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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL 146
JUNE 24, 1914.
CHARIVARIA.
The Cambridge University Boat Club has decided to spend £8,000 in
improving the Cam. There is talk of making it into a river.
* * *
Says a writer in a contemporary, "Don't live in a houseboat during a
flood." And yet NOAH always declared that he owed his life to having
done so.
* * *
The gentlemen who formed M. RIBOT'S Cabinet are objecting to being
described as "The One-Day Ministry." They were, they assert, in office
for some hours more than that.
* * *
The attack on M. RIBOT'S Ministry in the matter of the Three Years'
Service was led in the Chamber by three quite undistinguished
Socialists; and the contest was described succinctly by an unsympathetic
onlooker as "_Trois ânes_ v. _Trois ans._"
* * *
By the way, M. VIVIANI'S Finance Minister is, we see, M. NOULENS. Is he,
we wonder, any relation of M. Noulens-Voulens?
* * *
The KAISER has commanded that the Colonial War Memorial to be erected in
Berlin shall take the form of an elephant. Presumably it is to be of
Parian marble in order to signify that some of the German colonies are a
bit like a white elephant.
* * *
A French squadron of eighteen vessels has lately been visiting Portland.
It was perhaps a little unfortunate that Admiral CALLAGHAN'S ship should
have been _The Iron Duke_--but no doubt our tactful officers explained
to their visitors that the vessel had been so named after a wealthy
iron-master who had been ennobled.
* * *
The report that an airship expedition is being prepared against the MAD
MULLAH is said to have caused keen delight to the old gentleman, as he
has never seen an aeronautical display of any kind.
* * *
It is now suggested that when Mr. HOBHOUSE took possession of H.M.S.
_Monarch_, he was labouring under the delusion that he was
Postmaster-Admiral as well as Postmaster-General.
* * *
The publication of _The Best of Lamb_, by Messrs. METHUEN, reminds one
that a literary butcher once complained that LAMB had not been issued in
The Canterbury Poets.
* * *
Although Mr. T. P. O'CONNOR is severing his connection with _T. P.'s
Weekly_ the name of the paper will not be changed. This sort of thing is
well calculated to confuse and unsettle the public. "T. P. or not T. P.?
that'll be the question."
* * *
Illustration: _Examining Admiral_ (_to naval candidate_). "NOW MENTION
THREE GREAT ADMIRALS."
_Candidate._ "DRAKE, NELSON AND--I BEG YOUR PARDON, SIR, I DIDN'T QUITE
CATCH YOUR NAME."
* * *
It is denied that the title of our newest magazine--_Blast_--was
suggested by Mr. BERNARD SHAW.
* * *
"Old Spot Pigs," we are informed, are now being bred successfully once
more. It surprises us to hear this announced as a triumph. One would
have thought that in these days of beauty culture a clear complexion
would have been the desideratum.
* * *
"If," says a contemporary, "the middle-class girl were regularly
provided with a dowry, the matrimonial enthusiasm of young men would
probably be stimulated." We cannot imagine how people think of these
clever things.
* * *
Members of the Women's Social and Political Union are, says _The Daily
Mail_, boycotting West-End shopkeepers and stores not advertising in the
Militant organs. However, if the rest of the public will agree to
boycott such firms as do advertise in these organs the matter should
come all right.
* * *
A warning has been issued to pic-nic parties as to the danger from
adders, which are exceptionally numerous this year. They are apt to bite
if suddenly sat upon, and prudent persons are taking the precaution of
sitting on their plates.
* * *
"I shall never," writes a journalist in _The Express_, "forget the
shudder with which I saw a very well-known dramatist at a garden party
eating strawberries with his gloves on." We ourselves sometimes have
these sudden sensations, but, unlike the writer, are very prone to let
them slip out of our memory.
* * *
A dress-designer, we read, went mad one day last week in Paris and fired
a number of revolver shots at the police. To judge by many of the
creations one sees there must be quite an epidemic of mental deficiency
just now among designers of modes.
* * *
"Bags," we read in a lady's paper, "are going out of fashion." Men will,
however, continue to wear them.
* * * * *
From a list of awards at the Horse Show:--
"Riding Jonies ... Shetland Jones ... Pairs of Pones ..."--_Morning
Post._
You see the animal they mean.
* * * * *
"Cutter wanted for ladies' and gentlemen's trade; city house; state
experience, salary."
An ordinary enough advertisement, but _The Irish Times_ imparts a
certain melancholy humour to it by inserting it in the section headed
"Yachts, Boats, etc."
* * * * *
"GRAND NIGHTS."
O benchers of the various ancient Inns
At whose so generous tables I have battened,
Where potions of the best and fruitiest bins
And fare on which LUCULLUS might have fattened
Tend to reduce the awe
Proper to laymen shadowed by the Law;
How good I find it, full of meat, to sit
(The while Oporto's juice of '87,
Served on the polished board with silver lit,
Heartens me to postpone the joys of Heaven)
And hear, _remotis curis_,
The legal jest, the apt _scintilla juris_.
But most I compliment, with thanks profuse,
The touch that gives your feasts their crowning savour,
Whose absence must have marred the duckling _mousse_,
Ruined the _neige au Kirsch_, and soured the flavour
Of Madame MELBA'S peaches--
I mean the pledge upon my card, "No Speeches."
There's only one I like, and that's "The KING"!
(I give the text in full--no superfluities);
Why should I have to hear some dodderer sing
Praise of the Government (whichever crew it is),
While some one else endorses
The obvious merits of our fighting forces?
If I have dined too well, to-morrow's cure
Shall be the fine for my excessive feasting;
But, at the night's tail-end, I can't endure
A punishment that bores me like a bee-sting,
Poisoning all the mirth
That should companion my distended girth.
For this relief from those who spoil the vine
(How oft have I refused, O learned Benchers,
For fear of speeches, other men's and mine,
The chance of feeding off the choicest trenchers)--
For this relief I rank you
High up among my benefactors. Thank you.
O. S.
* * * * *
HOW THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS WON.
(A _Story of 1918._)
The last match of the season was between Kent and Somerset. Kent and
Surrey were at the top of the Championship table, with the following
percentages:--
Kent 87.51
Surrey 87.23
Surrey had completed its programme. Thus all depended on the result of
this Kent-Somerset match. To become champions Kent had either to win
outright or to keep their percentage intact by the circumstance of both
sides not completing an innings.
Play was impossible on the first day owing to rain. On the second day
Somerset scored 157. Rain fell again and Kent were unable to commence
their innings till the afternoon of the third day. Obviously they had to
strain every nerve to accomplish two things: (1) to avoid getting out
and (2) to avoid scoring more than 157. At all hazards they must neither
win nor lose on the first innings. They could not win the match. There
was no time. And either a win or a loss on the first innings would lower
their percentage sufficiently to enable Surrey to go to the top. For in
the matter of averages it is better under certain conditions not to have
fought at all than to secure only a portion of the honours.
It was an extraordinary afternoon's cricket. The Kent batsmen were very
careful, but two minutes before time there were 156 runs on the board
and the last two batsmen were at the wicket. If a wicket fell or a
couple of runs were scored Kent would lose the Championship. Strong men
shivered like leaves as ball after ball was steadily blocked by the
batsmen. Red-faced farmers wore their pencils to stumps in explaining
the appalling alternatives. Somerset, in the most sporting spirit, were
trying their hardest. A couple of deliberately-bowled wides would, of
course, have given Surrey the championship, but Somerset were playing
for the honour and glory of defeating Kent on the first innings.
The last two Kent men displayed wonderful nerve. The straight ones were
carefully stopped and every ball off the wicket was left alone. Needless
to say the softest long hop to leg would not have tempted them to hit.
When the bowler prepared to deliver the last ball of the day the very
trees round the ground seemed to stop whispering. It was a good length
ball, very fast and pitched slightly to the off. The batsman raised his
bat, expecting it to fly past the wicket. To his horror it nipped in.
Down came the bat in frantic haste. Heaven be praised! Just in time! The
bat just snicked the ball off. It missed the wicket by an eighth of an
inch and shot away to leg.
Then occurred one of those incidents that men boast of having witnessed,
one of those strange happenings in sport that are recounted to
generation after generation.
The ball had shot away to leg where there was no fieldsman. One of the
slips immediately made after it. The batsmen naturally did not run as
they did not wish to score. But suddenly it occurred to the striker that
it might reach the boundary, that the slip field might not be fast
enough to catch it up, and that, therefore, Kent would win on the first
innings and in so doing lose the championship. The idea flashed across
his mind almost immediately after he had hit the ball, and with a
promptness of action that was really beyond all admiration he dropped
his bat and ran like a madman in pursuit of the ball.
He easily outstripped the Somerset slip, who was rather a stout man, and
fled like a hare after the little red devil that was scorching fast in
search of the fatal four.
Men groaned in the agony of their excitement and women shrieked
hysterically.
On flew the gallant Kent batsman. Nearer and nearer he got to the ball.
He overtook it. He stopped it. Three inches from the boundary he fell on
it and hugged it to his chest. The match was a draw, a glorious draw!
Neither side had won or lost a point. It did not count in the
Championship table. Kent were Champions!
In the mad excitement of the moment no one thought of appealing on the
question of handling the ball or interfering with the field. Moreover
both the umpires had swooned and were being removed on shutters. The
result stood. The hero of the game was carried into the pavilion by two
music-hall agents and a reporter.
* * * * *
Editorial Amenities.
"I have no fault to find with 'Towser,' except that it is very much
like scores of other dog stories; that is probably why you have
failed to place it. Have you tried the 'Manchester Guardian'?"
_T.P.'s Weekly._
* * * * *
"What comes after Home Rule?--Mormons in Germany."
_Vancouver Daily Province._
Fortunately we shan't mind that.
* * * * *
Illustration: "CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS."
* * * * *
MUSICAL NOTES.
The remarkable and altogether epoch-making article in _The Times_ of the
16th inst., on the stimulating effect of the bath on unmusical people,
has already borne notable fruit. Meetings of the Governing Bodies of all
the principal Musical Colleges and Academies were held on the following
day, at which it was unanimously determined, as one of the speakers put
it, to effect a closer synthesis of harmony and ablution. Sir HUBERT
PARRY, himself celebrated in his youth for his prowess in natation, has
offered to present the Royal College of Music with a magnificent
swimming bath; Mr. LANDON RONALD has drafted a scheme for the erection
of a floating bath in the Thames for the convenience of the Guildhall
School, and Sir ALEXANDER MACKENZIE has offered the students of the
R.A.M. an annual prize for the best vocal composition in praise of
saponaceous abstergents.
* * * * *
Outside our musical academies the impetus given to musicians and
composers has been equally remarkable. Professor Banville de Quantock,
whose Oriental proclivities are well known, has at once embarked on a
gigantic choral symphony, to words of his own composition, in which the
whole process and procedure of the Turkish Bath is treated historically,
dramatically and realistically in seventeen movements. The title has not
yet been definitely fixed, but it will probably be known as the
_Symphonie Bathétique_, to differentiate it from TSCHAIKOVSKY'S
hackneyed work.
* * * * *
STRAUSS is reported by Mr. KALISCH to be engaged on a series of
_Spritzbadlieder_ of extraordinary beauty and complexity, in which a
wonderful effect is produced by the employment in the orchestral
accompaniment of a new instrument called the Loofaphone, which produces
a curious hissing noise like that emitted by a groom when using the
currycomb. Another instrument to which prominence is assigned in the
score is called the Saponola and bears a resemblance to the spalacoid
sub-family of mandrils, which have the mandibular angles in close
proximity to the sockets of the lower cephalopods. The motto of the work
is "_Das ewig Seifige_."
We may further note, as one of the most valuable by-products of _The
Times_ article, the announcement that an international Balneo-Musical
Congress will be shortly held in the Albert Hall, with a view to
discussing the best methods of promoting harmonic hygiene. The arena, we
understand, is to be converted into a vast demonstration-tank, in which
prominent composers, conductors and singers will appear. Miss CARRIE
TUBB has kindly promised to preside. Amongst other items in the
programme we may mention an exhibition of under-water violin-playing by
Mr. Bamberger, and a game of symphonic water-polo between two teams of
Rhine maidens, captained by Herr NIKISCH and Sir HENRY WOOD
respectively.
* * * * *
Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF THE ENEMY.
* * * * *
IDEAL HOLIDAYS.
SOME FURTHER OPINIONS.
_COLONEL ROOSEVELT._--There is no doubt whatever that the best holiday
ground is Brazil. There one can have excitement day and night. When one
is not escaping from a man-eating trout one is eluding a vampire bat. If
the time is slow one can always seek the Rapids. Next to Brazil I should
suggest the offices of the New River Company.
_MR. HOBHOUSE (P.M.G.)._--I know very little of holidays, having to keep
my nose to St. Martin's-le-Grind-stone day and night, but I have thought
that, if I did take a week or so off, I should choose to spend it on the
Post Office yacht, roughing it.
_SIR EDWARD CARSON._--Such time as I can spare from Ulster and my daily
journey to and from London I should like to spend in explaining to
REDMOND the duties of a War-lord.
_MR. FRANK TINNEY (the famous American tragedian)._--Ordinary holidays
is just so much junk. Me and ERNEST don't hold with them. Our idea of a
holiday is to go down town and hear jokes. The more jokes we hear the
bigger stock we have not to tell.
_MR. WINSTON CHURCHILL._--I have often wondered if a busy administrator
might not get a very restful time by steadily refusing to fly.
_MR. ASQUITH._--This talk about the constant need for holidays seems to
me to be, if I may say so, one of the great illusions of the day. The
wise man surely is he who, seated in his chair of office, welcomes every
new complication and perplexity that the moments bring, and in labour
finds the true repose.
_MR. MASTERMAN._--I am spending my own holiday just now very agreeably
in composing conundrums. This is my latest: "Why do I differ from my
trousers?" The answer is, "Because they don't want reseating."
_LORD WIMBORNE._--There is no place for a holiday like Meadowbrook.
* * * * *
A set of 12 Elizabethan "Apostle" spoons were recently offered for sale
at Messrs. CHRISTIE'S. Only one actual Apostle (Saint PETER) was
available, but excellent substitutes were provided in the persons of
ALEXANDER THE GREAT, CHARLEMAGNE, JULIUS CÆSAR, KING ARTHUR, GUY OF
WARWICK, QUEEN ELIZABETH, JUDAS MACCABEUS and others.
* * * * *
"The fielding was particularly smart and the batsmen could not get
the ball away, the only hit worth mention for several hours being a
4 by Tarrant off Bullough."
_Newcastle Evening Chronicle._
A few more efforts like this and we shall suspect TARRANT of having read
the "Brighter Cricket" articles.
* * * * *
"A wireless message has been received here from the liner, New
York, reporting that while in a dense fog she was struck a glancing
blow abaft the bow by the steamer Pretoria.
The New York was stooping at the time, and the shock was only
slight."
_Glasgow Evening News._
Showing the advantage of being caught bending.
* * * * *
Illustration: _Sergeant (to new recruit who is grooming his horse very
gingerly)._ "NOW THEN, CULLY, JUST YOU BE CAREFUL 'OW YOU DUST THAT
THERE 'ORSE; 'E'S A DELICATE PIECE, 'E IS, AND 'E SHOWS THE SLIGHTEST
SCRATCH."
* * * * *
"WHEN OTHER LIPS ..."
The most original feature of the Opera-Ballet, _Le Coq d'Or_, given last
week for the first time in England, was the arrangement by which the
actors were excused from singing, and the singers from acting. Chorus
and soloists, dressed uniformly, without distinction of sex, in a
nondescript maroon attire, were disposed on each side of the stage in a
couple of grand stands, from which they saw little or nothing of the
entertainment but enjoyed an uninterrupted view of the conductor. This
left the actors free to attend to the primary business of miming, which,
when it came to the distribution of applause, they clearly regarded as
the most important element in the show.
I look for great things from this new departure. It is rare enough for
an operatic performer to be capable of both singing and acting, or to be
alike beautiful to look on and to listen to. Once we have accepted the
convention by which an actor's lips are allowed to move in one part of
the stage while the sound comes from a totally different quarter, we may
go further and arrange for the singers to be put out of sight
altogether. He (and more particularly, she) might be posted behind some
sort of screen, diaphanous in respect of the vocalists' view of the
conductor, but opaque to the audience. When I think of some of the
rather antique and amorphous _prime donne_ of German, Italian and French
opera, I know that any scheme which would render them invisible and
permit their acting parts to be played by young and gracious figures
would meet with my unqualified approval. It would be necessary, of
course, to consult them first (a task which I would not care to
undertake), and this division of labour would no doubt entail additional
expense, but I am convinced that the pure love of art for art's sake
which is inherent in the nature of all operatic stars and syndicates
would ultimately rise superior to considerations whether of pelf or
_amour propre_.
O. S.
* * * * *
From a catalogue:--
"WELLS (H. G.) Ann Veronica, a Modern Love Story, cr. 8vo. _cloth_
(_rather dull_)."
* * * * *
DOMESTIC ECONOMY.
[Another Husband Housekeeper, supplementing the information already
published in _The Daily Mail_, reveals the system of housekeeping
by enforcing which he saves pounds and pounds and pounds a year.]
When Sunday's heavy meal is done
Our joint's career is but begun.
_Imprimis_, undismayed and bold,
It reappears on Monday, cold.
And lo! the same on Tuesday will
Appear again, and colder still.
The odds and ends we keep in store,
Divided neatly into four.
A portion (No. 1) will do
For Wednesday's so-to-speak "ragoût";
A portion (No. 2) will be
The gist of Thursday's "fricassee";
A portion (No. 3) supply
The pith of Friday's "cottage pie";
A portion (No. 4) will play
The leading _rôle_ on Saturday,
Entitled, may be, "_à la russe_,"
Or, better still, "anonymous."
Thus is economy attained,
For thus is appetite constrained.
* * * * *
"DRIVEN."
(_With a slight hook to it_).
I.
SCENE--_The drawing-room of_ John Staffurth, M. P. _Enter_ Staffurth
_and_ Barbara Cullen.
_Staffurth._ Barbara, the doctors have given their verdict. My wife has
only two years to live.
_Barbara._ John, but she looks so well! What's the matter with her?
_Staffurth._ Well, it's a little difficult to explain. But without being
technical I may say that it is--er--not exactly appendicitis and
yet--er--not exactly mumps. Anyhow, it's always very fatal on the stage.
_Barbara._ Two years! John, I'm not quite clear whether I'm _your_
relation or Diana's, or, in fact, what I'm doing in the house at all,
but as an old friend of _somebody's_ may I give you a word of advice?
_Staffurth._ (_looking at his watch_). Certainly, but you must be quick.
I have to be back at the House in five seconds.
_Barbara._ Then, John, give Diana a good time for those two years. Ask
her to recite sometimes, tell her about Welsh Disestablishment, at all
costs keep her amused.
_Staffurth._ (_amazed_). My dear girl, do you realise I'm an Opposition
Member? The Government may spring a snap division on us at any moment.
(_Taking out his engagement book._) Still, let me see what I can do. On
July 15th, 1916---- Oh no, that will be too late. November 25th,
1915--how's that? We might have an afternoon at Kew then if the Whips
don't want me. (_Looking at his watch._) Well, I must be off. Don't let
Diana know she's ill.
[_Exit hastily._
_Enter_ Diana Staffurth.
_Diana._ I listened outside the door! Two years, and he won't even ask
me to recite to him! He doesn't love me.
_Barbara._ He does, he does! But he's one of those men who never show it
till the Last Act.
_Diana._ Well, I know somebody who doesn't mind showing it in the First
Act. (_Goes to telephone._) Is that you, Captain Furness? I've just
learnt a new little piece.... Yes, don't be long. [_She sits down to
play the piano till he comes._
CURTAIN.
II.
_Six months later._
Captain Furness's _rooms, 11.30 p.m._
_Enter_ Furness _and_ Diana.
_Furness._ There, dear, now we can have a nice little supper together.
You do love me, don't you?
_Diana._ I suppose so. I love talking to you on the telephone, anyway. I
can't think what we should have done in this play without the telephone.
_Furness._ And you will come away with me to-morrow?
_Diana._ Yes. (_To the audience_) Oh, I've only got eighteen months----
(_To_ Furness) Excuse me, Philip, this is a soliloquy; would you mind
not listening for a moment? (_He turns away and prepares the supper._)
Oh, I've only got eighteen months more, and I want to _live_! I want to
talk on the telephone to people, and keep on changing my clothes, and
recite--and--and--_Philip_! You _don't_ mean to say those are _marrons
glacés_ you've got there?
_Furness._ Rather. Don't you like 'em?
_Diana._ How dare you? You _know_ the doctors won't let me touch them.
_Furness._ My dear, you never told me what the doctors said to you. What
did they say?
_Diana._ Well, anyhow, they said, "No more _marrons glacés_."
_Furness._ Really, Diana, how could I know?
_Diana._ You ought to have guessed. You've insulted me and I'm going
home. And I shan't run away with you now. (_Picks up her cloak and goes
to the door._) Er--if I _should_ change my mind in the morning
I'll--er--telephone.
_Next morning._
_Furness_ (_at the telephone_). Yes--yes--no, Lorenzo--both ways. What?
Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought it was--is it you, Diana?... You _will_
come? Good.
_Enter_ John Staffurth.
_Staffurth._ Good morning. (_Looking at his watch._) I want a little
talk with you if you aren't busy,
_Furness._ Certainly. (_Handing box._) Won't you begin a cigarette?
_Staffurth_ (_taking out case_). Thanks, I'll begin one of my own.
(_Does so._) Now then. My sister-in-law--or cousin or--anyhow, my friend
Miss--or Mrs.--Cullen, Barbara Cullen, who--er--is still with us, told
me some days ago that you were about to elope with my wife. Is that so?
_Furness._ Yes.
_Staffurth._ Yes. I ought to have spoken to you about it before, but I
have been very busy lately at the House. The Government is bringing in
its Bill for the Abolition of Telephones on the Stage, and it is
necessary for the full strength of the Opposition to be there. As I said
in my speech, any such Bill would, to take a case, ruin Mr. TEMPLE
THURSTON'S new play at the Haymarket, and recent by-elections have shown
that the country was---- However, I need not bother you with that. The
point is that I have at last managed to get away to see you, and I want
to know what it is you propose to do.
_Furness._ I'm going to send in my papers and take your wife away with
me.
_Staffurth._ Ah! Then perhaps before you ruin your career I'd better
tell you what the doctors say about her, She is not----
_Furness_ (_impatiently_). My dear chap, I know. She told me last night.
But it's all right, I don't much care for them myself.
_Staffurth._----not likely to live for more than eighteen months.
_Furness._ My God!
_Staffurth._ That's what we all said several times when we heard it.
Well?
_Furness._ Well, I mean, this wants thinking about. I had no---- My
career--only eighteen months----
_Staffurth_ (_breaking out at last_). You beastly egotist! You think of
nothing but your rotten career. You cur, you hound, you dog! You----
_Furness_ (_annoyed_). Now I warn you, Staffurth, I may only be about
half your size, but I shall have to thrash you severely if you talk like
that.
_Staffurth._ You dog.
_Furness_ (_with dignity_). For the sake of your wife, go before I climb
up you and strike you. [_Exit_ Staffurth.
CURTAIN.
* * * * *
Illustration: A THREATENED STRIKE.
_John Staffurth_ .. Mr. C. AUBREY SMITH.
_CAPTAIN FURNESS_ .. MR. OWEN NARES.
* * * * *
III.
_The Drawing-room again._
_Barbara_ (_joyfully_). Diana, I've got some exciting news for you.
Guess!
_Diana._ You're going away?
_Barbara._ No!
_Diana._ Oh, well, after all you've only stayed with us six months.
Er--you've got a new dress?
_Barbara._ No.
_Diana._ No; that was a silly one. Er--John's got a half-holiday?
_Barbara._ No. Well, I must tell you! Diana, you're not going to die
after all! The doctors made a mistake!
[_Exit._
_Diana._ Not going to die? But then I don't want to run away with
Philip. (_Rushes to desk and seizes the telephone._) I must let him
know. (_With a shriek_) Help! the telephone's broken! Then I have
nothing to live for. (_She takes out poison from poison drawer._) I
shall count three before I drink. One--two---- Why doesn't John come?
One--two---- If he isn't quick he'll be too late. One----
_Enter_ John _quickly._
_John_ (_looking at his watch._) My darling, I have just time to forgive
you. Let us be happy together again.
_Diana._ But the telephone's broken!
_John_ (_embracing her tenderly_). My darling, I've sent for a man to
mend it.
_Diana_ (_much moved_). My husband!
A. A. M.
* * * * *
"Miss Gluck only arrived in London from New York after a tour in
America earlier in the morning, and proceeded to Richmond to
rest."--_Times._
Which she must have wanted after her busy morning.
* * * * *
Illustration: _First Visitor from the country_ (_to second ditto_).
"AY, FRED, LONDON'S THE PLACE TO SEE THE SWELLS ENJOYING THEMSELVES THIS
TIME O' YEAR. NOTHING BUT LIFE AND GAIETY ON ALL SIDES."
* * * * *
THE BIG TROUT.
Pull up the rypecks! Push her home!
It's roses all the way!
Let garlands lie on Thames's foam--
A trout has died to-day!
Room for the victor--ho, there, room!--
Who calls the gods to scan
No halfling of the lilied gloom,
But that leviathan.
Anew (with jostling words unstayed)
We fight it, inch by inch,
From that first moment when he made
The line scream off the winch;
'Twas so we struck, we held him so
Lest weed had triumph wrecked;
Thus to his leap the point dropped low,
And thus a rush was checked.
O sought-for prize! Full many a day
The old black punt has swung
Beyond his stance, in twilight's grey,
Or when the dawn was young;
What hopes were ours, what heart-beats high
Have thrilled us, when he rolled
Up from the jade-green deep, a-nigh,
Dull-gleaming as of gold!
Glide on, ye stately swans, with grace--
Ye ne'er again shall see
His headlong dash among the dace
Beneath the willow-tree;
Ye little bleak, lift up your heads,
Ye gudgeon, skip at score,
The run between the lily beds
Shall know its lord no more!
Yet, while th' exalted pulses stir,
Regret takes hands with Pride,
Regret for that most splendid spur--
The Wish Ungratified;
With hammering heart that bulk I con,
That spread of tail and fin,
And sigh, like him of Macedon,
With no more worlds to win.
Pull up the rypecks, can't you, Jim!
It's roses all the way!
But ne'er another fish like him
For any other day!
Room for the victor--lock, there, room!--
Who calls the gods to scan
No halfling of the amber gloom,
But that leviathan.
* * * * *
Commercial Candour.
"Avoid Income-Tax and Death Duties by investing in selected
Canadian Securities."
_Advt. in "Times Financial Supplement."_
* * * * *
Motto for golfer who has foozled his approach:--
"I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angerly."
_King John_, iv., 1.
* * * * *
A LEGAL DOCUMENT.
"There is," I said, "a guilty look about you. You are hanging round. At
this time of the morning you have usually retreated to your fastnesses.
Why has not the telephone claimed you? There is something on your mind."
"No," said the lady of the house airily; "I have a vacant mind."
"Where, then," I said, "is your loud laugh? I have not heard you shout
'Ha-ha,' or anything remotely resembling 'Ha-ha.' Something is weighing
upon you."
"Not at all."
"Yes at all," I said decisively. "You have something to confess."
"Confess!" she said scornfully. "What nonsense is this about confession?
We are not early-Victorians."
"Yes, we are. I insist upon it. I shall be busy with my writing. You
will come and kneel unperceived at my feet with an imploring look upon
your tear-stained face. I shall give a sudden start----"
"And," she went on enthusiastically, "I shall stretch out my hands to
you, and you will raise me tenderly from the floor, and I shall then
explain----"
"That appearances were against you, but that Eugene is really your
brother by a first marriage----"
"And I shall then call for the smelling salts and swoon like this"--she
collapsed in an inanimate heap on the sofa--"and you will rise to your
full height----"
"Yes," I said, "I shall forgive you freely."
"No," she said, "you will blame yourself for not having appreciated my
angelic nature, for having treated me as a mere toy, for having----"
"Yes," I said," for having married you at all. But I shall forgive you
all the same, and I shall present you with the locket containing my
grandmother's miniature. Come on; let us start at once. I forgive you
from the bottom of my heart."
"All right," she said, "I accept your forgiveness. And now that we've
cleared the ground, you'll perhaps allow me----"
"Aha," I said, "then there _is_ something after all?"
"There always is _something_," she said, "so perhaps you'll allow me to
ask you a question?"
"A question?" I said. "Ask me fifty. I don't promise to answer them. I'm
only human, you know, but----"
"Surely," she said, "this humility is exaggerated."
"Anyhow," I said, "I'll do my best, so fire away."
"What," she said, "does one do with a legal document?"
"Isn't this rather sudden?" I said. "'What does one do with a legal
document?' My dear, one does a thousand things. One buys land, or sells
it--which is much better. One gets separated, or, rather, two get
separated; one gets a legacy, generally quite inadequate; one executes a
mortgage, but you mustn't ask me who is the mortgagor and who is the
mortgagee, for, upon my sacred word of honour, I never can remember
which is which or who does what. One leaves one's money to one's beloved
wife by a legal document, or one cuts her off with a shilling and one's
second best bed, like SHAKSPEARE, you know. Really, there's nothing you
can't do with a legal document."
"How on earth," she said admiringly, "did you get to know all these
things?"
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "One learns as one goes along. Men have to
know more or less about the law."
"Tell me," she said; "do you feel paralysed when you see a legal
document?"
"No, not now. They used to make me tremble, but I'm up to them now. I
understand their jargon."
"And frankly," she said, "I don't."
"But that doesn't matter," I said. "You've got a man----"
"Lucky me," she said.
"You've got a man to help you. That's what he's there for--to help you
with legal documents and to have his work interrupted and all his ideas
scattered. But, bless you, he doesn't mind. He knows his place."
"Well," she said, "it's this way. A very dear friend of mine has taken a
house at the seaside, and they've sent her a document."
"A letting agreement," I said.
"I suppose so," she said; "and they want her to sign it; and they say
something about a counterpart which somebody else is to sign."
"That," I said, "is the usual way."
"What I want to know is, ought she to sign her document?"
"Is it the sort of house she wants?"
"The very house," she said. "She's been over it. Lots of rooms; nice
garden with tennis-lawn; splendid view of the sea; drainage in perfect
order; weekly rent a mere nothing. There's to be an inventory."
"Of course there is. It's always done. Does the document embody
everything she requires?"
"Yes," she said, "everything; and they've thrown in two extra days for
nothing."
"In that case," I said, "her duty is clear. She must sign it."
"Do you advise that?"
"I do," I said, "most strongly."
"Thank you so much," she said, "I'll do it at once," and before I could
interfere she had sat down at the writing-table, produced a document,
unfolded it and signed it.
"It is," she explained, "the agreement for letting Sandstone House,
Sandy Bay. They made it out in my name."
"But this," I said, seizing the paper, "is madness. It is not worth the
paper on which it is written."
"I did nothing," she said, "without your advice."
"I shall repudiate it," I said, "as having been obtained by fraud."
"Right-o," she said; "we leave for Sandy Bay on July 28th."
R. C. L.
* * * * *
A SECOND-HAND SERENADE.
(_The modern youth, we are told, is content to hymn his Lady in the
amorous diction of other bards._)
It is not mine, Aminta, to commend you
According to your merits. Miles above
My puny lyre were this; I therefore send you,
For reference, "The Classic Gems of Love."
Would I approve your tresses? See p. 7,
L. 2, for what I frankly think of them;
Your lips? p. 8; your dimples, p. 11;
Your teeth and ears and ankles? _ibidem._
Your kisses? _vide_ JONSON, B., "To Celia;"
See "Annie Laurie" for the way I greet
Your neck and voice and eyes (the song has really a
Trustworthy picture also of your feet).
But nay! It ill behoves the ardent lover
To turn your gaze to any single spot,
In every line, from cover unto cover,
My passion finds an echo. Read the lot.
* * * * *
"SIR BAT-EARS."
Sir Bat-ears was a dog of birth
And bred in Aberdeen,
But he favoured not his noble kin
And so his lot is mean,
And Sir Bat-ears sits by the almshouses
On the stones with grass between.
Under the ancient archway
His pleasure is to wait
Between the two stone pineapples
That flank the weathered gate;
And old, old alms-persons go by,
All rusty, bent and black,
"Good day, good day, Sir Bat-ears!"
They say and stroke his back.
And old, old alms-persons go by,
Shaking and well-nigh dead,
"Good night, good night, Sir Bat-ears!"
They say and pat his head.
So courted and considered
He sits out hour by hour,
Benignant in the sunshine
And prudent in the shower.
(Nay, stoutly can he stand a storm
And stiffly breast the rain,
That rising when the cloud is gone
He leaves a circle of dry stone
Whereon to sit again.)
A dozen little door-steps
Under the arch are seen,
A dozen aged alms-persons
To keep them bright and clean;
Two wrinkled hands to scour each step
With a square of yellow stone--
But print-marks of Sir Bat-ears' paws
Bespeckle every one.
And little eats an alms-person,
But, though his board be bare,
There never lacks a bone of the best
To be Sir Bat-ears' share.
Mendicant muzzle and shrewd nose,
He quests from door to door;
Their grace they say--his shadow gray
Is instant on the floor,
Humblest of all the dogs there be,
A pensioner of the poor.
* * * * *
Illustration: _Harold (who has had the worst of an argument with his
father)._ "ALL RIGHT, THEN, YOU DON'T GET THOSE SIX STROKES I WAS GOING
TO GIVE YOU THIS AFTERNOON."
* * * * *
OUR PERSONAL COLUMN.
(_The New Indigence._)
ADMIRABLE CRICHTON, double Blue and double First at Oxford, weary of
gerund-grinding at a fashionable preparatory school for £500 a year,
charming conversationalist, expert auction-bridge player, is open to
accept partnership in well-established financial house on the basis of
four months' holiday a year and genuine week-ends--Friday till Tuesday.
* * * * *
NONCONFORMIST, with open mind on the subject of gambling, but modest
means and conscientious objection to hard work, is desirous of meeting
liberal-minded philanthropist who will advance him £750 to operate
infallible system at Monte Carlo.
* * * * *
VIGOROUS YOUNG MAN of titled family, who is sick to death of England, is
prepared to undertake any duties of a sporting kind for unmarried
heiress in America or elsewhere.
* * * * *
A LADY, whose income is only £4,000 a year, is greatly in need of a
month's yachting, but cannot afford a yacht of her own and dislikes the
mixed company to be met with on the ordinary advertised cruises. Will
some kind friend be so good as to lend her a yacht and endow it?
* * * * *
UNIVERSITY MAN, strong, healthy, in early forties, who has never done a
day's work in his life, but has suddenly fallen on comparative poverty,
wishes to communicate with some person of means willing to save him from
the pain and indignity of having to do without luxuries which have
become second nature to him.
* * * * *
=£2,000= WANTED, at once, for speculation by Undergraduate. A safe two per
cent. offered; advertiser cannot afford more. No professional
money-lenders need apply.
* * * * *
CHRISTIAN and Teetotaler, who has not yet been to Japan, would be quite
grateful to any wealthy travel-enthusiast who would make it possible for
him to see this fascinating country. Excellent references.
* * * * *
Illustration: "NOW THEN, COUSIN EMMA, LET ME GIVE YOU A BIT OFF THE
BREAST."
"YES, PLEASE, I SHOULD LIKE TO TASTE THAT, FOR IN MY YOUNG DAYS THEY
ALWAYS GAVE IT TO THE GROWN-UPS, AND NOW THEY KEEP IT FOR THE CHILDREN,
SO I'VE ALWAYS MISSED IT."
* * * * *
REVELATION REVISED.
[_A portion of "The Photodrama of Creation," a cinematograph enterprise
hailing from the United States, has recently been exhibited._]
Oh, would I were a preacher or a prophet
Of some wild pagan creed, I know not where--
One of whom people said, "This man is off it"
(But still I had a following sparse and rare),
That so, if cynics urged, "How hard to prove is
The faith ye cling to fondly and so fast!"
By favour of the men who work the "movies,"
I might expound the future and the past.
Hiring a lot of lads with mobile faces,
And all the world to tap for filméd scenes,
Would I not set backsliders in their places
And give my errant congregation beans?
Uprising in the darkened tabernacle,
A canvas sheet across the stage unfurled,
"To-night, dear brethren, we propose to tackle,"
I should commence, "the Making of the World.
"Doubts have arisen lately if the cosmos
Sprang as I stated; an egregious don
Has published pamphlets asking if it _was_ moss,
Or something else, that formed the primal _On._
"Well, to confute at once this creeping scandal,
You shall behold the facts before your eyes,
(If Mr. Potts will kindly turn that handle--
Thank you) _and note, the camera never lies_."
Yes, I would teach them; and if any scoffers
Still weltered in the quagmire of their sin,
If when I overhauled the monthly coffers
I found the business part a trifle thin,
Choosing a model for the worst offender
I should unroll a still more lively lot
Of films depicting him in pomp and splendour,
"Swift glories," I should say, "and doomed to rot;"
And then turn on "The Day of Retribution,"
Shades of avengers in the world below
Prodding my man with verve and resolution,
And broiling him on spits exceeding slow,
And flaying him, and squeezing him with pincers;
And whilst I pointed to his shrivelled shape
(These moving picture-men are rare convincers),
How I should thunder to the stalls agape!
"Look at yon sinner perishing _in toto_,
Take warning lest the same occurs to you;
Each fraction of each wriggle is a photo,
And therefore must be absolutely true."
EVOE.
* * * * *
"At the short fourteenth Vardon was bunkered, and took an
hour."--_Exeter Express._
He should have read our book, "How to get out of a Bunker in Forty-five
Minutes. By One who often Does."
* * * * *
"This move of the Powers, sending a rural gentleman from the Rhine
to do the big stick stunt in Albania with a lot of blood-thirsty
savages, is about as much use as putting a boy sprout in the room
of Sir John French."--_London Mail._
Personally we put an elderly artichoke in Sir JOHN'S room when he comes
to stay with us. This, of course, in addition to the usual tin of
biscuits.
* * * * *
Illustration: THE DOVE OF PEACE.
LORD CREWE. "I DON'T SAY HE'S A PERFECT BIRD, MY LORDS, BUT HE'S THE
BEST WE COULD MANAGE, AND A LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT MIGHT DO WONDERS FOR
HIM."
* * * * *
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
(EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.)
_House of Commons, Monday, June 15._--In the mid seventies, when dear
JOHNNY TOOLE was at height of well-earned fame, he for a while played
three several parts on the same night. Bold advertisement announced
"Toole in Three Pieces." Being just the kind of joke that has the widest
run over the low level of mediocrity, it filled the gallery and upper
boxes.
To-night it was recalled with fresh application. House privileged to see
PREMIER in Three Pieces. For some weeks he has appeared at Question time
in dual character as Prime Minister and Secretary of State for War.
To-night takes on duties of absent CHANCELLOR OF DUCHY OF LANCASTER. His
versatility as marvellous as his industry. In response to group of five
questions addressed to him "as representing the CHANCELLOR OF THE DUCHY
OF LANCASTER," bristles with minute information respecting number of
livings in gift of the Duchy in West Riding of Yorkshire, together with
amount of income of each benefice and nature of the security. Equally
master of intricate case of the calamity overshadowing the Pontefract
Cricket Club whose playing pitch has been damaged through subsidence
caused by underground workings.
* * * * *
Illustration: A GENEROUS RESTRAINT.
* * * * *
"I believe the Almighty has endowed us all with a certain amount of
brains; but we don't all use them." (Cheers).--_Mr. TICKLER in the
debate on the Plural Voting Bill._
Situation raised nice questions as to responsibility of the underground
leaseholder and the prospect of compensation from coal royalties.
PREMIER as fully informed on these subjects as later he proved himself
when by way of Supplementary Question AMERY, with pretty air of one
really in search of elementary information, inquired "In whose hands is
the government of Ireland at the present moment?" "In the hands of HIS
MAJESTY'S Ministers," said ASQUITH.
Illustration: "The one thing borne home to me was what a genius the
Irish people have for admiring each other."--_Mr. BIRRELL._
All very well for Duchy of Lancaster. Its affairs in strong capable
hands. But that does little to assuage grief of WORTHINGTON-EVANS. For
months before the day when MASTERMAN, greatly daring, exchanged safe
position of Secretary of Treasury for dizzy heights of Duchy of
Lancaster, WORTHINGTON-EVANS was daily accustomed to pose him with
questions as to working of Insurance Act. In MASTERMAN'S enforced
absence from House WEDGWOOD BENN placed in charge of Insurance Act
Department. Does a difficult business exceedingly well. Has earned
approval from both sides of House. But WORTHINGTON-EVANS is
inconsolable. His feelings find expression in couple of lines, learned
at his mother's knee, descriptive of anguish of blind boy parted from
his brother by ruthless hand of death:--
Oh, give my brother back to me;
I cannot play alone.
Visibly brightened up on eve of Ipswich election, which seemed to
promise return of the wanderer. As to-night he sits forlorn in corner
seat below Gangway to left of SPEAKER, gazing sadly at corner of
Treasury bench opposite (once amply filled by figure of former Secretary
of Treasury), STEPHEN GWYNNE, seated next to him, gently nudges BUTCHER,
and with softened memories of _Peggotty_ contemplating _Mrs. Gummidge_
in exceptionally low spirits, whispers, "He's thinking of the old 'un."
_Business done._--After brief unsparkling debate Plural Voters Bill read
a third time. Hostile amendment moved from Front Opposition Bench
negatived by 320 votes against 242. Bill passed final stage without
division.
_Tuesday._--Home Rule fills the bill in both Houses. The Lords, back
from brief holiday, protest against delay in introducing Amending Bill.
In vigorous speech LANSDOWNE insists on early day being named. CREWE,
wringing his hands over unreasonable ways of some people, promises
Tuesday next. Adds that, if upon consideration of proposed amendments
noble lords should require longer interval before Second Reading of
parent measure than is provided by original fixture for 30th June, there
will be no objection to postponement.
* * * * *
Illustration: "I don't know whether the hon. Member regards me as a
particularly frivolous person."
_Lord ROBERT CECIL._
* * * * *
In the Commons ROBERT CECIL, interposing in ordered business of Supply,
moves adjournment with view of calling attention to "growing danger
created in Ireland by existence of volunteer forces and failure of
Government to deal with situation." It is plurality of situation that
disturbs philosophical mind. As long as there was but one volunteer
force, its locality confined to Ulster, its purpose to defeat Home Rule
Bill, its commander-in-chief CARSON, it was well. Nay more, it was
patriotic. But when Ulster's challenge, uttered by one hundred thousand
armed men, is answered by the South and West of Ireland with creation of
an army exceeding that number, whole aspect is altered. Now, as in the
time when "Measure for Measure" was written--
That in the captain's but a choleric word
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy,
Opposition, to a man, stand up to support LORD BOB'S demand that matter
shall be discussed as one of urgent public importance.
In course of animated speech LORD BOB delighted House by equalling, if
not going one better than, the late Lord CROSS'S historic _jeu
d'esprit_.
"I hear an hon. member smile," said GRAND CROSS on a memorable occasion.
"I wish," said LORD BOB to-night, sternly regarding hilarious
Ministerialists, "those laughs could be photographed and shown
throughout the country."
Suggestion will doubtless not be lost on enterprising purveyors of
cinematograph shows.
There was another opportunity for the snap-shotter when, LORD BOB
lamenting the "ingrained frivolity of the Radicals in this grave
crisis," ARTHUR MARKHAM interposed with Supplementary Question.
"What about Satan rebuking sin?" he asked.
Turning upon Member for Mansfield more in sorrow than in anger, LORD BOB
remarked: "I don't know whether the hon. Member regards me as a
particularly frivolous person." General and generous cheering approved
this implied disclaimer, and LORD BOB returned to consideration of "the
characteristic vice of the Radical Government--fear of losing their
places."
Tendency to introduce personal observations cropped up from time to time
through debate, which occupied greater part of sitting. CARSON having
genially alluded to main body of Ministerialists as "lunatics," NEIL
PRIMROSE, turning upon the WISTFUL WINSTON, who hadn't been saying
anything, denounced him as "a human palimpsest."
Perhaps most touching case was that of BYLES of Bradford. Having long
remained silent under undeserved contumely, he suddenly rose at
half-past ten and irrelevantly remarked, "I cannot understand how the
myth has grown up in this House that I am a blood-thirsty ruffian. Why,
Mr. SPEAKER, I would not kill a fly."
In view of proved inconvenience, not to say danger, of unrestrained
plague of flies, this protestation was received with mixed feelings.
_Business done._--On division motion for adjournment of House negatived
by majority of 65. After this, the House, nothing if not logical,
forthwith adjourned.
* * * * *
Illustration: POURING COLD WATER ON THE TROUBLED OIL.