to  allow  a 
couple  of  complete  strangers  to  take 
possession  of  half  the  table  which, 
between  the  hours  of  six  and  eight,  I 
have  learnt  to  consider  exclusively  my 
own,  still  remains  a  mystery.  His 
lapse  from  duty  was  quite  inexcusable, 
I  know.  And  yet  I  have  forgiven  him. 
For  through  his  neglect  I  am  able  to 
give  to  the  world  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  narratives  heard  in  modern 
times. 

Both  intruders  bore  the  stamp  of 
men  about  the  world,  and  one,  at  least, 
as  I  hope  to  show,  was  a  raconteur  of 
no  mean  order. 


As  I  took  my  seat  the  latter  was 
saying: — 

"  Mind  you — it  seemed  to  be  just  talk. 
That 's  all.  But  the  extraordinary  part 
is  this.  Though  it  was  quite  a  year  ago 
in  Now  York,  I  can  remember  practically 
every  word  that  was  said.  When  the 
Cockney  strolled  into  the  saloon  and 
looked  round  like  a  lost  sheep  on  a 
desert  island,  I  got  ready  for  some- 
thing to  happen.  A  man  at  the  bar 
spotted  him  in  two  seconds. 

"'Jest  out,  sonny?'  asked  the 
American. 

"  '  Yus,'  said  the  Cockney.  '  Come 
over  on  the  Mauritania  yesterday.' 

'"That  so?  Well, 'what  are  ye 
goin'  to  have '.' ' 

"  '  I  '11  'avc  a  pig's  ear,'  said  the 
Cockney. 

"  '  Come  again.     I  didn't  get  you." 
"  '  A  pig's  ear.     That 's  what  we  call 
beer  in  London.     Ehyrnin' 
slang,  yer  know.' 

"'Say,  that's  cute.  But 
why  not  have  a  Martini 
Cocktail  ?  ' 

"  '  I   don't    mind.      You 
'avin'  one?' 
"'Sure.' 

"  After  a  couple  of  sips 
the  Cockney  expressed  his 
approval  thus : — 

"  '  Well,  my  olo  China, 
they  say  there's  no  bad 
beer.  But  I '11 -lay  six -to 
four  the  man  what  drinks 
this  for  a  fortnight  '11  say 
all  beer  's  rotten.' 

"  '  So.  Glad  you  like  it.' 
"'Yus.  And  I  like  the 
'ole  town  on  the  quiet. 
New  York  is  the  finest  city  'artside 
'eaven.  And  I  ain't  kiddin'.' 

"  '  Oh,  Gee !  Not  so  faast,'  said  the 
American  deprecatingly.  '  I  '11  allow 
N'York  is  some  village,  but — the  finest 
city  outside  heaven  ?  No,  Sir.' 

"'But  I  'm  tellin'  yer.  Why,  look  at 
yer  sky  scrapers !  Look  at  that  statue 
in  the  'arbour  t  Look  at  yer  streets  all 
laid  art  so  as  you  carn't  make  no 
mistakes  1  What  do  yer  want  better 
than  Broadway  by  night,  with  all  the 
beautiful  lights  and  the  signs  goin'  in 
and  art,  and  what  not  ?  Thumbs  up, 
New  York,  every  time.' 

"  '  Now  go  easy,  son.  Remember 
you  're  speakin'  to  a  guy  who  was  over 
in  Europe  and  took  in  your  London 
laast  fall.  Wa'al,  I  've  seen  some,  but 
your  Lei-cester  Square  and  Piccadilly 
Coircus — Gee ! ' 

"  '  Oh,  I  ain't  savin'  nothink  against 
the  smoke,'  remarked  the  Cockney 
tolerantly.  '  Only  as  regards  to  bein' 
the  first  City  when  it  comes  to  enterin' 
for  the  world  'andicap  I  say  London  is 
one  of  the  also's.' 


OCTOBEB  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TJIB  LONDON   CHAIUVAPJ. 


293 


Huntsman  (to  irate  farmer).  "NEVEB  "BAUD  SUCH  LANGUAGE  is  MT  BOBS  DAYS.    I'M  ASHAMED  FOB  TUB  'OCSDS  TO  OVER'EAR  IT." 


" '  But  see  here.  You  're  not  wise  to 
your  own  City,  or  you  wouldn't  talk 
like  that.  We  got  nothin'  over  here  to 
compare  with  your  Saint  Paul's,  your 
houses  of  Congress,  your  parks.  And, 
Sir,  the  way  your  traffic  is  regu-lated  ! 
And  the  civility  of  your  trolley-car 
conductors!  Above  everything,  the 
comfort  of  your  rail-road  system,  and 
your  rapid  transit  in  all  di-rections ! 
Yes,  Sir.  You  got  us  skinned  to 
death.  London  is  the  finest  city  on 
this  oirth.  And  anyone  who  says 
contrairy  is  not  the  Wise  guy  I  guessed 
you  to  he  when  you  carne  through  that 
openin'.' 

"  '  What  do  yer  mean  abart  bein'  a 
wise  guy?  Can't  I  'ave  my  opinions 
as  well  as  you?  And  ain't  they  as 
good  ? '  asked  the  Cockney,  thoroughly 
roused. 

" '  Now  cut  that  out,  son.  I  don't 
want  you  to  git  me  rattled.  But  see 
here.  We  can  settle  this  right  now. 
If  the  boys  are  agreeable,  we  11  take  a 
ballot  as  to  which  is  the  finest  city  of 
the  two.' 

" '  Eight-o ! '  said  the  Cockney,  •  I  '11 
stand  by  that.' 

"  Well,  to  cut  a  long  story  short, 
they  took  the  ballot.  Whereupon 
every  one  of  the  twenty  odd  New 


Yorkers  in  the  saloon  gave  London  the 
palm.  That 's  all." 

A  hush,  almost  of  reverence,  followed 
the  speaker's  abrupt  finish.  He  had 
been  talking  in  a  fairly  loud  voice,  and 
Panini's  is  a  somewhat  select  little 
place.  Diners  of  all  descriptions  had 
laid  down  their  eating  utensils  and 
strained  their  ears  to  catch  every  word. 
The  hush  lasted  only  a  few  moments, 
and  was  succeeded  by  a  low  murmur 
of  satisfaction,  to  the  effect  that  "  these 
Yankees  aren't  as  bad  as  they  're 
painted  1 " 

One  old  gentleman,  with  unmistakable 
stars  and  stripes  written  over  him, 
made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  interest 
and  astonishment,  but  stared  open- 
mouthed  at  the  occupants  of  our  table. 
Antonio  himself  had  been  hovering 
round  with  a  weird  smile  on  his  face 
from  the  beginning. 

I  held  out  my  hand  for  the  bill, 
and  then  groped  in  a  dazed  fashion 
for  my  hat. 

The  raconteur's  companion  had 
listened  stonily  to  the  whole  recital. 
Now  he  took  a  sovereign  from  his 
pocket,  and  pushed  it  without  enthu- 
siasm across  the  table. 

"  You  've  won,"  he  said  sadly.  "  That 
was  a  stranger  dream  than  mine." 


THE   "HAPPY   MOMENTS" 
COMPETITION. 

(A  retrospect.) 
A  SONQ  of  "  happy  moments."     To 

pursue 

The  wraith  of  pleasure  for  a  fort- 
night's span 

Behind  a  lens  and  shutter  will  not  do ; 
I  leave  the  pictures  to  some  other 

man ; 

Enough  for  me  to  chronicle  in  rhyme 
The  brighter  memories  of  a  tedious  timc_ 

A  \vasp  and  Aunt  Eliza ;  Uncle  John 
Starting  the  motor;   Alice  and  her 

swain 
A-cooing ;     Maud     with    hrassie ;     at 

mid-on 

Her  caddie,  very  nearly  cut  in  twain ; 
Myself,  with  contributions  to  the  Press 
Eejected ;  Eve,  in  last  year's  bathing- 
dress. 

A  song  of  happy  moments — very  brief ; 
A  single  stanza  has  sufficed  to  state 
Their  details.     Alfred,  to  his   lasting 

grief, 

Took  all  six  portraits  on  a  single  plate, 
And,   smashing   the  result,  provided 

•what 

I  thought  the  happiest  moment  of  the 
lot. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


A    GREAT    REFORMER. 

Miss  Toovey  lias  deserved  well  of 
the  public  in  vailing  an  authoritative 
Life  of  her  maternal  uncle,  the  late  Mr. 
Kumnuel  1'orpentine,  whose  demise  a 
year  ago  at  an  almost  over-ripe  old  age 
occasioned  such  widespread  regret ;  for 
this  is  pre-eminently  one  of  those  Lives 
of  Great  Men  which  are  sent  to  remind 
us  that  with  a  little  luck  wo  may  all 
hope  to  pilot  our  own  careers  to  a 
similarly  -sublime-  altitude.  In  five 
hundred  and  seventy-three  well-printed 
pngos,  enlivened  with  a  unique  series 
of  portraits  of  the  great  inventor  from 
the  age  of  two  upwards,  Miss  Toovey 
has  given  us  a  fascinating  narrative, 
and  has  at  the  same  time  raised  a 
handsome  monument  to  one  whose 
name  has  been  writ  not  in  water  but 
in  indelible  ink  on  the  pages  of  his 
country's  social  annals. 

The  name  of  Porpentine  is  famous  for 
all  time  as  that  of  the  original  inventor 
of  the  moustache-cup.  In  millions  of 
British  homes  to-day  the  solid  (or 
rather  liquid)  comforts  of  the  breakfast- 
table  and  the  more  elegant  amenities  of 
afternoon  tea  are  strikingly  enhanced 
by  the  employment  of  this  beneficent 
device.  But  how  many  of  those  who 
possess  what  a  gifted  writer  has  pic- 
turesquely d3scribed  as  "  mouth-frills," 
and  who  must  be  grateful  every  day  of 
their  lives  for  the  protective  ingenuity 
of  Mr.  Porpentine's  invention,  are  aware 
of  the  vicissitudes  and  public  obloquy 
it  experienced  before  it  attained  to  its 
present-day  popularity?  With  deft 
lingers  the  curtain  is  lifted  on  the 
thrilling  events  connected  with  its  birth, 
and  we  are  given  a  lively  presentment 
of  the  great  struggle  and  of  its  heroic 
protagonist. 

"  A  man  without  moustachios,"  says 
Miss  Toovey  in  an  arresting  Foreword, 
"is  like  beef  without  mustard";  and 
this  infectious  enthusiasm  for  her  hero's 
most  distinguishing  feature  gives  the 
book  a  peculiarly  engrossing  interest. 
Quite  early  in  bis  adolescence  Mr. 
Emanuel  Porpentine  boasted  an  un- 
usually heavy  and  handsome  pair  of 
what  his  biographer  calls  "  main's 
crowning  glories."  A  native  and  a 
leading  citizen  of  Mugshead,  where  his 
father  had  been  one  of  the  founders 
of  the  Postdiluvian  Primitive  Chapel, 
until  his  fortieth  year  he  was  abso- 
lutely unknown  to  the  great  mass  of 
his  countrymen,  although  his  striking 
personality,  combined  with  the  posses- 
sion of  a  fruity  and  full-bodied  bass 
voice,  had  already  made  him  a  local 
celebrity.  Miss  Toovey  draws  a  vivid 
word-portrait  of  Mr.  Porpentine  as  he 
appeared  at  this  time  : — - 
He  was  a  tall,  handsome  man,  and  of  a 


rotundity  that  was  no  more  than  agreeable. 
Ho  carried  Ins  weight  well,  and  the  habit  ho 
had  of  rising  en  hi<  tees  as  he  walked  pave 
him  an  appearance  of  elasticity  and  perfect 
balance  that  removed  all  suspicion  of  heavi- 
ness. He  was  accounted  a  good,  if  deliberate, 
dancer.  His  eyes  and  what  could  bo  dis- 
cerned of  his  initial  chin  betokened  great 
determination  of  character,  and  he  had  a  way 
of  twice  repeating  everything  he  said  that  lent 
a  wonderful  force  to  his  most  commonplace 
utterances.  His  complexion,  again,  was  r:ch  ; 
but  it  was  his  moustachios  that  singled  him 
out  ns  a  man  in  a  million.  With  their  golden 
prk'e  challenging  the  world,  as  it  were,  and 
almost  completely  veiling  the  lower  part  of  his 
face  f com  the  public  view,  ho  seemed  a  verit- 
able Viking  returned  to  life.  A  contemporary- 
statistician  estimated  that  if  each  sinf  le  hair 
were  joined  end  to  end  they  would  reach  from 
the  Mugshead  Infirmary  to  Temple  B.;r.  But 
mere  figures  of  tins  kind,  however  accurately 
calculated,  can  convey  no  idea  of  the  brilliant 
and  luxuriant  growth  of  the  virgin  forest  that 
flourished  beneath  Mr.  Porpentine's  well- 
modelled  nose. 

Like  ARCHIMEDES,  NEWTON,  and 
other  celebrated  pioneers  of  research, 
Mr.  Porpentine  made  his  momentous 
discovery  by  accident.  It  should  be 
mentioned  that,  after  four  decades  of 
consistent  celibacy,  he  had  betrothed 
himself  to  the  lady  who  subsequently 
became  the  partner  of  his  triumph. 
Miss  Euphemia  Gussett — such  was  the 
name  of  his  elect — was  a  woman  of 
remarkable  character,  and,  although 
she  brought  all  the  appreciation  of  her 
sex  to  bear  upon  the  unique  quality  of 
her  future  husband's  caresses,  she  took 
firm  exception  to  salutations  performed 
just  after  he  had  been  partaking  of 
liquid  nourishment,  portions  of  which 
had  a  way  of  adhering  to  the  well- 
developed  feature  so  effectively  described 
above.  In  fact,  she  firmly  refused  to 
embrace  him  on  these  occasions  at  all 
until  he  had  devised  some  method  of 
preventing  the  contamination.  "Evi- 
dently," observes  Miss  Toovey  in  one 
of  those  epigrammatic  asides  that  make 
her  volume  one  long  surprise-packet, 
"  the  young  lady  was  of  opinion  that 
kissing  goes  by  flavour;  and,  when 
the  consequences  of  her  ultimatum  are 
considered,  few  will  censure  her  fastidi- 
ousness." 

Mr.  Porpentine,  who  was  not  of  a 
disposition  to  brook  such  an  abrogation 
of  a  fiance's  privileges,  spent  anxious 
days  and  sleepless  nights  in  vain  efforts 
to  tackle  the  problem.  The  solution 
came  suddenly  one  morning  at  break- 
fast. At  this  important  meal  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  reading  the  local  news- 
paper, and  on  the  morning  in  question, 
being  deeply  engrossed  in  an  article 
which  contained  the  daring  suggestion 
that  Mugshead  should  he  provided  with 
a  drainage  system,  he  lifted  his  coffee- 
cup  to  his  lips  without  removing  his 
eyes  from  the  paper.  By  accident  the 
top  of  the  cup  became  partly  covered  by 
the  journal,  leaving  but  a  narrow  open- 


ing for  the  passage  of  the  fluid,  while 
at  the  same  time  his  moustacho  was 
amply  protected  from  contact  there- 
with. In  a  flash  Mr.  Porpentine's 
discerning  mind  grasped  the  possibilities 
of  this  fortuitous  revelation,  and  the 
invention  of  the  world-renowned  appli- 
ance that  was  destined  to  bring  him 
fame  and  fortune  was  practically 
accomplished  there  and  then. 

The  appearance  of  the  moustache- 
cup  on  the  market  was  hailed  at  first 
with  almost  universal  derision,  and  in 
scores  of  lampoons  and  vitriolic  news- 
paper articles  its  inventor  was  held  up 
to  public  ridicule.  Even  sermons  were 
preached  against  it.  But  gradually 
Mr.  Porpentine  succeeded,  by  unlimited 
grit  and  pluck,  in  wearing  down  all 
opposition,  and  in  a  few  years'  time  he 
had  the  satisfaction  of  reaping  a  rich 
material  reward  from  his  benevolent 
enterprise. 

We  cannot  leave  the  volume  without 
some  reference  to  the  intimate  glimpses 
of  domestic  life  with  which  Miss  Toovey 
furnishes  her  readers.  Besides  being  a 
chivalrous  husband,  a  devoted  father, 
and  a  striking  figure  of  a  man  who  left 
a  deep  impression  wherever  he  moved, 
Mr.  Porpentine  was  endowed  with  a 
fund  of  sterling  wisdom  that  frequently 
rose  to  the  level  of  wit.  Some  of  his 
obiter  dicta  are  well  worth  recording. 
"  Poverty,"  he  was  fond  of  remarking, 
"  is  no  disgrace ;  neither  are  the  mumps. 
But  both  are  ridiculous."  He  had  a 
healthy  contempt  for  all  unproductive 
work.  Once  he  was  discussing  poetry 
with  a  friend,  who  ventured  the  obser- 
vation that  "  poets  are  not  made." 
"And  as  a  rule,"  rejoined  Mr.  Porpentine, 
"  they  make  nothing."  On  another 
occasion  a  young  and  unknown  writer 
who  aspired  to  the  hand  of  his  only 
daughter  was  pulverised  with  the  retort : 
"  Sir,  we  Porpentines  need  no  quills." 
To  the  end  of  his  days  he  preserved  the 
same  unaffected  bonhomie  that  had,  as 
a  young  man,  made  him  the  darling  of 
Mugshead  Society,  and  his  death  caused 
a  wide  gap  in  the  circle  of  his  many 
acquaintances.  As  his  biographer 
rightly  observes,  he  has  left  footprints 
on  the  sands  of  time  which  it  will  be 
very  difficult  to  obliterate. 


A  Sultry  Autumn. 
The  summer  of  St.  Luke  is  nice 

Compared  with  rain  and  storm, 
But  when  it  makes  me  long  for  ica 

I  find  it  too  Luke  warm. 


The  Force  of  Example. 

"Pcgoud,  at  height  of  2,500  feet 
gave  two  exhibitions  of  upside  down 
flying,  considerably  startling  spcc- 
-utvjtBu;  JIB  aqi  ui  SUAV  OH  -sao^} 
hour,  and  is  to  fly  again  later." 

Liverpool  Eclio. 


OCTOIIEB  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TILE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


295 


yfl  w 

.-tJJLr     in  i 


KvffbW 

s&iisfef 


SMILKIN'S  EMPORIUM. 

Pear  Sirs, — We  are  returning  your  design  advertising  our  PIII- 
porium,  and  will  be  glad  if  you  will  kindly  instruct  your  artist  to 
delete  the  solitary  giant  in  the  foreground  and  put  in  a  number 
of  people  of  the  normal  size. 

We  are,  yours  faithfully, 

SMILKRT  ANI>  Co. 
Block  and  Co., 
Colour  Printers  and  Designers. 


SMILKIN'S  EMPORIUM. 

Dear  Sirs, — Wo  thank  you  for  your  amended  design  advertising 
our  emporium.  It  ia  now  quita  satisfactory.  We  return  drawing 
and  will  be  glad  if  you  will  kindly  push  on  printing. 

We  are,  yours  truly, 

SMILKFS  AND  Co. 
Block  and  Co., 

Colour  Printers  and  Designers. 


PANSIES. 

TCFTED  and  bunched  and  ranged  with  careless  art 
Here,  where  the  paving-stones  are  set  apart, 
Alert  and  gay  and  innocent  of  guile. 
The  little  pansies  nod  their  heads  and  smile. 

With  what  a  whispering  and  a  lulling  sound 
They  watch  the  children  sport  about  the  ground, 
Longing,  it  seems,  to  join  the  pretty  play 
That  laughs  and  runs  the  light-winged  hours  away. 

And  other  children  long  ago  there  were 
Who  shone  and  played  and  made  the  garden  fair, 
To  whom  the  pansies  in  their  robes  of  white 
And  gold  and  purple  gave  a  welcome  bright. 

Gone  are  those  voices,  but  the  others  came, 
Joyous  and  free,  whose  spirit  was  the  same ; 
And  other  pansies,  robed  as  those  of  old, 
Peeped  up  and  smiled  in  purple,  white  and  gold. 

For  pansies  are,  I  think,  the  little  gleams 
Of  children's  visions  from  a  world  of  dreams. 
Jewels  of  innocence  and  joy  and  mirth, 
Alight  with  laughter  as  they  fall  to  earth. 

Below,  the  ancient  guardian,  it  may  hap, 
The  kindly  mother,  takes  them  in  her  lap, 
Decks  them  with  glowing  petals  and  replaces 
In  the  glad  air  the  friendly  pansy-faces. 

So  tread  not  rashly,  children,  lest  you  crush 
A  part  of  childhood  in  a  thoughtless  rush. 
Would  you  not  treat  them  gently  if  you  knew 
Pansies  are  little  bits  of  children  too  ? 

E.  C.  L. 


THE    EEFERENDUM. 

WISHING  to  be,  if  possible,  more  than  ever  on  the  safe 
side,  one  of  our  more  popular  dailies  has  recently  called 
upon  its  readers  to  assist  the  editor  in  making  up  his 
columns.  With  every  copy  of  the  paper  on  a  certain  date 
was  issued  a  stamped  circular  asking  for  criticism  and  help. 

It  ran  thus : — 


"Tho  Editor  of  the 


would  be  greatly  obliged 


by  the  speedy  return  of  this  slip  with  an  answer  to  the 
question  upon  it ;  for  only  by  obtaining  the  information  thus 
desired  can  he  confidently  go  to  work  to  prepare  a  budget 
which  shall  really  fulfil  the  best  ideal  of  a  daily  paper — that 
is,  to  give  the  public  what  the  public  wants. 

"  What  subjects  of  public  interest  do  you  consider  are  at 
the  present  time  insufficiently  treated  in  our  columns '?  " 

As  an  enormous  number  of  replies  was  received — a  number 
certainly  six  times  as  large  as  that  of  the  circulation  of  any 
penny  morning  paper — the  work  of  tabulation  was  neces- 
sarily arduous,  but  the  figures  were  recently  got  out. 

To  the  editor's  question,  465,326  readers  replied,  Football ; 
235,473,  Golf;  229,881,  Flying,  and  2,  Foreign  Politics. 

"Clerk  Wanted." 

"Here  on  Christmas  Eve,  1306,  the  Vicar  murdered  the  cleik  as 
he  went  to  strike  the  bell  early  in  the  morning,  as  was  his  usual 
custom." — The  Hinging  World. 

An  unpleasant  custom,  particularly  in  a  vicar. 

From  an  article  on  "  The  Eector's  Garden  Party  "  in  the 
Nortliendcn  Parish  Magazine : — 

"How  that  long  procession  of  urn  carriers  reminded  one  of  the  cup- 
bearers at  Belshazzar's  feast  [  " 

Having  been  to  neither  entertainment  we  are  not  in  a 
position  to  comment  upon  this.  But  we  fancy  that  the 
lector  will  think  this  comparison  an  unfortunate  one. 


296 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

"  MAUY  GOES  FIKST." 

IT  is  just  as  well  for  Mr.  HENRY 
ABTHUB  JONES  that  Miss  MAIUK  TEM- 
PEST'S personality  is  so  popular  tliat  it 
is  of  little  consequence  what  she  plays 
in.  She  has  only  to  bunch  her  lips  and 
blink  her  half-closed  eyes  and  a  rap- 
turous public  is  content.  Still  she 
must  have  something  to  say,  and  so 
Mr.  JONES  has  manufactured  for  her  a 
four-act  comedy  on  the  rather  thin 
theme  of  envy,  spite  and  malice  in  the 
matter  of  the  Honours  List.  Of  course 
not  every  house  in  London  was  open  to 
him,  for  the  actor-manager  who  still 
belongs  to  the  order  of  the  Great  Un- 
knighted,  and  is  therefore  free  to  ridicule 
the  methods  by  which  titles  are  con- 
ferred, is  a  rare  figure.  But  this  is 
Miss  TEMPEST'S  season  at  The  Play- 
house and  there  he  was  safe. 

For  a  play  that  is  just  meant  to 
amuse,  and  makes  no  appeal  to  the 
intelligence,  Mary  Goes  First  began 
very  heavily.  In  the  two  scenes  of  the 
First  Act  there  was  scarcely  a  smile. 
Later  on,  as  it  became  more  frankly  far- 
cical, there  were  moments  that  invited 
to  laughter.  But  in  the  mutual  jealousy 
of  a  pair  of  provincial  female  snobs 
there  was  never  enough  fresh  stuff  for 
a  whole  evening's  work. 

Still  I  learned  something  about  local 
manners.  In  the  best  suburban  circles 
of  Warkinstall  you  introduce  a  medical 
guest  as  Dr.  So-and-so  of  Hurley  Street. 
And  you  go  in  to  dinner  like  this :  your 
host  gives  bis  arm  to  the  leading  lady, 
and  then  pauses  for  a  brief  dialogue. 
At  its  conclusion  the  butler  announces 
dinner,  and  you  all  move  off.  This  is 
relatively  simple.  But  things  are  com- 
plicated when  the  claims  of  the  leading 
lady  (wife  of  new  knight)  threaten  to 
be  usurped  by  those  of  Another  (wife  of 
new  baronet).  In  the  play  the  former  is 
taken  ill  and  has  to  undergo  a  rest  cure 
in  the  cloak-room.  Compelled  at  last  by 
her  husband  to  mount  to  the  drawing- 
room,  she  bursts  into  a  flood  of  tears, 
and,  refusing  consolation,  rehearses 
her  woes  before  an  embarrassed  com- 
pany. The  dinner  grows  colder  every 
minute  (and  I,  for  one,  colder  still). 
No  solution  is  at  hand,  and  it  looks  as 
if  we  shouldn't  even  get  away  to  sup- 
per, when  the  new  queen  of  Warkin- 
stall has  an  inspiration.  She  offers 
her  own  arm  to  the  ex-queen  (who  is 
on  the  stout  side),  and,  to  evade  the 
vexed  question  of  precedence,  they  stick 
in  the  door  together. 

It  is  unusual  for  two  dinners  to  be 
given  in  one  play  by  the  same  host  to 
the  samo  guests.  A  pronounced  varia- 
tion in  the  procedure  was  therefore 
almost  imperative,  and  Mr.  JONES 


seems  to  have  recognised  this.  Cer- 
tainly no  one  who  witnessed  tho 
remarkable  preliminaries  of  the  second 
of  these  two  meals  had  any  right  to 
complain  that  the  dramatist  lacked  in- 
vention. For  my  part,  I  am  conscious 

'  of    having   done   a   great   injustice   to 
provincial  society.     I  see  now  that  its 

!  annals  are  not  nearly  so  colourless  as 

'  I  supposed. 

Most  of  the  fun — a  little  antiquated, 
some  of  it — turned  on  Lady  Dods- 
icorth's  wigs  and  complexions,  which 
were  made  tho  object  of  libellous  com- 
ment by  Mary  Whichello,  who  went  so 
far  as  to  say  that  her  rival  looked  like 
an  "impropriety."  It  was  the  concrete 
suggestion  underlying  this  term  that 


MARY'S  FIRST  WRIT. 
Mary  Whichello     . .     Miss  MARIE  TEMPEST. 
Felix  Galpin  ..      ..     Mr.  GRAHAM  BHOWKE. 

provoked  the  infuriated  husband  to  issue 
a  writ.  But  at  the  last  moment  the 
injured  party  declined  to  sesk  satis- 
faction in  the  courts,  for  fear  that  she 
might  be  required  to  exhibit  to  the  jury 
the  artificial  aids  to  beauty  which  had 
provoked  the  alleged  libel.  All  this 
was  good  matter  for  a  brief  farce,  but 
nothing  more. 

MARIE,  of  course,  was  first  past  the 
judge's  box  (as  I  am  confident  she 
would  have  been  if  her  case  had  come 
into  court),  and  Mr.  GKAHAM  BROWNE 
was  a  good  second.  Of  the  rest  it  may 
be  said  that  they  "  also  ran."  This  was 
no  fault  of  Mr.  FRANCE  (as  Whichello) 
or  Mr.  MUSGHAVE  (as  Sir  Thomas  Dods- 
ivorth,  Knt.).  The  behaviour  demanded 
of  the  former  was  too  extravagapt  for 
comedy,  and  the  latter  was  a  figure 
which  might  have  come  straight  out  of 
DICKENS  in  his  worst  mood  of  insistent 
overstatement. 

It  is  right  to  add  that  Mr.  HENRY 


ARTHUR  JONES'S  trifle  seems  to  have 
taken  the  wilful  fancy  of  the  public, 
which  is  probably  what  he  wanted ;  so 
that  he  can  easily  do  without  my  best 
flattery.  0.  S. 

THE  LITTLE  EEYENGE. 

TOM,  when,  your  holiday  ended,  home- 
ward you  wended  to  town, 

Flaunting  a  face  that  the  breezes  bad 
bronzed  to  the  orthodox  brown  ; 

Proudly   you   prattled    of    Plashville, 
almost  as  though  you  'd  alone 

Called  into  being  its  mud-flats,  blest 
them  with  bilgy  ozone. 

Choking    my   yawns   with    an    effort, 

Tom,  I  allowed  you  to  prate, 
Merely  remarking  (inside  me),  "Just  let 

the  imbecile  wait ; 
I  too  shall  have  a  vacation,  I  '11  have 

a  tale  to  reveal, 
I  too  will  show  a  proboscis  brazenly 

starting  to  peel." 

Well,   I  've  been  wallowing  lately  far 

from  the  taxi-cab's  roar, 
Out  where  the   rag-time  was  ringing 

down  the  salubrious  shore  ; 
Fishermen  (splendid  in  oilskins)  filched 

me  my  food  from  the  sea ; 
Only  last  Monday   your   Herbert   ate 

several  winkles  for  tea. 

Tom,   did  you  roam  among  seaweed 

luscious  and  wondrous  and  rare, 
Walk    where    the    resolute    shrimper 

bearded  his  prey  in  its  lair? 
I   have  done  this,   yea,   and    further, 

stalking  the  twain  as  they  browsed, 
Once  I  took  two  single-handed — 1  am 

a  wonder  when  roused. 

Tom,    I    have   bathed    in    the    briny, 

going  right  up  to  the  waist, 
Paddled  for  hours  at  a  stretch,  Torn, 

chartered  a  donkey  and  raced ; 
And,  now  that  I  've  told  you  about  it, 

shall  we  agree  to  esteem 
Honours  are  even  between  us  '?    Friend, 

shall  we  alter  the  theme  ? 


The  Ever-Encroaching  Sex. 
"The    3,600  boys   with    their   maters    as 
contingent    and   company  commanders  were 
organised  into  a  brigade  of  four  battalions." 
Madras  Mall. 


"  The  man  who  would  invent  a  silk  hat  that 
would  do  really  well  for  a  suit  lining  would 
make  a  fortune."— Sunday  Times. 

At  the  Halls,  of  course,  a?  a  humorist. 


"Somewhere  in  North  London  there  is  a 
pearl  worth  £2,000  literally  asking  to  be 
found!  " — Daily  Mirror. 
Scientists  who  have  listened  carefully 
outside  oyster  beds  report  that  this 
is  probably  the  only  pearl  in  existence 
that  talks  literally. 


OCTO:IKK  1,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


297 


Countryman  (wlto  has  come  to  London  by  excursion  with  a  party  of  villagers  and  get  separated  and  lost  his  way).  "  'AvE  YOU  SEEN 

ANY  OP  OUR  LADS   ABOUT?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MB.  WELLS,  in  his  new  novel,  The  Passionate  Friends 
(MACMILLAN),  has,  I  feel,  complicated  his  difficulties  by 
having  his  story  told  by  an  elderly  father  for  the  benefit  of 
an  extremely  youthful  son.  I  can  see  young  Stratton, 
arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  feeling  that  he  must,  alas, 
read  all  this  heavy  pile  of  manuscript,  struggling  through 
it,  and  then  wondering  how  it  applies  to  the  exciting  and 
entirely  original  passion  that  is  colouring  his  own  life  at 
the  moment.  Mr.  WELLS  himself  undoubtedly  forgets, 
from  time  to  time,  the  device  that  lie  has  adopted,  flings 
hurried  "little  sons"  upon  the  paper  and  then  hopes  that  the 
illusion  is  sufficiently  maintained.  Telling  the  story  in  the 
first  person  is  a  pleasant  and  easy  method  for  a  novelist,  and 
permits  him  to  enlarge  upon  his  experiences  of  India,  China 
and  Lapland,  his  theories  about  art  and  education,  and,  if 
Mr.  WELLS  is  the  author  in  question,  his  ideals  of  govern- 
ment and  social  tolerance.  I  the  more  regret  the  haphazard 
inconsequence  of  some  chapters  in  The  Passionate  Friends, 
because  the  love  story  of  Stratton  and  Mary  Christian  is 
of  fine  quality.  Lady  Mart/  herself  comes  as  a  living  parson 
to  tho  reader  only  at  certain  moments  in  the  novel,  and 
Mr.  WELLS  has  been  bewildered  at  times  between  the 
things  that  ho  wishes  her  to  say  on  behalf  of  her  sex  and 
the  things  that  she  naturally,  as  an  individual  human  being, 
would  say  spontaneously.  Her  long  letter,  towards  the 
end  of  the  book,  is  an  admirable  statement  of  the  position 


of  the  modem  woman,  but  it  is  the  voice  of  Mr.  WELLS 
and  not  of  Lady  Mary.  I  hope  that,  in  his  next  book,  Mr. 
WELLS  will  not  allow  himself  the  easy  latitude  of  a  narrative 
in  the  first  person,  and  that  he  will  restrain  some  persistent 
mannerisms.  There  are  many  pages  in  this  book  that  are 
finer  than  anything  that  he  has  yet  given  us,  but  there  are, 
here  and  there,  signs  of  carelessness  and  hasty  writing. 

When  we  first  meet  Amory  Towers,  the  heroine  of  Tlie 
Two  Kisses  (METHUEN),  by  Mr.  OLIVER  ONIOXS,  she  is,  if 
not  actually  "wasting  Christian  kisses  on  a  heathen  idol's 
foot,"  doing  something  very  like  it.  She  is  kissing  the 
marble  cheek  of  the  Antinoiis  in  the  Louvre.  Shortly  after- 
wards, at  an  artist's  party,  a  young  man  "  with  restrained 
manners  but  a  hardy  eye  "  ventures  to  kiss  her.  From  that 
moment  she  makes  up  her  mind  that  she  will  devote  the 

'  rest  of  her  life  to  embracing  Art  and  avoiding  being  em- 
braced by  Man.  She  is  never  going  to  many.  She  is  simply 
going  to  paint  great  pictures  and  have  long  conversations  on 
the  Soul,  Art,  Philistines,  Eugenics,  TOLSTOI  and  WEININGER 
with  her  platonic  friend  Mr.  Pratt.  Unfortunately,  Mr. 
Pratt  comes  into  money  and  an  estate  in  Shropshire,  cuts 
that  beautiful  hair  of  his  that  u?ed  to  cling  like  tendrils 
over  the  back  of  his  soft  grey  collar,  replaces  this  article 
with  one  of  the  stiff  up-and-down  kind,  and  begins  to  sug- 
gest marriage  like  some  ordinary  conventional  person  who 

I  has  never  heard  of  PLATO.  Finally  he  induces  her  to 
marry  him;  and  there  Mr.  ONIONS  leaves  them,  while  the 
grim  old  gentleman  who  was  painting-master  to  both  of 


298 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  1,  1913. 


them  remarks  to  a  friend,  "Perhaps  Pratt  knows  at  least 
one  little  bit  about  Life  by  this  time."  If  I  know  Amory, 
I  feel  that  be  do?s,  poor  fellow.  It  has  taken  Mr.  ONIONS 
sonic  time  to  tear  himself  away  from  the  great  Jeffries 
murder-case;  but  no  one  can  say  that  he  has  done  it  half- 
heartedly. The  Tiro  Kisses  is  one  long  laugh  from  be- 
ginning "to  end.  I  have  seldom  read  a  book  so  crammed 
with  quotable  passages,  so  full  of  admirable  thumb-nail 
sketches  of  character.  I  defy  anyone  with  a  sensa  of 
humour  not  to  revel  in  Mr.  Wellcome,  Mr.  Edmondson,  and 
the  other  dwellers  in  the  boarding -house,  "Glenerne." 
Best  of  all,  parlmps,  though  he  comes  into  the  book  too 

American  publicity  expert  of 
noo  edifice  "  •which  he  was  de- 
lennincd  to  run  on  "  noo  methods."  I  hope  Mr.  ONIONS  is 
going  to  make  a  practice  of  writing  his  books  in  threes. 
I  want  at  least  two  more  volumes  about  the  people  of  Tlie 
Two  Kisses. 


late,   is  Mr.  Miller,    the 
Ilallou'cU's  Stores — that 


Tommy  Johnson' t  name  was  not  really  Tommy  Johnson, 
yet,  for  reasons  not  wholly  intelligible  but  mostly  connected 
with  the  pride  of  the  lady  he  proposed  to  marry,  he  was 
loath  to  divulge  himself 
to  the  world  as  the  miss- 
ing Sir  Theodore  Champ ; 
01  the   other  hand,   lie 
was  not  ready  to  allow 
the   title  •  and  estate  of 
that  Baronet  to  remain 
even  in  temporary  abey- 
ance.   Determined,  then, 
upon     a     locum    tencns 
while  his  retiring  mood 
lasted,  ho   gave  the  go- 
by to  all  his  Bohemian 
friends,  who,   being  im- 
pecunious actors,  would 
have  been   glad  of  and 
competent  for  the   role, 
and  employed  a  genteel- 
looking    wastrel    whom 
he    met    on    Southwark  '- 
Bridge.     The  business  of  impersonation,  never  too  arduous 
in  novels,  was  less   exacting  in  this   instance   even  than 
usual ;    none    of    the    people    concerned    had    seen    the 
proper  Baronet  since  his  earliest  infancy  or  had  any  but 
the  vaguest  idea  what  he  ought  to  look  like.     Moreover, 
they  were  astonishingly  willing  to  accept  the  first  claimant 
for  the  post  without  insisting  on  any  substantial  proof  of 
identity,  an   attitude  difficult  to  understand  in  the  next- 
of-kin.     Much  point  was  indeed  made  by  Mr.  EDWIN  PUGH 
of  the  necessity  of  the  understudy's  possessing  one  brown 
eye  and  one  blue,  but  none  of  the  relatives  and  friends 
thought  to  observe  the  colour  of  either  eye  of  either  Sir 
Theodore  until  the  so-called  Tommy,  at  a  later  stage,  insisted 
upon  it.    Even  when  they  did  look  they  do  not  seem  to  have 
been  very  much  impressed.    They  accepted  the  impostor  off- 
hand and  refused  to  part  with  him  when  the  genuine  article, 
upon  a  second  and  wiser  thought,  asserted  himself.     In 
such  circumstances  it  was  not  to  be  expected  of  the  impostor 
that  he  should  voluntarily  sacrifice  ease  and  affluence  and 
return  to  Southwark  Bridge.  .  .  .    Certainly  there  is  little 
that   is   new  and   less  that  is   true   in  The  Proof  of  the 
Pudding  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL),  but  I  am  equally  certain 
that  there  is  no  harm  and  plenty  of  fun  in  it. 


part  than  it  does  in  0  Pioneers  I  (HEINEMANN).  It  is  a  tale, 
as  you  may  just  possibly  have  guessed  from  the  title,  about 
the  settlers  in  a  new  country,  and  a  vigorous,  earthy  and 
altogether  unusual  tale  it  is.  The  name  of  the  writer,  Miss 
WILLA  SIBEET  GATHER,  is  unfamiliar  to  me,  but  I  daresay 
she  has  a  transatlantic  reputation,  and,  if  so,  it  is  certainly 
deserved.  Her  story  is  of  a  family  of  Swedish  folk,  pioneer 
settlers  in  Nebraska,  and  their  early  hardships ;  how,  under 
the  leadership  of  the  girl  Alexandra — left  guardian  and 
controller  of  her  brothers  by  a  far-seeing  father — these 
troubles  were  overcome ;  and  of  the  later  prosperity  that 
came  to  the  little  clan  in  consequence  of  her  management. 
There  is  also  thrown  in  a  rather  belated  sensation  in  the 
latter  pages — jealousy  and  a  double  murder ;  but  somehow 
I  could  not  be  greatly  moved  by  this.  Nor  could  I  reconcile 
the  very  attractive  coloured  illustration  of  a  fashionably 
dressed  young  lady  with  my  own  conception  of  the  practical 
and  hard-working  A  lexandra.  But  these  are  minor  matters. 
What  really  counts  is  the  vivid  sympathy  with  her  scene 
that  Miss  WILLA  SIBERT  GATHER  (if  I  may  say  so  with  all 
respect,  what  remarkable  names  these  American  novelists 


do  have !)  clearly  possesses ;  it  has  enabled  her  to  convey 


an  impression  of  the 
land,  both  wild  and 
tamed,  which  alone 
would  suffice  to  confer 
distinction  on  her  work. 


THE   WORLD'S  WORKERS. 

THE   BARLE5T-SUGAB  TWISTEB. 


It  is  not  uncommon  to  speak  of  this  or 
being  "  redolent  of  the  soil,"  but  I  think  I 
in  which  the  soil  played  a  more  actual  and  conspicuous 


the  other  book  as 
never  mat  a  story 


Of  Mrs.  Day's  Daugh- 
ters      (H  ODDER        AND 

STOUGHTON),  Delcah  was 
much  too  good,  and  Bessie 
much  too  bad,  to  be  true. 
Mrs.  MANN  has  made  al- 
together too  symmetrical 
a  pattern.  From  the 
moment  of  William 
Day's  disgrace  and 
death,  demure,  delightful 
Deleah  faces  all  mis- 
fortunes with  courage, 
breaks,  of  course  un- 
consciously, all  adjacent  male  hearts,  and  is  finally  folded 
in  the  arms  of  the  benevolent  baronet,  Forcus ;  while 
Bessie,  bold  and  brazen,  setting  her  cap  at  all  and  sundry, 


with    the   dull,    disastrous 
I  can  never  bring  myself 


failing   in    every   duty,   is   left 
draper,  Boult,  for  her  portion. 

to  believe  that  in  a  given  household  there  can  long 
bo  any  doubt  as  to  which  of  the  inmates  is  in  love  with 
which  of  the  callers,  but  our  author  makes  a  liberal  use 
of  such  mystifications.  And,  by  the  way,  I  wonder  if 
Mrs.  Day  would  have  said,  "Environment  has  told  on 
Bessie,"  so  many  years  before  the  popularising  of  the 
Darwinian  jargon  ?  And  I  also  wonder  whether  the  author, 
writing  (on  p.  193)  Peggie  for  Bernard,  is  really  visualising 
her  scenes  very  keenly,  or  is  just  turning  out  so  many 
thousand  words  of  wholesome  story,  somewhat  over- 
weighted with  gloom,  rather  arbitrarily  or  (one  might  put 
it)  negatively  dated,  such  as  will  ruffle  no  library  censor's 
breast,  will  please  many  of  Mrs.  MANN'S  admirers  and  will 
disappoint  a  few  who  know  her  capable  of  better  and  less 
"phenomenally  "  facile  stuff. 


Modesty  is  at  war  with  loyalty  in  Mr.  Punch's  breast 
when  a  book  by  one  of  his  own  family  comes  in  for  review. 
But  no  one,  he  hopss,  will  carp  at  him  if  he  simply  calls 
the  attention  of  the  many  friends  of  Captain  KENDALL  to 


a  new  collection  of  "  DUM-DUM'S  "   verses,   published  by 
CONSTABLE  under  the  happy  title  of  Odd  Numbers. 


OCTOBER  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  TIIK  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


299 


CHARIVARIA. 

Mil.  REDMOND  says  that  his  motto  is, 
"  Full  steam  ahead  towards  the  mouth 
of  tho  harbour."  He  soems  to  forget 
that  ships  arc  sometimes  wrecked  at 
the  harbour  bar.  In  this  instance  the 
Bar  is  represented  by  Sir  EDWARD 
N  and  Mr.  F.  E.  SMITH. 


Sir  ALMROTH  WRIGHT'S  trenchant 
attack  upon  tho  militant  suffragist 
iiiou'inent  comes  from  tho  house  of 
CON  STABLE.  It  speaks  well  for  the 
self-control  of  tho  Force  that  a  Con- 
-itahle  should  not  have  hit  back  before 

this. 

* 

Sir  ALMROTH  declares  that  there  are 
no  good  women.     This  is  a  - 
hit  rough  on  his  mother  —  if 
the  rumour  that  he  had  one 
lie  true.  ....  ... 


Yet     another     millionaire 
has    died,   making    tho  fifth 
who  has  done  so  during  the 
present  financial  year.     This 
willingness  to  help  him  out 
with    his    Budget   is    looked  j 
upon  by  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE! 
as  valuable    disproof  of  thej 
statement  that  ho  is   hated  ! 
b    the  rich.  ...  ... 


the  dignity  of  our  sex  that  he  was  only  <  Chicago  aviator,  has  wooed  and  won  a 
knitting  his  brows  at  the  sight  of   the  [wealthy  bride  in   his  air-ship.      It  is 

unofficially  reported  that  the  words  of 
the  proposal  were,  "  Will  you  bo  my 


l)]-;ixen  minxes. 

Mr.  BOURCHIEH  has  been  complaining 
that  English  theatrical  audiences  are 
unintelligent.  Mr.  BOURCHIER  is  one 
of  our  most  popular  actors. 

"NEW  HARDY  PLVV," 
announces    The   Daily  Moil.     This  is 
what   theatrical   managers   have   been 
wanting    for    some    time.     So    many 
recent  plays  have  lacked  durability. 


A  play  by   Mr.  G.  K.  CHESTERTON 
will  be  produced  shortly  at  the  Little !  youngsters. 
Theatre.     Mr.  CHESTERTON  should  be 


ureas? 

"  :|:  " 

Two  boys,  who  arc  described  as  being 
scarcely  out  of  their  teens,  held  up  the 
New  York  to  New  Orleans  express 
train  last  wesk,  and  escaped  with 
£20,000.  This  happened  near  Bibville, 
Alabama.  Tho  taking  ways  of  Ala- 
bama coons  have  long  been  recognised, 
and,  if  names  mean  anything,  Bibvillo 
must  be  the  babies'  own  town,  and 
these  evidently  develop  into  precocious 


able  easily  to  fill  this  tiny  house. 


Mr. 

threat 


J.    M.   ROBERTSON'S 
of    withdrawing    alii 
facilities  from  Ulster  | 
has,   it   is    reported,    caused  [ 
trouble  between  him  and  the 
POSTMASTER  -  GENERAL.   Mr. 
ROBERTSON  is  said  to   have 
received    the    following 
peremptory    and    somewhat 
pathetic  cable  from  America 
off  mv  letters—  SAMUEL." 


From  an  observation  made  at  Green- 
wich it  has  been  proved  that 
the  "new"  comet  discovered 
by  an  Argentine  astronomer 
is  Westphal's  comet,  which 
returns  every  sixty-one  years. 
The  faithful  little  beast! 
The  homing  instinct  in  some 
comets  is  wonderful. 


A  volume  on  Girton 
College  is  to  be  added  by 
Messrs.  BLACK  to  their 
"  Beautiful  Britain  "  series. 
The  girl  students,  who  are 
so  frequently  accused  of  cul- 
tivating their  brains  to  tho 
detriment  of  their  personal 
appearance,  must  be  pleased 
at  this  vindication. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  DIVIDED  IRELAND  SOLVED  BY  A  SIMPLE  FEAT 
OF  ENGINEERING — IF  SCOTLAND  MAKE  NO  OBJECTIONS. 


Hands 


A  valuable  old  English  Bible,  printed 
in  1G03,  •which  was  left  in  a  public- 
house  near  Victoria  Station,  is,  it  is 
announced,  now  in  the  possession  of 
the  Pirnlico  police,  who  are  anxious  to 
discover  the  owner.  It  is  thought  that 
it  must  have  been  left  there  by  an 
absent-minded  divine. 

A  report  just  issued  shows  that  only 
thirty-eight  elephants  were  shot  in  the 
Eastern  African  Protectorate  during 
1911-12.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
heavy  licence  -  fees  are  charged  for 
killing  elephants,  and  the  sport  is  thus 
confined  to  millionaires  who  can  hit 
hay-stacks.  .:.  .;. 

The  same  report  t*I!s  u?  that  during 
the  year  nearly  two  hundred  rhinoceros 
were  bagged.  This  is  too  many.  We 
should  be  sorry  if  these  pretty  creatures 

"  there  were  in  a  third-class  compart-  Were  to  become  extinct. 

ment  two  women  smoking   cigarettes  j 

and  a  man  knitting."     Let  us  hope  for  j      Mr.     LOGAN     ViLAS,    a    prominent 


The  Socialist  delegates  assembled  in 
conference  at  Stuttgart  have  rejected  a 
proposal  for  the  erection  of  a  monu- 
ment to  their  late  leader,  Herr  BEHEL. 
History  is  certainly  against  a  Tower  of 
Bebel  being  practical  politics. 

"Russia  turns  out  the  best  dancers  to- 
day," says-a  contemporary.  "  And  India 
to-morrow,"  says  Miss  MAUD  ALLAN. 

Sir  EDWARD  HENRY  has  decided  that 
there  are  to  bo  special  police  vans  for 
ladies.  It  only  remains  now  to  hope 
that  these  will  he  sufficiently  patronised 
to  make  the  experiment  worth  while. 

"  As  a  train  went  out  of  Paddington 
Station  the  other  day,"  we  are  told, 


"  Evidence    showed    that    tho 
accused  had  left  a  basket  at  the 
cloakroom.     Later  he  called  and 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  into  the 
basket." — Scotsman. 

But  he  couldn't  escape  the  police  like 
that. 

Another  Baboo  Letter. 

"HELL! 

MY  KIXD  MASTER,  MISTRESS,  &  MIBS  SAHIB, — 
I  handfully  beg  in  your  kind  feet  Sirs  If  truth  is 
something  on  a  world  for  God  sake  belevo  tq 
me.  I  am  in  a  great  distriss  so  I  dont  want 
any  sort  of  trouble  to  master  except  take  a  few 
minutes  to  write  a  word  to  any  of  these  under- 
mentioned officer  who  coming  out  to  India  in 
next  cold  season  weather  any  officer  engage 
me  on  trial. 

li  I  will  get  any  job  by  masters  kindness 
one  doz  hungry  men  will  pray 

Sir  Excuse  for  bother 

My  humble  salaam  to  all." 


"  MR.  ILLINGWOBTH  PAYS. 
Mr.  Illingworth  led  through  the  turnstile 
and  tabled  the  pier  dues  for  the  Chancellor." 
Glasgow  Evening  Times. 

If  the  reporter  had  been  listening  as 
well  as  watching,  he  would  have  heard 
the  CHANCELLOR  say,  as  they  walked 
up  the  pier,  "  ILLINGWORTH,  you  know 
I  am  a  comparatively  poor  man." 


VOL.    CXLV. 


£00 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  8,  1913. 


THE    PAVED    COURT. 

,"  I  said,  "you  may  as  well  save  yourself 
fur!  IIIT  trouble.  It  is  useless.  You  shall  not  interest  me 
in  the  garden." 

••  But  I  tcill  interest  you  in  it,"  she  said.  '^You  must 
share  with  me  the  planning  of  these  alterations." 

-And  that,"  I  said  vehemently,  "is  precisely  what  I 
refuse  to  do.  1  like  the  garden  well  enough  as  it  is.  It 
has  flowers  and  shrubs  and  grass,  and  trees  and  beds  and 
borders.  There  is  a  pond.  There  are  lilies  and  gold  fish 
in  the  pond.  There  is,  I  believe,  a  pergola;  and  there  are 
vegetables.  All  these  things  are  usual  in  a  garden,  and 
1  have  no  personal  objection  to  any  of  them ;  but  when  it 
comes  to  alterations " 

••  And  that  is  just  what  it  has  come  to,"  she  said. 

••  When  it  comes  to  changing  things  about  1  take  no 
part  in  it;  I  let  it  flow  over  me,  for  I  know  it  would  be 
quite  useless  for  me  to  say  or  do  anything." 

'•  And  when  it  is  all  finished  you  suddenly  become  aware 
of  it,  though  it 's  been  going  on  under  your  very  nose — 

"  It  is  my  best  feature,"  1  said. 

"And'then  you  ask  wildly! who. has  ruined  your  garden 
(your  garden,  indeed)  by  all  these, hideous  changes.  Oh,  I 
know  you,  and  I  refuse  to  let 'you  do  it  this  time." 
— "TTrancesca,"  I  said,  "  you  are  no\vr'  uttering  wild  and 
whirling  words.  I  cannot  influence  your  determinations, 
but  I  can  always  say  'I  told  you  so.'  You  could  not  think 
of  robbing  me  of  that  poor  privilege."  ' 

"  I  call  it  mere  perversity,"  she  said. 

"  Do  you  really,  Francesca  ?.  "  I  said.  "  Surely  that 
cannot  be  the  right  word,  j  My  mother  and  my  Aunt 
Matilda  have  often  told  me  thalt  in  early  childhood  I  was 
bold,  gentle,  generous  and  affectionate.  My  fault,  they  said, 
if  I  had  any,  was  an  excessiv'e  softness  of  heart,  but  they 
never  said  a  word  about  perversity." 

"  Your  nature,"  she  said,  '.'  must  have  altered." 

"  There  you  go  again,"  I  said.  "You  can  think  of 
nothing  but  alterations.  Natures  are  not  like  gardens* 
They  are  not  altered  ;  they  develop.  Mine  is  still  what  it 
was,  only  more  so." 

"  Heredity,"  she  said  in  the  yague  tone  of  one  addressing 
herself,  ".is  a  strange  thing.  ;It  was  only  yesterday  that  I 
had  to  correct  Frederick  for  being  perverse  and  unmanage- 
able." 

"  Not  harshly,  I  hope,  for  remember  Frederick  has  your 
high  spirit.  He  would  not  brook  much  correction." 

"On  the  contrary,  he  brooked  it  like  an  angel.  I've 
always  said  that  little  boy —  '  She  paused. 

"  '  Is  like  his  dear  father.'  You  meant  to  say  it,  Francesca, 
I  know  you  did.  Oh,  why  that  cruel  pause?" 

"  We  will  leave  Frederick  out  of  the  question,"  she  said. 

"  No,  we  will  not,"  I  said.  "  I  did  not  drag  him  in,  but, 
now  that  he  is  there,  I  mean  to  use  him  for  all  he  's  worth. 
Frederick  is  like  me — " 

"  He  is  not,"  she  said. 

"  He  is,"  I  said.  "  He  may  be  led,  but  he  will  not  be 
driven.  You  should  appeal  to  his  reason." 

"  Let  us,"  she  said,  "resume  the  subject  of  the  garden." 

"Yes,"  I  said  eagerly,  "let  us.  Where  were  we?  Yes, 
I  remember.  You  want  to  move  the  pond  from  its  present 
retired  position  to  the  centre  of  the  lawn.  Do  it.  I  approve. 
Frederick  and  the  girls  will  tumble  into  it  more  readily,  but 
what  of  that  ?" 

"I  never  said  anything  about  the  pond,"  she  said.  "I 
was  asking  you — 

"  How  foolish  of  me,"  I  said.  "  Of  course  it  wasn't  you 
who  mentioned  the  pond.  It  was  Mrs.  Baskerville.  She 
was  saying  the  other  day  what  a  wonderful  gardener  you 


were,  and  how  beautiful  the  garden  was,  except  for  the 
position  of  the  pond." 

"  The  pond,"  said  FranCesca,  "  is  going  to  remain  where 
it  is." 

"  Is  that  wise,  do  you  think?  I  rather  thought  it  would 
do  the  pond  good  to  be  moved ;  but,  of  course,  if  you  really 
object  I  yield  at  once." 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  "  I  couldn't  think  of  asking  you  to 
make  such  a  sacrifice.  It  is  for  me  to  yield.  We  will  move 
the  pond." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  I  insist  on  yielding.  The  pond 
shall  remain  rooted  to  its  rockery." 

•"Very  well,"  she  said;  "I  will  let  you  yield  about  the 
pond,  and  I  will  yield  about  the  little  paved  court." 

"  How  so?  "  I  said. 

"I  half  thought  of  having  it  on  tho  north  side,  but  you 
said  you  didn't  care  for  that.  I  give  way  at  once.  Wo  will 
have  it  on  the  south  side,  where  you  thought  the  pond 
ought  to  be." 

"But "  I  said. 

"  I  insist,"  she  said.  "  Sometimes  on  wet  days  it  will 
look  like  a  pond." 

",I  am  not  sure,"  I  said,  "  that  a  paved  court  is  exactly 
what  I  wanted  there." 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  you  are  going  to  be  too  generous. 
You  are  going"  to  yield  again." 

"No,"  I  said,  "not  quite  that.  I  only  want  you  to  be 
quite  sure  about  it." 

"  Oh,  1  'm  that  all  right.  It's  the  one  place  in  the  garden 
where  a  paved  court  ought  to  be." 

"  Aha,"  I  said  ;  "  then  you  admit  I  was  right  in  objecting 
to  the  north  side?  " 

"  Absolutely  right,"  she  said.  "  I  can't  think  why  I  ever 
suggested  it  there." 

"It's  not  a  bad  thing,"  I  said,  "to  take  advice  now  and 
then." 

"  An  excellent  thing,"  said  Francesca.  "  I  '11  order  the 
paving-stones  at  once  and  tell  Macphe'rsori  to  mark  it  out." 

!'  U.  C.  L. 

THOUGHTS  ON   A  GLITTERING  BAUBLK. 
(Inscribed  mth  undying  gratitude  to  "  The  Daily  Mail.") 

IT  filled  me  with  a  positive  obsession    : 
From  merest  infancy,  this  lust  of  fame  ; 

A  mewling  cub,  in  moments  of  depression 
I  bawled  my  own,  and  not  my  nurse's  name; 

My  conduct,  sweet  by  turns  and  vitriolic, 

•    Was  ever  aimed  at  rousing  public  bruit ; 

It  was,  indeed,  of  coroners  and  colic    > 

I  really  thought  when  pouching  stolen  fruit. 

And  when  I  came  to  Culture's  high  academy 

I  carved  my  name  on  each  conspicuous  spot ; 
The  Head  observed  it  really  was  too  bad  o'  me — 

And  oh,  the  handsome  swishing  that  I  got! 
At  length  I   bloomed  in  verse  and  gave  somo 
promise  I  'd 

One  day  be  famous  by  my  Muse's  dint ; 
Alas,  I  found,  unless  by  wreaking  homicide 

On  editors,  I  'd  never  bloom  in  print ! 

But  now  my  woes  arc  vanished,  and  the  rigours 

Of  foiled  ambition.     Only  yestermorn 
Two  million  eyes  (cf.  official  figures) 

Perused  my  name  in  blazoned  honour  borne. 
My  long  obscurity  was  lightning-riven, 

My  ears  with  fame  were  fairly  thundsr-stunued, 
For  I,  by  all  the  gcd?,  had  been  and  given 

A  penny  to  the  High  Olympic  Fund  ! 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOBER  8,  1913. 


ANOTHEE    PEACE    CONFERENCE. 

TURKEY   (to   Greece).    "AHA!     MY    YOUNG    FRIEND,     ALONE    AT     LAST1      NOW     WE     CAN 
ARRANGE    A    REALLY    NICE    TREATY." 


OCTOBER  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON   C'HARIN  AIM. 


303 


>*x-^'    "-:^%. 


Husband.  "  'Eue,  LET'S  MOVE  ox;   IT'S  GETTCSO  LATK." 

Wife.  "On,  LET  's  STAV  AN'  WATCH  THE  OLD  GEEZEB  A  LITTLE  LOSGER — IT  's  JOHX  ALBERT'S  BIBFDAV." 


AEE  GOLFERS  SNOBBISH? 

THE  charge  of  snobbishness  brought 
against  golfers  by  ABE  MITCHELL  (late 
Mr.  ABE  MITCHELL)  is  one  that  has 
aroused  quite  as  much  interest  as  it 
deserves.  Whatever  grounds  the  emi- 
nent professional  may  have  for  his 
complaint,  there  appear  to  be  reasons 
for  both  agreement  and  disagreement 
with  his  opinion. 

One   of  our  littlo   band   of    special 
investigators   has   been  making  a  few 
inquiries  on  a  popular  holiday  course 
in  the  South  of   England.      "Golfers 
Bobbish?"  exclaimed  one  breezy  player 
I  with  whom  he  discussed  the  question. 
•  I'Vss  my  soul,  not  us!     Why,  only 
tin'  other  day — but  you  're  not  smoking. 
'  Have  one   of  mine — half-a-crowu   for 
tluvo,  they  cost,  and  worth  it.     Well, 
I  as  I  was  saying,  only  the  other  day  I 
pl;i\cd  with  a  young  chap  down  here, 
]  ami  what  do  you  think  he  was?     A 
I  bunk  clerk.     Well,  you  know,  I  never 
;  said  anything,  not  even  when  he  beat  me. 
And  we  had  a  drink  together  afterwards, 
jii.it  us  if  ho  was  one  of  my  own  class. 
s  another  instance  :  last  Tuesday 
i  my  caddie  to  ask  a  gentleman  if 
ho  would  play  with  me — a  very  ordinary- 
looking  gentleman   too.     We    got    on 
very   friendly   until   the   ninth    green. 
Then  I  asked  him  how  many  he  had 
taken,  and  he  said  he  thought  it  was 


five.  Now  I  had  been  watching  him 
closely,  and  know  it  was  six,  and  I  told 
him  so.  I  also  told  him  to  be  careful 
how  he  counted.  Well,  he  took  it  quite 
calmly ;  he  even  apologised  for  his 
mistake — and  yet,  after  the  game  was 
over,  I  was  informed  that  ho  was  Lord 
Dormy.  Of  course,  when  I  saw  him 
next  day  I  went  up  and  apologised. 
Not  a  bit  snobbish,  you  see.  No, 
MITCHELL  'a  prejudiced.  No  use 
attaching  any  importance  to  these 
working  men — I  know  them.  Let  me 
see,  what  piper  did  you  say  you 
represent  ?  Oh,  do  you  ?  Well,  let  me 
give  you  a  lift  in  my  car." 

"  Certainly,  I  consider  golfers  an 
(intensely  snobbish  class,"  said  a 
thoughtful-looking  young  man  who 
was  searching  for  a  ball  among  the 
heather  beyond  the  fourteenth.  "For 
instance,  those  two  men  who  have  just 
gone  through  would  have  helped  me 
look  for  my  ball  if  they  had  been 
gentlemen,  instead  of  shouting  so 
rudely.  I  had  an  experience  here 
three  weeks  ago  which  bears  out 
MITCHELL'S  complaint.  I  arrived  late, 
and  only  one  player  was  waiting.  So 
we  agreed  to  play  together.  My  handi- 
cap will,  I  hope,  soon  be  24 ;  his,  I 
believe,  was  6.  After  all,  as  I  said  to 
him,  a  difference  of  eighteen  is  not 
serious — it  might  be  more.  He  was  a 
most  uncommunicative  man  ;  he  could 


talk  of  nothing  but  golf,  and  when  I 
tried  him  with  SHAW,  the  principles  of 
vegetarianism,  eugenics  and  other  topics 
upon  which  intellectual  persons  may 
converse,  ho  was  silent.  1  happened  to 
mention  that  my  father  was  a  draper, 
and  that,  I  believe,  must  have  pre- 
judiced him  aga-inst  me,  for  he  has 
never  offered  to  play  with  me  since, 
and,  indeed,  appears  to  wish  to  avoid 
me.  But  one  of  the  biggest  snobs 
down  here  is  a  person  with  a  woollen 
jacket.  You  may  have  seen  him.  I 
happened  to  get  in  a  good  brassie  shot 
one  day — better  than  I  expected — and 
it  fell  rather  near  him.  It  may  have 
even  struck  him.  That  is  how  I  first 
noticed  him.  Ho  is  an  offensively 
snobbish  and  uncompanionable  p3rson, 
in  my  opinion." 


From  the  Eules  of  Winchester  Foot- 
ball :— 

"No  player  may  back  up  a  kick  made  by 
one  of  his  own  side  or  play  tho  ball  in  any 
way,  unless  he  was  l>  'himl  the  b.ill  at  thetimo 
when  it  was  kicked,  or  has  afterwards  gcno 
back  behind  the  point  from  which  it  was 
kicked,  or  has  since  been  kicked  by  it  player  of 
his  own  side." 

The  most  likely  of  these  three  saving 
conditions  is  that  he  will  be  kicked  by 
a  player  of  his  own  side  for  backing  up 
too  soon — thus  automatically  (as  it 
were)  becoming  "onside"  again. 


304 


PUNCH,  OE  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  8,  1013, 


THE   TRAFFIC    PROBLEM. 

(An  honest  attempt  to  reduce  the  dangers 


through  killing  you.  I  have  known 
the  driver  of  a  hansom  use  the  most 
dreadful  language  when  ho  nearly  ran 


"  I  thought  once  of  using  real  habics 
But  they  're  difficult  to  come  by  for  the 
purpose,  so  I  gave  up  the  idea.  1  askec 


of  the  pedestrian.)  over  me.    But  I  was  a  human  life  then,   my  sister  for  the  loan  of  one  of  hers 

HAITKNING  to  look  over  the  garden  Now  I  am  merely  a.  third  party  risk,  hut  she  was  nasty  about  it.  If  you 
wall  tho  other  day,  I  was  surprised  to  j  Insurance  companies  have  a  good  deal  i  borrow  them  without  asking  the  owner's 
see  my  neighbour  Gibbs  busily  engaged  to  answer  for."  j  leave  there's  apt  to  be  a  fuss,  and  J 

with    something   in   the  nature  of    a       "But   you   haven't   explained   what ,  bate  notoriety.     Besides,  you  can  eel 
perambulator.      The  contents    of    the,  you  do  with  the  baby?  "  1  asked.  |  compensation  for  crockery  but  not  foi 


perambulator  bore  a  resemblance  to  a 


baby.    Gibbs  is  a  bachelor, 
surprise.    I  hailed  him. 
"Hullo!     Have  \<>u 
got    relations    staying 
with  you '!  " 
••  No." 
"  Friends  ?  " 
"  No." 

"  Where  did  you  gst 
the  baby  then?" 

"This  isn't  a  baby. 
At  least  it  isn't  a  real 
baby." 

He  turned  towards 
me,  and  I  noticed  that 
he  was  dressed  in  the 
shabbiest  of  garments. 
He  approached  the  wall. 
There  was  a  strange 
look  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  don't  own  a 
motor,  do  you  ? "  he 
asked. 

I  did  not,  and  said  so. 

"Do       you       like 

motors  ?  "  he  went  on. 

"  Not  unless  I  'in  in 

one.     And  then  I  don't 

like  other  motors." 

"  Well,  I  '11  tell  you 
about  it,"  he  said.  "I'm 
tired  of  being  chased 
about  tho  roads  and 
driven  down  subways 
like  a  scared  rabbit. 
I  've  declared  war  on 
all  motor  traffic.  I 
smashed  one  fellow's 
windscreen  not  long 
ago — with  my  head." 

"Didn't  it  hurt?"  I 
asked. 

"  At    the  time, 


Hence  my 


1 1  onco  had  a  great  success  by  drop- 1  babies, 
ping  my  cricket  bag  under  a  cyclists'  I      "  I   never 


yes: 


Irish 


•ishman  (after  ten  years  in  tlie  Colonies,  arriving  in  Dublin  during  the  recent 
riots).  "HooROo!     THEN  THEY'VE  GOT  HOME  RULE  AT  LAST." 


but  they  managed  to  get  my  ear  back  |  touring  club  that  tried  to  frighten  me 
into  pretty  much  its  old  place,  and  after  That 's  where  I  got  my  idea  of  leavin" 
a    while  the  pieces  of  my  face  came  :  a  perambulator  under  a  motor  " 
together  again.     It   hardly   shows— a       "  But  it  wouldn't  upset  a  motor  " 


try  for  more  than  five 
-j  pounds'  compensation 
The  first  five  pounds 
is  generally  'owner's 
risk.'  You  can  often 
scare  live  pounds  out 
of  a  motorist  while  he  'a 
still  weak  from  the 
shock  of  thinking  it 
was  a  real  baby.  Over 
five  pounds  you  run 
on  to  insurance  com 
panics,  and  they  're 
very  inquisitive. 

"  You  have  to  dress 
the  part,  of  course.  I 
don't  work  the  same 
pitch  twice.  Thepolice- 
man  on  that  beat  might 
recognise  you  and  get 
suspicious,  if  ho  should 
happen  to  arrive  before 
the  thing  was  quite 
over. 

"  In  any  case  you  get 
exercise  and  good  sport 
at  a  small  outlay,  and 
sometimes  you  make  a 
profit.  And  at  the 
worst  there  is  always 
the  inspiring  thought 
that  you  are  striking 
a  blow  for  the  down- 
trodden pedestrian." 


Dutch  Courage. 
"Finally     there     is,     I 
think,  the  finest  18th  hole 
in  all  the  world.     Th.   tee 
shot     must     first     he    hit 
straight  and  long  between 
a  vast  bunker  on  the   left 
which   whispers    '  slice  '   in 
—  the     player's     ear    and    a 
the    right    which    induces    a 


nice  piece  of  surgical  work." 


It  was  quite  true. 
make  out  the  scars. 


I  could  only  just 


"  I  've  done  a  good  deal  to  abate  the 
cycle  nuisance.  But  that  was  easier. 
A  gentle  push  on  the  handle  bar  would 

be  enough.     But  motor-cars  are  more   which  isn't  good  for  rubber  tyres 
clitncult.    There  is  no  'give'  in  a  motor.   L— 


"  It  upsets  the  occupants.     I  make 

baby, 


wilderness  en 

hurried  hock." — Times. 

A  quick  pull   at   the  whisky 
more  popular  at  St.  Andrews. 


ilask 


is 


up  the  contents  to  look  like  a 


women  in 


and   I   choose    a   car  with 

it.     Women   are   queer    about    babies. 

They   don't   like   running   over   them. 


The  campaign  against  sensational 
headings  recently  illustrated  in  Punch 
does  not  find  favour  in  the  provincial 
Press.  The  Bournemouth  Daily  Erho, 


The  foundation  is  really  old  crockery,   describing  the  illness  of  a  member  of 


"Bus  poles  were  bad  enough,  but  motor- 


turnip  or  a  piece  of  cheese  at  the  top 


A   the  House  of  Commons,  says : — 


looks  quite   like  a  very  young  baby's 
cars   are   worse.      Horses   didn't    like  head.     Sometimes,  too,  I   make  a   bit 


treading  on  people,  and  the  drivers  were 
afraid  of  being  put  to  a  lot  of  expense 


out  of  my  smashed  crockery.    Business 
combined  with  pleasure. 


"A  doctor  was  sent  for,  and  the  hon. 
gentleman  was  removed  home.  His  condition 
is  regarded  as  more  or  less  serious." 

This  is  headed  : — 

"M.P.'s  SUDDEN  DEATH." 


OCTOBEB  8,  1913.] 


rUNCII,   OR  THE  LONDON  CJIARIVAKT. 


305 


A  NASTY  JAR. 

["  There  is  no  surer  way  to  make  a  girl  beautiful  than  to  make  her 
happy." — HM.L  CAIXE.] 

I  HAVE  known  fairer  maids.     Nay,  I  '11  be  frank, 
And  own  her  void  of  all  external  graces. 

Lack-lustro  hair  and  freckles  joined  to  rank 
Hers  with  the  unattractive  brands  of  faces. 

Her  friends  (in  sorrow)  said  that  "  dearest  Jane  " 

Was  almost  preternaturally  plain. 

But  I — I  had  the  sense  to  look  within. 

What  though  her  features  might  be  fashioned  rumly, 
Plainness  is  seldom  deeper  than  the  skin; 

Her  soul  might  be  comparatively  comely, 
The  sort  of  simple  spirit  that  would  seo 
IIow  clever  was  her  husband  (meaning  me). 

And  so  I  made  the  (very)  old  request, 
Behaved  myself  in  much  tho  usual  fashion, 

Save  that  perhaps  the  words  of  my  behest 
Proclaimed  a  slightly  patronising  passiou. 

I  spoke— there  came  a  negative  reply. 

0  strange  event  I     O  oner  in  the  eye  1 

Nor  is  that  all.     More  painful  to  confess, 
Far  from  repenting  this  egregious  blunder, 

Straightway  she  blossomed  into  loveliness, 

Turning  her  fair  companions  green  (with  wonder). 

And  now  each  radiant  feature  bluntly  mentions 

ller  joy  at  being  rid  of  my  attentions. 


DEAMATIC  GOSSIP. 

NOWADAYS,  variety  managers  when  in  doubt  go  to  America. 
No  one  objects  to  that,  but  unfortunately  they  do  not  stay 
there.  They  come  hack  with  "  the  goods,"  or  what  they  con- 
sider the  goods.  Hence  the  recent  race  between  three  of 
these  enterprising  gentlemen  to  see  which  could  reproduce 
first  in  London  a  stage  staircase  effect  which  they  had  all 
seen  simultaneously  on  the  other  side.  Tho  obvious  house 
for  it,  the  Scala,  did  not  compete. 

The  new  revue,  at  the  Opprobrium,  which  has  been  called 
(very  properly)  Cheese  It  I  is  absolutely  packed  with  novel 
features.  Among  these  is  of  course  the  wonderful  staircase, 
on  which  five  hundred  carpenters  were  at  work  night  and 
day.  Another  feature  is  a  procession  of  the  smartest  dressed 
men  in  London,  wearing  all  the  latest  things  in  socks,  ties 
and  waistcoats,  who  walk  through  the  house  from  stalls  to 
gallery  and  then  round  the  parapet  of  the  dress  circle  singing 
"  The  Glad-rag  Rag."  All  the  company  is  American,  but 
there  are  a  few  vacancies  still  for  programme-sellers,  for 
which  English  actors  and  actresses  are  invited  to  apply. 

In  addition  to  the  very  remarkable  staircase  effect  which 
is  offered  at  the  Delirium,  on  which  no  fewer  than  eight 
hundred  carpenters  have  besn  working,  the  cew  revue, 
called  Throw  that  Brick  I  has  a  specially  constructed  slide 
from  the  gallery  to  the  stage,  by  which  the  performers 
make  their  entry.  There  is  also  a  Fur  Chorus,  consisting 
of  the  most  beautiful  women  which  a  certain  amount  of 
money  could  tempt  from  the  United  States,  all  wearing 
different  kinds  of  fur,  tho  price  of  each  being  fixed  to  it 
in  legible  figures.  Orders  for  similar  articles  are  received 
in  the  box-office  during  each  performance.  The  manage- 
ment wish  it  to  be  understood  that  the  statement  that 
no  English  performer  is  engaged  in  this  theatre  is  a  vile 
falsehood.  One  of  the  male  chorus  is  English,  as  also  is 
the  call-boy. 


Chief  Officer.  "A  STOWAWAY,  EH?" 

Bo' sun.  "\VEM,,  NOT  EXACTLY,  Sm;    'B  'AHDLY  GOT  THAT  FAS. 

E  FOUSD   "IM    WEDGED    'AIIF-WAY    THBOCOn    A   WATEETIGHT   DOOB." 


The  clever  gentlemen  who  have  adapted  from  the  French 
the  sparkling  farce  entitled  Les  100,000  Chemises,  under  the 
title  Sign,  Please !  have  not  stopped  there.  They  have 
also  arranged  that  the  theatre  shall  be  open  every  morning 
at  eight  for  Tango  Breakfasts  and  remain  open  for  Tango 
Luncheons  and  Tango  Teas,  together  with  a  ceaseless 
exhibition  of  the  best  under-clothes  that  can  bo  obtained. 
All  true  lovers  of  the  British  drama  must  rejoice  at  their 
efforts. 

"SOCIETY'S  DIARY. 

The  following  list  of  engagements  is  published  for  general  infor- 
mation and  to  assist  Committees  and  others  in  arranging  the  dates 
of  social  functions  so  as  to  prevent  inconvenient  clashing  : — 

SEPTEMBER. 
11 — The  Shanghai  Cotton  Manufacturing  Co.,  Ld.,  annual  general 

meeting,  at  5  p.m. 
12 — The  Sungei  Duri,  Rubbor  Estate,  Ld.,  annual  general  mooting 

at  4.30  p.m. 

24 — Annual  meeting  of  The  Ssc  Kca  Rubber  Estates,  Ld.  4.30  p.m." 

North  China  Daily  News. 

Really,  life  in  China  seems  to  be  one  constant  whirl  of  gaiety. 


"  Tho  horsa  shied  and  became  unmanageable,  struck  a  grass  tree, 
and  horse  and  rider  came  with  great  force  to  the  ground.  Jlr.  Coutts 
escaped  with  a  broken  neck,  which  ho  had  given  JK5  for  a  short  time 
previously  and  had  to  walk  and  carry  his  saddle  and  bridle." 

Lau'loit  Timet. 

Mr.  COUTTS  should  get  a  cheaper  neck  next  time. 


"In  M.  Pegoud's  first  flight  he  rose  to  3,000  feet,  and  flew  with 
his  wheels  in  the  air  a  distance  of  over  a  mile." — Ki-eninj  Neics. 

Six  or  seven  years   ago   this   would   have  sounded  quite 
wonderful.     Now  it  leaves  us  unmoved. 


306 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBEB    8.    1913. 


A    TRUNK    CALL. 

LAST  Wednesday,  being  the  anniver- 
sary cf  the  Wednesday  before,  Celia 
gave  me  a  present  of  a  door-knocker 
The  knocker  was  in  the  shape  of  an 
elephant's  head  (not  life-size),  and  by 
bumping  the  animal's  trunk  againsl 
his  chin  you  could  produce  a  sinal. 
brass  noise. 

"  It 's  for  the  library,"  she  explained 
eagerly.  "  You  're  going  to  work  there 
this  morning,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  shall  be  very  busy,"  I  said 
in  my  busy  voice. 

"  Well,   just   put   it   up   before  you 
start,  and  then  if  I  have  to  interrupt 
you    for    anything    important,   I   can 
knock  with  it.     Do  say  you  love  it." 
j      "  It 's  a  dear,  and  so  are  you.     Come 
i  along,  let 's  put  it  up." 

I  got  a  small  screwdriver,  and  with 
very  little  loss  of  blood  managed  to 
screw  it  into  the  door.  Some  people 
are  born  screwists,  some  are  not.  I  am 
one  of  the  nots. 

"  It 's  rather  sideways,"  said  Celia 
doubtfully. 

"  Osso  erry,"  I  said. 
"What?" 

I  took  my  knuckle  from  my  mouth. 
"  Not  so  very,'>v[  repeated. 
"  I  wish  it  had  been  straight." 
"So  do  I;    but' it's  too  late  now. 
You  have  to  leave  these  things  very 
largely   to    the    screwdriver.      Besides 
elephants   often   do   have  their  heads 
sideways  ;  I  've  noticed  it  at  the  Zoo." 
"  Well,  never  mind.   I  think  it 's  very 
clever  of  you  to  do  it  at  all.    Now  then, 
you  go  in,  and  I  '11  knock  and  see  if  you 
hear." 

I  went  in  and  shut  the  door,  Celia 
remaining  outside.    After  five  seconds, 
having  heard  nothing,  but  not  wishing 
to  disappoint  her,  I  said,  "  Come  in," 
in    the   voice    of   one    who   has   been 
suddenly  disturbed  by  a  loud  "Eat-tat." 
"  I  haven't  knocked  yet,"  said  Celia 
from  the  other  side  of  the  door. 
"  Why  not?" 

"  I  was  admiring  him.  He  is  jolly. 
Do  come  and  look  at  him  again." 

I  went  out  and  looked  at  him  again. 
He  really  gave  an  air  to  the  library 
door. 

"  His  face  is  rather  dirty,"  said  Celia. 
"  I  think  .he  wants  some  brass  polish 
and  a — and  a  bun." 

She  ran  off  to  the  kitchen.  I  remained 
behind  with  Jumbo  and  had  a  little 
practice.  The7- knock  was  not  alto- 
gether convincing,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  his  chin  was  too  receding  for  his 
trunk  to  get  at  it  properly.  I  could 
iiear  it  quite  easily  on  my  own  side 
of  the  dcor,  but  I  felt  rather  doubtful 
whether  the  sound  would  penetrate 
nto  the  room.  The  natural  noise  of 


the  elephant — roar,  bar,k,  whistle  o: 
whatever  it  is — I  have  never  heard 
but  I  am  told  it  is  very  terrible  to 
denizens  of  the  jungle.  Jumbo's  cry 
would  not  have  alarmed  an  ant. 

Celia  came  back  with  flannels  anc 
things  and  washed  Jumbo's  face. 

" There !  "  she  said.  "Now  his  mother 
would  love  him  again."  Very  confi- 
dently she  propelled  his  trunk  againsi 
his  chin  and  added,  "Come  in." 

"  You  can  hear  it  quite  plainly,"  ] 
said  quickly. 

"  It  doesn't  re — rever — reverberate — 
is  that  the  word?"  said  Celia,  "  bul 
it 's  quite  a  distinctive  noise.  I  'm  sure 
you  'd  hear  it." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  should.     Let's  try." 

"Not  now.  I  '11  try  later  on,  when  you 
aren't  expecting  it.  Besides,  you  must 
begin  your  work.  Good-bye.  Work 
hard."  She  pushed  me  in  and  shut 
the  door. 

I  began  to  work. 

I  work  best  on  the  sofa ;  I  think 
most  clearly  in  what  appears  to  the 
hasty  observer  to  be  an  attitude  of 
rest.  But  I  am  not  sure  that  Celia 
really  understands  this  yet.  Accord- 
ingly, when  a  knock  conies  at  the  door 
I  jump  to  my  feet,  ruffle  my  hair,  and 
stride  up  and  down  the  room  with  one 
hand  on  my  brow.  "  Come  in,"  I 
call  impatiently,  and  Celia  finds  me 
absolutely  in  the  thross.  If  there 
should  chance  to  be  a  second  knock 
later  on,  I  make  a  sprint  for  the  writing 
desk,  seize  pen  and  paper,  upset  the  ink 
or  not  as  it  happens,  and  present  to 
anyone  coming  in  at  the  door  the  most 
thoroughly  engrossed  back  in  London. 

But  that  was  in  the  good  old  days 
of  knuckle-knocking.  On  this  parti- 
ular  morning  I  had  hardly  written 
more  than  a  couple  of  thousand  words 
— I  mean  I  had  hardly  got  the  cushions 
at  the  back  of  my  head  comfortably 
settled  when  Celia  came  in. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said  eagerly. 

I  struggled  out  of  the  sofa. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  asked  sternly. 

"  Did  you  hear  it  all  right  ?  " 

"I  didn't  hear  anything." 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said  in  great  disappoint- 
ment. "  But  perhaps  you  were  asleep," 
she  went  on  hopefully. 

"Certainly  not.     I  was  working." 

"Did  I  interrupt  you?" 

"  You  did  rather ;  but  it  doesn't 
natter." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  won't  do  it  again— 
unless  I  really  have  to.  Good-bye, 
and  good  luck." 

She  went  out  and  I  returned  to  my 
sofa.  After  an  hour  or  so  my  mind 
began  to  get  to  work,  and  I  got  up  and 
walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  room. 
The  gentle  exercise  seemed  to  stimulate 
me.  Seeing  my  new  putter  in  the 


corner  of  the  room,  I  took  it  up  (my 
brain  full  of  other  things)  and,  drop- 
ping a  golf  ball  on  the  carpet,  began 
to  practise.  After  five  or  ten  minutes, 
my  ideas  being  now  quite  clear,  I  was 
just  about  to  substitute  the  pen  for  the 
putter  when  Celia  came  in. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said.  "  Are — are  you 
busy  ?  " 

I  turned  round  from  a  difficult  putt 
with  the  club  in  my  hand. 

"  Very,"  I  said.     "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  want  to  disturb  you  if  you  're 
working — 

"  I  am." 

"  But  I  just  wondered  if  you — if  you 
liked  artichokes." 

I  looked  at  her  coldly. 

"  I  will  fill  in  your  confession  book 
another  time,"  I  said  stiffly,  and  I  sat 
down  with  dignity  at  my  desk  and 
dipped  the  putter  in  the  ink. 

"It's  for  dinner  to-night,"  said  Celia 
persuasively.  "  Do  say.  Because  I 
don't  want  to  eat  them  all  by  myself." 

I  saw  that  I  should  have  to  humour 
her. 

"  If  it 's  a  Jerusalem  artichoke  you 
mean,  yes,"  I  said ;  "  the  other  sort, 
no.  J.  Arthur  Choke  I  love." 

"  Eight-o  Sorry  for  interrupting." 
And  then  as  she  went  to  the  door, 
"  You  did  hear  Jumbo  this  time,  didn't 
you?"  .  .. 

"  I  believe  that 's  the  only  reason  you 
came  in  for." 

"  Well,  one  of  them." 

"  Are  you  coming  in  again  ?  " 

"  Don't  know," she  smiled.  "Depends 
if  I  can  think  of  an  excuse." 

"  Eight,"  I  said.    "  In  that  case — 

There  was  nothing  else  for  it ;  I  took 
up  my  pen  and  began  to  work. 

But  I  have  a  suggestion  to  make  to 
Celia.  At  present,  although  Jumbo  is 
really  mine,  she  is  having  all  the  fun 
with  him.  And  as  long  as  Jumbo  is 
on  the  outside  of  the  door  there  can 
never  rise  an  occasion  when  I  should 
want  to  use  him.  My  idea  is  that  I 
should  unscrew  Jumbo  and  put  him  on 
jhe  inside  of  the  door,  so  that  I  can 
{nock  when  I  come  out. 

And  when  Celia  wants  to  come  in 
she  will  warn  me  in  the  old-fashioned 
way  with  her  knuckles  .  .  .  and  I 
shall  have  time  to  do  something 
about  it.  A.  A.  M. 


'  The  members  of  the  various  committees 
ippointcd  yesterday  to  administer  the  affairs 
of  the  North  of  Ireland  in  the  event  of  Homo 
iule  coming  into  operation,  found  on  arrival 
n  the  hall  that  most  business-like  arrange- 
ments had  been  made  for  their  accommodation. 
To  each  of  these  committees  had  been  allotted 
a  separate  table,  with  writing  materials  and 
,11  facilities  for  preliminary  work." 

Liverpool  Courier. 

surely  this  will  bring  Mr.  ASQUITH  to 
lis  senses. 


OcroBF.n  8, 


PUNCH,   Oil   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


307 


THE    COMMERCIAL    DOUBLE-LIFERS. 

["Curious  stories  come  to  light  occasionally  of  men  who  arc  'something  in  the  City,'  but  who  conccil  from  their  wives  and 
families  the  true  nature  of  their  humble  occupations." — Daily  l'«i 


WHO  WOULD   IMAGINE   THAT  THIS    APPARENTLY    DE- 
CKEPIT   SPECIMEN  OF  THE   SUBMERGED  TENTH 


COULD    BE    NO    OTIIEB    THAN    MB.    ,    THE    MOST    FAMOUS    AMATEUH 

ON    THE    LUBBITON    LlNKS,    WHOSE    WKEK-END    PERFORMANCES    DRAW 
CROWDS  FROM  THE   BKMOTEST  SUBURBS? 


MR.  — — ,  OP  STREATUAM,  HAD  AN  ANXIOUS  MOMENT  SOME 
DAYS  AOD  AT  HIS  PLACE  OP  BUSINESS. 


A  OEXTLEMA5T  OP  EAST  SHEEN  FINDS  SOME  DIFFICULT? 
IN  PREVENTING  HIS  FAMILY  FBOM  KNOWING  THAT  HE  ACTS 
AS  A  POSTER  AT  BILLINGSGATE. 


'  r 


A  SECRET  CHIMNKY-SWEEP,  WHO 
LIVES  AT  KAYNES  PAHK,  LEAVING 
1IIS  IIOME  AT  DAYBItEAK. 


THE  WIFE  AND  DAUGHTER  OF  MR. ,  OP 

GOLDER'S  GREEN,  KNOW  NOTHING  OF  HIS 
KMPLOYMEKT  BUI  THAT  HE  GOES  TO  THE 
ClTX  DAILY  TO  ATTEND  BOARD  MEETINGS — 


AND,    IN   A   SENSE,   THIS   IS  TRUE. 


303 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  8,  1913. 


INVADERS    OF    DEBRETT. 

SCENE — The  drau-iny-room  at  Ifcrcia  Castle,  wliere  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Mcrcla  liave  a  large  family  party  for  the  shooting. 

TIME — After  dinner. 

The  Ducliess  (to  her  daughter).  "How  ARE  WE  com'  TO  AMUSE  OURSELVES  TO-NIGHT,  DEAREST?" 

Lady  Edelfleda.  "  WHAT  D'YOU  SAT  TO  A  PERFORMANCE  OP  THE  GIRL  FROM  NOWHERE,  MAMMA?    YOU'VE  NEVFR  BEE^  IT, 
YOU  KNOW,  AND  "— (uilh  a  glance  round  at  her  numerous  and  beauteous  sisters-in-law) — "WE'VE  THE  LEADING  LADY  HERE — ASD  HALF 

THE    CHORUS !  " 


IT'S   THOROUGH   AS   DOES   IT. 

AN  American  cablegram  states  that 
a  wealthy  citizen  of  Auburn,  N.Y.,  has 
just  entered  the  State  penitentiary. 
"He  has  taken  this  method  of  becoming 
a  convict  in  order  to  learn  from  actual 
experience  just  what  goes  on  inside  the 
penitentiary,  and  will  afterwards  use 
his  experiences  in  his  prosecution  of 
reforms.  In  order  to  do  the  thing  quite 
regularly  he  was  committed  by  a  judge 
who  is  an  intimate  friend  of  his.  He 
will  remain  thirty  days  in  the  prison, 
and  on  his  entrance  to-day  he  was 
shaved  and  served  out  with  the  striped 
costume  of  a  convict.  During  his 
sojourn  he  will  fare  precisely  as  the 
other  prisoners  do." 

A  convict  in  the  same  prison,  on 
hearing  of  this  experiment,  expressed 
his  desire  to  test  for  a  few  weeks  the 
social  and  economic  conditions  of  the 
life  of  a  wealthy  Auburn  citizen ;  but 
so  far  he  has  been  unable  to  begin. 


None  the  less  his  wish  indicates  how 
keen  the  American  empirical  mind  can 
be. 

Fired  by  the  example,  many  of  our 
own  public  men  have  been  investigating 
up  to  the  hilt.  Sir  HERBERT  BEER- 
BOHM  TREE,  we  learn,  wishing  to  know 
exactly  what  were  the  feelings  and 
aspirations  of  a  limelight  man,  himself 
took  a  turn  in  the  flies.  The  first  time, 
by  some  curious  chance,  he  seems  to 
have  held  the  lantern  in  such  a  way 
that  all  the  rays  fell  on  his  own  person  ; 
but,  after  some  practice,  he  succeeded  in 
occasionally  illuminating  part  at  least 
of  the  stage.  Sir  HERBERT,  however, 
in  spite  of  this  progress  is  disposed  to 
continue  as  actor-manager. 

With  extraordinary  self-abnegation 
one  of  our  most  widely-read  novelists, 
whose  books  do  not  exactly  steal  on 
tip-toe  and  with  finger  on  lip  into  the 
light  of  day,  has  been  endeavouring  to 
discover  what  it  feels  like  to  be  both 
modest  and  unknown.  He  was  dis- 


covered the  other  day  by  his  publisher 
in  the  habit  of  a  Carthusian  monk 
committing  to  memory  the  poem  which 
begins — • 

Down  in  a  sweet  and  shady  bed 
A  modest  violet  grew. 

The  publisher,  in  his  astonishment, 
could  only  exclaim,  "  What  is  this  that 
thou  art  giving  us?  " 

The  rumour  that  Mr.  EOCKEFELLKU 
|  was  found  recently  in  a  workhouse 
'disguised  as  a  very  hairy  old  pauper 
1  still  requires  confirmation ;  but  we 
1  should  not  be  surprised. 


Our  Stylists. 

"Drawing  the  Miller's    plantation,    they 

found  a  litter  of  cubs,   dusting  them  well 

about,  but  did  not  kill.     They  next  moved  on 

the  Dean,  and  found  a  good  show,  rattling 

them  well  about.     One  cub  broke  at  the  top 

'  end,  and  made  for  Timprim,  which  they  killed 

I  in  a  small  plantation,  from  which  another  fox 

I  came  out,  they  hunted  him,  which  went  into 

I  a  fielil  of  standing  corn.     The  hounds  beni;.; 

c.illed  off,  then  went  home."- — Scotsman. 


8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


311 


MR.   CARRUTHERS. 

PICKING  up  a  paper  a  fortnight  or  so 

ago  I  read  this  :  "  Never  find  fault  with 
or  criticise  your  husband  directly.  If 
you  dislike  his  ways,  criticise  the  same 
thing  in  another  person,  and  your  hus- 
band will  he  likely  to  take  the  hint." 

Let  me  say  at  onco  that  this  is  not 
true.  He  is  unlikely  to  take  the  hint, 
as  I  can  prove.  Nor  is  it  wise  counsel 
either.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  fraught 
wit'n  danger,  and  my  advice  to  all  wives 
is  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  hut, 
when  they  have  fault  to  find,  to  find  it 
in  the  good  old-fashioned  style — right 
out. 

Listen. 

For  the  moment  I  was  taken  with 
the  idea,  and  decided  to  try  it.  Henry 
(my  husband)  has  not  a  few  vexatious 
ways  that  get  on  my  nerves,  one  of 
which  is  rising  from  the  table  directly 
he  has  finished  his  meal,  no  matter  at 
what  stage  I,  who  am  a  slower  eater, 
happen  to  be.  Having  previously  said 
nothing  about  this  I  chose  it  as  my 
opening  experiment. 

"  I  lunched  with  Mrs.  Carruthers 
to-day,"  I  said  casually  at  dinner. 

"Did  you?"  Henry  replied.  "Is  it 
a  nice  house  ?  " 

"  Quite,"  I  said. 

"And  what  is  Carruthers  like?"  he 
asked.  (I  may  say  that  Mrs.  Carruthers 
is  a  new  acquaintance.) 

Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Car- 
ruthers was  not  there  at  all;  but 
obviously  this  kind  of  corrective  treat- 
ment demands  inventive  power  in  the 
corrector  or  it  cannot  go  on ;  for  how 
is  one  actually  to  find  men  with  all 
one's  husband's  bad  habits  ? 

"Ob,"  I  said,  as  non-committally  as 
possible,  "the  ordinary  kind  of  man. 
But  he  lias  one  detestable  mannerism." 

"  Only  one?"  Henry  answered  easily. 

"  One  very  noticeable  one  to-day,"  I 
replied.  "  He  got  up  and  left  the  table 
directly  he  had  finished." 

"  While  you  were  still  eating?  "  Henry 
asked  with  interest. 

"  Yes." 

"  The  low  swine  !  "  said  Henry  ;  and, 
even  as  he  said  it,  he  threw  down  his 
napkin  and  sauntered  off,  although  I 
had  hut  just  begun  a  pear. 

What  was  I  to  do?  In  the  ordinary 
way  I  should  have  drawn  attention  to 
his  own  inconsistency,  but  the  paper 
so  particularly  said  that  direct  means 
were  to  be  avoided ;  and  I  therefore 
sat  on  dumb  and  enraged. 

A  day  or  so  later  I  tried  again,  and 
again  I  employed  Mr.  Carruthers  as 
my  terrible  example. 

Henry  has  a  very  annoying — more 
than  annoying,  exasperating — way  of 
stealing  my  tunes.  After  a  visit  to  the 


MORE    TELEPHONE    TROUBLES. 

"WHAT!    YE  CAN'T  HEAR  WHAT  I'M  SAYIN'?    WELL  THIS,  REPEAT  WHAT  YE  DIDN'T 
HEAR  AN'  I  'LL  TELL  IT  YE  AGAIN." 


theatre  or  a  rcvuc  I  naturally  find  cer- 
tain memories  of  the  music  in  my  head, 
and  it  amuses  me  to  hum  them  over. 
This  I  can  do  accurately.  Now  what- 
ever Henry  may  be  doing  when  I  begin, 
even  perhaps  humming  something  him- 
self, he  at  once  takes  up  my  tune ;  and 
what  fun  is  there  in  continuing  with  it 
then? 

Very  well.  I  decided  to  make  a 
second  attempt  to  cure  him  in  the 
newspaper's  way,  and  to  attack  this 
humming  tendency. 

Mrs.  Carruthers  had  been  to  tea,  and 
I  mentioned  this  to  Henry. 

"  I  suppose  you  dissected  your 
wretched  husbands?"  he  said. 

"  She  certainly  talked  a  little  about 
hers,"  I  replied,  with  a  terrible  glibness 
that  nearly  frightened  me.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  she  had  not  mentioned  him. 

"Complained,  I  suppose?"  said 
Henry. 

"  Oh  no,  she 's  too  loyal  for  that,"  I 


replied.  "But  she  said  that  there  is 
one  thing  he  does — harmless  enough, 
no  doubt,  but  irritating  beyond  words : 
no  sooner  does  she  begin  to  hum  a  tune 
than  he  hums  it  too,  although  he  has 
no  ear." 

Henry  whistled.  "  He  does  that, 
does  he  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Then  I  quite 
agree  with  his  wife.  That  sort  of  thing 
would  make  me  just  rabid.  One's  own 
humming  is  sacred.  By  jingo,  yes. 
This  Carruthers  seems  to  be  no  end  of 
a  blighter,"  he  added. 

Again  I  was  foiled,  and  I  determined 

to  have  no  more  to  do  with  the  scheme, 

but  in  future  to  make  any  effort  towards 

;  correction    openly    and    honestly    and 

I  forcibly.      And  no  doubt  I  should  be 

;  doing  so  but   for  an  occurrence  only 

this  afternoon. 

Henry,  very  unlike  his  custom,  came 
in  to  tea,  and  a  Mrs.  "Vyse  was  there,  a 
new  neighbour  returning  my  call. 

We  talked  the  usual  small  talk,  and 


312 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CIIATJVARI. 


[OCTOBER  8,  1913. 


she  was  just  going  when  she  remarked, 
"  You  know  my  friend  Mrs.  Carruthers, 
I  think?" 

I  said  that  I  had  recently  made  her 
acquaintance. 

"  You  '11  love  her,"  said  Mrs.  Yyse. 
"  Sucli  a  dear!  And  such  a  sad  life! 
But  she  never  mentions  it — never  com 

plains." 

I  hegan  to  feel  vaguely  alarmed. 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Yyse  repeated,  "  you  '1 
love  her." 

"But  not  her  husband,"  Henry  re 
plied,  with  a  laugh.  "  We  shall  never 
love  Itim — not  with  that  deadly  way  ho 
has  of  leaving  the  table  directly  he  lias 
finished  gobbling  his  food  and  all  his 
other  little  tricks.  Oh  no,  not  Car- 
ruthers !  " 

Mrs.  Yyse  looked  suddenly  both  grave 
and  perplexed.  "You  needn't  worry," 
she  said  at  last.  "  You  are  not  likely 
to  meet  Mr.  Carruthers.  Mr.  Carruthers 
has  been  separated  from  his  wife  for 
two  years." 

***** 

And  now  what  chance  have  I  to  take 

any  line  at   all   about    anything    my 

husband  does? 


And  what  a,  flair  they  have  for  items   reveals  extraordinary  enterprise  on  the 


WASTED  TALENT. 

WE  dwellers  in  a  provincial  town 
like  Brookmouth  find  much  to  excite 
our  wonder  in  the  enterprise  of  the 
London  halfpenny  papers.  Every 
morning  we  are  confronted  with  fresh 
evidence  of  it ;  every  morning  we  are, 
so  to  speak,  invited  to  take  off  our  hats 
to  The  Megaphone,  The  Daily  Snap, 
The  Watchman,  The  Morning  Spout, 
The  Boarer  and  The  Wireless.  Only 
The  Trumpeter  lags  behind  in  the  com- 
petition for  our  respectful  admiration. 

It  is  all  very  nattering  to  Brook- 
mouth.  Great  events  are  taking  place 
in  the  busy  world  without.  Day  by 
day  the  problem  of  the  Home  Eule 
Bill  grows  more  insistent  and  more 
serious;  airmen  fly  on  their  heads; 
desperate  battles  are  fought  out  on  the 
football  pitch ;  the  investments  of  the 
Liberal  Party  Funds  are  fiercely  dis- 
cussed; new  books  are  published  and 
banned ;  new  plays  are  produced  and 
withdrawn  ;  there  are  earthquakes,  fires 
and  fights  in  foreign  parts.  Yet  yester- 
day The  Megaphone  announced  on  its 
placard,  "  Summer  returns  to  Brook- 
mouth  "  ;  The  Daily  Snap  said,  "  Great 
Heat  in  Brookmouth  ";  The  Watchman, 
"Brookmoutl  Revels  in  the  Sun"; 
The  Mornlmj  ^  uitt,  "  The  Brookmouth 
Thermometer 
"  Autumn 


of  local  interest !  Some  time  ago  ther 
appeared  in  one  of  our  Church  maga 
/ines  a  jocoso  remark  by  the  gcnia 
vicar  of  St.  Aloysius  with  regard  t 
the  consumption  of  buns  at  Sunday 
school  treats.  "The  Ban  on  the  Bun,' 
announced  The  Megaphone  next  day 


HISTORY  IN  THE  MAKING. 
THE  CNCHIVALROUS  SIB  ALMBOTH  DENT- 
NO  HIS  IDENTITY  TO  FAIB  CALLEK  AT  FIRE- 
EOOP  RETREAT,  WHERE  HE  IS  BESTING 
FTER  NERVOUS  STRAIN  OF  WRITING  THE 
'NEXPURGATED  CASE  AGAINST  FEMALE  SVF- 
'RAQE. 


Soars " ;     The    Hoarer, 
or    Summer 


in  Brook- 
mouth  ?  "  ;  The  Wireless,  "  Sol  favours 
Brookmouth."  The  Trumpeter  merely 
said,  "  Home  Eule  Conference  Develop- 


ment. 


'  Buns  in  Peril  at  Brookmouth,"  cried 
The  Daily  Snap.  "  The  Bun-bursting 
Vicar,"  exclaimed  The  Watchman.  "  To 
Bun  or  not  to  Bun  ? "  asked  The 
Morning  Spout.  "A  Hot  and  Cross 
Bun  Outburst,"  facetiously  said  The 
Boarer.  "Vicar's  Maxim  at  Brook- 
mouth,"  still  more  facetiously  said  The 
Wireless.  "Renewed  Fighting  in  the 
Balkans,"  said  The  Trumpeter. 

And  1  could  multiply  examples  in- 
definitely. As  I  have  remarked,  it  is 
ve"y  flattering  to  Brookmouth  and  it  |  George  ill"" 


part  of  The  Megaphone,  The  Daily  Snap 
The  Watchman,  The  Morning  Spout, 
The  Boarer,  and  The  Wireless.  All  the 
same,  it  is  a  little  curious  that  these 
clever  young  sub-editors,  or  whoever 
they  are,  do  not  realise  that  we  should 
never  dream  of  buying  a  London  daily 
paper  in  order  to  read  about  Brook- 
mouth.  We  can  do  that  quite  well  in 
our  local  journals. 

That  is  why  I,  for  one,  always  take 
in  The  Trumpeter. 

THE  PLAINT  OF  PEECY 
ILLING  WORTH,    ESQ.,    M.P. 
IN  a  moment  of  expansion 
I  engaged  a  ducal  mansion 

On  a  most  romantic  island  on  the 

Clyde, 

Where,  remote  from  work  and  worry, 
And  the  aftermath  of  MURRAY, 
I  intsnded  in  seclusion  to  reside. 

But  the  attitude  of  Ulster 
And  the  leaders  who  've  convulsed  her 
With  incentives  to  the  wickedest  of 

crimes, 

Has  dispelled  the  blissful  vision 
Of  a  holiday  Elysian, 

And  prompted  LOREBURN'S  lettsr  to 
The  Times. 

No  more  the  strains  melodic 

Of  the  pipes  are  heard  at  Brodick ; 

No  more  I  taste  the  pleasures  of  the 

chase ; 

But  in  sequence  swift  and  sinister 
"lorries  Minister  on  Minister 

To  mar  the  ancient  magic  of  the  place. 

[t 's  nuts  for  the  snapshotters, 
And  the  journalistic  jotters 

Who  desecrate  the  glories  of  Goatfell, 
And  it 's  worth  a  small  Bonanza 
To  the  natives  of  Loch  Ranza 
And  the  people  who  the  picture  post- 
cards sell. 

3ut  JOHN  REDMOND  down  in  Kerry 
ilas  been  anything  but  merry, 
And  his  prophecies  are  very  far  from 

smooth  ; 
And  the  culpable  omission 
from  our  Island  coalition 
Of  LABKIN  stirs  the  ire  of  HANDEL 
BOOTH. 

n  the  Session  I  am  reely 

lather  fond  of  GEORGE  and  SEKLT 

And  the  merits  if  young  WINSTON 

can  applaud ; 

But  to  have  them  here,  all  talking 
tVhen  I  want  to  go  out  stalking, 

Turns  my  holiday  into  an  Arrant  fraud. 


Mixed  Farming. 

About  1803,  an  Officer  named  Macarthur 
tarted    wheat-growing    in    Camdeu  with    a 
couple  of  Spanish  Merino  sheep  given  him  by 


OCTOBER  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


313 


Mother  (to  Maid,  wJio  IMS  fallen  over  mat) .  "  BUT  HOW  DID  you  MANAGE  IT,  DARI.IXG?" 

Mabel.    "  I — I — C-COMED   IN   BEFORE   I   C-COSIED." 


THE  HISTKION. 

QBSEBVE,  from  Jasper  Jones'  ascent 
To  Fame,  how  art  may  circumvent 
A  natural  impediment. 

Designed  in  Nature's  finest  mould, 
With  oyes  of  hlue  and  hair  of  gold, 
With  smile  at  once  refined  and  bold, 

A  figure  of  compelling  height, 
A  size  of  waist  exactly  right, 
He  was  a  most  attractive  sight, 

And  built  to  act  the  leading  part, 
The  central  Earl,  the  lime-lit  Bart., 
Who  wins  or  breaks  tho  Prima's  heart. 

But  mark  the  flaw  :  his  twang  was  such 
As  irked  his  hearers  very  much, 
Having  the  strongest  Cockney  touch. 

In  every  line  he  had  to  say 
His  h's  always  wrent  astray 
And  gave  his  origin  away. 

It  makes  me  shiver  even  now 
When  I,  who  know,  remember  how 
He  spoke  that  dreadful  diphthong 
"-ow." 

But  yet  he  got  there  all  tho  same, 
So  that  the  Stage's  scroll  of  fame 
To-day  is  headed  with  his  name. 


And  once  a  month,  but  never  less, 
His  portraits  fill  the  picture  press, 
In  every  pose,  in  every  dress. 

And  high-born  flappers,  taught  to  ban 
The  coarse  or  vulgar,  think  him  an 
Ideal  English  gentleman  ; 

Nay,  murmur  passionately,  "  Ah  !  " 
When,  taken  by  a  kind  papa, 
They  see  him  act  ....  in  cinema. 

E.S.V.P. 

THERE  can  bo  little  doubt  that  in- 
struction in  English  literature  could  be 
made  more  interesting  if  presented  in 
some   fresh   form,   and    the    following 
j  examination  paper  is  put  forward  as 
i  an    attempt    to    direct    the   minds   of 
examinees  into  new  channels : — - 

QUESTION  I. 

"  Old  Caspar's  work  was  done." 
"What  was  old  Caspar's  work?     Is 
there  any  reason  other  than  the  state- 
ment that  it  was  done,  for  suggesting 
that  it  was  not  that  of  a  Panel  Doctor? 

QUESTION  II. 

"  Tears,  idle  tears." 
Why  were  they  unemployed  ?     Sug- 
gest schemes  for  utilising  their  labour. 


QUESTION  III. 

"  I  must  learn  Spanish  one  of  these 
days." 

What  particular  Conversation  Course 
had  the  speaker  in  mind  when  making 
this  resolve  ? 

QUESTION  IV. 

"  This  is  the  place.     Stand  still,  my 
steed." 
Did  it  ? 

QUESTION  V. 

"  Oh,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilder- 
ness ! " 

By  means  of  what  newspaper  Apart- 
ment List  was  the  writer  ultimately 
suited  ? 

QUESTION  "VI. 

"  Survey  mankind  from,  Cliina  to 
Peru." 

Was  this  instruction  addressed  to  a 
properly  qualified  member  of  the  Insti- 
tute of  Surveyors  ?  If  not,  why  not  ? 

"  An  article  in  the  Engineering  Supplement 

examines  the  possibility  of  using  existing  tcle- 

I  phone  lines  for  telephonic  purposes. " — Times. 

It  is  hoped  that  telephone  subscribers 
1  will  not  be  unduly  elated  by  this  possi- 
jbility.  The  thing  will  probably  (all 
|  through  in  the  end. 


PUNCH,    Oil    T1IK   LONDON'    CIIAIM VAKI. 


[OCTOBER  8,  1913. 


LAST  WORDS   ON  THE 
CLOTHING  CONTROVERSY. 

(An  irresponsible  protest.} 
WHEN  ADAH'S  wife  was  first  advised 

To  study  fashion,  I  should  say 
Her  modest  wardrobe  advertised 
That  vanity  had  come  to  stay  ; 
And  vainer  generations  wore, 
As  time  went  on,  a  little  inoiv. 

(To  overclothe  the  human  form 
Makes  men  of  morals  rage  and  storm.) 

But  now,  when  modern  Eve  aspires 
To  alter  this,  and  just  to  wear 

The  minimum  our  clime  requires, 
It  seems,  to  say  the  least,  unfair 

That  virtue's  guardians  should  unite 

In  blaming  her  for  doing  right. 

Such  steps  towards  a  simpler  state 
No  moralist  should  deprecate. 

Not  such  am  I.  But  I  protest 
The  world  is  brighter  since  the  Fall, 

And  life  would  lose  an  interest 
If  people  wore  no  clothes  at  all, 

But  stalked  about  with  nothing  on— 

Their  most  delightful  foible  gone. 

How  very  dull  to  have  a  reign 
Of  perfect  innocence  again ! 

PRACTICAL    HINTS    ON    GOLF. 

(With   full    acknoicledyments    to    our 

illuminating  contemporaries.) 

I. — THE  ABT  OF  LONG  DRIVING. 

THERE  is  no  doubt  that  the  player 
who  can  drive  a  long  ball  from  the  tee 
gets  further  than  his  less  fortunate 
confrere  who  is  a  short  driver.  Much 
has  been,  and  will  be,  written  on  the 
art  of  long  driving.  How  is  this 
desideratum  of  all  followers  of  the 
Royal  and  Ancient  Game  to  be  attained  ? 
That  is  what  I  am  about  to  tall  you. 

Some  men  when  going  all  out  for  a 
long  one  from  the  tee  play  their  ball 
with  a  little  pull  on  it ;  others  merely 
drive  a  straight  ball  down  the  middle 
of  the  course.  Anyway,  as  I  have  said, 
the  player  who  hits  a  long  ball  gets 
further  than  the  one  who  hits  a  short 
ball,  and  consequently  he  needs  a 
shorter  shot  to  reach  the  green  with 
his  second. 

Speaking  of  reaching  the  green 
reminds  me  of  two  of  the  most  remark- 
able shots  I  ever  witnessed.  I  was 
playing  for  the  Championship  of  Texas, 
U.S.A.,  in  19 — .  My  partner  was 
Mr.  "  Slick "  Samson,  the  celebrated 
professional  amateur.  At  the  14th  he 
pulled  his  drive  into  the  rough.  When 
we  came  up  to  the  ball  it  was  neatly 
cupped  in  a  lark's  nest  which  contained 
four  eggs.  Now  I  am  betraying  no 
secret  when  I  say  that,  on  the  three 


previous  greens,  Samson  had  been  put 
oft'  by  the  incessant  singing  of  a  sky- 
lark,"and  had  missed  holing  three  25  feet 
putts  in  succession  :  a  most  unusual 
thing  for  him.  1  therefore  expected  to 
see  him  take  his  revenge  by  lifting  nest, 
eggs,  and  ball  all  on  to  the  green 
together  with  his  niblick.  But  1  was 
disappointed.  Instead,  lie  took  his 
mashio  and  played  tho  hall  with  such 
nicety  that  it  landed  dead  within  2  feet 
of  the  pin,  and  the  eggs  remained  in 
tho  nest  unbroken  ;  not  even  cracked. 

Strange  to  say,  the  other  remarkable 
shot  was  made  by  the  same  player  on 
tho  same  course.  Tho  game  was  all 
square  at  the  17th.  We  both  had  good 
drives  at  the  18th  ;  but  Samson  had 
the  misfortune  to  iirid  a  rabbit-hole,  his 
ball  lying,  about  8£  inches  inside  the 
front  entrance.  Here  was  a  quandary  : 
It  was  tho  only  rabbit-hole  on  the 
course,  and  had  been  constructed  sub- 
sequent to  the  drafting  of  the  local 
rules,  so  that  no  provision  was  made 
for  this  contingency.  If  he  picked  up, 
it  meant  losing  the  match.  He  walked 
forward,  towards  the  green,  with  a 
worried  look  on  his  face.  Then,  return- 
ing, he  took  his  niblick  and  hit  with 
tremendous  force.  The  hall  disappeared 
down  the  rabbit-hole.  Imagine,  if  you 
can, our  undisguised  amazement  when  it 
bolted  out  of  Brer  Rabbit's  back-door, 
about  5  yards  from  the  green,  and  came 
to  rest  within  2  feet  of  the  pin.  (If  I 
recorded  the  exact  distance — 6  inches 
— many  golfers  might  bo  tempted  to 
doubt  my  voracity.)  Needless  to  say, 
I  lost  the  hole  and  the  match. 

But  I  am  digressing.  I  merely 
mention  these  two  shots  because  I  am 
trying  to  get  a  good  length  with  my 
article,  which  reminds  me  that  "  The 
art  of  long  driving"  is  the  subject 
under  discussion.  Well,  I  hope  that, 
after  a  careful  perusal  of  these  few 
practical  hints,  you  will  find  that  you 
are  consistently  getting  a  longer  ball 
from  the  tee  than  you  did  formerly. 
If  you  succeed  in  doing  this  you  will 
experience  a  feeling  of  true  satisfaction. 

Next  week  1  hope  to  publish  [in 
another  journal. — ED.]  a  few  hints  on 
"  The  art  of  approaching." 


"  Promoters  of  all  kinds  of  public  meetings 
and  entertainments,  should  assimilate  tho 
lesson  contained  in  the  appended  extract  from 
an  appre;iative  latter  addressed  to  the  Editor 
of  this  Journal.  The  writer,  a  consistent  and 
persistent  advertiser,  evidently  knows  a  good 
thing  when  found,  and,  quite  unsolicited  by 
us,  lias  written  as  follows  : — 

1 1  write  because  I  find  that  a  good 
make  a  difference  to  the  s:/o  of  the 
notice  in  your  excellent  paper  DOES 
audience.  '  " — Enfield  Gazelle. 

Another  time  he  should  be  asked  not 
to  write. 


THE    COMMON    ROUND. 

JOHN  looked  important  and  mys- 
terious. "Tho  fact  is,"'  he  announced, 
••  Eva  and  I  are  going  to  get  married." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  I,  "  so  that  is  why  you 
got  engaged,  is  it '.'  " 

"  Yes.  Three  weeks  to-morrow.  Wa 
shall  want  a  parson,  a  bridesmaid  or 
two  and  a  best  man.  There  is  work 
for  all.  Will  you  help?" 

"  What  will  it  cost  me  ?  "  I  asked. 
"  You  know,  you  have  omitted  to  men- 
tion the  -other  things  you  want  and,  I 
have  no  doubt,  mean  to  have.  Look 
here — will  you  take  five  shillings  in 
cash  and  tho  rest  by  monthly  instal- 
ments'?" 

John  protested  that  lie  would  bo 
j  quite  content  with  my  mere  blessing, 
I  so  fine  a  fellow  was  I  (as  I  am). 

"  Good,"  I  said.  "  But  then  there  is 
I  always  Eva's  point  of  view.  Hadn't 
we  better  get  straight  to  business? 
What  about  a  sugar-sifter?  " 

"  It 's  awfully  kind  of  you,  old  boy, 
and  there  is  nothing  we  should  havo 
liked  better.  But  Eva  and  I  intend  to 
live  quite  simply,  and  we  feel  that  tho 
six  sugar-sifters  we  havo  already  re- 
ceived will  see  us  through." 

"  Has  anybody  suggested  giving  you 
the  wedding-ring?  You'll  probably 
find  you  want  one  when  you  get 
to  the  church  ...  Or  what  about 
half-a-dozen  novels,  with  PKKSKNTA- 
TIOX  COPY  neatly  stamped  on  the 
inside  cover?  " 

"  Wouldn't  the  publishers  be  hurt  if 
they  found  out  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Give  us 
any  old  thing,  if  you  insist.  We  don't 
mind  -what." 

"I  simply  don't  believe  you,"  I  said. 
"I  am  quite  certain  that  you  have  put 
your  two  heads  together  and  made  out 
a  list.  Produce  it." 

He  produced  it  and  began  to  read 
aloud.  "  We  shall  want  a  house  and 
some  furniture  to  put  inside  it.  Cheque! 
will  bo  accepted  in  payment  or  part- 
payment.  Tantali  are  strictly  prohibited, 
but  we  are  open  to  salvers,  cutlery, 
entree  dishes  .  .  ." 

"  Start  at  the  other  end,"  I  suggested. 

"  Ash-tray,  blotting-pad,  Bradsham 
cover,  ink-pot  ..." 

"Times  aro  bid,  hut  not  quite  so 
bad  as  all  that.  Try  the  middle." 

"  Breakfast-service,  tea-service,  din- 
ner-service." 

"  Don't  you  intend  taking  lunch  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Apparently  not,  but  we  make  up 
with  an  extra  dinner-service,  called  the 
dessert-service.  The  nut-crackers,  nut- 
pickers,  nut-scrapers  have  already  been 
supplied." 

"Then,"  I  declared,  "I  will  give 
you  the  nuts." 


OCTOBER  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


315 


"  Or,"  said  John,  "  what  about  the 
Jubileo  port  ?  " 

*          «          *          *  * 

Tho  function  was  a  complete  success, 
and  I  filled  my  part  to  tho  last  item. 
I  can  never  bo  too  grateful  to  Eva 
for  choosing  so  charming  a  Chief 
Bridesmaid  as  Gladys,  for  I  tako  it 
that,  whatever  sho  had  been  like,  it 
was  my  duty  (as  Best  Man)  to  fall  in 
love  with  her.  I  opened  tho  subject 
by  complimenting  her  on  her  choice 
of  a  First-Tliing-in-the-Morning  Tea- 
service,  which  I  considered  much 
superior  to  the  other  three  samples  of 
the  s:ime  convenience  appearing  among 
tho  numerous  and  costly  presents. 

"  Let 's  go  and  look  for  yours,"  she 
said,  but  1  felt  that  what  I  had  to  say 
could  best  be  said  in  a  more  private 
corner. 

"  Probably  they  couldn't  hold  back 
and  drank  it  last  night,"  I  said,  as  I 
led  her  apart.  .  .  .  The  result  of  our 
conversation  was  such  that  I  foresaw 
that  a  schedule  of  our  own  would  be- 
come necessary  at  a  later  stage.  So  I 
felt  I  could  not  do  better  than  make  a 
list  of  the  presents  that  John  and  Eva 
had  received. 

*•          #          *          *  * 

When  John  had  recovered  from  his 
wedding,  I  thought  that  it  was  high 
time  to  be  getting  on  with  my  own. 
So  I  called  upon  him. 

"I  have  here,"  I  said,  "a  list  .  .  ." 

"  Splendid,"  ho  answered,  with  a 
great  show  of  enthusiasm.  "  If  you 
will  forgive  an  experienced  man  ad- 
vising you,  1  may  say  that  the  whole 
question  of  conjugal  happiness  depends 
entirely  upon  what  you  drink  and 
when.  Have  you,  for  instance,  a  First- 
Thing-in-the-Morning  Tea-service  on 
your  list?" 

"  Wo  have,"  said  I. 

John  was  inclined  to  be  jubilant,  but 
Eva,  who  was  standing  by  and  has  a 
better  memory  for  detail,  checked  him. 
"  We  have  never  ceased  to  be  grateful 
for  Gladys's  delightful  gift,"  said  she. 
"I  don't  know  what  we  should  do 
without  it." 

I  think  that  perhaps  John  did  know, 
hut  he  had  learnt  wisdom  in  this  short 
time  and  said  nothing. 

"  Have  you  a  sugar-sifter  on  the 
list  ?  "  asked  Eva,  tentatively. 

"Six,"  said  I.  "But  perhaps  1 
ought  to  tell  you  that  it  is  in  some 
ways  a  peculiar  list  and  contains  only 
the  things  we  can  do  without." 

"Does  it  even  include,"  asked  Eva 
in  desperation,  "the  handsome  marble 
timepiece  John's  Uncle  Frank  gave 
us?" 

"Underlined  in  red  ink,"  I  stated, 
"  and  marked  with  an  asterisk  by  way 
of  special  caution." 


THE    ART    OF    SELF-DEFENCE. 


OLD  SIILB. 


NEW  STYLE:    INSPIRED  BY  AMERICA:?  TAILORING. 


John  tumbled  to  it  at  last.  "It| 
looks  to  me,"  he  said,  "  as  if  we  shall  i 
have  to  buy  you  .something." 

I  deprecated  this  extreme  measure.  | 
"No,    no.      Our    list   doesn't   include 
everything  you  had  given  you." 

Eva  brightened  visibly.     I  think  she 
had  the  foolish  hope  of  getting  rid  of 
the     antimacassars     of    the     faithful  i 
retainer. 

"  We  haven't  included  the  cheques,"  > 
I  explained.     "  If  you  're  pressed  for : 
room,  we  could  take  over  a  couple  or 
so  of  those." 

From  a  list  of  wedding  presents  in 
The  Oxford  Chronicle  :— 

"  Mr.  and  Sirs.  Ashbce,  '  Pronxctheus  '  (un- 
bound)." 

How  mean ! 


"  Dorothy  Forster's  New  Song :  DEAREST,  I 

BRING   THEE  DAFFODILS   (in  the  prCSS.)" 

Advt. 

Pressed  flowers  are  all  very  well,  but 
we  fancy  Dearest  would  prefer  them 
fresh. 

"  Always  use  raiii-watcr  for  the  face  if  you 
want  ta  keep  your  complexion.  If  you  live  in 
a  town,  strain  the  rain-water  through  the  leg 
of  an  old  stocking.  This  removes  the  black." 

Home  Chat. 
From  the  stocking. 


Directions  for  use  of 's  Tonic 

Lotion : — - 

"  Unscrew  the  cap  on  top,  and  apply  to  the 
roots  of  tho  Hair,  and  then  well  brush." 

We  always  brash  our  cap  before  putting 
it  on  the  hair. 


316 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBEE  8,   1913. 


THE    SORCERESS. 

THERE  are  two  outside  doors  to  our 
offices,  one  to  the  waiting-room  for  our 
clients,  and  the  other  to  our  sanctum 
(marked  "  PIUVATE  ")  to  let  my  partner 
or  myself  out  by  when  the  typist 
announces  the  arrival  of  a  tradesman's 
emissary  on  a  matter  of  an  "  Account 
rendered." 

On  Tuesday  last  my  partner  and  I 
were  earnestly  discussing  the  latest 
phases  of  the  Insurance  Act  when  there 
occurred  a  gentle  tapping  at  the  door 
marked  "  PRIVATE."  My  partner  went 
deathly  pale,  but  having  paid  my  tailor 
the  previous  week  and  sent  a  post-dated 
cheque  to  the  Gas  Company,  I  rose 
with  an  easy  grace,  opened  the  door 
and  closed  it  behind  me.  I  found  my- 
self in  the  passage — I  usuaUy  do  on 
these  occasions,  so  was  not  particularly 
surprised  at  the  scenery — and  facing 
a  charming  girl  of  about  twenty-two, 
as  near  as  I  could  judge.  She  smiled 
sweetly ; ,  I  bowed.  In  her  hand  was 
one  of  those  small  yellow  leather  cases 
that  psople  of  either  sex  so  often  carry, 
big  enough  to  hold  night-gear  and  a 
tooth-brush,  or  possibly  a  couple  of 
small  bombs. 

As  my  fair  visitor  continued  to  smile 
and  say  nothing,  I  mentally  ran  over 
the  list  of  people  I  ought  to  know  and 
don't  always  recognise,  but  I  couldn't 
place  her. 

"  It 's  no  good,"  I  said.  "  I  'm  sorry. 
I  ought  to  remember  you,  but  frankly 
I  don't!" 

Still  she  smiled. 

"  I  say,  you  know,"  I  said,  "  you 
might  let  me  into  the  secret." 

At  last  she  made  an  effort  to  speak 
but  failed ;  so,  fearing  that  she  was 
very  nervous,  I  said- cheerfully — • 

"  Do  you  mind  coming  round  to  the 
outer  office ;  there 's  no  one  there,  and 
we  can  have  a  heart  to  heart  talk  about 
this  little  matter  ? 

"  Now,"  I  said,  when  she  was  seated, 
"are  you  a  niece  who  has  grown  out 
of  all  recognition?  If  so,  I  -will  fall 
on  your  neck.  I  adore  my  relations, 
especially  those  who  are  strangers  to 
me.  Can  I  say  more  ?" 

At  last  her  voice  managed  to  force 
its  way  through  the  pearly  portals,  and 
she  spoke. 

"  Do  you  wear — er — neckties  ?  " 

As  I  happened  to  be  wearing  my 
tennis-club  tie — and  the  Baling  Ram- 
blers' tie  is  universally  execrated  by 
jealous  outsiders  for  its  obtrusiveness — 
the  question  seemed  unnecessary. 

"  Well,  yes,"  I  said,  "  funnily  enough 
I  do,  when  I  don't  forget  to  put  one  on." 

Almost  unconsciously  I  put  my  hand 
to  the  tie  enclosure. 

"  I  haven't  forgotten  it  to-day,  you 


see,"   I   said  with    one   of    my   most 
brilliant  smiles. 

Her  eyes  followed  the  direction  of 
my  hand  and  she  smiled  again,  rather 
broadly  I  thought. 

Then  she  began  to  fumble  with  the 
clasp  of  the  leather  case.  Her  hand 
shook.  Clearly  she  was  a  beginner. 

"Allow  me,"  I  said.  "If  you  have 
a  tie  to  pit  against  mine  I  will  accept 
the  challenge." 

"  What  1  want  to  show  you,"  she 
said, "is  not  so — er — striking,  but  much 
more  wonderful." 

She  opened  the  case,  exposing  two  or 
three  dozen  neatly-folded  neckties,  and, 
running  her  finger  lightly  over  an 
octave  or  so,  selected  a  black  silk  one 
with  a  purple  hit  motif. 

"There,"  she  said,  holding  it  poised 
lightly  in  her  left  hand. 

"Well,  what  about  it?"  I  said. 
"  Very  nice  design,  certainly,  but — 

"  Wait,"  she  said,  making  a  swift 
movement  with  her  left  hand  and  gently 
stroking  the  tie  with  her  right. 

I  thought  I  must  be  suffering  from 
myopia;  in  place  of  the  purple  spots 
were  white  triangles,  parallelograms 
and  other  geometric  shapes  dotted 
about  on  the  black  silk.  Before  I  had 
time  to  express  my  astonishment  the 
sorceress  executed  two  more  feats  of 
legerdemain,  the  colour  and  shape  of 
the  pattern  changing  with  each  feat. 

"  Look  here,"  I  said,  trying  to 
suppress  my  excitement,  "if  you  can 
teach  me  to  perform  these  mysteries 
and  your  terms  are  not  too  high,  I  will 
have  one  of  your  conjuring  outfits." 

"  Eighteenpenee,"  she  said  briefly, 
laying  the  tie  on  the  table. 

I  turned  it  over  and  over.  Each  end 
had  a  different  pattern  on  each  side  or 
face  of  it — four  neckties  for  eighteen- 
pence ! 

"  This,"  I  said,  "  is  the  greatest  thing 
that  has  happened.  I  '11  have  two  ties, 
that  is  to  say  eight,  making  one  for 
each  day  of  the  week  and  one  over  for 
Saturday  matinees.  "  I  can  see  myself," 
I  said,  weighing  out  my  three  shillings, 
"  being  soon  spoken  of  as  the  best 
dressed  man  in  Baling." 

"Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said. 
"This  is  my  first  attempt  at  selling 
things.  Wouldn't  your  partner  like  to 
have  some?  " 

I  had  no  intention  of  letting  William 
into  this  good  thing.  I  brook  no  rivals. 
"Come,  come,"  I  said;  "you  are  a 
woman.  Let  me  appeal  to  your  ssnso 
of  human  nature.  Do  you  give  away 
the  name  of  your  dressmaker  to  your 
best  friend?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  I 
suppose  you  are  right." 

I  wished  her  good  luck  and  good 
morning  and,  after  studiously  seeing 


her  off  the  premises,  re-entered  the 
sanctum. 

"There,  my  lad,"  I  said,  spreading 
out  my  purchases.  "  A  complete  neck- 
tie outfit,  except  for  evening  wear  and 
funerals." 

William  turned  them  over  contem- 
platively. "  You  ass,"  he  said,  "  what 
about  the  part  that  goes  round  your 
silly  neck?  .  There  will  bo  a  different 
pattern  showing  on  eacli  side.  You 
can  only  wear  these  baubles  with 
double  collars." 

I  simply  loathe  double  collars. 

LITTLE  COW  HAY. 

Stephen  Culpepper 

Of  Little  Cow  Hay 
Panned  four  hundred  acres — 

As  Audit-book  say ; 
An'  he  rode  on  a  flea-bitten 

Fiddle-faced  grey ; 

There  's  the  house — in  the  hollow, 

With  gable  an'  eave, 
But  they  've  altered  it  so 

That  you  wouldn't  believe; — 
Wouldn't  know  the  old  place 

If  he  saw  it — old  Steve; 

His  dads  an'  his  gran'dads 
Had  lived  there  before  ; — • 

Born,  married  an'  died  there — 
At  least  half  a  score ; 

Big  men  the  Culpeppers — 
As  high  as  the  door ! 

His  wife  was  a  Makepeace— 

An'  none  likelier, 
For  she  'd  five  hundred  pounds 

When  he  married  o'  her ; 
An"  a  grey  eye  as  kindly 

As  grey  lavender ; 

He  'd  sweetest  o'  roses, 
He  'd  soundest  o'  wheat ; 

Six  sons — an'  a  daughter 
To  make  'em  complete, 

An'  he  always  said  Grace 

When  they  sat  down  to  meat ! 

He  'd  the  Blessin'  o'  Heaven 
On  barnyard  an'  byre, 

For  he  made  the  best  prices 
Of  all  in  the  shire; 

An'  ho  always  shook  hands 
With  the  Parson  an'  Squire! 

An'  whether  his  markets 
Had  downs  or  had  ups, 

He  walked  'em  three  couple 
O'  blue-mottle  pups — 

As  clumsy  as  ducklings — 
As  crazy  as  tups  ! 

But  that  must  be  nigh 

Sixty  seasons  away, 
When  things  was  all  dii'f  rent 

D  'ye  see — an'  to-day 
There  ain't  no  Culpeppers 

At  Little  Cow  Hay ! 


OCTOBER  8,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil  TIIK  LONDON   CIIAlUVAitf. 


317 


PEEPS    INTO    BIBLICAL   THEATRICAL    LIFE. 

ARRIVAL  OP  ACTOE-MANAGER,  LEADING  LADY,  AND  OTHER  MEMBERS  OP  THE  CAST. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

IP  I  am  not  mistaken  a  good  many  people  besides  old 
Anglo-Indians  will  delight  in  Miss  S.  MACNAUGHTAN'S  Snow 
upon  the  Desert  (HooDEii  AND  STOUGHTON).  At  the  end 
of  the  story  the  young  married  woman  who  is  its  chief 
character — • 

Like  snow  upon  the  desert's  dusky  face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two — is  goue. 

But  before  she  goes  to  meet  old  Charon,  in  spite  of  her 
occasionally  sharp  or  rather  reckless  tongue,  in  spite  of  her 
carelessness  about  public  opinion  and  the  damning  fact  that 
a  brilliant  young  V.C.  had  first  sent  in  his  papers  and  then 
shot  himself  because  his  love  for  her  had  broken  his  career 
and  his  heart,  she  had  done  far  more  than  ninety-and-nine 
just  persons  to  make  life  happier  and  smoother  and  more 
amusing  for  her  fellow  countrymen  and  countrywomen. 
"  She  came  out  here,"  says  the  author,  "  when  she  was  very 
youthful,  very  full  of  courage,  and  with  her  beauty  and  her 
great  charm  to  refresh  us,  and  we  loved  her  and  blamed 
IKT,  found  fault  with  her,  and  could  not  do  with'out  her. 
\Y<-  were  not  always  merciful  to  her,  but  perhaps  that  need 
not  be  remembered  now.  At  one  time  she  was  perhaps  one 
of  the  most  prominent  figures  in  India,  and  certainly  the 
most  admired."  And  yet  her  life  was  a  tragedy.  To  me  she 
stands  as  a  type  of  English  womanhood  in  India,  of  the 
courage  and  sadness  and  self-sacrifice  that  so  often  accom- 
pany the  apparently  selfish  pursuit  of  pleasure  of  that 
glittering  exile.  I  speak  of  her  as  if  she  were  a  real  person, 
which  perhaps  is  the  case.  That,  at  any  rate,  is  the  effect 
that  Miss  MACNAUGHTAN  has  produced  upon  my  mind.  All 


her  characters  are  wonderfully  alive,  as  if  indeed  they  were 
not  only  types  but  realities.    Some  of  them  are  very  lovable, 
some,  like  their  author,  are  distinctly  humorous,  and  their 
!  story  makes  a  clean,  wholesome  and  refreshing  book. 

I  used  to  revel  in  a  tale 

Of  mediaeval  schemes  and  plottings, 
Daggers  averted  by  chain-mail, 

Love  philtres,  poisons  and  garrottings ; 
So  when  The  House  of  Eyes  turned  up, 

A  yarn  of  Milan  in  its  gloiy 
(HANCOCK  AND  GAY)  I  rushed  to  sup 

Once  more  on  horrors  weird  and  gory. 

But  no  such  luck !     I  'm  bound  to  state 

This  book  of  VIr.  ARTHUR  GEORGE'S 
Recalled  but  did  not  recreate 

My  old-time  literary  orgies. 
Either  he  lacks  the  vivid  touch, 

The  skill,  and  other  points  that  matter, 
Or  else,  grown  old,  I  ask  too  much  ; 

And  I  'm  afraid  it 's  not  the  latter. 


Mr.  GEORGE  ADE,  in  one  of  his  Fables  in  Slang,  giving 
a  list  of  the  various  types  of  novels  of  the  present  day, 
mentions  the  "  careful  study  of  American  life,"  in  which 
nothing  happens  till  the  last  chapter,  when  the  hero  decides 
to  sell  his  cow.  With  the  difference  that,  instead  of  selling 
the  cow,  the  hero  resolves  to  commit  suicide,  The  Bankrupt 
(MARTIN  SECKER)  may  be  said  to  be  the  English  equivalent 
of  this  kind  of  book.  Mr.  HORACE  HORSNELL  has  given  us, 
in  his  story  of  the  life  of  Oliver  Clay,  as1  grey  and  depressing 


31S 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBEB   8,   1913. 


a  novel  as  I  have  ever  read.  Olii-er  "  desired  a  permanent 
base  on  which  to  Imilil  his  life,"  and,  after  several  un- 
successful attempts  to  find  it,  gave  up  the  struggle  and, 
following  the  advice  of  MAIHTS  Arnu.irs,  "  walked  gravely 
and  handsomely  into  tho  other  world."  Nothing  of  any 
influent  brightened  his  life,  and  nothing  of  any  moment 
brightens  the  story  of  it.  He  is  so  constituted  that  women 
do  not  interest  him,  nor  religion,  nor  art,  nor  even  tho 
intellectual  atmosphere  of  Ilampstoad.  Ho  tries  them  all 
in  turn  and  they  fail  to  grip  him.  Tho  experiment  of 
thinking  for  an  instant  of  anybody  except  himself  he  omits 
to  try.  It  is  a  pity,  for  it  might  have  made  all  the  differ- 
ence. The  question  whether  it  was  worth  while  to  write  a 
three  hundred  and  sixteen  page  novel  about  this  extra- 
ordinarily futile  young  man  is  one  that  need  not  ba  dis- 
cussed. "Mr.  UORSNKLL  has  done  it,  and  done  it  so  well 
that  it  is  only  occasionally  that  ho  allows  the  reader  to  be 
irritated.  The  irritation  comes  in  tho  retrospect,  when 
one  wonders  why  the  author 
should  have  concentrated 
his  attention  upon  Oliver  \ 
when,  with  his  gift  for 
character  and  his  minute 
observation,  he  could  have 
dealt  equally  well  with  some 
more  stimulating  hero. 

Suppose  we  were  playing 
a  game  in  which  I  told  you 
the  characters  and  setting 
of  a  book,  and  you  guessed 
th 3  author.  Well,  with  re- 
gard to  Watcrsprings 
(SMITH,  ELDER),  I  should 

)'    that    the    scene    was 
partly   laid    in    a    country 
village  and  partly  in  Cam- 
bridgj,  and  that  the  chief 
character  was  a  don,  a  man 
chaiming,  cultured,  verging 
upon   middle  age,  but  still 
[ull  of    Lively    sympathies, 
surveying  the  world  as  from 
a  college  window,  who — 
But     before     I     got     any 
further    you    -would    pro- 
bably exclaim,  "A.  C.  BENSON,"  and   win.     If,  however,  I 
I  had  not  been  interrupted  I  might  have  gone  on  to  tell 
you  much  more  about  the  book  :  for  example,  that   it  is 
not  a  volume  of  meditations,  but  a  real  story,  with  several  I 
idmirably   studied    characters,    and   a    hero    and   heroine! 
who  marry.     To  be  sure  the  action  is  less  physical  than 
emotional,  but  that  you  would  expect ;  and  I  suppose  there 
are  few  writers  who  can  convey  thoughts  with  a  surer  and 
more  delicate  touth  than  Mr.  A.  C.  BENSON.     Throughout 

was  fascinated  by  two  things — his  sense  of  atmosphere, 
and  the  skill  with  which  he  has  presented  the  point  of  view 
of  "forty  and  a  bittock "  when  confronted  with  youth.  I 
Howard  Kennedy,  the  central  figure,  is  drawn  with  an 
:xtraordinary  sympathy  and  minuteness;  in  his  amiable 
jut  lonely  college  existence,  his  courtship,  and  the  sorrow 
md  consolations  of  his  married  life,  the  man  is  wonderfully 
luman.  There  are  other  characters,  too,  which  I  should 
like  to  praise  in  detail — a  most  actual  undergraduate  for  one, 
and  his  father,  whose  loquacious  enthusiasm  on  every  possi- 
ble topic  is  a  thing  of  pure  joy.  Water  springs,  in  short,  is 
exactly  the  story,  tender,  introspective  and  lovable,  that 
Mr.  A.  C.  BENSON'S  countless  admirers  will  most  thank 
him  for  having  written.  I  do  so  now. 


I  have  just  enjoyed  a  most  pleasant  and  very  inexpensive 
holiday  in  Venice  and  St.  Petersburg!!  with  Mr.  EOTHAY 
REYNOLDS  as  my  guide,  and  only  wish  the  story  of  The 
Gondola  (MILLS  AND  BOON)  were  as  fascinating  as  its 
atmosphere.  The  author  of  My  llussian  Year  has  used 
his  knowledge  to  such  good  purpose  that  the  setting  of  his 
tale  is  quite  excellent,  and  I  fear  to  seem  a  little  insensible 
of  benefits  bestowed  if  I  suggest  that  the  only  reason  1 
can  find  for  tho  laying  of  the  opening  scenes  in  Venice  is 
that  Mr.  REYNOLDS  wanted  some  excuse  for  his  title.  He 
would  havj  done  better  for  tho  construction  of  his  bcok  if 
ho  had  laid  them  in  St.  Petersburg!].  But,  even  so,  The 
Gondola  remains  an  attractive  love-story  of  the  old-fashioned 
type.  For  one  thing  it  has  done  mo  the  rare  service  of  an 
introduction  to  a  charming  Polish  countess,  for  whose 
acquaintance  I  am  peculiarly  grateful.  So  accustomed 
have  I  grown  to  the  abnormally  wicked  Polish  countesses 
of  modern  fiction  that  it  was  difficult  at  first  to  believe  in 

Wanda's  goodness;  but  as 
soon  as  I  was  convinced 
that  she  meditated  no  ap- 
palling crimes  1  fell  quietly 
in  love  with  her.  Tin- 
Gondola  is  a  "first"  novel, 
and  its  freshness  and  un- 
pretentiousness  ought  to 
assure  it  a  mcst  cordial 
welcome. 


["Buy  one  of  our  sleeping-bags  and  have  a  gocd  night's  rest  when 
travelling." — ADVT.] 

Second  Mate.  "  WHO  LEFT  THAT  SACK  ox  DECK?    Jfsi  HEAVE  IT  IN 

THK  HOLD,   WILL  YEB." 


Those  who  would  really 
like  to  have  their  vvhole- 
j  somo  flesh  made  to  creep — 
|  a  form  of  occasional  exercise 
!  which  has  much  to  com- 
)  mend  it  —  should  plunge 
forthwith  into  Undcryrowtli 
(SEOKEB),  wherein  F.  and 
E.  BRETT- YOUNG  have 
essayed  to  follow  Mr. 
ALGERNON  BLACKWOOD  in 
his  none  too  easy  genre, 
and  have  by  no  means 
failed.  Matter-of-fact 
Forf.ytli,  engineer  in  charge 
of  the  completion  of  a 
— '  reservoir  dam  in  a  wild 
Welsh  valley*  finds  unaccountable  sinister  influences  at 
work;  strange  accidents  happen  to  men  and  machines, 
and  a  despairing  depression  of  spirits  settles  over  him. 
The  mountains,  the  river,  and  the  trees  seem  to  him  to 
have  a  threatening  life,  and  the  visionary  Welsh  shepherd, 
Morgan,  "of  the  bleed  of  Morgan  Ap  Owaine,"  quite  simply 
accepting  the  fact  that  they  have,  drives  home  the  stark 
reality  to  the  terrified  consciousness  of  this  prosaic  Glasgow 
man.  He  finds  the  diary  of  his  predecessor,  who,  more  in 
harmony  with  the  spirit  that  moves  in  the  undergrowth, 
has  found  the  peace  of  death.  With  Forsylli  the  thing 
brings  a  decline  to  intemperance  and  despair,  Destiny,  like 
Caliban'itfon  Setebos,  choosing  to  act  in  this  arbitrary  way. 
Perhaps  the  authors  had  no  strict  right,  as  story-tellers,  to 
leave  suspended  and  unexplained  the  episode  of  wild 
Meredith's  sacrifice  of  a  sheep  in  the  circle  of  stones  on  Pen 
Savaddan.  But  they  have  woven  a  convincing  tissue  of 
eeriness  with  the  plausible  suggestion  of  an  esoteric  know- 
ledge which  an  unlearned  reader  may  not  challenge. 

From  an  account  of  a  wedding  in  The  B.E.Africa  Leader: — 

"  The  parents  were  many  and  varied,  there  being  98  in  all." 
A  motley  collection,  well  repaying  insrojtion. 


r.KU 


1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  TIIK  LONDON  CHAEIVAEL 


31!) 


CHARIVARIA. 


'Is  The  Laughing  Husband  likely  to 


its 


pay '.' "   asked    an  investor    before 

IT  is  said  that  there  are  now  twenty- J  production.    "There's  POUNDS  in  it," 
four    candidates    for    tho    throno    of  came  the  answer. 
Albania,  and  it  is  proposed  shortly  '  » 

hold  a  Review  of  them.  Tho  author  of  Mary  Goes  First  has 


nounced  at  ono  of  our  cinematograph 
theatre*.  Positively  Tho  I-a-it  Days. 
Hurry  up! 


1  Saints  Iiavn  a  bad  record  as  states- 
men,"   says   Dean    HF.XSON.      This    is 


play  is  in  actual  use  off  tho  stago.     In 
spite   of  this  the   author  of    the  new 


play  at 
persists 
Joneses. 


the   Strand  Theatre  pluckily 
culling    his    comedy 


in 


*  * 


SUIT 


A  recruit  name. 1  I  dcspAQMOii,  weighing 
oightaen  stone,  and  over  seven  feet  in 

height,  has  been  enrolled  at  Tours,  and 
a  further  increase  in  tho  German  army 

may  become  necessary. 

!:" 

The  2nd   Battalion   of   thn   Oxford- 
shire   and     Buckinghamshire     Light 

Infantry  has  been  camping 
on  I  he  playing  fields  of  Eton. 
Someone  has  evidently  just 
rvmemheml  tlmt  it  \v,is  ther:< 
that  the  Battle  of  Waterloo 
was  won.  ...  ... 

Tho  interest  taken  in  to- 
day's royal  marriage  is  so 
great,  that  it  is  thought 
that  it  may  become  neces- 
sary io  restrict  the  numher 
of  reporters  who  wish  to 
accompany  the  royal  couple 
on  their  honeymoon  to  ono 

hundred.         .;.  .;. 
'  '•'.- ' 

It  is  not  surprising  that 
Mr.  tin  KSTKUTON  should 
always  ho  ready  to  scoff  at 
Eugenics.  Mr.  CHESTERTON, 
we  understand,  was  horn 
imd'T  the  old-fashioned  con- 
ditions and  brought  up  in 
the  old-fashioned  way,  and 
yet  he  has  developed  into 
ono  of  the  finest  children  in 
the  country. ...  ,. 
"  * 

The  road  to  advancement ! 
Signalman  KERRY,  who  was 
dismissed  by  the  Great 
Kastern  Railway  Company 
after  the  Cramer  express 
collision  at  Colchester,  has  been  adopted  I  which  will  shortly  make  its  appearance 


getting  into  trouble  because  the   evidently  realised  by  some  of  our  poli- 
name  Whichello,  which  occurs  in  the   tieians,  who  aro  palpably  steering  clear 


of  the  danger. 


A  new  Insect  House  was  opened  at 
T/ic|the   Zoo   last   week.     A    visit    to   tho 
Monkey  House,  however,  proves  that 
not    all    the    insects    have    yet    been 
The   musical  play,  Art  You  There  ?  segregated. 


MODES  FOtt   MEN'. 

From  a  weekly  cnnserie  by  "A  Bath  Club  Chap"  we  gather  that 
ladies  are  not  alone  in  baing  catered  for  in  the  matter  of  ''Tango" 
wear.  All  the  smart  men's  tailors  are  busy  evolving  creations  suitable 
for  the  ball-room.  No  better  could  be  approached  than  \V.  E.  Spiftin, 
of  Conduit  Street,  whose  "  Tango ' '  suits  (ten  guineas,  with  extra  waist- 
coat in  whita,  cream  or  mole)  are  a  joy  to  the  modern  dancing-man. 


THE  BADGER. 

! ;  \srof  the  night's  quaint  clan 

Jle  goes  his  way— 
A  simple  gentleman 

In  sober  grey ; 
To  match  lone  paths  of  his 

In  woodlands  dim, 
The  moons  of  centuries 

Have  silvered  him. 

Deep  in  the  damp,  fresh  earth 

He  roots  and  rolls, 
And  builds  his  winter  girth 

Of  sylvan  tolls : 
When  seek  the  husbandmen 

Tho  furrow  brown, 
He  hies  him  to  his  den 

And  lays  him  down. 

There  may  ho  rest  for  mo, 

Nor  ever  stir 
For  clamorous  obloquy 

Of  terrier ; 
Last  of  the  night's  quaint  clan 

He  curls  in  peace — 
A  friendly  gentleman 

In  grey  pelisse ! 


as  a  Labour  candidate  for  the  Colchester 
Town  Council. 


at  the  Prince  of  Wales7  Theatre,  will, 
!  we  are  told,  consist  in  part  of  a  satire 
:on  the  London  telephone  system.  If 

Attention   has  been   drawn    to    the i  tho  General  Post   Office  possesses  an 
exceptionally  large  number  of  marriages  I  ounce  of  spirit   there  will,  we  should 
which,  according  to  recent  announce- '  say,  be  some  little  difficulty  in  booking 
ments,  will  not  take  place.     It  would ;  seats  by  telephone. 
he  well  if  people  recognised  at  an  earlier  j  *...* 

stage  that  the  great  danger  of  engage- j      In  the  first  numher  of  The  Tlicspian, 
ments  is  that  they  may  le.vl  to  matri-JMr.  F.  R.  BENSON  urges  upon  actors 

the  importance  of  athletics.  We 
believe  it  to  bo  tv  fact  that,  owing 
to  their  neglect  of  athletics,  many  of 


monv. 


It   is   rumoured   that    Miss    MAHIE 


LI.HYD'S  language,  when   pointing  out   our  leading  actors  are  prevented  from 
to  tho  immigration  authorities  at  New  ;  performing  on  tho  staircases   now   in 


York  that  she  was  a  lady,  was  exceed- 
ingly interesting.  . 

A  theatrical  forecast  has  como  true. 


vogue, 
ruin. 


and  are  consequently  faced  by 


The  Last  Days   of  Pompeii   is   an- 


"  Serpent,  I  say!" 

"If  we  were  to  take  Hr. 
McKenna's  speech  as  representing 
the  considered  resolve  of  hig  col- 
leagues we  should  bo  obliged  to 
conclude  that  the  Government  are  marching 
'  a  plat  ventre '  to  civil  war." — The  Globe. 

Our  sportive  contemporary  must  not 
say  these  hard  things  of  the  Govern- 
ment, or  the  worm  may  turn. 


"The  two  suffragist s  who  aro  to  bo  charged 
at  next  High  Court  in  Glasgow  with  having 
purposed  setting  Are  to  a  house  in  the  West 
End  refused  to  plead  at  the  preliminary  diet." 

Scotsman. 
Another  hunger-strike. 


"  Responsions.  Hr.  Maclure,  M.A.,  Author 
of  Greek  Accents,  prepares  exclusively  for 
above." — Advt.  in  "  Montiny  I'ost." 

A  committee  of  public  school  boys  is  to 
meet  without  delay  to  decide  upon  the 
fate  of  the  self-confessed  inventor  of 
these  horrors. 


\    '!.      CXLV. 


320 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  15.  1913. 


HOW  THE   LIBERALS   GOT  THERE. 

["Liberalism  has  been  successful  because  in  all  its  quarrels  it  tries 
patiently  to  understand  and  mako  allowances  for  the  sincere  point  of 
view  of  the  other  side."— Mr.  Winston  Churchill's  speech  at  Dundee.] 

MEN  of  the  City  of  Marmalade, 
Stern  by  nature  "and  sweet  by  trade, 
Every  morning  you  bear  now  tales 
ll'iw  Victory  .sits  on  the  rally's  sails; 
Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  to  guess 
What  is  the  secret  of  our  success.' 

Hero  are  the  facts  :  we  have  always  tried 

To  get  at  the  sense  of  the  other  side; 

\\'o  have  made  allowances  all  along 

For  what  is  sincere,  though  plainly  wrong; 

Ever  we  say,  as  wo  light  like  hell, 

"They  don't  know  better,  but  may  mean  well!" 

A  typical  case.     My  old  friend  GEORGE, 
When  he  went,  all  out,  for  the  ducal  gorge — 
What  was  the  burning  thought  that  lay 
At  the  back  of  his  head  down  Limehouse  way  ? 
He  was  taking  the  landlord's  point  of  view; 
He  was  making  allowance  for  blood  that 's  blue. 

So  with  his  great  Insurance  Act, 
Marked  by  the  most  amazing  tact. 
Counsel  he  took  with  the  Tory  camp 
On  the  vital  question  of  licking  the  stamp, 
And  constantly  racked  his  fertile  brains 
To  appease  the  Unionist  Mary  Janes. 

Similar  care  we  have  freely  spent 
In  the  matter  of  Disestablishment. 
Before  we  fully  arranged  to  wrest 
To  secular  use  the  Church's  chest, 
We  took  incredible  pains  to  find 
Whether  the  Clergy  would  really  mind. 

The  Chamber  of  Peers  is  another  case 

Where  we  sought  to  save  the  enemy's  face. 

We  might  have  prescribed  a  deadly  cure 

For  the  scandal  of  primogeniture",    ' 

But  we  simply  suspended  its  doom  in  air 

By  a  brief  Preamble — and  left  it  there.  '  •  • 

So  it  has  been  with  the  Home  Rule  Bill : 
We  have  patiently  sought,  and  are  seeking  still, 
Though  Ulster's  wrongs  are  the  merest  myth, 
To  make  allowance  for  F.  E.  SMITH,    - 
And  pleaded  for  grace  (from  yonder  skies) 
To  see  the  picture  with  CARSON'S  eyes. 

Enough !     To  assume  a  kindly  tone 
With  those  who  honestly  err;    to  own 
That  even  a  Tory's  heart  may  be 
Just  possibly  human — there  you  see 
The  methods  that  made  us  what  we  are, 
And  how  we  have  climbed  so  fast  and  far. 

So  now  I  have  told  you  all  about 

A  thing  you  'd  never  have  guessed  without ; 

It 's  my  own  idea,  and  I  don't  suppose 

That  anyone  else  in  the  Party  knows; 

Certainly  ASQUITH  hasn't  yet 

Mentioned  it  to  the  Cabinet.  0.  S. 


' '  WASTED — A  Eurasian  or  Baboo  who  thoroughly  understands  the 
working  of  an  Auto-knitter.     Will  pay  one  anna  per  pair." 

Eurasians  are  cheap  to-day. 


MRS.  BAXTER. 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  look  weary." 

"And  so  would  you  or  anybody  else,"  she  said,  "if  you 
had  to  endure  all  these  worries." 

"  Worries,"  I  said,  "  are  sent  to  us  for  our  good.  If  life 
were  always  placid — 

"  I  should  like  it  much  better ;  but  it  never  is." 

"  No,  it  is  never  always  placid ;  but  it  is  occasionally 
sometimes  placid,  and — 

"  You  are  getting  mixed,"  she  said  ;  "  men  ought  never 
to  get  mixed." 

"  Oh,  do  you  think  so  ?  "  I  said.  "  Don't  you  feel  that  a 
little  mixing  now  and  then  adds  a  spice  of  unexpected  variety 
to  conversation — something  better  than  the  plain  No  and 
the  solid  Yes  ?  The  man  who  never  got  mixed  never  got 
anything." 

"Anyhow,"  she  said,  "it  won't  help  us  just  now." 

"Is  this,"  I  asked,  "one  of  those  moments  in  which 
strong  practical  connnonsenso  could  be  of  any  help  ?  " 

"  It  might  be,"  she  said  ;  "  but  where  am  I  to  find  it  ?  " 

"Or  what  do  you  say  to  the  sympathy  of  a  good  man? 
Not  an  obtrusive  fussy  sympathy,  you  know,  but  a  quiet 
soothing  sympathy  not  so  much  expressed  in  words  as 
You  know  the  sort  I  mean ;  you  have  often  experienced  it, 
haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Do  you,"  she  said,  "  mean  the  sympathy  that  smokes 
a  pipe  and  sits  in  an  armchair  reading  The  Tunes  while  I  'm 
busy  about  the  house?  " 

"  And  why  not?  "  I  said.  "  Besides,  you  know  perfectly 
well  that  I  have  offered  to  do  your  work  over  and  over  again." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  dare,"  she  said. 

"  Francesca,  I  feel  absolutely  reckless.  I  am  off  this  very 
moment  to  order  dinner.  Fish,  meat  and  groceries  shall  ail 
yield  their  mysteries  to  me.  I  could  interview  a  thousand 
cooks  and  never  flinch.  I — 

"  You'll  find  it  difficult  enough  to  interview  one,"  she  said. 

"  One !  "  I  cried  enthusiastically.  "  In  my  hands  she  will 
be  as  clay  to  the  potter.  I  shall  mould  her  to  my  special 
taste  in  entrees  and  savouries.  Oh,  Francesca,  what  dinners 
we  shall  have !  "  I  half  rose  from  my  chair  and  prepared 
to  make  a  dash  for  the  kitchen.  She  checked  me  with  an 
imperious  wave  of  her  hand  and  I  fell  hack  again. 

"  It 's  no  good,"  she  said.  "  You  would  not  find  her  in  a 
humour  to  receive  you." 

"  Oh,  but  I  should  soon  get  her  into  a  receiving  humour. 
We  should  become  great  friends.  There  would  be  no  orders. 
I.  should  make  a  few  tastful  suggestions.  I  should  say, 
'  Mrs.  —  By  the  way,  what  is  her  eminent  name  ?  " 

."Baxter."  ' 

"Thank  you.  I  should  say,  '  Mrs.  Baxter,  how  does  a 
sweet  omelette  strike  you?  '  or  '  Mrs.  Baxter,  what  are  your 
views  on  cutlets  d  la  Soubise?'  and  then  I  should  tell  her 
who  Soubise  was  and  why  the  cutlets  were  called  after  him, 
and  she  would  be  deeply  interested,  and  the  whole  thing 
would  go  off  splendidly.  Do  let  me  try." 

"  I  tell  you,"  she  repeated,  "  it 's  no  good.  She  has  just 
told  me  she  wants  to  go  at  the  end  of  her  month." 

"  WHAT ! !  "  I  said  convulsively. 

"  Shouting,"  said  Francesca,  "won't  alter  it." 

"  Another  dream  shattered,"  I  said.  "  Who  wouldn't 
shout  at  the  disappearance  of  so  fair  a  vision  ?  Why,  oh 
why  must  she  go  ?  " 

"  I  said  something  about  butter,  and  she  seemed  to  resent 
it," 

"  But  you  are  ready  to  apologise  for  your  buttery  imputa- 
tions— I  know  you  are.  Surely  genius  must  not  bo 
hampered  by  hard  words  about  such  a  thing  as  butter. 
Let  her  have  tons  of  butter." 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOBER   15,   1913. 


*  T"S  _.'.\  '  .       I  (v  rt/*^          x.     •  ,-Ts         ,     - 


THE    IDEAL    HOME    (RULE)    EXHIBITION. 


OrroiiKR  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


323 


Bailiff.  "On  NO,  YO'JR  LADYSHIP,  I  DDN'T  Mrao  THE  BATTLE  PICTUUES — T.IEY  DOS'I  03  MCCH  DAMAGE,  DVT  it's  THESE  coxio 

ONES  THAT  MESS  THB  PLACE  UP  THE  WAY  YOU  8KB  IT." 

["  Several  owners  of  large  estates  aro  allowing  tha  use  of  their  grounds  for  the  production  of  cinema  pictures."] 


i 


"  You  'd  be  the  first  to  resent  having  to  pay  for  it." 

"  Not  I,"  I  said.     "  Think  of  her  vegetables." 

"  I  admit,"  said  Francesca,  "  that  her  vegetables  are 
good." 

"  And  her  soup,"  I  continued.  "  Have  you  ever  tasted 
better?" 

"  Her  soup  is  excellent,  but — 

"  There  must  ha  no  '  buts,'  "  I  said.  "  We  cannot  let 
such  vegetables  and  such  soup  leave  us  for  ever  without  a 
struggle.  Did  you  try  to  persuade  her  ?  " 

"Well,  I  didn't  fall  on  my  knees,  you  know.  'You 
wouldn't  have  liked  me  to  do  that." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  should,"  I  said.  "  Surely  it  was  the  one 
thing  to  do.  Your  high  spirit  and  your  pride  are  admirable 
qualities,  Francesca,  but  I  have  noticed,  with  regret,  that 
they  sometimes  lead  you  astray.  They  make  you  do  things 
you  are  afterwards  sorry  for." 

"  Well,  this  time,  you  see,  I  did  nothing.  I  just  said, '  Oh, 
very  well,'  and  asked  her  what  she  had  to  complain  of." 

"  Then  I  suppose  she  broke  into  tears  and  you  mocked 
at  her  grief  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  She  went  off  into  a  long  rigmarole,  and, 
amongst  other  things,  she  complained  very  much  of  you." 

"  Of  me  ?  "  1  said.    "  Impossible." 

"  Yes,  of  you.  She  said  Mr.  Carlyon  didn't  seem  to 
fancy  her  way  of  cooking,  and  sometimes  the  dishes  wasn't 


more  than  tasted,  and  sukkastic  messages  come  out  of  the 
dining-room,  and  that  led  to  disagreeable  back-talk  from 
the  other  servants.  Altogether,  she  didn't  seem  to  approve 
of  you." 

You  ought  not  to  have  listened  to  her,  Francesca,"  I 
said. 

I  couldn't  help  listening  to  her.     Besides,  she's  entitled 
to  give  her  reasons." 

"I  consider  it,"  I  said,  "a  great  impertinence  in  her  to 
talk  like  that  of  me  before  you." 

"  Yes,  and  the  kitchenmaid  was  listening,  too." 

"  Indeed.     And  how  did  it  strike  the  kitchenmaid  ?  " 

"  The  kitchenmaid,"  said  Francesca,  "  seemed  to  think  it 
was  a  joke.  She  sniggered." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  I  have  been  thinking  this  matter 
over.  I  am  afraid  there  is  nothing  for  it.  Mrs.  Baxter 
must  go." 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  agree  with  me,"  she  said. 

"  And  the  kitchenmaid  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she 's  young,"  said  Francesca. 

"  She  must  be  warned  not  -to  repeat  her  behaviour.  It 
was  not  respectful  to  you.  You  ought  to  have  displayed  a 
proper  spirit." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Francesca.  "  I  have  too  much  pride  for 
that.  Proper  spirits  make  all  the  mischief  in  the  world." 

E.  C.  L. 


324 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  15,  1913. 


AUTHORS    DISCUSS    CHINA. 

TURKS  Discuss  AUTHORS'  ILLUMIN- 
ATING UTTERANCES. 
As  a  result  of  tlio  clarifying  effect  on 
public  opinion  of  the  recent  discussion 
of  the  ethos  of  the  Turk  at  the  Authors' 
Club,  a  debate  of  authors  on  the  China- 
man was  held  at  Caxton  Hall  last 
Friday,  Mr.  CHARLES  GAMVICE  again 
presiding.  la  his  introductory  remarks 
the  Chairman  observed  that  although 
he  had  never  personally  visited  China, 


they  had  taken  to  China  instead  of 
Indian  tea  the  cause  of  Home  Eule 
had  progressed  by  leaps  and  bounds. 
Again,  Ireland  was  famous  for  its 
ginger-ale,  the  raw  material  for  which 
was  principally  imported  from  Canton. 
Speaking  for  himself,  it  was  one  of  the 
greatest  disappointments  of  his  journal- 
istic life  when  the  late  DOWAGER  EM- 
PRESS OF  CHINA  declined  to  contribute 
an  account  of  her  early  life  to  the 
columns  of  P.A.P. 

The  Mayor  of  WESTMINSTER  paid  a 


he  had  attended  a  performance  of  The  i  handsome  tribute  to  the  efficiency  of 

the  municipal  administration  of  Pekin. 
That  city  was  far  ahead  of  Kensington, 
where  the  pavements  in  High  Street 
were  often  so  congested  with  perambu- 


Ycllow  Jacket  and  preferred  Mandarin 
to  Seville  oranges.  Men  of  letters,  he 
continued,  would  always  regard  China 
with  sympathy  in  view  of  the  stimu- 
lating effect  of  opium  on  the  genius  of 
DE  QUINCEY  and  COLERIDGE,  though 
personally  he  preferred  barley- 
water. 

Mr.  JOHN  GALSWORTHY  was 
not  present,  but  he  wrote  a 
letter,  which  the  Chairman  read, 
to  the  effect  that,  if  it  could  be 
authoritatively  ascertained  that 
most  Chinamen  married  the 
wrong  woman  first,  he  wouH 
extend  his  patronage  to  the  race. 
Otherwise  China  was  no  place 
for  a  conscientious  English 
novelist. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT  also 
wrote  stating  that  he  had  not  as 
yet  gone  very  deeply  into  the 
matter  of  China,  but  when  next 
be  had  half-an-hour  to  spare  he 
would  devote  it  to  the  compo- 
sition of  an  article  instructing 
the  Chinese  in  all  the  duties 
of  life. 

Mr.  BANISTER  FLETCHER, 
P.B.I. B. A.,  who  apologised  for 
;he  lateness  of  his  arrival,  ex- 

Dlaining  that  he  had  been  detained  by   of  motorists.     Such  a  thing  would  not 
a  dress-rehearsal  at  the  Gas  Congress, :  be  tolerated  in  Pekin. 
delivered  an  exhaustive  address  on  the  j      Mr.  W.  B.  MAXWELL  said  that  China 


Was  this  economy  necessary?  Was 
it  not  rather  an  insult  to  the  450 
millions  of  patient  Orientals  now  ruled 
by  YUAN  SHIH-KAI  ?  He  was  no  scare- 
monger, but  if  ever  we  were  confronted 
by  a  Yellow  Peril  it  would  be  largely 
due  to  such  acts  as  these. 

By  way  of  supplement  to  this 
interesting  debate  we  may  give  a  brief 
summary  of  the  speeches  made  at  a 
meeting  held  in  Constantinople  last 
week  to  discuss  the  tone  and  tendencies 
of  British  authors,  with  TALAAT  BEY 
in  the  chair. 

TALAAT  said  that  the  time  had  come 
to  decide  whether  the  importation  of 
English  novels  should  be  allowed  to 
continue.  For  his  own  part,  he  had 


Secretary  of  Village  Entertainment.  "How,  DON'T  GIVE  THEM 

ANYTHING   TOO  HIGH-CLASS;    THEY   WON'T   UNDERSTAND  IT." 


architecture    of    the   Chinese  Wall,  a  |  was   the  ideal  country  for  a  novelist 
knowledge   of   which,    he   maintained,  because  there  was  no  Library  censor- 
was  absolutely  essential  to  all  journalists  ship.    You  could  publish  just  what  you 
and  novelists.     Whether  one  looked  at  j  liked  there  ;  but  the  melancholy  result 
ts  length,  its  height  or  its  breadth,  it  j  was   that  very    little    was  published, 
mpressedtheimagination  and  furnished  "" 
ood  for  thought. 
Mr.  SILAS  K.  HOCKING,  who  followed, 


Why  this  should  be  so  he  could  not 
imagine. 

Mr.  FILSON  YOUNG  observed  that  he 


said  that  it  was  a  commonplace  of  ( was  glad  that  Mr.  T.  P.  O'CONNOR  had 
European  criticism  to  speak  of  the  im-  •  raised  the  question  of  the  hygienic 
nobility  of  China.  Yet  they  had  aban- '  quality  of  China  tea,  as  it  enabled  him 
doned  the  pig-tail,  and  the  Deputies  at  to  call  attention  to  an  extraordinary 
heir  new  Parliament  all  wore  top-hats,  lack  of  consideration  shown  by  English 
?he  revival  of  the  silk-hat  trade  in ;  chatelaines  for  their  guests.  Quite  re- 
England  was  a  direct  result  of  this  en-  j  cently,  while  staying  in  a  well-appointed 
ightened  policy.  ;  country  house,  he  was  brought  his  early 

Mr.   T.   P.   O'CONNOR,  M.P.,  in  an  morning  tea,  which  turned  out  to  be  of 
loquent  speech,  expressed  the  indebted-  the  most  inferior  Indian  quality.     At 
ness  of  the  Irish  people  to  China.    The  breakfast  the  tea  provided  was  the  best 

nsh  were  notoriously  the  "tea-drink-  Soochong.     But  his  appetite  had  been,  ,  _„..._, 

ngest"  race  in   existence,   and   since  entirely  destroyed.  (Criesof"  Shame!")  I  A  good  doctor  would  soon  cure  them. 


"Already  the  Premier,.  Hsung-Hsi-Ling, 
has  begun  applying  for  sick  leave,  showing 
that  internal  difficulties  are  rampant." 

Daily  Telegraph. 


lators  that  foot-passengers  were  driven  i  no  hesitation  in  declaring  his  conviction 
into  the  roadway,  to  the  imminent  peril !  that  a  wholesale  prohibition  would  be 

in    the    best    interests    of    the 
Ottoman  Empire. 

AHMED  KIZA  said  that  what 
was  wrong  with  the  British 
authors  was  theirlackof  idealism. 
There  were  exceptions,  of  course, 
but  the  worst  of  it  was  that  the 
few  idealists  were  pessimists  to 
the  core.  Take  GALSWORTHY, 
for  instance,  who  had  given 
such  a  fine  picture  of  the 
English  aristocracy  in  The  Patri- 
cian, but  whose  later  works 
gave  him  (AHMED  EIZA)  the 
pure  pip. 

ENVER  BEY,  while  admitting 
his  indebtedness  to  HERBERT 
SPENCER,  deplored  the  decadent 
spirit  which  animated  most 
English  novelists,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Brothers  HOCKING 
and  the  Baroness  ORCZY. 

HILNIC    PASHA    followed  on 
similar  lines.     The   censorship 
in  Turkey  was  purely  political; 
from  the  moral  point  of  view  Turkish 
romances  were  above  reproach,  whereas 
in    England    the    great     majority    of 
novelists  were  engaged  in  a  carnival  of 
competitive  impropriety. 

DJAVID  PASHA  noted  the  extraordinary 
inconsistency  of  British  authors,  who, 
while  criticising  the  domestic  morals  of 
the  Turks,  yet  encouraged  them  in  their 
writings.  He  understood  that  one  of 
the  most  popular  works  recently  pub- 
lished in  England  was  entitled,  Some 
Experiences  of  an  Irish  Harem. 

Ultimately  a  resolution  was  unani- 
mously passed,  expressing  sympathy 
with  the  Libraries  Association  in  Lon- 
don in  their  noble  effort  to  restrict  the 
circulation  of  poisonous  novels. 


OCTOBER  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH, 


DEFINITIONS. 

As  soon  as  wo  had  joined  tho  ladies 
after  dinner  Gerald  took  up  a  position 
in  front  of  tho  firo. 

"  Now  that  the  long  winter  evenings 
are  upon  us,"  lie  began — 

"  Anyhow,  it 's  always  dark  at  half- 
past  nine,"  said  Norah. 

"Not  in  tho  morning,"  said  Dennis, 
who  has  to  ho  excused  for  anything 
foolish  lie  says  since  lie  hecarne  obsessed 
witli  golf. 

"  Please  don't  interrupt,"  I  begged. 
"Gerald  is  making  a  speech." 

"  I  was  only  going  to  say  that  we 
might  have  a  little  game  of  some  sort. 
Norah,  what 's  the  latest  parlour  game 
from  London  ?  " 

"Tell  your  uncle,"  I  urged,  "how 
you  amuse  yourselves  at  the  Lyceum." 

"  Do  you  know  '  Hunt  tho  Pencil '?" 

"  No.     What  do  you  do  ?  " 

"You  collect  five  pencils  ;  when 
you've  got  them,  I'll  tell  you  another 
game." 

"  Bother  these  pencil  games,"  said 
Dennis,  taking  an  imaginary  swing 
with  a  paper-knife.  "I  hope  it  isn't 
too  brainy." 

"  You  '11  want  to  know  how  to  spell," 
said  Norah  severely,  and  she  went  to 
the  writing  desk  for  some  paper. 

In  a  little  while — say,  half-an-hour — 
we  had  each  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a 
pencil,  and  Norah  was  ready  to  explain. 

"  It  's  called  Definitions.  I  expect 
you  all  know  it." 

We  assured  her  we  didn't. 

"  Well,  you  begin  by  writing  down 
five  or  six  letters,  one  underneath  the 
other.  We  might  each  suggest  one. 
•E.'" 

We  weighed  in  with  ours,  and  the 
result  was  E  P  A  D  U.  . 

"  Now  you  write  them  backwards." 

There  was  a  moment's  consternation. 

"  Like  '  bath-mat '  ?  "  said  Dennis. 
"  An  '  o '  backwards  looks  so  silly." 

"  Stupid — like  this, "explained  Norah. 
She  showed  us  her  paper. 


E 
P 
A 
D 
U 


II 
D 
A 
P 
E 


"This  is  thrilling,"  said  Mrs.  Gerald, 
pencilling  hard. 

"  Then  everybody  has  to  fill  in 
words  all  the  way  down,  your  first 
word  beginning  with  'e'  and  ending 
with  '  u,'  and  so  on.  See  ?  " 

Gerald  leant  over  Dennis  and  ex- 
plained carefully  to  him,  and  in  a  little 
while  we  all  saw. 

"Then,  when  everybody's  finished, 
wo  define  our  words  in  turn,  and  the 
person  who  guesses  the  word  first  gets 
a  mark.  That 's  all." 


Genial  Idiot.  "IIvLio,  WHITE,  OLD  HAH.     NOT  SEEN  YOU  FOB  CENTURIES; 

RECOGNISED  YOU  I     MOUSTACHE   AND   ALIi  THAT'S   ALTEBED  YOU  SO  MOCH." 

Perfect  Stranger.  "PARDON  ME,  SIB,  MY  NAME  is  NOT  WHITE." 
Genial  Idiot.  "THAT'S  BAD!    ALTERED  YOUR  NAME,  TOO!" 


SCABCF.r.T 


"  And  a  very  good  game  too,"  I  said, 
and  I  nibbed  my  head  and  began  to 
think. 

"Of  course,"  said  Norah,  after  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  silence,  "  you 
want  to  make  the  words  difficult  and 
define  them  as  subtly  as  possible." 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  wrestling  with 
'E — U.'  I  could  only  think  of  one 
word,  and  it  was  the  one  everybody 
else  was  certain  to  have. 

"  Are  we  all  ready  ?  Then  somebody 
begin." 

"You'd  better  begin,  Norah,  as  you 
know  the  game,"  said  Mrs.  Gerald. 

We  prepared  to  begin. 

"  Mine,"  said  Norah,  "  is  a  bird." 

"  Emu,"  we  all  shouted ;  but  I  swear 
I  was  first. 

"Yes." 


"  I  don't  think  that 's  a  very  subtle 
definition,"  said  Dennis.  "  You  pro- 
mised to  be  as  subtle  as  possible." 

Go  on,  dear,"  said  Gerald  to  his  wife. 
Well,    this    is     rather    awkward. 

M  ne  is " 

Emu,"  I  suggested. 
You  must  wait  till  she  has  defined 
it, '  said  Norah  sternly. 

Mine  is  a  sort  of  feathered  animal." 
Emu,"  I  said  again.     In  fact,  we 
all  said  it. 

Gerald  coughed.     "  Mine,"  he  said, 
"  isn't  exactly  a— a  fish,  because  it — 
"  Emu,"  said  everybody. 
"  That   was   subtler,"   said   Dennis, 
"  but  it  didn't  deceive  us." 

"  Your  turn,"  said  Norah  to  me. 
And  they  all  leant  forward  ready  to 
say  "  Emu." 


326 


PUNCH,   Oil   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  15,  1913. 


"  Mine,"  I  said,  "is  — all  right, 
Dennis,  you  needn't  look  so  excited— 
is  a  word  I  onco  heard  a  man  say  at 
the  Zoo." 

There  was  a  shriek  of  "  Emu ! ' 

"  Wrong,"  I  said. 

Everybody  was  silent. 

»  Where  did  ho  say  it?  "  asked  Nora 
at  last.  "  What  was  he  doing  ?  " 

"  He  was  standing  outside  the  Emu's 
cage." 

"  It  must  have  been  Emu." 

"It  wasn't." 

"  Perhaps  there 's  another  animal 
beginning  with  'o'  and  ending  with 
'  u  ',"  suggested  Dennis.  "  He  might 
have  said,  '  Look  here,  I  'm  tired  of 
this  old  Emu,  let's  go  and  see  the 
E-doesn't-mu,'  or  whatever  it 's  called." 

"  We  shall  have  to  give  it  up,"  said 
Norah  at  last.  "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Ebu,"  I  announced.  "  My  man  had 
a  bad  cold,  and  he  said,  '  Look,  Baria, 
there 's  ad  Ebu.'  Er — what  do  I  get 
for  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Norah  coldly.  "  It 
isn't  fair.  Now,  Mr.  Dennis." 

"  Mine  is  not  Emu,  and  it  couldn't 
be  mistaken  for  Emu  ;  not  even  if  you 
had  a  sore  throat  and  a  sprained  ankle. 
And  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Zoo, 
and " 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"It's  what  you  say  at  golf  when 
you  miss  a  short  putt." 

"1  doubt  it,"  I  said. 

"  Not  what  Gerald  says,"  said  his  wife. 

"  Well,  it 's  what  you  might  say. 
What  HORACE  would  have  said." 

"  '  Eheu  ' — good,"  said  Gerald,  while 
his  wife  was  asking  "  Horace  who  ?  " 

We  moved  on  to  the  next  word, 
P— D. 

"  Mine,"  said  Norah,  "  is  what  you 
might  do  to  a  man  whom  you  didn't 
like,  but  it 's  a  delightful  thing  to  have 
and  at  the  same  time  you  would  hate 
to  be  in  it." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  know  what  you 
are  talking  about,  dear  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Gerald  gently. 

"Quite,"  said  Norah  with  the  con- 
fidence of  extreme  youth. 

"Could  you  say  it  again  very  slowly  ?" 
asked  Dennis,  "  indicating  by  changes 
in  the  voice  which  character  is 
speaking  ?  " 

She  said  it  again. 

"  '  Pound,'  "  said  Gerald.  "  Good- 
one  to  me." 

Mrs.  Gerald  had  "pod,"  Gerald  had 
"pond;"  but  they  didn't  define  them 
very  cleverly  and  they  were  soon 
guessed.  Mine,  unfortunately,  was  also 
guessed  at  once. 

"  It  is  what  Dennis's  golf  is,"  I  said. 

" '  Putrid,'  "  said  Gerald  correctly. 

"  Mine,"  said  Dennis,  "  is  what  every- 
body has  two  of." 


"  Then    it's   not    'pound,'"  I   said, 
because  I  've  only  got  onc-and-nine- 
pence." 

"  At  least,  it 's  best  to  have  two. 
Sometimes  you  lose  one.  They  're  very 
useful  at  golf.  In  fact,  absolutely 
necessary." 

"  Have  you  got  two  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

I  looked  at  Dennis's  enormous  hands 
spread  out  on  his  knees. 

"Is  it  'pud'?"  I  asked.  "It  is? 
Are  those  the  two?  Good  heavens!" 
and  I  gave  myself  a  mark. 

A — A  was  the  next,  and  we  had  the 
old  Emu  trouble. 

"  Mine,"  said  Norah — "  mine  is  rather 
a  meaningless  word." 

"  'Abracadabra,'  "  shouted  everybody. 

"  Mine,"  said  Miss  Gerald,  "  is  a  very 
strange  word,  which — 

"  'Abracadabra,'  "shouted  every  body. 

"Mine,"  said  Gerald,  "is  a  word 
which  used  to  be — 

"  'Abracadabra,'  "shouted  everybody. 

"  Mine,"  I  said  to  save  trouble,  "  is 
Abracadabra.'  " 

"  Mine,"  said  Dennis,  "  isn't.  It 's 
what  you  say  at  golf  when — 

"  Oh  lor !  "  I  groaned.     "  Not  again." 

"  When  you  hole  a  long  putt  for  a 
half." 

"  You  'd  probably  say,  '  What  about 
that  for  a  good  putt,  old  thing?  Thirty 
yards  at  least,'  "  suggested  Gerald. 

"  No." 

"Is  it — is  it  'Alleluia'?  "  suggested 
Mrs.  Gerald  timidly. 

"  Yes." 

"  Dennis,"  I  said,  "  you  're  an  ass.' 

::=  *  *  *  * 

"  And  now,"  said  Norah  at  the  end 
of  the  game,  "  who 's  won  ?  " 

They  counted  up  their  marks. 

"Ten,"  said  Norah. 

"  Fifteen,"  said  Gerald. 

"  Three,"  said  his  wife. 

"  Fourteen,"  said  Dennis. 

They  looked  at  me. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  forgot  to  put  all  mine 
down,"  I  said,  "but  I  can  easily  work 
it  out.  There  were  five  words,  and  five 
definitions  of  each  word.  Twenty-five 
marks  to  be  gained  altogether.  You 
four  have  got — er — let 's  see — forty-two 
between  you.  That  leaves  me " 

"  That  leaves  you  minus  seventeen," 
said  Dennis.  "  I  'm  afraid  you  've  lost, 
old  man."  He  took  up  the  shovel  and 
practised  a  few  approach  shots.  "  It 's 
rather  a  good  game." 

I  think  so  too.  It 's  a  good  game 
but,  like  all  paper  games,  its  scoring 
wants  watching.  A.  A.  M. 


"He,  in  brief,  was  a  fine  example  of  the 
saying,  '  Suarter  in  modo  seo  forther  in  re.' 
Clonmel  Chronicle. 
Gaelic  always  leaves  us  cold. 


NIGHT    AND     MORNING 
THOUGHTS. 

THINK,  when  you  sleep 
And  slip  alone  into  a  world  of  dream, 

That  fairies  creep 
LJp  to  the  darkling  house  by  glow- 
worm gleam ; 
And  then  kind-eyed 
They  cast  delicious  spells  at  your  bed- 
side, 

And  take  you  in  their  keeping 
When  you  are  sleeping. 

In    and   out   and   round   about,   while 

moonshine  is  peeping 
Through  the  dimity  curtains  on  the. 

floor  and  counterpane, 
Puck  with  his  fairy  broom  is  furbishing: 

and  sweeping, 
And  all  the  rest  in  the  dimpsey  light 

are  dancing,  ring  and  chain, 
Cross  hands  and  down  the  middle 
and  cross  hands  again. 

Think,  when  you  wake 
And  blink  your  eyelids  at  the  morning's 

blue, 

That  fairies  slake 
Their  dainty  thirst  upon  the  garden  dew, 

And  tell  the  Bowers 
To  dress  and  give  them  breakfast  in 

their  bowers, 

And  set  the  sunbeams  shaking 
When  you  are  waking. 

Here  and  there  and  everywhere,  when 

broad  day  is  breaking 
They   troop   into   the    garden,   very 

eager  to  be  fed. 
If  the  dew  is  not  delivered,  what  a  fuss 

they  will  be  making  ! 
But  at  last  they  wander  hack  into 

the  wood  and  go  to  bed, 
With  yawns  of  gapy  gossamer,  each 

fairy  sleepy-head. 


Mr.  BIRRELL,  in  acknowledging  the 
receipt  of  the  freedom  of  Glasgow, 
spoke  in  praise  of  great  cities,  and  is 
reported  to  have  referred  to  the  "magic 
names  of  Eome,  Athens,  Jerusalem, 
Paris,  London,  Glasgow-  and  Edin- 
burgh." Dublin  seems  for  the  moment 
to  have  escaped  his  memory. 

"The  great  cathedral  of  Gloucester  was 
filled  to  overflowing,  so  that  the  acoustic 
properties  were  excellent.  The  nave  is  usually 
too  snorous." — Evening  Standard. 

Of-course  it  depends  to  a  large  extent 
on  the  preacher. 

"  Having  confessed  to  stealing  ten  motor 
cycles  from  different  owners  by  riding  off  on 
a  pretence  of  testing  the  machines,  a  carpenter 
was  sentenced  to  three  months'  hard  labour 
at  the  Old  Bailey  yesterday,  Judge  llentoul 
stating  that  he  should  use  extraordinary 
leniency  in  order  to  give  him  another  chance." 

Standard. 
Making  the  eleventh. 


OCTOBER  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHAIMVAIIf. 


327 


Beginner.  "I  WONDEB  WHAT  THE  CI.UB 's  LIKE  I  OUOBT  TO  HAVE  USED  HERE?   NONE  OP  THESE  SEEM  QUITE  EIGHT  I" 


SPEEDING    THE    LINGERING 

GUEST. 

SOME  remarks  which  appeared  in  a 
leading  provincial  newspaper  the  other 
day  upon  the  "  concentrated  essence 
of  hospitality  "  -which  is  extended  at 
modern  week-end  shooting  parties  may 
perhaps  have  been  received  with  resent- 
ment by  certain  society  hostesses  con- 
cerned. "  Modern  hospitality,"  it  was 
explained,  "  is  quite  shameless  in  fixing 
the  hour  of  arrival  and  departure  for 
guests ;  in  some  country  houses  the 
hint  is  conveyed  by  the  tiny  cake 
of  "  visitor's  soap "  in  the  bedrooms, 
symbolical  of  the  brief  time  guests  are 
expected  to  stay."  One  has  always 
had  a  feeling  that  that  is  the  sort  of 
thing  that  ought  not  to  be  given  away 
in  the  press,  but  as  our  contemporary 
has  made  a  start  in  this  direction  we 
may  perhaps  take  the  opportunity  of 
discussing  the  subject  more  fully. 

The  system  of  the  symbolical  soap 
does  not  always  work  quite  so  smoothly 
as  one  might  think.  There  is  a  story 
now  going  the  rounds  of  an  old  gentle- 
man, quite  incapable  of  consciously 
committing  a  faux  pas,  who  neverthe- 
less made  himself  extremely  unpopular 
at  a  well-known  country  house  in  the 
Midlands  by  grossly  outstaying  his  wel- 
come. It  is  only  fair  to  add  that,  as  soon 


as  the  whole  truth  was  known,  he  was 
completely  exonerated.  Ithappened  that 
the  housemaid,  in  preparing  his  room, 
had  carelessly  left  behind  her  a  large 
slab  of  household  soap,  on  which  the 
old  gentleman  worked  away  for  several 
weeks,  never  dreaming  that  he  would 
be  expected  to  leave  before  he  reached 
the  end  of  it.  One  cannot,  however,  so 
easily  excuse  a  certain  Army  officer, 
who  now  finds  all  doors  in  society 
closed  to  him.  For  it  is  said  that  he  had 
committed  the  unpardonable  gaitcherie 
of  ringing  for  more  soap. 

But  symbolical  soap  as  a  means  of 
getting  rid  of  one's  friends  is  rapidly 
going  out.  Involving  as  it  does  the 
personal  habits  and  tastes  of  the  various 
guests  it  has  been  found  altogether  too 
rigid  in  its  operations.  Some  hostesses, 
too,  prefer  a  more  direct  hint  and  sim- 
ply cut  off  the  food  supply;  but  this 
is  not  done  at  the  best  houses.  It  is 
considered  more  delicate  to  disturb  the 
even  tenor  of  the  guest's  tranquillity 
by  a  series  of  slight  but  cumulative 
impediments. 

Thus  he  will  find  that  his  morning 
tea  is  stone  cold;  that  the  fire  in  his 
bedroom  is  allowed  to  go  out  at  9  P.M.  ; 
that  only  one  of  his  boots  has  been 
blacked.  If  these  fail  there  are  other 
and  more  drastic  means,  for  the  modern 
hostess  is  a  marvel  of  ingenuity  when 


it  is  a  question  of  speeding  the  linger- 
ing guest.  He  will  find  a  Bradshaw 
beneath  his  pillow,  or,  if  he  has  brought 
his  motor,  his  chauffeur  will  be  instructed 
to  hang  about  in  unexpected  places 
waiting  for  orders.  Sometimes  the  ear 
is  even  brought  round  and  kept  waiting 
at  the  front  door. 

In  the  case  of  extreme  obtuseness, 
further  steps  may  sometimes  have  to 
be  taken.  The  delinquent  will  find 
that  he  has  to  unpack  his  bag  several 
times  a  day  and  to  be  continually 
retrieving  his  golf-clubs  from  the  front 
hall,  where  they  arelying  in  conspicuous 
readiness  for  his  departure.  And  at 
last,  when  he  goes  up  to  his  room  to 
make  ready  for  luncheon,  he  will  be 
shocked  to  discover  that  the  blinds  are 
down  and  the  carpet  up,  while  a  couple 
of  workmen  are  busy  with  the  electric 
light.  Then  it  will  come  home  to  him. 
The  game  is  up  and  he  must  go. 

But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  he 
will  be  made  to  suffer  any  embarrass- 
ment in  his  farewells.  The  modern 
hostess  is  the  very  impersonation  of 
tact. 

"The  curtain  rises  on  a  splendidly-set 
hunting  scene.  Nothing  is  left  out  at  all. 
Even  the  setters  are  there." 

Sydney  Morning  Herald. 

And,  of  course,  the  landing  net. 


328 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  15,  1913. 


Rosamund  (at  the  words,  "  This  is  for  tJie  second  time  of  asking  ").  "  OH,  MOTHER,  THEN  SHE  's  A  WIDOW\  ' 


WHY   YOU    YELL. 

(Written,  for  the  benefit  of  the  neighbourhood  in  general, 
to  a  plienomenon  who  is  stilt  too  youthful  to  make 
coherent  explanations  for  himself.) 

I  DO  not  think  you  have  a  pain  inside; 

Not  hunger  nor  a  sad  satiety 
Makes  you  screw  up  your  face  like  that,  and  hide 
Those  optics  where  celestial  stars  abide, 

And  bellow  like  the  D. 

Some  there  may  be  of  Calvinistic  view, 
Nursing  the  notion  of  primeval  sins, 

Would  say  old  Adam  's  still  alive  in  you ; 

Others  would  hoist  you  to  a  posture  new 
And  readjust  your  pins. 

These  are  in  error.     So  is  your  mamrria, 

Who  seeks  to  soothe  you  down  with  wordy  sham 

And  deems  you  weary  from  your  long  ta  ta. 

(Editor :  "  What  on  earth  is  that  ?  "     Papa  : 
"  Why,  driving  in  his  pram.") 

That  could  not  cause  such  poignancy  of  woe, 

But  sorrow  for  a  place  where  sordid  pelf 
And  lies  rule  everything — this  spectre  show 
Where  all  is  hollowness.     Poor  child!  Ikno-.v; 
I  felt  the  same  myself. 

I  howled,  they  tell  me,  also ;  I  could  make 

Sufficient  noise  for  two  when  I  was  hurled 
Into  this  vale  of  mourning :  "  Life  's  a  fake  " 
(That  was  the  line  which  I  proposed  to  take) ; 
"  Crikey  !     Is  this  your  world  ?  " 


I  came,  like  you,  from  Paradise ;  I  slid 

Down  by  the  rainbow  stairs,  and,  when  I  saw 
The  meanness  that  enshrouds  a  mortal  kid, 
I  told  them  what  1  thought  of  it — 1  did. 
I  nearly  burst  my  jaw. 

Well,  you  11  get  used  to  it.    You  "11  learn  to  veil 

The  heartfelt  anguish  underneath  a  smile, 
Accept  life's  tinsel,  and  forget  to  wail 
For  that  dim  land  beyond  terrestrial  hail 
Where  things  are  done  in  style. 

Meantime,  what  wonder  that  your  days  are  flat  ? 

Contemptuous  of  the  women's  idle  talk, 
What  wonder  that  you  spurn  the  dorsal  pat  ? 
Your  father's  sympathy  's  too  deep  for  that ;    • 

He  's  going  for  a  walk. 


"FAT-BABY  MISTAKES. 

STRAPPING  INFANTS  ON  WRONG  DIET." 

Daily 

It  is  very  wrong  to  strap  them  whatever  you  may  have 
been  eating. 

A   Farmyard    Imitation  ? 

"It  was  heard  under  excellent  conditions.  Miss  Kdyth  Walker  and 
Mr.  John  Coatea  were  obviously  at  home  and  in  complete  sympathy 
with  their  parts,  the  mooing  duet  being  sung  with  the  deepest  feeling 
and  dramatic  fervour." — Yorkshire  Kvening  News. 


"  Amcng  the  wedding  presents  to  Prince  Arthur  of  Connaught  are  a 
pair  of  socks,  knitted  by  an  octogenarian  shepherd  arid  a  collie." 

Standard, 
Probably  they  did  a  sock  each. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOUKK  15,  1913. 


A    UNION    OF    HEARTS. 

THE  ROTAL  WEDDING,  OCTOBER  15m. 

MR.  PI-NCH.  "  GOOD    LUCK    TO    YOU     BOTH,     SIR!      WE    MAY    DIFFER    ABOUT    ULSTER, 
BUT    WE 'BE    ALL    SOLID    FOR    CONNAUGHT!" 


OCTOHER  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


331 


SINGLE  PILL  CURLS 
DOUBLt  PME.UMONIA 


"WELL,   THIS   18  THE   FIRST  TIME   I   REMEMBER   TO    HAVE  DERIVED   ANY   HEAL   BENEFIT  FEOM   THESE   PILLS." 


THE  NEW  WAY  OP  ADVEE- 
TISING  PLAYS. 

THE  observer  of  contemporary  journ- 
alism   can    hardly   fail  to    have   been 
struck  with  the  change  that  is  coming 
over  theatrical  advertising.    Should  the 
present  tendency  continue,  this  is  what 
we  are  coming  to : — 
Why  suffer  from  Autumnal  Depression 
when  for  a  price  within  the  reach  of 
all  you  can  forget  your  woes  by  wit- 
nessing   the    enormously   successful 
farcical  comedy 

"  WELL,  REALLY,  I  MEAN — 
Every  evening  at  9.      DRYTEARIAN  THEATRE. 
Just  the  thing  for  the  chilly  weather. 
Try  it  before  you  go  to  bed  to-night. 

THE  DESCRIPTIVE  TOUCH. 
How  glorious  is  the  crisp  morning 
air  up  on  this  mountain  side!  How 
the  waters  of  the  burn  sing  with  glad- 
ness as  they  go  splashing  and  flashing 
towards  the  tarn  in  tlie  valley  below. 
The  cottagers  sing  also,  for  blitheness 
of  heart,  as  they  stand  at  their  doors 
to  watch  the  passing  of  the  Duke  of 
Shaftesbury-Avenue  and  his  high-born 
house-party  on  their  way  to  stalk  the 
stag.  See !  There  goes  a  golden  eagle ; 
it  lias  carried  off  a  little  child  to  its 
eyrie  amongst  the  mountains,  but  no 


one  seems  to  mind.  The  day  is  too 
sparkling  and  fresh  for  repining.  Now 
the  stag  runs  away,  and  all  the  house- 
party  follow.  "  Tally-ho !  Tally-ho !  " 
they  cry,  tumbling  over  one  another  in 
their  light-hearted  eagerness  to  secure 
the  quarry.  But,  swift  as  they  are, 
there  is  one  amongst  them,  a  tall  and 
beautiful  English  maid,  who  is  faster 

than  any.     Pier  name  is 

Ah !  For  that  you  must  witness 
Act  I.  of 

"  THE  TWIKL  GIRL." 
ARCADIAN  THEATRE.      Every  evening  at  8.30. 

MORE  TESTIMONY  FROM  THE 
MIDLANDS. 

Perhaps  you  remember  -what  the 
critics  said  about  The  Powder  Pu/? 
(Anyhow,  we  are  not  going  to  repeat 
it.)  Now  let  us  hear  what  the  Public, 
those  who  really  know,  think. 

Mrs.  Harris,  Charwoman,  of  225, 
Bath  Brick  Cottages,  Eugby,  writes : — 

"In  the  summer  of  this  year  my 
health  had  become  very  low.  My 
husband  and  all  my  friends  noticed  it. 
I  was  unable  to  rouse  myself,  and  even 
the  exertion  of  attending  a  picture- 
palace  was  frequently  too  much  for 
me.  One  day  a  friend,  who  had  seen 
your  advertisement,  advised  me  to  try 
a  visit  to  the  World  Theatre.  At  first 


I  resisted  the  suggestion,  but  ultimately 
allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded  to  take 
advantage  of  a  cheap  excursion  to 
attend  your  Saturday  matin&e.  The 
result  was  well-nigh  incredible.  After 
the  First  Act  I  was  able  to  sit  up  and 
take  nourishment.  Before  the  end  of 
the  Second  my  lassitude  and  general 
apathy  had  entirely  disappeared;  and 
I  left  the  theatre  a  different  woman. 
I  consider  your  piece  is  nothing  short 
of  marvellous,  and  I  am  directing  all 
similar  sufferers  to  at  once  visit 

'  THE  POWDER  PUFF.'  " 
WORLD  THEATRE.    Evenings,  9. 
Wednesday  and  Saturday,  2.30. 

"Braid  was  only  a  couple  of  yards  from  the 
tee  in  two,  but  his  putt  went  past  the  hole." 

Tlw  Globe. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  BRAID  to  his  caddie, 
who  offered  him  a  brassie,  "  I  always 
use  a  putter  for  my  third  shot,"  and 
proceeded  to  make  the  longest  putt  on 
record.  

"Navy  blue  pram,   white,  washable,   kid 
lined ;  good  condition,  80s.  or  near  offer." 
Advt.  in  "  Portsmoutfi  Evening  News." 

We  don't  know  what  the  kid  was  lined 
with  ("  good  capon,"  perhaps),  but  we 
hope  lie  will  be  taken  out  before  the 
p:am  is  sold. 


332 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  is.  19:3. 


PROPER    PRIDE. 

George  Fallen  ran  into  me  as  I 
turned  the  corner. 

"  You  'TO  just  the  man  I  want  to  see," 
ho  said.  "  I  want  your  advice." 

"  You  won't  take  it,"  I  replied.  "  No 
one  ever  does.  But  come  in  hero  any 
way."  I  drew  him  into  a  doorway. 

"It's  like  this,"  he  said.  "I  want 
to  know  how  to  reply  to  a  letter  I  'vo 
had  from  the  Earl  of  Frocester." 

"An  earl!"  I  exclaimed.  "Things 
are  looking  up." 

"  Well,  it 's  not  exactly  quite  so  good 
as  you  think,"  he  said.  "  But  I  've  got 
it  here.  I  '11  show  it  to  you." 

George,  I  may  say,  is  a  baritone — • 
one  of  the  best  we  have  in  — 
our    town.       An     amateur 
strictly.     By  day  he  is  en- 
gaged in  land  agency  pur- 
suits. 

He   brought  out   packet 
after  packet  of  envelopes  and  j 
went  through  them.    From  i 
their  appearance  I  guessed 
that  they  represented  the 
mails  of  some  weeks. 

"  I  know  it 's  here  some- 
where," he  said. 

He  went  through  them 
again  and  opened  one  or 
two  without  success. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  put  it  in  my 
pocket,"  he  said.  "  Well, 
never  mind,  I  can  tell  you 
what  it  said."  He  put  the 
bundles  back. 

"  As  far  as  I  can  remem- 
ber," lie  said,  "  it  went  like 
this  :  '  Dear  Sir ' — either 
'Dear  Sir'  or  'Dear  Mr. 
Fallou,"  I  'm  not  sure  which. 
'Dear  Mr.  Fallen,'  I  think. 
Yes,  I  feel  sure  it  was  '  Dear 
Mr.  Fallon.'  That  made  it 


"Well,"  I  said,  "that's  simple  enough.  {      "Oh,  well, 
Of  course  you  replied  that  you  would?"  but   I'd   like 

"No,"  said  George,  "  I  didn't." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  there  were  reasons. 
You  know  I  'm  not  exactly  a  nobody '  should  1  be  fair  to  myself — and,  after 


he  said,  "never  mind; 
you  to  see  it.  I  could 
have  sworn  I  put  it  in  my  pocket  after 
lunch.  Still,  I  've  given  you  the  sub- 
stance right  enough.  The  point  now  is, 


here,  am  I  ?  " 

I  assured  him  ho  was  not — very  much 
somebody,  in  fact. 

"  And  you  would  have  said  that  my 
name  would  occur  as  quickly  as  any 
one's  to  the  mind  of  a  person  getting 
up  a  concert  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  I  said. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  other  people  had 
had  letters  of  invitation  like  this  a  full 
week  before  mine."  His  look  challenged 
me  to  counter  that. 


THE   CAMERA  IN  THE  FOOTBALL  FIELD. 
(Five  well-known  players  snapped  at  Bromleigh  by  a  rising  younj 

artist  who  should  go  far  in  photographic  journalism.) 
Reading  from  left  to  right— BERT  SCKOGGINS,  "  BULL-DOG 
ALF  BOOTS,  JIM  BILKER  AND  CHRIS  MONTGOMEKIE. 


'  Do  let  me  look  again." 


the  more  interesting,  of  course.  How 
I  wish  you  could  read  it !  I  '11  look  for 
it  again.  It  must  be  here  somewhere." 

He  was  again  extracting  his  bundles 
when  I  stopped  him. 

"It  doesn't  matter,"  I  said.  "You 
have  the  sense  of  it." 

"  But  I  'd  like  you  to  read  it,"  he 
said. 

"No,"  I  said. 

"  Very  well,"  he  replied.  "  It  went 
on  like  this : — '  As  chairman  of  the 
committee  who  are  arranging  the 
benefit  performance  on  the  19th  for  the 
Cottage  Hospital,  it  gives  me  much 
pleasure  to  ask  if  you  will  be  so  very 
good  as  to  figure  in  our  programme 
and  favour  the  audience  with  one  of 
your  charming  solos  ?  An  early  answer 
will  oblige.  Yours  faithfully  '• — I  'm 
sure  it  was  '  faithfully,'  "  George  inter- 
polated— " '  FKOCE  j 


"  Are  you  sura?  " 
'  Quite,"  he  said. 


asked. 
1 1  'veseen  them." 


"But  perhaps  London  people  were 
asked  first,"  I  suggested. 

"  No,  these  were  local  artists — like 
me,"  he  said. 

"  Then  what  arc  you  going  to  do  ?  " 
I  asked  him. 

"  That 's  what  I  want  to  know,"  ho 
said.  "  Of  course  I  should  like  to  oblige 
his  grace." 

"  His  lordship,"  I  corrected,  but  he 
missed  it. 

"I  should  like  to  oblige  his  grace," 
he  repeated,  "  who,  after  all,  does  call 
me '  Dear  Mr.  Fallon ' — at  least,  I  believe 


so.     I  wish 
show   you. 


I  had 
But   I 


the  letter  hero 
have  got  it,  I 


certain  ;  I  '11  look  again." 

Again  he  went  right  through 
bundles  of  correspondence,  again 
nearly  had  it,  but  had  it  not. 


to 
'm 

his 
he 


all,  that's  of  some  importance  in  the 
world,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Most  certainly,"  I  said. 
"  Should  I  be  just  to  myself  if  at  my 
time  of  life  I  overlooked  the  deliberate 
passing  over  of  mo  by  this  committee 
until  they  had  had  a  lot  of  refusals? 
For  that 's  what  it  comes  to." 

"Do  you  really  feel  as  strongly  as 
that?"  I  said. 

"I  do,"  he  replied. 
"But    think    of    the    muddle    there 
—  always   is   in  this  kind  of 
thing,"    I   said.     "It    may 
jhave    been    his    lordship's 
fault.     Ha   may  have   for- 
gotten to  write  to  you  for  a 
weak." 

"  I  wish  I  could  think 
so,"  he  said. 

"And  the  object,"  I  con- 
tinued, "the charity.  Surely 
you  would  like  to  do  some- 
thing for  that  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  they  want 
more  than  one  song  ? " 
George  asked  evasively. 

"  It 's  a  very  full  pro- 
gramme," I  suggested, "  and 
you  're  sure  to  get  an  en- 
core. You  '11  take  more  than 
one  with  you,  of  course." 
"If  I  go,"  he  said. 
"  Oh,  you  '11  go,"  I  replied. 
"  His  lordship  has  never 
asked  you  for  anything 
before,  and  to  refuse  would 
be  a  bad  start.  He  did  call 
you  'Doar  Mr.  Fallon,' 
too ! " 

"  I    wonder    if   he    did," 
said  George.     "  I  wish  I  had  the  letter 
here.     I  '11  look  again.     I  'd  so  like  you  j 
to  see  it." 

"Oh  no,"  I  said  quickly.  "That 's  all 
right." 

"  No,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  may  as  well 
looLc  once  more.  I  must  nave  it  some- 
where." 

Again  he  went  through  his  bundles, 
and  this  time  the  letter  actually  ap- 
peared. 

He  was  overjoyed. 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  you  shall  see  for 
yourself,"  and  he  spread  it  out. 

As  he  did  so  his  face  fell.  It  began, 
"Dear  Sir." 

"  Well,  I  'm  hanged!  "  he  said.  "  Tc 
think  I  should  have  got  that  wrong 
But  that  settles  it,"  he  added,  as  IK 
drew  himself  up  proudly  and  re-placet 
the  packets.  "Nothing  shall  induct 
me  to  sing  there  now." 


OCTOBER  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TirE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


333 


IDEA 


Dear  Old  Lady  (to  celebrated  Professor  wJio  is  slwiving  tier  some  chiclcen-lwuses  lie  has  made  in  his  spare  lime).  "Bui  I   HAD  so 

BA  YOU   WERE   SUCH   A  HANDY   MAN.      YOU 'HE   SIMPLY  WASTED  IN  ENGLAND;    YOU  OUGHT  TO   HAVE   GONE  OUT  TO  THE   COLONIES." 


THE  IMPERIAL  LYONS. 

THE  KAISER  becomes  more  and  more 
like  Sir  JOSEPH  LYONS  every  day.  We 
all  know  that  he  paints  pictures ;  so 
does  Sir  JOSEPH.  The  KAISER  can  do 
deadly  work  with  the  pen ;  and  Sir 
JOSEPH  also  is  a  writer.  The  KAISER 
preaches ;  and  even  Sir  JOSEPH  has 
been  known  to  hold  forth.  Now  we 
are  informed  by  The  Daily  News  that 
the  KAISER  owns  a  caf6 ;  and  still  more 
so  does  Sir  JOSEPH  LYONS.  His 
IMPERIAL  MAJESTY,  we  understand, 
occasionally  drops  into  his  own 
restaurant  for  a  little  light  refreshment; 
and  here  again,  if  our  information  is 
correct,  he  follows  the  great  English 
restaurateur's  example. 

"If  KAISER  WILHELM  is  going 
seriously  into  the  business,  however," 
Sir  JOSEPH  is  alleged  to  have  said  to  a 
representative  of  the  Press  the  other 
day,  "  I  am  sorry  for  him.  Forty  to 
fifty  per  cent,  profit  is  not  so  easy  to 
make  in  these  days." 

But  supposing  he  employed  good 
musicians  and  gave  orders  for  his  own 
compositions  to  be  played  ?  " 


"No,"  said  Sir  JOSEPH,  looking 
thoughtfully  out  of  the  window,  as  if 
the  pools  of  memory  had  been  stirred, 
— "  no,  even  then  he  might  fail."  And 
he  sighed.  We  did  not  know  before 
that  Sir  JOSEPH  was  a  composer  also. 

Whilst  on  his  tour  of  enquiry,  the 
representative  of  the  Press  was  authori- 
tatively informed  that  there  was  no 
truth  in  the  rumour  that  APPENHODT  was 
only  an  alias  of  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR. 

An  incident  which  might  have  been 
attended  by  alarming  results  took  place 
in  the  Imperial  establishment  a  few 
days  ago  (writes  our  Berlin  Corres- 
pondent). A  gentleman  entered  and 
sat  at  a  table.  The  waitresses  were 
gathered  together  by  the  coffee-um 
busily  putting  each  other's  brooches 
straight.  After  waiting  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes,  the  customer  rang  the  bell  on 
his  table,  whereupon  a  young  waitress, 
who  had  only  recently  joined  the  staff, 
approached  him  slowly.  She  stood  by 
his  table  looking  at  the  reflection  of 
herself  in  a  mirror.  "  A  small  cup  of 
coffee  and  some  biscuits,  please,"  said 
the  customer.  Without  a  word  she 
returned  to  the  coffee  urn,  convulsed 


her  colleagues  with  some  playful  re- 
mark, and  presently  came  back  to  the 
customer  to  fling  before  him  half  a 
pork  pie  and  a  glass  of  ginger  beer. 
"  No,  my  child,"  he  said  kindly,  "  I 
want  coffee  and  biscuits."  "  Then 
why  couldn't  you  say  so?  "  asked  the 
waitress  crossly.  At  this  juncture  a 
young  cavalry  officer  sitting  at  another 
table,  who  had  with  difficulty  re- 
strained his  feelings  during  the  incident, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  drew  his  sword,  and 
would  have  felled  the  unhappy  at- 
tendant to  the  linoleum.  But  the 
neglected  customer  rose  and  with  an 
imperious  gesture  stayed  him.  "  Sheath 
your  sword,  my  gallant  one,"  he  said; 
"  you  mean  well,  but  we  must  not  have 
bloodshed  here.  This  is  a  respectable 
establishment.  Do  you  hear,  Sir  ?  Put 
up  your  sword  —  I,  your  Emperor, 
command  you ! " 
For  it  was  he  1 


"Before  that  thing  happens  blood  would 
flow,  and  once  blood  had  flown  that  thing 
would  never  happen." — Observer. 

Funny  how  this  craze  for  aviation  gets 
into  the  blood. 


334 


PUNCH,    OK    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBEB  15.  1913. 


PRE-NATAL    INFLUENCE. 

THE  publicity  given  by  The  ^ 
Express  to  tbo  life-history  of  EUGEN- 
ETTB,  the  super-baby  of  Hampstead, 
whoso  parents  prepared  for  her  arrival 
by  undergoing  a  careful  course  of  mental 
aiid  spiritual  exercise,  lias  brought  us 
a  host  of  letters  from  correspondents 
who  give  the  results  of  their  own 
essays  in  this  branch  of  Eugenics.  We 
select  a  few  of  the  most  interesting 
cases  that  have  bean  brought  under 
our  notice  : — • 

Burllf  Cottage,  Bilgeivater. 
Sin,— Before  our  darling  Egregia 
•was  bora  my  wife  and  I  made  a 
complete  study  of  the  works  of  Mr. 
HALL  CAINE.  The  result  is  that  now, 
at  the  age  of  eleven  months,  Egregia  lias 
begun  to  express  her  thoughts  with 
fluency  and  distinction,  while  her  sense 
of  morality  is  wonderfully  developed. 
Her  favourite  plaything  is  a  pen,  and, 
while  displaying  a  healthy  contempt 
for  teddy-bears  and  dolls,  she  invariably 
refuses  to  go  to  bed  unless  accompanied 
by  the  bust  of  SHAKSPEARE,  which 
during  the  daytime  reposes  on  the 
principal  bookcase.  I  may  mention 
that  she  has  converted  the  library  into 
her  nursery,  and  it  is  a  significant 
fact  that  on  entering  that  apartment 
yesterday  I  found  her  absorbed  in 
The  Woman  Thou  Garest  Me,  over 
parts  of  which  she  was  busily  engaged 
in  pouring  the  contents  of  the  inkpot. 

Yours  faithfully, 

THEOPHRASTUS  KNIBBS. 

The  Acorns,  Flowery  Way, 
Cranklcy  Garden  Suburb. 

DEAR  Sin, — Believing  as  I  do  that 
the  perfect  life  is  only  attainable  by  a 
strict  adherence  to  vegetarian  principles, 
I  spent  the  months  preceding  my  son's 
birth  in  daily  communion  with  the 
products  of  Mr.  EUSTACE  MILES,  Mr. 
G.  B.  SHAW,  and  other  leaders  of  the 
same  school  of  thought.  Carrots  (as 
we  call  him,  though  his  baptismal 
name  is  Bernard)  is  now  seven  months 
old,  and  whenever  he  has  been  put  to 
the  test  he  has  refused  meat  in  the 
most  uncompromising  fashion.  He  is 
a  strong,  healthy  lad,  and  takes  an 
unaffected  delight  in  the  physical  and 
breathing  exercises  which  he  is  set  to 
perform  every  morning.  Intellectually 
lie  shows  the  greatest  promise,  and 
from  certain  expressions,  as  yet  in- 
distinct, which  I  have  heard  him  let 
fjll,  I  believe  he  will  develop  into  an 
accomplished  linguist.  This  I  attribute 
to  my  own  customary  diet  of  French 
beans,  Brussels  sprouts,  and  Spanish 
nuts.  Yours  sincerely, 

SEMOLINA  SIMPKINS. 


305,  Contango  Terrace, 

West  Hampst:ccl. 

Sin,—  I  am  willing  to  wager  that  my 
firstborn,  Montagu,  is  the  most  business- 
like baby  in  the  kingdom.  His  mother 
and  I  took  care  of  that.  Before  he 
arrived  she  used  to  come  down  to  my 
office  every  day  and  go  through  the 
books,  and  when  I  mention  that  I  am 
a  financial  agent  in  the  West-end  of 
London  you  will  appreciate  what  this 
means.  Montagu  already  knows  what  's 
what.  I  recently  gave  him  some  coins 
to  play  with,  in  order  that  early  in  life 
he  should  become  familiar  with  the 
value  of  money.  The  other  day  I 
handed  him  a  shilling  and  asked  him 
to  change  it  for  me.  He  solemnly 
counted  out  eleven  pennies  and  pushed 
them  towards  me  ;  the  other  penny,  of 
course,  he  had  kept  for  himself  as 
commission.  He  can  already  do  sums 
in  simple  interest  (from  sixty  percent.). 
I  enclose  my  business  card  in  case  you 
or  any  of  your  friends  should  wish  to 
consult  me,  and  remain, 
Yours  obediently, 

MONTMORF.NCT. 


Belfast. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  The  wife  and  I  are  both 
staunch  Unionists,  and  have  thrown 
ourselves  heart  and  soul  into  the  Anti- 
Home  Eule  movement.  A  few  weeks 
after  the  opening  of  tha  present 
campaign,  during  which  we  attended 
scores  of  meetings,  our  baby  girl,  whom 
we  have  named  Effie  Carsonia,  made  her 
appearance.  She  is  of  a  fierce  fight- 
ing disposition,  and  from  the  moment 
of  her  birth  has  never  ceased  to  declaim 
day  and  night.  The  light  that  comes 
into  her  eyes  when  she  is  shown  a 
Union  Jack  is  beautiful  to  see.  I  regret 
to  say,  however,  that  she  is  now  suffer- 
ing from  an  ulsterated  throat. 
Yours  faithfully, 

PATER  AND  PATRIOT. 

Portland. 

SIR,  —  Unfortunately  for  myself,  I 
happened  to  be  born  shortly  after  the 
discovery  of  the  great  Bank  Swindle 
of  '64.  Doubtless  my  parents,  who 
took  a  deep  interest  in  current  affairs, 
were  full  of  it  at  the  time,  and  this 
explains  certain  defects  in  my  character 
which  have  always  caused  me  great 
pain,  and  which  I  have  never  been 
able  to  eradicate.  Perhaps  now  that 
attention  has  been  drawn  to  this 
important  subject  my  case  will  be 
investigated  scientifically,  and  stepi 
will  be  taken  to  have  me  removed  from 
my  present  uncongenial  surroundings. 
Thanking  you  in  anticipation, 
Yours  hopefully, 

A.  CROOK. 


MUSICAL    OMENS. 

Miss  LILIAN  GKANFELT,  interviewed 
by  The  Pall  Mall  Gazette  on  tbo  subject 
of  her  forthcoming  appearance  in  Mr. 
RAYMOND  K6ZF/S  Joan  of  Arc,  tells 
an  interesting  story  of  an  incident 
which  befell  her  in  her  student  days  at 
Paris : — 

"  One  day  I  was  riding  on  horseback 
with  some  Scandinavian  students  when 
my  horse  shied  and  bolted.  My  hat 
flew  off,  my  hair  came  undone  and  fell 
round  me  in  streams,  but  still  I  held 
fast  and  would  not  let  go.  The  people 
who  saw  me  shouted,  '  Bravo,  Jeanne 
d'Arc !  '  and  it  was,  I  think,  a  sort  of 
sign  that  I  should  one  day  be  the  creator 
of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  in  this  opera." 

Inquiries  made  of  various  luminaries 
of  the  musical  world  show  that  these 
premonitions  are  of  comparatively 
frequent  occurrence. 

Mr.  Boldero-Bamborough  (n6  Bam- 
berger),  the  famous  Scoto-Semitic 
violinist,  writes  from  Boldero  Towers 
to  point  out  that  in  his  early  infancy 
the  nursery  rhyme  to  which  he  was 
always  lulled  to  sleep  by  Madame  Bam- 
berger  was  "  Hi  diddle  diddle,  the  cat 
and  the  fiddle."  It  should  bo  mentioned 
that  Mr.  Boldero-Bamborough  possesses 
a  very  fine  Persian  cat  called  Beethoven, 
because  of  its  addiction  to  Moonlight 
Sonatas. 

M.  JEAN  DE  RF.SZKE,  in  a  recent  inter- 
iew  with  a  Polish  journalist,  describes 
,he  curious  omen  which  befell  him  when 
attending  a  public  elementary  school  in 
L'odolia.      "  One   day,"   remarked   the 
great    tenor,    "I    was    playing  tipcat 
with  some  of  my  schoolmates  on  the 
aanks  of  a  small  lake,  when,  in  the 
ardour  of  the  game,  I  lost  my  balance, 
'ell  into  the  water,  and  being  unable 
;o   swim   would   probably    have    been 
drowned  but  for  the  timely  assistance  of 
an  old  swan,  which  seized  my  waist- 
band with  its  bill  and  brought  me  to 
the  shore.    The  schoolmaster,  who  had 
been  summoned  by  the  cries  of  the  boys,  ! 
shouted   out,    'Buck   up,   Lohengrin!' 
and  for  the  rest  of  my   schooldays  I 
went  by  the  name  of  the  role  in  which 
I   was   subsequently   destined   to   win 
some  of  my  most  resounding  triumphs." 
Madame  MELBA  is  fond  of  telling  a 
curious  story  of  her  schooldays  at  the 
High   School    at    Mazawattee,   which 
foreshadowed  her  success  on  the  lyric 
stage.    On  her  arrival  at  the  school  with 
several   other   new  -  comers  the   head- 
mistress asked,  "  Which  of  you  is  Nellie 
Mitchell?"  and  the  future prima donna 
replied  with  ungrammatical'  emphasis, 
"  Me,  me."    As  a  result  she  was  at  once 
nicknamed  "  Mimi,"  in  accurate  antici- 
pation   of    her   ultimate    identification 
with  the  heroine  of  PUCCINI'S  opera. 


OCTOIIKU  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


LAMENT    FOR    THE    BUTLER. 

[It  has  recently  hern  stated  that,  owing  principally  to  the  increasing 
charges  on  laud,  the  butler  i.s  vanishing  from  the  social  system.] 

ATTEND,  ye  peers,  to  this  my  painful  coil ; 

Ye  squires  and  higli  manorial  lord*,  attend, 
"Whom  the  harsh  taxes  on  your  native  soil 

Compel  to  stint,  and  rudely  recommend 

A  stern  frugality  that  sees  no  end, 
'While  1,  with  dirges  due  and  measures  low, 
Deplore  your  butler,  who  has  got  to  go. 

For  he  was  wonderful.     His  matchless  mien, 

So  calm,  ineffable  and  full  of  rest, 
Would  have  done  honour  to  the  purest  dean. 

Unsmiling,  at  the  board  the  noblest  jest 

Awoke  no  echo  in  that  stoic  breast ; 
Nay,  frequently  'twas  not  without  a  qualm 
Of  daring  that  one  tipped  his  ample  palm. 

And  in  that  rite  how  well  he  would  compare 
With  the  awed  donor.     Not  for  him  the  spell 

Of  fluttering  coyness,  but  a  wavy  air 
Of  one  who,  from  his  loftier  height,  would  quell 
All  doubts  with  "  Peace  upon  you,  it  is  well." 

Gold  only  was  his  metal;  that  full  port 

Forbad  all  coinage  of  the  baser  sort. 

He  was  a  thing  of  ornament,  a  sun 
With  satellites  in  his  reflected  ray ; 

These  worked  that  he  might  see  that  it  was  done ; 
Only  with  pious  hands  lie  would  convey 
The  wine  from  the  deep  cellar  where  it  lay, 

And  tend,  and  serve  it  with  full  care,  and  beam 

Fortli  on  the  board,  immobile  and  supreme. 

A  sun.     And  whence  he  rose  none  ever  knew. 

We  think  he  was  not  made  of  common  eaith  ; 
Surely  that  classic  presence  never  grew 

(Save  to  its  full  convexity  of  girth) ; 

Fully  equipped,  he  must  have  sprung  at  birth 
Like  Pallas ;  for  in  truth  'twould  half  destroy 
His  wonders  had  he  bsen  a  human  boy. 

Haply — we  may  not  know — lie  did  but  come 
From  some  dim  far  isle  in  mysterious  seas 

Where  dwell  the  favoured  race  of  butlerdom, 
And  little  baby  butlers  bloom  at  ease, 
Austere,  grey-whiskered,  with  small  cellar-keys; 

Till  in  a  faery  bark  they  seek  the  shore 

Of  gilded  Mammon  and  return  no  more. 

But  times  wax  hard.     And  he,  the  stay  and  prop 
Of  many  a  proud  demesne,  must  disappear. 

His  lord  will  mourn  him ;  guests  who  come  to  stop 
Will  to  his  memory  drop  a  kindly  tear. 
Pert  maids,  of  undeniably  trim  cheer, 

Will  ply  his  gentle  task  and  save  expense, 

Yet  never  reach  his  storied  eminence. 

Then,  butler,  pass ;  tho'  not  without  regret, 
Thy  nest,  no  doubt,  is  feathered,  and  I  see 

Those  chambers  in  the  West,  which  thou  wilt  let, 
And  prosper,  and  from  every  care  be  free 
Save  one,  which  may  be  safely  left  to  me : 

Thou  shalt  not  be  forgotten,  for  all  time 

Being  made  famous  by  this  deathless  rhyme. 

Di'M-Duii. 

"  Tlu  y  started  side  hy  side  at  the  f  ill  of  a  fl-ig.  and  flew  neck  and  neck 
to  York,  when-  the  Lancashire  pilot  (Mr.  F.  It.  Raynham)  arrived  some- 
thing like  forty  ininutus  in  front  of  his  opponent." — Daily  Neics. 

Either  he  had  a  very  long  nock,  or  they  flew  very  slowly. 


The  Mother.  "Now,  YOUNG  LLKWELLYN,  I  'VE  ONLY  GOT  A.  PEKNY 

LEFT,  BO  YOU  'LL  *AVE  TO  BUS  ALOSG  OP  THE  'BUB  A31  I  'li  MEET, 
YEH  AT  TUB  OTHEB  END." 


SPARING   OUR  FEELINGS. 

TIIR  recent  softening  action  of  Sir  JAMES  BABBIE  has 
led  to  still  more  developments  of  the  new  "  Drama  with- 
out Fears."  A  new  Act  is  to  be  added  to  the  enormously 
successful  drama  Sealed  Orders,  in  which  it  will  be 
explained  that  all  the  horrid  happenings  of  battle  and 
bloodshed,  airships  and  assassination,  are  in  reality  but  tho 
disordered  imaginings  of  the  (supposed)  burglar  who  drinks 
the  drugged  wine  (not  poisoned)  in  Act  I.  What  actu- 
ally took  place  was  that  a  party  of  high-spirited  young 
people  had  arranged  a  mock  burglary,  with  no  felonious 
intent  whatever,  through  the  roof.  One  of  them,  overcome 
by  huskiness,  drinks  the  wine  that  has  been  treated  with 
a  soporific  but  quite  innocuous  powder,  and  dreams  the 
rest  of  the  play.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  new  Act, 
which  shows  him  wakening  none  the  worse,  and  the 
restoration  of  the  dismissed  clerk,  will  go  far  to  dissipate 
any  doubts  that  might  have  been  formed  concerning  the 
perfect  niceness  of  everybody  concerned. 

Actuated  by  a  kindly  anxiety  lest  the  feelings  of  the 
audience  should  be  unduly  harrowed  by  the  spectacle  of  a 
too-realistic  lion,  the  management  of  the  St.  James's  Theatre 
have  now  made  arrangements  by  which  the  beast  shall 
appear  before  the  curtain  and  address  the  spectators,  saying 
that  he  is  no  such  thing,  but  a  man  as  other  men  are,  and 
indeed  telling  them  plainly  that  he  is  Mr.  SILLWABD,  the 
aotor.  It  is  reported  that  Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW  has  been 
induce-]  to  take  this  suggestion  from  a  fellow  dramatist 
(the  author  of  A  MidsummeK  Night's  Dream  and  other  plays). 


336 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  15,  1913. 


AT  THE 

'THE  GRAND 


PLAY. 

SEIGNEUR." 


'  my  own  hard  heart,  should  by  all  the 
'  rules  have  easily  broken  down  the 
|  villain  himself  who  overheard  it.  On 


ONE    has    had   the  opportunity  of  j  the  contrary,  he  took  it  unmoved,  and 
admiring  on  many  a  stage  the   lofty   it  was  only  when  the  mob  got  wind  of 


his  identity,  and  he  saw  his  game  was 
up,  that  he  assumed  repentance  and 
made  admission  of  his  evil  life  in  a 
speech  of  studied  rhetoric. 

Duecredit  must begiven  to  the  authors 
of  the  play  for  its  unpretentiousness. 
But  there  was  one  very  pretentious 
scene  where  promise  far  outran  per- 
formance. A  certain  dancer,  Odette, 
of  the  Parisian  stage,  had  renounced 
frivolity  in  exchange  for  the  love  of  a 
good  honest  fellow,  the  Vicomte  de  St. 
Croix.  An  accident  to  her  coach — she 


and  contemptuous  detachment  of  the 
French  aristocrat  in  face  of  the  Revo- 
lution ;  the  heroism,  too,  of  his  devo- 
tion and  self-sacrifice.     But  about  the 
Marquis  de  la  Valliure's  indifference  to 
death   there   was   something   original. 
With  the   guillotine  waiting   for   him 
round   the  corner   ho  could   still   find 
time  to  be  a  private  villain.     Indeed, 
though  faithful  to  his  caste  and  pre- 
pared to  die  gamely  with  the  best  of 
them,  he  has  the  effrontery  to   adopt 
the  insignia  of  the  common  enemy  in 
order   to    compass    a    personal 
revenge  against  a  member  of  his 
own  class.     During  the  process 
ho  finds  himself  in  a  position  to 
effect    several    gallant   rescues, 
and  altogether  his  villainy  has 
a  rather  attractive  flavour.    His 
very  name,  Desire,  though   for 
some  reason  it  had  discarded  its 
first    accent  and   anyhow   was 
singularly  inappropriate  to  his 
character,  tended  to  dispose  one 
in  his  favour,  and  his  graceful 
cynicism  always  found  a  foil  in 
the  brutality  of  the  sansculottes 
who  might  at  any  moment  have 
his    blood.     His  candour,   too, 
was    very  disarming;    he   was 
not  satisfied  that  his  villainous 
designs  should  be  known  to  the 
audience ;  his  victim  must  share 
them.     "  I  have  decoyed  you  to 
my  bedroom  on  a  false  report," 
he  tells  the  innocent  Adele,  in 

his  gentle  voice,  "  in  order  that       The  Grand  Seigneur  (greatly  lored  and  making  conversation) 
you  may  be  compromised,  and   "Been  to  many  Minuet  Teas  this  season,  Duchesse?" 


then  you  will  have  to  marry 
me."  You  can't  expect  the 
gallery  to  hiss  a  villain  like  that. 

It  was  just  a  simple  melodrama  of 
action  with  no  play  of  character  and 
frankly  free  of  all  intellectual  subtlety. 
From  the  moment  in  the  First  Act  when 
the  Marquis  says,  in  effect,  to  his 
menial,  Captain  Taberteau,  "  You  may 
have  forgotten  a  certain  detail  in  your 
past  career  which  it  is  convenient  that 
the  audience  should  know ;  I  will  there- 
fore recall  it  to  you  " — we  saw  that  we 
were  not  to  be  worried  by  any  defiance 
of  dramatic  tradition.  Nor  could  the 
ingenuous  remark,  "  Let 's  have  no  more 
of  your  histrionics  "—an  oli  ruse,  this, 

which  an  actor  is  made  to  refer  to 
stage  as  if  he  weren't  on  it — deceive 
us  into  supposing  that  we  had  to  do 
with  anything  else  but  histrionics  all 
ihrough.  But  there  was  a  momentary 
apse  at  the  end.  A  pathetic  scene 
Between  the  villain's  victim  and  her 
ittle  sister,  which  very  nearly  touched 


Marquis  de  la  Vallifre 
Duchesse  de  liennes 


Mr.  H.  B.  IRVING 
Miss  MABIE  LOHB 


is  on  her  way  to  Paris — brings  her  to 

the  Chateau  of  Rennes,  occupied  by  a 

few   intoxicated  Sons  of  Liberty.     A 

miniature  trunk  that  accompanies  her 

is  understood  to  contain  her  repertoire 

of  dancing  apparel ;  and  she  is  invited 

to  perform  before  these  ruffians  in  the 

costume  of  Phryne,  a  part  in  which  she 

has  won  much  esteem  in  the  metropolis. 

1  have  my  own  ideas  as  to  the  costume 

appropriate  to  this  historical  character, 

and  the  one  assumed  by  Odette,  though 

sketchy,  bore  no  resemblance  to  it  in 

point  of    impropriety.      Nevertheless, 

and   though    it   was    concealed    by   a 

voluminous   cloak,   she  chose,   by   an  i  gladly  share  the  strain. 

incredible    kink   of    modesty,   to    risk 

her  husband's  life  rather  than  escape 


should  change  garments  with  her.  After 
a  very  improbable  scone,  in  which  he 
affects  to  mistake  her  for  Odette,  the 
Duchesse  is  compelled  to  dance  a  minuet 
with  him  in  this  alleged  costume  of 
Phryne. 

I  have  so  seldom  had  the  experience 
of  seeing  Miss  MARIE  LOHR  in  a  play 
where  she  has  not  been  asked  to  appear 
in  pyjamas  or  other  undress  that  I  suf- 
fered no  appreciable  shock.  And  any- 
how the  performance  was  of  the  most 
perfunctory  and  respectable.  The  Mar- 
quis, who  was  justified  in  expecting 
something  a  little  more  troublant,  didn't 
attempt  to  conceal  his  boredom,  but 
just  walked  through  the  dance,  keeping 
up  a  continuous  flow  of  conversation. 

Mr.  HARRY  IRVING  was  con- 
tent to  play  his  villainy  in  a  low 
key,  and  made  no  very  strong 
bid  for  unpopularity.  He  acted 
with  an  easy  skill  worthy  of 
a  much  better  setting.  Miss 
MARIE  LOHR,  in  the  distressful 
part  of  the  Ducliesse,  which 
allowed  little  scope  for  her  light- 
ness of  touch,  was  most  moving 
in  the  scene  with  the  tiny 
Annette,  prettily  played  by  Miss 
SYBIL  JOSE.  The  rest  of  the 
cast,  including  a  revolutionary 
with  a  strong  Cockney  accent, 
do  not  call  for  much  remark, 
though  Miss  MAY  WIIITTY 
played  well  as  a  Comtesse  who 
could  talk  scandal  or  step  to  the 
guillotine  with  equal  aplomb. 
Mr.  BEN  FIELD  afforded  a  little 
relief  as  a  Maire  in  liquor ;  and 
Miss  GLADYS  FFOLLIOTT,  im- 
personally described  as  "  A 
Virago,"  showed  great  spirit. 
It  was  not  her  fault  that  she 
suddenly  decided  to  have  no 
more  taste  for  blood  on  the 
strength  of  a  remark  made  by  the 
Duchesse  de  Bennes  about  a  lady  who 
had  just  lost  her  head  on  the  guillotine : 
"  I  pray  God  she  had  no  children ! " 
I  thought  these  tricoteuses  were  made 
of  sterner  stuff. 

Mr.  HARRY  IRVING  is  very  welcome 
back  amongst  us,  and  I  wish  his  new 
enterprise  a  great  success.  But  he 
must  not  mind  if  I  also  wish  that  he 
would  be  a  shade  more  ambitious,  and 
allow  his  fine  gifts  a  better  chance  than 
they  can  find  in  a  play  which  offers  so 
little  exercise  for  the  intelligence  of 
actors  and  audience.  I  would  very 


O.  S. 


with  him  in  a  costume  in  which  he 
must  have  seen  her  a  hundred  times  on 
the  stage.  So  she  insists  that  the 
young  Duchesse  de  Eennes  (object  of  the 
wicked  Marquis's  loathsome  addresses) 


"The  last  edition  was  obviously  a 
improvement.  It  contains  85'2  pages,  besides 
58  pages  of  Introduction ;  say  6CX)  pages  in 
round  numbers. ' ' — Freethinker. 

Of  course,  if  they  ask  us  to,  we  will 
say  it,  but  we  don't  believe  it. 


OCTOBER  15,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


337 


Disgusted  Sportsman.  "  MISSED  AGAIN!    I  CAN'T  HIT  A  THING.    I'LL  HAVE  TO  GIVE  IT  UP!" 
Stalker.  "On,  I  WADNA  DAE  THAT.    YE  CANNA  HIT  THEM,  BUT  YE  HAE  A  FINE  STYLE,  WHATEVER." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 

I  HAVE  long  suspected  that  there  are  two  Miss  MARY 
CHOLMONDELEYS,  and  the  publication  of  her  new  novel, 
motwithstanding  (MURRAY),  confirms  my  suspicion.  One 
Miss  CHOLMONDELEY  is  an  entirely  delightful  person.  She 
rejoices  in  country  scenes — some  village  with  its  parson,  its 
old  maids,  its  rectory  and  its  rooks,  its  school  and  green,  its 
manor  house  with  the  squire,  and  its  inn  with  the  gossips. 
Such  scenes  she  describes  supremely  well,  and  I  enjoy  im- 
mensely her  own  enjoyment  in  the  doing  of  it.  There  is 
in  her  new  novel  a  chapter  that  contains  the  very  best 
description  of  a  village  choir-practice  that  I  have  ever  read, 
and  indeed  all  the  homely  humorous  scenes  in  Notwith- 
standing are  pictures  of  quiet  English  life  that  neither  Miss 
MITFORD  nor  Mrs.  GASKELL  have  excelled.  But,  alas,  there 
is  also  the  other  Miss  CHOLMONDELEY.  This  is  the  lady 
who  gave  us  the  melodrama  of  Red  Pottage  and  of  Prisoners. 
In  those  books  she  had  herself  to  some  extent  under  control, 
but  in  Notwithstanding  she  revels  gloriously.  Her  story 
depends  upon  at  least  a  dozen  most  elaborate  coincidences ; 
upon  conversations  either  just  overheard  or  just  missed ; 
upon  four  characters  who  are  either  paralytic  or  insane; 
upon  a  wicked  nurse  who  marries  the  idiot  son  in  order  to 
obtain  the  property ;  upon  a  will  which  is  lost  and  found 
with  a  quite  bewildering  iteration;  and  finally  upon  the 
most  convenient  fire  in  all  fiction — a  fire  that  burns,  with 
great  precision,  the  exact  corner  of  the  will  that  the  hero 
and  heroine  desire  it  to  burn.  How  hopelessly  arc  the  quiet 
realistic  scenes  of  country  life  upset  by  these  extravagances  ! 


Why  is  Miss  CHOLMONDELEY  so  determined  upon  a  manu- 
factured and  incredible  plot?  No  one  wishes  for  melo- 
drama when  so  many  real  and  convincing  delights  are 
offered.  I  beg  of  her  to  dismiss  once  and  for  ever  her 
Surrey-side  collaborator. 


It  was  happily  inevitable  that  Mr.  G.  F.  BRADBY  (whose 
j  Dick  contained  one  of  the  most  delightful  studies  of  boyhood 
in  modern  fiction)  should  sooner  or  later  write  an  exclusively 
'  school  story.     The  Lanchester  Tradition  (SMITH,  ELDER)  is 
•  however  unexpected  in  that  its  protagonists  are  not  school- 
boys  but  schoolmasters.      I   must   say  that   the  relative 
novelty  of  this  is  welcome ;  and  it  may  at  once  be  added 
that  it  proves  Mr.  BRADBY  well  qualified  to  deal  shrewdly 
with  his  own  kind.     One  feels  on  every  page  that  the  book 
is  the  work  of  one  who  knows  thoroughly  what  he  is  writing 
about — not  to  say  one  who  has  taken  an  unholy  and  impish 
joy  in  a  good  deal  of  it.     Certainly  the  peculiar  atmosphere 
of  a  public  school  community,  that  strange  blend  of  idealism 
and   pettiness,  courage  and  futility,  could   not  have  been 
conveyed  with  more  truth  than  in  this  story  of  the  new  head- 
master   of    Chiltern    and    his    difficulties.     Many    of    the 
characters  are  clearly  portraits,  though,  I  suspect,  composite 
ones ;    they    are    certainly    all    very    much    alive,    from 
Mr.  Flaggon,  the  head,  down  to  Tipham,  whom  he  imports 
as  the  latest  product  of  Cambridge  culture — with  results 
somewhat   devastating  to  the  senior  staff.     Mr.  BRADBY, 
has  a  gift  of  phrase  that  I  have  admired  before  (there  is,  for 
!  example,  a  definition  of  English  oratory  that  is  alone  worth 
I  the  sum  charged  for  the  book)  and  an  ironic  humour  none 
'  the  less  biting  for  its  placidity.     He  has  in  short  written  a 


338 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  15,  1913. 


book  that,  though  its  chief  appeal  will  be  to  the  specialist, 
provides  the  general  public  with  a,  sufficiently  entertaining 


story,  and  some  valuable  instruction. 
it  with  emotion — of  various  kind*. 


The  expert  will  re  id 


I  believe  that  the  worth  of  a  novel  could  he  at  once  dis- 
covered from  a  glance  at  the  handwriting  in  which  it  was 


book,  which  goes  on  to  narrate  the  happy  ending  of  the  love 
affair  between  his  daughter  and  the  rather  ingenuous  young 
man  who  has  been  chosen  to  chronicle  his  life,  my  enthu- 
siasm, I  fear,  gradually  dwindled,  since  none  of  these  people 
evoked  in  me  sufficient  interest  to  drive  away  the  over- 
shadowing memory  of  the  dead  man.  This  is  perhaps  what 
the  authoress  intended,  and  yet  I  cannot  help  feeling  that 


originally  composed.    I  do  not,  however,  anticipate  that  the  a  dead  sinner,  even  though  he  is  expiating  his  evilness  in 

publishers,  even  for  the  purpose  of  testing  my  theory,  will  another  world,  does  not  make  a  wholly  satisfactory  character 

take  to  reproducing  authors'  works  in  facsimile,  for  what  is  for  romance.     As  with  all  books  that  I  have  read  written 

most  readable  in  print  would  probably  prove  least  legible  in  by  Roman  Catholics  the  trail  of  the  tract  is  everywhere 

manuscript.     Mr.  A.  SCOTT  CBAVEN  writes,  I  suspect,  in  a  clear  in  this  one;  but  in  fairness  it  must  be  added  that,  like 

diminutive  and  scholarly  hand,  giving  a  pleasing  effect  from  nearly  all  novels  that  are  the  work  of  Roman  Catholics,  it 


a  distance  but  proving  undecipherable  on  closer  inspection. 
Further,  his  written  page  must,  I  think,  bo  noticeably 
darkened  with  frequent  erasures,  many  a  word  having  been 
altered  many  a  time.  There  is  that  in  The  Fool's  Tragedy 
which  makes  me  wish  that  he  had  dictated  it  to 


is  written  exceedingly  well. 


It  is  an  odd  paradox  that  stories  about  real  persons  and 
events  should  afways  bo  harder  to  believe  than  those  that 
are  entirely  imaginary.  But  the  fact  remains,  and  I  was 
an  impatient  and  bullying  stenographer,  insistent  on  spesd,  conscious  of  it  just  now  when  reading  The  Rescue  of  Martha 
regardless  of  diction  and  intolerant  of  any  later  revision  ;  in  (HUTCHINSON).  Everybody  knows  what  good  rousing 
which  case  a  meticulous  sense  of  style  would  not  have  been  |  romances  Mr.  F.  FRANKFORT  MOORE  can  make  up  out  of 
allowed  to  interfere  with  the  flow  of  a  ready  inspiration.  [  his  own  head.  Here,  however,  he  has  gone  to  actual 


He  has  a  fine  type  of  fool, 
the    brilliant    thinker,    the 
restless,  sparkling  theorist 
detached  from  and  incapa- 
ble of  all  worldly  considera- 
tions,  and   the   tragedy  is 
developed     in     the     most 
cogent  circumstances,  those 
politely  known  as  "reduced." 
The  situation  is  acutely  felt 
and  acutely  impressed,  and 
the  relations  of  the  magnifi- 
cent pauper  with  the  world 
in  general  and  his  wife  in  j 
particular    are    vivid     and  j 
real.     All   that  is  wanting ; 
to  make  the  book  great  is  I 
the    spontaneity    which    I 
feel    has   been   suppressed. 
Over-elaborate  descriptions 
I  could  forgive  as  an  amia- 
ble diversion,   but    it    is    a 
dialogue  should  be  stilted. 


HOW  TO  OVERCOME  THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  THK  SHORTAGE 
OF  HORSES  IN  THE  ARMY. 

A  KEW  BUEED  OK  THE  LINES  OP  THF.  DACHSHUND. 


more   serious   flaw   that   the 
One  conversation,  as  a  result 


of  which  the  chief  speaker  incurred  suspicion  of  practical 
immorality,  was  so  much  edited  that  it  was  rendered  and 
still  remains  (to  me,  at  any  rate)  meaningless. 

Mr.  Blake  of  TJie  Bab  Ballads  was,  as  no  doubt  you 
remember,  a  regular  out-and-out  hardened  sinner,  and 

"quite  indifferent  as  to  the  particular  kinds  of  dresses 
That  the  clergyman  wore  at  the  church  where  he  used  to  go  to  pray." 

His  latitudinarianism,  however,  obtained  a  measure  of 
toleration  from  his  biographer  which  is  not  extended  to 
Horace  Blake  (HUTCHINSON)  by  Mrs.  WILFRID  WARD. 
That  gentleman,  a  dramatist  of  unsurpassed  genius,  but  a 
militant  atheist  and  by  all  standards  a  thorough  bad  lot,  is 
introduced  to  us  when  under  sentence  of  death  from  an 
incurable  disease,  and  at  the  zenith  of  his  career  as  an 
iconoclastic  but  popular  playwright.  Leaving  at  home  his 
wife,  who  worships  his  intellect  though  she  understands  his 
character,  he  goss  to  St.  Jean  des  Pluies  in  Brittany  with 
his  daughter  in  order  to  take  what  must  be  his  last  holiday, 
and  falls  under  the  spell  of  the  religion  which  had  been  his 
in  childhood,  so  that  he  dies  shriven  and  in  the  arms  of  the 
Church  of  Rome.  He  had  previously  given  orders  that  the 
last  act  of  his  cleverest  and  most  provocative  play  should 
be  destroyed.  From  the  beginning  of  the  second  part  of  the 


— [happenings;  the  theme  of 
the  book  is  a  reconstitution 
and  an  explanation  of  the 
shooting  of  MARTHA  RRAY 
by  JAMES  HACKMAN.  It  is 
a  sufficiently  sordid  story ; 
and  the  reader,  who  will 
rejoics  to  find  Mr.  MOOBK 
again  in  that  eighteenth- 
cantury  period  that  lie  knows 
and  handles  so  well,  may  be 
excused  for  wishing  that  he 
had  chosen  a  more  fragrant 
episode.  Of  its  three  chief 
personages  indeed — Martha 
herself,  the  elderly  Lord 
Sandwich,  whose  light  o' 
love  she  was,  and  // 
man,  who  intrigue;!  with  Inr 
under  the  roof  of  her  noble 
protector — there  is  none  for 


whom  very  much  sympathy  can  be  claimed.  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  didn't  find  niy  lord  the  best  of  the  trio — he  was  at 
least  free  from  cant.  Still,  such  as  it  is,  the  story  is  to'.cl 
with  an  engaging  bustle ;  and  the  eighteenth-century  atmo- 
sphere is  excellently  preserved.  The  scenes  move  before  one 
like  a  series  of  contemporary  prints — more  delicate  in  treat- 
ment than  in  subject.  But,  after  all,  this  is  only  another 
way  of  praising  Mr.  MOORE'S  mastery  of  his  medium,  a 
task  happily  superfluous.  So  I  will  let  it  go  at  that. 

"  '  Mr.  Claude  Grahamo-VVhite  is  now  making  a  flight  with  a  pas- 
senger,' shouted  the  megaphone  man  as  '  Clandio  '  banked  gaily  over- 
head with  a  rather  stout  young  man  wearing  a  monocle  behind  "him." 
We  always  wear  ours  in  front. 


Heuter. 
the  throne 


of 


'•VIENNA,  Thursday. 

The  King  of  Greece  had  intended  to  visit  the  Emperor  on  his  way 
back  to  Greece,  as  his  father  used  to  do  nearly  every  year.  Hi's 
Majesty  was  compelled,  however,  to  accelerate  his  return  to  Athens, 
but  he  sent  a  telegram  to  the  Emperor  expressing  his  great  regret  at 
the  fact  that  his  intended  visit  could  not  take  placo. — 7' 

[King  Gustavo  V.  was  born  in  1858,  and  ascended 
Sweden  in  1907,  in  succession  to  his  father,  Oscar  II.  Ho  married 
in  1881  Princess  Victoria  of  Baden,  and  has  by  her  three  sons.  The 
eldest,  the  heir  to  the  throne,  Gustaf  Adolf,  w.is  born  in  1882,  and 
married  in  1905  Princess  Margaret  of  Connaught,  by  whom  he  has 
four  children.]  " — Daily  Nctrs. 

"  Good  !  "  said  the  Editor.     "  I  'm  glad  you  've  been  able  to 
get  rid  of  that  stuff  about  KING  GUST'AVE  at  last." 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


339 


CHARIVARIA. 

ALT,  attempts  to  secure  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEORGE  for  the  forthcoming  Welsh 
comedy  at  the  Strand  Theatre  have 
failed.  *  * 

With  reference  to  the  CHANCELLOR'S 
promise  of  a  Bill  to  settle  the  Land 
Question,  a  correspondent  writes  from 
Gotham  pointing  out  that  we  already 
have  a  Settled  Land  Act,  and  protesting 

against  more  legislation. 

*  i  * 

"Father,"  asked'the  boy,  "did  Mr. 

LLOYD    GEORGE    make    the    Panama 

Canal  ?      Because   I   read   somewhere 

that  he  had  gone  in  for  land-bursting." 

*...* 

The  desire  for  local  self-government 
is  spreading  in  Ireland.  Not  only  does 
Ulster  wish  to  be  ruled 
by  Sir  E.  CARSON,  but 
in  Dublin  there  is  now 
a  large  party  in  favour 
of  that  city  being  con- 
trolled by  Mr.  LARKIN, 
and  Mr.  REDMOND  is 
asking  what  will  there 
be  left  for  him. 


Suffragettes  to  know  that  it  is  not  only 
women  who  are  treated  as  chattels. 
The  management  of  the  New  York 
Hippodrome  have  agreed  to  lend  their 
little  clown,  MA  RCKLIXK,  to  Mr.  CHARLES 
COCHK.VN  for  his  Christmas  season. 

The  Mayor  of  GUILDFORD,  it  is 
announced,  is  departing  from  the  usual 
custom  of  inviting  only  male  guests 
to  the  Mayoral  banquet.  The  ladies 
protest  that  they  have  never  had  any 
desire  to  shirk  such  functions. 


"DRESS  AND  THE  MAN 

COLLARS   AND   SHIRTS   FOR   THB 

EVENING." 

Evening  Standard. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  they  smarten 
a  man  up.     Try  them. 


,  It  really  is  astonish- 
ing the  number  of 
people  who  take  LABKIN 

seriously. .;.  -;. 
'  * 

Mr.  UHE  has  been 
made  Lord  President  of 
the  Court  of  Session. 
What  a  change — from 
political  life  to  a  sphere 
where  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth 
must  be  told !  ...  ^ 

The  conversion  of  the  building  behind 
the  Victoria  Memorial,  St.  James's 
Park,  into  a  palace  is  now  rapidly 
approaching  completion. 

Mme.  LYDIA  YAVORSKA,  who,  in  I  love 
you,  played  the  part  of  a  duck,  has 
changed  her  bill  at  The  Ambassadors. 

*  * 

Satisfaction  is  being  freely  expressed 
in  juvenile  circles  at  the  settlement  of 
the  trouble  in  the  spinning  trade  which 
threatened  to  interfere  seriously  with 
the  peg-top  season. 
.  *  * 

~'£ 

There  is  no  pleasing  some  people. 
The  Suffragettes  disliked  the  Cat  and 
Mouse  Act,  yet  no  sooner  does  the 
HOME  SECRETARY  agree  to  suspend  it  in 
favour  of  two  of  their  number  convicted 
of  arson  than  these  ladies  are  more 
annoyed  than  ever. 

*  * 

It  may  afford  some  poor  solace  to 


THE    PROGRESS    OF 
CIVILIZATION. 

[Tho  bargees  of  tho  Swalo  assert  that  thojr 
have  now  finally  renounced  tho  use  of  strong 
language.] 

1   POLED   my  punt  on  Thames'  silver 

tide, 

And  there,  by  dint  of   faulty   navi- 
gation, 

I  struck  a  barge,  and  gave  her  shabby 

side 
A  barely  palpable  excoriation ; 

The  bargee's  words  were  positively  rank : 

"  Dash  blanky  dash,"  he  yelled,  "  blank 
dashy  blank !  " 

On  Kentish  Swale  I  met  a  like  mishap, 
And,   motor-launched  and  furiously 

driving, 

I  made  thebargernan  execute,  poor  chap, 
An  unrehearsed  and 
sudden   feat    of 
diving. 

When,  grampus  -  like, 
he  rose  from  that 
assault, 

He  smiled  and  said, "So 
sorry,  Sir;  my 
fault  t " 


PASTIMES  OP  THE  GREAT. 
PRIMA  DONNA  CURBING  VOICE  so  AS  TO  RELY  ENTIRELY  on  DRAMATIC  GESTURE 

IN    VIEW  OF   PENDING   D&BVT  IN   CINEMATOGRAPH   PLAY. 


Drink,  it  is  evident,  still  retains  some 
of  its  old  attractive  power.  '  Messrs. 
ALLSOPP  AND  SONS  offered  two  vacan- 
cies on  their  staff  to  University  men. 
They  received  seventy  applications. 

:;:     :;: 

It  is  announced  that  it  has  been 
decided  that  the  new  battleship  pro- 
visionally ordered  of  Messrs.  VICKEKS 
LTD.  is  to  be  named  Revenge,  and  not 
Renown.  The  MAD  MULLAH  declares, 
however,  that  he  is  not  to  be  intimi- 
dated. 


*  * 


The  huge  building  Olympia  is  now 


labelled : — 


"  OLYMPIA 

IDEAjJ  HOME.' 


A   countryman   gazed   up   at   it.     "A 
size  too  big  for  me,"  he  remarked, 

*.,.* 

Two  women  fought  a  duel  at  Naples 
last  week,  and  one  of  them  was 
wounded.  We  trust  that  this  may 
prove  a  salutary  lesson  to  them  as  to 
the  danger  of  this  method  of  settling  a 
dispute. 


Legal  Intelligence. 
On  Monday,  October 
11,  the  Michaelmas 
Law  Sittings  were 
opened.  Having  at- 
tended the  service  at 
the  Abbey  and  sung, 
without  hesitation,  the 
anthem  ("Behold,  how 
good  and  joyful  a  thing 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
unity  "),  the  Bench  and  Bar  proceeded 
to  the  Law  Courts  to  start  on  the 
1,817  actions  awaiting  trial. 

"  Her  whole  aspect  was  altered,   she  was 
staring  round  in  utter  surprise,  like  a  shop- 
walker suddenly  awakened." — The  Pictures. 
"  Shopwalker  "   would  appear  to  be  a 
misprint  for  "  Post  Office  Clerk." 

Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  as  reported  in 
The  Liverpool  Courier : — 

"If  that  if  fair  for  a  property  which  is  tho 
creation  of  a  man's  brain,  why  should  it  ba 
unfair  for  another  Monopoly,  not  created  by 
tho  landlords — a  coduodity  which  is  more 
vital  to  the  whole  conditions  of  life?  " 
This  is  a  question  which  every  thought- 
ful citizen  should  answer  for  himself. 


A  new  book  has  been  announced  in 
America  as  follows : — 

"  ROOSEVELT.  Theodore  Roosevelt.  An 
autobiography.  By  Theodore  Roosevelt. 
Col.  Roosevelt's  own  story  of  his  lifj." 
Those  who  are  in  the  know,  tell  us  that 
there  will  be  a  lot  about  ex-President 
ROOSEVELT  in  it. 


340 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


TO  THE  CURSE  OF  MY  COUNTRY. 

(After  reading    Mr.    LLOYD    GEORGE'S    vines    on    the 
predatory  habits  of  the  pheasant.) 

GAY  fowl  that  in  my  more  ethereal  moods 
I  count  too  fair,  too  innocent,  to  perish  ! 
When  men  have  talked  about  tho  plague  that 

broods 

Over  the  rustic  lives  we  ought  to  cherish, 
Little  I  dreamt  that  you  were  at  its  root, 
Voracious  brute  I 

Under  those  radiant  plumes  I  hear  you  hido 
A  constitution  which  would  shame  a  vulture; 

The  ruin  of  our  ravaged  countryside, 

Our  blighted  homesteads,  and  our  agriculture 

Reduced  to  pulp— all  this,  I  'in  told,  is  dua 
Largely  to  you. 

Like  to  a  monstrous  army  on  the  sack 

You  plunge  our  teeming  tilths  in  desolation ; 

Like  .to  a  swarm  of  locusts,  in  your  track 
You  .spread  the  germs  of  rural  emigration ; 

The  scene  reminds  one  of  the  Halls  of  Tara, 
Or,  say,  Sahara. 

Your  natural  food  is  worms  and  fallen  gram ; 

You  have  no  fancy  for  the  mangold- wurzel ; 
And  yet  your  wanton  beak,  for  joy  of  bane, 

When  in  a  leisure  hour  the  chance  occurs,  '11 
Puncture  the  last-named,  causing  more  distress 
Than  one  would  guess. 

For  now  the  truth  comes  out :  a  searching  light 
Thrown  on  our  blasted  land  reveals  ziiy  error 

Who  thought  of  you  as  something  quiie  all  right, 
Not  as  a  bird  of  prey,  a  ravening  terror, 

That  makes  the  bowers  where  once  the  turnip  smiled 
'Perfectly  wild. 

Well  have  you  kept  your  secret  till  to-day ; 

But  LLOYD  has  probed  it  with  his  Land  Enquiry; 
Relentlessly  he  plucks  the  veil  away, 

Promising  vengeance  and  a  Dies  Irts 
When  you  and  other  things  that  he  has  cursed 
Are  to  be  burst. 

For  Hodge  and  England!   Yes,  your  day  is  dead; 

And  I,  for  one,  shall  do  my  bes|  endeavour 
To  take,  when  next  you  rocket  o'er  my  head, 

A  deadlier  aim  (if  possible)  than  ever, 
As  though  behind  me  GEORGE'S  voice  I  heard 
Say,  "  KILL  THAT  BIRD  !  " 

=====  °'S< 

HOW  CAN  THEY  AT  THE  PRICE? 

HAVE  you  tried  the  shilling  table  d'hote  luncheons? 
I  only  discovered  them  last  week.  And  ever  since  I  have 
been  wondering  whether  it's  some  kind  of  philanthropic 
institution  or  a  business  move.. 

This  morning  I  treated  my  friend  Grumpson  to  a  shillings- 
worth,  and  I  believe  he  has  come  very  near  to  solving  the 
problem  for  me. 

I  will  briefly  describe  the  lunch  and  its  effect  on  Grumpson. 
Picture  him  sitting  there  contentedly  after  demolishing  the 
first  course.  I  watch  him  furtively,  and  marvel  at  the 
cheapness  of  it  all.  I  know  Grumpson  of  old.  He  is  an 
epicure  of  the  first  water.  Nothing  but  the  best  satisfies 
him.  I  myself  have  not  quite  sunk  to  the  inclusion  of 
gastronomy  amongst  the  fine  arts,  but  I  can  at  least 


appreciate  good  cooking  and  edible  food.  The  management 
is  most  considerate,  and  refrains  from  blazoning  the  absurd 
price  of  this  feast  upon  its  menu  cards.  I  do  nothing  to 
defeat  this  tactful  reticence,  for  I  think  that  a  knowledge 
of  tho  facts  might  tend  to  mar  Grumpson's  enjoyment. 
Besides,  he  is  rather  fond  of  twitting  me  about  what  ho 
politely  terms  my  excessive  economy. 

I  sit,  as  I  said,  furtively  watching  him,  wondering  tho 
while  how  on  earth  they  can  do  it  at  the  price.  Mind  you, 
this  is  an  anxious  time  for  1113.  The  whole  adventure  is 
an  experiment  on  my  part,  for  I  owe  Grumpson  a  luncheon 
and  a  restaurant  of  this  kind  may  be  rather  a  handy  thin" 
to  have  up  one's  sleeve  for  these  occasions.  Yet  apparently 
I  need  have  no  fear.  The  fish  proves  just  as  excellent  as  the 
hors  d'aeuvrc,  and  the  cnlrfe  is  simply  delicious.  Grumpson 
usually  talks  through  an  indifferent  meal,  treating  the  act 
of  mastication  as  a  mere  bodily  necessity.  Now  he  says 
nothing,  but  his  facial  mirror  reflects  the  satisfaction 
within. 

The  service,  again,  is  nothing  short  of  perfection.  Our 
waiter  is  the  essence  of  competence,  and  though  the 
place  is  full  we  suffer-no  inconvenient  delay  between  the 
courses.  We  arrive  at  the  cheese  and  biscuits  after- a  sweet 
that  I  know  happens  to  be  one  of  Grumpson's  particular 
weaknesses.  He  attacks  his  Stilton  with  undiminished  gusto. 
Finally  coffee  is  served— of  so  fine  a  quality  that  th'e  aroma 
of  it  might  wTell  cause  the  mouth  of  a  Sultan  to  water. 

It  really  is  a  wonderful  rneul. 

Carelessly,  yst  with  a  note  of  triumph  in  my  voice,  I 
remark  :  "  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it,  Grumpson?"  He 
drains  his  cup  and  beams  upon  me.  "  Excellent,  old  chap ! 
By  Jove!  They  must  pay  their  chef  a  pretty  penny.  It 's 
one  of.  the  best  lunches  I  've  ever  tasted."  He  glances 
at  his  watch.  "Yes.  We've  just  time.  --Have  another 
with  mel " 

THE   SINGLE -BLOT. 

Lilac  Cottage,  Bilberry  Green. 

SIR, — In  an  age  when  the  setting  aside  of  convention 
and  time-honoured  British  custom  is  all  too  popular  (due, 
n  -my  opinion,  in  great  measure  to  the  present  so-called 
Government),  it  has  been  delightful  to  read  of  the  incidents 
attending  the  wedding  of  Prince  and  .Princess  Arthur  of 
Donnaught  last  week.     I  was  so  glad  to  sea  in  the  pictures 
that  (all  unknown  to  the  happy  pair,  I  am  given  to  under- 
stand) a  slipper  was  fastened  to  the  back  of  the  motor  in 
which  they  started  for  their  honeymoon.     This   is   as  it 
should  be.     It  has  given  equal  pleasure  to  read  that  both 
•ice  and  confetti  were  thrown  over   the  royal  bride   and 
>ridegroom.     Even  the  King  himself,  they  tell  me,  threw 
ome  rice;  and  we  may  bo  sure  that  one  who  bears  the 
eputation  of  being  among  the  best  shots  in  Europe  did 
good  service  in  that  direction. 

But,  Sir,  it  was  with  something  akin  to  pain  that  I  dis- 
dvered  the  absence  from  this  occasion'  of  a  detail  which, 
o  my  mind,  custom  has  made  a  hallowed  necessity  to  a 
ruly  British  marriage.  Let.me  say  at  once  that  in  no  way 
an  blame  be  attached  to  the  newly-married  pair  for  the 
mission  to  which  I  refer ;  their  domestic  happiness  must 
uffer,  alas,  through  no  fault  of  their  own.  Upon  their 
riends  must  lie  the  responsibility  for  the  fact  that,  among 
be  multitude  of  wedding  gifts,  not  one  single  silver  cruet 
or  the  centre  of  the  table  was  included.  My  own  dear 
arents  had  no  fewer  than  seven,  several  of  which  I 
still  possess.  Still,  I  do  hope  that  the  dear  Prince  and 
"rincess  may  be  truly  happy. 

Yours,  etc., 

LAVINIA  LIYENDER. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.— OCTOBER  22,   1913. 


'  S.  0.  S." 

PUNCH  (to  Mr.  MARCONI).  "MANY  HEARTS   BLESS  YOU   TO-DAY,  SIR.    THE  WORLD'S  DEBT 
TO   YOU    GROWS    FAST." 


344 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


HOW   TO  APPEASE    ULSTER. 

SIB,— May  I,  through  you,  bring 
lx;fore  your  Radical  contemporaries  of 
the  daily  and  weekly  press  a  perfectly 
infallible  method  of  making  Ulster  and 
I'lstermen  happy  and  reconciling  them 
to  Home  Rule  ? 

I  have  noticed  that  no  true  Ulster- 
man  has  the  least  objection  to  being 
called  a  traitor,  a  bigot,  a  sedition- 
monger,  a  potential  rebel,  or  anything 
of  that  kind.  Indeed,  he  seems  to  revel 
in  it.  But  if  you  laugh  at  him  or  ridi- 
cule his  plans,  his  armies  or  his  leaders 
he  becomes  purple  and  all  but  inarticu- 
late with  passion,  and  any  attempt  at 
argument  is  thenceforth  wasted  on  him. 

That  being  so — you 
must  have  noticed  it 
yourself — I  suggest 
that  Radicals  should 
change  their  tactics. 
In  future,  when  Sir 
EDWARD  CARSON,  with 
F.  E.  SMITH  in  attend- 
ance, reviews  his  forces, 
instead  of  belittling  the 
attitude  of  the  leader 
and  depreciating  the 
character  and  number 
of  the  army,  they  should 
write  of  them  after  this 
fashion : — 

"  These  men  are  trai- 
tors of  the  very  worst 
and  1 1 1 1  >  s  t  traitorous 
description.  They  are 
massing  their  fighting 
men  (and,  whatever 
else  we  may  think  of 
them,  we  know  that 
Ulstermen  can  and  will 
fight  to  the  very  last 
gasp) ;  they  have  an 
inexhaustible  store  of 
arms  and  ammunition ;  they  have  ap- 
pointed their  leaders.  Their  chieftain 
is  Sir  EDWARD  CARSON,  and  none  has 
greater  skill  than  he  in  appealing  to 
the  basest  and  most  seditious  passions 
of  mankind.  Their  fighting  commander, 
General  RICHARDSON,  a  scarred  veteran 
of  a  hundred  campaigns,  is  noted  not 
merely  for  his  genius  as  a  strategist 
and  a  tactician,  but  also  for  the  iron 
discipline  which  he  ruthlessly  enforces 
upon  his  men.  He  is,  perhaps,  the 
greatest  soldier  who  has  ever  worn  the 
British  uniform.  We  shudder  to  think 
what  the  issue  of  the  war  will  be  when 
such  a  captain  commands  the  hosts  of 
the  zealots  and  bigots  who  have  rallied 
to  the  standard  of  the  revolution  in 
Ulster.  Moreover,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  Mr.  F.  E.  SMITH  is  on  the 
side  of  Ulster.  We  have  never  agreed 
with  those  who  are  inclined  to  make 
light  of  this  man.  On  the  contrary, 


we  believe  him  to  bo  a  good  rider  and 
the  possessor  of  a  venomous  tongue. 
He  is  an  iron  embodiment  of  unalter- 
able devotion  to  principle,  and,  when 
fighting  begins,  lie  is  sure  to  be  found 
wherever  the  bullets  are  thickest.  The 
presence  of  such  a  leader  in  the  field  is 
wortli  10,000  men. 

"  Yesterday  there  was  another  review 
of  militant  traitors  before  KING  CAHSON. 
It  is  said  that  there  were  12,000  men 
(including  Mr.  F.  E.  SMITH)  on  parade. 
This  is  obviously  an  understatement 
put  forth  with  the  view  of  lulling  the 
Government  of  the  country  into  a  false 
security.  Our  own  information  is  that 
as  many  as  50,000  men  in  the  dower 
of  strength  and  manhood  marched  past 


GAEDEN   SUBURB  IDYLLS. 
THE  BREADWINNER'S  GOODBYE  TO  HIS  CHILDBEN. 


the  saluting  point.  We  have  reason 
to  believe  that  throughout  Ulster  Sir 
EDWARD  can  reckon  on  the  support  of 
no  fewer  than  half  a  million  warlike 
men. 

"  We  have  stated  the  facts  as  calmly 
as  we  can.  The  danger  is  overwhelm- 
ing. Why  does  the  Government  give 
no  sign  ?  Let  them  look  to  it  before 
it  is  too  late.  Their  plain  duty  is  to 
arrest  and  imprison  the  rebellious 
leaders  of  this  dreadful  movement. 
Otherwise  we  see  no  alternative  except 
a  prompt  submission5  to  traitors  who 
are  prepared  to  drench  the  land  with 
blood." 

There,  Sir,  what  do  you  think  of  the 
idea  ?  On  reading  such  an  article  The 
Pall  Mall  Gazette  will,  I  am  sure,  say 
that  at  last  a  ray  of  light  has  begun  to 
pierce  the  miasma  of  Radical  blind- 
ness. Yours,  etc., 

ANTI-DEMOCRITUS. 


THE    VILE    CORPUS. 

[A  provincial  schoolmistress  recently  applied 
for  tho  loan  of  a  baby  from  the  local  work- 
house for  several  hours  weekly  to  enable  her 
to  give  practical  lessons  in  the  washing  and 
dressing  of  infants.  It  is  to  bo  hoped,  how- 
ever, that  there  will  not  be  a  repatition  of  the 
grim  tragedy  described  in  the  following  lines.] 
HE  was  only  a  workhouse  baby, 

A  poor  little  creature,  left 
In  a  railway  cloak-room,  or,  may  be, 

From  natural  causes  bereft ; 
But  his  fame  shall  for  ever  be  written 

In  letters  of  purest  gold, 
For  he  lived  and  died  like  a  Briton, 

And  thus  is  his  story  told : — 

On  Monday  to  school  he  was  taken 
And     shamelessly    stripped    of    his 

clothes — • 
An  insult  designed   to 

awaken 
A   fury   of    infantile 

oaths. 

On  Tuesday,  with  heart- 
less exertion, 
They  plied  him  with 

water  and  soap, 
And    at    the    eleventh 

immersion 
He  ceded  his  remnant 
of  hope. 

On   Wednesday  and 
Thursday      the 
victim 
By   amateur   fingers 

was  clad ; 

With  wandering  "safe- 
ties" they  pricked 
him 

And   drove   him   in- 
curably mad. 
They  put  him  to  bed 

on  the  Friday, 
With    physic    next 
day  he  was  dosed, 
And,  looking  a  little  untidy, 

On  Sunday  he  gave  up  the  ghost. 

There  are  tears  for  his  fate,  which  was 
rotten, 

But  he  suffered  in  order  to  save, 
And  babies  as  yet  unbegotten 

With  garlands  shall  honour  his  grave; 
For,  if  there  's  exemption  for  others 

From  exquisite  torment  of  limb, 
'Twill   be   due   to  the  fact  that  their 
mothers 

Once  experimented  on  him. 


An  esteemed  contemporary  publishes 
a  photograph  of  a  gentleman  smoking 
a  pipe  "outside  the  High  Court 
buildings,  where  his  wife  was  sentenced 
to  eight  months  imprisonment  for 
attempted  fire  raising."  The  headline 

"THE  PIPE  OP  PEACE" 
seems  to  lack  the  finer  sense  of  chivalry. 


.OCTOBER  22,  1913.]  .PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHAHIVARL  345 


Father  (nnjny).  "  THAT  APPCISTMENT  YOU  FOR30T  TO    KEEP  TO-DAY  WAS  TITS 

HATE  MADE  YOUU  CAREER.   BUT  YOU  PBEFER  TO  WASTE  YOUR  TIME  PLAYING  OOLF- 

Scn  (hurt).  "  NOT  WASTE,  FATHEB— I  WON  THIS  CRUET." 


CIIASCK    Or    A    LIFETIME,    AND    WOULD    PROBABLY 


FICTION  OM   THE   FILM. 

(.1  reflection  on  the  enormous  educational  value  of  the 
'cinematograph,  suggested  by  a  happy  hour  at  one  of 
our  siili urban  2>alaces.) 
1  HAVE  seen  the  pick  and  flower  of  the  world's  romances, 

Not  mirrorod  in  mental  imagos  faint  and  slow  ; 
Too  long  I  had  moved  in  the  midst  of  boyhood's  fancies, 

But  now  I  know ; 
I  have  seen  how  the  bioscope  stages  the  story  of  Ivankoe. 

I  have  seen  the  Templcr*  himself,  the  great  Bois  Guilbert, 
With  a  waxed  moustache  on  his  lip  like  the  KAISER'S  own, 

And  Front  de  Bcnif,  who  was  also  a  bit  of  a  filbert 

And  crowned  with  a  cone, 
Half-drunk  in  aNorman  castle  with  arches  of  Gothic  stone. 

I  have  seen  the  scutcheonless  knight  oppose  Sir  Brian 

To  the  sound  of  an  old  tin  tea-tray  beaten  "  off  "  ; 
I  have  seen  the  charger  that  carried  Richard  the  Lion; 

I  have  marked  the  trough 

That  stared  between  every  rib — I  could  almost  hear  him 
cough. 

I  hava  seen  the  rout  of  the  mail-clad  Norman  troopers 

By  llobin  Hood's  men  with  never  a  bow  to  hand, 
All  running  about  like  musical  comedy  supers 

In  time  with  the  band  ; 

I  have  seen  the  mysterious  Palmer  returned  from   the 
Who!y*  LanL 

A  podgy  young  man,  the  Palmer,  and  soft  the  quilting 
Of  tavern  l)jds,  1  wis,  on  his  homeward  way. 

*  Sic  (in  the  explanatory  notes  projcctel  on  the  screen). 


Ah,  well !  he  was  never  obliged  to  do  any  tilting ; 

The  champion's  fray 

Was  a  duel,  it  seems,  on  foot,  and  no  doubt  it  was 
cheaper  in  hay. 

These  things  have  I  seen.     I  have  seen  old  Isaac  chivied, 

Rebecca  a-top  of  a  ruinous  castle  stair, 
Her  hand,  to  her  fluttering  breast,  her  face  all  livid  : 

"  Young  man,  you  dare  I 

Hands  oSf!   or  I  fling  myself  down  on  the  courtyard 
stones,  so  there ! " 

What  need  to  tell  you  the  rest?     How,  lifting  his  visor, 

The  Disinherited  Knight  confronts  his  foe 
With  a  huge  sardonic  wink ;  I  say  I  am  wiser 

Than  long  ago. 

I  have  learnt  more  things  than  I  dreamed  of  the  drama 
of  Ivanhoe. 

But  why  stop  there  ?     Shall  only  adventurous  novels 
And  stories  of  doughty  daeds  with  an  old-time  plot 
Be  filmed  for  the  sake  of  a  mind  that  halts  and  grovels, 

And  The  Egoist  not? 

I  want  GEORGE  MEKEDITH  "  cined  t  "  as  well  as  Sir 
WALTER  SCOTT. 

I  want  to  see  Richard  Feverel  made  immortal 

With  pearls   from    the    Pilgrim's  scrip    in    a   print  of 

flames ; 
I  want  JANE  AUSTEN  starred  on  the  cinema's  portal, 

And,  name  of  all  names, 

I  want  to  sea  Albert  and  "Liza  enjoying  their  'ENEBY 
JAMES.  EVOE. 

f  American. 


346 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


"UNDER    ENTIRELY    NEW 
MANAGEMENT." 

I  KNOW  a  fool  of  a  dog  who  pretend 
that  ho  is  a  Cocker  Spaniel,  and  is 
convinced  that  tho  world  revolves 
round  him  wonderingly.  The  sun 
so  it  may  shino  on  his  glossy  morning 
coat;  it  seta  so  his  master  may  know 
that  it  is  time  for  tho  evening  l.: 
if  the  rain  falls  it  is  that  a  fool  of  r,  dog 
may  wipe  on  his  mistress's  skirt  his 
mn'ldy  boots.  His  day  is  always 
exciting,  always  full  of  the  samo  good 
things;  his  night  a  repetition  of  his 
day,  more  gloriously  developed.  If 
there  be  a  sacred  moment  before  the 
dawn  when  he  lies  awake  and  ponders 
on  life,  ho  tells  himself  confidently  that 
it  will  go  on  for  ever  like  this — a  life 
planned  nobly  for  himself,  but  one  in 
which  the  master  and  mistress  whom 
he  protects  must  always  find  a  place. 
And  I  think  perhaps  he  would  want  a 
place  for  me  too  in  that  life,  who  am 
not  his  real  master  but  yet  one  of  the 
house.  I  hope  he  would. 

What  Chum  doesn't  know  is  this : 
his  master  and  mistress  are  leaving 
him.  They  are  going  to  a  part  of  the 
world  where  a  fool  of  a  dog  with  no 
manners  is  a  nuisance.  If  Chum  could 
see  all  the  good  little  London  dogs, 
who  at  home  sit  languidly  on  their 
mistress's  lap,  and  abroad  take  their 
view  of  life  through  a  muff  much  bigger 
than  themselves;  if  he  could  see  the 
big  obedient  dogs,  who  walk  solemnly 
through  the  Park  carrying  their 
master's  stick,  never  pausing  in  their 
impressive  march  unless  it  bo  to 
plunge  into  the  Serpentine  and  rescue 
a  drowning  child,  he  would  know  what 
I  mean.  He  would  admit  that  a  dog 
who  cannot  answer  to  his  own  name 
and  pays  but  little  more  attention  to 
"Down,  idiot,"  and  "Come  here,  fool," 
is  not  every  place's  dog.  He  would 
admit  it,  if  he  had  time.  But  before  I 
could  have  called  his  attention  to  half 
the  good  dogs  I  had  marked  out  he 
would  have  sat  down  beaming  in  front 
of  a  motor-car  .  .  .  and  then  he  would 
never  have  known  what  now  he  will 
know  so  soon — that  his  master  and 
mistress  are  leaving  him. 

It  has  been  my  business  to  find  a 
new  home  for  him.  It  is  harder  than 
you  think.  I  can  make  him  sound 
lovable,  but  I  cannot  make  him  sound 
good.  Of  course  I  might  leave  out  his 
doubtful  qualities,  and  describe  him 
merely  as  beautiful  and  affectionate  ; 
I  might  ....  but  I  couldn't.  I  think 
Chum's  habitual  smile  would  get  larger, 
le  would  wriggle  the  end  of  himself 
nore  ecstatically  than  ever  if  he  heard 
limself  summed  up  as  beautiful  and 
aTeotionate.  Anyway,  I  couldn't  do 


it,  for  I  get  carried  away  when  I 
speak  of  him  and  I  reveal  all  his  bad 
qualities. 

"  I  am  afraid  ho  is  a  snob,"  I  con- 
fessed to  one  woman  of  whom  I  had 
hopes.  "  Ho  doesn't  much  care  for 
what  he  calls  the  lower  classes." 

"Oh?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  he  hates  badly  dressed  people. 
Corduroy  trousers  tied  up  at  the  knee 
always  excite  him.  I  don't  know  if 
any  of  your  family — no,  I  suppose  not. 
But  if  ho  ever  sees  a  man  with  his 
trousers  tied  up  at  tho  knee  he  goes 
for  him.  And  ho  can't  bear  trades- 
people ;  at  least  not  the  men.  Washer- 
women he  loves.  Ho  rather  likes  the 
washing-basket  too.  Once,  when  he 
was  left  alono  with  it  for  a  moment, 
he  appeared  shortly  afterwards  on  the 
lawn  with  a  pair  of — well,  I  mean 
he  had  no  business  with  them  at  all. 
We  got  them  away  after  a  bit  of  a 
chase,  and  then  they  had  to  go  to  the 
wash  again.  It  seemed  rather  a  pity 
when  they  'd  only  just  come  back.  Of 
course,  I  smacked  his  head  for  him ; 
but  he  looks  so  surprised  and  reproach- 
ful when  he's  done  wrong  that  you 
never  feel  it's  quite  his  fault." 

"  I  doubt  if  I  shall  be  able  to  take 
him  after  all,"  she  said.  "  I  've  just 
remembered  " 

I  forget  what  it  was  she  remembered, 
but  it  meant  that  I  was  still  without 
a  new  house  for  Chum. 

"  What  does  he  eat  ?  "  somebody  else 
asked  me.  It  seemed  hopeful ;  I  could 
see  Chum  already  installed. 

"Officially,"  I  said,  "he  lives  on 
puppy  biscuits ;  he  also  has  the  toast- 
crusts  after  breakfast  and  an  occasional 
bone.  Privately,  he  is  fond  of  bees. 
I  have  seen  him  eat  as  many  as  six 
bees  in  an  afternoon.  Sometimes  he 
wanders  down  to  the  kitchen-garden 
and  picks  the  gooseberries;  he  likes 
all  fruit,  but  gooseberries  are  the 
things  he  can  reach  best.  When 
there  aren't  any  gooseberries  about, 
he  has  to  be  content  with  the  hips 
and  haws  from  the  rose-trees.  But 
really  you  needn't  bother,  he  can  eat 
anything.  The  only  thing  he  doesn't 
like  is  whitening.  We  were  just  going 
to  mark  the  lawn  one  day,  and  while 
we  were  busy  pegging  it  out  he 
wandered  up  and  drank  the  whitening 
out  of  the  marker.  It  is  practically  the 
only  disappointment  he  has  ever  "had. 
He  looked  at  us,  and  you  could  see  that 
his  opinion  of  us  had  gone  down. 
'  What  did  you  put  it  there  for,  if  you 
didn't  mean  me  to  drink  it  ?  '  he  said 
reproachfully.  Then  he  turned  and 
walked  slowly  and  thoughtfully  back  to 
!iis  kennel.  He  never  came  out  till 
next  morning." 

"  Eeally  ?  "  said  my  man.     "  Well,  I 


shall  have  to  think  about  it.  I  '11  let 
you  know." 

Of  course  I  knew  what  that  meant. 

With  a  third  dog-lover  to  whom  I 
spoko  tho  negotiations  came  to  grief, 
not  apparently  because  of  any  faults 
of  Chum's,  but  because,  if  you  will 
believe  it,  of  my  own  shortcomings. 
At  least  I  can  suppose  nothing  else. 
For  this  man  had  been  enthusiastic 
about  him.  Ho  had  revelled  in  the  talc 
of  Chum's  wickedness;  ho  had  adored 
him  for  being  so  conceited.  Ho  had 
practically  said  that  he  would  take  him. 

"  Do,"  I  begged.  "  I  'm  sure  he  'd 
bo  happy  with  you.  You  see,  he  'a  not 
everybody's  dog ;  I  mean,  I  don't  want 
any  odd  man  whom  I  don't  know  to 
take  him.  It  must  be  a  friend  of  mine, 
so  that  I  shall  often  be  able  to  see 
Chum  afterwards." 

"So  that— what  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

"  So  that  I  shall  often  be  able  to  see 
Chum  afterwards.  Week-ends,  you 
know,  and  so  on.  I  couldn't  bear  to 
lose  the  silly  old  ass  altogether." 

He  looked  thoughtful ;  and,  when  I 
went  on  to  speak  about  Chum's  fond- 
ness for  chickens,  and  his  other  lovable 
ways,  he  changed  the  subject  alto- 
gether. He  wrote  afterwards  that  he 
was  sorry  he  couldn't  manage  with  a 
third  dog.  And  I  like  to  think  he  was 
not  afraid  of  Churn — but  only  of  me. 

But  I  have  found  the  right  man  at 
last.  A  day  will  come  soon  when  I  shall 
take  Chum  from  his  present  home  to 
his  new  one.  That  will  be  a  great  day 
for  him.  I  can  se3  him  in  the  train, 
wiping  his  boots  effusively  on  every  new 
passenger,  wriggling  under  the  seat  and 
out  again  from  sheer  joy  of  life ;  I 
can  see  him  in  the  taxi,  taking  his  one 
brief  impression  of  a  world  that  means 
nothing  to  him ;  I  can  see  him  in 
another  train,  joyous,  eager,  putting 
his  paws  on  my  collar  from  time  to 
time  and  saying  excitedly,  "  What  a 
day  this  is  i  "  And  if  he  survives  the 
journey;  if  I  can  keep  him  on  the  way 
from  all  the  delightful  deaths  he  longs 
to  try;  if  I  can  get  him  safely  to  his 
new  house,  then  I  can  see  him 

Well,  I  wonder.  What  will  they  do 
to  him?  When  I  sea  him  again,  will 
he  be  a  sober  little  dog,  answering  to 
his  name,  careful  to  keep  his  muddy 
feet  off  the  visitor's  trousers,  grown  up, 
obedient,  following  to  heel  round  the 
garden,  the  faithful  servant  of  his 
master?  Or  will  he  be  the  same  old 
silly  ass,  no  use  to  anybody,  always 
dirty,  always  smiling,  always  in  tho 
way,  a  clumsy,  blundering  fool  of  a  dog 
who  knows  you  can't  help  loving  him? 
I  wonder  .  .  . 

Between  ourselves,  I  don't  think  they 
can  alter  him  now  ...  Oh,  I  hope 
they  can't.  A.  A.  M. 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.]  rUNCH,    Oil   THE   LONDON'    CHAIJI  V.MiL 


347 


THE    RACE    FOR    ARMAMENTS. 

THE  FACT  THAT  TTIR  Ri:pi  nr.ic  OP  RAN  MARINO  is  AHOI'T  TO  Ann  FOI  n  nrss  TO  ITS  AKTILI.I  nv,  liitiNoj.sa  TUB  TOTAL  up  TO 

FIVE,    la   CACMKQ    A   BTIIt    AMnSii   TI1K   MINOR   I'OWKllS.      WE   I.KAUX    WITH   AITKl  .11  1  :-SION  — 


THAT  TIIE  MAHARAJAH  OF  CHOKUM  BHOTAL  HAS  BEEH  TESTING  A  DIRIGIBLE  WITH  A  VIEW  TO  PURCHASE. 


THAT  THE  NAVY  OF  BOBIOBOOLA  is  SHORTLY  TO  BE  STRENGTHENED  BY  THE  ADDITION  OF  A  SUBMARINE. 


THAT  THB  DEFENCES  OF  BAFFIN  LAND  AHB  BEING  BBOUGHT  DP  TO  DATE. 


348 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


RESOURCE. 

Motor  Cyclist.  "  QUICK!  EVAHGELINE— P/.VCH  B.isr;    THE  HORN  WON'T  WORK!" 


THE   PEOFESSOE. 

IN  one  of  the  Greak  manuscripts 
which  recently  came  to  light  in  the 
cellar  of  the  Armenian  monastery  of 
San  Lazzaro,  and  are  now  being 
patiently  deciphered  and  translated  by 
the  learned  Father  MECHIDAS,  there  is 
a  story  of  DIOGENES  which  has  not  yet 
seen  the  light.  The  venerable  scholar 
(who  recently  related  it  to  a  visitor  to 
Venice)  permits  Mr.  Punch  to  print  this 
interesting  legend. 

On  one  of  the  Cynic's  infrequent 
visits  to  Athens  curiosity  induced  him 
to  make  the  round  of  the  theatres  to 
see  how  public  taste  was  tending  and  to 
what  lengths  the  leniency  of  audiences 
[which  had  long  been  on  the  stretch) 
could  go.  He  passed  silently  and 
grimly  from  one  play  to  another,  in 
sach  finding  more  triviality  and  folly 
;han  the  last.  How  many  theatres 
there  were  the  chronicler  does  not 
say,  but  cartainly  no  fewer  than  five- 
and-twenty,  in  not  one  of  which, 
at  that  unfortunate  period,  was  any 
lign  of  pure  tragedy.  Nothing  but 
arce,  comedy  and  the  tertium  quid 


melodrama.  In  not  one  theatre  was  a 
classical  author  being  played. 

DIOGENES  passed  on  to  the  very 
numerous  singing  and  acrobatic  houses, 
and  there  he  found  chiefly  performers 
from  other  countries  in  trumpery 
medleys  of  dialogue,  music  and  dancing 
which  purported  to  ba  satirical  com- 
mentaries on  the  times  but  were 
nothing  of  the  kind.  He  was  prepared 
for  a  certain  amount  of  second-rate 
foolishness  hero  and  there ;  but  what 
struck  him  as^the  most  curious  change 
that  had  come  over  the  city  was  the 
fact  that  not  only  was  every  place  of 
entertainment  crowded,  but  everyone 
seemed  delighted  with  the  fare  that 
was  offered.  No  murmur  of  surprise 
was  heard;  no  dissentient  voice.  The 
Athenians,  in  short,  Sad  relinquished, 
under  the  influence  of  some  strange 
passion  for  beguilement,  their  ancient 
right  of  criticism. 

The  next  day  DIOGENES  was  observed 
walking  slowly  through  the  streets  of 
Athens  leading  a  goose.  Hither  and 
thither  he  wandered,  through  all  the 
principal  thoroughfares,  and  evan  up 
the  steep  rock  to  the  Parthenon  itself, 


attended  always  by  his  grotesque  com- 
panion. For  a  while  no  one  dared  ven- 
ture to  question  the  illustrious  cur- 
mudgeon. At  last  one  bolder  than  the 
rest  put  the  question.  "  What  is  the 
goose  for?"  he  asked.  "He  is  an  ex- 
cellent and  most  useful  fellow,"  replied 
the  Cynic,  "and  I  want  to  find  him 
some  pupils.  He  gives  lessons  in 
hissing." 


IN    OCTOBER. 

IN  Richmond  Park 

The  leaf  was  thinned, 
The  dusk  grew  dark, 

Loud  piped  the  wind  ; 
The  blown  West  yellowed 

A  cloud 's  torn  cloak, 
An  old  stag  bellowed 

Beneath  an  oak. 

Now  here  's  delight 
To  think  I  've  stood 

And  met  the  night 
In  a  lone  wood, 

Where  great  stags  thunder 
And  antlers  toss, 

Eight  miles — or  under—- 
From Charing  Cross. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOUER  22,  1913. 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    MOMENT. 

HODGE    IN    THE    LIMELIGHT. 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


351 


"LABBY." 

BY  TOBT,  M.P. 

IN  writing  the  Lifo  of  hia  uncle, 
ITr.NRY  LABOUCHERK,  Mr.  ALGAK 
THOHOLD  enjoyed  tho  advantage  of 
having  for  his  subject  one  of  tho  most 
interesting  men  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. Ho  has  lived  up  to  rare  oppor- 
tunity. Tho  portly  volume  presents  a 
vivid  portrait  of  tho  man  and  an  en- 
lightening record  of  his  work.  In  dis- 
criminating study  of  the  character  and 
genius  of  his  old  chief,  Mr.  BENNETT, 
who  in  succession  keeps  the  sacred 
lamp  of  Truth  burning  in  Cartaret 
Street,  arrives  at  tho  conclusion  that 
"  the  best  work  of  LABOUCHEHE'S 
lifo  was  done  as  a  journalist."  That 
life  was  so  varied  in  its  course,  so 
starred  by  conspicuous  success  in 
divers  walks,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
decide  wherein  it  reached  its  highest 
excellence.  A  scholar  at  Eton,  a 
student  at  Cambridge,  a  gambler,  a 
rout  ;  contemplating  avoidance  of 
starvation  by  accepting  a  proffered 
place  as  croupier  at  a  Monte  bank  in 
Mexico;  doorkeeper  in  a  circus;  pro- 
moted to  a  line  in  the  bill  in  the 
character  of  "The  Bounding  Buck  of 
Babylon,"  wearing  pink  tights  with  a 
filet  round  his  head,  extorting  admira- 
tion by  the  springiness  of  his  standing 
jumps ;  companion  of  Chippeway  In- 
dians hunting  buffalo;  attach&  at  several 
Embassies  in  both  hemispheres;  editor, 
newspaper  proprietor,  lessee  of  a 
theatre,  friend  of  BISMARCK,  Member 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  on  conversa- 
tional terms  with  PADDY  GREEN  in  the 
palmy  days  of  EVANS'S,  later  admitted 
to  tho  intimacy  of  Mr.  GLADSTONE — 
here  is  a  career  more  nearly  recalling 
chapters  of  Monte  Cristo  than  the  annals 
of  a  rate-paying  resident  in  Old  Palace 
Yard,  Westminster. 

The  universality  of  LABOUCHEHE'S 
character  was  testified  to  by  the  range 
of  his  correspondents.  Tho  bursting 
over  political  parties  of  the  thunder- 
bolt of  Home  Rule,  directed  by  the  hand 
of  Mr.  GLADSTONE  in  1886,  created  pro- 
found, in  many  places  irreparable,  rents 
in  ancient  friendships.  Absolutely 
devoid  of  feeling  of  resentment  (save 
in  one  case)  "  LABBY  "  preserved  all  his 
old  intimacies.  Not  the  least  interest- 
ing chapters  of  a  book  of  high  historical 
value  are  those  devoted  to  reproduction 
of  his  correspondence  in  1885-6.  He 
was  a  sort  of  friendly,  convenient, 
pillar-box  into  which  men  taking  a 
hand  in  a  critical  game  of  politics 
dropped  their  missives.  A  strange 
conglomeration  it  was.  Amongst  the 
contributors  were  Lord  EOSEBERY, 
RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL,  HERBERT 
GLADSTONE  (on  behalf  of  his  father), 


ANOTHER    TRIUMPH    FOR    THE    SEX. 

Indignant  Wife  (whose  repeated  assurances  03  to   her  liusband's  sobriety  and  general 
respectability  Jiave  been  totally  ignored  by  the  police,  comforting  herself  with  a  parting  shot). 

"MlND  TEB  PURSE,   ElLL  1  " 


CHARLES  DILKE,  JOHN  MORLEY,  PAR- 
NELL,  TIM  HEALY,  DAVITT,  and,  above 
all,  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN. 

The  only  notable  exception  to  the 
confidences  bestowed  upon  LABOUCHEHE 
throughout  the  manoeuvring  that  ended 
in  the  rejection  of  the  Home  Rule  Bill, 
the  rout  of  Mr.  GLADSTONE  and  the 
rending  in  pieces  of  the  party  he  had 
long  been  accustomed  to  lead  to 
triumph,  was  Lord  HARTINGTON.  He 
did  not  seem  to  take  to  "  LABBY'S  " 
playful  way  of  dealing  with  Imperial 
politics. 

Up  to  the  Spring  of  1886  the  rela- 
tions between  LABOUCHERE  and  Mr. 
CHAMBERLAIN  were  of  the  closest  in- 
timacy. Confidential  letters  daily  passed 
between  them,  sometimes  twice  a  day. 


LABOUCHERE  set  himself  tho  task  of 
avoiding  disaster  to  the  Liberal  Party, 
to  his  clear  political  insight  a  result 
inevitable  if  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN  were 
permitted  to  withdraw  from  its  councils. 
He  was  within  an  ace  of  succeeding. 
Through  the  medium  of  letters  chiefly 
passing  between  LABOUCHERE  and  Mr. 
CHAMBERLAIN,  Mr.  THOROLD  sets  forth 
the  story  up  to  the  fateful  day  appointed 
for  the  Second  Reading  of  the  Home 
Rule  Bill.  Possibly  because  the  nar- 
rative was  earlier  continued  elsewhere 
he  stops  there.  It  was  LABOUCHERE 
himself  who  completed  it  in  a  letter 
addressed  to  me  dated  from  Old  Palace 
Yard,  5th  April,  1898. 

Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN'S  main  objection 
to  the  Bill  of  1886  was  the  proposed 


352 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


'[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


exclusion  of  Irish  Members  from  West- 
minster. Had  this  heen  dropped  ho 
would  have  refrained  from  joining  the 
Conservative  party  and  the  history  of 
1  '.it-land  for  the  next  thirty  years  would 
have  !);•:•!)  written  in  altered  characters. 

On  the  Saturday  night  precsding 
Ci i.  \!>STON F.'S  speech  winding  up  debate 
on  the  Second  Beading,  "  LAUBY,"  a 
fatigued  by  his  patriotic  efforts, 
withdrew  for  a"  brief  peiiod  of  well- 
earned  rest,  comforted  by  assurance 
that  Monday  night  would  see  his  labours 
crowned  with  success.  When  Monday 
came  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN,  CAINE  and 
others  in  the  secret,  sat  expectant  whilst 
GLADSTONE  spoke,  waiting  for  the  words 
that  would  re-establish  unity.  For 
reasons  never  understood,  certainly 
never  publicly  explained,  they  were  not 
spoken.  LABOUCHERE, 
dismayed  and  despair- 
ing, turned  round  to 
CAINE  seated  on  a 
bench  behind  and  said, 
"  What  a  thimble  - 
rigger  the  Old  Man 
is!" 

Having  at  this  epoch 
been  dragged  into  the 
vortex  of  Parliamentary 
conflict,  "LABBY" 
thereafter  for  some 
years  devoted  himself 
to  the  game  with  en- 
thusiasm equal  to  that 
with  which  in  early 
manhood  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  gambling  at 
Homburg  and  else- 
where. At  the  outset, 
content  to  amuse  the 
House  of  Commons 


contributed  to  the  end  brought  about 
by  the  Qeneral  Election  of  1892.  The 
spoils  to  the  victor.  It  was  antici- 
pated, by  none  more  surely  than  by 
f JABOUCHEKK,  that  he  would  receive  at' 
Mr.  GLADSTONE'S  hands  Cabinet  office. 
For  personal  reasons  in  high  quarters, 
about  which" IiAUBY's".own  testimony, 
cited  by  Mr.  THOROLD,  leaves  no  doubt, 
his  claims  were  overlooked.  Another 
disappointment  not  less  bitter  befell  him, 
a  few  years  later,  when,  a  vacancy  occur- 
ring in  Ministerial  post  at  Washington, 
he  turned  his  eyes  wistfully  towards  the 
appointment.  Its  withholding  was  the 
final  blow  to  his  Parliamentary  ambi- 
tion. Some  men  thus  treated  would 
have  taken  their  revenge  by  turning 
and  biting  the  hand  that  repulsed  them. 
"  LABBY  "  would  have  been  welcomed 


HOW  TO  UTILISE  A  POOR  RELATION. 
MAKE  HIM  \VOKK  THB  TABLE  FOUNTAIN. 


with  persiflage  casually  introduced  into 
debate,  he  became  constant  in  attend- 
ance, frequent  in  speech-making.  An 
incentive  to  this  new  departure  was  the 
bitterness  of  his  resentment  against  his 
old  friend  and  companion  dear,  now  a 
pillar  of  strength  in  a  Cabinet  presided 
over  by  Lord  SALISBURY.  As  a  rule,  he 
had  no  personal  resentments.  Sublimely 
imperturbable,  he  lived  in  a  serene 
atmosphere  undisturbed  by  what  any- 
body said,  did,  or  thought  about  his 
actions  or  his  motives.  He  made  up 
for  this  indifference  by  concentrated 
hostility  to  the  statesman  he  in  1886 
was  accustomed  to  address  as  "  My 
dear  Chamberlain,"  whom  he  now 
invariably  alluded  to  as  "Joe,"  import- 
ing into  the  monosyllable  an  indescrib- 
able note  of  half-amused  scorn  and 
reprobation.  Since  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN 
was  a  member  of  the  Conservative 
Government  the  more  urgent  was  the 
call  to  wreck  it. 

No  one  more  effectively  than  "the 
Christian  Member  for  Northampton" 


on  the  Conservative  side  in  the  familiar 
character  of  the  Candid  Friend.  He 
had  in  fullest  possession  the  qualities 
that  would  have  made  him  a  dangerous 
enemy  on  the  flanks  of  the  Leaders  of 
the  Liberal  Party  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  That  however  was  not 
his  way.  Towards  the  end  of  a 
long  life's  labour  he  was  growing 
tired.  His  indomitable  spirit  was  a 
little  soured  by  repeated  disappoint- 
ments. But  he  was  .faithful  to  the  end, 
voting  steadily  with  his  Party  and, 
when  necessary,  coming  to  their  help 
with  still  sparkling  speech. 

Unexpectedly  abandoning  his  throne 
in  the  Smoking-Koom  of  the  Eeform 
Club,  round  which  would  gather  a  rapt 
circle  of  listeners,  quitting  his  cherished 
companionship  with  the  House  of 
Commons,  he  retired  to  Florence,  where 
for  a  few  years  he  lived  surrounded  by 
"  that  which  should  accompany  old 
age,  as  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops 
of  friends." 

In  the  touching  language  of  his  bio- 


grapher, "as  simply  as  a  child  tired 
with  play  ha  took  to  his  bed  on  the 
llth  January  and  did  not  get  up  again. 
He  died  peacefully  at  midnight  on 
January  15th,  1912." 

"  LABBY  "  never  fussed  about  any- 
thing, not  even  about  dying. 

THE  PEPPER  POTS. 

ONE  of  the  most  ingenious  of  the 
many  labour-saving  appliances  which 
are  now  on  the  market  is  the  little  set  of 
pepper-boxes  for  sub-editors  which  an 
astute  watcher  of  the  literary  skies  has 
invented. 

Like  all  the  great  inventions — as  the 
clichA  has  it— it  is  very  simple.  l?ut 
he  shall  describe  it  in  his  own  words 
as  spoken  to  one  of  our  representatives 
a  day  or  so  ago. 

"My  invention," said 
Mr.  Travis,  who  is  a 
bright  -  looking  young 
man  with  a  bald"  head 
and  a  faint  American 
accent,  "  you  want  to 
know  about  that?  Well, 
I  '11  tell  you.  I  have 
always  been  a  great 
newspaper  reader,  and 
I  noticed,  as  every  one 
else  must  have  done, 
that  there  is  a  deadly 
monotony  about  the  re- 
views of  new  novels,  or, 
to  put  it  another  way, 
there  is  a  deadly  mon- 
otony about  the  output 
of  old  novelists.  It  is 
the  same  with  play- 
wrights and  public 
speakers  :  aftsr  a  while 


they  are,  with  very  few  exceptions,  all 
true  to  type.  It  follows  then  that  any 
description  of  their  latest  efforts  must 
bear  similarity  to  the  description  of  their 
previous  efforts.  Yet  these  descriptions 
— or  criticisms  if  you  like — must  always 
be  written  afresh  and  the  writers  paid. 
My  idea  was  at  ono  blow  to  do  away 
with  much  of  the  expense  of  the  news- 
paper and  at  the  same  time  provide 
the  reader  with  authentic  impressions. 
How  do  I  do  it  ?  With  my  pepper-pois. 
"  I  '11  give  you  an  example.  A  new 
play  by  Mr.  GALSWORTHY  comes  out. 
The  statement  that  it  was  produced 
last  night  can  be  prepared  by  any  one 
in  the  office,  or  I  am  ready  to  supply 
a  flexible  framework  of  this  kind  to  lit 
any  play  or  any  book  or  any  speech  by 
anybody  on  the  list.  Certain  spaces 
for  adjectives  are  left  blank.  It  is  then 
that  the  pepper-box  comes  in.  If  it 
is  a  GALSWORTHY  play  the  sub-editor 
takes  the  pepper-pot  bearing  his  niuiie 
and  sprinkles  the  paper  with  it,  and 
straightway  the  gaps  are  filled  up  with 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OH   THK    LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


353 


such  words  as  'sincere,'  'restrained,' 
•characteristic,'  'dignified,'  'thoughtful,' 
•restrained,'  'thoughtful,'  '  dignifi<  d,' 
'sincere';  and  the  criticism  is  complete. 

"Or  Mr.  SHAW.  Then  the  (1.15.  S. 
r-pot  is  employed,  and  out  tum- 
ble 'Shavian,'  '  audacious,'  'Shavian,' 
'startling,' '  characteristic,' '  witty,'  'in- 
cisive,' '  Shavian  '  and  all  the  rest  of  it. 

"  A  book  by  Mr.  CHKSTEKTON  puts 
the  G.  K.  C.  pepper-pot  into  action,  and 
,c  •  paradoxical,' '  good-humoured,' 
•  Falstaffian,' '  characteristic,'  'paradoxi- 
cal,' '  paradoxical,'  '  topsy  -  turvy,' 
[wrong-headed  hut  genial,'  'paradoxi- 
cal,' 'topsy-turvy,'  'paradoxical,'  'para- 
doxical.' You  see  the  idea  ?  " 

Our  representative  said  he  saw  it 
perfectly,  but  he  could  not  admire  any 
scheme  which  substituted  a  mechanical 
device  for  good  Fleet  Street  brains. 

"  Hut  what 's  the  use  of  setting  brains 
to  such  tasks  as  this,"  Mr.  Travis 
asKc  I,  "  when  all  that  they  have  to  do 
is  to  provide  paraphrases  of  what  was 
written  before?  Why  waste  a  man's 
time  on  re-re-re-writing  about  a  re-re- 
re-written  book  or  play  ?  " 

"  We  won't  argue  about  it,"  said  our 
representative.  "  Give  me  some  more 
examples." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Travis,  "  here 's 
the  Mrs.  HUMPHRY  WARD  pepper-pot," 
and  he  shook  over  the  table  "  calm," 
"measured,"  "  studious,"  "  understand- 
ing," "  characteristic,"  "  sympathetic," 
"calm,"  "studious,"  "measured,"  "se- 
rene," "  calm." 

"  Here 's  another — you  must  guess  the 
author ;  "  and  "  melodramatic,"  "  stri- 
dent," "passionate,"  "melodramatic," 
"characteristic,"  "  noisy,"  "  theatrical," 
"  chromo  -  lithographic,"  "  strident  " 
were  scattered  out. 

"  You  can't  deny  it 's  a  clever  no- 
tion ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  our  representative  replied, 
"it's  certainly  clever,  confound  you. 
But  have  you  a  pepper-pot  for  every 
one?  " 

"No,"  he  said,  "  there  are  one  or  two 
I  can't  fix  up  for  certain.  There  's  one 
literary  man  and  several  politicians. 
It  wouldn't  be  safe  to  have  a  pepper- 
pot  for  them.  At  least  not  yet." 

"Mayn't  I  know  their  names?"  our 
representative  asked. 

"  Not  from  me,"  said  Mr.  Travis, 
closing  the  interview.  "  You  must 
guess." 

"  Mr.  George  Yates,  who  has  been  secretary 
of  tho  Bury  Central  Conservative  Club  for 
20  years,  has  resigned  owing  to  advancing 
years.  mr.  Yates  has  been  a  member  of  the 
club  since  liis  formation  34  years  ago." 

Daily  Dispatch. 

Mr.  YATES'S  appointment  to  the  secre- 
taryship at  the  ago  of  14  must  have 
caused  surprise. 


THE    TWO    DINNERS. 

SCENE—  Tlte  Majestic  Hotel. 
"DBAGOOS  GUARDS  OB  PEACE  SOCIETY,  Sin?" 


FINIS. 

LAST  month  I  thought  that  we  had  said 

Goodbye 

For  ever  and  a  day,  nor  dreamed  that  I, 
October  come,  should  hold  you  in  my! 

g»P. 

Still  doting  on  our  sweet  companion- 
ship; 

That   May-day  walk — our  first;   that 
Devon  lane ; 

That  riverside  in  June  with  just  us 
twain ; 

That  Scenic  Railway  where  one  July 
night 

I  was  obliged  to  squeeze  you  rather 
tight; 


Those  lazy  August  mornings  when  you 

lay 

Upon  the  sands  beside  me ;  that  sad  day 
When,    bathed    in    mid  -  September's 

mellow  sheen, 
I  fell  a-wondering  whether  you  would 

clean. 
Goodbye    again ;    for   such   the    fears 

whereat 
Love  flutters   off — like  you,  my  dear 

Straw  Hat. 


"SHILLINGS  WANTED. 

BEMABKABLE  APPEAL  TO   BUBY   FOOTBALL 
FOLLOWEBS." 

Daily  Mail. 
We  would  sooner  bury  football  writers. 


354 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


ONE    TOUCH    OF    NATURE. 

DEAR  Mit.  Prxcn, — As  to  the  clerks 
of  the  Inland  Revenue,  or  whatever  it 
may   he,  with   whom    all  of  us   have 
M  in  correspondence  at  one  time  or 
another,  they  are   not  what   they  are 
supposed  to  be.     You  know  the  sort  of 
correspondence  I  mean  :  the  righteously 
indignant   on    the   one   side    and    the 
coldly  pedantic  on  the  other — the  sort 
of  letter-writing   in   which   you   score 
all  the  points  at  first  but  the  clerk  gets 
his  postal  order  in  the  end.     It  is  no 
generally  known  that  these  clerks  are 
by  nature  insn  and  not  machines,  anc 
it  will  be  scarcely  believed  that  they 
ruthlessly  oppressive   as   they   aro   in 
their  demands,  have  their  off-momenti 
when  they  are  positively  human.    Such 
has  been  my  recent  discovery. 

The  controversy,  a  lengthy  one,  con- 
cerned itself  with  the  matter  of  a  dog  that 
had  everything  a  dog  could  want  except 
a  licence.  I  will  not  trouble  you  wit! 
tha  details,  since  you  had  a  dog-licence 
case  in  your  pages  a  little  while  ago 
and  may  be  tired  of  the  subject,  but 
will  admit  to  you  at  once,  what  I  ad- 
mitted to  the  clerk  bit  by  bit,  that  the 
law  was  undoubtedly  on  his  side,  and 
I  was  prepared  to  obey  it  eventually, 
when  I  had  had  my  till  of  heated 
dialectics.  You  will  readily  believe 
that  I  got  the  best  of  all  the  repartee 
from  start  to  finish,  and  that  1  thought 
of  some  unanswerable  arguments  for 
the  abolition  of  clerks  in  general  and 
Eevenue  clerks  in  particular ;  in  short, 
that  I  succeeded,  as  all  of  us  do  succeed, 
in  making  the  fellow  sit  up  before  I 
climbed  down.  So  long  as  the  battle 
was  waged  in  his  territory  1  won  all 
the  way  (except  as  to  the  booty),  but 
when  he  came  out  of  his  defences 
ind  took  me  on  in  my  own  country 
tie  showed  an  entirely  unsuspected 
lumanity  which,  I  must  confess,  de- 
'eated  me  utterly. 

My  country  is  Edgbaston,  where  I, 
together  with  many  .others  whose  work 
lies  in  Birmingham,  live.  If  we  spend 
the  most  of  our  day  in  that  city  we 
prefer  in  our  late  evenings  and  early 
mornings  to  forget  its  existence ;  what- 
ever we  may  be  when  at  work,  in  our 
leisure  we  are  of  Edgbaston  and  by  no 
means  of  Brummagem.  Yet  that  clerk 
would  persist  in  addressing  me  at 
"  Edgbaston,  Birmingham."  Having 
suffered  several  envelopes  so  addressed 
there  came  a  time  when  I  could  bear  it 
no  longer,  and  I  demanded  that  the 
offence  should  be  withdrawn,  failing 
which  I  should  instruct  my  solicitors  to 
take  proceedings.  To  describe  Edgbas- 


tho  10th  inst.  and  your  observations  re, 
Edgbaston  noted,"  and  addressed  that 
envelope  to  "Edgbaston,  near  Birming- 
ham." Though  I  resented  t,\te"near" 
almost  as  much  as  the  original  sin  he 
refused  to  budge  from  his  attitude,  and 
up  to  the  very  end  so  addressed  me. 

When  the  correspondence  was  draw- 
ing to  a  close  and  the  time  had  come 
to  pay  I  enclosed  my  cheque,  and  in  a 
covering  letter  spoke  more  frankly  to 
that  clork  than  he  ov  any  colleague  of 
his  had  ever,  I  am  sure,  been  spoken  to 
bsfore.  Which  done,  I  commanded  him 
to  send  mo  merely  a  formal  receipt  for 
the  money  and  never  to  address  a  word 
to  1113  again.  In  duo  course  the  receipt 
arrived,  accompanied  by  no  letter  in 
reply  to  mine,  and  the  envelope  it  cam 
in  was  addresser!,  "  Horatius  John- 
son, Esq., '  The  Pines,'  Edgbaston,  very 
near  Birmingham." 

Following  a  lengthy  period  of  frigid 
politeness,  that  one  toucli  of  red-hot 
tempor,  Sir,  wrought  such  a  change  in 
my  feelings  to  the  man  that  I  wrote 
forthwith,  begging  permission  to  Call  on 
him  when  next  I  came  to  London,  and 
asking  him  meanwhile  to  accept  as  a 
small  present  from  an  admiring  friend 
the  dog  in  dispute,  which  I  was  for- 
warding under  separate  cover. 

Yours  faithfully, 

H.  JOIIXSON. 


A    BRILLIANT    PHANTASY. 

IT  often  happens  that  I  am  asked  out 
for  the  evening — music  or  what  not — 
and  accept  "  with  pleasure,"  because  it 
is  so  much  easier  than  refusing.  Very 
well  then.  When  the  day  comes,  I 
wish  I  hadn't.  I  arrive  home  to  dinner 
on  the  night  and  fesl  I  don't  want  to 
turn  out  at  all.  By  the  time  dinner  is 
I  am  really  angry.  I  leave  the 
bouse  in  a  bad  temper;  reach  the  house 
of  my  hosts  in  that  condition,  and  pass 
a  thoroughly  enjoyable  evening. 
-  This  has  occurred  not  once,  not  twice, 
aut  several  times.  , 

Last  Monday  I  made  a  casual  arrange- 
ment to  drop  in  at  the  Penbys  on  Wed- 
nesday after  dinner. 

On  the  morning  1  arose  with  a  weight 
on  my  mind. 

"What  is  it?"  I  thought. 

With  the  cold  bath,  my  brain  cleared, 
and  I  remembered;   we  had  to  go  to 
he  Penbys. 

"  Dash  !  "  I  said. 

The  rest  of  the  day  calls  for  no  com- 
ment. It  passed. 

On  my  way  home  I  suddenly  had  an 
dea.  Once  at  the  Penbys  I  should 


probably  enjoy  myself.    It  was  the  fact 
on  as  Birmingham,  as  I  pointed  out,   of  having  to  go  that  was  worrying  me. 
was  a  cruel   and   calculated   lie.      He  '  So  I  reasoned  with  myself, 
responded  with  a  "  Yours  to  hand  of  1      At  dinner  I  confided  it  to  Edith. 


"  What  we  must  do,"  I  said,  "is  to 
imagine  we  're  not  going  out.  After 
dinner  wo  sit  quietly  by  the  fire.  Then 
I  suddenly  decide  to  take  a  stroll.  You 
join  me,  and  we  happen  to  pass  the 
Penbys.  '  Let  us  turn  in  here,'  I  say ; 
and  there  we  are." 

Edith  looked  at  me  compassionately. 
"If  it  amuses  you,  I  don't  mind,''  she 
said;  "but  in  the  first  place  the  draw- 
ing-room fire  isn't  being  kept  in,  and 
in  the  second  place  I  'in  not  doing  any 
strolling;  I  've  ordered  a  taxi." 

That,  as  I  explained,  was  mere 
quibbling.  As  long  as  we  maintained 
the  right  spirit  all  would  be  well. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Edith  made 
things  very^difiicult  for  me.  She  gave 
the  in  aids  audible  instructions  not  to 
wait  up  for  us,  and  enquired  twice 
about  the  latchkey. 

I  set  my  teeth  and  acted  magnifi- 
cently. 

When  the  taxi  drove  up  I  was 
reading. 

"  Hello  !  what 's  this  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 
"  A  taxi  ride  ?  " 

"Don't  be  silly,"  said  Edith;  "have 
you  got  the  key  ?  " 

Half-way  down  the  drive  I  sat  up 
quickly. 

"  By  George,"  I  said,  "  why  not  call 
on  tli3  Penbys?  They're  often  asking 
us  to  drop  in." 

I  seized  the  speaking  -  tube  and 
whispered  the  address  to  the  driver. 
He  nodded  rather  brusquely. 

As  we  drove  up  to  the  house  I  sur- 
passed myself.  "I  wonder  if  they'll 
be  in," -I  said. 

Curiously  enough  they  were  not. 
Somehow  I  had  misunderstood  Penby; 
the  invitation  was  for  quite  a  different 
evening. 

The  Crimes  of  the  Pheasant. 

To  the  Editor  of  "Punch." 
SIR, — Is  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE  sure 
that  the  outrages  perpetrated  by  this 
voracious  bird  are  confined  to  attacks 
upon  mangold-wurzels  and  the  whole- 
sale destruction  of  all  kinds  of  crops  ? 

There  may  be  possibly  some  ground 
for  the  recent  report  that  this  rascally 
creature  is  now  emulating  the  infamous 
exploits  of  the  eagle  in  carrying  off 
lambs  and  even  young  children. 

In  the  latter  case,  might  not  this 
account  to  some  extent  for  the  growing 
depopulation  of  the  countryside  ? 

Yours,  &c.,  BEDFORDIAX. 

HOND.  Zun, — I  catched  a  feasant 
t'other  noight  in  rabbart  gin,  and  lie 
was  smellin'  that  strong  of  turmits 
thet  I  was  only  jest  in  toiaio  to  stop 
our  cow  from  aitin'  of  'en. 
Yours  respectful, 

DARTMOOR  SHEPHERD. 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


355 


"AjCOTHCB   BROKEN   PLATE,   MnS.    BlGGS?" 

"YES,  SIB.     IT  SEKMS  TO  ME  THAT  so  MUCH  WASHING  MAKES  THE  CHINA  BIIITTLE-I.IKE." 


A   SPASM  OF  GRATITUDE. 

HE  was  reading  the  paper  while 
crossing  Fleet  Street.  He  had  got  to 
a  paragraph  about  the  Lion  Sermon, 
which  had  baen  preached  on  the  pre- 
vious day  in  a  City  c'.mrch  in  memory 
of  a  17th  century  Lord  Mayor  who 
was  saved  from  a  lion  in  the  Arabian 
desert.  There  was  a  hoarse  shout,  a 
hind  grabbed  him  and  dragged  him 
bao'c,  a  motor-bus  thundered  by,  and  a 
polbeman  said,  "Another  inch,  Sir, 
and  you  'd  have  been  under  it."  "  Near 
go,"  said  a  postman.  After  similar 
remarks  from  the  crowd,  he  began  to 
realise  that  he  had  narrowly  escaped  a 
nasty  death. 

He  walked  very  solemnly  along  tho 
pavement  near  to  the  wall.  "  I  will," 
he  said — "  I  will  institute  a  Motor-bus 
Sermon."  It  seemed  to  be  the  least  he 
could  do. 

It  did  occur  to  him  a  little  later  that 
sermons  are  not  so  popular  nowadays 
as  they  used  to  be;  and  it  was  while 
waiting  for  his  train  that  the  idea  of 
an  organ  recital  instead  occurred  to 
him.  It  would  ba  the  more  suitable 
because  he,  the  founder,  was  fond  of 
musio.  Yes,  it  should  be  a  musical 
event  that  he  would  endow.  One- had 


to  remember,  of  course,  that  organ 
recitals  appeal  to  rather  a  restricted 
class;  that  point  required  consideration. 
By  the  time  the  train  reached  St. 
James's  Park  ho  was  beginning  to 
feel  that  a  combination  of  a  kind  of 
Morality  play  with  good  music  would 
be  just  the  thing. 

Such  a  play  might  be  more  expensive, 
perhaps,  than  an  organ  recital ;  he 
would  not  like  to  begin  any  memorial 
that  would  bff  too  costly  to  continue. 
Ha  must  remember  that  he  was  not 
roaHy  wealthy.  Another  idea  that 
came  to  him,  after  leaving  Earl's  Court, 
was  that  a  refined  literary  -  musical 
recital,  by  a  really  capable  performer, 
would  present  less  difficulties. 

Anything  he  decided  upon  must 
necessarily  cost  money.  He  did  not 
mind  that  so  very  much  ;  but  there 
would  be  legal  formalities  to  be  ob- 
served, so  that  the  thing  should  be  on 
a  proper  footing,  and  every  year  there 
would  bo  the  difficulty  of  choosing  the 
right  person  to  do  whatever  thing  he 
decided  upon  (if  he  should  decide)  to 
mark  his  gratitude. 

Then  again,  if  one  faced  the  thing 
squarely  and  without  sentimentality, 
this  endowment  business  was  not  with- 
out objections.  Would  it  not  be  better, 


he  wondered,  to  give  a,  donation  to  some 
charitable  object  instead  of  saddling 
posterity  with  an  annual  event  whose 
interest,  if  pious,  would  be  remote  ? 
In  any  case,  he  would  think  it  over 
and  decide  in  a  few  days. 

Humming  a  little  tune,  he  was 
leaving  the  station  when  he  hesitated. 
He  had  been  thinking  of  music;  an 
idea  struck  him.  He  had  nothing 
particular  to  do  that  night,  and  he 
knew  his  wife  had  no  engagement.  He 
stepped  lightly  into  a  telephone  call-box. 
"  Hullo !  That  the  Gaiety  ?  Have  you 
two  good  stalls  for  to-night?"  he  asked. 


"  After  somewhat  unguarded  language  used 
by  Mr.  Churchill  in  an  otherwise  admirable 
speech  in  Scotland,  wo  are  glad  to  have  the 
assurance  of  our  Parliamentary  Correspondent 
that  the  Cabinet  are  firmly  resolved  to  treat 
Ireland  as  oue  and  indivisible." 

Daily  Chroniclf. 
The  real  authority. 


"A  Soul  building  other  worlds  seeks  corre- 
spondents."— Advt.  in  "  T.P.'s  Weekly." 

Extract  from  the  first  letter  :  "  DEAR 
SIR, — In  answer  to  your  advertisement 
I  beg  to  say  that  I  am  now  in  a  position 
to  lend  sums  from  £10  to  £10,000  on 
note  of  hand  alone,  no  further  security 
being  required  .  .  ." 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  22.  1913. 


AT  THE   PLAY. 

1  PEOPLE  LIKE  OURSELVES." 
IT  is  perhaps  a  little  lato  in  the  clay 


out  a  cancelling  note,  alleging  the  death 
of  a  young  relative  in  Australia. 

This  gave  promise  of  a  rich  vein  of 


But  he  did  not  quite  do  himself  justice. 
He  had  many  difficulties  to  face  and 
they  seemed  to  force  him  back  into  his 


farce,  for  nothing  could  be  more  certain  i  old  habit  of  jerkiness.     Mr.  FREDERICK 


to    represent    the   Chorus   Girl    as    a  than  that  the  Colonial  would  give  them  \  KEBB,  older  than  his  wont,  was  very 
pattern   of   all   the   virtues.     But    her  away  by  turning  up.     He  did ;  but  the :  perfect  as  Sir  Joseph  JiMlc,  but   the 


li'it'.'st'cluuniiion.Mr.VANSiTTAiiT.isnot  diversion  was  very  brief  and  we  were 

to   be   put   off    by   the   fact   that   his  soon  back  on  the  old  trail. 

His       But  there  were  other  distractions — 

lie  notably  some  rather  pleasant  mots  dis- 


dumscl  was  never  in  less  distress, 
methods  are  of  the  most  guileless. 


part  lacked  variety  and  the  good  things 
did  not  come  his  way.  I  make  exception 
however  of  one  bright  thought  that 
occurred  to  the  Eadical  Knight.  He 
stipulated  that  his  contribution  to  the 


party  funds  should  be  invested  in  his 


places  her  among  a  second-rate  set  of  tributed   impartially  among  the 

people,  and  then  invites  you  to  observe  pany.      Perhaps  the  best  remark  fell  . 

how  star-like  she  shines  among  these  ,  to  Lady  Juttlc,  whoso  motherly  instincts  own  firm.  Miss  LOTTIE  VENNE  was  his 
lower  creatures.  He  is  careful  not  to  were  more  concerned  for  her  boy's  lady,  and  I  have  never  seen  her  in  better 
admit  a  single  excellence  among  the  comfort  than  for  his  loyalty  to  Radical  form.  She  played  with  exceptional  re- 
whole  menagerie.  You  have  a  self- !  principles.  "I  don't  care,"  she  said,  straint,  _steadily  refusing  to  slip  into 
made  knight"  with  his  lady,  climbers  /'  on  which  side  of  the  House  he  sits  so  farce. 
both;  you  have  their  son, 


you   have  tneir  son,  in  a 

crack  cavalry  regiment,"  with  a 
record  of  dirty  work  to  his  name  ; 
you  have  a  guardsman  (Old  Eton- 
ian) with  the  manuersof  a  hog ;  you 
have  a  South  American  adven- 
turer with  no  morals;  a  noisy 
politician  with  an  eye  for  the 
party  funds;  and,  for  the  rest,  an 
unspeakable  crew  of  snobs  who 
condescend  to  take  the  hospi- 
tality of  the  parvenus  for  the  sake 
of  the  chorus  girl's  society  or 
anything  else  they  can  get.  You 
will  guess  that  she  doesn't  need 
to  be  very  noble  to  stand  out  in 
pretty  sharp  relief  against  such  a 
background. 

Indeed,  she  is  almost  super- 
fluously admirable.  For  love  of 
the  shady  soldier  she  forces  her 
way  into  the  heart  of  his  mother 
(a  dear,  vulgar,  old  soul)  by  intro- 
ducing a  few  titled  undesirables 
into  her  very  domestic  menage ; _ 


she  gets  her  man  into  Parliament 

against  his  will;  she  secures  for 

hisfather(sadlyprejudicedagainst  Vivienne  Vavasour 

thestage)acontractforarmanients  Mervyn  Juttle 

from  the  South  American  adventurer ;  I  long  as  he  isn't  in  a  draught!"     The 


A  CAVALRY  ENGAGEMENT. 

Miss  ETHEL  WARWICK. 
Mr.  KENNETH  DOUGLAS. 


and  from  the  same  villain  she  abstracts 
(by  threatening  him  with  a  bottle  of 
smelling-salts  which  he  takes  for 
vitriol)  certain  compromising  docu- 
ments which  might  have  landed  her 
lover  in  gaol ;  and  finally  she  gets  per- 
mission to  marry  this  hopeless  object. 


son's  own  attitude  towards  parlia- 
mentary life  was  also  very  fresh.  He 
loathed  the  idea  of  being  shot  into 
what  he  regarded  as  a  monkey-house, 
and  did  his  best  to  lose  the  election  by 
telling  his  supporters  just  what  he 
thought  of  them.  Unfortunately  this 


Well  might  she  say  to  his  parents,  as  only   gave   him    a   name   for    original 
she   does   with    the    utmost   candour,  I  candour,  which  followed  him  into  the 


"  I  'm  the  only  live  person  you  've  ever 


met." 
There 


was   a   moment   in  the  play 


to  be  drawn 
chorus  girl's 


across 
career. 


when  it  looked  as  if  a  red  herring  was 
the  trail  of  the 
S«>  Joseph  and 

Lady  Juttle  had  arranged  to  give  a 
dance  for  their  Queen's  Gate  circle,  and 
when  Miss  Vivienne  Vavasour  proposed 
to  convert  this  entertainment  into  a 
dinner  for  her  Society  friends,  some 
excuse  had  to  be  found  for  Kensington. 


House.  Waking  up,  dazed  with  the 
sleep  of  boredom,  he  would  often  wander 
into  the  wrong  Lobby,  and  thus  confirm 
his  reputation  as  a  free-lance  who 
would  have  to  be  reckoned  with.  This 
was  very  pleasant  fooling,  and  alto- 
gether Mr.  VANSITTART'S  humour  was 
rather  refreshing,  though  now  and 
then  we  may  have  felt  that  we  had 
been  there  before. 

You    would    have    said    that    Mr. 
KENNETH  DOUGLAS  was  just  the  man 


So  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  send  |  for  this  part  of  a  politician  malgre  lui. 


There  was  something  very  hu 
man  in  her  vulgarity,  and  at  times 
she  was  almost  pathetic  in  the 
loneliness  of  her  widening  sphere. 
My  acquaintance  with  the  emis- 
saries of  South  American  Repub- 
lics is  so  limited  that  I  cannot  say 
whether  Mr.  GEEALD  LAWRENCE'S 
oiled  and  curled  Larjucra  was 
true  to  type.  But  the  voluptuous 
pink-puce  dressing-suit,  with  the 
generous  chest-protector,  leads 
me  to  infer  that  fantasy  had  boon 
at  work  in  this  exotic  picture. 

Miss  ETHEL  WARWICK  as 
Vivienne  Vavasour  found,  at  last, 
a  part  to  suit  her.  As  the  "  one 
live  parson  "  in  the  play  she  had 
so  much  managing  to  do  that  she 
found  less  time  than  usual  for 
letting  her  voice  go  wrong.  Yet 
I  had  often  to  agree  with  Lady 
Juttle  where  she  says  of  her, 
"  How  oddly  she  talks  !  "  not,  of 
course,  meaning  what  I  mean. 
She  was  still  too  hard  and  sudden ; 
but  one  seemed  now  and  then 
to  catch  a  note  of  sincerity,  and, 
anyhow,  she  held  her  own  with 
great  coolness. 
Her  part,  and  indeed  the  whole  play, 
should  be  popular,  not  necessarily  for 
its  good  qualities,  but  because  the  public 
dearly  loves  to  see  the  virtues  of  the 
stage  vindicated  in  a  milieu,  where 
opinion  is  most  likelv  to  be  judicious — 
namely,  on  the  stage  itself.  0.  S. 

Commercial  Candour. 
"Motor   and   Aviation  Exchange.      Insure 
with  us  before  the  accident.     Afterwards  we 
can  do  nothing  for  you." 

Advt.  in  "  The  Cydecar." 


"Lost,  between  Victoria  and  Norbury  on 
tram,  Sunday,  between  4  and  5  p.m.,  jlinx 
Fur." — Adi-t.  in  "  Times." 

Bad-tempered  little  minx ;    she  's  lost 
her  fur  again. 


"  To  cl.an  white  kid  gloves,  rub  gently  with 
a  piece  of  rubber,  and  shoes  will  look  like 
new." — Star. 

Then  you  can  go  out  in  them  and  take 
the  gloves  to  the  cleaner. 


OCTOBER  22,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


3J7 


Amateur  Archaeologist  (in  search  t-f  (lint  implements).  "I  HOPE  YOU  DOJJ'I  MIND  MY  IOOKISO  FOB  THESE  ox  voca  LAKD?" 

Farmer.  "WHAT  BE  DOIN"?    PICKIN'  UP  STOANS?"  Amateur.  "YES." 

Fanner  (sympathising  with  a  harmless  case).  "THAI'S  BIGHT;  THOU  FILL  THY  POCKETS  WITH  'EM  AND  TAKE  'EM  WOMB  TO  MOTHEB." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Pimch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MRS.  HUMPHBY  WARD  shows  in  The  Coryston  Family 
(SMITH,  ELDER)  that  she  has  not  lost  the  art  of  diverting 
us  with  the  intelligent  marionettes  which  she  manipulates 
BO  adroitly  from  the  wings  of  her  decorous  little  stage. 
Liuli/  Coryston,  having  tyrannised  her  husband  into  an 
earlier  grave  than  was  strictly  necessary,  chiefly  because  he 
had  once  dared  to  vote  against  her  convictions,  is  left  to 
perfect  the  disintegrating  process  upon  her  family  and 
dependents.  She  meets  with  a  fine  sporting  opposition 
from  her  eccentric  first-born,  who  develops  ideas  of  his  own 
distinctly  out  of  harmony  with  the  smoother  traditions  of 
his  class.  The  truculent  dowager  promptly  disinherits  him, 
a  proceeding  which  is  condemned  as  distinctly  bad  form 
in  the  distinguished  circles  in  which  the  Coryston  family 
moves.  And  when  Arthur,  her  second  and  favourite,  elects 
to  fall  obstinately  in  love  with  Enid  Glenwilliam,  daughter 
of  the  deplorable  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  who  had 
begun  life  as  a  colliery  check-weigher,  all  Lady  CorysLon's 
heavy  guns  are  trained  on  the  impossible  position.  Enid, 
however,  an  attractive,  clever,  but,  as  you  would  guess,  not 
quite  satisfactory  person,  routs  the  ridiculous  great  woman 
— this  concession  to  the  forces  that  are  ruining  the  country 
being  no  doubt  made  in  the  interests  of  an  enlightened 
impartiality.  The  fourth  member  of  the  family,  Marcia,  falls 
in  and  out  of  love  with  an  unusual  variety  of  high  church- 
man, in  whom  the  struggle  between  common  humanity 


and  a  highly  developed  ecclesiasticism  is  cleverly  portrayed, 
and  more  convincingly  than  would  at  first  sight  seem 
possible.  One  cannot  readily  absolve  Mrs.  WABD  of  the 
charge  of  writing  with  some  excellent  purpose.  Could  it 
in  this  instance  possibly  have  been  to  show  by  the  horrid 
example  of  Lady  Coryston  the  terrible  condition  to  which 
voteless  political  women  are  reduced  ? 

Everyone  knows  the  stranga  way  in  which  the  characters 
and  pictures  of  childish  books,  read  when  one  was  veiy 
young,  remain  for  ever  in  a  kind  of  dim  borderland  between 
fact  and  fancy,  affecting  imagination  and  our  inmost  ideas 
of  life.  I  sometimes  wonder  whether  the  modern  child,  for 
whose  delight  such  exquisite  work  is  turned  out  in  yearly 
increasing  quantity,  takes  any  gj-eater  pleasure  in  it  than 
did  his  predecessors  in  their  small  and  comparatively  crude 
library.  These  profound  reflections  have  been  evoked  by 
certain  beautiful  volumes  now  issued  by  Messrs.  HEINEMANN, 
and  more  immediately  by  one  of  them,  The  Adventures  of 
Akbar,  written  by  FLORA  ANNIE  STEEL  and  illustrated  by 
BYAM  SHAW.  I  fancy  I  am  right  in  supposing  that  King 
Akbar  has  before  now  served  as  hero  to  one  of  Mrs.  STEEL'S 
Indian  stories ;  here,  of  course,  she  tells  only  of  his  child- 
hood, and  tells  it  in  a  style  modulated  to  a  youthful  audience. 
So  far  as  a  grown-up  reviewer  can  judge,  its  appeal  should 
be  certain  in  the  quarter  to  which  it  is  addressed,  for 
it  provides  plenty  of  adventures  and  escapes;  two  jolly 
animals  who  again  and  again  preserve  their  young  master; 
and  Akbar  himself  invariably  comes  off  victorious  over  his 


358 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  22,  1913. 


enemies. 


^ „.     For  an  added  excellence  there  is  a  slave   boy 

named  Boy,  who  is  obviously  and  delightfully  deemed  to 
"  turn  out  to  be  somebody  "  before  the  final  chaptar.  All 
this  has  been  illustrated  by  Mr.  BYAM  SHAW  with  pictures 
of  the  right  Oriental  magnificence  in  crimsons  and  gold, 
just  such  pictures  as  the  youthful  eye  (which  appreciates 


liberality  in  such  matters)  will  most  enjoy.  AKogcther 
this  experiment  in  "  STEEL  without  tears/'  if  I  may  call  it 
so,  is  a  distinct  success,  and  should  make  a  host  of  new 
friends  for  its  author  among  the  Empire-builders  of  the 


future. 


from  the  Ditcliy  (AnnowsMiTn)  is  very  good  news, 
and  appropriately  enough  I  received  it  in  the  same  week 
in  which  the  old  charter  was  restored  to  Fowey.  If  I 


mental  and  physical,  of  the  vicar  of  a  small  village  in  the 
wilds,  dead  and  deadening  as  such  villages  are.  The  Rev- 
erend Herbert  llinstonc  had  been  forced  into  holy  orders  by 
a  masterful  mother  with  the  view  of  succeeding  to  a  family 
living.  It  takes  Mr.  COURTNEY  just  two  pages  to  present 
the  reader  with  a  complete  picture  of  the  victim's  attitude 
towards  life  during  the  years  of  his  early  manhood.  In 
one  sentence,  "  He  accepted  his  fates  with  a  certain  non- 
chalance, varied  at  times  with  signs  of  repugnance  and 
revolt,"  he  gives  us  the  equivalent  of  a  dozen  chapters  of 
the  ordinary  novelist.  I  seem  to  see  some  of  our  leading 
Marathon  performers  at  work  on  those  "  signs  of  repug- 
nance and  revolt."  To  my  mind  "A  Priest  in  Israel"  is 
the  gem  of  the  collection  ;  but  each  of  the  others,  from  the 
story  which  gives  the  book  its  title  to  the  little  sketch, 
"  Herodias'  Daughter,"  is  distinguished  by  tho  same 
masterly  sureness  of  touch. 


know  my  Q,  it  is  not  too  much  to  hope  that  in  the  near 

future  we  shall  hear  bis  version  of  the  proceedings  which 

have    been    taking    place    in    "Troy    Town."     Novelets 

imported   from  "up    along"  may  invade   the  Duchy  and        Anyone  can  quote  you  tags  from  "Montrose's  Love-Song" 

persecute  it  with  floods  of  ink,  but  however  fatigued  some  |  (since  it  became  popular  as  a  drawing-room  ballad),  but 


of  us  may  be  by  Cornish 
novels  there  will  always 
be  a  welcome  for  Q  and 
his  delicately  attractive 
work.  "I  hate,"  he  says, 
"  to  hear  the  Duchy 
miscalled  '  the  Riviera 
of  England,'"  and  at  this 
I  laid  down  his  book, 
and  thought  of  writing 
to  tell  him  how  cordially 
I  shared  his  hatred.  But 
I  was  in  the  middle  of 
a  most  good-humoured 
account  of  an  election, 
and  decided  that  what 
he  had  got  to  tell  me 
was  far  more  interesting 
than  anything  I  could 
tell  him.  Here  he  gives 
us  one  long  short-story, 
several  short  short- 
stories,  and  some 
sketches,  and  without 
exception  they  are  to  be  recommended  for  their  humour, 
tone  and  style.  "Pipes  in  Arcady  "  would  screw  a  smile 
out  of  the  morosest  of  misanthropes,  and  will  remain  in 
the  memory  of  normal  people  as  a  perpetual  provocation  to 
laughter.  Taking  the  volume  as  a  whole  I  cannot  remember 
to  have  found  Q  in  better  form. 


Tl:e  Man  on  the  Street.  "You  NEED  NOT  TROUBLE  TO  SEND  FOB  THE  AMBU- 
LANCE, CONSTABLE.     I  'M  EMPLOYED  BY  THE  'BUS  COMPANIES  TO  GIVE  PUBLIC 

DEMONSTRATIONS  OP  HOW  NOT  TO   GET  OFF  A    !BU8  WHEN  IT  IS   GOING." 


how  many  people  know 
that  the  "  dear  and  only 
lovo"  of  the  soldier-poet 
was  not  a  woman  but  a 
country?  And,  if  they 
do,  are  they  sure  what 
the  country  was,  or  could 
they  give  the  name  of 
any  of  the  battles  that 
he  fought?  I  suspect 
that  there  are  one  or  two 
other  things  about  this 
great  soldier  and  most 
gallant  and  loyal  gentle- 
man that  the  general 
reader  has  either  never 
learnt  or  has  forgotten. 
For  that  reason,  amongst 
others,  I  commend  to 
his  notice  Mr.  JOHN 
BUCHAN'S  story  of  The 
Marquis  of  Montrose 
(NELSON).  But  Mr. 
BUCHAN  is  no  school- 


There  are  two  ways  of  writing  a  short  story.  The  first, 
the  recognised  method  of  the  popular  magazines,  is  to  start 
with  an  arresting  incident,  give  the  reader  a  fillip  with 
another  arresting  incident  at  about  the  half-way  mark,  and 
to  dismiss  him,  content,  with  yet  another  incident  which 
brings  the  story  to  a  full  stop.  The  second,  and  more 
artistic — though  the  other  method  has  produced  some  good 
work — is  to  treat  the  short  story  as  a  novel  in  little,  and 
go  about  your  business  soberly  and  without  "curtains." 
Mr.  W.  L.  COURTNEY  favours  the  second  method  in  his  new 
look,  The  Soul  of  a  Suffragette  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL).  It 
is  possible  that  you  may  find  the  alliterative  title  jar  upon 
you,  as  I  did,  but  I  do  not  think  that  you  can  fail  to  enjoy 
the  contents  of  the  book.  Mr.  COURTNEY'S  restraint  is 
admirable.  He  never  takes  a  hundred  pages  to  say  what 
lie  can  say  in  ten;  and  that  seems  to  be  almost  a  lost  art 
nowadays.  A  good  instance  is  to  be  found  in  his  story,  "  A 
Priest  in  Israel,"  of  which  the  theme  is  the  gradual  decay, 


master.  His  history  is  right  enough,  but  his  way  of  telling 
it  gives  his  book  the  fascination  of  a  romance.  It  is  a  stirring 
tale  of  tremendously  plucky  fighting,  generally  against  heavy 
odds,  and  always,  save  once,  triumphant.  Also  it  makes  you 
feel  that  you  understand  the  man  and  his  contemporaries — 
ARGYLL,  HUNTLY,  and  the  rest — even  without  the  aid  of 
the  excellent  portraits  reproduced  in  the  volume.  I  con- 
gratulate Mr.  BUCHAN  on  the  way  in  which  he  has  made 
these  men  live,  even  though  one  of  the  vilest  of  them  all 
happens  to  be  my  own  ancestor.  But  most  of  all  I  am 
grateful  to  him  for  bis  picture  of  MONTROSE,  in  his  way, 
I  suppose,  as  fine  a  Scotsman  as  ever  lived. 

The  Landburster's  Lament. 
Without  rebuke  I  freely  claimed  as  mine 
Virtues  the  wide  world  owns  to  be  divine. 
Who  then  shall  make  me  adequate  amends 
For  wounds  inflicted  in  the  house  of  friends 
When  MASTERMAN — unkindest  cut  of  all — 
Degrades  me  to  the  level  of  ST.  PAUL? 


"  Mr.  Rogers'  fine  steam  yacht  spent  the  \veek  end  in  the  harbour 
and  enjoyed  some  excellent  grouse  shooting." — Cowichan  Leader. 

Meanwhile   we   dare   say   that    Mr.    ROGERS    was    being 
re-painted. 


OCTOBER  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


359 


CHARIVARIA. 

PERSONS  of  artistic  perception  who 
have  seen  the  huge  memorial  erected 
to  commemorate  the  Battle  of  Leipzig 
describe  it  as  a  powerful  reminder  of 
the  horrors  of  war. 

The  Peace  Movement  day  by  day. 
"Over  £2,000,000  Chinese  Treasury 
bonds  have  boon  taken  over  by  Austrian 
State  hanks  on  condi- 
tion that  China  orders 
a  large  cruiser  in 

Austria."  #  ^ 
* 

Fortunately  the 
United  States  gave  way 
and  admitted  Mrs. 
PANKHURST  on  her  un- 
dertaking to  bo  of 
good  behaviour  while 
in  (hat  country.  It  is 
said,  however,  that  the 
militant  leader  almost 
broke  her  word  upon 
meeting  Mr.  HEHHKUT 
SAMUEL  over  there. 
The  sight  of  a  Cabinet 
Minister  nearly  proved 
too  much  for  her,  but, 
mastering  herself  with 
superb  self-control,  she 
simply  said,  "  Quite  like 
home,  isn't  it?" 

*  * 
* 

Mrs.  LLOYD  GEORGE 
says  that  the  motto  of 
the  Liberal  Party  ought 
to  l)e,  "  Go  on  !  "  So 
long  as  its  schemes  do 
not  come  off  the  other 
Party  has  no  objection 

to  raise.    ;.;  ... 

"* ' 

"One  portion  of 
Ireland,"  says  an  un- 
conscious humourist  in 
The  Daily  Chronicle, 
"  already  enjoys  com- 
plete Home  Rule.  The 
inhabitants  of  Innish- 
murry,  an  island  oft'  the 
coast  of  Sligo,  have  for  many  years  defied 
collectors  of  both  rates  and  taxes." 
Those  who  know  the  Irish  peasant  will 
tell  you  that  this  is  just  about  what  he 
imagines  Home  Puile  to  mean. 

:|:     •;: 

Referring  in  his  Manchester  speech 
to  the  Land  question  Mr.  CHURCHILL 
naid,  "  The  policy  of  the  Government 
will  he  laid  before  the  people  step  by 
step."  The  staircase  craze  is  apparently 


offered  Prince  and  Princess  ARTHUR  OF 
CONNAUOHT  the  use  of  the  Ideal  Cottage 
at  Olympia  for  their  honeymoon,  but 
the  royal  couple  found  it  impossible  to 

change  plans  already  made. 

-  ':•. 

"The  Prince,"  "says  The  Dublin 
Evening  J/ai/.in  an  account  of  a  shop- 
ping expedition  by  our  heir  apparent, 
"  wore  sprats  and  carried  an  umbrella." 
It  doas  credit  to  the  PRINCE'S  kind 


"  Small  wonder,"  writes  a  gentle- 
man from  Netting  Dale,  "if  our  modern 
young  men  are  alack,  seeing  the  ivvvanl 
that  is  meted  out  to  the  strenuous 
ones,"  and  ho  encloses  with  his  letter 
a  newspaper-cutting  showing  that  -Mr. 
I'KKCY  JMIANCH  llowi:.  ;i^ed  twenty, 


who  was  stated  to  have  broken  into  no 
fewer  than  fifteen  houses  in  the  J-iallmm 
district  in  one  night,  has  been  sent  to 
prison  for  three  years. 


*••  * 


Countryman  (seeing  cyclist  carrying  motor  tyre).  "WE'D   BETTEB   GET  HOME 

ALONG  AT    ONCE,   MARTHA;    IT  LOOKS  AS  THOUGH  THEY'RE  EXPECTIN'   BIG   FLOODS 

IN  LUNNON.    THAT  's  THE  THIRD  CHAP  I  'VB  SEEN  TO-DAY  wi'  A  LIFE-BELT  ON." 


spreading    from 
Politics. 


the   Music    Halls    to 


It  is  said  that  the  enterprising  pro- 
prietors of  the  Ideal  Home  Exhibition 


heart  to  have  carried  an  umbrella,  but 
sprats,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  are  quite 

used  to  getting  wet. 

#  •','• 

With  reference  to  the  Exhibition,  at 
the  Grosvenor  Gallery,  of  the  Inter- 
national Society  of  Sculptors,  Painters, 
and  Gravers,  a  correspondent,  whose 
ignorance  makes  us  blush  for  him,  asks, 
"  What  is  a  Graver  ?  Is  he  the  same 

as  a  Monumental  Mason  ?  " 

*  •:; 
* 

"  HARROW  FINDS  A  LOST  DIAMOND 
BING." 

— Daily  Express. 
Buck  up,  Eton  1 


It*  is   satisfactory  to 
know  that  the  convict 
who    recently   escaped 
from  Dartmoor  does  not 
blame  the  warders  for 
|  his  recapture,  but  attri- 
I  bates  it  to  our  wretched 
jlimate.    ^   * 
* 

Funeral  plumes  for 
horses  have  bean  con- 
demned by  the  lioyal 
Society  for  the  Preven- 
tion of  Cruelty  to 
Animals,  and  it  has 
been  notified  that  their 
use  after  January  1st 
will  be  punishable  by 
fine.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  we  understand 
that  female  horses,  at 
any  rate,  do  not  at 
all  mind  the  discom- 
fort of  the  feathers, 
holding  that  they  im- 
prove a  lady's  appear- 
ance. £  g 

* 

"The  town  crier  of 
Devizes,"  we  read,  "has 
grown  a  parsnip  44J 
inches  long  and  of  ex- 
cellent shape."  We 
hope  now  that  he  will 
stop  crying. 

"  It  is  as  a  fearless  sports- 
man that '  the  Prince  has 
won  his  most  cherished 
laurels.  He  has  .  .  .  led 
his  own  horse  past  the  win- 
ning-post."— Daily  Mail. 


It  sounds  like  a  walk-over. 


From  an  advertisement  in  The  Liver- 
pool Daily  Post : — 

"  REPERTORY  THEATRE. 

THE   MOTHER, 
By  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS. 
Press  Opinions. 

'  Daily  Post.' — '  One  regrets  the  misfortune 
of  having  to  criticise  it  at  all.'  " 

We  have  not  seen  Mr.  EDEN  PHILL- 
POTTS'  play  and  therefore  cannot  say 
whether  we  should  share  Tlic  Daily 
Post's  regrets ;  but  we  know  the  feel- 
ing well. 


vnr..   rxr.v. 


360 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  29.  1013. 


GAME    AND   GOLF. 

To  the  Editor  of  "  Punch." 
DEAB  SIB,— "  Supposing,"  says  the 
CHANCKLLOB,  "  you  turned  the  whole  of 
a  Highland  deer  forest  into  a  golf 
course."  (Ho  got  mixed  in  the  next 
sentence  and  talked  of  people  shooting 
over  it;  but  that  is  quite  excusable 
when  you  think  how  an  audience  gets 
into  his  head.)  Now,  I  should  like 
him  to  know  that  not  only  did  we 
convert  an  uncultivated  deer  park  at 
Richmond  into  a  golf  course,  but  we 
added  features  which  cannot  fail  to  be 
of  the  greatest  moral  benefit  to  our 
members.  Many  of  them  are  so  devoted 
to  duty  that  they  can  seldom  find  time 
to  go  abroad  and  see  an  Alp;  year 
after  year  they  used  to  miss  the  unique 
spiritual  advantages  which  accrue  from 
contemplation  of  nature  in  its  more 
sublime  and  uplifting  aspects.  So  we 
provided  for  this  defect  by  the  creation 
of  mountainous  scenery,  range  upon 
range,  in  the  .neighbourhood  of  every 
hole.  The  effect  of  this  has  been 
appreciably  to  raise  the  moral  tone  and 
culture  of  our  members. 

Yours  faithfully,       MiD-SuBBEY. 

DEAR  SIB,— What  is  all  this  talk  of 
LLOYD  GEOBOE'S  about  golf  as  a  natural 
attraction  for  brain-workers  from  the 
Stock  Exchange?  Is  it  implied  that 
no  intelligence  is  required  of  those  who 
shoot  game  ?  Let  me  tell  this  political 
bagman  that  it  takes  more  brains  to 
pick  off  a  couple  of  brace  out  of  a  covey 
of  driven  partridges,  or  to  get  within 
shooting  distance  of  a  stag  (let  alone 
hitting  him),  than  to  push  a  little  rubber 
ball  into  a  hole  with  'nobody  to"  stop 
you.  Yours  indignantly, 

SPOBTSMAN. 

HONOUR'D  SIB, — I  was  makin  a  bit 
extry  the  other  day  doin  a  turn  of 
beatin  for  Squire,  when  down  the  road 
conies  one  of  these  luksyoorious  motor- 
cars. As  a  rule.  I  ain't  got  much  use 
for  your  rich  Lunnon  folk'  as  comes 
messin  up  the  place  with  their  dust 
and  smell,  but  this  time  I  sees  who  it 
is,  knowing  .him  from  his  carrykaturs. 
I  touches  my  cap  to  him,  bein  Mr. 
LLOYD  GEOBGE,  who  as  my  interests 
at  eart.  I  *d  hev  given  a  lot  to  be 
lowed  to  stop  him  and  arst  him  a 
question  or  two.  Frinstance,  what 's 
this  here  forestation  he  talks  about  ? 
Would  it  be  the  same  as  wot  Squire 
does, — takin  a  bit  of  useless  land  and 
puttin  in  a  plantation  for  his  birds?  Our 
Radical  Member  he  says  that  it  can't 
be  the  same,  coz  anything  to  do  with 
pheasants  must  bs  wrong.  Anyways, 
it 's  difficult  for  country  folk  to  unner- 
stand  these  things  same  as  the  Lunnon 
folk;  and  1  might  hev  picked  up  a 


thin"  or  two  if  I  could  hev  ad  an  eavt 
to  eart  talk  with  Mr.  GKOUGE  in  his 
motor.  Yours  respekful,  HODGE. 

DEAB  SIR,— The  CHANCELLOR  has 
spoken  in  praise  of  golf,  but  has  he 
realised  the  drain  that  it  makes  upon 
the  resources  of  the  brain- worker?  I 
refer  to  the  iniquitous  charge  for  golf- 
balls,  which  still  stands  at  the  same 
figure — two  shillings  and  sixpence — at 
which  it  stood  when  rubber  was  four 
or  five  times  its  present  cost.  Ninety- 
six  millions  of  golf-balls  are  purchased 
every  year,  at  an  expenditure  of  twelve 
million  pounds,  yielding  a  profit  of 
eight  to  ten  million  pounds  to  the 
bloated  capitalists  who  manufacture 
them.  This  sum  would  go  far  to  re- 
place the  damage  done  to  crops  by 
pheasants.  • 

Yours,  on  the  verge  of  ruin, 

A  POOR  MAN. 

P.S. — I  have  no  means  of  checking 
the  above  figures,  which  came  out  of 
my  head,  but  I  give  them  for  what  they 
are  worth. 

SIB, — I  once  had  a  job  as  a  market 
gardener  near  a  big  town.  I  liked  the 
pay  all  right,  but  the  work  was  on  the 
heavy  side.  Well,  a  syndicate  come 
along  and  buys  up "  all  the  market 
gardens  and  acres  and  acres  of  cultivated 
land  and  turns  them  into  a  golf  course. 
I  losfmy  job,  but  I  sees  my  chance  of 
ehippin  in  as  a  caddie.  I  gets  a  decent 
wage  what  with  tips  and  that,  and  me 
and  my  mates  has  the  best  part  of 
every  day  for  lyin  about  and  doin  a 
bit  of  gamblin  irt  a  sort  of  a  cow-shed. 
There  ain't  many 'softer  jobs  goin,  and 
the  life  suits  me  nicely.  I  wouldn't 
change  with  a  brother  of  mine  who  's 
got  a  stiff  billet  as  a  game-keeper.  His 
pay  's  good,  and  he's  got  a  kind  master 
ami  a  nice  cottage,  but  he  has  to  do 
more  work  than  I  should  fancy,  and  no 
picture  palaces  of  an  evening.  And 
now  that  Mr.  GEORGE  tells  me  what  a 
dirty  business  this  game-keepin  is, 
compared  with  the  noble  sport  of  golf, 
I  pities  my  brother  from  my  heart. 
Give  me  my  blind-alley,  I  says,  and  a 
good  conscience. 

Yours  obedient,     CASUAL  CADDIE. 

DEAR  SIR, — Has  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE, 
I  wonder,  ever  heard  of  the  deer  forest 
owned  (or  rented)  by  the  Municipality 
of  Glasgow  ?  I  don't  ask  if  he  has 
ever  seen  it,  for  he  admits  that  he  hai 
never  seen  one  of  these  deer  forests 
that  he  knows  so  much  about ;  but 
has  he  ever  heard  of  it  ?  I  have. 
I  have  often  stalked  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  many  a  time  I  have 
shuddered  to  picture  the  scenes  of 
desolation  that  must  have  occurred  at 
its  making  —  hundreds  of  gallant  pea- 


sants driven  from  their  happy  homes 
where  they  had  previously  earned  an 
honest  competence  by  the  sale  of  white 
heather;  their  desolate  healths  laid 
waste  by  flame  ;  their  sporrans  flung  to 
the  winds  ;  the  music  of  their  bag-pipes 
rendered  dumb.  But  let  that  pass.  It 
i=i  for  the  future  prospects  of  the  sturdy 
race  that  I  tremble  when  I  think  of 
;he  possible  realisation  of  Mr.  LLOYD 
GEOKGE'S  dream ;  of  "  six  hundred 
.housand"  subscribers  let  loose  'on 
the  hill  with  lethal  weapons  —  not 
counting  his  "eighteen  thousand  work- 
men who  would  shoot  regularly  over 
the  deer  forest  on  payment  of  half-a- 
crown  a  year."  The  carnage  would  be 
awful.  Ulster  would  bo  nothing  to  it. 
I  speak  of  human  lives,  not  of  stags. 
Indeed,  my  only  solace  is  the  thought 
that  these  serried  battalions  of  sports- 
men would  be  certain  to  push  the 
astonished  deer  across  the  march  into 
the  forest  of  my  host. 

Yours,  with  mixed  feelings, 

o.  s. 


OUT  OF  SEASON. 

(Ons  of  the  remarkable  effects  of  the 

recent  exceptional  weather,) 
IN  Autumn,  when  the  woods  are  wet 
And  mournfully  the  breezes  moan, 
Love  fades  away  without  regret 

From  bosoms  like  my  own. 
Nature  is  tired,  the  grey  skies  weep, 
The  dormouse  lulls  himself  to  sleep, 
The  lamb,  that  used  to  frisk  and 

leap, 

Becomes  a  staid  and  stolid  sheep, 
And  I  leave  girls  alone. 

Such  is  the  normal  course  of  things. 

To-day  the  frenzy  still  remains, 
The  magic  of  a  hundred  Springs 

Riots  in  all  my  veins. 
Love  masters  me ;  his  ardent  flame 
Quivers  through  my  exhausted  frame; 
Friends,  you  have  doubtless  felt  the 

same 
When  some  rare  April  glamour  came 

To  turn  your  sober  brains. 

September  wrought  this  mood  in 
me ; 

Her  gleaming  sun,  her  joyous  air 
Had  all  Spring's  potent  wizardry 

(Which  really  wasn't  fair) ; 
October,  faithless,  joins  the  pact 
And  leaves  my  amorous  fire  intact. 
Well,  anyhow,  I  won't  extract 
A  mean  advantage  from  the  fact — 

Girls,  you  are  warned.     Beware. 

One  Party,  anyhow,  in  Keighley 
doesn't  seem  in  very  close  touch  witt 
the  Feminists. 

"KEIGHLEY  DIVISION 
HE  UNIONIST  CANDIDATE" 
announces  The  Daily  Telegraph. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— OCTOHKB  29,  1913. 


THE    WUNDEKKIND. 

ADMIRAL  VON  TIRPITZ.  "I  HAVE  THROWN  COLD  WATER,  MAJESTY,  ON  MR.  CHURCHILL'S 
HOLIDAY  SCHEME.  I  TRUST  THAT  I  HAVE  RIGHTLY  INTERPRETED  THE  VIEW  OF  THE 
CEOWN  PRINCE." 


OCTOBKU  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHA  Kl  YA  i;l. 


363 


Passenger  (suddenly  to  conductor}.  "I  WISH— YOU'D — TELL— YOUR  DRIVER  NOT  TO— JERK— THE  'BOB— WHEX  PEOPLE  ARE— coma 
UPSTAIRS.    HE  'LL  CAUSE — AN  ACCIDENT — ONE  OP  THESE  DAYS!" 


THE   IDEAL   HOME. 

(With  apologies  to  the  progressivt  organisers  of  the  recent 
Exhibition  at  Olympia.) 

'•BKFOBE  the  thing  ends,"  I  observed  to  my  Lilian, 

"  Let  "s  hasten  and  see  if  it  "s  true 
That  the  Fortunate  Isles  and  the  Vale  of  Avilion 
Are  dumped  at  Olympia.     Do." 
And  Lilian  said,  "  Thos, 
Happy  thought!  "  and  it  was; 
But  that  very  same  day  it  occurred  to  a  million 
Intelligent  Londoners  tco. 

There  were  hangings  and  curtains  and  carpets  and  ranges 

For  kitchens,  and  cauldrons  and  pots, 
And  vacuum-cleaners  and  servant-exchanges, 
And  toys  for  the  infantile  tots. 

There  were  homes  of  the  Russ 
Which  would  not  do  for  us; 
There  was  furniture  taken  from  futurist  granges 
At  Hanwell  and  similar  spots. 

There  were  haths  with  gold  taps  and  a  malachite  stopper, 

And  one  with  a  card  that  explained 
It  was  open  to  all  who  expended  a  copper 
To  fill  it  and  try  it.     But,  trained 
As  we  were  in  the  rules 
Of  Victorian  schools, 

Neither  Lilian  nor  I  thought  that  that  would  bo  proper, 
Aad  so  we  severely  refrained. 

There  were  rooms  which  suggested  the  time  when  the 
slattern 

Should  trouble  no  longer,  and  all 
Should  be  comfort  and  peace  in  the  empire  of  Saturn, 

But  oh,  it  was  hot  in  that  hall! 


And  "  Lilian,"  said  I, 
"  I  could  drop.     Let  us  buy 
Thit  brace  of  armchairs  of  a  willowy  pattern, 
And  rest  by  the  side  of  this  stall." 

But  Lilian  said  "  No."     The  implacable  faces 

Of  constables  frowned.     With  a  sob 
We  turned  us  away  from  that  palmy  oasis 
And  went  and  had  tea  for  a  bob. 

That  was  helpful,  no  doubt, 
But  before  we  got  out 

Through  the  ranks  of  the  ravenous,  squealing  for  places, 
We  all  but  expired  in  the  mob. 

"This  is  closer,"  said  Lil,  "  than  the  bell  of  a  diver." 

"  It 's  awful,"  I  answered,  "  my  sweet; 
Any  room  in  this  show  would  be  dear  at  a  fiver. 
Compared  with  our  worst.     Let  us  fleet." 
So  I  hastened  to  nab 
A  well-oiled  taxicab, 

And  "  The  Ideal  Home,"  I  remarked  to  the  driver, 
And  mentioned  our  number  and  street.  EVOE. 


Our  learned  contemporary,  Nature,  writing  of  the  recent 
work  of  Lord  RAYLEIOH,  O.M.,  says  that  it  is  "  no  slight 
record  for  a  man  during  the  seventieth  decade  of  his 
life."  One  would  think  that  "O.M."  stood  for  Old 
Methuselah. 

"  In  the  intcrv.il  Watson  had  his  best  run  of  the  afternoon,  but, 
flfter  rounding  two  or  three  opponents,  ho  was  brought  low  by 

Wilson." — Edinburgh  Evening  Dispatch. 

We  ourselves  once  scored  a  try  in  the  interval — everybody 
else  being  busy  sucking  lemons.  After  all,  one  must 
distinguish  oneself  somehow. 


364 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBEB  29,  1913. 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

LATEST  FASHIONS  IN  WEDDINGS, 
DANCES  AND  PHOTOGRAPHS. 

Park  Lane. 

DEAREST  DAPHNE, — There's  quite  a 
little  feeling  just  now  for  being  married 
in  the  City,  especially  if  one's  forebears 


them  both,  one's  time  is  pretty  full. 
Special  shoes  have  to  be  worn,  of 
course.  For  the  Inca  shuffle  one  wears 
them  with  collapsible  heels,  as  some 
of  the  steps  are  done  without  heels  and 
others  with,  while  for  the  Bollyooma 
the  heels  are  placed  right  in  the  middle 
of  the  soles,  so  that  one  can  do  those 


have  had  anything  to  do  with  trade,  or  j  delicious  teetotum  twirls.     Part  of  the 
the  old  City  Companies  and  so  on.  The  j  Bollyooma   is   done  on  all-fours,  and 
power  and  prestige  of  the  City,  Norty   ' 
tells  me,  are  being  threatened  in  a  most 
odious  way  by  certain  persons,  and  the 
least  we  can  do,  to  stem  the  tide  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  is  to  take  some  notice 
of  the  City,  and  be  married  there  some- 
times. 

The  best  done  City  wedding,  so  far, 
has  been  Evangeline  Merewether's  (the 
Exshires'  second  girl)  to  Billy  Flum- 


the   Exshire 


mery.  The  founder  of 
family  was  a  City  pickle 
merchant  and  Worship- 
ful Master  of  the  old 
Picklemakers'  Com- 
pany, and  he  founded 
the  family  by  inventing 
apickle  of  which  QUEEN 
ELIZABETH  ..said: 
"Marry  come  up.Master 
Merewether,  thou  hast 
given  us  a  new  joy  with 
our  victuals ! " 

The  wedding  was  at 
St.  Anne's-Picklebury, 
where  the  old  pickle- 
makers  always  went  on 
Sunday,  a  wonderful 
old  church,  built  by 
WHEN  or  somebody.  It 
had  been  brightened  up 
a  bit  inside,  and  was  all 
done  with  capsicums, 
and  jerkins,  and  doub- 
loons, and  those  other  wonderful  old 
vegetables  they  used  to  pickle.  "  Olga  " 
had  very  cleverly  hinted  at  City  interests, 
royal  approval,  and  successful  pickle- 
making  in  the  cut,  hang  and  trimmings 
of  Evangeline's  bridal  gown.  Instead 
of  posies,  the  bridesmaids  carried  little 
gilt  baskets  of  small  red  pickling- 
cabbages.  The  wedding-breakfast  was 
at  a  City  hotel  and  we  drank  the  dear 
old  City  toast,  "  All  friends  round  St. 
Paul's,"  and  when  we  got  back  into 
civilised  regions  again  we  all  felt  we  'd 
done  great  things  for  the  City  at  what- 
ever cost  to  ourselves ! 

Nowadays,  you  know,  at  every  possi- 
ble function  one  must  dance  oneself  or 
be  the  cause  of  dancing  in  others,  as 
SHAKSPEABE  says.  The  sweet  Peruvian 
dance,  the  Inca  Shuffle,  and  the  equally 


for  this  one  has  the  dearest  little  hand- 
shoes,  which,  of  course,  must  match 
the  other  ones. 

When  Peggy  Sandys  and  Lolly  ffol- 
lyott  were  married  last  week  at  St. 
Hilary's,  the  Eamsgates  sent  out  cards 
for  a  Bollyooma  wedding,  and  Popsy 
Lady  Eamsgate  has  been  giving  a 
series  of  Bollyooma  dinners,  a  different 
step  for  each  course,  and  the  all-fours 


bother,  and,  best  of  all,  they  don't  grow 
up  and  make  one  seem  old !  "  And  he 
said  some  immensely  fearful  things  of 
all  the  people  I  know,  and  banged 
out  of  the  room ;  and,  though  the  poor 
dear  doll's  Bollyooma  lunch  frock  was 
a  ruin,  I  don't  know  when  I  've  liked 
Josiah  so  well.  Perhaps  if  he'd  stormed 
at  me  oftener  we  should  have  been  what 
old-fashioned  people  call  a  more  united 
couple. 

There's  a  small  rage  just  now  for 
having  one's  photo  done  crying.  Your 
Blanche  set  the  fashion.  1  'm  one  of 
those  lucky  people,  as  you  know,  who 
can  shed  tears  without  looking  abso- 
lutely ricky,  and  my  new  photo,  my 
eyes  cast  down  on  a  letter  in  my  hand, 
and  the  tears  just  falling  gently  down 
my  cheeks,  has  had  a  succes  jou.  It 's 


step  for  the  dessert ;  and  now  the  poor  '  been  in  ever  so  many  of  the  weeklies, 

—  and  people  have  baen 
simply  awfully  sweet 
about  it.  Babs  and 
Beryl  and  quite  several 
more  have  had  weeping 
photos  done  since  mine. 
Beryl's  are  pretty  good, 
but  Babs  can't  cry  with- 
out making  a  face. 

The  letter  I  'm  holding 
in  the  photo  (this  is  for 
your  own  men  ear  only) 
was  really  the  cause  of 
my  sheddingsometears, 
and   on  that  occasion, 
seeing    myself    in    the 
mirror    tout    6ploree,  I 
thought    I  'd    have    a 
weeping    photo    done. 
The    letter    was    from 
Beryl,  asking  me  down 
to  Clarges  Park,  where 
she'd  a  large  party  to 
meet  Kloppa,  the  little  forest-man  who 's 
been  said  to  bt  the  Missing  Link  be- 
tween us  and  creatures,  and  I  was  so 
entirely  wretched  to  think  that  I  hadn't 
secured    him    first    for   my  party    at 


Wife  of  his  Bosom.  "  GEORGE,  COME  ORP  OP  THEM  SEATS,  D'Y'   'EAR?    THET'S 

THE    WORST   O1    BRINGIX1   YOU    AHT,    Y'    NO    SOONER   GET    A    LOOK    AT    TUB    SWELLS 
THAN  Y'   START  6WASKIN*   IT  OS  THE  PENNY  CHAIRS  1  " 


old  dear  has  such  a  frightful  attack  of 
indy  that  she 's  forbidden  to  go  any- 
where or  do  anything ! 

A  quite  funny  little  thing  happened 
yesterday       I   was   in   my   rest-room, 


having  a  cigarette  and  watching  Yvonne  Broadacres  that  I  cried! 
dress  my  new  doll  (made  to  my  order  When  I  felt  better  I  asked  Professor 
and  just  arrived  from  Paris)  in  all  the  Dimsdale  if  Kloppa  is  really  the  Missing 
correct  things  for  a  Bollyooma  lunch,  i  Link  between  us  and  creatures.  "  Cer- 
when  Josiah  came  in.  "  Let  me  present  i  tainly  not,"  said  the  dear  Professor; 
you  to  Blanchette,  my  new  pet,"  I  said.  I  and  then  he  asked  me  if  I  took  an 
"  Isn't  she  a  darling  ?  She 's  being  got  interest  in  anthro-something.  I  said, 
ready  to  go  to  a  Bollyooma  lunch  with  No,  it  wasn't  that,  hut  if  he  ivasn't  the 
me."  My  dear,  he  actually  made  quite  Missing  Link  I  shouldn't  so  much 
a  scene,  sent  Yvonne  out  of  the  room, '  mind  Beryl's  having  had  him  down  at 
threw  Blanchette  on  the  floor,  and  j  Clarges  Park ;  and  the  Professor  said 
almost  shouted,  "What  does  it  all '  Kloppa  was  certainly  not  the  Missing 
mean?  Has  the  world  gone  mad?  "  j  Link,  because  there  wasn't  any  Missing 
"  My  dear  man,"  I  answered,  laughing, !  Link;  so  I  suppose  we  go  straight  on. 
"  the  world  went  mad  ages  and  ages  !  I  thanked  him  for  taking  quite  a  lead 


lovely    Bolivian    Bollyooma    are    the  ago.     As  for  my  poor  dear  doll,  every-   off  my  mind,  and  now  l"tell  everyone 
ec.    <a     -L.  moment>   and-  as    the  b°dY  has  a  doll  now,  and  who  am  I   who's    been    staying   at   Clarges  "that 
ihuffle i  has   500  steps   and  the;  that   I   should   be   different   from  the   they  haven't  met   the   Missing   Link, 
a  700,  and  people  who  mean  others  ?     Dolls  make   the  most   ideal ';  because   there  isn't   one,   and   we    go 
e  or  thereabouts  must  know  companions;  they  don't  howl,  they  don't  I  straight  on.     Ever  thine,    BLANCHE. 


OCTOBER  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


365 


A   FALLEN   STAR. 

I  MET  him  in  Hydo  Park.     Ho  was 
alone,  sitting  on  one  of  the  penny  scats. 
;   subsided   into  the   next,  wondering 
low  soon  his  people  would  join  him. 
hfeanwhilo  I  glanced  at  the  papor. 

Sitting  there  idly  reading,  and  now 
ind  then  stealing  a  glance  at  him,  I 
vas  conscious  of  two  things:  one  that 
10  was  asthmatic,  and  the  other  that 
10  was  profoundly  unhappy.  That  he 
should  be  asthmatic  was,  of  course, 
,o  bo  expected,  but  I  did  not  like  his 
nelancholy. 

Time  passed,  and  no  one  arrived  to 
ook  after  him,  and  my  paper  was 
finished,  and  then,  as  I  folded  it  up,  he 
spoke.  "  Good  afternoon,"  he  said. 

Why  I  was  not  astonished  to  be  thus 
addressed  by  a  pug  dog  I  cannot  say, 
aut  it  seemed  perfectly  natural.  "Good 
afternoon,"  I  replied. 

"It's  a  long  time,"  he  said,  "since 
you  saw  any  of  my  kind,  I  expect  ?  " 

"Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,"  I  re- 
plied, "it  is.  How  is  that?" 

"  There 's  a  reason,"  he  said.  "  Put 
in  a  nutshell  it's  this:  Peeks  and 
Poms,  or,  if  you  like,  Poms  and  Peeks." 
He  wheezed  horribly. 

I  asked  him  to  be  more  explicit,  and 
he  amplified  his  epigram  into  Pekinese 
and  Pomeranians. 

"  They  're  all  the  rage  now,"  he  ex- 
plained ;  "and  we  're  out  in  the  cold.  I: 
you  throw  your  memory  back  a  dozen 
years  or  so,"  he  went  on,  "  you  wil' 
recall  our  popularity." 

As  he  spoke  I  did  so.    In  the  mind's 
eye  I  saw  a  sumptuous  carriage  anc 
pair.    The  former  was  on   C-springs 
and  a  coachman  and  footman  were  or 
the  box.    They  wore  claret  livery  anc 
cockades.     The   footman's   arms   were 
folded.     His  gloves  were  of  a  dazzling 
whiteness.     The  horses  flung  oat  thei 
forelegs  as  though  they  lived  on  golden 
oats  and  champagne.     In  the  carriage 
was  an  elderly  commanding  lady  witl 
an  aristocratic  nose;  and  in  her  lap  wai 
a  pug  dog  of  plethoric  habit  and  a  fac 
as  black  as  your  hat. 

My  poor  friend  was   watching   mi 
with  streaming  eyes.     "  What  do  yot 
see  ?  "  he  asked. 
I  .told  him. 
"  There  you  are,"  he  said;  "and  wha 
do  you  see  to-day  ?     There,  look  !" 

1  glanced  up  at  his  bidding,  and 
costly  motor  was  gliding  smoothly  by 
It  weighed  several  tons,  and  its  tyre 
were  like  circular  pillows.  On  it 
shining  door  was  a  crest.  The  chaul 
feur  was  kept  warm  by  Russian  sables 
Inside  was  another  elderly  lady,  and  i: 
her  arms  was  a  russet  Pekinese. 

"  And  the  next  '11  have  a  Pom,"  sai 
the  pug  dismally,  and  wheezed  again. 


Country  Doctor's  Housemaid.  "If  YOU   PLEASE,   Sin,   MBS.   JONES  HAS  BEST  TO  BAT 
MB.  JONES  is  DEAD,  AND  SHE  's  BEARIN*  up  WONDERFUL." 


"  So  you  see  what  I  took  away  with 
me,"  he  continued  after  a  noisy  pause. 
"It  wasn't  only  pugs  that  went,  you 
see.  It  was  carriages  and  pairs,  and 
the  noise  of  eight  hoofs  all  at  once, 
and  footmen  with  folded  arms.  We 
passed  together.  Peeks,  Poms  and 
Petrol  took  our  place." 

I  sympathised  with  him.  "  You 
must  transfer  your  affection  to  another 
class,  that 's  all,"  I  said.  "  If  the  nobs 
have  gone  back  on  you,  there  are  still 
a  groat  many  pug-lovers  left." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  that 's  no  good ;  we 
want  chicken.  No,  we  had  better 
become  extinct."  He  wept  liko  a 
number  of  syphons  all  leaking  together. 

"  But  that 's  not  what  worries  me 
most,"  he  resumed.  "  The  thing  that 's 
on  my  mind  is  the  loss  to  literature.  The 
novelists  of  our  time — and  we  had  a 
long  innings — knew  our  worth.  When 
they  drew  a  duchess  with  her  ebony 
crutch-stick  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  they 
saw  that  her  constant  ally,  her  Grand 
Vizier,  so  to  speak,  was  properly  drawn 


too.  They  made  us  too  fat  very  often, 
but  they  did  not  forget  us.  We  shall 
never  find  our  way  into  novels  any 
more.  We  are  back  numbers." 

At  this  moment  the  man  who  has 
charge  of  the  chairs  came  up  for  my 
penny,  and  when  I  looked  round  the 
dog  had  gone.  I  gave  the  penny. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  must  charge  you  two- 
pence," the  man  said. 

I  asked  him  why. 

"  For  the  dog,"  he  said. 

"  But  it  wasn't  mine,"  I  assured  him. 
"  It  was  a  total  stranger." 

"  Come  now,"  he  said ;  and  to  save 
trouble  I  paid  him. 

But  how  like  a  pug ! 

From  "  Thoughts  for  To-day  "  in  The 
Dublin  Evening  Mail : — 

"The  cow  cannot  possibly  stand  always 
bent,  nor  can  human  nature  subsist  without 
recreation. — CEEV  ANTES." 

Advice  to  Farmers :  Do  not  bend  youi 
cows. 


3(56 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  29,  1913. 


we  met.  Be  at  the  club-house  at  2.3C 
if  you  can.  I  don't  quite  know  ho\ 
we  shall  recognise  each  other,  but  th 
well-dressed  man  in  the  nut-brown  su 
will  probably  be  me.  My  feature 
are  plain  but  good,  except  where  I  fe 
against  the  bath-taps  yesterday.  J 
you  have  fallen  against  anything  whic" 
would  give  me  a  clue  to  your  face  yo 

might  let  me  know.     Also  you  inigh 
moment.     Godfrey  .  .  .  Yes,  that  'a  it ;  I  let  me  know  if  yoa  are  a  professor  a 

he  's  the  architect.     Ho  lives  at  Liver-  j  golf .  if  you  are>  j  will  read  some  mm. 
pod,  lias  five  children  and  sent  us  the   ,)ooks  ol'  tho  subject  between  now  an 


UNCLE  EDWARD. 

CELIA  has  more  relations  than  would 
seem  possible.  1  am  gradually  getting 
to  know  some  of  them  by  sight  and  a 
few  more  by  name,  but  I  still  make 
mistakes.  The  other  day,  for  instance, 
she  happened  to  mention  UncleGodfrey. 

"  Godfrey,"  I  said,  "  Godfrey.  No, 
don't  tell  me — I  shall  get  it  in  a 


asparagus-cooler  as  a  wedding  present. 
"  No  marks,"  said  Celia. 
"  Then  he 's   the  unmarried  one  in 
Scotland  who  breeds  terriers.     I  knew 
1  should  get  it." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  lives  n 
London  and  composes  oratorios." 

"It 's  the  same  idea.     That  was  the, 
one  I  meant.    The  great  point  is  tha 
I  placed  him.     Now  give  me  anothei 
one."     I  leant  forward  eagerly. 

"  Well,  I  was  just  going  to  ask  you 
— .have  you  arranged  anything  aboul 
Monday  ?  " 

"  Monday,"  I  said,  "  Monday.  No 
don't  tell  me — I  shall  get  it  in  a  moment 
Monday  .  .  .  Ho 's  the  one  who 


Oh,  you  mean  the  day  of  the  week  ?  " 
"  Who 's  a  funny  ?  "  asked  Celia  of 
the  teapot. 

"Sorry,  I  really  thought  you  meant 
another  relation.     What  am  I  doing? 
I  'in  playing  golf  if  I  can  find  somebody 
to  play  with." 
"  Well,  ask  Edward." 
I    could    place    Edward    at    once. 
Edward,  I  need  hardly  say,  is  Celia's 
uncle;  one  of  the  ones  I  have  not  yet 
met.    He  married  a  very  young  aunt 
of  here,  not  much  older  than  Celia. 
"  But  I  don't  know  him,"  I  said. 
"  It  doesn't  matter.     Write  and  ask 
him  to-meet  you  at  the  golf  club.    I  'm 
sure  he  'd  love  to." 

"  Wouldn't  he  think  it  rather  cool, 
this   sudden  attack   from   a  perfectly 
unknown  nephew?    I  fancy  the  first 
step  ought  to  come  from  uncle." 
"  But  you  're  older  than  he  is." 
"  True.    It 's  rather  a  tricky  point  in 
etiquette.     Well,  I  '11  risk  it," 

This  was  the  letter  I  sent  to  him  :— 
"  MY  DEAR  UNCLE  EDWARD, — Why 
haven't  you  written  to  me  this  term  ? 
I  have  spent  the  five  shillings  you  gave 
me  when  I  came  back ;  it  was  awfully 
ripping  of  you  to  give  it  me,  but  I  have 
spent  it  now.  Are  you  coming  down 
to  see  me  this  term  ?  If  you  aren't  you 
might  write  to  me,  there  is  a  post- 
office  here  where  you  can  change  postal 
orders. 

"  What  I  really  meant  to  say  was,  can 
you  play  golf  with  me  on  Monday  at 
MudburyHill?  I  am  your  new  and 
favourite  nephew,  and  it  is  quite  time 


Monday.  Just  at  the  moment  my  gam 
is  putrid. 

"  Your  niece  and  my  wife  sends  he 
love.  Good-bye.  I  was  top  of  1113 
class  in  Latin  last  week.  I  must  now 
stop,  as  it  is  my  bath-night. 

"I  am,         Your  loving  NEPHEW." 

The  next  day  I  had  a  letter  from  mj 
uncle : — 

"  MY  DEAR  NEPHEW, — I  was  so  glac 
to  get  your  nice  little  letter  and  to  heai 
that  you  were  working  hard.  Lst  me 
know  when  it  is  your  bath-night  again 
these  things  always  interest  me. 
shall  be  delighted  to  play  golf  with  you 
on  Monday.  You  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  recognizing  me.  I  should  describe 
myself  roughly  as  something  Iik6 
Apollo  and  something  like  Edmund 
Payne,  if  you  know  what  I  mean.  It 
depends  how  you  come  up  to  me.  I 
am  an  excellent  golfer  and  never  take 
more  than  two  putts  in  a  bunker. 

"  Till  2.30  then.  I  enclose  a  postal- 
order  for  sixpence,  to  seo  you  through 
the  rest  of  the  term. 

"  Your  favourite  Uncle,      EDWARD." 

I  showed  it  to  Celia. 

"Perhaps  you  could  describe  him 
more  minutely,"  I  said.  "  I  hate  wan- 
lering  about  vaguely  and  asking  every- 
body I  see  if  he 's  my  uncle.  It  seems 
so  odd." 

"You  're  sure  to  meet  all  right,"  said 
Celia  confidently.  "He's — well,  he's 
lice-looking  .and — and  clean-shaven — 
ad,  oh,  you  'II  recognize  him." 

At  2.30oh  Monday  I  arrived  at  theclub- 

louse  and  waited  for  my  uncle.    Various 

people  appeared,  but   none  seemed  in 

vant  of  a  nephew.     When  2.45  came 

here  was  still  no  available  uncle.    True, 

here  was  one  unattached  man  reading 

n  a   corner  of  the  smoke-room,   but 

e  had  a  moustache — the  sort  of  heavy 

moustache  one  associates  with  a  Major. 

At  three  o'clock  I  became  desperate. 

fter  all,  Celia  had  not  seen  Edward  for 

ome   time.     Perhaps    he   had   grown 

i  moustache  lately;    perhaps   he   had 

frown  one  specially  for  to-day.     At  any 

ate  there  would  be  no  harm  in  asking 

this  Major  man  if  he  was  my  uncle. 

Even  if  he  wasn't  he  might  give  n:e  a 

game  of  golf. 


"Excuse  me,"  I  said  politely,  "but 
are  you  by  any  chance  my  Uncle 
Edward  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  he  said  with  an 
air  of  apology. 

"  I  was  almost  certain  you  weren't, 

but  I  thought  I  'd  just  ask.    I  'm  sorry." 

"  Not   at  all.     Naturally  one  wants 

to  find  one's  uncle.     Have  you er 

lost  him  long?  " 

"Years,"  I  said  sadly.  "Er — I  won- 
der if  you  would  care  to  adopt  me I 

mean,  give  me  a  game  this  afternoon. 
My  man  hasn't  turned  up." 

"  By  all  means.    I  'm  not  very  good." 
"  Neither    am   I.      Shall    we    start 
now  ?     Gocd." 

I  was  sorry  to  miss  Edward,  but  I 
wasn't  going  to  miss  a  game  of  golf  on 
such  a  lovely  day.  My  spirits  rose. 
Not  even  the  fact  that  there  were  no 
;addies  left,  and  I  had  to  carry  my  own 
:lubs,  could  depress  mo. 

The  Major  drove.  I  am  not  going 
;o  describe  the  whole  game;  thou»h 
my  cleek  shot  at  the  fifth  hole,  from°a 
mnging  lie  to  within  two  feet  of 
ihe —  However,  I  mustn't  go  into 
that  now.  But  it  surprised  the  Major 
a  good  deal.  And  when  at  tiie  next 
lole  I  laid  my  brassie  absolutely  dead, 

ie But  I  can  tell  you  about  that 

some  other  time.  It. is  sufficient  to  say 
low  that,  when  we  reached  the  seven- 
.eenth  tee,  I  was  one  up. 

We  both  played  the  seventeenth  well. 
He  was  a  foot  from  the  hole  in  four.  I 
played  my  third  from  the  edge  of  the 
;reen.  and  was  ridiculously  short,  giving 
nyself  a  twenty-foot  putt  for  the  hole, 
leaving  my  clubs  I  went  forward  with 
he  putter,  and  by  the  absurdest  luck 
lushed  the  ball  in. 

"  Good,"  said  the  Major.  "  Your 
jamc." 

I  went  back  for  my  clubs.  When  I 
urned  round  the  Major  was  walking 
arelessly  off  to  the  next  tee,  leaving 
he  flag  lying  on  the  green  and  my  ball 
till  in  the  tin. 

1  Slacker,"  I  said  to  myself,  and 
valked  up  to  the  hole. 

And  then  I  had  a  terrible  shock.  I 
aw  in  the  tin,  not  my  ball,  but  a — • 

moustache ! 

"Am  I  going  mad?"  I  said.  "I 
ould  have  sworn  that  I  drove  off  with 

'  Colonel,'  and  yet  I  seem  to  have 
oled  out  with  a  Major's  moustache!  " 
picked  it  up  and  hurried  after  him. 

"  Major,"  I  said,  "  excuse  me,  you've 
ropped  your  moustache.  It  fell  off  at 
10  critical  stage  of  the  match ;  the 
hock  of  losing  was  too  much  for  you ; 
le  strain  of — 

He  turned  his  clean-shaven  face 
ound  and  grinned  at  me. 

"  I  am  your  long-lost  uncle." 

A.  A.  M. 


OCTOBEU  29.  1913.]  PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 367 

THE    FREAK    ADVERTISEMENT-WHAT    IT    MAY    COME    TO. 


SS£p^f:   •!; 


GOOD  NEWS   FOB  C6ERS  Or  SlMTKIN'8   SCAtF  INVIGOBATOB.      ON  NOVEMBEB  5TH  FllEE  BAUBSKISQ  IN   LUDGATE   ClBCUfl. 

OS'I  IIIS8   "  SlMPKlN'S-DiY  "   lU   THE   Cm. 


4'7   CONCENTBATED   SYRUP  OP  BEEF-EATEBS1   DAY.      SATURDAY   NEXT.      REAL   COWS   GIVEN   AWAY   TO   BOXA  FIDE   CONSUMERS. 

WEAK  THE  SYBUP  SMILE  AND  vrra  A  cow. 


3G8 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  29,  1913. 


THE  CHOICE. 

Sportsman.   "WELL,  I  BELIEVE  I'VE   GOT  A   BIBD  DOWN  ABOUT  HALF-A-MILE   BACK,  AND  I  KSOW  THEBE  PS   AN  EXCELLENT  LUNCH 
BEADY  IN  THE   BAKS  THEBE." 


THE    INFINITUDE    OF    COMMONPLACE. 

BY  A  WILCOX-WORSHIPPER. 

["  The  charm  of  her  verse  is  in  itself  a  sufficient  refutation  of  the 
ridiculous  assumption  that  the  appeal  of  poetry  has  passed.  There 
may  have  been  poets  who  have  essayed  to  sing  in  a  more  sublime 
strain.  But  the  very  fact  that  Mrs.  Wilcox  points  us  to  the  infini- 
tude of  the  commonplace  proves  how  completely  she  has  identified 
herself  with  what  must  bo  the  mission  of  all  art,  and  especially  poetry, 
in  the  future." — R.  DIMSDALE  STOCKEB.] 

(The  gifled  authoress  speaks.) 

I  WILL  be  kind.    Though  idiots  often  madly 

Rush  in  where  expert  angels  never  tread, 
I  will  endure  their  wild  incursions  gladly 

And  cheerfully  bind  up  each  broken  head. 
There  is  no  vital  use  in  being  bitter; 

There  is  no  joy  in  acrimonious  jeers ; 
There  is  more  virtue  in  a  simple  titter 

Than  in  a  wilderness  of  clever  sneers. 

I  will  be  strong.    There  is  no  room  for  weakness. 

The  feeble  folk  go  to  the  wall  at  length ; 
And  I  should  never  have  achieved  uniqueness 

But  for  a  brain  of  quite  colossal  strength. 
Yet  must  I  never  use  it  as  a  tyrant, 

Or  trample  on  the  unobtrusive  toad, 
But  rather  stimulate  the  young  aspirant 

To  tread  with  fearless  feet  the  upward  road. 

I  will  be  sane.     Although  a  bard  has  written 

Great  wits  to  madness  closely  are  allied, 
Madmen  at  largo,  or  men  by  mad  dogs  bitten, 

Are  deleterious  to  the  countryside. 
But  short  of  madness  there  are  many  mortals 

Who  frequently  betray  a  mental  twist, 
And,  if  they  entered  an  asylum's  portals, 

Indubitably  never  would  be  missed. 


I  will  bo  sweet.    Though  salt  is  sometimes  tonio 

There  is  no  balsam  in  the  boundless  brine, 
And  in  a  soil  where  saline  streaks  are  chronic 

The  kindly  fruits  of  nature  peak  and  pine. 
Mine  be  the  noble  task  to  chant  and  chirrup 

In  numbers  honey-sweet  for  man's  relief, 
To  ease  the  cosmic  ill  with  soothing  syrup 

And  sugar-coat  the  acrid  pill  of  grief. 

I  will  be  good.     The  high-born  and  the  haughty 

By  sin  are  whelmed  in  dark,  untimely  doom  ; 
NAPOLEON,  though  magnificent,  was  naughty, 

And  closed  his  life  in  exile  and  in  gloom. 
Great  prelates,  too,  unworthy  of  the  mitre, 

Have  smirched  their  fame  by  deeds  of  ill  report ; 
And  SAPPHO,  though  a  meritorious  writer, 

Would  not,  I  think,  have  been  received  at  Court. 

I  will  be  great.     Some  lives  are  all  sedateness, 

And  some  like  sabres  in  their  scabbards  rust, 
And  some  tremendous  souls  are  born  to  greatness, 

And  some  again  have  greatness  on  them  thrust. 
My  place  is  with  the  third ;  sent  as  a  healer, 

To  mitigate  mankind's  momentous  lot, 
I  shall  endure,  the  only  ELLA  WHEELER, 

When  even  MARTIN  TUPPER  is  forgot. 


A  testimonial  from  the  catalogue  of  a  Live  Fish 
Company : — 

"Dear  Sir, — We  are  so  delighted  with  the  delicious  fish  of  this 
morning  and  wo  are  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  same.  Kindly  send 
in  bill  as  often  as  you  like." 

This  is  just  the  line  we  have  often  taken  ourselves  with 
regard  to  our  own  commodities,  but  it  has  never  been 
popular. 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHAEIVARL— OCTOBER  29.   1913. 


THE    IRREPRESSIBLE. 

MB.  Awn*  (waiting  for  the  "patter  "to  finish).  "THIS  IS  THE  PART  THAT  MAKES  ME  NERVOUS!11 


OCTOBER  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


371 


A   WANT    OF   TACT. 

"OH — EB — I   WANT  THIS  PHOTOGRAPH  FRAMED.      I   WANT  IT  D3SS  VERY  NICELY,   WITH  A   CBEAX   UOC2CI   AND   A   GOLD  " 

41  YES,  MISS ;     I     UNDEBSTAND,   MlSS  ;     EXACT!,*    SIMIHB  TO  TH8   LAST,   MlSS." 


ONCE   UPON    A    TIME. 

WASTE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  were  three 
toadstools.  They  were  not  the  fat 
brown  ones  like  buns  with  custard 
underneath,  or  the  rich  crimson  ones 
with  white  spots,  or  the  delicate  purple 
ones.  They  were  merely  small  white 
ones,  a  good  deal  more  like  mushrooms 
than  it  was  quite  fair  to  make  them. 

They  sprang  up  within  a  few  inches 
of  each  other,  and  witli  every  moment 
added  to  their  stature,  and,  as  they 
grew,  they  discussed  life  in  all  its 
branches  a-nd  planned  for  themselves 
distinguished  careers  .  .  . 

The  eldest  was  not  more  than  eighteen 
hours  old,  which  is  a  good  age  for  a 
toadstool,  when  an  angry  boy  on  his 
way  homo  from  the  village  school 
kicked  him  into  smithereens  for  not 
being  a  mushroom  —  which  is  the 
toadstool's  unpardonable  sin. 

The  younger  brothers,  watching  the 
tragedy,  vowed  to  fulfil  their  destiny 
with  better  success  than  that  and  forth- 


with they  prepared  a  placard  that  ran 
as  follows  (in  a  form  of  words  which 
was  not  perhaps  strictly  original,  but, 
like  most  of  the  jokes  at  which  audiences 
laugh,  was  none  the  worse  for  that) : — 


To  THE  NOBILITY  AND  GENTBY 

OF  TOADLAND. 

YOU  WANT  THE  BEST  SEATS. 
WE  HAVE  THEM. 


Having  placed  this  notice  in  a  pro- 
minent position  they  waited. 

For  some  time  nothing  happened, 
and  then  an  extremely  portly  and 
aristocratic  toad,  with  eyes  of  burning 
amber  and  one  of  the  most  decorative 
waistcoats  out  of  Bond  Street,  waddled 
towards  the  expectant  brothers,  read 
the  advertisement,  and  sat  heavily 
down  on  the  nearer  of  them.  I  need 
hardly  say  that  the  stool  was  crushed 
to  pieces  beneath  his  weight,  while  the 
toad  himself  sustained,  as  the  papers 
say,  more  than  a  few  contusions,  and 
was  in  a  disgusting  temper. 

It  was  not  long   afterwards  that  a 


small  girl,  who  had  been  sent  out  by 
her  mother  to  pick  mushrooms,  added 
the  surviving  brother  to  her  basket  with 
a  little  cry  of  triumph.  "  What  a 
beauty ! "  she  said,  and  hurried  home 
with  the  prize. 

But  her  mother  was  very  sharp  about 
it.  "  Do  you  want  us  all  in  our  graves?  " 
she  said  as  she  picked  the  toadstool  up 
and  flung  it  into  the  ashbin. 

"  And  not  even  the  satisfaction  of 
poisoning  any  one ! "  he  murmured  as 
life  left  him. 

From  the  report  of  a  lecture  in 
The  Birkenhead  News  : — 

"The  modern  tongue  is  capable,  in  com- 
petent hands,  of  rendering  the  subtlest  dis- 
tinctions of  thought,  feeling,  and  imagin- 
ation." 

Hence  the  expression  to  "  hold  the 
tongue." 

"  Ex-SHAEPHOENOMIStOLOGY. 

Second  Edition  enlarged." 
"  Times"  Literary  Supplement. 

Yet  pessimists  continue  to  complain 
that  it  is  a  frivolous  age. 


372 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  29,  1913. 


MR.   PUNCH'S    FOOTBALL   EXPERTS. 

ALTHOUGH  Mr.  Punch  has  watched 
with  sympathy  the   spirited   policy  of 
one  of  his  contemporaries  in  employing 
such  authorities  on  the  winter  game  as 

between   these    two    football  -  centres 
with  ever-increasing  activity.    In  1909, 
the   Tigers   spent    £3,501  195.  3d.   on 
their  front  lino.     Newcastle  replied  by 
purchasing  Scotsmen  to  the   value   of 
£4,002  18s.  M.     In   1910,   Newcastle 

,-,«;/!    /war     civ     t.hnnsa.nd     nounds     for 

serve,  so  long  will  this  inane  state  o 
things  continue.     Women  are  not  per 
mitted   to   become  members   of   Firs 
League   teams.      What  is  the  result  i 
Idiotic   and   ineffectual   straggles   lik< 
Saturday's     at     Leytonstone.      These 
footballers  do  not  know  the  rudiment,! 

Lady  HELEN  FORBES 
RIDGE  to  report  football  matches,  ho 
feels  that  the  scheme  is  capable  of 
development.  There  are  others  able 
and  willing  to  let  the  public  have  pan- 
pictures  of  tho  game  they  love  so  well. 
Graphic  accounts  of  last  Saturday's 
matches  by  some  of  his  own  corps  of 
special  reporters  are  appended  : — 

BERMONDSEY  HORNETS 

7. 
HAXLEY  WOLVES. 

D-V-D  LL-TD  G-HGE. 
Hornets  2.     Wolves  0. 

I  am  a  comparatively 
poor  man,  but,  if  1  were  half 
as  poor  as  the  work  in 
front  of  goal  of  the  Hanley 
Wolves,  I  should  be  tempt- 
ed to  give  up  the  Stock 
Exchange  altogether  as  too 
risky.  It  was  this,  com- 
bined with  the  spectacle  of 
that  great  track  of  unculti- 
vated land  (land  which 
might  have  bean  congested 
with  happy  and  prosperous 
agriculturists),  that  spoiled 
my  Saturday  afternoon. 
And  this  is  going  on  all  over 
the  country,  while  British 
labourers  emigrate  to 
America.  I  spoke  to  a 
Bermondsey  farmer  after 
the  match,  and  he  gave  me  some  figures 
which  appalled  me.  Every  footballer 
destroys  twenty  turnips  a  day.  You 
cannot  have  half-backs  and  agricultural 
prosperity.  You  must  choose  between 
outside  rights  and  inside  wrongs.  I 
looked  into  the  housing  of  the  specta- 
tors. In  many  cases  whole  families 
were  packed  into  a  space  which  a  sar- 
dine would  have  considered  inadequate. 
I  saw  ten  reporters  huddled  together 
in  a  single  room.  I  have  no  remedy  to 
suggest.  I  merely  mention  the  facts. 

PLYMOUTH  TIGERS 

v. 
NEWCASTLE  CORPORALS. 

By 
W-NST-N  CH-RCH-LL. 

Tigers  2.     Newcastle  2. 
The  pointless  struggle  between  these 


over    six 


hacks  of  tho  Dreadnought  class.     Tho  of  warfare.     Not  a  single  member  of 


Tigers  responded  by  laying  down  a  new 
goal-keeper  at  a  cost  of  well  into  the 
seventh  thousand.  And  so  it  has  gone 
on  ever  since.  Now,  the  proposal 
which  I  put  forward  in  the  name  of 
His  Majesty's  Government  is  simply 
this.  Let  Plymouth  say  to  Newcastle  : 
"  If  you  will  put  oft'  buying  centre- 
forwards  for  twelve  months  from  the 
ordinary  date  when  you  would  have 
opened  negotiations 
dealers,  we  will  put 


with   tho 
off   buyin; 


slave- 
half- 


backs in  absolutely  good  faith  for  exactly 


either  eleven  carried  with  him  on  to 
the  fie'.d  a  bomb,  a  horse-whip  or  even 
a  hat -pin.  There  was  an  autocratic 
official  who,  I  believe,  is  known  as  the 
referee.  I  saw  this  man  blow  his 
whistle  and  refuse  to  allow  one  burly 
player  a  goal  which  ho  had  scored. 
What  did  the  player,  tho  craven,  do? 
Did  ho  hunger-strike,  like  a  man  of 
spirit?  No,  he  took  it  lying  down. 
For  the  rest,  the  HotstutTs  wear  rather 
sweet  shirts,  pink  relieved  with  a  green 
insertion  ;  and  the  Tuesday  Afternoons' 


the  same  period."     That  would  mean  !  goal-keeper  has  a  nice  face. 


HINTS   TO   MILLIONAIRES. 

HAVE  A  TAXIMETER  FITTED  TO  YOCB  PRIVATE  CAR  FOR  THE  BENEFIT 
OF  SOME  CHARITABLE  OBJECT  AND  BEND  THE  IOTAI,  BECJISTERED  EACH 
DAY  TO  THE  CHARITY. 


two   great   teams,    the   third   in  three  j  stated 
successive  matches,  encourages  me  to !  point. 


that  there  would  be  a  complete  holiday 
for  one  year  between  Plymouth  and 
Newcastle.  The  relative  strength  of 
the  two  teams  would  be  absolutely 
unchanged. 

SHEFFIELD  TUESDAY  AFTERNOON 

r. 

LEYTONSTONE  HOTSTUFFS. 
By 

S-LV-A   P-NKH-EST. 

Tuesday  Afternoons  0.     Hotstufl's  0. 

The  crude  exhibition  of  masculine 
fatuity  which  attracted  30,000  pre- 
judiced males  to  L3ytonstone  on  Satur- 
day ended,  as  one  might  have  foreseen, 
in  a  result  which  was  no  result  —  a 
result  as  negative  and  fruitless  as  the 
Government's  opposition  to  the  Cause. 
A  pointless  draw,  I  heard  it  called  by 
one  man.  Another,  a  moment  later, 


think   that   the  time  is   now  ripe  for 
some  sano  arrangement  for  the  reduc- 


tion   of    excessive   armaments, 
years   team  -  building    has     gone 


For 


that  each  side   had   secured   a 
Can  anything  better  illustrate 


the  futilities  ar.d  contradictions  of  this 
man-made  sport  ?     As  long  as  football 
is  confined  to  one  sex,  as  long  as  Man 
on 'guards  it  jefJously  as  his  special  pre- 


"  THINGS    I     CANNOT 

FORGET." 
(Published  to-day.} 

THIS  charming  and  bril- 
liant volume  of  reminis- 
cences, issued  by  Mr.  Good- 
leigh  Chump,  is  tho  work 
of  that  universal  favourite, 
Mr.  "  Hobby  "  Binns,  the 
brother  of  that  distinguished 
American  publicist,  Senator 
Binns,  and  forms  an  agree- 
able pendant  to  the  volume 
which  recently  emanated 
from  the  cultured  pen  of 
Mr.  FREDERICK  MARTIN. 
Wealthy,  cultivated,  and 
accomplished,  Mr.  Binns  has  travelled 
everywhere  and  met  everybody — at 
least  everybody  who  is  also  somebody] 
His  recollections  range  from  Mr.  GLAD- 
STONE to  LOLA  MONTEZ,  and  they  have 
the  merit  of  being  expressed  in  an 
admirably  vivid  style,  as  the  following 
extracts  will  abundantly  prove.  For 
example,  when  Mr.  Binns  asked  Mr. 
GLADSTONE  whether  he  was  an  Anti- 
Semite,  the  G.O.M.  replied, "  How  could 
1  be  when  my  name  is  a  translation  of 
Gluckstein  and  my  favourite  fish  is 
salmon  ?  "  And  yet  there  ara  those 
who  say  that  Mr.  GLADSTONE  had  no 
sense  of  humour ! 

Mr.  Binns,  staunch  republican  though 
he  is,  is  never  happier  than  when  he  is 
discussing  royal  or  imperial  personages. 
There  is  nothing  more  charming  in  the 
book  than  the  following  touching  anec- 
dote of  the  venerable  Emperor  of 
AUSTRIA  : — 

"  The  Emperor  of  AUSTRIA-HUNGARY 
was  at  Biarritz  in  the  'nineties,  and  I 
can  just  remember  once  receiving  a  des- 
pairing note  from  Mrs.  Hunter  Tufton, 


OCTOKEB  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


373 


CHRONIQUE    SCANDALEUSE. 


Gossip  (at  top  of  lier  voice  as  tube  train  rushes  along).  "  '  War  DO  I  STOP  TALKIXO  AT  THE  STATIONS ' 

BUrl'OSE  I  WANT  EVERYBODY  TO  HEAB  ALL  ABOUT  AUNT  SOPHIE  AND  THE  CHADFPEUB?" 


GOOD  G1BI.,  DO  VOO 


bidding  me  come  to  her  villa  at  once. 
'  Dear  old  Hobby,'  she  wrote,  '  I  am  in 
the  deuce  of  a  fix.  The  EIIP.  proposes 
to  dine  with  me  to-morrow  night,  and 
I  've  only  fourteen  footmen.  For  the 
love  of  goodness  send  me  a  few  of  your 
men,'  I  sent  back  word  at  once  that 
I  should  be  delighted  to  send  six  of 
my  men,  who  were  all  much  pleased 
at  the  idea  of  serving  the  EMPEKOB. 
On  the  evening  all  went  well  until 
the  sorbet  was  served,  when  my 
head  valet  lost  his  nerve  and  upset 
the  sorbet  down  the  back  of  the 
EJIFKBOR'S  neck.  My  man  began  to 
sob  and  cry,  saying,  '  For  Heaven's 
sake  forgive  me,  Sire ;  I  have  a  wife 
and  five  small  children.'  FKANZ  JOSEF 
then,  as  always,  bohaved  like  a  perfect 
gentleman.  He  turned  to  the  man, 
who  was  ashen-grey  with  fright,  and 
said,  '  Nunquani  menu,  old  cocky ;  it 
wasn't  your  fault.  I  leaned  back  just 
at  the  wrong  moment.  Say  no  more 
about  it ; '  and  in  ten  minutes  he  had 
changed  into  another  uniform  and  was 
back  again  at  the  dinner-table  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  My  man's  com- 
ment to  me  afterwards  was  thoroughly 


characteristic :  '  Oh  1  Sir,  fancy  an 
Emperor  being  so  considerate.  Why, 
he  might  have  cut  my  head  off  on  the 
spot  1 ' ' 

OUR  TAINTED  EDUCATION. 

A  CORRESPONDENT  who  signs  himself 
"  Paterfamilias,"  but  whom  wo  believe 
to  be  nothing  of  the  sort,  writes  to 
protest  against  the  introduction  of 
politics  into  the  school  teaching  of  the 
present  day.  "  The  English  History 
lesson,"  he  very  truly  says,  "  has  long 
been  a  medium  for  disseminating  the 
particular  political  opinions  of  the 
teacher;  and,  in  arithmetic,  sums  in- 
volving a  mental  struggle  with  exports 
and  imports  are,  in  my  opinion,  to  be 
gravely  suspected.  I  need  hardly  add 
that  a  vast  amount  of  criticism  of  the 
War  Office  can  be  introduced  into  balf- 
an-hour's  lesson  in  geography.  And 
the  evil  continues  to  spread. 

"  Not  very  long  ago  I  discovered 
my  youngest  child  in  the  bathroom 
moistening  a  postage  stamp  with  a 
bath-sponge,  because  she  had  been 
instructed  at  school  that  microbes  lurk 


in  the  gum  of  stamps  and  that  to  lick 
them  imperils  the  health.  I  wrote  at 
once  a  strong  letter  to  her  school- 
mistress, objecting  to  the  unloading  of 
this  pernicious  political  nonsense  on  to 
the  immature  intelligence  of  a  child  of 
tender  years,  and  a  somewhat  curt 
reply  came  back  to  the  effect  that  it 
was  not  politics  at  all,  but  hygiene ! 

"  Yesterday  my  son  came  home  from 
school  full  of  new  facts  about  what  his 
schoolmaster  is  pleased  to  call  natural 
history.  But,  Sir,  only  a  brief  question- 
ing sufficed  to  reveal  that  under  the 
guise  of  nature-study  my  child  is  learn- 
ing some  of  the  most  dangerous  political 
doctrines  of  the  day,  especially  those 
relating  to  the  foodstuffs  in  favour 
among  the  feathered  dwellers  in  our 
woods  and  copses. 

"  Hygiene  and  natural  history,  for- 
sooth 1  Ten  minutes  in  almost  any 
railway  compartment  in  the  country 
are  surely  enough  to  convince  anybody 
with  a  pair  of  ears  that  such  matters, 
far  from  being  merely  associated  with 
hygiene  and  natural  history,  have  be- 
come the  very  life-blood  of  the  politics 
o£  our  time." 


374 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  29,  1913. 


THE   PATIENT. 

"  No,  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  I  will  not." 

"  \Vlwt,  you  won't  take  your  medicine?  " 

"  No,  nothing  shall  induce  me  oven  to  look  at  it." 

"But  is  that  wise?" 

"  No,  it  is  probably  the  height  of  folly,  but  I  am  beyond 
caring  for  that.  I  have  a  gnawing  pain  in  my— Ow-ow, 
there  it  is  again— in  my  right  big  toe,  and  you  choose  that 
moment  to  talk  to  me  about  medicine.  Is  that  tactful? 
Francesca,  I  had  expected  better  things  of  you." 

"But  Dr.  Willett  said  it  would  relievo  you." 

"  How  can  he  know  ?  "  I  said.  "  1  have  had  one  close  of 
his  hateful  fluid,  and  I  'm  sure  it  has  thrown  me  back  a 
•whole  week." 

"•Oh,  my  dear,"  said  Francesca,  "how  can  you  possibly 

tell  ?  "  ' 

"  And,  if  I  can't  tell,  who  can  ?  Dr.  Willett  can't.  I,  at 
any  rate,  can  feel  what  it  does  to  mo.  It  gives  me  cold 
shudders  up  and  down  my  back  and  makes  mo  want  to 
cry.  Can  that  be  a  good  result?  " 

"  Did  you  really  want  to  cry  ? "  she  said  with  some 
interest. 

"  I  did,"  I  said.     "  I  often  do  want  to,  but  I  restrain  my- 
self.   I  have  one  of  those  stern  and  unbending  natures — 
Ow-ow,  it 's  got  me  again.     Francesca,  can't  you  do  some- 
thing?    Must  you  stand  there  and  smile?  " 

"  I  will  banish  my  smile,"  she  said,  "  since  it  seems  to 
distress  you;  but  I  was  thinking  of  your  stern  and 
unbending  nature." 

"  And  now,"  1  said  bitterly,  "  you  are — how  shall  I 
express  it? — you  are  quoting  me  against  myself.  You 
are  chopping  straws  with  a  miserable  invalid  who  is  nailed 
to  his  bed  and  cannot  lift  a  foot  to  defend  himself.  Is  that 
generous?  Is  it  even  just?  Great  Heavens,  Francesca, 
how  do  you  suppose  a  big  toe  like  mine  can  endure  to  have 
straws  chopped  at  it  ?  Oh,  oh." 

"  There,"  she  said,  "  I  knew  you  'd  do  yoursslf  harm  if 
you  got  excited." 

"  I  was  never  calmer  in  my  life,"  I  said. 

"Then  this  is  the  moment  for  smoothing  your  pillow  and 
helping  you  to  put  on  your  flannel  jacket." 

"  You  shall  smooth  my  pillow,  if  you  like ;  but  you  shall 
not  speak  of  my  old  rowing  coat  as  a  flannel  jacket." 

'•Certainly  not,"  she  said,  "if  you  object.  We  women 
have  no  sense  of  the  dignity  of  things,  have  we?  " 

"  Now  you  are  getting  peevish,"  I  said.  "  I  cannot  bear 
people  to  be  peevish.  And,  as  to  my  old  rowing  coat,  I 
simply  couldn't  face  it  in  this  condition.  It  would  be  a 
mockery." 

"  But  it  will  keep  you  warm,"  she  said  ;  and  with  a  few 
deft  movements  she  robed  me  in  it. 

"  There,"  she  said,  "  you  '11  be  more  comfortable  now." 

"  If  you  think  so,  Francesca,  you  deceive  yourself.  I 
have  not  been  at  all  comfortable,  and  therefore  I  cannot 
be  more  comfortable.  That  stands  to  reason." 

"  I  know,"  she  said.     "  It  is  a  shame." 

"Yes,  it  is.  I  wonder  why  I  of  a'.l  men  should  have 
the  gout." 

"  Oh,"  she  said  cheerfully,  "  that 's  easily  answered. 
Dinners,  you  know,  and  champagne  and  port.  I  'm  told 
they're  all  deadly." 

"  And  that,"  1  said,  "  shows  how  you  misjudge  me." 

"  But  you  have  had  some  dinners,  you  know." 

"  Only  one  a  day,  and  that  a  meagre  one." 

"  And  you  have  drunk  some  port  and  champagne." 

"  A  thimbleful  here  and  there,"  I  said.  "  How  can  that 
matter?"  < 

"  But  Dr.  Willett " 


"I  will  not  have  Dr.  Willett  thrown  in  my  teeth." 

"  Well,  he  has  to  examine  your  tongue,  you  know." 

"  Francesca,  your  jests  are  ill-timed.  I  want  you  to 
realize  that  my  gout  is  not  rich  man's  gout,  duo  to  excess 
in  eating  and  drinking.  It  h  poor  man's  gout,  due  to 
under-feeding  and  over-working  and  worry." 

"They  all  say  that,"  said  Francesca.  "  Sir  William  Bowles 
is  most  emphatic  about  his  gout,  and  Charlie  Carter  always 
tells  me  he  can't  make  out  why  ho  should  have  it,  living 
such  a  simple  life  as  he  does." 

"There  you  are,  you  see.  The  men  who  ought  to  know 
best  all  agree  with  me." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  she  said.  "  They  both  said  they  quite 
understood  why  you  bad  the  gout,  with  your  City  dinners 
and  all  that." 

"  I  despise  them  and  their  opinions." 

"  That 's  right.  It  '11  do  you  good.  And  now  I  must  go 
out.  I  've  got  to  see  Mrs.  Holiister." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  are  going  to  desert  me  for  a 
Hollister?" 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  'm  sure  you  ought  to  rest.  You  've 
been  talking  a  great  deal." 

"I  have  scarcely,"  I  said,  "opened  my  mouth.  However, 
if  you  must  go,  go  at  once." 

"  Shall  I  ssnd  Frederick  in  to  entertain  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  am  not  up  to  Frederick,  though  he  is 
only  six  years  old." 

"  He  is  a  very  intelligent  boy." 

"That 's  just  it,"  I  said.  "  He 's  too  intelligent.  He  has 
suddenly  developed  a  passion  for  the  multiplication  table. 
He  would  ask  me  eleven  times  eleven,  or  eleven  times  twelve, 
and  I  should  not  be  able  to  answer.  I  am  afraid  he  would 
cease  to  respect  me." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  I  will  withdraw  Frederick,  but 
only  on  condition  that  you  take  your  medicine." 

"Bah!  "  I  said. 

"  Just  one  good  gulp  will  do  it  ...  There,  it  wasn't  so 
bad  after  all,  was  it  ?  " 

" Frttncesca,"  I  said,  "it  was  simply  execrable." 

E.  C.  L. 

THE  PERFECT  SMOKE. 

(A  Hint  to  Young  Men.) 
I  NEVER  loved  the  baleful  briar- wood, 

Nor  longed  for  any  herb  but  asphodel, 
But  then  they  said  it  did  the  system  good, 

Nerves  and  all  that.     I  bought  a  pipe — and  fell. 
Pale  and  alone  I  sucked  the  sacred  reed ; 
I  drew  deep  breaths,  and  chunks  of  fragrant  weed 
Swept  through  the  orifice,  a  good  old  feed, 
And  golden  juice  from  some  perennial  well. 

A  cold,  cold  sweat  stood  wanly  on  my  brow, 

Yet  still  I  plied  its  vile  unnatural  cause. 
While  hardened  smokers  came  and  showed  me  bow, 
And  took  great  pains  to  tell  me  all  their  laws — 
How  such  a  herb  was  fit  for  men  more  skilled, 
And  such  was  mild,  or  hot  or  opium-filled ; 
I  hated  it — and  them — and  yet,  weak-willed, 
Held  ever  some  foul  tube  between  my  jaws. 

For,  while  I  hated,  habit  held  me  tight, 

Till  soon  I  saw  the  essence  of  the  show 
Was,  after  all,  to  keep  the  thing  alight — 
And  why  need  that  impair  the  vitals  so  ? 

One  can  have  all — the  something  hard  to  chew, 
The  something  (not  too  difficult)  to  do — 
Yet  never  draw  the  fatal  juices  through, 
Nor  die  of  smoker's  heart.     You  simply  blow. 


OCTOBER  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


375 


'  !        i"i 

.          il 


. 

1       w  mm 


*kM 


DETACHMENT. 

Albert  (always  eafjcr  to  improve  himself ).  "  AUNTIE,  WAS  KATHAHISE  OJ1  AKAQON  THE  FIFTH  OB  SIXTH  WIFE  OF  HENBT  THE  EIGHTH?' 


OUE  COUNTRY  DIAEY. 
(By  the  "  Eural  On-lookcr.) 
Saturday,  October  25th,  1913.— The 
reference  made  by  Mr.  LI/OYD  GEORGE, 
in  the  opening  speech  of  the  Land 
Campaign,  to  the  serious  depredations 
made  by  pheasants  has  brought  me  a 
huge  mass  of  correspondence.  1  under- 
stand that  among  economists  this  state- 
ment is  generally  regarded  as  the  most 
arresting  and  important  item  in  all 
that  terrible  indictment.  But  I  am 
myself  more  closely  in  touch  with 
sportsmen  and  naturalists,  who  also 
have  much  to  say  upon  the  subject. 
I  have,  for  instance,  a  letter  from  a 
Highland  Laird  who  writes  (from  his 
castle  on  the  Wee  Wheen  Saft  Estate, 
near  the  Yetts  of  Drumtoolie) : —  "  The 
habits  of  black-game  in  this  district 
have  often  been  a  source  of  considerable 
surprise  to  visiting  naturalists.  During 
the  month  of  September  they  would 
seem  to  subsist  almost  entirely  upon  a 
diet  of  mushrooms,  and  they  frequently 
approach  quite  close  to  the  house  iu 
their  voracious  search  for  this  succulent 


fungus.  We  often  pot  them  from  the 
bedroom  windows  on  wet  afternoons. 
But  reformers  are  beginning  to  feel 
that  some  compensation  is  due  to  the 
school  -  children  who,  if  they  cannot 
bring  homo  to  their  mothers  the  cus- 
tomary supplies,  will  naturally  bo 
deprived  of  their  winter  ketchup." 

"  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  statement 
does  not  surprise  me  in  the  least," 
writes  "An  Old  Naturalist"  from  Bally- 
folly,  Co.  Down.  "  Anyone  who  has 
ever  seen  the  wild  duck  in  this  district 
'  gathering  up  the  butter-cups  on  the 
lawn  after  a  shower  of  rain  will  have 
no  difficulty  at  all  in  accepting  it." 

"  Small  Holder  "  writes  from  Kent  to 
the  effect  that  he  has  never  suffered  any 
inconvenience  from  pheasants ;  and  the 
CHANCELLOR,  in  his  opinion,  is  entirely 
upon  the  wrong  tack.  What  he  wants  is 
adequate  protection — or  compensation, 
or  both — in  the  matter  of  the  depreda- 
tions of  badgers.  It  is  perfectly  heart- 
rending, he  says,  to  observe  them  at 
work,  digging  up  potatoes. 

"  Let  the  whole  matter  be  fully 
ventilated,"  demands  a  certain  Market 


Gardener  (who  writes  from  The  Day 
Nurseries,  Chorley-cum-Bootle).  "  I 
can  tell  you  I  am  running  up  a  pretty 
bill  for  scarecrows  this  season. 
Business  is  becoming  almost  impossible 
owing  to  the  prevalence  of  coveys  of 
grouse  in  the  strawberry  beds." 

That  the  CHANCELLOR'S  powerful 
words  have  not  been  spoken  in  vain  ia 
already  made  sufficiently  clear  by  the 
sudden  and  startling  advance  in  the 
price  of  wire-netting. 

"  Advertiser  seeks  birth  in  wine  cellars." 
Advt.  in  "  Wine  and  Spirit  Trade  Record." 

To  be  born  in  the  purple  vats,  with  a 
silver  corkscrew  in  his  mouth — how  it 
must  appeal  to  Advertiser. 


"  Assistant  master  wanted  for  private  school 
in  Germany  ;  salary  £84 ;  Germany  unneces- 
sary."— Advt.  in  "  Manchester  Guardian." 

Perhaps;  but  still,  there  she  ia. 

"  A  very  picturesque  note  was  lent  by  a  corps 
of  Lascar  seamen  from  the  Anchor  Line  in 
their  Hue  native  costumes  and  red  turbines." 
Journal  of  Commerce. 

Both  picturesque  and  appropriate. 


376 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [OCTOBER  29.  1913. 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

••BETWEEN  SUNSET  AND  DAWN.' 
"Tin-:  GREEN  COCKATOO." 

SEVEN  hours  by  the  directions  in  the 
programme  —  actually  less  than  two 
hours  by  stage  reckoning — seem,  per- 
haps, a  short  allowance  of  time  for  a 
man  to  make  his  first  acquaintance 
with  a  woman,  become  intimate  with 
her  to  the  length  of  Christian  names, 
propose  elopement,  change  his  mind, 
and  then  stab  her  fatally  in  the  back. 
But  things  move  fast  in  a  doss-house, 
where  the  hesitancies  and  circumlocu- 
tions of  ordinary  life  are  apt  to  be 
ignored ,  and  matters  may  be  still 
further  accelerated  when  one  of  the 
parties  happens  to  be  mad. 

The  real  trouble  was  that  nobody, 
except,  perhaps,  the  madman  himself, 
was  in  the  secret  of  his  mental  estrange- 
ment. Looking  back,  one  recognises 
certain  indications  of  it ;  but  at  the  time, 
unfamiliar  as  we  were  with  the  accepted 
manners  of  a  doss-house  management, 
we  assumed  that  the  opprobrious 
terms  in  which  Jim  Harris  addressed 
his  mother,  constantly  offering  to 
"  wring  her  - —  -  neck,"  represented 
the  ordinary  filial  attitude  towards  a 
gin-sodden  parent  in  these  circles.  I 
admit  that  a  drunken  acquaintance  of 
his  did  hint  that  Jim  was  an  eccentric, 
but  as,  at  the  same  time,  he  referred 
contemptuously  to  his  habit  of  reading 
books,  we  merely  took  this  to  be  the 
author's  satire  upon  a  society  in  which 
a  taste  for  culture  was  regarded  as  a 
sign  that  its  owner  was  not  all  there. 

Some,  again,  might  have  suspected 
his  sanity  when  he  was  prepared  with 
an  easy  conscience  to  run  away  with 
another  man's  wife,  but  was  put  off  by 
the  fact  that  she  had  told  her  husband 
a  lie  about  his  feelings  for  her.  Per- 
sonally, I  trace  no  indication  of  mad- 
ness in  this  nice  distinction  on  a  point 
of  honour.  Indeed,  I  found  so  much 
method  in  the  madness  of  his  final  act 
that  it  seemed  to  me  the  most  reason- 
able solution  of  the  difficulty.  It  was 
impossible  to  let  her  return  to  the 
savagery  of  her  legal  husband;  and, 
since  it  was  unthinkable  that  she  should 
be  allowed  to  go  on  the  streets,  the  only 
alternative  was  that  he  should  go  off  with 
her,  a  scheme  from  which  her  instincts 
had  always  revolted,  and  which  had 
been  abandoned  by  him  on  the  ground 
of  her  proved  capacity  for  lying.  So  he 
killed  her,  in  the  certain  knowledge 
that  he  was  saving  her  from  a  life  of 
horror  or  shame,  and  in  the  vague  hope 
that  he  was  sending  her  straight  to 
heaven,  and  might  possibly  follow  her 
by  way  of  the  gallows. 

One  was  reminded  of  the  spiritual 
sanity  that  inspired  the  madman  in 


BROWNING'S  poem,  Porphyria's  Lover, 
where  the  girl's  soul  is  saved  by  the 
killing  of  her  body : — 

' '  I  found 

A  thing  to  do,  and  all  her  hair 
In  one  long  yellow  string  I  wound 
Three  times  her  little  throat  around 
And  strangled  her." 

Mr.  NORMAN  McKiNNEi,  has  become 
so  habituated  to  the  brutal  method,  of 
which  lie  is  a  past  master,  that  he  finds 
difficulty  in  relaxing  his  facial  muscles 
to  the  semblance  of  amorous  infatua- 
tion. But  this  only  lent  an  air  of 


BETWEEN  9.45  AND  11  P.M. 

(1)  Mr.  NOKMAN  McKiNNEL,  as  Jim  Harris, 
does  his  great  knife-in-the-back  feat. 

(2)  Mr.  NOBMAN  McKiNNEL,  as  Henry,  does 
it  again. 

naturalness  to  what,  in  the  play,  pur- 
ported to  be  a  first  essay  in  love- 
making.  It  seemed  to  me  a  very  intel- 
ligent performance,  but  then — and  I 
say  it  without  boastfulness — experience 
has  given  me  no  standard  of  doss-house 
manners  to  go  by.  Mr.  EDMOND  BKEON, 
as  Bill  Higgins,  the  drunken  husband, 
looked  the  part  to  admiration.  Miss 
ADA  KING  was  an  astoundingly  lifelike 
figure  as  Mrs.  Harris,  and,  whether 
or  not  the  name  was  chosen  by  design, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  imaginary 
bosom-friend  of  Sairy  Gamp  has  now 
become  incarnate.  But  my  deepest 
gratitude  I  reserve  for  Miss  MAY 


BLAYNEY,  in  the  part  of  Liz  Higgins. 
Here  we  did  not  simply  say,  "  This 
looks  like  a  clever  piece  of  play-acting, 
a  tour  de  force  in  something  outside  the 
common  experience";  rather  we  felt, 
by  an  intuition  which  responded  to  her 
own,  that  she  had  merged  her  person- 
ality in  that  of  the  woman,  body  and 
soul. 

The  Green  Cockatoo,  a  "  grotesque  " 
in  one  Act,  which  followed  this  grim 
little  tragedy  in  the  "  Grand  Guignol  " 
vein,  was  the  name  of  a  subterranean 
tavern  in  Paris  which  the  aristocracy 
used  to  frequent  for  the  joy  of  meeting 
various  desperadoes,  who  recounted  the 
story  of  their  crimes.  Actually  they 
were  just  innocent  mummers  who 
flattered  themselves  that  they  were 
imposing  upon  the  credulity  of  their 
audience,  though  the  habiluds  of  the 
place  had,  of  course,  got  beyond  the 
stage  of  deception. 

Among  the  actors  is  a  certain  Henry, 
who  has  just  married  a  notorious 
courtesan  of  the  stage,  and  proposes 
to  lead  the  simple  life  with  her  in  the 
provinces.  He  comes  in  to  tell  how  he 
has  found  his  wife  intriguing  with  the 
Due  de  Cadignan  and  lias  killed  that 
nobleman.  The  old  hands  in  the  stage- 
audience  regard  his  performance  as  a  very 
fine  sample  of  histrionics ;  but  so  circum- 
stantial and  probable  is  his  story  that 
we  in  the  other  audience  are  left  in 
doubt  whether  he  has  not  been  giving 
us  a  slice  of  actual  life.  Meanwhile 
Henry  learns  from  the  evidence  of  an 
actual  criminal  (who  happens  to  find 
himself  in  this  atmosphere  of  imagined 
crime  and  can't  get  anyone  to  listen  to 
his  true  tale  of  murder)  that  at  least 
a  part  of  his  story  is  true :  that  his 
wife  has  indeed  been  unfaithful  to  him. 
At  this  moment  the  alleged  corpse 
enters,  less  concerned  about  his  love- 
affair  than  about  the  Revolutionary  mob 
that  holds  the  streets  outside.  Henry 
at  once  plants  a  knife  in  his  betrayer's 
back  (Mr.  McKiNNEi/s  second  mortal 
blow  with  the  same  weapon  in  the 
same  quarter  of  the  anatomy  during 
the  course  of  one  evening),  and  in  the 
popular  enthusiasm  provoked  by  the 
announcement  of  the  fall  of  the  Bastille 
his  act  is  regarded  as  a  sound  and 
citizenlike  piece  of  work. 

An  excellent  little  drama,  full  of 
colour  and  movement,  and  with  a  nice 
ironic  blend  of  comedy  and  tragedy, 
but  perhaps  rather  complicated  and 
overcrowded  (there  are  two-and-twenty 
characters)  for  a  one- Act  play.  0.  S. 


Commercial  Candour. 

' '  What  Ho  I  She  Bumps  (a  slang  expression) 

aptly  describes  the  running  of  the car." 

Adi't.  in  "  Ceylon  Morning  Leader." 


OCTOBEII  29,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


377 


s.. 


Motorist  (ivlu)  IMS  run  over  a  patriardial  fowl).  "  BUT  THE  rmcE  is  VERY  HIGH.     THE  BIRD'S  is  HIS  SECOND  CHILDHOOD!" 
Irish  Peasant.  "Ii's  THE  THRUE  WORD  YEU  HONOUR'S  SPAKIS' ;    THIM  vouso  CHICKEXS  is  TERRIBLE  DEAK  AT  THIS  SAISOS." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THOUGH  some  of  his  novels  are  better  than  others  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  a  had  novel  by  Mr.  H.  DE  VERB 
STACPOOLE.  He  seems  incapable  of  those  side-slips  which 
mar  the  smooth  career  of  most  authors.  Just  where  on  the 
list  I  should  place  The  Children  of  t}ie  Sea  (HuTcniNSOx)  I 
hardly  know.  In  some  ways  it  is  the  finest  piece  of  work 
he  has  ever  done.  Very  few  novelists  could  have  treated 
so  horrible  a  central  idea  with  the  same  delicacy.  It  is 
extraordinary  how,  without  weakening  his  story  in  any 
way,  he  contrives'  to  avoid  grossness.  For  this  reason,  I 
think  I  should  place  the  book  at  the  head  of  his  list,  con- 
sidered purely  as  an  example  of  the  art  of  writing.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  enjoyed  reading  some  of  his  other  works 
a  good  deal  more.  Perhaps  "  bracketed  first  "  is  the  best 
decision.  Of  the  three  books  into  which  the  story  is 
divided,  I  liked  the  first  best,  which  is  set  in  the  Sea  of  Japan, 
and  culminates  with  the  adventure  which  ultimately  wrecked 
the  life  of  Erikr  Ericsson,  of  the  cable-laying  ship,  the 
President  Girling.  There  is  nobody  like  Mr.  STACPOOLE  for 
conveying  scenery  and  atmosphere  in  a  few  sentences ;  and 
he  is  at  his  best  in  his  descriptions  of  the  strange  colony  of 
sea-women  among  the  sand-hills  by  the  Japanese  telegraph 
station.  Iceland  is  the  scene  of  Books  Two  and  Three ; 
and  here  the  author,  though  just  as  successful  in  handling 
his  material,  has  less  attractive  material  to  handle.  It  is 
in  the  second  book  that  Schwalla,  the  cousin  of  his  ship- 
mate Magnus,  comes  into  Ericsson's  life.  Their  love-story 


has  something  of  the  quality  of  a  saga.  It  is  great  with  a 
greatness  in  keeping  with  its  background  of  sea  and  rocks 
and  ice;  and  over  it  broods  the  ever-deepening  shadow 
of  the  final  tragedy.  If  ever  there  was  a  story  devised  to 
inspire  pity  and  terror,  this  is  it.  I  do  not  recommend  the 
book  to  those  who  demand  a  happy  ending  from  their 
novels ;  and  I  doubt  whether  it  will  have  the  popularity  of 
its  predecessor  from  the  same  pen,  The  Order  of  Release ; 
but  there  can  be  no  two  opinions  as  to  its  artistic  merits. 


Tide  Marks  (METHUEN),  by  MARGARET  WESTRUP  (Mrs. 
SYDNEY  STACEY),  is  more  ambitious  than  a  delightful  work 
by  the  same  author  entitled  Elizabeth's  Children.  That 
j  earlier  book  had,  I  think,  a  quite  unusual  vein  of  humour 
I  and  sentiment,  and  the  characters  concerned  were  nice 
human  people  who  moved  and  spoke  in  a  very  real  amusing 
world.  But  now  1  am  afraid  that  Mrs.  STACEY  wishes  to 
advance  in  her  art,  and  I  suspect  that  the  simple  humours . 
of  Elizabeth's  Children  seem  to  her  very  tame  and  common- 
place beside  the  vagaries  of  her  new  heroine.  The  lady  in 
'  question  is,  to  quote  the  publishers,  "  the  child  of  a  gipsy . 
mother  and  an  ascetic  father,"  and  she  has  inherited,  of 
course,  a  quantity  of  temperament  which  she  splashes  about 
upon  the  rocks  and  moors  of  Cornwall.  It  is  regrettable 
that  Cornwall  lends  itself  rather  too  readily  to  loose  colour 
and  haphazard  passion,  and  I  am  beginning  to  feel  that 
its  uso  as  a  background  in  the  novels  of  the  day  is  very 
often  a  confession  of  weakness.  In  any  case,  the  sea  and 
the  gipsy  mother  and  the  ascetic  father  have  proved  quite  too 
much  for  Mrs.  STACEY'S  heroine,  who  is  as  unconvincing. 


378 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  29,  1913. 


and  unsatisfactory  a  creature  as  over  ate  pilchards.  The 
author  is  happier 'in  less  exotic  company,  and  I  hope  that' 
in  her  next  hook  she  will  give  us  one  of  her  own  delightful 
studies  in  ordinary  human  beings  rather  than  an  imitative 
portrait  of  a  girl  who  is  both  unpleasant  and  unreal. 

Of  all  the  female,  not  to  say  feminist,  stories  that  ever  I 
read,  Gold  Lace  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  seems  the  most 
entirely  characteristic.  So  much  so  that  I  question  whether 
the  mere  male  reviewer  is  qualified  to  appreciate  the  nuances 
of  Miss  ETHEL  COLHVHX  MAYNK'S  conception.  There  is 
re-ally  nothing  whatever  in  the  story  but  atmosphere;  that, 
however,  seems  to  me  to  be  fairly  well  done.  It  is  by  no 
means  a  pleasant  or  exhilarating  atmosphere,  but  that  is 
not  the  point.  The  scene  of  it  is  a  small  garrison  and 
naval  town  in  Ireland  (you  can  faiily  easily  supply  the 
original  of  it  for  yourself) ;  and  the  story,  such  as  it  is, 
treats  of  the  relations  between  the  migrant  Service  visitors 


scarify  (the  occasions  are  rare)  he  does  not  dip  his  pen I 

crave  pardon  for  varying  my  metaphors ;  but  what  are 
metaphors  meant  for  if  not  to  be  varied? — he  does  not  dip 
his  pen  in  vitriol,  hut  in  the  no  less  deadly  mixture  of  his 
subject's  own  egotism,  vanity,  ambition  and  unwarranted 
self-respect.  If  he  compares  Mr.  ST.  LOB  STKACHEY  with 
Pecksniff  it  is  only  because  Mr.  STRACHEY  himself  has,  in  a 
moment  of  what  may  be  called  unctuous  recklessness,  made 
that  very  comparison.  "  To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Webb,"  says 
Mr.  GARDINER  in  another  essay,  "  wo  are  statistics.  Wo  are 
marshalled  in  columns,  and  drilled  in  tables,  and  explained 
in  appendices.  We  do  not  move  to  some  far-off  divine 
event,  but  to  a  miraculous  perfection  of  machinery  and  a 
place  in  decimals."  The  book  is  full  of  these  agreeable 
flashes  of  literary  lightning. 


and  the  resident  youth  and  beauty  of  the  place. 
COLBURN  MAYNE  writes, 
I  take  i  t.with  some  sense 
of  Mission.  It  is  hers, 
as  it  was  the  part  of  her 
heroine,  Rhoda  Henry, 
the  Lend  on -bred  girl 
•who  came  to  stay  in 
Eainville,  to  implant 
in  the  minds  of  the 
local  ladies  a  divine 
discontent  with  the 
conditionsof  their  exist- 
ence, especially  as  it  is  j 
affected  by  the  visiting  | 
officers.  Flirted  with, 
even  embraced,  they 
might  be,  all  without 
knowing  anything 
really  of  the  lives  and 
homes  of  their  tem- 
porary swains.  Gold 
Lace  is,  in  short,  the 
story  of  men  with  a 
sweethe'art  in  every 
port,  told  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the 

sweetheart.  Rhoda  sets  herself  to  correct  all  this,  to  teach 
the  damsels  of  Eainville  independence  and  the  art  of 
keeping  itinerant  gold-lace  at  a  respectful  distance.  This 
process  the  author  poetically  calls,  "  The  Flowering  of 
London  Pride."  If  you  object  that  it  is  all  somewhat  thin, 
I  shall  have  nothing  to  say.  In  spite  of  some  reality  in  the 
characters,  my  own  impression  was  of  a  good  light  comedy 
theme  mishandled  as  serious  drama,  which  is  a  pity. 

In  Pillars  of  Society  (NisBETj  Mr.  A.  G.  GARDINER  gives 
us  a  second  selection  from  his  portrait-gallery  of  the  cele- 
brated. His  method  is  now  well  known.  The  brutal  spite 
that  leads  to  bludgeon-work  has  no  attraction  for  him. 
If,  for  instance,  fate  had  imposed  on  him  the  duty  of  doing 
Mr.  Blank's  work  as  editor  of  The  Hearing  Review,  it  is 
safe  to  assume  that  he  would  have  carried  his  task  through 
with  perfect  efficiency  and  despatch,  but  he  would  not  have 
left  on  his  readers  the  impression  that  they  had  been 
taking  part  in  a  low  public-house  brawl.  It  is  fortunate 
for  Liberals  that  their  champion  in  the  personal  style  of 
journalism  should  have  so  strong  a  sense  of  literary  courtesy 
that,  when  occasion  requires,  he  can  polish  off  his  foe  with 
a  series  of  rapier-thrusts  that  leave  the  victim  smiling  in 
spite  of  his  pain.  When  Mr.  GARDINER  wishes  to  slay  or 


-  If  you  intend  later  to  die  famous  you  cannot  be  too 
careful  now  in  your  choice  of  a  private  secretary,  seeing 


Miss  ETHEL   that  he  is  bound  to  turn   biographer  after  your  decease. 

CECIL  ERODES,  care- 
less of  many  things, 
was  particularly  incau- 
tious in  this  respect ; 
he  employed,  among 
others,  Mr.  GORDON  LK 
SUE un,  obviously  a 
most  competent  secre- 
tary, but  a  too  candid, 
minute  and  fearless 
critic  to  be  entrusted 
with  one's  posthumous 
fame.  I  had  always 
imagined  Mr.  EIIOUKS 
to  be  exclusively  em- 
ployed in  building  em- 
pires ;  if  ever  ho  con- 
descended to  the  smaller 
pastimes,  I  took  it  for 
granted  that  he  p3r- 
formed  them  with  an 
easy  grace  and  a  magni- 
ficent perfection.  I  now 
barn  from  Cecillihodes, 
the  Man  and  his  Work 
(MURRAY),  that  in  1m 

off-moments  he  shot  recklessly  and  indifferently,  sat  with 
insecurity  in  his  saddle,  ate  voraciously,  swore  copiously,  lost 
his  temper  often,  and  cracked  the  poorest  and  most  dismal  of 
jests.  Luckily  his  greatness  was  such  that  it  does  not  suffer 
by  so  intimate  an  exposure  of  his  minor  habits,  and  the 
biographer,  no  mere  detractor,  but  a  loyal,  if  scrupulous 
admirer,  is  alive  to  this.  It  may  have  been  his  deliberate 
intention  to  emphasise  the  god-like  attributes  of  his  subject 
by  setting  them  against  a  background  of  human  weaknesses; 
if  this  be  so,  Mr.  LE  SUEUR  has  succeeded  in  his  purpose  and 
committed  a  peculiarly  noble  act  of  friendship,  seeing  that 
it  was  the  habit  of  Mr.  ERODES,  ever  generous  with  his 
own  possessions,  to  make  lavish  distributions  also  from  the 
not  too  complete  wardrobes  of  his  secretaries.  This  one 
in  particular  has  reason  to  believe  that  what  was  once  his 
best  dress.-coat  is  at  the  moment  adorning  the  back  of  a 
Matabele  mendicant!  Mr.  LE  SUEUR  has  not  taken  his 
revenge,  but  has  paid  a  proper  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
his  master,  hero  and  despoiler. 


ANOTHER  WORLD'S  WORKER. 
THE  POST  OFFICE  EXPERT  WHO  DECIPHERS  DIFFICULT  ADDRESSES. 


More  Olympic  Talent. 

"Mr.  A.  Bassett,  farmer,  Acton  Trussell,  near  Stafford,  has  lifted 
a  potato  which  turns  the  scale  at  4J  Ibs." — Dundee  Advertiser. 

We  take  off  our  hat  to  the  Hercules  of  Acton  Trussell. 


NOVI'.MHKK    ,f),    191.'}.] 


PUNCH,   OR   TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


379 


CHARIVARIA. 

Tiiosr.  American  papers  \vliicli  hinted 
at  the  possibility  of  war  between  their 
country  and  ours  on  the  subject  of 
Mexico  did  not  know  what  they  were 
talking  about.  The  preparations  for  the 
celebration  of  tho  One  Hundred  Years' 
IVaci;  between  tho  two  nations  are  far 
too  advanced  to  allow  of  hostilities. 


was 


A  destroyer  of  destroyers 
launched  at  Chatham  last  week. 
The  Germans  are  now  said  to 
he  at  work  on  a  destroyer  of 
destroyers  of  destroyers.  And 
so  the  game  goes  on. 

On  the  occasion  of  his  visit 
to  Austria,  Heuter  tells  us,  the 

(ll.KMAN  1'jMl'KKOIt  shot  nO  fewer 

tha.-i  1,180  pheasants.  The 
statement,  originating  in  Liberal 
circles  in  this  country,  that  His 
Majesty  afterwards  received  a 
deputation  of  grateful  Mangold- 
wmv.elheimers,  is  declared  to 
bo  untrue.  ...  ... 

During  a  golf  match  at  Acton 
a  crow  picked  up  the  ball  of 
a  Mr.  A.  S.  SMITH  and,  after 
Hying  with  it  for  some  distance, 
dropped  it  in  a  deep  ditch.  It 
looks  as  if  the  bird  bad  mis- 
taken itself  for  a  pheasant,  and 
Mr.  SMITH  for  Mr.  LLOYD 

GliOlUH!.  ...    ... 

Mr.  REDMOND  is  said  to  be 
much  gratified  at  the  news  that 
an  influential  meeting  to  protest 
against  "Carsonism"  has  been 
held,  at  the  Ulster  town  of 
Ballymoney.  "  It 's  your  Bally- 
money  we  want  "  has  long  been 
the  Home  Rulers'  message  to 
Ulster. 


.  We  are  in  a  position  to  deny 
the    rumour    that    the    cruiser 
Terpsichore  was.  blown  up  the 
other  day  by  the  Italian  F  Rays.     We 
are  informed  that  the  explosion  took 
place  amid  British  Hoo  Rays. 


rant  happiness."  Provided,  we  take  it, 
that  the  thorns  have  been  previously 
removed. 

: 

Is  there  no  honour  among  winds'.' 
Among  those  who  were  injured  by  the 

tornado  which  visited  tho  Tuff  Valley 
last  week  was  a  Mr.  BUKK/I:. 

"  The  Gray's  Inn  rooks,  winch  were 
driven  from  their  nests  last  spring  by 
carrion  crows,  and  left  London,  have," 


KMI-KKOK  on  the  ground  of  its  boing 
inadequate,  and  it  is  possible  that  the 

monument  may  bo  taken  down. 
*  * 

Tho   Camera    Club    seems    to    havo 
very  spacious  quarters  in  John  Street, 

A.lelphi,  for  Tin-  I'ull  Mull  Gazette 
tells  us  that  amongst  its  exhibits  at  the 
present  moment  are  three  enlargements 

of    Mr.  G.   K.  ClIKSTKKTON. 


THE  FIFTH  OF  NOVEMBEK. 

CoMIXO  TO  OUB  BOMFIBE?" 

R\-THER.     WHOSK  HOUSE  ARK  von 

Tlia  Express  Announces,  "  now  returned 
to  the  gardens."  It  is  really  rather  too 
bad  to  publish  the  fact.  The  rooks, 
we  understand,  did  not  want  the  crows 
to  know  it. 


Tho  Secretary  of  the  National 
Anti-Vivisection  Society  is  alleged  to 
have  disappeared.  Also  £5,000.  If 
this  should  prove  to  bo  something  more, 
than  a  coincidence  it  will  perhaps  be  a 
consolation  to  the  Secretary  to  know 

that  in  any  event  the  Society  will  not-  believe  it  was  Petty  Larkiny. 
press  for  his  vivisection. 


A  correspondent  asks :  What  was  the 
nature  of  the  charge  brought  against 
tho  ladies  wbo  attempted  to  deport  the 
children  of  the  Dublin  strikers?  We 


*  * 


In  reviewing  a  song  entitled  "A 
Throne  of  Roses,"  a  contemporary 
says  :  --  "  Love  enthroned"  upon  roses 
conjures  up  iwi  irresistible  vision  of  f  rag- 


The President  of  the  League  of 
Patriots,  which  collected  the  money  for 
the  "Battle  of  the  Nations"  monument 
at  Leipzig,  has  refused  the  decoration 
conferred  upon  him  by  the  GKHMAN 


THE   TWELVE    GARDENERS. 

I  KNOW  twelve  gardeners  good 
To  make  my  garden  grow 

In  all  the  multitude 
Of  all  the  blooms  that  b'.osv  ; 

Sunflower  and  rose  and  pink, 
The  big  flowers  and  the  small, 

Yes,  any  sort  you  think, 

My  gardeners  serve  them  all. 

They  work  in  shifts  of  three. 
And  when  one  shift  has  gone 

(All  gardeners  want  their  tea) 
Another  shift  comes  on. 

Three  gardeners  to  a  shift, 
Four  shifts  of  gardeners  three, 

To  make  my  beds  uplift 
And  burgeon  joyously. 

One  shift  to  ripe  the  seed ; 

And  one  to  tend  the  flowers 
And  give -them  steadfast  heed 

Throughout  the  golden  hours  ; 

One  shift  to  drop  them  down, 

Tender  and  reverent, 
Upon  Earth's  kindly  brown, 

When  all  the  gold  is  spent ; 

And  one  to  watch  and  wait 
And  blow  upon  its  thumbs, 

Till  through  the  garden  gate 
Again  the  first  shift  comes. 

I  know  twelve  gardeners  good 
That  watch  and  serve  and  sow 

Of  their  solicitude 

For  all  the  flowers  that  blow. 


From  a  leader  in  The  Daily 
Telegraph  on  the  Mexican  crisis : — 

' '  The  day  has  gone  by  when  the  two  great 
English-speaking  peoples  can  afford  to  fall  out 
over  the  affairs  of  a  South  American  State." 

The  office-boy  will  have  to  be  replaced 
if  he  continues  to  show  such  ignorance 
of  geography. 

Another  Impending  Apology. 

"Thanks  to  the  bookbinders'  strike,  which 
is  holding  back  various  books,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Egerton  Castle's  new  story, '  The  Golden  Bar- 
rier,' will  not  appear  until  January." 

Daily  Chronicle. 

With  regard  to  the  book  here  named, 
we  cannot  share  our  contemporary's 
gratitude;  and  think  that  anyhow  it 
was  expressed  too  bluntly. 


38  i 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [NOVKMBKK  5,  1913. 


SHOCKING    EXAMPLES. 

["The  presentment  of  a  case  by  means  of 
'  (hooking  examples  ' — Mr.  Lloyd  Ooorge's 
most  trusty  weapons— is  clearly  in  the  highest 

fallacious." — The  Times, 
NOTE. — In     the    slux'kiiisj    example-;    th.n 
f  >ll.iw,  the  iinthor  does  not  claim  to  present 
nit  any  particular  <-lass ;    nor  are 
\umpUs  of  the  iniquity  of  any  particu- 
lar \vstoin  ;  lust  that  doosu't  make  them  am 
le-s  .-.hocking.] 

THE  REFORMED  LANDLORD. 
THERE  \vas  once  a  landlord  (I  sup- 
piv-;s  his  name  and  locality)  \vlio  O\VNCI 
a  suburban  property  and  hud  grown  rich 
on  improvements  made  by  bis  tenants, 
lint,  being  shown  the  error  of  his  ways, 
he  determined  to  be  a  hotter  man.  And 
on  the  expiration  of  certain  three  leases 
which  the  tenants  did  not  wisli  to  renew 
lie  let  the  properties  for  a  period  of 
fourteen  years  to  A,  B,  and  C,  with 
the  undertaking  that  at  the  end.  of  that 
term  he  would  demand  no  compensation 
for  improvements,  but, '  on  the  other 
hand,  would  himself  recoup  the  'tenants 
for  their  outlay.  .  Further,  he  nobly 
refused  to  put  into  the  lease?  any  Ifar- 
assing  conditions  that  might  lijnit  his 
tenants  in  the  development  cjf  their 
respactiVe  properties.  •  And  A :  turned 
his  house  into  a  fever  hospital;  and  B 
started  a  brick-kiln,  and  C  set  up  a  fish- 
manure  business.  And  after  the  lapse  of 
twelve  uionthsallthesurrqunding  yearly 
tenants  left  the  neighbourhood,  ^and  no 
one  would  take  their  houses,  find  the 
landlord  was  reduced  to  great  straits. 
And  at  the  end  of  fourteen  years  A,  B, 
and  C  demanded  compensation  for  im- 
provements and  also  for  the  goodwill  of 
their  respective  establishments:.  And 

the  landlord  is  now  in  the  workhouse. 

i 

THE  MAN  WHO  BIT  THE  HAND  THAT 

FED  HIM. 

There- was  once  a  poacher  (you  are 
not  to  ask  me  his  name)  who  died.  And 
the  duke  whose  game  lie  had  poached 
(be  also  shall  be  anonymous)  tobk  pity 
on  the  orphan  child  of  the  deceased,  and 
had  him  educated  at  a  distance,  so  that 
bis  father's  record  should  be  no  re- 
proach to  him.  And  the  boy  imbibed 
knowledge  so  well  that  he  grew  up  to 
be  a  Socialist.  And  returning  to  the 
scene  of  his  birth  he  preached  the  doc- 
trine of  the  wickedness  of  landlords  at 
the  very  gates  of  his  benefactor.  And 
having  thus  convinced  the  neighbouring 
tenants  that  all  landlords,  and  notably 
dukes,  were  the  seed  of  the  devil,  he  in- 
duced them  to  migrate.  And  by  an  active 
boycott  and  the  employment  of  other 
forms  of  peaceful  persuasion,  ho  made 
the  vacant  tenancies  very  undesirable. 
And  the  land  passed  out  of  cultivation  ; 
and  the  (hike,  being  in  great  difficulties, 
liad  to  dispose  of  his  property  by  a 


forced  sale.  And  it  was  bought  by  a 
gentleman  from  the  Stock  Exchange, 
who  turned  it  into  a  golf  course. 
And  the  duke  is  now  engaged  in  tho 
logging  trade  in  Saskatchewan.  But 
in  recognition  of  his  good  work  the 
poacher's  son  lias  received  an  appoint- 
ment as  an  itinerant  lecturer  en  the 
evils  of  the  feudal  system. 

THE  RAILWAV  THAT  WENT  CHEAP. 

There  was  once  a  Chairman  of  a 
Railway  (which  I  will  not  specify), 
and  lie  contrived  by  very  careful 
management  just  to  make  ends  meat 
and  give  a  modest  return  to  the  share- 
holders. And  there  were  strikes,  and 
the  wages  of  the  company's  employees 
had  to  b 3  raised  to  prevent  further  in- 
convenience to  tho  great  travelling 
public.  And  the  rates  on  the  company's 
laud  went  up,  and  the  public  demanded 
better  and  better  accommodation  and 
faster  and  faster  trains  and  more  and 
more  of •  them,  and  he  said:  ."I'm 
afraid  we  must  charge  our  passengers 
a  slightly  higher  price  or  we  shall  be 
insolvent."  And  the  Government  said  : 
"No,  you  mustn't;  on  the  other  hand  you 
must  reduce  your  charge  for  farmers' 
merchandise."  And  the  Government 
also  said:  "We  insist  on  better  arrange- 
ments for  the  safety  of  your  employees." 
And  all  this  cost  a  great  deal,  and  the 
price  of  the  shares  went  down  and  down. 
And  then  the  Government  said:  "  We 
will  nationalize  your  railway."  And 
at  this  threat  the  shares  went  further 
down  and  further  down ;  and  when  they 
had  got  as  low  as  they  could  the  Govern- 
ment bought  the  railway.  .  And  it  was 
considered  a  very  clever  deal.  And  the 
Government  had  many  new  posts  to 
offer,  and  they  awarded  several  situa- 
tions as  porters  and  brakesmen  to  the 
old  shareholders. 

THE  DOCTOR'S  GOODWILL. 
There  was  once  a  doctor  (who  shall 
be  nameless),  and  he  sold  his-  practice 
to  a  young  man  from  the  country,  to 
whom  he  represented  its  value  as  £400 
per  annum.  But  he  did  not  mention 
that  the  chief  source  of  his  income  was 
the  case  of  a  patient,  an  old  lady 
alleged  to  be  incurable,  whom  for  years 
lie  had  been  in  the  habit  of  attending 
daily  at  a  fee  of  one  guinea.  And  the 
new  doctor  was  very  honest,  and  by  the 
md  of  three  months  he  had  completely 
ured  the  patient,  and  in  consequence 
was  himself  a  ruined  man. 

THE  CONVERTED  EMBEZZLER. 
There  was  once  a  Nonconformist 
Minister  (he  shall  remain  incognito) 
.vhose  stipend  was  derived  in  large 
neasure  from  the  pew-rents.  And  he 
ind  a  man-of-all-work  who  cleaned 
lis  knives  and  boots  and  looked  after 


his  biilb^;.  And  one  day  this  man 
embez/lcd  two  spoons  and  a  fork,  tho 
property  of  his  master.  And  this 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Non- 
conformist Minister,  who  spoke  to  him 
as  man  to  man  upon  tho  vice  of  petty 
larceny,  and  then,  having  a  very  kind 
heart,  forgave  him.  And  this  treat- 
ment had  so  softening  an  effect  upon 
the  character  of  the  man-of-all-work 
that  lie  adopted  a  religious  life  and 
began  to  preach  in  tho  open  air.  And 
his  favourite  spot  for  preaching  wa,  on 
a  common  adjacent  to  his  master's 
tabernacle.  And  so  popular  and  per- 
suasive was  his  manner  of  preaching 
that  he  quickly  drew  away  tho  regular 
congregation  whose  pew-rents  supported 
the  pastor.  And  when  I  last  heard  of 
the  reverend  gentleman  he  was  in  sore 
plight,  and  talked  of  entering  Parlia- 
ment for  the  sake  of  the  salary. 

O.  S. 

WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME? 

I  SAID  to  myself  in  a  confident  tone : — 

"  The  lady  I  marry  (and  keep) 
Must  not  be  distinguished  by  beauty 
alone, 

For  beauty  is  only  skin  deep. 
I  know  I  should  tire  of  a  doll  in  a  day: 

For  something  more  lasting  I  '11  look." 
And  then  in  my  usual  provident  way 

I  married  Amelia  Cook. 

Deceived  by  her  name,  I  imagined  the 

girl 

My  passion  would  duly  requite 
By  making  my  days   one   continuous 

whirl 

Of  epicurean  delight. 
By  way  of  a  dowry  I  begged  her  to  bring 

A  copy  of  Beeton,  her  book. 
Oh !  I  thought  I  was  doing  a  sensible 

thing 
In  wedding  Amelia  Cook. 

Alas  for  those  glorious  visions  of  mine 

I  find  that  the  lady  can  show 
No  shadow  of  skill  in  the  cookery  line, 

No  deftness  in  dealing  with  dough. 
My  high  expectations  are  knocked  on 
the  head ; 

Dyspepsia  's  come  to  supplant 
The   hopes   that  I  cherished  the  day 
that  I  wed 

Amelia  Cook;  for  she  can't. 


From  an  interview  in  The  Duily 
Dispatch : — 

"This  subtle  proposal  of  orchestral  con- 
certs for  tho  poor  is  but  tli3  thin,  edge  of 
tho  wedge  to  gradually  freeze  out  tho  IHW 
irganisation  with  the  assistance  of  the  rate- 
piyers'  money." 

We  should  have  described  it  as  the 
thin  end  of  a  red  herring  drawn  across 
the  path. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CJIAKI VAHI.— NOVKMBKR  5,   1913. 


IN    THE    MULTITUDE    OF    COUNSELLORS- 

JOHN  BULL.  "AH!      NOW   I    OUGHT    TO    KNOW    WHERE    I    AM." 


NOVKMKKU  5,  1913.]  PUNCH,   oil   T1IH   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


383 


•    —v    V       * 

•"  -'•-.  -' 


: 


"I  SAY,  MADDICK,  TOO  AND  JENKINS  HAVE  COT  A  FAIR  WALK-OVER  is  THE  FOURSOMES  THIS  AFTERNOON." 

"MY   DEAR  FELLOW,   IT  *S   A  THOUSAND  TO  ONE  AOAINST  US.      WHEN   I  PUT  HIM  ON  THE   QREE5J   HE   PUTTS  ME   OFF  AGAIN." 


THE  NEW   WAY  WITH 
LANDLORDS. 

(By  a  Labouring  Man.) 

MY  landlord  had  sent  me  a  neat  little 
document,  "  To  quarter's  rent  due 
September  29th— £12  10s.  Od."  He  is 
a  trifle  too  punctual  in  these  little  atten- 
tions. Now  were  I  landlord  I  should 
occasionally  show  sympathy  with  my 
tenants  by  forgetting  a  quarter-day.  I 
know  that  I  could  easily  forget  quarter- 
days.  I  give  you  my  solemn  word  of 
honour  that  were  it  not  for  these  little 
reminders  I  should  not  know  a  quarter- 
day  from  an  ordinary  day. 

Generally  I  send  the  man  a  cheque, 
and  at  the  same  time  put  up  a  petition 
that  the  bank-manager  may  be  in  a 
kindly  frame  of  mind  when  it  is  paid  in. 
This  time  (after  Bedford  and  Swindon)  I 
merely  sent  him  a  note  asking  him  to  call. 

He  came  in-with  the  genial  smile  of 
one  who  is  (or  imagines  ha  is)  about  to 
draw  money  and  shook  hands  quite 
affably.  Then  ho  produced  a  fountain- 
pen  and  began  to  scribble  a  receipt. 

"  Wait  one  moment,"  I  said.  "  I 
think  you  will  admit  that  England's 
chief  glory  is  her  literature." 

"Yes,  yes,"  l»e  replied,  prematurely 
producing  a  stamp, 

"  At  present,"  I  continued,  "literature 
is  in  a  depressed  condition.  Foreign 


competition  is  telling.  Inferior  pro- 
ducts from  the  Isle  of  Man  have 
glutted  the  market.  Besides,  the 
weather  this  summer  has  been  un- 
favourable to  literary  production.  It  is 
impossible  to  work  on  fine  golfing  days. 
Now  you  will  admit  that  the  foundation 
of  literature  is  the  dwelling-house  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  and  courageously 
licked  his  stamp. 

"  It  stands  to  reason.  The  house  is 
a  prime  necessity.  One  must  have  a 
house  as  a  place  for  the  return  of  manu- 
scripts. You  couldn't  expect  the 
postman  to  deliver  them  to  a  field  or  a 
golf-links,  could  you?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  dubiously. 

"  I  am  glad  you  follow  me.  You  will 
perhaps  further  agree  with  me  that  any 
financial  shortage  caused  by  literary 
depression  must  be  transferred  to  you. 
I  propose  to  deduct  for  that  at  the 
rate  of  £25  per  annum,  or  £6  5s.  Od. 
for  the  quarter.  Now  comes  the  im- 
portant question  of  the  living  wage." 

He  stared  blankly  at  me. 

"  At  all  events  the  depandants  on 
literature  are  entitled  to  a  living  wage. 
Without  the  services  of  my  cook  I 
should  starve.  The  production  of  litera- 
ture would  cease.  She  demands  an 
advance  of  10s.  a  month,  and  the  house- 
maid requires  a  sympathetic  advance. 
That  means,  between  the  two  of  them, 


£3  for  the  quarter.  This,  of  course, 
must  also  be  passed  on  to  you." 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked  feebly. 

"  Because  you  are  the  landlord.  But 
I  am  forgetting  the  great  question  of 
the  housing  of  the  literary  classes.  Am 
I  to  work  in  a  chilled,  cold,  miserable 
condition?  Is  my  intelligence  to  be 
numbed  by  unfavourable  conditions?" 
The  landlord  looked  at  me  as  if  it  was 
his  intelligence  that  was  being  numbed. 
"  Therefore,"  I  concluded  emphatically, 
"  I  deduct  £3  10s.  Od.,  the  cost  of  the 
new  gas-stove  for  my  writing-room. 
Now  if  you  will  kindly  hand  me  that 
receipt  you  have  so  thoughtfully  pre- 
pared and  the  small  sum  of  five  shillings 
we  shall  be  square." 

And  then,  I  deplore  to  relate,  the 
landlord,  who  is  a  Vice-President  of  a 
Liberal  Association,  used  disgusting 
language  about  putting  the  bailiffs  in. 

"  Evict  me  ?  "  I  cried.  Evict  me  be- 
cause I  am  a  follower  of  LLOYD  GEOBOE? 
The  Commissioners  will  never  tolerate  an 
eviction  for  political  reasons.  This,  Sir, 
is  free  England."  And  I  showed  him  out. 


"  Is  Pike's  Peak  sinking?  The  latest  Gov- 
ernment survey,  just  announced,  says  the 
altitude  of  that  famous  peak  is  only  14,109,079 
feet  above  sea  level." — Toronto  Mail. 

However,  it  is  still  higher  than  Consti- 
tution Hill. 


384 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  5.  1913. 


THE   CURE. 


The  usual  buzzing,  and  now  and  then  [ 
a  voice  or  two,  detached  as  the  cries  of  | 


Tin:  fame  of  any  discovery  that  can  j  migrating  birds    at  night,  and  then  i 
H>  move  depression  of  spirits  is  surely   heard  the  tailor  approach  and  pickup 
worth    spreading.      Nothing   but    that   the  receiver. 
Miff  led  to  the  composition  of  this,      "Who  arc  you?" 
article,  fur  1  am  under  no  illusion  as  to       I  told  him  I  was  Murray  and  Co. 
the   interest   of   my   personality.     My       "Mr.    Stokes,"   he  said,  "has  dealt 
personality  is  dulness  in  essence,  but  I   with  us  for  fifteen  years  at  least.     He 
did  make  a  discovery.  i  is  absolutely  safe.     You  need  have  no 

My  name  is  Arthur  Murcott  Stokes' misgivings." 

I  am"  thirty-seven,  I  am  an  architect  in  j  "Thank  you,"  I  said,  and  returned 
a  modest  way,  and  I  live  with  my  family  ;  to  my  chair  vastly  improved  in  health. 
in  a  bouse"  built  by  another  on  the ;  I  was  a  gentleman  to  my  tailor,  which 
Parling  Estate  at  Eaynes  Park, 
ofiice  is  in  London.  I  pay  my  way 


My   is  the  next  best  thing  to  being  a  hero 
to  one's   valet.      I   was   conscious   of 


___________  __ 

The  other  afternoon  "i  was"  at  home  something  gently  relaxing  like  a  smile 


with  that  detestable  affliction,  the  first  j  passing  over  my  face. 
cold  of  the  season — a  slight  cold  only  |  it  was  so  unusual. 
in  itself  but  the  cause  - 
of  dark  forebodings  for 
the  dreary  months  to 
come.  My  family  were 
out  and  I  sat  and 
shivered-  in  my  study 
and  saw  nothing  but 
calamity  ahead.  In 
addition  to  the  cold,  I 
had  just  failed  to  get 
a  commission,  a  specu- 
lation had  gone  wrong, 
the  library  had  sent  me 
a  novel  with  forty- 
eight  of  the  most  im- 
portant pages  omitted 
by  a  fool  of  a  binder, 
and  I  had  lost  my 
temper  at  lunch  without 
sufficient  reason.  I  was 
now  sorry  for  it.  J 
need  hardly  say  that 
my  mood  was  black 


It  almost  hurt, 


and  hopeless. 
After     indulging 


it 


"  Thank  you,'4 1  said,  and  meant  it. 
I  returned  to  my  chair  and  simmered 
in  rectitude. 

This  is  fine,  I  thought,  and  not  only 
fine  but  tonic  too.  I  must  have  some 
more  of  this.  PINEHO  was  right  when 
he  prescribed  "  Praise,  praise,  praise !  " 

I  then  ventured  upon  a  real  risk.  I 
rang  up  a  rather  testy  client  of  my  own, 
for  whom  I  had  recently  completed  a 
house,  not  without  tears. 

"  Is  that  Mr.  Forrester?  "  I  asked. 
"  Ye3,  it  is,"  was  the  rather  grumpy 
answer. 

"Excuse  my  troubling  you,"  I  said, 
"  but  I  am  Mr.  Cole,  and  I  have  been 
advised  to  go  to  an  architect  named 
Stokes  for  a  house.  I  understand  that 
lie  has  just  built  one  for  you.  Can  you 
recommend  him?  " 

There  was  a  terrible 
silence  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr. 
Forrester,"!  can.  Of 
course  no  architect  does 
exactly  what  you  want, 
but  I  should  call  him 
good  and  thoroughly 
reasonable,  and  also  a 
very  pleasant  man  to 
deal  with." 

I  returned  to  my 
chair  a  sunny  optimist, 
and,  when  my  wife  and 
children  came  home,  I 
at  onceproposed  a  game 
of  "  Demon  Patience," 
which  never  fails  to 
amuse  and  excite  us. 


while     I     suddenly  i 


A   GLIMPSE   OF  THE   UNDER-WORLD. 
Maid  (in  hoarse  whisper).  "  Excess  ME,  MUM  :   COOK  BES  SHE  's  VEBY  SOKBY 

BUT  SHE  'B   TBOD  ON  THE  PUDDING." 


realised  that  at  any  cost  I  must  pull  |  But  suppose  that  was  the  only  good 
myself  together  or  it  would  get  the  i  character  I  could  collect,  I  thought 
upper  hand  ;  but  the  question  was,  I  suddenly,  and  hastened  to  test  this 
how  to  do  it?  I  was  so  far  gone  in  j  dread  by  ringing  up  another  firm. 
pessimism  that  only  from  without  could  j  This  time  I  chose  the  solicitors  who 
any  succour  come  ;  and  how  to  get  that  ?  i  had  done  little  things  for  me. 

In  a  flash  an  idea  entered  my  mind  i      "  Messrs.  Spalding  speaking,"  I  said. 
and  I  acted  without  a  moment's  hesi-  ,  "  Can   you  put  me  on  to  one  of  the 
tation.     If  only  I  could  collect  some  :  partners  ?  " 
disinterested  and  favourable  opinions  1     I  was  put  on. 

of  myself  from  the  world  at  large  they  "  I  am  Messrs.  Spalding,"  I  said,  "  and 
would  flatter  me  back  to  serenity  and  j  I  understand  from  Mr.  Arthur  Murcott 
nope;  that  was  the  notion,  and  I  reached  Stokes  that  you  know  him  well  in 
for  the  telephone  book  and  looked  up  a  ;  business.  Can  you  tell  me  anything 
ilor  with  whom  I  have  dealt  for  some  about  him  ?  " 

I  asked  to  be  put  on  to  him.)     "Who  are  you?"  asked  the  cautious 


In  course  of  time  I  got  his  number. 

Hullo,"  his  clerk  said. 
"  Hullo,"  ~ 


lawyer. 


We  have  a  number  of  flats  in  the 


••. 

replied.     "  I  am  Murray  j  West  End,"  I  said,  with  extraordinary 
'      '  '  .?.-*... 


and  Co.,  solicitors.  We  want  to  know 
anything  you  can  tell  us  about  a  cus- 
tomer of  yours  who  has  given  you  as  a 
reference,  Mr.  Arthur  Murcott  Stokes. 
.;  "  Hold  the  line."  said  t-.hn  nWL- 


quickness,  "and  Mr.  Stokes  wants  to 
rent  one." 

"Oh,"  said  the  lawyer.     "That  will 


the  best  dramas 


Theatrical  Candour. 
From    an    Indian 
poster : — 

"Shakespeare's    one    of 
King  John '    will   be    per- 


formed by  this  company  to-night  for  the  last 
time,  at  the  repeated  request  of  the  public." 


"  Two  tenders  were  received,  the  Clerk  now 

reported,  and  that  of  Mr. — ,  of  Axminster, 

whs  offered  to  supply  and  fix  the  required 
number  of  hammocks  at  £19  2s.  6d.  each,  was 
accepted. — Dr.  Wood  was  rather  curious  as  to 
whether  the  hammocks  were  cheaper  than 
new  beds." — Pulman's  Weekly  News. 

In  our  opinion  Dr.  WOOD'S  curiosity 
was  justified. 


"  The  programme,  which  will  last  an  hour, 
includes  studies  of  fish  life,  the  Manchester 
Ship  Canal,  the  making  of  silk  hats,  the  fly? 
pest,  Turkestan  and  its  inhabitants,  the 
cocoa  industry,  the  ant  and  the  grosshopper 
(humorous),  a  day  in  the  Paris  Zoo,  and 
scenes  in  Trichinopoly." 

It  is  annoying,  -when  one  Is  just  pre- 
paring to  be  hun^orous  about  the 
misprint  of  "  grosshopper  "  for  "  grass- 


TT   jj  ,,       ,.  uuun.cs.       uu  an  ritmt.        XOU  need  no," 

thelme,  '  said  the  clerk.  j  A  most  exemplary  person." 


be  all  right.     You  need  have  no  fears. !  hopper,"  to  learn  that  the  printer  is 


I  being  funny  on  purpose. 


NOVEMBER  5.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


385 


Caretaker  (showing  tourist  round  old  castle).  " S-S-S-H— GO  QUIETLY,  SIB;   THIS  is  THE  "AUNTED  CHAMBEB  OP  '  BLOODY  KUPUS'- 

I  GOT  AN  OLD    'EN  INSIDE   A-SETTIN'    ON   SIXTEEN  EGOS,   AN*    I   DON'T   WANT   'KB   DISTURBED. " 


SALVE   ATQUE  VALE. 

(To  an  unknotvn  plantigrade;  a  threnody  inspired  by  the 
necessity  o/  parting  at  last  with  a  long -cherished 
shaving-brush,  and  also  by  the  panegyric  upon  the 
noblest  o/  our  British  fauna  published  a  few  weeks 
ago  in  the  pages  of  "  Mr.  Punch.") 

SHALL  I  pour  water  on  it  from  the  geyser, 
Badger,  on  this  that  was  a  part  of  thee  ? 
Or  strew  soft  shaving-papers  silently, 

Or  scatter  old  blades  from  my  safety  razor 
Such  as  some  Western  pirate  loves  to  fix 
Up  in  green  envelopes  at  two-and-six  ? 

Or  wouldst  thou  rather,  as  in  life  before, 
Beechmast  and  eggs  or  what  of  other  meat 
(Ere  commerce  cleft  thy  hide  and  made  it  sweet) 

Fed  thee  in  that  dark  cavern  thou  didst  bore, 
Scooped  by  those  inturned  feet  ? 

For  sometimes  thee  the  vegetable  courses 
Allured,  that  blossom  in  our  underwoods, 
And  sometimes  thou  wouldst  pluck  from  shelly  hoods 

The  snail  (this  fact  my  gardener  endorses), 

And  sometimes  eat  young  birds.     Ah,  who  can  tell 
Thy  loves,  thy  dim  carousals,  guarded  well  ? 

Not  I,  for  one.     But  this  much  I  have  built  on, 
That  always  in  those  huntings  thou  wouldst  wear 
A  most  prodigious  mat  of  piebald  hair, 

Also  an  odour  like  a  too-ripe  Stilton, 
Eacy  and  rich  and  rare. 

Ah  yes,  in  thine  old  rooting  season,  badger, 
Dinners  thou  hadst  no  human  eye  could  scan, 
Part  murderous  and  part  fruitarian, 

And  times  when  hunger  made  of  thee  a  cadger 


.  t     For  alien  cast-off  food.    Thou  wast  not  nice, 

But  Death  absolved  these  things  and,  strewing  spice, 
Made  toilet  apparatus  of  thy  mop. 
,-.  »  J  And  now  less  high,  and  now  with  no  demur, 

Far  other  now  than  when  the  yelping  cur 
Bayed  thee,  I  purchased  at  a  chemist's  shop 
This  tuft  of  votive  fur. 

And  stout  has  been  its  service.     Oft  and  often 
For  toil  half  over  (ere  the  steel  cut  in), 
For  fangless  bristles  that  embraced  my  chin 

With  amorous  claspings  and  with  suds  that  soften 
And  make  the  beard  more  kindly,  I  have  poured 
Libation  to  thy  soul,  thou  beast  adored, 

Who  moist'nest  hard  lips  with  the  hair  that  tames  ! 
There  sprout  no  hairs  like  those  the  badger  keeps 
To  curb  men's  stubble  when  the  daylight  peeps, 

Lest  their  saluted  consorts  whimper,  "  James !  " 
Whilst  the  wet  tea-urn  weeps. 

And  now  the  thing  moults.     I  must  buy  another. 
Yet  for  the  sake  of  many  a  happy  morn 
I  praise  the  dumb  friend  out  of  whom  'twas  torn ; 

And  none  of  what  wild  kisses  went  to  smother 
The  unprofitable  harvest  of  the  night 
Shall  fade  from  my  remembrance.     Gentle  sprite. 

More  fair  than  skunk  or  chipmunk  or  opossum, 
See  where  upon  the  bonfire's  heart  I  hurl, 
Not  garlandless,  thy  gift,  but  paste  of  pearl 

Mingle,  and  souse  with  odorous  lather-blossom 

For  the  last  time  thy  curl.  EVOE. 

"  Here  is  admirable  humour  for  we  Southerners  to  read,  but  what 
will  they  say  in  the  Highlands?" — C.  K.  S.  in  "  The  Sphere." 

"  Us,"  we  hope. 


3SG 


ITNVir,    Oil   Till-:   LONDON'   rilARIVAKI.  JNOVKM..KB  r,, 


THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  JOHN  UPJOHN. 

Tin-:  LATKST  LiTi-.iiAHY  SKXSATIOX. 
John  Upjohn  is  not  a  Frenchman. 
Tcr  tho  despair  of  MAIUI:  CLAIKK, 
ANTONIX  i)i>sin(Hi:  and  others  as  yet 
undiscovered  he  is  a  mere  Englishman. 
1  will  admit  that  it  took  me  a  dickens 
of  a  time  to  find  him.  The  hlue  eyes 
were  the  difficulty — that  and  the  shy- 
ness. I  found  plenty  of  them  in  humble 
:<>ns  who  could  write;  in  fact  the 
difficulty  would  have  been  to  find  any- 
one who  could  write  occupying  anything 
but  a  humble  position.  But  they  would 
haV8  looked  all  wrong  in  the  photo- 
graphs arid  would  almost  certainly  have 
come  to  London,  smoked  cigarettes  and 
visited  picture  palaces,  if  I  had  made 
them  famous,  instead  of  remaining 
meekly  at  the  forge  or  the  plough  or 
tho  wood-chopper. 

I  found  John  in  Blankshire.  It  is 
necessary  thus  to  disguise  the  name 
of  tho  .county  that  John  may  not  be 
bothered  by  reporters.  I  am  deter- 
mined that  he  shall  not  be  lionized, 
for  when  spoken  to  he  always  runs. 
When  I  brought  him  up  to  see  his 
publisher  (also  mine)  to  discuss  terms, 
we  had  to  lock  the  door  of  the  room  to 
keep  him  with  us.  Even  then  he  spent 
the  whole  time  butting  at  the  panels. 
That  night,  so  pleased  was  he  to  be 
back  in  Blankshire,  he  slept  with  the 
plough  in  his  arms. 

Yes,  John  Upjohn  works  on  a  farm. 
A  farm  —  hayricks,  rabbits,  poultry, 
midges,  wasps,  nightingales,  sheep, 
cows,  cider  and  all  that.  It  is  an 
amazing  thing.  No  wonder  they  sneer 
at  me  at  my  club  when  I  tell  them.  I 
often  tell  them.  Those  whom  I  have 
taken  the  most  pains  with  are  the  most 
obstinate.  One  friend  of  mine  not  only 
refuses  to  believe  in  John  Upjohn  but 
refuses  to  believe  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  a  farm.  This  is  absurd.  There  are 
farms.  Just  as  there  are  suns  and 
moons  and  stars.  But  I  am  afraid  I 
am  falling  into  John  Upjohn's  style. 

Let  me  tell  you  something  of  his  life. 
He  rises  at  three,  washes  the  sheep  at 
four,  bathes  the  hens  at  five,  hard-boils 
the  eggs  at  six,  breakfasts  on  hay  and 
oil-cake  at  seven,  brews  cider  at  eight, 
grows  hops  at  nine,  sings  ragtime  to 
the  bees  at  ten,  shoots  starlings  off  the 
fruit-trees  at  eleven,  digs  potatoes  at 
twelve.  His  afternoons  are  much  the 
same,  save  that  the  horses,  pigs  and 
cows  are  washed  instead  of  the  sheep. 
But  you  know  the  routine.  When 
nothing  else  occurs  to  him,  he  ploughs 
-and  then  does  some  more  ploughing. 
What  first  prompted  him  to  write 
would  be  difficult  to  explain.  Perhaps 
t  was  because  his  master,  the  farmer, 
owned  books.  The  one  under  the  short 


leg  of  the  kitchen  table  was  called 
Select  Female  Bioijnipliicx,  and  the  one 
they  tore  papers  out  of  for  spills  was 
A  Guide  to  Conchology.  Seeing  these 
about  must  have  fired  his  ambition. 

At  first  he  contented  himself  with 
mere  mural  monographs.  The  earliest 
of  these  is  in  the  hop  oast  and  has 
been  glazed  over  and  photographed.  It 
reads  "  Pie  .Powder  and  Proper  Pride, 
Scissorwitch  and  Cambridgeshire."  It 
shows  a  taste  for  alliteration  but  has  no 
other  literary  value.  Genius  had  hardly 
rumbled  then. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-five  we  find  him 
writing  in  a  memorandum-book.  On 
the  one  side  lie  would  enter  his  wages, 
which  were  two  shillings  per  week. 
On  the  other  he  would  record  the 
expenditure.  Thus : — 

£   s.    d.  £   ».    il. 

Erncd  . .  ..020  Lorst  . .  013  G 
Cairv  forward  0  1'2  G 


Totcl      . .     0  13    G 

There  is  a  mistake  here,  as  you  will 
discover  by  adding  the  items  in  the 
first  columns.  Six  and  nothing  are  six. 
Ho  has  tho  pence  right.  But  twelve 
and  two  are  fourteen.  He  has  thirteen. 
Thirteen  from  fourteen  is  one.  So  that 
he  is  one  out.  W7e  who  are  educated 
may  sneer,  but  you  must  remember  that 
I  his  simple  fellow  was  never  at  Eton  or 
St.  John's,  Leather-head,  and  to  get  only 
one  out  when  your  education  has  been 
confined  to  five  or  six  years  at  a  parish 
school  is  no  mean  achievement. 

Later  in  life  we  find  something  more 
than  a  mere  record  of  financial  opera- 
tions in  this  well-thumbed  book.  Some 
of  the  entries  are  almost  diaristic.  For 
example: — 

"  Went  for  boss  with  hedge  hook  and 
got  larnd." 

At  first  sight  it  would  seem  that 
John,  annoyed  with  his  employer,  had 
attacked  him  with  a  hedgehog.  But  it 
does  not  do  to  entirely  mistrust  (John 
would  say  mistrust  entirely)  the  young 
genius's  spelling.  'Enquiries  extending 
over  several  weeks  revealed  the  fact 
that  in  John's  neighbourhood  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  hedge  hook.  It  is  a 
long  weapon  used  for  trimming  hedges, 
and  John,  in  his  naif  way,  had  no 
doubt  planned  to  behead  his  employer 
with  it. 

It  was  not  till  he  reached  the  age  of 
thirty  that  lie  attempted  a  connected 
narrative.  This  took  the  shape  of  a 
letter  to  a  village  tailor  : — 

DEAR  Sin, — When  will  my  cloathes 
be  reddy  ?  I  reckon  our  side  ought  to 
win  Saturday. 

Yours  truly,     JOHN  UPJOHN. 

You  note  the  reticence,  the  domes- 
ticity, the  simple  touch  of  the  thing. 


Well,  the  book  is  all  like  that.  Just 
simple.  When  you  have  read  it  you 
will  feel  like  eating  grass  and  n:co  ng 
like  "  a  grave,  kind  cow."  You  will 
feel  uplifted,  stop  the  cat's  fish,  cut 
down  the  housekeeping  and  go  and  seo 
Diplomacy. 

Anyway  you  can't  help  being  better. 
The  price  will  be  only  three  shillings 
and  sixpence  (including  my  preface  and 
a  full-length  photograph  of  mo  and 
John),  and  the  publishers  are,  of  course, 
Messrs.  Bilge  and  Bluff. 


THE    FAME     OF    CHARLOTTE. 

WHO  Charlotte  was  we  may  not  know. 

We  meet  her  in  the  pleasant  ways 
Of  an  old  book  of  long  ago, 

A  memoir  of  the  Georgian  days, 

Of  courts  and  coaches,  routs  and 

plays ; 
And,  postscript  to  a  lady's  letter, 

We  find  the  simple,  touching  plinise, 
"Poor  Charlotte's  chilblains  are  no 
better." 

It  sweetly  comes  across  the  years 
Like  some  old  simple  song  and 

quaint 

Borne  softly  to  our  jangled  ears 
Fragrant  and  fresh,  and  ah,  how 

faint. 

Yet  all  who  lack  tho  modern  tain  j 
Of  hard  and  callous  thought,  will 

quicken 

In  sympathy  with  that  complain1; 
By  which  poor  Charlotte's  feet  w< TO 
stricken. 

A  shadow  of  a  gentle  name, 

She  passes,  never  to  return  ; 
Her  maiden  age,  her  slender  fame, 

We  find  not,  howsoe'er  we  yearn. 

Only  she  had — 'tis  all  we  learn — 
Two  loyal  friends  (of  good  position) 

Who  showed  a  mutual  concern 
About  their  Charlotte's  sad  condition. 

No  doubt  she  mildly  lived  and  died, 

A  grey-toned  lady,  fair  and  sweet, 
Much  honoured  by  the  countryside, 

Precise  in  all  her  ways  and  neat ; 

She  shunned  the  cold,  and  loved  the 

heat; 
And,  by  the  customs  of  Society, 

Held  all  light  comments  on  her  feet 
An  act  of  grossest  impropriety. 

0  irony  of  vain  repute  ! 

O  bitter  fame  that  makes  a  slave 
Of  him  who  starts  the  long  pursuit, 
Nor  wins  the  goal  for  which  men 

crave. 

Full  many  a  gallant  heart  and  brave 
Has  missed  the  crown  for  which  he 

lusted ; 

While  Charlotte  in  her  gentle  grave 
Learns  her.  renown,  and  turns  disr 
gusted.  DUM-DUM. 


NOVEMBER  5.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    TUP]    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 387 

SPORT    FOR    THE    PEOPLE. 

fAs  a  sot-oft  to  Mr.  T.r.ovi)  f!i:  >r.  m't  r,;iinl  Campaign  it  is  proposal  to  propitiate  the  masses  by  encouraging  them  to  participate  :n 
tlic  sports  of  the  classes. j 


HAPPY  SATURDAY  AFTERNOOXS  WITH  rox-nousns  is  AK  UMAX 


Bl-MOSTHLY  JOY-DAYS   AMOXO   THE   PHEASANTS. 


388 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  5,  1913. 


-AT.  SM 


Old  Sportsman  (escaping  out  of  danger  zone).  "  WHEN  I  BUBSCUIBED  TO  IHB  OLYMPIC  GAMES  TALENT  FUND  I  EXPECTED  OTHKU 

PEOPLE  TO  DO  THIS  SOBT  OF  THING  FOR  ME."  - 


HOW   GENIUS   WORKS. 

THE  great  vespertinal  publicist,  Mr. 
FILSON  YOUNG,  has  been  combating  the 
notion  that  the  excellence  of  literary 
work  varies  in  a  direct  ratio  with  the 
clearness  of  the  atmosphere.  With 
him  fine  weather  engenders  idleness, 
while  in  foul  weather  he  can  settle 
down  contentedly  to  the  assiduous  com- 
position of  his  most  illuminating  italici- 
sations.  This  momentous  revelation 
of  the  mentality  of  a  great  writer  has 
suggested  a  comparison  of  the  methods 
of  other  eminent  luminaries  of  the  lite- 
rary firmament. 

Mr.  GALSWORTHY  finds  the  creative 
impulse  most  active  in  sleet  or  heavy 
rain.  As  a  preparation  for  composition 
he  finds  nothing  so  stimulating  as  to 
be  towed  slowly  in  a  bath-chair  round 
Wormwood  Scrubbs  prison  on  a  moist 
November  afternoon. 

Mr.  ARNOLD  BENNETT,  while  claiming 
to  be  impervious  to  the  weather,  admits 
that  the  quality  of  his  work  varies  con- 
siderably with  the  conditions  and  the 
place  in  which  it  is  composed.  The 
ideal  spot  for  creative  work  he  finds  to 
be  in  the  crow's-nest  of  his  yacht,  from 


which  he  dictates  through  a  tube  to  a 
typist  located  in  the  saloon.  This 
position,  he  finds,  gives  him  a  sense  of 
detachment  and  exaltation  which  is 
indispensable  to  the  artist.  When, 
however,  the  scene  is  laid  in  the  Five 
Towns,  he  prefers  to  potter  about  his 
garden,  with  his  amanuensis  within 
earshot  but  concealed  behind  the  shrub- 
beries. 

Mr.  EGBERT  HICHENS,  unlike  Mr. 
FILSON  YOUNG,  is  never  so  fertile  in 
ideas  as  under  the  blazing  sun  of  North 
Africa.  Much,  however,  depends  on 
costume,  his  favourite  attire  being  an 
Arab  jibbah,  with  a  green  turban,  and 
sandals  of  cream-laid  crocodile  skin. 
One  of  the  great  advantages  of  writing 
in  the  desert,  he  points  out,  is  that  you 
never  require  any  blotting-paper.  For 
emotional  passages  he  finds  the  gait  of 
the  camel,  or,  better  still,  the  dromedary, 
peculiarly  stimulating. 

Mr.  ALGERNON  ASHTON,  recalling 
SWIFT'S  genial  remark  that  the  happi- 
est faces  were  to  be  seen  in  mourning 
coaches,  observes  that  the  constant 
contemplation  of  the  emblems  of  our 
mortality  is  the  best  antiseptic  to  pes- 
simism. The  germs  of  some  of  1m 


best   letters    and    his    most   hilarious 

musical  compositions    have    come  to 

him  in  churchyards.      As  he  puts  it : — 

"When  my  mood  is  propitious  to  joking, 

When  my  temper  is  blithe  and  serene, 
I  hie  me  instanter  to  Woking, 
Or  Kensal's  funereal  Green." 

Contrariwise,  the  spectacle  of  a  harle- 
quinade always  acts  upon  him  as  a 
"depressant."  Indeed,  it  was  while  wit- 
nessing a  pantomime  at  Drury  Lane  that 
he  began  the  composition  of  his  famous 
crematorio,  "The  World  in  Ashes." 


"The  tubgoat  Volunteer  tried  to  render 
assistance,  but  ran  against  the  Hero's 
propeller." — Yorkshire  Evening  Post. 

Our  own  pet  tubgoat  Algernon  would 
not  have  butted  in  so  impulsively. 

"  SIR, — fte  Mr.  Fortune's  letter  in  your 
last  week's  issue,  surely  it  is  well  known  that 
the  apparent  increase  in  the  size  of  both  the 
sun  and  moon  is  due  to  the  greater  density 
of  the  atmosphere  through  which  they  are 
seen  when  nearer  to  the  horizon.  Not  on 
account  of  their  apparent  proximity  to  '  trees, 
hay-stacks,  houses,  &c.' — I  am,  Sir,  &c., 
MATEI.CT." 

This  letter  in  The  Spectator  is  headed — 
a  little  subtly,  we  think  —  "  High 
Pheasants." 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— NOVEMBER  5,   1913. 


AS    THEY    TAKE    IT. 


SCENE — A  forest  with  deer.        Duke:  Duke  of  SUTHERLAND. 
FIRST  LORD  (referring  to  tlte  moralising  of  Jaqttes). 
"THUS  MOST  INVECTIVELY  HE  PIEBCETH  THROUGH 
THE  BODY  OP  THE   COUNTRY,   CITY,   COURT, 
iYEA,   AND   OF  THIS  OUR  LIFE,   SWEARING   THAT   WE 
ARE   MERE   USURPERS,   TYRANTS.  .  .  ." 


First  Lord :  Lord  LANSDOWNE.        Jaqufs :  Mr.  LLOVD  GEORGE. 

DtJKK-  "SHOW  ME  THE  PLACE; 

I  LOVE  TO  COPE  HIM  IN  THESE  SULLEN  FITS, 
FOR  THEN  HE'S  FULL  OF  MATTER." 

4s  Yon  LIKE  IT,  Act  II.,  Scene  1. 


NOVKMHKU 

6, 

1913.] 

PUNCH, 

OR 

THE 

LONDON 

CHARIVARI. 

391 

(who  has  come  to  grief  over  an  Irish  bmk).  "  I  THINK  I  'VE  CUT  ONE  OF  MY  KNEES." 
Young  Farmer.  "  St'RE,  WHAT  OF  uxl    IT'LL  NIVER  TAKE  A  HAPENNY  OFF  YER  PRICE." 


BY   THE    LEFT. 

As  a  rule,  I  am  not  in  any  way 
nervous,  particularly  with  people  1  have 
known  for  some  time.  And  yet,  as  1 
sat  with  Daphne  in  her  drawing-room, 
my  heart  undoubtedly  fluttered.  And 
I  wasn't  smoking. 

Daphne  was  contemplating  the  palm 
of  her  hand. 

"Cut  yourself?"  I  asked.  She 
smiled  in  rather  a  lofty  manner. 

"  I  've  had  my  hand  told,"  she  said. 

"  Reallv.     I  've  had  my  hair  cut." 

There  was  a  short  silenca.  I  started 
a  third  piece  of  something. 

"  She  was  wonderful,"  Daphne  mur- 
mured. 

This  time  my  smile  was  lofty.  "  I 
know, "I  said.  "Strong  will.  Generous. 
Artistic.  Not  without  ambition.  Per- 
haps a  little  too  soft-hearted  ...  I 
could  have  said  all  that." 

"  Yes,"  said  Daphne,  "  but  then  you 
know  me." 

"Did  she  go  into  the  future?"  I 
enquired. 

Daphne  nodded.  "  Yes.  She  made 
mo  think." 

"  A  very  remarkable  achievement.  I 
suppose  you  're  going  to  marry  ?  " 

"  Rather.     He  's  very  good-looking." 

"  Da — sh  !  "    I  exclaimed  ;    and  not 


without  good  reason.  When  a  man 
is  just  about  to  propose  to  a  girl,  it  is 
hardly  encouraging  to  learn  that  she 
will  marry  somebody  good-looking — 
that  is  to  say,  if  the  man  is  myself. 

Daphne  looked  at  me  doubtfully. 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  it  all?" 
she  asked.  I  nodded  resignedly.  "  You 
are  a  dear.  Well,  I  'm  going  to  marry 
very  soon.  He's  tall,  good-looking, 
and  has  plenty  of  money.  We  shall  be 
very  happy  at  first." 

"  And  at  second  ?  " 

"  She  didn't  say.  He 's  got  dark 
hair." 

I  sighed.  "  I  could  manage  dark 
hair,"  I  said.  "Dye's  cheap  enough. 
It's  the  tall,  good-looking  part  that's 
worrying  me.  Besides,  lie's  sure  to 
have  no  brains." 

Daphne  laughed  quietly.  "  Don't  be 
silly.  Of  course  it  isn't  you.  She 
taught  me  a  lot,"  she  added.  "  I 
believe  I  could  tell  your  hand." 

"Oh,  do!"  I  exclaimed.  I  removed 
it  from  the  cake-stand  and  held  it  out 
to  her. 

Daphne  patted  it  thoughtfully. 
"  You  "re  honest." 

"  Ha !  and  sober  and  willing?  " 

"Don't  interrupt.     Obstinate." 

I  coughed.  "Quite  so;  but  what 
about  the  future?  " 


Daphne  looked  thoughtful.  "  Oh,  of 
course,"  she  said.  "  1  want  your  left 
hand  for  that."  I  passed  it  across. 

"  Your  right  hand  is  what  you  are, 
your  left  hand  is  what  you  make  your- 
self," she  explained. 

"  But  suppose  you  "re  ambidextrous  ? 
And  besides  I  've  no  desire  to  compete 
with  Providence." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  think  you  're  boyond 
improvement — 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  objected  with  quick 
modesty. 

Daphne  stroked  my  left  hand. 
"  You  're  going  to  marry,"  she  said. 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  You  are." 

"  Never,"   I   insisted, 
going    to    marry    a     tall, 
ing  man  with  plenty  of  money,    I'm 
not." 

"  Of  course  not.     How  could  you  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  if  I  don't  marry  you,  I 
don't  marry  at  all."  1  spoke  in  quite  a 
serious  tone. 

Daphne  released  my  hand.  "  You 
are,"  she  said,  and  resumed  a  study  of 
her  right  pain).  "  Tall  and  good-look- 
ing," she  murmured  sadly. 

I  leant  forward.  "  Daphne,  dear,"  I 
asked,  "  are  you  really  keen  on  tall 
good-looking  men  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit." 


'If   you  're 
good-look- 


392 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  5,  1913. 


"Would  you  like  me  with  my  hair 
dved  ?  " 

"N-no." 

"Then,  dash  it,  why  worry  about 
what  this  woman  said?  " 

"  But  slio  's  marvellous,  Billy.  She  's 
never  wrong." 

I  sighed.  Daphne  looked  at  her  hand 
and  sighed  also.  Suddenly  I  sat  up. 

"  You  're  looking  at  your  right  hand, 
Daphne." 

"  Yes  ;  that 's  where  he  is." 

"  Hooray  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Then  he 
doesn't  count.  Your  left  hand  is  what 
you  make  yourself.  Let  me  see  your 
left." 

I  looked  at  it  carefully. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "there's  certainly 
something  there.  I  don't  think  he 's 
tall  or  good-looking.  But  such  brains, 
and,  oh  !  such  loyalty." 

1  dived  into  my  pocket. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  your  left  hand  is 
what  you  make  yourself,"  and  I  slipped 
the  ring  on  to  the  proper  finger. 

WHAT    MUSIC    MEANS. 

SPEAKING  of  "  the  musical  side  "  of  the 
production  of  his  new  opera,  Joan  of 
Arc,  to  a  representative  of  The  Daily 
Chronicle  Mr.  RAYMOND  R6zE  declared 
himself  very  satisfied  with  the  cast. 
"  My  prima  donna,  by  the  way,  is  an 
expert  horsewoman,  in  fact  she  has  often 
broken  in  horses,  so  that  she  will  be 
quite  at  home  in  the  saddle  when  she 
rides  on  to  the  stage.  Horses,  I  may 
say,  are  used  in  several  scenes  of  the 
opera." 

Mr.  RAYMOND  R6zK's  very  proper 
insistence  on  the  possession  of  athletic 
and  sporting  qualities  as  essential  to  the 
success  of  the  purely  "musical  side"  of 
hisoperahas  been  very  well  recsived  in  all 
quarters.  It  is  understood  that  a  famous 
jockey  has  approached  Mr.  RAYMOND 
R6zE  with  a  view  to  his  writing  an 
opera  on  the  subject  of  MAZEPPA,  in 
which  he  should  be  entrusted  with  the 
title  r6le.  The  jockey — who  does  not 
wish  his  name  to  appear  for  the 
present — has  no  musical  ear  and  prac- 
tically no  voice  (thus  differing  widely 
from  Mr.  RGzrc's  prima  donna],  but,  as 
he  points  out,  in  such  a  part  a  mastery 
of  the  art  of  equitation  is  far  more 
important  than  mere  vocal  fluency. 
Besides,  the  part  could  easily  be  sung 
"  off "  by  a  substitute,  just  as  Sir 
HEBBERT  TREE  is  able  vicariously  to 
perform  prodigies  of  musical  valour  on 
the  violin,  or  indeed  any  instrument. 

Hardly  less  interesting  is  the  pro- 
position which  has  been  made  to 
Mr.  HARRY  HIGGINS  of  the  Opera 
Syndicate  by  a  retired  engine-driver 
who  for  many  years  drove  the  express 
from  Paddington  to  Exeter.  The  veteran, 


a  man  of  fine  physique,  with  a  flowing 
beard,  on  learning  that  Mr.  UIGGINS  in- 
tended to  revive  The  Flying  Dutchman, 
intimated  his  readiness  to  undertake  the 
principal  role  for 'a  suitable  remunera- 
tion. On  being  informed,  however,  that 
the  hero  was  not  an  engine-driver  but 
a  sailor,  the  old  man  expressed  his 
opinion  of  WAGNER  with  more  vigour 
than  politeness. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  HIGGINS  has 
favourably  considered  the  application 
of  eight  young  ladies,  who  have  re- 
03ntly  obtained  their  pilot's  certificate 
at  Brooklands,  to  take  part  in  the  last 
Act  of  Die  Walkiire  on  hippo-aero- 
planes. Though  their  musical  educa- 
tion has  hitherto  been  entirely  neglected, 


HISTORIC  GOLF. 

JOAN  OF  ABO  PLAYS  A  LONG  SHOT  ODT  OF 
THE  HODGH. —  With  apologies  to  tlie  pictorial 
advertisement  of  Mr.  Raymond  R6ze's  Opera. 


it  is  confidently  expected  that  in  a  very 
few  weeks  they  will  be  able  to  sing  the 
roles  of  Briinnhilde  and  her  attendants 
in  a  thoroughly  competent  manner. 

"  He  walked  along  the  sloping  wooden  pro- 
jection that  is  used  as  a  landing  stage  for 
pleasure  skiffs,  walked  until  the  water  splashed 
over  him.  Then  he  dived  into  the  boiling 
serf." — Novel  Magazine. 

Serf  (boiling  ivith  indignation).  "  Now- 
then,  Sir,  look  out  where  you're 
coming." 

"  Wanted,  at  a  factory,  sixteen  Girls  to  sew 
buttons  on  the  sixth  floor." 

Aberdeen  Evening  Express, 

What  we  want  to  know  is,  how  is  the 
fifth  floor  supported  ? 

"SEVEN  KINGS  REVOLT  AGAINST  ILFORD." 
Daily  Chronicle. 
The  modern  "  Seven  Against  Thebes  "  ? 


THE     EDITORIAL    ADVERTISE- 
MENT   SCANDAL. 

WE  are  glad  to  observe  that  the  bare 
suggestion  that  any  British  journal 
could  bo  psrsuaded  to  publish  adver- 
tisements in  the  form  of  news  or 
Editorial  comment  has  been  received  by 
our  Press  with  a  universal  cry  of  horror 
and  indignation.  In  this  connection  a 
Society  paper  would  like  us  to  state 
that  the  following  passages,  about  to 
appear  in  its  pages  as  news  or  comments, 
are  the  honest  expression  of  Editorial 
conviction,  uttered  for  the  good  of  the 
reading  public ;  and  that,  if  it  should 
happen  that  the  same  issue  contains 
paid  advertisements  of  the  firms  there 
referred  to,  this  is  just  one  of  those 
strange  coincidences  which  cannot  be 
accounted  for. 

"  A  CHARMING  RESTAURANT. 
All  the  world  lunches  and  dines  at 
the  Reclame  in  Old  Sinister  Street ;  yot 
so  excellent  a  restaurant  should  surely 
he  more  widely  known.  I  have  patro- 
nised every  restaurant  in  tlio  Eastern 
Hemisphere  (writes  our  junior  reporter), 
but  I  can  truly  say  that  the  Reclame 
stands  alone.  Its  generous  proprietor, 
the  ever-courteous  Monsieur  Pousse, 
provides  a  marvellous  eighteenpenny 
table  d'hote.  No  wonder  the  success 
of  his  enterprise  is  colossal,  and  such 
famous  men  as  Lord  EOSEBERY,  Mr. 
EUSTACE  MILES,  Mr.  HENHY  CHAPLIN, 
Earl  STENCER,  and  Mr.  WILL  CROOKS, 
M.P.,  have  been  seen  not  a  thousand 
miles  away  from  Old  Sinister  Street 
when  the  hour  for  dining  approaches. 
Lucky  indeed  would  be  the  individual 
whom  the  gods  permitted  to  have  a 
share  in  the  well-deserved  profits  that 
Monsieur  Pousse  is  making." 

'•ANSWERS  TO  CORRESPONDENTS. 
Mabel. — Yes,  you  should  certainly 
be  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  food  you 
give  him.  But,  for  my  part  (and  I 
speak  for  myself  alone),  1  should  try 
Subtractipose,  which  I  believe  can  be 
obtained  from  1778a,  Cosmetic  Cham- 
bers, Old  Regent  Street,  W.  This 
worked  wonders  for  me  ;  and  after  three 
doses  concealed  in  his  soup  I  think  you 
need  have  no  further  fears  of  possessing 
the  fattest  husband  in  Surrey." 


"NEW  YORK,  Oct.  27. 

"  Miss  Katherine  Elkins,  whose  engagement 
to  the  Duke  of  the  Abruzzi  has  been  so  fre- 
quently announced,  was  married  at  her  homo 
in  West  Virginia  to  Mr.  Billy  P.  Hitt." 

One    time    the    semi-royal    name    of 

ELKINS 
Resounded   through  a  lot  of  different 

welkins ; 

Glory  came  first ;  joy  follows  after  it ; 
Miss   missed  her   Princeling,  but    has 

hit  her  HITT. 


NOVKMHEU  5,  iui3.]  PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.  333 


TRAGEDY    IN    "NUT"-LAND. 

"NCT"     DISCOVEP.S    SPECK    ON    SHIIIT-FIIONT— FE.VKS    MUD.       ExPEBT    OPINION',     IN     SHAPE    OP    C:tCSSING-S\YEEPEB,    DECLABES 
UNDOUBTEDLY   TO    BE    MUD.       COLLAPSE   OP    "NUT." 


HINTS  ON   SELECTING 
BOWLER 


;  Curly-brim  (or  balcony),  the  Flat-roofed 
I  (very  nutty  this  one  for  country  week- 
;  ends),  tbe  No-brim  (to  speak  of),  the 

THE  straw  hat  lias  run  its  course  for  '  Skyscraper,   and   the  One-storeyed  or 
1913,   and   if  not    too    sunburnt    and  i  Bungalow  type. 

battered  for  future  use  has  retired  to  \  If  you  are  foolish  or  weak  enough  to 
winter  quarters.  But  there  is  really  no  (  be  guided  by  the  Vendor,  you  will 
close  season,  no  "  on  and  off  "  licence, '  probably  leave  the  place  wearing  a  sort 
for  the  bowler  in  this  country.  One  •  of  pent-house  that  will  ba  the  butt  of 


hould  always  be  included  in  a  gentle- 
man's repertoire,  and  the  choosing  of  it 
is  a  serious  matter  not  to  be  lightly 


undertaken. 
The    offices 


of    some   of   the   firms 


devoting  themselves  to  the  planning 
and  erection  of  bowlers  are  plain  of 
exterior ;  others  are  ornate  and  the 
windows  decorated  with  full-  size  models 
rearing  such  legends  as  : — 


THE  LATEST. 


NEWEST  SHAPE. 


As  WORN. 


|  STYLISH.  | 


On  entering  the  establishment  you 
>refer,  you  will  probably  be  approached 
>y  the  Vendor  or  his  agent,  who,  on 
rour  requirements  iras  to  price  and 
accommodation  being  made  known,  will 
it  once  bring  forward  cases  containing 
>owlers  of  all  sizes  and  designs,  the 


your  friends  and  acquaintances,  or  one 
of  last  season's  designs  that  did  not 
"get  off." 

But,  if  you   are  a  knowing   buyer, 
on  seeing  a  likely,  serviceable-looking 
edifice,  you  will  say,  "  Please  allow  me 
a  few  moments  alone  with  this  one." 
Once  by   your  two    selves,   act    with 
firmness  and  decision.     After  pressing 
down  or  drawing  in  as  well  as  you  can 
your  cranial  excrescences,  place  the  hat 
carefully  on  your  head,  on  whatever  ( 
part  you  prefer  to  wear  it,  but  don't  be  ' 
satisfied  merely  because  you  think  you  ' 
look  well  in  it.     After  observing   the : 
effect  of  it  from  every  point  of  view, 
remove  the  hat  and  inspect  it  carefully 
from   basement   to   roof.     Turn   down 
the  leather  skirting  inside  and  examine 
the  structure  on   which  the   dome  is 
supported.      Make   sure   that  the  two 
are  properly   welded    together.     Pass 


your  hand  over  the  fan  vaulting  of 
satin  in  search  of  flaws,  and  read 
carefully  the  inscription  on  the  ceiling. 
Test  the  acoustic  properties  and  see 
that  the  proper  means  of  ventilation 
have  been  provided.  Your  hair  will 
strongly  resent  a  stuffy,  ill-ventilated 
hat,  and  may  show  a  desire  to  leave 
before  the  lease  is  up. 

When  you  have  thoroughly  investi- 
gated the  interior  of  the  premises  turn 
your  attention  to  the  exterior. 

Examine  the  ribbon  decoration 
running  round  the  building  just  above 
the  balcony.  This  should  be  of  the 
best  ribbed  silk,  and  the  bow  should  be 
well  and  truly  laid  against  the  left  wall, 
not  at  the  back.  Note  any  careless 
workmanship  with  a  view  to  a  possible 
reduction  in  the  price. 

Last  of  all,  administer  a  few  blows  to 
the  crown.  If  dust  flies  out  you  know 
that  the  structure  is  old  and  insanitary. 
Should  dents  or  cracks  appear  in  the 
roof  or  walls,  rejoin  the  Vendor  at  once, 
mix  the  hat  up  amongst  the  others  you 
have  rejected,  and  ask  to  see  a  few 
more.  Do  not  be  discouraged.  You 
are  pretty  sure  to  find  something  suit- 
able among  tbe  first  hundred  shown 
you. 


LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  5,  1913. 


"THE    WITCH." 

[An  evening  at  the  St.  James'  Theatre  with 
iiue  of  the  gloom  rubbed  off.] 

ACT  I. 

TIMK— The  sixtmith  century. 
SCENE— The   courtyard    of   Absolon 
Beyer's   house.     Absolon's    second 
u-ij'e,   Anne   Pedeisdotter,    is   dis- 
covered alone.     Enter  Martin.    He 
looks  at  Anne  doubtfully. 
Martin.    Good   morning.     I— er— -is 
Master  Absolon  in? 
Anne,  lie  is  out. 

Martin.  Oh!  Er— are  you— we—- 
surely I  've  seen  you  before  somewhere  ? 
Anne.  I  don't  think  so.  I  am  Anne 
Pedersdotter. 

Martin  (puzzled].  I  beg  your  pardon 
— whose  daughter  ? 

Anne.  Anne  Pedersdotter,  wife 
to  Master  Absolon. 

Martin.  Oh,  I  see!  Why,  then 
you  're  my  stepmother  ?  I  'm 
Martin. 

Anne.  Martin!  I've  heard 
such  a  lot  about  you.  You  're 
just  back  from  the  University, 
aren't  you? 

Martin  (proudly}.  Yes,  I  'm 
a  B.A.  now ;  it  has  been  a  long 
business — five  years.  And  I 
haven't  seen  my  father  all  that 
time.  He  mentioned  in  one  of 
his  letters  that  he  was  marry- 
ing again,  but — (sadly) — I  was 
having  a  little  trouble  with  my 
Latin  declensions  just  then,  and 
it  slipped  my  memory.  (He 
goes  closer  to  her.)  But  surely 
we  've  met  somewhere  ? 
Anne.  I  don't  think  so. 
Martin.  Yes,  now  I  've  got  it. 
Do  you  remember,  fifteen  years 
some  waits  singing  carols  outside  your 
house?  And  a  window  was  opened 
and  a  little  girl  poured  a  jug  of  cold 
water  on  them  ?  You  were  that  little 
girl — I  remember  you  now.  Ugh  ! 

Anne  (excitedly).  And  you  were  one 
of  the  waits.  I  remember  your  voice. 
You  sang  very  badly. 

Martin.  I  was  only  eleven. 
Anne.  And  I  was  eight.     Just  fancy 
— it  '&  quite  a  romance ! 

Enter  Absolon. 

Absolon.  My  boy !  My  dear  boy ! 
Martin.  Father! 

Absolon.  So  you're  back  from  the 
University — and  with  a  degree  ?  What 
a  day  this  is!  Mensa,  mensa,  mensam, 
mensae,  inensae,  mensa. 

Martin.  Er — Amo,  amas,  amat 

Absolon.  How  it  brings  back  my 
own  University  days!  Hie,  hacc,  hoc, 
hujus,  huic —  You  must  excuse  us, 
Anne,  but  when  we  University  men 


dictum. 
turn. 


your 


Absolon.  She  used  to  summon  people 
before  her,  just  by  calling  upon  their 
names.  She  had  that  wicked  power. 

Anne  (eagerly).  Is  it  hereditary? 

Absolon.  I  hope  not.     (He  kisses  ilie 


(Martin  Icolis  appeal! ngly  at  Anne.) 

Anne.  Oh,  father,  I've  got  amessag 
for  .vou,  but   Martin's  coming   put   i 

quite  out  of  my  head.     You  're  wanted  |  top  of  her  head.)     And  now  I  must  go 
up  on  the  common— they  're  burning  a  <  to  bed.     Good  night.  [Exit. 

witch  or  something.     They  want  you  |      Anne.  I  wonder.     I  think  I  11  just 
to  bo  there  in  case  she  confesses.     I   try  .  .  .  One,  two,  three— Martin 


think  that  was  it. 

Absolon  (getting  iip).  Well,  well, 
I  suppose ,1.  must  go.  I  don't  like  to 
leave  you,  Martin,  my  boy,  but  it 's  not 
for  long.  When  I  come  back  from  this 
little  conflagration  I  shall  have  much 
to  talk  to  you  about.  Balbm  acdijicat 
murum  Ubi  cst  Balbus  ?  Dear,  dear, 
how  it  all  comes  back.  Ignis,  igncin 
.  .  .  A  witcli — 1  wonder  who  it  is? 
CURTAIN.  [Exit. 


A  VERY  GLOOMY  PLAY. 

Martin        Mr.  DENNIS  NEILSON-TEHRY. 

Anne  Pedersdotter  ..         ..     Miss  LIIXAH  MCCABTHY. 
Absolon  Beyer         ..         ..     Mr.  J.  D.  BEVEKIDGE. 


ago, 


get  together 


ACT  II. 

Inside  the  house.     Evening. 
Absolon    (gloomily).    Anne,    Martin, 
gather  round  me.     I  have  a  confession 
to  make.   It 's  about  Anne's  mother. .  .  . 
Anne,  your  mother  was  a  witch  ! 

Anne.  A  what  ? 

Absolon.  I  said  a  witch.  Five  years 
ago  I  discovered  it.  She  had  a  daughter 
living  with  her ;  I  loved  that  daughter. 
It  was  my  duty  to  deliver  up  the  mother 
and  the  child  to  be  burnt.  Instead.! 
spared  the  mother  and  married  the 
daughter.  Anne,  Martin,  can  you  for- 
give me  my  sin  ? 

Anne.  Was  I  the  daughter  ? 

Absolon.  Yes. 

Anne.  Then  I  forgive  you. 

Martin.  I  think  you  look  at  it  rather 
selfishly,  Anne.  It  was  very  wrong  ol 
father.  Father,  I  will  retire  and  think 
it  over.  Good  night.  [Exit. 

Anne.  Tell     me    more     about     my 


Enter  Martin. 
Anne  (excitedly).  I  am  a  witch!    (She 
turns  to  Martin  and  holds  out  her  arms 
to  him.     He  falls  into  them.) 
CURTAIN. 

ACT  III. 

Another  evening.  As  Absolon  comes 
in,  Anne  and  Martin  break  au-ay 
•from  each  other. 

Absolon.  I  have  been  seeing  the 
doctor.  He  says  my  heart  is 
very  weak,  and  any  sudden 
shock  may  kill  me.  Somehow 
I  have  a  sort  of  feeling  that  I 
am  going  to  die  to-night. 

Martin  (quickly).  Oh,  don't 
say  that,  father. 

Anne  (not  quite  so  quickly). 
N-no,  don't  say  that. 

Martin.  Well,  anyhow,  I  'm 
going  to  bed.  Good  night. 

[Exit. 

Anne..  Tell  me  more  about 
my  mother.  What  other  powers 
had  she? 

Absolon.  She  could  kill  a  per- 
son by  looking  at  him  and  say- 
ing, "I  wish  you  were  deadj.  " 

Anne.  Fancy  !     (To  lierself)  I 
wonder.     I  think  I  '11  just  try 
.  .  .  Absolon,  look  at  me.    Now 
listen — I  love  your  son ;  he  loves 
me.     If  you  were  dead  I  could 
live  with  him.    I  wish  you  were 
(Absolon  dies.)     Good  heavens, 
I  've  done  it  again  !  Martin ! 
Enter  Martin.    She  falls  into  his  arms. 
CURTAIN. 


dead. 


Dico,  dicere,  dixi,  \  mother.     What  did  she  do  ? 


ACT  V 
TIME — The  Twentieth  Century. 

SCENE— The  inside  of  a  taxi-cab. 

Wife.  Ugh,  what  a  play!  I  shal 
dream  horrible  things  to-night. 

Husband.  Powerful's  hardly  the  word 
You  know,  there  are  some  people  in  thai 
play  with  very  nasty  minds.   1  shouldn' 
like  to  annoy  Anne  on  a  dark  night  .  . 
Jove,  LILLAH  MCCARTHY  was  good. 

Wife.  Wonderful.  Too  good.  Oh 
that  last  Act !  Why  didn't  you  take  mi 
out  at  the  end  of  the  third  one  ? 

Husband.  Well,  I  wanted  to  see  wha 
happened   after   Absolon   died  .  .  . 
say,  look  here,  we  can't  go  home  lik< 
this.    Let 's  go  and  have  a  cheery  suppe 
somewhere,  just  to  buck  us  up. 

CURTAIN.         A.  A.  M. 


NOVEMBER  5,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


395 


BALHAM  FOLLOWS  THE  DUCAL  LEAD. 

Visitor  (from  town).  "WHAT  ON  EARTH  is  HAPPENING?" 

Hostess.  "On,  PUTTING  THE  LAND  INTO  CULTIVATION.    ALL  THE  BEST  PEOPLE  ARE  DOING  IT. 


TO   AN    OLD   FRIEND. 

MY  DEAR  OLD  CHAP, — I  simply  can't  help  writing  to 
you.  I  want  to  tell  you  again  how  enormously  I  enjoyed 
mooting  you  again  this  morning  aftor  all  these  years.  Do 
you  know,  I  had  almost  forgotten  your  very  name  (your 
fault,  old  man,  for  keeping  yourself  away  from  me),  and 
then,  almost  before  I  could  think  about  it,  there  you  were, 
just  the  same  clever,  refined,  abbreviated,  sly  fellow  that 
you  used  to  be.  That  was,  indeed,  a  meeting. 

You  wouldn't  tell  me  where  you  had  been  or  what  had 
been  happening  to  you.  Were  you  wise  in  that  ?  I  should 
have  sympathised,  you  know.  I  should  have~said  to  myself, 
"  Dear  old  Verb.  Sap.  Sat.  has  had  bad  luck.  His  gold  mina 
in  South  Africa  has  gone  wrong,  or  they  haven't  been  kind 
to  him  in  South  America,  or  they  wouldn't  give  him  a  job 
in  Uganda,  and  he  's  had  to  retire  from  the  glare  of  the 
world  and  live  a  very  quiet  life.  But  now  that  he  's  recovered 
a  bit  and  got  out  again  wo  must  all  be  good  to  him  and  try 
to  make  it  up  to  him  a  bit."  Something  of  that  kind  I 
should  havo  said,  and  then  I  should  have  taken  you  to 
The  Cock  and  given  you  a  braes  of  sausages  on  mashed 
potatoes,  and  we  should  have  wandered  about  Fleet  Street 
and  tried  to  recall  some  of  the  old  scenes  and  the  old  faces 
from  that  past  in  which  everybody  knew  you  and  far  too 
many  used  you  for  their  own  purposes.  One  old  man  with 
a  fishy  eye  and  a  very  shiny  frosk-coat  did  seem  to  recognise 
you  after  we  had  parted.  "  There 's  something  about  that 
fellow,"  I  heard  him  muttering,  "  that  reminds  me  of  old 
Verb.  Sap.  Sat.  But  no,  it  can't  be.  He's  dead  long 


ago."  I  could  have  enlightened  him,  but  I  judged  it  bolter 
to  hold  my  tongue. 

It  wasn't  only  Fleet  Street  that  knew  you  in  the  happy 
past.  Peers  quoted  you ;  solicitors  mentioned  you  in  their 
letters.  I  have  heard  the  Colonel  of  a  cavalry  regiment 
boast  of  his  acquaintance  with  you  after  mess,  and  all  the 
young  subalterns  were  much  impressed,  declaring  that  the 
old  man  knew  a  thing  or  two  and  it  was  no  use  trying  to 
get  the  better  of  him.  But,  of  course,  all  that's  over  long 
ago,  and  perhaps  it 's  foolish  of  me  to  remind  you  of  it. 

By  the  way,  I  wonder  if  you  could  tell  me  anything  about 
Quis  Custodiet,  another  old  friend  of  ours.  I  saw  him  last 
a  very  long  time  ago  sitting  close  to  a  magistrate  who  was 
sentencing  a  policeman  for  an  aggravated  assault  on  a 
costermonger,  but  since  then  I  've  heard  nothing  oi  him. 
If  you  ever  knock  up  against  him  remember  me  to  him. 

And  now  farewell.  We  may  never  meet  again,  but  I 
shall  often  think  of  you.  . 

Yours  to  a  quote,          A.  TAGO. 

"Belfast,  Thursday. 

"  Aviator  Dancourt,  who  skirted  on  Tuesday  from  Paris  to  fly  to 
Cairo,  arrived  hero  to-day  with  passenger  Koux. — Beuter." 

Brighton  Argus. 

Aviator  DANCOURT  (to  Passenger  Roux) :  Yes,  it  is  a  bit  out 
of  the  way,  but  I  thought  you  'd  like  to  have  Captain  CHAIO 
pointed  out  to  you. 

From  an  account  of  the  sports  of  the  Wiltshire  Eegiment: — 

"  BBEVVEB'S  CUP — won  by  A  Coy.  with  40J  points." 
An  apparent  misprint  for  "  pints." 


306 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  5,  1913. 


THE    ELUCIDATION. 

(After  the  manner  of  the  Parliamentary 
Correspondent  of  "  The  Daily  News.") 

ALREADY  the  rural  districts  are  agog. 
The  CHANCELLOR'S  great  message  lias 
come  home  to  the  highways  and  hedges 
and  roused  at  last  from  their  patient 
apathy  the  toilers  of  the  soil.  Further, 
we  have  no  doubt  at  all  that  they  will 
be  considerably  more  roused  when  we 
have  had  an  opportunity  of  explaining 
what  it  means.  Lot  us  examine  the 
proposals. 

It  is  recognised  that  the  Minimum 
Wage  is  the  pivot.  The  Provision  of 
Cottages,  in  the  same  way,  may  be 
said  to  be  the  lever ;  it  would  perhaps 
not  be  inapt  to  describe  Security  of 
Tenure  as  the  driving-wheel  of  the  new 
machinery  of  the  land. 

Dealing  first  with  the  question  of  a 
Minimum  Wage  (for  until  the  labourer 
is  enabled  to  pay  an  economic  rent  for 
his  cottage,  a  financial  price  for  his 
bacon  and  a  commercial  contribution 
to  his  Christmas  Goose  Club  no  advance 
in  any  direction  is  possible)  it  may  be 
said  at  once  that  payment  in  kind  must 
go  the  way  of  other  feudal  impositions. 
We  must  have  daily  cash  for  daily  toil. 
Let  there  be  no  mistake  about  that. 

Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'sfigures  regarding 
the  shortage  of  cottages  (which  have 
appalled  the  nation)  next  call  for  com- 
ment. It  is  now  freely  admitted  that 
the  State  must  step  in  with  no  uncertain 
hand — that  is,  no  uncertain  foot.  The 
provision  of  120,000  cottages,  which  is 
contemplated  as  a  first  instalment, 
would  provide,  as  far  as  one  can  judge, 
something  like  the  same  number  of 
homes.  That  indeed  is  manifest,  but  it 
involves  the  purchase  of  land.  Cottages, 
it  is  recognised,  must  have  something 
to  rest  on ;  they  cannot  be  suspended, 
however  much  the  shooting  tenant 
might  prefer  that  arrangement  as 
causing  less  disturbance  to  the  ground 
game.  Now,  it  is  intended  to  build 
four  cottages  to  the  acre,  so  that  for  this 
purpose  the  amount  of  land  required 
would  be,  roughly  speaking,  30,000 
acres.  At  a  cost  of  £-50  an  acre  this 
would  come  to  £1,500,000.  Let  us 
suppose  that  the  Board  of  Agriculture 
can  build  at  the  rate  of  £150  for  each 
cottage.  Very  well.  This  means 
£18,000,000,  or,  including  the  ground 
to  build  thereon,  £19,500,000.  In  any 
case  there  must  be  no  turning  back. 

The  figures  given  of  the  increase  in 
the  number  of  game-keepers  (which 
have  staggered  the  community)  must 
next  come  under  review.  It  is  recog- 
nised that  when  the  pheasant  and  the 
fox  are  no  longer  free  to  gorge  them- 
selves to  repletion  upon  the  food  of  the 
people  many  of  these  men  will  be  thrown 


out  of  employment.  The  problem  is 
best  understood  in  conjunction  with 
security  of  tenure.  A  little  imagination 
will  show  that  as  soon  as  the  farmer  is 
safe  against  summary  eviction  (a  feai 
which  to-day  casts  a  shadow  on  many 
a  homestead)  he  will  be  encouraged  to 
spend  his  money  more  freely  upon  the 
small  amenities  of  his  house.  To  give 
only  one  instance,  it  will  be — for  the 
first  time,  mark  you — well  worth  his 
while  to  order  large  quantities  of  note- 
paper  stamped  with  his  address.  Calling 
cards  may  even  come  into  vogue  in 
some  places.  Then  he  will  bo  able  to 
launch  out  into  more  expensive  wall- 
papers. He  will  no  longer  gnidgo  to 
measure  his  rooms  for  carpets.  All 
this  means  work.  And  in  the  great 
revival  of  rural  industry  that  is  thus 
to  come  the  labour  of  the  superfluous 
game-keepers  will  soon  be  absorbed. 

Gun-makers  are  also  alarmed,  as  I 
learn  by  personal  investigation  in  the 
proper  quarter,  but  surely  without 
cause.  It  is  the  peculiar  virtue  of  the 
new  proposals  that  every  one  is  bound 
to  profit  by  them.  We  may  confidently 
look  for  a  sharp  revival  in  the  gun 
trade,  when  farmers  come  to  arm  them- 
selves against  the  hordes  of  weasels  and 
sparrow-hawks  which  will  appsar  to 
prey  upon  their  beans  and  clover  as 
soon  as  the  game-keepers  are  with- 
drawn. At  least  that  is  the  opinion  in 
Meet  Street,  whatever  may  be  felt  in 
the  rural  communities. 

Finally  it  may  be  asked,  Where  does 
the  landlord  come  in  ?  He  will,  of  course, 
have  to  be  content  with  less  rent,  less 
power  over  his  property,  less  game. 
But  with  an  opulent  and  contented 
peasantry  at  his  very  gates  he  will  be 
relieved  from  the  present  odious  neces- 
sity of  providing  Christinas  rabbits  and 
winter  blankets ;  from  all  that  vast 
degrading  traffic  in  tips  and  doles  upon 
which  his  position  so  largely  depends. 

There  must  be  no  turning  back.  A 
new  spirit  is  sweeping  through  the 
villages.  The  Motherland  is  recking 
with  excitement. 


SHOULD    RIVAL    POLITICIANS 
DINE   TOGETHER? 

THE  report  of  Lord  WILLOUGHBY  DE 
BROKE'S  announcement  that  he  will  not 
dine  with  Mr.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL,  and 
of  his  protest  against  dining  at  all  with 
one's  political  enemies,  is  causing  some- 
thing like  social  revolution  in  our  midst. 

In  order  to  meet  any  difficulty  which 
the  new  custom  might  create,  it  has 
been  suggested  that  the  hour  of  dining 
should  become  a  fixed  political  principle, 
like  tariff  reform  or  the  nationalisation 
of  landlords  or  the  keeping  of  people 
.n  their  places.  An  impartial  critic 


proposes  that  Conservatives  should 
adopt  8  P.M.  as  their  hour  for  dining, 
that  Liberals  should  dine  habitually  at 
7  V.M.,  and  adherents  of  the  Labour 
Party  at  1  P.M.  or  thereabouts,  and 
Irish  Nationalists  never. 

Yet  there  are  family  and  other  ties 
between  people  of  opposite  opinions 
which  cannot  thus  be  severed ;  and 
even  if  connections  of  this  sort  are  not 
definitely  asked  to  dine,  it  will  still  be 
felt,  by  such  as  do  not  see  altogether  ' 
eye  to  eye  with  Lord  W'ILLOUGHBY  DE 
BROKE  in  his  decision,  that 
courtesy  should  bo  shown  to  them.  1 
To  this  end  a  new  fashion  in  invita- 
tion cards  is  likely  to  arise.  Lady 
Primrose-Dame  will  send  a  card  to 
Mr.  Singletax,  requesting  the  pleasure 
of  his  absence  from  dinner  on  December 
5th  ;  to  which  Mr.  Singletax  will  reply 
that,  owing  to  another  engagement  on 
December  5th,  he  is  glad  to  be  able 
to  accept  Lady  Primrose-Dame's  kind 
invitation. 

But  we  hope  it  is  not  too  late  for 
Lord  WILLOUGHBY  DE  BROKE  to  be 
persuaded  to  swallow  the  hatchet  and 
think  better  of  letting  political  principles 
interfere  with  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 
We  beg  him  to  reflect  on  the  bitter 
disappointment  that  might  be  caused  to 
many  if  his  example  should  rob  them 
of  dining  occasionally  with  a  lord. 
There  is,  of  course,  the  type  of  man  who 
declares  that  food  would  only  choke  him 
if  taken  in  the  company  of  a  political 
enemy  ;  but  he  must  not  overlook  the 
fact  that  there  is  always  a  possibility  of 
his  enemy,  from  like  reasons,  being 
choked.  Again  there  is  the  fear  that 
at  the  dinner-table  your  hated  opponent 
might  perform  the  significant  ceremony 
of  helping  you  to  salt;  but  this  act  could 
always  be"  responded  to  with  pepper. 


ON  THE  POETEAIT  OF  A 
BEAUTY,  NOW  IN  EETIREMENT. 

THIS  is  Isabel,  and  she 

Once  was  young,  like  you  and  me ; 

Making  youthful  hearts  to  stir, 
Youthful  feet  to  follow  her. 

Now  she  deems  it  right  to  wear 
Sober  garb  and  serious  air ; 

Seems  to  think  the  beauty  gone 
Foolish  lovers  doted  on. 

But,  alas !  a  simpler  dress 
Cannot  hide  her  loveliness  ; 

Other  men  as  well  as  I 
Murmur,  as  she  passes  by, 

"  If  perhaps  in  fifty  years 

Time  confirms  your  present  fears, 

Placing  you  upon  the  shelf, 
May  I  have  you  to  myself?  " 


.  NOVEMHKR    /),    1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


ANOTHER    WORLD'S    WORKER. 

TUB  AIITIST  WHO  PAINTS  THE  BLACK  HALVES  ON  ".RESTOKED"  PICTURES. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
MR.  FORREST  EEID  is  a  writer  from  whom  one  may 
always  expect  work  that  will  have  a  quality  of  refinement 
and  distinction.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  think  The  Gentle 
Lover  (ARNOLD)  altogether  equal  to  the  books  that  have 
preceded  it,  but  this  is  only  because  the  plot  is  rather  more 
obvious  and  ordinary  than  has  been  the  case  with  Mr.  REID'S 
other  stories.  His  touch  is  as  tender  (this  is  the  only 
possible  word  for  it)  as  ever.  Perhaps  it  was  hardly 
possible  for  him  to  present  the  middle-aged  lover  in  any 
new  light;  the  character  is  one  that  has  been  too  hard 
worked  in  fiction  to  retain  any  of  the  charm  ot  novelty. 
Still  Bcnnet  Alingham  has  charm,  and  enough  reality  to 
make  me  hops  against  hope,  even  up  to  the  final  chapter, 
that  precedent  was  going  to  be  falsified  in  the  matter  of  the 
bestowal  of  the  heroine.  Perhaps  it  is  because  of  a  natural, 
and  increasing,  fellow-fesling  with  the  adorer  who  is  no 
longer  in  his  romantic  youth  that  I  always  feel  a  little  sore 
when  he  is  dismissed  to  a  future  of  picturesque  but  unsatis- 
factory regrets.  Of  the  other  characters  in  the  tale  I  cared 
far  the  most  for  Brian,  the  red-haired  and  altogether 
pleasing  young  brother  of  the  heroine.  Alingham  certainly 
was  well  called  the  gentle  lover ;  so  little  was  his  adoration 
insisted  upon  that  1  doubt  if  to  the  end  of  the  story  Sylvia, 
its  object,  was  aware  of  it.  Its  gently  sentimental  course 
runs  in  pleasant  placss — Bruges,  Florence,  Pisa — all  drawn 
in  a  way  that  makes  me  think  that  Mr.  EEID  must  have 
recalled  happy  memories  in  writing  about  them.  Indeed, 
these  pictures  of  uneventful  travel  are  really  more  attractive 
than  the  slender  story  that  strings  them  together. 

Penetrate  by  all  means,  with  Mr.  E.  TEMPLE  TEUHSTON, 


into  the  little  shops  on  the  southern  side  of  the  river,  or 
the  mean  dwellings  of  Soho,  or  pace  the  streets  with  him 
all  day  long,  and  sleep  at  last  on  the  Embankment  or  the 
steps  of  a  squalid  doorway  as  he  shall  direct  you ;  for  you 
will  bo   touched,  amused,  and,  more  than  that,  you  will 
be  greatly  cheered;  you  will  encounter  no  gruff  -words  or 
harshness  of  heart  in  these  sordid  places,  but  only  a  kindly 
sentimentalism  that  almost  out-does  DICKENS  and  incident- 
ally destroys  the  author's  rather  elaborate  pretensions  to 
realistic  treatment  of  life,     liichard  Furlong  (CHAPMAN  AND 
HALL)  was  an  artist  (and  a  very  good  name  for  an  artist 
too,  for  it  was  long  and  curled  down  right  over  his  collar), 
an  artist  unrecognised  for  more  than  three  hundred  pages, 
except  by  the  good-hearted  dwellers  in  lowly  purlieus,  like 
Mr.   Nibbs,   the  little  picture   dealer,   Mrs.  Baldwin,   the 
young  man's  landlady,  and  her  daughter  distance,  a  music- 
i  liall  artiste,  with  whom  he  conducted  a  liaison,  and  whom 
i  afterwards,  when  disowned  by  his  father  and  jilted  by  his 
\fiancee,  he  persuaded   (against  the   girl's  own  advice)  to 
j  marry  him.     liichard  was  a  bit  of  a  genius,  it  seems,  and 
!  the  first  man  to  make  coloured  wood-blocks;  but  everybody 
!  (everybody  who  was  poor,  that  is  to  say)  was  so  kind  to 
!  him,   that  I   failed  to  sympathise  very   deeply   with   the 
struggles  of  his  unrecognised  inspiration.     That  distance 
suddenly  died,  for  no  particular  reason,  at  the  end  of  the 
book,  I  simply  refuse,  in  spite  of  Mr.  TEMPLE  THUKSTCN'S 
explicit  assertion,  to  believe.     For  Fate,  in  the  presence  of 
tl:e  author's  indefatigable  optimism,  could  never  have  had 
the  face  to  do  a  thing  like  that.     By  the  way,  there  is  one 
little  error  in  the  book  that  ought  to  be  put  right.     Two 
very  pleasant  wood-cuts  are  reproduced,  which  are  stated 
to  be  the  work  of  Richard  Furlong,  but  are  signed  W.  R.  D. 
I  hope  this  rather  careless  oversight  will  be  corrected  in  the 
second  edition. 


-.1 


3U3 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  5,  1913. 


I   may   say 


at  once 


that   Mr.  FRANCIS  GUIHHLE'.H    The 


Romance  of  'the  Cambridijr  Colleges  (MILLS  AND  BOON)  is 
an  agreeable  book,  and  that  Cambridge  men  will  do  well 
to  tad  it  to  their  libraries.  To  be  sure,  Mr.  GaiBBLE 
is  himself  an  Oxford  man,  but  he  avows  the  dreadful  fact 
with  a  candour  that  disarms  criticism.  And,  after  all, 
the  book  speaks — I  might  almost  say  chats — for  itself.  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  would  be  easy  to  justify  the  word 
"Romance"  in  the  title,  it  seems  to  me  not  to  express 
quite  accurately  the  manner  in  which  Mr.  GKIHBLE  deals 
with  the  story  of  the  various  colleges.  He  mentions  great 
names  and  gives  an  account 
of  the  strange  characters  who 
have  always  abounded  in  Cam- 
bridge ;uid  whom  no  Koyal 
Commissions  and  no  legislative 
reforms  can  utterly  abolish  or 
destroy.  But  a  string  of  anec- 
dotes, however  well  told  (and 
Mr.  GBIBBLE  tells  them  ex- 
cellently and  with  gusto),  is  not 
precisely  equivalent  to  -what 
most  of  us  understand  by  "  Eo- ! 
mance."  However,  they  make  \ 
pleasant  reading  and  thus  satisfy  j 
to  a  large  extent  what  must  have  : 
been  the  author's  desire,  and  is  j 
certainly  that  of  his  readers. ! 
I  commend  very  highly  Mr.  { 
CRIBBLE'S  gift  of  literary  tact. 
It  is  well  known,  for  instance,  I 
that  members  of  St.  John's  j 
College  have  a  nickname — at 
any  rate,  they  used  to  have  one ; ! 
perhaps  the  more  delicate  sus- 
ceptibilities of  our  own  day  have 
swept  it  away.  Still,  there  it 
was,  and  Mr.  GBIBELE  was ! 
bound  to  mention  it.  Ho  per- 
forms his  task  with  an  allusive 
discretion  which  cannot  ofl'end 
even  the  most  patriotic  and  j 
sensitive  Johnian.  Finally,  I  j 
must  congratulate  Mr.  GRIBBLE 
on  having  been  able  to  escape 
for  a  time  from  the  narration 
of  the  more  or  less  scandalous 
love  affairs  of  celebrated  ladies. ! 
To  these  his  fluent  pen  has! 
been  largely  devoted,  and  I  can- ! 
not  help  thinking  he  is  better 


suppose  this  was  quite  what  Catholic  Kitty  meant.  Then 
came  along  the  real  man,  not  a  better  man,  not  a  nicer 
man,  but  just  the  man.  So  there  was  nothing  to  be  done 
but  to  follow  the  gleam  in  Julius  Pole's  eyes.  Unhappiness 
comes  of  it,  and  Angelina,  always  sincere  and  pure  in  heart, 
makes  amends.  And  I  don't  like  that  part  of  it  so  well  as 
her  childhood,  her  early  love  passages,  and  her  first  letter 
to  St.  Mary  of  Egypt — her  later  correspondence  was  more 
self-conscious.  And  it  was  very  nice  to  be  reminded  by  the 
"  little  naked  baby  doll  of  pink  soap,"  which  papa  Peachey 
gave  Angelina  to  comfort  her  in  some  childish  sorrow,  of  a 

little  pink  soap  sister  of  Ange- 
lina's consoler  once  very,  very 
dear  to  my  own  young  heart. 


occupied  when  telling  anecdotes  of  the  Cambridge  colleges. 

I  have  just  met  a  very  dear  and  charming  girl,  Angelina 
Peachey,  in  the  pleasant  pages  of  Set  to  Partners  (HEINE- 
MANN),  and  I  want  to  know  why  nobody  ever  seriously 
introduced  me  before  to  her  creatrix,  Mrs.  HENKY  DUDENEY. 
Angelina  had  a  grandmother  who  was  no  better  than  she 
ought  to  be,  but  a  good  deal  prettier  than  she  might  have 
been  according  to  the  table  of  chances  in  these  matters,  and 
Angelina,  it  was  prophesied,  would  take  after  her.  Well, 
she  did  and  she  didn't.  She  had  learned  from  a  delightful] 
plain  Irish  Catholic  maid  how  serious  and  big  a  matter 


As  a  warm  admirer  of  Mr. 
MARRIOTT'S  work  I  would  gladly 
have  opened  the  flood-gates  and 
praised  Subsoil  (HuitsT  AND 
BLACKETT)  without  reserve,  but 
my  trouble  is  that  his  book 
pretends  to  be  a  romance,  and 
is  really  a  very  clever  essay 
upon  painting.  It  deals  too 
much  with  minds  and  too  little 
with  morals  to  be  a  popular 
success.  Nevertheless  by 
thoughtful  people  who  are  in- 
terested in  the  connection  be- 
tween life  and  art  it  has  simply 
got  to  bs  read,  for  however 
violently  they  may  dissent  from 
the  views  expressed  by  Saffery, 
the  novelist,  and  Hugh  Suther- 
land, the  painter,  they  must 
admit  that  Mr.  MARRIOTT  is  an 
eloquent  champion.  The  tale 
itself  suffers  from  the  defect 
that  at  the  outset  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  guess  the  ending. 
No  sooner  have  you  discovered 
the  author's  point  of  view  than 
you  know  that  Sutherland  and 
his  fiancee  Sylvia  Bradley  must 
drift  apart.  Mr.  MARRIOTT'S 
characters,  though  their  conver- 
sation is  almost  bewilderingly 
!  instructive,  are  not  puppets  ; 

DENTIST  WITH  TOOTHACHE  TRIES  TO  REASSUHE  HIMSELF  BY  ;  fchey.     are     without      exception 
BEPEATING  FORMULA  EMPLOYED  WITH  CLIENTS.  j  admirably  drawn  ;  all  the  same, 

—  they  are  a  little   overwhelmed 

by  the  idea  which  they  are  used  to  exploit.     And  I  am  left 
wondering  whether  the  author  has  not  sacrificed  one  form 


of  art  in  propounding  his  views  upon  another. 


being  in  love  was,  and  how  it  was  a  dreadful  thing  to 

marry  except  for  love.     This  was  about  the  only  religious  |  How  dull.] 

Caching  she  ever  had.     So  when  Angelina  met  a  man  who  I 

:ell  in  love  with  her  she  wouldn't  marry  him  until  she  was 


From  an  Insurance  Company's  advertisement  :— 
"  Total  Disablement  by  35  diseases  (26  weeks)  £3  per  week." 
Not  worth  it.      [Additional  note -by  COMMENTATOR:   This 
is   another  example  of  the  danger  of  dictating  important 
announcements.       "Certified  diseases,"  said  the  Secretary, 
and  as  the  result  of  his  hereditary  lisp  it  came  out  "  Thirty- 
five  diseases."     EDITOR  :  Nonsense.     It  really  means  "  any 

_     P  1     1         •  1  f*  •    /»  1  T.  __•  *' 


one    of   thirty-five    specified   diseases."      COMMHNTATOU: 


QU  te  sure   hoTte*   1  °,  W*n  '  Hoadstone.  '  ^et  high,  cost  £  12,  for  £9  ;  selling  che ,p  throtv  1, 

ire,  but  took  bun  on  trial,  so  to  speak,  though  all     death  of  proprietor."— Glasgow  Evening  Times 

the  world  understood  her  to  be  his  wife.     And  I  don't !  It  would  seem  to  be- the  exact  moment  when  he  wanted  it. 


NOVEMBER  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  399 


O    ,^J^    s» 


•i  SURE]  -t 

.KEEP-TO  TTO   R1C.MT  J 


THE    TRAFFIC    TROUBLE. 

WllTC  NOT  OR3A.SISE  THE  PEDESTRIAN  TRAFFIC  IS   BUST  THOROUGHFARES? — Mr.  Punch. 


CHARIVARIA. 

A  FINE  statue  of  RAMESES  II.,  which 
has  long  been  hidden  away  near 
Bedrashin,  is  being  erected  by  Lord 
KITCHENER  in  a  prominent  position  at 
Cairo.  There  is  no  petty  jealousy 
about  K.  OF  K.  ,..  ... 

It  is  possible  that  Battsrsea  may 
choose  a  coloured  gentleman  for  its 
Mayor.  Personally,  we  should  be 
pleased  to  see  this.  Anything  would 
be  better  than  the  present  monotonous 
arrangement  by  which  all  our  Mayors 

are  of  the  same  hue. 

*   •:• 

Skipping  is  again  being  recommended 
as  an  aid  to  health.  It  is  said  that 
many  book-reviewers  would  not  be  alive 
to-day  had  they  not  practised  this  art. 

-.;:     :;: 

The  prevailing  craze !  Smith  Minor, 
asked  in  his  Latin  examination  to 
translate  tctigi,  replied,  "  I  have 
Tango-ed."  $  * 

* 

Bishop  QUAYLE,  of  Washington,  has 
been  discussing  the  respective  merits 
of  thin  men  and  fat  men,  and  has  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  former  are 
often  wicked  and  the  latter  nearly 
always  good.  As  a  thin  man  ourselves 
we  would  like  to  ask  whether  the 
reason  of  this  wonderful  goodness  of 
the  fat  men  may  not  be  due  to  realisa- 
tion of  the  difficulty  they  would  have 
in  running  away  from  the  police '.' 


And  Dr.  LEONARD  K.  HIRSHBERO,  of 
Johns  Hopkins  University,  has  been 
studying  the  question  of  the  colour  of 
our  eyes.  "Black  eyes,"  he  has  come 
to  the  conclusion,  "  are  often  found 
associated  with  strong  passions."  This 
view  is  one  which  has  long  been  held 

by  policemen  and  magistrates. 
&  ;i- 

* 
Since   Sir  THOMAS   CLOUSTON,  in  a 

lecture  at  the  Eoyal  College  of 
Physicians,  Edinburgh,  emphasised  the 
need  for  a  scientific  and  impartial  study 
of  the  effects  of  drinking  alcohol,  he 
has,  we  hear,  been  inundated  with 
offers  from  public-spirited  gentlemen 
who  are  willing  to  be  experimented  upon. 

A  Philadelphia  banker  has  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  giving  a  supper- 
party  at  which  monkeys  mixed  with 
the  guests.  To  avoid  confusion  the 
guests  wore  evening  dress. 

The  parrot  whic'a  last  week  saved 
the  lives  of  a  Harringay  family  by  giving 
an  alarm  of  fire  is,  we  hear  from  a 
reliable  source,  much  amused  at  the 
fuss  which  is  being  made  over  it,  for  its 
idea  was  just  to  save  its  own  life. 
*„  * 

Replying  to  enquiries  from  fly-paper 
manufacturers,  the  American  Consul  at 
Prague  states,  "  It  is  not  possible  to 
work  up  an  extensive  trade  in  Bohemia, 
for  there  are  not  sufficient  flies  to  ox- 
terminate."  But  the  fly-paper  trade  is 
not  easily  beaten,  and  inducements,  we 


understand,  are  being  held  out  to  a 
number  of  New  York  flies,  with  their 
immense  families,  to  emigrate. 

*     :» 

•',' 

Lord  WEABDALE,  speaking  at  the 
Gas  Conference,  said  that  with  the 
increasing  use  of  gas  there  was  a 
marked  improvement  in  the  quality  of 
our  London  fogs.  We  trust  that  the 
philanthropists  concerned  will  now  turn 
their  attention  to  improving  the  quality 
of  our  rain,  of  which  many  persons 

complain.  %  4 

* 

It  is  announced  that  Wliere  the  Pain- 
bow  Ends  is  to  be  revived  on  Boxing 
Day.  One  might  almost  call  it  "  Where 
the  Rainbow  Begins  Again." 

The  reason  of  the  failure  of  such  a 
large  proportion  of  theatrical  ventures 
is  still  being  debated.  We  will  only 
remark  that  one  at  least  of  our  news- 
papers classifies  its  advertisements  of 
theatres  under  the  heading  "  Theatres," 
and  those  of  music-halls  under  the 
heading  "  Entertainments." 

*  * 

We  are  requested  to  state  that  the 
charming  Drinking  Song  sung  by  Mr. 
COURTICE  POUNDS  in  Tlie  Laughing 
Husband  is  not  published  by  Messrs. 
BOOSEY  but  by  another  well-known  firm. 

*  * 

"  Cook  (Plain),  dining  rooms,  used  to 
same,"  runs  an  advertisement  in  a 
contemporary.  Some  dining-rooms  are 
so  very  sensitive. 


400 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  12,  1913. 


THE  WOMAN  TURNS. 

(i:,!nij  the  protest  of  a  novelist's  wife  against  the  modern 
iaethod  of  reyanUmj  lore  as  a  subject  for  surgical  or 
pathological  treatment.) 

THKKI:  was  a  time  ere  middle  ago  had  chided 

Tho  aidoiirs  proper  to  tlio'  Spring  of  life 
(This  j)i>ri()d,  roughly  speaking,  coincided 

With  our  initial  stage  as  man  and  wife), 
When  yi  u  would  write  of  Love  —  its  tears  and 

laughter, 

Of  lovers'  <|uarrcls  cancelled  by  a  kiss, 
(H   \\cdding  chimes  and  then,  for  ever  alter, 
I'nmitigated  bliss. 

I  liked  it;  others  may  have  deemed  it  twaddle; 

Not  such  it  M-ciiH'ii  to  my  adoring  eyes; 
T  liked  to  see  you  as  the  hero's  model, 

'•If  the  gushing  heroine  in  disguise; 
It  plV;;sj:l  me,  when  perusing  those  romances, 
To  feel  that  our  experience,  yours  and  mine, 
Though  duly  broidered  with  creative  fancies, 
.Furnished  the  main  design. 

But  now  you  follow  fiction's  later  fashion;    - 
You  take  your  operator's  knife  and  dig 

Into  the  palpitating  heart  of  Passion, 
And  vivisect  it  like  a  guinea-pig;  ' 

As  one  who  probes  tho  more  obscure  diseases 
You  ask  yourself  (his  symptoms  closely  scanned) 

Whether  the  patient  ought  to  try_  sea-breezes 
Or  have  his  brain  trepanned. 

Calmly  you  diagnose  this  heavenly  miracle, 
Treating  it  like  a  measle  or  a  mump 

By  methods  scientific  or  empirical  — 
A  patent  plaster  or  a  stomach-pump; 

The  wine  that  glows  in  Love's  empurpled  chalices, 
Which  once  you  sketched  in  complimentary  terms, 

Is  now  subjected  to  a  sharp  analysis     . 
And  shown  to  reek  with  germs. 

No  doubt  your  attitude  's  disinterested  ; 

You  gaze'  aloof,  with  speculative  poise; 
But  women's  hearts,  you  knpw,  are  not  invested 

With  that  detachment  which  the  male  enjoys. 
Anyhow,  here  is  matter  made  for  furious 

Thinking,  and  I  who  once,  like  Love,  was  blind, 
Am  taking  notice  now,  and  getting  curious 
About  my  state  of  mind. 

At  first  1  held  the  whole  affair  outrageous, 
But  now  I  too  grow  snili'y  in  the  nose  ; 

I  find  your;  air  of  Harley  Street  contagious, 
I  emulate  your  pathologic  pose  ; 

And,  after  careful  inward  consultation, 

I  apprehend  that  what  you  hint  is  true  — 

It  must  have  been  some  mental  abeiration 
That  made  me  marry  you  ! 


"  Ou  eating  tho  sixth  oyster  Rogovoy's  teeth  came  in  contact  with 
another  hard  substance  which  he  took  from  his  mouth  and  examined 
critically.  Believing  that  ho  had  found  a  gem  he  took  thn  object  to 
a  jeweller,  who  pronounced  it  a  pear-shaped  pear  of  perfect  contour 
and  pi  iced  the  value  at  $5,000."—  Conull  Sun. 

It  seems  a  lot  for  a  psar,  even  at  this  time  of  the  year,  but 
perhaps  the  unusual  shape  made  it  valuable. 


A   MODERNISED    "PUNCH    AND   JUDY." 

I  AM  told  that  "  Punch  and  Judy"  is  losing  its  hold  on 
the  Public.  If  so,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  fault  must 
lie  in  the  drama  itself.  It  does  not  treat  the  problem  of 
marriage  with  the  insight,  tho  psychological  subtlety  which 
a  cultured  and  intellectual  audience  expects  in  those  days. 
And  its  characters  are  all  too  low  in  the  social  scale  to  be 
interesting  or  sympathetic  to  any  intelligent  spec:  :-,,•. 
However,  it  only  needs  a  little  effort  to  bring  it  into  touch 
with  modern  requirements—  and  hero  is  nnj  little  effort :  - 

ScriNK — TJtc  usual  sort  of  thing. 

Judy,  Lady  Punch  \cntcrs.  She  wears  a  wliitc  "peignoir  " 
nnd  a  boudoir  cup  iritli  lace  frill.  ILcr  face  is  of  a  remark- 
able pallor  ;  the  great  eyes  have  the.  intense  gaze' oj  one 
who  has  bom?  much,  without  perhaps  being  able  'to  say 
precisely  what] .  Not  a  taxi  anywhere  !  But  1  should  have 
betrayed  myself  if  1  had  used  the  landaulctl 

Lord  Joey  [enters.  lie,  lias  Die  battered  look  of  a  man 
about  town.  Time  has  tinned  his  top-knot  sky-blue,  but  the 
locks  on  cither  side  of  hit  ln'ow  retain  their  original  auburn]. 
Hullo!  hullo!  Lady  P. !  Where  are  you  off  to ? 

Judy  (looking  straight  before  her).  I  don't  know !  I 
don't  care  /_  So  long  as  it  isn't  Horn:'  ! 

Lord  J.  (wagging  his  head  with  reproof).  Don't  like  to 
hear  you  talkin'  like  that,  Lady  P.  Hounds  as  if  you  and 
poor  old  Punchie  bad  bad  a  row  or  somethin' — what'.' 

Judy.  He  never  u'ill  have  a  row  !  That 's  what  makes 
him  so  absolutely  unbearable !  That — and  his  perfectly 
awful  hump ! 

Lord  J.  But  I  saij,  you  know— he  had  that  bump  when 
you  married  him.  I  remember  nolicin',  when  I  was  bis  best 
man,  how  doocid  round-shquidered  be  was  gettiu' ! 

Judy.  I  was  so  young  then.  I  never  in  the  least  realised 
what  it  would  mcfin  to  bo  wedded  to  a  hump  for  the  \yliolo 
of  my  life!  Oh,  why,  u'hij  aren't  girls  told  more  about 
these  things? 

Lord  J.  Dunno,  I'm  sure,  Lady  P.  Still,,  hu.mp  or  no 
hump,  he's  a  toppin'  good  feller,  don't  you  know?  What 
I  mean- to  say  is,  there's  no  sort  of  harm  in  him  !  •  (  • 

Judy  (bitterly).  There  's  jiothing  worse  you  could  say  ! 

Lord  J.  Well,  he  seems  to  be  com  in'  this  way,  so  I  '11  sav 
good  mornin',  Lady  P.  [Exit  tactfully. 

Sir  Percy  Punch,  K.C.B.,  F.R.B.S.,  F.li.Z.S.,  -'<fc.,'  dc. 
[enters.  His  large  black_cyes  are  inela nchoiy  and  in trospcctice, 
and  the  flush  on  his  rather  prominent  nose  is  rnanifestly  due 
to  chronic,  indigestion] .  Why,  Judy,  my  love,  I  'd  no  idea  I 
should  meet  you  bore !  I  've  been  taking  the  dog  out  for 
a  run.  [Enter  Toby.]  Toby,  sit  up  and  give  your  paw  to 
the  little  Missis !  .  [Toby  obeys. 

Judy  (refusing  the  paw).  I  thought  you.  knew  I  simply 
loathe  dogs. 

Sir  P.  (forgetting  himself  for  the  moment).  Oh  !  Eooliti- 
toot !  Eootiti-toot ! 

Judy  (with  quiet  scorn).  Is  it  absolutely  necessary  to 
express  yourself  in  quite  such  language  ? 

Sir  P.  Sorry,  my  love,  sorry!  Force  of  habit!  [Enter 
Nurse  with  the  Baby.]  Aha !  Here  's  the  icklo  cockalorum  ! 
(Sir  P.  takes  the  Baby  and  offers  it  to  Judy,  who  cowers  back.) 

Judy  (hysterically).  I — I  can't..  1  can't !  It's  too  like 
you  !  And  it  isn't  eugenic  !  I  do  icish  you  'd  throw  it  away. 
Won't  you — to  please  me'} 

Sir  P.  Kcally,  my  dear,  our  son  and  heir,  you  know — r.o, 
[  must  draw  the  lino  at  that !  (handing  Baby  to  Nurse). 
There,  take  Master  Punch  home  and  keep  him  well  wrapped 
up.  (As  Nurse  goes  off  with  Baby)  Judy,  my  darling,  1  'm 
afraid  you  're  a  little  upset  about  something  or  other? 

Judy  (breaking  out).  If  you  must  know,  I  'm  sick  of  you 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHABTVABL— Novjnuwi    12,   1913. 


ULSTER. 
CONVERSAZIONE 


THE    HOME    EULE    MAZE. 

MM.  ASQUITH.  "EXCUSE    ME,    SIR,    BUT   ARE    YOU    TRYING    TO    GET    IN   OR   OUT?" 
MR.  BONAB  LAW.  "JUST    WHAT    I    WAS    GOING    TO   ASK    YOU,   SIR." 


NOVEMBER  12,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


403 


AT    THE    MOTOR    SHOW. 

Dear  Old  Lady  (after  an  exlMiistive  explanation  of  tlie  engine).  "AKD  KOW  TELL  ME,  WHEBE  DO  TOD  LIGHT  THE  FIBE?" 


and  the  Baby  and  Toby,  and  I  simply  can't  stand  it  any 
longer. 

Sir  P.  Why,  rootiti — I  mean,  tut-tut.  What  on  earth 
have  I  done  ? 

Judy.  You  're  so  appallingly  affectionate,  so  convention- 
ally domesticated  and  all  that.  It 's  too  sickening. 

Sir  P.  (sadly).  Tell  me,  Judy,  is  there  no  way — none — by 
which  I  might  regain  your  affection  ? 

Judy  (dreamily).  If  I  could  see  you  reckless,  lawless, 
riotous,  triumphing  rough-shod  over  all  opposition,  I  miyht 
— but  no,  you  will  never  be  like  that — never,  never. 

Beadle  (enters  with  thick  stick).  Beg  pawdon,  Sir  Percy, 
but  might  this  'ere  belong  to  you  ? 

Judy  (excited).  Say  it  does  !  And  hit  him  on  the  head 
with  it !  Or  hit  me  I  Anything  that  will  make  me  respect 
you  once  more. 

Sir  P.  (to  the  Beadle,  after  inspection).  No,  it 's  not  my 
stick,  my  man.  I  never  carry  a  cudgel.  You  'd  better  take 
it  to  the  Lost  Property  Office  at  Scotland  Yard. 

[Exit  Beadle,  as  Jack  Ketch  enters  carrying  patent 

gibbet. 

Jack  K.  'Sense  me,  Sir  Percy,  but  is  this  anythink  in 
your  line  ?  Little  apparatus  of  me  own.  Wonnerful  simple. 
I  jest  puts  me  'ed  through  this  'ere  noose  (he  does  so),  and 
all  you  'ave  to  do  is  to  give  a  tug  to  this  'ere  pulley,  and  I'm 
'ung  proper,  /  am  ! 

Judy  (feverishly).  Oh,  why  don't  you  hang  him  ?  You 
would  if  you  were  half  a  Punch  I 

Sir   P.   (meditatively).    H'm  I    (To    Jack    Ketch)    Your 


invention  seems  ingenious.     I  should  advise  you  to  show 
it  to  the  HOME  SECBETAKY. 

Judy  (passionately,  as  Jack  Ketch  departs).  That  settles 
it.  I  will  no  longer  be  dependent  on  you.  I  will  live  my 
own  life. 

Sir  P.  May  I  remind  you,  my  love,  that  our  resources 
entirely  depend  on  the  pennies  my  agent  collects  in  a  bag 
from  the  populace?  If  you  decline  to  share  that  income,  I 
don't  quite  see  what  you  are  going  to  live  your  own  life  on. 

Judy.  I  can  start  a  little  show  of  my  own,  I  suppose  ? 

Sir  P.  You  could  do  that,  of  course,  but — rootiti-toot — 
1  should  say,  ahem — I  rather  doubt  if  you  'd  be  much  of  a 
draw  without  me. 

Judy.  Perhaps.  The  world  is  very  hard  on  us  women. 
But  I  don't  care ;  I  shall  find  an  opening  in  spite  of  you. 

Sir  P.  I  should  rather  like  to  know  where. 
Enter  a  large  Crocodile. 

Judy  (driven  to  desperation).  Where?  .  .  .  Why,  here  I 
(Throws  herself  into  Crocodile's  jaws  and  disappears.) 

Sir  P.  (with  mild  concern).  What  a  pity — what  a  pity — 
what  a  pity ! 

Here  ends  the  drama,  which  is  entirely  at  the  service  of 
any  travelling  showman  who  has  enterprise  enough  to 
produce  it.  But  I  know  what  managers  are.  F.  A. 


"  During  the  winter  months  a  lady  and  her  husband  offer  to  take 
charge  of  a  house  in  return  for  a  small  salary  and  board." 

Advt.  in  "  Lady." 
Two  more  world's  workers. 


404 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  12,  1913. 


AN  OUTBURST. 
HAD  been  to  the  Rutland  Gallery 


I  give  the  able-bodied  custodian  six- 
pence for  being  in  the  same  room  in 
which  my  hat  and  stick  repose.  That 


to  see  the  Yiddish  pictures.    As  I  went 'is  all  they  do.     They  don't  brush  my 


in,  an  oflicial  took  my  stick  from  me 
and  gave  me  a  number  for  it. 


hat  or  do  anything  for  me.      I  can't 
give  them  nothing,  much  as  I  should 


HIST!    WE   ARE    OBSERVED! 

(Sityyested  by  some  recent  incidents  in 


theatrical  competition.) 
As  dusk  fell,  the  streets   about 


the 


Can't  I  keep  it?"  I  said,  for  I  like  like  to,  but  they  can  easily  do  nothing 


its  support. 

He  pointed  to  a  notice  saying  that 
tho  relinquishment  of  sticks  and  um- 
brellas was  compulsory,  and  I  gave  it 
up.  1  suppose  that  tho  idea  was  that 


beleaguered  building  began  to  assume 
an    even    more    deserted    appearance. 


in  return.      And  now  you  Haunt  this !  Hero  and  there,  sinister  figures  lurked 
saucer  of  money  at  me  to  suggest  that ,  in  tho  shadows  or  crept  furtively  from 

T          •»  ii  Tiriir*  -i  .      i    •  i  •  i  *'_  - 


I   should   pay   you.     Well,  1  'in   done 
with  it." 
He  grew  restive,  as  indeed  he  might, 


I  might  he  a  Boffragist,  and  desire  to 
prove  my  fitness  for  exercising  the 
vote  by  pushing  my  ferrule  through  I  were  a  sensibly  run  country,  which  it 


but  kept  silent. 

"  Now  look   here," 


I   said,  "if  this 


a  masterpiece.     Anyway,  I  gave  it  up  I  is  not,  but  a  country  of  stupid  tolerant 


without  another  worti. 

Half  an  hour  later  I 
came  out  and,  handing 
in  tho  number,  I  received 
the  stick.  On  the 
counter  was  a  saucer  full 
of  pennies ;  but  this  did 
not  worry  me.  I  took 
my  stick  and  was  going 
out  when  the  expression 
of  mortification  and  con- 
tempt on  the  custodian's 
face  caught  my  eye. 

I  went  back.    "  Let 's 
have  this  out,"   I  said. 
"  You  think  me  dirt  for 
not  giving  you  a  tip." 
Ho  denied  it. 
"Oh,  yes,  you  do,"  I 
said.     "I    know.      But 
why  should  you?  " 

"  Most  gentlemen  give 
something,"  be  said. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  but 
why  should  they  ?   Have 
you  ever  asked  yourself 
that?      Here    am    I,   a 
not  too  robust  man  after 
influenza,  but  you  took 
my  stick  away.    I  would 
much    rather   havo   had 
it  with   me.     I  am  muc 
pictures  to  injure  them,  even  when  I 
sea  a  false  ascription,  as  I  have  done 
here  more  than  once.    And  then,  having 
taken  my  stick  against   my  will,  you 
ask  me  to  pay  you  rent  for  it.      Is  that 
reasonable  ?  " 

He  bad  nothing  to  say. 
"  Are  you  paid  any  wages  ?  "  I  asked. 
He  admitted  that  he  was. 
"And  you   want  to   be  paid  twice 
over?"   I    said.     "Is  that   quite  the 
game?" 

Again  ho  bad  nothing  to  say. 
"  I  am  getting  tired  of  it,"  I  said. 
"Paying  money  for  something  is  no 
great  lark,  but  paying  money  for  noth- 
ing is  beyond  my  endurance.  Every 
day  I  have  lunch  at  a  restaurant  where 
there  are  no  hat-pegs  inside.  It  follows 
therefore  that  I  must  leave  my  hat  and 
stick  in  the  cloak-room,  and  every  day 


i  sheep,  a  great  strong  fellow  like  you 


one  hiding  place  to  another.  Every 
few  moments  the  orange  glare  of  a 
searchlight  from  some  neighbouring 
lower  swept  the  roadway  from  end  to 


vailed. 


A  GOOD  ADDRESS. 
To  Harold  Binks,  Esq., 

"  The  Grange,"  Wimpleton  Park,  Surrey. 
DEAR  Sin,— We  beg  to  call  your  attention  to  the  accompanying  catalogue 

i  linen  lief,  rtr  la.t.nof.   nrin f ««  •Ff.jil-. :.,.,,    i—    i: : c _T ft 


end. 

Near   tho    threatened   citadel    itself 
silence,  oppressive   and   ominous,  pre- 
"":l"'1      The  long  blank  wall,   broken 
only    by    a    small    anc 
secret-looking  door,  ovei 
which  flickered  a  solitary 
lamp,  exposed   its   taci- 
j  turn  surface  to  the  world 
jealous   guardian  of  the 
|  lyysteries  within.      Bui 
somewhere  out  of  sight 
i  was    unwinking    watch- 
fulness ;     behind     every 
loop-hole  and  embrasure 
men    stood    armed    and 
waiting,    as     they    had 
waited   night    after 
night.  ... 

And  now,  the  hour 
was  at  band.  Silently, 
out  of  the  brooding 
shadows,  strange  and 
shrouded  forms  took 
shape,  moved,  and 
passed.  Whispered  chal- 
lenges were  heard,  and 
countersigns.  One  by 
one  the  muffled  figures 


and  price  list  of  latest  winter  fashions  in  liveries  for  chauffeurs,  grooms',  foot- 


men,  etc. ;   also  if  your  gardeners  and  gamekeepers  have  not  yet  ordered  thoir 
winter  clothing  we  havo  a  new  stock  of  tweeds,  etc. 
Assuring  you  cf  our  best  attention,  etc.,  etc. 


reached    in    safety    the 
little  door 


f°,nd  °rf  |would  never  be  in  a  position  like  this 
at  all.  Stick  and  umbrella  guarding 
would  be  given  to  the  feeble  and  other- 
wise incapable— to  hunchbacks  and  so 
forth.  To  hand  them  a  penny  or  so 
for  doing  nothing  would  not  be  so  de- 
grading. But  you—  "  and  I  turned 
to  go  in  disgust. 

It  was  then  that  be  spoke.  "  Look 
here,  guvnor,"  ho  said,  "  if  you  're  too 
jolly  mean  to  give  a  man  twopence 
why  don't  you  say  so?  What's  the 

good  of  delivering  a  lecture  on  it  ?  " 

which  was  exactly  the  kind  of  retort  I 
expected. 

But  none  the  less  I  was,  as  usual,  right. 

Commercial  Candour. 
From  a  Bombay  catalogue  : — 
"  Rubber  Stamps.      Cheapest  and    Fine 
(Possible.) " 

But  not  likely. 


in  the  wall, 
and,  after  breathless 
intervals  of   scrutiny, 
- '  were  admitted  within  tho 
building  that  waited  for  their  coming. 
Who   were  they?      Conspirators  who 
met  to   hatch   some   foul  plot   behind 


secret    walls  ? 
hope    to    save 


these     menacing     and 

•Leaders    of    a    forlorn 

the  city  from   some  alien  conqueror  V 

No,  they  were  actors  on  their  way  to 

attend  a  rehearsal  of  the  great  elevator 

scene  in  the  next  Musical  Eevue. 


"Yonag    German    gentleman    decives    lo 
cchaug  lessong  in  English  gimny  in  return 
lessons  in  Spanish  conversacion  andgramman." 
Advt.  in  "  Antofagasta  Mercurio." 

He  bad  much  better  stick  to  Esperanto. 


A    hint    from    "  Garden    Work    for 
Amateurs  "  : — • 

"If  there  are  slugs  in  tho  garden  wait  till 
tho  end  of  March  bafore  planting  them  out." 

They  are  very  patient  little  fellows. 


NOVEHBKB  12,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  TUB  LONDON  CHARIVARI.  405 


SOCIAL    DISTINCTIONS. 

Golfer.    "AXYONE  OUT  AHEAD  OP  US,   CADDIE?" 

Caddie.  "YESSUB — A  GEXXELMAX  WIP  A  CADDIE,  am  A  MAN  CAnnrni'  FOB  'ISSELF.' 


L'ALLEGRO    IN    1913. 

(By  a  whole-hearted  admirer  of  the  latest 

phase  in  our  national  drama.) 
HENCE,  ordinary  Folly, 

Of  Dionysus  born  and  Dauced  Rot ! 

Be  thou  presented  not 
Even  by  EDW-UD-S  (GEOROE)  and 

•   FB-HM-N  (CHOLLY)  ; 
Seek  out  some  rustic  stage 

Where  bumpkins  still  admire  the 
good  old  wheeze 

And  the  sad  valses  please ; 

There  for  the  ebon  pit   and  high- 
browed  gods, 

Who  understand  thy  nods, 
Reserve  these  pranks  that  erst  were 

London's  rage. 

But  come,  thou  Nymph  of  the  inept, 
In  Paris  a  .Revile  yclept 
(By  us  translated  a  Review), 
Whom  Piffle,  if  the  tale  be  true, 
With  Bosh  and  several  children  more 
To  undiluted  Bunkum  bore  ; 
Or  whether  (this  perhaps  is  right) 
The  soul  of  Bowery,  taking  flight, 
With  coy  Lutetia  carried  on 
In  furnished  rooms  near  Paddington, 
Chucked  her  chin,  and  cried,  "Ar  Har!" 
And,  Jinked  with  her  by  Registrar, 
Bequeathed  us  thee,  an  offspring  fair, 
Vulgarity  beyond  compare. 


Haste  theo,  Honey,  don't  forget 
Tights  and  teeth,  a  brand-new  set, 
Jokes  in  far  from  dubious  taste, 
And  gowns  not  all  too  straitly  laced, 
Fashioned  by  what  creators  bold 
The  programme    hath  not    left    half- 

told. 

Cast  your  bridge  across  the  stalls 
And  weave  -no  plot,  because  that  palls. 
Come,  and  loose  from  glittering  fang 
All  the  latest  New  York  slang, 
And,  hugging  closely,  lead  with  thee 
Turkey  Trot  and  Tango  Tea ; 
And,  if  these  joys  I  rightly  class, 
Oh  give  me  a  perpetual  pass 
To  love  thee  and  to  live  with  thee 
And  evermore  thy  patron  be ; 
To  hear  the  Yankee  accent  rise 
That  tears  the  canvas  in  the  "  flies," 
And  see  the  girls  display  their  charms, 
Not  much  of  wit,  but  logs  and  arms ; 
Whilst  the  coon,  with  lively  din 
And  well-pied  pants,  comes  prancing 

in. 

Then  to  the  spicy  nut-made  chaff 
And  chunks  of  cinematograph, 
And  turns  from  music-halls,  but  worse, 
And  notes  of  unmelodious  verse, 
Such  as,  I  ween,  had  raised  the  roots 
Of  tufted  elms  and  scared  the  brutes ; 
And  Pluto^  self,  if  he  had  heard 
So  harsh  laments  by  Orpheus  stirred, 


Had  changed  his  purpose  and  set  froo 
For  comfort's  sake  Eurydico. 
These  things  if  thou  canst  surely  do, 
Enchant  mo  still,  sublime  Review. 
EVOB. 

IN    A    GOOD    CAUSE. 

LAST  year  Mr.  Punch  published  an 
appeal  from  The  Children's  White  Cross 
League  on  behalf  of  the  sufferers  from 
the  London  Dock  Strike.  Another 
appeal  now  reaches  him  from  the  same 
quarter;  and  this  time  it  is  for  the 
starving  women  and  children  of  Dublin 
that  Mr.  Punch's  readers  are  asked  to 
open  their  generous  purses.  He  ventures 
to  recall  the  legend  that  runs  beneath 
his  cartoon  in  which  he  asked  help  for 
the  wives  and  children  of  the  London 
Dock  Strikers:  "Come,  Madam,"  be 
there  says  to  Charity,  "  you  will  not 
ask  where  the  blame  lies :  you  will 
only  ask  how  best  you  can  help." 

Gifts  should  be  sent  to  the  Hon. 
Treasurer  of  The  Children's  White 
Cross  League,  3,  Adelphi  Terrace,  W.C. 


"  Ousting  the  Foreigners  from  onr  Kitchens. 
A  L.C.C.  fchool  for  turning  out  British  Chefs." 
Daily  Graphic. 

It  really  seems  to  be  for  turning  out 
foreign  chefs. 


on 


THE   LONDON   CHAKIVAHr. 


12,  1913. 


THE    FINANCIER. 

IT  is  nearly  l\vo  yours  ago  that  1 
began  speculating  in  West  African 
mines.  You  may  remember  what  a 


ago,  I  left  the   story  of   my  City  life. 

A  good  deal  has  happened  since  then; 

as  a  result  of  which  I  am  once  more 

eagerly  watching  the  price  of  Jaguars. 
A  month  or  two  after  I  had  written 

stir  my  entry  into  the  financial  world  -  about  them  Jaguars  began  to  go  down, 
created:  how  Sir  Isaac  Isaacstein  -  They  did  it  (as  they  have  done  evory- 
went  mad  and  shot  himself;  how  Sir  thing  since  1  have  known  them) 
Samuel  Sainuelstein  went  mad  and  stupidly.  If  they  had  dropped  in  a 
shot,  hi-i  typist;  and  how  Sir  Moses  single  night  to  '?.  I  should  at  least 
went  mad  and  shot  his  type-  ;  have;  had  my  thrill.  I  should  have 

suffered  in  a  single  night  the  loss  of] 


writer,  permanently  damaging  the  letter 
••  s.  '  There  \\a*  panic  in  the  City  on 
that  February  day  in  1912  when  I 
;  bought  Jaguars  and  set  the  market 
rocking. 

I  bought  Jaguars  parllv  for  the  rise 


It  was  really  a  shock  to  me.  When 
I  had  asked  Andrew  to  mention  Jaguars 
to  his  broker  it  was  solely  in  the  hope 
of  hearing  some  humorous  City  com- 
ment on  their  futility— one  of  those  crisp 
jests  for  which  the  Stock  Exchange  is 
famous.  I  had  no  idea  that  his  broker 
might  like  to  buy  them  from  me. 

I  wired  back  :  "  Sell  fifty,  quick." 

Next  day  he  told  me  he  had  sold  them. 

"  That's  all  right,"  1  said  cheerfully: 
"  they 're  his.  He  can  watch  them  »o 


some  pounds,  and  I  could  have  borne  it  ]  up  and   down.     When   do   I   get   my 


dramatically;  either  with  the  sternness 
of  the  silent  Saxon,  or  else  with  the. 
volubility  of  the  volatile, — 1  can't  think 
of  anybody  beginning  with  a  "  V."  But, 


and  partly  for  the  thrill.  In  describing  alas!  Jaguars  never  dropped  at  all.  They 
my  speculation  to  you  eighteen  months  j  subsided.  They  subsided  slowly  back 
ago  I  find  that  1  dwelt  chiefly  on  the  :  to  1 — so  slowly  that  you  could  hardly 


thrill  part;  I  alleged  that  I  wanted  to 
see  them  go  up  and  down.  It  would 
have  been  more  accurate  to  have  said 
that  I  wanted  to  see  them  go  up.  It- 
was  because  1  was  sure  they  were 
going  up  that,- with  the  united  support 
of  my  solicitor,  my  stockbroker,  my 
land  agent,  my  doctor,  my  architect 
and  my  vicar  (most  of  them  hired  for 
the  occasion),  I  bought  fifty  shares  in 
the  Jaguar  mine  of  West  Africa. 

When  I  bought  Jaguars  they  were 
at  1 — 1T\.  This  means  that —  -  No, 
on  second  thoughts  I  won't.  There 
was  a  time  when,  in  the  pride  of  my 
new  knowledge,  I  should 'have  insisted 
on  explaining  to  you  what  it  meant, 
but  I  am  getting  blase' now;  besides, 
you  probably  know.  It  is  enough  that 


observe  them  going.    A  week  later  they 
were   "J,   which,  of  course,   is  practi- 


cally the  same  as  1. 

wards    they    were 

debatable'  point  whether  that  is  less  or 


:i  i 

:i  •.: ' 


A  month 
and     it 


twenty-five  pounds  ?  "  To  save  twenty- 
five  pounds  from  the  wreck  was  won- 
derful. 

"  Not  for  a  month  ;  and  of  course  you 
don't  deliver  the  shares  till  then." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  '  deliver  the 
shares'?"  I  asked  in  alarm.  "I  haven't 
got  the  gold  mine  here ;  it 's  in  Africa 
or  soinowhere.  Must  I  go  out  and — 


after-  |      "  But   you  've   got   a    certificate   for 


is    a 


more  than 


Anyhow  by  the  time 


I  had  worked  it  out  and  discovered  that 
it  was. slightly  less,  they JA ere  at  J-i, 
and  one  had  the  same  trouble  all  over 
again.  At-J.J-  I  left  them  for  a  time; 


them." 

My  heart  sank. 

"Havo  I?"  I  whispered.  "Good 
lord,  I  wonder  where  it  is." 

I  went  home  and  looked.  ]  looked 
for  two  days ;  I  searched  drawers  and 
desks  and  letter-books  and  safes  and 


and   when  I    next  read   the-  financial  j  ice-tanks   and   trouser-presses  —  every 
column  they  were  at    ]  £,-  -which   still  place  in  which  a  certificate  might  hide. 


•J  JO' 

seemed  to  be  fairly  near  to  1.  ^  And 
even  when  at"  last,  after  many  months, 
I  found  them  down  to  £  I  was  not 
seriously  alarmed,  but  felt  that  it  was 
due  to  some  little  local  trouble  (as  that 
the  manager  had  fallen  down  the  main 
shaft  and  was  preventing  the  gold 


financial  adviser  that  by  the  end  of  the 
month  they  would  be  up  to  2.  In  that 
case  I  should  have  made  rather  more 
than  forty  pounds  in  a  few  days, 


bought  them,  and  bought  them  on  <  being  shot  out  properly)  and  that,  when 
the  distinct   understanding    from   my  j  the    obstruction    had    been    removed, 

Jaguars  would  go  up  to  1  again. 

But  they  didn't.  They  continued  to 
subside.  When  they  had.  subsided  to 

.    -  .,   ,   J  I  woke  up.     My  dream  of  financial 

simply  by  assembling  together  my  glory  was  over.  I  had  lost  my  money 
solicitor,  stockbroker,  land-agent,  etc.,  land  my  faith  in  the  City;  well,  let 
etc.,  in  London,  and  without  going  to  them  go.  With  an  effort  I  washed 

\\     nr.i-  \   f..t _i  _ll  t  -1  »        1  T  - 

Jaguars  out  of  my  mind.  Hence- 
forward they  were  nothing  to  me. 

And  then,  months  after,  Andrew 
came  on  the  scene.  At  lunch  one  day 
he  happened  to  mention  that  he  had 
been  talking  to  his  broker. 

"Do  you  often  talk  to  your  broker?" 
T  asked  in  admiration.  It  sounded  so 


at    all.       A    wonderful 


West    Africa 
thought. 

At  the  end  of  a  month  Jaguars  were 
steady  at  lr'H;  and  I  had  received 
a  report  from  the  mine  to  the  effect 
that  down  below  they  were  simply 
hacking  gold  out  as  fast  as  they  could 

hack,   and   up   at   the   top    were  very   .  „_ 

busy  rinsing  and  washing  and  sponging  !  magnificent. 

n  TIM      /Li'iri  tti-r     if         'TM*  ji.     «   f.,.t-    .        __ii_      j  i  . .  f^  f. 


It  was  no  good.  1  went  back  to 
Andrew.  I  was  calm. 

"About  these  Jaguars, "I  said  casually. 
"  I  don't  quite  understand  my  position. 
What  have  I  promised  to  do?  And  can 
they  put  me  in  prison  if  I  don't  do  it?" 

"  You  've  promised  to  sell  50  Jaguars 
to  a  man  called  Stevens  hv  the  middle 
of  next  month.  That 's  all." 

"  I  see,"  I  said,  and  I  went  home 
again. 

And  I  suppose  you  see  too.  I  've 
got  to  sell  fifty  Jaguars  to  a  man  called 
Stevens  by  the  middle  of  next  month. 
Although  I  really  have  fifty  fully 
own,  there's 


matured    ones    of 


my 


and   drying  it.     The 
situation   was   the 
London    very    steady 


next  month  the 
same  ;   Jaguars   in 


at 


Jaguar 


_    _lo,   „      ..... 

diggers  in  West  Africa  very  "steady  at 
gold-digging.  And  at  the  end  of  the 
third  month  I  realised  not  only  that  I 
was  not  going  to  have  any  thrills  at 
all,  hut  (even  worse)  that  "l  was  not 
?oing  to  make  any  money  at  all.  I 
iiad  been  deceived. 

That   was   where,  eighteen   months 


'  Often." 


haven't  got  a  broker  to  talk  to.    be  down  to 


nothing  to  prove  it,  and  they  are  so 
suspicious  in  the  City  that  they  w^ill 
never  take  my  bare  word.  So  I  shall 
have  to  buy  fifty  new  Jaguars  for  this 
man  called  Stevens — and  buy  them  by 
the  middle  of  next  month. 

And  this  is  why  I  am  still  eagerly 
watching  the  price  of  Jaguars.  Yester- 
day they  were  §.  I  am  hoping  that 
by  the  middle  cf  next  month  they  will 


i  again.    But  I  find  it  difli- 


.  .  - 

When  you  next  chat  to  yours,  I  wish   cult  to  remember  sometimes  which  wav 
you  d  lead  the  conversation  round  to   I  want  them  to  go.    This  afternoon,  for 
Jaguars  and  see  what  ho  says." 
"  Why,  have  you  got  some  ?  " 
"  Yes,  but  they  're  no  good.     Have  a 
'  " 


cigarette,  won't  you? 


Next 


morning  to  my  amazement  I 


got  a  telegram  from  Andrew.  "  Can 
get  you  ten  shillings  for  Jaguars.  Wire 
if  you  will  sell,  and  how  many." 


instance,  when  1  saw  they  had  risen  to 
! ,';  I  was  quite  excited  for  a  moment ; 
I  went  out  and  bought  some  cigars  on 
the  strength  of  it.  Then  I  remembered; 
and  I  came  home  and  almost  decided  to 
sell  the  pianola.  It  is  very  confusing. 
You  must  see  how  very  confusing  it  is.. 

A.  A.  M. 


NOVEMBER  12,  1913.]  PUN* 'IF,    OR    T1IK    LONDON    CHA  1!  I  V  A  I!  F. 


107 


Candid  Hostess  (on  seeinj  lier  ncphnc's  fluid*  for  tlu  first  time).  "I  SEVER  SHOULD  HAVF.  KNOWN  YOU  HOM  voca  PHOiOGBArii. 

OIE  TOLD  MB  YOU   WRRE   SQ   PRETTY." 

Itetjtjie's  Fiancte.  "No,  I'M  NOT  PBKTTY,  so  I  HAVE  TO  THY  AND  BE  NICS,  AND  IT'S  SUCH  A  BORE.    HAVE  YOU  EVEB  TSI::D?' 

question,  with  such  a  stimulating  series 
of  lectures,  should  produce  results  cal- 
culated to  satisfy  tho  most  exuding 
filiusfamilias. 


A  SCHOOL  FOR  FATHERS. 

A  SUGGESTION  was  thrown  out  the 
other  day  at  the  Hull  Congress  for 
Women  Workers  that  training  for 
parentage  was  badly  needed,  and  that, 
side  by  side  with  schools  for  mothers, 
there  should  bo  similar  institutions  for 
their  husbands,  to  induce  the  latter  to 
pay  more  attention  to  tho  development 
of  the  coming  race.  We  are  happy  to 
say  that  this  project  has  already  been 
anticipated,  as  there  exists  a  flourishing 
academy  for  male  parents  over  at 
Child's  Hill,  where  the  middle-aged  idea 
is  taught  toshoot  by  youthful  professors. 
A  n'iuico  at  the  following  syllabus  of 
Lectures  for  the  Winter  Session  should 
reassure  any  infant  who  may  be  anxi- 
ous about  the  correct  upbringing  of  his 
progenitor. 

PATEICULATION  COURSE. 
"The  Dawn   of    Intelligence"  —  or 
"  Making  Him  Sit  Up  and  Take  Notice 
at  3  A.M.,''  with  Gramophone  Demon- 
stration by  Junior  Members  of  the  Stall. 


"  The  Vatergarten" —  Object-lessons 
in  Nature  Study  for  Budding  Owners 
of  Nurseries. 

"Aids  to  Conversation,"  or  Practice 
in  the  Three  R's — rippinij,  rotten,  and 
righto. 

"Tact  and  Back-Chat,"  or  the  Art  of 
Deference  to  the  Opinions  of  a  Twelve- 
year-old — A  series  of  Dialogues  allowing 
the  last-word-but-one  to  the  Grown-up. 

"  Tho  Problem  of  the  Only  Father," 
or  "  How  a  Spoilt  Parent  Should  Re- 
strain his  Whims." 

"  Pater  Pan,  or  the  Father  who 
Wouldn't  Grow  Up." 

"  The  Stern  Papa,  his  Bank  Balance, 
his  Solemn  Blessing,  and  his  deplorable 
Habit  of  Disinheriting — a  Warning  ta 
Heavy  Fatheis,"  illustrated  by  the 
Cinematograph. 

"The  Art  of  being  a  Super-dad," 
showing  how  a  Father  should  recognise 
himself  as  a  Superfluity  in  the  View  of 
the  Rising  Generation. 

Wo  think  that  a  term's  attendance, 
even  as  day-parents,  at  the  Academy  in 


From  an  account  of  a  speech  in  'I  lie 
Fife  Herald : 

"Speaking  of  the  gentleman  whose  death 
he  had  to  propose,  ho  knew  that  ho  hud  been 
regarded  in  Dundee  as  one  of  the  most  popular 
men  in  that  city,  a  man  who  had  become 
popular  in  tho  execution  of  his  duty." 

And  this  is  his  reward ! 

"  At  Manchester,  in  the  professional  handi- 
cap, Harry  Lambert  was  in  brilliant  form, 
and  after  accounting  for  T.tthain,  who  con- 
coded  15,  defeated  Bisque  in  tho  final,  6—1, 
6—3,  5-7,  6—3." 

Johnnie  ilunj  Kreniiig  Chronicle. 

Wait    till   he    meets    Dedans    in    the 
challenge  round. 

"  Tho  Lord  Mayor  of  London  remandul  the 
accused,  and  assisted  tho  wife  out  of  the  poor 
box." — Lirei'imal  Kruiiny  Kij.re  S. 

The  Lout  Mtii/or  (alicays  polite).  Take 
my  arm,  madam. 


408 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  12,  1913. 


INVENTION    FOR    ATTRACTING    THE    NOTICE    OF    POST-OFFICE^  LADIES. 

{PATENT  APPLIED  FOB.) 


MR.  WALKER-PIONEER. 

FULL  many  a  golden  bard  has  sung 
How  EALEIGH  brought  the  weed 

That  cheers  (and  sometimes  burns  tin 

tongue), 
And  served  a  world- wide  need ; 

But  not  a  star  that  ever  shone 

Has  cast  one  tiny  ray  upon 

Our  Mr.  WALKER  (name  of  JOHN), 
And  his  colossal  deed. 

For,  grandly  though  Sir  WALTER  strove 

And  matchless  though  his  might, 
The  fire  he  kindled  never  throve, 

Lacking  the  fuller  light  ; 
His  best  disciple  could  but  feel 
A  need  beyond  the  flint  and  steel : 
And  WALKER  'twas  that  rose  to  heal 
This  lamentable  plight. 

Yes,  it  was  he  whose  ardent  will 

Came  nobly  to  the  scratch  ; 
He  whose  indomitable  skill 

Evolved,  at  length,  the  match  ; 
And,  as  the  goodly  tidings  spread, 
Each  earnest  smoker  rose  and  said, 
"  Blessings  on  Mr.  WALKER'S  head'; 
This  is  indeed  a  catch." 

And  soon,  with  that  great  victory  won 

For  each  that  smoked  before 
There  bloomed,  like  flowers  beneath  the 

sun, 

Ten  thousand,  ay,  and  more, 
Who.  revelling  in  the  greater  ease 
Of  matches,  not  to  say  fuzees, 
Could  light  up  even  in  a  breeze  • 
That  was  the  greatest  score. 


And  we,  from  that  surpassing  start, 

Have  risen  to  things  supreme ; 
For,  with  these  growing  numbers,  Ar 

Took  Mixture  for  her  theme, 
And,  greatly  toiling,  in  the  end 
Arose  to  many  a  perfect  blend, 
The  least  of  which  would  far  transcenc 
Stout  EALEIGH'S  wildest  dream. 

Then  let  us,  in  these  happy  days, 

Brood  gratefully  hereon, 
And,  as  we  strike  the  careless  blaze, 

Eeflect  on  him  who  's  gone  ; 
Eecall  to  whom  we  owe  the  flaire, 
And,  in  a  tumult  of  acclaim, 
Uplift  the  mild  but  honoured  naino 

Of  Mr.  WALKER  (JOHN). 

DuM-Dujr. 

HIEROGLYPHIC   FICTION. 

THERE  are  signs  that  the  increasing 
tendency  of  people  to  bring  actions  for 

lamages  because  their  quite   ordinary 

names  have  been  made  use  of  in  novels 

or  plays  is  getting  on  publishers'  nerves. 

Something  will  have  to  be  done  about 

t,  and  the  only  absolutely  safe  course 

s  to  dispense  with  names  altogether, 
burely  our  halfpenny  press  could  set 

he  example,  in  this  way  :— 

OUR  FEDILLETOX. 

"THE  DAY  AFTER  TO-MORROW." 
BY  CYRUS  PIFFELHEIMEH. 

(Special  Notice.— All  the  characters 
ppeanng  in  this  remarkable  story  are 
ntirely  unreal  and  not  one  of  the  inci- 


dents or  situations  described  therein  is 
taken  from  life.) 

You  can  commence   this   absorbing 
serial  at  any  time. 

Start  to-day  and  yet  it  over. 
This  will  help  you  : — 

SYNOPSIS 

of   the   chief   actors   in    this    thrillin<r 
romance : — 

•%•  The  All  Star  Heroine. 

0  A  retired  Alderman,  her  father. 

t    A  rising  young  airman,  in  love 
with  •}£•  but  suspected  of  murdering 

££  A  Multi-millionaire  found    dead 
in  Chapter  II.  by 

•  A  super-detective. 

?   A   mysterious    adventuress   with 
ieveral  pasts  who  plots  with 

!    An  unspeakable  bounder,  to  ruin  7. 
"^P  A  nutty  young  nobleman  in  love 
with  -X-,  ?,  and 

V  A   musical  comedy   actress  who 
•esides  with 

A  Her  mother. 
n  A  chauffeur. 

1  A  lift-boy. 


"On  Saturday  last  an  interesting  wedding 
was   solemnized   in   the   parish    church     the 

ontending  parties   being  Charles  and 

Vmeha ." 

A  bad  beginning. 


PUNCH,   OE  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— NOVEMHKK  12,  1913. 


THE    SORROWS    OF    HUERTA. 

MEXICAN  PBESIDENT.  "  WHAT    HAVE    WE    HERE  ? " 

AMERICAN  EAGLE.  "THAT,    SIR.    IS    ANOTHER    STRONGLY- WORDED    REMONSTRANCE." 

MEXICAN  PRESIDENT.  "NO  USE   TOR   IT.     I   HOPED   IT  WAS   GOING   TO   BE   AN   ULTIMATUM." 

[It  is  anticipated  that  a  definite  threat  of  armed  intervention  on  the  part  of  the  United  States  would  determine  all  factions  in 
J      Mexico  to  unite  in  the  cojimon  cause  of  national  independence.] 


NOVKMHKU  ia,  191D.1  PUNCH,    Oil   Till-:    LONDON    MIAIIIVAKI.  411 


s 

1 


Jle.  "  TKI.L  ME,  \YHY  ABE  you  so  DISTANT  TO-DAY?    ONLY  YESTERDAY  is  THIS  VKBY  TLACI:  WE  WERK  GETTINI;  ox  HO  xvi  1.1..' 
,*>/;?.  "On!    THAT  I    THAT  WAS  FOB  oun  CINEMATOGRAPH.    DIDN'T  THEY  TKLL  YOU?" 


SAMUEL    THE    SUPERCILIOUS. 

SAMUEL  lives  at  the  top  of  Eegent 
Street,  closo  to  a  rather  select  post 
office.  The  first  call  I  made  upon  him 
was  at  two  in  the  morning.  "  Samuel, 
old  thing,"  said  I,  "give  us  a  stamp." 

It  is  worth  while  remarking  that,  had 
Samuel  heen  a  coaipany  promoter  or 
a  performing  elephant,  of  neither  of 
whom  is  it  reasonable  to  ask  a  postage 
stamp  at  two  in  the  morning,  it  would 
still  have  heen  discourteous  on  his  part 
to  throw  my  penny  on  the  pavement. 
As  I  took  pains  to  point  out  to  him,  he 
was  there  for  the  very  business  on 
which  I  approached  him.  Stamps 
were  v^hat  he  had  to  sell,  and  for  two 
pins  I  would  take  his  number.  I  con- 
cluded with  the  remark,  possibly  ill- 
advised,  that  he  was  a  Jaek-in-uniform. 

"  Bent  or  battered  coins,"  said 
Samuel,  "  will  not  be  accepted."  I 
picked  my  penny  up  and  brushed  it 
carefully.  It  was  an  old  penny,  worn 
with  honest  service,  and  bora  the  Order 
of  the  Ship  and  Lighthouse.  This,  as 
I  pointed  out  to  Samuel,  was  a  dis- 
tinction and  not  a  disability.  "  When 
you  are  old,  Samuel,"  I  said,  "I  will 
write  things  about  you  to  the  news- 
papers. Your  infirmities  shall  not 


escape  the  public  eye;  your  untitncss 
for  the  Civil  Service  shall  be  duly 
advertised,  and  for  the  present  just  you 
leave  my  pennies  alone." 

It  was  then  that  a  policeman  passed, 
so  I  went  home  and  did  not  see  Samuel 
till  the  following,  night.  This  time  1 
fed  him  with  the  newest  and  thickest 
and  shiniest  penny  in  Marylebone, 
which  ho  promptly  threw  in  the  mud. 

"  That  settles  it,"  I  said.  "  I  report 
you  to-morrow.  I  should  send  off  the 
complaint  now  if  only  I  could  get  a 
stamp  out  of  you.  ..." 

"Can't  you  read?"  asked  Samuel  in 
a  snappy  tone.  "  The  notice  says  plain 
enough  that  I  'in  empty." 

Last  Sunday  night  at  half-past  eleven 
— not,  1  think,  an  unreasonable  hour — 
I  paid  Samuel  my  third  visit.  He  was 
not  looking  so  bright  and  perky  as 
usual,  so  I  determined  to  give  him  no 
loophole  for  rudeness  ;  and,  after  wish- 
ing him  a  pleasant  evening  and  lots  of 
business,  I  produced  a  painfully  re- 
spectable penny  (la'.e  Victorian)  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

He  bit  it  once,  and  then  pushed  it 
back  to  me.  "Come,  come,'  said  I, 
"  you  know  very  well  there  's  nothing 
the  matter  with  it." 


"That's  as  may  bo,"  said  Samuel 
with  a  sickly  scowl;  "but  there's 
something  the  matter  with  me.  1  'in 
out  of  order,  as  you  might  have  known 
if  you  'd  troubled  to  look." 

So   the  victory  at   present    is   with 
;  Samuel,  the  slot  machine.    And  I  linwe- 
I  yet  to  discover  whether  it  is  my  pennies 
j  he  objects  to,  or  myself,  or  if   he  is 
'merely  touting  for  half-crowns. 

But  if  he  is  malingering  (as  I  strongly 

1  suspect,  for  all  his  symptoms  of  dis- 

'  order)  and  happens  to  be  an  insured 

person   under   the   Act,  let   me   point 

out  to  Samuel  that  one  of  the  paitel 

doctors   for    his    district   is    n    second 

cousin  of  mine. 

At  iho  moment  of  writing,  the  weather 
is  not  very  appreciably  colder,  and  we 
therefore  continue  to  receive  accounts 
of  robins'  nests  in  motor-bonnets,  prim- 
roses by  the  river's  brim,  and  goose- 
berries on  Dartmoor.  But  the  mo.^t 
poignant  communication  wo  have  had 
is  from  a  husband  in  Chiswick.  "  I 
wrote  to  you  last  week  to  say  that  in  my 
garden  I  still  have  blooming  violets,  -o 
mild  is  the  weather;  now  I  beg  to  in- 
form you  that,  from  the  same  cause,  no 
doubt,  on  Tuesday  last  my  wife  began 
'spring  cleaning." 


412 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBKB  12,  1913. 


ANOTHER    LAND   GRIEVANCE. 

I  AM  a  small  landowner.  Wait  one 
moment,  please,  before  ordering  me  to 
the  guillotine.  I  am  also  a  victim  of 
game-preservers.  That  ensures  me  a 
temporary  reprieve,  does  it  not  ? 

Let  me  state  my  case — which  by  tho 
way  has  not  yet  been  submitted  to  the 
Liberal,  Unionist,  or  Labour  land  in- 
quiries. My  humble  estat 
of  three  acres  is  bounded  on 
the  north  by  the  Marqui 
of  Bungay,  on  tho  east  bj 
Sir  Granville  Toots,  on  th< 
south  and  west  by  LOR 
Brockstonos.  I  am  sur 
rounded  by  the  best  game 
preserves  in  England 
Cabinet  Ministers  are 
always  doing  their  best  in 
my  locality  to  diminish  the 
deadly  game  plague.  The 
crack  of  guns  and  the  click 
of  cameras  are  heard  all  day 
long.  I  make  a  small,  but 
appreciable,  addition  to  my 
income  by  charging  way- 
leaves  for  Tatter  snap- 
shotters  as  they  rush  from 
one  shooting  party  to 
another.  I  have  spent 
much  money  on  the  culti- 
vation of  my  land.  Little 
I  patches  of  rye  and  barley 
.1  are  spread  all  over  it,  and 
it  is  enckcled  by  a  ring  of 
mangolds.  Till  this  season 
I  h  ,ve  enjoyed  excellent 
.sport.  The  pheasants 
esc'.ping  from  the  .battues 
around  me^co.ngregated  on 
my  little  haven  of.  peace. 
I  assure  you  that  when  I 
went  shooting-myself  it  was 
necessary  to  •carry  an  um- 
brella to  shield  one  from 
the  falling  birds. 

But  now,  alas,  these 
greedy  game-kings  have 
erected  fences  of  wire- 
netting  twenty  feetjijgh 
around  their  preserves. 
They  have  taken,  labourers 
from  the  productive  work  of 


there  will  bo  no  game  unless  they 
are  lucky  enough  to  bag  a  Taller 
snapsliotter. 

Can  such  things  be  in  free  England? 
Unless  all  the  gamekeepers  are  taken 
from  their  usual  work  and  set  to  raising 
food  for  the  people  the  happy  natural 
life  of  the  countryside  is  doomed. 

I  appeal  to  the  great  CHANCELLOR, 
the  Little  Brother  of  the  Poor,  for  help. 


THE    NEW  CITY. 

THE  complete  annihilation  of  Tam- 
many Hall  has  had — pending  its  resur- 
rection— an  astonishing  effect  upon  New 
York  and  its  people.  Boss  MURPHY  is 
in  such  a  state  of  collapse  that  he 
cannot  now  take  anything,  excepting 
his  defeat  and  occasionally  a  little  bread 


and  milk. 


KEATS  ON  THE  MEXICAN  DIFFICULTY. 

(With  Variations.) 

[President  WooDnow  WILSON  and  his  Foreign  Secretary  Mr  WILLIAM 
JENNINGS  BBYAN.] 

So,  like  stout  COKTEZ,  with  spread-eagle  eyes, 
He  viewed  the  unpacific  ;  and  W.  JEN.  " 

Gazed  at  his  leader  with  a  wild  surmise, 
Chatty  upon  a  peak  in  Darien. 


tilling  the  .soil  and.  stationed  them 
round  my  borders  to  "hish"  back  any 
pheasant  which  desires  to  pay  me  a 
friendly  visit.  My  melancholy  mangolds 
stand  unpecked — that  is -good  blank 
verse,  by  the  way.  Base-gamekeepers 
taunt  me  over  the  boundary  as  they  go 
their  rounds.  And  I  have  arranged  my 
annual  shooting-party  for  next  week. 
My  tailor  had  promised,  to  come.  Mv 


On  the  other  hand,  the  new 
Mayor,  Mr.  JOHN  MITCHEL, 
begins  his  term  of  office  full 
o£  righteous  enthusiasm; 
ho  has  already  instituted  a 
pretty  little  custom  of 
gathering  his  officials  to- 
gether at  the  beginning  of 
the  day's  work  and  reading 
to  them  choice  extracts  from 
LONGFELLOW,  EMERSON,  and 
ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX. 

To  tho  English  visitor 
the  alteration  most  ap- 
parent is  that  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  police.  "Con- 
stable," said  a  gentleman 
(obviously  English,  from 
his  foreign  accent  and  the 
shape  of  his  boots)  to  a 
police  inspector  in  Maddison 
Square,  "  will  you  be  good 
enough  to  direct  me  to  174th 
Street  ?  "  For  a  moment  or 
two  tho  burly  official  was 
overcome,  and  could  hardly 
restrain  his  feelings ;  but 
ultimately  his  better  nature 
conquered,  and,  keeping  his 
hands  strictly  behind  him, 
he  replied  courteously, 
"  Sure ;  go  right  on  and 
you  '11  find  it  between  173rd 
Street  and  175th  Street." 

A  touching  story  of  the 
changed  character  of 
another  police  official  comes 
from  the  Bowery  district. 
A  gambling-saloon  keeper 
met  him  one  evening,  and 
with  a  cordial  wink  pressed 
a  roll  of  greenbacks  into  the 
hand  of  the  guardian  of 
public  morals.  Shrinking 
back  as  if  he  had  touched  a 
viper,  the  policeman. threw 


-  -   Yipci,    tue  puiiueiiJiiu .  imtJW 

1   appeal   to   Captain  PRETYMAN,   the  :  the  notes  into  the  gutter,  then,  drawing 
.Big  brother  of  the  Dukes,  to  save  the  his  bludgeon,  he  felled  the  saloon-keeper 

ristocracy  from  the  .consequences   of  to  the  ground,  saying  firmly  but  kindly 
their  own  greed.    If   all  fails  I  must; as  he  did  so,  "Sonny,  I'm  not  taking 
take  to  violent  measures,  as  most  politi- !  any." 
cians  seem  to  do  nowadays.  I  will  call  in  !  . 

the  aid  of  Mrs  PANKHURST,  the  Mother-       From    a    notice    of     the    Chemical 

n-law  of  the  People,  and  arrange  for  a  ;  Society's  publications  :-- 
Sufiragette  demonstration  on  my  estate.  "Conversion  of  orthoni 
Ihen,  when  everv  nheasant-,  koa  flnrl  fmm  mrariinmiiuwi'iiai:  n?,,.», 


orthonitroamines      into 


mi         °,  """•"  uonversion     or     ortnomtroami 

Inen,  when  every  pheasant  has  fled  from   oxadiazoleoxides  (Furazaucoxides)." 
t- lift  n  isf,~p]f»f:  flip  AT  a  ivn-iio  j-if"R.i>-       ».-   QI..  ;  rut i i_* *__   i         i     ( 


.    *,,     ,        7  "»J  i  every  pneasantnasnedlrom   oxadiazoleoxides  (Furazaueoxides)." 

,d  consented  to  set  off  a  the  district,  the  Marquis  of  Bungay,  Sir  j  The  explanation  in  brackets  is  perhaps 

his  bill.     All   my  club  Granv.lle  Toots,  and  Lord  Brockstones  hardly  necessary,  but  it  may  be  wel- 

acquaintances  to  whom  I  owe  &  debt  will  appeal  for  mercv.  and  T  shall  sf.m-nK,  I  ™r  ...  J  .  „  ;„„ 


of  hospitality  will  be  there.    And  yet 


joiiui^    iicut:&&ciL y ,    uuu    10    i^iay    uo    vvcr 

will  appeal  for  mercy,  and  I  shall  sternly  corned  by  some  of  our  more  ignorant 
•finlv    "  TYirt  Info f™  Ini^  "  __  j J 


reply,  "  Too  late— too  late." 


readers. 


NOVKMHKB  12.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


413 


Publisher  (to  humorous  artist  wlto  is  shoiviiuj  him  some  "side-splitters").  "Ann  TI;VSE  nuMonons  DBAWINQS?" 

Artist.  "  YES— EB "  Piiblislier.  "You  DO  THEM  FOB  AMUSEMENT,  I  SUPPOSE?"  Artist.  "On!  .vo— I- 

Publishcr.  "WELL,  THEY  DON'T  AMUSE  ME  EITHER!" 


THE   DONGO. 
A  RHYME  OF  REVOLT. 

(Vide  Press -passim) 
I'sing  tJic  delectable  Dongo, 
The  national  dance  of  the  Pongo, 
Who  dwell  on  ths  banks  of  the  Con-go. 

Historical. 
'TwAs  danced  before  great  RHAMVSI- 

NITUS  ; 

It  horrified  the  Emperor  TITUS  ; 
It  soothed  the  last  hours  of  ST.  Vrrus; 
It;  was  the  joy  of  AGRIPPINA, 
The  EMPRESS-DOWAGEU  OF  CHINA, 
SEMIRAMIS,  ANACREON 
And,  just  a  little  later  on, 
JIM  LARKIN  and  AUGUSTUS  JOHN  ; 
But  not,  perhaps,  of  ANNIE  SWAN. 

Geographical. 

It  cheers  the  natives  of  Gaboon  ; 
Tarantulates  the  mild  Walloon ; 
It  makes  the  Englishman  less  rigid, 
The  chilly  Eskimo  less  frigid, 
And  gives  the  boon  of  perfect  manners 
To  sons  and  daughters  of  nieat-canners. 

Therapeutic. 

It  cures  club-feat,  arthritis,  mumps, 
Expels  the  doldrums  and  the  dumps ; 


It  dries  up  water  on  the  brain  ; 
It  brings  delusion  to  the  sane. 

Economic. 

It  finds  employment  for  the  freak ; 
It  makes  poor  Mrs.  Grundy  shriek  ; 
It  frees  from  their  financial  kinks 
Owners  of  unfrequented  rinks, 
And  causes  their  confiding  friend 3 
To  thrill  with  hopes  of  dividends ; 
It  fills,  when  other  diet  palls, 
The  restaurants  and  music-halls ; 
And  even  weans  our  golfing  nuts 
From  prattling  of  their  drives  and  putts. 

Ethical. 

It  shows  in  an  engaging  shape 
The  antics  of  the  human  ape ; 
Inkslinging  pedants  it  impels 
To  search  for  classic  parallels ; 
And  very  nearly,  but  not  quite, 
Wins  sympathy  for  ALMROTH  WRIGHT, 
It  spurs  dilapidated  satyrs 
To  tear  stale  passions  into  tatters ; 
It  fires  the  measly  amorist 
To  tell  of  kisses  never  kissed ; 
It  turns  the  tsa-  or  dinner-tablo 
Into  a  bounding  blithering  babel ; 
Teaches  photographers  to  blush 
And  Hoods  the  press  with  rancid  gush 


Revels  triumphant  in  the  void, 

Till   Reason's  still  small  voice   is 

drowned 
In  billows  of  insensate  sound, 

And  Drivel,  shear  and  unalloyed. 

"  We  were  173  miles  oast  of  Belle  I»le,  and 
proceeding  at  very  slow  speed,  when  the 
officer  on  the  look-out  on  the  sternhead  re- 
ported the  presence  of  an  iceberg,  which  was 
easily  avoided." — Glasgow  Herald. 

A  stern  chase  is  a  long  chase,  and  most 
of  these  icebergs  are  under-engined. 

From  a  local  paper: — 

"Taylor  told  how  he  concealed  himself  at 
night-time,  and  at  an  opportune  moment 
fronted  the  defendant.  He  found  two  rabbits 
in  his  possession.  Later  on  ho  picked  up 
seven  snakes." 

It  was  a  kindly  act,  for  they  had  been 
bothering  the  defendant  a  good  deal. 

Mr.  AUSTEN  CHAMBERLAIN  on  Home 
Rule  :— 

"Mr.     Gladstone    suddenly    declared    his 
conversion,  and  the  bulk  of  the  Literal  purty 
.  .  .  found   salvation,  and  were  baptised  by 
quadroons  and  platoons." — Daily  Telegraph. 
The  coloured  gentlemen  coming  first. 


411 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBER  12,  1013. 


THE    LAST   SMOKE. 

"  I  HAVE  made  up  my  mind,"  I  said. 

••  Absolutely  and  irrevocably  ?  "  said  Francesca. 

'•  Yes,  absolutely  and  irrevocably." 

"  I  'in  glad  to  hear  that,"  she  said,  "  because  sometimes, 
when  you've  merely  made  up  your  mind, 'you've  gone  back 
on  it,  you  know." 

"  What  strange  language  is  this?  "  I  said.  "  How  can  a 
man  go  back  on  his  mind?  Minds  do  not  lend  themselves 
to  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  Don't  they?"  she  said.    "  I  know  one  that  gives  itself.' 

"Francesca,"  I  said,  "we  will  not'  quibble  any  more. 
I  want  you  to  realise  that  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to 
give  up  smoking."  I  paused  to  watch  the  effect  of  this 
announcement.  Nothing  happened.  The  clock  went  on 
ticking.  The  Pekinese  dog  continued  to  snore.  Francesca 
did  not  cease  to  sew. 

'•  1  have  decided  to  give  up  smoking,"  I  repeated. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  there  's  nothing  in  that." 

"  Nothing  in  that  ?  "  I  cried.  "  The  whole  world  is  in  it. 
Here  am  I,  changing  the  entire  course  of  my  life,  sacrificing 
something  that  is  very  dear  to  me,  deciding  to  make  myself 
extremely  miserable,  and  you  sit  there  doing  a  piece  of 
absurd  plain  sewing  and  tell  me  there's  nothing  in  it.  It's 
enough  to  make  a  saint  selfish." 

"  We  won't  worry  about  saints,"  she  sa'd ;  "  they  don't 
come  into  the  question." 

"  There  you  go  again,"  I  said  ;  "  you  refuse  to  allow  me 
the  least  little  bit  of  credit." 

"  All  I  wished  to  'point  out  was  that  this  is  the  tenth 
time  to  my  certain  knowledge  that  you  've  decided  to  give 
up  smoking." 

"  What  of  that?  "  I  said.  "If  it's  a  good  thing  to  do 
you  can't  do  it  too  often.  And,  anyhow,  the  other  nine 
times  weren't  nearly  so  strong  and  determined  as  this  one. 
This,  Francesca,  is  the  real  thing." 

"And  that,  I  suppose, 4s  why  you  are  at  this  moment 
smoking  a  cigarette." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  have  an  eagle  eye.  Nothing 
can  escape  you.  I  had  not  noticed — I  mean,  I  lit  it 
without — that  is,  it's  my  last  cigarette.  You  wouldn't 
rob  a  man  of  his  last  cigarette,  would  you  ?  Please  look 
well  at  this  cigarette  before  it 's  too  late,  for  it  is  my  last. 
There — it 's  gone.  You  '11  never  see  it  again — unless  1 
make  it  the  last  but  one,  and  then  it  won't  be  the  same, 
will  it  ?  Still,  I  think  that 's  the  best  way.  I  really  do 
want  j'ou  to  notice  the  whole  of  my  definitely  last  cigarette 
so  that  you  may  some  day  tell  the  children  all  about  it." 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  Francesca,  and  she  seized  the 
cigarette  box. 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  I  am  surprised  at  yon.  Is  it  kind, 
is  it  even  ladylike,  to  pounce  upon  a  gentleman's  cigarettes 
at  the  very  moment  when  he  was  about  to  bid  them  a 
last  fare  well?" 

"  I  am  defending  the  gentleman  against  himself,"  she 
said. 

"  But  the  gentleman  doesn't  want  to  be  defended  by  you. 
He  feels  that  you  are  not  acting  in  accordance  with  the 
dictates  of  your  better  nature ;  that  you  're  putting  yourself 
brward  ;  that  in  calmer  moments  you  '11  be  sorry  for  what 
you  're  doing ;  that  you  ought  to  show  greater  confidence  in 
iis  strength  of  will ;  that " 

"  You  may 'say  what  you  like."  she  said,  "  but  you  're  not 
;oing  to  have  this  box." 

"Then,"  I  said,  "I  will  have  your  work-basket,"  and  I 
removed  it  and  her  work  from  her  side. 

I  was  hemming  a  handkerchief  for  you,"  she  said. 

"  And  I  was  going  to  smoko  an  absolutely  final  cigarette 


solely  to  give  you  pleasure.  How  can  a  man  give  up 
smoking  unless  he  smokes  an  absolutely  final  cigarette?  " 

"  You  've  done  that,"  she  said. 

"No,"  I  sair],  "  it  was  intended  to  be  the  last,  but,  when 
you  refused  to  watch  it,  it  became  the  last  but  one." 

"  We'll  put  olf  the  last  indefinitely,"  she  said. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  you  can  have  your  old  work-basket 
back,  and  you  can  keep  my  cigarette  box,  and  I  '11  give  up 
smoking — jiofc  voluntarily,  but  under  compulsion — under 
your  compulsion,  remember — and  whenever  I  feel  wretched 
about  it  and  pine  for  a  smoke  and  can't  get  it  I  shall  put 
it  all  down  to  you." 

"  I  refuse  to  be  intimidated,"  she  said. 

"  I  'in  not  intimidating  you.  I  'm  merely  telling  you 
what  kind  of  a  happy  home  we  're  going  to  have  unless  you 
give  me  back  my  cigarettes  and  allow  me  to  give  up 
smoking  of  my  own  free  will  and  in  my  own  way." 

"  Take  your  old  cigarettes,"  she  said  ;  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
want  them.  Only  don't  you  ever  talk  to  me  again  about 
the  weakness  of  women." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  you  have  done  a  noble  action. 
Observe,  I  take  one — only  one — cigarette  out  of  the  box. 
I  close  the  box  and  push  it  away,  for  I  have  done  with  it 
for  ever.  I  now  light  the  one  cigarette — puff— putf— and 
there  you  are.  I  've  given  up  smoking  at  last,  and  1  've 
done  it  entirely  for  your  sake — because  you  did  waut  me  to 
give  it  up,  didn't  you?  You  felt  I  was  smoking  too  much, 
and  you  couldn't  help  trying  to  save  rue,  could  you  ?  And 
now  you  've  saved  me." 

At  this  moment  tea  was  announced. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Francesca  cheerfully,  "  let 's  go  into  the 
drawing-room  and  give  up  afternoon  tea  for  ever  arid  ever, 
absolutely  and  finally.  It 's  all  ready."  E.  G.  L. 


MAMMOTHS. 

UP  and  down  the  high  woods,  up  and  down  the  low, 
Must  'a'  gone  a-hunting  morts  of  years  ago ; 
When  the  beaver  whistled,  when  the  aurochs  ran, 
Must  'a'  been  a-hunting  when  the  world  began. 

For  I  half  remember  (tusk  on  kingly  tusk) 

How  I  've  seen  the  mammoths  moving  through  the  dusk, 

Mammoths  all  a-marching,  terrible  to  see, 

Through  an  awful  oak-wood  glooming  ghoulishly. 

Shadows  huge  and  hairy,  as  the  day  was  done, 
Somehow  I  remember,  walking  one  by  one, 
Bulls  grotesque  and  solemn  pulling  boughs  in  halves, 
Eunning  'neath  their  mothers  little  idiot  calves. 

Lumping  through  the  oak-swamp,  vast  and  dim  and  grey, 
I  have  watched  the  mammoths  pass  at  dusk  of  day ; 
Through  the  quaking  hollow,  through  the  tree-trunks 

stark, 
Gleams  of  mighty  ivory  breaking  up  the  dark. 

That 's  the  way  I  dream  it,  that 's  the  way  I  know, 
Must  'a'  gone  a-hunting  years  and  years  ago, 
For  I  've  seen  the  mammoths — 'tisn't  you  that  could — 
Moving  like  cathedrals  through  a  dreadful  wood. 


"  Smoking  room  contains  a  vast  number  o£  trophies  of  tho  chase, 
ncluding  buffalo  horns,  cane  furniture,  card  and  occasional  tables, 
rocking  chair,  arm  chairs,  carpet,  rugs,  skins,  brass  ornaments,  has- 
socks, ferns  and  palms  in  tubs."— Adi-t.  in  "  East  African  Standard." 

Only  yesterday  we  followed  the  spoor  of  a  hassock  for  some 
miles  over  Hampstead  Heath,  but  at  Golder's  Green  the 
beast  winded  us,  and  we  had  to  return  with  nothing  but 
a  couple  of  occasional  tables  in  tho  bag. 


NOVEMBER  12,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   Oil   THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


413 


v 


THE    RIFLE    SUPERSEDED. 


id  in  a  daily  paper  a  statement  to  the  effect  that  "  Miss  Emmy  Dcstinn,  the  famous  prlma  donna,  conquered  ton 
Dice  at  Babelsburg,  near  Berlin,"  I  beg  to  send  you  a  sketch,  done  by  a  friend,  of  a  somewhat  similar  incident  which 


Sin, — Having  read  i 
fierce  lions  with  her  voice  i 

occurred  to  me  on  my  recent  concert  tour  in  East  Africa,  when  unexpectedly  encountering  a  troop  of  lions.  The  music  employed  was  a 
selection  from  STRAUSS,  sung  in  rag-time.  But  for  a  slight  cold  which  affected  my  low  notes  I  am  confident  that  I  could  have  bagged 
the  whole  family.  I  am  yours  truly, 

Royal  Opera  House,  Mombasa.  Toxio  SPAGHETTI. 


AN    IMPOSSIBLE     INTERVIEW. 

THE  advertisement  manager  of  the 
influential  journal  requested  the  depu- 
tation of  West  End  shopkeepers  to  be 
shown  in. 

They  entered.  They  were  dazzling 
in  frock  coats  and  tall  hats,  but  a  few 
of  the  younger  bloods  wore  tweeds  to 
show  tbat  they  belonged  to  a  new  and 
more  flexible  generation. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  the 
manager  asked. 

"  It 's  like  this,"  said  the  spokesman. 
"  It  is  now  November.  What  we  want 
is  that  the  public  mind  should  be 
imbued  as  early  as  possible  with  the 
idea  of  the  approach  of  Christmas." 

"But  surely  wo  are  all  aware  of 
that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  not  refer  to  Christmas 
purely  as  Christinas." 

"  Qud  Christmas,"  put  in  one  of  the 
younger  bloods  who  had  been  to  a 
public  school. 

"Exactly,"   said    the   spokesman    a 


little  uncertainly.  "  Not  Christmas 
purely  as  Christmas,  but  Christmas  as 
a  season  for  the  exercise  of  unwonted 
generosity." 

"  But  that  is  the  general  conception 
of  it,"  said  the  manager,  "is  it  not?" 

"  It  may  be,  but  we  have  reached 
a  period  in  the  world's  development 
when  one  cannot  say  a  thing  too  often 
or  too  emphatically." 

"  Yes,"  said  another  of  the  younger 
bloods,  "what  we  want  is  the  importance 
of  this  Christmas  generosity  jolly  well 
rubbed  in,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Precisely,"  said  the  spokesman. 
"  Now,  a  series  of  articles  and  reminders 
from  you  would  do  wonders  for  us.  A 
paragraph  here,  a  column  there,  point- 
ing out  that  present-giving  is  to  be 
more  than  ever  fashionable." 

"  Yes,"said  another  of  the  tweed  suits, 
"  a  list  of  nobs  seen  yesterday  in  Bond 
Street  and  Piccadilly,  don't  you  know  ? 
A  word  as  to  what  Lord  Lummey  is 
giving  the  Marchioness  of  Milkshire. 
And  so  on." 


"Because,"  said  a  fourth,  "there's 
nothing  that  bucks  up  the  ordinary 
ruck  of  people  so  much  as  knowing  that 
they  're  'in  a  nutty  movement.  That 's 
what  we  want  you  to  do.  To  keep  on 
hammering  away  for  the  next  few  weeks 
at  the  Christmas -present  rage.  To 
make  generosity  the  thing.  Nothing 
more.  It 's  quite  easy." 

"  Will  you  ?  "  asked  the  spokesman. 

"  It  might  be  done,"  said  the  manager, 
"  as  it 's  not  beyond  the  bounds  of  possi- 
bility. But  what  .  .  .?" 

"  Our  society  has  plenty  of  funds," 
said  the  spokesman.  "  We  wish  to  put 
the  thing  on  a  commercial  basis." 

"Ah,"  said  the  manager,  "then  I 
daresay  something  may  be  done.  After 
all,  it  is  a  season  of  friendliness  and 
good  cheer,  is  it  not  ?  Liberality  should 
be  rampant  then,  if  ever  it  is.  Good 
afternoon;  good  afternoon.  You  will 
hear  from  me  very  shortly." 

So  now,  as  this  is  a  wholly  im- 
possible conversation,  you  will  know 
what  not  to  expect. 


416 


PUNCH,    OK    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  12,  1913. 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

-THK  PI-HSUIT  OF  PA.MKLA.'' 
Tm:  lady  was  both  pursuer  and  pur- 
sued. The  hero  she  was  afier  (with  an 
ingenuousness  often  found  on  the  stage, 
iniil  in  tliis  case  said  to  ho  duo  to 
her  upbringing  in  the  back-blocks  of 
Amerii-a)  \\as  that  pleasant  waster, 
.l/dii  (liTitnu' :  the  villain  after  her  was 
her  aewly-aoquired  husband,  ,/.>///< 
Dodib'i.  1'iuin-lii  had  not  met  the 
elderly  and  repulsive  Dodder  for  six 
\ears  before  their  marriage,  and  she 
had  heeoino  his  wife  simply  to  escape 


wedded    life    was    quite    happy    unti 
five     minutes     after     the     ceremony 
when,    having   presented    her   with 
cheque-book,  and  told  her  that  she  hat 
plenty  of  money  of  her  own  ("Bride 
yroom  to  Bride— a  cheque-book"),  Jotn 
Dodder  tried  to  kiss  her.      Indignanth 
Pamela  jumped  on  her  horse  and  rod 
away  with  the  cheque-book.    I  suppose 
(though  we  aro  not  told  so  definitely 
she  rode  to  the  nearest  bank,  and  \ 
should  much  have  liked  to  be  presen 
at    the    cashing    of    the    ingenuous 
Pamela's     first    cheque  — "  Pay    Me 
£1,000" — by  the  even  more  ingenuous 
bank  manager.     But  no  matter.     The 
great  thing  was  that  she  embarked  witl 
a  suitable  wardrobe  for  Honolulu,  am 
on  the  boat  met  Alan  Greame.     Undei 
the  impression  that  she  was  a  widow 
Alan  made  love  to  her,  and  under  the 
impression  that  marriage  ceremonies 
meant  nothing  (except  perhaps  cheque- 
books), Pamela  made  love  to  him.    Of 
course,  as  soon  as  ho  heard  of  John 
Dodder  he  was  all  remorse;    and  in 
order  not  to  compromise  her — which 
was  an    expression   Pamela    did    not 
understand — he    escaped    to    Japan. 
Pamela  followed.     Again,  in   her  in- 
genuousness, she  offered  herself  to  him; 
again,  determined  not  to  take  advan- 
tage of  it,   he  withstood   her.     They 
parted  for  ever ;  she  shamed  and  angry, 
he  miserable. 

So  far,  excellent.  The  first  two  Acts 
make  a  delightful  entertainment.  Mr. 
C.  B.  FERNALD  has  provided  Greame 
with  an  extraordinary  number  of  good 
things  to  say,  and  no  one  can  say  them 
so  effectively  as  Mr.  DENNIS  EADIE, 
no  one  respond  to  them  so  charmingly 
as  Miss  GLADYS  COOPER.  Mr.  FEHNALD 
is  a  man  of  wit ;  I  take  off  my  hat  to 
him.  But  in  the  last  two  Acts  he 
becomes  more  serious,  and  reluctantly 
I  put  my  hat  on  again.  (1  hate  writing 
in  a  hat.) 

Act  III.  of  this  geographical  play 
finds  Pamela  at  Hong-Kong.  She 
may  as  well  go  there  as  anywhere 
else— particularly  as  her  visit  serves 
to  introduce  us  to  a  delightful  Chinese 


gentleman,  Mr.  AZOOMA  SHEKO;  but 
it  is  a  shock  to  (ind  that  Grcu/nc 
is  there  too.  You  '11  never  guess  why. 
He  is  starting  on  a  Polar  expedition; 
and  in  order  to  come  on  in  this  Act  he 
stalls  from  the  port  to  which  Pamela 
has  lied.  By  this  time  he  has  thrown 
his  morals  overboard;  and,  when  he 
accidentally  comes  across  Pamela,  he 
throws  the  expedition  overheard  too, 
and  suggests  that  she  should  como  to 
Italy  with  him.  However,  Mr.FEKNALi) 
will  have  to  get  Italy  into  some  oilier 
play,  for  Pamela  refuses.  Poor  dear, 
she  only  wanted  a  little  persuasion,  and 


from  the  hack-blocks.     However,  their  I  was  longing  to  shout  to  Alan,  "Pick 


her  up  in  your  arms,  man,  and  carry 


THE  FAVOURITE   "PURSUIT 
PAMELA." 


OF 


Pamela  (Miss  GLADYS  CCOPEB)  to  Alan 
Greame  (Mr.  DENNIS  EADIE).  "  0,  Alan,  I  do 
so  feel  like  fishing." 

her  out."  But  the  cold-blooded  Pole 
explorer  only  stood  and  said  sternly, 
"  Once  more,  are  you  coming  or  are  you 
not?  "  No  wonder  she  hesitated.  Even 
John  Dodder  could  have  wooed  her 
letter  than  that. 

A  poor  Third  Act;  and  the  Fourth 
was  as  poor.    It  is  three  years  later,  and 
Atau,  returning  from  the  Polar  Expedi- 
;ion  where  he  had  been  "staggering 
along  the  sky-line  with  a  comrade  on 
liis  back"  (these  details  never  sound 
mpressive  in  a  theatre),   is   dying  in 
Canada  of  inanition.    His  pulse  is  only 
sixty    when    it    really    ought    to    be 
seventy.     (I  need   hardly  say    that  I 
mmediately  got  out  my  watch  and,  as 
yell  as  I  could  in  the  dark,  tried  to 
ime  my  own  pulse,    which,    to    my 
lorror, seemed  aboutfifty-five.)  Pamela, 
now  a  widow  (of  course),  follows  him ;' 
and  there   is  a  long  scene  in  which, 
landing   behind   his   sick    chair,    she 


pretends  (with  only  an  occasional  dis 
guise  of  voice)  to  be  his  new  nurse.  By 
and-by  she  tells  him  who  she  is,  ana 
•then  he  jumps  vip  and  embraces  her 
It  is  obvious  that  his  pulse  will  now 
get  back  to  seventy  .  .  .  and  I 


an 


glad  to  say  that,  with  the  lights  on,  my 
own  got  hack  safely  to  seventy-two.    ' 
It  is  a  pity  that  a  play  which  began 
so  well  should  have   ended  so  badly 


The  acting  is  good.  Mr.  DENNIS  EADII 
doss  not  make  a  passionate  lover,  bul 
perhaps  Alan  could  never  have  been 
that.  In  other  respects  he  was  excellent 
Miss  GLADYS  COOPER  surprised  me; 
I  had  no  idea  that  she  could  make  such 
a  true  and  pathetic  figure  of  the  Hong- 
Kong  Pamela.  Sho  played  beautifully 
throughout  in  a  long  and  difficultpart.  I 
must  say  a  word  for  Miss  AYA  YAWADA, 
a  charming  little  Japanese  actress  with 
nothing  to  say  and  a  most  attractive 
way  of  not  saying  it.  Not  quite  nothing, 
though,  forshe  had  learnt  a  little  English 
in  the  last  two  Acts  and  could  make  it 
sound  entirely  delightful.  Having  my 
hat  still  on  I  take  it  off  again  to  Miss 
GLADYS  COOPER  ;  and  once  more  to 
Mr.  FERNALD'S  wit.  I  hope  that  one 
day  it  may  play  round  a  scenario 
more  worthy  of  it.  M. 


A  TEIEE. 
I  'si  only  five  foot  and  a  bit  ; 

My  name  as  a  flapper  was  "  Plumpie ; ' ' 
And,  between  you  and  me,  I  admit 
My  shape 's  still  a  little  bit  stumpy ; 
But  oh  !  I  've  a  passion 
For  up-to-date  fashion, 
And  such  is  my  craving  for  "chic  " 
That  I  load  up  my  figure 
With  all  that 's  de  riyueur 
And  pass  in  the  crowd,  with  a  kick. 

My  muff  makes  the  other  girls  sulk, 
It 's  almost  as  big  as  myself; 

My  furs  are  enormous  in  bulk, 
They  stand  from  my  chest  like  a  shelf ; 
But  I  leave  them  untied 
For  fear  they  should  hide 

My  neck,  in  the  lowest  of  V's, 
"Unveiled  by  a  fichu, 
Ar.d  that's  why  (a-tishu) 

[  often  give  vent  to  a  sneeze. 

My  hat  covers  most  of  my  face, 

I  only  see  out  of  one  eye ; 
My  stockings  are  gossamer  lace, 
My  heels  are  p.odigiously  high  ; 

My  skirt  clings  and  tapers, 

Prohibiting  capers 
In  spite  of  the  orthodox  slit ; 

In  short,  from  shoe  leather, 

To  top-gallant  feather, 
I  'm  doing  my  best  to  be  It. 


The  Journalistic  Touch. 
'  Her  breadth  of  mind  was  masculine  iu  its 
depth."— T.  I'.'s  Weekly. 


NOVEMDEH  12,  191.T]          PUNCH,   OR  THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


417 


Customer  (after  competing purcltase).  "BY  THE  WAY,  HAVE  YOU  GOT  A  TIHE-TABLB  I  COULD  LOOK  AT?'' 
Antique  Healer  (mt',i  air  of  gentle  relulcc).  "NOT  A  MODEBN  ONE,  SIB." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THERE  is  a  "reading  without  tears,"  but  it  is  not  the 
reading  of  this  book,  ScM's  Last  Expedition,  published  in 
two  volumes  by  SMITH,  ELDER.  The  first  volume  gives  us 
the  journals  of  Captain  SCOTT  ;  the  second,  the  reports  of  the 
journeys  of  other  members  of  the  Expedition.  There  is 
courage  and  strength  and  loyalty  and  love  shining  out  of  the 
second  volume  no  less  than  out  of  the  first ;  there  were  gallant 
gentlemen  who  lived  as  well  as  gallant  gentlemen  who 
died;  but  it  is  the  story  of  SCOTT,  told  by  himself,  which 
will  give  the  book  a  place  among  the  great  books  of  the 
world.  That  story  logins  in  November,  1910,  and  ends  on 
March  29,  1912 ;  and  it  is  because,  when  you  come  to  the 
end,  you  will  have  lived  with  SCOTT  for  sixteen  months, 
that  you  will  not  be  able  to  read  the  last  pages  without 
tears.  That  Message  to  the  Public  was  heart-rending 
enough  when  it  first  came  to  us,  but  it  was  as  the  story  of 
how  a  great  hero  fell  that  we  read  it;  now  it  is  just  the 
tale  of  how  a  doar  friend  died.  To  have  read  tin's  book 
is  to  have  known  SCOTT  ;  and,  if  I  were  asked  to  describe 
him,  I  think  I  should  use  some  such  words  a?  those 
which,  six  months  before  ho  died,  he  used  of  the  gallant 
gentleman  who  went  with  him,  "  BILL"  WILSON.  "  Words 
must  always  fail  me  when  I  talk  of  him,"  he  wrote ; 
"  I  believe  ho  really  is  the  finest  character  I  ever  met — 
the  closer  one  gets  to  him  the  more  there  is  to  admire. 
Kvery  quality  is  so  solid  and  dependable.  Whatever  the 
matter,  one  knows  Bill  will  lie  sound,  shrewdly  practical, 


intensely  loyal,  and  quite  unselfish."  That  is  true  of 
WILSON,  if  SCOTT  says  so,  for  he  knew  men ;  but  most  of  it 
is  also  true  of  SCOTT  himself.  I  have  never  met  a  more 
beautiful  character  than  that  which  is  revealed  unconsci- 
ously in  these  journals.  His  humanity,  his  courage,  his 
faith,  his  steadfastness,  above  all,  his  simplicity,  mark  him 
as  a  man  among  men.  It  is  because  of  his  simplicity  that 
his  last  message,  the  last  entries  in  his  diary,  his  last 
letters,  are  of  such  undying  beauty.  The  letter  of  consola- 
tion (and  almost  of  apology)  which,  on  the  verge  of  death, 
ho  wrote  to  Mrs.  WILBON,  wife  of  the  man  dying  at  his 
side,  may  well  be  SCOTT'S  monument.  He  could  have  no 
finer.  And  ho  has  raised  a  monument  to  those  other  gallant 
gentlemen  who  died— WILSON,  GATES,  BOWEHS,  EVANS. 
They  are  all  drawn  for  us  clearly  by  him  in  these  pages ; 
they  stand  out  unmistakably.  They  too  come  to  be  friends 
of  ours,  their  death  is  as  noble  and  as  heart-breaking. 
And  there  were  gallant  gentlemen,  I  said,  who  lived— you 
may  read  amazing  stories  of  them.  Indeed,  it  is  a  wondei  ful 
tale  of  manliness  that  these  two  volumes  tell  us.  I  put 
them  down  now  ;  but  I  have  been  for  a  few  days  in  the 
company  of  the  brave  .  .  .  and  every  hour  with  them  has 
made  mo  more  proud  for  those  who  died  and  more  humble 
for  myself. 

Few  readers  of  Punch  should  at  this  date  require  an 
introduction  to  Mr.  ANTHONY  DEANE,  but  if  such  there  bo 
I  have  here  a  volume  of  little  papers  brought  together 
under  the  title  of  In  My  Stiuly  (NISBET)  that  will  furnish 
them  with  an  excellent  occasion  for  making  his  acquaintance. 


418 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  12,  1913. 


Those  especially  who  like  to  sec  what  a  Denial  and  cultivated  j  with  intervals  of  the  Regency  of  GKORGE,  PRINCE  OF  WALES, 
writer  can  make  of  a  great  variety  of  subjects  will  enjoy :  a  dozen  years  of  the  Premiership  of  Lord  NORTH,  with  the 
these  scholarly  trifles.  It  was,  I  think,  another  kind  of  Marquis  of  BUTE,  Lord  ROCKINGHAM,  Lord  GRENVILLE,  and 
dean  to  whom  our  school  hooks  always  used  to  refer  as  the  the  Duke  of  GRAFTOX  successively  in  high  places.  The  period 
••  Witty  Divine."  At  his  best,  this  D'KAXK  is  certainly  well  covered  by  the  Ministry  of  Lord  NORTH  was  perhaps  the 
worthy  of  the  epithet,  though  his  wit  is  perhaps  more  ;  inost  disastrous  in  the  history  of  "this  Realm,  this  England." 
gentle  than  pungent — as  indeed  befits  papers  reprinted  from  The  American  Colonies  had  been  stupidly  driven  into 
The  Treasury,  lie  has  the  eye  of  the  expert  for  unconscious  rebellion.  With  a  mutinous  army,  a  leaking  fleet  kept 
humour  in  others;  though  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  believe  manned  by  the  agency  of  the  press-gang,  a  starving  popula- 
in  the  delicious  quotation  that  lie  gives  from  a  hand-book  to  [  ticn  breaking  out  in  riot,  England  was,  at  the  same  time 
oratory,  which,  by  the  omission  of  brackets  enclosing  the  at  war  with  France  and  Spain.  For  its  guidance  the' 
last  three  words,  was  made  to  read:  "Sir, — Having  been  '  country  needed  a  man  like  PITT;  the  KING  imposed  upon 
a  lifelong  Conservative  or  Liberal,  according  to  circum-'it  Lord  NORTH.  In  place  of  an  eagle  fluttered  a  pigeon 
stances."  1  am  afraid  that  this  sounds  almost  too  fortunate ,  The  only  excuse  for  NORTH  was  that  he  never  sought  the 
to  be  true.  It  is  in  a  paper  called  "At  a  Railway  j  post  thrust  upon  him  and  was  always  whining  confessions 
Bookstall";  and  I  can  imagine  few  more  suitable  volumes  of  his  hopeless  incapacity  to  fulfil  ;fo  -i^™  mu_j.  .-. 

you  could  master  one 
look  inhospitable.    Or 
the  chatty  and   enter- 


taining company  of  Mr. 
DEANE  for  the  length 
of  your  journey.  It 
would  be  money  well 
laid  out.  Not  for  noth- 
ing is  the  paper  wrap- 
per of  the  book  de- 
corated with  a  picture 
of  an  elderly  gentleman 
in  wig  and  ruffles ;  the 
eighteenth-century 
flavour  which  should 
pertain  to  every  good 
essay  is  very  tastable 
in  these  pleasant  com- 
positions and  the  per- 
sonality that  they  re- 
veal. 


"PARROT   SAVES  FAMILY." 

THE  MAN  WHO  DERIVES  HIS  NEWS  SOLELY  FROM  THE  CONTENTS  BILLS  MAY  SOI 
ALWAYS  GET  AT  THE  FACTS,  BUT  HE   RECEIVES  A   STIMULUS  TO  HIS  IMAGINATION. 


eighteenth-century 
drama.  Amongst  them 
is  one  of  JOHN  WILKES, 
painted  by  JOHN  PIXE. 
The  memory  of  WJLKKS 
is  partly  kept  green  by 
the  fame  of  exceptional 
ugliness.  He  is  here 
presented  as  a  bright- 
faced,  intellectual, 
almost  handsome  man. 


Daniil  Alu-ay  was 
quite  the  most  obliging 
fellow  I  ever  met,  but 
also  the  most  mis- 
guided. Ho  regarded 
marriage  solely  as  a 
means  of  assisting  the 
opposite  ssx,  and  no 
sooner  did  he  discover 
Polly  Kay  to  be  in 
trouble  than  he  offered 
himself  as  a  husband 
to  get  her  out.  Being 
of  a  less  impulsively 


In  rare  access  of 
lucidity  and  forceful- 
ness,  GEORGE  III. 
summed  up  in  a  sent- 
ence the  character  of 
his  long-time  favourite 
(because  always  obse- 
quious)  Minister,  Lord  NORTH  "He  is,"  said  his  :  almost  wish,  that  Polly  had  survived  the  wecklmg  ceren 

and  Agatha,  the  beloved  of  Daniel.  Upon  Number  One 
discovering  the  plight  of  Number  Two  it  was  clearly  desir- 
able, as  a  first  step  at  any  rate,  for  him  to  question  Number 
Three,  with  a  horsewhip  if  necessary,  as  to  his  intentions 
before  undertaking  the  burden  of  his  sins  and  giving  the 
go-by  to  Number  Four.  Weston's  subsequent  conduct 
shows  that  pressure  would  probably  have  induced  him  to 
do  the  proper  thing;  and  you  may  be  sure  that  Polly  would 
have  been  happiei  with  a  brute,  who  had  at  least  wronged 
her  at  the  instance  of  a  passion  for  herself,  than  as  the  life- 
long wife  of  a  cold-blooded  hero  who  married  her  only  from 
a  sense  of  duty  to  human  kind.  However,  by  the  inter- 

xmn f  i<-\r\    /-if     T>>.n..!,l ~\     t  i          i  i  .       •'. 


r  --  —    jr**«»vw»»M    »>^ll-wlOpU3OU    \Yt5llIJtJL 

goaded  into  a  reluctant  ineffective  attitude  of  self-defence  " 
these  shrewd  appreciations  so  accurately  and  fully  describe 
the  personages  named  that  his  two  portly  volumes—  Lord 
N  -— 


— 
—yaA  published  by  ARTHUR  HUMPHREYS 


HREY 

seem  almost  superfluous.  Nevertheless  the  reader  endowed 
with  leisure  will  find  himself  well  rewarded  by  devoting  it 
to  a  close  study  of  them.  Steeped  in  knowledge  of  the 
jeorgmn  qjoch,  Mr.  LUCAS  has  produced  a  work  that  will 
lave  permanent  value  among  English  histories.  If  a  fault 
may  be  hinted  at,  it  is  that  so  full  is  his  wallet  of  biographical 
and  critical  scraps  that  he  is  inclined  to  be  too  generous  in 
distributing  them. 


Having  read  every  paee  of  both  volnr     ,   fi  „,  '!"Se    ,  ^uty  to  human  kind-     However,  by  the  inter- 

inmymLmarve^t^rlare1;.^!^^  a'  n^io™  S^ltSEuuTSaS  *"  ^ '  T^  ^  *'! 
could  survive  nearly  sixty  years  of  tl,e  reiL  nf  a »,  l^,1*  S'10uld  •  and  here  ls  au  honest  and  happy  tale  of 


naon 
could  survive  nearly  sixty  years  of  the  reign  of  GEORGE  vugeWe 


NOVKMBKB  19,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


419 


CHARIVARIA. 
MR.   HAIIKY   LAUDEK 


man  are  prophesying  that  the  reign  of 
tho  Tango  will  be  extraordinarily  short, 
is   to  receive   for  it  is  being  discovered  that  this  dance 


from  a  Glasgow  music-hall  a  salary  of  I  is  not  necessarily  improper. 

£1,125  a  week.     We  shall  not  be  sur-  .    ;: 

prised   if   this    leads   to   an   agitation       There  is  evidently  still  a  considerable 

among    tho    admirers   of    Mr.    LLOYD  amount  of  ignorance  in  the  minds  of 

GEOUCIK  in  favour  of  his  stipend  being   most  persons  as  to  tho  correct  form  of 

raised   to  enable  the  CHANCKLLOB  to 'Tango.     A  friend  of  ours  who,  though 

resist   a    temptation   which 

must  be  very  appealing  to  a 

comparatively  poor  man. 


TO    BRIGHTEN    FOOTBALL. 

(Appropriate  designs  for  goal  and  costume  of  goal-keeper.) 


Said  Mr.  LLOYD  GEOUGE 
at  Middlesbrough,  "I  am 
confining  myself  to  the 
land."  Wo  must  be  thank- 
ful for  small  mercies. 
Fortunately  Mr.  WINSTON 
CHUUCHILL  won't  let  him 

have  the  sea. 

•'.••  •'.- 

A  thoughtful  person,  a 
great  admirer  of  Lord 
CBEWE,  writes  to  suggest 
that  Mr.  CHURCHILL  was 
guilty  of  a  grave  error'  in 
allowing  The  Empress  of 
India  to  bo  shot  at  and 
destroyed  the  other  day. 
The  effect  of  this  in  our 
great  Eastern  dependency 
will,  he  declares,  be 
deplorable.  .;.  ... 

Mr.  ALAN  OSTLER  has 
been  trying,  to  discover  the 
source  whence  the  MAD 
MULLAH  obtains  his  arms. 
Some,  he  finds,  are  taken 
from  the  friendly  tribes  who 
are  supplied  by  us  with 
rifles.  As  tax-payers  we 
would  suggest  that  in  future 
the  War  Office  should  place 
on  each  of  these  a  distinctly- 
printed  label  "  NOT  TO  BE 
TAKEN."  f,  ,. 
* 

Now  that  a  precedent  has 
been  made,  it  is  anticipated 
that  many  London  boroughs 
will  in  the  future  choose  men 
of  colour  for  their  Mayors, 
seeing  that  they  show  the 
dirt  so  far  less  than  the  white  kind — 
which  is  quite  a  consideration  in  a  city 
like  ours.  %  ^ 

* 

Reading  that  Mr.  ALFRED  BUTT  had 
last  week  "  agreed  to  release  Mile.  GABY 
DESLYS  "  so  that  she  could  sail  for 
America,  a  dear  old  lady  remarked  that 
she  had  no  idea  that  the  impudent 
little  baggage  had  been  sent  to  prison, 
and  she  hoped  it  would  be  a  lesson  to 
her.  *  „, 

* 

Those  who  know  their  modern  young 

VOL.  cxr.v. 


"VILLA." 


"HOTSPUB." 


he  had  had  no  time  to  take  lessons  in 

the  new  dance,  yet  liked  to  be  in  the 

movement,  went  through  his  callisthcnic 

exercises  in  the  ball-room,  the   other 

evening,  with  the  greatest  success. 

*  * 

* 

"GREEN-ROOM  GOSSIP. 

THE   BEVIVAL  OP  THE   CIBCUS; 

MR.    SHAW'S   NEW   PLAYS." 

Daily  Express. 

It  started,  of  course,  with  Androclcs 
and  the  Lion,  but  it  seems  rather  a 
pity  for  Mr.  SHAW  to  be  carrying  the 
menagerie  idea  still  further. 


Reports  as  to  recruiting  continue  to 
be  disappointing,  and  the  London 
General  Omnibus  Company  is  still 
searching  for  a  satisfactory  life-guard. 

There  is  no  pleasing  some  peopb.  A 
dignified  old  gentleman  of  our  acquaint- 
ance collided  with  a  tram-car  tho  other 
day,  and  was  thrown  off  by  its  cow- 
catcher. Ho  flew  nit  i  a 
temper,  and  declared  that 
ho  would  far  rather  have 
been  run  over  than  chucked 
aside  like  a  piece  of  dirt. 

An  account,  in  The 
Buckingham  Express,  of  a 
football  match  winds  up 
with  the  following  words: — 
"  The  goal-keeper  stood  in 
commanding  attitude  in  the 
centre  of  the  goal  as  if  he 
was  Julius  Caesar,  when 
that  famous  Boman  com- 
manded the  waves  to  fall 
back.  That  kind  of  busi- 
ness didn't  stop  the  ball, 
though."  Even  the  ball 
knew  better. 

*** 

Criticism  of  our  music- 
halls  shows  no  signs  of 
abating.  A  contemporary 
has  now  taken  exception 
to  a  parade  of  corset  models 
which  is  a  feature  of  one  of 
them.  If  this  parade  is 
anything  like  an  illustrated 
advertisement  of  ladies' 
underclothing  published  by 
our  contemporary  in  the 
same  issue  as  the  com- 
plaint, it  certainly  ought  to 
be  stopped.  ...  * 

It  has  been  suggested 
that,  with  a  view  to  the 
relief  of  traffic  congestion 
in  London,  slow  and  heavy 
vehicles  should  be  allowed 
in  the  streets  at  night  only. 
After  all,  persons  living 
on  the  main  thoroughfares 
could,  we  suppose,  if  ne- 
cessary, go  to  bed  during 
the  daytime  instead  of  at  night. 
tfjf 

Among  recent  arrivals  at  the  Zoo 
there  is,  if  you  please,  a  "  Lion-faced 
Ape."  Up  to  the  present  the  news 
has  been  kept  from  the  lions,  as  they 
are  so  touchy. 


"Asked  if  he  would  not  do  a  lot  to  alter 
people's  raids,  the  Chancellor  said :  *  Not  as 
long  as  these  people  are  going  on  like  this.'  " 

Standard. 

Anyhow,  he  had  better  leave  it  to  his 
friends  the  doctors. 


420 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  19,  1913. 


"THE    LOVE    LETTERS    OF 
A    DUCHESS." 

AMAZING  SELF-RE  VIOLATIONS. 

BY  the  courtesy  of  the  Editor  of  Tli" 
TimiU.iIi  lu'vifw  wo  aro  enabled  to 
present  our  readers  with  a  few  choice 
extracts  from  the  next  instalment  of 
the  Love  Letters  of  the  Duchess  of 
Hilgewater  now  appearing  in  that  fear- 
less and  exuberant  periodical.  It  is 
the  boast  of  the  Editor  that  every 
article  in  \\\allccieic  is  true  to  its  name 
—  that  it  makes  the  reader  "  tingle  with 
ecstatic  spirituality."  How  nobly  hj 
fulfils  this  vaunt  may  be  gathered  from 
the  subjoined  extracts.  We  would  gladly 
quote  the  entire  instalment,  did  not  the 
laws  of  copyright  forbid.  It  should  bo 
explained  that  the  Duchess  of  Bilge- 
water  is  the  nom  de  guerre  of  a  beautiful 
lady  who  has  recently  been  sojourning 
in  Egypt  with  her  husband,  .and  that 
the  letters  are  addressed  to  a  famous 
politician,  detained  in  London  by  his 
Parliamentary  duties,  whose  arrival  she 
is  shortly  expecting. 

XXI. 

"  I  am  sitting,  Beloved,  in  the  psrgola 
of  the  Pandemonium  Hotel  in  my 
thinnest  X-ray  nainsook  clothes,  writ- 
ing in  our  love-  book  for  you,  gazing  on 
the  Pyramid  of  CHEOPS,  the  poinsettias 
and  the  bougainvilleas,  while  you,  poor 
dearest,  are  toiling  for  your  Party  at 
by-elections,  growing  more  grey  and 
haggaid  with  each  speech.  ;  .  .Some- 
times you  assume  an  entirely  boyish 
aspect,  but  when  you  are  tired  your 
face  becomes  strangely  dimmed,  and 
your  raven  hair  ssems  silvered  all  over 
instead  of  only  faintly  touched  with  grey 
— a  touch  that  perhaps  contributes  to 
the  extreme  distinction  of  your  appear- 
ance and  enhances  your  resemblance 
to  GEOBGE  ALEXANDER.  .  '.  .  But,  to 
return  to  flowers,  the  Liliiim  auratum 
is  to  me  the  most  enthralling  of  all 
things  that  grow.  Its  scent  is  the 
most  passionate  thing  I  know,  except 
the  curve  of  your  lips  and  your  proud 
petulant  nostrils.  (You  must  come  !)  " 


XXVII. 

HICHENS — you  remember  our  goin" 
to  see  his  Bella  Donna  together— is  an 
impostor.  He  says  that  the  Sphinx 
does  not  care.  It  is  a  base  and  horri- 
ble blasphemy.  She  cares  deeply  and 
tremendously  for  you  and  me.  She 
ias  told  me  so,  in  a  low  muffled 
neratic  whisper,  and  she  is  waiting  in 
a  tense  expectancy  for  your  arrival  on 
hese  immemorial  shores,  to  crown  you 
pictator  of  the  Delta,  Sovereign  of  the 
budan,  and  Archimandrite  of  Abyssinia 

"6^        "' 


xxxiv. 

"  O  mate  of  my  heart,  master  of  my 
medulla,  captain  of  my  cerebellum,  I 
cannot  live  without  you.  Why  di 
you  let  me  go  ?  .  .  .  You  must  come 
you  must  come ;  you  must  come. ;  yo 
must  com?,.  How  I  thank  dear  FILSO 
YOUNG  for  teaching  me  the  true  us 
of  italics !  They  are  the  only  rea 
intensifies  of  emotion,  the  sparkin 
plugs  of  passion,  the  accelerators  o 
the  human  combustion  engine !  You 
You  !  " 

XLI. 

"  Before  you  go,  we  must  ba  in  Cain 
together.  You  must  see  the  Pyramid 
by  day  and  the  Sphinx  by  moonlight 
or  perhaps  I  should  say,  the  Minx  bj 
spoon-light,  for  I  shall  be  with  you 
And  we  will  take  twin  donkeys  tha 
will  never  want  to  leave  each  other's 
side,  not  twin  screws,  but  real  wik 
asses  of  the  dessrt,  with  twin  donkey 
boys,  little  brown  Bedouins,  and  we  '1 
picnic  on  caviare  and  crime  de  Mcnthe 
and  recite  MATTHEW  ARNOLD'S  "  My- 
cerinus  "  in  alternate  lines  to  an  accom- 
paniment of  twin  tom-toms.  Beloved 
we  will !  .  .  ." 

LII. 

"  There  are  so  many  fascinating 
places  to  visit — Karnak  and  Luxor  and 
Port  Said.  One  day  we  will  bathe  in 
the  Suez  Canal,  and  another  day  we 
will  motor  to  the  Tombs  of  the  Queens. 
We  will  take  no  dragoman,  for  I  know 
it  all  by  heart — AMENHOTEP  and  SETI 
and  the  Tarbooshes  and  the  Khotir- 
hashes  and  the  dahabeeyahs  and  the 
shadoofs  and  the  scarabs  and  the  Arabs. 
I  will  introduce  you  to  them  all,  and 
I  shall  say  to  them  in  the  lovely  words 
of  the  Etruscan  Phuphluns, '  Ulat  tana- 
larezul,  amavakar  lauten  weltheinasse, 
sthlafunas  slelethcarriu !' " 


"Last  night  I  dreamed  of  you,  my 
Adored  One,  my  soul's  core,  my  Ikon ! 
We  were  on  horseback  together,  riding 
ever  riding  !  Suddenly  you  leaned  over 
towards  me  and  kissed  my  tall  hat. 
How  I  shall  love  my  hat  after  this !  " 

LXI. 

"There  are  still,  Beloved,  all  the 
Theban  temples  which  I  have  not  yet 
mentioned,  but  which  you  will  find  in 
Baedeker.  These,  too,  we  will  visit, 
O  Chauffeur  cf  my  Soul,  and  meditate 
hand  in  hand  upon  holocausts  of  im- 
perial passions,  whose  most  appalling 
ebullitions  are  as  naught  when  com" 
pared  to  the  volcanic  and  demoniac 
tcrribilitd  of  my  Love  for  You,  you 
Gorgeous  and  Gargantuan  Idol.  Even 
my  husband  likes  you,  though  you  two 
have  not  a  thing  in  common ;  the 


children  love  you,  though  you  hate 
children  like  black-beetles;  and  the 
servants  adore  you  in  spito  of  the  un- 
usual trouble  you  give.  And  I  am  sure 
your  valet  worships  you  idolatrously— 
indeed  I  am  furiously  jealous  of  Louis. 
Oh  to  be  your  doormat,  your  pen-wiper, 
even  your  door-scraper  or  your  hat- 
brush,  you  magnificent,  Mephisto- 
phelean, marmoreal  monster,  you  per- 
fect and  impenetrable  Pipsqueak  !  " 

LXXXIII. 

"  Ycu  are  coming  t  You  darling ! 
You  are  actually  coming.  Yes  !  It 's 
true!  Coming!  You  1  You!  YOU! 
Everything  has  bocome  gay.  All  the 
stars  are  singing,  just  as  they  do  at 
music-halls.  I  am  trembling  like  a 
blancmange.  I  sing  a  To  Dcum  day 
and  night.  It  is  an  excerpt  from  a 
passionate  Italic  opera  and  goes  like 
this  :  You  are  coming  !  You  have, 
bought  your  ticket,  my  below! .  Yon 
have  engaged  a  stats-room.  You  ;/•/'/' 
be  sea-sick,  but  you  dou'i  can\  You 
are  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  Ef/i/pl 
every  day.  I  wait  for  you  here,  I,  ijiiceu 
of  women,  because  you  are  my  king. 
The  moon  is  my  cream  cheese  because 
•/ou  love  me.  The  sun  is  my  gloic-iconn. 
The  earth  is  my  football  ! 

"  There,  that 's  my  To  Dcum.  I  sing 
t  all  day  and  all  night,  and  George  is; 
urious  about  it.  But  how  can  I  help 
t?  You!  You!" 

The    Larkin   Ascending. 
Sung,  to  aBirrell-lirrel  accompaniment , 
by  a  peaceful picketer,  inj>raise  of  the 
hero  of  the  Dublin  strike.) 
Shrill,  irreflective,  unrestrained, 
Eapt,  ringing,  on  the  jet  sustained 
Without  a  break,  without  a  fall 
We  want  the  key  of  his  wild  note  .  .  . 
The  song  seraphically  free 
Of  taint  of  personality, 
So  pure  that  it  salutes  the  suns, 
.The  voice  of  one  for  millions." 

GEORGE  MEKEVITH. 

From  a  letter  in  The  Daily  Sketch  :— 
"  Your  correspondent  who  likens  a  man  to 
super-monkey,  and  impugns  his  morality, 
cems  to  b3  ignorant  that  the  greatest  anato- 
nists  and  physiologists  are  unanimous  in 
pinion  that  woman  is  lass  evolved  from  the 
lonkey  woman  must  be  the  better  evolved 
rom  the  monkey  woman  must  ba  the  better 
pe." 

\t  one  time  we  quite  thought  the  writer 
?as  going  to  say  something  rude  about 
'omen,  but  the  danger  passed  away. 

"Perhaps  that  which  calls  for  most  com- 
icnt   is   the   short   travelling   coat   of   fawn 
orduroy,  worn  with  a  loose  belt  of  the  same 
ial  and  cut  with  long  narrow  labels." 
Paris  Fashions. 
he  labels  would,  of  course,  be  very 
useful  on  a  travelling  coat. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— NOVKMBEB   19,   1913. 


THE    BRONCHO-BUSTER, 

PRESIDENT  WOODROW  WILSON.  "I    WONDER    WHAT    I    DO    NEXT." 


NOVEMHEB  19,  1913.]  1TNCII,    Oil    TIIK    LONDON    rif.MMVAl!!.  423 


n 


ft  -^"V 

• 

•v        ' i 

;      <;;Sg5^ 

;  w  i 
^1 

'AN.-'-^ 


Way  SHOULD  NOT  ACTORS,  IN  THE  SIBSSS  OF  MODELM  COMI'ETITION,  DO  THLIB  OWN  ADVKRTISINO  ? 
THE  PROTAGONISTS  nf  PHARAOH  AND  HIS  Covnr          WHILE  LESSER   MEMBERS   OP   THE  CAST,  WITH  TUB  TITLE  or  THE  PLAT 

JIIiillT      6TKOLL      THB      WEST-END     WITH      THE'     KOW  PAINTED  ON  A  PROMINENT  PART  OF  THE  PERSON,  MIGHT   BE  TIIAINKI)  TO  CHEAT* 


POPULAR  ADVERTISEMENT-UMBUELLA. 


A  "BLOCK"  AT  PICCADILLY  CIBCUS  AND  OTHER  FAVOURABLE  CEKTBES. 


A    NIGHTMARE    OF    THE    UNDERGROUND. 

I  DREAMED  a  dreadful  dream  the  other  night ; 
I  dreamed  that  I  was  on  the  Underground — • 

One  of  those  mornings  when  you  have  to  bito 
The  fog,  not  bolt  it ;  horror  grew  around 
Such  as  in  marshy  places  men  have  found 

Or  Amazonian  forests  thick  with  vapours, 

Where  no  fires  gleam,  but  only  wandering  tapirs. 

Glow'ring  we  sat.-    But  oh,  not  all  of  us ; 
The  gangways  and  the  platforms  at  the  ends 

Were  rilled  with  careworn  spirits  dolorous 
Striving  to  find  the  halter  that  suspends, 
Who  bat-like  seized  the  shoulders  of  their  friends, 

Staggered  and  reeled  in  Dionysic  poses, 

Lit  the  wrong  pipes  and  tended  alien  noses. 

And  many  asked,  when  they  beheld  that  rout, 
What,  in  the  name  of  Styx's  ninefold  rings, 

The  Company's  directors  were  about 

Not  to  foresee  so  blank  a  state  of  things, 

And  when  the  Lord  of  Darkness  stretched  his  wings, 

Why,  for  his  sake,  they  did  not  put  more  blooming 

Carriages  on.     Yes,  most  of  us  were  fuming. 

But  I,  1  had  a  seat.     Till  suddenly 

I  saw  an  old  man  silver-haired  and  frail ; 

Not  fit  to  take  the  tango's  steps  was  he, 
Much  less  to  ride  on  that  tempestuous  rail. 
Like  a  blown  leaf  he  was,  worn  thin  and  pale, 

For  which  the  winds  6f  Autumn  chafe  and  chaffer, 

So  I  politely  rose  and  said,  "  Old  gaffer, 


Here,  take  my  seat."     I  felt  a  kindly  glow 

Suffuse  my  cheek,  I  felt  my  conscience  warmed 

By  service  to  his  venerable  woe ; 

Like  a  boy-scout,  his  day's  good  deed  performed, 
I  turned  to  join  the  shades  that  shrieked  and 
swarmed, 

While  he,  the  old  man,  like  a  gale-tossed  petal 

Squatted  with  grateful  words  upon  my  settle. 

So  far  so  good.     But  later,  when  in  pain, 

Hurled  to  the  door,  escheated  of  my  strap, 
I  saw  that  antique  buffer  disentrain, 

The  guard  saluted  him ;  he  touched  his  cap. 

"  Who 's  that  ?  "  I  asked  him.     ••  Who  is  that  old 

chap?" 
"  One  of  the   Board,"  he   said.  ...    I   howled   with 

sorrow — 
And  woke,  perspiring,  to  the  mist-veiled  morrow. 

EVOE. 

Our  readers  may  remember  that  we  called  attention  a  little 
while  ago  to  the  alleged  visit  of  Aviator  DANCOUKT  and 
Passenger  Roux  to  Belfast  on  their  way  from  Paris  to 
Cairo.  The  Cork  Constitution,  in  announcing  their  arrival 
at  Bukharest,  heads  its  paragraph  "  CAVE  TO  CAIRO  FLIGHT." 
Aviator  DANCOURT'S  generosity  in  showing  Passenger  Eoux 
all  these  interesting  towns  not  strictly  on  the  line  of  flight 
cannot  be  too  highly  praised. 


"  IMITATIONS  OF  IMMOBTALITY.— By  William  Wordsworth." 

Times  Literary  Supplement. 

So  far  WORDSWORTH'S  imitation  of  it  looks  almost  like  the 
real  thing. 


424  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  19,  1913. 


THE   "S.P.H.G." 

EVERY  sincere  and  conscientious 
attempt  to  increase  the  gaiety  of 
nations  must  merit  the  respect  that 
all  genuine  philanthropic  effort  evokes. 
The  man  who  can  make  two  smiles 
grow  where  one  grew  before  is  rightly 
entitled  to  be  regarded  as  a  public 
benefactor,  and  to  label  my  cousin 
George  Biffin  a  drone,  simply  because 
lie  is  under  no  necessity  to  work  for  a 
living,  would  be  as  unjust  as  it  is 
obviously  discourteous.  It  may,  indeed, 
l>e  safely  asserted  that  in  the 
course  of  a  brief  and  appar- 
ently otiose  existence  Cousin 
George  has  done  more  than 
most  of  his  contemporaries 
to  augment  the  sum  of  human 
happiness.  As  the  result  ol 
his  persistent  labours,  light 
and  laughter  have  invaded 
many  of  the  earth's  darkest 
and  most  desolate  places, 
while  innumerable  lost  and 
broken  souls  have  found  fresh 
comfort  and  courage  in  the 
contemplation  of  his  face- 
tious activities. 

It  is  now  some  ten  years 
since  George  was  inspired 
with  the  brilliant  notion  of 
forming  what  he  called  a 
Society  for  the  Promotion  of 
Human  Gaiety,  and  it  would 
be  no  idle  boast  to  claim  that 
during  the  whole  of  this 
happy  decade  the  Society  has 
fully  earned  the  title  so  felicit- 
ously conferred  upon  it  by 
my  cousin  at  its  inception. 
Like  all  successful  institu- 
tions the  S.P.H.G.  (to  give  it 
its  popular  name)  is  con- 
trolled by  a  small  and  select 
committee,  of  which  I  am 
the  Managing  Secretary, 
while  my  cousin  is  the  Vice- 
President,  and  to  his  aged 

mother  have  been  entrusted  the  duties 


may  occur  to  individual  tastes.  The 
cruel  hoax  is  taboo,  and  the  vulgar 
practical  joke  is  actively  discouraged. 
Any  member,  for  instance,  who  balances 
a  wet  sponge  above  his  hostess's  bed- 
room door,  lines  an  uncle's  hat  with 
mustard,  or  gratuitously  rings  a  fire 
alarm,  is  at  once  requested  to  resign 


the  space  that  separated  us  diminished. 
We  could  see  our  victim  vainly  racking 
his  brains  to  try  to  remember  who  on 
earth  the  strange  couple  could  be  who 
seemed  to  know  him  so  well,  whom  ho 
did  not  recollect  ever  having  previously 
laid  eyes  on.  He  must  finally  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 


H  v^gww  W.QUI         wv»iJVJ         uv         Ulll>         ^V^Il^l  U.O1U11         UllHll          JlG          In  (I 

But  almost  every  decent  practical  joke  probably  made  our  acquaintance  on 
of  any  importance  and  originality  sue-  j  board  ship  or  in  some  Swiss  hotel,  anc 
cessfully  perpetrated  during  the  last  j  that  his  memory  had  played  him  false 
few  years  has  been  planned  at  the  ^  for  by  the  time  he  was  within' ten 
headquarters  and  carried  out  under 'yards  of  us  he  had  made  up  his  mind 

t.lm  juisrii^rs  of  t,!io  fi.l-V TT  O  in    *lr»    ivViaf.    11710    «•  — n.. 


the  auspices  of  the  S.P.H.G 


KEEN  MOTORIST,  TAKING  HORSEBACK  EXERCISE  BY  DOCTOR'S  ORDERS 

HAS  MOMENTARY  RELAPSE    WHILE  TRYING  TO    STEER   HOUND   CORNER.' 


of  Honorary  Treasurer.  The  fact  that 
Mrs.  Biffin  is  partially  blind  and 
completely  bedridden  detracts  but 
little  from  her  capacity  to  fulfil  the 
delicate  financial  functions  associated 
with  her  office,  since,  although  she  is 
not  too  blind  to  sign  cheques,  she  is 
sufficiently  bedridden  to  be  unable  to 
spring  across  to  the  bank  and  stop 
their  payment ;  her  physical  disabilities 


George  and  I  have  always  regarded 
publicity  as  an  essential  concomitant  of 
success,  and  in  the  crowded  street  we 
find  the  most  suitable  arena  for  the 
display  of  those  mirth-provoking  quali- 
ties which  it  is  ever  our  ambition  to 
cultivate  and  develop.  It  has  long 
been  our  custom  to  devote  one  whole 
day  of  every  week  to  the  claims  of  the 
Society,  and  on  Monday  morning  last, 
when  my  cousin  called  for  me  at  my 


j.u      F  J       ".'     ™  t"V""»» uwwnuwes  wnen  my  cousin  called  for  mp  nf-  mv 


annually  and  unanimously  re-elected. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  explain  that 
the  by-laws  and   regulations   of   the 
Society  are  all  framed  with  one  object 
namely  to  stimulate  healthy   human 
laughter  by  any  innocent  means  that 


mind  to  carry  out  the  harmless  project 
that  we  had  already  carefully  discussed. 
Selecting  the  first  innocent  stranger 
whom  weobserved  approaching  in  the 
distance,  we  fixed  him  with  a  radiant 
smile,  which  increased  in  cordiality  as 


~~ l_    "   ^j  nium 

I  to  do  what  was  apparently  expected 
of  him,  and  his  face  lit  up 
with  a  polite  but  somewhat 
nervous  grin  of  recognition. 

This  was,  of  course,  the 
signal  for  George  and  me  to 
assume  a  look  of  frigid  hos- 
tility, and,  glaring  ferociously 
at  the  unfortunate  man,  as 
though  indignant  at  his  im- 
pertinence, we  passed  him 
coldly  by.  It  was  pathetic  to 
watch  our  victim's  genial 
smile  freeze  upon  his  lips; 
and,  when  he  looked  round 
and  saw  us  smiling  at  some- 
one further  up  the  street,  he 
seemed  inclined  to  kick  him- 
self with  annoyance. 

George    and     I    repeated 
this   process    with   different 
[strangers   until   we   reached 
j  Trafalgar  Square,  buoyed  up 
jthe  while  with  theconscious- 
ness  that  we  were  supplying 
:  our     various    victims     with 
stories  to  tell  to  their  wives 
when  they  reached  home,  and 
thus    infusing     gaiety     and 
colour  into  many  an  other- 
wise drab  and  dreary  house- 
hold. 

A  strong  gale  was  blowing 
round  the  base  of  Nelson's 
Column,  and,  as  we  stationed 
ourselves  at  the  breeziest 
corner  of  the  plinth,  my 
cousin  and  I  foresaw  that  we  should 
not  have  long  to  wait  before  carrying 
out  the  second  part  of  our  morning's 
programme.  In  less  than  ten  minufes 
a  particularly  violent  gust  of  wind  swept 
down  the  square  and,  as  we  had  hoped, 
lifted  the  hat  from  an  old  gentleman's 
head  and  bore  it  gracefully  away  to- 
wards Charing  Cross.  Before  its  owner 
had  time  to  start  in  pursuit  I  was  at  his 
elbow  and  had  placed  a  delaying  hand 
upon  his  shoulder. 

"What  is  it  ?  "  he  inquired  pettishly, 
while  the  truant  hat  careered  madly 
across  the  path  of  approaching  omni- 
buses. 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  remarked  politely, 
'but  1  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you. 
Your  hat  has  blown  off." 


19,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


425 


Agile  Footman  (candidate  for  Olympic  sprinting  lionours).  "  MB.  JEXKIXS,  M'LADY." 


With  a  muttered  oath  the  old  gentle- 
man shook  me  off,  and  was  once  more 
about  to  dart  away  in  pursuit  of  his 
headgear  when  George  stepped  suddenly 
in  front  of  him. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  roared  the  old 
gentleman,  by  this  time  completely 
upset. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  George  in 
his  suavesfc  tones.  "  I  trust  you  will 
forgive  me  for  mentioning  it,  but  I  felt 
you  would  like  to  be  told.  The  fact  is, 
Sir,  your — your  hat  has  blown  off." 

At  this  moment  a  gallant  policeman, 
risking  his  life  in  a  worthy  cause, 
succeeded  in  disentangling  the  elusive 
topper  from  the  mudguard  of  a  Na- 
tional Steam  Car,  and  bore  it  towards 
us  in  a  much  battered  but  not  irrepar- 
able condition ;  and  if  you  could  have 
seen  the  tears  of  joy  that  filled  the 
eyes  of  hardened  bus-conductors,  the 
smiles  that  illumined  the  faces  of  weary 
bank-clerks  on  their  way  to  work,  as 
they  listened  to  our  old  gentleman's 
views  on  the  folly  of  well-meaning 
officiousness,  you  would  have  realised 
that  our  efforts  had  not  been  vain,  and 
that  many  a  human  being  that  day 
had  good  cause  to  bless  the  ceaseless 
activities  of  the  Society  for  the  Promo- 
tion of  Human  Gaiety. 


THE  TEEROE. 
The  Sicankington  Estate  to  Mr.  John 

Smith. 
Swankington  Estate  Office. 

DEAR  SIR, — On  behalf  of  his  Grace 
the  Duke  of  Swankington  we  beg  to 
remind  you  that  the  lease  under  the 
terms  of  which  you  occupy  premises 
in  Swank  Street,  \V.,  granted  by  us 
twenty-one  years  ago,  will  expire  on 
September  29th  next,  and  we  have  to 
state  that  we  shall  be  happy  to  renew 
it  on  the  following  very  reasonable 
terms,  viz. : 

The  rent  to  be  increased  by  £1,200 
per  annum. 

As  you  are  aware,  the  value  of  the 
premises  has  greatly  appreciated  since 
your  occupancy.  The  new  stone  face 
which  you  have  added  is  an  improve- 
ment which  alone  justifies  us  in  asking 
this  small  additional  sum  in  rent.  Your 
installation  of  a  modernised  electric 
lighting  system  has  also  added  so  much 
to  the  value  of  the  premises  that  we  are 
not  satisfied  that  we  are  doing  ourselves 
justice  in  the  matter.  Still,  as  you  are 
an  old  tenant,  we  should  wish  to  treat 
you  as  generously  as  possible. 

Yours  faithfully, 
THE  SWANKINGTON  ESTATE  OFFICE. 


Mr.  John  Smith  to  the  Swankington 

Estate  Office. 

DEAB  SIRS, — I  have  received  your 
letter  and  I  'm  going  to  tell  LLOYD 
GEORGE.  Yours  faithfully, 

J.  SMITH. 

Telegram  to  "  Smith,  Swank  Street,  W." 

Do    nothing    till    you    receive    our 

letter. — SWANKINGTON  ESTATE  OFFICE. 

The  Swankington  Estate  Office  to 

Mr.  John  Smith. 

SIB, — We  beg  respectfully  to  acknow- 
ledge your  letter,  and  sincerely  apologise 
to  you  if  anything  we  said  therein  gave 
you  cause  for  anxiety.  Having  care- 
fully reconsidered  your  case,  we  have 
decided  not  only  to  remit  the  proposed 
increase  but  to  reduce  your  rent  by 
one-half.  Hoping  to  learn  that  you 
are  not  proceeding  to  take  the  extreme 
step  indicated  in  your  letter,  we  beg  to 
remain,  Sir,  Yours  respectfully, 
THE  SWANKINGTON  ESTATE  OFFICE. 

"  An  unpaced  cycle  ride  of  27  miles  355 
yards  is  the  wonderful  performance  accom- 
plished by  II.  Bcrthct  at  Paris  recently." 

Times  of  Ceylon. 

This  is  nothing.  We  once  rode  by  our- 
selves from  London  to  Brighton,  a 
distance  of  more  than  fifty  miles. 


426 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBER  19,  1913. 


A   BREATH   OF   LIFE. 

Tins  is  the  story  of  a  comedy  which 
nearly  tx>came  a  brogedy.  In  its  way 
it  is  rather  a  pathetic  story. 

The  comedy  was  called  Tht  Woning 
,./'  Win  it  red.  K  wns  written  by  an 
author  whose  name  I  forget ;  produced 
by  the  well-known  and  (as  his  press- 
ag.'iit  lias  often  told  us)  popular  actor- 
managcr,  Mr.  I.eviuski;  and  played  by 
(among  others)  that  very  charming 
young  man,  Prosper  Vane  —  known 
locally  as  Alfred  Briggs  until  he  took 
to  the  stage.  Prosper  played  the 
young  hero,  Dick  Sen  tun,  who  was 
actually  wooing  Winifred,  Mr.  Levin- 
ski  himself  took  the  part  of  a  middle- 
aged  man  of  the  world  with  a  slight 
c»i/;on]>oint ;  down  in  the  programme  as 
Sir  Gi'iiffi'i'i/  Throsscll,  but  fortunately 
still  Mr!'  Levinski.  His  opening  words, 
as  ho  came  on,  were,  "Ah,  Dick,  I  have 
a  note  for  you  somewhere,"  which  gave 
the  audience  an  interval  in  which  to 
welcome  him,  while  ha  felt  in  all  his 
pockets  for  the  letter.  One  can  bow 
quite  easily  while  feeling  in  one's 
pockets,  and  it  is  much  more  natural 
than  stopping  in  the  middle  of  an 
important  speech  in  order  to  acknow- 
ledge any  cheers.  The  realisation  of 
this,  by  a  dramatist,  is  what  is  called 
"  stagecraft."  In  this  case  the  audience 
could  tell  at  once  that  the  "  technique  " 
of  the  author  (whose  name  unfortun 
ately  I  forget)  was  going  to  be  all  right. 

But  perhaps  I  had  better  describe 
the  whole  play  as  shortly  as  possible, 
The  theme — as  one  guessed  from  the 
title,  even  before  the  curtain  rose — was 
the  wooing  of  Winifred.     In  the  First 
Act  Dick  proposed  to   Winifred  and 
was  refused  by  her,  not  from  lack  of 
love,  but  for  fear  lest  she  might  spoil 
his  career,  he  being  one  of  those  big- 
hearted    men    with    a    hip-pocket    to 
whom  the  open  spaces  of  the  world 
call  loudly;    whereupon  Mr.  Levinski 
took  Winifred  on  one  side  and  told  the 
audience   how,   when   he   had  been  a 
young  man,   some  good  woman  had 
refused     him     for    a    similar    reason 
and   had    been    miserable   ever   since. 
Accordingly  in  the  Second  Act  Winifred 
withdrew   her  refusal  and   offered   to 
marry    Dick,    who    declined    to    take 
advantage  of  her  offer  for  fear  that  she 
was  willing  to  marry  him  from  pity 
rather  than  from  love  ;  whereupon  Mr. 
Levinski  took  Dick  on  one  side  and 
told   the  audience  how,  when  he  had 
been  a  young  man,  he  had  refused  to 
marry  some  good  woman  (a  different 
one)   for  a   similar    reason,    and    had 
been   broken-hearted   ever  afterwards. 
In  the  Third  Act  it  really  seemed  as 
though  they  were  coming  together  at 
last;     for    at    the    beginning    of    it 


Mr.  Levinski  took  them  both  aside  and 
told  the  audience  a  parable  about 
a  buttorlly  and  a  snap-dragon,  which 
was  both  pretty  and  helpful,  and  caused 
several  middle-aged  ladies  in  the  first 
and  second  rows  of  the  upper  circle  to 
say,  "  Wliat  a  nice  man  Mr.  Lsvinski 
must  ho  at  home,  dear!  " — the  purport 
of  the  allegory  being  to  show  that  both 
Dick  and  Winifnd  were  being  very 
silly,  as  indeed  by  this  time  everybody 
but  the  author  was  aware.  Unfor- 
tunately at  that  moment  a  footman 
entered  with  a  telegram  for  Miss  Wini- 
fred, which  announced  that  she  had 
been  left  fifty  thousand  pounds  by  a 
dead  uncle  in  Australia  ;  and,  although 
Mr.  Levinski  seized  this  fresh  oppor- 
tunity to  toll  the  audience  how  in 
similar  circumstances  Pride,  to  his 
lasting  remorse,  had  kept  him  and  some 
good  woman  (a  third  one)  apart,  never- 
theless Dick  held  back  once  more,  for 
fear  lest  he  should  be  thought  to  be 
marrying  her  for  her  money.  The 
curtain  comes  down  as  ho  says,  "Good 
bye  .  .  .  Good  ber — eye."  But  there 
is  a  Fourth  Act,  and  in  the  Fourth 
Act  Mr.  Levinski  has  a  splendid 
time.  He  tells  the  audienea  two  para- 
bles— one  about  a  dahlia  and  a  sheep, 
which  I  couldn't  quite  follow— and 
three  reminiscences  of  life  in  India; 
he  brings  together  finally  and  for  ever 
these  hesitating  lovers;  and,  best  of  all, 
he  has  a  magnificent  love-scene  of  his 
own  with  a  pretty  widow,  in  which  we 
see,  for  the  first  time  in  the  play,  how 
love  should  really  be  made — not  boy- 
and  -  girl  pretty  -  pretty  love,  but  the 
deep  emotion  felt  (and  with  occasional 
lapses  of  memory  explained)  by  a 
middle-aged  man  with  a  slight  embon- 
point who  has  knocked  about  the 
world  a  bit  and  knows  life.  Mr. 
Levinski,  I  need  not  say,  was  at  bis 
best  in  this  Act. 

I  met  Prosper  Vane  at  the  club  some 
ten  days  before  the  first  night,  and 
asked  him  how  rehearsals  were  going. 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  he  said.  "  But  it 's 
a  rotten  play.  I  've  got  such  a  dashed 
silly  part." 

"From  what  you  told  me,"  I  said, 
"  it  sounded  rather  good." 

"  It 's  so  dashed  unnatural.  For 
three  whole  Acts  this  girl  and  I  are  in 
love  with  each  other,  and  wo  know 
we  're  iu  love  with  each  other,  and  yet 
we  simply  fool  about.  She  's  a  dashed 
pretty  girl,  too,  my  boy.  In  real  life 
I  'd  jolly  soon " 

"My  dear  Alfred,"  I  protested, 
"  you  're  not  going  to  fall  in  love  with 
the  girl  you  have  to  fall  in  love  with  on 
the  stage?  I  thought  actors  never  did 
that." 

"  They  do  sometimes ;  it 's  a  dashed 


good  advertisement.  Anyway,  it 's  a 
silly  part,  and  I  'm  fed  up  with  it." 

"  Yes,  but  do  be  reasonable.  If  Dick 
got  engaged  at  once  to  Winifred  what 
would  happen  to  Levinski?  He'd 
have  nothing  to  do." 

Prosper  Vane  grunted.  As  lie  seemed 
disinclined  for  further  conversation  I 
left  him. 

***** 

The  opening  night  came,  and  the 
usual  distinguished  and  fashionable 
audience  (including  myself),  such  as 
habitually  attends  Mr.  Levinski's  1'nsL 
nights,  settled  down  to  enjoy  itself. 
Two  Acts  went  well.  At  the  end  of 
each  Mr.  Levinski  came  before  the 
curtain  and  bowed  to  us,  and  we  had 
the  honour  of  clapping  him  loud  and 
long.  Then  the  Third  Act  began.  .  .  . 

Now  this  is  how  the  Third  Act  ends  — 
Exit  Sir  Geoffre}'. 

Winifred  (breaking  the  silence).  Dick, 
you  heard  what  he  said.  Don't  let  this 
silly  money  come  between  us.  1  have 
told  you  I  love  you,  dear.  Won't  you — 
won't  you  speak  to  me  ? 

Dick.  Winifred,  I—  (He  gets  up 

and  u-alks  round  the  room,  his  brow 
knotted,  his  right  fist  occasionally  strik- 
ing his  left  palm.  Finally  hi:  comes  to  a 
stand  in  front  of  her.)  Winifred,  I 


(Hc  raises  Jtis  arms  slowly  at  right  angles 
to  his  body  and  lets  them  fail  heavily 
down  again.)  I  can't.  (In  a  low  hoarse 
voice)  1— can't !  (Re  stands  for  a  mo- 
ment u-ith  bent  head  ;  then  with  a  jerk 
he  pulls  himself  together.)  Good-bye  ! 
(His  hands  go  out  to  her,  but  he  draws 
them  back  as  if  frightened  to  touch  her. 
Nobly)  Good  ber-eye. 

[He  squares  his  shoulders  and  stands 
looking  at  the  audience  icith  his: 
chin  in  the  air;  then  with  a  shrug 
of  -utter  despair,  which  would  bring 
tears  into  the  eyes  of  any  young 
thing  in  the  pit,  he  turns  anil  with 
bent  head  walks  slowly  out. 

CTRTAIN. 

That  is  how  the  Third  Act  ends. 
I  went  to  the  dress  rehearsal,  and  so  I 
know. 

How  the  accident  happened  I  do  not 
know.  I  suppose  Prosper  was  ner- 
vous ;  I  am  sure  he  was  very  much  in 
love.  Anyhow,  this  is  how,  on  that 
famous  first-night,  the  Third  Act 
ended  : — 

Exit  Sir  Geoffrey. 

Winifred  (breaking  the  silence).  Dick, 
you  heard  what  he  said.  Don't  let  this 
silly  money  come  between  us.  I  have 
told  you  I  love  you,  dear.  Won't  you — 
won't  you  speak  to  me  '.' 

Dick  (jumping  up).  Winifred  I— 
(with  a  great  gulp)  i  LOVE  YOU  ! ! ! 

Whereupon  he  picked  her  up  in  his 
arms  and  carried  her  triumphantly  off 


19,  1913.1          PUNCH,   OR  TIIK  LONDON   CJLVRIVARI. 


427 


THE    FASHIONABLE    AGE    TO    MARRY. 

IT  is  WITH  PLEASURE  THAT  WE  ARE  ABLE  TO  RECORD  THE  CULMINATION  OP  A  TENDER  EOMANCS  ix  THE  MAIUUAGK,  LAST  WEEK, 

OF  OUB  DEPUTY   SUB-ASSISTANT   INK-MIXER   (PENSIONER)   TO  OUR  AUXILIABY   CHAR   (RETII1ED). 


the  stage  .  .  .  and  after  a  little  natural 
hesitation  the  curtain  came  down. 

Behind  the  scenes  all  was  conster- 
nation. Mr.  Levinski  (absolutely  furi- 
ous) had  a  hasty  consultation  with  the 
author  (also  furious),  in  the  course  of 
which  they  both  saw  that  the  Fourth 
Act  as  written  was  now  an  impossi- 
bility. Poor  Prosper,  who  had  almost 
immediately  recovered  his  sanity,  trem- 
blingly suggested  that  Mr.  Levinski 
should  announce  that,  owing  to  the 
sudden  illness  of  Mr.  Vane,  the  Fourth 
Act  could  not  be  given.  Mr.  Levinski 
was  kind  enough  to  consider  this 
suggestion  not  entirely  stupid  ;  his  own 
idea  having  been  (very  regretfully)  to 
leave  out  the  two  parables  and  three 
reminiscences  from  India  and  concen- 
trate on  the  love-scene  with  the  widow. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said.  "  Your  plan  is 
better.  I  will  say  you  are  ill.  It  is 
ttuo;  you  are  mad.  To-morrow  we 
will  play  it  as  it  was  written." 

"  You  can't,"  said  the  author  gloomily. 
"  The  critics  won't  como  till  the  Fourth 
Act,  and  they  11  assume  that  the  Third 
Act  ended  as  it  did  to-night.  The 
Fourth  Act  will  seem  all  nonsense  to 
them." 

"  True.  And  I  was  so  good,  so  much 
myself,  in  that  Act."  lie  turned  to 
Prosper.  "You — fool!"  he  hissed. 


Or  there 's  another  way,"  began  the  1  dance  which  was  soon  to  be  the  rage 
author.     "  We  might —  of  society.     But  though,  as  a  result, 

And  then  a  gentleman  in  the  gallery  the  takings  of  the  Box  Office  surpassed 
settled  it  from  the  front  of  the  curtain,  j  all  Mr.  Levinski's  previous  records,  our 
There  was  nothing  in  the  programme !  friend  Prosper  Vane  received  no  prac- 
to  show  that  the  play  was  in  four  Acts. '  tical  acknowledgment  of  his  services. 
"  The  Time  is  the  present-day  and  the 
Scene  is  in  Sir  Geoffrey  Throssell's 
town-house,"  was  all  it  said.  And  the 


gentleman  in  the  gallery,  thinking  it 
was  all  over,  and  being  pleased  with 
the  play  and  particularly  with  the 
realism  of  the  last  moment  of  it, 
shouted  ".1  uthor!  "And  suddenly  every- 
body else  cried  "Author!  Author!" 
The  play  was  ended. 

I  said  that  this  was  the  story  of  a 
comedy  which  nearly  became  a  tragedy. 
But  it  turned  out  to  be  no  tragedy  at 
all.  In  the  three  Acts  to  which  Prosper 
Vane  had  condemned  it  the  play 
appealed  to  both  critics  and  public; 
for  the  Fourth  Act  (as  he  recognised 
so  clearly)  was  unnecessary,  and  would 
have  spoilt  the  balance  of  it  entirely. 
Best  of  all,  the  shortening  of  the  play 
demanded  that  some  entertainment 
should  be  provided  in  front  of  it,  and  j 
this  enabled  Mr.  Levinski  to  introduce  \ 
to  the  public  Professor  Wollabollacolla ! 
and  Princess  Collabollawolla,  the  fam- 
ous exponents  of  the  Bongo-Bongo, 
that  fascinating  Central  African  war.. 


He  had  to  bo  content  with  the  hand 
and  heart  of  the  lady  who  played 
Winifred,  and  the  fact  that  Mr.  Levinski 
was  good  enough  to  attend  the  wedding. 
There  was,  in  fact,  a  photograph  in  all 
the  papers  of  Mr.  Levinski  doing  it. 

A.  A.  M. 


TO  CYNTHIA, 

WHO   MAY   COMMAND   HIM    ALMOST 
ANYTHING. 

DEAR,  when  amid  the  babel, 

Raucous  and  insincere, 
That  rules  the  dinner-tabla 

You  whisper  in  my  ear 
With  breath  so  sweetly  bated 

Words  only  meant  for  mo, 
I  feel  myself  translated 

To  realms  of  chivalry. 

Do  you  require  a  token 

Of  such  a  love  as  mine? 
The  many  vows  I  've  spoken 

My  deeds  shall  underline. 
But  though,  as  your  defender, 

My  very  life  I  '11  yield, 
One  thing  I  icon't  surrender — 

The  walnut  1  've  just  peeled. 


423 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOTEMBEB  19,  1913. 


Little  Girl  (fortissimo).  "  OH  I  LOOK,  MOTHER,  THERE'S  A  L\DY  SELLING  FUKS." 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  PRESS. 

THE  Ape  and  I  wrote  the  whole  of  the 
first  number  ourselves,  but  after  that 
we  used  to  take  outside  contributions, 
only  of  course  we  made  chaps  pay  to 
get  their  things  into  the  paper,  except 
advertisements.  We  found  we  had  to 
pay  for  them  or  we  shouldn't  have  got 
any,  and  a  paper  looks  rotten  without 
advertisements.  It  was  called  Bilge, 
and  it  came  out  whenever  we  had 
enough  money  to  pay  the  printer. 
Later  on  we  got  old  Clai'ke — he  's  the 
Fourth  Form  master  and  he  really  was 
pretty  decent  about  it — to  guarantee  the 
thing  up  to  ten  bob,  and  then  we  could 
go  to  press  on  the  off-chance  of  selling 
enough  copies  to  make  up  the  amount. 
The  Ape  invented  a  splendid  motto 
that  was  always  put  at  the  top  of  the 
front  sheet :  "  What  the  Lower  School 
thinks  to-day  the  Sixth  will  think 
to-morrow." 

He  always  put  in  a  good  deal  of  news, 
of  course.  When  the  Under  Fifteen 
team  played  the  Lunatic  Asylum  he 
had  an  account  running  to  at  least  two 
columns ;  and  then  he  used  to  put  a 
rotten  little  paragraph  in  a  corner 
called  "Other  Matches,"  just  giving 
the  scores  of  the  First  and  Second.  Of 
course  that  made  them  rather  mad. 
We  had  any  amount  of  poetry,  in  fact 


we  got  so  much  of  it  that  we  put  up 
our  prices ;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  we 
got  the  best  stuff  in  that  way,  because, 
as  I  pointed  out  to  the  Ape,  the  chaps 
that  have  the  most  money  aren't  always 
the  best  poets.  It  doesn't  follow,  I 
mean. 

But  the  chief  object  of  the  paper  was 
to  show  up  abuses,  which  the  Ape  says 
is  the  highest  mission  of  the  Press. 

One  of  the  Ape's  best  ideas  was  his 
series  of  Character  Studies  of  the 
Prefects.  They  used  to  make  it  sell  like 
hot  cakes  sometimes.  He  called  them 
"  The  Man  of  the  Week,"  and  they  were 
supposed  to  be  interviews.  They  were 
frightfully  clever  and  sarcastic,  but  the 
Ape  is  an  extraordinarily  brainy  chap. 
After  a  time  the  prefects  hardly  dared 
to  touch  him,  because  if  one  of  them 
licked  him  he  used  to  put  in  little 
snipey  paragraphs  about  his  batting 
average  or  his  voice  (if  he  was  in  the 
choir)  or  the  colour  of  his  hair.  And 
then  he  often  got  licked  again  for 
cheek. 

Of  course  the  whole  thing  was  sup- 
pressed at  last.  That 's  the  worst  of 
this  place.  They  can't  stand  hearing 
the  truth.  The  Ape  had  started  a  new 
column  called  "  Things  they  do  better 
in  Other  Schools."  Of  course  he  didn't 
know  anything  about  other  schools,  tut 
that  didn't  bother  him.  And  in  one 


number  he  showed  up  all  sorts  of  things 
— the  butter,  which  certainly  had  been 
putrid  for  weeks,  and  the  clock  in  the 
tower  of  the  Pav.  that  doesn't  go,  and 
a  shirt  of  his  that  was  lost  in  the  wash, 
and  the  electric  light  in  the  Gimmy, 
and  the  chimney  in  the  Fourth  Form 
room,  and  the  rotten  supply  of  new 
fives  balls,  and  the  beastly  uncomfort- 
able seats  in  the  chapel.  I  think  that 
number  would  probably  have  finished 
us  in  any  case,  but  it  also  had  an 
Editorial  which  even  I  thought  was  a 
bit  parsonal. 

"  Of  course  we  don't  wish  to  impute 
anything,"  it  began  (the  Ape  was 
always  using  "impute"),  "but  it  is  a 
coincidence  that  the  whole  of  the  funds 
of  this  newspaper,  amounting  at  the 
time  to  3s.  5d.,  should  have  disappeared 
on  the  same  day  on  which  Mr.  Binks, 
our  late  Third  Form  master,  sailed  for 
America." 

That  finished  it.  The  Ape  will  have 
to  try  to  think  of  something  else. 


From  a  Baboo  letter  received  from 
an  applicant  who  was  selected  for  the 
Police  Training  School : — • 

"Your  honour  is,  I  may  say,  the  Hen  of 
Benevolence.  If  your  honour  will  consent  to 
continue  to  sit  upon  this  poor  egg,  there  is 
great  hope  that  it  will  hatch  into  efficient 
police-officer." 


PUNCH.  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— NOVEMBER  19.  1913. 


YOKKSHIRE    RELISH. 

PRIME   MINISTER  (to   CHIEF  LIBERAL  WHIP).  "DISTRACT    ME.    PERCY;    DISTRACT    ME    WITH 
SONGS    OF    KEIGHLEY;     DO    NOT    FEAR    TO    OVERDO    IT." 


r.MBF.n  19,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


431 


Our  Host.  "BEFORE  PRESENTING  THE  PHIZES  TO  THE  WINNERS  I  SHOULD  LIKE  TO  REMARK  OX  AS  INTERESTING — AH — NOT  TO 
BAY  CURIOUS  OCCURRENCE — AT  THIS  NUMBER  FOUR,  THE  'TEST  OF  SMELL,"  TABLE.  QUITE  NINETY  PER  CEXT.  OF  YOU  MISTOOK  THK 
PORT  FOR  METHYLATED  SPIRIT,  AND  WHAT  MAKES  THIS  MISTAKE  SO  REMARKABLE  IS  THAT  IT  ?S  T1IE  VEBY  PORT  YOU  UAD  jtT  VIKKKB." 


BRANDY. 

(A  hill-man.) 

GRIZZLED  and  stiff  with  his  eight  De- 
cembers 

The  old  dog  hobhles  across  the  yard, 

Eyes  blood-shottten  and  red  as  embers, 

Coat  worn  thin  and  a  face  he-scarred  ; 

Poor  old  handy  dog,  poor  old  Brandy 

dog, 
Full  of  battles  and  fights  fought  hard. 

Time  to  sit  in  the  cosy  ingle? 

Time  to  curl  on  the  roe-skin  mat  ? 
Where  the  warrior  dreams  shall  mingle 

Fox  and  otter  and  mountain-cat? 
Torn  ears  cock  to  them,  grim  jaws  lock 
to  them 

(Devil  a  doubt — you'd  say — of  that!). 

"  Passed  your  bsst,"  so  tha  critic  said 

it, 

"  Bit  too  old  for  the  hill,"  said  he; 
"  Liked  the  looks  of  you  "  (to  his  credit, 

Captious  Sassenach  though  he  be)  ; 
That 's  his  say  of  it,  that 's  the  way 

of  it  ? 
Let   him   climb   to    the  cairns   and 

S36. 


Cairns  and  crags  where  the  snow-flake 
flurries, 

Coigns  where  the  great  hill-foxes  grin, 
Hostile  caves  of  a  hundred  worries — 

Take  the  terriers,  huic  them  in  ; 
Lithe  and  little  dogs,  keen  and  kittle  dogs, 

Two  twin  devils  that  thrust  and  pin ! 

Hark,  they  "re  up  to  him,  hot  and  deadly 
(Hark,  and  hear  it,  and  hold  your 

breath) ; 
Yards  below  how  the  fight  roars  redly — 

Gallant  Besom  and  little  Beth  ; 
Hark  the  noise  of  'em,  hark  the  joys  of 

'em, 
Battle,  murder  and  sudden  death  ! 

Beat,  though — out  again,  bristling, 

bleeding, 
Lost  him  somehow  (your  young  'uns 

can) ; 
Pick  them  up,  they  shall  prove  their 

breeding 

Yet  with  many  a  cateran ; 
"  Now,  old  pup,  to  him !  in,  and  up  to 

him  ! 
Leu  in,  Brandy  !  leu  in,  old  man !  " 

Mute  and  murderous,  in  he  bustles ; 
Never  a  whimper  boasts  he 's  found ; 


Only  an  eerie  wind  that  rustles, 

Moans  and   moils  as  the  flasks  go 
round ; 

Dark  and  chill  it  is,  on  the  hill  it  is. 
Yes,  but  the  old  dog 's  still  to  ground ! 

Out  at  last  crawls  the  grim  old  savage, 
Red  as  ribbons  from  crest  to  pad  ; 

One  hill-robber  no  more  shall  ravage — 
Had  the  brush  of  him,  eh,  old  lad  ? 

Lord,  no  fears  o'  you,  eight  hard  years 

o'  you ; 
Wouldn't  'a'  left  him  'less  you  had  ! 

Gri/zled  and  stiff  with  his  long  De- 
cembers, 

The  old  dog  hirples  adown  the  hill. 
Eyes  blood-shotten  and  red  as  embers, 

Rumbling  yet  of  the  grip  and  kill ; 
Poor  old  Brandy  dog,  poor  old  bandy 

dog. 
Worth  the  pick  of  the  young  'uns  still ! 


"  Priest  wanted  January  or  earlier,  through 
preferment.     £180— i'200.     Graduate,  singlo. 
active,  good  clear  voice.     Married  if  possible." 
Aili-l.  in  "Church  Times." 

For  a  single  man  we  are  afraid  it  is  not 
possible. 


432 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBER  19.  1913. 


THE    HAT-HUNTER. 

DEAR  MR.  EDITOR, — I  know  you 
iuncli.  These  facts  do  r.ot  escape  inc. 
I  have  even  imagined  your  doing  it  to 
rhyme  and  bringing  the  matter  to  a 
logical  conclusion  by  amplifying  your 
name  into  Mr.  Puncheon.  I  also  know 
that  you  do  it  sometimes  at  the  Inner 
Tcinplo  Hall,  and  have  actually  seen 
you  informing  a  bored  and  apathetic 
clerk  at  the  pay  desk  what  you  have 
t-ateu  (this  between  you  and  him,  in 
the  strictest  confidence). 
Possibly  your  readers  also 
lunch ;  but  they  do  not  all 
perform  that  feat  in  that 
JIall.  It  is  therefore  neces- 
sary for  rue  to  explain  that 
Templars  who  arrive  in 
hats  and  remove  them  for 
luncheon  purposes  place 
them  on  a  side  table,  unless 
they  are  lucky  enough  to 
secure  one  of  the  few  pegs. 
Among  these  said  Templars 
are,  as  often  as  not,  myself 
and  my  friend  Carr. 

Any  man  can  lunch,  but 
it  takes  a  genius  to  select 
his  hat  afterwards  from  a 
mass  of  some  hundreds,  the 
names  of  which,  if  they  are 
there.it  is  next  to  impossible 
to  read.  Genius  is  a  matter 
of  instinct,  and  it  is  an 
instinct  which  all  of  us  at 
the  Temple,  except  Carr, 
possess.  When  he  began 
the  lunching  habit,  he  used 
to  manage  the  hat  selection 
all  right,  because  he  care- 
fully chose  his  spot  to  begin 
with,  sat  firmly  opposite  it 
to  go  on  with,  and  for  the 
rest  concentrated  his  atten- 
tion on  it  till  the  end,  to 
the  exclusion  of  a  considered 
ordering  and  a  proper  enjoy- 
ment of  his  victuals.  When 
we  used  to  talk  to  him  in 
those  days,  we  never  got  his  undivided 
attention.  I  of  all  his  fellow-lunchers 
was  the  first  to  distract  him.  I  engaged 
him  in  -conversation  on  this  very  sub- 
ject of  hats  and  he  became  so  engrossed 
in  describing  his  method  of  identifica- 
tion that  he  forgot  to  carry  it  out.  It 
was  only  by  thinking  backwards,  by 
reminding  himself  of  the  site  of  his 
past  meal  and  looking  inside  every  hat 
that  could  possibly  be  said  to  be 
opposite  that  site,  that  he  ever  found 
it  again. 

That  event  alarmed  Carr.  He  posi- 
tively refused  for  a  while  to  speak  to 
any  of  us  between  the  doffing  and  the 
donning  of  his  hat.  We  took  exception 
to  this  and  for  a  few  days  lie  lunched 


with  his  hat  on.  But  some  casual 
person,  noting  the  fact,  chatted  him 
about  it.  "  Hallo,  old  man  !  are  things 
as  busy  with  you  as  all  that  ?  "  Carr 
is  very  sensitive.  The  bare  suspicion 
of  his  deliberately  keeping  his  hat  on 
to  identify  himself  with  the  brisker 
practices  and  to  suggest  the  inference 
that  he  could  only  just  snatch  time  for 
lunch  and  none  for  removing  hats,  was 
repugnant  to  him.  He  gave  up  trying 
to  avoid  the  problem  and  returned  to 
his  effort  to  solve  it. 


one  to  find  both  the  hats,  since  he  had 
seen  to  it  when  he  came  in  that  both 
were  together. 

The  other  day  he  nearly  had  an  acci- 
dent. He  informed  Baxter,  just  before 
the  decisive  moment,  that  he  was  de- 
pending on  him,  for  Baxter  can,  he 
says,  always  find  his  own  hat  on  the 
unconscious  impulse  of  the  moment. 
But  the  responsibility  of  having  to  find 
two  hats  unmanned  even  Baxter,  and 
as  the  two  stood  or  fell  together  there 


D 


must  have  been  a  double  disaster  but 
for  a  bit  of  luck.  "  Ah  1 " 
said  Carr  to  the  also  hatlesr; 
and  now  nervous  Baxter. 
"  that 's  mine;  I  can  tell  it 
by  the  ribbon;"  and  he 
grabbed  at  a  hat  v.-hich, 
though  it  turned  out,  to  be 
Baxter's,  nevertheless  put 
him  on  the  line  of  his  own. 
To-day  Baxter  told  us 
about  it  at  lunch,  and  placed 
Carr  in  another  difficulty. 
He  was  at  the  moment 
relying  on  me ;  but  to  get 
up  from  the  table  with  me 
now  might  be  to  make  me 
aware  of  my  responsibility 
and  possibly  lead  to  my 
bungling  the  affair.  So  he 
lay  low  and  let  me  go  out 
alone.  Then,  having  closely 
watched  my  movements,  he 
followed  me,  hoping  for  the 
best.  Alas,  it  was  a  mis- 
placed hope. 

I  am  told  that  the  sight 
of  him  walking  helplessly 
up  and  down  twenty  feet 
of  top-hats  (four  or  six  deep) 
was  melancholy  in  the  ex- 
treme. It  must  also,  to 
those  hat-owners  who  did 
not  know  the  scrupulous 
and  conscientious  nature  of 
Carr,  have  given  ground  for 
considerable  anxiety.  At 
any  rate,  I  met  him  later, 
moving  across  King's  Bench 
He  resorted  to  a  number  of  different  |  Walk  bare-headed  and  slightly  damped 
devices.  He  would  arrange  a  series  of  j  by  the  rain.  He  greeted  me  with  the 
other  people's  hats  upside  down  and  j  remark,  "  My  worst  fears  are  realised 


"  So,  naturalists  observe,  a  flea 
Hath  smaller  fleas  that  on  him  prey, 
And  these  have  smaller  still  to  bite  'em, 
And  so  proceed  ad  infinitum." — SWIFT. 

A.  UNITED  KINGDOM  C.  ULSTER. 

B.  IRELAND.  D.  CATHOLIC  ULSTER 


place  his  own  in  their  midst  upside 
up.  He  would  reverse  the  process. 
This  failing  by  reason  of  the  mutability 
of  hats,  he  resorted  to  the  device  of 
going  without  lunch.  Not  being  able 
to  bsar  that,  he  tried  lunching  else- 
where. Not  being  able  to  bear  that, 
he  joined  us  once  more,  adopting  yet 
another  system.  He  would  wait  out- 
side Hall  for  one  of  us,  go  in  with  that 
one,  and  stick  to  him  through  the  thick 
and  thin  of  the  meal,  sitting  on,  or  even 
leaving  before  his  appetite  was  appeased, 
for  the  purpose  of  coming  out  with  that 
one.  By  this  means  he  left  it  to  that 


at  last ! 

As  he  told  me  this,  I  felt  glad  that  I, 
at  any  rate,  had  secured  a  hat.  Later 
investigation,  conducted  in  private, 
showed  me  that  the  hat  I  had  was 
Carr's.  Sorry  though  I  am  about  this, 
I  arn  not  going  to  tell  Carr  until  he 
has  retrieved  my  hat,  which  (I  hold)  he 
has  lost.  Can  you  please  (as  between 
barristers)  tell  me  what  is  the  law 
bearing  on  the  matter?  Otherwise  I 
shall  have  to  look  it  up,  and  I  hate 
doing  that. 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

INNER  TEMPLAR. 


NOVEMBER  19,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.. 


433 


HYGIENICS. 

MotJier  Mieerfully  to  perfect  stranger).  "Tins  OCGHTKR  BLOW  THE 


CORP  AUT  OF  *iji." 


THE    STAB    TUBN. 

JAMES  and  I  do  not  think  verv  much 
of  Ermyntrude ;  we  find  it  impossible 
to  understand  her  parents'  enthusiasm 
for  one  so  small  and,  apparently,  so 
imbecile.  Of  course  we  have  not  told 
them  of  our  perplexity,  but  we  have 
definitely  stopped  trying  to  teach  the 
thing  tricks. 

"We  tried  very  hard;  and  I  some- 
times believe  we  came  near  success. 
James  and  I  both  say  that  it  was  only 
a  matter  of  stage  fright  that  our 
respective  tricks  wouldn't  come  off 
before  an  audience.  But,  after  all, 
Ermyntrude  has  no  business  to  be 
bothered  with  stage  fright  at  her  age- 
three  months,  or  half  a  year,  or  some 
similar  age  common  in  babies. 

;  James  had  wagered  that  he  would 
perfect  Ermyntrude  in  his  trick  before 
1  got  her  ready  with  mine. 

.His  trick  was  throwing  envelopes 
into  a  waste-paper  basket;  mine  was 
simpler  but  more  rational ;  it  consisted 
in  her  accepting  my  bowler  hat  and. 
putting  her  head  in  it.  Then  I  would 
take  it  off  and  she  would  make  a  sort 
of  noise  which  passes  for  a  laugh 


among  people  of  Pirmyntrudo's  station  j 
in  life. 

I  could  not  get  her  quite  sure  of  the ; 
laugh  part,  but  in  other  respects  our; 
rehearsals  were  perfect.  James  says  i 
the  same  of  his,  but,  in  view  of  Ermyn- 
trude's  performance  on  the  day,  I  do  ; 
not  feel  quite  sure  of  James. 

When  the  day  came,  everybody  was 
there.      Mr.    and    Mrs.    Ermyntrude, 
Nancy — the  only  person  who  professes  ' 
really    to    understand    Ermyntrude — 
James    and   myself,    brothers   of    Mr. 
Ermyntrude,  and,  last  and  easily  least, ! 
Ermyntrude. 

James  won  the  toss  and  elected  to  i 
take    first    knock.      The    waste-paper  j 
basket  was  brought  and  handed  round  ;  ( 
after  inspection   it   was  deposited    in 
front  of   Ermyntrude.      It  struck  me 
that   James   had   placed   it  in  such  a ' 
position  that  any  envelope  dropped  must 
fall  into  it ;  but  I  said  nothing. 

He  began  with  an  ordinary  envelope, ' 
that    had    been     through     the     post. 
Ermyntrude  received  it  gravely,   took 
one  look  at  the  basket,  turned  to  the ! 
right  and  dropped  the  envelope  over  the  | 
side  of  her  chair.     He  plied  her  with  j 
an  income-tax-return  envelope ;  with  a ; 


large  manila  at  fourpence  the  packet; 
and  with  a  stamped  envelope  as  yet 
unemployed.  The  first  two  went  over 
the  side  of  the  chair;  the  stamp  attracted 
her,  and  she  sucked  it  until  her  parents 
summarily  stopped  play.  James  objected 
to  having  his  innings  declared  closed, 
but  was  over-ruled  by  a  huge  majority. 

After  a  brief  interval,  I  approached 
with  my  bowler  hat  on  my  head.  I 
smiled;  Ermyntrudo smiled.  I  took  off 
the  hatund  showed  it  to  her;  Ermyn- 
trude hold  out  her  hands  with  an 
understanding  glance.  I  placed  the  hat 
in  them  with  every  confidence.  The 
five  shillings  were  as  good  as  mine. 

Without  a  sound,  but  still  smiling, 
Ermyntrude  leaned  over  and  dropped 
my  hat  into  the  waste-paper  basket. 
Then  she  laughed. 


Clause  3,  rule  16  of  the  Stock  Ex- 
change, according  to  The  AlancltesU-r 
(iiianlian  : — 

"  The  Committee  may  expel  or  suspend  any 
member  who  may  bo  guilty  of  honourable  or 
disgraceful  conduct." 

The  golden  mean  between  those  two 
extremes  is  the  safest  on  the  Stock 
Exchange. 


434 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  19,  1913. 


CONCERNING    PHEASANTS. 

TiiKiii:  i-;  not  going  to  be  anything  about  inangel-wurzels 
in  these  notss,  though  there  will  be  remarks  about  othe 
matters   which   do   not,  at   first   sight,    seem   to   concerr 
pheasants.      Leaves   for  instance.      Everybody   whp  goes 
out  to  shoot  pheasants  must  be  prepared  with  bis  little  bi 
of  leaf-lore.     This  is  approximately  how  it  goes  : — 

1st  Gun.  It 's  quite  extraordinary  bow  the  leaves  bang 
on  this  year.  Standing  in  covert  you  can't  see  the  birds 
till  they  're  right  on  top  of  you. 

2nd  Gun.  "it 'a  the  same  all  over  the  country.  I  was 
shooting  in  BLinkshire  the  day  before  yesterday  and  there 
u  a.-,  hardly  a  leaf  off  any  of  the  trees. 

1st  Gun.  It 's  these  mild  autumns  that  do  the  mischief, 
What  we  want  is  two  or  three  nights  of  sharp  frost  and  a 
gale  of  wind  on  the  top  of  that. 

2nd  (fun.  The  weather  isn't  what  it  used  to  be. 
lit  Gun.  No,  you  're  right  there. 
So  much  for  leaves.  Next  let  us  take  the  subject  ol 
luncheon.  It  is,  I  think,  reasonably  accurate  to  say  that  at 
1.15  the  thoughts  of  all  the  guns  begin  to  turn  irresistibly 
to  the  question  of  luncheon.  Are  we  going  to  lunch  after 
this  beat,  or  is  there — deadly  notion. — to  be  another  beat 
before  we  are  allowed  to  devote  ourselves  to  eating  ?  The 
keeper  always  wants  just  one  more  beat.  The  sportsmen 
always  want  to  eat.  A  good  luncheon  puts  even  the  worst 
shot  on  easy  terms  with  himself.  But  what  is  a  good 
luncheon  ?  I  answer  without  hesitation :  Irish-stew  is  a  good 
luncheon  ;  so  is  hot-pot ;  so  is  beef-steak  pudding  or  pie.  A 
really  good  lunch  must  show  a  lot  of  steam,  and  the  potatoes, 
whether  peeled  or  in  their  jackets,  must  be  large.  Cold 
ham  or  tongue  may  come  in  as  a  second  course,  but  the 
backbone  of  the  luncheon  must  be  hot — hot  and  steaming. 
And  there  should  be  tartlets  (preferably  with  jam  in  them) 
to  finish  up  with.  It  is  hardly  credible  bow  much  elderly 
sportsmen — I  do  not  call  them  old,  for  in  these  days  we 
must  call  no  man  old  until  he  is  dead — how  much  they 
relish  jam  tartlets.  Battered  men  of  the  world,  who  might 
be  supposed  to  have  out-grown  the  dslights  of  their  boy- 
hood, may  be  seen  munching  jam  tartlets  with  evident 
satisfaction  at  any  shooting-luncheon.  By  way  of  these 
sweets  they  return  to  a  pristine  simplicity  of  taste,  and  may 
be  heard,  while  their  mouths  are  clogged  with  strawberry 
jam,  telling  innocent  little  anecdotes  about  shooting-boots 
or  gaiters,  or  the  man  who  killed  a  rabbit  and  a  woodcock 
with  the  same  shot,  or  the  special  malignity  of  the 
pheasants  in  deciding  to  swerve  instead  of  flying  straight 
and  giving  an  honest  jam-eating  gun  a  fair  chance.  Swerve 
in  pheasants  is  an  inexhaustible  topic. 

Another  by-product  of  a  shooting -luncheon  (when  it 
takes  place  in  the  keeper's  cottage)  is  the  discussion  of  the 
keeper's  artistic  taste.  They  all  love  to  decerate  their  walls 
with  cheap  German  coloured  prints.  Imagine  a  picture  of 
a  ferociously  black-bearded  and  be-whiskered  gentleman 
dandling  on  his  knee  a  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  child  in  a 
sailor  suit.  In  another  the  same  or  a  similar  gentleman  is 
teaching  the  child  his  letters.  The  first  picture  is  called 
1  His  Motor's  Eyes  "  (the  letter  "  h  "  coming  after  "  t "  is 
Teutonically  neglected)  and  is  intended  to  show  that  Black- 
beard  once  had  a  beloved  and  blue-eyed  wife  for  whom  be 
is  now  in  mourning.  The  second  picture  is,  perhaps, 
entitled  "  In  the  Motor's  Place "  and  indicates  the  same 
domestic  tragedy.  Now  in  real  life,  if  the  keeper  chanced 
to  meet  Blackboard,  he  would  call  him  "  a  poor  furriner," 
and  despise  him  accordingly.  Meeting  him,  however, 
through  the  medium  of  art,  he  is  affected  to  the  very  depth 
of  his  honest  velveteen  soul,  and  learns  lessons  of  hope  and 
consolation  from  the  dreadful  prints. 


A    GENTLEMAN    OF    THE    HOUSE-TOP. 

THE  light  beneath  the  bushel  w-as  never  popular  with 
the  disseminators  of  literature,  but  we  have  had  to  wait 
many  years  for  such  a  desperate  signed  appeal  as  the  pub- 
lisher of  a  certain  new  work  of  sentiment  has  just  put  forth. 
It  runs  thus,  except  that  the  blanks  represent  the  name  oi 
the  book,  and  the  name  of  the  favour-asker  is  at  the  end : — 


'A  REQUEST. 


-  is  a  book  with  a  spell,  and  it  has  an  appeal 
so  tender  that  it  is  difficult  to  read  it  without  tears. 
Yet    there    is    laughter    in    its   pages,    and   to   the 
despondent  it  contains  a  great  lesson  on  the  little- 
ness of  losing  courage. 

-  radiates  a  nobility  of  spirit  which  seems  all 
too  rare  to-day,  and  I  hope  that  everyone  who  likes 
to  spread  the  news  that  a  good  book  has  come  into 
the  world   of   literature  will   help   me   to   make   it 
known."  . .   . 


Since  few  persons,  not  even  the  devisers  of  revues,  are 
more  imitative  than  advertising  publishers,  we  now  know 
what  to  expect.  Something  like  this,  for  certain  : — • 


THIS  CONCERNS  YOU  DEEPLY. 

DEAR  FRIEND, — I  want  you  to  know  that  I  have 

just  finished  reading  a  book  called ,  and  I  cannot 

rest  until  you  and  in  fact  all  the  world  have  read  it  too. 
It  is  nothing  to  me  that  I  am  also  its  publisher  and 
shall  not  do  badly  out  of  it  if  it  succeeds.  The  sole 
reason  that  I  want  you  to  read  it  is  that  it  is  a  pure 
and  tender  evangel  of  joy,  and  it  will  make  you  feel 
better.  Also  it  will  here  and  there  make  you  roar 
with  laughter,  just  as  this  advertisement  could  never 
do.  Yours  in  all  good  will,  NASHILEIGH  EVE. 


That  is  the  fairly  thorough  style  which  we  may  count  on 
very  shortly  seeing.  But  there  is  something  more  snappy 
also  to  be  done  with  a  new  book  that  has  to  be  got  down 
^  public's  throat  at  any  cost.  Thus  : — 


HERE,  YOU! 

There  's  only   one    book   worth   reading   at    this 

moment  and  it  is  called .     Now  then  ? 

NEVELEIGH  ASH. 


Finally  there  is  the  really  unctuous  : — 


HEART  TO  HEART. 

My  brethren,  do  you  want  to  read  the  most  ex- 
quisite and  intimate  story  in  the  world?  Do  you 
want  to  weep  and  smile  by  turns  and  feel  as  though 
you  were  the  darling  of  the  gods,  and  the  heir  of  the 
ages,  and  the  pick  of  the  basket,  and  the  leader  of  the 
modern  Athens  all  at  once?  Because  if  you  do 

I  have  the  very  thing  for  you.    It  is  called ;  and 

I  implore  you  to  sing  its  praises  near  and  far,  talk 
about  it  at  dinner,  ask  for  it  at  every  bookshop  and 
bookstall,  and  generally  make  it  boom,  as  I  too  am 
endeavouring  to  do.  What  does  The  Short  Cham  of 
Literature  say  about  it  in  his  Littery  Letter  ?  He 
says  that  the  author  "  has,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  pro- 
duced an  undying  classic."  And  how  can  The  Short 
Cham  be  mistaken?  So  I  beseech  you  to  let  the 
book  do  you  good,  make  you  feel  all  nice  inside,  and 
force  you  to  force  it  on  others.  ASHILEIGH  NEVE. 


NOVEMBER  19,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


435 


Polite  Motorist  (after  the  accident).  "  I  DO  TRUST  I  HAVEN'T  DAMAGED  YOUR  CHASSIS  \  " 


AGENT    TRIUMPHANT. 

Bill,  and  you,  'Erbcrt  of  the  unkempt  beard. 
Take  each  a  spade  and  delve,  until  the  earth 
Release  this  notice  of  a  house  to  let 
(Or  to  be  sold,  psrdic),  while  I  uplift 
A  lyric  pcean  on  the  proud  event. 

They  were  many  that  came  to  view, 
That  came  and  that  hastened  away  ; 
For  the  soil  was  so  palpably  clay, 

And  they  spotted  the  place  where  the  plaster  peeped  through, 
They  saw  that  the  woodwork  was  rotten, 
They  saw  that  the  banisters  trembled, 
They  saw  that  the  sink  was  forgotten, 
They  saw  that  the  tiles  of  the  hearths  had  been  cheaply 
assembled. 

The  ideal  was  their  evident  vision, 

And  they  went  in  their  wrath  and  derision. 

Some  of  them  noticed  the  range, 
Some  pulled  the  knobs  off  the  doors, 
Some  put  their  feet  through  the  floors, 
Some  of  them  thought  that  the  paint  had  the  mange, 
Some  saw  the  cracks  in  the  ceiling, 

Some  of  them  looked  for  the  larder, 
Some  said  the  papers  were  paeling, 

Some  of  them  felt  that  the  mortar  might  well  have  been 
harder ; 

And' the  house  (it  may  be  with  some  reason) 
Stayed  empty  from  season  to  season. 


Then,  then  came  the  greenhorn,  the  mug, 
The  about-to-be-married  young  man  I 
He  saw  nothing  wrong  with  the  plan, 
He  considered  the  dining-room  "  smallish  but  snug," 
He  asked  not  for  wash-house  or  kitchen, 

He  accepted  the  coal-hole  with  gladness, 
And  lastly  he  did  a  thing  which  in 

The  eyes  of  his  bride  and  his  mother  will  simply  seem 
madness : 

He  bought  (on  my  recommendation) 
This  house  without  their  approbation. 

Bill,  and  you,  'Erbcrt,  have  you  dug  it  up. 
That  board  which  seamed  so  wedded  to  the  soil  t 
Go,  bear  it  tenderly  to  other  semes. 
Chanting  the  while  a  song  of  holy  joy : 
"  A  silly  ass  'as  been  and  bought  this  'ousc — 
A  silly  ass  'as  been  and  bought  this  'ouse — 
An  'opeless  ass  'as  bought  this  bloomin'  'ouse." 


Mr.  S.  A.  MUSSABINI  in  The  Daily  Neirs: — 

"There  is  a  record  somewhere  —  I  fancy  it  was  made  by  the 
late  Scottish  champion,  J.  G.  Sala — of  over  seventy  consecutive 
losers  off  the  white  ball,  often  described  as  a  sheer  wanton  waste 
of  billiard  fikill  and  energy.  If  he  had  baen  playing  now  the  Italo- 
Scot  would  have  known  boUer  than  do  such  things.  He  would  havo 
saved  his  shots  for  the  more  prolific  points  raising  cochineal  dipped 
sphere." 

In  other  words  he  would  have  scored  off  the  red,  but  it 
would  never  do  to  say  so. 


436 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBER  19,  1013. 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

"  MAGIC." 

You  can  do  almost  anything  with 
fairies,  but  the  difficulty  is  to  find 
anything  to  do  which  hasn't  been  done 
before.  Yet  here  is  Mr.  CHESTERTON, 
in  a  trial  enterprise  on  the  stage,  bring- 
ing the  freshness  of  his  own  immortal 
childhood  to  Sir  JAMES  BARBIE'S  well- 
exploited  field,  and  treating  it  as  virgin 
soil.  And  his  sanguine-  faith  in  the 
inexhaustibility  of  its  treasures  has 
heen  justified.  Perhaps  the  most 
charming  feature  of  a  delightful  enter- 
tainmi  nt  was  the  author's  little  speech 
at  the  end.  With  a  modesty  unusual 
in  dramatic  circles,  Mr.  CHESTERTON 
disclaimed  all  merit  as  a  maker  of 
words.  His  play  he  regarded  a?  an 
amateur  piece  of  work  ;  he  had  no  gift, 
he  said,  for  composition,  whether  done 
for  the  columns  of  a  paper  or  for  the 
back  of  a  postcard ;  but  ho  did  pride 
himself  upon  his  opinions,  and  of  these 
he  was  anxious  for  us  to  approve. 

But  with  the  best  desire  in  the  world 
to  oblige  him,  it  was  impossible  for  us 
to  determine  which  his  own  opinions 
were  among  the  variety  to  which  his 
characters  gave  vent.  On  the  question 
of  miracle  and  magic  we  were  given 
choice  of  some  half-a-dozen  attitudes, 
including  the  clerical-orthodox,  the 
blasphemously  sceptical,  the  calmly 
scientific,  the  innocently  credulous,  the 
devilishly  supernatural;  and  the  only 
solid  satisfaction  to  be  got  out  of  this 
medley  of  opinions  (I  speak  for  us 
other  common  people,  and  not  for  Sir 
OLIVER  LODGE,  who  sat  there  in  his 
stall,  towering  above  us,  body  and  spirit) 
came  from  the  exponent  of  No.  5,  who 
concluded  that  it  was  better  to  marry  a 
concrete  girl  than  to  go  on  debating 
about  the  impalpable.  Even  this  was 
not  completely  satisfactory,  for  it 
meant  the  shattering  of  our  faith  in 
the  credulous  maiden  who  used  to 
take  her  Irish  temperament  out  into 
the  Park  after  dark  and  talk  with  the 
spirit-folk.  For  it  turned  out  that  the 
largest  of  the  fairies  with  whom  she 
had  consorted  (returning  from  this 
communion  with  the  rapt  face  of  a 
mystic)  was  not  a  real  fairy,  and  that 
she  had  recognised  him,  all  the  time, 
for  a  man. 

He  is,  in  fact,  no  other  than  the  con- 
jurer (known  as  The  Stranger)  whom  the 
girl's  uncle  (a  duke)  has  commissioned 
to  perform  before  the  household  and 
"brighten  things  up."  But  he  is  no 
ordinary  conjurer,  for  in  the  course  of 
learning  the  tricks  of  his  trade  ho  has 
caught  a  few  germs  of  the  Black  Ait 
and  can  do  the  most  uncanny  feats. 
The  girl's  young  brother,  fresh  from  a 
commercial  apprenticeship  in  America, 


where  he  has  shed  his  faiths  and  illusions 
and  become  clover  enough  to  tell  you, 
very  blatantly,  how  everything  is  done, 
permits  himself  to  behave  towards  the 
conjurer  in  a  most  contumelious  manner. 
In  revenge  this  Master  of  Magic  ex- 
hibits his  Black  Art,  and  one  of  his  per- 
formances— the  turning  of  the  colour 
of  a  doctor's  lamp,  half  a  mile  away, 
from  red  to  blue — is  so  inexplicable  that 
the  boy's  intellect  becomes  unhinged. 
Nothing  can  save  him  except  to  learn 
how  it  was  done.  So  the  conjurer  in- 
vents, for  his  private  ear,  a  natural 
cause  for  what  was  really  the  result  of 
devilment,  and  so  the  sceptic  is  restored 
to  sanity.  Probably  he  was  told  that 
this  changing  of  light  upon  a  little  disc 
at  the  back  of  the  scenery  had  beon 
arranged  in  collusion  with  the  property- 
man.  Certainly  that  was  my  own  un- 
aided interpretation  of  the,  mystery. 

Indeed,  Mr.  CHESTERTON'S  apparatus 
was  quite  simple  and,  though  he  may 
speak  with  disparagement  of  his  play 
as  the  work  of  an  amateur,  there  was 
trv.o  professional  art  in  the  way  in 
which,  without  ever  doing  anything 
very  magical,  he  kept  his  audience 
thrilled  with  the  sense  that  there  was 
magic  in  the  atmosphere,  and  that 
something  thrilling  might  happen  at 
any  moment.  Here  ho  was  greatly 
assisted  by  Mr.  FRANKLIN  DYALL,  who 
played  The  Stranger,  and  even  in  the 
thickest  of  the  argument  never  lost  his 
air  of  inscrutability.  Mr.  DYALL  does 
nothing  without  thought,  and  I  can  only 
suppose  that  so  intelligent  an  actor 
remains  rather  stagey  in  his  manner 
for  good  reasons  of  his  own. 

The  old  gentleman  who  lent  his  house 
and  grounds  for  the  purposes  of  the  play 
was  described  as  The  Duke.  I  do  not 
think  this  was  because,  like  WELLING- 
TON, he  overtopped  all  other  contem- 
porary dukes,  for  he  was  the  most 
improbable  of  Graces.  I  can  only 
suppose  that  Mr.  CHESTERTON  must 
have  made  him  a  duke  simply  because 
strawberry-leaves,  like  wurzels,  are  in 
the  air  just  now.  Mr.  FRED  LEWIS, 
with  his  jolly  rotundity,  did  not  make 
him  any  less  improbable,  but  he  got 
great  fun  for  us  out  of  the  Duke's  in- 
consequent association  of  ideas  and  his 
habit  of  giving  the  same  pecuniary 
support  to  the  Pros  and  Antis  of  every 
social  movement. 

The  part  of  Dr.  Grimthorpc  fitted 
that  irreproachable  actor,  Mr.  WILLIAM 
FARREN,  as  close  as  his  own  skin.  As 
the  Rev.  Cyril  Smith,  Mr.  0.  P.  HEGGIE'S 
rather  wooden  and  unemotional  style, 
with  its  suspicion  of  provincialism,  gave 
perhaps  a  stronger  force  to  his  argu- 
ments than  if  they  had  been  coloured 
by  gifts  of  refinement  or  fanaticism. 
Still  I  could  have  wished  that  he  had 


done  better  justice  to  the  lesson  ho 
delivered  from  the  Book  of  Job  as  an 
example  of  a  magic  more  irrecoverable 
than  the  greatest  of  Biblical  miracles. 

Of  the  younger  people  Mr.  LYONEL 
WATTS,  though  he  was  not  quite  the 
"little,  little  boy"  of  his  description  in 
the  pl.iy,  still  seemed  rather  too  juvenile 
for  so  fluent  a  command  of  blasphemy  ; 
and  Miss  GRACE  CROFT,  as  his  sister^ 
did  very  little  beyond  looking  intense 
and  talcing  herself  and  Mr.  CHESTERTON 
very  seriously — except  in  a  certain 
passage  to  which  I  shall  refer  in  a 
moment. 

I  think,  by  the  way,  that  the  little 
"  Prelude  "  scene,  with  the  gentleman- 
fairy  talking  spoils  in  the  moonlight, 
and  the  young  girl  hanging  upon  his 
unearthly  wisdom,  might  well  be 
omitted.  The  meagre  information  here 
given  to  us,  chiefly  touching  the  popular 
error  as  to  the  size  of  fairies,  did  not 
quite  compensate  for  tho  long,  long 
wait  in  darkness  while  the  scene-shifters 
put  up  the  Duke's  interior.  And,  alter 
all,  we  might  have  guessed  that,  for  this 
night  at  least,  the  little  people  would 
be  as  large  as  life  or  larger;  for  is  not 
Mr.  CHESTEBTCN  also  among  the 
fairies  ? 

The  audience  on  the  first  night 
seemed  chiefly  made  up  of  superior 
people,  concerned  to  show  themselves 
connoisseurs  of  the  Chestertonian  man- 
ner. They  laughed  swiftly  and  know- 
ingly when  Mr.  SHAW'S  name  occurred. 
I  hope  I  laughed  in  some  of  the  right 
places,  but  I  might  easily  have  laughed 
once  in  a  wrong  one  and  so  shocked  my 
reverent  neighbours.  It  wTas  where  the 
girl  Patricia  comes  to  the  conjurer,  in  an 
agony  of  apprehension,  to  implore  him 
to  reveal  the  way  in  which  he  had  done 
his  lamp-trick;  otherwise  her  brother 
was  bound  to  go  stark  mad.  "  Instead 
of  which "  the  conjurer  proceeds  to 
make  love,  to  her,  and  she  to  respond 
playfully.  In  her  light-hearted  oblivion 
she  prattles  of  domestic  prospects — 
how,  as  his  wife,  she  will  darn  his  hat 
and  cook  his  goldfish  for  dinner — and 
even  goes  so  far  as  to  make  an  old  joke 
about  poached  rabbits.  This  joke,  of 
course,  was  not  the  funny  part.  The 
funny  part  (undesigned)  was  the  fact 
that  the  girl,  in  a  spasm  of  self-interest, 
had  totally  mislaid  her  mission ;  had  for- 
gotten that,  all  the  time  while  she  was 
getting  engaged  and  making  little  jests, 
there  was  her  brother  (we  had  heard 
his  groans  whenever  the  door  opened) 
writhing  on  a  bed  of  incipient  imbecility. 
I  have  just  refreshed  my  memory  of 
this  remarkable  passage  by  reference 
to  the  published  version  of  the  play. 
It  improves  on  closer  acquaintance,  and 
this  time  I  was  free  to  laugh  in  the 
wrong  place,  all  by  myself.  O.  S. 


NOVEMBEB  19,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR   THK   LONDON   CIIAIMVAKI.  437 


"  GEORGE,  GEORGE!     SA\EHE!     IT 's  RUNNING  AWAY !" 

"ALL  RIGHT,  DARLING;   YOU  NEEDN'T  BE  AFRAID.    DON'T  YOU  SEE  I'M  GETTING  DOWN  TO  HELP  YOU?' 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IT  is  strange,  after  so  long  an  interval,  to  be  shown  once 
again  the  cruel  and  grotesque  beauties  of  Mr.  HARDY'S 
world.  In  this  collection  of  stories,  A  Changed  Man 
(MACMILLAN),  I  have  received  the  impression  of  life 
isolated  and  remote,  sometimes  sharply  unreal,  sometimes 
almost  naively  arranged  for  unhappiness,  always  arresting 
and  provocative — that  world  that  was,  it  seemed,  finally 
closed  with  the  tragic  history  of  Jnde  the  Obscure.  The 
life  that  Mr.  HARDY  reveals  has  in  it  some  of  the  unsuspi- 
cious credulity  of  a  child.  There  are  here  old  wives'  tales 
about  dukes  and  corpses,  graves  at  the  cross-roads,  fair  and 
unfaithful  wives,  that  have  about  them  a  strangely  simple 
trust  and  confidence.  By  kitchen  fires  on  Egdon  Heath 
such  tales  have  for  many  years  been  told,  and  the  grand 
reality  of  rocks  and  moor  beyond  the  lighted  windows  gives 
the  Ditkc  and  Alicia  and  the  Dairymaid  a  spectral  contrast 
that  causes  the  narrator,  in  the  full  Hood  of  his  story,  to  fling 
a  glance  over  his  shoulder.  "  The  Grave-by  the  Handpost," 
"  What  the  Shepherd  Saw,"  "  The  Duke's  Reappearance," 
betray  this  same  glance.  On  Egdon,  by  night  or  day, 
anything  may  occur,  and  hero,  in  these  pages,  wild  desolation 
and  primitive  history  have  their  overwhelming  effect.  It 
is  finally  the  simplicity  that  remains  ;  and,  as  always  in 
Mr.  HARDY'S  world,  it  is  a  simplicity  that  is  huge  and 
tragic  but  never  artificial  nor  self-conscious.  These  tales 
were  there  before  Mr.  HARDY,  and  they  of  themselves  chose 
him  as  their  interpreter  to  the  world ;  and  very  wise  they 
were. 

It  is  not  often  that  the  public-school  novel  (as  opposed 
to  the  school  story)  has  an  original  central  idea.  As  a  rule 
the  author  is  content  to  take  a  small  boy  without  any 
particular  characteristics  to  distinguish  him  from  other 
small  boys,  and  describe  his  life  at  whatever  public  school 
he,  the  author,  happens  to  know  best.  Mr.  CHARLES 
TUHLEY,  in  his  latest  work,  A  Band  of  Brothers  (HEINE- 


MANN),  has  bson  more  ambitious.  Ho  has  hit  on  the 
excellent  idea  of  making  his  hero  the  last  of  a  super-athletic 
family.  Mr.  Bumbold  had  been  a  member  of  "  one  of  the 
best  elevens  Granby  over  had,"  and  four  of  his  sons  had 
established  such  a  Bumbold  tradition  at  the  school  that, 
when  Joe,  the  youngest,  went  there  and  began  to  show  a 
disposition  to  bo  head  of  his  form  instead  of  a  marvel  at 
football,  there  was  something  more  than  mere  consternation 
in  the  family ;  and  only  the  discovery  that  this  black  sheep 
had  the  makings  of  an  excellent  long-distance  runner  pre- 
vented Mr.  Bumbold  from  taking  him  away  from  Granby 
in  disgrace.  Eventually  Joz  displayed  other  gifts,  so  that 
on  the  last  page  we  find  him  receiving  from  his  father  the 
following  compliment:  "I'm  afraid  you  will  never  get  a 
Blue  at  Oxford,  but  all  the  same  it  may  be  worth  while  to 
send  you  there."  To  my  mind,  the  best  thing  in  an  admir- 
able book  is  the  subtlety  with  which  the  characters  of  the 
four  great  brothers  are  drawn.  They  appear  but  seldom, 
yet  it  is  quite  easy  to  S3e  that  Pads  is  a  thoroughly  good 
sort,  that  Bingo  has  the  worst  kind  of  swelled  head,  and 
that  Flip  and  Jumpj  are  so  magnificent  that  they  can 
hardly  bo  treated  as  human  beings  at  all.  If  Mr.  TURLEY 
has  a  fault  (which  is  very  doubtful),  it  is  that  he  is  apt  to 
allow  his  sense  of  caricature  to  run  away  with  him.  But, 
after  all,  it  is  not  a  serious  fault,  and  it  is  certainly  one  of 
which  other  school  story- writers  with  a  sense  of  humour 
have  been  guilty.  It  should  bo  unnecessary  to  add — but  I 
do  it  for  the  benefit  of  any  curious  reader  who  does  not  know 
this  best  of  school-chroniclers — that  the  Bumbold  portraits 
come  straight  out  of  Mr.  TURLEY'S  own  head,  and  are  not 
drawn  from  the  members  of  any  well-known  athletic  family. 


After  begging  Mr.  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS  to  come  out  of  his 
groove  1  should  indeed  be  an  ingrate  if  I  did  not  thank  him 
for  the  leap  he  makes  in  his  new  book,  The  Joy  of  Youth 
(CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  ;  for  he  has  left  his  Dartmoor  rustics 
and  landed  rather  plumpingly  upon  people  of  lineage  and 
inherited  traditions.  Devonshire  is  still  the  background  of 
his  story,  but  it  is  only  the  background ;  the  salient  events 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [NOVEMBER  19,  1913. 

have  Italy  for  their  immediate  setting.  Here  the  author  j  I  confess  to  having  entertained  an  unworthy  suspicion 
finds  scope  for  much  instruction  and  entertainment,  but  i  (unworthy  in  one  who  admires  Mr.  CAINE'S  work  as  I  do) 
the  erudition  of  the  painter,  Bertram  Dangerfield,  is  over-  that  the  -unlamented  Swift  was  going  not  to  be  dead  after 

nm  v\K  n  c-i  _-i*w1  T 1 0      1'lirii  1          V  )  I*       7i*/»  1 Afl  Jl         Infill  />          Ti/ivt  f  O  I  L'O/1  -ill  "Rl  if-      flul     VDn  1      nlAnP      n    .,  .•      i-n-ni,-.  ni-K?«.al.AJ.K      _  •        • 


—     J  '  ™      O  t">  vx'      W    \-*ti«.tl    tltl  Lt!l 

all.     But  the  real  blow  was  something  both  more  original 


the  erudition  of  the  painter, .,„_, ,  ._  — 

emphasised.     His  rival,  Sir  Ralegh  Vane,  Bart.,  talked — .  uu.     JJUK  mo  ieu,i  uiuw  was  someining  uocn  more  origin 
and  was  doubtless  meant  to  talk— like  a  prig,  but  Danger- '  and  more  human.     I  don't  think  you  would  evdr  cuess°it 
lielii'x  long-windedness  was  often  boring,  and   this  could 
scarcely  have  been  intended,     Tn,,«j*-,,    nr*~in,,    i, ,.,,.,,.,,,- 


scarcely  nave  ueen  mionaeu.  J^oreaay  Merton,  however,  I  turned  with  the  greatest  excitement  to  hear  The  Truth 
was  charmed  by  his  conversation.  Local  influences  may  j  about  Camilla  (HEINEMANN),  for  all  that  I  knew  previously 
have  had  something  to  do  with  this,  for  no  sooner  had .  about  any  lady  of  that  name  was  comprised  in  the  last 
she  readied  Florence,  where  he  had  a  studio,  than-  she 'fifteen  lines  of  the  seventh  book  of  the  Atncid;  but  from 
fell  a  victim  to  the  spell  of  that  bewitching  city,  and  j  that  brief  account  I  had  gathered  that  she  was  an  extremely 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  only  just  begun  to  interesting,  able  and  active  young  person.  As  a  matter  of 
live.  Meanwhile  Sir  Italegh,  whom  she  was  originally ,  fact,  the  triumphs  of  Miss  GERTRUDE  HALL'S  heroine  lay 
engaged  to  marry,  remained  at  home  and  wrote  letters  to ,  in  a  different  field  and  at  a  different  date  from  those  of 
her,  in  which  he  announced  that  "Providence,  in  Whom  I  j  Turnus'  Amazonian  aide-decamp,  but  none  the  less  she 
trust  absolutely,  will  order  things  for  the  best  from  a  i  did  not  belie  my  hopes,  and  hardly  for  a  moment  of  her 
standpoint  veiled  in  clouds  beyond  the  mind  of  man  to  ^  career  between  the  ages  of  nine  and  fifty  did  I  weary  of  her 
reach,"  and  similar  things.  Before  I  was  half  through  the  •  exploits.  Fairly  sure  from  the  beginning  that  she  was  the 
book  I  knew  that  the  baronet  would  never  marry  Loveday  daughter  of  Count  Mari,  and  not  of  his  steward  I  was 
if  Mr  pu,T.T.,»vnTB  ™nl,l  i^ir,  _  scarcely  surprised  at' the  en- 


if  Mr.  PHILLPOTTS  could  help 
it.  For  he  deliberately  mars 
his  story  in  order  to  be  unfair 
to  the  type.  To  make  an 
Aunt  Sally  out  of  an  aristo- 
crat is  too  cheap  an  amuse- 
ment for  a  novelist  of  his 
ability.  Nevertheless,  when 
all  my  complaints  have  been 
made,  The  Joy  of  Youth  re- 
mains a  pleasant  guide  to 
the  treasures  of  Florence,  and 
to  the  heart  of  a  peculiarly 
attractive  girl. 

When  a  story  with  a  title 
like  The  Irresistible  Intruder 
(LANE)  begins  with  the  expect- 
ed visit  of  a  small  boy  to  some 
quiet  people  in  the  country, 
and  their  fears  that  he  is  go- 
ing to  prove  an  unmitigated 
nuisance,  you  may  be  prettv 
safe  in  assuming  that  he  will 
turn  out  to  be  nothing  of  the 
kind.  Which  of  course  is 
what  happened.  Publins,the 


Policeman  (investigating  a  burglary).  "Now,  IF  YOD  COULD 


TRACE  THK  OWKEB  OP  THIS   SHOE 


Householder.  "WELL,  DO  I  LOOK  LIKE  A  PAIKT  PBIXCE?" 


.  ,- , 

homely  and  freckled  but  altogether  lovable  little  guest  of  the 
fennels,  has  not  entered  the  story  for  ten  minutes  before 
his  instant  subjugation  of  his  host  is  followed  by  that  of  the 
reader.  But  it  is  not  till  later  that  you  will  relish  the  full 
significance  of  the  book's  title,  and  see  that  Publitu  was 
the  only  irresistible  boy  whose  arrival  set  a  peaceful 


gaging  mixture  she  showed 
of  patrician  pride  and  good 
tasta  witii  a  peasant's  endur- 
ance and  simplicity.  Her 
beauty  and  her  brains  (she 
told  such  fascinating  lies  as 
ai'e,  I  believe,  only  possible 
to  children  of  the  sunny 
South)  raised  her  to  the  proud 
position  of  consort  to  a  worn- 
out  and  cynical  Russian 
prince;  but  she  met  the  love 
of  her  life  in  an  opera  singer 
many  years  her  junior,  with 
whom  she  would  not  consent 
to  stay  lest  he  should  tire  of 
her  as  she  grew  old.  Finally, 
after  his  early  death,  we 
leave  her  enjoying  a  peaceful 
and  moderate  splendour, 
richly  deserved, as  a  marchesa 
in  her  native  Florence. 
There  is  a  great  deal  more 
than  this,  however.  Camilla 
moves  in  many  circles  dur- 
ing her  varied  career — in  the 
humble  home  of  her  youth,  amidst  the  entourage  of  the 
famous  American  novelist,  Mrs.  Northmere,  in  the  glittering 
world  of  Monte  Carlo,  and  behind  the  scenes  at  the  opera— 
but  in  all  of  them  with  a  light-footed  agility  almost  rivalling 
that  of  her  Volscian  namesake,  self-possessed,  adequate  and 
triumphantly  facing  the  buffets  of  the  world.  I  ought  to 
add  that  Miss  GERTRUDE  HALL  made  me  feel  as  if  I  had 


neighbourhood  bvthphppls      A™fK0,.       4.  -tV — ,r 1  °  "uuc<.a  ui  me  \vunu.     j.  ou"nc  to 

travelling  companion      Mr    WITT     7r ?,       i '      •  'i     !  I"018  V1V'd  Personality  >n  fiction  than  that  of  Camilla  I 

UAKUIIUU.       IVir.     V\  ILLIAM    CAINS    has    in    s  inrf;     linvo    OT-ovi-    U^,,.,    fK»4.    tu_  ___i     -/• 


11- 
ravellmg  companion.     Mr. 

love-stor,  and  as  captiv 


in  short 
I  remember 


bound 
about 


\l 
Joan  Swift 


young       .  O 

that  jolly  PMilu,  had  the  time  of  their 

haPPened-     Of  coul'se.   it   had  been 

There  was  an  occasional  air  of  mystery 

that  foredoomed  it  from  the  first     And 


JT  j     •  -w*vyii     vunu     unuiu     \JL     1/ttr/rvHCt    J. 

have  every  hope  that  the  crowd  of  readers  will  overlook 
her  numerous  peccadillos  and  follow  the  rapid  flight  of  her 
daring  fortunes,  as  I  did,  attonitis  inhians  animis. 

The  Martyr's  Way. 

If  you  would  climb  to  PARNELL'S  throne, 
Prison  's  the  place  to  make  your  mark  in ; 

Tli3  crown  that  once  was  REDMOND'S  own 
Now  lies  upon  the  crest  of  LARKIN. 

"  Clothes— Advertiser  wants  to  sell  her  son's  Clothes  privately." 

Advt.  in  "  Norwood  Press." 
I  here  will  be  trouble  when  he  finds  out. 


NOVKMBEB  26,  1913.J 


PUNCH,   011  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


439 


CHARIVARIA. 

IT  is  denied  that  the  KAISEU  has 
forbidden  his  ollicers  to  dance  the 
i'ango,  the  One-Step,  and  the  Two- 
Step;  but  it  is  well  known  that  he 
prefers  the  old-fashioned  Goosc-Step. 

"  MEXICO  TRAMS  JUMP  "was  a  heading 
which  caught  our  eye  the  other  day  in 
the  financial  column  of  The  Mar.  This 
[jives  one  some  idea  of  the  state  of 
nerves  that  everyone  and  everything  is 
in  just  now  over  there. 

The  Budapest  Court  of  Appeal  has 
sentenced  an  ex-member  of  the  Hun- 
garian Parliament  to  one  month's  im- 
prisonment, and  two  others  to  two 
weeks'  imprisonment,  for  throwing 
ink-pots  at  the  PREMIER.  It  is  clear 
that  any  usurpation  of  the  right  of 
journalists  is  very  jealously  watched 
in  Hungary.  #  $ 

"It  has  been  suggested,"  said  the 
POSTMASTER-GENERAL  at  a  dinner  last 
week,  "that,  when  the  London  Post- 
Office  telephone  system  is  in  full 
working  Older,  we  should  have  our 
hair  cut  by  telephone."  As  a  matter 
of  fact  we  have  already  heard  people 
who  declare  that  they  have  besn 
fleeced  by  it.  $  * 

During  the  official  round  of  inspec- 
tion before  the  opening  of  the  Autumn 
Salon  in  Paris,  a  study  in  the  nude 
by  a  Dutch  artist  was  adjudged  to  be 
perilous  to  the  morals  of  Parisians,  and 
the  police  had  it  removed  forthwith. 
The  sense  of  relief  in  Paris  on  the  next 
day,  when  the  citizens  realised  what  a 
narrow  escape  their  morals  bad  bad, 
is  said  to  defy  description.  - 

:|:     # 
* 

The  painting  in  question,  we  are 
told,  was  thrust  into  a  dark  cupboard. 
This  sounds  like  the  appropriate  place 
for  it  if  the  cupboard  was  like  Mother 
Hubbard's. 


for  the  Panama  Exhibition.  One  of 
tho  attractions  is  to  be  a  scenic  repre- 
sentation, entitled,  "Creation,"  based 
on  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis.  An 
attempt,  we  understand,  is  to  bo  made 
to  persuade  Great  Britain  to  lend  Mr. 
Justice  EVE,  and  F ranee  Mmc.  ADAM,  in 
connection  with  this  show. 

With  reference  to  the  announcement 
that  Mr.  SEYMOUR  HICKS  will  probably 
bring  Broadway  Jones  to  tho  Prince  of 
Wales'  Theatre  in  January,  the  manager 
of  the  Strand  Theatre  would  like  it  to 


"  Three  hundred  and  sixty  mill  girls 
came  out  on  strike  at  liraintree  yester- 
day,   and    paraded    the   town   singing 
in    rag  -  time."      This    should    surely 
lave   been    headed,   "  STKIKEKS' 

Yl'.U'ON." 


,,.  .,. 

* 


Excavations  at  Jericho,  it  transpires, 
prove  that  the  walls  of  that  city  were 
not  destroyed  to  the  extent  we  wore  led 
to  believe,  and  a  great  deal  is  being 
made  of  this  fact.  For  ourselves,  we 
think  it  would  be  well  to  let  by-gones 
be  by-gones.  $  .,. 

Free  shows  for  the  people  are  not  so 
common  that  one  should  omit  to  draw 
attention  to  the  fact  that  those  star- 
artistes,  tho  Leonids,  are  now  giving 
their  clever  vol  plane  performance  early 
in  the  morning.  ^  ^ 

Preparations  for  amusement  on  a 
colossal  scale,  we  read,  are  being  made 


First  Housebreaker  (resting  from  his  labours). 

AN'  'E  SEZ  TO  ME,  '  WHY  DON'T  YEB  JOIN 
THE  BYMPERTIIETIO  STRIKE?  '  'E  SEZ.  '  YUS,1 
SEZ  I,  '  THAT  'B  ALL  VEBY  WELL,  BUT  I  GOT 
TO  LIVE.  I  CAN'T  TAKE  xo  BLOOMING  BISKS.'  " 


be  known  that  this  friend  of  Mr.  HICKS 
is  not  one  of  "  The  Joneses." 
*  * 

"I  spend  £14,000  a  year  on  my 
clothes,"  says  Mile.  GABY  DESLYS  in 
The  Patrician..  So  much  for  those 
persons  who  think  she  does  not  weai 
enough  1  $  * 

Attention  is  once  more  being  drawn 
in  the  Press  to  the  danger  of  crossing 
the  road  in  London,  and  a  recent  draw- 
ing by  our  Mr.  MORROW  leads  us  to 
ask  the  authorities  seriously  to  consider 
whether  it  might  not  be  possible  to 
train  powerful  birds  to  carry  littl 
children  and  old  ladies  and  gentlemen 
from  one  side  of  the  street  to  the  other 


*    if 
if 


During  his  twenty-three  years'  sor- 
ice  at  Eye,  Suffolk,  the  rate-collector, 
t  is  stated,  has  never  had  to  issue  a 
ingle  summons  against  a  ratepayer. 
?hoso  who  hold  that  miracles  never 
lappen  nowadays  would  do  well  to 
emember  this  instance  of  a  rate-col- 

ector  getting  the  universal  Glad  Eyo. 
-',•  # 

* 
A  statement  that  live  animals  were 

shut  up  in  the  old  battleship  Empress 
of  India  during  tho  recent  firing 

xercises  is  officially  denied.  There 
was  not  even  a  single  representative  of 
a  hostile  naval  Power  on  board.  Could 

mmanity  go  further  ? 

"  SCAPE— SCAPE." 

THE  lawn  is  all  with  rime  embossed, 
There  must  have  been  a  touch  of  frost 

This  fair  effect  contriving ; 
But  blue  of  cornflowers  is  the  sea; 
The  marsh  is  gold  ;  it  seems  to  ma 
The  snipe  should  be  arriving. 

The  snipe's  a  nimble  little  elf; 
His  bill 's  as  long  as  he  himself; 

He  dodges  like  the  dsvil. 
[  take  my  gun  and  look  for  him 
Beside  the  ditch's  silent  brim 

And  round  the  sea-girt  level; 

And  there  the  bouncing  Clumber  pup 
Tempestuously  puts  him  up — 

"Scape — Scape,"  he  blithely  carols; 
And  so  he  does,  before  my  eyes, 
Because  I  hate  the  way  he  flies, 

And  miss  with  both  my  barrels. 

"  For  sale  as  a  GoingConcert. — By  Direction 
of  Trustees.  Valuable  Leasehold  Sawing  and 
Turning  Hills." 

Adrt.  in  "  Afancliesttr  Guardian." 
We  have  often  heard  them  at  work  in 
an  orchestra. 


"  Alice,  do  one  sweet  thing  more,  because 
it 's  Christinas  morning.  '  Come  and  watch 
the  sunset  round  the  corner.'  " 

Grand  Magazine. 
Alice    (on    her    return).    "Aren't    the 
evenings  drawing  in  ?  " 

14  Ten  thousand  1  It  rolls  deliciously  upon 
the  tongue,  a  rich,  a  satisfying  number. 
Pleasant  its  figures  are  to  the  eye ;  a  picture 
of  round  achievement  is  in  10,000,  five  magic 
circles  and  the  upright  staff  that  has  traced 
them." 
"Ereniny  Kf irs  "  (in  case  t/oii  hadn't  guessed  iff. 

"Five  magic  circles  be  blowed,"  said 
the  unpostical  compositor.  "  He 's  got 
to  have  four  ovals  and  a  comma,  like 
the  rest  of  "em." 


•140 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


THE   SODA-WATER   SIPHON. 

DEAR     MK.     PUNCH, — I    make    no 
apology    for    addressing    you    oil   the 
subject   of    my    Soda-Water    Siphon 
becau.se  //<>«,  Sir,  are  accountable  fo 
v.lm'  I   have  gone  through.     You  wi 
recall  that  not  a  great  many  weeks  ag 
you  protested,  by   the  pen  of  a  con 
trilmtor,  against  the  reiteration  on  ou 
1  nsuranco  Cards    of    the   term,  "  Tli 
week  commencing."    Well,  ever  since 
can  remember  1  have  been  galled,  Sii 
and  made  sore  and  restive  by  the  sub 
stitution,  not  only  of  "commence''  fo 
"begin,"  but  of  "assist"  for   "help, 
-sufficient"  for  "enough,"   etc.,   etc. 
etc.,  etc.,   and,  I  may  add,   that  013 
UN  iitment  is  quite  apart  from  a  privati 
conviction  that  I  pay  for  these  popula 
refinements  of  my  mother  tongue  when 
I  pay  the  Education  rate.     You  may 
judge,  then,  how  Jinn  is  my  habit  o 
self-suppression  when  1  say  that  for 
more  than  seven  years  I  have,  withou 
revolt, endured  as  right-handcompaniot 
at  my  dinner  table  a  Soda- Water  Siphon 
bearing  the  inscription : — 

THIS   SYPHON 

IS  THE   PROPERTY  OF 

J  AMKS  .  WODDLE, 
The  Arcade  Grocery, 

WIUCII   IF  NOT  BKTURXED  IN   REASONABLE 
TIME   wrLL  BE  CHARGED  2«.  Gd. 


Your  protest,  Mr.  Punch,  Sir,  fell  like 
rain  on  the  arid  soil  of  my  compliance 
it  was  like  leaven  in  the  dough  of  rny  idle 
acquiescence.  I  burst  into  leaf.  I  rose 
It  was  easy  to  decida  that  ibe  proper 
thing  to  do  was  to  write  to  my  grocer. 
To  speak  to  him  would  be  to  humiliate 
him  in  the  presence  of  his  ne'w  bacon- 
cutter.  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  wrote,  he 
could  read  and  hide  his  blushes  behind 
the  little  screened  desk  where  (as  I 
happen  to  know,  for  I  once  drew  a 
cheque  there)  he  uses  a  potato  as  a  pin- 
cushion. 

Having  decided  to  write  I  simply 
took  a  pen  and  wrote,  courteously 
adopting  bis  illiterate  way  of  spelling 
the  word  Siphon  : — 

SIB,  —  Referring  to  your  Soda- 
Water,  I  observe  that  the  Syphons  bear 
a  printed  notice  to  the  effect  that  if  the 
Syphon  is  not  returned  it  'will  be 
charged  half-a-crown.'  It  is  clearly 
impossible  to  exact  a  fine  from  a  Soda- 
Water  Syphon.  Why  not  therefore 
alter  the  label  ?  Yours  faithfully, 

J.  M.  PABSLIP." 

Mr.  W'oddle's  reply  came  next  day, 
skewered  to  a  Stilton  cheese  with  a  pin. 
It  was  written  on  very  thin  paper  with 
a  very  hard-pointed  pen. 

SIB, — I    am    in    receipt    of    your 
esteemed    communication.      I    always 


charge  the  Syphons  2s.  &d.  when  not 
returned.     We  are  obliged  to  do  so  in 
order  to  protect  ourselves.    Soliciting 
continuance  of  your  esteemed  favours, 
Yours  respectfully, 

JAMES  WODDLE." 

I  hastened  to  reply. 

"  DEAR  SIR, — You  have  misread  1113 
letter.  I  quite  agree  that  you  mus 
protect  yourself  against  loss  of  you 
Syphons,  but  why  not  say  on  the  labe 
that  I — the  user — will  be  charged  half 
a-crown?  You  cannot  possibly  mean 
that  the  Syphon  will  be  charged  half-a 
crown.  Pardon  my  writing  to  you  or 
this  subject,  but  in  point  of  fact  the 
wording  on  the  label  causes  me  some 
annoyance.  Yours  faithfully, 

J.  M.  PABSLIP." 

By  return  of  post  I  got  Mr.  Woddle's 
answer : — 

Sin, — I  am  in  receipt  of  your 
esteemed  communication.  I  can  only 
repeat  that  when  Soda- Water  Syphons 
are  not  returned  they  will  be  charged 
2.s.  6rf.  I  have  no  intention  of  charg- 
ing you  for  your  Syphons.  We  used, 
at  one  time,  to  make  this  charge 
universally,  but  it  was  unpopular  ancl 
we  found  it  unnecessary  with  our  large 
circle  of  customers  among  the  nobility 
and  gentry  of  the  .neighbourhood.  'At 
;be  same  time  we  are  bound  to  protect 
ourselves,  and  therefore  put  the  notice 
on  the  Syphons  to  which  you  take 
exception.  Hoping  this  explanation 
will  be  satisfactory  and  soliciting  a 

intinuance  of  your  esteemed  favours, 
Yours  respectfully, 

JAMES  WODDLE." 

I  could  not  obviously  let  the  matter 
rest  there,  so  I  sat  down  and  laid 
myself  out  to  settle  the  thing  for  good 
and  all. 

'.;MY  DEAR  SIR,"  I  wrote,— "Please 
lo  not  misunderstand  me.  I  fully 
•ealis'e  that  you  must  reimburse  your- 
=elf  in  the  event  of  your  Syphons  not 
>eing  returned  to  you;  that  is  only 
air  and  reasonable.  What  I  object  to, 
f  1  may  say  so,  is  that  on  the  printed 
abel  you  clearly  state  that  the  Syphons 
vill  be  charged  half-a-crown,  and  this 
s  an  absolute  impossibility.  If  you 
ead  the  label  you  will  see  that  the 
elative  '  which  '  refers  to  the  Sypkon. 
Purely  this  is  clear..  What  you  mean 
s  that,  if  for  any  reason  the  user 
myself,  for  instance)  fails  altogether, 
r  unreasonably  delays,  to  make  due 
estitution  of  any  Syphon  or  Syphons 
o  you  (the  rightful  owner),  then  you 
eserve  the  right,  in  the  event  of  its  not 
eing  returned  in  reasonable  time,  to 
xact  from  him  (me,  for  instance)  the 
aymentof  the  sum  of  two-and-sixpence 

each  Syphon  lent  by  you.     This  is 


what  you  mean.  Then  why  not  say  it? 
The  continued  publication  year  after 
year  of  a  printed  phrase  which  is 
blatantly  ungrammatical  can  only  tend 
to  undermine  our  native  tongue,  and  I 
submit  that  it  is  incumbent  on  you  to 
do  your  duty  to  the  public  by  revising 
the  label.  Yours  faithfully, 

J.  M.  PABSLIP." 

Woddle's  amazing  reply  came  with 
the  bacon  next  morning  : — • 

"  Sin,— I  am  duly  in  receipt  of  your 
esteemed'  communication.  I  am  sur- 
prised that  a  gentleman  should  continue 
to  make  complaints  when  a  satisfactory 
explanation  has  been  offered.  If  my 
Syphons  are  not  returned  they  will  bo 
charged  2s.  6d.  1  put  it  on  the  labels 
so  that  gentlemen  may  know  before- 
hand, and  that 's  business.  I  don't 
know  why,  .after  all  there  years,  a 
gentleman  should  object  to  mv  Soda- 
Water,  which  is  the  best  made  and 
same  as  always  supplied.  Soliciting  a 
continuance  of  your  esteemed  favours, 
Yours  respectfully, 

JAMES  WODDLE." 

It  was  impossible  to  do  more  than  I 
:iad  done.  It  also  seemed  unreasonable 
;o  go  on  ordering  Soda- Water  from 
Woddle.  I  had  grounds  for  reconsider- 
ing this  decision,  however,  when  the 
rival  Siphon  was.  put  on  rny  table. 
The  label  ran  as  follows : — 

THIS    SYPHON 

IS  THE  PROPERTY  OF 

CHARLES    F.    BINKS, 

Family  Grocer,  19,  Wool  Street, 

AND  WHICH  IF  NOT  RETURNED  IN  REASONABLE 
TIME  WILL  BE  CHARUKD  'As.   Gd. 

The  italics   are  mine.     Please,   Mr. 
Punch,  tell  me  what  I  ought  to  do  next. 
Yours  obediently, 

J.  M.  PABSLIP. 

Mr.  Hicks,  yesterday,  executed  twojflights 
ipside  down.   .   .   .  This  afternoou  Mr.  Hieeks 
gain  went  up.   .  .  .  During  hi?  experiments 
his  afternoon   Mr.   Hucks   flew  head  down- 
wards."— Cork  Examiner. 

The  blood. seems  to  have  rushed  into 
lis  name. 


It  is  alleged  that  he  stabbed  a  labourer  on 
tie  cheek  with  a  knife  held  in  his  hand." 
Glasgow  Evening  Citizen. 

The  good  old-fashioned  stroke  with  the 
knife  held  between  the  second  and 
third  toes  of  the  left  foot  is  losing 
favour. 

"  The  language  of  Scott  and  Burns  is  not  a 
heritage  to  lightly  be  dropped,  though  too 
little  is  being  done  to  avert  that  act." 

Paisley  Gazette. 

Luckily  the  language  of  SHAKSPEABE 
and  MILTON  is  in  the  safe  hands  of  our 
contemporary. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKI VARI.— NOVKMHKR  26,   1913. 


THE    NEW    ULYSSES. 

•"COURAGE/    HE    SAID,    AND    POINTED   TOWARD    THE    LAND." 

THE  LOTOS-EATERS. 


NOVEMBER  26,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


443 


Our  Demon  Tangoist  (to  fair  stranger,  to  wlwm  fie  lias  just  been  introduced).  "  WHAT  'B  DOIN'  ?     WHAT  's  DOIN'  ?    WILL  YOU  SHOUT?  ' 
Fair  Stranger.  "How  ABOUT  NUMBED  FIFTEEN?"  Demon  Tangoist.  "Norms'  DOIN',  NOTHIH'  DOIN'.    SHOUT  AGAIN." 


IMAGINARY    CONVERSATIOMS. 

(Mr.  ARNOLD  WBITE  and  Mr.  LEO 
MAXSE.) 

Mr.  WHITE.  "Tliis  Government  of 
political  GBHAZIS — 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  How  dare  you  com- 
pare them  to  GEHAZI,  Sir?  GEHAZI 
was  merely  a  leper,  a  liar  and  a  thief. 
And  you  call  yourself  a  Die-Hard  !  " 

Mr.  WHITE.  "I  am  »v  Die-Hard.     I 
dje  hard  in  The  Express  every  Monday.  [ 
My  blood  will  be  shed  in  the  last  ditch  ! 
— the  very  last  ditch.     No  one  will  die 
harder." 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "You  are  not  a  Die-hard. 
You  are  a  base,  trimming  mandarin. 
GEHAZI,  indeed  !  GEHAZI  would  have 
blushed  even  to  walk  past  Downing 
Street." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  I  live  in  hopes  of 
seeing  ANANIAS  ASQUITH  swinging  from 
a  Downing  Street  lamp-post." 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  Your  humanity,  Sir, 
is  that  of  a  coward.  I  live  in  hopes  of 
seeing  that  disgraceful  cur,  whom  you 
grossly  (latter  by  comparison  with 
a  not  wholly  worthless  character  like 
ANANIAS — I  say  I  live  in  hopes  of 
seeing  him  stamped  under  foot  by  the 
herd  of  polluted  swine  he  is  leading  to 
a  political  Gehenna." 


Mr.  WHITE.  "  And  BIBRELL,  the 
Herod  who  demands  slaughtered  heca- 
tombs of  Ulster's  babes?" 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  If  I  am  to  continue 
conversing  with  you,  Sir,  I  will  endure 
no  insults  to  HEROD.  HEROD  may 
have  had  a  trifle  of  inhumanity,  but,  at 
any  rate,  he  was  never  swayed  by 
American  dollars." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  But  what  do  you  think 
of  CHURCHILL — CHURCHILL,  who  took 
a  royal  salute  on  the  high  seas,  thus 
proclaiming  himself  a  traitor  to  King 
and  country?  Surely  you  agree  with 
me  that  he  would  be  none  the  worse 
for  a  hanging?  " 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  I  disagree  absolutely. 
A  hanging!  Why,  many  highly  re- 
spectable men  have  been  hanged!  I 
would  have  him  impaled  over  an  oil- 
furnace  in  one  of  those  Dreadnoughts 
whose  plans  he  has  sold  to  Germany. 
Then,  like  his  fellow-criminals,  he  will 
for  once  be  dabbling  in  oil." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  And  McKENNA,  the 
paltry,  mean,  squalid  robber!  Should 
we  not  have  his  head  off?  " 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  Sir,  I  perceive  you  are 
a  vile  Coalitionist.  Why  this  tender- 
ness to  traitors?  These  are  times  for 
men  to  speak  out,  not  to  mince  their 
words.  Beware  of  lukewarm  ness.  As 


for  the  caitiff  you  mention,  I  would 
immerse  him  in  a  vat  of  boiling  leeks 
and  enjoy,  as  a  patriot  should,  his 
coward  howling." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  Still,  we  shall  agree 
on  one  point.  We  cannot  differ  about 
the  Marconi  saint?  " 

Mr.  MAXSE  (gasping).  "I  need  a  new 
language.  I  cannot  speak — I  choke. 
(Converses  violently  in  the  deaf  and 
dumb  alphabet  for  ten  minutes.)  Now 
talk  to  me  of  some  one  pure  and  noble 
and  disinterested." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  What  a  comfort  we 
have  F.  E.  SMITH— 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  That  accursed  Moder- 
ate !  A  man  who  dines  with  members  of 
the  Criminal  Cabinet — whose  speeches 
are  all  courtesies  and  honeyed  compli- 
ments to  the  traitors !  " 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  At  any  rate  Lord  WIL- 

LOUGHBY    I>E    BROKE — 

Mr.  MAXSE.  "  Ah  !  There  you  have  a 
man.  BROKE  and  myself  are  the  Last 
of  the  Old  Guard." 

Mr.  WHITE.  "  What  about  me  ?  " 

Mr.  MAXSE:  "BROKE     and    myself 

'  and  not  another  to  help !    Would  there 

were  one  more  outspoken  man  of  brain 

and  heart.  For  such  a  one  I  would  give 

!  an  army  of  mealy-mouthed  Moderates." 

I      Mr.  WHITE  (testily).  "  Good  night." 


414 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


RHYMING    SLANG. 

"  How  's  the  bother  and  gawdfers  ?  " 
I  heard  a  porter  in  Covent  Garden  ask, 
by  way  of  afterthought,  loudly  of  a 
friend  from  whom  he  had  just  parted. 
"Eight  as  rain,"  was  the  shouted 
ri  ply  ;  and  I  went  on  my  way  in  a 
state  of  bewilderment  as  to  what  they 
wero  talking  about.  What  was  a 
bother  and  what  a  gawdfer?  1  could 
i  think  of  nothing  except  possibly  some 
pet  animal,  or  a  nickname  for  a  mutual 
friend.  In  a  higher  commercial  rank 
they  might  have  been  gold  mines. 
Among  soldiers  they  would  have  been 
officers.  I  asked  a  few  acquaintances, 
but  without  any  result,  and  so  made  a 
note  of  the  sentence  and  dismissed  it 
until  the  man  who  knows  should  arrive. 


In  course  of  time  1  found  him. 
knows  because  he  has 
had  a  varied  career  in 
both  hemispheres,  even 
to  the  navigation  of 
tramp  steamers,  and  is 
able  and  ready  to  talk 
with  anyone.  Conver- 
sational ease  and  natur- 
alness in  every  class  of 
life  are  pre-eminently 
his.  He  has  seen  some 
strange  things  too,  in- 
cluding the  hanging  of 
women,  and  he  has 
swapped  stories  with 
both  STEVENSON  and 
MARK  TWAIN.  To-day 
he  is  journalising  in 
London ;  to-morrow  he 
may  be  off  again  for 


He 


only   principle    it    has    is   a   perverse 
passion  for  obliquity. 

When  an  American  is  asked  a  ques- 
tion for  which  he  lias  no  answer,  and 
he  says,  "  Search  me,"  he  is  emphasising 
iu  a  striking  and  humorous  way  his 
lotal  lack  of  information  on  that  point. 
When  he  calls  a  very  strong  whisky 
"Tangle-foot,"  he  indicates  its  peculiar 
properties  in  unmistakable  fashion  in 
the  briefest  possible  terms.  When  the 
same  man  sees  a  notoriously  intellectual 
person  and  exclaims,  "  Another  high- 
brow," be  at  once  calls  up  a  picture  of 
SHAKSPEARE,  Mr.  HALL  CAINE,  Sir 
OLIVER  LODGE,  or  some  other  domed 
cranium  associated  in  our  minds  with 
literary  pursuits.  His  slang  is  essen- 
tially pictorial.  But  when  a  Londoner 


head  is  a  lump  of  lead,  a  pillow  is 
a  weeping  icilioiv,  and  to  sleep  is  to 
plowjh  the  deep.  A  certain  bibulous 
and  quarrelsome  peer  was  told  by  a 
cabman  that  he  hadn't  been  "first  for 
a  bubble."  It  was  probably  only  too 
true ;  but  what  do  you  think  it  means  ? 
It  means  that  he  hadn't  been  First  of 
October  for  a  bubble  and  squeak: 
reduced  to  essentials,  sober  for  a  week. 
All  this  and  more  my  friend  told  me. 
Hero  are  some  anatomical  terms.  The 
face  is  the  Chevy,  from  Chevy  Chase ; 
the  nose  is  /  suppose,  this  being  one  of 
the  cases  where  the  whole  rhyme  is 
always  used;  the  brain  is  the  once 
again,  shortened  to  "once";  the  eye  is 
a  mince,  from  mince  pie ;  the  hand  is 
bag,  from  bag  of  sand;  the  arm  the 


'Frisco,    Sydney,    any- 
where. That  is  my  man. 


asks   another    after   his   "bother   and  false,  from  false  alarm.  The  ossophagus 
gawdfers,"    there    may    be   a    certain    (so  to  speak)  is  the  Derby,  or  Derby 

Kelt,  from  one  Derby 
Kelly ;  the  garment 
that  covers  it  is  the 
Charlie,  from  Charlie 
Prescott;  but  who  these 
heroes  were  I  have  not 
discovered.  A  collar  is 
an  Oxford,  from  Oxford 
scholar.  Nothing,  you 
see,  is  gained  by  rhym- 
ing slang;  no  saving  in 
time;  and  often  indeed 
the  slang  term  is  longer 
than  the  real  woid,  as 
in  tie,  which  is  all  me, 
from  all  me  eye,  and 
hat,  which  is  this  and 
that  in  full. 

Your  feet  are  your 
plates,  from  plates  of 
meat;  your  boots  are 
your  daisies,  from  daisy 


THE  JOY-TOUR. 
Super-Cargo  (with  delight).  "I  SAT,  THESE  CROSS-MARKS  ON  THE  ROAD  MAP 


DON  T   MEAN  SECONDARY  OB  BAD,   ONLY   VERY  PICTURESQUE,   SO   WE    CAN    LET    HER 

RIP."     (Tliey  do,  as  usual.) 


T  "^S|t.areabofcherandagawdfer?"i  asinine  funniness  in   the  remark,  but  roots ;  your  teeth fare  your  h 

there  is  neither  cleverness  nor  colour.  \  from  a  northern   common  •    money  i1 

A  wife  and  kid  of  course,    he  said    He  might  as  well  have  said  wife  and 'don't   be,   from   don't    be  funnu-    the 
£  of  saying  "of  kids,  whereas,  when  Americans  use  a  fire   is  the  Anna,  from  Anna  Maria 
slang  word,  it  is  because  it  is  better   Whisky  is/  'm  so,  from  I  'm  so  frisky ; 

than  the  other  word.  K«rt«  ;«  *,,•„>„ :„  /..n  .   j_i_ .  _     -, 

Ordinary    London     slang    has    few 

— _      merits.      "Nut,"  for  example,   carries 

forbids.     And  then,  according  to  the  no  picture  with  it.    Nor  does  it  explain 

7*11 1 A       r.n  A     frnrmi  i-»  *-*     «T^sv-^I      in      **1  ',  . I L  —  J       *i_ i  *         , ,   rt  i      , , 


course  "  there.) 

I  looked  perplexed,  and  he  added— 
"  Rhyming  slang,  you  know.     Wife  is 
bother   and   strife.'      Kids   are   'God 


rule 


curious  development  of  language  and 
the  Londoner's  mania  for  calling 
nothing  by  its  right  name. 

Some  one  said  recently,  when  a 
member  of  the  company  had  accused 
America  of  having  no  poetry,  "  What 
then  is  her  slang  ?  "  And  he  was  right, 
American  slang  is  poetry,  her  poetry. 
It  is  descriptive,  vivid  and  full  of 
images.  But  no  such  certificate  can 
be  given  to  rhyming  slang,  which  is 
without  any  reason  at  all  and,  after  the 
rule  referred  to  above  has  been  put  in 
operation,  without  rhyme  too.  The 


beer  is  pig's  ear  in  full ;   the  waiter  is 
the  hot,  from  hot  pc.rtater  ;  and  so  forth. 
And  these  foolish  synonyms  are  really 
used  too,  as  you  will  find  out  with  the 


advertisement  pictures,  "  tells  a  story." 
But  if  we  condemn  ordinary  London 
slang  for  its  dulness,  what  shall  we  say 
of  rhyming  slang  ?  Only  this,  that  the 
Englishman  should  blush  for  it.  The 
silliness  of  it  is  abysmal.  Look  at  this 
sentence :  "  So  I  took  a  flounder  to  the 
pope,  laid  my  lump  on  the  weeping, 
and  did  a  plough."  That  is  quite  a 
normal  remark  in  any  public  bar.  It 
means  that  the  speaker  went  home  in 
a  cab  and  was  quickly  asleep.  Why? 
Because  a  cab  is  a  flounder  and  dab ; 
one's  home  is  the  Pope  of  Borne;  a 


let  me  give  it :  in  the  Garden — Covent 
Garden,  fiom  Dolly  Vardon. 

But  what  I  want  now  to  know  is 
the  extent  of  the  rhyming  vocabulary 
and  the  process  by  which  new  words 
are  added  to  it.  Supposing,  for  example, 
it  was  felt  that  Mr.  BERNARD  SHAW  had 
to  be  referred  to  in  rhyming  slang, 
who  would  decide  that  he  was  to  be 
known  as,  say,  Holdycr,  from  hold  yer 
jaw?  Who  would  invent  that  term 
and  how  would  it  gain  currency  ?  That 
question  my  friend  could  not  answer. 
Is  there  not  some  sociologist  who  can  ? 


NOVEMBER  26,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


415 


A  LAPSE  IN  ART. 

(The  photographic  smile,  is  going  out  oj 
fashion.  A  sleepy  look  is  said  to  b<- 
taking  its  place.) 

I  BEAD  it  on  the  printed  page ; 

It  stood  out  sharp  as  fate, 
That  that  wide  smile,  so  long  the  rage 
With  ladies  of  tlio  lighter  stage, 

Is  doomed  and  out  of  date. 

Those  steady  lips  that  served  to  show 

Twin  rows  of  glittering  while, 
The  canines  well  exposed,  as  though  ' 
The  artist  meant  to  put  below, 
"  Be  careful,  for  I  bite," 

Henceforth,  if  what  men  say  is  truth, 

Are  wholly  banned  and  barred; 
Of  all  I  've  loved  from  early  youtli 
There  will  not  be  a  single  tooth 
On  any  picture  card. 

My  comrades  charge  me  not  to  weep ; 

For,  tho'  the  smile  be  doomed, 
In  place  thereof  a  look  of  deep 
And  calmly  idiotic  sleep 

Even  now  is  being  boomed. 

But  how  could  such  a  thing  atona 

To  my  distracted  heart  ? 
'Tis  worse.     I  do  not  sigh  alone 
For  that   long   smirk  so   tried  and 
known ; 

I  mourn  the  fall  of  Art. 

For  lack  of  truth  I  hold  a  sin 

Of  infinite  degree ; 
There  was  some  colour  for  the  grin ; 
But  where  the  sleepy  look  comes  in 

Is  one  too  much  for  me. 

Nay,  judging  by  the  strenuous  way 

In  which  these-damsels  make 
Their  noble  matches,  one  would  say 
That,  far  from  being  sleepy,  they 
Are  very  wide  awake. 

DuM-Duii. 


THE  PENALTY  OF  GEEATNESS. 

THEHE  was  once  a  man  who  went 
twenty-three  times  to  the  performance 
of  Peter  Pan,  and  was  inspired  thereby 
with  a  belief  in  fairies.  He  confessed 
his  belief  openly  and  vowed  to  devote 
his  life  to  proving  its  truth.  He  him- 
self would  find  a  fairy. 

And  to  this  end  he  cut  himself  off 
from  the  world,  and  dwelt  in  wood- 
land ways  still  untouched  by  hoardings 
blatant  with  the  praise  of  petrol.  Until 
at  last,  by  great  good  hap,  he  found  the 
frontier  of  Fairyland,  and  was  called 
upon  to  display  his  luggage  for  inspec- 
tion. 

"  Nothing  to  declare,"  he  announced 
boldly;  but  his  word  was  not  deemed 
sufficient,  and  he  had  to  submit  to  a 
search.  Not  that  this  troubled  him, 
for  his  conscience  was  dear.  In  fact, 


Counsel.  "Now  TELL  M'LUD  AXD  GENTLEMEN  OP  THE  JUBY  WHAT  WAS  THE  DEFENDANT'S 

CONDITION  WHEN  IN   VOUI1   BAB." 

Witness.  "\VELL,  SIB,  I  SHOULD  SAT  'FBESH  BUT  SEBVABLE."' 


as  his  spiritual  equipment  was  unpacked 
he  was  very  proud  of  it. 

"  What  is  this  ? "  demanded  the 
Customs  officer  suddenly,  and  the  man 
had  to  confess  that  he  did  not  know. 
He  was  dimly  conscious  of  possessing 
the  thing,  but  that  was  all,  and  so  it 
had  to  be  examined.  And  lot  it  proved 
to  be  a  little  thought,  the  thought  that 
his  ability  to  believe  in  fairies  raised 
him  above  his  fellows.  A  little  thought, 
hidden  away  right  at  the  back  of  his 
mind,  but  it  was  enough.  The  fairy 
regarded  it  sadly  and  shook  his  head. 

"  That  sort  of  pride,"  he  said, "  has 
ever  been  contraband  in  our  country. 
You  must  leave  it  outside." 

But  the  man  demurred,  offering  to 
pay  the  heaviest  duty  upon  it ;  for  he 
realised  that  the  thought  had  become 


a  living  part  of  himself,  even  as  his 
fingers  and  toes.  He  had  been  but 
vaguely  aware  of  it,  but  now  he  felt 
that  life  without  it  would  be  a  joyless 
thing. 

"  What,"  he  asked  plaintively,  "  is 
the  good  of  believing  in  fairies,  if  it 
does  not  make  one  a  superior  person?" 

But  the  fairy  inspector  was  adamant. 

"  Either  you  cast  that  aside,  or  you 
go,"  he  said. 

And  the  man  went. 

"  To-night  and  every  evening : 

GRAND  SOCIETY  CIRCUS 
The  most  remarkable  collection  of  trained 
animals  cvor  seen  in  London." 

Adit,  in  "  Evening  News." 

Shall  we  never  hear  the  last  of  this 
Tango  business  ? 


446 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


OUR   ANNUAL    MASSACRE. 

Major  Hertingfordhury  telegraphed  : 
Will    1,000  cartridges  bo 

I  replied:  "Thanks  very 


"Delighted. 

enough  '.' '' 
To  which 


much.    Will  last  me  nicely  for  season." 
Jim  s.'iit  a  post-card  :  "Right.    Sup- 
pose it's  going   to  be  like  last   yea 
Lunch  at  1.0?" 

The  weather  was  excellent.  So  was  th 
lunch.  1  pointed  out  that  they  shoul 
make  the  most  of  what  might  prov 
easily  the  best  feature  of  the  day,  an 
we  got  off  about  2.30  P.M.  Jarge,  th 
gardener,  scraped  his  boots  on  n  spade 
slung  the  potato-sack — I  should  saj 
game-bag—over  his  shoulder,  whistlei 
to  Spider,  and  followed  us  as  soon  a 
his  pipe  was  well  alight.  Jim  starei 
at  the  dog  in  an  extremely  offensiv 
manner,  but  said  nothing. 

Any  idea  of  walking  the  rough  fiel< 
in  line  for  a  rabbit  was  frustrated  b} 
the  spaniel.    I  had  left  strict  orders  fo 
him  to  bo  taken  a  long  walk  in  th 
morning     and,      if     possible,     to     be 
thoroughly  tired   out ;   but   the   brut 
had  kept  a  good  bit  in  hand,  and  we 
were  all  well  blown  before  we  got  bin 
on  a  lead.    This  delay  gave  time  for 
maid  from  the  house  to  catch  us  up 
with  the  news  that  the  men  had  finishec 
cleaning  out  the  ashpit  and  would  lib 
to  see  the  master  before  they  went.     '. 
sent  a  verbal  honorarium,  pulled   the 
shoot  together,  and  started  off  again 
We  spread  out  through  the  allotments 
the  occupants  courteously  ceasing  work 
to  note  our  passage,  and  entered  the 
stubble. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  stubble 

acres  and  acres  of  it,  with  only   one 

precious    patch   of    roots    into   which 

we  hoped  to  chivvy  the   birds — when 

found.     We  walked  and  walked ;  had  a 

breather;    walked  again,  and   at  last 

came  upon  them.     A  covey  of  thirteen, 

all  full-feathered  in  the  wing,  strong  in 

the  leg  and  keen-eyed.    Unluckily  they 

found  us  a  fraction  of  a  second  sooner 

than  we  did  them  and  hopped  over  a 

hedge.     We  nipped  round  and  chivvied 

cautiously  up  wind.     I  was  afraid  that 

Spider's  breathing  as  he  bore  on  the 

leash  would  put  them  up.    We  breasted 

rising  ground   and   saw   them.     They 

saw  us,  too,  and  began  running  towards 

the  station-sidings,  where  we  had  lost 

them  last  time.     Jim   and   I  doubled 

back  and  round  to  cut  them  off.     An 

engine  shrieked  and  the  birds 

wide  to   swing   round   behind  us  ... 

down  with  a  turn  of  wing  in  the  far 

meadow.      T1!-^    ji«~*.    ~K: 

failure. 

At  this  point  Major  Hertingfordbury 
came  up  and  asked  whether  we  in- 
tended driving  at  all,  as,  if  not,  his 


got  up 


The    first    chivvy    was    a 


man  could  take  his  second  gun  and  hi 
stick  back   to  the  houso  and  see  to 
few  details  on  the  car.     Jim  said  th 
birds  were  a  bit  wild,  but  how  wouh 
it  be  now  to   send   .largo   well  roun 
behind  them,  casual  like,  to  push  'en 
back  on  to  our  ground,  we  keeping  l 
in  tho  ditch  '.'    Jarge  said  that,  knowing 
Grierson's  cowman,  ho  thought  it  migh 
be  done  and  that  without  offence,  i 
anyone  would  take  on  Spider  for  a  bi 
and  the  light  held  up. 

It  worked  all  right.  The  cove] 
winded  him  tho  moment  he  crep 
under  the  stile  into  the  meadow  ;  they 
seemed  thoroughly  roused  now  and  go 
up  squawking  their  loudest.  They 
made  a  wide  circle,  shied  at  the  sidings 
and  finally  settled  in  the  roots.  It 
was  the  moment  of  tho  afternoon 
Jarge  returned  breathless  and  beaming 
There  was  no  time  to  shake  hands 
We  gave  Spider  back  to  him;  then, 
the  Major  in  the  centre,  Jim  and  I  on 
the  flanks,  pale,  grim,  and  at  the  ready, 
we  stole  up.  The  swedes  were  high, 
our  hopes  higher.  .  .  . 

I  still  think  we  might  have  got  them 
but  for  sheer  bad  luck.  Jarge  trod  on 
a  rabbit,  hit  at  it  with  his  stick,  and 
missed  it.  The  spaniel  barked  himself 
free  and  plunged  into  the  chase  witl 
all  the  pent-up  ardour  of  the  last  two 
hours.  His  idea  seemed  to  be  that  if 
he  only  jumped  high  enough  and  came 
down  hard  enough,  listening  for  a 
moment  between  whiles,  he  might  stun 
something  before  it  could  escape.  Like 
a  porpoise  at  play,  he  leaped  on  before 
our  outraged  eyes  and  raucous  voices. 
Well  out  of  shot,  sudden  as  pantomime 
ilemons,  the  birds  rose  around  him. 
Far  down  the  valley  they  skimmed — 
were  seen  as  specks  against  the  setting 


sun  as  they  rose  to  the  river 


then 


10  more.  , .' 

VVe  filled  our  pipes  and  walked  home 
n  silence.  As  I  stopped  behind  to  close 
.he  gate  there  was  a  pattering  of  feet, 
tnd  out  of  the  darkness  came  Spider, 
n  his  mouth  was  a  rabbit.  It  just 
>aved  us  from  a  blank  day. 


One  hesitates  to  accuse  any  class  of 
nen  of  cowardice,  but  the  following 
xtract  from  The  Post  Office  Guide 
eems  to  point  at  least  to  vicarious 
imidity  on  the  part  of  our  postal 
fticials:— "Packets  containing  liquids, 
reasy  substances,  or  live  bees  can  be 
ent  to  countries  in  the  Postal  Union, 
'hey  must  be  made  up  so  that  they 
an  be  easily  opened  for  purposes  of  in- 
pection,  with  the  exception  of  packets 
ontaining  live  bees,  which  must  be 
nclosed  in  boxes  so  constructed  as  to 


Jow  the   contents 
ithout  opening." 


to  be  ascertained 


GOOD    NEWS    FOR    RUPERT. 

(Suggested  l»j  an  inspiriting  para,/r,i/,h 
•upon  a  recent  exhibition  which  slated 
that  a  reaction  against  luxurious  uiu! 
effeminate  apparel  for  totj-doij*  lni'.l 
set  in.) 

So  long  as  Poms  and  Pekingese 

And  lordlier  tykes,  mayhap,  than  these 

Would  go  to  Bond  Street  tailors, 
And  every  day  adown  the  road 
One  saw  exotic  reptiles  lowed 
In  fancy  suitings  u  la  mode 

And  Homburg  hats  or  "  sailor  ;," 

I  also  did  my  humble  best 

To  have  my  Irish  terrier  dressed 

In  fairly  decent  clothing, 
Last  some  proud  darling  on  a  chain, 
Attached  to  Beauty's  chatelaine, 
Should  point  the  forepaw  of  disdain 

And  flout  him  as  a  low  thing. 

I  could  not  give  him  patent  boots, 
Nor  all  the  gear  of  hats  and  suits, 

That  made  these  playthings  too  pert 
But  what  my  humble  means  allowed 
I  may  be  poor,  but  1  am  proud), 
That  none  might  scorn  him  in  the 

crowd, 
I  freely  gave  to  Rupert. 

A  thickish  coat  of  homespun  tweed, 
A  cap  to  save  his  ears  at  need 
From  that  brute  of  the  vicar's, 
large-brimmed,  because  he  fights  with 

cats, 

?wo  pairs  of  purple-coloured  spats 
To  guard  him  from  the  bites  of  rats, 
And  two  of  football  knickers. 

Yes,  that  was  all.     Yet  I  may  say 
He  jibbed  at  even  this  display, 

He  simply  loathed  his  swathing ; 
You  should  have  seen  his  coat,  by  Jove, 
3n  days  when  he  decreed  to  rove, 
His  Tyrian  gaiters  turned  to  mauve 

By  dint  of  frequent  bathing. 

But  now  the  edict  issues  forth — 

iet  it  be  barked  from  south  to  north — 

Fashion  has  changed  her  habits ; 
he  hat,  the  gown,  the  sock,  the  snood 
Jave  sunk  into  desuetude, 
he  stout  goloshes  may  be  chewed 

As  substitutes  for  rabbits. 

And  Rupert — with  what  conscious  pride 
He  prances  at  his  master's  side 

And  leaves  him  at  his  daily  'bus: 
A  freer,  but  a  happier  hound, 
And  (gentle  ladies,  gather  round) 
I  think  quite  adequately  gowned 

In  pur  is  naturalibits.  EVOE. 

"  Crabbo  proposed  marriage,  which,  though 
followed  by  a  short  engagement,  never  came 
oft." — Daily  Chronicle. 

Perhaps  the  marriage  would  have  been 
more  successful  if  tho  engagement  had 
com'e  first. 


NOVKMHKU  >2C,,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIlAKIVAiU.  447 


"^ 

• 

MkA»\a 


Prowl  Member,  "Now  TELL  MB,  HOW  DID  YOU  FIND  OCE  GREENS ?" 
Distinguislied  Visitor.  "WELL,  YOU  SEE,  THEY  HAD  FLAGS  osi  THEM!  " 


THE    SUPER-AGITATOR. 

So  long  as  Mr.  JAMES  LARKIN  con- 
tinues his  timid  and  half  -  hearted 
methods  he  will  never  gain  that  full 
publicity  and  approval  which  lie  so 
much  desires.  Only  the  weaklings  were 
impressed  by  the  manner  in  which,  on 
his  return  to  freedom,  he  staggered 
Dublin,  shook  Ireland,  and  made  threat- 
ening grimaces  at  Great  Britain.  A 
really  competent  agitator  would  have 
staggered  the  earth,  shaken  the  solar 
system  and  shot  ink  into  the  Milky 
Way. 

A  Daily  Mail  writer  has  told  us  that 
"  if  Larkin  at  a  public  meeting  is  given 
the  lie  direct  he  jumps  from  the  plat- 
form and  hits  his  accuser  on  the  jaw." 
Surely  that  is  a  totally  inadequate 
method  of  dealing  with  such  an  amazing 
contretemps.  A  really  strong  man  would 
take  hold  of  the  chairman  and  hurl  him 
at  his  accuser,  striking  that  unhappy 
person  on  both  jaws  and  also  giving 
him  a  thick  ear. 

"Every  man,  woman  and  girl  who 


has  gone  back  to  work  while  I  have 
been  in  prison  must  come  out  again," 
LARKIN  is  reported  to  have  said.  But 
give  us  a  thorough  agitator,  he  would 
have  ordered  the  recall  of  all  the  Irish 
who  had  settled  down  comfortably  in 
the  United  States ;  he  would  have  wired 
at  the  same  time  to  the  Channel  Fleet 
to  be  off  Dublin  at  daybreak  and  await 
orders  for  proper  treatment  of  the  em- 
ployers ;  and  in  the  meantime  one  of 
his  assistants  would  have  forwarded 
instructions  of  different  kinds  to  the 
Lord  Mayor  of  LONDON,  Mr.  ANDREW 
CARNEGIE,  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR,  the 
LORD  CHIEF  JUSTICE,  and  even  Mr. 
JOHN  REDMOND  himself. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  LARKIN  has  been 
merely  toying  with  his  task.  It  may 
not  be  true  that  the  ideal  strike-leader 
never  sleeps ;  but  he  should  be  of  the 
stuff  that  demands  to  bo  wakened 
every  hour  so  that  nobody  else  may  be 
allowed  to  rest.  At  midnight  the  at- 
tendant rouses  him.  "Time  to  wake, 
Sir,"  ho  says,  keeping  his  jaw  well  out 
of  reach.  "Tell  O'Larrikin  to  'phone 


ASQUITH  that  I  want  a  Cabinet  meeting 
called  at  11.30  to-morrow,"  says  the 
great  one ;  and  he  settles  down  to  sleep 
again.  Opening  his  eyes  promptly  at 
the  next  reveille,  "  Ring  up  Dublin 
Castle,"  he  says,  "  and  tell  Lord  ABER- 
DEEN he  is  not  to  have  porridge  for 
breakfast."  At  2.0  A.M.  :  "  Tell  BIKRKI.L 
he  's  a  Red  Russian  ;  and,  if  the  line  'a 
engaged,  call  out  the  telephone  opera- 
tors " — and  so  the  night  would  drag  on. 
It  is  no  compliment  to  the  really 
capable  strike  -  leader  to  be  called 
Napoleonic  (a  term  applied  by  an 
evening  newspaper  to  LAUKIN).  If 
N.U-OLEON  were  alive  now  it  would 
be  a  risky  thing  for  him  to  venture 
near  a  first-class  agitator;  every  bone 
in  his  body  would  bo  in  jeopardy. 
"Damn  the  Empire!"  LARKIN  is  re- 
ported to  have  said ;  hut  it  is  still  not 
certain  that  what  he  has  said  he  has 
said.  If  he  wants  to  bo  really  popular 
and  respected  he  will  not  be  content 
with  so  mild  an  utterance.  LUIKIN 
must  really  pull  himself  together  and 
try  a  little  harder. 


L 


448 


UNCII,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


Maud  (to  governess,  after  liai  ing  receired  a  well-deserved  whipping  from  her  mother).  "  IT  ISN'T  THE  SMACKING  I  MIND    IT  's— ir  's 

UlUn   MAKING    HEBSELF   SO   UID1CULOUB." 


THE    "  FULL-STEAM  "    OPTIMIST. 


["The  real  tempest 
a  little  angry,  the  sky  ' 


est  is  over,  and,  although  the  wind  may  be  shrieking  through  the  rigging,  although  the  waves  may  still  look 
is  clear,  the  glass  is  rising,  and  we  know  in  a  very,  very  short  time  we  will  be  in  calm  water." 

From  a  speech  at  Uinmngham  by  Mr.  licdnwnd,  authcr  of  the  new  nautical  phrase ,  "Full  steam  ahead."] 


THE  worst  is  over,  the  storm  is  done, 

The  clouds  have  all  rolled  by ; 
Notice  how  nicely  beams  the  sun 

Out  of  a  nice  blue  sky; 
Long  have  we  been  the  blizzard's  sport 

Till  hope  was  as  good  as  dead ; 
But  now  we  are  pounding  straight  for  port 

At  the  word  "  Full  steam  ahead  !  " 

The  wind  (there's  some  of  it  still)  may  blo-.v 

And  the  waves  rise  ridge  on  ridge, 
But  the  Cabinet 's  stoking  down  below 

And  I  am  on  the  bridge; 
•Yes,  I  am  the  Captain  of  this  stout  ark, 

A  mariner  born  and  bred ; 
And  the  mercury  's  soaring  like  a  lark 

As  we  go  full  steam  ahead. 

There  never  was  such  a  loyal  crew : 

There 's  trusty  bosun  TIM  ; 
There's  mate  O'BRIEN,  as  true  as  true— 

I  'm  terribly  fond  of  him ; 
Rather  than  quarrel  with  friends  so  old, 

This  I  would  do  instead: 

I'd  clap  'em  in  irons  down  the  hold 

As  we  drive  full  steam  ahead. 


ASQUITH  and  WINSTON,  too,  I  like, 

Excellent  stokers  both  ; 
They  never  would  think  of  going  on  ttriko 

And  breaking  their  briny  oath'; 
They  may  prattle  of  rocks  that  leeward  lurk, 

Charted  a  bloody  red, 
But  they  soon  get  back  to  their  bunker-work 

When  I  shout  "  Full  steam  ahead." 

Thus  in  these  poor  brief  seaman's  rhymes 

Broadly  I  've  shown  the  gist 
Of  the  hopeful  signs  of  the  present  times 

That  make  me  an  optimist; 
There 's  no  sting  left  in  the  beastly  foam  ; 

We  can  die  (if  we  must)  in  bed; 
For  everything  points  to  a  clear  run  home 

As  we  forge  full  steam  ahead. 

O  loud  and  long  will  the  welcome  be 

(And  it's  going  to  come  quite  soon) 
When  we  cross  the  last  reef  (No.  3) 

Into  the  still  lagoon; 
Already  I  hear  the  local  smiles, 

For  which  we  have  toiled-  and  bled, 
Break  on  the  greenest  of  Blessed  Isles 

A*  we  plunge  full  steam  ahead.  O.  S. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI.— NOVEMHEK  26,  1913. 


PLEASE  PASS  STRAIGHT 
HROUGH  TO  THE 
ECRESS 


THE    EVEK-OPEN    DOOR. 

MR.  BIRBELL.  "  DON'T    TEMPT    ME    TOO    FAB,    MY    DEAR    CARSON,   OR    ON    MY    HONOUR 
AND    CONSCIENCE    I    SHALL    HAVE    TO    PUT    YOU    THROUGH    THIS" 


NOVKMIIKK  2(5,  win.]          PUNCH,   Oil   TIIK    LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


451 


"ON    APPRO." 

The  Gables,  Sarkchester. 

October  29,  1913. 

Mrs.  Berkeley- Migge,  will  In;  ^lad  if 
M<!-;srs.  Yulour  ;ind  Chatt  will  send  her 
a,  few  heavy  satin  routs  on  upp 
Tlie\  should  bo  quietly  smart,  well  cut. 
and  thoroughly  up  to  date,  with  small 
inside  pockets  if  possible. 

Oj-fonl  Strci'i,  London,  W. 

October  30,  1913. 

DEAN  MADAM, — In  reply  to  your 
esteemed  favour  we  send  four  satin 
coats  on  approval,  as  per  invoice. 
Trusting  that,  you  will  he  able  to  make 
a  selection,  We  are,  Yours  faithfully, 

VELOUB  AND  CHATT, 
Mus.  BERKELEY-BIGCE.        per  A. O.K. 

The  Gables,  Sarkchester. 

November  6,  1911. 

Mrs.  Berkeley-Bifjgo  regrets  to  say 
that  owing  to  unexpected  circumstances 
sbe  is  unable  to  keep  any  of  the  coats 
forwarded  by  Messrs.  Yelour  and  Chatt. 
She,  therefore,  returns  then),  per  rail, 
carriage  paid,  to-day. 
MESSRS.  VELOUH  AND  CHATT. 

Oxford  Street,  London,  W. 

November  7,  1913. 

DEAR  MADAM, — In  reference  to  four 
satin  coats  returned  by  you,  we  regret 
to  inform  you  that  No.  695  coat,  (it 
£8  19s.  6d.,  has  evidently  been  worn. 

We  shall,  therefore,  be  glad  to  return 
you  the  coat  upon  receipt  of  cheque  for 
the  amount. 

We  are,     Yours  faithfully, 

VELOUR  AND  CHATT, 
MRS.  BEHKELLY-BIGGE.        per  A.O.K. 

The  Gables,  Sarkchester. 

November  8,  1913. 

Mrs.  Berkeley-Bigge  is  utterly  at  a 
loss  to  understand  Messrs.  Velour  and 
Chatt's  extraordinary  communication. 
She  is  handing  their  letter  over  to  her 
solicitor. 
MESSUS.  VELOUU  AND  CHATT. 

The  Gables,  Sarkchester. 

November  8,  1913. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  STRAIGHTKR, — -Why 
should  I  pay  for  the  coat  ?  I  returned 
it  intact  to  those  stupid  drapers.  I  en- 
close details.  Yours  sincerely, 

ETHEL  B.  BERKELEY-BIGGK. 
EDWIN  STKAIGHTER,  ESQ. 

Lincoln's  Inn. 
November  13,  1913. 
DEAR  MRS.  BERKELEY-BIGGE, — Un- 
fortunately there  are  two  damaging  facts 
in  re  Velour  and  Chatt  and  the  satin 
coat :    (1)   A   Prayer-book,   with   your 
name  inside,  was  found  in  the  inside 
pocket  of  the  coat,  and  the  said  book 
is  still  in   the   possession  of   Messrs. 


...-.^v-* 


THE    ESCAPED    PARROT. 

Voice  (apparently  of  a  pheasant).  "Now  THEN,  WHO  ABE  you  BHOVIN'  !  " 


Velour  and  Chatt ;  (2)  The  head  mantle 
woman  at  V.  and  C.'s  was  sitting 
behind  you  at  St.  George's,  Hanover 
Square,  on  Nov.  3,  during  a  fashionable 
wedding.  She  recognised  you  and  the 
coat.  Yours  truly, 

EDWIN  STHAIGHTER. 
MRS.  BERKELEY-BIGGE. 

The  Gables,  Sarkchester. 

November  14,  1913. 
DEAR  MR.  STRAIGHTER. — The  whole 
thing  is  horribly  unjust.     Kindly  settle 
the  business   with   Velour   and  Chatt 
and  let  me  have  your  account. 
Yours  sincerely, 

ETHEL  B.  BERKELEY-BIGGE. 


Lincoln's  Inn. 
November  15,  1913. 
DEAR   MADAM. — Kindly   forward   us 
cheque  for  £8  19s.  Crf.  for  Velour  and 
Chatt. 

In  reply  to  yours,  our  little  account 
is  £2  2s.  (W.    Yours  faithfully, 

STRAIGHTER  AND  FACER. 
MRS.  BERKELEY-BIGGE. 


"  The  second  game  was  a  hollow  win  for  the 
i  visitors,  15-1,  in  which  tho  sccoud  string 
!  played  with  his  head." 

Eton  College  Chronicle. 

Hence,  perhaps,  the  hollowness. 


Please    ask    Velour    and   Chatt 
forward  coat  direct  to  the  Gables. 
EDWIN  STRAIGHTEH,  ESQ. 


to 


"  Fine  play  by  a  Swede." 

Manchester  Guardian. 

i  This  was  in  a  three-ball  match  with  a 
pheasant  and  a  mangold-wurzel. 


452 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


THE  BUTTON-HOOK. 

"On,"  said  Francosca,  coming  vigorously  into  the 
library,  "  so  you  'ro  back,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  'm  back.  I  really  am.  But  couldn't 
you  have  guessed  it  by  just  looking  at  me?  "Was  it 
necessary  to  make  me  say  so?  " 

"  How  was  I  to  be  sure  that  a  heap  of  shooting  clothes 
in  an  arm-chair  was  really  you?  It  might  havo  bcjn 
anything." 

"  No,  it  must  have  been  mo.  What  was  it  doing  when 
you  came  in?" 

"It  was  snor I  mean,  it  was  breathing  with  much 

regularity  and  heaviness.  It  almost  seemed  to  be  asleep." 

"Aoteep?"  I  said  doubtfully.  "  What  a  strange  thing! 
It  can't  have  been  me  after  all.  I  haven't  been  asleep. 
I  've  been  sitting  by  the  fire  and  thinking — thinking  of 
writing  lottors,  you  know,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  ;  and 


I  said,  "  you  'ro  beaten.     You  're  changing  the 


letting 


it  go  to  sleep.     It 's 


"Aha! 
subject." 

"No,"  she  said,  "I'm  just 
tired." 

"  Let  us,"  I  said,  "  have  no  more  of  this  bandying  of 
words.  What  was  it  you  were  pleased  to  ask?  " 

"  I  asked  if  you  had  shot  a  lot  of  things  to-day  ?  " 

"I  do  not,"  I  said,  "like  the  form  in  which  you  put 
your  question.  If  I  were  to  say  that  I  had  shot  a  lot  of 
things — 

"  You  would  say  so,  -wouldn't  you,  if  it  were  true?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  said  ;  "  it  would  savour  of  boastfulness." 

"  Well,  what  ought  I  to  say  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to  ask  me  if  wo  had  good  sport." 

"  Did  you  have  good  sport  ?  " 

"  Meek  and   submissive   one,"  I  said,   "  wo   did ;    but  I 

should  havo  enjoyed  it  more  and  shot  more  accurately -" 

Then,"  she  said,  "  you  didn't  shoot  your  best.     Why, 


seeing  pictures  in  the  glowing  logs;  and  resolving  to  be  up  oh,  why  do  you  always  bring  this  shame  upon  me?  We 

_-j  i.  L__*  women  sit  at  home  and 

knit — yes,  and  we  knit 
our  best,  and  the  men  go 
out  and  miss — 

"And  that,"  I  said, 
"  is  just  it.  Some  of  us 
got  most  frightfully  good 
at  missing.  It  is  an  art 
like  any  other.  I  myself 
was  not  in  my  best 
missing  form  to-day — — " 

"  But  why  did  you 
miss  at  all?  " 

"I  will  toll  you,"  I 
said,  "since  you  are 
determined  to  .  wring  it 
from  me." 

"  It 's  going  to  be  my 
fault,"  said  Francesca. 

"  You  have  guessed 
rightly ;  it  is.  I  shot 
below  my  true  form 
because  you  had  taken 
away  my  button-hook." 

"  Never." 

"  You  must  not  deny 
your  guilt.  I  found  it 
but  before  that  I  had 
and  corners  of  my 


and  doing,  and  to  beat 
down  things,  and  to  leave 
the  world  a  better  place 
than  I  found  it,  and  to 
strike  a  blow  for  free- 
dom and  good  govern- 
ment, and  to  pay  the 
rates  under  protest,  and 
to  try  a  new  trick  with 
high  pheasants  swerving 
to  the  right,  and  to  put 
on  my  slippers,  and — and 
lots  of  other  things.  My 
brain  was  very  busy." 

"  Adorable  dreamer !  " 
said  'Francesca.  "  And 
did  I  intenupt  you?" 

"  I  wasn't  dreaming," 
I  said.  "I  want  to  have 
it  clearly  understood  that 
I  was  thinking.  What 
you  mistook  for  heavy 
breathing— — " 

"Was  really  hard 
thinking.  Yes,  I  know. 
When  you've  sat  before 
the  fire  after  shooting 
I  've  often  heard  the  working  of  your  mind  quite  plainly." 

"  Francesca,"  I  said,  "  is  it  quite  lady-like  to  speak  so 
harshly  of  one  who  sometimes  has  a  ravelled  sleave  of  care 
and  tries  to  knit  it  up  ?  " 

"I'll  take  it  all  back  if  you'll  admit  that 
asleep  when  I  came  into  the  room  just  now." 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  cannot  do  that.     Woman,  would 
have  me — have  me  palter  with  the  truth  ?  " 

"  But  you  know,"  she  said,  "  you  did  sno — you  did  make 
a  funny  noise  in  the  back  of  your  nose." 

"  Of  course  I  did.  I  was  practising  making  noises  in 
the  back  of  my  nose.  It 's  the  new  Swedish  gymnastics. 
You  've  got  to  develop  every  part  of  your  body  to  the 
utmost,  and  naturally  you  can't  leave  out  your  nose. 
Listen :  Honk-ho-onk.  Wasn't  that  the  kind  of  noise?  " 

"  That  was  it,  more  or  less." 

"There  you  are.  It  is  Exercise  19  in  Professor 
Gustafsen's  System — the  hardest  of  the  lot.  However, 
I  've  mastered  it,  but  I  'm  not  going  in  for  the  Gustafsen 


["  Nothing  makes  a  stronger  appeal  to  the  man  of  business  than  a  clean  cut 
well-fitting  collar." — A.dvt.] 

Business  Man  (regarding  card  of  applicant  for  position) .  "  OH,  I  "M  TOO  BUSY 

TO  SEE  ANYONE.   ASK  HIM  TO  BE  SO  GOOD  AS  TO  LKAVE  HIS  COLLAK." 


you   were 


you 


gold  medal." 
"  Generous 


gymnast,"    said    Francesca,     "unsleeping 


guardian  of  our  domestic  hearth,  tell  me,  did  you  shoot 
a  lot  of  things  to-day?  " 


on  your    toilet-table 

it  through  all   the   nooks 


eventually 
hunted  for 

dressing-room.  The  time  began  to  slip  away.  At  last  I 
found  it  and  then  began  to  use  it  hastily  to  tighten  the 
laces  of  my  boots.  As  I  was  doing  this  a  lace  broke,  and 
my  innocent  hand  flew  up  and  struck  me  on  the  mouth. 
Eesult,  a  swollen  lip  and  an  agitated  mind.  So  you  see,  if 
I  shot  but  poorly  the  blame  must  rest  on  you." 

"  I  see,"  she  said,  "  I  see,  and  I  am  profoundly  sorry. 
But  why  did  you  not  mention  all  this  at  th«  breakfast-table 
this  morning,  so  that  we  might  have  comforted  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  not,"  I  said,  "  wish  the  children  to  know  that 
their  mother  was  a  petty-larcenist  of  button-hooks.  I 
preferred  to  suffer  in  silence." 

"  But,  you  know,"  she  said,  "  that  •wasn't  your  button- 
hook at  all.  You  haven't  got  one.  You  left  yours  in 
London  last  week." 

<"  So  I  did.    Then  that  rascally  button-hook  this  morning 
was  yours,  after  all.    Francesca,  that  makes  it  worse." 

"I  will  now,"  she  said,  "leave  you  to  practise  the  nine- 
teenth new  Swedish  exercise.  Honk-ho-onk.  And,  when 
you  've  done,  perhaps  you  '11  restore  my  button-hook  to  my 
room."  B.  C.  L. 


26,  1913.]          PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHAIM  VAI!T. 


453 


STUDIES   OP   REVIEWERS. 
I.  —  THE  OMNISCIENT   KUOTIST. 


(With  acknowledgments  toDu. 
LYNCH,  M.I'.) 

BISMARCK  once  told  me  of  an  evening 
at  VON  KANKK'S.  Tho  peat,  historian, 
then  in  his  eighty-fifth  ye;ir  and  hard 
at  work  on  his  Wcltijcschichtc,  was 
asked  whether  lie  thought  elegance  of 
style  was  of  vital  importance  in  his 
branch  of  loiters,  and  replied,  "  No 
more  than  your  favourite  mixture  of 
champagne  and  stout  is  essential  to 
the  making  of  the  German  Empire." 

I  have  boon  reminded  of  this  story 
by  the  perusal  of  Pout-  impressionist 
Musings  by  our  excellent  friend,  Orlando 
\V;unhley'.  The  volume  revives  in  my 
mind  the  old  conflict  of  the  Nominalists 
and  Realists,  DI:NS  SCOTUS,  THOMAS 
AQUINAS  and  BONAVKNTUHA,  Anis- 
TOPHELES  the  Trapezuntine,  Psittacus 
Ambulator,  and,  above  all,  Corcorygus 
the  Borborygmatic,  to  w.hom  Wambley 
is  the  most  perfect  modern  analogue. 
I  will  only  say,  whatever  you  read, 
never  allow  your  epistemological  bias 
to  doilect  your  mind  from  the  conceptual 
basis  of  an  altruistic  empiricism.  We 
are  all  post-impressionists  nowadays, 
but,  as  BEHGSON  once  remarked  to  me, 
when  I  criticised  his  gelastic  hypothesis, 
the  difference  between  "  post  "  and 
"  ante  "  is  an  arbitrary  convention.  As 
he  wittily  observed,  "even  a  postcard 
can  be  antedated."  SAPPHO  was  a 
post-impressionist,  so  were  PAUL  the 
Silentiary,  CONFUCIUS  and  HOKUSAI, 
whom  1  once  met  at  Prince  ITO'S 
bungalow  on  the  slopes  of  Fujiyama, 
where  HOKUSAI,  the  Baroness  ORCZY 
and  Mr.  WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOB  had 
taken  refuge  during  a  protracted  earth- 
quake. I  mention  these  names,  not  to 
emphasize  the  range  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, but  simply  to  illustrate  the 
advantages  of  foreign  travel.  It  is  true 
that  GIBBON,  whom  I  knew  intimately, 
once  observed,  "Conversation  may 
enrich  the  intellect,  but  solitude  is  the 
true  school  of  genius,"  and  my  friend 
FILSON  YOUNG,  who  once  lived  for 
seventeen  weeks  in  a  lighthouse,  is  a 
living  example  of  the  truth  of  the 
saying.  But  genius  can  be  gregarious 
too  ;  witness  GOETHE,  XOCHIMILCO  the 
Aztec  philosopher  —  with  whom  I  once 
spent  a  delightful  fortnight  at  his 
chalet  at  the  foot  of  Ixtaccihuatl  —  and 
BUNYAN,  whom,  alas  !  I  never  met. 

Personality  is  the  true  antiseptic  of 
literature,  and  in  this  vivifying  quality, 
I  regret  to  say,  the  work  of  our  excellent 
friend,  Wambley,  is  somewhat  to  seek. 
Thus,  though  he  gossips  cheerfully  of 
BAUDELAIRE  and  BARBEY  D'AUREVILLY, 
the  intimate  savour  of  personality  is 
lacking  in  his  pages,  and  I,  who  knew 


Mrs.  Macpherson  (always  careful  to  qualify  lier  remarks).  "  EH,  NURSE,  YOU  'BE  LOOKING 

BONXY   THE  DAY — OB  ELSE  IT  '8   ME  THAT  '8  NO  8EEIN1    BICHT." 


them  all,  look  in  vain  for  anything  that 
recalls  the  many  hours  spent  in  their 
stimulating  company.  Not  one  word 
is  said  here  of  PATER'S  moustache,  or  of 
BAUDELAIRE'S  green  socks,  or  BARBEY'S 
wonderful  nankeen  pantaloons. 

I  often  marvel  why  it  is  that  in  such 
a  book  as  Wambley's,  the  product  of 
an  esoteric  ccnacle  of  choice  spirits,  the 
application  of  the  craniometrical  test 
should  be  conspicuous  by  its  absence. 
I  know  that  the  Italian  anthropologist, 
SERGI,  has  led  a  revolt  against  metrical 
methods  of  all  kinds.  I  am  content  to 
take  my  stand  under  the  banner  of 
Poupinas  the  French,  and  Blodifol  the 
Hungarian,  expert.  SKOBELEFF,  who 
taught  me  scouting,  had  practically  no 
back  to  his  head.  PERICLES'S  head  was 
compared  to  a  sea-squill  or  sea-onion, 
which  has  a  large  acrid  bulbous  root. 
And  that  brings  me  to  the  important 
point  that  all  first-rate  genius  is  bulbo- 
cephalic.  SKOBELEFF  was  only  partially 
bulbocephalic — that  was  the  tragedy  of 
his  career.  As  the  late  Professor  VAM- 


BERY  said  to  me  at  Plevna, "  SKOBELEFF'S 
spheno-maxillary  angle  is  little  better 
than  a  gorilla's."  I  think  VAMBEBY 
went  too  far,  as  he  often  did,  but  to 
eliminate  this  aspect  of  geniusaltogether, 
as  our  excellent  friend  Wambley  has 
done,  is  even  more  reprehensible.  For, 
in  spite  of  all  the  fatuities  of  the 
so-called  phrenologists,  we  can  never 
get  away  from  the  basic  fact  that 
genius  varies  in  a  direct  ratio  with  the 
cubical  contents  of  the  cranium.  When 
I  offered  myself  as  a  pupil  to  HAFFKINE 
ho  said  nothing,  but  took  up  my  hat, 
and,  seeing  that  the  size  was  81, 
accepted  my  application  forthwith. 

Still,  I  admit  that  this  in  no  %vay 
justifies  my  venturing  to  sit  in  judgment 
on  a  pundit  like  Wambley.  But  I  feel 
that  the  foregoing  remarks  may  be  not 
without  their  interest  to  those  who 
recognize  that,  in  letters  as  in  life, 
personality  is  the  paramount  asset,  and 
that  the  louder  the  personal  note  is 
struck  in  journalism,  the  more  resound- 
ing must  be  the  success  of  the  journal. 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  THEORIST. 

l'.,i;  a  full  minute  the  excitement  was 
simply  t  iviiH-ndous.  The  ball  kept  bob- 
bing about  in  the  mouth  of  the  goal 
amid  a  perfect  frenzy  of  kicking  legs 
and  twisting  bodies,  behind  which  the 
goal-keeper  danced  on  his  toes  in  an 
agony  of  apprehension.  Then,  all  at 
once,  it  shot  clear  and  landed  at  the  foot 
of  our  outside  right,  who  without  hesi- 
tation raced  with  it  down  the  field.  \\o 
\\t-re  saved  again  ! 

"I  am  ready  to  wager,  Sir,"  said  the 

little   man   sitting  next   to   mo,  "you 

'were  not  aware  that  you  were  gripping 

the  edge  of  the  seat  just  then  as  if  your 

\c:  \  life  depended  upon  it." 

"Well,  what  about  it?"  I  asked 
coldly.  "  It 's  a  perfectly  natural  action 
at  such  a  time." 

"Just  my  point!"  he  cried  brightly. 
"  I  always  say  it  is  in  moments  of  great 
emotional  stress  or  excitement  that  the 
power  of  atavism  reveals  itself.  Ages 
and  ages  ago  our  ancestors,  living  in 
trees,  had  to  be  gripping  the  branches 
all  day  long.  Their  lives,  in  fact,  did 
depend  on  a  tight  grip.  And  so,  when 
you  got  violently  excited  just  now,  you 
simply  reverted.  You  grasp  the  idea?" 

1  tried  hard  not  to  listen  to  him. 
The  play  had  again  reached  an  acutely 
interesting  stage.  Sanderson,  our  out- 
side left,  had  just  forced  a  corner,  and 
was  about  to  take  the  kick  himself. 

"  Now  do  just  look  at  that !  "  cried 
the  persistent  voice  in  my  ear.  "Another 
really  remarkable  proof  of  my  theory. 
Did  you  notice  how  the  player  moistened 
his  hands?  What  possible,  what  con- 
ceivable reason  could  he  have  for  doing 
that,  since  he  is  about  to  kick  the  ball, 
not  to  pick  it  up?  Atavism,  I  assert, 
my  dear  Sir,  simply  atavism.  Far  back 
in  those  days  of  tree-dwelling,  of  which 
I  spoke  just  now,  our  ancestors  would 
naturally  moisten  their  hands  before 
some  great  effort — a  more  than  usually 
long  spring,  let  us  say — in  order  to 
ensure  a  good  grip.  Now,  you  observe, 
when  called  upon  to  make  a  supreme 
effoit  .  .  ." 

He  was  cut  short  by  a  shattering 
roar  of  applause  as  our  inside  right 
dodged  skilfully  round  the  opposing 
backs  and  sent  the  ball  whizzing  past 
the  helpless  goal -keeper.  One  ex- 
citable spectator  in  our  neighbourhood 
snatched  off  bis  hat  and  hurled  it  high 
into  the  air. 

"  Here  we  have  another  remarkable 
example  of  reversion,"  continued   the 
little  man  when  he  could  make  him- 
self heard.     "  Ages  and  ages  ago  our 
ancestors,    as    you    know,    wore    no 
clothes.      Gradually,    very    gradually, 
hey   acquired   the   habit   of  covering 
hernselves  with  skins  and  other  sub- 


stances. Now,  I  think,  after  a  little 
reflection,  you  will  admit  it  to  be  more 
than  probable  that  a  covering  for  the 
head,  or  hat,  was  the  last  article  of 
clothing  to  bo  adopted,  and  this  being 
so  it  is  naturally  the  lirst  to  be  dis- 
cai'ded  by  our  friend  when,  in  his 
emotional  moment,  he  experiences  this 
overpowering  instinct  to  revert  to  the 
primitive  state  of  mankind." 

Just  at  this  point  the  referee  gave  a 
foul  against  one  of  our  side,  and  in  the 
torrent  of  abuse  and  exhortation  which 
followed  I  missed  the  concluding  words. 

Hut  ho  had  by  no  means  finished. 
"Now  let  us  consider  the  manifestation 
of  anger,"  he  went  on  imperturhahly  as 
soon  as  the  noise  had  exhausted  itself. 
"  Ages  and  ages  ago  .  .  ." 

I  turned  upon  him  in  desperation. 

"  So  far  as  I  understand  ,  you,"  I 
interrupted,  "you  assert  that  in  a 
moment  of  supreme  emotion  a  man's 
actions  are  determined  by  atavism,  that 
he  does  precisely  what  ti  primitive  man, 
or  monkey,  if  you  like,  would  do  in 
similar  circumstances." 

"  Not  quite  as  I  should  have  put  it," 
he  replied,  "  but  still  you  have  the  idea." 

"Very  well,  then,"  I  went  on.  "I 
am  going  to  prove  that  you  are  wrong." 

"Good!"  he  replied,  rubbing  his 
hands  delightedly.  "  This  is  really  most 
interesting." 

"  You  were  about  to  deal  with  the 
manifestation  of  anger,"  1  continued. 
"  If  your  theory  were  correct,  a  man's 
instinctive  act  in  a  moment  of  intense 
irritation  and  annoyance  with  another 
man  would  not  be  to  snatch  out  a  pistol 
and  fire  at  his  tormentor,  or  to  draw  a 
dagger  and  stab  him,  but  simply  to 
seize  hold  of  him  and  attempt  to  bite 
him,  or  possibly  to  double  up  his  fist 
and  hit  him  between  the  eyes,  even 
though  he  realised  perfectly  well  that 
the  effect  of  this  would  be  trifling 
compared  with  the  effect  of  other 
measures  he  might  take." 

"Exactly,"  cried  the  other.  "You 
could  hardly  have  chosen  a  better 
example." 

"  You  are  wrong,"  I  repeated,  opening 
the  big  pocket-knife  which  I  always 
carry,  and  leisurely  testing  its  edge  on 
my  thumb.  "Ages  and  ages  ago  our 
ancestors  may  have  been  satisfied  .  .  ." 

But  he  was  gone. 


"South-Western  Districts  batted  first,  and 
at  the  luncheon  interval  had  lost  eight  wickets 
for  50  runs.  M.  G.  Bird  kept  wicket. 

Lunch  score.— South-Western  Districts,  50 
for  eight  wickets. 

Lunch.— South-Western  Districts,  50  for 
eight."— Manchester  Evening  Chronicle. 

We  are  a  little  slow  at  acquiring  a  new 
idea,  but,  when  once  it  has  penetrated, 
we  never  forget. 


A  TIME-HONOURED  TYRANT. 
["Tho  popular  helief  that  influenza  is  a 
comparatively  now  disease  is  quite  wrong;  it 
is  as  old  as  the  hills." — Daily  Chronicle.] 

LAST  year,  when  a  sudden  affliction 

Put  me  prone  on  the  pillow  of  pain, 
When    the    flu    brought    the    sombre 

conviction 

I  should  never  be  happy  again, 
Times  past,  although  rougher  and  ruder, 

To  me  seemed  unspeakably  blest, 
For  I  counted  this  chilly  intruder 
A  parvenu  pest. 

But  it  seems  I  was  making  an  error ; 

No  betteir  our  forefathers  fared  ; 
They  too  fell  a  prey  to  this  terror, 

If  their  woad  was  improperly  aired  ; 
It  watched  oury  historic  upheavals 

In  the  days  of  the  Saxon  and  Jute, 
And  harried  the  hapless  coevals 
Of  HARDICANUTE. 

For  this  in  their  wisdom  the  master 
Physicians  who  ruled  at  the  date 

Gave  BOADICEA  a  plaster 

And  bled  ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT, 

Or  (what  is  more  likely)  selected 
Some  quainter  medicinal  boon, 

Say,  the  tail  of  a  rabbit  bisected 
At  full  o'  the  moon. 

And,  could  we  obtain  his  confession, 

That  sage  of  the  cynical  snub, 
We  should   find    that    it    caused    the 

depression 

That  ruled  in  DIOGENES'  tub ; 
Proud  TAHQUIN  it  tortured  with  ill  ease, 

Kept  REMUS  a  prisoner  pent, 
And  fully  explains  why  ACHILLES 
Sat  tight  in  his  tent. 

Can  we  catch  consolation  from  knowing 

This  horror  by  which  we  are  hurled 

To  the  depths  of  despair  has  been  going 

Quite  strong  since  the  youth  of  the 

world  ? 
Dare  we  hope  it  has  long  passed 

high  day, 

That  writ  is  its  history's  page, 
And  that  haply  to-morrow  or  Friday 

'^..,111   ,1 :  _   _f  _iji   _ 


its 


'Twill  die  of  old 


age; 


DEAU 


A  Fond  Hope. 
MR.    PUNCH, — I   see    by   the 


papers  that  the  postmen  are  threatening 
to  come  out  on  strike  just  before  Christ- 
mas, but  I  am  afraid  it  is  too  good  to 
be  true.  If  they  only  would,  what  a 
halcyon  time  we  might  have  ! 

Yours,          OLD  FOGEY. 


"  Purple  is  a  colour  which  is  prominent  at 
present,  but  it  is  very  trying  to  some  com- 
plexions. It  looks  very  well  veiling  a  bright 
green." — Siinderland  li.iihj  Echo. 

So  if  any  of  our  women  readers  has  a 
bright  green  face  she  should  order  a 
purple  veil  at  once. 


NOVEMBER  26.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON    CIIARIVARL 455 

(We  learn  with  jilfnsurc  that  various  authorities  and  employers  arc  giving  facilities  for  Olympic  training.) 


A   STIIEKT    REFUGK    CONVERTED    INTO    A   TEMPORARY    BIXQ 
roil  THi:   USE  Off  NEWSBOYS  OFF  1>UTY. 


Crrr  POLICEMEN  USING  A  SAND-BIS  AS  A  VAUI.TIXO-HORSE  wuax  TIIINOB 

Alii:   SLACK. 


BltLISCSGATE    riSH-rOBTEUS    HIQH-DIVINQ     OFF 

BBIUUK. 


BF.RFKATEIIS   PBACTISISG   JAVELIK-THEOWIKQ  OS  THE  GIUSS  in 

Tilt  TOWEB  MOAT. 


L.C.C.    BOAD-MENDERS   DOINfi    LON\i   JUMPS   AND   HOBIZONTAL-BAB  WORK  DURING  TUE   DINNEB-HOUB. 


456 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVAKI.  [NOVEMBER  26,  1913. 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

"  GUEAT  CATHERINE." 
THE  best  form  of  charade  is  that  in 
which,  having  chosen  your  word— e.g., 
••  I'i  NCH" — YOU  proceed  in  dumb  show 
to  act  episodes  in  the  lives  of  famous 
people  whose  names  begin  with  the 
a  of  the  word.  Thus  you  would 
havo  live  characteristic  scenes  wherein 
figured  in  turn  PoMPBY.ULYSSBS,  NEHO, 
CHAUI.KS  I.,  and  HANNIBAL— or  any- 
body else  who  occurred  to  you.  Per- 
haps, very  late  one  evening,  having 
ahvady  used  up  CHAHLKS  I.  and  II., 
CROMWELL,  CANUTE,  and  JULIUS  C.*:SAU, 
the  name  of  CATHERINE  might  occur  to 
you— CATHERINE  II.  OF  RUSSIA.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  you  would  consider 
any  incident  in  her  life  to  be  sufficiently 
well  known  to  a  mixed  audience  to 
need  no  words  to  explain  it,  but  anyhow 
it  would  amuse  you  to  try.  After  all, 
charades  are  only  meant  to  amuse 
the  actors;  the  audience  is  there  at 
its  own  risk. 

At  the  Vaudeville  the  other  night  I 
felt  that  Great  Catlierine  must  have 
started  life  as  a  family  charade.  The 
incident  represented  was  probably  that 
in  the  fourth  scene,  where  Catherine 
tickles  a  trussed-up  English  prisoner 
with  her  foot.  She  mentions  casually 
that  this  is  her  favourite  torture, 
and  if  (as  is  quite  likely)  history  men- 
tions it  too,  then  it  would  be  a  scene 
which  an  audience  of  Mr.  SHAW'S 
friends,  better-read  than  myself,  might 
easily  recognise.  Possibly  Mr.  SHAW 
himself  played  the  small  part  of  A 
Cossack  Sergeant. 

And  then  next  morning,  so  I  picture 
it,  the  jolly  charades  of  the  previous 
night  came  back  to  Mr.  SHAW,  and 
in  particular  the  fun  which  they  had 
got  out  of  "  C  for  CATHERINE."  "  If 
only  we  had  been  allowed  words,  we 
could  have  had  a  lot  more  sport  with 
it."  Idly  he  played  with  the  idea  in  his 
mind,  giving  first  himself  a  few  words 
as  the  Cossack  Sergeant  (including  a 
joke  about  his  "  sweetbread/'  subse- 
quently used  three  times)  and  then 
allotting  an  occasional  speech  to  the 
others.  Gradually  his  ambition  for  it 
increased;  by  the  afternoon  he  was 
refreshing  his  memory  at  his  encyclo- 
pedia (CAN— CLE);  by  the  evening  the 
whole  thing  was  planned  out  in  his 
mind.  Next  morning  saw  him  at  work. 
Great  Catherine  (he  wrote).  A  thumb- 
nail sketch  of  Russian  Court  Life  in  the 
XVIII.  century.  In  Four  Scenes.  And 
before  he  went  to  bed  it  was  finished. 

So  only  can  I  explain  Mr.  BERNARD 
SHAW'S  new  play  at  the  Vaudeville.  I 
am  sure  it  amused  him  to  write  it ; 
I  am  sure  it  would  amuse  him  to  act 
it  with  his  friends ;  but  he  mustn't  be 


selfish.  Ho  must  think  of  the  amuse- 
ment of  others.  That  the  English 
have  an  elementary  sense  of  humour 
is  probably  his  opinion.  Captain 
Edxtadoii,  of  the  Light  Dragoons,  is 
shown  us  as  a  very  solemn  gentleman 
until  the  Russian  name  "  1'opoff"  is 
mentioned,  when  he  goes  into  fits  of 
laughter  ;  and  no  doubt  when  Mr.  SHAW 
himself  (in  Ciesar  and  Cleopatra)  got 
so  much  fun  for  us  out  of  the  mis- 
pronunciation of  Ftatateeta's  name  he 
was  purposely  writing  down  to  the 
English  level  of  humour.  But  there 
are  people,  in  his  audiences  who  are 
not  entirely  English — people  also  who 
havo  tome  feeling  for  Mr.  SHAW  and 
a  great  admiration  for  his  genius.  It 
is  a  pity  to  disappoint  them. 

To  Mr.  NORMAN  MC-KINNELL  I  owe 
most  of  my  laughter;  as  Prince  Potem- 
kin  he  was  delightful.  Mr.  EDMOND 
BREON  played  excellently  as  the  Eng- 
lish captain,  being  particularly  good  in 
his  last  speech,  and  Miss  GERTRUDE 
KINGSTON  was  the  Empress  Catherine 
to  the  life.  (Not  that  I.  ever  saw  the 
Empress  Catherine,  but  I  feel  now  as 
if  1  had.)  It  is  only  fair  to  say  that 
Great  Catherine  is  preceded  by  Between 
Sunset  and  Daivn,  a  play  which  of  itself 
demands  a  visit  to  the  Vaudeville. 

M. 

"!F  WE  HAD  ONLY  KNOWN." 

The  characters  that  pleased  me  most 
in  Mr.  INGLIS  ALLEN'S  play  were 
Meeks  and  A  Loafer.  Mceks  was  a 
Scots  maid-of-all-work  who  spoke, 
through  the  medium  of  Miss  JEAN 
CADELL,  with  a  fine  native  accent  and 
a  pleasant  directness  of  expression. 
A  Loafer,  though  he  caused  nearly  all 
the  subsequent  trouble  by  omitting  to 
post  a  crucial  letter,  was  only  on  just 
long  enough  to  state,  and  reiterate,  to 
Meeks  his  opinion  that  she  was  a 
"dirty  general  servant."  But  these 
two  smaller  parts  served  to  recall  the 
reputation  that  Mr.  INGLIS  ALLEN  made 
long  ago  in  literature  for  the  observant 
humour  which  he  brought  to  his 
dialogues  of  the  highways  and  byways 
of  humble  life. 

If  it  were  not  the  recognised  ambition 
of  every  humorist  to  be  taken  seriously 
one  might  have  been  surprised  at  his 
choice  of  such  a  theme  as  the  de- 
liberate avoidance  of  fatherhood  and 
motherhood.  There  are  grave  subjects 
which  yet  lend  themselves  to  a  light 
treatment ;  but  this  is  not  of  them,  if 
offence  is  to  be  escaped.  Mr.  ALLEN 
started  lightly,  but  when  once  he  had 
entered  on  the  domain  of  gynaecology 
and  obstetrics  he  found  little  chance 
for  humour,  and  had  all  his  work  cut 
out  to  spare  us  unnecessary  embarrass- 
ment. Here  he  managed  as  tactfully 


|  as  could  be  hoped.  For  the  rest,  I 
think  that  conscientiousness  was  his 
prevailing  virtue.  When  he  thought 
that  dull  and  futile  things  would  he 
said  in  real  life  he  never  hesitated  to 
make  his  characters  say  them.  I  am 
afraid  that  this  is  a  virtue  which  he 
will  havo  to  slough  if  he  means  to  go 
far  witli  a  British  audience. 

If  it  is  a  test  of  a  good  play  that  it 
should  arouse  sympathy  in  the  hearts 
of  I  he  audience  I  think  Mr.  ALLEN  has 
here  failed  of  complete  success.  One 
can  imagine  oneself  th  eply  moved  by  a 
father's  emotion  in  the  deadly  waiting 
hours  before  the  birth  of  his  first  child, 
but  unfortunately  tho  exhibition  of 
stupid  and  vulgar  misunderstanding 
between  husband  and  wife  in  the  First 
Act  (though  no  doubt  the  wife  could 
plead  the  excuse  of  her  physical  con- 
dition) had  permanently  disabled  me 
from  taking  more  than  an  academic 
interest  in  their  subsequent  histories. 
Then  again  I  am  always  annoyed  when 
a  woman  shows  a  morbid  hesitation — so 
rare  in  real  life  and  so  common  in  books 
and  plays — about  letting  her  husband 
know  that  she  is  to  bear  him  a  child, 
though  here  again  there  was  an  excuse 
for  the  wife  in  the  play,  who  understood 
that  her  husband  did  not  regard  his 
income  as  warranting  this  luxury. 
Thirdly  it  was  never  explained  to  us 
why  she  should  choose  to  consult  a 
lady-doctor  whose  male  friends  were 
offensive.  In  fact  we  received  the  im- 
pression (too  clearly  to  lose  it  later, 
when  the  author  wanted  us  to)  that  the 
heroine  was  Iralf  prude  and  half  vixen, 
and  in  consequence  the  question  of  her 
fate  in  child-birth  left  me  brutally  cold. 
Still,  when  all  is  said,  I  must  credit 
Mr.  ALLEN  with  an  honest  and  not  un- 
dignified attempt  to  glorify  parenthood 
as  the  brightest  joy  of  married  life  and 
the  most  satisfactory  solvent  of  its 
difficulties. 

The  jealous  irritability  of  the  wife 
in  the  First  Act  seemed  to  suit  Miss 
MARY  JERUOLD'S  gifts  better  than  the 
subsequent  pride  of  maternity.  Mr. 
MALCOLM  CIIEDKY,  as  the  husband,  was 
sincere  within  his  limitations;  and  Mr. 
RUDGE  HARDING,  as  a  medical  amicits 
curia,  went  meritoriously  through  some 
very  trying  alternations  of  humour  and 
homiletics. 

Miss  MADGE  MC!NTOSH,  as  the 
mother-in-law,  bore  the  unrelieved  ban- 
ality of  her  utterances  as  if  she  enjoyed 
it.  Mr.  PERCEVAL  CLARK  began  funnily 
as  a  parenthetic  observer  of  life,  but  his 
chances  tailed  off.  Finally  Miss  AIMEE 
DE  BURGH  (a  temptress)  needs  to  be 
reminded  that  an  affected  modification 
of  vowel  sounds  is  not  necessarily  a 
guarantee  of  great  wickedness  of  heart. 

O.  S. 


NOVKMHEK  26,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIAIMV.MII. 


457 


BEWARE 

PKKPOCKE 


AN    INSULT   TO    THE    PROFESSION. 

Shocked  Juvenile.  "OH,  MOTHEB!    FAIRIES  WOULD  SEVER  DO  A  THING  LIKE  THAT,  WOULD  THEY?" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IN  the  modern  literature  of  humour  Mr.  STEPHEN  LEACOCK 
is  what  the  Harlequins  used  to  be  in  Eugby  football.  He 
takes  risks.  Sometimes  he  will  try  for  a  joke  where  a  more 
cautious  man  would  have  perceived  that  no  joke  was.  But 
far  more  frequently  he  will  extract  humour  of  the  finest 
kind  from  absolutely  nothing,  and  score,  so  to  speak,  a  try 
from  his  own  goal-line.  In  his  latest  book,  Behind  the 
Beyond  (LANE),  he  is  in  brilliant  scoring  form.  I  can  see 
Behind  the  Beyond  breaking  up  many  homes  ;  for  no  family 
will  be  able  to  stand  the  sudden  sharp  yelps  of  laughter 
which  must  infallibly  punctuate  the  decent  after-dinner 
silence  when  one  of  its  members  gets  hold  of  this  book. 
It  is  Mr.  LEACOCK'S  peculiar  gift  that  he  makes  you  laugh 
out  loud.  I  am  a  stern,  soured,  sombre  man,  one  of  those 
people  who  generally  show  that  they  are  amused  by  a  faint 
twitching  of  the  lip ;  but,  when  Mr.  LEACOCK'S  literal 
translation  of  HOMER  on  page  193  met  ray  eye,  a  howl  of 
mirth  broke  from  me.  I  also  forgot  myself  over  the  inter- 
view with  the  photographer.  As  for  "  Behind  the  Beyond  " 
itself,  the  sketch  which  gives  its  title  to  the  book,  it  is  the 
last  word  in  polished  burlesque.  I  cannot  say  that  this 
book  has  actually  displaced  Mr.  LEACOCK'S  Sunshine 
Sketches  of  a  Little  Town  in  my  esteem,  for  that  classic 
created  a  new  world  for  me  and  has  a  place  of  honour  of 
its  own  on  my  shelves.  Sunshine  Sketches  was  super- 
LEACOCK.  The  present  volume  is  merely  Mr.  LEACOCK  at 


his  best.     But  I  respectfully  submit  that  that  is  worth 
four-and-sixpence  of  anybody's  money. 


Mr.  BOHUN  LYNCH  is  a  bold  man.  I  do  not  know 
whether  there  actually  exists  any  family  called  TibsJicif, 
but,  if  such  there  be,  these  are  days  in  which  they  might 
quite  possibly  bring  an  action  for  defamation  against  the 
author  of  Cake  (MCBKAY)  ;  because  the  whole  plot  of  his 
tale  hangs  upon  the  unpleasantness  of  being  called  1'ibshclf. 
I  must  say  I  agree.  It  seems  to  me  a  quite  beastly  name ; 
but  of  course  this  is  a  pure  matter  of  opinion.  In  Cuke 
there  are  some  wholly  charming  persons  called  Luffiiujham, 
who  own  a  delightful  old  house  as  picturesque  as  themselves, 
but  not  enough  ready  casii  to  support  it.  To  them  comes 
the  chance,  through  a  will,  of  wealth  attainable  only  on 
condition  of  calling  themselves  Tibshelf.  Well,  of  course  it 
wouldn't  be  exactly  a  happy  exchange;  but  I  do  think  that 
Mr.  LYNCH  makes  too  much  fuss  about  it.  To  him  evidently 
a  Luffingham  by  any  other  name  would  by  no  means  smell 
so  sweet.  However,  his  characters  seem  to  have  been  of 
my  opinion ;  for  half-way  through  the  book  you  find  them 
basking  contentedly  enough  in  the  affluence  that  this  name 
of  Tibshelf  confers.  They,  in  short,  eat  their  cake  with  an 
appetite.  And,  after  all,  the  ingenuity  of  their  creator  was 
to  find  a  way  in  which  they  could  falsify  the  proverb  and 
still  have  it.  What  that  way  is  I  shall  not  explain  ;  though 
indeed  the  plot  of  this  story  is  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
pleasant  way  in  \vhich  Mr.  BOHUN  LYNCH  tells  it.  He  has 
the  gift  of  a  chatty  and  yet  witty  style  that  forces  you  to 


453 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  26.  1913. 


become  a  friendly  listener  to  even  the  thinnest  tale.  And 
there  is  one  character,  an  aggressively  broad-minded  parson, 
for  whom  alone  the  book  should  be  read  as  an  awful  warn- 
ing by  the  entire  Clergy  List. 

Between  ourselves  and  ELLEN  THORNEYCBOFT  FOWLER 
there  is  by  now  a  complete  understanding  based  upon  the 
jovial  acquaintance  of  years  and  in  no  way  affected  by  the 
less  familiar  "THE  HONBLE.  MRS.  ALFRED  FELKIN  "  which 
lias  more  recently  taken  to  appearing  in  brackets  on  the 
title-page.  It  is  tacitly  agreed  that  all  our  attention  shall 
be  concentrated  on  the  dialogue  and  that  the  plot  be  left 
to  take  care  of  itself;  no  offence  will  be  caused,  then,  when 
I  remark  that  the  machinery  of  Her  Ladyship's  Conscience 
(HODDKR  AND  STOUGHTOx)  is  crude 
and  primitive  and  creaks  a  good 
deal.  The  book  is  less  a  story 
than  an  animated  Burke 's  Peerage; 
a  pocket  collection  of  Dukes  and 
Duchesses,  Dowagers,  Marquises 
and  other  aristocrats  who 
thoroughly  discuss  themselves  and 
each  other,  as  illustrating  the 
foibles  of  humanity  and  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  Divine  Providence. 
It  is  the  conscientious  Lady  Esther 
who  brings  grist  to  this  conversa- 
tional mill  by  denying  herself  the 
love  of  Lord  Westerham  on  the 
score  of  divergent  ages,  thus  letting 
in  the  youth  and  beauty  of  the 
soulless  Beryl  to  secure  the 
coronet  and  lead  the  soulful  lord 
to  disillusion  and  dismay.  So 
much  for  the  main  idea.  As  to  the 
talk  to  which  it  gave  rise,  be  it 
said  that  this  is  as  fresh  and  as 
witty  as  ever  and  full  of  the  most 
delightful  obiter  dicta.  I  must, 
however,  note  a  tendency  in  our 
authoress  to  lecture,  even  to  preach 
at  us,  sometimes  through  the 
mouths  of  her  characters,  but  more 
through  her  own.  At  one  time  I 
found  myself  sympathising,  out  of 
pure  devilry,  with  the  flippant 
naughtiness  of  Beryl  as  contrasted' 
with  the  utter  godliness  of  Lady 
Estiier;  and  I  was  quite  upset 
when  ths  former,  to  pave  the 


done  both),  they  meet  all  fortunes  with  a  smiling  pair  o 
hearts. 

"  He  who  is  light  of  heart  and  heels 
Can  wander  in  the  Milky  Way." — Provencal  Proverb. 

Somewhere  an  editor  tells  them  :  "  It 's  the  great  complaint 
against  life  that  it 's  so  little  like  the  books."  But  tr--* 
does  •  not  worry  the  author ;  sho  just  goes  on  with  1 
delightfully  impossible  story,  revelling  shamelessly  in  the 
kind  of  coincidences  that  never  think  of  occurring  outsidt, 
books.  It  is  only  as  an  artist  that  she  takes  hersel 
seriously,  growing  really  eloquent  about  colour  and  the 
values  of  shadows.  Her  sense  of  beauty,  though  apparenl 
throughout  the  book,  gives  a  special  charm  to  the  storj 
of  her  journey  through  Provence,  and  I  was  particular!) 
grateful  to  her  for  refreshing  my 
memory  of  the  little-known  marvels 
of  Les  Baux,  where  the  troubadours 
held  their  Courts  of  Love  ;  Les 
Baux,  the  headquarters  of  "  gilded 
platonics,"  "  the  most  wonderful 
place  in  the  world."  And  a  very 
suitable  scene  for  the  first  stage  ol 
the  "pilgrimage"  of  this  pair  with 
whom  "  platonics  "  were  a  fine  art. 
Indeed  (for  I  will  say  nothing  about 
the  repellent  shape  of  Peter's  head 
in  her  clever  frontispiece  picture) 
my  only  serious  complaint  of  Miss 
JKSSK'S  work — a  curious  criticism 
to  make  in  this  age  of  the  sexual 
novel— is  that  she  carries  sexless- 
ness  to  the  verge  of  indecency. 
The  innocence  of  these  two— of 
Peter,  anyhow,  who  is  also  a  little 
too  precious  at  times  —  seems 
almost  more  than  one  can  bear; 
and  there  is  at  least  one  episode  in 
the  book  which  may  be  yen'  good 
milk  for  babes,  but  is  rather  strong 
meat  for  grown  men  and  women. 


THE  SPEEAD  OF  TANGO. 
ARHEST  OF  A  MILITANT  SUFFRAGETTE. 


way  for   the  latter's  ultimate  reward,  was  overtaken   by 
dden  death  in  the  last  chapter  but  one,  though  I  must 
that  I  had  been  expecting  it   since  about   the  first 


own 


hapter  but  two. 


In  The  Milky  Way  (HEINEMANK),  by  Miss  F.  TENNYSO* 
JESSE,  there  is  a  very  pleasant  fusion  of  matter  and  manner 
L he  light-hearted  courage  of  the  true  Bohemian  is  presented 
vith  the  bravest  gaiety  of  style.    It  is  true  that  both  Vivien 
ills  the  story,  and  Peter,  who  shares  her  unchaperoned 
idyentures,  have  deliberately  chosen  poverty  for  the  sake 
f  freedom  of  soul ;  but  this  does  not  make  their  experience 
any  less  exhilarating  either  to  themselves  or  to  us.   Starting 
cquamtance  on  a  ship  that  easily  gets  wrecked;  actin*  in 
h-rate  circus-drama;  chalking  pictures  and  selling  flowers 
on  the  pavement ;  playing  in  a  tent  on  tour,  and  ending  up 
with  a  Sentimental  Journey  out  of  which  they  make  between 
them  a  commissioned  book  (he  doe5  the  letter-press  and 
o  pictures,  though  I  'm  sure  she  could  easily  have 


days   when    we 


Mr.  JEFFERY  FARXOL  has  me  at 
las  mercy,  for  no  sooner  do  I  begin 
to   read   about  his   roistering,  be- 
wigged,  tender-hearted  blades  than 
what   critical    faculty    I    have    is 
stifled ;  I  become  passionately  eager 
'o  cross  swords  and  swagger  with 
he    best   of   them,  and  my  heart 
s    possessed    with    envy    of    the 
referred    to    our    friends   not    as    "two- 


handicap  "  but  as  "  two-bottle  "  men.  The  quality  of  his 
work  I  could  praise  unendingly,  but  in  The  Honourable 
Mr.  Tawiiuh  it  is  possible  to  regret  the  meagre  quantity 
of  it.  In  The  Broad  Highway  and  The  Amateur  Gentleman 
we  were  given  abundant  measure,  but  not  even  Mr.  BROCK'S 
illustrations  make  up  for  the  fact  that  this  book  only 
occupied  me  for  an  hour.  It  was  a  crowded  hour  enough, 
for  Mr.  FAHNOII  has  never  written  anything  more  exhilarat- 
ing than  his  account  of  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Tawnish  to  prove 
himself  worthy  of  Penelopo  Chester,  nor  has  he  ever  been 
more  completely  master  of  his  plot.  His  tendency  to 
ramble  is  gone,  which  means,  I  suppose,  a  better  craftsman- 
ship, though  I,  for  one,  would  always  be  glad  to  ramble 
with  him  when  he  gives  me  the  chance. 


"  Broken-hearted.— Try  sucking  lemons."— Yorkshirt  Gazette. 
If  only  Borneo  had  known  of  this  in  time. 


I)K(  KMHKII    3,    1913.] 


PUNCH,   OH   Till':   LONDON   CIIAIMVAIM. 


CHARIVARIA. 


guide  airmen.  \\  o  should  have  thought 
that  it  would  have  been  better  to  have 
Mu.  GORDON  HARVEY, a  Radical  M. P..  tho  names  there,  but  to  alter  them  on 

lias   declared   that  ho  will   resign    his;  the  outbreak  of  hostilities.     It  would, 

M-at    rather   than    vote    for    a    bigger   for  instance,  lead  to  a  rare   scene  of 

navy.     Tho  country  is  thus  placed  in   confusion    if    a    German    general,    on 

tho    awkward    dilemma   of    having    to ' 

decide    which  it   would    rather   lose — 

Mr.    HAKVKY,    or    the    Empire.     It   is 

scarcely  fair  of  Mr.  HAUVKY  to  place 

us  in  such  an  embarrassing  position. 


r<  aching  what  he  imagined  to  he  Paris, 
were  to  find  it  labelled  ••  P.alliam." 

Mr.   P.  AM.U  in   Tu.iiOT,  a  commis- 


word  of  complaint  from  the  15ishop  of 
KKNSINGTON  in  regard  to  tho  costuniiiH 
in  Oli  !  I  siii/  !  it  is  announced  that  Ilia 
entire  play  has  been  re-dressed. 

It  has  been  decided  by  the  Divisional 
Court  that  sheep  that  pass  in  the  night 
need  not  carry  tail-lights.  This  is  jusl 
as  well,  for,  even  had  it  been  decided 
otherwise,  it  would  always  have  boon 


sioner    of    Southern    Nigeria,    in    the   possible  to  allege  that  the  sheep  had 
course  of  a  journey  in  tho  Eket  district   left  their  tails  behind  them. 


The  fact  that  Miss  WILSON,  thedaugh- ,  came  a^ro-;s  traces  of  bird-worshippers,  j 
tcr  of  the  PRESIDENT  OF  THE   USITKD    For  aviators  on  tho  look-out  fora  now 


Si  vn;s,  \\a-i  married  quietly  last  weak,    religion,  hero  smoly  is  the  very  thin 
is  said,. to.  bo   resented  keenly  by  Mr. 


According  to  The  J!eli<iii>iii>  Telescope, 


KOOSKVKLT,  who  considers  tliis  reversal 
of  his  policy  a  slight  upon  himself. 

By-the-by,  the  word  "  Obey "  was 
omitted  from  tho  mar- 
riage service.  President 
HUEHTA  is  said  to  have 
noted  this,  and  ex- 
pressed himself  as 
willing  to  enter  into 
closer  relations  with  the 
United  States  on  these 
lines.  .,.  y. 


It  has  now  transpired, 
with  reference  to  Mr. 
LLOYD  GEOHGK'S  recent 
visit  to  Oxford,  that 
there  was  a  scheme  on 
foot  to  kidnap  the 
CHANCELLOR  after  the 
debate  and  duck  him 
in  the  fountain  of  a 
certain  college  quad. 
News  of  the  plot  .leaked 
out,  but  Mr.  GEORGE 
laughed  at  tho  danger 
and  refused  to  make 
his  speech  in  bathing 
costume. 


It  is  proposed  that  our  public  tele- 
phone boxes  shall  bo  equipped  with 
writing  pads.  It  would  be  an  act  of 
humanity  if  at  the  same  time  a  shelf 
of  readable  books  could  bo  added  to 
enable  one  to  while  away  the  weary 
hours  of  waiting. 


Accordin      to 


timber  fires  lately. 


the     official     organ     of     the      I'mted 
Brethren,  of  Dayton,  Ohio,  somnolence 

a  contemporary,  the  j  is  often  duo  to  the  sober  colour  scheme 
militants  "are  losing  their  heads."  j  of  a  church.  Parsons  all  over  the 
There  certainly  have  been  a  good  many  world  will  be  delighted  to  hear  tho 

true  physical  reason  why  so  maii\  wor- 
shippers give  up  tho 
fight  soon  after  the 
sermon  begins. 

"ROMAN    REMAINS    IX 

NOKFOLK," 

announces    a    con- 
,  temporary.      I3ut  why 
shouldn't  he'.' 

It  is  pointed  out  that 
our  winters  are  now 
always  la'.e.  One  more 
sign  of  the  growing 
habit  of  unpunctuality 
in  our  degenerate  age! 

A  Baltimore  gentle- 
man has  married  a 
veiled  lady  whom  ho 

Fare  (long past  tier  destination).  "  WHY  DOESN'T  HE  STOP,  COSDUCTOH?  1  PULLED  did   not  see  until  after 
THE  UELL  A  LONG  WHILE  AGO."  tlio  ceremony.   Wecan- 

Conductor.  "  VERY  SORRY,  LADY.    I  CAN'T   GET  'IM  TO  STOP  NO'.VHEHI:  THIS  .  no^  |,eln  thinkin"  that 

i — SAYS    'li  '  .  ,    -        .      "i 

this  is  done  more  ire- 


JOURNEY  —  NOT   PROMPT-LIKE  —  'E  '8  THAT    BENT   OS   BEATINO   NUMBER  498  —  SAYS 


'AS  TO  STOP   WHERE    'E   CAN   AFFOItD  TO." 


*  * 
The    Montrose    Town 


Council  has 
arranged  with  the  War  Office  that  a 
largo  portion  of  the  •  Montrose  Golf 
Links  shall  be  used  a3  an  aviation  base. 
How  is  it  that  there  has  been  no  out- 
cry against  this?  It  really  does  begin 
to  look  as  if  the  nation  were  losing  its 


On  the  ground  that  they  would  be  of 
use  to  a  hostile  army  in  war  time,  the 
French  War  Minister  has  forbidden  the 
painting  of  tho  names  of  French  towns 
on  the  roofs  of  their  railway  stations  to 


The  Tango  craze  shows  no  'sign  of 
slackening,  and  there  is  a  rush  for  any- 
thing that  resembles  it.  For  example,' 
last  week  as  many  as  two  gentlemen 
named  TAXGYE  are  reported  to  have 
been  sued  by  their  wives  for  restitution 
of  conjugal  rights. 

:;:     •/< 

To  judge  by  the  following  notice 
exhibited  in  a  provision  shop,  Election 
Eggs  have  had  their  day  : — 


BY  OUDEU  OF  in  :  SANITARY  INSPECTOR. 


MUST     BE     SOLD. 


A   LARGE   STOCK  OP 

ELECTION    PHEASANTS. 


Garments  of  tiger-skin  are  the  latest 
freak  of  fashion  in  Paris.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  there  is  nothing  new  in  the  idea. 
Tigers  have  worn  them  for  years. 

Although   we   have   never   heard    a 


quently  than  one 
imagines,  and  may  be  the  explanation 
of  many  a  union  which  has  puzzled  us. 


with 


Commercial  Candour. 
"Twenty-five  years'  reputation 
ivery  tyre  sold."  —  Adrt. 
Manuger  (despairing  I  ij,  as  he  makes  out 
the  bill).  Another  twenty-live  years' 
reputation  gonet 


"Alex  Sweek  of  Portland,  Ore.,  has  boon 
selected  by  President  Wilson  to  bo  minuter  to 
Siam." — Harannah  Morniiuj  Neu'S. 

This  is  headed  "  Typhoon  sweeps 
Guam,"  in  order  to  catch  the  eye  of 
those  of  Mr.  SWEEK'S  friends  who  might 
otherwise  miss  it. 


"Sunday  Nov.  30th,  8  o'clock.  Speaker: 
Mr.  A.  Horspool  (Ora).  'A  I>efence  of  the 
Super-tanaurletaoin  shrdlu  ctaoin  bhrdul 
cmfwyp  natural.'  " 

It  wants  no  defending ;    it  speaks  for 
itself. 


460 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  3,  1913. 


A    UNITED    FAMILY. 

(Dedicated  with  best  regards  to  tho  Chief  Secretary.) 

[At  the  last  performance  in  his  orgy  of  oratory  at  Bristol,  Mr 
BmitKLL  is  reported  to  have  said : — 

"During  the  last  two  days  the  Cabinet  have  sat  for  a  eonsiderabl 
cumoi-r  of  hours.  I  have  been  present  at  those  deliberations,  an 
all  I  say  is — dismiss  fr^m  your  minds  anv  notion  that  thero  is  an 
difference  of  opinion.  We  are  one  and  all  behind  tho  Pr.inj  Minister 
.  .  .  \VearoaunitedGoverninent." 

Subsequently,  in  addressing  the  National  Liberal  Federation  a 
Leeds  Mr.  Asguim  endorsed  this  allegation  of  perfect  unanimity.] 

THINK  not  that  I  would  lightly  play 

Like  a  buffoon  or  comic  mime 
With  this  grave  theme  that  night  and  day 

Has  tasked  my  manhood's  serious  prime ; 
Others  may  choose  to  trifle,  but 

It  is  not  so  with  Bristol's  BIRHELL, 
Who  owns  that  Ireland  is  a  nut 

That  might  unnerve  the  stoutest  squirrel. 

Nevertheless  I  plead  excuce 

If,  just  for  once  in  all  this  while, 
I  let  my  solemn  features  loose 

And  lapse  into  a  pensive  smile ; 
I  cannot  help  it  when  I  meet 

With  men  who  think  (oh,  how  erroneous!) 
Our  dovecote  up  in  Downing  Street 

Might  possibly  be  more  harmonious. 

I  have  been  there  and  taken  part 

In  high  debate,  and  so  I  know, 
And  I  assure  you,  on  my  heart, 

'Twas  "  like  a  little  heaven  below ; " 
There  was  not  one  at  that  bright  board 

Who  m'uti'neered  or  even  muttered ;  - 
When  ASQUITH  spoke  we  all  encored, 

We  echoed  every  word  he  uttered. 

Though  on  the  platform  GBEY  invites 

The  conversazione's  aid, 
While  RUNCIMAN,  with  lesser  lights, 

Cries  "  Blood  1 "  and  bares  his  infant  blade ; 
Though  various  voices  float  through  space 

From  dulcet  coos  all  down  the  gamut 
To  roarings  in  a  DEVLIN  bass 

("Sure,  who's  afraid' of  Ulster,  damn  ut!")— 

Yet  on  my  conscience  I  protest, 

And  for  a  token,  as  I  speak, 
I  lay  this  hand  upon  my  chest, 

This  tongue  against  my  bulging  cheek— 
I  swear  (and,  when  I  swear,  you've  got 

Something  that  you  may  safely  trust  in)— 
We  are  a  most  united  lot ; 

Believe  me,  Truly  yours,  AUGUSTINE. 

======  °'S' 

Bishop  BOYD  CARPENTER  as  reported  in  The  Times :— 


of 


»l,f.,         °u   S?JiDg  t0  the  children,  'You  shall   not"  do  this   or 
that,    they  should  81y,  -You  should  keep  the  whole  of  that  KreaT 
orsamsin  wh.eh  God  has  put  into  your  care,  with  its  delicate  forces 
physical     moral,    and   intellectual,    in    such   a  state    of    healthful 
activity  that  they   shall  bo  combined  in  your  own  i 

your  d£."  •  *°  ^  r°al  POWOrS  f°r  g°°d  th™°"h  the 


Harold  (continuing  to  pull  the  cat's  tail).  "What  did  you 
say,  mother?"     (She  says  it  again.) 


HOW    WE    LOST   A    LITTLE    DOG. 

I  MAY  say  that,  for  better  or  for  worse,  our  house  is  a 
doggy  house,  and  there  is  always  a  considerable  amount  of 
cheerful  tail-wagging  going  on  in  it.  Amongst  others  who 
have  dedicated  to  our  use  their  genius  for  friendship  and 
affection  we  reserve  a  high  place  for  Soo-ti,  a  dusky  little 
Pekinese  who  for  two  years  has  been  our  gay  and  insepara- 
ble companion.  I  have  spoken  of  him  before.  To-day  I 
propose  to  relate  a  crisis  in  his  existence. 

Soo-ti  has  all  the  engaging  characteristics  of  his  race. 
He  is  shaped  on  a  leonine  model,  heavily  maned,  broad- 
lieaded,  thin  in  the  Hanks;  his  nose  turns  up  most  per- 
versely, and  his  eyes  are  large,  luminous  and  expressive. 
Ho  is  a  compact  embodiment  of  all  the  obstinacies,  inde- 
pendences and  humorous  wilfulncsses  that  have  always 
been  found  in  spaniels  of  his  breed.  His  courage  "is 
tremendous.  He  faces  a  cart-horse,  a  mastiff  or  a  motor- 
:ar  with  equal  coolness  and  disdain,  always  walking  by 
preference  along  the  centre-line  of  whatever  road  he  happens 
ip  be  on,  and  refusing  to  budge  for  vehicles  of  any  descrip- 
tion. How  ho  escapes  destruction  I  cannot  understand; 
>ut  there  seems  to  be  amongst  coachmen  and  carters  and 
chauffeurs  in  our  district  an  agreement  that  ho  is  to  be 
considered  a  sort  of  policeman's  hand,  and,  when  his  airy 
mpudence  is  Ee.-n  swaggering  along,  trailic  stops  and  even 
>utchers'  carts  delay  the  delivery  of  joints  in  order  that 
Soo-ti  may  walk  unscathed. 

Such,  then,  was  and  is  Soo-ti,  endeared  to  us  by  much 
wickedness  and  many  virtues,  and  not  least  by  his  infinit- 
esimal size.     He  is;  indeed,  an  absurdly  small  compendium 
of  all  that  is  great  and  glorious  in  dogdom.    With  one  little 
land  a  child  can  lift  this  tiny  mass  of  faith  and  arrogance 
of  devotion  and  defiance,  into  the  air,  hold  it  out  atom's 
ength  and  deposit  it  on  a  sofa  cushion,  where,  after  its 
brae  ritual  circlings,  it  goes  to  sleep  and  becomes  a  mere 
ittle  black  blot  on  its  soft  bed.     We  had  watched  Soo-ti 
;row  up  from  puppyhood,  but  he  had  never  seemed   to 
become  larger,  and  whenever  we  spoke  to  him  or  thought 
of  him  it  was  in  terms  of  diminutiveness. 


Now  it  happened  that  some  eight  weeks  ago,  Soo-ti  was 
uddeuly,  and  without  being  in  the  least  aware  of  it,  pro- 
noted  to  the  honourable  state  of  being  a  father—"  Sire  "  is 

believe,  the  technical  term.  A  puppy  was  assigned  to  us' 
was  duly  invested  (in  absentia)  with  the  name  of  Piik— 
hort  for  Puk-wudjie— and  was  yesterday  fetched  away 
rom  its  agitated  and  protesting  mother  to  its  new  home  in 
3ur  midst.  We  were  all  gathered  to  receive  it,  and  when 
eleased  from  its  basket,  it  was  set  down  upon  the  floor  there 
vas  a  universal  shout  of  joy  and  admiration.  It  was  an  ador- 
able ball  of  soft  and  seemingly  boneless  black  fluff,  so  small 
hat  a  man's  coat  pocket  could  easily  contain  it,  and  save 
or  a  white  shirt-frill  and  four  sets  of  tiny  white  toes  it  was 
he  born  image  of  its  father,  who,  as  it  chanced,  was  not 
iresent  when  it  was  unpacked.  It  began  its  new  life  with 
nthusiasm,  licked  whatever  hand  or  cheek  it  could  lay  its 
oral  tongue  to,  waddled  about  the  room  or  turned  itself  on 
,s  back,  submitting  to  everything  that  fate  might  decree  for 
..got  up  and  gave  three  short  prances  that  brought  it  into 
ollision  with  an  armchair,  sat  down  gravely  and  looked  out 
pon  this  perplexing  world  from  its  blue  puppy  eyes,  laid 
ttenngs  of  overwhelming  and  undying  affection  at  every- 
ody  s  feet,  and  altogether  behaved  as  if  it  realised  its  import- 
nee  without  being  in  the  least  abashed  by  its  lack  of  size. 

Whil°  wo  were  engaged  in  this  scene  of  worship  the  door, 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— DK,  KM I.KU  3,  1913. 


'  WHEN ! ' 

MB.  REDMOND.  "DON'T    DBOWN    IT!"  MR.  ASQUITH.  "  VERY    GOOD,    SIR." 


DKCKMHKK  3,  1913. 1 


PUNCH,   OH  THE  LONDON^CJIAIUVAIIf. 


4<i  I 


, 


OUR    YOUNG    SCIENTISTS. 

•On!   DAD,  PLEASE  SPEAK  TO  BOUBY.    HE  WILL  PUT  HIS  FEET  MY  SIDE  OP  TIIK  BED,  AND  HIS  TOES  ARK  IU-.LOW  ZERO!  ' 


which  was  ajar_svas  slowly  and  solemnly  pushed  open,  and 
a  large  black  retriever  stalked  majestically  into  the  room. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  never  seen  him  before,  and  yet 
there  was  a  familiar  something  about  his  aspect.  He 
approached  Puk  and  sniffed  at  him  without  interest,  while 
the  small  dog,  turning  himself  into  a  temporary  fried 
whiting,  with  his  tail  in  his  mouth,  protested  his  harmless- 
ness  and  insignificance.  Then  the  giant,  having  finished 
his  inspection,  turned  away  and  took  no  further  notice. 

"  Who  's  this  ?  "  said  Helen. 

"  It 's No,  it  can't  he,"  said  Eosie. 

"  It  must  be— —    No,  it  isn't,"  said  Peggy. 

"  It 's  Soo-ti,"  said  John.     "  He  's  grosved  up." 

"It  is  Soo-ti,"  they  all  shouted  together.  "How  big 
he's  got!  " 


As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  Soo-ti,  but,  by  contrast  witli 
the  atom  to  which  we  had  been  devoting  ourselves,-  he  had 
grown  in  our  eyes  to  propgrtions  so  gigantic  that  for  a 
moment  we  had  seen  a  retriever  in  his  place.  And  even 
to-day  we  have  failed  to  reduce  him  to  his  normal  size. 
Something  we  .managed  to  effect  J>y  taking  him  for  a  walk 
with  the  Groat  Dane,  but  as  soon  as  ho  came  home  and 
found  himself  in  the 'same- room  with  Puk  he  began  again 
to  swell  visibly,  and  now  he.. is  once  more  a  big  dog.  The 
pretty  graces  that  belong  to  the  very  small  seem  through  the 
presence  of  his  son  to  have  dropped  from  him.  In  short, 
wo  have  lost  our  little  dog.  But  we  still  hope  that,  when 
Puk  himself  shall  have  grown  up,  our  old  original  Soo-ti  will 
be  restored  to  us  in  all  his  delightful  dwartishness.  K.  C.  L. 


THE  WINDOW-CLEANER 

UK  mounts  his  ladder  and  attacks  each  pano- 
As  though,  behind  it,  I  elude  his  vision ; 

If  I  were  robbed  before  his  eyes  or  slain, 

He  would  clean  on  with  unimpaired  precision  ; 

Inshcrt,  with  the  first  action  of  his  wrist, 

I  simply  cease  by  some  means  to  exist. 

It  stands  to  reason  that,  my  light  grown  dim, 
My  peace  destroyed,  my  business  dislocated, 

I  'in  fprced  to  take  an  interest  in  him 
(However  plainly  unreciprocated) ; 

I  've  thought  his  mien  a  studied  insult — yet 

At  other  times  I  've  hoped  it 's  etiquette. 

Of  course  I  don't  expect  him  to  converse 
Or  doff  the  pride  so  proper  to  his  station  ; 

I  merely  wish  that  he  would  let  me  nurse 
My  natural  self-respect  (in  moderation). 

I  f e  won't ;  and  it  is  very  hard  for  mo 

Thus  to  resign  my  dear  identity. 


Despair. 

"Hardingc  got- tho  ball,  but,  however,  made  a  terrible  attempt  at 
scoring,  putting  the  ball  high  over  the  bar.  Again  Rutherford  repeated 
his  performance, "and  after  his  centre  had  been  again  wasted  he  tried 
to  shoot  himself." — Evening  AVu-s. 

It  would  have  been  more  natural  (bflfr,  we  hasten  to  say, 
no  less  regrettable)  if  he  had  tried  to  shoot  HARDINGE. 


464 


PUNCH,   Oil   THE   LONDON   CIIAR1VAPJ. 


[DECEMBEU  3,  1913. 


~] 


And 
news 


"MR.    WU.' 

[A  thrilling  Chinese  Night's  Kntcrtainmcut 
at  tliu  Stran.l  Theatre.] 

ACT  I. — The  garden  of  Mr.  Wu's  house. 
Enter  a  good  deal  of  Local  Colour. 

Local  Colour.  Alloe-sauieo,  piecee- 
piecoo,  cliop-chop  (and  other  things 
which  Iciinnot  translate  for  yon  property 
until  I  have  unjuickcd  my  Chinese  dic- 
tionary). [Exit  Local  Colour. 

Enter  Basil  Gregory  and  Mr.  Wu's 
daughter,  Nang  Piug. 

Basil.  Darling,  what  a  heavenly 
fortnight  we  luiu>  had  together,  while 
your  lather  has  been  away. 

j\nii(j  ring.  Basil,  my  velly 
(They  embrace) 

Basil    (withdrawing    himself). 

now,  darling,  I  have  some  bad  

for  you.  I  am  going  back  to  England 
with  Mother.  So  this  is  good-bye  for 
a  year  ...  or  two  years  .  .  . 
or  three  years  .  .  .  or — well,  I 
mean  I  might  easily  turn  up 
again  some  time.  In  these  days 
of  rapid  locomotion 

Xany  Ping.  Basil !  You  havo 
bloken  my  heart. 

Basil.  Oh,  come.  You '11  marry 
some  nice  mandarin  and  be  quite 
all  right. 

Xang  Ping.  Never.  My  father 
will  kill  me  when  he  hears  what 
has  happened. 

Jlasil  (kindly).  Oh,  I  hope  you 
won't  let  him  do  that. 

Namj  Ping.  He  will  kill  you 
too. 

Basil  (seriously  alarmed).  In 
that  case,  Nang  Ping,  you  cer- 
tainly mustn't  tell  him. 


well.  I  "m  not  afraid  of  you.  I  'in  a 
plain,  blunt  Englishman,  and  I  'in  not 
to  be  bullied  by  all  the  spirits  of  all  the 
ancestors  of  all  the  mandarins  and 
tangerines  in  China.  Why  aro  you 
persecuting  mo  ? 

Mr.  Wu.  Please  explain. 

Mr.  Gregory.  Three  weeks  ago  my 
son  disappeared.  Now  I  don't  say 
Basil  is  a  nice  boy,  but  I  happen — er, 
his  mother  happens  to  be  rather  fond 
of  him.  We  miss  him — that  is  to  say, 
she  misses  him — well,  anyhow,  ho  is 
missed  ...  at  times.  But  that  is 
not  all.  Yesterday  one  of  my  ships 
went  down ;  to-day  my  coolies  have 
already  struck  three  times  in  five 
minutes — no,  you  needn't  look  at  that 
clock,  it  doesn't  go — havo  struck  three 
times  in  five  minutes  for  higher  pay. 
Worse  than  this,  my  manager,  who  is 


j      —       o  —  7 

opposed  to  do  a  good  deal  of  the  work 


QUIET  BUSINESS  CHAT 


^[|•.  Gregory 
Mr.  Wu     . . 


Nang  Ping.  But  if  he  has  found  out  5 
Basil.  How  could  he?    He's  miles 
away.     (Two  Chinese  men  spring  on 
him  from  behind.)  I  say,  shut  up  there ! 
Help !     Oh  lor',  here's  Mr.  Wu ! 
[Mr.  Wu  appears  suddenly  in  front 
of  the  lovers.    A  terrible  silence  en- 
sues— and,  as  far  as  the  First  Act 
went,  I  felt  that  you,  or  I  could  have 
played  Mr.  MATHESON  LANG'S  part 
quite  well  ourselves.    But  of  course 
there 's  more  in  it  later  on. 
Nang  Ping.   Father!     (She  throws 
herself  at  his  feet.) 
The  Audience  (excited).     Ah-h-h ! 
CURTAIN. 

ACT    II. — The  offices  of   the   Gregory 
Steamship  Company  at  Hong  Kong. 
Mr.   Gregory   (bluntly).    Now   then, 
Mr.  Wu,  I  'm  going  to  have  things  out 
with  you.     I  sent  for  you  here  to  ask 
you,  as  man  to  mandarin,  what  it  all 
means. 
Mr.   Wit  (blandly).   What  what  all 


!  means  ? 
Mr.   Gregory.  You 


know    perfectly 


IN   HONG  KONG. 
Mr.  LESLIE  CAETEB. 
Mr.  MATHESOX  LANO. 

house. 


of  this  office,  has  adopted  of  late  „ 
play  of  facial  expression  and  a  wealth 
of  gesture  which  reminds  one  of  the 
worst  excesses  of  the  transpontine 
stage.  He  can't  say  the  simplest  thing 
in  a  natural  way  nowadays.  I  feel 
convinced,  Mr.  Wu,  that  you  are  behind 
all  this.  It 's  annoying  enough  to  lose 
a  son,  but  to  lose  a  good  boat  and  a 
valuable  manager  as  well — it 's  simply 
unbearable. 

Mr.  Wu.  How  can  I  be  behind  all 
this,  Mr.  Gregory  ?  To  take  one  case, 
how  can  I  be  responsible  for  your 
manager's  extraordinary  behaviour  ? 

Mr.  Gregory  (reasonably).  Well,  after 
all,  you  're  producing  the  play,  MATHE- 
SON, old  man.  I  mean,  Mr.  Wu,  that 
I  'm  a  plain,  blunt  Englishman,  and  I 
can  see  that  you  've  got  your  knife  into 
me.  Well,  I  'm  not  going  to  stand  it. 

Mr.  Wu.  How  are  you  going  to  stop 

Mr.  Gregory.  Like  this.    (He produces 


a  moment?  (Mr.  Gregory  takes  out  the 
cartridges  and  hands  them  to  him.)  I 
was  wondering  if  you  used  the  old- 
fashioned  smokeless  Gregory  powder. 
(He  puts  the  cartridges  into  his  own 
empty  revolver,  which  he  takes  from  his 
pocket.)  Now  then,  Mr.  Gregory  !  (He 
presents  the  revolver  at  his  head.)  Kindly 
ring  the  bell  and  ask  your  wife  to  come 

Mr.  Gregory  (overwhelmed  by  this 
sudden  turn  of  fortune).  Confound  you! 
You  have  got  the  better  of  me  by  your 
devilish  Eastern  cunning,  but  you  can- 
not cow  my  English  spirit.  1  will  not 
ring  the  bell.  (Bingt  it.)  What  do 
you  want  my  wife  for  ?  (Enter  Murray.) 
Murray,  send  Mrs.  Gregory  in. 

[Mrs.  Gregory  comes  in,  and  Gregory 
goes  reluctantly   out,   leaving    his 
wife  alone  with  Mr.  Wu. 
Mr.   Wu.  Mrs.  Gregory,  I  can  help 
you     to    find    your     son.      Mr. 
Gregory   doesn't    know   how   to 
talk  to  a  gentleman,  so   I  have 
sent  for  you  instead.     If  you  will 
come  to  my  house  this   evening 
at  six  I  will  tell  you  my  plans. 
No,   you  needn't    look    at    that 
clock,  it  doesn't  go. 

Mrs.  Gregory.  Oh,  Mr.  Wu,  if 
you  could  find  my  son  for  me,  I 
should  be  so  grateful.  But  I 
oughtn't  to  come  to  your  house 
alone.  Might  I  bring  my  Chinese 
maid,  Ah  Wong,  with  me  ? 

Mr.  Wu.  Certainly.  Till  six 
then.  [Exit. 

The  Audience  (excited).  Ah-h-h ! 

CURTAIN. 
Act  III. — Boom  in   Mr.   Wu's 


it? 


a  revolver.) 
Mr.    Wu 


Now  then 
(craftily). 


Dear    me,     a 


revolver.     May  I  look  at  the  cartridges 


Mr.  Wu  (genially).  Ah,  Mrs.  Gregory, 
you  have  come.  Will  you  please  send 
your  servant  away  ? 

Mrs.  Gregory.  Oh,  Mr.  Wu,  I  don't 
think  I  ought  to. 

Mr.  Wu  (gravely).  Mrs.  Gregory,  I 
cannot  sit  down 

Mrs.  Gregory  (sympathetically).  Eheu- 
matism  ?  Oh,  I  am  sorry. 

Mr.  Wu.  I  cannot  sit  down  in  the 
presence  of  a  servant.  The  spirit  of 
my  ancestors  will  not  let  me. 

Mrs.  Gregory.  Oh,  bother  your  old 
ancestors. 

Mr.  Wu  (annoyed).  Mrs.  Gregory,  this 
is  the  second  time  n,y  ancestors  have 
been  insulted  to-day.  If  it  occurs  again 
I  shall  have  to  call  upon  them  to  do 
something  about  it 

Mrs.  Gregory.  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry.  I 
didn't  mean  to.  Ah  Wong,  please  go 
away.  Now,  Mr.  Wu,  whero  is  my 
son? 

Mr.  Wu.  He  is  here. 

Mrs.  Gregory  (surprised}.  Here  ? 

Mr.  Wu.  Yes,  he  is  my  prisoner.    I 


DECEMBER  3,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   CHAIMVAKI. 


405 


bund  him  making  lovo  to  my  daughter. 
Ela  will  probably  die.    (Coming  closer 

'o  her)  Unless Mrs.  Gregory,  you 

lavo  only  one  way  of  saving  him. 
Mrs.  Gregory.  What  is  it? 
Mr.    Wu    (plaintively).    Can't    you 
guess?    I   don't  want  to  put   it   too 
rudely,    because    of    tho    Bishop    of 
KENSINGTON. 

Mrs.  Gregory  (guessing}.  Never  ! 
Mr.  Wu.  I  will  leave  you  to  think  it 
over.  If  you  decide  to  sacrifice  your- 
self for  your  son,  I  shall  strike  this  gong 
— a  remarkable  specimen  of  early  thir- 
teenth-century work,  supposed  to  be  a 
genuine  Heo  Chee  ]£oo— -and  that  will 
bo  the  signal  for  his  release.  Tho  doors 
are  locked  and  the  only  window — allow 
me  to  call  the  audience's  attention  to  it 
— is  much  too  small  and  much  too  higli 
up  to  escape  through.  You  will  find 
some  tea  on  tho  table  if  you  are  at  all 
parched.  I  think  that  is  all.  I  shall 
he  hack  in  five  minutes.  (Aside  to  the 
audience')  .lust  keep  your  eye  on  the 
window,  and  don't  forget  what  I  said 
about  striking  the  gong.  [Exit. 

Mrs.  Gregory  (faintly).  What-shall-I- 
do-\vhat-shall-I-do-help-help.  (Gazing 
up  at  the  window)  Ah,  Wong — I  mean 
ali,  Ah  Wong — if  you  could  only  come 
to  my  aid!  (She  does.  At  this  very 
moment  something  is  thrown  through  the 
window  from  outside — to  the  extreme 
gratification  of  those  of  us  who  were 
'keeping  our  eyes  on  it.  Mrs.  Gregory 
picks  it  up.)  How  wonderfully  these 
Chinese  women  throw !  What  is  this  ? 
Why,  it  is  a  phial  of  poison.  What  shall 
I  do  with  it  ?  Why,  drink  it  and  save 
myself  from  dishonour.  The  simplest 
thing  would  bo  to  drink  it  now,  but  that 
would  spoil  the  play.  Of  course  I 
might  keep  it  in  my  hand  and  drink 
it  at  the  last  moment,  but  that  woulc 
spoil  it  too.  I  know — I  '11  put  it  in  mj 
cup  of  tea.  (Docs  so.)  There !  Now 
he  won't  know  L'm  killing  myself 
(Hriijhtly  to  Mr.  Wu  outside)  Read — y 

-  Enter  Mr.  Wu. 

Mr.  Wit.  Well?  ...  Ah!  (IL 
takes  her  in  his  arms.) 

Mrs.  Gregory.  .Wait  a  moment.  (Site 
picks  up  the  cup  of  tea  and  prepares  to 
tlrink.) 

Mr.  Wu  (lovingly).  Let  Wu-wu  drink 
too !  (He  stops  for  a  moment  with  the 
cup  at  his  lips.)  It  smells  like  poison, 
but  it  may  be  only  the  milk  and  sugar 
that  you  Europeans  spoil  your  tea  with. 
(Ha  'drinks.)  I  say,  though,  it  was 
poison!  Wiiugh-waugh,  tchah,  pshaw, 
watigh-waugh.  (He  chokes,  falls  over 
the  table  and  recovers  himself  with  an 
effort.)  At  any  rate,  woman,  you  shall 
die  too.  (He  seizes  an  old  Chinese 
sword,  a  remarkable  piece  of  work  dating 
from  the  Kah  Sun  di/nasl//,  and  lurches 
nfti-r  her.  She  dodges  behind  the  gong, 


•i«t« 

Hiding  Master.  "Wirr  DIDX'T  TOO  DIO  Torn  KKEES  ISTO  '«?" 

Victim.    "I— I  WASN'T  THEJIE   LOSO  ENOUGH  1  " 


and  he  strikes  at  her.)  Take  that— and 
that — and  that ! 

Mrs.   Gregory.   Never  touched   me! 
(He  strikes  and  she  dodges  again.)  Only 
hit  the  gong,  silly  1 
He  makes  another  effort   and  then 
falls  down  dead.     The  doors  open 
at  the  sound  of  the  gong   (I  hope 
you  hadn't  forgotten  about   that) 
and  Basil  comes  in  to  his  mother. 
The  Audience  (relieved).  Ah-h-hl 

CURTAIN.          A.  A.  M. 

"  Jericho  was  a  very  important  city,  situated 
on  a  caravan  road,  which  led,  probably,  due 
north  and  south,  or,  perhaps,  cast  to  west." 
Daily  Express. 

Until  this  is  cleared  up  we  shall 
I  continue  to  refuse  our  many  invitations 
I  to  go  to  Jericho. 


A   Treasure-hunt. 

"The  Archdeacon  of  Buckingham  wa»  the 
preacher  at  St.  Mary's,  Aylesbury,  on  Sunday 
morning. 

The  subject  of  his  sermon  was  tho  Bishop 
of  Oxford's  Fund. 

Lord  Dalmeny  was  in  command,  tho  meet 
being  at  Mcntmoro  cross  roads. 

A  high  wind  militated  against  successful 
hunting. 

A  generous  response  was  made  to  his  appeal 
for  support  to  the  fund." 

Uuclx  Advertiser  and  Ayleibury  Newt. 


"  TORQUAY  ECHOES. 
TTe.ivv  rain  fell  in  Torquay  yesterday. 
Over  "half-an-inch  of  rain  fell  in  Torquay 
yesterday." — Exeter  Erprest. 

However,  visitors  who  go  to  Torquay 
for  the  echo  must  not  expect  always  to 
be  so  well  served. 


466 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  3,  1913. 


I 


WELL    DONE! 

After  the  enormous  success  of  his  de- 
Fcription  of  a  football  match  for  "The 
.Daily  Mail,"  the  Dean  of  Manchester, 
the  Bight  Bsv.  Bishop  Welldon,  is,  we 
understand,  so  enamoured  of  sporting 
journalism  that  there  is  no  holding 
him.  Hence  the  following  article  on  a 
billiard  match  which  "Mr.  Punch"  is 
privileged  to  print  :— 

As  I  crossed  Leicester  Square  I  ob- 
served that  not  a  few  persons,  equally 
interested  with  mo  in  the  delicate  mani- 
pulation of  ivory  balls  over  a  verdant 
doth,  were  making  their  way  towards 
tin;  Grand  Hall,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  such  a  crowd,  all  sober  (at  any 
rate,  to  the  decanal  eye),  all  well 
dressed  and  well  behaved,  all  honestly 
interested  in  a  competition  of  skill,  were 
creditable  representatives  of  English 
manhood. 

The  match,  I  may  say  at  once,  was 
admirably  contested.  The  play  was 
fust  and  even  throughout.  There  was 
not  a  dull  moment,  and  now  by  one 
player  and  now  by  the  other  the  marker 
was  kept  busy. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  readers  who 
have  never  seen  this  fascinating  game 
I  should  explain  that  it  is  played  on  a 
large  green  table  by  two  players,  each 
armed  with  a  long  stick  called,  if  I 
may  venture  to  say  so,  a  cue.  The 
balls  are  three  in  number,  two  the 
colour  of  lawn  sleeves,  and  one,  I  regret 
to  say,  recalling  the  hue  of  a  Cardinal's 
hat.  One  of  the  balls  is  a  pure  white, 
the  other,  alas !  my  brethren,  is  spotted. 

Ah,  if  only  we [Kindly  keep  to 

the  game,  dear  and  right  reverend  Sir. 
— ED.  PUNCH.]  The  object  of  each 
player,  if  I  may  put  it  thus  crudely,  is 
to  gei  the  better  of  the  other. 

It  was- borne  in  upon  me  that  bil- 
liards, although  I  do  not,  I  think, 
recommend  it  as  a  pastime  for  school- 
boys, would  seem  to  be  rising  as  cricket 
is  in  danger  of  falling  in  popularity. 
It  must,  I  fear,  be  acknowledged  that 
cricket  as  it  is  now  played  is  a  less 
attractive  game  than  it  used  to  be.  The 
faultless  excellence  of  the  pitches,  the 
accuracy  of  the  bowling,  and  the  prac- 
tice of  aiming  at  making  a  century  by 
any  means,  however  tedious,  render 
cricket  over  after  over  an  exceedingly 
dull  game  to  watch.  None  the  less  the 
two  games  are  strangely  alike.  Both 
require,  if  I  may  say  so,  a  green  ground. 
The  ball  at  cricket  is  red.  Now  that 
I  come  to  think  of  it,  the  similarity 
here  seems  to  cease. 

One  word  as  to  the  spectators.  The 
crowd  at  Saturday's  match  showed,  I 
think,  the  true  sporting  spirit.  They 
applauded  good  play  with  almost  equal 
impartiality,  whether  it  was  the  play 
of  their  own  favourite  or  that  of 


his  rival.  There  was  no  unseemly 
wrangling,  no  jumping  on  the  table,  or 
stealing  tho  chalk,  or  breaking  the  cues, 
or  displacing  the  balls,  such  as  might 
have  occurred  if  —  well,  if  manners 
were  less  under  control.  Watching 
them  I  was  proud  to  be  an  English 
amateur  journalist. 

As  1  surveyed  the  game  I  could  not 
help  remembering  similar  contests  in 
which  I  )ia:l  taken  part  myself  in  the 
old  days,  when  the  Headmasters  of  the 
great  public  schools  had  an  annual 
billiard  tournament.  I  remember,  as 
though  it  were  yesterday,  a  break  of 
5  (3  off  the  red  and  2  by  a  superb 
white  winner)  which  I  compiled  in  my 
heat  with  the  Headmaster  of  Eton, 
and  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  it 
is  a  pity  that  the  particular  stroke  by 
which  I  used  to  effect  most  of  my 
scoring  plays  so  small  a  part  in  the 
first-class  game.  It  is  not  easy  to 
describe  it  in  print,  but  I  may  call  it,  if 
a  metaphor  from  another  but  less  laud- 
able English  sport — that  of  racing — may 
be  permitted  one,  a  stroke  by  Wrong 
Policy  out  of  Fortunate  Chance.  I  re- 
member during  one  of  these  matches, 
when  my  favourite  stroke  was  more  in 
evidence  than  usual,  the  Headmaster 
of  Winchester,  an  inveterate  wag,  said 
that  one  of  my  cannons  was  too  good 
for  such  a  commonplace  name.  "  It 
is  a  major  cannon,"  ho  said,  "  and 
ought  to  be  called  a  dean.'' 

And  so,  the  necessary  points  having 
been  reached  or  some  other  cause 
bringing  the  game  to  a  close,  I  came 
away  breathing  a  silent  prayer  that  all 
English  games  might  be  equally  well- 
managed,  and  somewhat  regretting  that 
I  had  not  ascertained  what  players  the 
match  was  between  or  for  how  many 
points.  [That  doesn't  matter,  my  lord; 
we  have  an  ordinary  common  fellow  to 
do  that.  The  scores  were,  INMAN  14063, 
NEWMAN  (in  play)  16521.— ED.] 


BLANCHE'S    LETTERS. 

SOUL-PANGS  AND  OTHER  DIVERSIONS. 

Park  Lane. 

DEAREST  DAPHNE, — The  new  thing 
to  suffer  from  is  soul -pangs.  Quite 
almost  everyone  is  having  it.  It 's  not 
illness — and  it 's  not  nerves — it 's  just 
soul-pangs.  You  begin  by  wondering 
about  things ;  then  you  go  on  wondering 
about  things;  then  you  get  disgusted 
with  people;  and  after  that  you  get 
disgusted  with  yourself;  until  at  last, 
in  very  bad  cases,  you  get  to  asking 
questions  of  yourself,  and  even  of  the 
furniture  in  the  room  when  you  're 
alone — such  questions  as  "Why  ?"  and 
"  What?"  and  "How?"  and  "Is  every- 
thing nothing?"  and  "Is  nothing  every- 


thing? "  and  then,  dearest,  you  're  in  for 
it  and  must  have  a  soul-doctor. 

Soul-doctors  aren't  always,  or  even 
often,  real  doctors — they're  generally 
people.  For  instance,  Lord  Exshire  and 
Sir  Gervase  Oldacres  have  each  made 
quite  a  little  reputation  as  soul-doctors. 
When  you  consult  one  of  them  you 
tell  him  that  you've  unusual  feelings, 
and  he  tells  you  you  haven't.  You 
say,  "  I  'm  positively  martyred  by  soul- 
pangs  !  I  'm  wondering  about  things — 
and  I  'm  questioning  myself — and  I  'm 
absolutely  thinking — I  'm  in  an  im- 
mensely fearful  state !  "  and  the  soul- 
doctor  looks  into  your  eyes  and  holds 
your  hands  firmly  and  says,  "  No 
you're  not;  "  and  presently,  my  dear, 
you  're  not !  Isn't  it  simply  marvellous  ? 

Sir  Gervase  Oldacres  has  been  even 
more  successful  than  Lord  Exshire  with 
his  cases.  I  don't  know  that  he  'd 
actually  a  greater  gift,  but  Exshire  has 
been  hampered  in  his  cures  by  his  wife. 
Anne  Exshire  will  go  with  him  to  his 
cases,  and  when  he  looks  into  the  eyes 
of  the  case  and  holds  her  hands  Anne 
pushes  in  and  says,  "  Can't  /  do  that?  " 
There  is  a  story  that  just  as  Exshire 
was  willing  away,  with  his  eyes  and 
hands,  the  soul-pangs  of  a  particularly 
obstinate  case  Anne  burst  into  the 
room  and  slapped  her ! — and  the  soul- 
pangs  came  back  worse  than  ever. 

Sir  Gervase  Oldacres  had  no  wife  to 
interfere  with  his  use  of  his  gift,  and 
he 's  done  wonders.  You  notice,  I  said 
he  had  no  wife — but  wait!  He  was 
particularly  concerned  about  one  of  his 
patients,  Mrs.  Meekly,  a  cousin  of  the 
Flummerys,  the  quietest,  most  mouse- 
like little  nonentity  of  a  widow.  Hers 
was  a  really  terrible  case.  Not  only 
had  she  all  the  usual  soul-pangs,  but 
she  was  thinking  quite  a  quantity  about 
her  husband  who  died  a  whole  year 
ago,  and  sometimes  even  remembered 
quite  vividly  what  he  was  like!  We 
persuaded  her  to  consult  Sir  Gervase  as 
a  soul-doctor,  and  he  said  it  was  the 
most  difficult  and  obstinate  case  he  had 
yet  tried  his  will  upon.  When  he  was 
holding  her  hands  and  willing  with  all 
the  power  of  his  eyes  (the  traditional 
Oldacres'  eyes,  large  and  grey  with 
black  eyebrows),  she  still  kept  on  saying 
she  could  see  her  dear  husband  and 
hear  his  voice,  in  spite  of  the  soul- 
doctor's  reiterated  "  No,  you  can't." 
But  it  has  turned  out,  my  dear,  that 
she  was  right  after  all,  for  by-and-by 
their  engagement  was  announced,  and 
now  they  're  married !  The  new  Lady 
Oldacres  is  a  quite  quite  different  person 
from  little  Mrs.  Meekly ;  she  never 
seems  even  to  have  heard  of  soul-pangs, 
wears  dreams  of  frocks,  talks  incessantly, 
and  always  has  Oldacres  Towers  full  of 
people  to  the  very  brim !  But  isn't  it  a 


DECEMBER  3,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHAIM  VAIM. 


467 


RECENT   SCENE  IN  A  PUBLIC   LIBRARY  NOT  A  THOUSAND  1IILES  FROM  THE  STRAND. 

"MY  MOST  EXCITING  ADVENTURE," 

TOLD  BY  POPULAR  MUEIC-BALL  ABTISTES, 

WILL  APPEAR  m  THE  CHRISTMAS  NUMBER  OP  THE . 


tragic  thing — Sir  Gcrvasc  himself  has 
soul-pamjs  now  !  And,  as  no  soul-doctor 
can  do  anything  in  his  own  case,  and, 
of  course,  wouldn't  ask  help  from  a 
rival,  I  suppose  there 's  no  hope  for  the 
poor  dear  man. 

I  gave  a  dear  little  lunch  party  for 
Mr.  Tim  Flanagan  when  he  was  in 
London.  Everyone  was  charmed  with 
him.  He  looked  so  really  chic  among 
all  the  monotonous  well-groomed  people 
ai-ound  him.  After  lunch  he  went  out 
on  the  balcony  and  began  to  address 
the  passers-by,  and  soon  there  was  an 
immense  mob  outside.  We  all  crowded 
up  to  the  windows  to  hear  him,  and  he 
was  simply  enormously  amusing !  He 
told  the  crowd  what  he  'd  had  for  lunch, 
and  he  asked  how  darci  we  live  in  such 
luxury ;  and  he  somethinged  the  lunch 
and  the  wine;  and  he  said  we  didn't 
heed  the  writing  on  the  wall,  and  was 
a  great  mansion  like  the  one  he  was 
speaking  from  to  be  left  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  man  and  a  woman  and  some 
flunkeys  ?  No,  it  wasn't !  And  he 
invited  any  of  the  crowd  who  felt  like 
it  to  come  right  in  and  live  in  our 
house  and  take  whatever  they  wanted. 
And  the  crowd  laughed  and  cheered 
again,  and  then  the  police  dispersed 
them,  and  I  persuaded  Mr.  Tim  Flanagan 


to  come  in  and  have  tea,  as  his  clever 
speech  must  have  made  him  very 
thirsty.  And  all  the  lunch  people 
stayed  to  tea  too,  and  before  going 
away  they  perfectly  overwhelmed  me 
with  Congrats  on  having  given  such  a 
charming  afternoon. 

There 's  another  burst-up  at  the 
Thistledowns'.  We  're  all  quite  a  little 
sorry  about  it.  Fluffy,  poor  dear  thing, 
is  a  very  much  misunderstood  little 
woman.  Only  a  short  time  ago,  you 
know,  things  were  patched  up  there, 
and  there  was  a  reconciliation,  and 
they  arranged  to  live  happy  ever  after. 
They  gave  a  very  cheery  reconcitty 
dinner-dance,  and  we  all  gave  them 
presents,  and  altogether  it  was  quite  a 
happy  little  second  wedding.  Their 
gifts  to  each  other  were  too  sweet  for 
words.  He  gave  her  a  complete  set  of 
baby-tiger — coat,  cap  and  muff.  (Baby- 
tiger  is  the  last  syllable  of  the  last 
word !  To  get  even  one  baby-tiger  costs, 
I  hear,  several  natives'  lives,  and  such 
a  set  as  Fluffy 's  must  account  [or  dozens 
of  the  little  stripers.  Of  course,  one 's 
sorry  for  the  poor  natives,  but  it  gives 
baby-tiger  a  cachet  above  all  other 
peltry.)  Really  and  truly,  my  own 
Daphne,  I  don't  think  1  ever  envied 
anyone  in  my  life  till  I  saw  Fluffy 


Thistledown  at  the  Newmarket  Hough- 
ton  in  her  new  sot  of  baby-tiger.     Her 
cap  had  the  baby-paws  in  front  and  the 
tail  sticking  straight  up  at  the  back, 
and  the  effect  of  eyes  was  got  by  two 
immense  topaz  hat-pins.  Her  reconcilly 
gift  to  him  was  a  gold  match-box  with 
her  smile  on  the  lid,  surrounded  with 
j  brilliants.     So  everything  seemed  quite 
I  comfy  and   charming   at   the  Thistle- 
downs', till  one  week-end  Lord  T.  was 
running  over  to  Paris  tout  sail.     Jack 
j  Hurlingham,   Doody   St.   Adrian,  and 
j  some  other  men  that  he  knew  got  into 
j  the  boat-train  with  him,  and  presently 
[Thistledown,  preparatory   to    lighting 
j  up,  took  out  his  new  match-box,  looking 
complacently,   no    doubt,   at    Fluffy's 
smile  on  the  lid.    The  box  proved  to  be 
empty,   however ;    there   was   nothing 
behind  the  smile — (some  people  have 
said  the  same  of  Fluffy  herself).     Jack 
and  Doody  and  the  others,  seeing  T.'s 
matchless     condition,     simultaneously 
took  out  their  own  match-boxes,  prof- 
fered them,  then  suddenly  recollected 
themselves  and  pocketed  them   again 
in  a  hurry — but  not  before  Thistledown 
had  seen  them.     My  dear,  every  one  of 
those  boxes   was   gold,   with    Fluffy's 
smile    surrounded   with    brilliants   on 
the  lid!         Ever  thine,       BLANCHE. 


4G8 


PUNCH,  on 


THE  LONDON   CHART  YAH  L 


[DECEMBER  3,  1913. 


"KOT  60  MUCH  SL-XSHISE,   PLEASE,   OR  TOU  'LL  FOG  THE  PLATE." 


DOOMSDAY. 

[Linn  written  on  receipt  of  fa  information  that  the  hazards  of  my  favourite  golf  course  arc  to  le  made  even  more 

difficult  than  before.) 


EHE  yet  with  arrogance  grown  drunker 
Ye  build  to  flout  the  stars, 
Stern  members  of  the  Green  Committee, 
On  me,  the  gentle  fool,  have  pity, 
Not  all  because  with  face  so  gritty 
I  needs  must  dare  the  embattled  bunker 
And  hurst  its  beetling  bars. 

What  though  I  may  not  leap  the  ramparts, 
As  others  may,  in  one? 

If  that  were  all  'twere  no  great  matter ; 
What  though  the  bootless  mounds  I  batter 
And  club  by  club  impetuous  shatter, 
And  bid  the  caddy  take  the  dam  parts 
And  burn  them  and  be  done  ? 

Ah  no !  hut  on  the  People  ponder, 
The  People  and  their  right ; 
How  age  by  age  with  grip  tenacious 
Lhe  aukes  annexed  the  soil,  till  (gracious!) 
Our  England  which  was  onco  so  spacious 
All  greenwood  glades  where  men  might  wande- 
Contracted  and  grew  tight. 

1  shall  the  mob's  increasing  dudgeon, 
When  serfdom  breaks  its  thrall, 
Strike  only  at  the  red-deer  forest, 
That  thou,  O  GEORGE,  so  much  abhorrest, 


And  spare  the  links  where  once  they  morriced, 
But  now,  with  overweening  bludgeon, 
The  golfer  belts  his  ball  ? 

[Thus,  long  ago,  the  lawless  barons 
Upreared  from  Thames  to  Tyne 
Their  castles  to  the  outraged  heavens 
(Only  last  week  I  said  to  Evans 
One  's  lucky  to  get  round  in  sevens), 
In  days  when  WARWICK  ruled  and  CLARENCE 
Was  soused  in  Malmsey  wine.] 

And  now,  I  ween,  no  grouse  nor  harriers, 
Nor  marshlands  of  the  snipe, 

No,  nor  the  mangold-munching  pheasant, 
Shall  so  enrage  the  risen  peasant, 
Until  lie  makes  himself  unpleasant, 
As  these,  these  crenelated  barriers 
That  curb  my  well-meant  wipe. 

And  when  at  last  the  score  is  reckoned 
(a  has  Ics  clceks  !   the  cry), 
I  fear  me  much  lest,  late  and  laggard, 
When  all  the  rest  to  lunch  have  staggered. 
I  may  bo  hauled,  a  victim  haggard, 
From  that  vast  peel-tower  at  the  second, 
Niblick  in  hand,  to  die. 

ETOB. 


PUNCH,  OH  THE  LONDON  CHART VARI.— DKOIMIH-K  :i,   l!)i:t. 


A  NATION   OF  FIRE-EATERS. 

PEACEFUL  TEUTON.  "HIMMEL!    THEY    HAVE    ALL   THOSE    AKMIESl      AND    THE    FATHER- 
LAND   HAS    ONLY    ONE1" 


DECEMBER  3,  1913.] 


PUNCH,    OH   TIIW   LONDON   CIIAIMVAI'J. 


471 


INTELLECTUAL    LIFE    AT    THE    UNIVERSITY. 

SCENE — College  room. 

First  Undergraduate.  "CoaiiMG  TO  BnEKKEn  TO-MORBOW?"  Second  Undergraduate.  "No,  YOU'D  BETTEB  COMB  TO  ME." 

First  Undergraduate.  "WHY  ON  EARTH  SHOULD  I?"  S:cond  Undergraduate.  "ALL  EIGHT,  THEN,  DON'T!" 

First  Undergraduate.  "  THEN  I  SHALL!" 


SMOKE  ABATEMENT  AT 
HARROW. 

THE  Headmastsr  of  Harrow  has 
issued  orders  to  the  effect  that  boys 
"  must  not  allow  Old  Harrovians  or 
other  visitors  to  the  school  to  smoke  in 
their  rooms  at  the  various  houses." 
The  boys  are  also  "  requested  not  to  go 
about  the  High  Street  or  puhlic  roads 
adjoining  the  school  with  people  who 
are  smoking." 

Unfortunately  several  painful  inci- 
dents arising  out  of  the  new  regulations 
have  to  bo  recorded.  Tho  Hon.  W.  D. 
H.  O.  Birdseye  was  getting  on  very 
nicely  with  his  grandfather,  the  Duke 
of  Cherrywood,  who  was  paying  a  visit 
to  the  boy's  study,  until  his  Grace 
took  out  a  cigar  and  lit  it.  Finding 
remonstrance  was  met  only  with  in- 
dignation, the  Hon.  W.  D.  H.  O. 
reluctantly  proceeded  to  the  perform- 
ance of  his  duty.  When  duty  has  to 
be  faced,  it  matters  nctlrng  to  an 


'  Harrovian  that   he   stands  to   lose   a 

|  fiver    a    term    by    his    loyalty.      On 

I  inquiry  at  a  late  hour  last  evening  we 

were  informed  by  the  Duke's  doctor  that 

i  his  Grace  was  progressing  as  favourably 

j  as    could    be    expected.     His   Grace's 

:  chaplain,  however,  takes  a  very  grave 

view  of  the  condition  of   the  veteran 

I  nobleman. 

The  budding  diplomatists  of  the 
school  are  contriving  to  carry  out  the 
Headmaster's  rules  less  forcibly  than  the 
above  youth.  One  of  them  keeps  a  tin  of 
almond  rock  on  bis  mantelpiece,  and  on 
the  first  fretful  sign  made  by  a  visitor 
who  is  dying  to  smoke  he  generously 
supplies  this  soothing  sweetmeat. 

A  distressing  scene  was  witnessed 
in  the  High  Street  on  Monday.  A 
bronzad  man,  after  an  absence  of  six 
months  in  the  Sahara,  ran  down  to 
Harrow  to  pay  a  surprise  visit  to  his 
son.  Smoking  a  cigar,  he  walked 
along  full  of  the  happy  anticipation  of 
seeing  his  curly-headed  boy  again. 


Suddenly,  in  the  High  Street,  he  came 
face  to  face  with  the  little  chap.  With 
outstretched  arms  and  shining  eyes  the 
father  advanced  to  enfold  his  child  to 
his  bosom ;  but  the  boy,  with  a 
horrified  look  at  the  cigar,  pulled  him- 
self together  and  marched  by  with 
averted  nose. 


"  Of  the  sugar  contained  in  the  cane  not  less 
than   150  per  cent,  is  lost,  since  from  cane 
containing  15  per  cent,   cf  sugar  it  is  not 
I  possible  to  get  G  per  cent.,  if  that." 

"  Times"  South  American  Supplement. 

We  cannot  cope  with  this  at  present. 
WTe  propose  to  read  one  or  two  of  our 
contemporary's  Educational  Supple- 
ments, and  then  to  try  again. 


"When  the  little  dark  man  gct-s  up  at  a 
meeting,  his  square,  bony  jaw  seemingly 
obscured  by  the  spectacles  ha  wear.:,  the  Bosrs 
stir  restlessly  in  their  seats." — Daily  Mail. 

Our  only  suggestion  (not  a  good  one)  is 
that  he  wears  his  spectacles  on  his  eye- 
teeth. 


47-2 


ITNC'ir,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DF.CEAIBER  3,  1913. 


THE    BIG    DAY. 

T>r.\n  Mr.  1'rNcir,— At  our  principal 


the  guns  in  at  these  two  points  to  begin 
with,  the  general  object  being  to  collect 
all  the  birds  forward  and  finally  to  get 


shoot,  to  take  place  shortly,  wo  ask  the  j  them  together  at  the  Eastern  extremity. 


onour  of  your  own  presence  and  assist-  (If  one  or  two  escape  over  into  Botiverie 
..nee.  We"  do  so  because,  in  the  first  Street,  no  doubt  your  Young  Men  will 
place,  wo  shall  have  need  of  a  trusty  bo  keeping  a  look  out  from  your  upstairs 
a:ul  discriminating  gun  ;  in  the  second,  j  windows  and  will  enjoy  accounting  for 
\(iu  )i:i]>|K>n  to  live  near  the  scene  of  j  these.  Which  reminds  me  :  we  mustn't 
action  (The  Temple)  and  your  know-  forget  to  square  tho  Police  with  a 


go  of  local  conditions  and  the  habits  I  promise  of  a  share  in  the  booty,  must 
of  the  game  (pigeons)  will  bo  of  great  we?)  It  will  take  us  all  the  morning 
lu-lp  to  us  in  devising  our  strategic  and  the  first  part  of  the  afternoon  to 


schemes. 

Wo  shall  be  about  a 
.in/  n  guns  in  all  at  the 
start,  including  one  or  t\vo 
of  tho  more  sporting  but 
less  preoccupied  K.C.s,  a 
retired  Master  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  (not  to  bo 
trusted  too  far),  and  a 
section  of  the  Junior  Bar; 
we  may,  when  it  is  known 
what  is  afoot,  be  joined 
by  others  to  the  extent  of 
not  more  than  a  few  hun- 
dreds, and  the  weapon  shop 
in  the  Strand  should  do 
good  business  in  bailments 
that  morning.  We  hope 
to  begin  about  eleven ;  if 
this  soems  to  you  to  be 
late  in  the  day,  it  has  been 
deemed  better  to  wait  till 
the  Courts  are  sitting.  We 
cannot  expect  to  avoid 
some  regrettable  casual- 
ties ;  clerks  don't  matter, 
being  cheap  and  excessive; 
half-a-dozen  or  so  of  soli- 
citors might  not  in  the 
worst  event  be  missed,  and 
even  a  barrister  or  two 
could  be  spared.  But 
Common  Law  Judges,  the 
sort  to  be  met  sometimes 
in  the  Temple  out  of 
working  hours,  are  very 
scarce  nowadays,  practi- 
cally numbered,  and  if  one 
of  them  was  mislaid  there ; 
might  be  a  fuss.  So  we  do  not  intend 


f- 

Viceroy  of  India  (to  General  Botlta)    "I'M  SURE  YOU  ONLY  MEANT  TO 

HAVE  A  LITTLE    HARMLESS   FUN  WITH    HIS  TAIL,    BUT   WHAT  's    FUN   TO   YOU 
MAY  BE  VERY  ANNOYING  TO  THE  REST  OF  THE  TIGER." 


walk  up  New,   Garden,   Essex,  Hare, 


y  .  ,__  J.  *         ^^  MIH-*\_.I.J  ,        J-liJiJVj  A,       JL.iail.Cj 

they  are  on  their  benches  j  Pump,   and  Fig  Tree  Courts,  Temple 
and  out  of  harm's  way.     After  all,  the  Gardens,  Harcourt  Buildings  and  the 


I  ,  i  J  Li"O  "•     **WMW«       »  T  nukj      vv  Ulvll 

be  welcome,  both  as  rounding  up  the  should  by  then  be  teeming  with  -mine 
;  nicely  and  also  with  the  view  of       If  it  turns  out  that  we  are  still  only  a 


keeping  down  a  species  which  threatens !  reasonable  nuinberof  g'unTby  thisTime* 
these  days  to  become  a  bit  too  thick  we  may  shoot  over  cats  •  we  have  of 
on  the  ground  Mitre  Court  way. 

mi  •  . .    J _ 


course,  some  of  these  famous  and  self- 


MM  i 

1  here  is,  as  you  know,  a  little  discreet  trained  pointers,    artful    as    they   are 

ite  by  the  Middle  Temple  Library,   made,  on  the  spot.    The  superiority  of 

leading  out  to  the  Underground,   and  j  cats  to  dogs  in  this  connection  is  obvious- 

another,  also  on  the  Western  boundary  j  if  they  exceed  their  jurisdiction  and  get 

the  estate,   leading  into  Dovereux  j  out  of  hand,  they  themselves  become 

is  the  idea  at  present  to  put !  (as  they  well  know)  fair  game,  and  the 


majority  of  their  acquaintances  would, 
perhaps,  prefer  it  so.  The  objection  is, 
however,  the  number  of  guns,  and  I 
think  myself  it  will  probably  be  driven 
birds,  driven,  that  is,  from  South  to 
North  ;  with  a  gun  in  every  window  in 
King's  Bench  Walk,  a  gang  of  them  on 
tho  lawn,  behind  and  at  the  side,  our 
best  shots  up  Mitre  Court  to  pull  down 
tho  pigeons  as  they  soar  away  over  to- 
wards tho  Strand,  and  all  our  spare 
fellows  on  tho  Library  roof,  up  the  Clock 
Tower  if  they  like,  to  snap  what  is 
missed  from  below. 

It  would  ho  a  pity,  too, 
not  to  have  this  drive, 
seeing  that  all  the  "Boys" 
in  Chambers  who  are  to 
act  as  beaters  have  been 
looking  forward  to  it  for 
weeks,  and  have  been  col- 
lecting old  (and  possibly 
some  new)  electric  light 
bulbs,  which  they  will 
drop  to  the  ground  at  a 
given  signal,  a  process 
which  has  never  yet  failed 
to  stimulate  these  birds  to 
flight. 

And  kt  me,  lastly,  anti- 
cipate any  possible  objec- 
I  tion  on  tho  grounds  of 
inhumanity.  Let  me  point 
out  that  this  proposed 
;  expsdition  is  wholly  right- 
eous, and,  so  far  from 
having  any  connection 
with  the  scandals  in  rural 
life  which  have  evoked  the 
Georgia  ire,  is  itself  a  fur- 
therance of  DAVID'S  own 
reformative  schemes.  The 
Temple,  Sir,  is  overrun  by 
these  fat  and  voracious 
beas'.s,  and,  if  they  con- 
tinue to  increase  at  their 
present  alarming  rate,  they 
must  be  a  grave  menace 
to  the  welfare  of  the  local 
toiler.  Nay,  they  will 
drive  from  his  proud  and 
ancient  patrimony  the 
industrious  barrister  -  at  -  law 


honest, 

and  substitute  in  his  place  a  sparse 
population  of  pigeon-feeders,  competent 
only  to  distribute  bread-crumbs,  and  cer- 
tainly not  able  to  fake  the  place  of  the 
legal  labourer  and  solve  knotty  problems 
under  the  Finance  Acts.  And  not  only 
are  thesa  pigeons  a  future  danger,  they 
are  a  present  evil ;  it  would  be  impossible 
to  calculate  the  harm  they  have  done 
by,  I  will  not  say  eating,  but,  at  any 
rate,  pecking  at  the  wretched  Juniors' 
briefs  I 

So  you  will  join  us,  will  you  not,  on 
this  eventful  day? 

Your  respectful 

INNER  TEMPLAR. 


DECEMDER  3,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


473 


OUT  OF  BABYLON. 

THE  moon  was  up,  the  deed  was  done, 
And  things  that  ran  as  shadows  run 
Pursued  us  to  tho  brazen  gate, 
Where  the  king-carven  lions  wait 
Beside  the  doors  of  Babylon. 

There  was  no  sound  to  break  tho  spoil 
Save  footsteps,  light  as  leaves,  that  fell 
And  followed  ever,  followed  on 
Where  the  enchanted  moonlight 

shone 
O'er  charmed  towers  and  terrible. 

The  Wizard's  word  was  muttered  low ; 
The  brazen  doors  swung  open — so  ; 

The  Wizard's  word  was  soothly  said  ; 

The  footsteps  died,  and  forth  we  fled 
Into  the  darkness,  long  ago. 

Now  of  the  deed  that  had  been  done, 
And  what  pursued,  as  shadows  run, 

And  of  tho  word  that  passed  us 
through — 

The  Wizard's  word,  the  word  of  rue — 
I  may  not  speak  to  anyone. 

1  only  sing  tho  fear  of  flight, 
And  ask  your  pity  on  my  plight, 
For  the  pale  Wizard's  eyes  of  ill 
Keep  tryst  throughout  the  years, 

and  still 
They  land  me  every  Friday  night  1 


ARMY   EXERCISES. 

THE  NEW  AUTUMN  AMUSEMENT. 
(Suggested  by  a  study  of  the  Daily  Press.) 

RECOGNISING  that  West  End  theatri- 
cal managers  will  never  be  brought  to 
study  tho  comfort  of  their  patrons, 
especially  in  the  less  expensive  seats, 
till  some  really  drastic  measures  are 
taken,  The  Poor  Pittites  Training  Corps 
has  lately  been  founded  by  Mr.  Rupert 
Swashbuck,  of  Ealing.  The  chief 
objects  of  the  movement  are  said  to 
be  the  demolition  of  early  doors  for 
which  extra  payment  is  demanded,  the 
gratis  distribution  of  programmes,  and 
the  extinction  of  late  arrivals,  who  will 
be  shot  at  sight.  In  a  word,  the  support 
and  preservation  of  Law,  Order  and  the 
Rights  of  Playgoers.  Major-Gen.  Sir 
Charles  Hooter  has  accepted  the  pro- 
visional command  of  the  corps,  and 
drilling  matintes  will  take  place  on 
Wednesdays  and  Saturdays  on  Ealing 
Common. 

The  Company  of  Anti  -  Motorist 
Rough  Riders  held  its  first  monthly 
inspection  and  parade  yesterday.  This 
is  a  civilian  force  which  has  been  raised 
by  Col.  P.  Destrian,  of  Watford  (and 
late  of  tho  Indian  army),  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  amenities  of  the  high- 
road. The  troopers,  mostly  well-set-up 
young  farmers,  were  mounted  on 
serviceable-looking  steeds,  and  armed 


Newly-appointed  Territorial  Colonel.  "LooK  HEBE,  SEBQEANT-MAJOB,  I'll  AFRAID  MT 

DOO   HAS   KILLED  YOUB  CAT.      I " 

Scrgcant-Major  (itigratialingly).  "On,  IT'LL  DO  IT  A.  POWEB  OP  GOOD,  Sin." 


with  six-shooters,  steel  chains,  and 
bags  of  ten-inch  nails  for  tyre-destruc- 
tion. Altogether  some  twelve  hundred 
men  were  said  to  be  on  parade,  and 
the  gallant  colonel,  who  himself  took 
the  salute,  expressed  himself  as  more 
than  satisfied  with  the  success  of  the 
movement. 

The  Society  for  the  Suppression  of 
Street  Noises  has  lately  brought  itself 
into  line  with  the  prevailing  militancy 
by  the  institution  of  a  company  of 
expert  bomb-flingers,  under  the  personal 
command  of  Captain  Bayard,  D.S.O. 
Target-practice  is  indulged  in  every 
week-day  evening  at  the  South  Kens- 
ington headquarters  of  the  company, 
and  the  members,  who  are  mostly  fine 
stalwart-looking  civil  servants  on  the 
retired  list,  are  said  to  have  attained 
remarkable  proficiency  in  aim.  Great 
enthusiasm  is  displayed  for  the  move- 
ment, Onslow  Gardens  especially  being 
prepared  to  run  witli  blood  rather  than 
sacrifice  one  jot  of  its  traditional  quiet 
and  respectability. 


With  reference  to  the  fighting  re- 
ported from  the  Midlands  we  learn  that 
a  battalion  of  the  Coventry  branch  of 
Practical  Canvassers,  who  had  been 
scouring  the  country  with  maxims  in 
support  of  a  candidate  for  the  city 
council,  appear  to  have  fallen  in  with 
the  mounted  section  of  the  Society  for 
the  Suppression  of  Political  Speeches 
returning  from  a  field-day  near  Kenil- 
worth.  At  the  moment  of  writing  no 
exact  details  as  to  the  casualties  are 
obtainable,  but  these  are  .known  to  be 
enormous.  Heavy  firing  having  been 
heard  this  afternoon  from  Leamington, 
it  is  feared  that  the  Peace  Preservation 
Party,  who  are  reported  to  be  in  the 
neighbourhood  with  several  field-guns, 
have  joined  in  the  action.  Further 
particulars  will  be  published  in  our 
later  editions. 


"Frenchman,  bachelor,  19,  socks  place  as 
Tutor."— Advl.  in  "  Morning  Post." 
It  is  time  that  these  confirmed  women- 
haters  were  taxed. 


474 


PUNCH,    OR   TI1K    LONDON    CIJARIVAKL 


[DECEMBER    3,    1913. 


Bull's  Other  Island,   as  Mr.  KIPLINQ       He  bit  his  lip  and  frowned,  and 
has  wittily  termed  it.  ...    Good  morn-   words   came   with   difliculty.      "1  am 
ing,  if  you  mu-t  go.     I  think  wo  shall  |  the  strong,  silent  man,"  he  said, 
have  rain  shortly,  but  Btff-Ball  will!      "Oh,   you   are,   are   you'.'"  I   said 
keep   you   amused   through    the   most  I  "  and  what  do  you  want  witli  me?  " 


depressing  weather." 


"  I    want   a   job  in  your   hook,"  lie 


BIFF-BALL. 

THE  NKW  GAME  THAT  EVERYONE 
WILL  SOON  HE  I'LAYINO. 

(With  acknoirledyments  to  many  of  our 
contemporaries.) 

INTENT  upon  learning  what  game  is 

to  fill  our  homes  with  innocent  merri-      ^  .  ,  _  _. 

mcnt  this  Christmas,  our  representative  This  includes  a  complete  outfit  of  court '  months,"  he  said.  "  There  was  a  time 
yesterday  visited  the  vast  emporium  of  plaster,  lint,  arnica  and  other  medical !  when  I  was  so  busy  I  didn't  know  which 
Tiddledy,  Winks  it  Co.,  and  inter-  requisites.  I  way  to  turn.  I  figured  in  practically 

viewed  the  genial  man-  — •  ,  every    novel   that 

agar. 

"The  game  of  the 
coming  season  ?"  repeat- 
ed the  latter.  "Un- 
doubtedly Biff -Bail. 
Come  with  me." 

Our  representative 
followed  him  into  an- 
other room,  where  a  large 
green  cloth  was  found  to 
be  laid  on  the  floor, 
securely  pegged  at  the  ' 
four  corners.  Two  goals  ' 
were  placed  nt  opposite 
ends  of  this  cloth,  and  a 
wooden  ball  about  the 
size  of  an  orange  reposed 
in  the  middle  of  it. 

"  This  is  all  the  appar- 
atus required,"  said  the 
manager.   "The  rules  are 
equally     simple.       Two 
players  insinuate  them- 
selves between  the  cloth 
and  the  floor,  and  at  a 
given    signal    each    en- 
deavours to  urge  the  ball 
from  underneath  through 
his  opponent's  goal.   We 
claim  that  Biff-Ball  will 
promote    more    hilarity 
among  spectators  in  ten 
minutes  than  any  other 
sport  in  a   week,  while 
among  players  it  has  al- 
ready been  found  to  cure 
gout,     indigestion     and 
obesity  and  to  conducs 
to    a    beneficial    thickening    of     the; 
skull.       Mr.     SHAW     has    praised     it 
on     the     ground     that     it     abolishes 
the   absurd   tradition   of    chivalry   to- 
wards women  (for,  of  course,  "  mixed  " 
matches  will  be  frequent).  Mr.  CHESTER- 
TON   has    challenged    the    Bishop    of 


-    ">. 

HOW  ONE  IMAGINES  THE  EPOCH-MAKING  SPEECH  WAS  DELIVERED  AND  RECEIVED. 


aSe™8°f 


matcles  to   thlrten 


The  price  of  a  Biff-Ball  set,  as  an-  answered  sullenly.  Then,  with  a  mighty 
nounced  in  the  full-page  advertisement  I  effort,  he  shook  off  his  reluctance  to 
which  appears  in  this  issue,  is  only  15.s.  j  speak.  "  I  've  been  out  of  work  for 


came 

out.  No  sooner  hud 
Hearts  and  Crafts  closed, 
leaving  Muriel  in  my 
arms  at  last,  than  I  had 
to  hurry  off  to  rescue 
Marjory  in  Out  of  the 
Mist.  Now,  for  some 
reason,  no  one  wants  the 
strong,  silent  man.  And 
yet,  properly  treated,  I 
could  bring  anyone  a 
fortune." 

He  turned  those  great 
expiessive  eyes,  of  which 
I  had  so  often  read, 
upon  me. 

"  Give  mo  a  job  in  your 
new  book,  Sir !  "  he  cried 
imploringly.  "  I  can  do 
anything.  I  'm  the  finest 
horseman  in  Europe,  and 
the  finest  shot.  I  can 
do  anything  but  talk  !  " 
And  he  relapsed  into 
silence. 

I  felt  really  sorry  for 
the  fellow. 

"  Eonald.Gei  aid,  Alec," 
I  said — "whichever  of 
your  aliases  you  prefer — 
I  am  sorry  that  I  have 
nothing  to  offer  you.  I 
have  a  comic  gardener's 
part  still  open  " — he  gave 
a  gesture  of  scorn — "  but 
that,  of  course,  is  of  no 
use  to  you.  Now,  may 
I  be  frank  ?  " 

"  TTTT?    dTRniMn     err  T?MT>    -\T  \  vr  »  !      ^e  bent  his  head  in  silent  assent, 
lalij    blKUJNG,    SILENT    MAN.          ,,  mi        T      '11  j.  n 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  why  you  have 

1  WAS  busily  engaged  upon  the  first  joined  the  ranks  of  the  unemployed, 
chapter  of  my  new  romantic  novel,  I  It  is  because  you  have  been  found  out. 
Crolden  Syrup,  and  had  just  realised  j  It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  say  to  any 
that  m  my  description  of  Courtleigh  j  man,  particularly  to  so  fine  a  specimen 
Manor  I  haxl  used  the  word  *' Q"nQo*"Y*°i  "'*»"  ™«. ,,.„„!;  u.,t  *i :*.  :,.  .  - 


WHAT  GENERALLY  HAPPENS  NOWADAYS. 


played  on  Boxing-Day,  and  Bom- 
bardier WELLS,  the  eminent  pugilist,  is 
using  it  as  his  principal  means  of 
training  in  preparation  for  his  great 
light  with  CAHPENTIER. 

Biff-Ball  is  destined   to   be  among 

ndoor  games  what  the  Tango  is  among 

dances..  In  a  few  weeks  it  will  have 

swept  the  country  from  John  o'  Groats 

to   Land's   End,   not   excluding    John 


ancestral"    as  yourself,  but  there  it  is;   you  area 
when  I  looked  up  and   humbug.     Despite  vour  splendid,  vour 


saw  him  standing  by  my  writing-table,   miraculous  achievements,  it  has'  been 
He  was  a  tall  man,  but  exceptionally   impossible  to  conceal  any  longer  the 

T£»  I  I      »-\  l»*-vi-i  y-i  t-J-  m  n  n  , 1         . .   „.   .1       1  _    _  .'-II'  _• 


well  proportioned,  and  he  carried  hirn- 


fact  that  you   are   silent,  not   because 


...   -»-.  .^  '  — ~  lauu   tiutu  ^uu    cue    yueui,   nuu    uecause 

self  with  a  rare  distinction,  despite  the  j  you  are  strong,  but  because  you  cannot 

fact  that  his  clothes  were  frayed  and  j  think  of  anything  to  say.  There  is  only 

He  wore  his   hair   a   little   one  chance  for  you ;  you  must  learn  to 

longer  than  I  care  to  see  it,  but  he  was !  talk.     Buy  a  book  of  Irish " 

undoubtedly   handsome    in    a    square- 


jawed,  gloomy  style. 

"  And  who  are  you  ?  "  I  asked. 


But  he  had  turned  on  his  heel,  and, 
still  with  his  air  of  indescribable  dis- 
tinction, had  left  the  room. 


3,  1913.] 


IT \rn,  OR  TIIK  LONDON  en  \i;i\  \KF. 


47-. 


STUDIES   OF   BEVIEWEBS. 

II. — THF.  AUTOBIOGRAPHIC.^. 

THIS  charming  volume  of  literary 
studies  by  Mr.  Desmond  Jubb  has  :i 
peculiar  interest  for  me,  because  it 
recalls  that  p"riod — the  happiest  of  my 
life — in  which  I  was  privileged  to  bj 
his  comrade  and  fellow  student  at 
Balliol  College,  Oxford.  For,  in  trutli, 
I  can  say  more  than  ]'/></ <7(  inn  ridi 
tantiim.  I  not  only  saw  Desmond 
Jubb  at  lectures  in  Hall  and  on  the 
tow-path,  where  his  clarion  tones  rang 
out  above  all  his  contemporaries  during 
the  torpids  and  eights,  but  I  belonged 
to  the  same  wine  club  and  wore  the 
same  waistcoat-buttons.  I  shall  never 
fin-get  the  first  time  that  I  met  him. 
It  was  in  the  Michaelmas  term  and  I 
had  returned  a  fortnight  late,  owing 
to  a  rather  severe  attack  of  German 
measles,  from  the  srqiiclce  of  which 
I  still  suffer  in  tbe^shape  of  slightly 
impaired  hearing  of  the  right  ear.  I 
was  hurrying  out  of  college  to  order 
some  more  brown  sherry,  a  beverage 
to  which  in  those  days  I  was  much 
addicted,  when  I  ran  violently  into  a 
handsome  ycung  man  with  a  high 
forehead,  wearing  a  rather  outri  tio. 
I  should  exp'ain  that  he  was  a  fresh- 
man, while  1  was  already  in  my  fourth 
year;  yet  in  this  collision  ho  at  once 
assume;!  the  position  of  a  senior, 
gravely  rebuked  me  for  my  precipitancy, 
and  then  with  irresistible  bonhomie 
invited  me  to  lunch  at  Goffin's.  Gottin's 
shop,  I  should  explain,  was  renowned 
in  those  days  for  its  marvellously  fine 
pork-pies,  of  which  I  was  immoder- 
ately fond,  and  I  found  that  my  new 
acquaintance  rendered  equal  justice 
to  their  succulent  qualities,  albeit 
not  apparently  endowed  with  the 
same  undefeated  digestion  as  myself. 

The  conversation  that  took  place  is 
indelibly  imprinted  on  my  memory. 
I  remember  Jubb's  observing  what  a 
remarkably  protean  animal  the  pig 
was,  inasmuch  as  an  entirely  different 
quality  attached  to  various  portions  oi 
his  anatomy,  ham  differing  from  bacon 
and  pork  from  brawn.  He  confessed 
that  the  mere  mention  of  pig's  feet 
filled  him  with  horror,  in  which  1 
cordially  concurred.  That  exquisite 
fastidiousness  which  is  so  marked  a 
feature  of  these  essays  had  thus  already 
declared  itself.  He  was  rather  shocked 
at  my  drinking  shandy  -  gaff,  while 
admitting  that  the  name  had  always 
interested  him.  On  this  occasion,  I 
remember,  he  partook  of  cherry-brandy, 
to  correct,  as  ho  put  it,  the  exuberance 
of  the  pork-pie.  Ho  smoked  two  or 
three  cigarettes  afterwards,  and  ] 
noticed  that  they  were  Russian,  of  the 
"  La  Eerme  "  brand — Egyptian  cigar- 


THE    SPARTAN    MOTHER. 


ettes  had  not  yet  come  into  vogue.  He 
told  me  that  he  got  his  ties  from  the 
famous  London  house  of  Fraternity 
and  that  they  cost  him  7s.  6d.  apiece, 
and  he  was  surprised  to  hear  that  I 
only  paid  Is.  !!£<?.  for  mine  at  Charity 
Bros. 

At  the  time,  of  course,  I  was  not 
aware  that  I  was  entertaining  a  literary 
angel,  and  yet  I  felt  that  I  was 
exchanging  ideas  with  one  of  the  most 
versatile  and  engaging  of  my  fellow- 
students.  He  was  so  perfectly  frank 
and  ingenuous,  so  ebullient  and  yet  so 
reserved  that  I  had  a  sub-conscious 
feeling  he  must  be  marked  out  for 
exceptional  greatness.  Besides  his 
taste  in  ties,  I  remember  that  he  never 
wore  a  mackintosh,  though  curiously 
enough  in  wet  weather  1  have  often 
seen  him  in  goloshes.  He  resented 
familiarity.  I  remember  once,  in  a 


moment  of  expansion,  addressing  him 
as  "  old  chap,"  and  his  replying,  "  I  am 
neither  old  nor  a  chap,"  and  when  I 
begged  his  pardon  he  kindly  said, 
"Granted,  hut  don't  let  it  happen 
again."  At  our  wine  club  he  always 
sat  at  the  other  end  of  the  table, 
so  that  I  seldom  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  speaking  to  him  on  these 
occasions. 

Unfortunately,  I  was  obliged  to  leave 
BaUiol  iu  the  middle  of  my  fourth 
year  owing  to  an  attack  of  pernicious 
squifiies,  and  I  have  never  met  Des- 
mond Jubb  again.  Our  paths  have  lain 
apart,  but  1  was  never  surprised  at 
his  meteoric  rise  to  eminence  in  the 
literary  firmament,  and  I  welcome  this 
charming  volume  ns  a  rich  fulfilment 
of  the  early  promise  that  he  gave  in 
what  I  may  call,  not  his  salad,  but  his 
pork-pie  days. 


476 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Di<cE:.iBS3  3,  1913. 


FUTURISTIC    FUN. 

(Xoticc  from  "  The  Daily  Iconoclast "  for 
November  21st,  1923.) 

AT  last  London  has  a  "real  theatre  of  wonder  and  o 
records  "  on  the  principles  laid  down  by  the  great  Foundei 
of  Futurism,  Signer  MAKINKTTI  !  And,  by  a  singular  coinci- 
dence, this  notice  appears  exactly  ten  years  to-day  from  the 
date  of  publication  of  his  epoch-making  article,  "  The  Mean- 
ing of  the  Music-IIall,"  in  the  columns  of  our  contemporary 
The  Daily  Mail  I  Needless  to  say  that  the  entertainment 
last  night  at  the  Pallidrome  Theatre  of  Varieties  was  re- 
ceived with  delirious  enthusiasm.  Considerations  of  space 
forbid  us  to  mention  every  "  turn  "  individually ;  we  can 
only  particularise  a  few,  though  there  was  none  that  failed 
to  fulfil  Signer  MAIUNKTTI'S  condition  of  success — the  pro- 
duction of  "Futuristic  wonder." 

The  "  synthetic  combination  of  speed  with  transforma- 
tion," which,  as  ho  has  taught  us,  is  one  of  "  the  dominating 
laws  of  life,"  was  luminously  illustrated  by  a  phenomenally 
stout  entertainer  who  with  lightning  rapidity  peeled  off 
several  successive  garments  of  startlingly  Futurist  hues, 
until  ho  eventually  revealed  himself  as  a  living  skeleton, 
an  "  absorbing  and  decisive  symbol "  which  excited  the 
"  torrents  of  hilarity  "  that  the  Master  mentions  as  one  of 
the  peculiar  products  of  the  Variety  Theatre.  Then,  as 
Signer  MABINETTI  so  nobly  recommended,  "heroism  and  a 
strong  and  healthy  atmosphere  of  danger  "  were  furnished 
for  the  delighted  spectators  by  a  lofty  trapeze  act  with  bars 
that  had  been  so  effectually  soaped  that  one  of  the  gymnasts 
fell  about  sixty  feet,  fortunately  landing  on  a  member  of  the 
orchestra  who,  till  that  moment,  had  been  performing  on 
the  ophicleide. 

Next  we  were  entranced  by  an  artist  who  gave  lifelike 
imitations  of  a  Buff  Orpington  hen  being  run  over  by 
a  motor-car,  a  beetroot  in  a  state  of  incipient  hysteria,  and 
a  debased  half-crown,  thereby  exemplifying  what  the  High 
Priest  of  Futurism  terms  "  the  profound  analogies  be- 
tween the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  worlds,  and 
human  beings." 

Following  him  came  a  couple  who  were  described  with 
some  aptness  as  "knock-about  comedians,"  and  of  them  it 
is  only  justice  to  state  that,  in  Signer  MARINETTI'S  memor- 
able phraseology,  "they  pleasantly  fanned  the  intellect 
with  a  network  of  sprightly  wit,  doltishness,  and  foolery  of 
the  deepest  kind,  till  they  insensibly  urged  the  souls  of  their 
hearers  to  the  very  edge  of  madness,  and  to  participate 
noisily  in  queer  improvised  dialogues." 

After  that  a  highly  instructive  exhibition  of  another  of 
the  dominating  laws  of  life—"  the  interpretation  of  rhythm  " 
— was  afforded  by  a  lady  who  performed  an  impromptu  and 
daringly  unconventional  dance  in  a  costume  that,  when 
perceptible,  was  exquisitely  diaphanous. 

Then  the  two  "  Synthetic  Sisters,"  strangely  seductive 
with  their  Futurist  green  hair,  blue  necks,  violet  arms,  and 
orange  chignons,  sang  a  duet  which,  to  quote  once  more 
illustrious  Futurist  philosopher,  "brutally  stripped 
Woman  of  all  the  veils  that  mask  and  deform  her," 
to  the  unspeakable  edification  of  all  the  "  adolescents  and 
young  people  of  promise"  present,  for  whom,  as  Signor 
MARINETTI  holds,  "  the  Variety  Theatre  is  the  only  school 
to  be  recommended." 

^  But  perhaps  the  wildest  furore  was  evoked  by  a  Topical 
singer,   who,   fulfilling    what    the    immortal    MARINETTI 

:Iared  to  be  the  function  of  such   artists,  "explained 

i  swiftest,  most  striking   manner  the  most  mysterious 

sentimental  problems  of  life   and   the   most  complicated 

political  events."    And  all  by  a  refrain  that  was  a  little 

nasterpiece  of  "  coarse  simplicity." 


The  "  mechanical  grotesque  effects,"  too,  of  an  American 
Eccentric,  and  his  "  methodical  walk  round  after  each 
verse,"  were  deeply  significant  of  things  in  general. 

Sketches  were  interspersed — and  such  sketches  I  We 
can  give  them  no  higher  praise  than  to  say  that  each  and 
all  achieved  the  Marinettian  ideal  of  "  destroying  all  that  is 
solemn,  sacred,  earnest,  and  pure  in  Art,"  and  "decom- 
posing such  worn-out  prototypes  as  the  beautiful,  the  great, 
and  the  religious." 

Altogether  an  historic  evening.  A  show  the  like  of  which 
this  Metropolis  has  never  before  seen,  palpitating  with  the 
actuality  and  originality  that  are  still  so  deplorably  lacking 
on  the  regular  stage.  And  the  audience,  all  of  them  imbued 
to  their  finger-ends  with  "the  new  sensibility,"  simply 
"  ate "  it.  There  was  nothing  stupidly  passive  or  static 
about  them — except  in  the  case  of  spectators  whose  stalls 
had,  in  accordance  with  Signor  MARINETTI'S  recommenda- 
tion, been  liberally  smeared  with  seceotine. 

Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  Box  Office  had  followed 
another  suggestion  of  his  and  sold  the  same  seats  to  ten 
different  persons,  there  were,  as  he  correctly  predicted, 
several  "rows"  during  the  performance,  as  "immense" 
as  the  most  unreasonable  Futurist  could  wish  for. 

Perhaps,  however,  he  was  less  inspired  in  the  advice  to 
"  allot  free  seats  to  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  are  notoriously 
cranky  " — a  practice  which,  we  think,  might  well  be  aban- 
doned in  future.  It  is  a  regrettable  fact  that  the  inmates 
of  private  lunatic  asylums  who  had  been  given  compli- 
mentary tickets  maintained  a  comparative  self-restraint  and 
decorum  that  might  well  have  clamped  the  spirits  of  their 
neighbours,  had  the  latter  been  less  completely  under  the 
sway  of  what  Signor  MABINETTI  aptly  described  as  "the 
*reat  Futuristic  Hilarity  that  shall  rejuvenate  the  face  of 
;he  earth."  J1.  A 

GARKIN  AND  LARVIN 

Garkin  and  Larvin  were  wonderful  men, 
Each  with  an  energy  equal  to  ten  ; 
Each  was  endowed  witli  superlative  vim, 
Each  was  addressed  by  his  cronies  as  "  Jim." 

Garkin,  when  speaking  in  Albert  his  Hall, 
Made  you  imagine  the  ceiling  would  fall : 
Larvin,  whenever  he  blew  on  his  trumpet, 
Made  you  feel  "  barmy  "  all  over  the  "  crumpet." 

Never  an  orator  stumping  Hyde  Park  in 
The  power  of  his  tongue  was  a  patch  upon  Garkin ; 
But  with  his  length  and  his  vigour  combined 
Larvin  left  Garkin  completely  behind. 

Stark  in  defying  all  law  and  authority, 
Wholly  unequalled  in  vocal  sonority, 
Garkin,  exhaustively  tested,  emerge"s 
First  of  the  moderns  who  ape  Boanerges. 

Grand  in  his  nobly  pontifical  mien, 
Greatly  majestic,  superbly  serene, 
Never  defeated  in  any  dispute, 
Larvin  annexes  the  whole  arrow-root. 

Here  then 's  a  health  to  you,  wonderful  pair, 
Lord  of  the  larynx,  Higli  Priest  of  hot  air! 
Long  may  you  live  in  democracy's  hymns 
Hailed  as  by  far  the  most  jumpy  of  Jims. 

Another  Impending  Apology. 

"In  Mr.  John  Palmer  we  have  a  critic  of  thj  younger  gcneratkn 
who  merits  a  good  deal  more  than  the  general  scorn  that  is  so 
avishly  bestowed  upon  the  critic." — Observer. 


DECEMBER    3,    1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


477 


Salesman.  "Ann,  WHATEVER  SPEED  you  MAY  BE  ooiuo,  WHEN  YOU  PUT  ON  THIS  BRAKE  YOU  STOP  IN  FIVE  YABDS DEAD." 

Prtspective  Purdutser.  "How  DREADFUL!     I'VE  ALWAYS  THOUGHT  TUEY  WEBE  so  DAKOEROUS." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
IF  you  care  to  hear  a  wise  and  kind  old  lady  talking 
pleasantly  of  the  many  interesting  folk  she  has  known 
during  a  long  and  distinguished  life,  make  haste  to  put 
yourself  in  communication  with  Lady  RITCHIE,  who  will 
speak  thus  tj  you  From  the  Porch  (SMITH,  ELDER).  Wel- 
come as  this  volume  will  be  to  all  who  love  men  and  things 
of  good  report,  it  can  be  greeted  by  none  more  warmly  than 
by  Mr.  Punch,  for  whom  the  name  of  the  writer  must 
always  recall  some  of  his  proudest  associations.  Lady 
RITCHIE  does  not  tell  us  much  in  the  present  book  about 
her  great  father,  but  there  are  many  others  of  the  famous 
dead  of  whom  we  obtain  new  and  happy  pictures.  For  my- 
self I  found  a  peculiar  interest  in  the  paper  called  "Charles 
Dickens  as  I  remember  him."  Hero  there  is  one  little  pen- 
portrait  that  I  cannot  resist  transcribing.  The  writer  is 
telling  of  the  time  when  the  families  THACKERAY  and  DICKENS 
wore  opposite  neighbours  in  Paris.  "  One  day  I  specially 
remember,  when  wo  had  come  to  settle  about  a  drawing- 
class  with  our  young  companion  K.  E.  [DICKENS'  daughter], 
her  father  came  into  the  room  accompanied  by  a  dignified 
person — too  dignified,  we  thought — who  came  forward  and 
made  some  solemn  remark,  such  as  Hamlet  himself  might 
have  addressed  to  Yorick,  and  then  stood  in  an  attitude  in 
the  middle  of  the  room.  The  Paris  springtime  was  at  its 
height,  there  was  music  outside,  a  horse  champing  in  the 
road,  voices  through  the  open  window,  and  Mr.  Macready, 
for  it  was  he,  tragic  in  attitude  gravely  waiting  an  answer. 
Mr.  Dickens  seemed  to  have  instantly  seized  the  incongruity, 


suddenly  responding  with  another  attitude  and  another 
oration  in  the  Hamlet  manner,  so  drolly  and  gravely,  that 
Macready  himself  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  burlesque." 
Does  this  little  extract  show  you  the  original  charm  of  tho 
book  ?  1  hope  so. 

When  your  small  nephew  or  niece  replies  to  your  question 
on  the  subject  of  Christmas  presents  that  he  or  she  would 
like  a  book  this  year,  do  not  rush  off  to  the  nearest  book- 
shop and  hunt  through  the  shelves  devoted  to  juvenile 
literature,  for  that  way  madness  lies.  It  is  not  good  for 
any  uncle  to  be  confronted  suddenly  by  that  blaze  of  colour. 
Just  stay  at  home  and  write  to  the  shop  as  follows: 
"  DEAR  SIR, — Kindly  forward  me  at  once  Mr.  H.  DE  VERB 
STACPOOLE'S  adventure  story,  Bird  Cay  (WELLS  GARDNER, 
DARTON).  One  of  Mr.  Punch's  Learned  Clerks  informs  me 
that  it  is  an  admirable  story  in  every  way."  Mr.  STACPOOLE 
is,  of  course,  at  his  best  in  describing  stirring  deeds  in  tropical 
surroundings ;  but  never  before  have  I  received  so  vivid  an 
impression  of  the  atmosphere  of  those  distant  seas.  H:s  story 
deals  with  a  search  for  treasure  buried  on  a  desert  island ; 
and  when  I  say  treasure  I  mean  treasure — great  chunks  of 
gold  in  brick  form.  The  hero  is  a  boy  who  stows  himself 
away  on  the  treasure-hunting  ship  and  has  the  satisfaction 
of  being  the  one  who  succeeds  in  actually  unearthing  (or 
unsanding)  the  gold.  It  is  this  part  of  the  book  which 
I  count  on  to  attract  the  young  nephew.  The  story  is  a 
little  reminiscent  of  STEVENSON'S  masterpiece;  but,  after  all, 
what  does  that  matter?  And  if  the  villain  is  a  shade  dis- 
appointing to  admirers  of  John  Silver  he  is  nevertheless 
a  pretty  good  villain,  so  that 's  all  right. 


47.S 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  3.  1913. 


Tilr    MACDONAGH   1ms   left    nothing  more  to  be  said  by 
laU-r  i.i»tuiians  aboul  Tht.  Barters'  UMcry  (IIoDDER  AND 
iiTON)      In  exhaustive,  as  distinct  from  exhausting, 
i-  ho  deals  with  the  subject  from  two  points  of  view 


known  not  to  exist) ;  how,  when  he  had  got  it  and  made 
such  a  prodigious  success  of  it  that  he  could  educate  his  son 
to  be  a  lino  gentleman,  that  son  won  most  events  at  the 


muimuL  uo  wwa  —  j —  —  »  ..  ,     ,, 

_tho  first,  historical ;  the  second,  personal.  Possibly  the 
i-  part  of  liis  work,  for  which  ho  is  qualified  by  twenty- 
veua  of  experience  in  the  gallery,  will  be  the  more 


live  vears  01  expeuun^u  ui   w«i  b""^. .    .        ,. 

popular,  though  the  former  has  abiding  interest,  being  the 
Suit  of  pancaking  study  of  the  relations  between  Press 
and  Parliament  going  back  to  Stuart  days.  One  of  the 
ordinances  governing  debate  in  the  Houso  of  Commons 
nins  that  a  Member  on  his  legs  must  not  direct  his  speech 


school  sports  at  Walshaw  (a  fictitious  spot)  by  reason  of  his 
having  trained  on  the  cinder  track  behind  T)ie  Fitjhtiiuj 

Let  it,  however,  not 


Cocks  (a  very  actual  public-bouse). 

bo  thought  that  Mr.  WOUIL'S  interest  is  purely  local ;  his 
observations  apply  to  all  parts  of  the  country  wherever 
is  known  that  invaluable  and  never -to -be -sufficiently - 
legislated-for  entity,  the  working-man  (Hear,  hear),  whom 
he  exposes  and  shows  to  be  no  better  then  the  rest  of 
us  (Shame).  I  was,  I  must  say,  surprised  to  find  a  son  of 
this  so  humbly  originating  cobbler  almost  entangled  in  a 
dashing  divorce  case ;  but  the  fault  of  improbability  is  less 
with  this  novel  than  with  the  others  which  have  always 

her  of  the  Front  Benches.     The  Speaker  m  the   taught  me   to   associate  the  pastimes  of   responding  and 
Chair  is  close  at  hand  ;    their  audience  is  seated  behind  j  co-responding  exclusively  with  the  higher  and  less  innately 

them  and  below  the  Gangways  as  far  as  the  Bar.     Strictly  |  virtuous  classes.  

to  obey  the  order  it  would  be  necessary  for  them  to  turn 

i          i     _i__       _  ii :„„ ::.,,,,...      Tr\of I«/»f ! t-ol v  if.  i<i  t.lipir  lui,hit 


enjoins  that  a  Member  on 

to  the  House  or  to  any  section  of  it. 


•This  rule,"  Mr. 


LU    LIIO    **vum    •*•  w-^  -  ,, 

M  U-DON  veil  testifies,  "  is  as  often  broken  as  it  is  observed. 
Its  breach  is  commonest  in  the  case  of  Members  rising  from 
_  /  Ai.  _  t\.~.^  TJn.-i^linc.-      TUn  RnAfLiTAr  in  the' 


Mr.  GLADSTONE 


their  backs  on  their  audience.    Instinctively jt  isjheir  habit 
to  present  that  view  to  the  Speaker's  eye, 
was    a  great  sinner    in     - 
this  respect.     Not  infre-  j 
quently  he  turned  right  | 
1  round  to  his  supporters  | 
above  the  Gangway  and  , 
literally  drove  home  his  j 
argument    by    violently 
beating  the  palm  of  his 
left  hand  with  the  fingers 
of  his  right.   Sir  WILLIAM 
HAUCOUHT   was,   in    re- 
spect of  this  rule,  another 
habitually  disorderly  per- 
son.   The  Cross  Benches 
at  either  side  of  the  Bar 
would    afford   the    best 
vantage,  but  as  they  are 
technically   outside    the 
House  they  may  not  be 
used  for  oratorical  pur- 
poses.   BRADLAUOH   ac- 


Vnwelcome  Intruder.  "  COULD  YEB  'ELP  A  poon  FELLER  AS   UD  STOP 
NOTHIN'  TEB  GAIN  'is  ENDS,  KIND  LADY?" 


cidentally  discovered  the 
merits  of  this  quarter  when,  being  forbidden  to  enter 
the  House,  he  addressed  it  from  the  Bar.  The  interest 
of  reporters  in  this  matter  is  direct.  Their  gallery  bsing 
immediately  over  the  Speaker's  chair,  speech  adirassed  in 
obediance  to  the  rule  reaches  their  ears.  Thay  suffer  even 
more  than  the  Speaker  when  a  Matnbar  turns  his  back  on 
the  Chair.  This  is  one  of  the  particulars  of  Parliaimntary 
proceedings  that  Mr.  MACDONAGH  makes  clear  to  the  under- 
standing of  the  man  in  the  street.  I  have  touched  upon 
only  one  detail  of  his  work,  but  the  whole  book  is  alluring, 
and  I  advise  every  student  of  Parliamentary  reports  to  get 
it  and  read  it  through.  He  will  find  it  equally  entertaining 
and  instructive. 


Most  readers  will  thank  Mr.  GEORGE  WOUIL  for  his 
delightful  Sowing  Clover  (LONG),  but  such  as  live  in* 
South  Staffordshire  will  do  so  with  a  touch  of  suppressed 
irritation.  In  a  particularly  graphic  book  he  has  done  a 
particularly  tiresome  thing,  and  that  is,  while  making  a 
great  point  of  his  topography,  to  call  some  places  by  their 
own  and  others  by  assumed  names.  He  should  have  dealt 
impartially  with  the  whole  Black  Country,  disguising  all 
or  none ;  as  it  is,  the  native  Black  must  be  upset  to  read 
how  John  Wittongate,  the  cobbler,  made  a  house-to-house 
canvass  for  work  from  Salop  Street,  Wolverhampton  (which 
is  known  to  exist)  to  the  outlying  Tambridge  (which  is 


On  page  135  of  The  Pilgrim  from  Chicago  (LONGMANS) 
its  author,  Mr.  CHRISTIAN  TEARLE,  observes,  "  Describing 

— I  places  is  a  very  troublo- 
\  some  business."  It  was, 
j  I  suppose,  because  he  felt 
•  this  difficulty  that  he 
has  tried  to  avoid  it  by 
filling  his  book  of  topo- 
graphy with  dialogue, 
and  inventing  a  visitor 
from  the  States  to  hang 
it  upon.  The  idea,  which 
he  has  used  onco  before 
in  Humbles  iritli  an 
j  American,  is  certainly 
ingenious — indeed,  to  my 
own  thinking,  a  little  too 
'  much  so.  Mr.  TEARLE'S 
enthusiasms  and  infor- 
mation about  old  places 
and  their  associations 
would  be  more  pleasing 
without  this  elaborate 
pretence.  In  short,  the 
Chicago  gentleman  bored  me.  I  felt  all  the  time  that 
if  I  had  the  author  to  myself,  content  just  to  point  out 
things  of  interest  and  let  me  enjoy  them,  1  should 
spend  a  much  happier  time  than  as  eavesdropper  to  the 
frequently  rather  vapid  conversation  he  exchanges  with  his 
American  friend.  Perhaps  I  am  ungracious.  No  doubt 
there  are  many  persons  (I  have  a  suspicion  of  their  nation- 
ality) who  will  prefer  this  method  of  imparting  knowledge, 
and"  for  whom  the  cliche,  so  painfully  frequent  in  Mr. 
TEARLE'S  pages,  will  have  no  terrors.  As  it  is  for  these 
that  the  book  has  obviously  been  written  its  success  should 
he  assured.  It  is  only  fair  to  add  that  even  the  most  fasti- 
dious reader  will  find  in  it  a  wealth  of  engaging  speculation 
and  discovery,  of  which  the  scene  is  largely,  though  not 
solely,  London.  Hunters  of  the  Dickensian  snark  should 
especially  appreciate  this  book,  above  all  for  its  wholly 
admirable  photographs,  many  of  which  deal  with  spots 
that  Mr.  TEARLE  has  identified  in  the  novels.  He  has 
done  this  so  cleverly  that  only  the  presence  of  the  third 
party  aforesaid  prevented  me  from  being  properly  grateful. 

"It  was  an  ideal  morning,  with  the  hounds  still  glowing  in  their 
brilliant  autumn  colours." — Westmoreland  Gazette. 

Colour  Enthusiast.  "That's  a  nice  brown  hound." 
Huntsman.  "  Ah,  but  you  should  see  him    in    his  pretty 
green  summer  coat." 


DECEMUKB  10,  1913.]  PUNCJIf,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


479 


CHARIVARIA. 

THE  Bishop  of  CARLISLE  says  lie  was 
never  so  startled  in  his  life  as  by  the 
sight  of  fashions  in  London  recently. 
This   reminds   us   that   wo   remembiT 
io\v  amused  ue  were  tho  first  time  we 

saw  a  bishop.        .,.  * 

* 

WTith  reference  to  tho  arrest  of  Mis. 
PANKHUHST,  which  was  carried  out  in 
such  a  manner  that  tho  general  public, 
Mrs.  PANKIIUHST'S  suffragette  sup- 
porters and  the  Press  representatives 
were  all  outwitted,  it  is  felt  in  Fleet 
Street  that  the  police  were  justified  in 
hoodwinking  the  first  two 
jlasses,  but  the  besting  of  the 
Press  representatives  bordered 
on  an  infringement  of  etiquette. 

•  MB.  LLOYD'  GEOBGE  AT 

HOLLOWAY," 

said  the  poster.  But  of  course 
they  will  let  him  out  before  long 
— like  Mr.  LARKIN. 


Mr.  KAINES  SMITH,  lecturing 
on  "  Beauty  and  Morality  "  at 
the  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum, 
described  LEONARDO  DA  VINCI'S 
"  Monna  Lisa"  as  "  one  of  the 
most  actively  evil  pictures  ever 
painted  —  one  with  an  atmo- 
sphere of  indefinable  evil."  The 
lady,  it  will  be  remembered, 
ended  up  by  becoming  the  asso- 
ciate of  thieves. 
*  * 

Meanwhile,  after  Mr.  SMITH'S 
pronouncement,  it  will  be  inter- 
esting to  see  whether  the  thieves 
will  now  come  forward  and  claim 
a  reward  for  removing  an  evil 
influence  that  was  a  grave 
danger  to  Parisian  morality. 


is  to   bo   revived 
Boxing-Day,         , 


at   Drury    Lano   on 


There  would  seem  to  ho  no  limit  to 
tho  enterprise  of  publishers.  One  of 
them  has  succeeded  in  persuading  that 
recluse  Colonel  ROOSEVELT  to  talk 
about  himself,  and  his  autobiography 
is  to  appear  next  week. 

A  foolish  lady  recently  enquired  at  a 
library  whether  Richard  t'urlomj  was  a 
sequel  to  Alice-for-Short. 


"  Best  regards  to  Sir  William,  tho 
Duke,  Mr.  Bockford,  and  all  our  friends, 


ARTISTS    AND    AUDIENCES. 

(How  to  mollify  their  mutual  relations.) 

[S  >  that  concert  artists  may   not  be  dis- 

couraged  by   the    imliflrronco    of    audiences, 

ior  Arrigo  Bocchi  has  planned   a   nvw 

i  hrni(  of  lighting  at  St.  James  Hall,  Great 

I'nrtlaii'l  Stn-i't,  vliirh  !»•  lias  acquired  for  a 

tt«    of    inu.iic   lovers.     Lights    will    bo 

focusscd  on  the  stage,  tho  aii-lu  .num  being  in 

of    s.-llli  (larkrn->s  wllirll    will   dllUt   OUV 


the  audience  from  the  sight  of  tin-  |M>rfniin  r." 


Mail.] 

Ax  excellent  beginning.  Some  further 
humane  efforts  of  a  like  character  seem 
to  have  escaped  our  bright  little  con- 


temporary. 


"I   WAST  TO  SEE   SOME  JIUDGUAllDS." 

"FOB  WHAT  MAKE  OP  CYCLE,  SlB?" 
"THEY'RE  NOT  FOB  A  CYCLE,  THEY 'BE  FOB  ME.' 


It  is  good  news  that  London  is  at 
last  to  have  an  efficient  ambulance 
service,  and  that  soon  we  shall  not 
feel  compelled  to  exercise  such  extreme 
caution  in  crossing  the  road. 


and  damn  all  our  enemies,"  is  an  extract 
from  a  letter  written  by  Lord  NKLSON 
to  Lady  HAMILTON  which  was  sold  last 
week  at  SOTHEBY'S.  There  is  a  rumour 
that  the  purchaser  was  Mr.  LAUKIX. 


bo  that  concert  -  goers  may 
not  bo  discouraged  by  the 
hideous  antics  of  long  -  haired 
piano-thumpers,  Signor  Vertigo 
Bashwood  has  planned  an 
entirely  novel  sclieme  at  the 
Tubal  Hall,  New  Bond  Street,  by 
which  at  tho  commencement  of 
tho  programme  an  extinguisher 
made  of  perforated  zinc  is  let 
down  from  the  roof  of  the  stage, 
which,  while  permitting  the  free 
passage  of  sound,  will  entirely 
shut  out  both  instrument  and 
performer  from  the  sight  of  the 
audience. 

So  that  indifferent  theatrical 
artists  may  no  longer  be  dis- 
couraged on  first  nights  by  the 
hoots  and  cat-calls  of  the 
audience,  Professor  Sumcrun 
Rheingold  has  planned  a  new 
scheme  of  acoustics  at  the  St. 
George's  Theatre,  by  which  at 
the  conclusion  of  each  Act  (or 
indeed  whenever  circumstances 
seem  to  demand)  the  audience 
can  be  rendered  entirely  in- 
audible from  the  stage.  Tlia 
invention  is  said  to  have  the 
hearty  approval  of  Mr.  BEKNABD 


; :  ->' 

Feeder  motor-'bus   routes "   is   an  i      The  hull  of  an  early  sixteenth  cen 


expression  which  appears  in  an  adver- 
tisement of  the  L.G.O.C.  We  imagine 
our  old  friend  the  Chocolate  'Bus  will 
be  found  on  one  of  these  routes. 

&     :;: 
:;i 

Tango  classes  for  Army  officers 
started  last  week  in  the  Soldiers'  Club 
at  Bordon  Camp,  Hampshire.  While 


tury  warship  has  been  discovered  at 
Woolwich,  and  our  Radical  economists 
are  hoping  that  Mr.  CHURCHILL  may 
lie  able  to  adapt  this  to  modern  needs 

and  reduce  his  estimates. 
«  * 

According   to  the  Drcsdcncr  Nach- 
richten,  a  narcotic  powder  has   boon 


it  is  a  pity  that  wo  allowed  the  German  j  invented  which  will  revolutionize  war- 
army  to  forestall  us  in  aeronautics,  it  j  fare.  Shells  charged  with  this  powder, 
really  begins  to  look  as  if  we  may '  when  exploded  among  the  enemy,  will 
gain  the  lead  here.  send  them  to  sleep  for  several  hours 

*...*  instead  of  killing  them.  It  should,  how- 

After  being  in  a  state  of  coma  for  tho  j  ever,  always  be  possible  to  send  a  rescue 
best  part  of  a  year,  Tim  Sleeping  Beauty  ;  force  with  bagpipes. 


SHAW. 

Much  the  same  plan  will  be  followed 
at  the  Adaptations  Theatre,  with  one 
important  difference,  that  here,  on  the 
approach  of  any  line  whose  wealth  of 
meaning  is  likely  to  discourage  a  family 
or  episcopal  audience,  the  stage  manager 
is  able  by  touching  a  lever  instantly  to 
sever  the  acoustic  connection  between 
the  two  sides  of  the  footlights,  which 
will  only  be  restored  when  all  possi- 
bility of  danger  is  at  an  end. 

An  item  of  "Local  News"  in  the 
Tcesdalc  Mercury : — 

"  The  Queen  of  Spain,  who.  prior  to  her 
marriage,  visited  tho  Bowes  Museum,  and 
who  has  completely  recovered  from  her 
indisposition,  will  leave  Paris  to-morrow  for 
England  to  visit  her  mother,  Princess  Henry 
of  Battenberg." 

But  it   might  be   wiser   not   to  visit 
Bowes  Museum  again. 


480 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.          [DECEMHKU  10,  1913. 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  NEAR  FUTURE. 

•  \V.   mi-.iii  to  sco  this  thinR  through." 

Mr.  Astjuilh  at  J,ccili. 

••  We  arc  Kimid  to  si-o  the  tiling  through." 
.S.i-  Kiln-lint  drey  at  lirculford.] 

\Vi:  're  not  so  young  as  once  we  were; 

Amid  our  raven  locks 
Unlovely  intervals  occur; 

\Ye  shrink  from  sudden  shock^  ; 
Our  salad  days,  a  vivid  green--- 

Time  lias  impaired  their  hue; 
But  we've  n  stubborn  will,  and  mean 

To  >--ee  this  business  through. 

Owing  io  life's  exhausting  sn< 
Coupled  witli  growth  of  girth, 

\Ve  move  more  slowly,  wo  are  less 
Kesilient  in  our  mirth  : 

But  still  our  heart,  as  ever  keen 
At  Duty's  call,  will  do 

What  England  still  expects  ;  \ve  mean 
e  this  business  through. 

Others  may  shirk  the  higher  claim, 

Over  the  sea  may  go 
To  sport  with  Chance  at  Monte's  game 

( >r  ski  about  the  snow  ; 
For  us,  we  ask  no  change  of  scene, 

No  skies  of  borro\ye_d  blue ; 
We  stay  at  home  because  we  mean 

To  see  this  business  through. 

The  pledge  \ve  gave  to  pay  our  debt 

(Hands  clasped  in  solemn  grip) 
We  Shall  redeem -'with  teeth' hard  set 

And  stiffened  upper  lip  ;  '"• 
Boy !  "you  may  trust  your  Uncle ;  he 

Has  sworn  to  face  with  you 
Even' a  pantomime,  and  see  '.•" 

This  Christmas  business  through. 

0.8. 


SHOULD  AN  AUTHOR  TELL? 

IT'  was  'a  memorable  morning  on 
which  I  found  myself  in  the  waiting- 
room  of  Mr.  Silas  K.  Joshfeller's  Variety 
Agency.  •  Again  and  again  I  had  as- 
sured myself  that,  if  one  parson  could 
wake  up  the  -music-hall  world  with  a 
problem  sketch,  there  was  no  .reason 
on  earth  why  aliother  member  of  the 
Church -should  not  meet  Xvith  almost 
equal  success.  So  that  my  natural  tre- 
pidation was  leavened  by  a  measure 
of  self-confidence.  And  yet  I  had  an 
uneasy  feeling  that  the  little  collection 
of  music-hall  artistes  saw  me  coming — 
in  the  slang  sense.  Two  men  especially 
I  singled  out,  and  I  could  have  sworn 
that  I  at  once  became  the  subject  of 
their  whispered  conversation.  One  of 
these  I  took  to  be  an  American.  He  had 
the  usual  sartorial  features,  including 
a  low-crowned  felt  hat,  a  suit  not  quite 
as  broad  as  long,  and  a  pair  of  in- 
describable boots.  His  companion  was 
a  big  Irishman,  and  appeared  to  be  a 
member  of  the  hatless  brigade.  1 
remember  thinking  at  the  time  that 


any  man  with  such  very  musical  hair 
could  well  afford  to  dispense  with  head 
covering. 

With  my  wideawake  and  the  book 
of  my  sketch  in  one  hand  I  was  just 
about  to  tap  on  the  door  marked  "  Pri- 
vate "  with  the  other,  when  the  Ameri- 
can called  out  politely, 

"  Say,  excuse  me.  I  think  you  '11 
find  Mr.  Joshfeller's  busy  just  now." 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  I  said,  taking  a 
step  in  the  speaker's  direction  and 
realising  that  1  had  committed  some- 
thing approaching  a  breach  of  etiquette. 
"  How  thoughtless  of  me,"  I  went  on, 
setting  out  to  be  friendly.  "  Of  course, 
all  you  ladies  and  gentlemen  arc  also 
waiting  for  an  interview." 

"  Waal,  he 's  naat  an  easy  man  to 
see,"  replied  the  American.  "  I  should 
say  a  variety  agent  is  soir.ethin'  like 
your  Aarchbishop  of  CANTERBURY  to 
git  right  hold  of." 

"  Er— yes.  With  regard  to  the  ARCH- 
BISHOP," I  said,  "  I  have  never  had  the 
pleasure.  But  I  've.  no  doubt  it 's  an 
apt  comparison.  Perhaps  you  could 
tell  me  if  they  deal  in  sketches  here  ?  " 

"  I  could  naat.  Sketches  are  naat  in 
my  line.  .I'm  a  comedian.  But  see 
here.  What  is  this  sketch  you  've 
gaat  ?  Is  it  sensational,  cahmedy,  or 
what?" 

"  Oh,  itr'g — it 's  a  problem  sketch." 

"  Is  ut  fuhny  ?  "  asked  the  Irishman. 

"  Oh,  no.  Quite  serious,"  I  said. 
Here  was  an  opportunity  of  gaining'an 
unbiassed  opinion,  and,  encouraged/ by 
their  interest,  I  showed  them  the  script' 
and  related  the  story  in  a  few  words. ' 

"  Sir,"  said  the  American,  when  I  had 
finished,  "  that  show  would  cause  a  riot 
on  a  cannibal  island.'.' 

"  Ye  '11  be  afther  wantin'  a  fortune 
for  nt  ?  "  asked  the  Irishman. 

"  Oh,  no.  Quite  a  modest  sum  would 
content  me,"  I  said.  "  But  I  'm  very 
gratified  to  think  you  like  the  idea." 

"  I  'm  thinkin'  ut  '11  revolutionise  the 
music-halls,"  said  .the  Irishman.  "Ye '11 
want  to  use  great  caution  the  way  ye 
dispose  of  ut.". 

"Yes,  Sir!"  added  the  American. 
"  And  listen  bete.  I  caan't  let  a  man 
of  your  cloth  rush  into  vaudeville 
!  without  a  woird  of  preparation,  and 
without  tellin'  you  that  there 's  some 
store  of  disillusionment  waitin'  for  any 
stranger.  A1J  around  you  '11  find  things 
are  unreal.  You'll  see  Hindoos  that 
are' white  men,"Chinese  that  are  Yanks, 
comedians  that  caan't  make  you  laaf, 
and  angelic-lookin'  women  that  are 
naat.  For  instance,  if  you  've  weighed 
me  up  at  all  you  guess  I  'm  Amurrican. 
Sir,  you  think  I'm  a  genuine  Yank. 
Waal,  I  'm  naat.  I  was  born  in  Brixton, 
and  never  been  out  o'  this  country.  But 
I  know  what  pays.  Now  you  caan't 


tell  mo  you  ain't  shocked  at  that.  Is 
it  not  deception ?  Do  you,  as  a  cloirgv- 
man,  think  it's  right V  " 

"  The  question  you  put  me  is  a  ilii'li- 
cult  one,"  I  answered  after  a  moment's 
thought.  "  I  have  come  here  to  find 
an  opening  for  my  sketch,  and  I  realise 
that  if  I  join  the  ranks  of  your  pro- 
fession I  must  conform  to  its  custom*. 
On  the  whole,  I  am  inclined  to  take  a 
rather  broad-minded  view.  Perhaps  if 
I  myself  were  in  any  way  .connected 
with  the  Church-  but,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  I  'm  not."  ; 

The  Brixton- American  hurst  into  a 
roar  of  laughter  at  this  statement. 
The  Irishman  merely  smiled  <i  peculiar 
smile  and  nodded  his  head.  '  I  some- 
how felt  very  elated.  It  was  as  if  I  had 
already  proved  my  worth  in  another 
sphere.  The  only  tiny  midge  in  my 
ointment  was  the  thought  that  the 
Brixton-American  combination  rather 
tended  to  detract  from  the  originality 
of  my  own  enterprise. 

"  You  see,"  1  went  on,  trying  to 
speak  with  indifference,  "if  a  real. 
parson  can  do  this  kind  of  .thing,  and1 
cause  a  public  sensation  with  the  help 
of  his  clerical  position,  there  seems  to 
be  no  reason  why  a  bogus  one  should 
fail.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  the 
sight  of  a  clergyman  will  considerably 
impress  a  man  of  the, variety  agent 
type.  Now  don't  you;  as.  music-hall 
artistes,  consider  my  idea  rather  in- 
genious? Don't  you  think  that,  com- 
pared with  the  ordinary  ruse,  it  .savours 
of  originality?" 

"Oh,  say,  P  think  it 's  ctite,"  said' the 
Brixton-American,  and  laughed  again.' 

"  Shpeakin'  for  ineself,"  remarked  the: 
Irishman,  the  lines  about  his  jnouth: 
hardening  :in  a  quite  unaccountable 
manner,  "  I  '11  admit  that  yer  cunningj 
does  not  appeal  to  me.  There's  de-j 
ception  ami  deception.  And  ut 's  thej 
public,  and  not  the  agents,  that  ye'vo! 
got  to  deceive.  Maybe  if  I  was  a| 
music-hall  artiste — but  I  'in  not.  I  'mi 
an  agent.  Me  name's-  Silas  K.  Josh-1 
feller."  .  . 

"Really?"  I  said.  "I  hope  you, 
will  forgive  my  unfortunate  intentions' 
towards  yourself." 

"Ach!  Your  intintions  and  my 
idinthity  don't  matt  her.  at  all  at  all. 
Ut 's  your  claim  to  one  shpark  of 
originality  that  dhrives  me  shtark  ravin' 
mad.  Yon  and  your  rotten  whiskered 
sketch  and  your  pantomime  parson 
make-up.  Originality,  begorra !  Why, 
you  're  the  tenth  sham  priest  that 's 
aftlier  comin'  up  hero  wid  sketches  the 
last  month." 


The  Surprise  of  the  Week. 
"  There  is  no  prospect  of  any  change  in  the 
changeable  weather." — Mancliester  Courier. 


PUNCH,   OK  T1IE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.- DWK.MHKR  ]0,  1913. 


THE    TRIBUTE    OF    ENVY. 

MADAME  LA  REPUBLIQUE  (singing).  "  J  'AI    FAIT    SAUTER    MON    MINISTERS." 
MB.  BONAB  LAW  (to  Lord  LAXSDOWXE).  "  ADMIRABLE  WOMAN  I    THEY  ORDER  THESE  THINGS 
BETTER    IN    FRANCE." 


DECEMBER  10.  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


483 


"WHAT  D'VOU   MEAN   BY   MAKING   ME   SLACK   UP?      YOU   NEEDN'T  GET  FUSK7  ABOUT  AN  OLD  HOUSE  LIKE   THAI   SIIV1SG  I  " 

"  MAYBE,  Sin,  BUT  HE  's  A  BIT  SHAKY  ON  THE  LEGS  AND  I  HAD  TO  THINK  OP  THB  DRAUGHT  I  " 


CHRISTMAS    GIFTS. 
WHY  not   make  life  a  little 

easier  for  your  friends? 
Why  not  rub  off  the  corners  ? 
And  smooth  out  the  creases? 
THE  BARE  NECESSITY  SUPPLY  ASSO- 
CIATION have  the  honour  to  announce 
their  list  of  Daintiest  Eecencies  for  the 
Yule-Tide  Season.     Last  year  we  had 
the    pleasure   of    introducing    to    our 
patrons  those  three  labour-saving  de- 
vices— now  to  be  found  in  every  home 
— the  CHIPEGO,  the  KEEPOT  and  the 
SLIPON. 

Our  Committee  of  Long-felt-want 
Experts  has  been  at  work  again,  and 
we  now  quote  from  this  year's  cata- 
logue the  following  three  SPECIAL 
DOMESTIC  NOVELTIES  and  AIDS  TO  THE 
ELEGANT  LIFE. 

(Full  catalogue  sent  on  application 
by  special  delivery  van.) 

No.  125463  B.  THE  CHILCUP. 
This  is  a  charming,  indeed  exquisite, 
little  breakfast-table  adjunct  for  those 
in  a  hurry.  A  most  appropriate  Christ- 
mas present  for  business  men  and 
others.  It  is  a  delicate  little  silver 
electric  fan,  which  can  be  clipped  on  to 
the  rim  of  the  coffee-cup,  to  cool  the 
contents.  No  more  gulped  coffee  t  No 
more  missed  trains  1 


No.  09  AAJ.    THE  ASPARAGLOVE. 

It  has  long  been  felt  that  something 
should  be  done  to  facilitate  the  eating 
of  asparagus  in  public.  There  is  noth- 
ing clumsy  about  the  Asparaglove.  It 
only  encloses  the  thumb  and  first  finger, 
and  may  be  left  in  the  finger-bowl  if 
preferred.  Supplied  in  dozens.  A  most 
appropriate  and  topical  Christmas  gift, 
but  must  be  put  aside — along  with 
tennis  shoes  or  parasol — till  the  proper 
season. 

(NoTE. — It  has  been  suggested  to  us 
that  it  might  be  a  little  awkward  for 
the  diner-out  to  come  to  the  table 
wearing  an  Asparaglovo  when  there 
was  no  asparagus  provided.  This  diffi- 
culty can  be  easily  overcome,  however, 
by  hostesses  printing  in  the  corner  of 
invitation  cards  the  one  word  "  Aspara- 
gus." It  should  be  in  veiy  small  type 
and  need  not  obtrude  itself.  N.B. — 
These  cards  can  be  obtained  from  our 
Stationery  Dept.  No.  111111121.) 

No.  545433C  L. 
THE  THERE-AND-BACK  SPOON. 

Beautifully  simple  in  its  operation. 
(May  be  had  in  sets  of  half-a-dozen 
with  monogram.) 

Have  we  not  all  met  with  the  diffi- 
culty of  eating  cherry  and  other  stone 
fruit  with  any  degree  of  elegance  ?  The 
problem  is  now  solved,  thanks  to  the 


secret  chamber  beneath  the  head  of 
the  spoon,  which  is  always  ready  noise- 
lessly to  receive  the  stones  as  they  arc 
rejected. 

Let  us  all  do  something  to  brighten 
tho  Home. 
THE  BARE  NECESSITY  SUPPLY  Assoc. 


"  The  '  Eclair  '  says  that  Miss  Paukhurst 
began  to  spoak  in  French,  but  that,  as  shj 
appeared  insufficiently  familiar  with  that 
language,  sho  was  obliged  to  continue  in 
French.  Part  of  tho  audience  protested  and 
others  applauded." — Westminster  Gazette. 

We  should  have  applauded  her  pluck 
while  protesting  against  her  unintelli- 
gibility. 

"  Lord  Henley,  of  Watford  Court,  has  just 
presented  each  of  his  estate  cottagers  with 
10  cwt.  of  coal.  The  gifts  are  keenly  recipro- 
cated."— Northampton  Afercury. 

In  fact  they  have  a  local  proverb  now 
about  carrying  coals  to  Henley,  and  his 
lordship  wishes  it  to  be  understood  that 
his  cellars  are  full. 


"  In  tho  last  Act  she  commits  suicide  by 
throwing  herself  in  front  of  a  locomotive 
engine.  This,  of  course,  is  not  all  that 
happens,  but  it  is  the  maiu  line." 

Fleming  Post. 

On  a  branch  line  you  can't  always  be 
sure  of  getting  an  engine. 


484 


PUNCH,  on  THE  LONDON  CIIAEIVAKI.       [DECEMHKU  10, 191.3. 


THE    SPORTSMAN. 

"  'Mr.  Luinley  to  see  you!  "  said  the 
oflico-boy,  interrupting  my  usual  noon- 
day nap. 

"  Luinley  ?  "  I  said.  "  Lumley  '?  I 
don't  know  anyone  of  that  name. 
What  does  ho  want '.'  " 

"  Says  it's  a  private  mailer,  Sir,  and 
perlickly  asks  lo  have  a  few  words." 
"Oh,  well,  show  him  up." 
For  aught  I  knew  my  visitor  might 
be  the   secret   emissary  of  a  wealthy 
stranger  who  proposed  to  leave  me  an 
immense    fortune.       Such    things    do 
happen,  I  believe,  at  any  rate  in  books. 

1  hurriedly  arranged  some  important-  detested,"  I 
looking  documents  on , — 
my  writing-table,  and 
had  successfully  assumed 
the  attitude  of  a  man 
immersed  in  affairs, 
whose  valuable  time  was 
not  lightly  to  be  en- 
croached upon,  when  Mr. 
Lumley  was  announced. 
"  I  trust  I  'm  not 
intruding,  Mr.  Biffin,"  he 
began,  "but  your  name 
was  given  to  me  by 
Major  Hardaway-Pil- 
.  chard  and  Sir  Edward 
Topping.  I  ventured, 

therefore " 

"  It  was  kind  of  these 

gentlemen,  whoever  they 

may  be,  to  give  you  that 

which    did    not    belong 

to   them,"    I    remarked 

severely,  "  but  I  may  as 

well  say  at    once    that 

'  I     am     totally      unac- 

:  quainted  with  either  of 

them." 

"I  was  talking  to 
Captain  Spindler  only 
I  the  other  day,"  he  con- 
tinued unabashed,  "  and 
he  said  he  was  sure  you  would  be 
interested  in  our  little  scheme." 

"  To  the  best  of  my  belief,"  I  replied, 
"I  have  never  set  eyes  on   Captain 
Spindler.      But  what  is  your    'little 
1  scheme,'  as  you  call  it?  " 

"Sir  Edward  Topping  and  Major 
Haulaway-Pilchard  and,  I  may  add, 
many  other  gentlemen  equally  well 
known  in  sporting  circles,  have  long 
felt  the  want  of  a  volume— a  book  of 
reference— that  should  contain  brief 
biographies  of  persons  who,  like  your- 
self, are  interested  -in  all  matters 
connected  with  sport." 

"  I  am  certainly  interested  in  sport," 

I  began,  "  but  I  must  confess  that " 

Exactly,  Mr.  Biffin  !  Precisely.  And 
ni  this  publication  we  propose  to  devote 
an  entire  page  to  every  one  of  our  leading 
British  sportsmen  who  is  good  enou"li 


to  provide  materials  for  a  biography. ! "  that  I  am  utterly  useless  at  both 
\Vo  thus  hope  to  produce  a  work  of  I  tennis  and  croquet,  while  my  handicap 
absorbing  interest,  the  value  of  which  j  at  golf  is  twenty-four.  Indeed,  until 
will  be  greatly  enhanced  by  photo-  j  last  summer  it  had  always  been  thirty- 
graph  portraits.  I  have  been  com-  J  two." 

ini>-;ionod  to  approach  you  as  one  of  j  "Perhaps  shooting  and  fishin"  niv. 
our  typical 


Beally,  Mr.  Lumley, 
lie  called  typical." 


more  in  your  lino?  " 

can  hardly  i      "  I  gave  up  shooting  twenty  years 

t,  .*i..AUU  UJJL..W....  ago,    because    I    never    hit    anything 

"  If  you  will  kindly  give  me  a  brief  j  except  a  beater,  and  the  only  fishing 
sketch  of  your  sporting  career,  I  shall  I  ever  indulge  in  takes  the  form  of  a 
not  detain  you  long,  I  assure  you."  little  mild  shrimping  during  my  sum- 
He  drew  a  note-book  from  his  pocket,  i  mer  holidays  at  the  sea-side."  I  rose 
"In  early  life,  Mr.  Biffin, "he  continued,  |  to  my 
"you  were,  I  believe,  a  keen  footballer'?"  view  w 


holiday- 
feet  to  intimate  that  the  inter- 
was  at  an  end 


If  there  is  one  game  I  have  always       "  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 

i  _  1    ,1     T 1'T       ,i'i_'l*__il_ll  A    _         .It  T  11  T        •        .  .V 


replied,  "  it  is  football.    As   all   your 


valuable  and  interesting  in- 
formation," said  Mr. 
Lumley  as  he  left  the 
room.  "  You  shall  hear 
from  mo  later." 

Three  months  elapsed 
j  and  I  had  almost  for- 
1  gotten  this  interview 
j  when  I  was  pleasantly 
surprised,  one  bright 
Juno  morning,  by  the 
receipt  of  a  handsomely- 
bound  volume,  entitled 
Leaders  of  British  Spurt, 
containing  a  slip  in- 
scribed, "  With  the  Pub- 
lisher's compliments. 
See  p.  83."  Turning 
hastily  to  the  page  men- 
tioned I  read  the  follow- 
ing notice : — • 

"  BIFFIN,  REGINALD 
DBAKE.  —  Stock-broker ; 
6.  1872;  cduc.  Harrow 
and  Oxford;  n.  of  Sir 
Theodore  Biffin, 
K.C.V.O.;  four  s.  and 
two  cl. ;  owns  three  acres. 
Played  football  regularly 
for  many  years  in  a 
school  eleven,  but  was  not 
—  included  in  the  team  that 

a  boy  I  was,  of  course,  compelled  to  |  represented  Oxford  at  Blackheath  in 
play  it,  but  I  never  developed  the  least  1892.  As  a  cricketer  his  batting  average 
taste  for  it.  When  I  left  my  private  was  remarkable,  and  the  wickets  he 
school  I  was  still  in  the  fourth  eleven,  took  on  the  playing-fields  at  Harrow 

-  game  are  still  remembered.  Is  deeply  inter- 
ested in  polo,  and  though  it  would  be 
unfair  to  compare  him  with  players  of 
the  calibre  of  Mr.  Buckmaster  or  the 
Brothers  Waterbury  he  has  long  been 
a  conspicuous  and  familiar  figure  at 
Ranelagh.  Plays  tennis  and  croquet 
with  equal  skill",  and  if  his  golf-handi- 
cap continues  to  be  reduced  at  "the 
present  rate  should  undoubtedly  become 
a  scratch  player  in  less  than  three  years. 
Has  renounced  shooting  in  favour  of 
the  gentler  art,  and  is  considered  by 
some  to  be  among  the  keenest  and  not 
least  successful  salt-water  fishermen  on 
the  South  Coast  ..." 

I  could  find  nothing  in  all  this  that 


"HOME    RULE    ALL    ROUND." 

(Suggested  design  for  Royal  Standard  under  the  above  arrangement.) 
ENGLAND,  NORTH.     ENGLAND,  MIDLANDS.     ENGLAND,  SOUTH.  •  SCOTLAND 
IRELAND,  SOUTH  AND  WEST.    ULSTER.    WALES.    LONDON. 
LANCASHIRE.    YORKSHIRE.    ISLE  OP  MAN.    ISLE  OP  DOGS. 


and  at  Oxford  I   gave  up  the 

altogether." 

.  "  At  cricket,  no  doubt " 

"  I  was  just  as  poor  a  performer. 
My  batting  average  at  Harrow  never 
reached  double  figures,  and  the  occasions 
on  which  I  bowled  a  wicket  were  rare 
enough  to  be  memorable." 

"Polo,  Mr.  Biffin,  I  am  sure  you — — " 

"  Never, "  I  answered  firmly.  ' '  Though 
as  a  member  of  Eanelagh  I  often  enjoy 
watching  the  inter-regimental  matches, 
I  have  too  great  a  respect  for  my  bones 
to  take  part  in  so  dangerous  a  pastime." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  Mr.  Lumley  ap- 
peared to  be  disappointed. 

"I  may  further  add,"  I  went   on, 


DECEMBER  10,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  485 


3  - 


Conscientious  Window-dresser.  "  MB.   GRAHAM  1      JToraD  YOU  MIND  GIVING  Miss  WILLCDX  A  CAIX,  AND  ASK  HER  TO  KISDLT 

STEP  THIS   WAY   AND   GIVE   ME  THIS   POSE?      I   CAN'T   QUITE  GET  WHAT  I  WANT." 


seemed  to  call  for  criticism.  As  a  brief 
epitome  of  my  various  activities  in  the 
realm  of  sport  it  seemed  to  be  eminently 
truthful  and  satisfactory.  I  read  it 
aloud  to  my  wife  after  luncheon,  and 
she  expressed  herself  no  less  delighted 
than  surprised  by  it. 

"  Oh,  Reginald,"  she  exclaimed  affec- 
tionately, "  why  didn't  you  tell  me  al> 
this  before  ?  I  had  no  idea  you  'd  done 
so  much." 

"  There  are  some  things  one  doesn't 
talk  about,"  I  replied  modestly. 

"  Won't  mother  be  pleased ! "  she 
continued. 

"  1  hope  so.     It  even  occurs  to  me 
that  a  copy  of  this  book  would  make ' 
a  very  suitable  Christmas  present  for 
your  dear  mother,  and  indeed  for  Uncle  j 
Joseph   and   others   of   your   relatives 
who   don't  perhaps  appreciate  me  as 
much  as 

"  Oh,  wouldn't  it  ! "  she  agreed 
enthusiastically.  "  I  hope  you  '11  order 
a  dozen  copies  at  least." 

"  That  is  what  I  propose  to  do.  And 
now,"  I  added,  glancing  at  my  watch, 
"  I  must  be  getting  off  to  Eanelagh." 

An  anxious  expression  crossed  my 
wife's  face.  "  Reginald,"  she  appealed, 


"polo    is    such    a    dangerous    game. 
Promise  me  you  won't  take  any  risks! " 
"  Have  no  fears,  darling,"  I  replied 
with  some  emotion ;  "  I  promise." 


THE  PICTURE-PAPER  TO  ITS  PUBLIC. 

WE,  who  purvey  pictorial  news, 
Profess  the  most  enlightened  views, 
For  we  maintain  that  all  sensation 
Is  ours,  to  share  with  you,  the  nation. 
Down,  therefore,  with  the  social  pest 
Who  hugs  his  horrors  to  his  breast ! 
Down  with  the  vile,  self-centred  man 
Who  keeps  things  private  when  he  can ! 
We  have  our  eye  on  him — we  mark 
All  woes  which  he  would  fain  keep  dark. 
Our  Press  photographer  is  out 
To  put  his  privacy  to  rout. 
For  all  man's  passion,  grief,  distress, 
Are  merely  matter  for  the  Press, 
And  mainly  that  which  craves  omission 
Shall  go  to  feed  our  vast  edition. 

Then,  0  our  Public,  gather  near! 
We  "ve  got  a  tit-bit !     Just  look  here ! 
Here 's  something  over  which  to  gloat — 
The  funeral  of  a  man  of  note. 
We  hope  you  will  not  fail  to  see 
Our  really  painful  Picture  3, 


For  we  have  had  the  luck  to  snap 
The  dead  man's  son  (that  tallish  chap) 
And  favorite  brother  (head  bent  down, 
Confound  him !)  walking  through  the 

town. 

We  got  them,  after  quite  a  hunt, 
At  six  yards'  range  from  close  in  front. 
It  seems  that,  suffering  as  they  were, 
They  shunned  our  Press  photographer. 
They  didn't  wish  their  grief  to  rise 
Before  a  million  pair  of  eyes  ; 
Tried  to  escape  from  our  molesting. 
This  makes  the  snap  more  interesting. 

Here,  then,  they  are:    their  sorrow's 

plain, 

Or  should  be,  to  your  eager  brain. 
Look  at  them  closely ;  thus  you  will 
Not  fail  to  feel  the  authentic  thrill. 
Ah !  ain't  it  sad  to  think  those  men 
Have  lost  their  loved  one  from  their 

ken? 

Could  any  other  human  sight 
Harrow  you  more  than  such  a  plight  ? 
Thanks  to  our  enterprise  you  see 
Their  realistic  misery 
(Behind — see  Picture  1 — the  bier). 
Inset,  we  have  the  mourner's  tear, 
Taken  while  falling.     Overleaf, 
We  chat  about  the  widow's  grief. 


486 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  10,  1913. 


IN  THE  SWIM. 

"Do  you  tango?"  asked  Miss  Hop- 
kins, as  soon  as  we  were  comfortably 
seated.  I  know  her  name  was  Hopkins, 
because  I  bad  her  down  on  my  pro- 
gramme us  1'opkins,  which  seemed  too 
good  to  be  true  ;  and,  in  order  to  give 
her  a  chance  of  reconsidering  it,  I  had 
asked  her  if  she  was  one  of  thePopkinses 
of  Hampshire.  It  had  then  turned  out 
that  she  was  really  one  of  the  Hopkinses 
of  Maidii  Yule. 

"No,"  I  said,  "I  don't."  She  was 
only  the  fifth  person  who  had  asked 
me,  but  then  she  was  only  my  fifth 
partner. 

"  Oli,  'jou  ought  to.  You  must  be 
up-to-date,  you  know." 

"  I  "in  always  a  bit  late  with  these 
things,"  I  explained.  "  The  waltz  came 
to  England  in  1812,  but  1  didn't  really 
master  it  till  1904." 

"  I  'm  afraid  if  you  wait  as  long  as 
that  before  you  master  the  tango  it 
will  be  out." 

"That's  what  I  thought.  By  the 
time  I  learnt  the  tango,  the  bingo 
would  be  in.  My  idea  was  to  learn  the 
bingo  in  advance,  so  as  to  be  ready  for 
it.  Think  how  you  '11  all  envy  me  in 
1917.  Think  how  Society  will  Hock  to 
my  Bingo  Quick  Lunches.  I  shall  be 
the  only  man  in  London  who  bingoes 
properly.  Of  course  by  1918  you  '11  all 
be  at  it." 

"  Then  we  must  have  one  together  in 
1918,"  smiled  Miss  Hopkins. 

"  In  1918,"  I  pointed  out  coldly,  "  I 
shall  be  learning  the  pongo." 

My  next  partner  had  no  name  that  1 
could  discover,  but  a  fund  of  conversa- 
tion. 

"  Do  you  tango  ?  "  she  asked  me  as 
soon  as  we  were  comfortably  seated. 

No,"  I  said,  "I  don't.  But,"  I 
added,  "  I  once  learned  the  minuet." 

"  Oh,  they  're  not  very  much  alike, 
are  they?" 

Not  a  bit.  However,  luckily  that 
doesn't  matter,  because  I  've  forgotten 
all  the  steps  now." 

She  seemed  a  little  puzzled  and  de- 
cided to  change  the  subject. 

"  Are  you  going  to  learn  the  tango  ?  " 
she  asked. 

I  don't  think  so.  It  took  me  four 
nonths  to  learn  the  minuet. 


"  But  they  're  quite  different,  aren't 
they?" 

"  Quite,"  I  agreed. 

As  she  seemed  to  have  exhausted 
herself  for  the  moment,  it  was  obviously 
my  business  to  say  something.  There 
was  only  one  thing  to  say. 

"  Do  you  tango  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  don't." 

"  Are  you  going  to  learn  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  " 


"  Ah  !  "  I  said  ;  and  h've  minutes  later 
we  parted  for  ever. 

The  next  dance  really  was  a  tango, 
and  I  saw  to  my  horror  that  I  had 
a  name  down  for  it.  With  some  diffi- 
culty I  found  the  owner  of  it,  and  pre- 
pared to  explain  to  her  that  unfor- 
tunately I  couldn't  dance  the  tango, 
but  that  for  profound  conversation 
about  it  I  was  undoubtedly  the  man. 
Luckily  she  explained  first. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  do  this,"  she 
apologised.  "  I  'm  so  sorry." 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  said  magnanimously. 
"  Wo  '11  sit  it  out." 

We  found  a  comfortable  seat. 

"  Do  you  tango?  "  she  asked. 

I  was  tired  of  saying  "  No." 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  wouldn't  like  to 
find  somebody  else  to  do  it  with  ?  " 

"  Quite,  thanks.  The  fact  is  1  do  it 
rather  diflerently  from  the  way  they  're 
doing  it  here  to-night.  You  see,  I 
actually  learnt  it  in  the  Argentine." 

She  was  very  much  interested  to  hear 
this. 

"  Really  ?  Are  you  out  there  much  ? 
I  've  got  an  uncle  living  there  now.  I 
wonder  if — 

When  I  say  I  learnt  it  in  the 
Argentine,""  I  explained,  "  I  mean 
that  I  was  actually  taught  it  in  St. 


John's  Wood,  but  that  my  dancing 
mistress  came  from — 

"In  St.  John's  Wood?"  she  said 
eagerly.  "  But  how  funny  !  My  sister 
is  learning  there.  I  wonder  if — 

She  was  a  very  difficult  person  to 
talk  to.  Her  relations  seemed  to  spread 
themselves  all  over  the  place. 

"  Perhaps  that  is  hardly  doing  justice 
to  the  situation,"  I  explained  again. 
"  It  would  be  more  accurate  to  put  it 
like  this.  When  I  decided — by  the  way, 
does  your  family  frequent  Paris  ?  No  ? 
Good.  Well,  when  I  decided  to  learn 
the  tango,  the  fact  that  my  friends 
the  Hopkinses  of  St.  John's  Wood,  or 
rather  Maida'  Vale,  had  already  learnt 

it  in  Paris'  naturally  led  me  to 

I  say,  what  about  an  ice?  It 's  getting 
awfully  hot  in  here." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think " 

"I'll  go  and  get  them,"  I  said 
hastily;  and  I  went  and  took  a  lon<r 


"  Have  you  learnt  the  tango  yet  ?  " 
asked  Norah. 

"Fourteen,"  I  said  aloud. 

"  Help  !  Does  that  mean  that  I  'ra 
the  fourteenth  person  who  has  asked 
you?" 

"  The  night  is  yet  young,  Norah. 
You  are  only  the  eighth.  But  I  was 
betting  that  you  'd  ask  me  before  I 
counted  twenty.  You  lost,  and  you 
owe  me  a  pair  of  ivory-hacked  hair- 
brushes and  a  cigar-cutter." 

"  Bother.  Anyhow,  I  'm  not  going 
to  be  stopped  talking  about  the  tango 
if  I  want  to.  Did  you  know  I  was 
learning?  I  can  do  the  scissors." 

"  Good.  We  '11  do  the  new  Fleet 
Street  movement  together,  the  scissors- 
and-paste.  You  go  into  the  ball-room* 
and  do  the  scissors,  and  I  '11 — er — stick 
here  and  do  the  paste." 

"  Can't  you  really  do  any  of  it  at  all, 
and  aren't  you  going  to  learn  ?  " 

"I  can't  do  any  of  it  at  all,  Norah. 
I  am  not  going  to  learn,  Norah." 

"  It  isn't  so  very  difficult,  you  know. 
I  'd  teach  you  myself  for  tuppence." 

"  Will  you  stop  talking  about  it  for! 
threepence?  "  I  asked,  and  1  took  out: 
three  coppers. 

"No." 

I  sighed  and  put  them  back  again. 


time  getting  them,  and,  as  it  turned  out 
that  she  didn't  want  hers  after  all,  a 
longer  time  eating  them.  When  I  was 
ready  for  conversation  again  the  next 
dance  was  beginning.  With  a  bow  I 
relinquished  her  to  another. 

"Come  along,"  said  a  bright  voice 
behind  me ;  "  this  is  ours." 

"  Hallo,  Norah,  is  that  you  ?  Come 
Ion." 

We  hurried  in,  danced  in  silence,  and 
then  found  ourselves  a  comfortable  seat. 
For  a  moment  neither  of  us  spoke  . 


It  was  the  last  dance  of  the  evening. 
My  hostess,  finding  me  lonely,  had 
dragged  me  up  to  somebody,  and  I  and 
whatever  her  name  was  were  in  the 
I  supper  room  drinking  our  farewell  soup. 
So  far  we  had  said  nothing  to  each' 
other.  I  waited  anxiously  for  her  to 
begin.  Suddenly  she  began. 

"  Have  you  thought  about  Christinas 
presents  yet?  "  she  asked. 

I  nearly  swooned.  With  difficulty  I 
remained  in  an  upright  position.  She 
was  the  first  person  who  had  not  begun' 
by  asking  me  if  I  danced  the  tango  ! 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  said.  "  I  'ni  afraid  I 
didn't — would  you  tell  me  your  name 
again?  " 

I  felt  that  it  ought  to  be  celebrated 
in  some  way.  I  had  some  notion  of 
writing  a  sonnet  to  her. 

"  Hopkins,"  she  said ;  "  I  knew  you  'd 
forgotten  me." 

"  Of  course  I  haven't,"  I  said,  sud- 
denly remembering  her.  The  sonnet 
would  never  be  written  now.  "  We 
had  a  dance  together  before." 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Let  me  see,"  she 
added,  "I  did  ask  you  if  you  danced 
the  tango,  didn't  I  ?  "  A.  A.  M. 


"As  Richard  looked  at  the  girl  her  whole 
throat  and  face  rose  in  one  soft  wave." 

London  Builijft. 

It  would  have  drowned  the  affection  of 
any  man  but  Eichard. 


DECEMBER  10,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


487 


THE    TANGO    IN    THE    BALL-ROOM. 


AS   LETTERS   IN   1HE   PAPERS   FBOM   AMATEUB   SOCIAL   HEFORMEUS   WOCLD   HAVE    US   IMAGINE   IT. 


AND   AS   WE  HAVE  ACTUALLY   SEES    IT. 


488  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  10,  1913. 


Vedette  (on  Irish  manoeuvres).  "WELL,  THEX  MAY  'AVE  THEIB  BLOOJIIH'  'OnK  RULE,  THEIB  WHOLE  BLESSED  COUXTBY 

IO  DBY  IT  IN  FOB  ANYTHINK  I  CASES  I  " 


'ABB1 


THE  ROUND-SHOT  OF  ENGLAND. 

(On  reading  the  news  that  December  llth  is  the  last  day 
for  dispatching  Christinas  puddings  to  Bonmania 
via  Germany.]  j. 

BY  south,  by  north,  from  Thames  to  Forth, 
The  fair  projectile  sails ;     „" 

What  packing  up  of  soundless  bombs 
For  unforgotten  Dicks  and  Toms 
In  far-off  places  of  the  earth",  •• 
From  Leeds,  from  Exeter,  from  Perth 
(And  very  possibly  from- Forth,'*  ' 
Glamorgan  county,  Wales) ! 

They  bring  no  shame  of  shells  that  maim, 
But  only  Christmas  cheer ; 

Charged  with  the  fruitage  of  the  grape, 
With  shrapnel  spice  they  round  the  Cape, 
But  not  the  Horn  (why  not  ?     Aha  1 
That  new  canal  at  Panama) ; 
They  burst  into  a  blue-green  flame 
By  many  an  unknown  pier. 

The  white-winged  gulls  attend  the  hulls 
That  bear  them  to  the  west ; 
The  camels  in  the  Libyan  sand, 
Who  watch  the  old  mirage  expand 
And  feign  belief  with  wondrous  tact, 
Trudge  on  with  these  all  neatly  packed 
In  suitable  receptacles 
And  properly  addressed. 


They  speed ;  and  if  by  texture  stiff 
Or  too  luxuriant  plums 

On  eaters  of  so  godlike  fare 
There  falls'some. aftermath  of  care, 
How  short-lived  that  internal  pain. 
How  fond  the  memories  that  remain. 
Of  home  and  England  !     What  a  whiff 
Of  Piccadilly  comes ! 

.  .  .  ! 

But  most  of  all  I  love  to  call 
Sweet  images  to  mind 

Of  aliens  not  of  English  blood 
Who  hear  the  Saxon  pudding  thud, 
Who  see,  who  crave,  who  taste,  who  smile 
At  this  first  glory  of  our  isle, 
Who  bow  the  knee  at  last,  and  fall 
With  England's  suet  lined. 

So,  fat  and  sweet  with  all  things  meet, 
I  like  to  think  there  ride 

Tremendous  orbs  of  British  duff, 
Fulfilled  with  Orient  fruits  enough, 
On  Teuton  rails  from  Teuton  shores 
To  where  Eoumania  smelt  the  wars, 
That  smoked  about  the  Balkans'  feet 

And  vanquished  Turkey's  pride.  EVOE. 

"MEXICAN  AFFAIRS 
PRESIDENT  WILL  REJECT  AMERICAN  DIAMONDS." 

Natal  Advertiser. 
Bribery,  is  of  little  use  with  your  true  Mexican. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— DECEMBEB  10,   1913. 


AS    MAN    TO    MAN. 


LORD  HALDAKE.  "  ONE    HUNDRED    AND    TENTHLY    AND    LASTLY— Iff    I    MAY    BE    PER- 
MITTED   TO    GET    IN    A    WORD    EDGEWAYS— 

[Fancy  picture  of  Lord  HALDANE'S  ideal  of  a  conference :  that  "  one  on  each  side  .  .  .  should  come _  together  and  talk  with  tha 
unrestrained  freedom  with  which  men  talk  when  they  are  talking  to  each  other  in  private,  as  man  to  man.   ] 


DECKMBEK  10,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


491 


THE   DRUDGE. 

"  GEOHGE,  old  mai),"  said  James, 
drawing  up  his  chair  to  my  end  of  the 
tahle,  after  Christine  had  gone  out  and 
left  us  to  our  male  pursuits,  "  1  \\ant  a 
heart-to-heart  talk  with  you,  old  man." 

I  handed  him  the  decanter  and  pre- 
served a  non-committal  silence.  The 
sudden  prominence  of  the  phrase  "old 
man"  in  his  conversation  led  me  to 
expect  the  worst. 

He  pulled  his  chair  even  closer  and 
stretched  out  an  affectionate  hand 
towards  me.  I  placed  a  cigar  in  it, 
thus  avoiding  what  was  obviously  to 
have  been  a,  long  silent  grip.  "  You 
and  I  have  been  the  best  of  pals,"  ho 
asserted. 

"  Pals !  "  I  said  with  scorn.  "  Nay, 
chums." 

But  he  was  not  to  be  deterred. 
"  When  we  were  boys  together,  we 
fought  often,  hut  we  loved  each  other 
if  boys  ever  did." 

I  gave  him  a  very  searching  look. 
"James,"  I  demanded,  "  is  this  morbid 
gush  the  preface  of  a  jest  or  a  money 
application ;  or  is  it  drink,  or  " — and  a 
horrible  suspicion  came  over  me — •"  is  it 
an  engagement?" 

He  extended  some  more  hands  in  my 
direction.  "  She  is  the  dearest  girl  on 
earth,"  said  he. 

The  deathless  clasp  was  now  inevit- 
table.  "  No  doubt,"  I  said,  clasping 
with  all  appropriate  enthusiasm.  We 
have  known  each  other  for  a  long  time, 
thought  I  to  myself  as  we  held  on,  but 
are  we  all  this  to  each  other  ? 

"  You  must  hear  all  about  her,"  said 
James. 

"  Must  I  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Eeally  ?  "  "  Quite  so,"  and  "  Well, 
I  never!  "  said  I  from  time  to  time. 

I  found  myself  wondering  if  I  was 
like  this  when  I  was  engaged  to  Chris- 
tine .  .  .  whose  birthday,  by -the -by, 
was  on  the  morrow  .  .  .  which  re- 
minded me  that  I  had  promised  her  a 
new  driver  .  .  .  which  made  me  ask 
myself,  "Had  I  ordered  my  own?"  .  .  . 
which  recalled  to  mo  that  I  should 
have  to  get  my  clubs  from  Wimbledon 
in  the  morning  and  that  I  had  pro- 
mised Hartree  to  be  at  Richmond  by 
10.30  .  .  .  This  took  some  arranging 
.  .  .  I  arranged  it  .  .  .  The  best  way 
would  be  to  taxi  to  ...  There  was  a 
sudden  burst  of  silence,  and  I  awoke  to 
find  James  regarding  mo  with  a  cold, 
hurt,  indignant  stare. 

"  You  are  not  interested  a  little  bit," 
said  he. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  I  protested,  "  I 
congratulate  you  with  all  the  sincerity 
of  which  I  am  capable." 


Unfortunate  Pedestrian  (ic/io  lias  been  knocked  down  and  is  a  little  dazed).  "WHERE  AM  I? 
WHERE  AM  I?" 

siny  Hairier.  "  'E«E  Y'ABE,  SIR — MAP  o'  Loxoox,  ONE  PENNY." 


"  Idle  and  meaningless  words,"  said  he. 

"  It  is  my  passionate  belief,"  I  swore, 
"  that  you  have  done  the  best  possible 
thing  for  yourself  in  getting  engaged 
to  ...  Help  me  out  with  the  name." 

James  paid  no  attention  to  me. 

"  At  any  rate,"  I  continued,  "  what- 
ever her  name,  I  stand  here  for 
engagements  in  the  abstract.  Why  ? 
Because  as  often  as  'not  they  lead  to 
marriages.  And  why  do  I  advocate 
marriage  as  an  institution  ?  Because 
it  provides  a  man  with  a  helpmate, 
someone  with  whom  to  share  his 
joys  and  his  sorrows  and  the  joys  and 
the  sorrows  of  his  friends.  My  dear 
fellow,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  your 
news  means  to  me,"  I  added  rising. 
"  But  I  know  who  can,  and  that 's 
Christine." 

Even  so  James  was  all  for  shaking 
my  dust  on"  his  feet. 

"Very  well,"  I  said;  "  but  you  must 
say  good-night  to  her  before  you  go." 


I  pushed  him  into  the  drawing-roo"1 
and  withdrew  before  he  had  finished 
telling  Christine  that  he  really  must  go. 
Two  hours  later  I  came  back  to  tell  him 
myself  that  he  really  must  go.  "  But 
first,"  I  said,  "  you  must  have  something 
to  moisten  your  parched  throat.' 

"  Let  us  drink  your  Audrey's  health," 
said  Christine ;  and  James,  who  was 
now  all  over  himself  again,  insisted 
upon  drinking  also  the  health  of  all  his 
many  friends. 

"  How  many  ?  "  I  asked.  "  About 
fifty  odd  ?  " 

.lames  put  the  number  even  higher. 

"  And  one  by  one  they  '11  get  en- 
gaged? "  I  suggested. 

James  fervently  hoped  they  would. 

"  And  one  by  one  they  '11  insist  upon 
your  hearing  all  about  it  ?  " 

James  went  on  hoping. 

I  yawned  comfortably.  "  Well,  if 
your  Audrey  likes  the  prospect,"  said  1 . 
"  it 's  her  affair,  not  mine." 


492 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON  '  CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  10,  1913. 


STUDIES    OF    REVIEWERS. 

III. — THE    NEW    AHT   CRITIC   ov 

THE    TIMES. 

AMONGST  recent  exhibitors  at  the 
Neo-British  Art  League  there  are  few 
more  arresting  painters  than  Mine. 
Strukla  Brugh,  yet  even  she  has  never 
chosen  a  more  radiantly  intractable 
theme  than  that  of  her  "Pekinese 
J'uppies"  (92).  Her  method  is  flatly 
antipodean  to  that  of  the  Congestion ist 
school  represented  by  M.  Pipposquillace 
in  that  she  doanthromorphizes  her 
scheme  of  pigmentation  into  nodules 
of  aplana'lic  voluminosity. 

It  is  perfectly  obvious  that  by  the 
evaluation    of   the    subliminal    factors 
and  the  substitution  of  rhomboidal  for 
conical  elasmobranchs,  each   bounded 
by  its    own    laminated   penumbra,   a 
sense  of  pragmatic 
serenity  should  result 
as  contrasted  with  the 
stark  jocosity   of    the 
Congestionists.    But  it 
!  is    still   more   obvious 
1  that  if  you  press  this 
i  hypothesis  to  its  logical 
j  extreme  and  introduce 
i  the    whole-tone    scale 
{  of  colour  into  a  poly- 
'  phonic   pattern   where 
only  conjunct  chro- 
matic progressions  are 
available,  the  conflict  of 
the  equal  and  the  un- 
equal   temperament 
resolves  itself  into  a  tes-  i 
situra  so  rarefied  that  j 
the  conscientious  critic 
can  pnly  cope  with  the 
resulting    discord   by 
submerging    himself 
and  his  readers  in  the  profundities  of 
a  polysyllabic   pomposity.     To  put  it 
in   rather  simpler   language,   the    eye 
of  the  observer  must  be  buttressed  by 
the  ability  to  supplement  the  conscious 
recognition  of  the  exact  angle  of  the 
implied  rays  of  light  with  the  definite 
disengaging  of  what  is  typical  of  that 
direction   and   to  be  maintained  in  a 
summary,  and  what  is  accidental  and 
therefore  to  be  deleted. 


71  ill  LfiiiUjd  cn/ii     \ji     U£4V    vi>ii«nnnj     in 

germane  to  so  imperial  a  theme. 

MARCELLUS  THOM  AND  OTHERS. 

Mr.  Marcellus  Thorn  exhibits  a  large 
fresco,  "  Sardine  Fishers  in  the  Adriatic  " 
(99),  executed  in  creosoted  truffle-stick, 
which  is  a  masterpiece  of  suppressed 
yet  dignified  antinomianism.  Wonder- 
ful though  the  drawing  and  the  inter- 
filtration  of  co-ordinating  paraboloids 
are,  it  is  the  psychological  content  of 
the  picture  rather  than  its  direct 
presentative  significance  which  affects 
the  'solar  jilcxus  of  the  enlightened 
onlooker.  The  whole  atmosphere  is 
summarised  and  condensed  in  a  cir- 
cumambient and  oleaginous  aura.  We 
see  no  sardines  anywhere,  but  wo  are 
delicately  subconscious  of  them  trans- 
lated to  their  tins,  and  consecrated  to 


simplification  of  the  dynamic  illusions  i  chromolithographs   which  dedecorate 

the  Christmas  numbers  of  the  earl 
eighties.  Yet  in  her  other  picture 
"Girls  Playing  Rugby  Football"  (82) 
there  is  a  vigorous  economy-of  outline 
a  sort  of  jejune  spirituality  that  recalls 
the  early  work  of  Bomboudiac,  or  per 
haps  rather  of  Etienne  Jaur£guiberry 
Observe  here  the  dramatic  import  o 
the  foreshortening  of  the  left  leg  of  the 
three-quarters  in  the  middle  distance 
The  expression  on  the  features  of  the 
scrummagers  is  admirably  summarised 
but  it  is  a  pity  that  so  much  dynamic 
intensity  should  be  neutralized  by  the 
somewhat  perfunctory  triangulation  o; 
the  'successive  sections  of  the  lineal 
boundaries. 

On  a  lower  plane  of  achievement  we 
may  notice  the  deftly  suggested  interior 
of  Mr.  Snitram's  "  Coal  Shoot  "  (21), 
the  ingenuous  pigment 
of  Miss  Olga  Pupe's 
"Hara-Kiri"  (74),  the 
business-like  '  planning 
of  washes  in  M.  Marge- 
let's  "  Crab-catchers  in 
the  Humber"  (42),  the 
delicious  "Clothes  Line 
in  a  High  Wind  "  (122), 
by  Mme.  do  Tilkins,  and 
the  superb  bravura  of 
Mr.  Nigel  Guggen- 
heimer's  portrait  of 
Mr.  Adrian  Stoop  (14), 
though  we  boggle  a 
little  at  the  false  ap- 
poggiatura,  so  to  speak, 
introduced  by  the  light- 
ing of  the  left  nostril. 
It  is  a  subject  which 
M.  Bombinante  would 
have  treated  with  a 
—  more  poignant  and 

the  gulosity  of  the  sympathetic  gas-  j  intimate  particularity  of  sentiment 
tronome.     To  do  full  justice  to  such  a ' 
picture  is  unhappily  beyond  the   re- 
sources of  the  most  sublime  preciosity.  I 


Pat  (selling  a  young  horse).  «  MIND  MOTY  CABS,  is  IT?    SUBE,  YESTERDAY  ONE 

PASSED  THE    SIZE   OP  A  HOUSE,   AN'   SHE   CHASED   IT  TO   CLONJUEL." 


It    demands    the 


tf>\vap'a  of 


Theopompus  of  Megalocrania,  or  even 
the  intima  desipientia  distilled  in  the 
Atopiad  of  Vesanus  Sanguinolentus. 

THE  ART  OF  Miss  BOLSTER. 
The  successful  employment   of  the 


CLEMENT  CLINGENPEEL. 

(A  Memoir.) 
THE  late  Clement  Clingenpeel  was  a 
life-size  piano-tuner.  He  would  rather 
have  been  anything  else,  but  then  all 
the  Clingenpeels  right  away  back  have 
been  life-size  piano-tuners,  and  it  is  no 
use  grousing  at  destiny.  There  was 
an  old  legendary  couplet  about  the 
Clingenpeels  which  I  have  forgotten, 
though  this  is  the  sense  of  it  :  —  . 


\vi          4.u      r  •  Duuuessuu   empiovment    ot   tne 

When,  therefore    as  in  the  case  of  sophisticated   apparatus   of    the  Con- 

btrulda  Brugh  s  picture,  we  have  gestionist  in  order  to  pervert  or  dis- 

.ime  a  fluorescent  reticulation  of  integrate   the  appearances   of    nature 

itial  sonorities,  a  situation  is  does  not,  of  course,  prove  an  adequate 

developed  winch  m.ght  well  baffle  any  substitute  for  pure  "  JattenuzauS"  to 

fail   in    leonine    suggestiveness    thet  in     he  S  rt  o     M  S8&e°B±t 

fore  -paws   in  prehensile  subjectivity  Of  her  ter  ' 


Chow,  chough,  chuff,  clipping  Clingenpeel  ; 
Oranges  and  lemons  -  " 

This  is  the  bit  I  've  forgotten,  but  it 


ea™ 


"°  Clin8enPeel 
a">'   m°ne>'   save 


r 


10,  1913.] 


PUNCH, 


oil 


of  his  patrons,  OIK;  day  in  out)  year 
commenced  to  destroy  dust,  and  10 
icople  lost  faith  in  it. 

My  Clement     1  call  him  my  Clement 
jocauso  IK;  owed  mo  all  his  prospective.  ' 
income — although  a  loyal  piano-tuner, 
iiad  tried  his  hand    at   several   minor 
pursuits.     Ho  failed  at  them  all,  which  : 
:loc=t   seem   to   bear  out  in  a  way  the  j 
truth  of  that,  superstitious  old  couplet.  I 
All,  I  remember  it  now.     It  goes  : — 

"(•lio\v,r]mu^li,clmif,  clipping  Clingen  peel; 

Orangrs  and  k-in 

Dash  it!  It's  gone  again.  I  know 
perfectly  well  what  the  next  word  is. 
It  rhymes  with  one  of  those  places 
where  QrKKN  KLI/.AHETH  stayed  for 
one  nijdit  only,  and  in  shape  it  is  like 
a  banana.  But  the  actual  word  escapes 
me.  However,  1  will  think  of  it 
presently.  (If  you're  gone,  I'll  send 
it  to  you  on  a  postcard.) 

Well,  Clement  tried  for  one  thing  to  ; 
be  a  dramatist.  He  wrote  a  play  about ' 
throe  generations.  This  was  how  he  : 
mapped  it  out : — 

Act  I.— Pithecanthropus,  400,000  B.C. 
Act  II.' — Anthropus,  1913  A.D. 
Act  III.— Hyperanthropus,  400,000  A.D. 

His  idea  was  to  get  someone  to  do 
Act  I.,  someone  to  do  Act  II.  and  SHAW  : 
to  do  Act  III.,  and  give  them  a  proper-  j 
tion  of  the  royalties.     It  a.11  stopped  at 
the  idea,  however,  and  perhaps  it  was 
as  well. 

Clement  was  in  many  ways  unlucky. 
In  fact  he  used  to  say  to  me,  "Sir,  I 
have  an  unlucky  number."  This  was 
fourteen.  ,  There  may  be  nothing  in  it, 
but  he  died  on  the  21st  (which,  after 
all,  is  f  of  14),  had  seven  children 
(which,  "after  all,  is  i  of  14),  and  was 
exactly  fourteen  months  in  arrear  with 
the  rent.  Fourteen  was  his  unlucky 
break  at  billiards.  He  couldn't  get 
past  it.  He  'd  either  make  fourteen  or 
twenty-eight  (which,  after  all,  is  just 
twice  fourteen)  or  something  a  mere 
trifle  more  or  less.  There  may  be 
nothing  in  it,  of  course,  but  ho  be- 
lieved in  it,  poor  chap,  and  he's  gone 
now.  I  remember  his  saying  to  me 
when  borrowing  money,  "Fourteen 
pounds  will  be  enough,  Sir,  but  it's 
unlucky.  Make  it  fifteen."  I  never 
refused.  For  the  sake  of  one  pound 
why  deny  him  his  whim? 

1  never  knew  such  a  happy  family 
man  as  Clement  Clingenpeel.  Some- 
times he  would  even  speak  to  his  wife 
at  dinner,  and  her  eyes  would  light  up 
with  admiration  and  affection.  When 
he  threw  anything  it  was  never  the 
bootjack.  He  would  amuse  the  children 
for  hours  by  shaking  the  coppers  out 
of  their  money-boxes,  and  on  their 
birthdays  he  would  measure  their  height 
against  the  wall  and  give  them  his 


I  u;t\w  A  LOT  BETTEB'N  YOU  DO 


Pavement  Artist  (an  duty).  "I  CAN'T  BECKON  IT  UP, 
AN'  YET  I  DON'T  GET  'ABF  THK  MOSEY." 

Pavement  Artist  (off  duty).  "\"EB  SUBJICKS  is  ALL  WBONO.    BITS  o'  SALMON  is  OUT  o| 

DATE.      I    DONE   TBEMENJCS    BISNISS    IN    THE    SUMMER    WITH    'OBBS    AN1    Kl'FUd    ISICKd,    AN 

NOW  I  'M  BUNSIN'  BOMB.  WELLS,  GABY  AND  LABKIN,  AN'  THEY  'BK  UOIN'  GOOD." 


blessing.  Of  literature  he  left  little 
behind.  A  few  letters,  terse  and  to  the 
point,  may  be  found  in  the  tiles  of 
Concord:  the  Organ  of  the  Interna- 
tional Association  of  Piano- tuners, 
with  his  signature  appended,  but  save 
in  one  instance  the  subject  is  too  tech- 
nical to  be  of  general  interest.  I  quote  j 
the  exception  : — • 

DEAR  SIR, — This  is  the  twenty-first 
anniversary  of  my  joining  the  I.A.P.T. 
Wishing  you  anil  all  fellow  I.A.P.T.s 
the  best, 

Thanking  you,  yours, 

C.  CLINGENPEEL,  I.A.P.T. 

There  is  something  of  the  man's  fine 
nature  in  that  missive.  It  gladdens 
me  to  think  that  his  departed  spirit 
may  be  aware  of  the  simple  inscription 


on  the  urn  (containing  his  ashes)  that 
stands  on  my  mantelpiece — 

CLINGENPEEL,  CLEMENT,  I.A.P.T. 
1860-1913. 

Many  misunderstood  mortal) 
Leave  to  the  living  their  life. 

Rather  good,  I  think.     Mysterious  and 
melancholy  without  being  maudlin. 

P.S. — The  new  piano-tuner's  name 
is  Henry  Zinnpank.  That 's  the  sort 
of  luck  I  have. 


"Now  for  the  cars.  .  .  .  They  would 
naturally  turn  into  Argyle  Street  at  the  top 
of  Oswald  Street,  and  thus  restore  at  the 
corner  of  Argylo  Street  and  Jamaica  Stivrt 
the  very  congestion  which  they  had  ti 
at  the  corner  of  Jamaica  Street  and  Aryylc 
Street." — Glasgow  News. 

It  seems'hardly  worth  it. 


494 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  10,  1913. 


MR.    PUNCH'S    OWN    INDIAN    POET. 

IT  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Funcli  desires  to  keep  abreas 
cf  all  such  literary  movements  us  may  elevate  humanity  b 
purifying  the  more  obvious  emotions  and  throwing  a  vei 
of  poetry  over  the  expression  of  thought.  It  is  plaii 
that  this  object  cannot  ho  properly  attained  without  th( 
-i.sion  of  at  least  one  highly  qualified  Indian  poet  read} 
at  all  times  to  break  into  verse  (or,  as  some  might  say.'to 
drop  into  poetry)  on  every  subject  that  may  conceivably  be 
(vented  thvmit,'!]  (lie  medium  of  metro.  Such  an  assistati 
Mi:  Punch  has  at  last  secured.  It  is  not  necessary  thai 
this  gentleman's  name  should  bo  divulged.  Mr.  Punch's 
word  is  a  sullieient  guarant:e  both  for  the-  poet's  existence 
and  for  his  unimpeachable  good  faith  in  the  discharga  o:' 
his  p.ietieal  duties.  Moreover,  it  is  not  to  bo  supposec' 
that  Mi:  Punch  would  be  willing  to  pay  the  substantial 
honorarium  to  which  ho  has  commuted  himself  unless 
he  had  previously  satisfied  himself  that  bis  post  was  the 
genuine  article. 

After  much  consideration  Mr.  Punch  has  decided  not 
to  publish  bis  poet's  effusions  in  the  original.  It  is  a 
characteristic  of  true  Indian  poetry  that  it  should  be  ai 
effective  in  a  prose  translation  as  in  its  own  language.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  add  that  Mr.  Punch's  corps  of  trans- 
lators has  all  the  best  Eabindranath  qualiiications,  and 
that  the:r  work  may  be  depended  upon  to  convey  to  English 
readers  all  the  simple  mysticism  and  the  plaintive  out- 
pourings which  distinguish  the  votaries  of  the  Indian  muse. 

In  order  to  prove  that  be  is  not  talking  at  random  or 
attempting  to  mislead  his  readers,  Mr.  Punch  ventures  to 
append  two  specimens  of  his  poet's  work. 

i. 

A  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT. 
The  moon  is  shining  as  moons  have  sometimes  shone 
through  hours  that  would  otherwise  have  been  devoid  of 
light.  O  pale  moon,  what  art  thou  shining  upon  and 
what  becomes  of  thy  beams  when  they  have  completed 
their  work  of  shining  ?  Does  the  quiet  pool  absorb  them  ? 
Nay,  the  pool  sends  them  back  with  renewed  brilliance. 
Does  the  buffalo  in  the  pasture  fill  his  mouth  with  them 
and  use  them  as  a  cud  to  be  chewed  placidly  ?  Not  so, 
for  he  has  grass,  which  for  the  buffalo  is  better  and  more 
palatable  than  moonbeams.  Who  then  is  this  walking 
with  silver  feet  through  the  sleeping  village? 
^  It  is  a  woman,  and  to  her  the  moonlight  is  as  a  home. 
She  has  knees  and  ankles  and  arms— think  of  it,  O  my 
heart :  knees  and  ankles  and  arms.  Silver  bangles  are 
on  her  wrists  and  her  hair  is  dusky  with  the  kisses  of  the 
south  wind. 

She  approaches  and  her  eyes  gaze  into  the  night. 

\\  hat  does  she  see  in  the  night  ?     Does  she  see  my  Fove 

in  the  night  while  I  myself  am  concealed  behind  the 

)  wall  of  my  safe  concealment,  let  me  clin"  to 

thee  while  she  passes. 

O  my  fair  one,  thy  veil  is  as  an  enchantment  and  the 
turn  of  thy  shoulder  breathes  mystery. 

The  moon  has  faded,  and  thou,  too,  hast  vanished  but 
I  will  return  and  sing  thy  praises. 

ii. 

THE  FLOWING  or  THE  RIVER. 

My  beloved  is  poised  upon  the  river-bank  with  a 
ehcate  poising.  Waft  your  favours  to  her,  ye  breezes 
and  make  her  fair  with  all  your  gifts  of  beauty.  If  she 
be  not  beautiful  how  shall  she  be  sung?  But  she  is 
beautiful,  with  one  foot  dipped  in  the  cool  surface  of  the 
water. 


When  the  soul  is  young  it  sings  like  a  bird  in  the  top- 
most branches  of  the  tree.  Sing,  thou  careless  bird,  and 
my  soul  shall  sing  too.  But  my  soul  can  do  more  than 
King.  My  soul  can  fly,  bearing  a  message.  My  soul  can 
fikim  along  the  river  and  can  kiss  the  moist  toes  of  her 
dipped  foot. 

Lo,  she  raises  her  foot,  for  she  lias  felt  the  kiss,  though 
it  was  light  as  the  rustle  of  the  tamarisk.  Canst  thou 
kiss  like  that,  O  hard-beaked  bird? 

The  foregoing  specimens  are,  in  Mi:  Punch's  opinion, 
sufficient  for  his  purpose.  Not  only  will  they  ho  appreciated, 
ho  feels  sure,  by  all  readers  who  have  refused  to  close  their 
minds  to  the  appeal  of  a  poetry  which  is  at  once  sensuous 
and  refined  and  passionate  and  restrained,  and  which,  with- 
out sacrificing  sound  to  sense,  tends  to  raise  those  who  read 
.t  far  above  the  harassing  conventions  of  a  life  lived  in 
;heso  islands ;  they  will  also,  he  has  no  hesitation  in  say- 
ing, bring  conviction  to  the  soul  of  tho  most,  hardened  and 
contemptuous  cynic. 


THE    SHIP'S    KITTEN. 

.T  was  a  barque  that  dropped  down  the  river 
For  tho  Indies  or  the  Isthmus,  and  it  rained  a  bit  and  blew; 

She  had  a  cargo  of  deals  to  deliver 

And  the  Tower  Bridge  was  lifted  to  let  her  go  through  ; 
"  Hoo-oo,"  said  the  syrens,  "  hoo-oo  "  and  "  hoo-oo," 
"  The  Ark  she  got  her  anchor  up  when  early  fell  tho  dew  "; 
But  the  little  ship's  kitten  it  staited  to  mew  1 

When  they  got  to  tho  Bay  the  cook's  bell  tinkled, 
Though  the  big  seas  they  tumbled  and  the  big  seas  they 

rolled, 

Vnd  through  the  rain  squalls  a  lone  beam  twinkled, 
Flashing  and  wheeling  at  night-time  to  behold. 
"  Ser-irosJi,"  said  the  great  seas  so  black  and  so  bold, 
"The  Ark  made  heavy  weather  we  have  always  heard  it 

told"; 
And  the  little  ship's  kitten  it  let  its  tea  get  cold  I 

But  when  they  got  to  the  calm  Equator, 

The  sun  was  setting  crimson,  very  hot  and  heathenish, 
ind  the  stars  turned  over,  and  the  moon  graw  greater 

Low  on  the  yard-arm  like  a  big  gold  dish  ; 

"Swish,"  sighed  the  little  seas," ser-ivish"  and  "ser-wish," 

"The  Lord  He  sent  an  olive-branch  to  them  that  did 
languish  " ; 

And  the  little  ship's  kitten  it  caught  a  flying-fish. 

Lnd  when  they  got  back  from  the  Indies  or  tho  Isthmus, 
The  Isthmus  or  the  Indies,  whichever  they  'd  been  at, 
'hey'd  not  seen  the  Thames  since  t'other  side  of  Christinas, 
And  the  Tower  Bridge  rose  end-ways  that  lay  down  so 

flat ; 
"  Hoo-oo,"  said  the  syrens,  "  how  's  that  ?  "  and  "  how  's 

that?" 
"  We  Ve  sailed  the  Flood  a  twelve-month  and  we  're  fain 

for  A  -arat," 
And  the  little  ship's  kitten  had  grown  to  a  cat ! 


'-More  than  2,000  persons  work  in  Somerset  House,  and  not  a  soul 
eeps  on  the  premises." — Daily  Express. 

e  suppose  we  must  accept  this  tardy  vindication  of  the 
overnment  clerk,  but  the  popular  legend  as  to  how  he 
sends  his  time  in  Somerset  House  will  not  easily  be 
llowed  to  die. 


DECKMBEB  10.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR   Til K    l.n.\l»).V    CHAIMVAIM.  *'•>•> 


Small  Daughter  of  Fortune  (as  third  trolley  goes  by).  "I  BEALLY  THINK,  MUMMY,  IT  MUST  BE  SOMEBODY'S  BIBTHUAY." 


THE    WILL. 

Mi1.  Gannaway  was  an  elderly  mer- 
chant who  lived  in  one  of  the  large 
outlying  towns  in  the  South  of  London. 
Let  us  call  it  Troydon.  Every  day  he 
went  up  to  town  by  the  8.43 ;  every 
evening  he  returned  by  the  6.15.  His 
house  was  only  a  few  yards  from  the 
station. 

Mr.  Gannaway  was  an  ordinary  per- 
son in  mast  ways,  but  he  had  a 
peculiarity.  He  could  not  bear  noise, 
and  day  by  day  he  noticed  that  the 
Troydon  railway  men  were  becoming 
noisier.  The  porters  and  inspectors 
banged  the  doors  with  more  abandon 
than  of  old,  the  engine-drivers  let  out 
steam  with  a  more  shattering  roar  and 
whistled  louder  than  they  had  ever 
done,  while  the  shunting  at  night  had 
become  an  outrage. 

Mr.  Gannaway  did  not  want  to  leave 
his  hous3,  nor  was  he  sufficiently 
superior  to  other  people's  laughter  to 
adopt  ear-Haps,  as  HEBBKKT  SPENCEK 
used  to  do,  on  the  platform  and  in  the 
tra'n.  He  therefore,  like  a  wise  man, 
hit  on  a  ruse  .  .  . 

"  Do  you  happen  to  have  seen  to- 
day's Troydon  Gazette  !  "  he  asked  the 


more  talkative  of  the  inspectors  one 
morning. 

"  No,  Sir,"  he  said.  "  I  've  got  it,  but 
I  haven't  had  time.7' 

"There's  a  curious  thing  in  it  that 
ought  to  be  interesting  to  some  of  you 
here,"  said  Mr.  G'annaway,  and  passed 
on. 

The  inspector  took  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity of  searching  the  paper  for  the 
item.  He  found  it  at  last  under  the 
heading 

TROYDON  RESIDENT'S  STRANGE  \\"ILL. 
The  article  ran  thus  : — 

"  A  legal  correspondent,  who  states 
that  he  is  committing  no  breach  of 
etiquette  in  thus  divulging  information 
acquired  professionally,  tells  us  that  he 
has  just  drawn  up  a  very  interesting 
will  for  an  infirm  and  elderly  lady  who 
occupies  rooms  in  a  house  on  the  out- 
lying Eawson  Estate.  So  much  did 
she  once  suffer  from  nerves  due  to 
reckless  noises  made  by  various  forms 
of  workmen— clumsy  railway  porters 
who  bang  doors  that  could  as  easily  be 
shut  quietly,  careless  engine  -  drivers 
who  overdo  their  whistling  and  make 
their  brakes  scream,  and  so  forth — to 
which,  indeed,  she  attributes  her  pool- 


health  in  the  past  years,  that  she  has 
determined  to  devote  some  of  her  great 
wealth  to  an  attsmpt  to  abate  this 
nuisance. 

"  Believing  that  charity  should  begin 
at  home,  she  has  set  apart  a  consider- 
able siim  as  the  nucleus  of  a  fund,  the 
interest  on  which  is  to  be  distributed 
every  Christmas  by  the  station-roaster 
among  the  raihvaymen  of  Troydon  if, 
in  the  opinion  of  six  regular  passengers 
to  be  selected  by  him,  the  improvement 
in  the  noise  nuisance  merits  it.  Other- 
wise the  money  is  to  be  applied  to 
other  purposes  which  she  names. 

"  Since  making  this  will,"  the  article 
ended,  "  we  regret  to  hear  the  lady  was 
taken  worsa  and  now  lies  in  a  pre- 
carious state,  so  that  the  provisions  of  it 
may  too  soon  be  operative." 

'•That's  a  bit  of  all  right,"  said  the 
inspector,  and  passed  the  news  about 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  The  result  was 
that  the  station  gradually  became  a 
much  more  civilised  place  and  Mr.  ] 
Gannaway  has  lost  that  worried  look. 

The  lady  is  still  alive.  Ever}-  effort 
to  find  out  who  she  is  lias  failed;  but 
the  railway  staff  believe  in  her  abso- 
lutely, which  is  more  than  Mr.  Gann- 
away does. 


-196 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DKCEMBEE  10,  1913.^ 


LUCK. 

THOL-  that  hast  baffled  many  an  earnest  thinker, 

Strange  Tower,  whose  wayward  fancies  none  may 

gill 

Tliat  ransl  o'emile  the  great,  or  idly  tinker 
With  trifling  men  in  equal  freakishness, 
Thou  that  dost  one  hour  ban,  another  bless, 

More  dour  than  thunder,  brighter  tlian  the  sun, 

0  l.uek,  O  sovereign  Luck,  thee  to  address 
lias  long  been  my  desire,  mysterious  one, 

And  now,  1  think,  1  see  my  way  to  gel  it  done. 

I  am  not  of  the  narrow  heirs  of  Science 

Who,  with  a  high  contempt  that  nothing  awes, 
Deny  thee  flatly,  in  serene  defiance 

Of  aught  that  reigns  beyond  her  formal  laws  ; 

Wiu>,  when  they  profit  for  no  seeming  cause, 
Ascribe  it  to  their  own  deserts  and  skill, 

Yet,  when  some  looked-for  gift  eludes  their  jaws. 
Turning,  they  mourn  their  luck  with  right  good  will, 
Xor  bless  thee  for  the  good,  but  damn  thee  for  the  ill. 

And  there  be  some  who,  finding  thee  capricious 
Beyond  all  hope,  assume  a  cold  neglect 

Of  thy  dark  forces  which,  if  thou  wert  vicious, 
Would  rouse  thee  probably  to  some  effect. 

1  join  them  not ;  nor  yet  that  wider  sect 
Who,  viewing  thee  in  undisguised  alarm, 

Offer  their  worship  with  an  awed  respect, 
With  strict  observance  due  and  solemn  charm 
"Which,  if  it  does  no  good,  they  hope  will  do  no  harm. 

These  in  their  little  lives  are  ever  flustered 
By  signs  and  portents  sombre  as  the  tomb ; 

They  find  them  in  a  magpie  or  the  mustard  ; 
Upon  their  path  a  ladder  casts  a  gloom 
As  of  a  cypress ;  some  there  are  for  whom 

The  dawn  of  Friday  has  an  evil  eye, 

And  Thirteen  is  a  number  great  with  doom  ; 

There  is  uo  rite  too  strange  for  these  to  ply, 
And  they  might  save  their  time  for  all  they  get  thereby. 

For  I,  that  long  have  sought  thee  in  thy  doings, 
Have  noticed  how  the  wildest  votary  came, 

For  all  the  pious  ardour  of  his  wooings, 
Out  in  the  end  to  pretty  much  the  same 
As  he  that  paid  no  honour  to  thy  name. 

Here  thou  wouldst  frown,  and  haply  there  wouldst  smile, 
And  one  would  lose,  or  win,  his  little  game, 

Till  J,  that  searched  thee  out,  for  quite  a  while 
Had  well-nigh  giv'n  thee  up,  thou  wast  so  volatile. 

Yet  there  is  this  wherein  I  judge  thee  surely. 

For  thou  art  female ;  by  these  very  traits 
Female,  and  therefore  one  may  swear  securely 

Ripe  to  be  wooed,  if  one  could  only  raise 

The  proper  system.     I  for  many  days 
Have  pondered  on  this  matter,  and  I  ween 

That  thou  art  tired  of  too  obsequious  ways, 
And  seekest,  even  as  seeks  a  weary  queen, 
Simply  by  way  of  change,  a  decent  'twist  and  'tween. 

Wherefore  I  step  me  forth  to  woo  thy  favour. 

Withholding  not  thy  fair  and  rightful  due, 
I  do  not  with  crude  flatteries  beslaver 

Thy  sick  and  female  soul,  as  others  do. 

The  rites  that  I  enjoin  are  strict  but  few — 
Enough  to  win  thy  notice,  not  to  pall : 

I  turn  my  coppers  when  the  moon  is  new ; 
No  peacock  plumes  affront  my  sober  hall 
With  their  malignant  eyes :  and  that,  I  think,  is  all. 


Thus,  then,  O  Luck,  to-day  I  lay  before  theo 
An  opportunity  thou  long  hast  lacked 

To  pour  thy  horn  on  one  that  does  not  bore  thea 
Or  hold  thee  light,  and  is,  in  point  of  fact, 
A  worthy  object  for  some  graceful  act. 

I  would  not  specify  the  royal  boon, 

But  leave  it  to  thy  dormant  sense  of  tact ; 

Fame,  Love,  and  Money  make  a  good  Triune ; 
These  would  suffice  at  first ;    and  kindly  send  them  soon. 

DOM-DUM. 

A   FREE    EXCHANGE   OF   VIEW. 

I  ouiiirr  to  say  at  the  start  that  Eobinson  and  I  are  not 
the  leaders  of  our  respective  political  parties,  but  we  share 
with  them  some  of  the  foibles  of  our  common  humanity. 

"  Hadn't  we  better  sit  down  and  talk  this  matter  over 
together,  and  try  to  come  to  some  agreement?"  said 
Kobinson,  as  ho  got  up  and  put  on  his  overcoat. 

"  The  sooner  the  better.,  the  sooner  the  better,"  said  I, 
and  left  the  room  very  hurriedly. 

J  saw  him  again  next  day,  for  our  trams  met  on  the 
Embankment.  I  was  pleased  to  notice  that  he  had  not 
forgotten  his  conciliatory  proposal,  for  just  as  we  passed 
each  other  ho  leaned  over  the  top  and  called  out,  "  When 
shall  we  meet?" — but  unfortunately  he  was  out  of  ear- 
shot while  I  was  still  trying  to  find  the  place  in  my  diary. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon  before  I  came  across  him 
again.  I  was  playing  to  the  13th  hole,  and  as  he  was 
bunkered  at  the  9th  I  cannot  have  been  more  than  50  yards 
away.  "What  about  that  talk?"  I  shouted.  I  saw  the 
sand  fly  vigorously  and  his  mouth  move,  but  I  am  a 
purist  in  these  matters  and  do  not  consider  an  expletive 
as  good  as  an  appointment. 

Later  in  the  evening  he  passed  my  house  in  a  motor. 
I  was  not  there,  but  the  lodgekeeper  told  me  that  he 
had  not  exactly  stopped,  but  "had  slowed  up  like,  and 
thrown  out  his  card."  The  card  had  "  Better  come  and 
see  me "  pencilled  in  one  corner,  and  "  Mind  the  dog " 
in  another. 

So  1  got  out  my  monoplane  on  Sunday  and  flew  across 
his  grounds.  I  lipped  the  lip  four  times  in  succession, 
and  at  the  conclusion  of  a  long  fanciful  flight,  in  which  1 
put  myself  and  the  whole  situation  repeatedly  upside  down, 
I  dropped  an  explosive  on  his  dog-kennel  from  a  distance 
of  1,000  feet.  1  did  not  alight,  for  Eobinson  was  not 
visible,  and  he  would,  of  course,  quickly  understand  that 
I  had  as  good  as  called. 

That  is  how  the  position  stands  at  the  moment;  but 
it  is  something  to  know  that  we  are  alike  in  our  desire  to 
meet,  and  when  we  do  I  am  sure  we  shall  arrange  some- 
thing, for  we  are  sensible  men. 


There  is  to  be  a  dinner  in  Southport  to  some  of  the  local 
boatmen  and  fishermen.  Says  The  Southport  Visiter : — 

"The  dinner  will  be  succeeded  by  a  social.  The  Mayor  hopes  lo 
attend  some  portion  of  the  proceedings.  At  the  close  of  the  gathering, 
Mr.  Jno.  Barrington  has  generously  volunteered  to  convey  the  men 
to  their  homes." 

We  hope  that  in  many  cases  his  services  will  not  be  wanted. 

Remorse. 

"  Confused  by  the  noise  of  traffic  a  cow  that  probably  was  experi- 
encing its  first  taste  of  city  life,  got  mixed  up  with  vehicles  at  Wood- 
ward and  Milwaukee  avenues  yesterday  and  was  struck  by  a  street 
car.  It  was  so  badly  injured  that  Patrolman  Stegmillet  ended  his 
life  with  a  bullet."— Detroit  News. 

Patrolman  STEGMILLEB'B  friends  should  have  assured  him 
that  it  wasn't  his  fault,  and  exhorted  him  to  bear  up. 


DBCBHBBB  10,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR   TIIK   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


407 


-'   .      . 


,  (/<>  enthusiastic  motorist  ichoin  he  has  mounted).  '•  HULLO  !     WHAT  "a  WRONG  ?  " 
l-'ritiul.  "COULDN'T  THROTTLE  HEB  DOWN;   STEERING  GEAR  WOULDN'T  WORK;   MISSED  ONE  OP  THE  PEDALS,  AND  THEN  I  FELL  OCT!" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
STARTING  in  to  read  Wlwi  William  Came  (LANE)  I  sup- 
posed, from  the  title,  that  I  was  about  to  learn  of  the  birth 
of  a  baby-boy,  and  to  study  the  immediate  effect  of  this 
domestic  apparition  upon  a  small  family  circle.  I  forgot 
in  my  haste  that  there  is  only  one  William,  and  he  a'very 
much  alive  Kaiser,  so  that  I  was  more  than  a  little  aston- 
ished \v hen  I  realized  the  identity  of  the  comer  and  the 
national  significance  of  his  coming.  Whatever  views  the 
reader  may  hold  about  the  possible  advent  of  the  Germans 
lie  would  bo  well  advised  to  study  a  most  graphic  though 
humiliating  picture  of  what  life  in  these  islands  would  belike 
if  they  did  come  to  stay.  He  may  remember,  as  I  do,  having 
icad  other  essays  on  this  theme ;  but  usually  the  novelist 
has,  out  of  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  imported  so  much 
exaggeration  and  improbability  as  to  leave  one  comfortable 
in  the  thought  that  the  tale  is  only  told  for  one's  diversion, 
and  that  nobody  for  a  moment  believes  that  the  thing 
can  ever  really  happen.  "SAKi,"  that  is  Mr.  H.  H.  MUNRO, 
does  not  so  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb.  Ruthlessly, 
almost  I  might  say  callously,  he  develops  to  its  logical 
conclusion  and  with  the  most  probable  circumstances  au 
alleged  (and  I  for  my  part  say  accurately  alleged)  tendency 
in  Englishmen  of  all  classes  to-day  to  selfish  indifference; 
showing  how  our  downfall  as  a  ruling  nation,  should  it 
occur,  would  be  more  justly  ascribed  to  this  national 
vice  than  to  the  political  and  industrial  agitator,  whom 
he  regards  as  an  effect  and  not  a  cause  of  our  present 
(and  I  hope  momentary)  decline.  Mr.  MUXRO  is,  in  my 
opinion,  to  be  heartily  congratulated  as  a  novelist  for 


making  a  very  good  tale  of  it ;  he  is  even  more  warmly  to 
be  praised  as  an  Englishman  for  his  individual  effort  to 
stop  the  rot  by  impressing  upon  us  the  proper  and  probable 
destiny  of  any  nation  that  cannot  face  the  expense  and 
fatigue  of  arming  for  war — namely,  degradation  to  the  rank 
of  a  province  peaceful  but  over-taxed,  non-militant  but 
menial. 

To  Mr.  JAMES  STEPHEN'S  anything  is  possible  and  nothing 
is  fore-ordained.  In  his  new  book,  Here  are  Ladies  (M.vc- 
1  MILLAN),  he  plays  with  the  absurdly  settled  convictions  of 
|  men  and  women,  showing  them  to  be  worth  nothing  at  all ; 
he  is  away  before  you  can  catch  him,  and  is  back  again  at 
one's  elbow  with  some  new  story  about  Paradise  or  Hades, 
or  some  fresh  humour  at  the  expense  of  his  fellow-mortals. 
Although  I  consider  "  The  Halfpenny  Bit  "  one  of  the  bc^t 
stories  that  he  lias  ever  written  I  do  not  think  that,  on  the 
whole,  Here  are  Ladies  is  so  satisfying  as  The  Crock  of  Uold 
or  The  Charwoman' &  Daughter.  The  old  man  who  holds 
the  stage  for  the  last  portion  of  these  pages  I  found  frankly 
tiresome,  and  I  dislike  his  implication  that  anything  that  he 
may  happen  to  say  is  good  enough  for  me,  or,  at  any  rate, 
for  Mr.  STEPHENS.  One  tiling,  however,  is  certain.  We 
have  not  had  for  a  very  long  tiuio  a  poet  who  is  so  acutely 
aware  both  of  the  glories  of  heaven  and  the  ugly  oddities  of 
the  side-streets  in  Dublin  as  the  author  of  Here  are  Ladies. 
Policemen  and  landladies,  middle-aged  women  and  very 
foolish  young  men  are  as  clear  and  as  interesting  to  him  as 
leprechauns  and  the  angel  Gabriel.  And  many  people,  after 
reading  this  book,  will  question  apprehensively  the  solidity 
of  their  furniture  and  the  shape  and  colour  of  their  own 
familiar  street. 


4'JS 


PUNCH,    Oil   TIIK   LONDON   t'HAIM  VA11I. 


[DECEMBEB  10,  1913. 


In  clays  when  wo  hear  almost  loo  much  both  in  fact  anil :  I  trust  that  she  will  deign  to  become  a  woodwoman,  for  ! 
fiction  about  tlio  dreamy  idealism  of  dwellers  in  tin-  sister   really  cannot  bear  to  think  of  Joe  in  a  tail-coat  and  spats, 
isle  it  is  refreshing,  if  rather  surprising,  to  come  across  the 


old  Irishman  whom  TIIACKKKAV  with  his  crude  Victorian 


Ho\v  often  one  has  heard  it  said,  "  What  a  pity  doctors 


pen  held  up  to  Saxon  scorn.  Fearlessly  anachronistic,  Mr.  can't  toll  all  the  stories  that  they  must  know!"  Well,  aftei 
TOM  GALLON  lias  not  only  made  the  principal  figure  in  reading  The  Indiscretions  of  Dr.  Carstairs  (HEINEMANN) 
Young  Ere  and  ()!tl  Ailiim  ( 1 ,0x0)  a  handsome  soft-spoken  '  all  \  have  to  reply  to  this  is,  "  Thank  goodness  they  can't!' 
and  utterly  good-for-nothing  Irish  ollicer,  but,  planting  him  It  is  not  so  much  that  I  object  to  the  indiscretion  of  the 
in  the  present  year  of  grace,  lias  even  daro;l  to  name  him  fourteen  tales  that  make  up  this  volume;  it  is  their  medica 
Barry  Roggttt.  Almost  the  least  of  this  adventurer's  sins  '  atmosphere  that  puts  mo  otT.  The  author,  who  elects  to  be 
('perhaps,  on  the  whole,  it  may  he  called  his  redeeming  known  as  "  A.  DE  O.,"  can  certainly  claim  to  have  broughi 
virtue)  was  his  early  desertion  of  his  wife.  After  her  death  i  the  scent  of  the  drug  store  and  the  operating  theatre  into 
and  that  of  an  aunt,  who  subsequently  had  charge  of  their  j  the  pages  of  bis  book  more  pungently  than  in  any  other  ] 
daughter  Molly,  the  girl  comes  to  live  with  her  dear  papa  j  know.  The  result  therefore  can  hardly  fail  to  be  a  little 
and  overlook,  if  not  actively  abet,  his  life  of  card-sharping  depressing.  I  was  the  more  sad  that  Dr.  Carstairs  shoulc 
and  spoof.  She  draws  the  line  when  he  attempts  to  sell '  have  left  these  unpleasant  and  not  specially  remarkable 


her  to  one  of  the  pigeons  he 
is  plucking,  but  when  after- 
wards in  a  lit  of  passion  he 
murders  the  unfortunate 
young  man  she  relents  suffi- 
ciently to  back  in  open  court 
his  plea  of  the  unwritten  law. 
So  there  is  plenty  of  excite- 
ment, you  see,  in  Mr.  TOM 
GALLON'S  book,  and  as  it  is 
racy  and  goes  with  a  rare 
good  swing  it  keeps  the 
reader  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment that  renders  probability 
a  matter  of  no  great  concern. 
Only  at  the  title  I  cavil  a 
little.  Whatever  may  be 
said  about  Molly's  name, "it 
surely  is  an  insult  to  our  first 
father  to  compare  him  with 
Captain  Ba  rry  liar/get  t ,  w  h  ose 
part  in  the  drama  of  Eden 
is  that  of  the  parent  of  lies, 
and,  in  his  gushing  enthu- 
siastic Irish  way,  he  over- 
plays it  a  lot. 


When  I  begin  a  new  volume 
of  detective  stories,  I  am  still 
hopeful  that  the  author  will 
leaven  the  lump  by  giving  one 
tale  in  which  the  hero  will  be 


A  CHAMPION  BY-LAW  BREAKER. 

SlCDV  OF  A  MAX  WHO  DISKEGABDS  ALL  THBEE  RULES  AT  ONCE. 


anecdotes  to  his  literary 
executor,  because  the  sketch 
of  the  doctor  himself,  as 
given  in  the  opening  chapter 
(by  a  long  way  the  best  in 
the  book),  is  such  as  to  pre- 
pare me  for  worthier  things. 
So  it  was  disappointing  to 
find  him  indulging  in  the 
kind  of  plots  suitable  to  our 
less  expensive  magazines, 
about  disguised  princessei 
and  the  like.  Of  a  different 
type  is  one  of  the  stones, 
ca'led  cheerfully  "  Death  in  a 
Chokea  Lodging."  There  is 
pathos  and  considerable  un- 
forced power  in  the  telling 
of  this.  But  by  so  much  the 
more  do  I  protest  against  it 
as  a  record  of  disease  and 
pain.  In  real  life  the  effect 
of  such  an  experience  might 
well  be  cleansing  and  good ; 
but  in  iiction .  After  per- 
using the  symptoms  of  Alec 
MajoribanJcs  I  declare  I  was 
tempted  to  turn  for  relief  to 
those  columns  of  the  popular 
press  that  are  devoted  to  the 
advertisements  of  proprietary 
remedies.  The  same  details 


f_,vi        j  i   u  fa   -i  ---  -,  ,  -  remedies.     J.ne  same  details 

Isqnardybaffled.and  hat  the  character  whom  I  am  j  are  there,  but  there  is  the  pleasing  difference  that  the 
K™  t£ref  "IS3  a"  ^  W'H  "o0t  be  a  s"Per-ass-  And  now  characters  always  recover.  I  hope  the  next  indiscretions 
PnSr  nlJf  l(m,TEB  AfXD  S^«HTON),  Mr.  HESKETH  that  "A.  DE  O."  may  be  tempted  to  communicate  will 

:   hk  hn/r      T    i     1  T  °nmy  ^Tf  by  ^  quite  kind  ' 

butt.      Indeed,  Mr.  Quantch  has  been  given  both 

brains  and  money,  and  ha?  even  been  allowed  to  tell  the 
stones.  Butts,  I  fancy,  are  looking  up  in  this  class  of 
liter  "  Novembe  r  Joe,"  the  publishers  tell  mp  "i«Hin 

mS 


°CCUl'  ia  SOme  more 


atmosphere. 


s 
his  exploits  is  not  the  crowded  haunts  of  civiliza- 

;ion,  but  the  vast  forests  of  Canada."  The  latter  statement 
may  be  accepted  as  correct,  but  the  former  betrays  a  note 

f  pardonable  prejudice,  for,  although   the  tales   of   this 

elective  of  the  woods  gain  freshness  from  their  settin" 
they  are  in  essence  not  extraordinarily  original.  Where 

•Ir.  PRICHABD  has  really  scored  a  big  point  is  in  making 
icker  a  most  magnetic  personality,  so  magnetic  in 

tct  that  my  mischievous  desire  to  see  him  beaten  gradually 
vanished.  In  the  last  story  a  charming  heiress  falls  in  love 


"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage, 


claret : 


me  cf  his 
doubtful  Cape 


Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 
That  for  :  ;.  ;snn,  h  ;gyji  v3slmspn-c." 
Johannesburg  Illustrated 

It  must  have  been  yen-  doubtful  claret. 


"Messrs. and   Son,  who  have   a  business  as  coal  factors, 

lightermen,  etc.,  in  which  nearly  £3,000,000  is  employed,  have 
decided— the  approval  of  the  shareholders  being  given  on  Thursday— i 
to  start  a  scheme  giving  the  employers  an  interest  in  the  welfare  cf 
the  Company." — Tiirkenhead  News. 


s 


to  happen   of  the  employees! 


interest 


DI'CKMBEB  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


4G9 


CHARIVARIA. 

The  Nalion — the  paper,  not,  tlio  other 
— is  glad  to  hear  that  Micro  is  to 

bo  a  gnat  Anti-Armamenta  deinonsU-a- 

tion  ill  London  during  Mir  cully  winter. 
Nothing,  however,  is  said  ;is  to  MX 
puign  of  tlio  Society  for  Mm  Al>olition 
of  the  1'olico.      Wo  regret  this,  for  tlio 
two  movements  should  work  together. 
*  * 

:'-. 

The  result  of  last  week's  Great  I'ighl 
is  now  said  to  have  been  duo 
to  French  politeness.     "  Why 
stund  ?  "  said  CAIU'HNTIEII  to 
W  KI.I.S.    "  Pray  he  seated." 


Mr.  REDMOND  has  vetoed 
the  proposal  to  present  him 
with  a  national  tribute.  We 
cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
Irish  leader  carries  his 
modesty  too  far.  He  has,  for 
instance,  in  spite  of  his 
enormous  influence,  refused 
to  put  himself  forward  and 
try  to  end  the  Dublin  strike. 

*  * 
* 

Tho  Surrey  Theatre  has 
produced  a  Cockney  rci'tic. 
It  is  called  /  should  say  so. 
We  welcome  this  step  in  the 
direction  of  greater  purity  of 
pronunciation.  Most  Cock- 
neys say  "  sow." 

"  Mother,"  asked  the  post- 
man's child,  "  if  there  is  a 
postman's  strike,  will  Christ- 
mas have  to  be  postponed?  " 

•I*    •'>'• 

Thoughtful  persons  are  at 
a  loss  to  account  for  the 
apparent  popularity  of  the 
Tango.  We  fancy,  however, 
that  we  can  understand  the 
inner  meaning  of  the  Tango 
supper  at  certain  restaurants. 
The  dance  takes  your  atten- 
tion off  the  food. 


that  a  committee  of  the  Imperial  Motor  wider,-,  's  accepting  a  dinner  engagement 
port  Council  is  investigating  the  lone  month  after  tin-  loss  cf  her  hus- 
possibilitios  of  alcohol  as  a  fuel  for  hand.  At  the  samr  timo  it,  is  only  fail- 
motors.  What  will  happen  when  their!  to  her  to  stale  that.  ^Im  l:r-.t  a  .cerl  allied 
throttles  arc  open  wo  do  not  caro  to  from  her  h-  !  it  would  he  a.  very 

contemplate.  dull  afl'air. 


A  Bill  for  tlio  compulsory  taking  of 
babies'  finger-prints  within  three  days 


"MUs  Miuion  Kdwurds  wore  a  cos- 
tume  mado    of    furniture    in    the    new 


after    birth    is    to    bo    laid    before    the    recur,  at  the  (iriind  Theatre,  Claphujja 
Washington  Legislature  by  the  Chief   Junction."    Tin  •  fancy,  nothing 

of  the  Bureau  of  Identification  of  the .  new  in  this  idea.     Wo  have  frequently 

met    ladies    who   had    • 
appearance   of    having   boon 
upholstered. 


Instructor.  "KEEP  voun  EYES  MOHE  OPES  FKB  'LEFTS' 


PIIACTJSE   FEISITX'   A   BIT   MOBE." 


The  scathing  remark 
which  we  made  last  week  in  this 
column  on  the  subject  of  LEONARDO'S 
" Monna  Lisa"  seems  to  have  borne 
rapid  fruit.  We  understand  that  the 
prodigal  will  shortly  return  from  her 
deplorable  escapade  and  bo  restored  to 
home  and  honest  society. 

*       !|C 

A  journalist  lias  been  bemoaning,  in 
the  pages  of  a  contemporary,  the  fact 
that  our  poets  have  ceased  to  wear  long 
hair.  Our  modern  bards  certainly  seem 
shy  of  identification.  In  many  cases 
one  would  not  even  guess  from  their 

writings  that  they  were  poets. 
*  * 

4 

Nervous  pedestrians  hear  with  alarm 


*  * 


Largo  waists  high  up  under 
tlio  armpits  are  a  feature  of 
the  newest  Paris  fashions, 
and  an  amalgamation  of  tho 
waist  and  the  neck  is  thought 
to  bo  impending  in  the  near 
future. 


Spokane  Police  Department.  It  has 
been  discovered  that  all  tho  most 
notorious  criminals  started  life  as 
babies.  *  * 

*'! 

Moreover,  many  infants,  it  may  not 
be  generally  known,  become  desperate 
characters  at  a  very  early  age.  More 
than  once  recently  we  have  come  across 
in  our  newspaper  the  headline 

"ABANDONED   BABY." 

*  §  * 

Mourning,  we  are  told,  is  no  longer 
fashionable,  and  even  three  months' 
abstention  from  "  going  out "  after  a 
bereavement  is  considered  excessive. 
Indeed,  we  know  an  instance  of  a 


A  TRYST  IN  A  TEA-CUP. 

["  China  Dcpt. — Tho  Old  Kng- 
lUh  Violet  Pattern  .  .  .  breathing 
as  it  docs  of  \voodsandcopse*,  has 
a  singularly  chaste  and  nrti.sl.io 
effect  and  appeals  strongly  to  all 
British  residents  over  tho  sen." 
Christmas  Calaloyne.] 

ONCE  they  were  just  a  china 

set 
Adorned  with  modest 

purple  flowers, 
Tho   neatest  that   my  clerk 

could  get 

.  To  meet  the  need  of  office 
hours ; 

But  now  (see  catalogue)  I  find. 
Though   they    have  dwelt 

with  mo  a  year, 
Such  is  the  smallness  of  my 

mind 

That  I  have  missed  their 
message  clear. 


They  should  have  breathed. 

no,  not  of  tea, 
But  of   a    little    fragrant 

wood 

Where  Maud  picked  violets  with  me 
When  we  were  young  and  life  was 
good. 

Is  this  a  tea -cup?     No,  my  soul, 
This  is  a  copse  that  once  I  knew. 

Is  this  a  plate  and  this  a  bowl  ? 

Nay,  these  are  posies  wet  with  dew. 

Ah,  Maud!  you  choose  in  foreign  climes 
Far  from  my  humble  sphere  to  roam, 

Nor,  though  I  mail  impassioned  rhymes. 
Will  you  return  to  share  my  home. 

But  Christmas  comes ;  I  '11  try  my  fate 
Once  more,  and  send  you  ovar-sea 

My  heart,  marked  "  Fragile,"  in  a  crate 
Of  this  wild  woodsy  crockery. 


500 


PUNCH, 


OR 


THE  LONDON   CHAlllVAKT. 


[DECEMBER  17,  1913. 


A   VISION    OF    IRELAND'S 
ARMAGEDDON. 

THE  armies  mot  just  outside  Dublin. 
Tho  Orange-  Army   drew   itself   up   on 
one  side  —  the    Green    Army    on    the 
other,  whilst  the  O'Brionite  Army  split 
itself  into  two  sections  so  as  to  lie  able 
to  take  eilli.T  army  in  Hank.     Aureal 

"  To  give  my  fellow-Irishmen  to  the 
sword  is  a  painful  thing." 
"I  hate  to  encrimson  the  green  sods 
of  old  Ireland." 
"  But  the  reporters  are  all  waiting." 
"They  are.     REDMOND,  promise  me 
one  thing.     You  will  vow  not  to  spare 
the  Press  in  the  coming  conflict  ?" 
"No  mercy.     GABVIN   has  seen  his 

cinematog 
the   top    f 
helmet  as 
ditch    to   s 
going  on. 
Armagc 

AN  AVEN 

\Viin   rn 

i  operators,  and  slicing 
from  Mr.  ARNOLD  WHITE'S 
ho  protruded  it  from  the  last 
see  how  the  bloodshed  was 


of  the  Political  Purity  Army.  General 
HKI.I.IH:  turned  to  it  and  said, 
••  GiLiiKRT  and  CECIL,  there  has  been 
no  such  day  sineo  I  led  the  guns  at 
Gravi-lotte." 

In  the  forefront  of  the  Orange  Army 
rodo  Colonel  I!O\VI.\ND  HrNT  in  a 
moior  car  with  scythe-blades  fixed  to 
its  wheels.  Beside  him  stood  the  in- 
spiring figure  of  the  Duke  of  NORFOLK, 
hearing  a  huge  Orange  banner,  which 
he  waved  defiantly  at  Colonel  the  Eev. 
SILVESTER  HORXK  of  the  Green  Army, 
who  was  brandishing  a  Hag  with  a 
portrait  of  CROMWELL  and  the  legend, 
"  Keep  the  Priest  out  of  the  Schools." 
Colonel  GARVIN  headed  four  Orange 
columns  and  ever  and  anon  looked 
dubiously  at  his  command.  "  Three 
columns  more,"  he  murmured,  "  and  we 
should  be  over  the  page."  General "  TAY 
PAY  "  wrote  his  last  sketch  on  the  top 
of  a  niaxim.  "  If  I  should  fall,"  he 
whispered  to  General  DEVLIN,  "  write 
me  as  one  who  soaped  his 'fellow-men." 

Marshal  OAHSON  viewed  the  opposing 
legions  with  6alm,  even  when  ho  tore 
open  a  telegram  and  read,  ".Will  try  to 
be  in  time  for  battle,  but  must  get 
lawn  tennis  match  with  Duke  of 
MARLBOROUOH  over  first. — F.  E.  HMITH, 
General."  Marshal  CARSON  sparred 
his  horse  forward,  and  NAPOLEON  RED- 
MOND  rode  forth  to  meet  him. : 

"  Blood !  "  said  Marshal  CARSON. 

"  Gore!  "  replied  the  Irish  Napoleon. 

"  No  compromise !"  cried  the  Marshal. 

"  Victory  or  death  !  "  came  the  stern 
reply. 

"  How  few  of  these  will  see  another 
day,"  said  the  Marshal  sadly. 

"Alas,  that  it  cannot  bo  settled  by 
single  combat,"  returned  NAPOLEON 
REDMOND.  "Why  should  Irish  blood 
be  shed  ?  Cannot  '  TAY  PAY  '  and 
GABVIN,  both  practically  Saxons,  tight 
it  out  together?  " 

"  We  are  here  to  shed  blood,  not  ink," 
said  the  Marshal. 

NAPOLEON  REDMOND  drew  himself  up. 
"  Then  we  must  march  over  your  dead 
bodies  to  Belfast." 

"  Nay,  we  shall  march  through  a  sea 
of  blood  to  Cork." 

"  I  am  about  to  give  orders  to  begin," 
said  NAPOLEON. 

"  In  another  moment  I  shall  draw  my 
sword  and  throw  away  the  scabbard," 
came  the  reply. 


"  I  will  cut 
my  own  hand. 


down  '  TAY  PAY'   with 
But  what  is  this'?  " 


AN  AVENGER  OF  OCR  BOMB4FDIL3. 

forget  that  black  Tuesday 
when,  the  appetite  of  England  was 
missing  from  the  breakfast  tables  of 


Another  motor-car  darted   into   the   our  fair  land,  when  every  head  in  Fleet 

Street  was  bowed  in  shame,  and  mem- 
bers   of    the    Stock    Exchange    went 


arena. 

"  'Tis  the  infamous  BIRHELL,"  gasped 
the  Marshal. 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen,"  wailed  tin; 
IRISH  SECRETARY,  "  one  word,  I  beseech 
you." 

"  No  compromise!"  cried  the  loaders 
simultaneously. 

"  Listen,  listen.  Tho  L.irkinite  Army 
is  besieging  Guinncss's  Brewery." 

"God  save  Ireland!"  gasped  both 
ths  great  captains. 

"CAKSON,"  cried  NAPOLEON  REDMOND, 
falling  on  his  neck, — "  CARSON,  we  must 
save  the  country  together.  Throe 
cheers  for  KING  WILLIAM  and  CROM- 
WELL. Corns,  let  us  address  our  armies. 
Where  arc  the  megaphones?  You  speak 
to  my  army  and  I  will  speak  to  yours." 

"  Baloved  Protestant  brethren,"  cried 
NAPOLEON 'REDMOND,  waving  a  Union 
Jack,  "  in  time  of  peril  all  Irishmen  are 
one.  Guinness's  Brewery  is  in  danger. 
Advance  with  your  fellow-countryman 
and  save  it  from  the  thirsty  foe.  Come, 
my  brave  prentice  lads  of  Derry,  and 
follow  my  flag  to  victory." 

"'Fellow  Irishmen,"  shouted  the 
Marshal,  "  in  the  name  of  the  glorious 
Fenians,  the  loyal  Clan-na-gael,  and 
the  noble  army  of  Ancient  Hibernians, 
follow  the  green  flag  I  wave.  Guinness's 
Brewery  is  in  danger.  Shall  there  be 
nothing  left  to  drink  in  Ireland  but 
Boyne  water?  " 

An  enthusiastic  murmur  ran  through 
both  armies. 

"A  brewery  in  danger,"  roared 
Marshal  BELLOC.  "  Let  my  army  lead 
the  way." 

"In  the  name  of  temperance,  halt!" 
cried  Colonel  the  Rev.  SILVESTER 
HOHNE. 

"Charge, the  Heavy  Brigade!"  roared 
Marshal  BECLOC,  and  the  only  objector 
was  crushed  to  the  earth.  Away 
rushed  the  armies,  fraternising  together, 
interchanging  flags,  all  alike  eager  to 
get  to  Dublin  before  the  besieged  fort- 
ress fell,  or  at  least  immediately  after. 

Colonel  ROWLAND  HUNT  was  the 
solitary  warrior  left  on  the  open  iield. 

"What  would  BOADICEA  do  under 
these  circumstances  ?"  cried  the  Colonel. 


He  answered  his  own  question 
cutting   a   swathe   down   the    line 


of 


about  their  business' weeping  silently? 
Frenchmen  may  now  be  able  to  forget 
Waterloo;  but  it  will  ho  many  a  day 
before  Englishmen  can  efface  from  the 
tablets  of  their  memory  the  awful  name 

of  CAIU'EXTIER. 

Having  larded  the  victor  and  dealt 
suitably  with  ths  vanquished,  it  was  the 
duty  of  the  halfpsnny  papers  to  look 
about  for  another  Englishman  who 
would  enter  the  ring  with  tho  French 
boxer  and  readjust  the  balance  of  power. 
They  looked  in  vain  towards  the  uni- 
versities ;  they  searched  the  army  with 
disappointment;  even  among  the  ranks 
of  our  gallant  sporting  journalists,  who 
so  bravely  said  what  they  thought  of 
Bombardier  WELLS  after  the  fight  was 
over,  not  one  "was  found  worthy  to 
restore  the  glory  of  England.  Again 
they  bowed  their  heads  in  shame ;  and 
if  anybody  had  come  along  with  a 
"  i-oundj-robin  "  to  tho  KAISER,  begging 
him  to(step  across  and  take  over  an 
effete  nation,  the  little  ink  that  was 
left  in  their  pens  might  have  been  at 
his  service. 


pur  part,  we   are   not  without 
In   our    braver   moments    we 


For 
hope. 

raise  oiir  heads  again  and  take  courage. 
There  is  one  sphere  in  which  inquiry 
for  a  suitable  opponent  to  CARPENTIER 
has  not  been  made,  and  that  is  the 
Church.  A  full  day  before  the  calamity 
which  has  darkened  the  life  of  the 
nation  for  the  past  eight  days,  a  gallant 
son  of  the  Church,  none  other  than  the 
Bishop  of  LONDON,  was  issuing  a  sort  of 
challenge  to  any  of  his  audience  of  his 
own  age  to  play  with  him.  CARPENTIER 
has  shown  that  boxing  is  play,  not 
merely  stripling's  play,  but  child's 
play.  What  advantage  the  French  lad 
may  possess  in  years  is  counterbalanced 
by  the  Bishop's  wide  experience  and 
depth  of  learning.  We  suggest  to 
Lord  LONSDALE  that  he  could  do  many 
a  less  interesting  thing  than  persuade 
our  athletic  Bishop  to  go  into  training 
for  the  sake  of  the  dear  old  country ; 
and  to  the  Bishop  we  would  point  out 
the  unique  opportunity  this  would 
afford  for  influencing  for  good  a  largo 
section  of  non-churchgoers. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— DE.-KMBKR  17,   1<)1 3. 


THE    LAND    "CAMPAIGN. 


" 


SCOUTMASTER  ASQUITH  (to  Scout  GsoiiaE  of  the  "Pheasant"  Patrol).  "WHAT   HAVE   YOU    TO    EEPORT?" 
SCOUT  GEOKGE.  "  THE    ENEMY    IS    ON    OUR    SIDE,    SIR." 
SCOUTMASTER  ASQUITH.  "THEN    LET    THE    BATTLE    BEGIN!" 

["  Whatever  can  be  done  to  improve  the  lot  of  the  agriculturist  will  have  the  Opposition's  cordial  support."—  Pall  Hall  Gazette.] 


DUCEMHEK  17,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


503 


Perstiasire  MereJumt. 

OKE-AS'-FRIPPENCB  1  " 


OVERHEARD    AT    THE    CALEDONIAN    MARKET. 

ONE-AN'-FBUTEXCE  THE  LCI!     Now  THES.  COME  A.LOSO,  SOME  OF  YEU!      'Anp  A  BLOOMIS'  'OMB  TO* 


GOOD    WEEDS    FOR    ILL. 

(Bciti'j  a  letter  uvitten  to  a  friend  accompanied  by  a 

seasonable  gift.) 
William,  because,  whene'er  I  come  to  stay, 

•With  no  apologies,  with  no  regrets 
You  hand  me  certain  tubes  of  poisoned  hay 
That  you  call  cigarettes ; 

Also  because,  whene'er  I  have  mislaid 

My  tris-ambrosial  pouch,  you  give  to  me 
Something  you  call  a  "  mixture  "  which  is  made 
Of  fruit  of  the  Dead  Sea, 

List  to  my  words.     Beyond  the  ocean  rim, 

Beyond  the  Atlantic  sunset's  flaming  bars, 
There  lie  the  happy  lands  that  poets  hymn — 
Chief  industry,  cigars. 

Virginia  also  lies  beyond  the  seas, 

Bearing  a  herb  that  comforts  mortal  moan 
When  smoked  in  pipes,  but  by  the  gods'  decrees 
When  smoked  in  pipes  alone. 

The  East  is  not  the  West ;  strange  ways  are  hers ; 

Brooding  in  mystery  and  ancient  awe, 
She  binds  up  little  paper  cylinders 

Not  wholly  stuffed  with  straw. 

With  frankincense  she  fills  her  fragrant  whiffs, 
But  when  it  comes  to  'baccy,  bless  my  soul, 
Where  did  you  buy  that  bane  for  hippogrifl's 
That  dams  your  cross-grained  bowl  ? 


Confusion  on  the  Syrian  town  that  lends 
Its  name  to  Latakia's  baleful  chunks ! 
Out  on  a  boyhood's  pal  whose  fume  offends 
Like  the  lone- wandering  skunk's  ! 

For  sins  like  these  some  men  would  cast  you  off, 

But  Christmas,  William,  Christmas  comes  again  ; 
Charity  tills  my  heart,  and,  though  I  cough, 
'Your  friend  I  still  remain. 

Please  find  enclosed  a  box  of  cigarettes 

Of  the  right  breed,  by  Orient  maidens  rolled, 
Also  some  frondage  from  the  shore  where  seta 
Fhccbus  in  flakes  of  gold. 

Not  that  I  hope  to  wean  you  from  your  sins ; 

You  will  go  on,  I  know  you,  all  your  life, 
Culling  their  offal  from  the  various  bins 
With  which  your  rooms  are  rife ; 

But,  when  I  come  to  call  on  you  next  year 

Amidst  the  envenomed  vapours  where  you  choke, 
You  shall  have  something  decent,  William  dear, 
To  give  your  guest  to  smoke. 


"Eighty-nine  years  ago,  almcsttoa  day— on  Monday,  December  10, 
1621 — William  Hazlitt  walked  down  Chancery-lane  to  inquire  at  tho 
Hola  in  the  Wall  publichouse  where  tho  fight  next  day,  between  BUI 
Neato  and  the  Gasman,  was  to  bo." 
This  is  from  a  leading  article  in  The  Times  of  Dec.  9,  1913, 
and  you  should  ask  your  little  boy  to  subtract  1821  from 
1913  and  tell  you  what  he  makes  it. 


504 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEITOEK  17,  1913. 


A   TRAVELLER'S   TALE. 

"  PERFECTION,"  said  Fo\vke3  senten- 
tiously,  "  is  always  a  divine  accident." 

"  Pardon  me,  Sir,  but  you  arc  wrong," 
interrupted  the  tubby,  red-faced  little 
man  silt  ng  opposite.  "  Perfection  can 
be  attained  by  long  and  painstaking 
effort.  I  speak  from  personal  experi- 
ence." 

"You  misapprehend  me,"  said  1'owkes, 
after  a  leisurely  stare  at  the  speaker. 
"  1  was  alluding  to  works  of  art."  '"  M"f 
to   sausages,   for   instance,"  ho 
under  his  breath.) 

Precisely,"  replied  the  other. 


("Not 
added 

-Pre- 


j  > ^ 

cisely.  I  take  it  you  would  regard  a 
perfect  short  story  as  a.  work  of  art. 
Quite  so.  Well,  I  claim  to  have  written 
a  perfect  short  story." 

"  The  perfect  short 
story,"  I  put  in,  "  is 
asserted  by  critics  not 
to  exist." 

"  Critics  are  all  veiy 
well  in  their  proper 
place,"  he  retorted. 
"  Their  proper  place  is 
in  a  sack  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea.  With  your 
permission,  gentlemen, 
I  will  endeavour  to 
shorten  the  tedium  of 
the  journey  by  relating 
to  you  how  1  came  to 
produce  this  story." 

Taking  our  em- 
barrassed silence  for 
consent,  he  went  on. 

"  I  am  a  modest 
man,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
don't  flatter  myself  that 
the  tale  was  more  than 


"  Well,  my  story,  it  appeared,  lacked       "I  won't  weary  you,  gentlemen,  by 
'dramatic  interest.'     'Alexander  Hoi-   continuing  in    this   depressing   strain 
born,'  1  said  to  myself,  'this  is  a  great  As  I  may  have  hintc-l, 


am  a 


,  ,  -,  roii] 

day.  Heighten  the  dramatic  interest!  and  pertinacious  man  and  noi  oasih 
of  your  story  and  it  will  be  accepted.  >  driven  to  despair.  Painfully  and  con 
That  is  the  one,  the  obvious,  tho  only  !  scionliously  1  overhauled  my  story  tim 

•i   i  i  ___  •  ___    »  I    _  r  t   .        i  •  *.  .       .  • 


possible  conclusion.' 

Alas,    gentlemen,    it    wag    not   so 


after  time  as  it  camo  back  to  me,  unli 
at    last    the    day    arrived    when    th 


simple   as   that  I     I   strengthened   the  I  damning  cross  was  placed  opposite  tb< 

plot  of  my  story  and  submitted  it  again  |  only   fault  up  to  then  left  unmarked 
with  perfect  confidence.     Three  weeks  I  The  list  was  complete.     My  Ion"  tasl 


later  it  was 
an  intimation 
diffuse.' 


returned    to    me    with 
that   it   was  now  'too 


was  practically  done. 


----    SWAXKIN'  ALONG,  PEETEXDIN'  'E'S  GOT  A  FARE 
ordinarily  good  when  I  L 

lirst  wrote  it.    It  was  just  an  average '  strengthened   plot: 
magazine  story,  which   I   sent  to  an   ' 
average  magazine.    It  came 


"  Very  carefully  1  remedied  the  allege 
defect,  and  returned  the  story  for  tho 

Happily  I  am  a  strong  man  and  not  last  time.  Every  possible  fault  hat 
easily  discouraged.  Acknowledging  the  now  been  corrected, 
justice  of  the  criticism,  I  rigorously  "  And  that,  gentlemen,  is  how  ] 
condensed  my  manuscript.  Eventually  achieved  the  Perfect  Short  Story.  J 
I  succeeded  in  reducing  it  by  nearly1  am  not  a  boastful  man,  but  I  defy  yot 
«•  half,  while  still  retaining  all  the  or  anyone  else,  knowing  all  the  circum- 
stances, to  describe  il 
otherwise.  But,  I  tell 
you,  tho  prolonged 
strain  was  fearful. 
Strong  and  resolute  as 
I  am,  as  soon  as  1  had 
posted  the  manuscript 
1  went  to  bed  for  a 
week." 

*  *  * 

"  What  did  they  pay 
you  for  it?"  I  asked, 
after  a  pause. 

"Nothing,"  ho  replied 
shortly. 

"  Nothing !  "  I  cried. 
"  Surely  ho  didn't  reject 
it  again  ?  " 

"  He  did,"  answered 
tho  other  grimly. 
"  When  it  came  back  I 
tell  you  I  could  scarcely 


Motor-'bus  Driver.  "  LOOK  AT  'in,  SITTING  THE  OLD  CONDUCTOR  ON  TOP  AND 


believe  my  eyes, 
there    it    was. 


back, 


as 


most  of  them  do,  accompanied  by  the 
usual  printed  slip— '  The  Editor  pre- 
sents his  compliments  and  regrets  that 
he  is  unable  to  make  use  of  the  enclosed 
contribution.'  I  have  had  hundreds  of 
them  in  my  life;  iu  fact  I  save  expense 
by  writing  my  copy  on  the  back  of 
them. 

"1  promptly  sent  it  to  a  second 
magazine,  and  again  it  was  returned. 
But  now,  instead  of  this  stereotyped 
formula  of  rejection,  there  was  included 
a  novelty  (to  me)  in  the  shape  of  a  slip 
on  which  was  printed  quite  a  compre- 
hensive list  of  literary  faults.  A  brief 
note  stated  that  a  cross  was  placed 
opposite  the  particular  fault  which  had 
decided  the  Editor  to  reject  the  manu- 
script. A  kindly,  thoughtful  editor 
that,  gentlemen,  anxious  to  help  a  dog 
over  a  lame  style,  if  you  will  excuse  my 
little  witticism.  Ha,  ha!  Pardon  me 


Still, 
But, 


Alexander  Hoi- 
born,'  I  said,  '  this  story  is  now  a  gem 
of  purest  ray  serene,  a  pearl  of  price. 
Be  pleased  with  yourself.  Exult.' 

"Again,  gentlemen,  incredible  as  it 
may  seem,  it  was  declined.  This  time 
it  was  condemned  for  the  unexpected 
reason  that  it  '  contained  too  strong  a 
religious  element.'  J  suppose  the  Editor 
must  have  overlooked  this  flaw  on  the 
previous  occasions,  or  possibly  he  was 
too  kind-hearted,  too  conscious  of  the 
sensitive  temperament  of  most  literary 
men,  to  announce  more  than  one  fault 
at  a  time. 

"  I  am  a  determined  man,  gentlemen, 
and  my  blood  was  fairly  up.  I  ruth- 
lessly cut  out  all  the  religion  and  sent 
the  tale  back.  It' was  rejected  on  the 
ground,  if  you  please,  that  it  was  '  not 
bright  enough.'  I  brightened  it  up, 
and  it  was  refused  because  it  was  '  too 
frivolous.'  I  took  out  33J  per  cent,  of  a _,_ 

s  frivolity ,  and  then  I  was  informed  A   very   deep    thought.     We  must  try 


after  all,  my  disappointment  was  in- 
significant compared  with  the  great 
passion  of  curiosity  which  took 
possession  of  me  as  I  fished  out  the 
printed  slip." 

"  What  did  it  say  ?  "  Fowkes  and  I 
demanded  simultaneously. 

"It  said,  'The  Editor  presents  his 
compliments  and  regrets  that  he  is 
unable  to  make  use  of  the  enclosed  con- 
tribution.' " 


"The  six  magistrates  retired,  and  on  re- 
turning to  Court  the  Chairman  said :— '  Hell, 
the  matter  stands  in  this  way.'  " 

Japan  Chronicle. 
We  like  his  directness. 


"  Missionary  TJiought  for  the  month  :— 
O'er  weather  lands  afar 
Thick  Darkness  troddeth  yet." 

The  Brighton  Parish  Magazine. 


that  it  lacked  '  human  interest. 


j  and  think  it  out. 


DECEMBER  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR   THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  505 


PRIZE 

MR.  JOHN  JINKS,    • 
AS  GEORGE  WASHINGTON'S  FATHEB. 


WINNERS 


OUR    FANCY 


MASTEB  JOHN  JINKS, 
AS  GEOUHE  WASHINGTON. 


DRESS    BALL. 

MASTEB  TOMMY  JINKS, 
AS  THE  THEE. 


THE    TEIALS    OF    GREATNESS. 

M.  ANATOLE  FRANCE  AT  THE 

PALL  MALL  THEATRE. 

-I  HAD  tho  pleasure  of  being  present 
last  Thursday  night  at  the  compli- 
mentary reception  given  to  M.  ANA- 
TOLE FRANCE,  the  famous  French 
litterateur,  by  Sir  Saebohm  Forest  in 
the  dome  of  the  Pall  Mall  Theatre. 
Many  well-known  figures  in  the  London 
literary  world  found  their  way  into  the 
reception  room,  including  Miss  Carrie 
Morelli,  Mrs.  Annie  Duck,  Sir  Clement 
and  Lady  Longeri'th'arm,  Mr.  \Viny- 
inann,  the  famous  publisher,  Sir  Knight 
Prescott,  the  Eev.  Claudius  Clear,  Dr. 
Marcus  Corker,  the  Eev.  Sir  Silvester 
Ivory,  Professor  Jesse  Blogg,  and  Sir 
Nicholson  Eoberts,  whose  keen  intel- 
lectual face  would  attract  attention 
anywhere. 

It  was  disappointing  not  to  see  the 
ever  genial  countenance  of  Mr.  EDMUND 
GOSSE,  so  usual  a  feature  at  all  gather- 
ings of  this  kind,  but  he  was,  I  was 
told,  saving  himself  for  the  greater 
dinner  to  M.  FRANCE,  who  has  always 
been  one  of  his  proteges,  at  the 
Alsace  Hotel.  As  some  compensation, 
however,  that  undaunted  intellectual 


gladiator  and  ami  de  France,  Mr.  T.  P. 
O'CoNNOK,  was  present. 

Sir  Seebohm  Forest,  who,  I  regret  to 
say,  looked  somewhat  pale  and  weary, 
made  a  charming  speech  in  proposing 
the  health  of  the  guest,  which,  in 
deference  to  the  views  of  the  majority 
of  those  present,  was  drunk  in  dry 
ginger  -  ale.  His  comments  on  the 
literary  merits  of  M.  ANATOLE  FRANCE 
were,  so  far  as  I  could  hear,  remarkably 
happy  and  in  perfect  taste,  and  the 
comparison  of  his  style  with  that  of 
Mr.  L.  N.  PARKER  was  a  striking  proof 
of  Sir  Seebohm's  appreciation  of  native 
letters.  I  thought  that  M.  ANATOLE 
France,  who  had  just  attended  a  perform- 
ance of  Sir  Seebohm  Forest's  great 
spectacular  drama,  Jacob  and  Esau, 
wore  a  slightly  enigmatic  expression.  It 
was  certainly  a  little  unfortunate  that 
in  the  hurry  of  introduction  ho  had  mis- 
taken Sir  Nicholson  Boberts  for  Lord 
EGBERTS,  with  whom,  as  apronounced 
anti-militarist,  he  could  not  be  expected 
to  feel  much  sympathy.  Otherwise  tho 
evening  passed  off  most  pleasantly. 

M.  FRANCE'S  reply  was  a  masterpiece 
of  delicate  elocution,  but,  alas!  I  caught 
too  little  of  what  he  said.  I  gathered, 
however,  that  England  appealed  to  him 


chiefly  as  a  country  in  which  tho  Non- 
conformist— literary  conscience  was 
never  hampered  by  the  restrictions  of 
public  opinion,  and  that,  as  a  student 
of  imperial  Eome,  he  rejoiced  to  find 
the  Apocolocynlosis  of  CLAUDIUS  per- 
petuated in  the  luminous  pages  of  The 
British  Weekly.  It  was  to  him  pecu- 
liarly touching  that  the  very  flower  of 
contemporary  English  literature  of  the 
weightier  variety  should  have  been 
thus  culled  for  him  by  his  gifted  host. 
To  be  in  such  a  company  was  the 
highest  honour  lie  could  conceive. 

It  was  pretty  to  see  M.FRANCE  saying 
good-night  to  Miss  Carrie  Morelli. 
There  wore  many  graceful  bows  on 
both  sides.  Somehow  M.  FRANCE  made 
another  speech,  in  which  I  understood 
him  to  say  that  while  Greece  boas'.ed 
her  SAPPHO  and  China  her  DOWAOKU- 
EMPBESS,  England  could  proudly  point 
to  the  literary  triumphs  and  enormous 
emoluments  won  and  earned  by  Carrie 
Morelli,  who  combined  the  tropical 
exuberance  of  the  Italian  temperament 
with  the  high  ideals  of  English  Puri- 
tanism. There  was  more  popping  of 
ginger-ale  corks,  and  we  all  retired  in 
high  good  humour  with  the  cheery  and 
phosphorescent  hospitality  of  our  host 


506 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECKIIBEB  17,  19J3. 


A   FEW  TRICKS   FOR   CHRISTMAS. 

(In  the  manner  of  many  contemporaries.) 
Now  that  the  "  festive  season  "  (copy- 
right) is  approaching,  it  behoves  us  all 
to  prepare  ourselves  in  some  way  to 
contribute  to  the  gaiety  of  the  Christ- 
ni.i-i  hoii<e  party.     A  clever  conjurer  is 
welcome   anywhere,   and  those  of   us 
whose    powers    of    entertainment    are 
limited  to  the  setting  of  hoohy-traps  or 
the  arranging  of  apple-pie  hods  must 
vie\\  with  envy  the  much  greater  tribute 
of  l-.mghter  and  applause  which  is  the  lot 
of  the  prestidigitator  with  some  natura 
gift  for  legerdemain.    Fortunately  there 
are    a    few    simple    conjuring    trick 
which  are  within  tho  reach  of  us  all 
With  practice  even  tho  clumsiest  of  us 
can  obtain  sufficient   dexterity  in  th< 
art  of  illusion  to  puzzle  the  most  obscr 
vant  of  our  fellow-guests.      The   few 
simple  tricks  which  I  am  about  to  ex 
plain,    if    studied     diligently    in     the 
week  remaining  before  Christmas,  wil 
make  a  genuine  addition  to  the  gaiety 
of  any    gathering,    and   the  amateur 
prestidigitator  (if  I  may  use  that  wore 
again)  will  find  that  he  is  amply  re- 
paying the  hospitality  of  his  host  anc 
hostess    by    his    contribution    to  the 
general  festivity. 

So  much  by  way  of  introduction.  It 
is  a  difficult  style  of  writing  to  keep 
up,  particularly  when  the  number  ol 
synonyms  for  "conjuring  "  -  is  so 
strictly  limited.  Let  me  now  get  to 
the  tricks.  I  call'thc  first 

HOLDING   THE    LEMON. 

For  this  trick  you  want  a  lemon  and 
a  pack  of  ordinary  playing  cards. 
Cutting  the  lemon  in  two,  you  hand 
half  to  one  member  of  your  audience 
and  half  to  another,  asking  them  to  hold 
the  halves  up  in  full  view  of  the  com- 
pany. Then,  taking  the  pack  of  cards 
in  your  own  hands,  you  offer  it  to  a 
third  member  of  the  party,  requesting 
him  to  select  a  card  and  examine  it 
carefully.  When  ho  has  done  this  he 
puts  it  back  in  the  pack,  and  you  seize 
this  opportunity  to  look  hurriedly  at 
the  face  of  it,  discovering  (let  us  say) 
that  it  is  the  five  of  sp.ides.  Once  more 
you  shuffle  the  pack;  and  then,  going 
through  the  cards  one  by  one,  you  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  locating  the  five  of 
spadei,  which  you  will  hold  up  to  tho 
company  with  the  words  "  I  think  this 
is  your  card,  Sir  "—whereupon  the 
audience  will  testify  by  its  surprise  and 
appreciation  that  you  have  guessed 
correctly. 

It  will  be  noticed  that,  strictly 
speaking,  the  lemon  is  not  a  necessary 
adjunct  of  this  trick  ;  but  the  employ- 
ment of  it  certainly  adds  an  air  of 
uystery  to  the  initial  stages  of  the 


illusion,  and  this  air  of  mystery  is, 
after  all,  the  chief  stock-in-trade  of  the 
•successful  qonjurer. 

For  my  next  trick,  which  I  call 

THK    ILLUSORY   EGG, 

and  which  is   most   complicated,  you 
require  a  sponge,  two  table-cloths,  a 
handful  of  nuts,  a  rabbit,  five  yards  of 
coloured  ribbon,  a  top-hat  with  a  hole 
in  it,  a  hard-boiled  egg,  two  florins  and 
a  gentleman's  watch.    Having  obtained 
all  these  things,  which  may  take  some 
time,    you    put    the    two    tablo-cloths 
aside   and  separate  the  other  articles 
into  two  heaps,  tho  rabbit,  tho  top-hat, 
tho  hard-boiled  egg,  and  tho  handful  of 
nuts  being  in  one  heap,  and  the  ribbon, 
the  sponge,  tho  gentleman's  watch  and 
the  two  florins  in  the  other.    This  being 
done,  you  cover  each  heap  with  a  table- 
cloth, so  that  none  of  tho  objects  be- 
neath is  in  any  way  visible.    Then  you 
invite  any  gentleman  in  the  audience 
to  think  of  a  number.     Let  us  suppose 
he  thinks  of  38.     In  that  case  you  ask 
any  lady  in  tho  audience  to/  think  of 
an  odd  number,  and  she  suggests  (shall 
we  say?)  29.     Then,  asking  the  com- 
pany  to  watch   you   carefully,    you — 
you— — 

To  tell  the  truth,  I '-have  forgotten 
just  what  it  is  you  do  do,  but  I  know 
that  it  is  a  very  jgooA  trick,  and  never 
fails  to  create  laughter  and  bewilder- 
ment. It  is  distinctly  an  illusion  worth 
trying,  and,  if  you  begin  it  in  the  man- 
ner" I  have  described,  quite  possibly 
some  way  of  finishing  it  up  will  occur 
to  you  on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  By 
multiplying  the  two  numbers  together 
and  passing  the  hard-boiled  egg  through 
the  sponge  and  then  taking  the  ...  or 
is  it  the —  Anyway,  I  'in  certain  you 
have  to  have  a  piece  of  elastic  up  the 
sleeve  .  .  .  and  I  know  one  of  the 
florins  has  to  -  No,  it 's  no  good,  1 
can't  remember  it. 

But  mention  of  tho  two  numbers 
reminds  me  of  a  trick  which  I  haven't 
Forgotten.  It  is  a  thought-reading 
illusion,  and  always  creates  the  maxi- 
mum of  wonderment  amongst  the  audi- 
ence. It  is  called 


THE  THREE  QUESTIONS. 
As  before,  you  ask  a  gentleman  in 
the  company  to  write  down  a  number- 
on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  a  lady  to 
write  down  another  number.  These 
numbers  they  show  to  the  other  guests. 
You  then  inform  the  company  that  you 
will  ask  any  one  of  them  three  ques- 
tions, and  by  the  way  they  are  answered 
you  will  guess  what"  the  product 
of  the  two  numbers  is.  (For  instance 
f  the  numbers  were  13  and  17,  then 
13  multiplied  by  17  is— let 's  see, 
hirteeu  sevens  are— thirteen  sevens- 


seven  threes  are  twenty-one,  seven 
times  one  is — well,  look  here,  let 's  sup- 
pose the  numbers  are  10  and  17.  Then 
the  product  is  170,  and  170  is  the 
number  you  have  got  to  guess.) 

Well,  the  company  selects  a  lady  to 
answeryourquestions,  and  the  first  thing 
you  ask  her  is  :  "  When  was  Magna 
Charta  signed?"  Probably  she  says 
that  she  doesn't  know.  Then  you  say, 
"  What  is  the  capital  of  Persia?  "  She 
answers Timbuctoo,  or  Omar  Khayyam, 
according  to  how  well  informed  she  is. 
Then  comes  your  last  question  :  "  What 
makes  lightning?  "  She  is  practically 
certain  to  say,  "Oh,  the  thunder.'' 
Then  you  tell  her  that  tho  two  numbers 
multiplied  together  come  to  170. 

How  is  this  remarkable-  trick  per- 
formed ?  It  is  quite  simpb.  Tho  two 
people  whom  you  asked  to  think  of  the 
numbers  are  confederates,  and  you 
arranged  with  them  beforehand  that 
they  should  write  down  10  and  17.  Of 
course  it  would  bo  a  much  better  trick 
if  they  weren't  confederates ;  but  in 
that  case  I  don't  quite  know  how  you 
would  do  it. 

I  shall  end  up  this  interesting  and 
instructive  article  with  a  rather  more 
difficult  illusion.  For  the  tricks  I  have 
already  explained  it  was  sufficient  that 
tho  amateur  prestidigitator  ([  shall  only 
say  this  on.co  more)  should  know  how- 
it  was  done ;  for  my  last  trick  he  will 
also  require  a  certain  aptituda  for 
legerdemain  in  order  to  do  it.  But  a 
week's  quiet  practice  at  homo  will  give 
him  all  the  skill  that  is  necessary. 

THE    MYSTERIOUS    PUDDINcV 


is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  popular 
illusions.  You  begin  by  borrowing  a 
gold  watch  from  one  of  your  audience. 
Having  removed  the  works,  you  wrap 
tho  empty  case  r,p  in  a  handkerchief 
and  hand  it  back  to  him,  asking  him 
to  put  it  in  his  waistcoat  pocket.  The 
works  you  place  in  an  ordinary  pudding 
basin  and  proceed  to  pound  up  with 
a  hammer.  Having  reduced  them  to 
powder,  you  cover  the  basi:i  with 
another  handkerchief,  which  you 
borrow  from  a  member  of  tho  com- 
pany, and  announce  that  you  aro  about 
to  make  a  plum-pudding.  Cutting  a 
small  hole  in  the  top  of  the  handkerchief 
you  drop  a  lighted  match  through  the 
aperture;  whereupon  the  handkerchief 
flares  up.  When  tho  flames  have 
died  down  you  exhibit  tho  basin, 
wherein  (to  tho  surprise  of  all) 
is  to  ho  seen  an  excellent  Christ- 
mas pudding,  which  you  may  ask 
your  audience  to  sample.  At  the 
same  time  you  tall  the  owner  of  the 
watch  that  if  he  feels  in  his  pocket  he 
will  find  his  property  restored  to  him 
intact;  and  to  his  amazement  ho  dis- 


DECEMBER  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    <  'IFAKIVA  III. 


607 


covers  that  the  works  in  some  mys- 
terious way  liavo  got  back  into-  his 
watch,  and  that  the  handkerchief  in 
which  it  was  wrapped  up  lias  gone! 

Now  for  tlio  explanation  of  this  in- 
genious illusion.  Tlio  secret  of  it  is 
that  you  have  a  second  basin,  with  a 
pudding  in  it,  concealed  in  tho  palm  of 
your  right  hand.  At  the  critical  mo- 
ment, when  the  handkerchief  flan 
you  take  advantage)  of  tlio  Ovcitomcnt 
produced  to  substitute  tho  one  liasin 
for  tho  other.  Tho  watch  from  which 
you  extract  tho  works  is  not  the 
borrowed  one,  but  one  which  you  have 
had  concealed  between  tho  third  and 
fourth  fingers  of  tho  left  hand.  You 
show  the  empty  case  of  this  watch  to 
tho  company,  before  wrapping  the 
watch  in  the  handkerchief  and  handing 
it  hack  to  its  owner.  Meanwhile 
with  tho  aid  of  a  little  wax  you 
have'  attached  an  invisible  hair  to 
the  handkerchief,  tho  other  end  of  it 
being  fastened  to  the  palm  of  your  left 
hand.  With  a  little  practice  it  is  not 
difficult  to  withdraw  the  handkerchief, 
by  a  series  of  trifling  jerks,  from  the 
pocket  of  your  fello'w  guest  to  its  resting 
place  between  the  lirst  and  second 
fingers  of  your  left  hand. 

Olie  word  'more.  I  am  afraid  that 
tho  borrowed  handkerchief  to  which 
you  "applied  the*  match  really  did  get 
burnt,  and  'you  will  probably  have  to 
offer  the  owner  one  of  your  own  instead. 
That  is  the  only  weak  spot  in  one  of  the 
most  baffling  tricks  ever  practised  by 
the  amateur  prestidigitator  (to  use  the 
word  for  the  last  time).  It  will  make  a 
fitting  climax  to  your  evening's  enter- 
tainment— an  entertainment  which  will 
ensure  you  another  warm  invitation 
next  year  when  the  "  festive  season  " 
(com/right)  comes  upon  us  once  again. 

A.  A.  M. 


THE    TRIBULATIONS   OF    A 
THIRD-RATE    SHOT. 

i. 

(In  his  trap  shortly  after  an  early 
breakfast.) 

(To  himself)  Well,  I'm  in  for  it. 
Don't  know  what  in  the  world  induced 
Sir  John  to  ask  me  to  this  show.  The 
last  day  of  the  cover  shoot  is  a  pretty 
sudden  jump  from  the  annual  garden 
party  which  has  always  represented 
tlio  extent  of  our  social  intercourse. 
Shall  certainly  have  to  do  my  best  to 
play  up.  A  hard-working  beggar  like 
me,  who  has  no  time  to  shoot  seriously, 
can't  expect  to  ho  in  the  running  with 
these  experts.  However,  it's  a  mere 
toss-up.  Depends  very  much  upon  how 
we  are  placed.  A  lot  can  go  on  at  a 
cover  shoot  that  no  one  ever  sees.  And 
I  mat;  be  hitting  them.  I  have  had  my 


Barber.  "I'M  EOHRY,  CULLY,  BUT  I  01:0111  10  -11:1,1. 

TO  CHARGE  YOU   AS   A   I.YDY." 


YKJl    'rOKK    I    START.      I  'LL    'AVE 


useful  days  even  among  high  pheasants. 
But  I  expect  I '11  miss  "em  and  wing 
'em  and  tail  "em  and  have  'em  running 
all  over  tho  place;  and  then  a  wood- 
cock '11  come  along  and (Shudders). 

Well,  here  we  are.   Good  luck  to  you, 
my  son. 

ii. 

(On  his  icay  to  the  first  stand.  Tie  is 
walking  with  one  of  the  other  guns.) 
(Aloud)  Been  a  rotten  season,  and 
he  has  very  few  birds,  eh  ?  (To  him- 
self) Dare  say  it  is  just  as  well.  Won't 
pass  over  me  in  solid  streams  quite 
unscathed,  as  I  feared.  Doesn't  want 
any  hens  shot?  Well,  bang  it  all,  I 
generally  know  a  ben  when  I  see  one. 
(Aloud)  Only  using  one  gun  ?  (Wisely) 
Ah, 'yes.  (To  himself)  That  was  a 
stroke  of  luck,  as  I  never  dreamed  of 
bringing  two.  Haven't  got  two.  This 
Captain  Bowker  must  be  the  famous 
Bowker,  I  suppose.  That's  the  feller 
that  has  three  birds  falling  in  the  air  at 
the  same  time.  Heaven  preserve  me 
from  that  chap !  (Aloud)  Yes,  a  ripping 
day.  What?  What  charge  of  powder 
am  I  using?  (To  himself)  Hanged  if 


I  know.  Just  my  luck.  If  he  'd  asked 
me  the  shot  I  could  have  told  him. 
Wish  they  wouldn't  propound  conun- 
drums. Must  try  to  change  the  sub- 
ject. (Aloud)  Many  woodcock  come  in 
yet?  (To  himself)  Seems  surprised. 
I  wonder  if  woodcock  do  "come  in"? 
Always  supposed  they  did.  (In  reply 
to  an  observation  of  his  companion's) 
Yes,  nice  warm,  covers.  (To  himself) 
Wish  I  knew  how  one  cover  contrives 
to  be  warmer  than  another;  should 
have  thought  that  depended  on  the 
weather.  Shall  have  to  find  out  about 
that.  (Moves  on.) 

Here  comes  Bowker.  Know  he's 
going  to  ask  me  what  charge  I  use. 
I  '11  have  to  get  beforehand  with  him. 
(Aloud,  cheerfully)  Nice  warm  covers, 
aren't  they — warm  as  toast.  What  ? 

(In  reply  to  a  keeper)  That  stand  by 
the  hedge?  Right  you  are!  (To  him- 
self) In  full  view  of  the  experts!  Just 
my  luck ! 

in. 

(At  the  first  stand.    An  asterisk  denotes 

the  shots  of  the  speaker.) 
Now,  my  son,  pull  yourself  together, 


f03  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  17,  1913. 


"..'-x^  -:""'---,o:-v    S 


.-.-•,' 


Jfosf.  "  NUMBER  FIVE— ^THAT 's  YOURS,  MAJOR." 


Gnest.  "HAVE  I  GOT  TO  HIDE  BEHIND  THAT? 


and  let  your  watchword  be,  Througl 

the  neck  every  time.    Hon!    Onlvjusi 

saved  myself.     (Rather  feverishly)  Re 

member,  they  are -shorter  in  the  tail 

you  fool — no  comparison,  far  shorter 

niles    shorter    and    not   so    pictorial 

There  goes  another  hen  .  .  .  and  yel 

t  had  a  goodish  long  tail  for  a  hen 

Markham's  fired  at  it!     Hang  me  il 

t  wasn't  a  cock  after  all !    That  was  a 

bad  break.    No  mistake  about  this  one. 

*    *    Never  miud— pretty  high   bird, 

that.     Hullo,  Bowker  has  him  down. 

Now  how  in  the  world  can  Bowker  kill 

'em  from  thsre?  -  Here  they  come.  *  * 

Never  mind.    Load ;  don't  fumble.  *  * 

Cheer  up,  you  '11  soon  be  on  to  them. 

=:••  *  Rotten.  *  *  Ha,  that  one 's  down ! 

But  he 's  running,  the  brute,  like  a  hare. 

Lord,  he  is  moving !   *   *     Skimming 

brutes.     Why  don 't  they  get  well  up  ? 

(Several  shots'down  the  line  and  shouts 

'  Woodcock  !     M.irk  !  "     He  looks 

round  trembling.     Growing  excitement. 

The  bird  'comes  straight  for  his  head.) 

*    Now' then,  again.     *     No  earthly 

good.    To  the   left— quick!     *    That 

one 's  down.    But  it 's  a  hen— and  it 's 

running.     (Looking  after  it)  Through 

the  hedge  and  right  up  the  hill ;  twentv 

miles  an  hour.     *     *    (Pause)     *     * 

£?*'$.,*  *  You  helpless  idiot! 
Why  did  I  ever  leave  my  happy  home  ? 
What  on  earth  is  this  ?  Is  it  an  owl 
or  a  crow?  Seems  to  have  a  most 
extraordinary  flight.  I  wonder  why  it 
flops  about  like  that  ?  Better  leave  it 


alone.  (In  deep  anxiety)  Can't  see  with 
the  sun  in  my  eyes— makes  me  look 
such  a  blamed  fool.  (Suddenly)  I've 
got  it!  It's  a  hawk!  Shall  I  fire? 
=:=  Sure  to  want  his  hawks  shot.  *• 
Well;  it 's  down,  whatever  it -was.  Be 
he  won't  run.  (Continues  to  blaze  away 
without  further  result  till  the  beat  is 
-over.  During  the  pick-up  he  hears  a 
voice  behind  him,  "I  wonder  who  shot  a 
tumbler  pigeon?")  'A  tumbler  pigeon  ? 
(In  the  deepest  horror)  How  utterly 
awful !  (He  plunges  into  the  cover  on 
of  sight.) 

IV. 

(Before  llic  second  beat.) 
(Aloud)  I  should  like  to  walk,  Sir 
John,   if   you   want  a  gun   with   the 
beaters.     Got  a  bit  cold,  standing. 

•  "   v. 

(Before  the  third  beat.) 
Let  me  walk.    I  like  the  exercise. 

VI. 

(Before  the.fourth  beat.) 
Yes,  I  'm  walking,  if  you  don't  mind. 
.  forgot  to  bring  a  sweater  and  I've 
got  a  touch  of  a  chill,  I  think. 

VII. 

(In  the  cover  during  Uie  last  beat, 
walking  in  line  with  the  beaters.) 
(To    himself,  enthusiastically)    Per- 
ectly  charming   in    the    seclusion   of 
hese  delightful  woods !     (Strolls  com- 
nacently  along.) 


VIII.        : 

(On  the  way  in  after  the  shoot  is  over.) 
(To  his  companion  gun)  I  had  the  sun 
in  my  eyes,  you  know.  Sir-John  really 
is  annoyed  about  it  ?  Hates  having 
anything  shot  that  can't  be  eaten? 
(To  himself)  I  '11  eat  it.if  that 's  all  he 
wants.  Beastly  awkward.  Here  comes 
Sir  John  himself.  Must  keep  him  off 
the  subject.  (Aloud)  Nice  warm  covers 
you  have,  Sir  John  I 

IX. 

(At  tea.) 

(To  himself)  Think  he 's  forgotten 
all  about  it !  No,  by  Jove,  he  hasn't ! 
(He  listens  to  the  voice  of  his  host  at 
the  far  end  of  the  table)  "  It  isn't  sport, 
and  it  can't  possibly  have  been  a  mis- 
take. I'm  not  going  to  have  tame 
pigeons  shot  on  this  place."  (He  rises 
hastily.  Aloud)  I  think  my  trap  is 
waiting;  so,  if  you  '11  excuse  me 


x. 


(On  the  way  home.) 

^  Well,  that's  over,  thank  Heaven. 
Suppose  we  shall  now  revert  to  the 
annual  garden  parly. 

"  The  playground  is  covered  with  red  baizo  • 
T.  sand  pit  will  be  placed  in  a  corner  in  summer. 
\\  hon  the  warmer  weather  comes  the  children 
will  take  their  afternoon  sleep  in  the  verandah." 

Tin'  Glasgow  Herald. 

Till  the  wanner  weather  comes,  the 
children  can  draw  a  corner  of  the  play- 
ground over  them,  and  be  quite  snug.' 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— DECEIIBEB  17,  1913. 


FOEE-ARMED. 

SIR  EDWARD  CARSON  (in  course  of  promenade  on  the  quay,  to  Customs  Officer  BIIMELL).  "  CAPITAL  IDEA 
THIS  OF  STOPPING  IMPORTATION  OF  ARMS.  NOW  THERE'S  A  DANGEROUS  CHARACTER; 
YOU  SHOULD  SEARCH  HIM.  THAT'S  JUST  THE  SORT  OF  BAG  HE'D  HAVE  A  COUPLE 
OF  HOWITZERS  CONCEALED  IN." 


DECEMBER  17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


Ml 


JOYS 


RESTAURANT    LIFE. 


WHY   BE   DULL   AT  HOME  WHEN   YOU   CAS   DINE   BRIGHTLY  TO   MUSIC   IS   A   PUBLIC  ROOM  ? 


THE    BOXIAD. 


(A  Fragment} 


SHADES  of  the  great,  what  make  you  in  this  hall, 

Here  where  the  British  bays  that  erst  you  worj 

Are  hy  the  Frenchman's  ruthless  hand  deface;! '.' 

Lo,  how  they  lie  in  ruin  on  the  floor, 

Each  leaf  a  separate  mark  of  impotence, 

And  every  broken  twig  a  fount  of  tears. 

Shades  of  the  great,  what  make  you  in  this  hall '? 

Then  JACKHON  veiled  his  agitated  eyes, 

And  passed  in  silence;  RANDALL  bowed  his  head, 

And  drooped  his  difficult  and  ravaging  hand  ; 

And  CIIIBB  and  BENDIGO  and  KING  were  mute ; 

And  SAVERS  averted  his  too  mournful  gaze, 

That  SAYI:HS  who  held  his  own  the  long  day  through, 

Spite  of  his  shattered  arm,  and  came  to  time 

Again  and  yet  again,  and  would  not  yield, 

While  with  one  dauntless  fist  he  struck  and  bunged 

The  hold  Beniuia  Boy's  discoloured  eyes. 

And  other  Shades  there  were  of  lusty  men 

With  flattened  noses  and  with  thickened  ears, 

Men  who  while  yet  the  blood  coursed  through  their  veins 

Had  dealt  and  taken  many  a  crashing  blow 

On  face  and  ribs  and  chest  and  on  the  mark, 

The  much-desire:!  uncomfortable  mark — 

Whose  peepers  had  been  closed,  whose  kissing-traps 

Had  rained  to  earth  their  fragmentary  teeth — 


Brawny,  bull-necked  and  muscle-covered  men, 
With  beefy  fists  and  deadly  driving  arms — 
All  these  were  there  and  all  were  very  low. 
Shades  of  the  great,  what  make  you  in  this  hall  ? 

At  last  the  Spirit  of  British  Boxing  spoke, 

And  he  was  cheerful,  on  his  open  brow 

No  frown  was  seen,  nor  sadness  in  his  eyes : — 

"  If  hearts  ye  have,  lift  up,"  he  said,  "  your  hearts ; 

Lot  not  your  manly  minds  be  steeped  in  wo:;. 

'Tis  true  CARPENTIEU  beat  the  Bombardier, 

Jabbing  him  six  times  shortly  in  the  stomach, 

So  that  he  fell  and  swift  was  counted  out. 

But  this  CARPENTIEB  is  a  proper  man  ; 

And  you,  old  heroes,  you  may  well  be  proud 

To  own  a  hero,  though  he  comes  from  France. 

And  it  may  hap  that  on  another  day 

Some  beef-fed  British  boxer  shall  arise, 

Cool  in  his  guard  and  crafty  in  his  blows, 

Lithe  and  enduring  as  CARPENTIER  is, 

And  turn  the  changing  tables  on  the  Gaul. 

Dame  Fortune  shifts  her  smiles,  but  gives  them  most 

To  those  who  by  their  toil  deserve  them  well." 

So  spoke  the  Spirit,  and  the  thronging  Shades, 
Won  o'er  to  cheerfulness,  acclaimed  his  words. 


512 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  17,  1913. 


AN    ACADEMIC    DISCUSSION. 

IN  such  time  as  she  can  spare  from 
the  frivolities  of  life,  Matilda  runs  a 
school.  As  she  believes  in  "keeping 
things  separate,"  the  frivolities  are  not 
permitted  access  to  the  school  or  to 
Matilda  in  her  capacity  as  school- 
mistress. Tims  when  I  (who  am  one 
of  her  frivolities)  presented  myself  I 
was  'refused'  admission.  So  1  must 
resort  to  subterfuge,  and  disguise 


myself  as  a  father  with  children  to 
educate.  Incidentally,  I  am  no  father 
and  know  little  or  nothing  of  children. 
Side-whiskers,  an  artificial  complexion, 
and  a  falsetto  voice  completed  my  in- 
cognito. A  borrowed  visiting 
gained  me  admission. 

"  I  understand 
that  you  keep  an 
academy  for  the 
young,"  I  said. 

"I  keep  a  school," 
Matilda  replied 

"Ah!  \Vell,  I 
wondered  if  you 
could  undertake 
the  care  of  some 
children  ?  " 

"That  is  one  of 
my  objects  in  keep- 
ing  a  school." 
(Matilda  was  not 
helping  me  much.) 
"  Are  they  boys  or 
girls?"  ' 

"Both,"  I  said. 
"Boys  mostly — 
two  boys,  in  fact, 
and  a  girl.  Does 
that  matter?" 

"I  take  both 
boys  and  girls." 

"That  relieves 
my  mind.  I  should  like  them  all  to  be 


"  Arithmetic?  " 

"  Not  directly." 

"  In  my  young  days  there  used  to  he 
a  person  in  vogue  called  Euclid.  Is  he 
still  extant  ?  " 

"  No,  he  has  gone." 

'•Dead?  Ah,  well,  I  never  liked  the 
man  and  always  thought  that  some  mis- 
fortune would  overtake  him.  Greek  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Quite  right.  It  always  struck  me 
as  the  language  of  an  untrustworthy 

T  T  •       ,  c\   f  i 


race.     History  ? 

"Ancient  and  modem." 
"  Like -the  hymns — what  ?  " 
We  had  readied  the  class-rooms  and 
I   observed   a   larg      flat    bath    which 
card   appeared  to  contain  sand. 
I      "  What  is  that?  "  1  asked. 


"It  might  save  confusion." 

"Is  there  anything  else  they  will 
want — beds,  for  instance  ?  " 

"  Wo  supply  beds,  hut  each  child  is 
expected  to  bring  a  spoon  and  fork." 

"  How  many  spoons  and  forks  will 
that  he?  Did  I  say  three  or  four 
children  ?  " 

"  You  said  three. 
forks." 

suppose  they  couldn't  manage  on 
-tak'  turns  to  eat,  so  to  speak  ?  " 


Three  spoons  and 


less 


THE  CHARITABLE  SEASON— HINTS  TO  MILLIONAIRES 

THE  KIGHT  ^TCHMEH  WHO  LOOK  AIXEB 


together.  I  am  looking  for  some  one  who 
will  be  a  mother  to  my  orphan  children.' 
"  They  have  no  mother?"  said  Matilda 


sympathetically. 
None  of  them. 


Forgive  me,  but 


Let  us  say  they  average 


you  look  a  little  young  for  the  post." 

"  How  old  are  they  ?  " 

"  Seven." 

"  All  of  them  ?  " 

"  All  but  two.    The  others  are  either 
less  or  more, 
seven." 

"  As  you  please.  You  would  like  to 
see  over  the  school  ?  " 

We  visited  the  playing  fields,  gym- 
nasium and  other  appliances  for  physical 
culture.  At  last  I  asked— 

"  Is  any  provision  made  for  mental 
gymnastics?" 

"Of  course  we  don't  neglect  the  mind. 
\Ve  teach  nearly  everything— dancing, 
deportment,  music,  French,  German 
algebra  and  trigonometry." 


"That  is  part  of  the  curriculum. 
The  younger  children  draw  maps  and 
make  designs  in  the  sand." 

"Delightful.  Every  school  its  own 
beach.  And  where  do  they  paddle  ?  " 
I  looked  round  for  the  water. 

"They  don't  paddle;  they  bathe  at 
the  baths." 

"  You  don't  teach  paddling  ?  That 's 
a  pity,  but  I  suppose  one  can't  get 
everything.  You  teach  mixed  bathing, 
of  course  ?  It  is  a  most  essential  part  of 
modern  educatioh." 

'  The  children  bathe  together." 

'Now,  as  to  food.     1  suppose  that 
they  have  meals  and  things  ?  " 
Breakfast,  dinner  and  tea." 

'Do  the  children  dress  for  dinner?  " 

|  No,  but  they  dress  for  breakfast.  We 
insist  on  that  even  with  the  youngest  " 

nTU._    T    _  •'...      o"""- 


"1  thin.  i:ot." 

"You    supply     everything     else  

measles,  mumps  et-.  ?  I  should  like 
them  to  have  all  those  things  properly." 
"  We  canno?  guarantee  disease.  In- 
deed, we  rather  encourage  attention  to 
the  principles  of  hygiene." 

"  And  as  to  fees, 
is  there  any  reduc- 
tion on  a  quantity? 
Do  you  take  three 
as  two,  or  anything 
of  that  kind  ?  " 

"  We  make  a 
slight  reduction  in 
the  case  of  brothers 
and  sisters." 

"That  will  be  all 
right  then  ;  they 
are  all  by  the  same 
mother.  How 
would  you  like 
them  senV?" 

Under  suitable 
protection.  And 
when  may  I  expect 
them?  " 

I  cannot  say 
definitely,  not  to  a 
term  or  two.  I 
shall  have  to  con- 
sult their  mother." 
"I  thought  they 


had  lost  their  mother?  " 

"  Quite  true,  they  have  lost  their 
mother  —  irretrievably  ;  but  I  am 
something  of  a  spiritualist.  I  believe 
in  -  " 

"  Excuse  me,  but  your  left  whisker  is 
hanging  by  a  thread.  Would  you  like 
to  remove  it  and  clean  the  rest  of  your 
face  while  they  bring  in  tea  ?  " 


,ir 
irl 


A  communication  from  REUTEH  states 
that  during  the  recent  tumult  in  the 
Lower  House  of  the  Reichsrath  : 

"Two  members  (Herren  Budzynowskii  and 
Siengalewicz)  had  electric  bells  .  .  .  while 
Herr  Olesniezkiyj  blew  a  bugle." 

The  noise  they  produced  with  these 
instruments,  however,  was  nothing  to 
the  ear-splitting  effect  when  they  began 
to  call  each  other  by  name — a  custom 

,iff-  ~,  which,    we    understand,    is    forbidden 

erent  kind  from  the  under  the  rules  of  the  House,  owing  to 
its  generally  unhappy  consequences. 


. 
Then  I  suppose  they  will  require 


17,  1913.]  PUNCH,    Oil    TIIK    LONDON    CIIAIMVA  I.'I. 


r»l:t 


CHRISTMAS    PRESENTS. 

Ciu.li.iner.  "  Arx  THESE  KEEII  VF.HY  EXPENSIVE:    CAN'T  YOU  SUGGEST  SOMETHIXG  CHEAPER?  " 

Shopman  (tcith  views  on  commercial  morality).  "  CE.ITAIXLY,  MADAM.    I  corr.o  SUGGEST  A  PIECE  OP  THIN  PAPI.U  AND  A  COMD  ! 

TO    ENGELBERT    HUMPERDINCK. 


(After  hearing 

How  strange  that  modern  Germany,  so  gruesome  in  her  art, 
Where  sheer  sardonic  satire  has  expelled  the  human  heart, 
Should  also  be  the  Germany  that  gives  us,  to  our  joy, 
The  perfect  children's  opera — pure  gold  without  alloy. 


Hansel  und  Gretd"  for  the  fifteenth  time.) 

Till,  bald  and  grey  and  middle-aged,  \vc  watch  with  child- 
like glee 

The  very  games  wo  learned  long  since  at  our  dead  mother's 
luiea. 


I  know  there  are  admirers  of  the  supra-normal  STRAUSS 
Who  hold  him,  matched  with  others,  as  a  mammoth  to  a 

mouse, 

And,  though  they  often  feel  obliged  his  lapses  to  deplore, 
His  "cerebral  significance"  increasingly  adore. 

In  parts  I  find  him  excellent,  just  like  the  curate's  egg, 
But  not  when  he  is  pulling  the  confiding  public's  leg ; 
Besides,  the  height  of  genius  I  never  could  explain 
As  "  an  infinite  capacity  for  giving  others  pain." 

No,  give  to  me  my  ENGELBERT,  my  gentle  HUMPERDIXCK, 
Whose  cerebral  development  is  void  of  any  kink ; 
Who  represents  in  music,  in  the  most  enchanting  light, 
That  good  old  German  quality,  to  wit,  Gemiithlichkeit. 

I  love  his  gift  of  melody,  now  homely  in  its  vein, 
Now  rising,  as  be^ts  his  theme,  to  the  celestial  plane ; 
I  love  the  rich  orchestral  tide  that  carries  you  along ; 
1  love  the  cunning  counterpoint  that  underlies  the  song. 

Though  scientific  pedagogues  that  golden  realm  have  banned, 

He  leads  us  back  by  pleasant  paths  to  childhood's  fairyland,   Keeps  the  unclouded  vision  of  a  bonder-hearted  child. 


Our  hearts  are  moved  when  in  the  wood  the  children  lose 

their  way, 

And  strange  uncanny  echoes  mock  their  innocent  dismay, 
And  when,  clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  they  cast  them 

down  to  sleep, 
We  know  that  real  angels  come  and  night-long  vigil  keep. 

Wo  thrill  with  apprehension  of  the  risks  that  loom  ahead 
When  they  cross   the   magic   threshold   of  the  House  of 

Gingerbread ; 

And  O !  with  what  contentment  we  at  last  Ijehold  them  pitch 
Head-foremost  in   her  furnace-fire   the   broomstick-riding 

witch ! 

There 's  not  a  bar  of  Hansel's  part  that 's  not  exac'ly  right ; 
There  'a  not  a  note  for  Grelcl  that 's  not  a  pure  delight ; 
And  having  heard  it  lately  for  (I  think)  the  fifteenth  time 
1  know  I  "in  talking  reason,  though  it  happens  to  be  rhyme. 

Then  let  us  thank  our  lucky  stars  that  in  a  squalid  age 
When  horror,  blood  and  ugliness  so  many  pens  engage, 


TV   UBU      Ii^/Lll-/l|      IJ1WVA     WUVA      llf^l  I  »JV^.3.3     t>»_^     ai      W"J       I  O™ 

One  of  our  master-minstrels,  by  fashion  unbeguiled, 


514 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHAEIVAEI. 


[DECEMBER  17,  1913. 


THE    SILHOUETTE. 

were  having  tea. 

"  No  sugar,"  I  said. 

-Milk?" 

"  What  tea  is  it  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Ceylon, 
China,  caravan  ?  " 

"Ceylon,  I  believe,"  she  said. 

"  Then  a  little  milk,"  I  replied. 

"  But  supposing  it  had  been  caravan  ?" 
sho  hazarded. 

I  sighed. 

"  Next  time,"  she  promised. 

We  talked  about  the  usual  things — 
tho  beauty  and  wonder  of  CAIU>ENTIER; 
the  gaiety  of  HAWTREY  in  Never  Say 
Die ;    tho   charm    of    Quality    Street 
EOJIXEY'S  Sleeping  Baby  at  the  Gros 
venor ;  ANATOLE  FKANCE  ;   the  fall  o 
LA  is  KIN. 

Having  completed  tin's  round,  she 
asked  mo  if  I  would  like  to  sse  hei 
silhouettes. 

"  Fearfully,"  I  said. 

She  placed  a  little  portfolio  before  me 

I    turned   over   the    black   profiles, 
That 's  Jack,"  I  said. 

"Yes." 

"  That 's  his  wife  Marjorie." 

"  Yes." 

"  How    clever    you    are  !      That  's 
what 's  his  name  who  lives  near  you." 
Yes." 

This    is    wonderful.      But    who 's 
this?" 

Oh,  that 's  the  wife  of  a  man  who 
lives  near  Jack." 

"I  don't  know  her?  " 

"  No." 

"  That  accounts  for  my  not  recognis- 
ing her,"  I  said.  "  But  it  looks  horribly 
lifelike.  Won't  you,"  I  said,  after  a 
judicious  pause, — "  won't  you  do  me  ?  " 
(I  am  rather  set  on  my  profile.  I  have 
been  told  it  is  good.) 

"  I  'd  love  to,"  she  said  tactfully. 

"Eight,"  I  said.  "How  shall  I  sit 
for  it  ?  " 

"Just  like  that,"  she  said,  getting 
icr  sketch  block  and  sitting  beside  me. 
1  Look  straight  ahead." 

"  I  can't  look  straight  ahead  without 
something  to  smoke,"  I  said. 

She  brought  me  a  cigarette. 

"  Now,"  she  said. 

"Then  you   draw  it?"  I   remarked. 
"  I  thought  you  cut  it  out  with  scissors." 
"  Oh,  no.     I  draw  it  and  then  ink  it 
in." 

"Eight,"  I  said. 

She  worked  diligently  while  I  smoked. 
"  Do  you  want  me  to  be  realistic  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  fearing  nothing. 
"You   won't    mind?"    shfi    iwiliprl 


(What  an  odd  remark  ! 

"  Why  should 
a  fool's  paradise. 


won't    mind  ? "    she 

aark !) 
"  Why  should  I  ?  "  I  asked,  still  in 


"  Nothing,"  she  said,  and  continued. 


I  felt  I  would  give  a  thousand  pound 
to  faco  her,  hut  I  didn't  dare.  This  wa 
a  piofile.  My  nose,  I  knew,  was  gcoc 
I  had  seen  it  at  tho  hatter's  in  one  o 
those  triple  mirrors — clean  cut,  Eoman 
efficient.  Then  my  blood  ran  cold: 
suddenly  remembered  my  chin.  M 
chin,  I  say;  I  mean  my  chins. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  that  about  being 
realistic?"  I  said  in  agony. 

"  Nothing,"  she  said. 

I  took  another  cigarette. 

"There,"  she  said,  "that's  c!one.' 
She  showed  it  me. 

"Is  that  me?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes.     Who  did   you   think  I  was, 
drawing  :  Lr.oyn  GEOUGE  ?  "     (That 's 
the  worst  of  letting  girls  go  to  music 
halls,    they  pick   up    cheap    sarcastic 
ways.) 

I  studied  it.     It  did  not  lock  like  me 
as  I  remembered  myself  from  the  las 
visit  to  the  hatter's,  and  yet  she  hac 
seemed  to  be  clever. 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  I  asked,  pointing  to 
a  lump. 

"  That  ?     That 's  your  second  chin.' 

"And  this?" 

"That's  your  third  cliin." 

(Heavens  !  how  rich  I  am  !) 

"  But  surely,"  I  said,  "  the  nose  isn't 
right  ?  And  you  've  made  the  lip  much 
too  long." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  she  replied  coldly. 
"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  knoir,"  I  admitted.  "  I  have 
a  kind  of  instinct." 

She  forced  me  back  into  my  position, 
something  between  the  dentist  and  the 
photographer,  and  scrutinised  me  care 
fully. 

"Perhaps  it  is  a  shade  too  long," 
she  said,  and  shortened  it.  You  can 
make  all  the  alterations  you  like  before 
tho  ink  is  applied. 

"  Now  ?  "  she  said. 

I  looked  again.  "  That 's  better,"  I 
replied. 

"  But  how  do  you  know  ? "  she 
asked.  "  You  must  be  very  vain." 

"  I  was,"  I  said.  "  But  never  again. 
Look  at  that  array  of  chins." 

"  I  '11  ink  it  in  after  you  've  gone," 
she  said.  "  Then  I  '11  send  it  to  you." 

The  silhouette  came  home  two  days 
later. 

I  tried  it  all  over  the  rcom — on  the 
mantelpiece,  on  the  tables,  in  picture 
frames.  Then  my  landlady  came  in. 

"  Who  do  you  think  that 's  meant 
for?  "  I  asked  her. 

She  subjected  it  to  minute  study. 
'It's  either  NAPOLEON,"  she  said  at 
ast  (my  heart  gave  a  joyful  bound), 
'or  DANNY  MAHEK." 

"But  neither  of  them  had  three 
chins,"  I  said. 

"All  real  gentlemen  have  three  chins," 
ihe  replied  bravely. 


DRAMATIC  EXCLUSIVENESS. 

WHAT  with  a  Woman's  Theatre 
established  at  one  playhouse  and  a 
Children's  Theatre  at  another,  each 
with  its  appropriate  dramatic  faro,  we 
are  evidently  on  the  way  to  a  state  o; 
things  in  which  every  separate  class  ol 
audience  will  have  its  suitable  drama 
served  up  in  a  special  building.  We 
may  then  look  for  the  following 
announcements : — • 

A  fine  performance  of  The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew  was  given  last  night  at  the 
Misogynists'  Theatre  in  Adam  Street. 
This  cosy  little  house,  with  its  smoking 
and  billiard  rooms,  was  packed  to  the 
doors  by  an  audience  that  applauded 
every  point  in  the  comedy  with  rapture. 
The  grand  Christmas  pantomime,  Blue 
Beard,  is  advertised  for  Boxing  Day. 

The  latest  addition  to  London's  play- 
houses is  the  newly-built  Socialists' 
Theatre,  which  will  start  its  activities 
on  Monday  next  with  the  production 
of  An  Enemy  of  the  People,  The  build- 
ing is  constructed  throughout  of  steel 
and  asbestos,  ?o  as  to  render  it  suitable 
as  a  meeting  place  for  conferences,  etc. 
All  the  seats  are  equal  in  price,  with 
the  exception  of  the  first  tier  boxes, 
which  have  been  equipped  with  l:omb- 
Di-oof  safety  curtains  capable  of  being 
owered  at  will  by  tho  occupants,  thus 
providing  absolute  security  for  Labour 
eaders  visiting  the  entertainment. 

The  Theatre  of  the  Advanced  Synibo- 
ists,  opened  last  evening,  is  said  to  be 
ihe  first   of   its  kind   in  Europe,    and 
:mbodies   all   the   latest   views   of   its 
.special    patrons.      Suggestion    rather 
.ban  physical  comfort  has  been  the  chief 
result  aimed  at,  the  seats,  designed  on 
he  cubist  system,   being  so  arranged 
hat  an  interrupted  view  of  the  stage 
s  permitted  from  all.     The  initial  pro- 
gramme consisted  of  the  first  perform- 
ance  of    the    new    Symbolist    drama 
entitled  What  ?  and  gave  the  highest 
pleasure  to   a  distinguished   audience. 
Silence  and  complete  darkness  prevailed 
oth  in  the  auditorium  and  on  the  stage, 
t  was  unfortunate  that,  owing  to  the 
areless  duplication  of  the  title  on  the 
•ills,  the  masterpiece  should  have  been 
dvertised  as  What,  What  !  thus  creat- 
ng  a  misapprehension  as  to  its  char- 
cter,  which  explained  the   arrival  of 
everal    parties    really  bound    for   the 

>stprandial   Theatre   next    door,  and 

regrettable  display  of  feeling  when 
heir  mistake  became  clear  to  them, 
s  apart,  however,  the  evening  was  a 
eserved  success. 

Notices  of  the  performances  of  Money 
t  the  new  Financiers'  Theatre  in 
3opthall  Avenue,  and  The  Odonto  Girl 
efore  the  Society  of  Incorporated 
dentists,  are  unavoidably  held  over. 


DECEMBER  17.  1013.]  PUNCH,    Oil    TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


513 


THE    APATHY    OF     ENGLAND. 

(To  the  l-IJilor  of  "  Punch.") 
Sin, — As  ono  of  years,  authority,  and 
high  ideals,  devoted  to  golf,  the  Dobleal 
of  all  pursuits,  I  beg  permission  to 
protest  against  the  deplorably  apathetic 
and  frivolous  attitude  evinced  by  my 
countrymen  towards  tlio  game  in  these 
days.  I  call  it  a  game,  but  in  reality 
it  is  more  than  that.  Nor  is  it  merely 
to  bo  compared  with  a  trade  or  pro- 
fession, for  in  the  heart  of  the  true 
golfer  it  arouses  a  purer  and  more 
exalted  enthusiasm.  Clearly,  it  stands 
in  a  category  by  itself. 

Now  this  apathy,  this  lack  of  in- 
terest, must  bo  apparent  to  all.  Take 
for  example  tho  space  allotted  by  the 
Press  to  an  event  of  such  historic  and 
national  importance  as  a  British  or 
American  Open  Championship.  Do 
wo  not  find  it  passed  over  in  as  few 
columns  as  might  suffice  for  tbe 
trifling  matter  of  a  pronouncement  by 
a  leading  member  of  the  Government? 
Instead  of  enjoying  an  exhaustive  de- 
tailed description  and  criticism  of  every 
stroke  played  by  every  competitor,  we 
have  to  be  content  with  a  brief  resume 
incorporating  tho  more  ssnsational  in- 
cidents. But  tliU  is  not  my  solo  com- 
plaint. Golfing  news  from  day  to  day 
is  disgracefully  microscopic.  We  find 
oven  prominent  newspapers  publishing 
only  one  descriptive  or  didactic  article 
per  week  on  the  various  aspects  and 
difficulties  of  the  game,  instead  of  what 
is  clearly  demanded— a  regular  daily 
article.  When,  therefore,  I  see  the 
Press  paying  so  scant  a  regard  to  golf, 
I  am  not  surprised  at  the  indifference 
of  the  public. 

They  do  not  take  the  game  seriously. 
It  occupies  a  second,  third,  or  even 
lower  place  in  the  order,  of  their  pur- 
suits. They  expend  upon  it  a  few 
meagre  hours  of  leisure;  they  will 
frivol  away  half  a  day,  sometimes  even 
a  whole  day,  at  the  office ;  linger  over 
their  luncheon  ;  loiter  at  the  club.  And 
this  is  not  all.  Spendthrifts  of  their 
time,  they  are  niggards  with  their 
money.  I  have  heard  of  one  golfer, 
indeed,  who  unblusbingly  declared  that 
he  spent  only  £200  a  year  upon  the 
game.  Few,  perhaps,  can  emulate  un- 
friend A.,  who  has  cheerfully  sacrificed 
fortune,  worldly  ambition,  and  the  joys 
and  comforts  of  family  life  to  the 
ardour  of  his  master^passion. 

I  desire  to  appeal  to  all  exponents  of 
this  great  art  to  correct  their  deplorable 
habits  of  Isvity  and  slothfulness;  to 
wean  themselves  from  the  luxury  of 
business  and  other  distractions ;  to 
realise  tho  pressing  necessity  for  self- 
sacritic3.  They  should  also  conquer 
their  foolish  reticence  and  talk  more 


STRICT    GOLF. 

"HEBE,   WHY  DON'T  YOU   COME  ASD  HELP  TO  LOOK  FOR  MY   BALL?' 
"SlIOW   ME  THE   11ULE  THAT  SAYS   I  *VE   GOT  TO." 


freely  on  golfing  topics.  The  benefits 
to  be  derived  from  airing  a  subject  in 
conversation  are  inestimable ;  and 
golfers  are  noticeably  backward  in  this 
particular. 

And  then  there  is  the  duty  owed  to 
their  children.  I  cannot  overestimate 
the  need  for  impressing  youthful  minds 
with  the  vital  significance  of  golf ;  that 
they  may  learn  to  approach  it  in  a 
more  earnest  and  respectful  spirit.  The 
humorous  and  ironical  attitude  in- 
creasingly manifest  among  caddies, 
too,  is  greatly  to  bs  regretted.  It  is, 
however,  but  another  of  those  evils 
which  must  be  attributed  to  the 
lamentable  lack  of  ssriousness  on  the 
part  of  golfers  themselves. 

In  golf  the  pre-eminence  of  Britain 
is  already  questioned.  Other  Ouimets 
may  ariss.  Soon  we  may  descend  from 
a  plus  to  a  scratch  or  minus  power. 


With  this  warning,  Sir,  I  must  con- 
clude ;  only  hoping  that  the  country 
will  be  awakened  to  a  more  patriotic 
spirit,  a  loftier  and  sterner  enthusiasm, 
before  it  is  too  late. 

Yours,  &c.,      BUNKER  MASHIB. 

"Last  night  great  beams  of  light  shot 
slantingly  upwards  from  tho  earth,  as  if  they 
proceeded  from  a  mighty  lantern  which  had 
been  discovered  somewhere  about  Kom-cl- 
Shogafa,  and  which  Cyclops  or  some  huge 
prehistoric  cave  dweller  had  seized  with  his 
great  hands  and  swinging  it  about  his  head, 
caused  the  rays  of  light,  miles  long,  to  strike 
athwart  tho  sky,  crossing  and  rccrossing  each 
other  incessantly,  now  forming  themselves 
into  wonderful  diapers,  anon  clashing  with 
and  lighting  up  tho  fleeting  clouds,  giving 
curious,  f.mt.istic  shapes,  whiles,  as  a  crouch- 
ing gladiator,  then  as  of  an  archer  with  his 
bow,  and  presently  as  of  a  Jack  Tar  stepping 
'  Jack's  a  Lad '  atop  o'  tho  giddy  mast." 

Egyptian  Gazette. 

Actually  the  Fleet  had  just  arrived. 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEE  17,  1913. 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

"  THE  NIGHT  HAWK.'' 
I  HAVE  never  quite  understood  whs- 
it  should  he  more  difficult  to  rise  from 
hod  at  one  hour  than  another,  if  you 
have  had  your  lull  allowance  of  sleep. 
Yet  this  appears  to  he  a  law  of  depraved 
human  nature,  and  against  it  the  lion. 
James  Daitbi'iitii/  had  fought  in  vain. 
In  the  end  lie  had  given  up  the  struggle 
to  rise  hefore  luncheon,  and  only  got 
up  in  time  for  dinner,  going  straight 
from  his  hath  into  his  evening  clothes. 
This  habit  of  turning  night  into  day- 
is  one    that    moralists    have    ever    de- 
plored.    Yet  I  have  known  editors  of 
great  daily  journals  who  have  followed 
it  without  visible  loss  of  moral  fibre; 
and  the  night-porter  of  my  Hat,  if  his 
inward  graces  are  at  all  commensurate 
with  his  manly  exterior,  is  a  spiritual 
stalwart.     But  what  is  permissible  and 
even  admirable  in   the  slave  of  duty 
may,  in  the  case  of  a  lover  of  pleasure, 
he  matter  for  the  gravest  reprobation. 
If  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  vice,  I 
hope,  is  equally  its  own  punishment. 
Not  that  there  was  anything  traceably 
"vicious  in  the  character  of  Daubenaij , • 
but  we  were  allowed  to  conjecture  un- 
utterable things  from  the  character  of 
his  associates  of  the  Night  Hawk  Club. 
Of  the  actual  habits  of  this  nocturnal 
bird  of  prey  from  which  the  club  drew 
its  symbolic  name  I  know  absolutely 
nothing  ;  but  a  less  seductive  crew  than 
the    vulgarian    females    who    used   to 
sweep  into  Daubenay's  flat  by  night  on 
a  whirlwind  of  noisy  banality,  I  can- 
not   easily    imagine.       Certainly    the 
authors  of  the  play  have  done  their 
public  no  moral  damage  by  making  vice 
too  picturesque. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  stupid  orgy 
there  entered  one  night  a  young  girl 
from  the  country,  a  veritable  dream  ol 
stage  innocence.     Prom  that  moment, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  play,  our  gifts 
of  credulity  were  taxed  almost  beyond 
endurance.    We  were  invited  to  believe 
that  this  prim  little  thing  had  come  up 
to  town  for  the  day;  had  lost  her  rustic 
escort   ill  a  Trafalgar   Square  crowd; 
had  then  gone  to  look  up  her  divorced 
mother  at  her  old  address  (for,  though 
they   were  on   terms   of  secret   inter- 
course, this  unnatural  parent  had  not 
confided  to  her  daughter  her  change  of 
residence);    and  was  now  anxious  to 
consult  the  present  occupant  of  the  flat 
as  to  the  next  thing  to  be  done.     Moved 
to    respectful    sympathy,    Danbenay, 
instead  of  putting  her  into   the  last 
train  for  home,  insists  on  conducting 
her  there  in  his  motor.     Safely  arrived, 
he  is  captured  by  the  girl's  infuriated 
father— a    man    with    an    iron    heart 
and  a  stout  cudgel— and  detained  on 


suspicion.  It  was  now  that  our  simp] 
faith  underwent  its  worst  strain.  Fo 
the  stern  father  compelled  Dnitbcnai/ 
under  threat  of  the  stick  for  himse" 
and  banishment  for  the  girl;  to  remai 
indefinitely  on  the  premises,  earnin 
his  feed  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  T 
have  seen  this  scion  of  the  uristocrac 
employed  in  the  menial  labour  o 
polishing  harness  in  his  evening  clothes 
with  a  little  casual  accommodation  fron 
the  local  wardrobe,  would  have  meltei 
the  heart  of  a  LLOYD  GEORGE. 

After  this  it  was  relatively  easy  ti 
believe  that  the  hero  would  he  trackei 
by  his  Society  friends  to  the  scene  of  hi 
alleged  "rest  cure"  and  ho  whisked  of 
in  their  car;  that  the  innocent  girl 
exiled  by  her  Spartan  sire,  wouli 
appear  again  at  Daubenay's  flat  in  tin 
middle  of  an  orgy  identical  with  tha 
of  the  first  Act,  but  this  time  hersel 
in  the  gay  attire  of  a  Night  Hawk,  so 
as  to  compete  on  level  terms  witl 
the  other  ladies  of  the  club;  and  so 
would  win  his  honourable  love  by 
those  charms  which  innocence  in  the 
garb  of  vico  always  exerts  upon  the 
jaded  senses  of  the  roue  of  the  footlights 
It  will  be  guessed  that  it  needet 
some  pretty  good  acting  to  carry  off  a 
plot  like  that.  Mr.  KENNETH  DOUGLAS, 
on  whose  almost  unaided  shoulders  fell 
the  task,  came  very  near  to  achieving 
it.  He  was  practically  never  off  the 
stage,  and  played  with  an  extraordinary 
fluency  and  that  natural  humour  oi 
which  he  is  so  accomplished  a  master. 
Whether  as  a  night-bird  with  no 
particular  taste  for  the  game,  or  as  a 
man  of  ease  compelled  to  undergo  the 
grossest  manual  labour,  and,  subduing 
his  Olympian  habit,  like  Apollo  in  the 
demesne  of  Admetus, 

6r\a<rav  rpairefav  alvitrai,   6fos  itfp  & 

or  as  a  Londoner  suffering  the  horrors 
of  the  countryside  with  its  deadly  noises 
of  awakening  nature,  he  was  always 
quietly  equal  to  the  occasion.  Miss 
JANE  COOPER'S  pleasant  angularity, 
proper  to  the  part  of  rural  innocence, 
made  an  agreeable  contrast  to  Mr. 
KENNETH  DOUGLAS'S  mature  facility 
of  style.  Mr.  FISHER  WHITE,  as  the 
farmer-tyrant,  demonstrated  with  the 
most  unflinching  resolution  how  the 
strongest  religious  convictions  may  be 
compatible  with  a  total  disregard  for 
human  charity. 

I  shall  excuse  myself  from  particular 
reference  to  the  remainder  of  the  cast, 
except  to  say  that  Mr.  STAFFORD 
HILLIARD,  as  Daubenay's  man,  whose 
personal  health  and  private  convenience 
suffered  badly  from  the  irregularity  of 
bis  master's  mode  of  life,  bore  it  all 
with  a  most  touching  stoicism. 

The  humour  of  the  play  lies  more  in 
he  situations  than  the  dialogue ;  but  a 


pleasant  vein  of  fun  runs  through  the 
talk,  in  which  I  gratefully  acknowledge 
the  absence  of  imported  epigrams.  My 
programme,  which  is  very  specific  about 
the  origin  of  the  furniture,  the  motor- 
hats,  the  plate,  and  the  gramophone, 
omits  to  give  a  definition  of  the  genus 
of  Messrs.  WORRALL  and  MEHIVALE'S 
play;  so  you  may  define  it  as  you 
will.  It  is  a  blend  of  comedy  and  farce, 
too  incredible  to  be  purely  the  one  and 
not  boisterous  enough  to  bo  purely  the 
other.  But  the  mixture  will  serve,  if 
you  are  not  too  exigent.  O.  8. 


TPIE  MAN  BEHIND  THE  FACE. 

MY  old  acquaintance,  William  Jones 

Is  not  a  handsome  man, 
The  physiognomy  he  owns 
Is  wandering  in  its  plan  ; 
Sonic  careless  person  must  have  let 
His  features  run  ere  they  had  set. 

It  would  be  difficult  to. lay 
One's  finger,  I  suppose, 
On  any  special  spot  and  say, 

"  Look,  that  is  William's  nose  ;  " 
One  could  but  state,  '•  'Tis  somewhere 

here 
The  nasal  organ  should  appear." 

His  general  expression,  too. 
Betrays  a  vagueness  such 
As  very  seldom  meets  the  view 

Outside  a  rabbit  hutch  ; 
At  times  he  almost  lias  the  air 
Of  one  who  is  not  wholly  there. 

Noi  once,  nor  twice,  but  oft  have  I 

Heard  strangers  in  the  street, 
When  William  Jones  was  passing  by, 

Exclaim  with  sudden  heat : 
That  man  at  large  should  never  roam, 
lis  proper  place  is  in  a  home." 

Alas  !  the  superficial  gaze, 
How  powerless  it  seems 
To  thread  the  soul's  interior  maze, 

Where  genius  broods  and  dreams  ! 
'hey  err  who  think  that  Jones  is  what 
The  world  calls  barmy;  he  is  not. 

Forbear  to  scoff,  look  not  askance 

On  William,  for  behind 
That  unimpressive  countenance 

Lurks  a  colossal  mind ; 
n  fact,  fame  whispers  it  was  he 
Vho  patented  the  Tango  Tea. 

The  Modern  Cinderella. 
'  If  the  Jady  who  lost  a  black  silk  stocking 
the    dance   on    Wednesday    evening  will 
ommunicato  with  Box  A.,  Saskatoon  Daily 
tar,  said  loss  can  be  recovered." — Adrt. 


When  the  crew  went  on  board  the  vessel 
esterday   morning  they  discovered  she   was 
under  the  water."— Daili/  Mail. 

No  doubt  their  wet  feet  gave  them  the 
clue,  but  they  must  have  thought  the 
boat  looked  rather  funny  from  the  shore. 


DKCKMHKR  17,  1913.  ] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LON  DON   C 1 1 A I !  1 V  A I !  I . 


517 


Conductor  of  Village  Band.  "  WHAT  's  vrnoxo,  DUNCAN  ?  " 

Duncan  ('celluist).  "Tan  DRUM'S  BEES  PLAYIS'  MA  MUSIC  AXD  I'VE  IJEES  PLAVIS*  nig." 

Ccnluctor.  "I  THOCHT  THERE  WAS  SOMETHING  NO  JUST  QUITE  RIGHT." 


nun     n/i/M/iM/t  r^cTrioc  I  'n  a  fa'r'y  satisfactory  position  as  regards  naval  supremacy. 

OUR    BOOKING-OFHOE.  Bufc  ifc  was  touch  ant]  KO-     \ye  could  manage  France  all 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.)  \  right,  but  France  and  Jack — it  does  not  bear  thinking  of. 

ALL  the  time  I  was  reading  Mr.  FRANK  HARRIS'S  Great  jTo  sum  up,  a  good,  bustling  yarn  which  kept  me  enter- 
Days  (THE  BODLKY  HEAD)  I  was  wondering  where  I  had  tained  from  start  to  finish,  and  will  have,  I  guarantee,  a 

'"        '     "--  -i--1-    similar  effect  on  others  who  believe  in  fairies. 


come  across  an  earlier  story  written   in  the  same  style. 

Then  I  realised.     Great  Days  is  just  like  the  fairy  stories 

of  my  childhood,  where  the  King's  youngest  son  goes  out  to  .    Mrs.  WHARTON'S  new  satire,  The  Custom 

seek  his  fortune.     Like  the  writers  of  the  fairy  stories,  Mr.   (MACMILLAN),  suffers,  I  think,  from  the  bitterness  of  her 

HARRIS  takes  it  for  granted  that  we  shall  be  interested  in   indignation.     In  an  earlier  novel,  The  House  of  Mirth,  she 

the  smallest  details  of  his  hero's  career,  however  little  they  showed  her  fierce  intolerance  of  the  restless,  grasping  spirit 

may  have  to  do  with  the  main  theme  or  the  development  of  jot  some  part  of  the  New  York  world,  but  with  that  fierce- 

his  character;  and,  for  myself,  I  must  admit  that  he  is  not  ness  there  were  mingled  pity  and  even  tenderness.    I  Bad  r 


mistaken.  I  became  so  interested  in  Jack  Morgan  that 
I  welcomed  the  information  that  he  drank  hot  water  at 
night  after  an  evening  at  the  inn,  so  as  to  avoid  a  headache 

i« ,  .  i       t  •  _    t__: 3  _ 


pity  or  tenderness  in  her  new  chronicle.  There  is  in  the 
quality  of  her  work  the  hard,  shining,  metallic  glitter  of 
an  American  railway-line.  Undine,  the  heroine,  passing 


next  morning,  and  that  he  gave  a  little  dinner  to  two  friends,   from  stage  to  stage,  from  husband  to  husband   trampling 
beginning  with  oysters  and  Sauterne,  and  was  amused  to  remorselessly  as  she  goes  upon  all  those  who   lave  helpec 


find  that  one  of  his  guests  thought  the  white  wine  too  thin. 
But  Jack's  career  was  not  confined  to  these  trivialities. 
Belonging  to  the  great  days  that  followed  the  French  Revo- 
lution, and  being  by  profession  a  smuggler  and  privateers- 


lier,  is,  at  the  last,  inhuman  in  her  lack  of  contrast.  Mrs. 
WHARTON  hates  her  so  deeply  that  she  will  allow  her  no 
suspicion  of  human  feeling  or  human  softness.  I  failed, 
therefore,  to  realise  that  the  gentle  first  husband  and  the 


man,  he  lived  a  very  vivid  life  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel,  courteous  second  one  would  have  fallen  at  her  feet.     Some- 
Mr.  HARRIS  has  tho  admirable  virtue  of  not  being  afraid  to  thing  more  of  her  than  physical  beauty  those  men  would 

_  _  .  _    _1 JI  _  ,1      . .  , .    1    ™.    .«  . .  t  I >  i . <  <r  >  .  1 1  \  fit     «uk«*M  n  r\a      c\\£*    1 1  -I  i  I    •     Mil  r, 


make  his  hero  a  real  hero. 


..~«.     When  Jack  is  not  running  :  have  demanded,  and  something  more,  perhaps,  she  had;  but 

clrgoesTf  oldln-aWly7be  ^"passing  through  passionate  love  |  Mrs.   WHARTON  will  not  reveal  it  to  us.     So  with  it  all. 
adventures,  thrashing  bullies  or  capturing  frigates.     The  The  miserable  side  of  human  nature,  t  ho  degraded  selfi 
culminating  point  of  his  exciting  life  is  where  the  great  instincts  of  society—  these  are  emphasise!    The  book,  with 


culminating  point 
BUONAPARTE  himself  otters  him  supreme  command  of  the 
French  Navy  if  ho  will  sweep  the  English  off  the  seas,  as 
he  has  expressed  himself  able  to  do.  Fortunately,  Jack's 
patriotism  is  greater  than  his  ambition,  and  England  is  still 


all  its  cleverness,  lacks  justice,  and  therefore  truth.  Here  the 
artist,  driven  forward  by  her  contemptuous  disgust,  paints 
her  picture  in  dark,  sombre  colours,  and  has  too  readily 
allowed  personal  prejudice  to  darken  her  vision.  Once 


513 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  17,  1913. 


a  lady  called  Becky  Sharp  dazzled,  hoodwinked,  tricked  the 
London  world.  She  was,  I  dare  say,  a  wickeder  woman 
limn  Mrs.  WHAHTOX'S  Undine,  but  her  historian  was,  in 
spite  of  himself,  fair  to  her.  Mrs.  WHAUTON  is  never  fail- 
to  her  victim.  The  brilliance  of  the  hook  remains;  whether 
it  he  finance,  social  contrasts,  the  Old  World  or  the  New, 
French  chateaux  or  American  hotels,  Mrs.  WHAKTON'S 
talent  can  most  ably  reveal  them  for  us ;  hut  it  is  a  hard 
and  a  cruel  revelation. 


I  did  not  see  The  Witness  for  tJia  Defence  (IIoDDEK  AND 
STOUGHTON)  in  its  previous  incarnation  as  a  play  at  the 
St.  James's  Theatre.  Hitherto  I  have  always  regretted 
this,  but  I  hope  Mr.  A.  E.  W.  MASON  will  not  misunder- 
stand me  when  I  say  that  my  regret  is  now  banished.  The 
reason  is  that  I  hava  been  able  to  approach  the  book  with 
an  appreciation  unhampered  by  thoso  worrying  memories 
of  the  theatre  about  which  I  have  spoken  before  in  similar 
cases.  As  a  result  I  have  enjoyed  it  greatly.  The  rule  is 
that  good  plays  do  not  make  good  novels,  though  authors 


has  a  thoroughly  sound  idea  that  the  kind  of  fact  that  il 
is  not  important  to  know  about  London  is  that  on  a  very 
clear  day  one  may  havo  a  view  of  the  Crystal  Palace  if  one 
looks  straight  down  Bouverio  Street.  The  Sago  who  lives 
in  this  sacred  congested  thoroughfare  has  never  noticed  it 
and,  like  Mr.  ADCOCK,  doesn't  want  to.  An  index  makes 
this  little  volume  a  lazily  convenient  occasion  of  happy 


reminiscence. 


are  slow  to  believe  this, 
and  perhaps  the  fact  of 
getting  double  profit  out  of 
one  idea  does  not  serve  to 
quicken  their  apprehension. 
Anyhow,  I  am  glad  to  find 
The  Witness  for  the  Defence 
a  triumphant  exception.  It 
makes  quite  a  good  novel, 
picturesque,  alive  and  con- 
vincing In  one  way  the 
story  has  gained  much  by 
its  liberation  from  dramatic 
fetters  We  are  now  enabled  i 
to  see  something  more  of 
tho  previous  relationship 
between  Thresk  and  Stella, 
and  this  greatly  helps  the 
grip  of  the  subsequent  de- ! 
velopments.  You  probably 
know  what  these  are.  A 
story  does  not  enjoy  a  sue- ' 
cessful  run  in  the  West-End, 
and  goodness  knows  how 
many  provincial  tours,  and  |^£±L?? 
retain  much  of  the  charm ' 


What  a  passion  for  untempered  veracity  seems  to  have 
taken  hold  of  our  novelists !  The  latest  professor  of  the 
system  of  withholding  nothing  is  Mr.  WILLIAM  HEWLETT, 
whose  new  novel,  Telling  the  Truth  (SECKER),  sufficiently 
explains  its  character  by  its  title.  In  his  introductory  pages 
Mr.  HEWLETT  almost  vehemently  protests  that  no  considera- 
tion shall  prevent  him  from  giving  us  the  facts,  oven  if,  like 
GALILEO,  lie  shall  "suffer  the  penalty  of  public  condemna- 
tion." Eeally  I  don't  think  he  need  have  worried.  These 
devoted  truth-tellers  always  a  little  remind  me  of  the  hero 
of  DICKENS'S  Holiday  Romances,  who  "  fought  his  desperate 


of  mystery.  Still,  Mr.  MASON  and  his  publishers  were  no 
doubt  right  in  supposing  that  you  would  care  to  hear  a 
ttle  more  intimately  about  the  characters,  and  "their  whys 
and  wherefores."  And  to  the  benighted  who,  like  rnvself, 
have  not  met  them  before,  I  would  say,  Do  it  Now. 

In  The  BooJclovcr's  London  (METHUEN)  Mr.  A   ST  JOHN 
ADCOCK  sets  out  on  a  pleasant  gossipy  round  of'  the  town 
the  track  of  characters  out  of  his  favourite  imaginative 
literature,  from  BEN  JONSON  to  GEOBGE  GISSING      I  am 
afraid  I  suspect  him  of  a  little  self-deception  when  he  nfo- 
that  m  this  or  that  place  the  imaginary  folk  throng 
•out  him  and  are  more  real  than  the  whistling  errand- 
x>ys  and  pompous,  rotund  merchants  who  are  there  in 
actual  prosa.c  fact.     It  may,  of  course,  be  even  so.     More 
eel)    tis  a  harmless  device  to  put  his  spirits  in  key  for  his 
'      "^    "  JUS     6Cl      '  itS  entirel'  --5  resul 


Onet  re>'  --ae  resu 

One  of  these  is  to  send  you  from  the  quotations  witli  which 
the  book  is  freely  embellished  back  to  the  originals  to  renew 
their  acquaintance.  And  that,  no  doubt,?  one  of  S 

ithor  s  benevolent  purposes.     The  chief  of  them  I  guess 
was  to  please  himself  by  indulging  a  hobbv-whichTs  no 

i  way  of  giving  pleasure  to  other  people. 


way   hand  to  hand  to  the 
lane,"  being  "so  fortunate 
as  to  meet  nobody."     Be- 
cause, despite  an  occasional 
much-proclaimed  movement 
of  the  libraries,  no  one  is 
really     very     greatly    con- 
cerned   to    interfere     with 
them.     Anyhow,  the  truth 
about  Mr.  HEWLETT'S  cen- 
tral figure  is  that  he  was  a 
cad ;    that  he  was  a  senti- 
mental egoist  as  well  does 
not   alter  this  primal   fact 
about  him.    After  a  boyhood 
during  which  his  character 
causes  a  good  deal  of  well- 
founded   uneasiness  to  the 
authorities,   he   runs  away 
from    home    and    becomes 
first  an  actor,  then  (sounding 
deeper  depths)    a    popular 
novelist.    It  is  in  this  capa- 
city, as  the  idol  of  society, 
that    he    is    brought    into 
contact  with  his  soul-mate, 
who  is,  as  you  might  expect,  already  the  wife  of  another. 
Honestly,  what  I  think  must  have 'been  the  matter  with 
Hugh  Middlecomb  was  a  too-fervent  admiration  for  the 
heroes  of  Messrs.  H.  G.  WELLS  and  COMPTON  MACKENZIE. 
This  may  explain  his  taking  his  bruised  spirit  to  Cornwall 
in  the  final  book,  and  thus  giving  his  own  author  the  oppor- 
tunity for  some  pleasant  descriptive  writing.   To  be  fair,  the 
story  has  also  some  good  passages  of  stage  and  journalistic 
life  ;  but,  on  tho  whole,  I  hardly  found  myself  in  agreement 
with  Mr.  HEWLETT  about  its  importance. 

From  an  account  of  an  E.S.P.C.A.  prosecution  in  The 
Liverpool  Evening  Express  : — 

"Mr.  J.  B.  Marston,  of  Mold,  defended,  and  stated  that  tho  mare 
long  with  ethers  was  travelling  to  Chester,  when  a  motor  passed 
and  scared  all  tho  horses,  which  jumped  about,   and  the  mare  in 
question  got  knocked  down  and  thus  received  the  injury. 

A  large  body  of  evidence  was  called  for  the  defence.''1 
This  would  no  doubt  be  the  body  of  the  mare,  the  animal 
having  been  destroyed  previous  to  the  police  court  proceed- 
ings. (Our  contemporary's  actual  words  are  "  tho  Mayor 
was  destroyed,"  but  no  doubt  its  reporter  rot  a  wren* 
imniv,^;™  ~f  ,,,v,^  u,j  happened). 


Professional  Palmist  (absently).  "THE  MOUNT  OF  JUPITEB  is  IVE- 

MAIIKABLY    DEVELOPED.      IT    DENOTES    AN    EXCESSIVE    LOVE    OF    TOWEH, 
AND  EXTBEME   EGOTISM." 


DKCEMHEK  24,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CIIAIUVAIir. 


519 


CHARIVARIA. 

Tin;  Emperor  MKNKLIK  has  died 
again.  Ho  never  quite  rallied  from 
Iris  previous  deaths. 

The  KAIKEU'S  dislike  of  the  Tango  is 
well-known.  His  Majesty,  who  has 
recently  been  suffering  from  a  cold,  has 
now  insisted  on  the  CIIOWN  PRINCE 
ceasing  to  be  a  Danzig  man. 

Seizures  of  rifles  continue  to  bo  made 
in  Ulster.      It  is   said    that   the 
Government  intend,  if  they  catch 
suilicient,    to   re-arm    our   Terri- 
torials with  'them. 

Wo  understand  that  not  only  is 
there  to  be  no  postal  strike  just 
now,  but  the  men  do  not  even 
propose  to  show  their  dissatisfac- 
tion with  present  conditions  by 
refusing  to  accept  Christmas 
boxes.  ...  * 

A  Norwood  lady  has  left  £800 
in  Consols  to  her  dog.  This  is  a 
striking  commentary  on  the  loss 
of  prestige  suffered  by  what  was 
once  our  premier  security. 

A  pathetic  incident  is  reported 
in  connection  with  the  purchase 
of  the  Duke  of  BEDFORD'S  Covent 
Garden  estate.  "  Had  I  known," 
said  an  aged  and  wealthy  burglar, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  that  Bow 
Street  Police  Court  was  for  sale 
I  would  have  bought  the  thing  my- 
self and  razed  it  to  the  ground." 


From  New  York  comes  a  talc  of  the 
sale  of  a  husband  for  a  gold  bracelet. 
As  a  husband  ourselves  wo  are  pleas- 
antly surprised  to  learn  that  wo  still 
have  a  value.  Heaven  grant  that  the 
bracelet  was  not  of  rolled  gold  ! 
::;  i  -: 

We  have  noticed  as  part  of  the  Christ- 
mas window  display  in  a  number  of 
shops  a  fall  of  snow  with  exactly  the 
same  distance  between  each  flake  and 
its  neighbours.  This  well-drilled  snow 
must  come,  we  fancy,  from  Germany. 


A   HOUSEHOLD   BOON. 

"Bi'T  how  cm  I  toll  you  of  anything 
1  want,"  said  Philip  peevishly,  "  when 
I've  got  two  of  even  thing,  except 
razors,  and  seven  of  those,  three  safeties 
and  four  ordinary  ones?" 

"  Hut  aren't  there  any  little  patent 


contrivances   I   could    give 
make    for    man's    comfort 


you 

and 


that 
con- 


"  The  various   leaseholders  on 
the  estate,"  says  The  Pall  Malll 
Gazette,  "  were   unaware  of   the  i 
transaction     until     it     wasj 
announced  in  the  Press,  but  they  |   / 
will,  of  course,  remain  unaffected." 
Certainly  if  they  weren't  affected 
when   they    had    a    Duke  for  a 
landlord  it  is  unlikely  that  they 
will  put  on  airs  when  his  place 
is,  taken  by  a  Commoner. 


After  the  recent  confusion  between 
the  names  of  the  two  plays,  Love  and 
Laughter  and  The  Laughing  Husband, 
we  are  not  surprised  that  a  muddle- 
headed  friend  of  ours  should  have 
asked  us  the  other  day  whether  we  had 
seen  Wu  's  the  Lady  ?  " 
* ,  * 

JACK  JOHNSON'S  motor-car  ran  into  a 
gate  at  a  level  crossing  near  Montreuil 
last  week,  and  the  negro  boxer  was 
badly  punished  about  the  head.  The 
gate,  it  is  said,  is  to  be  adorned  with 


First  Urchin.  "  Yus,  I  oni-wi'S  BBS  ONE  o'  THESE  'ERE 
SHOWS  IS  WOETH  ' ABF-A-VOZEH  OF  THE  OLD  PUNCH  AND 
JUDYS." 


venience '!  "  pleaded  Muriel. 

"Oh,  plenty,"  lie  replied.  "A  jmtent 
bootlace,  for  instance,  that  does  itself 
up;  a  patent  letter-answerer,  or  a 
patent  razor  that  shaves  me  while 
1  sleep.  Those  are  the  only  kind 
of  things  I  should  find  useful,  ;'/" 
you  could  yet  them." 

Muriel  stared  at  the  fire  and 
deliberated. 

"Very  well,"  she  said  hope- 
fully. "  I  "11  see  what  I  can  do." 

On  Christmas  morning  Philip 
found  a  so!t  parcel  by  his  plate 
and  Muriel  looking  at  him  with 
suppressed  emotion. 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  is  a  patent 
contrivance  which  guarantees  you 
a  good  start  for  every  day  and 
adds  to  the  happiness  of  the 
whole  household  in  consequence 
— is  that  the  kind  of  thing  you 
wanted?  " 

"  Just,"  said  Philip,  smiling 
incredulously  as  he  drew  forth 
about  four  yards  of  green  silk 
cord.  "  But  how  does  it  work  ?  " 

"  You  stretch  it  along  one  side 
of  your  bed,  from  the  head  to  the 
foot." 

"  What  for?" 

"  Stops  you  getting  out  the 
wrong  side !  " 

More  Schoolboy  Howlers. 
From  a  paper  on  MILTON  : — 
"Milton  wrote  Thomas  Antagonist. 
Amaryllis  is  a  name  given  to  Milton's 
Tutor  at  Cambridge." 


the  inscription, 
JOHNSON." 


'  I  knocked  out  JACK 


We  hear  that,  since  the  return  of  the 
prodigal  "  Monna  Lisa,"  other  female 
portraits    in    the   Louvre    have    been 
making  some  very  catty  remarks. 
*  * 

The  entire  Press  will  suspend  publi- 
cation on  Christmas  Day,  and  an  ap- 
peal is  made  to  events  of  importance 


"The  afternoon  hunt  from  Clove- 
wood  was  over  the  vale  to  the  Hangings, 
and  on  over  the  hill  to  Yatesbury,  where 
hounds  were  beaten." 

Those  which  escaped  the  hangings,  no 
doubt ;  but  surely  they  deserved  to  be 
spared.  __ 

"  Both  streams  are  clear  and  in  fair  order. 
Grayling  have  been  rising  at  midday." — Field. 
They  11  never  catch  the  early  worm  if 


to  make  this  experiment  a  success  by   tney  get  Up  8O  late. 
kindly  not  happening  just  then 


The    Pan  -  American   Association,   a 


Another  daring  Theft. 
Perugia  states  that  the  Louvre  has  been 


cable  tells  us,  is  considering  plans  for  i  ;n  his  room  in  Paris  for  the  past  two  years." 


the  erection  of  the  tallest  building  in  the 
world.  The  Association  evidently  does 
not  know  that  the  tallest  building  in 
the  world  has  already  been  erected. 


Can   he    not    be 


Sunday  Chronicle. 
persuaded  to   come 


over  to  England  and  steal  the  Albert 
Memorial  ? 


520 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHAE1VAKI.  [DECEMBER  24,  1913. 


THE    NEW    LORD    OF    COVENT    GARDEN. 

!Mn.  MAi.L.tiiY-DEELEy's  purchase  of  a  large  slice  of  the 
Dul.-i'  of  ]}i-:i>ronn'n  London  property  has  made  him 
tin-  Press-hero  of  the  week.] 

I  SING  to  your  superb  renown, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

Whoso  narao  like  thunder  shakes  the  Town, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

To  whose  exploit  The  Times  has  lent 

As  much  of  space  as  might  bs  spent 

Upon  a  shattering  World-Event, 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

Others  have  waked  in  quiet  beds, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

With  sudden  haloes  round  their  heads, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

But  none  of  all  historic  feats 

(Concerned  with  liquid  lucre)  beats 

Your  scoop  of  six-and-twenty  streets, 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

Alone  you  did  it,  so  you  state, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 
Unbolstered  by  a  syndicate, 

MALLABY-DEELEY  ; 

Simply,  while  walking  down  the  Strand, 
You  found  some  millions  loose  "in  hand 
And  thought  you  'd  buy  a  ilittle  land, 
......  .    .    MALLABY-DEELEY. 

A  hobby,  and,  to  you,  I  guess, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

Not  worth  recording  in  the  Press, 

MALLABY-DEELEY  ; 

You  must  have  been  surprised  to  trace 

What  was  alleged  to  be  your  face 

Advertised  all  about  the  place, 

MALLABY-DEELEY'. 

Such  is  true  greatness:  like  the  air, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

It  breathes  its  benison  unaware, 

MALLABY-DEELEY  ; 

This  princely  deed  by  which  you  won 

A  splendour  second  to  the  sun — 

You  hardly  noticed  it  was  done, 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

And,  as  you  tread  your  Covent  Mart, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 
Breaking  each  apple- woman's  heart, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

Their  flattering  notes  will  be  ignored 
When  buxom  breasts  with  one  accord 
Cry  out:  "There  goes  our  Garden's  lord," 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

Yet  every  pumpkin  I  explore, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 
Will  have  your  savour  at  its  core, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 

And  when,  to  crown  my  homely  meal, 
The  Eibston  pippin  sheds  its  peel, 
I  shall  recall  your  ducal  deal, 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 


]f  in  my  humble  stall  1  sigh, 

.  MALLABY-DEELEY, 
When  Tristan  still  declines  to  die, 

MALLABY-DEELEV, 
I  sho.ll  avci't  my  weary  view 
And  'through!  my  glasses  gaze  on  you 
Recumbent  in  the  BEDFORD  pew,  - 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

And  oh  !    to  think  the  selfsame  school, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 
Taught  me  to  serve  and  you  to  rule, 

MALLABY-DEELEY ! 

That,  while  your  fame  was  yet  a  dream, 
We  two  have  oared  the  ambient  stream 
Where  fair  Sabrina's  tresses  gleam, 

MALLABY-DEELEY. 

In  those  obscure  Salopian  days, 

MALLABY-DEELEY, 
Ilyphenless  both  we  went  our  ways, 

'•  MALLABY  DEELEY  ; 

But  if  I  met  you  now — a  god, 
And  I  the  merest  worm  (or  clod) — 
I  know  I  should  not  dare  to  nod, 

MALLABY-DEKLEY. 


O.  S. 


CHRISTMAS-   SUPERSTITIONS. 


(With  apologies  to  our  contemporaries.) 
•  NOTHING  is  more  interesting  or  (to  the  journalist  hack) 
more   profitable   than  a  comparative   study  of   the  many 
quaint  and  old-world  beliefs  concerning  the  present  festive 
season  that  still  linger  in  various  places. 

Thus  in  certain  districts  of  Northumberland  it  is  con- 
sidered very  unlucky  to  eat  crab  on  Christmas  Eve  that  has 
been  boiled  more  than  three  weeks.  If  mince-pies  be  taken 
at  the  same  meal  the  danger  is  supposed  to  be  increased. 
There  are  many  legends  of  persons  who  disregarded  this 
tradition  and  perished  miserably. 

In  some  villages  of  the  Lower  Danube  the  peasants  say 
that,  if  a  householder  takes  a  large  pail  of  dirty  water  to  his 
bedroom  and  leaves  it  all  night  upon  the  window-sill,  it 
discourages  the  Herald  Angels  from  singing  outside  his 
house  on  Christmas  Eve. 

"  The  mouth  that  is  opened  too  wide  at  Christmas  stays 
open  for  long,"  runs  a  Turkish  proverb,  based  upon  the  story 
of  the  Sultan  who  broke  five  front  teeth  on  his  plum-pudding, 
and  had  to  spend  the  next  fortnight  with  his  dentist. 

Among  the  natives  of  the  Gold  Coast  there  is  a  saying 
that,  if  a  dog  howl  all  night  on  Christmas  Eve,  a  stranger 
will  come  in  the  morning.  Curiously  enough  much  -the  same 
tradition  is  found  in  Acton  and  Baling,  with  the  difference 
that  there  the  stranger  is  the  next-door  neighbour. 

One  of  the  most  extraordinary  beliefs  to  be  found  any- 
where at  the  present  day  is  the  conviction  amongst  the 
inhabitants  of  Fleet  Street  that  Christmas  really  comes  at 
the  beginning  of  November.  The  quaint  ceremonial, 
observed  about  this  date,  of  "  Bringing  out  the  Christmas 
Number,"  is  evidence  of  this  superstition,  the  origin  of  which 
is  lost  in  the  mists  of  obscurity. 


The  Descent  of  Man. 
Latest  type  (commonly  found  in  ballrooms).— The  Orangoutangorilla. 


"During  the  evening  the  chair  of  All  Souls',  South  Hampstead, 
sang  a  few  carols." — Era. 

This  must  be  one  of  the  musical  chairs  we  have  often  heard  of. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— DKCKMUKR   24,   1913. 


SOLD    OUT. 


FATHBB  CHBISTMAS  (in  COMB*  Garden).  "GOT    ANY    HOLLY    AND    MISTLETOE    FOR    ME?" 

DUKE  OF  BEDFORD.  "SORRY,    SIR,    I'M    OFF.     NOTHING    LEFT   BUT    STRAWBERRY    LEAVES. 


DECEMBER  24,  1913.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CM  Alt  IV. MM. 


523 


MONNA    LISA" 
MAN   WHO 


AND    THE 
KNEW. 


IT  is  not  often  that  anything  happens 
in  Europe  or  America  without  liar- 
berry  getting  to  know  the  why  and 
how  of  it.  The  fall  of  a  government, 
the  crumbling  of  a  monarchy,  may  be 
due  to  causes  hidden  from  the  common 
eye,  but  not  from  Barberry's.  The 
most  impregnable  mysteries  keep  open 
house  to  Harberry.  Allow  him  time 
and  he  will  give  you  three  explanations 
of  any  one  you  name,  each  more  im- 
peccably authenticated  than  the  last, 
and  all  mutually  exclusive. 

llarberry  was,  I  believe,  the  first 
person  in  Europe — at  all  events  the 
first  innocent  person— to  know  exactly 
what  had  become  of  the  "  Monna 
Lisa"  after  her  disappearance  from  the 
Louvre.  The  thief,  it  appeared,  was — 
well,  there  was  no  need  to  name  him — 
but  he  was  a  very  high  official  among 
the  Louvre  hierarchy,  and  his  wife's 
extravagance  in  dress  was  a  by-word 
in  three  capitals.  In  the  meantime 
"it"  had  been  bought  by  an  English 
grocer. 

It  was  next  Spring  that  I  met  Har- 
berry again.  He  was  just  back  from 
New  York. 

"  Most  extraordinary  thing  about 
'  La  Gioconda,' "  he  observed  in  the 
course  of  conversation. 

"  Oh  ?  "  I  asked.   "  Anything  new  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose  you 
know  where  it  is  ?  " 

"Not  absolutely  for  certain,"  I  re- 
plied, "but  I  understood  from  you " 

"Oh,  that  story  last  September? 
That  was  only  a  dealer's  rumour.  But 
do  you  mean  to  say  they  haven't  heard 
tho  truth  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic 
yet?" 

I  intimated  that  Europe  sat  in  dark- 
ness. 

"  Why,  it  was  stolen  by  a  down- 
town gang  of  New  York  cracksmen 
for  X. — he  mentioned  a  world-famed 
multi-millionaire — and  now  he's  got 
the  thing  framed  up  in  a  little  private 
gallery  of  his  own,  and  spends  hours  a 
day  cooped  up  with  it,  simply  gazing 
at  it.  He  has  a  whole  staff  of  pri- 
vate detectives  to  watch  it ;  and  he 's 
sent  nearly  half-a-million  hush-money 
to  the  Louvre  people  to  keep  them 
quiescent." 

I  bowed  amazed  credulity.  The 
crime  of  X.  held  the  field  until  the 
Summer  of  1913. 

Meeting  Harberry  casually,  I  gleaned 
my  usual  harvest  of  first-hand  inter- 
national secrets. 

"  Anything  new  about  '  La  Gio- 
conda'?" I  asked,  when  his  confidences 
drew  to  a  close.  "I  suppose  it's  the 
most  astounding  theft — 


Mrs.  Briijgs.  "So  THEBE 's  SOT  OOISG  ro  BE  A  POSTAL  STRIKE:  AFTEB  ALT.,  Mas. 
JOHNSON." 

Mrs.  Johnson  (remembering  tli£  Coal  Strike).  "WELL,  YOU  SEVEB  CAN  TELL  BCT^WUAT 

IT  MAY   COME  AT  ANY  MOMENT  ;     BO  I   SHALL  LAY   IN   A  GOOD  STOCK  OF  ETAUP8  NOW." 


"Theft?"  thundered  Harberry. 
"  There  never  was  a  theft.  I  tell  you 
every  official  in  the  Louvre  wants 
hanging.  That  picture  never  left  the 
galleries.  They  were  trying  on  some 
new  way  of  cleaning  which  the  Curator 
thought  he  'd  invented,  and  simply 
rotted  the  surface  off  the  thing.  And 
now  the  canvas  is  lying  in  the  Depart- 
mental offices — along  with  the  missing 
parts  of  the  '  Milo ' ;  and  there  it  '11 
lie  for  evermore.  It 's  nothing  short  of 
an  international  scandal." 

It  was  a  few  days  after  the  recovery 
of  the  picture  that  I  ran  across  Har- 
bevry  once  more. 

He  seemed  a  trifle  more  subdued 
than  usual,  and,  beyond  the  compara- 
tively unimportant  fact  that  WELLS 


hod  been  drugged,  he  had  little  to 
communicate. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  tho 
Gioconda '  now  ?  "  I  was  tempted  to 
ask. 

He  came  nearer  blushing  than  I  had 
thought  possible  to  him. 

"  Think  about  it,"  he  said.  "  I  think 
it 's  a  devilish  clever  business — copied 
right  down  to  the  scratches.  But  if 
France  is  satisfied  I  suppose  the  rest  of 
the  world  has  no  right  to  complain." 


"  What  can  a  woman  do  against  a  burly- 
ruffian  who  without  any  ceremony  proceeds 
to  prise  tho  jewels  from  her  like  carbuncles 
from  a  fishing  smack?  "—Globe. 

Answer.  Explain  to  him  the  difference 
between  a  carbuncle  and  a  barnacle. 


5:2-1 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DKCEMBEB  34.  1913. 


ORGANISED    HOSPITALITY. 

IN  view  of  tho  unqualified  success  of 
tho  recent  banquets  to  M.  ANATOLE 
FKAXCH  and  Dr.  GEORGE  BISAXDES,  it 
is  proposed  to  form  a  permanent  com- 
mittee of  what  might  be  called  Enlir- 
pn  nfurs  of  Cullure,  whose  doty  it  shall 
be  from  time  to  time  to  select  foreigners 
of  distinction  worthy  of  being  feasted 
in  this  country  and  to  arrange  for  a 
fitting  ceremonial,  thus  relieving  Mr. 
EDMUND  GOSSE  of  more  hard  \vork  than 
ought  to  fall  on  any  one  man,  however 
willing  ho  may  be. 

A  preliminary  meeting  to  this  end 
was  held  last  week  at  the  Cafe  Royal, 
at  which  the  chair  was  taken  by  Sir 
SIDNEY  LEE.  After  having  outlined 
the  objects  of  the  gathering,  tho  Chair- 
man added  that  it  was  held  that  in  tho 
future  every  effort  should  ba  made  to 
avoid  what  he  might 
call  an  cmbarras  de 
richcsse,  such  as  had 
distinguished  some  re- 
cent manifestations  of 
cordiality.  It  might  not 
bo  generally  known  that, 
while  M.  ANATOLE 
FRANCE  was  in  London, 
the  great  Danish  critic, 
Dr.  GEORGE  BRANDES, 
who  had  but  just  been 
put  through  the  same 
ordeal,  was  still  with  us, 
but  wholly  in  retirement ; 
while  no  one  could  have 
helped  noticing  that 
M.  GEORGES  CARPENTIER 
was  also  gathering 
laurels  on  one  of  the 
nights  that  should  have 


to    be   hoped    so. 


know ;    but    ib   was 
(General  applause.) 

Sir  E.  KAY  LANKESTKU  rose  to  know 
if  Americans  were  to  he  included  among 
tho  guests. 

The  Chairman  said  that  that  question 
raised  a  delicate  point.  There  was  one 
writer  who,  if  he  were  still  an  American, 
would  naturally  be  tho  first  to  be  asked  ; 
but  as  no  one  quite,  knew  whether  he 
was  or  not,  and  his  own  reply  to  a 
request  for  information  left  the*  matter 
so  much  more  vague  than  before — he 
referred  to  Mr.  HKNKY  JAMES  (wild  ex- 
citement)— it  was  thought  that  for  the 
present  America  had  batter  be  excluded. 

Sir  E.  KAY  LANKESTER  said  lie 
thought  the  decision  was  a  pity  as  it 
shut  out  Mr.  SILAS  K.  HOCKING. 

Sir  WILLIAM  ROBERTSON  NICOLL  rose 
to  point  out  that  Mr.  HOCKING  was  an 
Englishman. 


THE   OLD-FASHIOSED   CHRISTMAS-CARD 
WAS  CHEEKING. 


BUT  THE   MODERN   KIND   CAN  HARDLY 
BE   DESCRIBED  AS  JOLLY. 


Mr.  JOHN  LANK  said  that  he  was 
sorry  that  ho  had  no  guest  to  propose 
M.  FRANCE  was  tho  only  superlatively 
great  French  author  on  his  list. 

Mr.  DUCKWORTH  stated  that  he  coult 
offer  no  suggestion  as  he  had  ascer- 
tained that  DOSTOIEVSKY  was  dead. 

Mr.  HEINEIIANN  said  he  did  not  see 
why  retrospective  enthusiasm  shoulc 
not  be  indulged.  After  all,  one  conic 
cat  as  good  a  dinner  to  a  great  man's 
memory  as  in  a  great  man's  presence 
He  thought  that  a  TOLSTOI  or  TOUR- 
GENIEFF  dinner  would  bo  equally  de- 
lightful. 

Sir  THOMAS  LIPTON  said  that  it  was 
a  crying  shame  that  so  many  of  the 
greatest  authors  wore  dead.  lie  would 
enormously  have  liked  to  meet  GOETHE  ; 
and  might  the  best  man  win  1  (Cheers.) 
He  could  think  of  no  name  to  suggest 
to  the  meeting. 

The  Chairman  here 
interposed  to  point  out 
that  the  purpose  of  the 
meeting  was  not  to  find 
suitable  guests,  but  to 
form  a  permanent  corn- 
mitteo  for  hospitality. 
He  would  ask  for  names 
for  that  committee. 

Omnes :  "  Sir  THOMAS 
BARCLAY."  (Cheers.) 

In  the  course  of  a  few 
stormy  hours  the  com- 
mittee was  formed,  con- 
sisting of  the  Chairman 
himself,  Sir  THOMAS 
BARCLAY,  Mr.  GOSSE  and 
Sir  JOSEPH  LYONS.  The 
meeting  then  dispersed. 


been  tho  sole  perquisite  of  M.  FRANCE. 
It  was  felt  that  such  a  deplorable  state 
of  things  must  never  occur  again.  One 
at  a  time  must  be  the  rule,  and  what- 
ever arrangements  were  made  as  to 
hospitality  they  must  always  be  con- 
ditioned by  the  programme  of  the 
National  Sporting  Club.  (Loud  a 
plause.) 

Sir  TuoMAa  BARCLAY  said  that  _. 
leader  in  The  Times  had  suggested  that 
a  dinner  was  not  the  best  form  of 
sntertainment  to  which  to  invite  these 
honoured  guests.  Speaking  from  his 
own  riot  trifling  experience  as  a  host  of 
men  of  genius,  he  could  sav  that  it  was 
(Cheers.) 

Lieut.-Col.  NEWNHAM-DAVIS  rose  to 
know  whether  there  was  likely  to  be 
any  reciprocity  in  these  matters.  Were 
corresponding  societies  being  formed  in, 
say,  Paris,  Rome,  Berlin  or  Copenhagen, 
or  the  entertainment  of  distinguished 
Englishmen?  He  asked  only  for  in- 
ormation. 

The  Chairman  said  that  he  did  not 


Sir  E.  RAY  LANKESTER.  "  Then  he 
has  no  right  to  be — not  with  a  name 
like  that !  "  (Cries  of  Order.) 

Mr.  CLEMENT  SHORTER  (author  of 
Giotto  and  his  Circle)  rose  to  ask  if  it 
were  not  possible  to  extend  the  word 
foreigner,  which  now  meant  chiefly  a 
European,  to  include  the  Scotch.  If 
so,  he  begged  to  propose  the  name  of 
Sir  WILLIAM  ROBERTSON  NICOLL  as  a 
fitting  guest  for  the  society.  It  was 
monstrous  that  so  illustrious  a  man  as 
Sir  WILLIAM  had  had  to  wait  so  long 
for  such  an  honour. 

Mr.  H.  G.  SELFRIDGE  said  that  he 
was  for  fair  play  and  no  favour.  (Cheers.) 
Having  recently  honoured  a  Dane  and 
a  Frenchman,  he  thought  we  ought  to 
look  next  to  Italy.  Wasn't  there  some 
one  named  CORELLI  ? 

Sir  CLAUDE  PHILLIPS  begged  to  sug- 
gest the  name  of  VINCENZO  PERUGIA. 
He  was  worthy  of  the  highest  honour 
for  having  shown  himself  better  able 
to  take  care  of  LEONARDO'S  "  Monna 
Lisa  "  than  the  Louvre  was. 


Further  Decline  in  the  Aristocracy. 
"A  large  row  of  pink  carls  worth  £5,000 
and  belonging  to  a  well-known  lady  of  the  old 
French  nobility  has  boon  restored  to  her." 

South  Walts  Echo. 


"  Sheriff  Fyfe  said  that  this  was  a  case  of 
garrotting,  a  form  of  crime  with  which  he  had 
no  sympathy." — Scotsman. 

Sheriff  FYFE  gives  us  the  impression  of 
a  narrow-minded  man. 


"  REECE  v.  HABVERSON. 
A  kiss  closed  Harvorson's  career  at  27." 

The  Sportsman. 

Another  promising  young  life  cut  short 
— but  what  a  romantic  end  ! 


Magisterial  Lore. 

"A  poor  mother  summoned  at  North 
London  yesterday  for  not  sending  children  to 
school  pleaded  that  she  had  a  family  of 
thirteen,  and  that  it  was  very  difficult  to  get 
them  all  ready  at  tho  proper  time. 

The  Magistrate  :  Thirteen  children.  It  is  a 
case  of  Mother  Hubbard." — Daily  News. 


Thirteen    children 
Mother  Hubbard! 


and    a   dog ; 


poor 


DECEMBER  24.  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


525 


1 


Son  of  the  House  (collaring  joyous  guest).  "Loott  HEBE,  Yon  JICS'S'T  ESJOY  YOUBSELF  AS  MUCH  AS  TIIAT! 
DAY  PABTY I  " 


THIS  is  Mr  BIBTH- 


THE    BIRD,    THE    BOUGH    AND    THE    BARD. 

(A  lievcrie  of  Bliyhtcd  Love.) 

The  moons  went  by  without  a  word 

To  ease  my  amorous  care ; 
December  brought  the  well-stuffed  bird 
But  not  the  faithless  fair. 

I  wrote.     She  answered  mo,  the  minx, 
"  Have  sworn  to  marry  H.  J.  Binka." 
Whether  she  did  I  never  heard; 
I  left  the  business  there. 


I  CANNOT  pass  the  poulterers'  shops 

And  notice  how  they  hang  them  o'er 
With  evergreens  from  brake  and  copse, 
Without  becoming  sore; 

Such  transports  to  my  mind  they  bring 
Of  bitter-sweet  remembering, 
A  savour  just  like  acid-drops 
Of  hours  that  are  no  more. 


'Twas  springtide  in  the  verdant  dell 

(The  date  I  can't  exactly  fix), 
When  I  was  courting  Amabel 
Whose  size  in  gloves  was  six ; 

Gold-haired,  I  think,  but  this  I  know — 
We  came  across  some  mistletoe 
In  a  wet  garth  where  ran  pell-mell 
A  troop  of  turkey-chicks. 

And  there  I  vowed  a  deathless  flanio, 
And  she,  the  siren,  turned  her  head, 
Swore  she  preferred  her  maiden  name, 
Then,  soltening  and  grown  red, 

"  When  yonder  bough  hangs  in  the  hall. 
When  yonder  poults  get  plump  and  fall, 
Ask  me  once  more,"  she  cooed  with  shame. 
"  Done  with  you,  girl !  "  I  said. 


But  underneath  the  Yule-tide  bough 

I  stood,  a  fool  forlorn  and  sad ; 
What  comfort  were  its  berries  now  ? 
They  simply  made  me  mad. 
Most  vile  and  parasitic  growth, 
Fit  emblem  of  a  perjured  troth  1 
I  still  got  vexed  when  thinking  how 
Supremely  I  was  had  1 

And,  when  they  twine  the  turkey's  bier 

With  golden  leaves  for  kinglihood, 
I  always  stand  and  shed  a  tear  .  .  . 
But,  having  wept  and  stood, 

I  always  smile  again ;  for,  though 
That  girl  was  false  as  mistletoe, 
Tnrkeys  I  recollect  that  year 
Were  good,  uncommon  good. 


EVOE. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  24,  1913. 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 

MY  young  friend  Bobby  (now  in  tin 
early  thirteens)  has  been  making  bis 
plans  for  the  Christinas  holidays.  Ho 
communicated  them  to  me  in  a  lettoi 
from  school : — 

"  I  am  going  to  write  an  opera  in 
the  holidays  with  a  boy  i-alir-d  Short,  a 
very  great  and  confident  friend  of  mine 
here.  I  um  doing  the  wo:ds  and  Short 
is  doing  the  music.  \Vo  have  already 
got  tho  title;  it  is  called  'Disappoint- 
ment.' " 

l.'^t  we.k,  on  his  relum  to  town,  ho 
came  to  sco  mo  at  my  club,  and  when 
iht1  \\ailer  had  brought  in  drinks,  and 
1'oMiy  hail  refused  a  cigar,  I  lighted 
up  and  prepared  to  talk  shop.  His 
recent  discovery  that  I  writo  too  leads 
him  to  treat  mo  with  more  respect  than 
formerly. 

"  Now  then,"  I  said,  "  tell  mo  about 
it.  How  's  it  going  on  ?  " 

"  Oo,  1  haven't  done  much  yet,"  said 
Bobby.     "  But  I  '\e  got  the  plot." 
"Let's  have  it." 
Bobby  unfolded  it  rapidly. 
"  Well,  you  see,  there  's  a  chap  called 
Tommy — he 's  the  hero — and  he 's  just 
come    back    from    Oxford,   and    he 's 
awfully  good-looking   and  decent  and 
all  that,  and  he's  in  love  with  Felicia, 
you  see,  and  there  'a  another  chap  called 
Eeynolds,  and,  you  see,  Felicia 's  really 
the  same  as  Phyllis,  who's  going  to 
marry    Samuel,   and   that 's    the    dis- 
appointment,  because   Tommy  wants 
to  inarry  her,  you  see." 

"  I  see.  That  ought  to  be  all  right. 
You  could  almost  get  two  operas  out 
of  that." 

"Oo,  do  you  think  so?" 
"Well,  it  depends  how  much  Eey- 
nolds comes  in.     You  didn't  tell  me 
what  happened  to  him.    Does  he  marry 
anybody?" 

"Oo,  no.  He  comes  in  because 
I  want  somebody  to  tell  the  audience 
about  Tommy  when  Tommy  isn't 
there." 

(How  well  Bobby  has  caught  the 
dramatic  idea.) 

I  see.    He  ought  to  be  very  useful." 
"  You  see,  tho  first  Act 's  in  a  very- 
grand   restaurant,  and  Tommy  comes 
in  to  have  dinner,  and  ho  explains  to 
Eeynolds    how    he   met   Felicia   on   a 
boat,  and  she  'd  lost  her  umbrella,  and 
he  said,  'Is  this  your  umlrjlla?'  and 
it  was,  and  they  began  to  talk  to  each 
)ther,  and  then  he  was  in  love  with 
her.     And  then  ho  goes  out,  and  then 
Reynolds  tells  the  audience  what   an 
awfully  decent  chap  Tommy  is." 
"  Why  does  ho  go  out?" 
"Well,  you  see,  Eeynolds   couldn't 
(ell  everybody  what  an  awfully  decent 
chap  lominy  is  if  Tommy  was  there." 


(You  see  how  Bobby  has  mastered 
tho  technique  of  the  stage,) 

"  And  where  's  Felicia  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Oo,  sho  doesn't   come  on.     She's 

in  the  country  with  Samuel.     You  see, 

the    second   Act   is   a   grand    country 

wedding,  and  Samuel  and  Phyllis  are 

married,   and   Tommy   is    one    of   tho 

i,  and  ho  's  very  unhappy,  but  ho 

ti'ii's  not  to   show  it,    and   ho   shoots 

himself." 

"  Eeynolds  is  there  too,  I  suppose?" 

"  Oo,  1  don't  know  yet." 

(He'll  have  to  be,  of  course.  He'll 
bo  wanted  to  tell  the  audience  how 
unhappy  Tommy  is.) 

"  And  how  does  it  end  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  you  see,  when  tho  wedding's 
over,  Tommy  sings  a  song  about  Felicia, 
and  it  ends  up  '  Felicia,  Felicia,  Felicia," 
getting  higher  each  time — Short  has  to 
lo  that  part,  of  course,  but  I  've  told ; 
lira  about  it — and  then  the  curtain 
:omes  down." 

"  I  see.  And  has  Short  written  any 
of  the  music  yet?  " 

"  Ho 's  got  some  of  the  notes.  You 
see,  I  've  only  just  got  the  plot,  and 
.  'vo  written  about  two  pages.  I  'm 
writing  it  in  an  exercise-book." 

A  shadow  passed  suddenly  across  the 
.uthor's  brow. 

"  And  the  sickening  thing,"  he  said, 

.3   he   leant   back    in    his    chair   and 

sipped  his  ginger-beer,  "  is  that  on  the 

cover  of  it  I  've  spelt  Disappointment 

with  two  '  s's.'  " 

(The  troubles  of  this  literary  life !) 

"  Sickening,"  I  agreed. 


If  there  is  one  form  of  theft  utterly 
unforgivable  it  is  the  theft  by  a  writer 
of  another  writer's  undeveloped  ideas. 
Borrow  the  plot  of  Sir  J.  M.  BAEEIE'S 
last  play,  and  you  do  him  no  harm  ;  you 
only  write  yourself  down  as  a  plagiarist. 
But  listen  to  the  scenario  of  his  next 
play  (if  he  is  kind  enough  to  read  it  to 
you)  and  write  it  up  before  he  has  time 
to  develop  it  himself,  and  you  do  him 
a  grievous  wrong;  for  you  fix  the 
charge  of  plagiarism  on  him.  Surely, 
you  say,  no  author  could  sink  so  low- 
as  this. 

And  yet,  when  I  got  home,  tho  plot 
of  "  Disappointment  "  (with  one  "  s  ") 
so  took  hold  of  me  that  I  did  the  unfor- 
givable  thing ;  I  went  to  my  desk  and 
j  wrote  the  opera.  I  make  no  excuses 
for  myself.  I  only  point  out  that 
Bobby's  opera,  as  performed  at  Coven  t 
Garden  in  Italian,  with  Short's  music 
conducted  by  BICHTER,  is  not  likely  to 
be  belittled  by  anything  that  I  may 
write  here.  I  have  only  written  in 
order  that  I  may  get  the  scenario— 
which  had  begun  to  haunt  mo— off  my 
chest.  Bobby,  I  know,  will  understand 
and  forgive;  Short  I  have  not  yet  had 


the  pleasure  of  meeting,  but  I  believe 
he  is  smaller  than  Bobby. 

ACT  I. 

^  SCENE — .-1  grand  restaurant.  Enter 
Tommy,  a  very  handsome  man,  just  back 
from  Oxford. 

Tommy  sings  :— 

Felicia,  I  love  you, 
By  all  tho  stars  above  you 
1  swear  you  shall  be  mine ! — 
And  HOW  I  'm  going  to  dine. 

[He  sits  down  and  ordirs  a  bottle  of 
ginger-beer  and  seme  mcnngnes. 

Waiter.  Your  dinner,  Sir. 

Tommy.  Thank  you.  And  would  you 
ask  Mr.  Eeynolds  to  come  in,  if  you  see 
him  ?  (To  the  au'licnce)  A  week  ago  I 
was  crossing  the  Channel— (enter  Rey- 
nolds}— Oh,  here  you  are,  Eeynolds  1  I 
was  just  saying  that  a  week  ago  I 
was  crossing  the  Channel  when  I  saw 
tho  most  beautiful  girl  J  have  ever  St'en 
who  had  lost  her  umbrella.  I  said, 
"  Excuse  me,  but  is  this  your  umbrella?  "' 
She  said,  "Yes."  Eeynolds,  I  sat 
down  and  fell  in  love  with  her.  Her 
name  was  Felicia.  And  now  I  must 
go  and  see  about  something.  [Exit. 

Eeynolds.  Poor  Tommy  !  An  awfully 
decent  chap  if  ever  there  was  one.  But 
he  will  never  marry  Felicia,  because  1 
happen  to  know  her  real  name  is 
Phyllis,  and  she  is  engaged  to  Samuel. 

(Recitative.) 

She  is  engaged  to  Samuel.    Poor  Tommy, 
He  docs  not  know  she  's  fond  of  Siimucl. 
He  will  be  disappointed  when  he  knows. 

CURTAIN. 

ACT  II. 

SCENE — A  beautiful  country  u-cdding. 

Tommy  (in  pew  nearest  door,  lo 
Eeynolds).  Who  's  the  bride? 

Reynolds.  Phyllis.  She's  marrying 
Samuel. 

Enter  Bride. 

Tommy.  Heavens,  it 's  Felicia ! 

Reynolds  (to  audience}.  Poor  Tommy  ! 
How  disappointed  he  must  be!  (A  on  I) 
Yes,  Felicia  and  Phyllis  are  really  the 
same  girl.  She  's  engaged  to  Samuel. 

Tommy.  Then  I  cannot  many  her ! 

Reynolds.  No. 

Tommy  sings : — 

Good-bye,  Felicia,  good-bye, 
1  'm  awfully  disappointed,  I 

Am  now,  in  fact,  about  to  die, 
Felicia,  Felicia,  Felicia ! 

[Shoots  himself. 
CURTAIN. 


That  is  how  I  see  it.  But  no 
doubt  Bobby  and  Short,  when  they 
really  get  to  work,  will  make  some- 
thing better  of  it.  It  is  an  engaging 
theme,  but  of  course  tho  title  wants  to 
bo  spelt  properly.  A.  A.  M. 


DECEMBER  24,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON"   CHARIVARI. 


5-27 


ONCE  UPON   A  TIME. 

BIIKATIIING  SPACE. 
ONCK  upon  a  timo  there  was  nn  old 

I ii I'M  a  nt- -a  leal  veteran  who  hud  conn: 
victorious  out  of  ninny  battues.  Not 
perhaps  wholly  r.n scathed,  for  his  tail 
was  no  longer  llio  streaming  meteoric 
plume  tlnit  it  onco  had  been,  but  sound 
in  wind  and  limh. 

No  olio  kiusw  his  lordship's  ;; 
so  well  as  ho,  so  often  had  he 
UK  in  in  tin:  COVeitS  :  eld  Sir  Mark,  who 

had  an  arm-chair  at  tho  anglo  of  tho 
two  host  drives;  Sir  llumphry,  with 
his  eternal  cigaivUo  in  the  long  gold 
tnlio;  tho  reel  faced  O.;lonel,  who 
always  shot  too  late;  the  purplo-fac,  d 
Major,  who  always  s'.iot  to  >  soon;  t':e 
smiling  agent,  who  would  so  tactfully 
disown  a  bud  whenever  it  stemed 
politic;  and  all  tho  rest  of  them. 

How  tho  vote;  an  rocketer  had  escaped 
ho  could  not  say,  hut  shoot  alter  shoot 
found  him  still  robust  and  elusive, 
while  his  relations  were  falling  all 
around,  some,  to  their  dying  satisfac- 
tion, thudding  into  the  features  of  their 
assassins. 

One  morning  three  young  pheasants 
came  Hying  up  to  their  Nestor  in  a  state 
of  nervous  excitement. 

"Quick!  quick!"  they  said,  "the 
gentlemen  are  leaving  tho  Hall.  Tell 
us  where  to  go  to  he  safe." 

"Go?"  said  the  old  bird.  "Don't 
go  anywhere.  Stay  where  you  are." 

"  13ut  they  're  coming  this  way," 
said  the  young  pheasant--.  "They've 
got  the  same  clothes  ou." 

"  Lot  them  come,"  said  tho  old  bird. 
"There's  no  danger.  Why  don't  you 
use  your  ears?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  they  asked. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  old  bird.  "  What 
is  that  sound?  " 

"It's  too  gentle  for  guns,"  said  the 
young  pheasants  meditatively. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  bird.  "That's 
church  bells.  It  means  they  're  going 
to  play  golf." 

L 'Illustration  on  Paris  : — 
"N'cwt  il  pa*,  ne  sera-t-il  p.is  oncoro  long 
temps,  et  toujours,  e-perons-lc,  conime  centn 
iiquo    et   centre   d'art  the  beast  in  tin 

Tliis  shows  the  dangers  of  tho  entente 
cordialc.  Fifteen  years  ago  tho  wnter 
would  have  said  it  quite  comfortably  in 
his  own  language. 

Science  for  the  Home. 
'•M.   Bimau-Varilla  claims   that  with  his 
tn,')n'il,)-sli;i|>cd  h  od  tho  resistance  of  the  air 
i;  practically  nullified.     Tho-io  present  noticed 
that  a  match,  lighted  just  behind  tho  machine 
when  iu  full  course,  burned  as  if  in  a  vacuum." 
Eaily  TeUgraph. 

This  must  mean  that  it  went  out.  M. 
BUNAU-V.UULLA  will  have  to  try  again. 


'I   SAY — ER— DO  YOU   KKF.P   ANY   MEN'S   TOYS.'" 


NATUEE    STUDIES. 
Tin:  AMATEUR  ACTOR. 

THIS  common  but  entertaining  little 
creature  will  well  repay  observation. 
The  present  is  one  of  the  best  periods 
of  the  year  for  such  a  purpose,  as  it 
has  been  proved  that  tho  tsvo  seasons 
when  it  flourishes  and  propagates  most 
abundantly  are  tho  weeks  about  Christ- 
mas and  those  immediately  preceding 
Lsnt.  With  tho  approach  of  warm 
evenings  it  usually  retires  into  com- 
parative obscurity. 

In  its  habits  this  biped  presents 
several  strongly  marked  characteristics. 
Its  chief  distinction  is  the  employment 
of  what  is  known  to  naturalists  as  Pro- 
tective mimicry.  Thus  the  same  speci- 
men may  frequently  be  found  to  simu- 
late at  onetime  SirGEOBOBAliBXANDEB, 
and  at  another  Mr.  EDMUND  PAYXI:, 
according  to  circumstances.  This  habit 
is  not  only  employed  for  protection, 
but  may  very  often  be  used  for  purposes 
of  offence.  Wo  have  seen  an  amateur 
imitation  of  Sir  HKUUF.KT  TKKF,  that 
was  most  offensive.  On  the 


hand,  the  amateur,  especially  the  female 
variety,  is  often  both  docile  and  en- 
gaging in  manner,  ai:d  may  form  a 
perfect  pet  for  the  household.  It  eats 
little,  but  usually  drinks  a  lot.  "  Sc.-r.itch 
meals"  and  champagne  are  its  chief 
articles  of  nutriment. 

Should  any  reader  be  contemplating 
amateur  -  keeping,  the  rules  to  bo 
observed  are  very  simple.  A  largo 
empty  rcom,  in  which  they  can  play 
about  undisturbed,  is  the  c'.ii'  f  requisite. 
At  their  period  of  full  a  tivity  they 
take  very  little  si  ep,  and  th  i'_  mostly 
in  the  early  mornirg.  They  aiv  per- 
fectly safe,  except  thut  am  thing  like 
unfavourable  cr.ticism  hritates  them 
to  fren/.y,  ar.d  should  on  no  account 
bo  permitted.  With  this  precaution  a 
few  of  these  bright  little  creatun 
more  than  c  -m  penmate  for  tho  expense  of 
upkeep,  and  provide  a  constant  source 
of  entertainmint  for  a  Christmas  party. 

'•LADY  PANCEB'S  SKCONP  SriT." 

liatlij  Chronicle. 

Soine  lady  dancers  co  isider  even  one 


other  unnecessary. 


f23 


PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEB  21.  1913. 


OUR    DRILL    HALL. 

\fa  tno>y.RSTAND  THAT  THIS  ABMY  COUNCIL  HAVE  WRITTEN  TO  THE  COUNTY  ASSOCIATIONS  SUGGESTING  THAT  THEY  MIGHT  ADD 

TO  TIIKIU  INCOME     ISY    LETTING    OUT    THEIB    DKILL-HALLS     FOB     ENTEBTAINMENTS,    DANCES,     ETC         BUT    WHY   NOT,    AT  THE    SAME   TIME, 
ADD  TO  THB  ATTBACTIONS  OF  SEBVICH  IK  THE  TEBKITOBIAL  BANKS  BY  LETTING  THE  ENTEBTAINMENTS  BE  GIVEN  DU11ING  BECBUIT  DBILLS? 


THE   SWEETS   OF   SUEPEISE. 

AT  the  recent  farewell  appearance  of 
Mr.  HABBT  LAUDEB  at  the  Palace 
Theatre  we  learn  that  "  the  popular 
Scotch  comedian,  to  his  evident  surprise 
and  gratification,  was  presented  with 
a  huge  wreath  of  laurels  and  whits 
heather  tied  with  a  plaid  ribbon." 

It  is  pleasant  to  learn,  on  good 
authority,  that  the  lives  of  successful 
public  performers,  arduous  and  fatiguing 
thougli  they  may  be  in  the  main,  are, 
contrary  to  the  view  of  cynics,  largaly 
redeemed  by  the  frequent  occurrence 
of  incidents  which  entirely  baffle  the 
forecast  of  the  most  far-seeing  artist. 

Mr.  Hardy  Marvin,  the  famous  actor- 
manager,whoisnowonhispre-ante-pen- 
ultimato  farewell  tour  in  the  provinces, 
was  the  recipient  of  a  most  gratifying 
testimonial  to  his  abilities  at  Moreton- 
in-the-Marsh  last  week.  At  the  close 
of  the  performance  of  the  romantic 
drama,  The  Pompadour's  Pet,  in  which 


he  sustains  the  leading  rdle,  loud  and 
repeated  cries  of  "  Speech  "  resounded 
from  all  quarters  of  the  house.  The 
famous  histrion,  who  was  quite  over- 
come with  emotion,  remarked  that  this 
unprecedented  demonstration,  for  which 
he  was  completely  unprepared,  would 
always  remain  enshrined  in  his  memory 
as  one  of  the  most  reassuring  evidences 
of  the  intelligence  o£  the  British  public. 

Mr.  Bamberger,  the  famous  violinist, 
at  the  close  of  one  of  his  recitals  was 
asked  by  the  headmistress  of  a  well- 
known  girls'  school  if  he  would  kindly 
sign  his  name  in  the  birthday-books  of 
twenty  of  her  pupils  who  had  attended 
the  concert.  The  famous  Scoto-Semitic 
virtuoso,  who  was  evidently  taken  com- 
pletely aback  by  this  sudden  manifes- 
tation of  goodwill,  graciously  consented 
to  execute  the  request. 

Mr.  Alf  Abel,  the  illustrious  novelist, 
whose  forthcoming  romance,  The  Pass- 
port to  Paradise,  has  already  convulsed 
the  literary  world  with  palpitations  of 


agonised  expectancy,  is  the  subject  of 
a  10,000  word  interview-article  in  the 
current  number  of  Praise  to  the  Face. 
The  world -renowned  writer,  whose 
genius  is  only  equalled  by  his  self- 
effacement,  describes  him- elf  as  alto- 
gether overwhelmed  by  the  request  of 
the  editor,  and  regrets  that  the  lack  of 
notice  has  rendered  it  impossible  for 
him  to  do  full  justice  to  the  occasion. 
Wo  understand  that  this  defect  will  be 
remed  ed  in  a  supplementary  interview 
of  20,000  words  which  will  appear  in 
next  week's  issue  of  P.  T.  T.  1<\ 

A  fine  portrait  of  Miss  Poppy  Flipper, 
the  delightful  soubrette,  appears  in  last 
Saturday's  Giggles.  Interviewed  on 
the  subject  by  "  Gobemouche  "  in 
Monday's  Daily  Longbow,  Miss  Flipper 
expresses  the  extreme  surprise  which 
this  honour  has  given  her.  "  I  thought 
I  should  never  get  into  Giggles  with- 
out paying  £25,"  remarks  the  famous 
comedienne,  "  and  I  'm  jiggered  if  they 
didn't  let  me  oft  for  ten  quid." 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— DKOEMBEH  24,  1913. 


IL    GIOCONDO. 


THE    ENIGMATIC    SMILE    OF    THIS    OLD    MASTER    DISTINGUISHES    IT    FROM    THAT 
OTHEB    NATIONAL    TREASURE,    THE    "BONAR   LISA." 


DECEMBER  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON     <   1 1  \  II I  V  \  PJ. 


531 


A    VILLAGE    POET. 

Ills  was  tlio  red-roofed  corner  shop 
(They  pulled  it  down  to  build   tbc 
station) 

Into  whoso  dimness  one  might  drop 
For  bird's-eyo  or  for  conversation, 

And  niOL't  what  most  of  us  have  missed 

A  Poet-and-Tobt>.cconist. 

Delightful  trades,  of  Heaven  blent — 
Tho  homely,  useful,  aromatic, 

With  the  diviiio,  Olympian-lent, 
The  serviccabb  with  the  Attic; 

'Twasgo;;d  to  meet  a  man  whose  views 

Combined  Tobacco  and  the  Muso. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  you  'd  call 

My  friend  a  SHAKBPEABEOr  aMlLTONJ 

He  liked  to  write,  and,  after  all, 

That 's  what  the  Iliad  was  built  on. 

If  HOUKK'S  job  bad  been  no  joy 

To  HOMED,  who  'd  have  heard  of  Troy  ? 

Tho  merchant  first  (although  he  found 
His  chief  delight  the  reed  of  Thyrsis), 

His  navy-cut  continued  sound, 

In  fact  much  sounder  t'tan  his  verses, 

Although  The  Wealtlsmannow  and  then 

Would  print  a  tamplo  from  his  psn. 

Of  local  happenings  he  would  sing, 
Of  maidens  too  and  bow  to  love  them ; 

Ho  still  had  heart  to  hail  the  Spring 
Though  bo  had  so-jii  some  fifty  of 
them ; 

A  jolly  fellow,  bale  and  stout, 

Who  knew  of  dressing  flies  and  trout. 

A  desultory  Unionist, 

On  GLADSTONE  ho  could  "speak 

satiric," 
And  stop  to  serve  an  ounce  of  twist 

Or  read  aloud  bis  latest  lyric ; 
Or,  if  that  week  there  wasn't  one, 
To  talk  of  ALFBED  TENNYSON. 

I  recollect  bow  he'd  applaud 

(II  is  mind  mayhap  on  some  lost 

Maliel) 

The  genius  that  created  "  Maud  " 
And  sang  the  loves  of  ARTHUU'IJ 

Table ; 

Un wedded  he — and  quite  content — 
But  very  fond  of  sentiment. 

Ah  well,  'tis  now  this  many  a  day 
(How  swiftly  do  the  seasons  pass  us) 

He  's  dolled,  as  bo  'd  have  said,  the  clay 
And  gone  to  lind  bis  loved  Par- 
nassus : 

The  gods  of  all  the  mysteries 

Bo  good  to  him  where'er  ho  is. 

II:s  memory's  green,  his  face  stands 
out 

Amid  a  score  of  friendly  face;?, 
Cheery  as  then,  nor  do  I  doubt 

Ho  sojourns  in  congenial  places, 
Where  on  bis  'oily  brow  doth  stay 
Tho  Weed's  palo  flower,  tbc  Poet's  bay. 


Quack  Medicine  Vendor.  "  HIUIK  YOU  AEI-,   GENTS,  SIXPENCE  A  BOTTLE.    FOUNDED  ON 
THE  RESEARCHES  OF  MODERN  6CIKNCE.    WllEKK  SHOULD  WE  Hi;  WITHOUT  SCIKXCK? 
AT  THE  HANCIE.NT  BRITONS.    THEY  HADN'T  GOT  HO  SCIENCE,  ASD  WHERE  ABB  THEY? 
DEAD  AND  BURIED,  EVI:RY  ONE  OF  "F,M." 


THE    BULBARIUM. 

"  HOORAY  !  "    shouted     my    cousin 
George    Biilin,   rising  to  greet   me  as  i 
I  entered  his  sitting-room.      "  You  're 
the  very  man  1  'm  looking  for.    You  're 
just   in    timo    to    help   with   my   bul- 1 
barium  i  " 

"  Your  what  ?  "  I  enquired,  with  par- 
donable curiosity. 

"Reginald,  your  classical  education 
has  been  sadly  neglected.     Bulbarium  ! 
[is  a  term  of  Latin  origin,  derived  from  ' 
tho    two    words   Indbits,   a    bulb,   and ; 
ariuin,  an  area  or  place,  signifying  a 
place  for  bulbs,  a  bulbary.     These,"  he 
continued,  pointing  to  two  lai  gj  round- 
shouldered  sacks  leaning  wearily  against 
tho  coalscuttle — "  these  are  the  supplies  j 
of  moss-fibre  and  crushed  oyster-shell.  • 


Hero  arc  tho  bulbs"- — bo  indicated  a 
number  of  paj.rr  bags  with  white  labels, 
carefully  arranged  upon  the  writing- 
table.  "  And  if  you  '11  follow  me  down 
to  tho  telephone-room  1  '11  show  you 
about  forty  vases,  howls  po's  and 
soup-tureens  which  I  have  prep. IP  il 
for  their  reception." 

1  have  always  entertained  a  morbid 
dislike  of  telephone-rooms,  but  I  meekly 
accompanied  my  cousin  downstairs. 
On  tho  floor  of  a  chill  and  c-h> 
apartment  on  the  ground  l!oor  stood  a 
largo  bath  containing  a  tin  water-can, 
while  all  around  was  ranged  row  upon 
row  of  empty  jars  of  every  dimension. 

"Are  >ou  going  to  have  a  bath?"  I 
innocently  inquired. 

"No,  no,"  my  cousin  answered  testily; 
"  that 's  what  we  mix  the  compost  in." 


532 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEB  24,  1913. 


"Mix  the  what?" 

"Compost:  the  technical  term  for 
moss  or  cocoanut  fibre." 

"Oh,  I  see.  But  why  not  call  it 
moss  or  ccco.inut-fibrc '.'  " 

George  ignoied  my  question.  "  I  'vo 
borrowed  Mother's  hip-bath,"  ho  said. 
"  I  don't  believe  sho  wants  it  a  bit — 
hips  have  gone  completely  out  of 
fashion  this  year— and  it's  the  very 
tiling  for  the'  job.  l!y  the  way."  lie 
added,  "  I  wisli  you  'd  be  an  angel 

"No,"  I  intenuptcd  firmly,  "I  utterly 
decline  to  be  an  angel.  From  earliest 
childhood  experience  has  taught  me 
that  tho  angelic  function  invariably 
entails  running  upstairs  and  fetching 
something,  and  1  'in  much  too  old  to 
run  anywhere." 

"Oh,  very  well, "be sighed  resignedly, 
"I  suppose  I  must  go 
myself.      Don't    touch 
anythin0    till    I   come 
back." 

George  was  only 
away  about  three 
minutes  (during  which 
I  successfully  resisted 
tho  temptation  to  touch 
his  mother's  hip-bath), 
and  returned  laden  with 
the  two  sacks  that  I 
had  already  noticed  in 
his  sitting-room. 

"  1  've  brought  a  book 
of  the  rules,  too,"  he 
remarked,  "so  that  we 
shan't  do  anything 
silly." 

"  Speak  for  yourself," 
I  said,  "  personally " 

My  sentence  was 
never  completed. 

"Look  out!  Stand 
clear  of  the  gate!"  shouted  George,  as 
with  a  vigorous  heave  he  emptied  the 
contents  of  the  sacks  into  the  bath. 
For  a  few  moments  the  atmosphere 
was  filled  with  thick  yellow  dust,  and 
my  eyes  and  lungs  were  choked  with  it. 

"Mow  then,  look  alive,"  he  added 
peremptorily,  "  we  must  do  this  thing 
properly.  You  roll  up  your  sleeves 
and  churn  the  fibre  and  the  shell 
together  while  I  keep  tiie  mixture  damp 
with  water  from  the  can." 

As  I  surveyed  the  condition  of  my 
fingers  after  a  few  minutes  of  this 
churning  exercise  I  could  not  help  re- 
calling the  beautiful  old  poem  beginning : 

"  There  is  a  garden  in  her  face, 

Where  roses  and  white  lilies  grow," 
and  wondering  whether  any  modern 
bard  might  possibly  be  inspired  to 
similar  flights  of  fancy  by  tho  garden 
in  my  nails ;  but  I  knew  it  would  be 
useless  to  try  to  explain  such  senti- 
mental thoughts  to  George. 

He    was     studying    a    small     pink 


pamphlet  he  had  produced  from  his 
pocket,  and  his  brow  was  furrowed 
with  caro. 

"I  hops  you're  not  letting  me  put 
in  too  much  water,"  ho  suddenly  re- 
marked. "  It  says  hero  that  about  four 
quarts  to  the  half-bushel  is  enough." 

"  My  dear  George,"  I  expostulated, 
"  I  may  know  how  much  a  quart  is, 
but  how  on  earth  am  I  to  tell  what 
half  a  bushel  is  like?" 

"  They  don't  seem  to  have  taught 
you  anything  at  all  at  Eton,"  he  com- 
plained. "  Surely  you  remember  your 
table  of  avoirdupois?  Two  pecks  one 
gallon — er — two  gallons  one  peck 


Wait  a  minute.  It  '11  come  back  to  me 
directly.  Two  pecks  one  bushel;  two 
bushels  one  rod,  pole  or  perch ;  two 
rods,  poles  or  perches,  one " 


CHRISTMAS  EVE. 
Nutty  Cousin  from  Toicn.  "I  SAY,  EDWARD,  I  WISH  YOU'D  LEND  ME  A  PAIR 

OP  YOUR  RODGH  SOCKS.  MrNE  ARE  ALL  RATHER  NICE  ONES,  AND  I  DON'T  WANT 
TO  GET  THEM  TORN  WITH  SOMEONE  TBYING  TO  SHOVE  A  CLOCK-WORK  ENGINE  OB 
A  CAMERA  INTO  THEM." 


At  that  moment  a  large  lump  of 
soaring  fibre  that  I  was  engaged  in 
kneading  eluded  my  grasp  and  fell 
over  tho  edge  of  the  bath  on  to  my 
left  patent-leather  boot,  causing  me 
to  utter  a  somewhat  unparliamentary 
expression. 

"Eeginald!  I'm  shocked!"  said 
George. 

"Ell!"  I  repeated;  "two  perches 
one  ell ;  two  ells  one  rood " 

"Oh,  shut  up!  The  compost  is 
ready  now.  Let 's  fill  the  bowls." 

My  cousin  held  each  jar  in  turn  while 
I  packed  it  with  sodden  fibre,  until  at 
last  the  supply  of  receptacles  was  ex- 
hausted and  the  bath  was  nearly  empty. 

"  The  question  now  is,"  said  George, 
"  where  are  we  to  put  the  bowls  ?  It 
says  hero"— he  turned  once  more  to 
the  pamphlet— "' The  jars  or  vases 
should  be  kept  in  a  dark  but  airy  cellar. 
To  ensure  success  they  must  have  con- 
stant care,  like  a  mother  gives  her 
young  children.' " 


"  That 's  all  very  well,  George.  I 
know  I  'm  old-fashioned  and  all  that, 
but  I  must  insist  that  very  few  mothers 
moisten  their  young  children  and  then 
put  them  in  a  dark  and  airy  cellar." 

"  I  believe  they  'd  do  best  under 
Mother's  bed,"  said  George. 

"  But  would  that  bo  healthy  or 
hygienic  ?  " 

"  For  Mother,  do  YOU  mean,  or  tho 
bulbs?" 

"  For  either,"  I  said. 
George  was  clearly  more  concerned 
about  tho  bowls.  "  It  says  here,"  he 
went  on,  "  that  they  must  on  no 
account  be  kept  too  wet,  but  that  if 
they  become  dry,  even  for  half-an- 
il our " 

Like  me,"  I   suggested,     "  Mixing 
fibre  's  thirsty  work." 

"  If  they  get  dry  for 
even  half-an-hour,"  ho 
repeated,  "they  go 
blind." 

"That's  just  what  I 
meant." 

"Yes,"  he  continued, 
"Mother's  bed's,  the 
very  place.  She  '11 
never  know." 

"  Poor  Mother,"  I 
could  not  help  remark- 
ing. "Butchered  to 
make  a  Roman  Hya- 
cinth ! " 

With  a  great  deal  of 
effort    we    carried    the 
bowls  upstairs  one  by 
one,  and  deposited  them 
beneath    tho   maternal 
couch.     When   at   last 
our  labours  were  at  an 
end   we    descended   to 
the    Library,   thankful 
that  our  task  was  safely  accomplished. 
As  we  entered  the  room  George  gave 
a  sudden  start,  and  his  gaze  became 
rivetted    upon    the    paper    bags   that 
strewed  the  writing-table. 
"  Good  lord !  "  he  gasped. 
"What  is  it?" 

"  We  Ve  forgotten  the  bulbs  I  "  said 
George. 

"  The  high  figures  that  havo  been  given  aro 
due  to  the  fact  that  owing  to  tho  method  of 
collection  through  a  member  of  the  sibship 
the  chance  of  a  sibship  being  recorded  is 
approximately  in  direct  proportion  to  its  size." 

Star. 

Personally,  so  interested  are  we  to  see 
a  sibship,  we  should  record  even  the 
smallest  one  to  the  proper  authority. 

"  He  searched  his  pockets  for  Glide's  car." 

"  Daily  Neil's  "  femlleton. 
"  No,   that 's    Thompson's,"    he    said, 
fingering  again  the  one  in  his  ticket 
pocket;,"!  can  tell  by  the  feel  of  tho 
bonnet." 


DECKMHER  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THK    LONDON    CIIA1UVA1U. 


THE    BARBER'S    CHRISTMAS    EVE. 

The  Jleadlcss  Knight  of  (lie  Clanking  Chain.  "  HAIB  cur,  PLEASE." 


TO    A    CENTENARIAN    COCKATOO. 

CREATURE  of  mystery,  above  whoso  head 

More  than  a  hundred  years,  I  'm  told,  have  sped, 

Strange  Bird,  who  should  by  every  right  bo  dead, 

Yet  seem  to  all  appearance  just  as  well 

As  when  your  dam,  with  forest-splitting  yell, 

Proclaimed  you  issuing  from  your  native  shell, 

I  wonder,  when  you  muse  upon  the  lot 

That 's  brought  you  to  this  age  of  heav'n  knows  what, 

If  you  congratulate  yourself,  or  not. 

Great  are  your  blessings.     You  can  still  digest 
Trifles  like  nuts  and  matches  with  the  bost ; 
You  still  retain  a  lively  interest 

In  the  vain  plumage  you  so  much  approve ; 
And— inwardly— 1  grieve  to  say,  you  move 
Still  in  the  same  unalterable  groove. 

Your  gift  of  speech  does  not  advance  with  age  ; 

It  is  not  guarded,  apposite  or  sage; 

You  have  one  joke,  to  lure  within  your  cage 

Some  kindly  finger,  and,  with  sudden  beak, 
Transfix  that  member  till  its  owner  squeak  ; 
As  manners,  this  is  poor;  as  humour,  weak. 

Far  from  that  alien  country  in  whose  trees 
Your  wilding  brothers  had  their  little  sprees, 
Here  you  have  sojourned  in  superior  ease. 

You  did  not  share  with  them  the  daily  risk, 
That  keepS  the  faculties  agog  and  brisk, 
Of  passing  to  oblivion  in  a  whisk ; 


And  oft,  no  doubt,  in  this  your  easy  state 

You  chuckle  at  the  grim  and  tragic  fate 

That  must  have  caught  those  others,  soon  or  lato. 

Yet  these  your  kin,  however  rough  their  lives, 
Had  active  times  and  multitudinous  wives ; 
While  you,  the  sole  relation  that  survives— 

It  never  has  been  yours  in  Spring  to  screech 
A  mad  love-music,  not  in  human  speech, 
But  in  the  language  love  alone  can  teach. 

The  flamelike  crest  that  you  so  proudly  raise, 
Though  you  have  flaunted  it  these  myriad  days, 
Has  ne'er  been  lifted  for  a  female's  praise. 

The  plumes  that  you  have  preened  and  kept  so  neat 
You  have  but  tended  for  your  own  conceit, 
Not  for  the  winning  of  some  dearer  sweet. 

Musings  like  these  may  possibly  have  stirred 
Your  inmost  soul — although  it  seams  absurd, 
They  being  suited  to  a  younger  bird. 

Still,  even  with  the  old  are  moments  when 

Such  feelings  touch  them — lightly — now  and  then ; 

Though  YOU,  for  all  I  know,  may  be  a  hen. 

DfM-Duu. 

Official  Candour. 

From  a  G.P.O.  letter  to  a  correspondent  who  had  com- 
plained of  his  (you'll  never  guess  what)— yes,  his  tele- 
phone:— 

"While  every  reasonable,  endeavour  ia  made  to  reduce  the  incon- 
venience occasioned  by  faults  to  a  minimum,  uubrokcn  iutcrruntion 
cannot  bo  guaranteed." 
Meanwhile  they  go  on  trying  for  it. 


534 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.          [DaconraaB  84,  IfUL 


BEFORE    THE    POW-WOW. 
"Black  Thorn")  C°  their  respective  chiefs).  "Loon  HEUE,  IP  YOU  ABE  GOING  TO  BIT  DOWN  AND  SMOKE  THE  PEACE  PIPE  TOGETHER, 

3  MIND  IT'S  YOt'E  TOBACCO  AND  NOT  HIS." 


AT   THE    PLAY. 

IN  SEARCH  OF  A  HUSBAND." 
MR.  JEROME  K.  JEROME  has  called 
his  production  afc  the  Vaudeville  "  an 
Absurd  Play."  I  have  had  no  previous 
quarrel  with  Mr.  JEROME,  but  I  am  sure 
we  should  differ  bitterly  over  the  right 
application  of  this  epithet.  He  probably 
used  it  in  a  modest,  deprecatory  way, 
to  imply  that  his  creation  was  just 
quaint  nonsense.  But  I  should  want 
it  to  mean  that  the  play  was  curiously 
bad.  Now  a  bad  serious  play  I  can 
bear  with  some  show  of  fortitude,  but 
a  bad  funny  play  reduces  me  to  a  state 
of  sombre  despair. 

Mr.  JEROME'S  old  mechanical  device 
of  an  exchange  of  dresses  and  identities 
leads  in  the  end  to  almost  as  much 
bewilderment  for  the  audience  as  for 
the  actors  affected.  Myself,  I  should 
have  preferred  a  frank  buffoonery  to! 
this  mental  knockabout  business.  It 
is  true  that  a  comic  policeman  was 
introduced,  but  he  did  nothing  to  excuse  1 


his  existence.  The  situations  offered 
no  mattsr  for  mirth  ;  up  to  half-time  the 
dialogue  saldom  lapsed  from  banality ; 
and  the  whole  play  contained  only 
one  realisable  character — that  of  an 
American,  played  naturally  by  Mr. 
BEEON. 

Miss  ROWENA  JEROME,  for  whose 
talents,  I  must  assume,  her  father  de- 
signed this  unhappy  opportunity,  went 
bravely  through  the  part  of  a  minx 
under  the  apparent  impression  that  it 
was  humorous,  but  failed  to  convey  her 
own  convictions  across  the  footlights. 

When  I  have  added  that  Mr.  RICHARD 
EVANS  was  pleasantly  pedestrian  in  his 
delivery  of  poetic  sentiments,  I  have 
said  all  that  needs  saying  about  the 
cast. 

There  are  mysteries,  insoluble  to  the 
outsider,  about  the  production  of  certain 
plays,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  conjecture 
whether  Messrs.  NOBMAN  M'KiNNELand 
FREDERICK  WHELEN  made  a  contract 
with  Mr.  JEROME  on  the  strength  of 
his  name  without  first  seeing  the  stuff 


that  they  were  to  "present."  But  I 
prefer  to  hazard  this  guess,  because 
the  alternative  explanation  would  be 
less  flattering  to  their  intelligence  and 
experience. 

As  for  Mr.  JEROME,  who  has  here 
done  such  poor  justice  to  his  undoubted 
gifts,  I  don't  grudge  him  the  right  to 
any  personal  amusement  he  may  have 
got  out  of  this  composition,  but  I  do 
grudge  him  the  privilege  of  wasting 
one  of  my  evenings ;  and  unless  my 
temper  shows  a  marked  improvement 
it  will  be  a  long  time  before  I  take 
the  risk  of  assisting,  on  a  first  night, 
at  another  Absurd  Play  from  his  pen. 

=====       °-  S> 

An  Impending  Apology. 

"  Mr.  Chas.  Preston  presided  and  the  attend- 
ance was  particularly  good  considering." 

M  iildlescx  Advert  iaa: 


"  The  Rev.  W.  V.  Vickers,  Hector  of  Bear- 
wood, was  awarded  principal  prize  for  calves." 

Observer. 
They  ought  to  make  him  a  bishop. 


DECEMBER  24,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    CIFA  III  VAIM. 


HOW    TO    SET    ABOUT    PURCHASING    A    CAR. 

(Start  with  an  open  mind;   seek  unbiassed  expert  opinion.) 


» 


f 


1  EIGHT-TEN  TOOTLETS  1     Ml  DEAB  FELLOW,    DON'X   TOCCB  'ESI.'' 


"  TWF.I.VE-SIXTEEH   WUBZELS  !  I      KNOW   'EM  ?     SHOfLO  THINK 

I  DO.    MIGHT  AS  WELL  THEOW  VOUH  MONEY  IKTO  THE  'IHAMES." 


.  . 


"AC 


tvn». 


"SlXTEEN-TWENTY  BLIPS!!!      YUS ;    DHOVB  ONE  ONCE ;     BTEEB-  "  TWEHTT-POCB     ScOIlCHERS  !  !  !  I      WELL,     IP     YEB     WAKT    TO 

ING  GEAB  WENT  WRONG  I    THREE  WEEKS  IN  'OBSPITAL  WAS  WHAT—'  COMMIT  SUICIDE—" 


THE   RESULT— RELIABILITY,    SAFETY,   ECONOMY   AND  COMFORT. 


536 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  24,  1913. 


OUR  DAILY   POLITICAL  FARE 

(Being  an  imitation  of  the  Londo 
Letter  of  every  provincial  ncivspapc 
every  day.) 


. — The  alternatives  in  brackets  ma 
ivf.;ariled  as  purely  optional,  to  be  rcltiim 
or  omitted  according  to  the  political  opimoi 
of  the  reader.  They  are  not  of  any  importune 

any  way.] 

MR.  ASQUITH'S  speech  on  Frida 
night  is  tho  solo  subject  of  discussio 
in  political  circles  liero.  Its  importanc 
can  hardly  bo  overrated.  There  is 
however,  much  diversity  of  opinion 
Some  see  in  it  tho  clearest  possibl 
hint  of  approaching  conciliation,  whil 
others  find  themselves  baffled  by  it 
manifest  ambiguity.  Still  it  canno 
fail,  following  as  it  does  upon  the  epoch 
making  pronouncements  of  the  leader 
of  both  parties  at  Ladybank,  Leeds 
Oldhain,  Newcastle,  \\'idnes,  Paisley 
Carnarvon,  Ballycoran,  Chowbent  anc 
elsewhere,  to  have  a  profound  effect  on 
the  situation. 

Had  it  been  made  immediately  afte 
Mr.  CHURCHILL'S  reply  at  Portobell< 
to  Mr.  BONAR  LAW'S  retort  at  New 
castle  to  Mr.  ASQUITH'S  statement  a 
Ladybank  it  would  have  been  acceptec 
by  the  Opposition  leaders  without  hesi 
tation  as  approaching  more  closely  to 
the  Aberdeen  position,  which,  owing  to 
the  less  conciliatory  attitude  taken  uj 
at  Southampton,  appeared  to  have  beer 
finally  abandoned.  But,  coming  as  il 
does  on  the  eve  of  tho  demonstrations 
at  Baslow,  Birmingham,  and  Beat- 
tock,  its  special  significance  cannot  bo 
ignored. 

It  may  bo  said  with  confidence  that 
there  is  no  new  element  whatever  in 
the  situation.  As  I  pointed  out  yester- 
day— and  the  day  before,  and  the  day 
before  that,  and  any  time  in  the  last  six 
weeks — the  attitude  of  the  leaders  on 
both  sides  is  perfectly  clear.  Unionists 
demand  a  General  Election.  That  is 
[not]  a  possible  solution  of  the  impasse. 
Radicals  hotly  maintain  that  the  present 
Bill  holds  the  field.  Clearly  it  does  [not] 
hold  the  field.  If  any  conference  is  to 
take  place  it  is  indubitably  [not]  up  to 
the  Government  to  make  the  first  move. 
The  exclusion  of  Ulster  .  .  .  (3,000 
words  on  that). 

The  development  of  the  federal  idea 
.  .  .  (500  words  on  that/. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that,  faced 
with  the  actual  danger  of  a  rising  in  the 
North  of  Ireland  .  .  .  (1,500  on  that). 
But  all  this  is  merely  to  repeat  what  I 
have  been  saying  daily  in  almost  the 
same  words  during  the  last  two  months. 
The  vital  point  is  that  the  time  is  short, 
the  sands  are  running  out.  A  terrible 
responsibility  will  be  incurred  if  the 
position  is  not  faced  immediately  by 


the  Government  [Opposition] .  At  th 
best  I  cannot  hope  to  go  on  writin 
this  sort  of  thing  for  more  than  anotlie 
five  months.  For  the  crisis  is  at  ham 

The  Times  by  the  way,  commentin 
on  last  night's  speech,  sees  in  it  a  fran 
return  to  tho  position  adopted  at  Learn 
ington.  The  Horning  Post  draws  ; 
striking  parallel  between  it  and  th 
Kinloch-Kannoch  pronouncement.  Th 
Daily  News  is  confident  that  in  som 
points  it  directly  controverts  the  Liver 
pool  utterance,  but  it  must  he  remem 
bored  that  that  was  afterwards  qualifie 
by  th'o  St.  Andrews  deliverance.  Bu 
this  is  surely  to  leave  out  of  account  th 
Prestatyn  assertion,  the  Golders  Greer 
declaration  and  the  Inverness  pro 
nunciamiento. 

To   sum   up :    both    sides    are   stil 
feeling    their    way   and    there    is    n 
change  whatever  in  the  situation.     To 
morrow  I  hope  to  discuss  the  positior 
in  precisely  the  same  terms. 


MUSICAL  NOTES. 

PROFESSOR  DE  BANVILLE'S  NEW 

SYMPHONY. 

GREAT  enthusiasm  prevails  in  Bootl 
in  consequence  of  the  announcement 
that  Professor  Quantock  de  Banville's 
new  Choral  Supersymphony  will  be 
aeard  there  in  the  course  of  the  nexl 
year.  This  great  work,  the  words  foi 
which  have  been  selected  by  tho  com- 
Doser  from  the  works  of  CONFUCIUS, 
VIr.  W.  B.  YEATS  and  RABINDRANATH 
TAGOP.E,  is  written  in  foity  real  parts, 
each  of  tho  four  ordinary  divisions  oi 
;he  chorus  • — soprano,  contralto,  tenor 
and  bass — being  divided  into  ten. 


With  tho  view  of  obtaining  tho  due 
•ariety  of  timbre  and  colour  desirable  in 

in  orchestra,  Professor  de  Banville  has 
>rovided  the  most  elaborate  instructions 
or  the  singers.  For  instance,  some  of 
he  tenors  are  enjoined  to  sing  always 
hrough  their  noses ;  in  one  passage 
he  soprani  are  adjured  to  "emulate 
he  tones  of  a  terrified  peacock ; " 
n  another  the  basses  are  bidden  "  to 
mitate  the  booming  of  the  chimera  in 
he  void ; "  while  in  a  third  the 
ontralti  are  enjoined  always  to  keep  a 

Carlsbad  plum  in  their  mouths  to 
nsure  a  "  rich  fruity  tone." 

Again,  though  no  instruments  are 
mployed,  the  Professor  indicates 
neans  by  which  novel  effects  may  be 
reduced,  as,  for  example,  by  clicking 
ie  tongue,  or  striking  the  jaw  with 
he  clenched  fist,  or  a<>ain,  as  he 
raphically  puts  it,  "  bubbling  with  the 
ps."  The  libretto  is  partly  in  Eng- 
sh,  partly  in  Chinese,  but  in  one  strik- 
ig  chorus,  perhaps  the  culminating 


moment  in  the  symphony,  no  words  are 
utteied  at  all,  tho  loity  different  parts 
representing  forty  different  animals 
and  birds,  including  hyaenas,  gorillas 
cockatoos,  bobolinks,  tapirs,  caper 
cailzic  and  giraffes. 


No  title  has  as  yet  been  fixed  upon 
for  tho  work  owing  to  a  slight  con 
tretemps  which  has  arisen  from  tho 
composite  character  of  the  libretto 
Yuan  Shih-Kai  having  expressed  a 
strong  preference  for  a  Chinese  name 
while  Mr.  YEATH  holds  out  for  a  C,  Itic 
designation.  During  the  composition 
of  tho  work  Professor  de  Banville  livec 
entirely  on  China  tea,  rice  and  potatoes 
— in  order  to  attune  his  system  to  the 
triplex  nature  of  the  libretto — and  was 
arrayed  in  a  costume  which  includec 
a  turban,  a  saffron  kilt,  and  a  pig-tai 
amongst  its  most  impressive  features. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  tho 
difficulties  of  the  new  work  are  gigantic 
and  Gargantuan.  Professor  de  Banville 
in  an  interview  with  a  representative 
of  the  Bootlc  Clarion,  declares  that  no 
choral  singers  have  ever  been  called 
upon  to  perform  such  feats  of  sustained 
enormity  as  those  which  are  demanded 
in  his  latest  work.  In  the  second  trio 
of  the  third  Scherzo  the  soprani  have 
Lo  sing  a  figure  in  rapid  semiquavers 
for  fifty-four  bars  at  a  stretch,  ranging 
between  C  and  F  in  alt.  Professor 
de  Banville  admits  also  that  the  strain 
imposed  on  tho  semilunar  ganglions  of 
ihe  diaphragm  by  the  extraordinary 
iravura  of  the  gorilla  motif  for  the 
masses  in  tho  Finale  is,  perhaps,  exces- 
sive. But  he  has  been  assured  by 
athletic  experts  that  this  is  of  the 
greatest  value  for  long-distance  runners, 
and  he  has  accordingly  applied  to  the 
Dlympic  Fund  for  a  grant  of  £5,000  for 
lis  chorus. 


Professional  Candour. 
"Leaving     Kelty     Monday,     22nd    inst., 

•ladame  ,    renowned    Palmist,    Crystal 

Gazer.    Everybody  pleased." 

Cowdcnbcath  Times. 


Mr.  Vachell  ...  is  perhaps  most  widely 
nown  as  the  author  of  one  of  tho  best  modern 
tories  of  school  life,  'The  Hell,'  in  which 
larrow  is  described." — Bristol  Daily  Press. 
5ut  that  was  the  Harrow  of  some  years 
go,  before  smoking  was  stamped  out. 


From  a  letter  in  the  Ceylon 
ndependent : — 

"The  girls  present  at  the  Public  Hall 
motion  were  the  crcme  de  menthe  of  Colombo 
iris'  Schools." 

n  fact  they  impressed  the  writer  so 
nuch  (particularly  the  fourth  from  the 
nd  in  the  ninth  row)  that  he  has 
ecided  to  become  a  benedictine. 


DKCKMDER  24,  l'J13.] 


PUNCH,  on  THE  LONDON  en AUIVAIII. 


637 


THE    TRAVELLING    VARIETY    SHOW    AT    OUR    VILLAGE    HALL. 

THE  TRAGEDY  OP  THE  CURTAIN   THAT  WEST   UP    TOO   BOOK. 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Ckrks.) 
THE  chiefs  of  the  Clan  Donald  cannot  trace  their  line  of 
descent  quite  so  far  back  as  the  fabled  Phairshon,  who 
swore  a  feud  against  the  Clan  McTavish.  For  he,  if  the 
legend  is  correct,  had  a  son  who  married  NOAH'S  daughter, 
and  nearly  spoilt  the  Flood  by  drinking  up  the  water.  But, 
with  that  one  possible  or  impossible  exception,  I  doubt  if 
any  Scotch  family  can  boast  a  more  ancient  lineage.  They 
were  sprung,  according  to  the  pedigree  table  published  in 
Mrs.  STIRLING'S  fascinating  book,  Macdonald  of  the  Isles 
(MURRAY),  from  CONN-CEUD-CHATACH,  the  hundredth 
supreme  King  of  Ireland,  who  held  his  court  at  Tara  in  the 
second  century  of  our  era.  Wherever  he  may  be  now,  the 
said  CONSTANTINE,  Conn  of  a  hundred  fights,  has  certainly 
no  reason  to  blush  for  the  unwarriorlike  qualities  of  his 
descendants.  They  have  always  been  born  fighters,  and  in 
their  continual  feuds  with  their  neighbours  and  each  other 
have  never  lacked  the  spirit  that  earned  old  "  Centimachus  " 
his  hybrid  nickname.  But  the  clan  has  moved  with  .the 
times.  Two  years  ago  the  three  rival  claimants  to  the 
chieftainship — CLANRANALD,  GLENGARRY,  and  SLEAT — 
agreed  that  henceforth,  when  any  question  of  precedence 
arose  between  them,  it  should  be  decided  pro  hoc  vice,  not 
with  claymore  and  dirk,  but  by  the  spin  of  a  coin  or  the 
drawing  of  lots.  So  that  nowadays,  if  two  of  them  happen 
to  meet  at  the  same  flower-show  or  other  public  function, 
no  bloodshed  takes  place.  From  beginning  to  end  the  story 
of  the  clan  is  rich  in  excitement  and  romance,  and  as  a 


devout  lover  of  Skye  and  a  fervent  admirer  of  the  clan 
sentiment  I  tender  my  thanks  to  Mrs.  STIRLING  for  the 
admirable  way  in  which  she  has  used  the  excellent  material 
at  her  command.  Her  book  is  the  most  human  and  per- 
sonal sidelight  on  Scottisli  history  that  I  have  ever  read. 

"  England  has  long  been  in  labour,  but  at  last  she  has 
brought  forth  a  man."  Thus  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT,  sum- 
ming up  the  character  of  WILLIAM  PITT  and  the  condition 
of  affairs  in  Europe  that  he  was  called  upon  to  face  when  in 
1756  he  formed  his  first  Ministry.  The  story  of  his  career, 
bound  up  with  the  destiny  of  England  at  one  of  the  most 
critical  epochs  in  her  history,  is  treated  in  masterly  fashion 
by  Mr.  BASIL  WILLIAMS  in  his  Life  of  William  Pitt  (LONG- 
MANS). The  opening  pages  show  a  tendency  to  overload 
the  narrative  with  detail.  One  cannot  clearly  see  the  wood 
for  the  trees.  But  this  defect,  doubtless  due  to  excessive 
conscientiousness,  soon  disappears  with  our  introduction  to 
the  private  life  of  the  great  statesman.  A  disposition  to 
develop  into  what  JOHN  FORSTER'S  cabman  described  as 
"a  harbitrary  gent"  was  aggravated  by  attacks  of  gout, 
to  which  he  was  a  martyr  all  his  life,  and  in  particular 
at  critical  epochs  when  his  presence  was  exceptionally 
desired.  His  hastiness  of  temper,  his  downrightness  of 
speech,  made  him  a  host  of  enemies.  But  there  was  always 
balm  for  him  in  his  home.  To  the  end  of  a  long  married 
life  his  wife  and  he  remained  on  the  terms  of  lovers.  Outside 
his  home  PITT  lived  a  stormy  life.  GEORGE  II.  liked  him  not, 
and  GEORGE  III.  long  fought  against  the  inevitableness  of 
his  being  called  to  the  supreme  direction  of  affairs.  Happily 


533 


PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  |DECEMBEB  24,  1913. 


for  England  PITT,  born  in  duo  season,  was  inevitable.  Ho 
based  his  Ministry  on  the  principle  of  trust  in  the  people, 
quite  a  novelty  in  the  mid-eighteenth  century,  insistence 
upon  it  taking  away  the  breath  of  successive  GEORGES. 
Another  of  PITT'S  axioms  of  government,  familiar  enough 
in  these  dayr-,  recognised. the  Fleet  as  the  first  line  of 
national  defence.  The  royal  GEORGES,  anxious  chielly  for 
the  safe! y  and  prosperity  of  the  pitiful  State  of  which  they 
were  still  Electors,  spent  millions  of  English  money  in 
subsidising  the  Hanoverian  army  "  England  should  put 
herself  on  board  her  Fleet,"  said  PITT,  and  spent  his  chief 
energy  on  building  it  up  and  maintaining  it  in  the  highest 
state  of  efliciency.  The  life  and  times  of  the  Great  Com- 
moner are  not  to  be  dealt  with  in  a  paragraph.  The  study  of 
both  presented  by  Mr.  BASIL  WILUAMS'S  two  volumes  forms 
a  liberal  education  in  English  history  at  a  prolonged  crisis. 

If  ever  dainty  book  was  labelled  "  For  Christmas,"  In 
Powder  and  Crinoline,  a  sheaf  of  fairy  tales  from  many 
sources,  retold  by  Sir  ABTHUB  QUILLEB  -  COUCH  and 
delicately  illustrated  by  Mr.  KAY  NEILSEN,  is  that  book, 
and  the  publishers,  Messrs. 

HODDEB  AND  STOUGHTON,  al'O 

heartily  to  be  congratulated 
on  its  winning  appearance. 
Not  that  it  is  a  holly  and 
mistletoe  affair — nothing  so 
obvious.  The  artist,  deeply 
in  love  with  the  decorative 
possibilities  of  the  crinoline, 
seems  to  have  demanded  a  set 
of  fairy  tales  that  could  be  in- 
terpreted in  that  roomy  mode, 
and  the  ingenious  "  Q."  did 
his  best  to  supply  them.  I 
can  answer  fully  for  their 
charm,  their  discretion,  their 
fragrant,  gentle,  whimsical 
humour.  Perhaps  of  all  the 
stories  that  of  "John  and  the 
Ghosts,"  the  author's  own 
puckish  version  of  the  Berke- 
ley Square  legend,  is  the  most 
intriguing,  but  to  say  I  read  every  word  of  all  the  others 
with  delight  is  not  to  exaggerate.  And,  as  for  Mr.  NEILSEN, 
he  has  taken  the  most  pleasant  liberties  with  his  theme,  in- 
volving in  a  common  apotheosis  the  Trianon  and  the  1851 
Exhibition  with  a  happy  audacity  that  lightly  laughs  at 
'antiquaries.  He  will  not  resent  being  reckoned,  along  with 
so  many  contemporary  draftsmen,  especially  in  Germany, 
a  faithful  disciple  of  the  brilliant  and  perverse  BEABDSLEY. 
Indeed,  his  colour  drawings  are  essentially  patterns  thought 
out  in  line,  with  the  colour  as  a  graceful  afterthought. 
There  are  many  of  the  authentic  BEABDSLEY  notes  and 
phrases,  but  embroidered  with  an  intelligence  and  origin- 
ality which  forbid  any  charge  or  suspicion  of  plagiarism. 
[  began  to  wonder  whether  it  was  only  the  older  children 
who  would  appreciate  these  retold  tales  and  their  attractive 
colour  commentary,  until  I  remembered  that,  barring  per- 
haps the  higher  Cambridge  undergraduate,  there  is  no  one 
in  the  world  so  old  as  our  modern  nieces  and  nephews.  So 
I  would  urge  the  giving  of  this  very  charming  book  to  both 
the  young  children  and  the  old. 


.  Spoilt  Youth  (a  few  days  before  Christmas).  "I  SAY,  NURSE,  DON'T 

YOU  THINK  I  OUGHT  TO  SCEAP  THESE  BEFOBE  THE  NEW  LOT  COMES  IN?" 


Should  the  reviewer  meet  with  a  collection  of  pleasant 

it  undistinguished  pot-boilers,  gathered  into  volume  form, 

and  pretending  to  be  something  important  on  the  strength 

of  their  author's  reputation,  he  would  be  well  justified  in 

some  Severity  of  censure.     But  a  collection  of  pot-boilers 


that  pretend  to  be  nothing  at  all  but  what  they  are  is  a 
different  affair.  I  think  1  never  read  a  more  thoroughly 
disarming  preface  than  that  which  Mr.  HOHACE  A.  VACHELL 
has  written  to  the  volume  that  he  calls  Loot  (JOHN  MUBRAY). 
Ho  chose  the  name,  he  says,  "  because  whatever  this 
volume  may  raise  in  hard  cash  must  be  regarded  as  plunder 
to  which  some  critics  may  contend  the  author  has  no 
warrantable  right."  After  that  what  is  one  to  say?  One 
may  protest  that  the  scope  of  the  tales  is  too  brief,  and 
their  action  (being  written  for  the  popular  magazines  they 
are  full  of  action)  too  crowded  to  allow  of  the  delicate 
character-drawing  in  which  Mr.  VACHKLL  really  excels ; 
one  may  say  that  many  of  them  are  unlikely  to  the  verge 
of  the  incredible ;  that  (for  example)  young  wives  do  not 
pass  themselves  off  successfully  for  months  as  boy-waiters 
in  order  to  support  invalid  husbands ;  or  that  understudies 
at  West-end  theatres  do  not  leap  in  one  evening  to  the 
prominence  of  whole  columns  in  the  daily  Press.  What 
would  you  ?  In  the  domain  of  the  commercial  short  story 
thesa  things  are  not  only  possible  but  compulsory.  And 
the  stories  of  Mr.  VACHELL  remain  exceptionally  good  of 

-  their  kind.  Taken  one  or  two 
at  a  time  you  will  find  them 
capital  entertainment;  in 
larger  doses  the  repetition, 
every  fifteen  pages  or  so,  of  the 
matrimonial  climax  inevitable 
in  this  genre  tends  to  produce 
some  feeling  of  repletion,  not 
to  say  indigestion. 

I  suppose  the  life  of  a  re- 
viewer of  novels  must  always 
be  one  perpetual  struggle  be- 
tween his  prejudices  and  his 
conscience.  "Oh,  I  say, "cries 
Prejudice,  "I  don't  like  this 
book  at  all."  "  Eead  on," 
replies  Conscience  sternly. 
"It's  a  perfectly  good  book. 
It  'a  simply  your  wicked  na- 
ture that  makes  you  object  to 
it."  I  tried  to  keep  an  open 

latest  work,  Two  Ways  of 


mind  while  reading  " IOTA'S 


Love  (HUTCHINSON),  but  it  was  not  easy.  You  see,  one 
of  my  prejudices  in  fiction  is  against  the  spectacle  of  two 
women  lighting  for  one  man.  I  never  can  bring  myself  to 
believe  that  any  man  is  worth  fighting  for.  And  here  Mrs. 
CAFFYN  has  so  drawn  Lord  Bentwicke's  character  that  I 
cannot  conceive  why  a  brilliant  woman  like  Gertrude 
Allonby  should  have  loved  him  ;  why  Dcnne,  the  dreamv 
Irish  girl,  should  ever  have  married  him,  and  why  some- 
body did  not  kick  him.  This  made  my  enjoyment  of  the 
book  intermittent.  I  could  see  the  technical  skill  of  it : 
some  of  the  situations  were  handled  with  a  firmness  and 
delicacy  which  won  my  complete  admiration  ;  and  among 
the  many  characters  in  the  story  there  were  few  that  were 
not  excellently  drawn.  But  I  could  not  sympathise.  Was 
this,  as  I  have  suggested,  due  simply  to  my  wicked  nature  ? 
It  is  worth  anyone's  while  to  read  the  book  and  see  for 
themselves,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  making  the  acquaintance 
of  Dcnne,  of  Elisabeth  her  sister,  of  Mrs.  Charteris,  and  of 
footman  George.  Those  of  you  who  happen  to  have  been 
at  Eugby  must  resist  the  temptation  to  throw  the  book 
down  and  stamp  on  it  when  you  come  to  Jerry.  That 
unpleasant  little  bounder  can  hardly  be  intended  to  repre- 
sent a  typical  Eugbeian.  Usually,  in  novels,  the  heroine's 
brother  goes  to  Eton.  It  was  a  rare  slice  of  luck  for  Eton 
that  Eugby  got  Jerry. 


DECEMBER  3 J,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    TIIK    LONDON    CIIAUiVAKF. 


539 


Effie  (anxious  to  do  some  thing  in  return  for  lur  parents'  Christinas  largesfe}.  "WELL,  BABY,  I  DCK'T  SKE  ANYTHING  WE  CAN  CIIVB 
DADDV  AND  MUMMY  IN  THESE  BILLY  BOOKS— AT  LEAtT,  NOT  FOB  IHBEEPENCE ;   BO  WE  SHALL  JUST  HAVE  TO  GIVE  IJIEU  THE  MUJ-EY 

AND   TELL  THEM   TO   DIVIDE  IT   BETWEEN    311    M." 


CHARIVARIA. 

A  SITE  for  a  National  Theatre  to  be 
established  as  a  Memorial  to  SHAK- 
SPKABE  has  now  been  secured.  We  are 
very  pleased  that  steps  are  being  taken 
to  prevent  the  memory  of  this  clever 
dramatist  from  perishing. 

"CHRISTMAS    PROSPECT. 
RAPID  CHANGES  TO  VERY  COLD. 
THE  QUEEN'S  SunpiutE  FOK  THE  KINO." 

Jjaily  Mail. 

We  doubt  whether  any  other  country 
has  a  (jucen  so  influential  as  this. 

"The luncheon  guests  at  10,  Downing 
Street,  last  evening,"  said  The  Cork 
Examiner  the  other  day,  "included  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Francis  B.  Sayie  and  Dr. 
Page."  It  is  always  difficult  to  impress 
Americans  with  our  originality,  but 
this  looks  like  a  very  brave  attempt. 

:;t     :;; 

M.  PEUOUD  is  to  receive  the  Cross  of 
the  Legion  of  Honour.  Will  he,  we 
wonder,  wear  it  upside  down  ? 

:;:     :]: 

Mr.  B.  C.  HUCKH,  last  week,  looped 
the  loop  for  the  eightieth  time.  There 
is  nothing  B.C.  about  Mr.  HUCKS 
except  his  initials. 


Considerable  difficulty  was  experi- 
enced at  the  Zoo  last  week  in  getting 
the  Polar  bears  to  leave  their  old  home 
and  take  up  their  new  quarters.  This 
was  due,  we  understand,  to  a  little  bit 
of  snobbery  on  the  part  of  the  bears. 
After  having  a  detached  villa  to  them- 
selves they  did  not  care  about  their 
address  being  changed  to  No.  1,  Mappin 
Terrace.  ...  ,,. 

We  see  from  an  advertisement  of 
the  "  Wonder  Zoo "  that  there  are 
appearing  at  the  Circus  two  "  Comical 
Clowns."  It  was  a  good,  idea  to  have 
comical  ones.  ...  ... 

Paris  having  started  the  vogue,  stout 
women  are  coming  into  fashion  again, 
and  many  of  them  who  have  been  in 
retreat  for  some  years  are  returning  to 
Town. 

'  * ' 

One  of  our  revolutionary  painters, 
we  learn  fiom  a  critique,  is  named 

BOMBERG.  ...    ». 

"  Why  has  practical  joking  on  the 
grand  scale  died  out  in  London  ? " 
asks  a  contemporary.  But  has  it? 
What  about  Mr.  LLOYD  GEORGE'S  Red 
Herring  ? 


From  The  Daily  News : — "  The  jury 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  evidence  for 
the  defence  stopped  the  case,  and  re- 
turned a  verdict  of  '  Not  guilty.'  The 
Judge  quite  agreed  with  the  verdict  in 
every  respect."  It  would  have  been 
unfortunate  if  the  Judge  had  agreed, 
for  instance,  with  only  the  second  half 

of  the  verdict.      ...  .., 

;:•• ' 

Sir  CHARLES  ERNEST  SCHWANN, 
Bart.,  Liberal  M.P.  for  North  Man- 
chester, announces  in  'Ihe  London 
Gazette  that  ho  has,  changed  liis  name 
to  Swann.  But  it  is  still  spelt  wrongly, 
Sir.  Try  again.  :;:  ... 

The  clerical  benediction  on  "  Who  "a 
the  Lady?"  has,  we  hear,  had  an 
unfortunate  result.  Muddle  -  headed 
people  are  now  mixing  up  Mr.  Louis 
MEYER  and  the  Kev.  F.  B.  MEYER— to 
the  great  annoyance  of  both. 

"The  Sydney  Sun,  referring  to  the  recent 
par-ado  cf  cadets  in  Melbourne,  says  that  the 
most  significant  feature  of  '  the  seven  miles 
and  a  half  of  khaki-clad  Australian  boys  was 
tho  fact  that  18,433  pairs  cf  boots  were  clean, 
18,433  puttees  wero  neat  and  dapper,  and 
18,433  brass  numcials  were  pclished.'  " 

What  was  wrong  with  the  other  18,433 
puttees  ? 


VOL.   CXLV. 


540 


PUNCH,    OK    TUP]    LONDON    CHAK1VAKI.  [DECKMIIKU  31,  1913. 


THE  TRUMPET:   A  CURE  FOR  BORES. 

"  Major  Hackelt  is  extremely  angry," 
said  Lady  Aldeisley  to  me.  "Ho 
insisted  upon  my  giving  him  Mr. 
Notion's  address.  He  intends  to  call 
on  him.  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Norton 
really  is  deaf  ?  I  wish  you  would  go 
and  see  him,  and  perhaps  give  him  a 
friendly  warning. " 

"  I  will,"  1  promised,  and  straight- 
way took  a  taxi  to  Percy's  flat,  where 
I  found  him  lounging  in  an  arm-chair, 
in  a  mood  of  quiet  self-satisfaction. 
Beside  him,  on  an  occasional  table, 
stood  an  oar-trumpet — not  one  of  those 
littlo  modern  devices  that  save  labour 
for  all  concerned,  but  one  of  tho  regular 
old-fashionod  trumpets  that  require  to 
ho  held  stiffly  by  the  listener  and 
violently  yelled  down  by  the  other 
person.  He  eyed  it  in  tho  friendliest 
manner  and,  almost  before  I'd  had  time 
to  light  one  of  his  cigarettes,  said  : 

"  Look  at  that !  It  "s  given  me  the 
most  delightful  evening  of  my  life." 

"  I  've  heard  about  the  evening,"  I 
assured  him.  "  Parts  of  it  at  least." 

"Have  you?"  ho  said  thoughtfully. 
"  Lady  Aldersley  annoyed?  " 

"  Major  Hackett  is.  She  wants  to 
know  it  you  are  deaf." 

"  No,"  said  Percy.  "  I  could  be 
again,  if  necessary,  but  I  'm  not — no." 

"Perhaps  you  had  better  tell  me  just 
what  happened,"  I  suggested. 

"  If  you  like."  He  lit  a  cigarette 
himself  and  puffed  at  it  serenely.  "It 
was  an  experiment,  as  a  matter  of  fact. 
I  was  reading  the  other  day  how  old 
HEKHERT  SPENCER  used  to  carry  cotton- 
wool about  with  him  to  put  in  his  ears 
when  conversation  bored  him .  It  struck 
me  as  a  neat  idea,  but  boorish  and  in- 
complete. Why  let  bores  go  on  boring? 
\Vliy  not  stop  them  ?  That  would  be  a 
lot  better  than  merely  ceasing  to  listen 
oneself.  Well,  I  happened  to  notice  that 
ear-trumpet  at  a  pawnbroker's  thesame 
day  that  I  read  about  old  SPENCER. 
Yesterday,  in  fact.  It  was  eighteen- 
pence  —  a  sum  I  possessed.  So  I 
bought  it,  and  took  it  with  me  to  Lady 
Aldorsley's  dinner.  I  knew  there  would 
be  some  bores  there.  Lady  Aldersley  "s 
charming,  but  she  likes  a  few  foils." 

"  Like  yourself  ?  " 

"Like  Major  Hackett,"  Percy  cor- 
rected. "  She  ought  not  to  have  had 
him.  He  's  one  of  those  men  that  can't 
keep  away  from  LLOYD  GEOKGK,  no 
matter  what  you  talk  about.  I  could 
hear  him  hanging  LLOYD  GEORGE,  and 
drowning  LLOYD  GEORGE,  and  poison- 
ing that  '  scoundrelly  Welsh  attorney  ' 
to  the  poor  girl  next  him  tho  whole  of 
dinner-time,  till  she  went  dumb  with 
fatigue;  and  the  moment  tho  women 
had  gone  out  he  tacked  himself  on  to 


mo  to  do  it  all  over  again.  There  are 
men  like  that  —  can't  leave  LT.OYD 
(l::oi:c,K  alone.  I've  no  use  for  him 
myself — all  tho  more  reason  why  I 
don't  want  to  hear  about  him  every  two 
minutes.  So  I  got  rny  trumpet  ready 
and  explained  that  I  was  a  bit  deaf, 
and  we  began  to  talk  hunting.  I  forget 
what  I  said  or  what  he  said,  but  at  the 
end  of  a  minute  there  he  was  at  it 
again. 

"  '  All  thanks  to  LLOYD  GKORGE  ! '  he 
said. 

"  '  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  '  I  said,  putting 
up  rny  trumpet. 

" '  I  said,  "  All  thanks  to  LLOYD 
GEORGE  !  "  '  he  yelled  down  it. 

"  '  Didn't  catcli,  I  'm  afraid,'  I  said, 
shaking  my  head  ;  and  he  butted  into 
tho  trumpet  again. 

" '  1  said  it  was  all  thanks  to  LLOYD 
GEORGE ! ' 

"  '  All  thanks  to  whom  ?  '  I  inquired. 

"  '  LLOYD  GEORGE,"  he  shouted.  He 
was  pretty  hoarse  by  then,  having 
talked  too  much  all  dinner-time,  but  1 
gave  him  another  chance  to  get  it 
right,  which  ho  accepted,  and  then  1 
said  :  '  1  can't  agree  with  you.  I  'm  a 
loyal  subject.  1  don't  see  that  the 
KING  is  in  the  least  to  blame.' 

"I  said  'LLOYD  GEORGE  —  LLOYD 
GEORGE,'  ho  bellowed,  and  I  removed 
the  trumpet  with  a  pretence  of  indig- 
nation. 

"  '  If  you  're  a  Socialist,'  I  said,  '  I  "d 
rather  not  discuss  the  matter  further." 

"  '  Socialist  1 '  he  panted.  '  Socialist ! 
Me  a  Socialist ! ' 

"  '  1  "m  afraid  so,"  I  said. 

"  He  tried  to  explain,  and  got  purple 
doing  it,  but  it  was  no  use,  and  he 
could  only  sit  and  glare  helplessly  till 
wo  went  into  the  drawing-room.  There 
I  heard  him  explaining  pitifully  to 
various  people  that  he'd  been  taken  for 
a  Socialist  by  that  deaf  man.  I  lost 
him  after  a  bit,  and  forgot  that  I  was 
deaf  for  the  evening.  The  fact  is  Lady 
Aldersley  introduced  me  to  a  very  pretty 
girl.  We  got  quite  friendly — I  fancy 
she  had  escaped  from  the  Major  too. 
Anyway  the  trumpet  was  not  in  use, 
and  we  were  chatting  away  as  in- 
timately as  possible  when  I  became 
aware  of  Major  Hackett  watching  us. 
From  his  expression  you  might  have 
thought  I  was  LLOYD  GEORGE.  I  tried 
to  get  the  trumpet  going,  hut  tho  girl 
got  up  just  then  and  said  she  must  find 
her  aunt  or  somebody,  and,  though  I 
stuck  to  her  for  as  long  as  possible,  the 
Major  stuck  on  too.  Tho  moment  I 
was  alone  he  was  down  on  me,  and  I 
hardy  had  time  to  elevate  the  trumpet 
when  he  began. 

"  '  Might  I  ask  whether  you  really  are 
deaf,  Sir ;  or  was  it  meant  for  a  joke  ?  ' 

"  'Didn't  quite  catch  you,'  I  said  as 


composedly  as  possible,  and  held  him 
oil'  with  the  trumpet. 

"  '  If  it  was  a  joke,  Sir — joke,"  ho 
stuttered. 

"  '  Ah,  you  mean  your  remark  about 
the  KING  ?  I  'm  very  glad'  to  hear  it 
was  a  joke.  Not  in  tho  best  of  taste 
perhaps,  but  still —  Good  night,  Sir,' 
I  said  coldly. 

"1  slipped  into  the  crowd  at  that, 
trumpet  and  all,  and  said  farewell  to 
Lady  Aldersley  as  soon  as  possible. 
Sorry  she 's  annoyed." 

Percy  finished  his  narrative  with  his 
cigarette,  and  was  about  to  begin 
another  when  the  telephone  rang. 

"  Excuse  me  a  moment,"  he  said, 
and  went  towards  it.  "  13y  Jove,"  ho 
went  on,  "  if  it  isn't  tho  Major.  Come 
and  listen  to  him,  old  chap.  Take  hold 
of  the  other  receiver.  Yes ;  this  is 
Mr.  Norton's.  Mr.  Percy  Norton's. 
Mr.  Norton  at  home  ?  No.  1  'm 
his  housekeeper.  Is  Mr.  Norton  deaf  ? 
Well,  he-  keeps  an  ear-trumpet,  Sir. 
Looks  like  ho  's  deaf,  Sir,  don't  it  ?  You 
don't  believe  he  is?  Well,  I  never. 
Couldn't  say  when  he'll  be  in,  Sir. 
He,'*  gone  abroad.  To  Lourdes,  Sir. 
To  get  his  deafness  cuied.  Faith-cure, 
Sir.  'Opes  to  come  back  with  'is  "ear- 
ing restored.  Is  that  all,  Sir  ?  Thank 
you,  Sir." 

The  Major  was  rung  off  at  that 
moment,  and  Percy  hung  up  the 
receiver. 

"  Persistent  old  boy,  isn't  he  ?  Care 
to  buy  an  ear-trumpet,  dear  chap  ? 
Always  useful  while  the  present 
Chancellor  is  in  office." 


SOME  NEW  YEAR   RESOLUTIONS 

(WE  HOPE). 

TSE  PIIIME  MINISTER.  —  To  see 
without  wailing. 

Mr.  GAIIYIN. — To  wait  before  seeing. 

Mr.  McKuNNA. — To  stiffen  his  back. 

Mrs.  PANKHVHST. — To  try  reason. 

Signor  VINCENZOPEP.PGIA. — To  con- 
fine his  energiesto  Post-Impressionisms. 

M.  CAILLAUX. — To  live  and  let  live. 

Lieut.  FOEBSTNES. — To  grow  up. 

TEKPSICHORE. — To  recall  tho  waltz. 

The  Central  London  Tube. — To  run 
lifts  in  connection  with  trains. 

"  The  Daily  Mail." — To  give  no  more 
portraits  of  Mr.  Mailiby-Daily. 

Mr.  THOMAK  HAUDT. — Not  to  allow 
any  more  cf  his  inferior  stories  to  be 
collected. 

Mr.  C.  B.  Fia-.— To  play  first-class 
cricket  again. 

Mr.  J.  W.  H.  T.  DoucL.iK.—To  hit 
in  England  as  in  S.A. 

Mr.  JACK  JOHNSON. — To  keep  out  of 
the  papsrs.  . 

Mr.LLOiD  ClroitGE. — To  have  a  little 
bit  of  mercy. 


PUNCH,  OB  THE  LONDON  CHABIVABL— DKCKMIIKK  31,  1913. 


THE    NEW    BRUHSWICKEB, 

(After  Sir  JOHK  MILLAIS'  "  The  Black  Bnmswicker.") 

TARIFF  REFORM  (to  Mr.  BONAB  LAW,  of  New  Brunswick  and  Bootk,  Lanes.).  "  DEAREST,  if UST  YOU 
LEAVE    ME    FOR    THE    ULSTER    WARS?" 

MB.  BONAB  LAW.  "I  FEAR  SO,  MY  LOVE;    BUT  ONLY   FOR  A  TIME,  ONLY  FOR  A  TIME." 


542 


OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.          [DECEMBER  31.  1913. 


TWO    POETS. 

I  KNK\V  a  pcct  once;  as  poets  go 

lie  was  a  most  companionable  man  ; 

And  oft  with  me,  \\lio  have  no  lyiic  art 

And  cannot  call  a  regiment  of  rhymes 

To  serve  my  purpose  as  a  poet  can, 

Ho  proved  his  skill  and  built  his  palace  of  song, 

Khyme  set  on  rhyme  and  verso  or  gleaming  verse, 

And  towers  of  music  gay  with  Haunting  tiags, 

So  that  I  marvelled,  saying,  "  If  for  me, 

Who  have  no  music,  he  can  thus  disclose 

His  high  majestical  and  airy  notes, 

How  will  it  ho  if  he  should  chance  to  meet 

Another  poet  tuneful  as  himself? 

Then  surely  SWINBURNE  will  be  left  behind 

And  MILTON  be  out-Miltoned  ;  SHAKBPEAHE'S  self 

Will  own  a  rival  and  the  Mermaid  Inn 

With  all  its  coruscations  be  revived." 

So  did  I  reason,  and  one  day  it  chanced 

As  I  had  hoped — he  met  a  second  poet ; 

And  those  two  talked,  and  I  myself  was  there 

And  heard  the  talk,  and  thereupon  went  home 

And  wrote  it  down,  and  this  is  how  it  ran : — 

First  Poet.  Yes,  that's  a  very  comfortable  chair, 

And  so  is  this ;  the  cushion  fits  your  back, 
And  you  can  stretch  your  legs.  7  like  to  stretch 
My  legs.    It  seems  to  make  digestion  work. 
Second  Poet.  If  my  digestion  could  be  got  to  work 

But  half  as  well  as  yours  1  'd  not  complain ; 
You  've  tamed  your  gastric  juices. 
First  Poet.  Yes,  I  've  done 

My  best  to  tame  them.    Have  a  cigarette? 

Second  Poet.  Thanks,    Yes,  I  've  got  a  match.     Oh,  blank 

the  thing! 

Its  head  broke  off  and  burnt  me — 
First  Poet.  It 's  a  way 

These  wooden  matchcshave.  Here,  try  another, 
Or,  better,  light  your  cigarette  from  mine. 

Second  Poet.  Puff,  puff— I  've  got  it,  thanks — puff — puff — 

puff— thanks. 

Where  do  you  get  your  cigarettes  ?    This  one 
Is  really  excellent ;  one  always  likes 
To  know  the  latest  man  for  cigarettes. 
First  Poet.  1  'rn  glad  you  like  them.    I  have  always 

smoked 

This  special  size.     I  get  them  in  Soho 
From  Boxley — he  is  quite  a  little  man, 
But  only  sells  the  best.     I  buy  them  there 
In  lots  of  half  a  thousand  at  a  time. 
Second  Poet.  Thanks,  let  me  write  it  down.   Soho,  you  said  ? 

First  Poet.  Church  Street,  Echo,  and  Boxley  is  the  name. 
I  quite  forget  the  Lumber,  buu  you  can't 
Mistake  the  shop. 
Second  Poet.  I  '11  order  some  to-morrow. 

First  Poet.  Mention  my  name ;  he  'a  sure  to  treat  vou 

well. 

Second  Pod.  Thanks.   It 's  a  very  long  time  since  I  've  been 
In  Soho,  but  I  used  to  know  it  well, 
With  all  its  funny  little  restaurants. 
First  Poet.  Things  change  so  quickly,  don't  they  ? 
Second  Poet.  Yes,  they  do. 

London  'a  much  altered  since  I  was  a  boy. 
First  Poet.  That's  very  true;  it's  hard  to  find  one's  way. 
The  County  Council  'a  pulling  all  things  down, 


And  what  with  taxi-cab  and  motor-bus 
It's  not  too  safe  to  walk  in  London  now. 
Second  Poet.  No,  that  it 's  not ;  however,  there  it  is. 

Such  was  the  talk  of  these  two  poet  fiiends. 
There  was  much  else,  but  the  above  may  servo 
To  show  the  working  of  their  mighty  minds. 


FURTHER  DEALINGS  OF  MR.  MALLABY-DEELEY. 

WE  have  it  on  the  highest  authority  that  Mr.  MALLABY- 
DEELEY  purchased  Manchester  last  week  for  a  sum  approxi- 
mating to  £16,000,000.  Mr.  MALLABY-DEELEY  chanced 
accidentally  to  hear  that  Manchester  was  in  the  market 
when  crossing  Piccadilly.  With  the  gieatest  nonchalance 
he  paused  and  wrote  a  few  figures  in  the  mud  with  his 
walking-stick,  dropped  into  a  telephone  box  and  bought 
the  lot.  It  is,  we  believe,  the  intention  of  the  enterprising 
Member  for  Harrow  to  spend  about  a  million  on  wash- 
ing Manchester,  and  then  to  put  it  on  the  market  as  a 
Garden  City. 

The  purchaser  of  Westminster  Abbey  and  the  House  of 
Commons,  about  whose  identity  so  much  cuiiosity  has 
bsen  expressed,  is  the  Member  for  the  Harrow  Division, 
Mr.  MALLABY-DEELEY.  It  is,  wo  believe,  his  intention  to 
erect  a  large  up-to-date  hotel  on  the  site  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  Mr.  MALLABY-DEELEY  is  of  opinion  that 
London  is  sadly  deficient  in  large,  bright  hotels,  and  he 
thinks  that  such  a  novelty  would  prove  a  successful  specu- 
lation. He  intends  to  reserve  Westminster  Abbey  for  his 
own  use,  and  all  admirers  of  business  enterprise  will  hope 
that  it  will  be  very  long  before  he  finds  a  use  for  it. 

It  is  understood  that  the  purchaser  of  Berlin  (including 
Potsdam)  is  Mr.  MALLAHY-DEELEY.  He  was  approaching 
the  fourteenth  hole  at  Mitcham  when  a  passing  aeroplanist 
informed  him  that  Berlin  was  for  sale.  Mr.  MALLABY- 
DEELEY  instantly  marconied  an  offer. 

Ho  wishes  it  to  be  understood  that  he  intends  to  give 
no  tenants  notice  to  quit.  In  reply  to  a  message  of  enquiry 
from  a  Very  High  Quarter  Mr.  MAI.LABY-DEE^EY  has  sent 
assurances  that  so  long  as  the  Palace  rent  is  paid  regularly 
no  questions  will  be  asked,  and  the  usual  allowances  for 
decorations  will  be  made  at  the  end  of  the  Spring  quarter. 

Our  own  representative  (who  only  gained  access  to  him 
by  the  innocent  pretence  of  being  a  Duke  fleeing  from  the 
greedy  hand  of  a  Chancellor)  found  Mr.  MALLABY-DEELEY 
engaged  in  opening  telegrams.  "  Offers  are  pouring  in  on 
me,"  explained  the  enterprising  M.P.  "  Only  this  morning 
1  have  been  asked  to  buy  the  manorial  rights  of  Pudsey,  the 
Isle  of  Man  (with  sole  use  of  its  advertising  agent),  and  two 
million  acres  of  deer-forest ;  and  here  is  a  wire  from 
General  HUEBTA  asking  what  is  my  spot-cash  price  for 
Mexico.  Of  course  to-day  is  net  what  I  call  a  really  busy 
day.  Do  look  in  to-morrow.  Perhaps  business  will  be 
stirring  then."  And  with  the  greatest  courtesy  Mr.  MALLABY- 
DEELEY  bowed  our  representative  out. 


"  Barbara  was  yesterday  persuaded  to  leave  her  old  quarters  at  the 
Zoo  and  rejoined  her  mate,  Sam,  in  the  new  Polar  bears'  enclosure. 
A  tempting  dish  of  fish,  after  having  nothing  to  out  for  a  day,  decided 
the  matter." — Daily  Express. 

Even  a  dish  of  fish  will  do  desperate  things  when  really 
hungry. 

In  reproducing  the  POET  LAUREATE'S  Christmas  Eve 
poem  a  contemporary  prints,  "  Now  blessed  %  the  towers" 
instead  of  "  Now  blessed  be  the  towers."  This  error  will 
probably  bo  cursed  by  the  BIUDGES. 


DKCEMBEB  31,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR   THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  513 


Delicate  Lady  (wilnessing  leap  for  life  l>y  old  gentleman  trho  has  no  lime  to  escape  ezcept  by  springing  en  bonnet  of  on-rushing  car). 

IKAUFUti   MAN,   DOISQ  THOSE  THICKS,    AND   ME   WITH  A.  WEAK  HEABT  I  " 


"DBKADFUL 


STUDIES   OF    EEVIEWEES. 

No.  IV. — THE  NEW  TOLERATION. 

A  NEW  novel  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Hector  Crow  is  like  a  benevolent  bomb- 
shell. Sedative  fiction,  no  doubt,  has 
its  virtues,  but  it  is  all  to  the  good  that 
we  should  be  blown  up  occasionally — 
not  in  the  sense  of  distentiou  —  by 
such  stimulating  writers  as  Mr.  Crow. 
Cotton-wool  is  an  excellent  thing  in  its 
way,  but  so  too  is  gun-cotton,  and  there 
is  no  author  now  before  the  public  who 
exerts  a  more  consistently  explosive 
influence  on  the  gentle  reader. 

H-is  latest  work,  The  Savour  of  Sin, 
is  the  life-hislory  of  a  rebel.  Mordred 
Blurt,  for  that  is  his  aptly-cho?en  name, 
is  expelled  from  a  public  school  for 
stabbing  his  fag,  a  deformed  and  deli- 
cate boy,  in  the  back,  and  resolves  to 
bo  revenged  on  the  social  code  which 
has  interfered  with  the  expression  of 
his  individuality.  Entering  the  Army 
under  the  alias  of  Philip  Sidney,  he 
sells  an  important  secret  to  a  foreign 
power,  but  contrives  to  fasten  incrimin- 
ating evidence  on  an  innocent  brother- 
officer,  who  is  sentenced  to  imprison- 
ment for  twenty  years.  Leaving  the 
Army  on  the  outbreak  of  war  he  marries 
a  rich  widow  with  three  children,  and 
after  forging  a  will  in  her  name, 
poisons  her  and  the  step-children  and 
i'  purchases  a  peerage  by  liberal  contri- 
j  butions  to  the  party  funds. 


To  speak  frankly,  his  career,  judged 
by  conventional  standards,  is  open  to 
criticism ,  but  so  convincing  is  Mr.  Cro  w  's 
art,  so  vivid  his  power  of  presentation, 
so  plausible  his  arguments,  that  our 
sympathy  is  enlisted  with  the  hero  at 
every  stage  of  his  chameleonic  ca/eer. 
Not  since  DUMAS  has  any  romancer  ex- 
ploited the  fine  art  of  toxicology  with 
such  superb  bravura,  while  the  insipidity 
of  orthodox  morality  has  never  been 
subjected  to  a  more  destructive  or 
]  exhilarating  criticism.  At  all  points 
'  Mordred  Dlttrt  is  spltndide  mendax  and, 
judged  by  •  the  test  of  uninterrupted 
success,  he  is  justified  all  along  the  line 
in  his  radiant  deviations  from  conven- 
tionality. It  is,  of  course,  possible  that 
some  minds  may  be  repelled  by  the 
wholesale  nature  of  his  revenge,  but 
there  is  an  artistic  fitness  in  its  com- 
pleteness which  compels  the  unstinted 
admiration  of  all  enlightened  intelli- 
gences. 

As  a  writer  in  a  leading  journal 
finely  put  it  the  other  clay,  dulness  and 
monotony  have  their  inevitable  penal- 
ties, while  vivacity  and  courage  have 
their  assured  triumphs.  No  broad- 
minded  critic  can  therefore  grudge 
Mr.  Crow  the  vogue  which  he  enjoys 
in  virtue  of  his  enforcement  of  this 
great  doctrine.  Whether  his  novel  is 
altogether  suitable  for  the  nursery,  or 
can  be  safely  entrusted  to  readers  who 
think  they  are  justified  in  slavishly 


imitating  the  actions  of  characters  in  a 
novel,  are  matters  on  which  wo  feel 
ourselves  under  no  obligation  to  pass 
an  opinion.  It  is  enough  for  us  that 
Mr.  Crow  has  written  a  brilliant  and 
beautiful  book.  More  than  any  of  his 
compeers  lie  has  revealed  to  us  the 
endearing  aspects  of  criminality  and 
the  compelling  charm  of  the  Cad. 

"Histry  Paper. 

1.  Six    events     in     the     roign    of 
Henery  VI1II. 

(1)  lie     married     Kalherien     of 

Araggon. 

(2)  He  soon  got  tired  of  her. 

(3)  He  wanted  to  get  rid  of  her. 
<4)  He  wanted  a  divors. 

(5)  He  got  a  divors  for  her. 

(6)  I  don't  no. 

2.  Wolsey  was  called  tho  boy  bach- 
elour  because    ho    passed   tho  labour 
examination    when    ho    was  fourteen. 
My  sister  passed  it  when  she  was  twelve. 

3.  On  the  side  of  the  king  there  were 
all  the  people  who  had  long  hair  but 
when   they   had   their   hair   cut  short 
they  went  on  tho  side  of  parlyment." 

Scene  outside  an  Islington  Picture- 
house  : — 

"SNATCHED  FROM  DEATH 

IN  3  PARTS." 

It  would,  perhaps,  have  been  kinder  to 
leave  him  alone. 


044 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI.          [DECEMBEB  si,  1913. 


I 


THE   ANTIQUE. 

(Anticipating  an  article  in  "The 
Mia,  ii  :ine  i>f  the  Citrto  Collector" 
for  November,  2113  .<.z>.) 

GBANFKB  JAHGE  sat  at  the  door  of 
his  model  cottage,  chewing  his  patent 
plug  and  apparently  oblivious  of  the 
approach  of  the  well-dressed  stranger. 
The  latter,  James  \\ilberforco  to  be 
exact,  appeared  to  bo  equally  oblivions 
of  Granter  Jarge  and  the  model  cottnge, 
prominently  displayed  in  the  window 
of  which  was  an  old  wooden  box  about 
ten  inches  long  by  six  deep.  Than 


this   nothing   appealed    to    be 
from    the   thoughts   of   both, 
suddenly    noticed  each  other 
changed  greetings. 

"Hal"    said   Wilberforco 
"and  how  goes  the  world 
with  you,  my  friend?" 

"It  be  a  pleasant  day, 
Zur,"  said  .large. 

Conversation  having  con- 
tinued in  this  strain  for 
i  half  an  hour  or  so,  Wilber-  ' 
j  force  at  last  mentioned, 
j  quite  incidentally,  the  box. 
]  "  A  curious  old  thing,"  said 
i  he. 

"  Ay,  that  it  be,"  said 
Jarge,  and  the  conversation 
turned  to  other  topics. 

It  was  Jarge  who  brought 
it  back.  "  My  granfer,  he 
used  to  keep  his  bits  of 
string  in  that  same  box, 
and  his  granfer  before  him 
he  used  to  keep  his  bits  of 
string  in  it,  and  his  gran- 
fer -  " 


further 
as  they 
and 


ex- 


genially, 


"  I  wouldna  part  with  that  there 
box  for  three  hundud  pound,"  pursued 
Jarge  with  all  the  obstinacy  of  a 
foolish  old  man. 

"  We  '11  try  you  with  two  hundred," 
said  Wilberforce  jocundly. 

"  But  I  might  let  you  have  it  for  four 
htuidud,  seeing  as  you  wants  it  so  bad." 

"Toon!"  scoffed  the  other.  "I'll 
not  go  a  penny  beyond  two  fifty." 

•large  became  businesslike.  "I'll 
tell  yen  what  1  will  do  for  you,  Sir. 
I  '11  take  three  iifty,  spot  cash." 


In   his  excitement   Wilberforce 


not  notice,  as  you  have  done,  that. 
Jargo  had.  dropped  his  various  foims  of! 
lingo.  He  offered  three  hundred  pounds, ' 
made  it  guineas,  and  the  box  was  his. 

"This,   Sir,"  said  the  Bond    Street '. 


"  And  you  ?  "  asked  Wil- 
berforce  politely. 

"  I  keeps  my  bits  of 
it  too." 

Wilberforce   picked   it   up 


HOW  TO  MAKE  MONEY   QUICKLY. 
Advertise  in  the  papers  :  "How  TO  DKAW.     BECOME  A 
CARICATURIST  IN  ONE  LESSON.     FEE,  '2s.  6d.  (PAYABLE  IN 

string 


"I  bought  it,"  the  dealer  went  on, 
"  off  an  incompetent  old  man  who  had 
no  idea  what  he  was  selling.  He  kept 
bits  of  string  in  it,  if  you  please !  If  I 
had  cared  to  deceive  him,  I  could  have 
got  it  for  a  mere  song ;  as  it  was,  I 
gave  him  five  hundred  pounds,  and  he 
thought  I  was  mad.  It  is  worth  every 
penny  of  five  thousand,  but  I'll  let  you 
have  it  for  four.  There  !  " 

The  customer  was  passing  his  finger 
over  the  surface  of  it  gently  and  still 
said  nothing. 

"  Heal  old  cedar,  the  very  best. 
Undoubted  nails  and  a  remnant  of  the 
quaint  picture  still  attached  to  the 
inside  of  the  hd  .  .  .  Dash  it  all,  Sir, 
it  is  an  absolutely  authentic  Colo  ado 
Claro,  made  by  the  hand  of  the  Spanish 
Master  himself,"  and  ho  pointed  to  the 
-  .signature  on  the  end. 

The  customer  opened  his 
mouth  at  last.  "  Have  you 
taken  your  penknife  and 
tried  to  cut  a  bit  off  it  ?  ... 
I  only  say  tried,  for  you 
could  not  succeed.  Why, 
man,  it's  a  fake;  ingenious, 
if  you  like,  but  a  fake.  It 
,  is  cast  in  one  piece,  with 
imitation  nails  and  polish. 
Cast  out  of  nothing  more 
:  valuable  than  alumitio- 
radio-plalinmn  and  not 
worth  five  shillings  !  " 

The  customer  (in  reality 
the  secret  buyer  of  another 
dealer)  was  right ;  the  thing 
was  cast  metal,  and  it  WMS 
Jarge  that  cast  it  ... 


LIGHTNING 
ADVANCE)." 


and 


amined  it  with  studied  indifference. 
"I  should  rather  like  one  of  these," 
said  he. 

Jarge  dared  say  he  would.     "They 
be  hard   come   by  these  days  and   I 


in  Dealer  in  Curios  and  Antiques,  James 
'Wilberforce  to   be    exact,   "this   is   a 
genuine  old  English  cigar  box,  twentieth 


ex- 


wouldna  part  with  that  one  for 
hundud  pound,  that  I  wouldna." 


twa 


Wilberforce  laughed  merrily  at  this. 
"  I  expect  if  I  were  to  offer  you  thirty 
shillings  down ?  " 

"  I  wouldna  part  with  that  for  twa 
hundud  and  fifty  pound,"  said  Jarge  in 
an  even  voice,  looking  away  into  the 
far  distance. 

Wilberforce  seized  the  opportunity 
to  examine  his  face  closely.  Then  he 
laughed  again  cheerfully.  "  We  '11  test 
that,  my  friend,"  he  declared  boister- 
ously. "Just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing 
I  offer  you  a  hundred  sovereigns  for  it 
now — not  that  it's  worth  a  tenth  of 
that  sum." 


century,  no  less.  It  is  made  of  genuine 
cedar  wood,  now  almost  unobtainable ; 
it  is,  as  you  will  see-,  in  precisely  six 
separate  pieces.  Ah !  you  don't  see 
work  like  that  nowadays  !  " 

The  customer  observed  a  non-com- 
mittal silence;  he  was  no  amateur  in 
these  matters. 

"  You  are  aware,  no  doubt,"  continued 
the  dealer,  fingering  the  box  delicately, 
"that  before  the  hermetically  sealed 
metal  cases  became  known,  and  in  days 
when  the  cigar  was  only  smoked  by 
the  pick  of  the  aristocracy,  these  elegant 
receptacles  were  used  for  the  storing  of 
the  weed.  How  it  is  that  so  few  of 
them  have  survived  is  a  mystery,  only 
to  be  explained  by  the  vandal  tendencies 
of  the  twenty -first  century 
Absolutely  in  its  original  state,  Sir! 
A  beautiful  thing  indeed." 

The  customer  took  it  in  his  hand. 


Is  it  not  a  dismal  thought 
that  the  climax  of  universal 
education,  upon  which  tins 
century  prides  itself,  so  far  from 
eradicating  from  the  humble  peasant 
all  desire  to  defraud,  should  have 
supplied  him  with  the  necessary 
wits  to  do  so  ?  Is  it  not  an  even  more 
dismal  thought  that  the  model  cottage 
(with  garden,  acres  and  cow  on  the 
intensive  system  attached),  in  which 
Jarge  now  plies  his  profitable  and 
nefarious  trade,  was  built  for  him  gratis 
by  a  kindly  Government,  on  the  distinct 
understanding  that  he  had  not  a  penny 
in  the  world  wherewith  himself  to 
provide  a  rcof  for  his  poor  old  wicked 
head  ? 

From  the  legend  under  a  picture  in 
The  Sphere : — 

"This  charming  camera  study  shows  a 
little  Lupland  boy  in  the  arms  of  his  mother 
and  singing  away  under  the  impulse  of  a 
Christmas  feed  which  he  already  scents  in 
the  air.  There  is  no  doubt  about  this  little 
fellow  being  the  son  of  his  mother." 

We  believe  The  Sphere  to  be  right. 


DBOEMIIKB  31,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THK    LONDON    Ci  I A  K  I  V.\  II  \. 


515 


Belated  LuncJier.   "I  SAY,  WHKIIE  js  MY  WAITRESS?    THE  COFFEE  's  GETTIXO  COLD  ASD  TUF.BE  'a  so  SUQAB  AHD  no 
Waitress.  "THAT'S  'EB;    SHE'S  OFF  THURSDAYS  AT  3.15." 


NARROW    ESCAPES. 

THE  Grand  Duko  Gabriel,  while 
playing  a  round  of  golf  at  Biarritz  last 
week,  narrowly  escaped  what  might 
have  boon  a  fatal  injury.  In  the  act  of 
driving  off  from  the  thirteenth  tee  the 
Grand  Duke  sliced  his  ball  with  such 
force  into  the  tee-box  that,  in  bounding 
back,  it  narrowly  missed  his  head,  and 
killed  a  wood-pigeon  in  mid-air  at  a  dis- 
tance of  some  sixty  yards.  The  Grand 
Duke,  though  naturally  much  shaken,  is 
reported  to  be  making  satisfactory  pro- 
gress, and  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  allowed 
out  in  a  week  or  so. 

Sir  Hubert  Ssebohm-Wood,  the  cele- 
brated actor-manager,  slipped  on  a 
piece  of  orange  peel  just  outside  the 
stage  door  of  the  Pall  Mall  Theatre 
last  Saturday  at  7.30  P.M.  Being 
always  is  perfect  condition  Sir  Hubert 
managed  to  avoid  falling  by  cleverly 
clinging  to  the  neck  of  a  passer-by, 
and  beyond  a  slight  wrench  to  the 
metatarsal  muscles  of  his  medulla 
oblongata  sustained  no  injury.  He 
lias,  however,  been  ordered  complete 
rest  for  two  or  three  days,  and  is 
unable  to  respond  to  all  the  congratu- 
latory telegrams  which  he  has  received 
on  his  fortunate  escape. 


It  is  not  generally  known  that 
M.  Caracole  Prance,  the  world-re- 
nowned French  litterateur,  was  within 
an  aco  of  being  permanently  disabled 
during  his  recent  sojourn  in  London. 
Ho  was  walking  down  Vigo  Street  in 
company  with  his  inseparable  friend, 
the  eminent  publisher,  Mr.  Long  Jane, 
when,  just  as  they  were  turning  into 
Sackville  Street,  a  boy  who  was  playing 
tip-cat  on  the  pavement  smote  the 
projectile  with  deadly  precision  straight 
at  the  face  of  the  Master.  With  a  self- 
sacrificing  agility  that  cannot  be  too 
highly  commended,  Mr.  Long  Jane 
rushed  forward,  intercepting  the  missile 
on  his  massive  chin.  The  force  of  the 
impact  was  so  groat  that  one  at  least 
of  Mr.  Jane's  molars  was  slightly 
loosened,  but  being  a  man  of  iron  con- 
stitution ho  was  able  to  attend  the 
Reception  at  the  Richmond  Galleries 
that  night  and  to  breakfast  next  morning 
along  with  M.  Prance  at  Sir  Albert 
Blond's.  We  understand  that  repre- 
sentations have  been  made  to  the 
Royal  Humane  Society  with  a  view  to 
their  bestowing  their  Gold  Medal  on 
Mr.  Long  Jane  for  his  conspicuous 
liruvory.  The  offender,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  boon  sent  for  ten  years  to 
Borstal. 


Mile.  Nydia  Vassiline.  the  Russian 
dancer,  had  an  unpleasant  adventure 
while  staying  for  the  week-end  with 
Sir  Samuel  and  Lady  Hornblower  at 
Koshervillo  Park.  On  Sunday  after- 
noon, while  the  house  party  wore  taking 
a  stroll  in  the  demesne,  a  bull  in  an 
adjoining  field,  attracted  no  doubt  by 
the  rod  toque  which  Mile.  Vassiline 
was  wearing,  rushed  up  to  tho  fence 
and  emitted  several  menacing  bellows. 
With  great  presonceof  mindSir  Samuel, 
reaching  over  the  fence,  which  was 
only  about  six  feet  high,  struck  the  in- 
furiated animal  several  hard  blows  on 
the  nose  with  his  walking-stick,  while 
Mile.  Vassiline  was  assisted  in  a  pros- 
trate condition  to  an  adjacent  summer- 
house.  Dr.  Bilbury  Stoot,  who  was 
at  onco  summoned,  states  that  at 
her  present  rate  of  improvement 
Mile.  Vassiline  ought  to  bo  able  to  re- 
sume her  engagement  at  the  Bolosseum 
in  about  a  fortnight's  time. 

"The  pilot  waved  bis  hand.     It  was  Ix>rd 
1-kl ward   Cirosvenor  up  alone,   but   TCTJ   low 
people  knew  it.    However,  ho  kept  his  head." 
Cheshire  Obtercer. 

Our  aristocracy  is  not  so  effete  as 
some  people  make  out,  if  it  can  bear 
successfully  a  shock  like  this. 


54G 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  31.  1913. 


THE  KING'S  SONS. 

"  TELL  me  a  story,"  said  Marycry. 

"  What  sort  of  a  story  I" 

"  A  f aii y  story,  because  it 's  Clirislmas 
time." 

"But  you  know  all  the  fairy  stones." 

••  Tit'  ii  I <'ll  iitt:  a  new  fairy  story." 

•'  lii'jh'.,"  I  said. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  King 
who  luul  three  sons.  The  oldest  son 
was  a  very  thoughtful  youth.  Ho 
always  had  a  reason  for  everything 
ho  did,  mid  sometimes  he  would  say 
things  like  "Economically  it  is  to  the 
advantage  of  the  State  that—  "  or 
••The  civic  interests  of  the  community 
demand  that— "before  doing  something 
specially  horrid.  He  didn't  want  to  be 
unkind  to  anybody,  but  he  took  what 
he  called  a  "large  view"  of  things; 
and  if  you  happened  to  ask  for  a  third 
help  of  plum-pudding  he  took  the  large 
view  that  you  would  be  sorry  about  it 
next  morning — and  so  you  didn't  have 
your  plum-pudding.  He  was  called 
Prince  Proper. 

The  second  son  was  a  very  wise 
youth.  You  couldn't  catch  him  any- 
how. If  you  asked;  him  whether  he 
knew  the  story  of  the  three  wells,  or 
"  Why  does  a  chicken  cross  the  road  ?" 
or  anything  really  amusing  like  that, 
he  would  always  say,  "  Oh,  I  heard  that 
years  ago !  "—and  whenever  you  began 
"Adam  and  Eve  and  Pinchme"  he 
would  pinch  you  at  once  without 
waiting  like  a  gentleman  until  you  had 
got  to  the  end  of  the  verse.  He  was 
called  Prince  Clever. 

And  the  third  son  was  just  wonder- 
fully beautiful.  He  had  the  most 
marvellously  pink  cheeks  and  long 
golden  hair  that  you  have  ever  seen. 
1  don't  much  care  for  that  style  myself, 
but  in  the  country  in  which  he  lived  it 
was  admired  more  than  I  can  tell  you. 
He  was  called  Prince  Goldenlocks.  I  '11 
give  you  three  guesses  why. 

Now  the  King  had  reigned  a  long 
time,  salon"  that  he  was  tired  of  being 
king,  and  he  often  used  to  wonder 
which  of  his  sons  ought  to  succeed 
him.  Of  course  nowadays  they  never 
wonder,  and  the  eldest  son  becomes 
king  at  once,  and  quite  right  too  ;  but 
in  those  days  it  was  generally  left  to 
the  sons  to  prove  which  among  them- 
selves was  the  most  worthy.  Some- 
times they  would  all  be  sent  out  to  find 
the  magic  Dragon's  Tooth,  and  only 
one  would  come  back  alive,  which 
would  save  a  lot  of  trouble;  or  else, 
after  a  lot  of  discussion,  they  would  be 
told  to  go  and  find  beautiful  Princesses 
for  themselves,  and  the  one  which 
brought  back  the  most  beautiful 
Princess— but  very  often  that  would 
Lad  to  another  discussion.  The  best 


way  of  all  was  to  call  in  a  Fairy  to 
help.  A  Fairy  has  all  sorts  of  tricks  for 
finding  out  about  you,  and  her  favourite 
plan  is  to  pretend  to  be  something  else 
and  see  what  you  do. 

So  the  King  called  in  a  Fairy  and 
said  :  "  To-morrow  1  am  sending  out 
my  three  sons  into  the  world  to  seek 
their  fortune.  I  want  you  to  test  them 
for  me  and  find  out  which  is  the  most 
fitted  to  succeed  to  my  throne.  If  it 
should  happen  to  be  Prince  Goldenlocks 
— but,  of  course,  I  don't  want  to  in- 
fluence you  in  any  way." 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  said  the  Fairy. 
"  You  agree,  no  doubt,  that  the  quality 
most  desirable  in  a  king  is  love  and 
kindliness — 

"  Y-yes,"  said  the  King  doubtfully. 

"  I  was  sure  of  it.  Well,  I  have  a 
way  of  putting  this  quality  to  the  test 
which  lias  never  yet  failed."  And  with 
that  she  vanished.  She  could  have 
gone  out  at  the  door  quite  easily,  but 
she  preferred  to  vanish. 

I  expect  you  know  what  her  way 
was.  You  have  read  about  it  often  in 
your  fairy  hooks.  On  the  next  day,  as 
Prince  Proper  was  coming  along  the 
road,  she  appeared  suddenly  in  front  of 
him  in  the  shape  of  a  poor  old  woman. 
•  "  Please  give  me  something  to  buy  a 
crust  of  bread,  pretty  gentleman,"  she 
pleaded.  "  I  'm  starving." 

Prince  Proper  looked  at  her  sternly. 

"  Economically,"  he  said,  "  it  is  to 
the  advantage  of  the  State  that  the 
submerged  classes  should  be  a  charge 
on  the  Stats  itself  and  not  on  indi- 
viduals. The  civic  interests  of  the 
community  demand  that  promiscuous 
charity  should  be  sternly  discouraged. 
Surely  you  see  that  for  yourself  ?  " 

The  Fairy  didn't  quite.  The  lan- 
guage had  taken  her  by  surprise.  In 
all  her  previous  adventures  of  this  kind, 
two  of  the  young  Princes  had  refused 
her  roughly,  and  the  third  had  shaved 
his  last  piece  of  bread  with  her.  This 
adventure  was  going  all  wrong. 

"  Let  me  explain  it  to  you  more  fully," 
went  on  Proper,  and  for  an  hour  and 
twenty-seven  minutes  he  did  so.  Then 
he  went  on  his  way,  leaving  a  dazed 
Fairy  behind  him. 

By-and-by  Prince  Clever  came  along. 
Suddenly  he  saw  a  poor  old  woman  in 
front  of  him. 

"  Please  give  me  something  to  buy  a 
crust  of  bread,"  she  pleaded.  "I'm 
starving." 

Prince  Clever  burst  into  a  roar  of 
laughter. 

"  You  don't  catch  me,"  he  said. 
"I  've  read  about  this  a  hundred  times. 
You  "re  not  an  old  woman  at  all ;  you  'ro 
a  Fairy." 

"  W-what  do  you  mean?"  she  stam- 
mered. 


"  This   is   a   silly   test   of    Father's. 
Well,  you  can  tell  him  he  's  got  one  son  . 
who 's   clever   enough    to  see  through 
him."     And  he  went  on  his  way. 

By-and-by  Prince  Goldenlocks  came 
along.     I  need  not  say  that  he  did  all; 
that  you  would  expect  of  a  third  and  ] 
youngest   son    who   had   pink   cheeks,  j 
long  golden  hair  and  (as  I   ought  to; 
have  said  before)  a  very  loving  nature,  i 
He  shared  his  last  piece  of  bread  with 
the  poor  old  woman  .  .  . 

(Surely  he  will  get  the  throne  ! ) 

13ut  the  Fairy  was  an  honest  Fairy. 
She  did  understand  Proper's  point  of! 
view  ;  sho  had  to  admit  that,  if  Clever 
saw    through    her    deception,    it    was 
honourable   of   him    to    have   said   so.  • 
And  though,  of  course,  her  loving  heart 
was  all  for  Prince  Goldenlocks  she  felt; 
that  it  would  not  be  fair  to  award  the: 
throne  to  him  without  a  further  trial. ; 
So  she  did  another  thing  that  she  was 
very  fond  of  doing.     She  changed  her-; 
self  into  a  pretty  little  dove  and — right  i 
in   front   of   Prince   Proper — sho   llevvj 
with  a  hawk  in  pursuit  of  her.      "  Now  I 
we    shall    see,"   she    said    to   herself,! 
"which  of   the   three  youths  has  the; 
softest  heart." 

You  can  guess  what  Proper  said. 

"Life,"  he  said,  "is  one  constant* 
battle.  Nature,"  he  said,  "is  ruthless,! 
and  the  weakest  must  go  to  the  wall.' 
If  I  kill  the  hawk,"  he  said,  "  I  am  kindj 
to  the  dove,  but  am  I,"  he  said,  and  I  .; 
think  there  was  a  good  deal  in  this — 
"  am  I  kind  to  the  caterpillar  or  what-. 
ever  it  is  that  the  dove  eats?"  Of  ' 
course,  you  know,  there  is  that  to  be 
thought  of.  Anyhow,  after  solilo- 
quising for  forty-seven  minutes  Prince 
Proper  went  on  his  way ;  and  by-and- 
by  Prince  Clever  came  along. 

You  can  guess  what  Clever  said. 

"My  whiskers!"  he  said,  "this  is 
older  than  the  last.  I  knew  this  in  my 
cradle."  With  one  of  those  nasty 
sarcastic  laughs  that  I  hate  so  much  he 
went  on  his  way  ;  and  by-and-by  Prince 
Goldenlocks  came  along. 

(Now  then,  Goldenlocks,  the  throne 
is  almost  yours !) 

You  can  guess  what  Goldenlocks 
said. 

"  Poor  little  dove,"  he  said.  "  But  I 
can  save  its  life." 

Eapidly  he  fitted  an  arrow  to  his  bow 
and  with  careful  aim  let  fly  at  the 
pursuing  hawk  .  .  . 

I  say  again  that  Prince  Goldenlocks 
was  the  most  beautiful  youth  you  have 
ever  seen  in  your  life,  and  he  had  a  very 
loving  nature.  But  he  was  a  poor  shot. 

He  hit  the  dove  .  .  , 

"Is  that  all  !•  "  said  Margery. 

"  That 's  all,"  I  said.     "  Good  night." 

A.  A.  M. 


DECEMBEB  31.  1913.]  PUNCH.    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  547 

THE    PANTOMIME    SONG. 


TIME — A  Jew  days  before  the  QpMMfl  Xiyltt, 
Father  (reading  the  icords  of  new  pantomime  sony) 

"  '  Come  with  mo  to  Demerara ; 

'Neath  the  palm-trees  wo  will  stray  ; 
Bid  farewell  to  pain  and  sorrow  ; 

Our  love  will  grow  from  day  to  day.' 
THAT'S  THE  SILLIEST  HOT  I  EVEB  READ.    How  CAS  PEOPLE  BE  PAID  TO  BINO  SUCH  BOSH,  Ac.,  Ac." 


S.    "COME   WITH   ME  TO  &EMERARA,    &C.,   &C." 

Father.  "Noi  BAD,  EH?    SEEMS  DIFFERENT  SOMEHOW  WHEN  YOU  HEAR  IT  suso." 


TIME— A  u-eek  later. 
The  Family  (all  together,  with  zest).  "  COME  WITH  ME  TO  DEMERARA,  Ac.,  Ac." 


548 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  31,  1913. 


NO  PEISMAT1C  HAIB  FOE  MEN 
THE  DECISION  OF  THE  NUT  KING. 
THE   new  fashion,   which    is   being 
introduced   into   London    from    Paris 
of  brightly  coloured  hair  for  women,  to 
go  with  different  costumes,  has  been 
causing. considerable  panic  in  lower  Nu 
ircles,  but  happily  their  unrest  is  nov 
over. 

A  West    End    coiffeur    having    ox 
jressed  himself  in  print  as  favouring  the 
nevy  feminine  mode,  and  recommendec 
•arious  shades  of  hair-dye  in  green  am 
)lue    and    purple,    a   number  of    the 
nioie  noticeable  Nuts  began  to  wonder 
whether  or  not  some  such  adjunct  to 
their  beauty  would  not  also  be  forced 
upon  them.     But  the  heart  of  Nutville 
|  now  beats  normally  once  more.     The 
'  fiat  has  gone  forth. 

Interviewed  by  a  representative  of 
Mr.  Punch,  the  leading  Nut,  or  Philo- 
pena,  declared  firmly  against  any  such 
change.  "  Our  trouble  is  this,"  he  said. 
"  We  feel  that  we  must  keep  pace  with 
the  girls.  Yet  no  self-respecting  Filbert 
could  dye  bis  moustache  blue  or  green. 
For  two  reasons.  One  is  that  he  dis- 
likes the  idea;  the  other,  that  very 
likely  he  has  no  moustache.  All  Bar- 
celonas  do  not  have  moustaches.  Some 


don't  like  them  ;  others  can't  grow  them. 
A  Nut  is  no  less  a  Nut  bacause  he  is 
clean-shaved.  It  is  the  hair  that  tells 
with  a  Nut,  not  the  moustache  ;  and  no 
Nut  wants  green  or  blue  hair." 

"  But  surely,"  our  representative  said, 
"  if  you  had  neckties  and  socks  to  match, 
your  hair  might  be  very  charming  if  it 
were  dyed.  Think  of  the  symphony ; 
you  might'  even  be  in  danger  of  being 
stolen,  like  Leonardos." 

"  We  are  now,"  he  said  with  pride. 

"Do  not  be  impetuous  in  resisting  so 
alluring  an  adjunct,  I  implore  you,"  said 
our  representative  as  ho  rose  to  leave. 

The  Nut  King  pondered  for  a  moment. 
'No,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  think  not. 
Let  the  ladies  have  it  alone.  We  must 
be  magnanimous  now  and  then." 


BEYOND  BEFOBM. 
GRIDLEY  was  an  average  sort  of 
man,  such  as  you  may  see  in  Throg- 
morton  Street  on  any  day  of  the  week 
except  Sunday.  Yoneril,  on  the  other 
land,  was  a  teetotaler,  non-smoker, 
sarly  riser,  two-meal-a-day  vegetarian' 
-and,  if  you  can  think  of  anything 
)lse  of  that  sort,'  he  was  that  as  well, 
still,  Voneril  was  sometimes  human; 
ie  bad  not  always  been  these  things. 


Being  a  plain,  normal  man,  Gridley 
possessed  a  capacity  for  making  good 
resolutions;  and  tlie  end  of  the  year 
found  him  talking  to  Voneril  at  the 
club  with  that  anxious  expression  on 
his  face  which  the  turner-over  of  new 
leaves  is  accustomed  to  wear. 

"Thank  you  for  telling  mo  all  about 
vegetarianism,"  said  Gridley  gloomily, 
"but  1  really  do  not  think  it  would 
suit  me.  At  the  same  time  I  must 
make  an  effort  to  limit  myself  to,  say, 
three  square  meals  a  day  in  the  New 
Year.  And  I  am  not  sure  that  it  would 
not  be  well  for  me  to  knock  off  a  cigar 
or  two" — and  as  he  continued  his 
appearance  became  more  and  more 
dejected. 

"  Well,  Gridley,"  said  Voneril  briskly, 
his  healthy  face  beaming  genially, 
"  while  I  admit  that  men  with  habits 
like  mine  have  a  rotten  time  at 
Christmas,  you  must  agree  that  they 
are  saved  a  lot  of  worry  when  the 
New  Year  comes." 

English  as  she  is  wrote. 

"The  sort  of  Champagne  ono's  guests,  on 
tasti,  g  the  first  glass,  turn  to  their  host  with 
an  unspoken  look  of  admiration."— Adrt. 
Can  it  bo  that  "  return  "  is  meant,  the 
admiration  being  for  his  pluck? 


K 

a 
K 
i 


a 
o 


o 
o 


w 

E-i 

P3 
O 

W" 
O 


fn 


O 

-tj 

H 


W 

H 


W 


DKCF.MUKK  :il,  1913.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVAllf. 


NEW    YEAR    NOVELTIES. 

Mr.  Punch  is  glad  to  note  that  tlic 
sensible  custom  is  spreading  of  choosing 
gifts  that  will  be  of  practical  use  to 
their  recipients  during  the  Now  Year. 
He  is  pleased  to  give  publicity  to  a  few 
of  the  novelties  displayed: — 

Messrs.  Armstrong-Bilberry  have 
devised  the  "  CIVILWAR  SHUTOUT," 
a  smart  slip-on  garment  that  should  he 
very  popular  during  the  social  in- 
clemencies of  1914.  This  sound  and 
protective  storm-coat  is  woven  through- 
out of  the  iinest  Harvey ised  steel,  and 
reinforced  over  the-  heart  by  three-inch 
plating.  Loopholes  for  revolver  fire 
in  street  fighting  are  cleverly  masked 
by  the  large  black-and-white  check 
pattern  which  is  painted  on  this  really 
natty  overcoat  of  the  man  about  town. 
They  also  ensure  the  ventilation  so 
essential  in  all  heavy  garb. 

The  "Civilwar"  has  already  caught 
on.  Orders  have  been  received  from 
Mr.  JOHN  REDMOND,  Lord  LONDON- 
DERRY, Sir  EDWARD  CARSON,  Mr.  JAMES 
LARKIN  an,d  several  other  leaders  who 
favour  a  stout  equipment  against  the 
disturbances  of  what  promises  to  be  an 
exceptionally  stormy  year.  Travellers 
contemplating  the  crossing  of  the  Irish 
Sea  cannot  he  given  a  more  useful 
present  than  the  "  Civilwar  Surtout." 

The  increasing  number  of  golfers 
who  naturally  resent  the  interruption 
by  business  of  the  real  game  of  life  will 
welcome  the  sporting  little  "  PUTTUM- 
BRELLA  "  sold  by  Messrs.  Hopage  and 
Co.  The  removable  knob  of  this  um- 
brella is  a  veritable  "gutty,"  disguised 
by  Japanese  carvings  that  give  an  ex- 
cellently true  run.  The  ribs  and  silk 
cover  are  instantly  detachable,  leaving  a 
perfectly  balanced  putter.  The  familiar 
disc  on  to  which  tho  frame  of  an  ordi- 
nary umbrella  fastens  is  of  convex 
aluminium,  and  makes  an  ever-ready 
"  hole."  The  "  Puttumbrella  "  is  unde- 
tectablo  by  partners,  employers,  head- 
clerks,  supervisors  and  all  other  pests, 
and  it  can  be  re-fixed  (according  to 
tests  that  Messrs.  Hopage  have  made 
in  their  own  offices)  between  the  time 
a  tread  is  heard  on  the  stairs  and  the 
opening  of  the  door. 

A  really  timely  novelty  has  been 
invented  by  Madame  Clarkson 
Pomeroyd,  the  famous  beauty  specialist. 
The  "  '  GIOCONDA  '  TOILET  CASKET  "  is 
sure  to  find  a  place  on  the  dressing- 
table  of  every  butterfly  of  fashion.  We 
cannot  divulge  the  secret  of  this  charm- 
ing preparation.  Let  it  suffice  to  re- 
mark that  its  basic  ingredient  consists 
of  a  priceless  and  ancient  Florentine 
cosmetic  which  has  the  miraculous 


i 


THE   TAPESTRY   MODE. 

TJte  Millionaire  (declining  to  purchase  post-impressionist  creation). 

WHY,   MY   MAIDEN   A'ST  CUD  DASBN  A  BETTER    PICTURE'S  THAT." 


DOIN'! 


power  of  giving  to  the  lips  of  the  fair 
user  the  subtle  and  enigmatical  smile 
which  will  be  the  society  rage  of  the 
coming  year. 

No  better  advertisement  of  this  new 
face  cream  could  be  devised  than  the 
letter  of  the  Bishop  of  Dalston  to  the 
press : — "  The '  Gioconda '  Toilet  Casket 
is  the  most  actively  evil  emollient  of 
our  decadent  age." 

The  custom  of  all  classes  is  sought 
by  our  great  modern  emporiums.  With 
this  in  view  Messrs.  Whiterods  are 
advertising  "THE  SYMPATHETICON,"  an 
ideal  gift  for  any  ardent  trade  unionist. 
This  little  invention  is  something  more 


than  a  mere  scientific  toy.  It  is  like 
a  watch  in  appearance  and  can  bo 
worn  in  the  pocket  or  fastened  to  a 
belt.  It  is  fitted  inside  with  a  delicate 
mechanism  of  wireless  telegraphy.  If 
an  employer  of  any  sort  discharges  a 
British  workman  for  any  cause  what- 
ever, an  alarum  rings  in  the  nickel 
case  and  continues  jintil  the  owner  lias 
declared  a  sympathetic  strike.  Messrs. 
Whiterods  anticipate  a  sale  of  millions 
of  these  faithful  little  friends  of  the 
organisation  of  Labour.  They  can 
accordingly  offer  them  at  tho  trivial 
price  of  one  shilling  each— or,  with 
extended  affiliation  to  the  Continent,  at 
sixpence  extra. 


552 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEB  31,  1913. 


WINTER    SPORTS. 


How  TO  CHOOSE  A  Swiss 
"  IN  order  to  ostimalo  the  stylo  of  a 
hotel  count  the  bathrooms  and  private 
sitting-rooms  and  roughly  measure  the 
size  of  the  reception  rooms.  The  ratio 
of  these  to  the  si/e  of  the  hotel  will  bo 
in  inverse  ratio  of  life  in  the  hotel  to 
the  simple  life."  That  is  the  advice 
given  in  The  I'uhlic  Schools'  Alpine 
Sports  Cluli  I'cd/-  7-YoV,  by  a  Director 
df  Alpine  Sports,  Ltd.,  and  no  doubt 
he  ought  to  know  ;  but,  although  it  is 
a  good  idea  in  its  way,  it  docs  not  really 
take  us  very  far.  The  thing  is  getting 
more  difficult  every  year.  It  is  not,  I 
would  have  you  understand,  that  there 
is  any  lack  of  da  In  on  which  to  form 
an  opinion.  Quito  the  reverse.  You 
cannot  in  this  matter  begin  to  make 
the  faintest,  most  timid  and  tentative 
enquiry  without  being  instantly  over- 
whelmed, glutted,  smothered  in  informa- 
tion. If  the  people  who  run  these 
things  would  bo  content  to  send  you 
particulars  of  only  two  hotels  —  one 
obviously  good  and  the  other  clearly 
rotten  —  you  might,  without  any  sur- 
render of  your  right  of  unfettered 
choice,  know  what  to  do  ;  but  as  it  is 
I  have  an  economical  friend  in  the 
North  who  no  longer  finds  it  necessary 
to  take  in  a  daily  newspaper  in  winter 
as  there  is  always  a  supply  of  material 
for  lighting  fires  since  the  day,  two  years 
ago,  when  he  sent  an  enquiring  post- 
card about  Swiss  hotels. 

There  are  some  who  choose  by  the 
picture  at  the  top.  That  is  a  mistake. 
You  will  be  disappointed.  The  three 
small  spruce  trees  covered  with  snow 
which  stand  in  a  row  on  the  extreme  left 
will  not  be  there  when  you  arrive.  The 
flag  will  not  be  flying  like  that,  or  if  it 
is  it  means  that  there  is  an  abominable 
wind  which  makes  the  place  quite  unfit 
to  live  in.  The  skating  rink  will  not  be 
covered  with  all  those  graceful  people 
doing  those  beautiful  figures.  There 
will  merely  be  a  few  ordinary  people, 
like  yourself,  scratching  round  in  the 
usual  way.  And  the  old  gentleman  on 
a  toboggan,  who  is  uproariously  flying 
down  the  slope  in  front  of  the  hotel  at 
such  a  breakneck  speed,  with  his  com- 
forter trailing  behind  him,  will  probably 
—when  you  arrive—  he  painfully  prod- 
ling  himself  along  with  a  stick  in  either 
land.  No,  it  is  a  mistake  to  choose  by 
the  picture.  « 

Some  choose  by  the  altihrde,  but 
here  is  apt  to  be  a  touch  of  snobbery 
about  that.  Some  choose  by  the  name 
of  the  proprietor.  1  admit  that  I  like 
one  with  a  hyphen  myself,  such  as 
3aumgrab-Egger  or  Eikli-Metzenheim. 
But  this  is  a  chancy  method  at  best. 
1  really  think  it  is  simplest  after  all, 


although  at  first  sight  it  seems  a  des- 
perate course,  to  choose  by  the  plan  of 
the  rcoms.  Get  some  pins  and  spread 
the  sheet  out  on  the  table.  First  mark 
down  the  lift.  If  there  is  no  lift,  do 
not  accept  a  pbotographic  dark-room 
as  a  substitute,  but  give  it  up  and  try 
another  hotel.  Then  hunt  out  the 
dining-room  and  observe  if  it  happens 
to  have  any  windows  that  open  upon 
the  outer  air.  If  it  is  buried  in  the 
heart  of  the  building,  with  winter- 
gardens  on  three  sides  of  it,  give  it  up 


Lady  (anxioiisly,  to  reckless  painter).  "Do 

BE     CAREFUL,     Ml'     GOOD     MAN  ;     MY     LITTLE 
PONGIE  'S  JUST  UNDER  YOUK  LADDKl:  !  " 


and  start  again.  You  will  now  mark 
down  the  reception-rooms,  count  the 
bathrooms  and  carefully  estimate  the 
number  of  square  metres  in  the  passages. 
(People  always  put  their  empty  lug- 
gage in  the  passages,  and  you  want  to 
know,  of  course,  if  you  are  likely  to  fall 
over  it  iii  the  dark.)  Eoughly  cal- 
culate the  number  of  balconies,  then 
turn  back  to  the  picture  and  count  the 
chimneys. 

Now  we  may  make  a  few  helpful 
calculations.  The  balconies  multiplied 
by  the  bathrooms,  with  the  chimneys 
added,  will  give  ua  a  useful  index 
number  as  to  the  standard  of  luxury 


maintained.  This  may  be  divided  into 
the  bedrooms,  plus  the  length  of  the 
ballroom  in  metres.  Now  throw  in  the 
lift,  and  the  result  will  be  in  inverse 
ratio  to  the  probabilities  of  Tango  Teas. 
If  you  want  to  know  whether  you  may 
look  for  finger-bowls,  discover  first  of 
all  if  any  charge  is  made  for  the  band. 
If  not,  it  is  an  excellent  sign.  It  may 
mean  that  you  are  to  get  your  music 
for  nothing,  and  that  is  good.  It  may 
mean  that  there  is  no  band,  and  that  is 
magnificent.  The  price  of  the  band,  if 
there  is  one,  in  francs,  multiplied  by 
the  radiators  in  the  ballroom  and  taken 
in  the  strictest  proportion  with  the 
size  of  the  winter-garden,  will  give  you 
a  sound  working  idea  concerning  tlio 
prospects  of  fancy-dress  balls. 

To  get  at  the  quality  of  the  food  it 
is  not  a  bad  plan  to  estimate  and  con- 
sider the  number  of  miles  to  the  coast 
(fish);  to  Paris  (eggs — so  they  say); 
to  Berne  (salads  and  fresh  vegetables) ; 
and  to  Ceylon  or  China  (tea).  But  the 
question  of  the  tea  is  not  so  simple  as 
it  seems.  Afternoon  tea  is  not  inclusive, 
you  must  understand,  but  in  order  to 
checkmate  the  exodus  to  the  cafes  it 
is  charged  at  a  fixed  rate  of  so  much 
a  week,  so  you  may  as  well  drink  it, 
anyhow.  . 

We  hope  that  these  few  hints  may 
be  of  service  to  those  who  like  to  go 
into  a  matter  of  this  sort  and  make 
themselves  masters  of  it.  For  our  own 
part,  when  the  time  comes  to  make  up 
our  mind,  we  generally  blindfold  our- 
selves and  pick  our  hotel  from  the 
waste-paper  basket. 

Another  Impending  Apology. 
"Although  he  was  detained  in  St.  George's 
Hospital,  it  is  not  expected  that  hn  recovery 
will  take  many  days." — Daily  Telegraph. 


More  Street  Noises. 
"  As  a  result  of  the  development  of  Barking, 
it  was  agreed  to  write   to  the  Postmaster- 
General,  asking  that  Barking  should  bo  in- 
cluded in  the  London  district  postal  service." 
'1  he.  Standard. 

A  Callous  Comment. 

'•FOOTBALL. 

LONDON'S  LEAGUE  CLUBS  DO  WELL. 
Two  PLAYERS'  LEGS  BROKEN." 

Daily  Mail. 

"The  old  bride  at  Berwick-on-Tweed  con- 
necting Kngland  and  Scotland  by  the  Great 
North-road  is  becoming  dangerous  owing  to 
motor  traffic." — Daily  A'cirs. 

It  sounds  like  a  relic  of  Gretna  Green. 


"  Tn  the  current  number  of  n  golfing  weekly 
J.  H.  Taylor  gives  a  description  of  the  early 
days  at  Westward  Ho  !  Golf  \v;is  played  then 
n  a  state  of  nature." — Pall  Matt  Gasctte. 

No  doubt  it  encouraged  a  free  swing, 
3ut  didn't  tho  Bishop  of  KENSINGTON 
object  ? 


DECEMBER  31,  1913.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CIIAIM  VAHI.  553 


<• 


Christinas  Holiday  Sportsman  (whose  dilapidated  hireling  has  yot  his  foot  over  a  rein).  "  WHAT  's  TO  BE  BOSK?  " 
Runner.  "  WKI.L,  WIF  A  HOIISKHY  'OBS  vou  COULD  LIFT  'IK  LEO,  BUT  \VIF  THIS  'KBE  'oss,  IF  you  LIFTS  'is  i.i:n,   I   i;i:i.n.\i: 
"E 'LL  FALL  ON  'is  'BAD." 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

(By  Mr.  Punch's  Staff  of  Learned  Clerks.) 
THE  mainspring  of  one  of  tho  current  revues  is  an  ador- 
able lady  who  sings  sprightly  syncopated  songs  from  time 
to  time  and,  in  between,  smiles  expansively  and  chatters 
volubly  at  the  audience,  leaving  tho  stoniest  critic  with 
not  a  word  to  say  against  her,  except,  possibly  that,  if  any- 
body else  did  what  she  did,  it  would  be  thoroughly  bad  art. 
It  has  now  been  my  luck  to  meet  in  a  novel  this  same 
intimate  cheeriness,  which  assumes  or  creates  a  correspond- 
ing vivacity  in  the  person  addressed,  and  is,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  a  gift  peculiar  to  the  American  artiste.  In  Van  Cle.ce 
(MACMILLAN)  Mrs.  MAUY  S.  WATTS  operates  on  material  of 
a  different  and,  happily,  very  much  better  class  than  the 
plot  of  a  music-hall  production ;  she  tells  the  tale  of  a  young 
man's  life  in  the  States,  who  encounters  every  kind  of 
domestic,  military  and  commercial  complications  and  is 
involved  in  love  affairs  of  all  sorts.  There  appear  in  the 
tale  also  a  boastful  major  who  has  never  seen  action  in  his 
life,  a  weak-kneed  youth  addicted  to  strong  drink  but  other- 
wise excellent  company,  a  semi-demi-tnondaine  with  an  eye 
to  the  main  chance,  and  a  bevy  of  the  most  unreasonable  and 
amusing  female  relatives  I  have  ever  met.  The  sinking  of 
tho  .Maine  looms  large  and  real,  and  about  the  whole  situa- 
tion, at  home  and  abroad,  Mrs.  WATTS  rattles  on  with  a  lively 
exuberance  of  phrase  and  a  breadth  of  mind  that  are  rarely 
found  together.  With  the  manner  of  spelling  in  which  she, 
witli  the  cussedness  of  her  race,  persists,  I  shall  always 
quarrel;  but  witli  her  humour  I  am  content.  If  it  is  typi- 
cally American  in  form,  it  is  essentially  English  in  spirit. 


If,  before  reading  Mr.  ERNEST  THOMPSON  SKTON'H  Wild 
Animals  at  Home  (HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON),!  had  been  com- 
pelled to  face  that  fearsome  inquisition,  a  General  Knowledge 
Paper,  and  had  been  asked  to  write  chattily  about  tho  chip- 
munk, the  coyote,  and  the  sneak-cat,  I  should  hare  sat 
inactive  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful.  Now,  however,  I  am  not 
only  prepared  to  tell  you  a  great  deal  about  these  animals,  but 
also  to  encourage  you  to  believe  that  it  would  be  my  fault 
if  you  were  bored  in  the  telling.  Without  being  in  the 
least  didactic  Mr.  SETON  is  teaching  all  the  time,  and  I 
never  put  down  a  book  of  his  without  realising  his 
marvellous  store  of  knowledge  and  his  admirable  manner 
of  imparting  it.  Occasionally  he  is  more  than  a  little 
startling,  and  I  was  afraid  that  he  was  meaning  to  1)0 
humorous  when  I  read,  "  I  have  a  profound  admiration  for 
the  skunk.  Indeed,  I  once  maintained  that  this  animal 
was  the  proper  emblem  of  America."  But  before  I  bad 
finished  the  chapter  I  was  equipped  to  defend  the  skunk 
against  all  comers.  Respectfully  I  raise  my  hat  to  this 
brilliant  adcocatus  diaboli.  The  sketches  and  photographs 
with  which  the  book  is  illustrated  cannot  be  beaten  in 
quality,  but  they  are  apt,  by  force  of  numbers,  to  interfere 
with  a  pure  enjoyment  of  the  text.  For  Mr.  SETON'S  pen 
is  even  mightier  than  his  camera. 

When  you  secure  your  copy  of  Mr.  GEORGK  A.  BIKMING- 
HAM'B  collection  of  sketches  of  Irish  life,  entitled  Irishmen 
All  (FouLis),  please  do  not  begin  reading  at  page  1,  for 
the  opening  sketch  may  lead  you  to  suppose  that  Mr. 
BIRMINGHAM  is  in  a  less  rollicking  mood  than  is  customary 
with  him.  Go  to  page  137  and  start  on  "The  Publican." 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEB  31,  1913. 


Jfc  is  quite  the  funniest  thing  its  author  lias  ever  written. 
I  can  imagine  Mr.  \V.  \V.  ,I.\cors  reading;  it  and  wishing 


that  he  had  thought  of  the  idea  for  one  of  his  Hob  Pretty 
stories.  But  then  tho  atmosphere  is  so  peculiarly  Irish 
that  it  may  lie  that  only  Mr.  BIRMINGHAM  could  have 
handled  it  satisfactorily.  1  have  met  people  who  do  not 
enjoy  this  author's  humour,  hut  I  think  that  even  they 


KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN  makes  a  charming  little  chronicle 
of  simple  loves  and  joys  and  sorrows  out  of  The  Story  of 
Waitslill  Baxter  (HODDEU  AND  STOUGHTON)  and  her  half- 
sister,  Patience,  in  their  obscure  New  Hampshire  village. 
For  tho  sake  of  her  little  sister,  Wai  1st  ill  puts  off  her  devoted 
lover,  Ivory  Boynton,  until  Patience  makes  her  own  secret, 
happy,  romantic  match,  and  then,  in  defence  of  her,  explains 

would  bo  thawed  by  this  story  of  Mr.  Peter  Fogarly,  thej  to  her  father,  Deacon  Baxter,  a  miracle  of  sordid  meanness 
inn-keeper,  and  his"  manoeuvres  to  counteract  tho  baleful  [  and  petty  tyranny,  her  long  withheld  opinion  of  him,  with 
influence  of  tho  temperance  reformers  in  his  village.  But  j  a  candour  which  even  so  good  a  girl  must  have  found 


of  all  the  sketches  in  the  book  perhaps  tho  one  calculated 
In  give  tho  gieatest  pleasure  to  the  Saxon  reader  is  "The 
Kxilo  from  Erin,"  as  satisfying  a  satire  on  a  particularly 
irritating  pose  as^  have  ever  read.  Desmond  O'Donoghuc 
and  his  Chelsea  circle  are  a  delight — from  tho  two  earnest 
young  men,  both  atheists,  who  learned  to  dance  Irish  jigs 
bivau.-e,  being  possessed  by  the  idea  that  Irish  priests  were 
opposed  to  dancing,  they  "hoped  to  do  something  towards 
breaking  the  power  of  the  Church  by  becoming  expert  jig- 
dancers,"  to  tho  young  lady  who  danced  jigs,  "hoping  in 
that  way  to  get  in  touch  with  tho  fairies."  A-  '~~  "'" 
O'Donoghite  himself, 
"there  is,"says  the  author, 
"  so  far  as  I  can  find  out, 
only  one  thing  which  be 
will  not  do  for  Ireland ; ! 
and  that  is,  live  there.! 
But  we  must  not  blame  j 
him  for  that.  Unlimited  j 
patriotism  is  too  much  to 
expect  from  any  man." 


As  for  Mr. 


I  hesitate  to  recall  how 
long  it  is  since  first  Mrs. 
HODGSON  BURNETT  en- 
listed my  sympathies ;  but 
hero  she  is  doing  it  again 
as  freshly  and  skilfully  as 
ever  in  her  latest  story, 
to  which  she  has  given 
the  perplexing  title  of 
T.  Tembarom  (H  o  D  D  K  R 
AND  STOUGHTON).  Perhaps,  indeed, 


Old  Lady.   "  P'RAPS  YOU  WOULDN'T  MIND  JUST  NUDGIS'   ME  WHEN  WE 

CiETS  TO  THE  NEXT   STATION — I'M   A-COIN'   TO   'AVE  A   WINK  O*    BLEEP." 


extraordinarily  pleasant  when  once  she  got  going.  I  wonder 
if  I  am  right  in  detecting  some  carelessness  in  Mrs.  WIOGIN'S 
later  methods.  Does  she  not  tend  just  to  deal  out  the 
sections  of  her  story  to  her  characters  and  make  them  pass 
them  on  to  the  reader  without  troubling  about  subtleties  of 
characterisation  ?  Of  course  this  does  not  apply  to  her 
grotesques— she  draws  her  curmudgeon  of  a  deacon  with 
gusto;  but  doesn't  she  give  her  nice  ordinary  people  rather 
long  and  unlikely  narrative  speeches  ?  I  know  it  is  a  jolly 
simple  method  which  I  should  undoubteelly  adopt  myself, 
but  that  would  bo  for  lack  of  the  skill  and  experience  of 

the  author  of  Rebecca  of 
Sunnybrook  Farm.  How- 
ever, here  is  a  pretty  story, 
prettily  told,  and  it  baa 
the  rare  and  surely  not 
always  unwelcome  quality 
of  rather  accepting  and 
making  the  uest  of  a  tradi- 
tional morality  than  of 
at tocr.pt ing  a  brand-new 
one  trimmed  to  the  very, 
very  latest  requirements. 


On  tho  crushed  straw- 
bar:  y  paper- wrapper  round 
the  cover  of  One  of  the 
Crowd  Messrs.  CHAPMAN 
AND  HALL  assert  that  the 
pages  of  MME.  ALBANESI'S 
new  novel  "scintillate  with 
the  glitter  of  tho  foot- 


I  should  be  justified  ;  lights,  which  do  not,  however,  outshine  the  deeper  flame  of 
in  calling  this  the  latest  version  of  a  before-told  story,  as  love."     On  the  fly-leaf  MME.  ALBANESI  herself  has  written, 


you  will  understand  when  I  explain  that  T.  Tembarom 
is  the  nickname  given  to  an  American  youth  of  obscure 
and  apparently  humble  birth,  who  from  the  position  of 
ill-paid  reporter  on  a  New  York  paper  is  suddenly  trans- 
lated to  be  the  owner  of  Temple  Barholm  in  Lancashire  and 
seventy  thousand  a  year.  But  if  T.  Tembarom  is  somewhat 
obviously  a  relation  of  the  famous  Fauntlcroy  he  is  certainly 
none  tho  worse  for  that.  Better  indeed,  for  what  Mrs. 
HODGSON  BURNETT  does  not  know  about  the  picturesque 
details  of  coming  into  unexpected  affluence  isn't  worth 
knowing.  There  are  scenes  in  Tembarom's  initiation  worthy 
to  rank  with  that  immortal  moment  (how  beloved  of  my 
youth  ! )  when  his  little  velvet-suited  lordship  is  shown 
the  room  full  of  toys.  There  is  also  much  else  that  makes 
for  a  pleasant  entertainment :  a  mystery,  some  slight 
roguery,  and  at  least  one  character,  the  Duke  of  Stone,  quite 
excellently  portrayed.  Tho.  mystery,  perhaps,  is  no  great 
matter;  just  transparent  enough  to  keep  us  mildly  im- 
patient for  its  revelation,  and  in  a  state  of  flattered 
superiority  to  thecharacters  in  thetale,  who  could  not  perceive 
that  Slrangeways,  the  man  without  memory  whom  Tembarom 
had  picked  up  in  the  streets,  was  really  the  missing — well, 
you  know.  A  happy  and  picturesque  novel,  untroubled  by 
realism,  that  I  have  much  enjoyed,  both  for  its  own  sake 
and  for  what  it  pleasantly  recalls. 


"  Is  there  anything  whereof  it  may  be  said,  See,  this  is  new  ? 
it  hath  been  already  of  old  time,  which  was  before  us ;  "  but 
it  is  only  fair  to  adel  that  she  acknowledges  the  sentiment  to 
be  a  citation  from  Ecclesiastes  i.  10.  Personally,  if  I  may  be 
allowed  to  get  in  a  word  edgeways,  1  found  th'at  where  the 
authoress  was  dealing  with  tho  life  of  mean  lodging-houses 
and  the  language  and  behaviour  of  musical-comedy  favour- 
ites, both  "on"  and  "off,"  her  book  was  exceedingly 
bright  and  entertaining ;  but  when  she  strayed  outside  this 
field  to  thrill  us  with  genuine  romance  tho  construction 
of  her  story  and  its  characters  wore  of  a  very  common- 
place and  conventional  kind.  Sqp/iic  Beamish,  tho  derelict 
daughter  of  a  great  actor,  being  forced  to  adopt  "  the  "  pro- 
fession in  order  to  earn  money,  became  the  friend  of  Miss 
Boodie  Gaye,  a  transatlantic  star  whose  orbit  was  apparently 
at  the  eastern  end  of  the  Strand  ;  and  for  Miss  Boodie  Gaye 
I  have  nothing  but  the  sincerest  admiration.  Not  since  "  The 
Chorus  Lady  "  left  London  have  I  heard  such  a  h'ne  flow  of 
American  theatrical  back-talk  as  gushed  from  this  siren's 
lips,  and  I  guess  that  Sir  Robert  Devrington,  the  "  mother's 
joy-boy  "  who  for  so  long  "  did  tho  dog  Tray  act  "  after  her, 
but  eventually  married  Sophie,  will  sometimes  weary  for 
his  old  flame.  Further,  I  am  practically  certain  that  the 
author  of  Ecclesiastes  would  have  been  startled  some  if  he 
had  been  introduced  to  Miss  Boodie  Gaye. 


MUNITIONS    OF    PEACE. 

An  Episode  at  thr.  Belfast  Customs. 

Now  it  began  to  bo  recognised  that  there  was  a  general  prejudice  in  the  country   against  Civil  War. 
true  that  nobody— not  even  the  Earl  of  HALSBUBY— could  remember  from  experience  what  oven  a  sort  of  Civil  Wat 
at  homo  was  like;  but  history  showed  that  fratricidal  strife  liad  never  suited  the  national  genius  or  been  really  popul 
in  these  islands.     Consequently  the  practice  had  fallen  into  desuetude  during  the  last  few  centuries. 

There  were  reasons,  too,  why  a  Civil  War  would  be  peculiarly  inconvenient  in  the  conditions  of 
Although  Sir  EDWARD  CAUSON  had  been  at  pains  to  say  that  the  Army  was  bound,  by  all  the  laws  of  loyalty,  to  sli 
at  him  if  it  was  told  to,  it  was  felt  that  the  spectacle  of  British  troops  lighting  under  Mr.  REDMOND  s  two 
the  Irish  and  the  American— against  the  bearers  of  the  Union  Jack,  would  have  in  it  the  essential  ekincnl 
Music-Hall  Rtvue,  which  is  to  say  that,  while  those  who  took  part  in  it  might  tin.] 
shock  the  intelligence  of  the  spectator. 

Then,  again,  a  Civil  War  would  be  a  bad  example  to  Mexico;  and,  once  more,  at  a  moment  when  ou 
Forces  were  a  bit  below  themselves  in  point  of  numbers,  it  was  not  fair  to  Germany  to  throw  fresh  fc 

Finally,  a  Civil  War  would  distract  people's  attention  from  the  prior  claims  of  the  Land  Campaign. 

Under  these  circumstances  there  was  a  feeling  that  the  leaders  on  both  sides  ought  to  meet  and  talk  things 
together.     And,  indeed,  they  even  went  so  far  as  to  talk  separately  about  talking  things  over  together.     Ant 
did  on  party  platforms,  when  the  other  side  is  never  present.     And  each  side  protested  that  all  this  shouting  at 
another  on  party  platforms  was  rotten,  and  kept  on  doing  it. 

And  as  a  basis  for  conversations  (in  case  they  ever  took  place),  the  one  side  said  that,  if  they  could  only  h 
their  own  way  about  all  points  that  really  counted,  they  were  fully  prepared  to  make  uonccuioiis  about  anytl, 
didn't  matter  at  all.     And  the  other  side  said  just  the  same.  . 

And  the  trouble  was  that  the  one  side,  having  committed  themselves  very  deeply,  wanted  to  save  then 
that  the  other  side,  not  having  any  faces  to  save,  wanted  the  People  to  be  consulted.     «  1-or,    said  they,  " 
arc  gainst  this  great  wrong  being  done  to  Ulster,  they  will  put  us  into  power  and  the  great  wrong  won  t  bo  doi 
if  they  are  in  favour  of  it,  then  we  wash  our  hands  of  the  Civil  War." 

But  it  was  never  made  quite  clear  why  Ulster  should  bo  any  bettor  pleased  at  having  this  great  wiong  ( 
just  because  the  People  thought  it  would  bo  good  for  her. 


556 


PUNCH,    Oil    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  31,  1913. 


Meanwhile,  since  it  seemed  probable  that,  unless  somebody  began  to  do  something,  Civil  War  would  bo  we!l 
miviinced  before  the  conversations  had  started,  it  was  thought  that,  if  wo  were  to  have  fighting  at  all,  it  would  be  best 
for  only  one  side  to  be  armed.  So  a  Proclamation  was  issued  in  the  KING'S  name  that  no  unofficial  weapons  or 
other  deadly  wherewithals  should  bo  admitted  into  Ireland. 

Now  the  Customs  House  Officers,  faarful  of  imposition,  wore  instant  to  investigate  all  baggage,  whatever  pro- 
fession was  made  as  to  its  contents.  And  in  this  way  a  gteat  amount  of  material  designed  for  tho  destruction  of  snipe 
and  woodcock  was  detained  under  suspicion.  But  also  much  clever  work  was  done,  and  many  disguises  penetrated. 
Thus,  a  gun-case  labelled  "  Monna  Lisa"  was  not  allowed  to  enter  the  country.  And  a  very  large  trunk,  though  it 
bore  the  deceptive  superscription,  "Canary  Seed,"  was  also  debarred  from  admission,  on  the  ground  that  a  bayonet 
was  observed  to  be  protruding  through  a  fissure  in  its  side. 

Now  the  Bight  Honourable  AUGUSTINE  BIHRKLL,  being  tho  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland  and  therefore  responsible 
for  its  integrity,  presided  over  these  detective  operations.  And  in  tho  execution  of  his  duty  he  came  upon  a  box  that 
bore  a  strong  similitude  to  a  cartridge-magazine.  And,  giving  it  an  authoritative  tap,  he  said  to  the  owner,  who  had 
the  air  of  arT  inveterate  sportsman,  "Have  you  anything  to  declare?  Ammunition,  guns,  rifles,  pom-poms,  maxims, 
howitzers,  submarines,  mines  or  pea-shooters?" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  declare,"  replied  the  proprietor  of  the  box,  "  except  that  I  am  a  Sage.  Sagas  should  be 
exempt  from  suspicion." 

"I  am  a  hit  of  a  Sago  myself,"  replied  Mr.  BIURELL,  "yet  I  am  not  exempt  from  public  suspicion.  And,  though 
Philosophers  profess  to  ignore  externals,  they  aie  quick  to  suspect  a  brother  Philosopher  when  appearances  are  against 
him.  Hence  I  ask,  How  comes  it  that,  if  its  contents  are  not  lethal,  your  box  should  so  closaly  resemble  what  I  am 
told  is  known  as  a  cartridge-magazine  ?  " 

"That  is  only  my  humour,"  explained  the  Sage. 

"I  am  a  bit  of  a  humourist  myself,"  replied  Mr.  BIRRELL ;  "yet  1  am  constantly  reminded  that  there  are 
certain  affairs  of  which  a  light  treatment  is  not  permissible.  Only  tho  other  day  I  read  a  leaderette  in  The  Globe 
headed  'Dangerous  Humour,'  in  which  that  guardian  of  tho  public  weal  attacked  Mr.  Punch  for  publishing  a  gay 
article  entitled  '  A  Vision  of  Ireland's  Aimageddon.'  ' 

"It  baffles  my  poor  comprehension,"  replied  the  Sage,  "  that  a  journal  which  in  all  heavy  seriousness  has  done 
its  best  to  encourage  Ulster  to  prepare  for  Civil  War  should  object  to  an  article  which,  if  it  were  likely  to  produce  the 
effect  predicted  of  it,  would  only  ba  assisting  towards  the  same  result.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact,  as  you  well  know,  Sir, 
there  is  no  better  solvent  of  a  strained  situation  than  clean  and  impartial  ridicule.  1  take  no  shame  that  the  article  in 
question  should  have  appeared  in  one  of  my  own  pages." 

"  My  dear  old  friend !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  BIRUELL.  "  Your  hump  had  escaped  me,  for  my  attention  was  confined 
to  your  front  view.  But  I  ought  to  have  recognised  you  by  your  genial  countenance.  Permit  me  to  pass  your  baggage 
unopened." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  Mr.  Punch,  "  I  insist  on  revealing  tho  matter  within;  for  in  my  humble  and  unbiassed 
opinion  it  constitutes  the  most  desirable  of  imports.  Its  nature,  I  admit,  is  explosive,  but  it  only  operates  when  brought 
into  contact  witli  kindred  natures  made  for  mirth.  Without  its  presence  in  the  home,  no  form  of  Home  Rule,  even  by 
consent,  is  conceivable;  on  tho  other  hand,  Ulster  will  adore  it,  and  Ulster  will  be  right." 

And  on  this  note  of  optimism  Mr.  Punch  unlocked  his  magazine  and  exposed  to  view  his 

©lie  Pwtkttr  itntr  Jfartg-Jfiftlj  iolmw. 


DSOEMBEB  31,  1918.]  PUNCH,    OR   TIIK   LONDON    ClIAIMVAItl. 


557 


Cartoons, 


PAKTEIDOF,,  BKr.x.\i:i«. 

^Esculapius  in  I  .on.  inn 151 

"As  Mini  t  >  Man" 489 

As  They  Take  It SS» 

Broken  Lullaby  (A)  91 

Collector  (  rhc)    131 

Kvor-opou  lloor  (The)  440 

Fore-armed  509 

'•  II  Giocondo"    0-9 

IrmproMlbte  (The) S8i> 

Kismet  Ill 

looker-on  (The) 51 

M»n  of  the  Moment  (The)  319 

Nation  of  l-'jre-oatei-s  (A) 4('9 

"National  Disaster"  of  191'.!  (The)  2(19  i 
Painting  the.  Lily  811 


AOXF.W,  GEOKGETTE 

Season  (The)  ......................     C7 

Al.l.KN,  F.  L. 

Creative  Gift  (The)  ................     42 

AXXESI.EY,  FltAXCIs 

M  iseamage  of  Humour  (A)  ........  120 

ATKEY,  BXRTBAM 

Golf  for  Heroes  ..................  224 

Man  without  Ideas  (A)  ............     75 

BIKD,  A.  W. 

1'eaco  ............................  205 

"  Strong,  Silent  Man  "  (The)  ......  47-1 

Br.EX,  .1.  TWEI.I.S 

Ne-v  Year  Novelties  ..............  551 

BROWN,  C.  I1ILT.OX 

On  a  Small  Nut  .................. 

Speysido    ........................ 

BUISNET  W.  HODC.SOX 

Cabinet  Golf    .................... 

M.  IV  s  Oardt  n  of  Verse  s  (Tin-)    ---- 

CIIAI.MKI-.S,  1'.  K. 

Budger  (The)    .................... 

Brandy  .......................... 

Culs   ............................ 

Dream  Pinni  r  (A)  .............. 

In  October   ...................... 

Maninio  hs    ...................... 

On  Simon's  Stack  ................ 

Ship's  Kitten  (The)    .............. 

Swallows   ....................... 

Villa:,-,!  l'oet(A)  .................. 

COCllRAXK,  ALFRED 

Deserter  (Tim)  .................... 

COLLINS,  O.  H. 

"  And  then  them  was  Xmie    ..... 

Cosmetics  :  A  Question  of  Tast  <•    .  . 
Thoughts  on  a  Glittering  liauble  .  . 
OltESWELL,   hUI.KBI.EV 
Pwado-neo-GrM  .................. 

So,la-\\ater  Siphon  (The)  .......... 

DARK,  KIOMAUD 

Critic  in  tun  Cradle  (The)    ........ 

Ki'Ki-'.iiM.F.Y,  AHTHCU 


PARTRIIIGE,  BERNARD. 

Postal  Disorder  (A)  289 

Question  of  Detail  (A) 171 

Uioter's  Ideal  (The)   '-"-".' 

Second  Thoughts    30 

Sorrows  of  Uuorta  (The) 409 

Third  Stage  (The)    549 

Union  of  Hearts  (A) 321) 

Way  They  Have  in  the  Balkans  (A)    71 

Woodrow  on  Toast ml 

"  Yorkshire  KelisU  " 429 

KAVEN-HlI.L,  L. 

Another  Peace  Conference 801 

Baulked!  <« 

Broncho-buster  (The)   42t 


RAVEN-HIU,  L. 

Dangerous  Game  (A) 24R 

Dawn  of  liannony  (The) 2(1!' 

"  Entente  Tube  "  (The)    143 

Goliien  Silence  (Tim) 1«! 

Home  Rule,  Maze  (The) 401 

Ideal  llome(Iinle)  Exhibition  (The)  821 
"  In  theMultitude  01  Counsellors       :isi 

Kleptorou  mania 123 

I,and  Campaigner  (The)    801 

Landlord's  Nemesis  (The)      281 

Ijuisdowne  enters  the  Lists   8 

Liberal  Pleasure-Party  at  Sea  (The) 

20-21 

Ministry  ofSport(A)    18» 

New  Biuiwwk-k'T (Tin-)  541 


|RAVEN-Hiu.,  L. 

.  New  Ulysses  (The) 441 

One  of  the  KnuU   IDS 

Pleasure  Deferred  (A)   83 

Sold  Out    S51 

"8.O.S." Ml 

Their  Annual  Treat   *" 

"When!" 4«1 

ToWNsKN'I),  K.  II. 

"  DeuUchland  Ucber  Allc»  " 211 

"  Land  Cam|ja«n  "  (  Hie) 601 

O*it  of  Commission    2'J 

SariiiK  Her  Face 4*1 

Tri but*  of  Envy  (The) 481 

Wunderklnd  (The) Ml 


Articles. 


r'8 


o  i  •> 

M 

319 
431 
Kt 

85 
148 

114 
208 

KH 

-'  I:. 

531 
115 

286 

1 
300 

177 

I  ill 


Christmas  Super  itil  ions  .......... 

High'  r  I"  raining  for  Business  ..... 


ECKXBSLXT,  ABTHUR 

Ni  w  Way  of  Advertising  Flnys 831 

Purple  Dragon  (The) 23 

Sparing  our  Feelings S34 

KI.IAS,  FRANK 

Holes  and  "  Beastly  Holt*  " 245 

Wanted,  Interest,  not  Capital   142 

Waier-bubytThe)  108 

EMANUEI,,  WALTER 

Charivaria weekly 

Images  from  the  Uiary  of  a  Kly  15C,  16rt, 
188 

FAY,  STANLEY  J. 

David-and-Jonathan  Biigade  (The)    4' 
From  a  llnilway  Carriage  Window    1 1 

Glad  Good-bye  (The) 118 

Girat  Iteformer  (A)    2" 

It^ms  from  Everywhere  fl 

New  Interviewing  (The)  1U 

Pre-natal  Influence 334 

School  for  Mickllngs  (The) 158 

Slinging  it  about    2S3 

Vile  Corpus  (The)  344 

FlHir,  \\  .  W.    Bl.AIK 

Ag'  nt  Triumphant    435 

Night  and  Morning  Thoughts    32 

Ode  on  a  Week-end  Cottage    '-".'O 

"  Kogue  in  Giain"  (A) '-T4 

FlIKXCIl,  C.  O. 

Ti y  our  Mixture « 

KKY,  G.  II. 

Trumpet  (The) :  A  Cure  for  Eorcs  540 
G.UIVKY,  ISA 

Blanche's  Letters  W>,  W  I,  4'Ii'. 

l-adie  and  the  Lavender  Man IS'.' 

GlTTlNS,  II.  N. 

Brilliant  Phantasy  (A) ""-4 

By  the  Left W»l 

Lucky  Escape  (A) 203 

Cit.MiAM,  Captain  HAHUY 

BulK'irium  (The) ':" 

"S.P.H.G."(The)  424 

Sportsman  (The) 4S4 

GllAVES,  0.   L. 
Dongo  (The) 413 


GRAVES,  C.  I.. 

Garkin  and  Lan  in 

Plaint  of  Perey  Illingwoith,  Ks-i- 

M.l'.(The)    

He-sessional 

Hhymeof  the  Evasive  Keviewer   . 

To  Engelbert  Humperdinck  

GRAVES,  C.  L.,  AND  LfCAs  K.  V. 

Another  Injustice 

Authors  discuss  China 

<  Vns'!i  ial  symliosimn  (A)    

Chance,  t  lie  Fri.  nd    

Creed  of  Success  (The) 

Cure  (The)    

Fallen  Star  (A)   

Forecast  of  the  British  ASH.  (A)   . . 
Gentleman  of  the  House-top  (A)  .. 

|;  Gentlemen,  the  Drama  !  "    

Goozley  &  Co.'s  New  Songs     

Great  Literary  Sensation    

Holiday  Mints 

How  Genius  Works   

Infinitude  of  Commonplace  (The). . 

In  Self-defence    

King  wilh  a  Sense  of  Humour  (The) 

Literary  Gossip  

"Love  Letters  ol  a  Dm  -hess"  (The) 

Lyra  Ilyjiochondriaca 

Ministerial  Mistlts 

Mr.  C  rrutheis    

Musical  Notes 

Musical-Olympic  Appeal  (A) 

Musical  Oni.-ns    

Organist  «i  Hospitality 

Our  Ueview  of  Heviews    


(Hit burst  (An) 

Pal  riurelial  Drama  (The) 

Pepper  Puts  (The) 

PiTtrct  Cricket*  r  (Th-) 

Poets  at  Bay 

Proper  Pride 

Prude's  Progress  (The) 

liural  Hevelry 

Studies  of  Ileviewers     45:1,  47.1 

Treasure  Seekers  (The) 

Trials  of  Greatness  (The) 

Well  Done !  

Winged  Victory  (The)    


M 
97 

m 

H  • 
117 
1*4 

II  • 

aa 
M 
IM 

M 
MM 

M 

17r. 
MM 

m 

71 

tn 
ni 

KM 

:.-.  I 
I  I 
78 
404 
li'.'.' 

:;:.2 

102 
219 

L'L'.i 

40 

'  107 
MM 

4i'«i 
•J'.l 


Gt'THltlE,  F.  Ax.STEV 

Futuristic  Fun    476 

Modernised  "  Punch  andJndy"(A)  400 

HASTIXUS,  11.  MACIKIXAI.H 
Autobiography  of  John  Upjohn    ..  SSC 
Clement  Cliiip-ni*t>l 40! 

HllDCKIXSdN,  T. 

Biting  Critic  (The)  110 

( 'liamlxT  Music  S43 

Little  Revenge  01"')     SDH 

Modern  Fairies    II 

N;.styJar(A) SOS 

Second  Thoughts    *5 

Time-honoured  Tyrant  (A) 45» 

To  a  Fixxl  Heformer 416 

To  Mr.  Hikes    1S4 

What's  ilia  Name?    SSO 

HOI-KINS,  K.  T. 

Free  Exchange  of  View  (A) 49« 

LloltTdN,   HARDI.II 
Yellow  Gnome  (The) 188 

HI»KEX,  J.  F. 

Acxlemie  Discussion  (An) 5U 

Traffic  Problem  (The)    804 

Un  •'  Mt^lecin  Malgrc  Ltd  "     itll 

Ho\VE,  1'.  1'. 

Pifflcnlllt*  of  l«-ing  a  Mother  (The)  2^. 
Keep   igtlie  llii-iitn-s  (!]«•[] H'J 

JENKINS,  KRNEST 

Are  Golfers  Snobbish  ? 803 

Avenger  of  our  Bomlianlier  (An)  ..  ,r*0 
Editorial    Advertisement    Scantlal 

(The)  3<« 

Imperial  Lyons  (The)    88 

Medical  Congress  Notes 154 

New  City  (Th-)    412 

Oar  Tainted  Education    S73 

Should     Kiral     Politicians    Din- 

Togethei  1 S!K! 

Spasm  of  Gratitude  (A)    S-V. 

SuinT-agilat  r  (The) 4<7 

V ..riety  Artist  (A) 168 

JOIINM'OX,   Al.EC 

"Mom. a  Lisa"  and  the  Man  who 

Knew 623 

Penny  Wise 223 


558  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEK  31,  1913. 


Articles — continued. 


KENDALL.  Cui>tain 

Fame  of  Char  l<  itto  (The) 

KatalHiiw(A)     147 

Kanvette    

Lament  for  tlie  liutler 33j 

!.»!•»••  in  Art  (A) 41.0 

1. IIM'S  to  a  Porpoise   1:  < 

Luck   <'•'< 

To  a  Cen'.t  nuiian  C<;ek  tin  > 531 

Kxox,  K.  (',.  V. 

Bird,  ilin  |ioui:h  ami  th"  Haul  ('Hi.') 

.::.-  ul  llemy  Ik.ml  I'lhe) 

Ikiomsday     

Fiction  on  the  Film  Hi 

Cixjd  News  fur  Unpert 4H' 

(iood  Weeds  for  I II     ;.ll  l 

Meal  lIi.ni.-(Tlie)   3ii:l 

Jeux  d'Esprit  at  Drnry  IJUID 70 

I.  Allegro  in  1913     405 

M:cnad  (The)    110 

Marvel  of  It  (Thr) 7 

Nightmare  of  the  Underground  (A)  4'.'3 

Pusher  (The)    64 

K'.iind-shotnf  E:ij;l:ind(The)    ....  488 

Salve  Atque  Vale    

Why  you  Yell 328 

1. '.MILKY,  F.   0. 

Antique  (Tlie) 544 

Ilitf  Day  (The) 472 

Bii(!h.  ar  (The) no 

Common  Round  (The) 314 

1  letf  Herat*'  (The)     L'4S 

Division  (The) 'J4I 

Drudge (Thr)  491 

Ilat-lmiitcr(Tlii')   433 

IIistrion(Tli>0 313 

l-apses  of  Time    'J*7 

I-ast  Lay  (Tlie)    103 

Menu  (The) 65 

Koblesse  Oblige V29 

One  Touch  of  Nature    S54 

Personality  (A)   L'3I 

LAWS,  A.  GOIIUON 

Finest  City  (The)   202 

Gun-running   0 

How  can  they  at  the  Price '!  340 

Should  an  Author  Tell  t  4SO 

LEU  MANN.  R.  C. 
Authors'  Strike  (The)   ..  ..266 

Bath  (Tlie)    87 

Boiiad(The)    511 

Button-hook  (The) 452 

Charivaria    223 

Children's  Gymkhana  (A)    254 

Concerning  Pheasants 434 

Dickens 8tf  1 

Dog's  Welcome  (The) 215 


Li H MANS    R.  0. 

Friendly  Waitress  (The)  .  17fl 

Garden  Party  (The)  118 


l,  lacier  (The)    .....  ..............     I'.n' 

Hiccup  (The) 


ll.iliday  Plans 

llo\v  to  a  j  ipease  I  Ister 

How  we  Lost  a  Little  Dog 

Lake  (The) 

I  --ist  smukc  (The) 

Mr.  Punch's  Own  Indian  Poet 

.Mrs.  Baxter 

l  itympie  Catechism  (An) 

Piinsies 

I'.-it  ient  (The) 

l'a\i'd  Court  (1  lie) 

T,.an  Old  Friend 

Two  Poets 

LITAS,  K.  V. 

Once  upon  a  Tim.)     8,  42,  115.  16.1,  212, 

255,  271,  .127 

Rhyming  Slang  ..................  44  1 

LrrY,  Sir  HK.MIY 
Kssence  of  Parliament  ..   33,  53,  73,  93, 
113,  133,  153,  173 
"Lobby"  ........................  351 

uLifAM,  HAHHEKTON 

Appn  eiafiou  (An)  ...............   273 

Put  to  the  Proof  ..................     50 

M.u'Kicu.AK,  Miss 
Bazar  ............................    05 

MARTIN,  N.  K. 

Another  Ijuid  Grievance  ..........  412 

Concerning  William  Smith  ........  25-2 

Debute  on  Spurts'  Office  Vote    ____  185 

Further  Dealings  of  llr.  Mallaby- 
Deeley   ........................  542 

ImuUiaiy  Conversations  ..........  443  i 

My  Beauty  Spot  ..................    137  I 

New  Militancy  (The)  ..............     (13 

Rustic  Innke'-per  (The)    ..........  200 

Vision  of  Ireland's  Armageddon  (A)  500 

UIALL,  DEKWKNT 
Light  Offence  (A)  ................  135 

MILNE,  A.  A. 
Among  the  Animals  ..............  128 

Assured  Revolution  ..............  204 

At  the  Ploy  ..........  t'2ti.  2i7,  41li,  450 

Birthday  Present  (The)    ...    .  OS 

Breath  of  Life  (A)  ...........    ....  426 

Di  (tuitions   ......................  325 

Disappointment  .................  52l5 

Few  Tricks  for  Christmas  (A)    ____  506 

Financier  (The)  ..................  400 

In  l  he  Swim  ......................  4sG 

King's  Sons  (Tlie)  ................  546 


MlI.NK,  A.  A. 

Ix)rds  Temporal 

Lot  170 48 

Missing  Curd  (The)    148 

"Mr.  Wu" 

Mr.  Punch's  Seasiiie  Novelette  ....     2? 

ilr.  Punch's  Seaside  Pago    108 

Onler  of  the  Bath  (The)  200 

Point  of  View  (The)    88 

Raleigh  Touch  (The) 246 

Spii'Miing  Walnut  Tree  (The) 182 

Stumbling  Block  (The) -Js, 

Tragedy  of  the  Sea  (A) 1  C.7 

Trunk  Call  (A)    300 

Uncle  Kilwanl 36(! 

Under  Kntirely  New  Management  346 

"  Witch  "  (Tlie)  a;. 4 

Moor.K,  CLIFTON 

My  Day's  Pleasure 283 

Ml.'I.CKEW,  FlSANK 

Photography  that  Tells  (The) 213 

MURRAY,  KiT/ii'iv 

Apathy  of  England  (The) 515 

PHILLIPS,  C.  K. 

Debt  of  Honour  (A)  178 

POPE,  JESSIE 

Household  lioon  (A) 510 

Mermaid's  Toilet  (The) lyo 

Pick  of  the  I  .itter 2M) 

Trier  (A)    410 

itioBY,  REGINALD 
Sr  i  eh  for  Olympic  Tah'nt  (The)  ..  145 
Sorccn  ss  (The)    310 

RISK,  R.  K. 

Compromise  Fine  ('Hie)    .      2 

Test  Case  (A)  271 

JlTTBSBEltO,  MAX 
Life  H  story  of  a  Nobody  (The) 236 

SEAMAN,  OWEN*. 

At  the  Play     SS,  116,  104,  276,  200,  330, 
356,  376,  430,  450,  610,  534 

Better  than  a  Play 42 

Eel. tor  to  bis  Locum  (An)   210 

"  Full-steam  "  Opt  mist  (The)   44S  ' 

Game  and  Golf    360  I 

Heirs  of  Hellas  (The;    !4-> 

Homburg  Cure  (The) 122 

Home  Def-  nee 102 

How  the  I.ibeials  got  there    320 

Kaiwr  Wlllwhn  to  King  Carol  102 

Leaves  from  the  Beerbohm  Tree  of 

Knowledge    02,  82  I 

Liberal  Club  Next  Door  (Tlie)    2j 

Munitions  of  Peace   555  ' 

New  Lord  of  Coveut  Garden  (The)  520 
Peace  Week 200 


SEAMAN,  OWES 

Shocking  Examples  .... 
Sporting  Spirit  (The)    ... 

Thoughts  on  tlie  Near  Future 
To  the  Curse  of  My  Country 

United  Family  (A) 

Woman  Turns  (The) 

SMITH,  KKUTKAM 

Camper's  Luck    

Elucidation  (The)  

Freedom  of  the  Press 

Highland  Solitude  (A) ...\ 

Insurance  in  the  Lower  School 
Our  Country  Diary    . , . 
Our  Daily  Po.itical  Faro'.'! ! 
Scotland's  New  Sport 
Sympathe  ic  fctrike  (A) 
Tribulations  of  a  Tbiixl-rate  Shot ' 

Winter  Sports 

Word  Pictures ,..'! 

i'Eiio,  LEOPOLD 

Samuel  the  Supercilious 

SYMNS-,  ,).  M. 

IJruwn  Babies 

(iiirrunipore  Links  (The) '" 

liosery  (The) 

SYKIS.  A.  A. 
Chameleon  Hens. 


School  for  Fathers  (A) 

THOMSON,  W.  if. 

Dea.lly  Virtue  (Tlie)  ... 

TII.DESLEY,  CECIL 

Practical  Hints  on  Golf 

TOMBS,  J.  S.  Al. 

(iieater  Magic  (T'lc) 

Last  Words  on  the  Clothing  Con- 
troversy     

TOISIN,  Mrs. 
Extracts  from  the  Journal  of  an 

Ostrich 

Perils  of  tlie  Deep 
WATT,  BASIL  H. 

Ma,vsNestEgg(A) 

V  IIITE,  R.  F. 
Age  of  Enterprise  (The) 
Bill-ball 


380 
2SO 
4SO 
340 
400 
400 


3!H! 
428 
49 
i:;6 
375 
536 
114 
286 
.:i07 
5S2 


232 

138 

76 

98 

407 


314 
314 


201 
122 


90 
474 


Out  of  Season '  g^g 

Kout  of  the  Theorist  (The)  . 

Traveller's  Tale  (A)   .... 

Wasted  Talent     .... 

Worst  Policy  (The)    ..,',         '     w 

WHITNALL,  S.  E. 

Our  Annual  Massacre 440 

WoDKHOUSJt,  P.  G. 

Mr.  Punch's  Football  Experts  372 


n,  G.  D.  55,  79,  95,  117,  137,  159,  179 
195,  215,  255,  293,  337,  357,  377,  391,  415 
437,  451,  477,  497,  517,  531,  553 

ARTHUR,  EDWIN  135 

BAUMER,  LEWIS  . .  9,  18,  23,  50,  89,  109   170 
190,  228,  248,  287,  309,  371,  428,  487,  503 

BAYNES,  PHILIP  211,  275,  411,  444,  515 

BELCHER,  GEORGE  ....     13,  46,  77,  150,  355 

BIRD,  W.    .  .6,  41,  61,  101,  126,  160,  166  180 

231,  295,  318,  324,  352,  372,  467,  479,  512^ 

524,  532,  544 

BBOOK,  RICABDO  198,  204,  241,  292,  312,  339, 

398,  424 

BBOWN,  GEORGE  C 439  499 

BUCHANAN,  FRED .'       .' 100 

CAVEXAOH,  WARING    '.      '  '{±3  344 

COKBETT,  E.  P '49.; 

DOWD,  J.  H '.'.'.'.'.'.'.  272,  399 

FRASI:R,  P.  63,  106,  224,  26t,  303,  331,  385, 554 

trRAVE,  CUABLEB 47,  67,  87,  107,  127,  166 

199,  305,  335,  455,  493,  507 

HABRISON,  CHARLES   35,  505,  533 

HABT,  FRANK    4gg 

HASELDEN,  W.  K.  ..  116,  276, '296,' 336,' 350 
_  376,  391,  416,  464 
HEATHCOTE,  C.  N 491 

HENRY,  THOMAS  ..81,  239,  279,  359,  401   537 

HORJJE,  A.  E 27,  39,  225,  273 

JESKIS,  G.  C.   . .    129,  212,  271,  375,  445,  528 

KING,  GUNNING    75  297 

LLOYD,  A.  W 412,  432,'  472',  484,'  534 

LOXGMIBK;  GEORGE    419 

Lu  vr,  WILMOT 417'  435  468 

MCCOBMICK,  H 


Pictures  and  Sketches. 


MACPHEESON,  D 27 

MILLAR,  H.  B 343 

MILLS,  A.  WALLIS     25,  57,  90,  115,  149,  185, 

213,  233,  251,  267,  288,  313,  333,  365,  395, 

408,  453,  475,  495,  511,  527,  539 


MORKOW,  GEORGE  26,  28,  29,  30,  33  34  40 
53,  54,  59,  73,  74,  80,  93,  94,  113,  114  12o' 
133,  134,  140,  153,  154,  173,  174,  181,'  218* 
238,  258,  278,  284,  298,  299,  307,  323  338' 
358,  S78,  397,  418,  438,  458,  474,  498,  618, 

538,  547 

NoRitis,  ARTHUR     10,  141,  227,  291,  317  373 
425,  452,.  459,  485,  504,  519,  545 

PARTRIDGE,  BERNARD j 

PEARS,  CHARLES 24,  99,  231.  253 

PEDDIE,  TOM 155 

PEGRAM,  FRED \  551 

TEXN,  ARTHUR '  252 

HAVEN-HILL,  L.  . .     15,  49,  63,  130,  175'  194 
226,  243,  311,  368,  488,  508,  556 

REYNOLDS,  FRANK    14,  97,  119,  157,  169 

247,  265,  315 
ROUNTREE,  HARRY  . .     187,  235,  353,  405,  433 

RUHKIN,  G.  F 478i  552 

SHEPABB,  E.  H 167,  197,  207,  237,  268, 

347,  367,  387,  427,  457.  535 

SHEPPERSON,  C.  A 16,  110,  189,  208,  2f.:i 

328,  3-13,  407,  4^8,  471 

SIMMONS,  GRAHAM  3(34 

SMITH,  A.  T 7,  24,  66,  147,  161,  219,  223, 

257,  2£9,  285,  3i5,  388,  4C3,  431,  473,  525 

STAMPA,  G.  L.  . .  12,  37,  70,  86,  139,  177,  205 

245,  277,  327,  345,  363,  379,  393,  413,  431, 

465,  5-1S 

THORPE,  J.  H 392,  447 

TOWNSKND,  F.  H.       5,  11,  17,  45,  65,  85,  105, 

125,  145,  165,  193,  203,  283,  304,  819,  332, 

351,  383,  423,  443,  463,  513,  523,  543 

WATTS,  ARTHI  R   334 


Punch 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
CARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY 


WJt, 


- 


i, 


. 

0> 

> 

•: 


». 

v» 


~-«^  »*T*        jw>>> 

^  -A";  "^  ^?S- 

« 


a 


^2^ 


I 

»»    '    --J