My dear James,--Ere long the military machine will be able to spare
one of its cogs--myself. Yes, James, soon you will once again see
me in my silk hat, cerise fancy vest and brown boots (among other
garments). I think I shall have brass buttons on all my coats for the
sheer joy of seeing them without let or hindrance grow green from
lack of polish. I shall once again train my hair in graceful curling
strands under (respectively) the south-east and south-west corners of
my ears. If I meet my Brigadier in the street I shall notice him or
not just according to my whim of the moment. But, James, I shall have
to work for my living. There's the rub.
I must say the Army tries to help one. Somebody or other has issued
a whole schedule of civil occupations to assist me in my choice of a
career. It offers an embarrassment of riches.
Take the "A's." I was momentarily attracted by _Air Balloon Maker_.
It sounds a joyous job. Think of the delight of sending forth these
delicate nothings inflated and perfect. My only fear is that I should
destroy the fruits of my own labour. One touch of my rough hands
is always inimical to an air-balloon. And if you know of any more
depressing sight than a collapsed air-balloon, all moist and incapable
of resurrection, for heaven's sake keep it to yourself.
_Allowance Man_ (_brewing_) sounds hopeful. My only question is: Does
an _Allowance Man_ (_brewing_) fix his own allowance (brewed)?
Am I slightly knock-kneed or am I not? Do write me frankly on the
subject. You have seen me divested of trousers. Because if I am then
I don't think I will try my luck as an _Artist's Model_.
_Athlete_.--Ha! I feel my biceps and find it not so soft. It's
a wearing life, though. Is there such a thing as an _Athlete_
(_indoor_)? You know my speed and agility at Ludo.
I flatter myself I have musical taste, but _Back and Belly Maker_
(_piano_) I consider vulgar--almost indecent, in fact. Such anatomical
intimacy with the piano would destroy for me the bewitchment of the
Moonlight Sonata.
There is something very alluring about _Bank Note Printer_. I see
the chance of continuing the Army trick of making a living without
working for it. Surely a _Bank Note Printer_ is allowed his little
perquisites. Why should he print millions of bank notes for other
people and none for himself? I can imagine an ill-used _Bank Note
Printer_ very easily becoming a Bolshevist.
_Barb Maker_ (_wire_) I do not like. I have too many unpleasant
memories of the Somme. It is a hideous trade and ought to be abolished
altogether.
If I am wrong correct me, but isn't the prime function of a _Bargee_
to swear incessantly? Not my forte, James. What you thought you heard
that day in 1911, when I missed a six-inch putt, was only "Yam," which
is a Thibetan expression meaning "How dreadfully unfortunate!" I knew
a Major once--but that's for another article.
Beneath the heading "Bat" I find _Bat Maker_ (_brick_) and _Bat
Maker_ (_tennis_). Under which king, James? Anyway, I hate a man who
talks about a "tennis bat." He would probably call football shorts
"knickers."
I am favourably inclined towards _Bathing Machine Attendant_ (why
not _Bathing Mechanic_, for short?) What a grand affair to ride old
Dobbin into the seething waves and pretend he was a sea-serpent!
Confidentially, there are lots of people to whose bathing-machines
I would give an extra push when I had unlimbered their vehicles and
turned Dobbin's nose again towards the cliffs of Albion.
My pleasure in stirring things with a ladle nearly decided me to train
as a _Bean Boiler_; but I fear the monotony. Nothing but an endless
succession of beans, with never a carrot to make a splash of colour
nor an onion to scent the steamy air. And, James, I have a friend who
is known to all and sundry as "The Old Bean." Every bean I was called
upon to boil would remind me of him, whom I would not boil for worlds.
Here is something extraordinarily attractive--_Black Pudding Maker_.
You know black puddings. I am told that when you stew them (do not eat
them cold, I implore you!) they give off ambrosial perfumes, and that
after tasting one you would never again touch _pèche Melba_. But as a
_Black Pudding Maker_ should I become nauseated?
Almost next door comes _Blood Collector_. Wait while I question the
Mess Cook ... James, I cannot become a Black Pudding maker. The Mess
Cook tells me that _Blood Collector_ and _Black Pudding Maker_ are
probably allied trades. How dreadful!
How about _Bobber?_ Does that mean that I should have to shear my
wife's silken tresses? Cousin Phyllis has appeared with a tomboy's
shock of hair, and she says it "has only been bobbed." By a "bobber"?
I would like to wring his neck. But if _Bobber_ has something to do
with those jolly little things that dance about on cotton machines
(aren't they called "bobbins"?) I will consider it.
I have not even finished the "B's." A glance ahead and other
enchanting vistas are revealed. For instance, _Desiccated Soup Maker,
Filbert Grower_ and (simply) _Retired_.
This Schedule is splendid in its way, but why can't they be honest?
They must know that lots of us in our great national army are in
ordinary life just rogues and vagabonds. The Schedule ignores such
honest tradesmen. How is a respectable tramp to know when his group
is called for demobilisation if he is not even given a group? What a
nation of prigs and pretenders we are!
Yours ever, WILLIAM.
* * * * *
_AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MOEURS._
My baker gives me chunks of bread--
He used to throw them at my head;
His manners, I rejoice to state,
Have very much improved of late.
My butcher was extremely gruff,
And sold me--oh, such horrid stuff;
But I observe, since Peace began,
Some traces of a better man.
I find my grocer hard to please
In little things like jam or cheese;
Now that the men are coming back
His scowl, I think, is not so black.
My coalman is a haughty prince
No tears could move or facts convince;
But tyrants topple everywhere
And he too wears a humbler air.
My milkman was a man of wrath
As he came down the garden path;
But, since the Hohenzollern fell,
I find him almost affable.
And what is this? My greengrocer
(A most determined character)
Approaches--'13 style--to say,
"What can I do for you to-day?"
* * * * *
"GERMAN CONSTITUTION.