to know if Miss will take the dinner with her. Are they difficult
these English names!"
But English names are not Victorine's sole difficulty. She wrestles
(mentally) from time to time with the butcher and the baker and the
milkman. The milkman, it seems, is "un peu fou." Victorine greets him
in the mornings in voluble French, and he in return bows elaborately
and pretends to drop the milk. We have watched the process from an
upper window. Victorine takes a step backward, her hand flies to her
heart, and, as she afterwards informs us, "her blood gives but a turn"
at this exhibition of British wit. We have been wondering whether it
would be judicious to teach her to say, "Get along with yer."
She is very prolific in "ideas," and seems to be chiefly inspired when
engaged in the uncongenial pastime of cleaning the grate.
"Know you, Miss, that I have an idea, me?"
"No, really, Victorine."
"Yes," says Victorine, mournfully shaking her head, "but only an
idea." Victorine lays down her implements and places her hands on her
hips. "If," she says slowly, "this Meesus Schmeet who was with Mr. and
Miss before my arrival was a German spy, hein?"
"But why, Victorine?"
Victorine assumes an air of owl-like wisdom.
"See here," she says, placing the forefinger of one hand on the thumb
of the other, "first she depart to care for the niece who is
suffering--it is generally the mother, but that imports not. Then,"
counting along her fingers, "during three months she is absent, and,
thirdly," sinking her voice, "she sends for her _malles_, which
contain doubtless--who knows?--plans of London, designs of the
fortresses, and perhaps a telegraphy without wires--Marconi, what do I
know? Mademoiselle must admit that it has the air droll?"
We do our best to allay Victorine's anxiety. She however is not at all
convinced, and evidently reserves to herself full liberty of action to
protect us from German espionage and the effects of our own
guilelessness at a later date.
In the rare moments when not at work she is pensive, but her
imagination is by no means at rest. She gazes languidly out of the
window into "_ce brouillard_," as she fondly calls a slight morning
mist. The sparrows interest her.
"See, Miss, a sparrow who carries a piece of bread big as a house; is
it then an English sparrow that accomplishes such prodigies?"
Not quite fathoming the drift of Victorine's meditations we suggest
that it is perhaps a Belgian refugee sparrow, at which her amusement
is so intense that she is obliged to leave the room.
Sometimes her fancy takes great flights, for she is very high-minded.
Her weekly bath gives rise to much lofty philosophical reflection, and
she has come to the firm conclusion that it is "mieux que manger."
Also she has great taste, of which she occasionally gives us the
benefit. She laughs scornfully at certain _objets d'art_ and praises
others. Ornaments, if they meet with her approval, are arranged in
rigid lines of continuous beauty, less favoured ones being pushed into
the background, and books are disposed with assumed carelessness in
thoughtful postures. Though it is plain she thinks little of our taste
in general, her disapproval is usually silent. It is therefore with
almost choking pride that we receive her praise, though it is often,
we fear, of a disingenuous nature.
"It is plain that Miss has the eye artistic: that sees itself well in
the new basin she has bought to replace the one that fell by hazard
and burst itself. Monsieur also has the eye straight. In effect the
picture there that Monsieur designs is of a justness, but of a
justness! One would say the place itself," leaning back and half
closing her eyes. "In Belgium could it not be better done. No. It is
I, Victorine, who say it. If Monsieur has the false digestion, by
contrary it is evident that he has the head solid."
But Victorine has a fault dark and grievous in the British eye. She
jibs at fresh air.
"Surely Mr., and above all Miss, will take a congestion with the
window grand-open of that fashion? As for me I have the neuralgias to
make fear! Figure to yourself that in the kitchen the three windows
(where one would well suffice, go) if open make to pass a hurricane!"
A short lecture follows, in which the ill effects of stuffiness are
pointed out, and Victorine is reduced to unconvinced and mutinous
silence. As the days pass a little acquiescence in "cette manie pour
les courants d'air" is visible, but at the slightest approach of cold
every aperture through which air may possibly find its way is
surreptitiously closed, and it is only when she is out with her
husband taking a walk or refreshing the inner man in a "cafe" with "un
peu de stoot" that we can penetrate by stealth into her bedroom and
air it.
Jean Baptiste is for the moment in disgrace because he has not been to
see Victorine for a week. He is threatened with all sorts of penalties
when he finally decides to present himself. Primarily Victorine is
going to present him with _savon_, which appears in the vernacular to
be the Belgian equivalent for beans. She is also going to wash him the
head.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _First Old Dame._ "WELL, MY DEAR, AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING
FOR THE COUNTRY?"
_Second ditto._ "I AM KNITTING SOCKS FOR THE TROOPS."
_First Old Dame (robustly)._ "KNITTING! _I_ AM LEARNING TO SHOOT!"]
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
_Sir John Lubbock_, whose Life, by Mr. HORACE HUTCHINSON, MACMILLAN
publishes in two volumes, was one of the most honourable men who
figured in public life during the last half-century. He was also one
of the most widely honoured. Under his name on the title-page of the
book appears a prodigious paragraph in small type enumerating the high
distinctions bestowed upon him by British and foreign literary and
scientific bodies. Forestalling the leisure of a bank-holiday I have
counted the list and find it contains no fewer than fifty-two high
distinctions, one for every week of the year. These were won not by
striking genius or brilliant talent. Sir JOHN LUBBOCK, to preserve a
name which the crowning honour of the peerage did not displace in the
public mind, was by nature and daily habit constitutionally
industrious. After Eton he joined his father's banking business. In
his diary under date Christmas Day, 1852, being the nineteenth year of
his age, he gives an account of how he spends his day. It is too long
to quote, but, beginning by "getting up at half-past six," it includes
steady reading in natural history, poetry, political economy, science,
mathematics and German. Breakfast, luncheon and tea are mentioned in
due course; but there is no reference to dinner or supper. These
functions were doubtless regarded by the young student as frivolous
waste of time.
I knew LUBBOCK personally during his long membership of the House of
Commons. He had neither grace of diction nor charm of oratory. But he
had a way of getting Bills through all their stages which exceeded the
average attained by more attractive speakers. In his references to
Parliamentary life he mentions that GLADSTONE, when he proposed to
abolish the Income Tax, told him that he intended to meet the
deficiency partly by increase of the death duties. That was a
fundamental principle of the Budget Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL prepared
during his brief Chancellorship of the Exchequer. It was left to Sir
WILLIAM HARCOURT to realise the fascinating scheme, later to be
extended by Mr. LLOYD GEORGE. Another of Lord RANDOLPH'S personally
unfulfilled schemes was the introduction of one-pound notes. In a
letter dated 16th December, 1886, he confidentially communicated his
project to LUBBOCK. When his book reaches its second edition Mr.
HUTCHINSON will have an opportunity of correcting a misapprehension
set forth on page 48. He writes that, on June 21st, 1895, "all were
startled by an announcement that Mr. GLADSTONE had resigned and that
Parliament was to be dissolved." The surprise was not unnatural since
Lord ROSEBERY was Prime Minister at this memorable crisis.
* * * * *
I can see some good in most people, but none whatever in those
chairmen of meetings who, being put up to introduce distinguished
speakers, thoroughly well worth listening to, feel called upon to
delay matters by making lengthy speeches themselves. I propose to be
quite brief in announcing PROFESSOR STEPHEN LEACOCK on _Arcadian
Adventures with the Idle Rich_ (LANE). Conceive this arch-humourist
let loose, if so rough a term may be applied to so delicate a wit,
among the sordid and fleshly plutocracy of a progressive American
city; imagine his polished satire expending itself on such playful
themes as the running of fashionable churches on strictly commercial
lines, dogma and ritualism being so directed and adapted as to leave
the largest possible dividends on the Special Offertory Cumulative
Stock, and your appetite will be whetted for an intellectual feast of
the most delicious flavour. For myself, I found a certain quiet but
intense delight in the first five stories, episodes in the lives of
individual billionaires; but when I came to the last three, which
dealt with the class as a collective whole, then I became frankly
and noisily hilarious. I am not given to being tiresome in the
reading-room; it is another of the unforgivable offences; but I
defy any man of intelligence to read those chapters and retain even
a fair remnant of self-control.
* * * * *
_The Lighter Side of School Life_ (FOULIS) is one of the merriest and
shrewdest books that I have met for a long time. Mr. IAN HAY
pleasantly dedicates his work "to the members of the most responsible,
the least advertised, the worst paid, and the most richly rewarded
profession in the world"; and you will not have turned two pages
before discovering that the writer of them knows pretty thoroughly
what he is writing about. For my own part I claim to have some
experience both of schoolmasters and boys, and I can say at once that
the former at least have seldom been dealt with more faithfully than
by Mr. HAY. His chapter on "Some Form Masters" is a thing of the
purest joy; bitingly true, yet withal of a kindly sympathy with his
victims. One would say that he knows boys as well, were it not for the
conviction that to imagine any kind of understanding of Boydom is (if
my contemporaries will forgive me) the last enchantment of the
middle-aged, and the most fallacious. As for the Educational experts,
he has all the cold and calculated hate for them that is the mark of
experience. I admired especially his treatment of the "craze for
practical teaching," the theory which holds, for example, that,
instead of postulating a fixed relation between the circumference of a
circle and its diameter, a teacher should supply his boys with several
ordinary tin canisters, a piece of string and a ruler, and leave the
form to work out their own result. Decidedly, Mr. HAY has seen _The
Lighter Side of School Life_ with the eye of knowledge; and when I
mention that your own eyes will here encounter a dozen pictures by Mr.
LEWIS BAUMER at his delightful best--well, I suppose, enough said.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "KAISER BACK TO THE FRONT."
(ATTEMPTED ILLUSTRATION TO A RECENT POSTER OF THE EVENING
PRESS.)]
* * * * *
At one time, I hope for ever gone, Mr. PERCY WHITE'S sense of irony
ran away with him. He seemed to have said to himself, "I can write
witty dialogue and I have a shrewd eye for foibles, and if you are not
satisfied with that you can take it or leave it." I for one took it,
but always with a feeling that he was offering me a sparkling wine of
a quality not first-rate, whereas with a little more trouble and
expense he could have offered me an unimpeachable brand. Now that
_Cairo_ (CONSTABLE) has provided me with what I have been waiting for,
I am more than delighted to present my acknowledgments. Mr. WHITE'S
subject is pat to the moment; moreover it is handled with such
unobtrusive skill that one absorbs a serious problem without being
anxiously conscious that all the play of intrigue and adventure is
covering a much deeper motive. When Mr. WHITE sent _Daniel Addington_
to Egypt to meet _Abdul Sayed_, who had been at Oxford and was a
leader of the Young Egyptian party, he gave himself a chance of which
he has taken full advantage. It is true that _Addington_ cried a pest
on all politics as soon as he fell a victim to the charms of _Ann
Donne_, a widow of excessive sprightliness; but by that time he was
too deeply enmeshed in the nets of intrigue to escape the just reward
of those amateurs who dabble with critical situations. _Abdul_
regarded him as a "milksop," and so he was from _Abdul's_ full-blooded
point of view; but I can also see in him a fresh testimony to the
courage of our race. For he married the widow _Ann_, and that was a
very plucky thing to do.
* * * * *
The only thing that I didn't like about _Molly, My Heart's Delight_
(SMITH, ELDER) was the title. But to allow yourself to be put off by
this will be to miss one of the pleasantest books of the season. What
I might call true fiction has always held a peculiar charm for me. In
the present work that clever writer, KATHARINE TYNAN, has been lucky
and astute enough to find an ideal heroine, ready made to her
hand, in the person of the charming woman who married DEAN DELANY.
Upon the basis of her diaries and letters the romance has been built
up, with the excellent result of a blend of art and actuality that
is most engaging. _Molly_ is the gayest of creatures in her girlhood.
We see her character develop gradually, tamed and half broken by
her unhappy first marriage (an episode exquisitely treated, so that
even the ugly side of it bears yet some precious jewels of charity
and long-suffering), tried in the fire of romantic adoration, and
finally reaching its appointed destiny in the comradeship with
"kind, tender, faithful D.D." Lovers of diaries and memoirs,
equally with those who like a graceful tale well told, will find what
they want here, from the moment when its heroine goes, a girl-bride,
to the romantically gloomy house of Rhoscrow, to that other moment
when the placid mistress of the Deanery hears of the death of
_Bellamy_, the man whom all her life she really loved. This book of
_Molly_ should be a "heart's delight" to many.
* * * * *
"ARIZONA BILL VIOLATES TREATIES."--_New York Times._
So does Potsdam BILL.
* * * * *
PUNCH IN THE TRENCHES.
_Mr. Punch_ drew another letter from the heap on his office-desk and
opened it.
_Polwheedle, Cornwall._
DEAR _Mr. Punch_,--An amusing incident happened here yesterday. I was
talking to an old countryman, a great character in the village, and I
happened to make some remark about the War. "What war?" asked old
Jarge. "The European War," I answered in surprise. "Well," he said,
"they've got a fine day for it." I thought this would interest you.
Yours etc.,
JOHN BROWN.
"Two hundred and eighteen," said _Mr. Punch_ to himself, and took the
next letter from the heap.
_Wortleberry, Sussex._
Mr. William Smith presents his compliments to _Mr. Punch_ and begs to
send him the following dialogue which occurred in this village
yesterday:--
_Myself._ "Well, what do you think of the War, Jarge?"
_Jarge._ "What war?"
_Myself (surprised)._ "The European War."
_Jarge._ "They've got a fine day for it, anyhow."
Mr. Smith thought you would like this.
"Two hundred and nineteen," said _Mr. Punch_ to himself, "not counting
the South African or Crimean ones." He sighed and selected a third
letter.
_Sporransprock, Kirkcudbrightshire._
DEAR _Mr. Punch_,--How's this? I asked a native what he thought of the
War. On being told which war, he replied, "Eh, mon, ye ken, but
they've got a gran'----"
At this point _Mr. Punch_ rose from his chair and began to pace the
room restlessly.
"There must be more in life than this," he said to himself again and
again; "this can't be all."
He looked at his watch.
"Yes," he murmured, "that's it. I shall just have time."
Hastily donning the military overcoat of an Honorary Cornet-Major of
the Bouverie Street Roughriders, he left for the Front.
* * * * *
Mud, and then again mud, and then very much more mud.
"Halt! Who goes there?" "Friend," said _Mr. Punch_ hopefully. "It's
_Mr. Punch_," said a cheerful voice. "Come in."
The Cornet-Major of the B.S.R. glissaded into the trench and found
himself shaking hands with a very young subaltern of the ----th ----s.
[_Censored._]
"Thought I recognised you," he said. "Glad to see you out here, Sir."
"That's really what I came about," said _Mr. Punch_. "I want your
advice."
"My advice! Good Lord!... Sure you're comfortable there? Now what'll
you have? Cigar or barley-sugar?" _Mr. Punch_ accepted a cigar.
"We're all for barley-sugar ourselves just now," the subaltern went
on. "Seems kiddish, but there it is."
_Mr. Punch_ lit his cigar and proceeded to explain himself.
"I say that I have come to consult you," he began. "It seems strange,
you think. I am seventy-three, and you are----"
"Twenty-two," said the subaltern. "Next November."
"And yet Seventy-three comes here to sit at the feet of Twenty-two,
and for every encouraging word that Twenty-two offers him Seventy-three
will say 'Thank you!'"
"Rats," said Twenty-two for a start.
"Let me explain," said the Venerable One. "There come moments in the
life of every man when he says suddenly to himself, 'What am I doing?
Is it worth it?'--a moment when the work of which he has for years
been proud seems all at once to be of no value whatever." The
subaltern murmured something. "No, not necessarily indigestion. There
may be other causes. Well, such a moment has just come to me ... and I
wondered." He hesitated, and then added wistfully, "Perhaps you could
say something to help me."
"The pen," said the subaltern, coughing slightly, "is mightier than
the sword."
"It is," said the Sage. "I've often said so ... in Peace time."
The subaltern blushed as he searched his mind for the Historic
Example.
"Didn't WOLFE say that he would rather have written what's-its-name
than taken Quebec?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Yes, he did. And for most of his life the poet would have agreed with
him. But, if at the moment when he read of the taking of Quebec you
had asked GRAY, I think he would have changed places with WOLFE very
willingly.... And in Bouverie Street," added _Mr. Punch_, "we read of
the takings of Quebecs almost every day."
The subaltern was thoughtful for a moment.
"I'll tell you a true story," he said quietly. "There was a man in
this trench who had his leg shot off. They couldn't get him away till
night, and here he had to wait for the whole of the day.... He stuck
it out.... And what do you think he stuck it out on?"
"Morphia?" suggested _Mr. Punch_.
"Partly on morphia, and partly on--something else."
"Yes?" said _Mr. Punch_ breathlessly.
"Yes--_you_. He read ... and he laughed ... and by-and-by the night
came."
A silence came over them both. Then _Mr. Punch_ got up quietly.
"Good-bye," he said, holding out his hand, "and thank you. That moment
I spoke about seems to have gone." He took a book from under his arm
and placed it in the other's hands. "I generally give this away with
rather a flourish," he confessed. "This time I'll just say, 'Will you
take it?' It's all there; all that I think and hope and dream, and
that you out here are doing.... Good luck to you--and let me help some
more of you to stick it out."
And with that he returned to Bouverie Street, leaving behind in the
trench his
[Illustration: One Hundred and Forty-Seventh Volume.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: INDEX]
Cartoons.
PARTRIDGE, BERNARD.
At the Post of Honour, 203
Children's Truce (The), 519
Chronic Complaint (A), 459
Eagle Comique (The), 419
Emergency Exit (The), 11
Excursionist (The), 379
Giving the Show Away, 319
Glorious Example (A), 399
God (and the Women) our Shield, 223
Hail! Russia, 243
Killed, 499
King at the Front (The), 479
Masterpiece in the Making (A), 51
Mutual Service, 131
New Army to the Front (The), 539
Pattern of Chivalry (A), 439
Plain Duty (A), 359
Resort to the Obvious (A), 91
Road to Russia (The), 299
Triumph of "Culture" (The), 185
Unconquerable, 339
What of the Dawn?, 111
World's Enemy (The), 167
RAVEN-HILL, L.
At Durazzo-super-Mare, 83
Beaten on Points, 23
Carrying on, 431
Coming of the Cossacks (The), 177
Cool Stuff, 123
Dishonoured, 531
Forewarned, 371
For Friendship and Honour, 151
Fulfilment, 511
Good Hunting, 411
Greater Game (The), 331
Great Goth (The), 281
Great Illusion (The), 263
His Master's Voice, 391
India for the King, 215
Innocent (The), 471
Joseph Chamberlain, 71
Limit (The), 351
Made in Germany, 235
North Sea Chantey (A), 311
Political Jungle (The), 40-41
Power Behind (The), 103
Sinews of War (The), 491
To Arms, 195
Well Met, 161
When the Ships come Home, 3
TOWNSEND, F. H.
Boer and Briton Too, 273
Bravo, Belgium, 143
Incorrigibles (The), 291
Liberal Cave-Men (The), 63
Men of Few Words, 451
Nothing Doing, 255
* * * * *
Articles.
BOYLE, W. P.
In Memory, 280
BRIGHTWELL, L. R.
Another Misjudged Alien, 465
Notes by a War Dog, 385
BROWN, C. HILTON
Cottage (The), 138
Little Brother, 495
CALDECOTT, H. S.
Paris Again, 426
CAMPBELL, A. Y.
Stick to it, Right Wing, 335
CHALMERS, P. R.
At the Tower, 62
Bees (The), 121
Fact and Fable, 110
Fan, 435
Guns of Verdun, 202
Infantry, 222
In the City, 181
Jules Francois, 315
Kings from the East, 260
Kitty Adair, 98
Lady's Walk (The), 377
Prima Donna (The), 31
Southdowns (The), 343
Steeple (The), 279
To Limehouse, 251
Wilhelm, 348
Wireless, 395
COBB, MISS J.
Willow Pattern Plate (The), 503
COCHRANE, A.
Sporting Despatch (A), 464
Tirpitz Touch (The), 242
COLLINS, G. H.
To a Super-Patriot, 413
CRESWELL, BULKELEY
Rubbing It In, 56
DARK, RICHARD
Love's Labour Not Lost, 474
Voice in the Night (A), 536
DAVEY, NORMAN
R.G.A. 536
DRENNAN, W. ST. G.
Docthor's War Speech (The), 424
Tommy Brown, Auctioneer, 466
Tommy Brown, Patriot, 394
Tommy Brown, Recruiting Sergeant, 330
DUFFIELD, E. N.
Silvern Tongue (The), 268
DUFFIN, MISS
Barbara's Birthday Bear, 524
ECKERSLEY, ARTHUR
Cutting Down, 268
New News (The), 179
Next (The), 541
Pacificist (The), 238
EDEN, MRS. H. P.
Prize (The), 521
ELIAS, F.
How Germany Came Off, 194
How War is "Made in Germany", 163
Mails for a Mailed Fist, 498
Sound and Fury, 279
Why I Don't Enlist, 410
Works of Kultur, 341
EMANUEL, WALTER
Catch (The), 259
Charivaria, weekly
Nut's Views on the War (A), 306
FAY, STANLEY J.
Plea for Pegasus (A), 166
Price of Patriotism (The), 430
FORSTER, R. H.
Food War (A), 259
GARVEY, MISS INA
Blanche's Letters, 68, 206, 396
GITTINS, H. N.
Double Cure (The), 129
Exercise 1, 95
GLASGOW, MRS. R.
On Earth--Peace, 521
GRAHAM, SCOTT
Militant's Tariff (The), 15
GRAVES, C. L.
Burgomaster Max, 301
Father Wilhelm, 397
Freedom of the Press (The), 483
Imperial Infanticide (The), 537
Minor War Games, 501
New School of Divinity (The), 257
Passing of the Cow (The), 137
Super-Sympathy, 239
To Mr. Bernard Jaw, 430
Two Germanies (The), 213
War's Revenges, 464
Woman at the Fight, 25
GRAVES, C. L., AND LUCAS, E. V.
Answers to Correspondents, 171
Archibong, 382
As Others Wish to See Us, 381
Aunt Louisa's Song Scena, 414
Balm for the Brainless, 16
Choice (The), 278
Feline Amenities, 187
First Blunder (The), 230
From Another Point of View, 189
Heroes (The), 209
Limit of Ignorance (The), 424
Meditations on Mushrooms, 286
Mutability, 105
My Brother's Letter, 326
My Favourite Paper, 404
My Hardy Annual, 126
Our Literary War Lords, 378
Our Mighty Penmen, 476
Our Overburdened Heroes, 226
Oxford in Transition, 82
Politics at the Zoo, 30
Progress of Man (The), 106
Real Hero of the War (The), 532
Real Reason (The), 361
Renamed Celebrities, 313
Santa Claus at the Front, 522
Surprise (The), 346
Volumes, 145
White Man's Burden (The), 355
HASELDEN, PERCY
En Passant, 192
Moon-Pennies, 304
Searchlights on the Mersey, 478
To a Pompadour Clock, 269
HASTINGS, B. MACDONALD
Keeping in the Limelight, 515
HODGKINSON, T.
Benefactor (A), 462
Diplomacy, 94
Forlorn Hope (The), 486
Imports and Exports, 247
Repatriation, 426
Silent Charmer (The), 16
Stable Information, 497
To a Jaded German Pressman, 306
Viking Spirit (The), 170
Wiser Choice (The), 135
HUGHES, C. E.
Restorative Power of Music (The), 150