(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.)
To those who would learn what soldiering is like in the armies of
democratic France I would heartily commend two books recently published by
Messrs. ALLEN AND UNWIN, _Battles and Bivouacs_, by JACQUES ROUJON, and
_The Diary of a French Private_, by GASTON RIOU. M. ROUJON, infantryman of
the line, was in private life a journalist on _Le Figaro_; M. RIOU, Red
Cross orderly, a liberal lay-theologian and writer of European reputation.
The former's transliterator ("Munitions are distributed around," writes he
undismayed; and has also discovered a territory known as "Oriental
Prussia") obtrudes a little between author and reader. M. RIOU fares
better; but both contrive to give a really vivid impression of the horrors
and anxieties of the early days of the War before the tide turned at the
Marne, of the flying rumours so far from the actual truth, of the fine
spirit of _camaraderie_ in common danger, of the intimate relations between
officers and men, details, terrible or trivial, of campaigning, and,
because our spirited brothers-in-arms are not ashamed to express their
innermost feelings, of the deeper emotions at work under the surface
gaieties. M. RIOU'S narrative is mainly the record of his year's captivity
in a Bavarian fort. On his way he faced the fanatical hatred and cruelty of
the German civilians, of the women especially, with a cynical fortitude.
The commandant of his prison, Baron von STENGEL, was, however, a gentleman
and a brick, and did everything in his power to make the difficult life
bearable. An episode pleasant to recall is the reception of the Russian
prisoners (intended by their captors to cause dissensions) by their French
comrades in misfortune. The whole record gives an impression of fine
courage and resourcefulness.
* * * * *
Very probably you are already acquainted with that restful and admirable
book, _Father Payne_ (SMITH, ELDER), of which a new edition has just now
been published. The point of this new edition is that, in its special
Preface, the genesis and authorship of the book are assigned, for the first
time on this side the Atlantic, to Mr. A.C. BENSON. And the point of the
new preface is that it entirely gives away the original edition (also
printed here), in which the secret was elaborately concealed. My wonder is,
reading the book with this added knowledge, that anyone can have at any
time failed to detect in it the gently persuasive hand of the Master of
Magdalene, Cambridge. You remember, no doubt, how _Father Payne_ (a
courtesy title), having had a small estate left to him, proceeded to turn
it into the home of a secular community for young men desirous of pursuing
the literary gift, and how he financed, encouraged and generally supervised
them. Leisure, an exquisite setting, and the society of enthusiastic and
personally-selected youth--one might call the book perhaps a Tutor's Dream
of the Millennium. Anyhow, _Father Payne_, as shown in this volume, which
is practically a record of his table-talk upon a great variety of themes,
is exactly the gentle, shrewd and idealistic philosopher whom (knowing his
parentage) one would expect. Bensonians (of the A.C. pattern) will
certainly be glad to have what must surely have been their suspicions
confirmed, and to admit _Father Payne_ to the shelves of authenticity.
* * * * *
Miss DOROTHEA CONYERS has long ere this established herself as a specialist
of repute in Irish sporting tales. You will need but one look at the
picture wrapper of _The Financing of Fiona_ (ALLEN) to see that a
repetition of the same agreeable mixture awaits you within. _Fiona_ was a
charming young woman (Irish, of course) with a rich uncle and a poor, very
unattractive cousin, who loved her for her expectations. As _Fiona_ had no
conception about money beyond the spending of it, the uncle made a will,
whose object was that she should have plenty. The suitor, however, knowing
of this, and being a naughty, rather improbable person, destroyed part of
it, with the result that _Fiona_ was apparently left only the ancestral
home and no cash to keep it up. So she was forced to take in gentleman
boarders for the hunting, and (for propriety's sake) to invent a mythical
chaperon, who lived above stairs. And, after all, she needn't have done any
such thing, because the rich uncle, in leaving her all the contents of the
mansion, had foolishly forgotten to mention a secret drawer full of
Canadian securities. As for the villain, I really hardly dare tell you the
impossibly silly way in which he allowed himself to be caught out. But of
course all this melodrama is not what matters. The important thing about
Miss CONYERS' people is that (whatever their private worries) a-hunting
they will go; and _Fiona_, financed by her paying guests, shows in this
respect as capital sport as any of her predecessors. For the rest, I can
hardly say with honesty that the story is equal to its author's best form.
* * * * *
What I like particularly about Mr. FREDERICK NIVEN is the friendly way in
which he contrives to make his readers and himself into a family party. "We
must," he writes at the beginning of a chapter in _Cinderella of Skookum
Greek_ (NASH), "get a move on with the story, in case you become more tired
of Archer's compound fracture than he was himself." This is by no means the
only occasion on which he shows his thoughtfulness for us, and I think it
very kind and nice of him. At the same time I will ungraciously admit that
the weak point of his story is that it does not move quite fast enough.
Admirable artist in psychology and atmosphere, his plot, if you can call it
a plot, is very slight. _Cyrus Archer_, the young American of the compound
fracture (who had my sympathy from the start because he could never
remember dates), goes out into the back of beyond for a spell before
settling down to married life and a place in his father's business, and at
Skookum Creek, where he grows tomatoes and studies Indians, he meets his
_Cinderella_, with the result that his life has to be completely
rearranged. A commonplace tale, but there is a rare and distinct flavour
about the telling of it. Mr. NIVEN'S manner has indeed a very particular
charm, over which one would take an even keener pleasure in lingering if
only he himself lingered a little less over his story.
* * * * *
I hardly think that Madame ALBANESI has chosen quite the most appropriate
name for the story that she calls _Hearts and Sweethearts_ (HUTCHINSON).
Personally, I fancy that _Suits and Lawsuits_ would have come nearer the
mark; because, though there is a certain proportion of love-making in the
tale, there is considerably more about going to law. One difficulty with
which I fancy the writer had to contend is due to the fact that her hero
and heroine are (in a sense) the opposing protagonists in a case of
disputed succession; _Jemima Frant_ being engaged in the attempt to turn
out _Sir John Norminster_ from his estates and establish the claim to them
of her dead sister's child. Naturally, therefore, till this is settled
their opportunities for the tender passion are, to put it very gently,
restricted. But of course--well, a novel with such a title is hardly likely
to leave anybody of importance unmarried at the final page. Before this is
turned, you have some pleasant comedy of London in war-time, and meet a
number of agreeably sketched persons, whose conversation may amuse you, or,
on the other hand, may cause you to wish them a little less discursive.
Madame ALBANESI indeed impressed me as having occasionally turned her
subordinate characters loose into a chapter, with instructions to fill it
up anyhow, while she herself thought out the next move. But the law was
always leisurely, so this characteristic might perhaps be expected in a
story so much concerned with it.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Mother_ (_overhauling little Tommy's wardrobe_). "OH,
CHARLES, JUST SEE WHAT THAT DREADFUL CHILD HAS BEEN CARRYING ABOUT IN HIS
POCKET! A REAL CARTRIDGE WITH A BULLET IN IT. HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN BLOWN TO
BITS!"
_The Father_ (_with a glowing consciousness of assisting his country at a
critical time_). "JUST PUT IT IN A COOL PLACE FOR TO-NIGHT, MY DEAR, AND I
WILL LEAVE IT AT THE WAR OFFICE TO-MORROW ON MY WAY TO BUSINESS."]
* * * * *
Handel in War-Time.
"The anthem 'O Thou that tillest' (Messiah), will be
rendered."--_Dublin Evening Mail_.
No pains are being spared to promote agriculture in Ireland.
* * * * *
"The river in many places has overflown its banks."--
_Henley Newspaper_.
Even Father Thames cannot resist the modern mania for aviation.
* * * * *
Extract from a review of Dr. JOHN FITZPATRICK'S "_This Realm, This
England_":--
"From a Scotsman, we deprecate the definition of 'This Realm' as
'England,' and would suggest to the learned doctor that he would have
done nothing derogatory to himself, even in the eyes of Englishmen, if
he had used the really correct and comprehensive name Britain."--_Scots
Pictorial_.
SHAKSPEARE (ghost of), please note.