PUNCH Vol. CXLVI. JANUARY-JUNE, 1914. LONDON: PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1914. Bradbury, Agnew & Co.. Ld., Printers, London and Tonbridge. PUNCH'S ALMANACK FOR 1911. by far the. most fluid and reliable inks in the world. 9 Punch's Almanack for 1914. Januarg it i 411 1S'2', M 5 12 To 0 13 20'27 W T.l i' 7|14 81.0 2l|28 •1-1 29 F •2 it Iti 23 Mil 3 3 10 17 •24:31 d&arcb 9 1 9 8 '.1 15 1(> •2'2 20 •23 30 Tn 3 10 17 2431 w 4 11 is '25 .. TFI 5 1-2 l!> '20 .. F (! 13 20 •_>7 S 7 14 -1 -'S ... ffebruarj? M To W Tn F S 1 3 4 5 li S 9 10 11 12 13 14 IS 11 17 IS ii; •21 22!... 23 ". 21) . 27 28 " Spril To w TH F S 1 2 3 4 0 7 8 9 10 11 ,2 13 14 15 Hi 17 IS 1!) -2f. 20 27 21 28 22 29 •23 30 24 ... 25... \\v \ \ 1 5ulg auflttet September ft M 5 ti 12 13 19 V'O 20 'f! ft M 2 3 If 1623 SO 172131 *, 6 1 13 14 20 21 • >7 28 To 14 •21 28 To 4 11 1825 To 1 S 15 22 2l> W 1 8 15 .,., ?!> w 5 12 H 20 W 2 t 16 23 to Th ?, 9 1C •23 30 TH li 13 2027 _ Ta 3 10 17 24 P 3 10 17 •>4 31 F 7 14 21 28 F 4 11 18 >r. B 4 11 IS 25 » 1 S 15 10 -"•' s g 12 19 20... October movembec December 'f 4 11 1" IK 10 25 "0 M 1 2 S 9 1522 1023 30 5 0 7 13 14 20 21 27 28 Tu ft 13 ?0 •>7 To 3 10 17 24 To i 8 15 22 W 11 21 W 4 11 1825 W 2 'i Hi 2", M TH 1 8 15 22 •>!> TH 5 12 19 215 Tu 3 10 17 24 31 P f « Hi •'3 30 F B 13 20 2V F 4 11 IS 24 S 3 10 17 2431 S 7 14 21 28 ' S 1 12 19 20 Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE WAR IN THE AIR. n/fcrn (ire oist/'i'd/ion balloon}. " I SAY, ABS YOU THEKE? I THINK YOU'D BETTEE GET ME DOWN, I'M HOT DOBS' A BIT OP GOOD, AN' THEY 'RE SIMPLY BUININ' THE BALLY BALLOON! " Native of Sierra Leone. " TLLO, JACK; ANY NEWS FROM 'OME?" A.B. "'OME? WOT D' YOU KNOW ABOUT 'OME? YOUR 'OME 's UP THAT BLOOMIN' PALM TREE!" Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE. LION-TAMER'S WIFE HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. Punch's Almanack for 1914. M-'%/ V 1< ilt Injured One (continuing long tale of woe). "AND THE BURGLARS HAD RANSACKED EYEBS DBAWEB IN ur DBESSING-TABLE AND ATTEUE'D- EVERYTHING IN A MOST ABOMINABLE LITTER ALL OVEll THR FMOR ! " SCATTERED- EVEr.VTHING IN A MOST ABOMINABLE LITTER ALL OVEH THE FLOOR 1 ' Bored Listener. "YES, UNTIDY CREATURES; NO WONDER THEY 'nr. UNPOPULAR." TTV IN A RASH MOMENT HANS BLUTHSTKIN IS REQUESTED TO PLAY HE IMPROVISES, PALLS IN -LOVE WITH HIS THEME AND FORGETS TO THAT NO ONE DARES IO INTERRUPT HIM. Punch's Almanack for 1914. A REVISED VERSION. 'Jantijcr (at rehearsal). "Now THEN, 'ON HEARING THE NEWS THE QUEEN FALLS FAINTING IN THE ARMS OF A SOLDIER.'" 1 ;1A &T ^ $ "TAKE A BEST AND LET'S HAVE A DIFFERENT SOLDIER." fZ^, The Autlwr. " I 'VE GOT IT! " c J ^> 'ON HEARING THE NEWS THE QUEEN FALLS FAINTING IN THE ARMS OF THE SOLDIERS [PH7B.4Z,] . ' " Punch's Almanack for 1914. MINCE MEAT. (By our Charivarieiy Artiste.) THE choice of a Christmas present is ing a " Madonna by RAPHAEL." " A copy, I presume," ho said, "of the fam- ous picture in the National Gallery ? " 'Well, to tell tho truth," whispered the always a matter of some difuculty. dealer, "and between you and I, I'm The thoughtless youth who sent a lady not so sure that the one in the National acquaintance a little volume recently is- sued, entitled, " How to be Beautiful," baa lost a friend. Tcmporamutantur. Not only is headway being made by the proposal that the time of our summer holidays shall be changed, br.t it is now suggested that Christmas shall bo held in August instead of in Decem- ber. It is felt that it would 1 c more satis- factory if Christmas Cards with pictures of snow and ic,' ar- rived on a .sweltering summer day than at a lime when one is trying to keep warm. A correspondent who writes from Ilamvell mentions that he is at work on an article on the history of Christmas Cards. He lias made a careful search but can find no mention of them in literature of tho n.c. period, and would be grate- ful if anyone could help him in this respect. * •',• It occurred in a little third-rate curi- osity shop in a little third-rate street. A prospective pur- chaser was examin- Gallery is the original, and that 's why 1 can't take less than ten shillings I " i * * We are asked to say why artificial ey.es are made of glass. The answer is, so that you can see through them. T FELLTIV LIKE YOU BEGGING." Ci '/ ulent Tramp. "ME STOUTNESS 'AS BKF.-< MK DOWNFALL, HDY. I USED TO PLAY TIIK BIG IMIU.M, BIT I LOST ME JOB. Yi:il SEK I COULDN'T 'iT IT IN THE MIDIM.K." The gentle art of making conversa-' tion. Tho young Albert was told to go and talk to another1 small bo 3' whose mother had brought him to tea with her. " What's your name ? " asked A1-. bcrt. "Wilfrid," came the answer. "How old'.'" " Five and a half." A pause — Land then, "A bach- elor, I prelim f? -!- '•','• "Well, Kir," said the wig-maker, " I will only say this about the quality of our goods, that a customer of ours went the other day !o a barber's to be shaved, and the operator, misunder- standing him, began to cut his hair ! " The toast of the Guest of tho Even- ing— a pale, nervous young man with long hair — had been drunk, and " For he 's a jolly good fellow ! " was being sung, but in a half- hearted manlier. At which up jumped the resourcefulchainnn.il and, raising his hand, " Try this," ho said: " ' For he's a /<(/>,'?/ good fellow ! ' " It went much better then. AN ANTIDOTE FOE CHRISTMAS. IF Boxing Day finds you dyspeptic and worn And a little hit peevish perhaps; If Christmas has left you fail- reason to mourn Some sad ^astronomical lapse ; Come out acioss country — the going is good — And your festal-board sin you may shrive, For the beagles are meeting at Waddincton Wood At 12.45. There 's dew on the meadow, there 's scent with a sting, There 's wire (don't forget) in the fence, There 's sport with the " jelly dogs " fit for a king, Though a " cap " is your only expense ; There 's a hare in the roots, there 's a holloa, a view, And the pack like a torrent is running, - And there 'Jl always be glimpses of "hound work" for you , . If you like to run cunning. If the puddingy plough tries your patience and pluck You can make up a lot down the hill, And, helped by a check and a "circle," with luck You can shout your " Whoo-whoop " at the kill ; Though hot and dishevelled and palpably blown, And mud-spattered up to your middle, A Boxing Day run with the beagles, you '11 own, Makes you fit as a fiddle. Punch's Almanack for 1914. A FEW PROMISED STRIKES FOR THE NEW YEAR. IIOVSF.HOLDEB GREETING A GROUP OF PICKETS DURING THE STRIKE OF BATE-COLLECTORS. BUTCHERS' ASSISTANTS ON STRIKE MOUNTING GUARD OVEH A FINK UUl.I.OCK. NSSWSPAPEB FRornrETOns MEET THE DELEGATES OF THE NEWSBOYS' UNION. XAr, BOXF.B SKCONDINO HIMSELF HECAUSH ALL THE SECONDS HAVE STRUCK. POLICEMEN ON STRIKE WATCHING BURGLARS JtKMOVING A SAFE. CLEBGY ON STRIKE PREVENTING A BLACKLEG TAKING A SERVICE. Punch's Almanack for 1914. DANCING NOTES. TEN YEARS AGO. TO-DAY. Punch's Almanack for 1914. DANCING NOTES. TEN YEARS AGO— 11.30 p.m. . JIf. '-WELL, I surrosK IF WE 'BE GOING TO THE DUMPSHIHES' DANCE WE 'D BETTER BE STARTING. " She. "No HURRY. No USE GETTIN' THERE BEFORE TWELVE; THEY WON'T BE HAVIN' BUFFER BEFORE THEN. TO-DAY— 4.10 p.m. Guests. "I SAY, WE 'RE A BIT LATE, I 'M AFRAID. THE MOTOR BROKE DOWN, OR WE'D HAVE BEEN HEBE ON THE DOT." Hostess. "BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. I DESSAY YOU'LL FIND SOME PARTNERS; IF NOT YOU'LL HAVE TO DANCE WITH EACH OTHER. GLAD TJ HAVE SEEN YOU — TA-TA." Punch's Almanack for 1914. UNKNOWN LONDON. EXPULSION OF A MEMBEB FBOM A FASHIOXABLH WEST-HTD CLUB. KAMMER5MITH EMMiiMl WALHAM COXDL'CTOKS OF L'SDEEGEOUXD E.ULWAYS LEAENINO THE MISPBOXCSCIATIOS OF THE HAMES OF STATION'S. BRITISH MUSEUM OFFICIALS REFUSING TO ACCEPT A COLLECTION. Punch's Almanack for 1914. UNKNOWN LONDON. I5ACK ENTBAJfCi; TO A LABGE EMPORIUM. SHOP ASSISTANTS SUFFEB A EEACTIOX FROM TUEIR CUSTOMAHY MGNII1C. Tin: CATACOMBS AT THE LAW COURTS. WITIIDIIAWINQ A JUROB. S WAITING TO IN'TKRVIEW \VAIt OFI'ICK AUT1IOHITI KS. Punch's AlmanacR for 1914. THE LITTLE SITTER. [Reflections of a sportsman who is given a, day o.'T for golf in the midst of ;: ^ cod shoots.] As, for example. . . Topped the thing ! Tm.fut! Ye~. force of habit ; must have swung loo ijuick ; ?'.Iistcok its whilene-.s for a <•< p.ey's scut And shot a bit ahead — a useful trick With targets on the run, hut not with t! •> That keep a linn repose. So to 't again. . . Ah! hit the silly ground ! I took my eve off, did I? Then I erred By sporting instinct; I have never found Much good was done by dwelling on a bird. Of course, a ball is different ; as you say, It wouldn't move away. Now for another. . . That 's a fairish knock, Full in the tail-piece. Mark him, mark him down! A runnel' — in the gorso there. Where 's old Hock '' 1 hate this dog's work. . . Bang goes half-a-crown ! 1 might have laid a score of pheasants Hat For less expense than that. A TiircE to blood' To-day with careless breast The jocund cock shall laugh as though 'twere Juri The partridge gives his jumpy nerves a rest; The pigeon wheel above his woods immune ; No feathered thing shall curse, in act to die, My fatal gift of eye. A truce to blood! To-day no squatting hare On my account shall prick an anxious ear ; No rabbit, issuing from his earthy lair, Review the scene to note if I am near : No beater, as he hears my weapon's blast, Regret his godless past. All these, I say, shall have this one day off. Yet not for their convenience alone I take this little interlude of golf — The game has pleasant features all its own ; Less sudden in its joys, it suits, I find, My tranquil cast of mind. Birds are so restive — always prone to flight. Compare with them this sedentary ball That waits upon my pleasure, sitting tight, And not concerned about itself at all ; Making it optional for me to strike Just when, and where, 1 like. 0 [After losinij his tamper and three more balls, the speaker resumes : Frankly, your golf is not a sportsman's game; It hurts my liner British sense to hit A stationary mark, too small and tamo To stand a chance against my strength and wit ; I do not caro to strike at little tilings With neither legs nor wings. .Match mo with foes more mobile, more my si/.e — The raging hare, the rabbit on the prowl, The partridge swooping under windy skies, The savage duck and other desperate fowl — That lend a larger scope for manly skill Than yonder paltry pill. O. S. Punch's Almanack for 1914. Family Ghost. "NOTHING — NOTHING WILL CLEANSE THESE HANDS OF THEIR AWFUL STAIN." Mr. Ponlis (the soap millionaire — a guest). " LOOK 'ERE, NAME YEII FIGGEB FOR ALWAYS ADDIN', 'EXCEPT PONKS'S SOAP- FIVEPENC:; PER TABLET; BOX O1 THREF., ONE SHILLIN'.'" Stranger. "I DREAMT LAST NIGHT I WAS srrnNa AT A TABLE COVERED wiv ROAST TURKEY-, SAUSAGES, PIES, A LOVELY PLUM PUDDING AND FOAMING BEER IN JUGS. I WAS JUST GOING TO HAVE THE MEAL OF MY LIFK WHEN I WOKE I " Policeman. "WELL, WOT ARE YOU TELLIN' MB ABAHT IT FOR?" Stranger. "I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED THE SORT O1 BLOKE WOT *UD SYMPATHISE!" Punch's Almanack for 1914. AN INTELLIGENT NUMBER-FLATE. -r. LUCK AT THE RACES. Gipsy. "LET ME TELL YKR FUTURE, PHETTY CKSTLEUAS." Pretty Gentleman. "No! CLEAB OUT OP IT. I rox'i WAST TO KNOW .MY (tipsy. "TlIEN LET ME T3LL YER 'iDEOUS PAST I " Punch's Almanack for 1914. •Knry( finding broad hints of no avail}. " LOCK 'ERE, 'EBBEBT, TO PUT IT BLUNTLY, YOU'RE A PBOPOS\ Two's COMPANY AXD •JIIRKK 'S NONE." Tender-hearted Lady. "I KEVF.B TAKE CAVIARE. I THINK IT so CRUKL TO THE roou ODOSK. Punch's Almanack for 1914. ' T\e Hon. JOHN COLLIER obliges w?iti\ fev? PROBLEM Sj Sir OLIVER LODGE, Ae Wizard of "TH.e CAVE cater for the Sportsman. rimmng Competttfon. MR. PUNCH'S CHRISTMAS BAZAAR AND FANCY FAIR. SOME SIDE SHOWS. J of the. Shamrock \neeff~tnayoe obtained framwe Punch's Almanack for 1914. f ?ir CLEMENT SHORTER gyrates gratefully uf on the SpKere. Sir EDWARD GREY, Prestidigitatfeur, produces doves from unlikely places. 'Patriotic. <Ballaa Vocalist!. in affendance) & MfHALL CAlAlE executi each a tnodesf solo on his favourite instfumenf. MR. PUNCH'S CHRISTMAS BAZAAR AND FANCY FAIR. THE CAFE CHANT ANT AND VARIETY ENTERTAINMENT. Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE HALO THEY GIVE THEMSELVES. [NOTE. — Mr. Punch i.i in the extraordinarily fortunate position of being able to present to his readers a story specially written for him by Mrs. I'YoKESc'i-: BAHCT.AY (author of Tit" /fm/.vu Halo and other imperishable works) and Mr. HAT.!, CAINE .•:uitlior of Tin- Woman '/<ir<vs/ Me and kindred masterpieces) in collaboration. The meeting of the two famous writers took [-lace at liomrrie Street, cadi of them expressing considerable surprise at hearing that the other wrote books also. After they had compared sales and methods of advertisement, they arranged that their new story for Mr. 1'itnch should b:' written in alternate spasms. l!y an unfortunate error of judgment, however, the illustrations were left to an artist who had never read a word of either author in his life, and who insisted that it w is much too late- to begin now. .Luckily the half-dozen drawings he sent in were such that they could easily b ' made to fit the texi ; and in the result Mr. 1'unch feels that the story is at l\ist ai well illustrated as the average story in the magazines.] I ho revolved through the air he wondere;! 1 how old sho really was, and what, if What did your Ann! Louis when her anklo was sprained'.'" she CHAPTKR I.— SUNDAY MORNING. (4/iza BABCLAI begins.) anyj wag hei. income. y01. since tllo a-ked with a rueful smile. IT was a beautiful Sunday morning, j death of tho Little White Lady he had | In an instant the merry banter faded All nature browsed in solemn Sabbath j formed a liabit of marrying elderly from the "Virile Benedict's brown i stillness. The Little Grey Woman of women for their money, and his fifth and was replaced by the commanding the Night-Light was hurrying, look of one -who has I u somewhat late, to church. iJ^fe^T ' '""' «fe^€il brilliant degree in all his medical Down tho white ribbon of /SrCJOyii ' ""^sP^w examinations. road tho Virib Benedict of the JJ/W ^ " ^/^-W "Allow me," be said brusquely; Libraries came bicycling, tread- Jf^^mWf\ \ "^^f'/V'V^*^ " I am a doctor." Hebsntdown ling easily from the ankles. Ho HL^BPBPQ \ (i^ ^•yi and listened to her ankle. on tho handle-bars, the other in ^of wKk \ »-''*'i^Ki Cameron's quick ear long to cricketing trousers. His foot- B8| I \ ('^miliK$ki. His manner became very gentle balling tie, with his college arms x^J^WM \ ^ ""^^^NK ancl llis voic9 very low ; and, embroidered upon it, flapped £y^0 '|Kff MfiHV > /ffcy Xjjl though he continued to exhale gently in the breeze. To look oHl V-X <**^ ^y youth, he did it less ostenta- at him you would have said that ^^_^^____|fl>^^^Jj ^^^^^^^^J&lffi— tiously than before. he was probably a crack polo- HM5g "I must carry you home " player on his way to defend the ^^^S he said nickin"- her un in bis „! " L. 11 "As A CHILD SHE HAD BEEN FOND OF HOIlSEj.' championship against all comers, strong young arms; " you can- or the captain of a county golf eleven. 'or sixth wife had perished of old age not go to church to-day." As he rode, his soul overflowing with I only a few months ago. ft the joy of life, he hummed the Collect for the Day. It was exactly opposite the church that he ran into the Little Grey Woman of the Night- Light. He had just flashed past a labourer in the road — known to his cronies as tho Flap- eared Denizen of tho Turnip - patch — a labourer who in ih:; dear dead days of VICTORIA would have touched his hat humhh , but who now, in this horrible age of attempts to level all cl-iss distinc- tions, actually wont 0:1 lighting his pipe ! Ala-;, that tho respectful deference of the poor toward the rich is now a thing of the past I So thought the Virile Bene- dict of theLibraries,and in thinking this he had [HALL CAINE (waking up). Who, pray, is the Little White Lady'? J/its. BARCLAY, llis first wife. Slic. comes in my book, " The Broken Halo," now in its two hundredth edition HALL CAIXK (annoyed). Tut .'] "THEY WElli: HAVING TEA IS THE GARDEN.' let his mind wander from tho important [ " Jove," he said cheerily, as he picked business of guiding his bicycle! In . himself and her and his bicycle up, another moment he had run into the \ " that was a nasty spill. As my Aun Little Grey Woman of the Night-Light ! J Louisa used to say to the curate whe Aunt She had seen him coining and had he upset the milk-jug into her lap, ' No given a warning cry ; for, though as a milk, thank you.'" His brown eyes child she had been fond of horses, hi- " cycles had always fillF'J her with alarm. It was too late. Tho next moment he shot over his handle-bars; but even as danced with amusement as be related this reminiscence of his boyhood. To the Little Grey Woman ho seemed to exhale youth from every pore. " But the curate is preaching ! " Dr. Dick murmured something pro- fane under his breath about curates. He had, alas! these moments of irrev- erence ; as, for instance, on one occasion when he had spoken of Mr. Louis N. PAHKKH'H noble picture - play quite shortly as "Jos. Bios." "I will carry you home," he said gentlv. " Tell me whereyou live, Little Grey Wbi nan.'1 She smiled up at him bravely. " The" Manor HOIIEC," she said. His voice became yet more gentle. " And now tell me your income," ho whispered ; and his whole being trembled with emotion as ho waited for her reply. \Miis. BARCLAY. There ! That's the end of the chapter. Now it 's your turn. HALL CAIXE (waking up). 7 don't know if I told you that in mi/ last great work of tin imagination, -in which I collaborated with the Bishop of London, I wrote throughout in tlio first person. Nearly a million copies irere sold, thus showiiuj that the heart of the ijrcat public approved of my method of telling mi/ star i/ through the mouth of a young Punch's Almanack for 1914. and innocent girl, exposed to great felicitation. 1 should wish, therefore, to repeat that method in tliis story, if you could so arrange it. Jt/R.s. B A HIT. AY. But that's easy. The Little <!re:/ \\'oiiuiu shall tell Dr. Dick the story of her Jirst marriage. 1 did that in iiuj last Look, " The Broken Halo." nuif in itstwolumdredth edition. HALL (' A i \ E (an- noyed). Tut.'] CiiArTKH IF. — I ' ••. . THE CEDAR. (Man. li.tncLAY con- tin ucs.) They were having tea in tho garden — tho Little Grey Woman and Dr. Dick. More than six months had elapsed since the accident out- side the church, amt-Dr. Dick still remained on _ at tho Manor House in 'charge of his patient, wishing to be bandy in case tho old j sprain came on again suddenly. She was eighty-two and had, twelve thou- sand a year. On the lawn a thrusli was singing. " How fresh and green the world is to-day," sighed Dr. Dick, leaning hack and exhaling youth. " As the curate used to say to rnyAunt Louisa, 'A delight- ful shower after the rain.' " lie laughed merrily and threw a crumb at tho thrush with tho perfect aim of a good cricketer throwing the ball at the wickets. •• My dear boy," said the Little Grey Woman, " the world is always fresh and green to youth liko yours. But to an old woman liko me — "Not old," said Dick, with an ardent glance; " only eighty - two. Mrs. Deauchamp, will you marry me '? " She looked at him with a sad but tender smib. " What would my friends say ? " she asked. "Bother your friends.'' " My dsar boy, you would be con- siderably surprised if you could glance through an approximata list of the friends I possess to-day. Do you know that if I marry you I shall bo required to make an explanation to several royal ladies — that is, if they graciously grant me the opportunity so to do." " But I want your mon — I mean I lore you," he pleaded, tho light of youth shining in his brown c\e-;. Tho Little Grey Woman looked at him tenderly. Their eye? mot. " Listen," she said. " 1 will toll you the story of my first marriage, and then if you wish you shall ask mo again." "TlIEIB EYES Ml'.'l." Dr. Dick helped himself to another slice of cake and leant back to listen. [Mas. BARCLAY. There you are. Xow you can do Chapter Three. HALL CAINII. Excellent. It is quite time that one got some emotion into this story. In" ThcWoman Thou (lai'cstMe," of which more than a million Mus. BARCLAY. Emotion, index! ! "I SHALL NEVER FOHJET THAT KVEN1XC." NIJ last book is already in its two hundredth edition. HALL CAIXK (annoyed). Tut .'] CHAPTER III. — MRS. BEAI'CHAMT'S STORY. (Ma. HALL CAINE takes up the laic.) I have always had a wonderful memory, and my earliest recollection is of hearing ' my father ask, on the day when I was I born, whether it was a boy or a girl. j When they told him " a girl," he let fall ' a rough expression which sent the blood coursing over my mother's pale cheeks like lobster-sauce coursing over a turbot. My father, John Boom-ier, was a great advertising agent, per- haps the greatest in the Island, though be always said that there was one man who could beat him. He wanted a son to succeed him in the business, and in the years to come he never forgave mo for being a girl. IIo would often glare at mo in silence for three-quarters of an hour, and then, letting fall t!ie sains rough ex- pression, throw a boot at mo and stride from the room. A bard,cmcl man, my father, and yet, in his fashion, he was fond of me. It was not until I was eighteen that Ii3 first spoke to me. To my dying day I shall never forget that evening ; nor ; his words, which bit themselves into my mind as a red-hot iron bites its way ; into cheese. " Nell," he said, for that was my name, thongb he had never used it before, " I 've arranged that you are to marry Lord Wui/el two months from to-day." At these terrible words the blood ebbed slowly from my oars and my bands grew hot. " I do not know him," I said in a stifled voice. " You will to-morrow,'' he laughed brutally, and with another rough word ho strode from the room. Lord Wurzel ! I ran upstairs to my room and flung myself face down- wards on the bed. In my agony 1 bit a largepiece out of tho pillow. The blood flowed forward and back- ward over mo in waves, and I burst every now and then into a passion of weeping. By-and-by I began to feel more serene. I decided that it was my duty to obey my father. My heart leapt within me at the thought of doing my duty, and to calm myself I put on ray I hat and wandered into the glen. It was 'very silent in the glen. There was no | sound but tho rustling of the leaves over- }bead, the popping of the insects under- j foot, the sneezing of tho cattle, the Punch's Almanack for 1914. whistling of the pigs, the coughing of •id-mice, the roaring of tho rabbits, anil the deep, organ-song of tho sea. But suddenly, above all these noises, ' 1 heard a voice which sent the blood ebbing and flowing in my heart and caused the back of my neck to quiver) with ecstasy. "Nell! "'it said. It was the voice of my old ! le, Andrew Spinnaker, who had played with me in our childhood's days, and whom I had not seen now for eight years. "Andrew!" I cried, as I turned round. " What are you doing here ? " " I am just off to discover the South Pole," he said. " My shipmates are waiting for me to command the expedition." I noticed then for tho lust time that ho was dressi d in a s >al-skin cap and a pair of sleeping bags. " Nell," he went on, "before I go tell me you love me." My heart fluttered like a captured bird ; my knees trembled like a drunken spider's; my throat was stifled like a stifled throat. A huge wave of some- thing or other surged over me and told me that the great mystery of the world had happened to me. 1 was in love. I was in love with Andrew Spinnaker. "Andrew," I cried, falling oil his startled chin, "I love you." • All the back of my neck thrilled with joy. But my joy was short- lived. No sooner had I be- come aware that 1 loved Andrew Spinnaker than my conscience told me 1 had no right to do so. I was going to marry Lord Wurzel, and ;j to love another than my husband was sin. 1 shook Andrew o!T my lips. " I love you," I said, " hut I cannot marry you. I am marrying Lord Wurzel." " That beast '? " cried Andrew, in the impetuous sailor fashion which so en- deared him to his shipmates. " When I come back 1 will thrash him i as I would thrash a vicious ape." " When will that be?" "In about two months," said my darling hoy. "This is going to be a very quick expedition." " Alas, that will be my wedding day," I said with a low sob like that of a buffalo yearning for its mate. " It will be too late." Andrew took me in his strong arms. I should not have let him, but I could not help it. " Listen," he said, " T will start back from the Polo a day before my ship- mates, and save you from that d-sli-d beast. And then I will marry you, Nell." There was a roaring in my ears like 1 1 WILL SAVE YOU.' " the roaring of the hath when the tap is left on ; many waters seemed to rush upon me ; my hat fell off, and then deep oblivion came over me and I swooned. To go through my emotions in detail during the next two months would be hut to barrow you needlessly. Suffice it to say that seventeen times I flung To-morrow, unless Andrew Spinnaker saved me, I should be Lady 'Wurzel. "A marconigram for you, miss, "said our faithful old gardener, William, entering tho drawing-room noiselessly by the chimney. " 1 brought it myself to be sure you got it." With trembling fingers I tore it open. How my heart leapt and tho hot colour flooded my neck and brow when I recognized" the dear schoolboy writing of my lie- loved Andrew ! I have the message still. It went like this: " Wireless— South Pole. Arrived safe. Found Pole. Weather charming. Blue sky. Not a breath of wind. Am wearing my thick socks. Sun never going down. Con- stellations revolving without dipping. Moo:i going side- ways. Am starting for England to-morrow. Arrive Victoria twelve o'clock, Wed- nesday.— ANUHMW." Back on Wednesday ! And to-morrow was Tuesday — my wedding day ! There was no hope. I felt like a shipwrecked voyager. For the thirty - fifth time since the beginning of the month deep oblivion came over me and I swooned. \ILiLij CAINS. I think yon miglit go on now. I have pul a little life into the story. It is perhaps not quite so ririd myself face downwards on my bed and ' as my last work, "The Woman Thou Gavcst Me," of which more than, a million copies- Mini. I) AHCL AY. In the tiro hundredth, edition of " The Broken Halo " 77,(7,;, CAINI.; (annoyed). Tut! CHAPTER IV.— THE END- (Mitn. n.tiK'LAY resumes.) At this point in The Little Grey Woman's story, handsome Dr. Dick put down bis third piece of cake and got up. There was a baffled look on his virile faco which none of his pre- vious wives bad ever seen there. For once Dr. Dick was nonplussed ! " Is there much more of your story ? " he asked. " Five hundred and nineteen pages," she said. • The Virile Benedict of the Libraries took up his bat. Never had he exhaled youth so violently, yet never had he looked such a man. He had made up his mind. She was rich ; but, after all, money was not everything. " Good-bye," he said. A. A. M. "I FELT LIKE A SHIPWRECKED VOYAGEK." bit a piece out of the pillow, on twenty-] nine occasions the blood ebbed slowly from my face, and my heart fluttered like a captured bird, while in a hundred- and-forty instances a wave of emotion surged slowly over my whole body, I leaving me trembling like an aspen leaf. ! Otherwise my health remained good. It was the night before the wedding. ''. The bad Lord Wurzel had juso left me with words of love upon his lying lips. Punch's Almanack for 1914. Mr. Hawtrey as Hamlet. Miss Marie Tempest as Lady Macbeth. Mr. Norman McKinnel as Romeo. Mr. Edmund Payne in The Only Way. Miss Gertie Millar as JUar^u'rite. The Widow Twankey. w.K- OUT OF THEIR GROOVES. OUR GREEN Eooir CORRESPONDENT PREDICTS THAT THE COMING DRAMATIC YEAH WILL BE FULL OP SURPRISES. SOME OF OUK POPULAR IHSTHIONS ARE THINKING OP EXTENDING THEin REPERTORIES ON UNUSUAL L1SES. Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE POSSIBILITIES OF TOWN. (TF/iy limit to a ffic u-ccks in the summer those, healthy amusements which are so great a source of joy at your favourite holiday resort'!} IF YO'J ARE SO FOXD OF MIXED BATHUiQ AT DKAUV1I.LE, WHY NOT DO IT III THE HOUND PflXD? IF YOU. BEVEL IN PICNICS BY THE OEYSIAIi WATEB3 Off LYM, WHAT '8 HIE MAITEB WITH TllAFALaiU SqUABI? Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE POSSIBILITIES OF TOWN. IP TOUB NAUTICAL INSTINCTS CANNOT EESIST THE WOOING OF THE WATES AT COWES, WHY NOT LISTE3 TO THIS CALL OF THE SEBrEMTINE ? IF DONKEYS MAKE THE CHAEJt OF MARGATE SANDS, WHY HOT BIDE 'EM TO THE ClTY ? Punch's Almanack for 1914. OUR CATALOGUE OF NOVEL PRACTICAL JOKES FOR FUNNY FELLOWS. 11! ::l\l'fXi> i'MUULLLt, WITH SPUING HANDLE. JUST THE THING FOB NARROW PAVEMENTS. AlJL YOU HAVE TO DO IS TO PRESS THIi KNUil. IT ADDS TO TUB FUN IP YOU LIIT THE 18 OLD GENTLEMAN'S UMBRELLA INTO THE AIK. i:, 5s., SUPERIOR DUALITY. CHEAPER STYLE, Wd. .'IliW DO THEY TIIIXK OF THEfiE FUXXY THIXdS'l! THE liinnvixii Doc. TRY THIS ONIO TO LIVEN UP A TEA- PARTY. YOU INTRODUCE YOUR HaSTF.SS'8 NOTICE TO YOUH TOY PUG, AND THEN NOVELTY LUNCHEON DAHKET, CAUSES SCBKECUES OP LAUGHTER. WlIEN THE BASKET IS OPENED IT SUDDENLY SHOOTS OUT AN ASSORTMENT OF MONSTER SNAKES, COON BABIES AND JAP SQUEAKERS. VERY POPULAR. SMALL SIZE, 2s. 6d. LABGE SIZE, SUFFICIENT FOR FOUR PERSONS, 3s. Gd AT THE BIGHT MOMENT YOU BLOW HIM OUT IMO A FULL- SIZED BULL-DOG. VERY LIFELIKE. Is. Gd. ; POST FREE, Is. Id. ABSOLUTELY THE BEST VALVE FOR MONEY EVER OFFKKED. THE ELASTIC STRAP FOB STRAV-HANGERS. ATTACH IT TO THE BAIL AND WATCH RESULTS. THE JOKE OF THE SEASON. HAVE ONE ; EVERYBODY WILL LIKE YOU. PRICE (xil. ; WORTH 15s. YOU MUST Punch's Almanack for 1914. "EAST IS EAST AND WEST IS WEST." v COLONEL AND MBS. CUVE-SMYTHE'S CHBISTILAS nj THE SAME AT HOME ON EETIRSMKNT. Punch's Almanack for 1914. WANTED, A CINEMA ACTOR: MUST BE VERSATILE. Able to portray stern relentless fathers ; stony-hearted sheriffs, also romantic lovers, and " crooks " who are not so bad as they are painted. JllUOB O*SAB. KJIA N'APfil.EOX. WEI.MNOTOX KA I.STA i- F. THK KINO wno NF.VKH SMILED AGAIN. Should have a mobile face and able to make up as any of the above characters. Must not mind the feel of rubber. Should be a good boxer, and a long-distance swimmer ; competent to suggest powerful emotion and pathetic tenderness, and capable of remaining indefinitely in awkward positions. Punch's Almanack for 1914. MR. PUNCH'S MOTOR TRAFFIC SOLUTIONS. Thi Run-under Cycle-car ; goes anywhere The Concertina Car. For use in tight places The "Lift-up " Side Car. The Expanding Cow-Pusher. Will shove off anything. Punch's Almanack for 1914. First Thruster (guiltily conscious of having rattier pressed on houitds). " Now WE 'RE GOIN' TO CATCH IT ; THAT 's THE IN', ISN'T IT?" Second Thruster (his host). "Ii's ALL BIGHT. WE'VE GOT TWO MASTERS. THAT'S THE o> COMIN . SUPPLIES THE MONEY; THE OTHER SUPPLIES THE LANGUAGE." MASTER ONE THAT Huntsman (of very slow harriers). "'OLD 'ABD, PLEASE! GIVE 'EM PLENTY OP TIME." Young Farmer. "BETTER 'URKY UP, CHARLES, OR THE 'ABE 'LL BE OVERLAPPIN' YOU." Punch's Almanack for 1914. Hodge (to porter who hasjust been supplied with an artificial leg) . " EH ! JoHNl I 'BAUD AS *OW YOU'D LOST YOUB'LKG?" John. "So I "AVE, MAN: YOU BE QUITE EIGHT." Hodge. "WELL, I BE MAIM GLAD TO SEE YOU AIN'T LOST YOUR FOOT AS WELL." Lady (to applicant for situation). "WELL, NOW you QUITE UNDERSTAND THAT YOUR DUTIES ARE SIMJLY TO WAIT ON ME?" Girl. "YES, M'M." Tlie Girl's Motlicr. " OH, I THINK SHE 'LL DO VERY WELL, MUM ; AND I 'M PLEASED TO THINK SHE 'I.L 'AVE A COMFORTABLE 'OSIE, FOB SHE 'S FAR FROM STRONG AND DO WANT SUCH A LOT O1 LOOKING AFTER." Punch's Almanack for 1914. Fred. "OH, MUMMY, DO PLEASE ASK CISSY AND PUSS TO STOP BEING A RAILWAY ACCIDENT. WINTRY FIRES. LADY, having been engaged since May-day (Pity that the Spring should ever stop!) Now the year's no longer in its heyday, Don't you think we'd better let it drop? In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly Turns to .love, as doubtless you 're awaru ; In the Spring wo wax exceeding sprightly, Due, no doubt, to something in the air. Then, as was both natural and proper, Wo two met and, scorning all delay, Yowi.d to wed, and neither cared a copper For the pregnant fact that it was May. Summer came and, warming with the weather, Karely was an ardour such as mine; You '11 recall that, take it altogether, For an English summer it was fine. Summer turned to Autumn, and September Opened to the world her golden feast; Quite a record month, as you'll remember, And my love, if anything, increased. Honestly, I thought it was a sure case ; Only, now the early Winter's come, Lads1, as in others', so in your case, I confess to getting rather numb. Do not deem me fickle, dear, and faithless; Though the readjustment seems to be Sudden — not to call it startling — natheleaa You can hardly put it down to ma. Love appears, for some unfathomed reason, Like a flow'r that ripens with the sun; And, like everything that has its season, "Withers when its little course is run. That's what I conceive to be the matter; And I write, believe me, with regret; For I own, with no desire to flatter, That you 're quite the nicest girl I 've met. Still, farewell, or (put it less severely) Au rcroir; I hope you'll keep the ring; Snows are brief,' and I, who loved you dearly Once, again may do so — in the Spring. Punch's Almanack for 1914. Constable. " FOUND 'in ON THE COMMON, MUM, A-DRILLIN' HOF AN HIMAOINABY HARMY!" Bystander. " WHY DON'T YOU SEXD TO MUDDIFOBD? THEY'VK GOT A BBAND-NEW FIBE ENGINE. Local Fireman. " NOT LIKELY! 'TAIN'T THEIR PIKE!" Punch's Almanack for 1914. THE THREATENED AGRICULTURAL MILLENNIUM. Departing Year. '• 'Do I SLEEP, DO 1 DREAM? . . . OB IS VIEIDNS ABOUT?' " JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. O °F*h€GLen?<i neoi Lano- seen. AMENDE DISHONORABLE. HEAVILY dragged the night ; the Year Was passing, and the clock's slow tick Boomed its sad message to my ear And made me pretty sick. 'You have been slack," I told myself, "and weak; You have done foolishly, from wilful choice; Sloth and procrastination — " Here my voice Broke in a squeak. And deep repentance welled in me As I mused darkly on my sin ; Yea, Conscience stung me, like a bee That gets her barb well in. 1 Next year," I swore, in this compunctious mood, "I will be energetic, virtuous, kind ; Unflinching I will face the awful grind Of being good." I paused, half troubled by a thought — Were my proposals too sublime? Vowed I more deeply than I ought? I glanced to see the time. It was 12.10 A.M. At once a thrill, A wave of manful resolution, sped Through all my being. "Yes," I bravely said, " Next year I will ! " VOL. CXLVI. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 7, 1914. A PLAY OF FEATURES. [Being Sir GEOBQE ALEXANDER'S production of Tile Attack at the St. James's.] SCENE — Alexandra Mental's house. ACT I. Daniel Marital My father is a won- derful man. Leader of the Social Party in tl)3 Chamber of Deputies, noted among his colleagues for his absolute integrity, supported by the millionaire newspaper proprietor, Frepeau, whose motives, between ourselves, are not altogether above — Oh, are you there, Father rt 1 didn't see you. 1 'm just off to play tennis. [Exit. Enter Eeneo do Bould. Rente. Mr. Me'rital, may I speak to you a moment? Georges Alexandra Merital (with characteristic suavity). Certainly. Kcnee. I love you. Will you marry me? Mcrital (surprised). Well, really— this is — I — you — we — er, he, she, they Frankly, you embarrass me. (Apologetically) This is my embarrassed face. Rente. But I thought you loved me. Don't you ? Mcrital. No. That is to say, yes. Or rather Hence (tearfully). I w-wish you could make it plainer whether you d-do love me and are pretending you don't, or you d-dou't love me and are pretending you do. It "s v-very unsettling for a young girl not to know. Sir GEORGES ALEXASDRE (surprised and a little hurt). Can't you tell from my face ? Miss MARTHA HEDMAN. This is my first appearance in England, Sir G ECHOES. Sir GEORGES. True. I was forgetting. Well, when you have been with us a little longer, you will know that this is my face when I adore anyone very much, hut, owing to an unfortunate episode in my past life, am forced to hide my love. lienee (alarmed). Your past wife isn't alive somewhere? Merital. Oh no, not that sort of thing at all. (Embracing her carefully.) I will marry you, Ben6e, but run along now because my friend Fripeau is corning, and be probably wants to talk business. [Exit Renee. Enter Frepeau. Fn'peau (excitedly). Me'rital, you are in danger. A scandalous libel is being circulated about you. Mental (calmly). Pooh ! Faugh ! Frepeau. It is said that thirty years ago (Alexandra's nose twitches), when you were in a solicitor's ofiice (Alexandra's jaw drops), you stole nmepence from the stamp drawer (Alexandra's eyeballs roll). Of course it is a lie? Mcrital (with a great effort obtaining command of his features again). Of coarse. CURTAIN. ACT II. Daniel Merital. Father's face has bean very odd these last few weeks. Sometimes I wonder whether he didn't steal the money after all. But we shall know after the libel action this after- noon. It starts at two. Oh, are you there, Father? I'm just going to see a man about something. [Exit. Enter Frepeau. Mcrital. All, Frepeau, the man I wanted to see. (Plaintively) Frepeau, when you called on me in the First Act, don't you think you might have given some indication by the play of your features that it was you who ori- ginated this libel against me, and that you are my deadly enemy ? The merest twitch of the ears would have been enough. HOLMAX CLARK. I wanted it to be a surprise for the audience. Sir GEORGES. Yes, but is that art? HOLMAX CLARK. Besides, in real life Sir GEORGES (amazed). Eeal life? Good Heavens, HOLMAN, is this your first appearance in England too ? HOLMAN CLARK (annoyed). Let's get on with the play. Sir GEORGES. Certainly. Wait a moment till I 've got my " strong- man-with- his -back -to -the -wall " ex- pression. (Arranging his face.) How's that? HOLJ.IAN CLARK. Begin again . . . That 's better. Merital (sternly). Now then, Frepeau! I must ask you to give instructions that the libel is withdrawn in court this afternoon. If not Frepeau. Well? Merital (softly). I know somebody else who stole something from the stamp drawer thirty years ago. (Fr6peau's whiskers tremble.) Aha, I thought I 'd move you this time. Frepeau. It's a lie! How did you find out ? Merital (blandly). I said to myself, " I am the hero of this play and'l 've got to got out of this mess somehow. If I could only find some papers in- criminating the villain — that's you — all would be well." So I — er — found them. ... It 's no good, Frepeau. Unless you let me oft', you 're done. Frepeau (getting up). Well, I sup- pose I must. But personally I 'd be ashamed to escape through such a rotten coincidence as that. (Making for Ilia door.) I '11 just go and arrange it. Er, I suppose this is the end? SIR GEORGES. The end ? Good Heavens, man, I 've got my big scene to come. I have to explain why Marital stole the money thirty years ago! HOLMAN CLARK (eagcrlij). Let rcc guess. His wife was starv— SIR GEORGES. No, no, don't spoil it. (Sternly) It 's a very serious thing, IIOLMAN, to spoil an actor-manager's big scene. CURTAIN. ACT III. Daniel Mcrital. Father has won his case. I am glad. Oh, are you there, Father ? I 'in just going downstairs to count the telegrams. [Exit. Enter Ben£e. Hence. You have won the case ? I knew it. I knew you were innocent. Merital (nobly). Rcnee, I am not innocent. I did steal that ninepence. I would have confessed it before, but I had to think of my family. (Cheers from the gallery.) Of course it would also have been unpleasant for me if it had been known, but that did not influence me. (More cheers.) I thought only of my children. Let me tell you now why 1 stole it. Renee (eagerly). Let me guess. Your wife was starving — Mcrital (astounded). WTonderful ! How ever did you know ? Hence. • — and you meant to repay the money. Merital. More and more marvellous. Yes, Renee, that waa how it was. But it hardly does justice to the affair. It is too short. I want to tell you the story of my whole life and then you will understand. Watch my face care- fully and observe bow it works ; notice the constant movement of my hands ; listen to the inflections of my voice. This is going to be the longest speech ever made by an actor-manager, and you mustn't miss a moment of it. Il'r'm ! Now then. (Nobly) I was born fifty-three years ago. My father . . . Eenee (half-an-hour later). 1 still love you. Merital (with some truth). What a love yours is ! Enter Daniel, Julien and Georgette Marital. Daniel. Father, we have a confession to make. For some time we doubted your innocence. Your face — well, you 'd have doubted it yourself if you 'd seen it. Merital (taking Ms hand affection- ately). Ah! Do,niel, I sea I must tell you the story of my life. (Excitement among the audience.) And you too, Julien. (Panic.) Yes, and — little Georgette! SAFETY CURTAIN. A. A. M. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 7, 1914. MEXICAh PRESI PROCL THREE MO THE EARTHLY PARADISE. Coster. "SEE THAT. LIZ? THERE'S A COUNTRY FOR YOU!" JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. PEACEFUL PERSUASION. (JOXES IS SOT NATURALLY A GENEROUS MAN.) THE ROMANCE OF A BATTLESHIP. (From the Navy League Annual of 1916.) I HAVE just returned (writes a Naval correspondent) from an interesting visit to the condemned battleship, H.M.S, Indefensible, which is now anchored off firightlingsea, in the charge of retired petty-officer Herbert Tompkins and his wife. The history of II..M.S. Indefensible, as gathered from the lips of her present curator, is so romantic as to be worthy of permanent record. In reply to my first question, " Whom .did she belong to iirst of all '? " Mr. Tompkins said, " Well, she was ordered first of all by the Argentine Eepublic, but, owing to a change of Government, they sold her to the Italians. I remember the launch at Barrow quite well," he said. "It was a mighty fine show, with the Italian Ambassador and his wife — the Magnifieo Pomposo, they called her, I think it was — and there was speechify- ing and hurraying and enough cham- pagne drunk to float her. That was just three years ago : a super- Dread- nought, they called her." " Then how did the British Govern- ment get her ? " " Lor bless you, Sir, that didn't come for a long time yet. Ye see, Italy shortly afterwards made an alliance with Denmark, and, wishing to do the Danes a good turn, she arranged to sell them the Magnifieo Pomposo at cost price — about three millions I think it was. But immediately afterwards the Eusso-Chinese war broke out, and the Chinese offered the Danes four millions for the Dannebrog, as they had called her, so by the time the engines were put into her she had been re- christened the Hoang-Ho. But the war never came off : you remember that Mr. EOOSEVELT settled it by fight- ing a single combat with the Eussian champion after he bad been appointed President of China; so the Chinese leased the Hoang-Ho to the King of SIAM for four years at a million a year." " Did she get out to Siani, then ? " " Oh no, Sir, no fear. The crew ran her on the Goodwin Sands on her trial trip, and there she stuck for a year. Before they got her off the Siamese had been released from their bargain by the Hague Tribunal, Mr. EOOSEVELT had resigned the Presidency of China for that of Mexico, and the new President sold the Chulalongkorn back to Great Britain. Of course by that time she was quite obsolete, so they called her the Indefensible, and put a nucleus crew on board for a few months. Then when Mr. LLOYD GEORGE became Prime Minister, they offered her to Canada as a gift ; but the Canadians didn't like her name. And when Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL came back last month he decided that she was to be made a target ; but last week I heard she was to be sold for scrap- iron." "Then whom does she belong to now? " " Well, Sir, some says she belongs to Canada, and others say she's British, and others say she belongs to Mr. CHURCHILL, but in a manner of speaking I think she rightly belongs to Mrs. Tompkins and me." " On making enquiries at the Hospital this afternoon, we learn that the deceased is as \\ell as can be expected." — Jersey Evening Post. It would, of course, be foolish to expect much. PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHAU1VARI. [jAsi-.uiv 7, 1914. A NEW BOOK OF BEAUTY. A HUNDRED years ago they had line engravings by CHARLES HEATH, and the long-necked, ringleted ladies looked : wistfully or simperingly at you. I have several examples: Caskets, Albums, Keep- sakes. This hook is different. The steel j engravers have long since all died of j starvation ; and hero are photographs j only, hut there are many more of them, ! and (strange innovation !) there are j more gentlemen than ladies. For this preponderance there is a good com- mercial reason, as any student of the work will quickly discover, for we are now entering a sphere of life where the beauty of the sterner sex (if so severe a word can be applied to such sublimation of everything that is soft and voluptuous and en- dearing) is more con- sidered than that of the other. Beautiful ladies are here in some pro- fusion, but the first place [ is for beautiful and; guinea - earning gentle men. In the old Books of Beauty one could make ' a choice. There was always one lady su- premely longer - necked, | more wistful or more! simpering than the' others. But in this new Book of Beauty one turns the pages only to be more perplexed. The embarrassment of riches is too embarrassing. I have been through the work a score of times and am still; wondering on whom my affections and admiration are most firmly fixed. This new Book of Beauty has a very different title from the old ones. It is called The Pekingese, and is the revised edition for 1914. How to play the part of Paris where all the competitors have some irresisti- bility, as all have of either sox ! Once 1 thought that Wee Mo of Westwood was iny heart's chiefest delight, " a name-red little dog with black mask and ear-fringes, profuse coat and featherings, Hat wide skull, short flat face, short bowed legs and woll-shapod body." But then I turned back to Broadoak Beetle and on to Broadoak (•irawanzi, and Young Beetle, and Nanking Fo, and Ta Fo of Greystones, and Pctsho Ah Wei, and Hay Ch'ah of Toddington, and that superb Sultanic creature, King Rudolph of Kurifcania, and Champion Howbury Ming, and Su Eh of Nevvnham, and King Beetle of Mindcn, and Champion Hu Hi, and Mo Sho, and that rich rod dog, Buddha of Burford. And having chosen these I might just as well scratch out their names and write in others, for every male face in this hook is a poem. The ladies, as I have said, are in the minority, for obvious reasons, for these little disdainful distinguished gentlemen figure here as potential fathers, with their fees somewhat indelicately named ; for there 's a husbandry on earth as well as in heaven. Such ladies as are hero are here for their beauty alone and are beyond or below price. Their favours are not to be bought. Among them I note with especial joy Yiptseof Chinatown, Man- darin Marvel, who " inherits the beauti- ful front of her sire, Broadoak Beetle"; Lavender of Burton-on-Dee, " fawn why should wo not say that it was the • introduction of Pekingese into England • from China ? According to an historical I sketch at the beginning of this book, the first Pekingese were brought over in I860, after the occupation of 1'ekin by the Allies. The first black ones came here in 1896, and now in 1914 there arc thousands of these wholly alluring and adorable and masterful little big- hearted creatures in England, turning staid men and women into ecstatic worshippers and making children lyrical with cries of appreciation. The book before me is the finest monument yet raised to this conquering breed. NKW SEASON'S NOVELTIES. 1. THE CAT'S-MEAT HAT-PIN PBOTECTOH. 2. THE MUD-SPLASH VEIL. 3. THE THBOAT CORSET. with black mask"; Chi-Fa of Alder- bourne, " a most charming and devoted little companion"; Yeng Loo of Ipsley; Detlong Mo-li of Alderburne, one of the " beautiful red daughters of Wong-ti of Alderburne," Champion Chaou Ching- ur, of whom her owner says that " in quaintness and individuality and in loving disposition she is unequalled "and is also " quite a ' woman of tho world,' very blasec and also very punctilious in trifles ; " Pearl of Cotehele, " bright red with beautiful back " ; E- Wo Tu T'su ; Berylune Tzu Hsi Chu ; Ko-ki of Iladbourne and Siddington Fi-fi. Every now and then there is an article in tho papers asking and answering the question, What is the greatest benefit that has come to man- kind in tho past half century? The answer is usually the Marconi system, or the cinema, or the pianola, or the turbine, or the Eontgen rays, or the telephone or the motor car. Always something utilitarian or scientific. But MISUNDERSTOOD. (A Story of the Stone Age.) OF all tho young bachelors in his tribe not one was more highly esteemed than Ug, the son of Zug. He was one of the nicest young prehistoric men that ever sprang seven feet into the air to avoid the im- pulsive bite of a sabre- tooth tiger, or cheered the hearts of grave elders searching for inter-tribal j talent by his lightning sprints in front of ex- citable mammoths. Everybody liked Ug, and ' it was a matter of sur- prise to his friends that he had never married. One bright day, how- ever, they were interested to observe that he had begun to exhibit all the symptoms. He brooded apart. Twice in succession ho refused a second help of pterodactyl at the tribal luncheon table. And there were those who claimed to have come upon him laboriously writing poetry on the walls of distant caves. It should be understood that in those days only the .most powerful motive, such as a whole-hearted love, could drive a man to writing poetry ; for it was not the ridiculously simple task which it is to-day. The alphabet had not yet been invented, and the only method by which a young man could express himself was by carving or writing on stone a series of pictures, each of which convoyed the sense of some word or phrase. Thus, where the modern bard takes but a few seconds to write, " You made me love you. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it," Ug, tho son of Zug, had to sit up night after night till he had carved three trees, a plesiosaurus, four kinds of fish, a star-shaped rock, eleven JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. different varieties of flowering shrub, and a more or less lifelike representa- tion of a mammoth surprised while hathing. It is little wonder that the youth of the period, ever impetuous, looked askance at this method of re- vealing their passion, and preferred to give proof of their sincerity and fervour by waiting for the lady of their affec- tions behind a rock and stunning her with a club. But the refined and sensitive nature of Ug, the son of Zug, shrank from this brusque form of wooing. He was shy with women. To him there was some- thing a little coarse, almost ungentle- manly, in the orthodox form of proposal ; and he had made up his mind that, if ever he should happen to fall in love, he would propose by ideograph. It was shortly after he had come to this decision that, at a boy-and-girl dance given by a popular local hostess, he mot the divinest creature lie had ever seen. Her name was Wug, the daughter of Glug ; and from the moment of their introduction he realised that she was the one girl in the world for him. It only remained to compose the ideograph. Having steadied himself as far as possible by carving a few poems, as described above, he addressed himself to the really important task of the proposal. It was extraordinarily difficult, for Ug had not had a very good education. All he knew he had picked up in the give and take of tribal life. For this reason he felt it would be better to keep the thing short. But it was hard to condense all he felt into a brief note. Fot a long time he thought in vain, then one night, as he tossed sleeplessly on bis bed of rocks, he came to a decision. Ho would just ideograph, "Dear Wug, I love you. Yours faith- fully, Ug. P.S. B.S.V.P.," and leave it at that. So in the morning he got to work, and by the end of the week the ideograph was completed. It consisted of a rising sun, two cave-bears, a walrus, seventeen shin-bones of the lesser rib- nosed baboon, a brontosaurus, three sand-eels, and a pterodactyl devouring a mangold-wurzel. It was an uncom- monly neat piece of work, he considered, for one who had never attended an art- school. He was pleased with it. It would, bo flattered himself, be a queer sort of girl who could stand out against that. For the first time for weeks he slept soundly and peacefully. Next day his valet brought him with his morning beverage a piece of flat rock. On it was carved a simple human thigh-bone. He uttered a loud cry. She had rejected him. The parcel-post, an hour later, brought him CKRS ECKNK— Aii Army Boxiny Competition. Civilian. "RATHER A FEARFUL MAS, THAT?" Soldier. "\VELD, 'B AIN'T REALLY VERY FEARFUL. Yon SEE THE BIO FELLOW'S 'is SERGEANT AS1 THIS IS THE ONLY CHANCE 'E 'AS OF GETTING A BIT OF 'IS OWN BACK." bis own ideograph, returned without a word. Ug's greatest friend in the tribe was Jug, son of Mug, a youth of extra- ordinary tact and intelligence. To him Ug took his trouble. Jug heard his story, and asked to see exactly what he had ideographed. " You must have expressed yourself badly," he said. " On the contrary," replied Ug, with some pique, " my proposal was brief, but it was a model of what that sort of proposal should be. Here it is. Bead it for yourself." Jug read it. Then lie looked at his friend, concerned. "But, my dear old man, what on earth did you mean by saying she has red hair and that you hate the sight of her?" " What do you mean ? " " Why, this ichthyosaurus." "That's not an ichthyosaurus. It's a brontosaurus." "It's not a bit like a brontosaurus. And it is rather like an ichthyosaurus. Where you went wrong was in not taking a few simple lessons in this sort of thing first." " If you ask me," said Ug dis- gustedly, "this picture-writing is silly rot. To-morrow I start an Alphabet." * * * * * But on the morrow he was other- wise employed. He was standing, concealed behind a rock, at the mouth of the cave of Wug, daughter of Glug. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, and his lingers were clasped like steel bands round the handle of one of the most business-like clubs the Stone Age had ever seen. Orthodoxy had found another disciple. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 7, 1914. CHARIVARIA. SIK ERNEST SHACKLETON is to under- take a new expedition to the South Pole, and across the whole South Polar Continent. It is said that an offer from Dr. COOK, who happens to be over here, to show Sir ERNEST how he might save himself much wearisome travelling in achieving his object, has been rejected. ... :;. Judge PARRY declares, in the current number of The Cornhill, that lost golf balls belong to the KING ; and the ball- room at Buckingham Palace is, we understand, to ha enlarged at once. '"--:•' Mr. BERNARD SHAW is the latest addition to Madame TUSSAUD'S gallery of wax-works. But Mr. CHESTERTON must not be jealous. He too, we understand, will bo placed there if room can be found for him. From some correspondence in The Express we learn that members of more than one savage tribe have a habit of standing on one leg. We see no objection to this at all, but we were bound to protest the other day, in a crowded train, when wo came across a stout gentleman standing on one foot. The foot, we should mention, was ours. ... ... Of the late Mr. JOHN WILLIAM WHITE, who was only twenty-one inches in height, we are told that he was an ardent politician. Could he have been a Liitle Knglander? Straws show which, way the wind blows, and the fact that the first prize in the Christmas lottery at Madrid has beeri.won iu Madrid, and the second in London, is held by wiseacres to prove that there is a secret understanding between our country and Spain. The fact ;that France's Colonial Empire, which is already extensive, has been increased by the birth, during a volcanic eruption, of a new island in the New Hebrides, lias caused some little irritation in (icrmany. The Lost Property department of Scotland Yard will, it is said, this year easily beat all previous records in the number of articles lost. But we English have always had the reputa- tion of being good losers. It is announced that Miss PHYLLIS DESMOND, of the Gaiety Theatre, and Mr. C. R. FINCH NOYKS, of the Royal Naval Flying Corps, were married secretly last June. As proving how difficult it is to keep a secret we believe that the fact has been known for some time past both to Miss DESMOND and Mr. Novr.s. ... ... Special cinema productions depict- ing scenes of a sacred nature were provided by enterprising managers for the clergy during the holiday season. When one remembers that there is also Who 's the Lady '!- running under distinguished episcopal patronage, the modern curate cannot complain that he is not well catered for. We congratulate The Daily Mail on finding a peculiarly appropriate topic for discussion at Christmas time. It was Too Much Cramming." Thieves broke into the vestry during the service and stole the gold watch and chain which the minister preaching the Christmas sermon at Marylebone Presbyterian church had left there. The minister must be sorry now that he did not trust his congregation. Mr. GEORGE BAKER, of Brentwood, received a presentation the other clay on completing his fiftieth year as a carol singer. He mentioned that once, at the beginning of his career, his carol party was broken up by an angry London householder, who fired a pistol- shot from his bedroom window. The modern Londoner, we fear, is decadent, and lacks the necessary spirit. Dr. MARY WILLIAMS, medical inspector of schools under the Worcestershire County Council, has discovered, as a result ol investigations, that there is a higher proportion of nervous, excit- able children among the red-haired ones than among the others. We haye ourselves known more than one such lad lose all , self-control merely upon being addressed as " Carrots." Is a motor-car, it is being asked, feminine — like a ship '! A correspondent in The Times refers to her as a lady. Presumably because she wears a bonnet. A correspondent write* to Tlic Pall Mall Gazette asking whether there is anything in the idea that a large number of used penny postage stamps will enable a person to be received into a charitable institution. Wo have always understood that the collector of one million of thes:? stamps is admitted into a lunatic asylum without having to pass the entrance examination. A lion from the bush, attracted by the roaring of its caged relatives in a circus at Wankies, South Africa, suddenly made its way into the mena- gerie. The beast was ultimately driven away by attendants armed with red-hot pokers, but five persons were seriously injured in the panic. The ticket- collector who let the animal in without payment has been reprimanded. Speaking of M EDWIN'S Revised Life] of fihelley a critic says, in a contem- porary : " He puts the well - known boats of Archimedes into blank verse." These boats were, we presume, fitted with ARCHIMEDES' famous screw ? The Hindujah barrage on the Euphrates has now been completed by an English firm, and will provide! water for the Garden of Eden. The structure, we presume, is a blend of the! ADAM stylo with NOAH'S architecture. " TRAINING SHIP OFF THE EMBANKMENT " is a heading which attractsourattention. This seems a much better idea than having the vessel on the Embankment, where it would be in everyone's way. THE LAST STRAW. [•'The way in which individual taste is allowed to assert itself lends a curious charm to the present modes. " — Fashicn Xotc.j THIS is the finish, Josephine. Through every swift sartorial change Constant and true my love has been, Nor showed the least desire to range. The hobble only brought to me These thoughts with consolation laden : — " Lo, this is Fashion's fell decree; One must not blame the maiden. " It is not hers this hideous choice ; She blindly follows Fashion's lead, And deference to a ruling voice Proclaims her just the wife I need. ' Nought questioning, she answers to That voice,' as soldiers to a trumpet; " And thus I choked the thought that you Were barmy on the crumpet. But now unhappy doubts intrude To bid my satisfaction shrink ; For Fashion in a gracious mood Allows her devotees to think. Since for your present garb, it scorns, The mode is not to blame iu toto, Tin's is the end of love's young dreams (Dear, you may keep my photo). > "Of cour.se, there is a dress parade, with some wonderful dresses, but if it had been only a parade it would not have been less interesting." — Daily News. It would have been more interesting — but we hardly expected The Daily Xe to say so. JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS. Extract frnm 3fr. Herbert StxJye's Idler to liis sister. " WE WEBE GLAD TO HAVE ODB NEPHEW AND NIECE WITH us, BUT, FRANKLY, THKY AllE TOO SOLKMX. 'WE TOOK THEM TO THE PANTOMIME; THEY CAME OUT GOLFING WITH US ; AND WE ALLOWED THEM TO BIT UP LATE, BUT THE ONLY TIME THEY SMILED WAS WHEN THEY BAID GOOD-BYE." 10 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 7, 1914. AT OUR LOCAL FANCY CARNIVAL. Individual in Tights. "I BAY, THIS PLACE is BEASTLY WARM — I THINK I'LL CUT OFF HOMK." 'fhe One with the Scythe. "I THINK I \VILL ALSO. I WONDER WHAT THE TIME is?" THE SUBSCRIPTION. CHAKLES, when our protest was lodged, merely replied that our favour of the 10th inst. was to hand, and that he really could not see his way to moving further in the matter. Let me explain the present extent of Charles's movement. Miss Donelan, \vlio ought to have known batter, had allowed herself to he saddled with a thing called a Branch subscription list on behalf of the St. Nicholas New Year Offering. Having exploited the probables and possibles she finally handed the docu- ment on to me with instructions to tout it round among my friends. (This is the sort of thing you get nowadays for placing your life at a young woman's disposal.) Unfortunately I have no friends just now, except what 1 want to keep. While I was thus at a loss, Charles came to stay for a fuw days three doors off. Ho lives a long way away and would have time to forgot before I saw him again. So on the day before his departure I bearded him like a man. "Charles," 1 began, "you are fabu- lously rich. Your income comes in at such a pace that you hardly ever know within five shillings how much you have at the bank." Charles blinked through the smoke of a violet-tipped cigarette. " What about it? " he asked. "This," I said; "I am, very re- luctantly, ottering you the chance of doing good. All you have to do is to 1 sign your name here for anything up to a hundred pounds, and the good does itself. It is the Saint Nicholas New Year Offering." '• What does it do?" asked Charles uncomfortably. " Do ? " I answered. " Why, I don't think it does exactly (Jo. You see it 's a New Year Offering." "I see," said Charles. "It doesn't do ; it offers. Just like a Member of Parliament." " I wish," I said, " instead of being funny at other people's expense you would be serious at your own, and tell me exactly how much I can put you down for? " " There you go again," said Charles. " You want me to think of some defi- nite amount on the spot. You know I hate thinking, and I hate definite amounts. And I loathe doing anything on the spot." I looked at the subscription list. The last entry was : — Major-General R. Hewland, £5 5s. Od. " You needn't do any thinking," I explained patiently. " You need only stick down exactly the same as the last man. And if you'll promise to do it I '11 leave the list witli you, and you can fill it in' when you feel sufficiently off the spot." " Exactly the same? " asked Charles. " Exactly," I said, with rising hopes. " All right," said Charles. " I '11 let you have it some time." Four days later, at Miss Donclan's urgent request, I wrote to Charles for it. It catnc in less than forty-eight hours. Extract from conclusion of subscrip- tion list returned by Charles :— Major-General R. Hewland, £.5 5s. Od. Dinner-Table Topics. "MR. LLOYD GEOKGK GOING TO A \VAHMEU CI.IMATK." Midland Ercninj A'tv Another Accident to an Infinitive. "It is good news to at last hear that pro- gress is being inside again towards healing the 'split.' " — Kuttinyliam Football Post. So far not much progress is visible. "Lord and Lidy Arthur Hill arrived at Maples yesterday from London." — Observer. And Mrs. and Miss Tomkins (in pursuit of bargains) continue to arrive daily at Peter Snelbody's from Cricklewood. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 7, 1914. THE SPLENDID PAUPERS. FIISST TUUKISH OFFICIAL (presented with a photograph of the new Turkish Navy in lieu of six months' deferred pay}. "SO WE'VE GOT A DREADNOUGHT, HAVE WE?" SECOND TURKISH OFFICIAL. " I DON'T KNOW WHO GETS THE DREAD. BUT I KNOW \VK 'YE GOT THE NOUGHT." JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE SPELL whereby the Good People may be \ brought back to a house which they \ haw deserted. FAIRIES ! — whatsoever sprite Near about us dwells — You wlio roam the hills at night, You who haunt the dells — Where you harbour, hear us ! By the Lady Hecate's might, Hearken and come near us ! Though we greatly fear, alack ! Cloddish unbelief Angered you and made you pack To our present grief, Hearts you shall not harden : Bathe your hurts and come you buck Here to house and garden ! By the oak and ash and thorn, By the rowan tree, This was done ere we were born : Kith nor kin are we Of the folk whose blindness Shut you out with scathe and scorn. Banished with unkindness. Sea, wo call you, hands entwined, Standing at our door, With the glowing hearth behind And the wood before. Thence, where you are lurking, Back we bring you, bring and bind With our magic's working. Lo, our best we give for cess, Having naught above Handsel of our happiness, Seizin of our love. Take it then, O fairies ! Homely gods that guard and bless, Little kindly Lares. WHAT OUR EEADEES THINK OF US. The Daily Expresx having invited its readers to intimate their opinion of that journal, Mr. Punch decided also to give the grumblers a chance of saying what they think of his production, and he now publishes a typical selection of the letters which have reached him : — Sin, — I gave up your journal many years ago on account of its partisanship, and never read it now. Only last week I came across a paragraph in my copy which made me throw the paper into the waste-paper basket. Yours faithfully, VKHITAS. Sin, — Why is it you always favour the Tories? Yours faithfully, WELSH MEMBER. Sin, — If you continue to publish cartoons with a pronounced Radical bias 1 am afraid you v/ill lose at least one OLD SUBSCRIBER. (5.35 A.M. workman's train.) Sill. " 'Uixo, ?EKB ; GOT A JOB, THEN?" 'Erb. "I AIN'T COIN' UP TO LON'ON FOB A TANGO LESSON, I GIVE YOU MY WOKD." Sin, — I object to the advertisements. I think it would bo a good move if you were to drop these, increase the num- ber of pages, and reduce the price to a halfpenny. In taking this course you would have the support of several influential members of my parish, in addition to myself. Yours faithfully, A COUNTRY PARSON. SIR, — What your paper needs is light relief. Could you not give us a little humour now and then ? Yours faithfully, A POPULAR WRITER. P.S. — The last MS. you returned to me was very much crumpled. Please be more careful in the future. SIR, — I think it a pity you publish jokes. In this age, when all things-- even our dear Bishops — are considered fit subjects for jest, we could do with one serious-minded paper. Trusting you will think this over, Yours faithfully, HITCHY KIKUYU. SIR, — You should see our American comic papers. Yours faithfully, WASHINGTON G. BUSTER. SIR, — I find the blank pages at the back of the cartoons very useful for making notes on. Could you not ex- tend this feature? Yours faithfully, PROFESSOR. SIR, — I think you would do well to cater more for women — who, after all, are a rising sex. A page each week devoted to modern fashions would not 1)0 at all out of place in your paper. Yours faithfully, EVK. SIR, — In my opinion your paper is the cleverest in the country — nay in the world. Nowhere else is such ex- quisite literary discrimination shown. I enclose a small contribution for your consideration, and am, Yours faithfully, CONSTANT READER. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [.TANUAUY 7, 1914. THE PAPER-CHASE. I ARRIVED at homo at three o'clock on a frosty afternoon. foundation. A jog-trot seems the easiest thing in the world, but after two hundred yards the temptation to lapse i .-until ms itu niMiii, i.u 1-..IUV, « v/.™»» «». .. ^«uv_, U.I..W....UU... . into a walk becomes irresistible. I will dwell no further Now," thought I, "I shall have a quiet time before tea] on my own experiences, but transfer myself in imagination and shall be able to write a few letters and start my article." j to the hounds who were chasing mo. Afterwards I heard so much of their exploits that I almost came to fool I It was a dream of usefully employed leisure, but it didn't last long. I found the whole family, with the addition of a little boy- friend, gathered together in a very purposeful and alarming way in the library There was about them an undefinable air of the chase, for they were all well-bootad and belled, and Peggy had a largo clasp-knife dangling at her waist. " It is for the hare," she said, " when we catch him." "The hare?" I said. " What hare?" " You," said the lady of the house cheerfully, " are to be the hare. You are to run till you are cooked, and then you will be caught." '• What madness is this? " I said. "It's not madness a bit," said Helen indignantly. "It's a paper-chase." "And I,"saidRosie, "have torn up all The Timescs." " And I," said John, who is not always sure of his tenses, though lie is very voluble, " have tored up The Daily Xcirses." "That's capital," I said with enthusiasm. " A paper- chase is the best fun in the world. I '11 see you start and give you a cheer." "You can't do that," said Helen firmly, " because we 've settled that you 're to carry the bag and be the hare." "Come, come," I said, "this is an unworthy proposal. Would you chase your more than middle-aged father over the open country? Never. How could he look the village in the face if he were to be sjon scattering little bits of paper from a linen bag? He would fall in their e'sti- shared in their daring and been a party to their final success. From the garden door the lino led across the ron'i i i "TWELFTH NIGHT" (JAN. G). Mr. Lloi/d George (as Malvolio). "Pool, there was never man so notoriously abused." — Act IV., Scene '2. on to a track skirting the railway. This piece was taken at a brisk pace, the scent being breast-high. A shoot might have covered the whole pack. Then came a hairpin turn over the level crossing, a swing to the right and a trudge up the hill. Half-way up there were gates to the. right and the left, and here the blown but wary hare had laid his first false trail. This unsuspected device roused the utmost indignation, and doubts were freely expressed as to its being legitimate. John was sent to the right to investigate ; Peggy went off to the left, which proved to be the true trail, and in a very short time the dauntless five were once more in full cry. Bosie, who is a reader of books, afterwards said that no sleuth-hounds could have done the thing better. So by paths and ploughed fields and over gates and stiles the dreadful chase continued until there came another chock. "These," said Helen, pointing to some pieces of paper, " are not newspaper. They are bits of letters." It was too true. The Timcscs and The Ihiihj Nctvses had given out, and the hare, omitting nothing that might lead to his destruction, had torn up all his available correspondence. It threw the pack out for a few minutes, but they rallied. In another hundred-and-fifty yards they ran into their hare, who, niation and would drag you all -with him in his full. John," 1 said, " you would not have your father fall, would you? " "It would make me laugh," said John, and the rest seemed to think that this callous remark settled the matter. "Anyhow," I said, "I must have plenty of law." " \\ n \Vf»n f". M n T'r» a mr la vn " <i<i i /] TT^I ,. »-. ,..1, „ ! „ . gent We won't have any law," said Helen', who is an intelli- ; child ; " it 's all nuarrollint's." Law," I said, "is the embodiment of human wisdom. In this case it means that I 'm going to have ten minutes' start. Everyone of you must pledge his or her honour not to move until I 've been gone ten minutes." They made no difficulty about this, and, the lady of the house having appointed herself time-keeper and having "d to have a large tea ready for us when we returned, I was sent on my way with a bag of paper and many shrill shouts of encouragement. case paperless and letterless, had taken refuge behind a tree and was ignominiously hauled out. So ended our great Christmas paper-chase, an event which must remain justly celebrated both for the ardour with which it was undertaken and for the endurance with which it was pursued. What a chatter there was as we returned, what a narration of glorious incidents of pace, of skill and of cunning defeated by greater cunning. Falls there had been and shin-scrapes and the tearing of skirts and stock- ings, and legends were made up and told again and again. And at home the lady of the house had to hear it all once more, and the tea she gave us was voted the best in the world. Copy of letter to Clerk of the Peace in reply to Jury Summons : PEAR SIR,— Your to hand re Jany 9/14 Sumons to Quarter Sessions i beg to be excused from this as I have ann absess forming under a daresay; they fancy themselves as ' bad tooth and at the present time my face is very much swollen. further that the 9th being a red letter day "in my life being the runners on the strength of their remembered boyish feats, - » ,-...„ . lcu „,. and of certain more recent runs when they have lingered i -v on whic1' m.v dear wife passed away too long over breakfast and have had to" catch a train I warn them not to build a paper-chase on so slender a and I have understood that nil those over CO yrar of age was exempt from these things. So I shall bo extrccmly obligid if you could free me this time answer by bearer will oblig your respectfully JANUAET 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 15 AFTER A BAD DAY'S GOLF "HEBE WE ABE AGAIN." CONTINENTAL INTELLIGENCE. AN extraordinary domestic tragedy is reported from a remote province of Poland. A beautiful young woman, named Vera Alexandrina Polianowski, who had been married only about two years, was expecting the return home of her husband, a sailor. During his absence of five months a mournful calamity had befallen her in an affection of the larynx, which threatened to de- prive her temporarily ot the power to articulate. Realising her impending affliction, she had taught a grey parrot, which her husband had left with her, to exclaim repeatedly from just inside the door of her cottage, in joyous accents that bore no inconsiderable resemblance to her own once melodious voice, these touching words, " Enter, dearest Vladi- mir, and console me for my misfortune ! " It chanced, however, that before marrying Vladimir Polianowski, the sailor, Vora Alexandrina had had a lover in poor circumstances named Vladimir Crackovitch, whom, with the thought- lessness of a beautiful young girl, she had encouraged to got rich as quickly as he could in America and then return to claim her as his bride. Vladimir Crackovitch had taken her at her word. With the silent determination of a great soul, he had amassed about a hundred thousand dollars in America in less than four years, and only two o: three minutes before Vera Alex- andrina's husband was due to arrive he himself stood at the cottage door with folded arms, asking himself if he should or should not enter and reproach Yera Alexandrina for her inconstancy. His hesitation was suddenly overcome by the parrot. "Enter, dearest Vladimir, and console me for my misfortune ! " it cried eagerly from within, and, not for an instant doubting that it was an invitation from the woman whom ho still loved fondly in spite of her perfidy, and being unaware of her laryngeal affliction, he bounded into the house and hurried from room to room until he found Vera Aloxandrina Polianowski. But Vladimir, the sailor, had already in the meantime, from the top of an adjacent lane, beheld Vladimir Cracko- vitch at the door of his home, and, being a man of the most blindly passionate and jealous impulses,; his next procedure may 'be imagined. Several hours later a neighbour called at the cottage and discovered the three corpses in one sad heap : Vera Alex- andrina Polianowski, shot through the breast ; at her side, Vladimir Cracko- vitch, with a bullet in each eye; and, still clutching his revolver, Vladimir, the sailor, seated upon his grirn cushion of the dead, his back supported against the wall under the domestic lamplit icon, with a smile of hellish satisfaction frozen upon his lips and the remaining three bullets buried in his heart. The above is not necessarily a true story. It is a specimen of the small- print news with which the rather young Assistant Sub-Editor of The Dul- landshire Chronicle (established 1763) is permitted, occasionally, to divert those of The Chronicle's subscribers who take an intelligent interest in con- tinental affairs. "You know the ' Tziganes, ' don't you? — those marvellous gentlemen in red coats with sleek dark singlets, exotic complexions, and bold, rolling black eyes." — Sunday Chronicle. Strictly speaking, singlets, of whatever colour, should be worn under the coat. 16 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 7, 1914. THE HUNTSMAN'S STORY. 1 ii F. .urn the huntsman calling as he drew Threeacre Spinney; He found a fox and hunted him and handled him ere night, And his voice upon the hill-side was as golden as a guinea, And I ventured he'd done nicely — most respectful and polite — Jig-jogging hack to kennels, and the stars were shining bright. Old Jezebel and Jealous they were trotting at his stirrup ; The road was clear, the moon was up, 'twas but a mile or so; He got the pack behind him with a chirp and with a chirrup, And said he, "I had the secret from my gran'dad long ago, And all the old man left me, Sir, if you should want to know. " And lie was most a gipsy, Sir, and spoke the gipsy lingos, But he knew of hounds and horses all as NIMROD might have know'd : When we 'd ask him how lie did it, he would say, ' You little Gringos, I learnt it from a lady that I met upon the road ; In the hills o' Connemara was this wondrous gift bestowed.' " Connemara — County Galway — he was there in 1830 ; He was taking hounds to kennel, all alone, he used to say, And the hills of Connemara, when the night is falling dirty, Is an ill place to be left in when the dusk is turning grey, An ill place to be lost in most at any time o' day. "Adown the dismal mountains that night it blew tremendous, A-sobbing like a giant and a-snorting like a -whale, When he saw beside the sheep-track (' Holy Saints,' says he, ' defend us ! ') A mighty dainty lady, dressed in green, and sweet and pale, And she rode an all-cream pony with an Arab head and tail. " Says she to him, ' Young gentleman, to you I 'd be beholden If you 'd ride along to Fairyland this night beside o' me; There's a fox that eats our chickens — them that lays the eggs that 's golden — • And our little fairy mouse-dogs, ah, 'tis small account they '11 be, Sure it wants an advertising pack to gobble such as he ! ' " So gran'dad says, ' Your servant, Miss,' and got his hounds together, And the mountain-side flew open and they rode into the hill ; 1 Your country 's one to cross,' says he, and rights a stirrup- leather, And he found in half-a-jift'ey, and he finished with a kill ; And the little fairy lady, she was with 'em with a will. " Then ' O,' says she, ' young man,' says she, ' 'tis lonesome here in Faerie, So won't you stay and hunt wilh us and never more to roam, And take a bride '—she looks at him — ' whose youth can never vary, Witli hair as black as midnight and a breast as white as foam ? ' And 'Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, 'but I 've got a wife at home ! ' "Then, 'O, young man,' says she, ' young man, then you shall take a bounty, A bounty of my magic that may grant you wishes three ; Come make yourself the grandest man from out o' Galway County To Dublin's famous city all of my good gramarye ? ' And, ' Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, ' but such ain't no use to me.' " But he said, since she was pressing of her fairy spells and forces, He'd take the threefold bounty, lest a gift he'd seem to scorn : He'd ask, beyond all other men, the tricks o' hounds and horses, And a voice to charm a woodland of a soft December morn, And sons to follow after him, all to the business born. "And — but here we are at home, Sir. Yes, the old man was a terror For his fairies and his nonsense, yet the story 's some- ways right ; He 'd the trick o' hounds and horses to a marvel — and no error; And to hear him draw a woodland was a pride and a delight ; And — was it luck entirely, Sir, I killed my fox to-niijlit '" THE LITTLE WONDER. THE crowd had gone, the lights had been extinguished, and the doors of the music-hall were shut. The Little Wonder was tired after the performance ; his attempt to do the double somersault had strained him, and his failure had brought a whipping. Although the outhouse in which he was to lie was cold and damp and smelt horribly, he was glad when his master thrust him into it, and he was content to lie down in the straw and forget his misery in sleep. He dreamt a beautiful dream. He dreamt that he was a master, and that he was presenting to a crowded audience what he had billed as "A Marvel of the Twentieth Century" — a performing man. The man wras a creature with a pink face, oily hair, and a black moustache; and the Little Wonder, in his capacity as master, made the Marvel bark like a dog, whereat the audience yelped its approval. Then the collar of a member of the audience was handed on to the stage, while the Marvel was blindfolded, and, after sniffing the collar, ho succeeded in tracking down its owner — like a dog again. And in whatever trick the Marvel did, the Little Wonder was close behind him, looking so friendly and threatening him with low growls at the same time. If the Marvel happened to remember for a moment his miserable condition and to look unhappy, his master would look still more kindly and threaten even more sternly. Then came the moment when the orchestra stopped suddenly, and the kettledrum rolled, and the eyes of the audience were fixed upon the Marvel. For this remarkable performing man was scratching in a tub of earth to find a bone — just like a real dog; and that was his greatest trick. When he had successfully performed it, his master (the Little Wonder) presented him with a twopenny cigar clothed in a flashy cummerbund, to show how generously he rewarded achievements. Then, as the curtain fell, he retired with many bows — and in the wings gave the Marvel a hot time for shirking the biscuit trick. I question whether the Little Wonder in real life would have so ill-treated any creature ; but things are different in dreams ; and, as he slept, a smile seemed to come into the shaggy face of. this little Irish terrier. " In a fierce game at llfracombe yesterday morning several houses were partially unroofed, and an arcade blown in." — Scotsman. Where was the referee ? JANUARY 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 17 KECOED RISKS. (.4 Sequel to "Narrow THE report that M. PADEBEWSKI has been huutcd by Nihilists out of Denver has suggested to the Editor of The Musical Mirror the happy thought of circularising a number of prominent musicians with a view to ascertaining the most dangerous experiences they havo ever undergone. Sir FREDERICK BRIDGE writes to say that the worst quarter of a minute he over spent was while tarpon fishing off the coast of Florida, when a gigantic tarpon, weighing some 400 Ihs., leaped into the boat with its mouth wide open. With great presence of mind the famous organist thrust into the monster's gaping jaws a full score of STHAUSS'S Elektra, which he was study- ing between the casts, and tho tarpon at once leaped out of the boat and was never seen or heard of again. Madame MELBA'S most perilous ex- perience was on a tour in the Far East, when the liner in which she was travelling was caught by a tidal wave and hurled with enormous velocity towards the rocky coast of Sumatra. Noticing that a large whale was follow ing the vessel, and remembering the peculiar susceptibility of these giant mammals to musical sounds, Madame MELBA sang the sccna, " Ocean, thou mighty monster," with such persuasive force that the whale allowed itself to be made fast with a hawser and then towed the liner back safely into the open sea. Mr. Bamborough (formerly M. 13am- berger) recounted the episode, already alluded to in these columns, when he was partially eaten by cannibals in the Solomon Islands ; but the details are too harrowing for reproduction, even in a condensed form. It is interesting to learn, however, that a punitive expedi- tion was despatched by the British Government to avenge the insult, as a result of which Mr. Bamborough was awarded an indemnity of 1,000 bales of copra, 20 tons of sandalwood, and £3,000 worth of tortoiseshell. Sir FREDERICK COWEN, in reply to the circular, states that the closest call lie ever had was when adjudicating at a Welsh Eisteddfod. In consequence of an unpopular award he was besieged in his hotel by an infuriated crowd and only escaped by changing clothes with a policeman. Professor Quantock de Banville re- lates how, while obtaining local colour for his new Choral Symphony, he was attacked by a gorilla in Central Africa, but tamed the mighty simian by the power of his eye. In conclusion we may note that the THE WEEK-END AND THE EXHAUSTED MIDDLE. TIME— Wednesday, 4 JP..V. Client (in office-boy). "CAN I BEE Mn. BROWN- ?" Office-liny. " AWAY FOR THE WEEK-END, Sm." Client. "WHICH?" Office-Bon. "NEXT, SIR." only disappointing answer was received from Signer Crinuto, the famous pianist, who replied, "I have never had a close shave, and never intend to have one." " A Christmas Tree Kiitcrtaimncnt will be hold in Pelican Lake school house on Tuesday, Dec. 23. Everybody welcome, no admission." — Vermilion Standard (Alberta. No relation to The Sporting Times). You are at perfect liberty to hang about outside. "No one can deny that it is essential London should have a thoroughly equipped shin hospital." — Adri. in " Sphere," No footballer, anyhow. From a General Knowledge (sic) Examination. The Cat and Mouse Act is an Act by which a cat may not kill a mouse unless when necessary. The Apocalypse is an ailment ono has apolcalyptic fits. Sea-legs are when you don't have logs but a tail. The All Ked Route is the human throat or swallow. Ten instruments for an orchestra are banjo, pianola, concertina, mandoline, psalteries, shawms, bagpipes, bells to clash with, violins, and bassinette. To die in harness means to die married. 18 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 7, 11)14. AT THE PLAY. "THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL." EMERSON says somewhere that there are great ways of borrowing ; that, if you can contrive to transmute base the fashionable world, where, as you know, everybody thinks the same thing at the same time, let oft' , recitatives perhaps a little cloying, but it was all quite nice and sympathetic. Still, I am afraid I agreed more than I was meant from time to time in unison. And j to with the speech of pretty little Miss there was much talk about " Robin Hood's Barn," a thing I was never told metal into fine, nobody will worry as , about at an ago when I am sure it and fantastic humour Wonderland, passed it would have given me sincere pleasure. . Here and there the symbolism was obvious to the point of crudity ; but you searched in vain for a consistent scheme. The father in his banknotes lashed to a ponderous safe was an easy personification of the slavery of wealth, and the pantomime ducks and drakes were simple to understand as sym- bolizing the career of a spendthrift (though the father was never that) ; to where you got your base metal from. But, when it is the other way about, I think you must not be surprised if people ask you where you lifted your gold. And the answer, in the case of Miss ELEANOR GATES, is that the nuggets were the property of LEWIS CARROLL. She has taken the sprightly of Alice in through the alembic (if that is the word) of her American imagination, and the result is something that hardly lets you smile at all. It is not a typical product of native industry, but even that does not make it much easier for us to grasp the secret of its success over there. It would seem that nearly all Transatlantic humour, indigenous or adoptive, is apt, like certain wines, to suffer in the process of sea-transit. Her "Poor Little Rich Girl" is poor because her parents are too rich. Her father is too busy with finance and her mother with social climbing to spare time for their daughter's company, so they leave her to the care of governesses and menials. Her nurse, anxious for an evening out at a picture- palace, gives the child an overdose of sleeping - mixture, with the result that she nearly dies of it. In the course of delirious dreams she finds herself in the " Tell-Tale 1'he Hobby Rider (Mr. CIIEKHV) takes the temperature of sentence of Ctiacomo Casale has been Forest" (which threatens to recall The Poor Little Kich Girl (Miss STEPHANIE BELL). remitted by King Victor Emmanuel. • The hound is Mr. ERNEST HEXDHIE (TVie J/nn «>/io wafas Casale's astonishment at the altered world in which he found himself on coming out of prison was unbounded. He immediately " — Daily Ejrpress. Unfortunately our contemporary stops there, and leaves us all in an agony of doubt. Our own view is that CASALE bought the Mimosa Edition of a certain rival journal, and that the Editor of The Express only just censored the paragraph in time. STEPHANIE BELL, when she told us before the curtain that they would cable to the author in America to say how glad we were that it was all over. Mr. ERNEST HENDKIE, who was translated from an organ-grinder to a maker of faces, played very soundly, but seemed to me a little too deliberate and conscious in his speech. I found a more moving appeal in the slight pathetic sketch of an old faithful butler by Mr. GEORGE MALLETT. Mr. FEWLASS LLEWELLYN might easily, with a little assistance from the author, have . extracted a lot more fun from his Plumber. Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY bad a simple and popular part as the good Doctor. Miss HELEN HAYE'S cleverness was wasted on the character of a sinuous gover- ness. Miss EVELYN WEEDEN did all that was asked of the mother in both worlds — the world of fancy and the world of fact. But, to speak truth, there was little attraction in the performance apart from the personality of Miss STEPHANIE BELL in the title role. If the play is to succeed — and its hope lies in the good temper and high spirits of holiday time — the author will owe most to the natural charm of this delightful young lady, who played throughout with a most engaging sincerity and ease. O. S. WITH THE "TELL-TALE FOREST" HUNT. After fifty years of good conduct in the Aneona Penitentiary, tho life The Palace of Truth), and here all „ . the picturesque phrases which she FacK]' wcll-known as The D°3 '" 2 '» Blu° has been in the childish habi.t of mis- but why, you asked, did tho double- interpreting in their literal sense — "a " bee in tho bonnet," to "ride hobbies," "to play ducks and drakes," "to pay the piper," and so forth — are realised in human or animal form. With these are mixed tho familiar figures of her waking life, all of them exposed in their true characters so that you can distinguish the devotion of the doctor (who now appears in pink because lie likes riding hobbies) and the affection of the teddy-bear (now ex- panded to human proportions) from the serpentine nature of the governess and the double-faced dealings of the nurse. Her father, who is a stranger to her, comes on dressed in banknotes and chained to a safe ; her mother, also a stranger, wears a society bee which buzzes in the place where her bonnet would have been ; and five samples of faced nurse exhaust all her spare moments and our patience pirouetting about the stage? Did she represent the levity of the dual life? Not at all; her actions bore no moral significance : she was just giving a literal illustration of a phrase — " to dance attendance." I don't know how the children in the audience appreciated all this, but I confess that some of it left me wondering whether my intelligence was too raw or too ripe for the fancies of this Wonder-Zoo-Land. The First Act, which showed the child's life at home, had fallen altogether flat ; but the Third, in which she wakes in her pretty bedroom, restored from the jaws of death to her repentant parents, put us on better terms with ourselves, for we were not really hard to please. The sweetness of it was " The wireless station at Kamina, in Togo, German West Afii:a, has received a number of wireless tclcgians from the station at Nauen, a distance of 3,348 miles. Tho Kainina station will not be able to reply until its new plant, which is being set up with the utmost speed, has been completed." — Iteu-ler. Indeed, the opinion is held by some that it would be quicker to reply by post. "Tho prison buildings themselves are separated from this wall by a yard measuring twenty-five years across." — Daily Dispatch. Of course a yard ought to measure thirty-six inches. JANCAE7 7, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 19 English Horse Dealer (to Irish liorse dealer from whom lie is buying a liorse). '• How 's IIE EKED? " Irish Dealer. "WELL, HOW WOULD YE LIKE HIM BRED? IF HE WAS FOB SIR PATHKICK UP AT THE CASTLE HE'D BE BY RED EAGLE OUT AV AN ASECTIC MARE, BUT YE CAN SUIT YERSILP." OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.) IF for nothing else, Mr. JACK LONDON'S latest story would deserve a welcome for its topicality. In these days of strikes and industrial conflict every one might be glad to know what a writer of his individuality has to say about unions and blacklegs and picketing. True, this is hardly the kind of thing that one has learnt to associate with his name ; and for that reason perhaps I best liked The Valley of the Moon (MILLS AND BOON) after its hero and heroine had shaken the unsavoury dust of the town from their feet and set them towards the open country. But much had to happen first. The hero was big Billy Roberts, a teamster with the heart of a child and the strength of a prize-fighter — which was in fact his alternative profession. He married Saxon Brown ("a scream of a name" her friend called it when introducing them to each other), and for a time their life together was as nearly idyllic as newly-wedded house- keeping in a moan street could permit it to bo. Then came the lean years: strikes and strike-breaking, sabotage and rioting, prison for Billy, and all but starvation for Saxon. Perhaps you know already that peculiar gift of Mr. JACK LONDON'S that makes you not only see physical hardship but sufl'er it? I believe that after these chapters the reader of them will never again ba able to regard a newspaper report of street-lighting with the same detachment as before, so vivid are they, so haunting. In the end, how- ever, as I say, we find a happier atmosphere. The adven- tures of liillij and Soj'on, tramping it in search of a home, soon make their urban terrors seem to them and the reader a kind of nightmare. Hero Mr. LONDON is at his delightful best, and his word-pictures of country scenes are as freaii and fine as anything he has yet done. The Valley of the Moon, in short, is really two stories — one grim, one pleasant, and both brilliantly successful. It is perhaps a mistake to read a novel at a sitting, since the reaction is too sudden and the reader is apt to find the real life and the real people surrounding him highly unsatis- factory by contrast. Mr. JAMES PKOSPER has reduced mo to this state by The Mountain Apart (HEINEMANN), but it is my duty as critic to disregard my personal feelings and judge impartially between the fictitious and the actual. Duty, then, compels me to say that the Mi: Henry Harding who at the last solved all the difficulties of Hose Hilton by the simple expedient of a romantic proposal is a hollow fraud. The position was this: Rose was a woman of flesh and blood and all the human limitations, blessed and cursed with all the intricacies allotted by Providence to the sex. Her trouble was that she had to face life as it is, and this she found very trying. She suffered from her marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather, and from her abortive grapplings both with the abstract problems of her soul and the concrete mischiefs of her female friends. The influence of IUSKN and a militant Suffragette didn't help her medita- tions, and when her husband died she had the mortification to find that the first man of her own age who professed love to her was no man but a series of artistic poses. Of her difficulties, real enough up to this point, the solution was the fraudulent Henri/, fraudulent because he was just a stage hero whoso actions and conversation resembled nothing on earth. Henry, in fact, is the sort of person that doesn't exist, and, if he did, would be intolerable to everybody except a novel reader worked up to a climax. I doubt if even such a reader could stand the fellow on a 20 PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON ClIAftlVARI. [JANUABY 7, I'Jl I. longer acquaintance. To this conclusion all must come in their saner moments, and yet most will, I think, finish the book in one spell and be under the delusion at the end of it that all their troubles would be solved at once if only their friends would talk and conduct themselves more like Henry. In Theodore Roosevelt : an Autobiography (MACMILLAN) the ex-President shows us how it was done : how he started life as a weakly lad and by perseverance made himself what he is to-day. But what is lie? That is the insoluble problem. No two people, least of all Americans, seem to agree on the point. I have heard Mr. ROOSEVELT called everything from since it is difficult to understand why anyone so British iu her independence and aloofness should have surrendered her heart to the first good-looking Frenchman who came her way, we never get to be on very intimate terms with that organ. The construction of the story tends to break up the action and make its interest desultory. While we are spending a hundred odd pages at one time and fifty odd at another in Paris and Brittany we forget, very contentedly, about Oriel; and while we are in residence at Oxford wo are practically cut off — no doubt, to our spiritual gain — from the things of France. The authors seem to belong to the solid old-fashioned school that had a charlatan to the Saviour of his Country. For myself, if | the patience to spread itself and leave as little as might be i may intrude my own view, I have always admired the to the imagination. I suspect one of them of supplying "Bull Moose." But, since nobody on this earth, in America the foreign information and the other of being the- corre- ct out of it, can really understand American politics, my spondcnt on home and clerical affairs. I don't know how respect lias been for Mr. ROOSEVELT'S private rather than many of them — if any — are women, but I seem to trace a his public performances. And in the view that he is, take female hand in some of the domestic details. But the him all round, a pretty good sort of man, this book has confirmed me. lie has told his story well. Nor is the Power of the Human " I " too much in evidence. It is just a simple, straight- forward, tale of a parti- cularly interesting life. \Vhatever your views on Mr. ROOSEVELT may be, the fact remains that ho has boon a cowbo\r, a police commissioner of Now York, a soldier on active service, and the President of God's Country, sub ; and a man must have an unusually negative per- sonality if he cannot make entertainment- for us out of that. Now nobody has ever sus- pected Mr. ROOSEVELT of a negative per- book contains strong matter, too — both of narrative and charac- terization; as in the dying of Armand (it1 Id- j lioche-Giiyon, and the j picture of his lover, | Madame cle Vigcrie. i And there is something j of the inspiration of | the Holy Grail in that i "Vision Splendid" which heartens Tris- Irain Hungerfonl to make sacrifice of his passion that he may give his soul unshared to the service of the Church. IMPRESSIOS OF A FOOTBALL MATCH GATHERED FEOM OUR ILLUSTRATED DAILY sonality; and it is certain that he has told a very enter- taining story. There are in this volume battle, murder, biiclden death, outlaws, cowboys, boars, American politics, Until I had read Mr. A. RADCLYKFE DUG- MOKE'S book and re- velled in his most won- derful photographs I had never wished to be a caribou ; but now and the author's views on the English blackbird, all hand- caribous (for, as the author says, "In England it is quite the somcly illustrated, and the price is only what you would (or would not) pay for a stall to see a musical comedy. It 's a bargain. that I have fully digested The. Eomancc. of the Newfoundland Caribou (HKINKMANN) there is only one animal whoso lot in life I really envy. This is due not to a natural sympathy with Between the rising of the partisans of the Duchesse m: BKHKI and the dawn of the Tractarian movement there would not seem, at first blush, to be any very close associa- tion apart from the coincidence of their dates ; yet in The Vision Splendid (MUURAY), by D. K. BHOSTEK and G. W. TAYLOR, a link is furnished in the person of an English clergyman's daughter, who marries a Frenchman of the "Legitimist" aristocracy, and is loved, before and after- wards, by an enthusiastic disciple of the Oriel Common Room. But the link is too slight to give a proper unity to the tale; and we have to fall back upon contrasts. Even so, the two modes of life which made up, between them, the exparienco of the Comtesse. de la Jiochc-Gw/on\ that it is true. If I ever have to argue about the habits of (nfe lloratia Grcmnlle) are too cleanly severed by the caribous, there is one shot that will remain in my locker brought into sharp anti- until the very end of the argument, and it will be, " Well, of the one woman. And, DUGMOHE says so." exception to find anyone who knows what tho caribou is, unless ho happens to have been to Newfoundland or certain parts of Canada," and I was never one of the exceptions), but to the extraordinary manner in which Mr. DuOMOBK has imparted the affection that he himself entertains for his chosen beast. Although ho shoots with no more formid- able a weapon than a camera, the dangers and risks that ho has run would appal many of the sportsmen whose aim is to destroy and not to study the lives of animals. He has, however, no contempt for hunters, provided that they will play the game and give a fair chance to their quarry. Another point in his favour, which appeals mightily to me, is that after nins consecutive seasons in Newfoundland he confesses that his knowledge of the caribou is still incomplete. This means that, when he does make an absolute statement, you may be pretty certain estranging Channel to be thesis, except in the heart JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 21 CHARIVARIA. Wi<: hear that the CHANCELLOR lias, Not sixty people visited " La Gio- conda " on one of the days after her return to Paris, when a charge of four while in North Africa, been making a shillings was made for admission, and, close study of camels, with a view to j towards the end of the day, the smile is ascertaining the nature of the last straw said to have worn a rather forced look, which breaks their backs. Who are the best selling modern We It is denied that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, in order to give a practical demon- stration of his belief in the disarma- ment idea, has given instructions that all precautions against attacks on him by Suffragettes are to be discontinued. ::: : :S The Balkan situation is considered to have undergone a change for the worse owing to the purchase by Turkey of the For our- authors? are asks a contemporary. do not like to mention names, but, as readers, we have been sold by several popular writers lately. We are not surprised that many persons are becoming rather disgusted with our little amateurish attempts at Winter. Thousands now go to Switzer- land, and Sir ERNEST SHACKLETON is going even further afield. Meanwhile Dreadnought Bio de Janeiro. selves we cannot subscribe to this view. Is it likely that the Turks, after paying over £2,000,000 for her, will risk losing this valuable vessel in war? , , •!- On the day of the marriage of the Teuton Coal-King's daughter to Lord EEDES- DALE'S son last week there was snow on the ground. The Goal-King must have shown up very well against it- * ' ,;: Sir EEGINALD BRADE is to be the new permanent secre- tary at the War Office. Let 's hope he has no connection with the firm of Gold Brade and Bed Tape. It has been discovered that members of a certain Eskimo tribe have an extra joint in their waists. The news has caused . the Government does nothing to stem the greatest excitement among cannibal i this emigration, tribes all over the world, and it is j expected that there will be a huge de- The boxing craze among the French mand for these people. Where there continues. M. VEDBINES, the intrepid are big families to feed the extra joint i aviator, has taken it up and been will be invaluable. PANTOMIME FAUNA. Extract from the note-book of tlte dramatic critic of " Tlie Wamplon Clarion" :— cake was eaten which had been put away on their marriage day in 1863. " *"" A soap combine, with a nominal capital of £35,000,000, is said to have been formed to exploit China, and the Mongols may yet cease to be a yellow race. ... ... The latest tall story from America is to the effect that some burglars who broke into the Presbyterian church at Syracuse, New York, stole a parcel of sermons. = ; YOUNG MOTHER'S SWAN-SONG. [" It was better for a young mother to start her new chapter unhampered : the less she knew the better it was for her." _ Mrs. Annie Swan.'] How do you take a baby up ? What does it like to eat ? Do you put rusks in a feeding cup? Have you to mince its meat? Haven't I heard them speak of pap ? Isn't there caudle too ? How do you keep the thing on your lap ? W hy are its eyes askew ? Is it a touch of original sin Causes an infant to squall, Or trust misplaced in a safety-pi a Lost in the depths of a shawl ? When do you "shorten" a growing child (Is it so much too long) ? Should legs be lopped or the scalp be filed ? Both in a sense seem * * * "OUR RESOLUTION IS TO GO FORWARD IN THE NEW YEAR." advertises the London General Omni- bus Co. A capital idea, this. Vehicles which simply go backwards are never so satisfactory. ., ^ * After one - hundred - and - fifty-years' careful consideration the War Office has given permission to the Black Watch and the King's Eoyal Eifle Corps to bear on their regimental colours the honorary distinction " North America, 1763-64," in recognition of services rendered during the war against the Bed Indians. practising on M. Eoux's ears. * * * CROWN The German become a member of Cabinet Makers' Union. PRINCE has the Dan/ig Later on he hopes to become a Chancellor-maker. :!: •.;: Another impending apology ? Head- lines from The Daily Chronicle : — "PNEUMONIA ON THE RAND. DISCOVERY OF ITS CAUSE. SIR ALMROTH WHIGHT'S VACCINE TREATMENT." * >:; Could frugality go further ? At the golden wedding celebrations of a Southend couple, a packet of wedding wrong. " Kitchy," I think I have heard them say ; What shall I make it kitch ? " Bo " I believe in a mystic way Frightens or soothes, but which ? Didn't I see one once reversed. Patted about the spine ? Is it the way they should all be nursed ? Will it agree with mine? Surely its gums are strangely bare? Why does it dribble so? Will reason dawn in that glassy stare If I dandle it briskly ? OH ! ! ! Grandmothers ! Mothers ! or Instinct, yon I Haste with your secret lore! What, oh what shall I, what shall I do? Baby has crashed to the floor! " They adjourned to the Village Hell, where each child was presented with a parcel of suitable clothing." — Tonbridge Free Press. Asbestos, no doubt. •2-2 PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON C1LUUVAKI. I.JANUAKY 14, 19M. A PRANCING PRUSSIAN. (Shelving hoiv Colonel ro.v REVTER, late of Zabern, appealed to his regiment to (It fend the honour of the At my. The. following speech is based -upon evidence ijiren at the Strassburg trial.) MY Prussian braves, on whom devolves the mission To vindicate our gallant Army's worth, Upholding in its present proud position The noblest fighting instrument on earth — • If, in your progress, any vile civilian Declines the homage of the lifted hat, Your business is to paint his chest vermilion- Kindly attend to that. Never leave barracks, when you go a-shopping, Without an escort loaded up with lead; Always maintain a desultory popping At anyone who wags a wanton head ; If, as lie passes, some low boy should .whistle With nose in air and shameless chin out-thrust, Making your scandalised moustaches bristle — Reduce the dog to dust. I hear a sinister and shocking rumour Touching the native tendency to chaff. If you should meet with specimens of humour See that our soldiers get the final laugh ; Fling the facetious corpses in the fountains So as the red blood overflows the brink; Keep on until the blue Alsatian mountains Turn a reflective pink. Should any female whom your shadow touches Grudge you the glad, but deferential, eye; Should any cripple fail to hold bis crutches At the salute as you go marching by ; Draw, in the KAISER'S name — 'tis rank high treason ; Stun them with sabre-strokes upon the poll; Then dump them (giving no pedantic reason) Down cellars with the coal. Be on your guard against all people strolling In cues or twos about the public square Hard by your quarters; set your men patrolling; Ask every knave what he is doing there ; And, if in your good wisdom you determine To view their conduct in a dangerous light, Bring the machine-guns out and blow the vermin Into the Ewiykeit. Enough ! I leave our honour in your keeping. What are your bright swords for except to slay ? Preserve their lustre; let me see them leaping Out of their scabbards twenty times a day ; Unless wo smash these craven churls like crockery To prove our right of place within the sun, Our martial prestige has become a mockery And Deutschland's day is done! O. S. "The dancing, in the conventional bullet style, of Miss Sybil Roe was quite good."— Wiltshire Times. "We confess that the bullet style is too fast for us. :l In all the best dress ateliers classic evening gowns are now bein., exhibited, and in many of these the lines of the corsage closely resemble the draperies to be seen on the Venus do Milo." Daily Mail. We must go and look at the Venus de Milo's corsage again. THE NEW JOURNAL-INSURANCE. [Several newspapers have been roused to a sense of their duties to .'ir readers by the insurance competition between The Clirunii-lf and The Mail. Yv'e make a few preliminary announcements of ulh'T insurance schemes which are not yet contemplated.] VOTES FOR WOMEX. — A copy of the current issue nu to your front doer insures you absolutely against arson. Tin-: STAII. — All regular subscribers to The Slur are insured with the propiietors of The J)tii!i/ A'ews for £1,000 in the event of being welshed on any race-course. THE NATIONAL REVIEW. — Annual subscribers to Ihe' Rational lie-view are guaranteed £10,000 in the event of1 being («) robbed on the highway by a member of the ' present Ministry; (b) defrauded by a member of the present • Ministry; (c) having house burgled by member of the present Ministry; (d) having pocket picked by member of present Ministry ; always excluding any act or acts done by the CHANCELLOB OF THE EXCHEQUER in a strictly official . capacity. THE CHVRCH TIMES. — All regular subscribers are insured for £500 against excommunication. £1,CC() will be paid to the heirs or assigns of any reader who loses his head in ;i, conflict with a Bishop (Deans, Rural Deans, Canons and Archdeacons being excepted from the benefit of this clause in the policy). THE ENGLISH REVIEW. — Poetic contributors are insured for £500 in the event of a prosecution under the Blasphemy Laws. THE DAILY E.\I'HE*H. — You can sleep soundly in your bed, you can sleep soundly in your train, if the current issue of The Daily Express be on your- person. All purchasers arc insured for £10,COO against any conflagra- tions or explosions caused by bombs or combustibles dropped from German airships. THE BRITISH WEEKLY. — All readers of The Jirilish Weekly are insured for £1,000 in the event of heart-failure caused by shock while reading the thrilling stories provided by SILAS, JOSEPH, TIMOTHY and JEREMIAH HOCKING. THE RECORD. — £500 will be paid to any annual sub- scriber forcibly detained in a convent, provided that at the time of such detention a copy of the current issue of The /iVri 'id be in his possession. £1,000 will ho paid to the legal representatives of any reader burnt at the stake. Tin: Ciiii'ci.ETH CHRONICLE.— £3 a week for life, to- gether with a poultry farm on a Sutherland deer-forest, to the owner of any shorn lamb which is found dead in a snow-drift with a copy of the current issue wrapt round it, to keep it warm. The great world rolls on, but of the master-brains which direct its movement the man in the street knows nothing. He has never heard of the Clerk of the Portland Urban District Council; he is entirely ignorant of Army Order 701. "Dear Sir" (writes tho Clerk) — "A meeting of the Underbill Members of the Council will be held to-morrow (Saturday), at 3 o'clock p.m., in Spring Gardens (Fortune-swell) for tho. purpose of selecting a site for the Telegraph Post." "With effect from 1st January, 1914" (says the Arm-y Order) " rewifrging of gun sponges will l>e done by the Ordnance Department' instead of locally as at present." " Inman was seen to greater advantage at yesterday afternoon's session in this match of 18, COO up, in Kdinburgh, than on any! previous day of the match, scoring 1,083 while Aikeu was aggregating! the mentally afflicted." — Nottingham Guardian. One must amuse oneself somehow while the other man isj at the table. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 14, 1914. A SEA-CHANGE. TOR* CHORUS (to WISSTOH). " YOU 'YE MADE ME LOVE YOU ; I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT." JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 25 Amiable Uncle (doing some conjuring to amuse Mm children), " SEE, HERE I HAVE A BILLIARD BALL — I AM GOING TO TURN 11 ISTO SOMETHING ELSE." First Bored Youngster (to scamd ditto). " WHY SHOULD HE? IT'S A VEEY NICE BALL." WHAT TO TELL AN EDITOR. IN view of The Daily Mail's praise- worthy efforts to instruct applicants for situations in the correct phrasing of letters to prospective employers, we propose to supply a similar long-felt want, and give a little advice as to the kind of letter it is desirable to enclose with contributions to periodicals. Begin your letter in a friendly vein, hoping the Editor and his people are pretty well. Kemeinber also that Editors like to know something of the charac- ters and histories of their contributors. So let your communication include a rcsuma of your personal and literary career. Don't fall into the error of i nuking your letter too concise. The following suggestions may serve to indicate some of the lines of thought that you might follow : — • (1) State where you sent your first manuscript. (2) What you thought of it, and of ilie Editor who returned it. (3) Your height and chest measure- ment (an Editor likes to be on the safe side). (4) State who persuaded you to take up literature, and give height and chest measurement of same. (5) Give a short but optimistic de- scription of your contribution, not to exceed in length the contribution itself. (6) State whether literary genius is rife in your family or has been rife at any time since 10t>6. (7) Give a list of journals to which you have already sent the en- closed contribution, and state your reasons for supposing that the Editors were misguided. Hint that perhaps, after all, their lack of enterprise was fortunate for the present recipient. (8) Mention your hobbies and the different appointments you have held since the age of twelve, witli names and addresses of employers. Also give your reasons for remaining as long as you did in each situation. (9) State how long you have been a subscriber to the journal you are electing to honour, and whether you think it's worth the money. Point out any little improvements you con- sider desirable in its compilation, and mention other periodicals as perfect examples. Preface these remarks with some such phrase as this : " Pray don't think I want to teach you your business, but — (10) Give full list (names and ad- dresses) of friends who have promised to buy the paper if your contribution appears. (11) Give a brief outline, in faultless English, of your religious, political and police court convictions, your views on Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, and any ideas you may have about the Law of Copyright. Finally, enclose a stamped and addressed envelope for the return of your article. " It lias always been supposed that Charles I. when Prince of Wales and travelling incognito with the Duke of Buckingham saw and fell in love with Marie Antoinette." Not by us. We always supposed he fell iii. love with SARAH BERNHARDT. 26 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [.JANUARY 14, 1914. THE SAME OLD STORY. \\K stood in a circle round the parrot's cage and gazed with interest at its occupant. She (Kvangelinc) \v;is balancing easily on one leg, while with the other leg and her beak she tried to peel a monkey-nut. There are some of us who hate to ho watched at meals, particularly when dealing with the dessert, but Evangeline is not of our number. " There," said Mrs. Atherley, "isn't she a beauty ? " I felt that, as the last to be intro- duced, I ought to say something. "What do you say to a parrot?" I whispered to Miss Atherley. " Have a banana," suggested Archie. "I believe you say, ' Scratch-a-poll,' " said Miss Atherley, " but I don't know why." "Isn't that rather dangerous? Sup- pose it retorted ' Scratch your own,' I shouldn't know a bit how to go on." "It can't talk," said Archie. "It's quite a baby — only seven months old. But it 's no good showing it your watch ; you must think of some other way of amusing it." " Break it to me, Archie. Have I been asked down solely to amuse the parrot, or did any of you others want to see me?" " Only the parrot," said Archie. Evangeline paid no attention to us. She continued to wrestle with the monkey-nut. I should say that she was a bird not easily amused. " Can't it really talk at all? " I asked Mrs. Atherley. "Not yet. You see, she's only just come over from South America, and isn't used to the climate yet." "Just the p;rsou you'd expect to talk a lot about the weather. I believe you 'vo been had. Write a little note to the poulterers and ask if you can change it. You've got a bad one by mistake." " We got it as a bird," said Mrs. Atherley with dignity, " not as a gramo- phone." The next morning Evangelino was as silent as ever. Miss Atherley and I surveyed it after breakfast. It was still grappling with a monkey-nut, but no doubt a different one. "Isn't it cw going to talk?" I asked. "Really, I thought parrots were con- tinually chatting." " Yes, but they have to be taught — just like you teach a baby." "Are jou sure? I quite sro that you have to teach them any special things you want them to say, hut I thought they were all born with a few simple obvious remarks, like ' Poor Polly,' or — or 'Dash LLOYD GEOROK.'" "I don't think so," said Miss Ather- ley. " Not the green ones." At dinner that evening, Mr. Atherley being now with us, the question of Evangcline's education was seriously- considered. " The only proper method," began Mr. Atherley " By the way," he said, turning to me, " you don't know anything about parrots, do you?" " No," I said. " You can go on quite safely." "The only proper method of teaching a parrot — 1 got this from a man in the City this morning — is to give her a word at a time, and to go 011 repeating it over and over again until she 's got hold of it." " And after that the parrot goes on repeating it over and over again until you 've got sick of it," said Archie. " Then wo shall have to be very care- ful what word we choose," said Mrs. Atherley. " What is your favourite word ? " " Well, really - "Animal, vegetable or mineral?" asked Archie. "This is quite impossible. Every word by itself seems so silly." " Not ''home ' and ' mother,' " I said reproach fully. " You shall recite your little piece in the drawing -room afterwards," said Miss Atherley to me. " Think of something sensible now." " Yes," said Mrs. Atherley. " What's the latest word from London ? " " Kikuyu." " What ? " "I can't say it again," I protested. " If you can't even say it twice, it 's no good for Evangeline." A thoughtful silence fell upon us. " Have you fixed on a name for her yet ? " Miss Atherley asked her mother. " Evangeline, of course." " No, 1 mean a name for her to call you. Because if she 's going to call you ' Auntie ' or ' Darling,' or whatever you decide on, you 'd better start by teaching her that." And then I had a brilliant idea. " I 've got the very word," I said. " It 's 'hallo.' You see, it's a pleasant form of greeting to any stranger, and it will go perfectly with the next word that she 's taught, whatever it may he." " Supposing it 's ' wardrobe,' " sug- gested Archie, " or ' sardine'? " " Why not ? ' Hallo, Sardine ' is the perfect title for a revue. Witty, subtle, neat — probably the great brain of the Revue King has aho.idy evolved it, and is planning the opening scene." "Yes, 'hallo' isn't at all bad," said Mr. Atherley. "Anyway, it's better than ' Poor Polly,' which is simply morbid. Let 's fix on ' hallo.' " " Good," said Mrs. Atherloy. Evangeline said nothing, being asleep under her blanket. ••:• :-• :!: * * I was down first next morning, having forgotten to wind up my watch overnight. Longing for company J took the blanket off Evangeline's cage and introduced her to the world again. She stirred sleepily, opened her eyes and blinked at me. " Hallo, Evangelino," I said. She made no reply. Suddenly a splendid scheme occurred to me. I would teach Evangeline her word now. How it would surprise the others when they came down and said " Hallo " to her, to find themselves promptly answered back ! "Evangeline," I said, "listen. Hallo, hallo, hallo, hallo." I stopped a moment and went on more slowly. "Hallo— hallo— hallo." It was dull work. "Hallo," I said, " hallo— hallo- hallo," and then very distinctly, "Hal-fo." Evangeline looked at me with an utterly bored face. " Hallo," I said, " hallo— hallo." She picked up a monkey nut and ate it languidly. "Hallo," I went on, "hallo, hallo . . . hallo, hallo, HALLO, HALLO . . . hallo, hallo — She dropped lier nut and roused herself for a moment. "Number engaged," she snapped, and took another nut. You needn't believe this. The others didn't when I told them. A. A. M. From " Notes, Questions and An- swers " in T.P.'s Weekly : — • " Author wanted, and where the whole poem can be found : — " Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I'll not ask for wine." ('. E. H. [Flerrick. A collected edition o! the poems is published by J. M. Dent at Is. net. — ED. N.Q.A.]" Afterthought by ED. N.Q.A. : " At least I think it 's HKRRICK ... or WORDS- WORTH . . . but wait till the Editor comes back from Algiers. He 's sure to know." " Sir John Thornycroft kicked oft in a foot- ball charity match at Beinbridge, Islo of Wight, in which the combined ages of the players was 440 years." — Hull Daily Mail. Why not ? " M. Timiriazeff, president of the Anglo- IJritisli Chamber of Commerce, followed with a speech." — L'aili/ Telegraph. Wo like his Anglo-British name. JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 27 WINTER SPORTS. additional aspects of the fashionable topic that seem to have escaped the irriters of similar articles in. our contemporaries.] (I.) — BUYING THE HOTEL. Fou this' game several players are required, who form themselves into one or more parties according to numbers. A player, preferably a woman, is selected as leader, and should possess nerve, coolness, and an authoritative voice. The object of the game is to secure (1) The best rooms ; (2) Tables with a view; (3) The controlling interest in all projects of entertainment. It is an important advantage for the leader to have stayed in the hotel at least once previously. If she is able to announce on arrival, " Here we are as usual ! " and to greet the proprietor and staff' by name, this often gives an initial blow exceedingly hard to parry. English visitors have been proving very adept at the sport this season, with Americans a good second. The German game, on the contrary, is slower and loss subtle. (II.) — SPOTTING THE PARSON. An amusing game that has been very popular at many Swiss resorts lately, and one that calls for the qualifications of a quick brain and a keen eye. The universal adoption of sweaters and woollen caps makes the task of the players one of considerable difficulty. Envelope-reading should be forbidden by the rules, and some codes even debar the offering of a Church Times to a suspected stranger. The A thmce.um and Spectator may, however, be freely em- ployed as bait. A simpler version of the same sport called " How MANY SCHOOLMASTERS '.' " is often indulged in between December 20th and January 15th, after which latter date it loses its point. Other games, seldom chronicled but requiring at least as much skill from their votaries as the better known varieties, are EARLY MORNING SKI-BAGGING — at which the Germans frequently carry all before them — and PRESSING THE PRESS- PHOTOGRAPHER, where the object of all the players is to appear recognizably in a snap-shot for the illustrated journals. At this the record score of three weekly and live daily papers has been held for two successive seasons by the same player, a gentleman whose dexterity is the subject of universal admiration. THE WONDER ZOO. CANADA has evolved a novelty described as a " new beef animal," which is a blend of the domestic cow and the North American bison. The resulting prodigy lias the ferocious bump and shoulders of the bison, with the mildly benevolent face of the Herefordshire ox. It must not, how- ever, be supposed that the old country is behind-hand in such experiments, as witness the following : — Billingsgate salesmen have lately been supplied with advance copies of the new" Codoyster fish. This epicurean triumph, which owes its existence to the research of several eminent specialists, is the result of a blend of the North Sea cod and the finest Whitstable native. The result is said to reproduce in a remarkable degree the succulent qualities of the original fish when eaten with oyster sauce, and caterers are sure to welcome the combination of these popular items in so handy a form. Several fine examples of the Soho chicken have lately appeared upon the show benches at various important poultry contests. This ingenious creation, which has long been familiar to the patrons of our less expensive restaurants (hence the name), is said to possess qualities of endurance SCIOIE — Interior of box at Fancy Dress Ball. Host of Party. "I SAY, BETTY, I WANT TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A ClTT FRIEND OF MINE, M.R. JONES." Jlmtcas (liospitably). "How D'YOU DO? OH, YOU'RE AWFULLY GOOD! " Host (sotto I-OCC). "TAKE CARE ! HE 's NOT MADE UP AT ALL." superior to anything previously on the mai'ket. Its muscular development is phenomenal, while the entire elimination of the liver, and the substitution of four extra drum-sticks for the ordinary wings and thighs, are noteworthy characteristics. Success in another branch of the same endeavour is shown in the latest report of the Society for the Prolonga- tion of Dachshunds. According to this the worm-ideal seems at last to be in sight, careful inter-breeding having now produced a variety called the Processional, selected specimens of which take from one to two minutes in passing any given spot. The almost entire disappearance of legs is another attractive feature. Meanwhile Major-Gen. Threebottle writes from Oporto Lodge, Baling, strongly protesting against any further complication of the fauna of these islands, and pointing out that the simple snakes and cats of our youth were already sufficiently formidable to a nervous invalid like him- self without the addition of such objectionable novelties. " Without warning, while the car was travelling at about fifteen miles per hour, the tyro of the front wheel burst." — Scotsman. Our tyres are much better trained, and each of the four gives a distinctive cough before bursting. "WAREHOUSEMAN (jun.), clothing dopt., large corporation." Advt. in " Glasgow Jlerald." Tie should show off the new line in check waistcoats to the best advantage. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 14, 1914. THE SECRET OUT. AN INTERVIEW. HE had a coarse confident face, a red nose, a Cockney accent anil a raucous voice. He was dressed as a sluttish woman. Directly I saw him I was conscious of a feeling of repulsion, which I fear my expression must have indicated, for lie looked surprised. "Why aren't you laughing?" ho asked. " Why should I laugh ? " I asked in return. " Because you are looking at me," ho said. " 1 am accustomed to laughter the instant 1 appear." "Why?" "Because I am a funny man," he said. "How?" " 1 look funny," he said ; " 1 say funny things; 1 draw a good salary for it. If I wasn't funny I shouldn't draw a good salary, should I ? " " You do draw it," I said guardedly. " Be funny now." "'Wait till I catch you bending,'" he said with a violent grimace. " ' What ho ! 'Ave a drop of gin, ole dear ? ' ' " He funny now," I repeated. He looked bewildered. " I was being funny," he said. " I bring the house down with that, as a rule." " Where ? " " In panto," he said. "Oh!" I replied. "So you're the funny man of a pantomime, are you? " " Yes," he said. "Which one?" " All of them," he said. " Good," I replied. " I have long wanted a talk with you. There are things I want to ask you. Why, for instance, do you always pretend to be a grimy slum woman ? " " It seems to be expected," he said. " Who expects it ? The children ? " - What children?" "The children who go to panto- mimes," I said. "Oh, those! Well, they laugh," he replied evasively. " They like to see you quarrelling with your husband and getting drunk? " "They laugh," he said. " They like to hear you, as an Ugly Sister in Cinderella, singing ' Father 's on the boo/o again ; mother 's oil her chump ' ? " "They laugh," he said. " They like to see you as the wife of Ali Baba, finding pawntickets in your husband's pockets and charging him with spending his money on flappers?" "They laugh," he said. " They like to see you, as The Widow Twankay, visit a race meeting and get welshed and have your clothes torn oft' ? " " They laugh," he said. " They like to see you, as Diuk Whit- tington's mother, tolling the cat that, if In- must eat onions, at any rate he can refrain from kissing her? " "They laugh," he said. " They like to see you, as the dame in Goody Two Shoes, open a night club on the strict understanding that it is only for clergymen's daughters in need of recreation? " "They laugh," ho said again. " But they don't know what you mean ? " " No. But I 'm funny. That 's what you don't seem to understand. 1 'in so funny that everything I say and do makes them laugh. It doesn't, in fact, matter irliat I say." " Ah ! " I replied, " I have you there! In that case why don't you say a few simpler and sweeter things ? " He seemed perplexed. " Things," I explained, " that don't want quite so much knowledge of the seamy side of life ? " "Go on!" he said derisively. "I haven't got time to mug that up. I 've got my living- to get. You don't sup- pose I invent my jokes, do you ? I collect them. I 'm on the Halls the rest of the year, and I bear them there. There hasn't been a new joke in a pantomime these twenty years. But what you don't seem to get into your head, mister, is the fact that I make them laugh. Laugh. I 'm a scream, I tell you." " And laughter is all you want ? " I asked. " I must either make people laugh or get ' the bird.' " " But hasn't it ever occurred to you," I said, " that children in a theatre at Christmas time are entitled to have a little fun that is not wholly connected with sordid domestic affairs and pot- house commonness ? " "Never," he said, and I believed him. " Haven't you children of your own? " " Several." " And is that how you amuse them at home? " "Of course not. They 're too young." " How old are they ? " " From six to thirteen." " But that 's the ago of the children who go to pantomimes," I suggested. "Well, it's different in your own home," ho said. " Besides," ho added, " it isn't children I aim at in my jokes. There 's other things for them : the fairy ballets, the comic dog." " And what is the audience you aim at?" I asked. "I suppose there is one definite figure you have in your mind's eye?" " Yes," ho said, " there is one. The person in the audience that I always aim at is the silly servant-girl in the front row of the gallery. That 's why I so often say ' girls ' before 1 make a joke. You 'vo heard me, haven't you? " " Haven't I ? " I groaned. THE GAME LICENCE. IT was yesterday afternoon, towards the close of the last beat of our annual cover shoot, that I perceived a fellow in a yellow waterproof popping up his head from time to time (at no little risk to his life) over a dyke some way behind the line of guns. As soon as the heaters came out he advanced and introduced himself as an Excise Officer, asking "if this would be a convenient moment to examine the game licences of the party." It was not at all a convenient moment for Walter — who hadn't got one. My thoughts flew at once to Walter in this crisis, for I knew he was bound to be had. Walter never does have game licences, season tickets, ad- hesive labels, telegraph forms or things of that sort. And as he had only returned from Canada two days before and this was the first time that he had been out, and further as he immediately disappeared and hid behind the hedge, I knew that my worst suspicions must be confirmed. While the Excise Officer was taking down the names and ad- dresses of the rest of the party I went after Walter. He was sitting in the ditch with his head in his hands. "If this had happened a few years ago, old chap," he said, " when 1 was a younger man, I should have run for it. But to-day I believe that feller would overhaul me within half-a-mile. My wind's rotten. Do you think he'll find us here?" "Yes," said I, "he is coming this way." Walter got up. " There must be some way out of it," he said thought- fully, " if one could only think of it." Then he boldly confronted his accuser. " Since you put it to mo," he said, "no, I have no game licence. But fortunately in my case it is not ne- cessary. I am exempt." The Officer stared at him a moment. " Certainly it is necessary," he said. " Kindly show me the form of this licence," said Walter in the most lordly, off-hand, de-haut-cn-bas tone of voice, and the Officer handed him one belong- ing to the Major, which he bad been scrutinizing. "This, I perceive," said Walter, when he had read it carefully, " is a licence or certificate to kill game. It doesn't apply to me." " Why not ? " JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARlVAKr. " Because I haven't killed any game." " Hut you liavo your gun in your hand at this moment." "That is so. This is ray gun. But where, I ask you, is my dead game? The truth is, my dear fellow," he went on, dropping his voice to a more con- lidential level, " though it 's pretty humiliating to have to admit it and all that, especially before the beaters — the I ruth is that I haven't hit a blamed i hing to-day, liotten, isn't it ? " Walter isn't much of a shot and there weren't many birds anyway, and lie hadn't been very lucky in his stands — and when one came to think it over one couldn't just exactly remember any- thing at all having fallen to his gun. " I call all these fellows to witness," said Walter most impressively, " that I have killed no game. If it pleases me to discharge my gun, at short inter- vals, for the sake of the bang — " You require a gun licence," said the Officer. " That is not the point. I may or may not have a gun licence, but our present controversy relates to a certifi- cate to kill game. Do not let us confuse the issue." It now appeared, however, that the Officer had been waiting behind the dyke rather longer than wo knew. " I myself," he said firmly, "saw you bring down a cock pheasant at the beginning of the last beat." Walter consulted the paper in his hand. " I observe," he said, " that this licence (or certificate) relates to killing game. There is nothing said of bring- ing it down. I may, as you say, have induced a cock pheasant to descend. I certainly didn't kill him. As a matter of fact he was lightly touched on the wing, and he ran like a hare." "He's in that patch of bracken there," said the Officer. " If you will send a keeper and a dog with me — " No, I can't do that," said Walter, "unless you can show me a written authority empowering you, in the KING'S name, to borrow keepers and dogs." It was then that the fun began. The Officer went off like a shot up the hillside, started the old cock, chased him up the ditch and through the hedge, and finally, to everyone's sur- prise and delight, collared him in a corner of the dyke. There were loud cheers from the enthusiastic crowd, but they were cut short by a sharp warning from Walter. " Be careful how you handle that bird, Sir!" he cried. "If anything happens to him I shall hold you re- sponsible. I have no reason to believe that you hold a licence (or certificate) to kill game. If he suffers a mortal jnjury I shall report you." THE FUTURE OF BRITISH BOXING. Itouijh (to policeman who lias knoi-kfd him down). "WELL, IT'S \YORF IT. To MI: BL,ONGS THK CHKDIT OF 'AVIN1 DISCOVERED A BLOOMIN1 WlIM'U 'Ol'E." The Officer began to look rather bewildered and the old cock flapped his wings. " I '11 thank you for that bird," said Walter firmly, and he took it and tucked it comfortably under his arm. " What are you going to do with it? " asked the Officer. "I am going to nurse it back to health and strength," said Walter. "It only requires a little close attention. I shall be happy if you will call in about a week's time to enquire. Good afternoon. I am very pleased to have met you." And Walter held out his hand. Well, that is where the matter rests. If Walter can keep the bird alive the case against him falls to the ground. If not, I suppose it means a three- pound licence and a ten-pound fine. Ho took him straight back to the Home Farm and secured for him dry and airy quarters in the poultry run, and did not leave him till he had seen to his comfort in every way and given minute directions as to his treat- ment. . . . I am afraid the old cock passed a rather restless night, but ho was able to take part of a warm mash, with two drops of laudanum in it, at an early hour this morning. At this moment I hear Walter getting out his motor- bicycle. I fancy he is going for the vet. Says Mr. CMCMKNT SHORTER : — "There is a journal in London which has the impertinence to call itself The Nation, but ... it docs not represent the merest fraction of our countrymen." Mr. SHORTEU'S own paper is called, more modestly, Tlic Kplii'i'*'. 30 PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON • GHAR1VA1U. [JANUARY 14, 1914. GETTING USED TO THE "SMILING EXPRESSION." OUR SUGGESTION FOB A SYSTEM OF ADVANCED PHYSICAL TRAINING FOB PRUSSIAN OFFICERS BEFORE TAKING UP COMMANDS IN THE ALSATIAN DISTRICT, WHERE TUB POPULACE is SAID TO BE ADDICTED TO HUMOUR. OLD FRIENDS. I WAS in the train because I had to go to Birmingham ; I was in the dining car because 1 had to dine. With all respect to the Company I cannot pre- tend that I regarded myself as doing anything remarkable or distinguished. The little man opposite me, however, felt differently. I have since been told that they of Birmingham are very proud of their non-stop train service by both routes. : "This, Sir," said the stranger, as I lowered my paper to help myself to a proffered roll — " this is one of the Two- Hour trains." " You don't say," said I politely but not encouragingly. "Two hours," lie repeated impres- sively. " Indeed ? Two whole hours and not a moment less?" and I returned to my paper pending the soup's arrival. ; "Is it not wonderful," he resumed when I was at his mercy again, " to be travelling at sixty miles an hour and eating soup at the same time ? " " Some people eafc soup," said I, " and some drink it. For myself, I give it a miss," and I returned to the news. With the fish : " I came up by the breakfast train this morning," said he, " and I now return by the dining train." Ho meant by this to give credit to the Company rather than to himself, but even so it seemed to fall short of the complete ideal. There was something wanting. It was luncheon, of course. "They run luncheon cars too," said ho. " Then there seems to be no reason why you should ever leave the train at all," I remarked, seeking refuge again in my paper. In spite, however, of my coldness, he continued to assail me with similar facts every time I emerged. Finally he took a sheet of slightly soiled paper and pencilled on it a schedule of our movements. It ran : — Mileage. 17* . 4GJ . 82J . 94J . 113 . Euston . Willesden Watford. Bletchley Rugby . Coventry Birmingham Timr. 6.55 r [7.4] [7.18] [7.50] [8.24] [8.36J 8.55 " To give this the very careful con- sideration it deserves," said I, "I must be left absolutely to myself." Later on, feeling that I had perhaps been rude, I offered the man a cigar by way of compensation. He accepted it as a mark of esteem and burst forth into more conversation. By now a little fed up with trains himself he suggested, for the sake of something new to say, that ho had met me before somewhere. At first I had some idea of asking for my cigar to be returned, but instead I gave in to his persistence. More, I joined in the conversation with an energy which surprised him. " Now I come to think of it we hare seen each other before; but where?" I said. He thought promiscuously, discon- nectedly and aloud. I could accept none of his suggestions because all referred to commercial rooms in pro- vincial hotels, places to which I have not the entree. " But I know now," I declared brightly ; " it was at a place just this side of London that I saw you first." PUNCH, .OR THE LONDON CHARIVARIS-JANUARY ,14, : 1914. THE SAND CAMPAIGN. SCENE — Algeria, on Ike border of the desert. THE ARAB AND THE CHANCELLOR WERE WALKING HAND-IN-HAND: THE LATTER WEPT A LOT TO SKK SUCH QUANTITIES OF SAND; "WHY ARE YOU HOLDING UP," HE SAID, THIS VERY FERTILE LAND?" JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 33 Harold (who has just been kitted by hit titter). "I SAY, I WONDER WHAT SHE'S UP TO?" J''rientl. " SIGN OF AFFECTION, ISN'T IT?" Harold. " -l;T/;r77(».v, YOU GOAT! SHE NEVER DOES THAT TILT. THE LAST DAY OF THE HOLS, AND THERE'S A WEEK TO GO YET." " First i1 " he asked. " Oh yes," said I. " I have seen you more than once. Surely you haven't forgotten that time at Watford ? " He felt that I had the advantage of him. " When was that? " ho asked. " Not very long after the first time ; and the next occasion I remember see- ing you was at a place called— -called— something beginning with a 15." lie was quite unable to cope with the situation. "And the next time," I continued, " I happened to lie passing through that town where the school is — you kno\v, Rugby. I distinctly recollect noticing then that you hadn't changed in the least since I last saw you." Ho couldn't decide whether to be more flattered at my remembering or more annoyed at his own forgetting. "Come, come," I exclaimed, "you surely cannot have forgotten that little chat we had at Coventry? " " Coventry ? " ho asked. " But how long ago was that? " " Quito recently," I asserted. " But I haven't set foot in Coventry for years," said he. " Nor have I, ever," said I. I could understand his feelings thoroughly. It might be that I was a liar ; it might be that I was a lunatic. In either case he did not wish to con- verse further with me. Happily, I had two newspapers available. As the speed of our train, in which of old he had taken such a pride, began to slacken : " And I shouldn't be sur- prised," I said from behind my paper, " if you and I saw each other again quite soon. The world is a small place and these things soon develop into a habit." He made no answer from behind his paper. " If you ask me when and whore " (as in fact he didn't), " I should say it is just as likely as not to happen at Birming- ham at about 8.55 I'.M.," 1 estimated, relying upon his own schedule. "The play was preceded by ' The £12 Hook,' another Barrio comedy of more recent date." Hi/ditei/ Miirniiiij Herald. Wo should prefer to call it " The £12 Eye." '•LABOUR IN SOUTH AFRICA. BLACK OUTLOOK." Mtiniing Post. Let us hear both sides. What is the White Outlook ? ' • Tho grievance of the men is in regard to the rate of pay. They are paid 6Jd. per hair.'' <llnKi/ou> News. And then when they are old and bald thev have to starve. '•TANGO RAPIDLY DYING. DANCE UPHELD BY MB. MAX PEMBEIITON." Daily Chronicle. This is the sort of thing that the Revue King has to put up with. Truly the lot of royalty is not an enviable one. From an advertisement of Tango matinees in The Lyceum: — " KKHKRVKD TAUTENILS (4 first rows) 10/ TAUTENII.S (tea included) 7/C TAVTENILS (tea not included) C| " Gourmet (planking down his scven-and- si.r). " Tea and tautenils, please." Seen on a Liverpool hoarding : — "Quo Vadis: Whither goest thou in eight reels ? ' ' Aiisicfr. "Anywhere in reason, but not home." 34 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. (JANUARY 14, 1914. IN THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. WEARY of the struggle and the squalors Which beset the politician's life — • Work that for a modicum of dollars Brings a whole infinity of strife — Three of England's most illustrious cronies Started on a winter holiday, With no thought of MURRAY or Marconis — GEORGE and HENRY and the great TAY PAY. Never since J^NEAS and his raiders 1 Stayed with DIDO in the days of yore Did such irresistible invaders Land upon the Carthaginian shore. GEORGE, of course, the largest crowds attended, But I 'in told the kind Algerians say That ^ENKAS wasn't half so splendid Or so pious as the good TAY PAY. Noble sheikhs and black and bearded Bashas Bowed, ivheno'er they met them, to the ground ; Festas and fantasias and tamashas Followed in a never-ending round. GEORGE no more on his detractors brooded ; HENRY simply sang the livelong day ; While unmixed benevolence exuded From the loving heart of kind TAY PAY. Side by side they read the works of HICHENS; Hand in hand they sampled the bazaars ; Ate the sweetmeats cooked in native kitchens ; Flew about in sumptuous motor-cars ; Golfed where once great HANNIBAL was scheming ; Joked where luckless DIDO once held sway ; For the finest jokes were always streaming From the lips of comical TAY PAY. Other days they spent in caracoling, Mounted each upon a mettled barb. Or along the streets serenely strolling Clad in semi-oriental garb ; HENRY with a cummerbund suburban ; GEORGE disguised to look like ENVER BEY; While a kilt surmounted by a turban Veiled the massive contours of TAY PAY. Daily they partook of ripe and juicy Fruit, and Mocha coffee and kibobs ; Daily they conversed with EL SENOUSSI And a lot of other native nobs ; HENHY practised Algerine fandangos ; GEORGE upon the tom-tom learned to play; And a dervish taught ten Arab tangos To the light fantastical TAY PAY. Whither will they wander next, I wonder? Not, I hope and pray, within the reach Of the tribes who live on loot and plunder, Fanatics who practise what they preach. Fancy if these horrible disturbers, Swooping on our countrymen astray, Touaregs and Bedouins and Berbers, Carried off the succulent TAY PAY ! Hardly had this agonizing presage Taken shape within my tortured brain, When good REUTER flashed tho welcome message, "Chancellor Returns," across the main. Neptune, be thy waters calm, not choppy, As they speed them on their homeward way, GEORGE and HENRY and, bowed down with "copy," Our unique arch-eulogist, TAY PAY. THE MARRIED MAN'S ADVANTAGE. PERSONALLY I think too much respect is paid to age. There is nothing clever in being old — nothing at all. On the other hand, youth has a charm of its own. Besides, twenty-two is not young ; you wouldn't think me so if you really knew me. The doubt arises, I suppose, from a certain innate light-heartedness. It is really rather pathetic. Daphne chooses to see humour in the situation, which is very absurd of her, and, as I point out, merely reflects on herself. Surely she doesn't wish to admit that it is foolish to love her. And that, to make a clean breast of it, is exactly what I do, and do madly. I follow her about, reverently watching her every move- ment, hanging on her every word — no light task. And my reward'? A scant unceremonious " Hallo !" when we meet ; a scanter " Night " or " Morning," according to the circumstances, when we part. A brave smile from me and she is gone, an unwitting spectator of a real tragedy. Up to a few days ago I was content to bear witli my lot, but last week I rebelled. It was at a dance, afte'r supper. Daphne had certainly shown a sort of affection for me, motherly rather than otherwise, I think; nevertheless an affection. But then, and not for the first time, I had seen her flirting with another. I decided to lose my temper. I went into the smoke-room and deliberated very close to the fire. In five minutes I left the room heated. I found Daphne at once. " Our dance," I said. " We will sit out." My manner must have been rather terrifying. At any rate we sat out. "Daphne," I began, "I am in a mood that brooks no trifling. For weeks I have loved you. You spurn me." " Oh, Billy, do be sensible," Daphne murmured. I moderated my tone. " Well, look here," I said, " why are you so cold to mo and yet flirt with my cousin ? I saw you putting his tie straight and patting his arm just now; and you won't let me even hold your hand. It 's pretty hard, Daphne." She laughed. " My dear Billy " " Many thanks for yours of yesterday. I am having a very good time and it is really kind of me to write." " If you won't be sensible — " 1 am. It 's just because I 'm so serious that I jest. All the wittiest men are broken-hearted. Go on." " Well, my dear Billy, you mustn't be foolish. I 'm very fond of you, but you 're so ridiculously young." "You haven't a revolver about you ? " I enquired. Daphne sighed. " Billy, you 're quite hopeless. Do let me try to explain. You see, I can't — well — flirt with you, because I don't really flirt, of course, and besides your cousin's different — he's married." I got up quickly. "Good-bye," I said. " You must excuse my leaving you." Daphne looked surprised. " Where are you going? " she enquired. "To get married." I walked away with my head ia the air. '••'• •'.'• ••:•• •:- ?,-. •:•. •.:: A week later I wrote Daphne a letter. It ran as follows : — " MY DEAB DAPHNE, — I am going to get married. Tina JAXI-AKY 14, 1914.] PUNCJI, Oil TI1K LONDON CHARIVARI. IN VIKW OF THE EXAGGERATED AND MISLEADING REPORTS OF WHAT OCCURS AT THE CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN MB. AgQUITH AND MR. BONAR LAW ON THE ULSTER QUESTION WE VENTURE TO THINK THAT A LITTLE MAKE-UP AND CAREFUL CHOICE OF RENDEZVOUS WOULD ENABLE THE LEADERS TO HAVE MANY A L'JNU CHAT OX THE SUBJECT WITHOUT ANYONE BZIS'Li AWAEE OF THEIR HAVING MET. is nineteen, the same as you, and is in tlie chorus of a musical comedy. She has real jet black hair, so I am quite lucky. I hope you are fonder of me already. Yours devotedly, BILLY." In reply, and by return of post, I received an invitation to tea at Daphne's. Daphne, looking beautiful, was await- ing me. " How d'you do? " I said gravely. " Billy," Daphne began, " will you be really serious with me?" I immediately assumed a business manner and coughed. " Well ?" I said. The word was sharp and incisive, a regular lawyer's question. " Of course, you "re joking about this chorus girl '.' " "Joking! Daphne, you know I 'd do anything for you." Daphne smiled. " But, Billy, 1 shan't like you any better if you marry her." I bit a piece of cake coldly. " I don't understand you, Daphne," I said. "When i ask you to show me a little affection, only just what you show others, you tell me I 'm young and married men are different. I arrange to be different at considerable personal sacrifice, and you tell me you won't like me any better." I swallowed convulsively. " But, Billy — dear — you 're not actually engaged ? " " I 'm not so sure," I replied. " These girls are wonder- fully sharp ; and then, of course, I 'm so young." (A good touch.) There was a silence. "I shall hate you if you marry a chorus girl," said Daphne. " Then why did you tell me married men were different?" " Because most of them are." Daphne smiled slowly. '; 1 think I might like you better if you were married to some really nice girl." I laughed bitterly. " To you, for instance ? " " Yes, to me," said Daphne very sweetly. 36 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [.JANUARY 14, 1!)M. TO OBEY OR NOT TO OBEY. 8//i December, 1913. MR. and Mrs. Melbrook request the pleasure of Mr. Hugh Melbrook's com- pany at the marriage of llieir daughter Muriel Irene with Mr. Adolphus Smith, at St. Peter's, Hashton, on Wednesday, December 31st, 1913, at 1.30 o'clock, and afterwards at Westlamls, Hashton. E. 8.V. P. 3th December, 1913. Mr. Hugh Melbrook tlianks Mr. and Mis. Melbrook for the opportunity of being present at the wedding of their daughter Muriel Irene, but much regrets that, owing to great pressure of work, he cannot be there. He desires that Mr. and Mrs. Melbrook should not feel constrained to alter their present P.S. — I 've just heard that Mr. Pars- ley, who is to marry us, is very strict about obedient weddings, and 1 pro- woman I may marry hereafter, here 's a dead snip for you. Listen ! When you come to the words " to love, cherish mised Geraldine I wouldn't " obey " if and to obey," you simply drop the arrangements account. on that slu> didn't. Now it 's my turn. Tell me something to do. SOth December, 1913. MY (iOOD MURIEL, — That's a caviare dish ! Caviare dishes, I understood, were all the rage just now, and here am I slaving away to be in the fashion, and you calmly write back and say, " Thank you very much for the butt — My good Muriel ! I really wanted to send you some- thing quite different, something equally novel but more seasonable ; no less, in fact, than a nose-muff or nose-wanner. It is a little idea of my own, the Mel- brook " Ehinotherm." Briefly, the \ 26</i December, 1913. MESSRS. HALL, MARJC & Co., Silversmiths. SIRS, — Kindly despatch at once to the address given below a seasonable wedding gift, costing no more than the amount of the enclosed postal order. I send my card for inclusion. Whatever change there may be please return it to me, and oblige Yours faithfully, H. MKLISHOOK. 27</t December, 1913. H. MELBROOK, ESQ. DEAB SIR, — We are in receipt of your , mechanism consists of pieces of heated SPREAD OF THE SERVANT-GIRL GRADUATE IDEA. (Interior of a tuftr-kitchen.) Mistress. " WOULD YOU MIND LEAVING YOUII SOPHOCLES FOB A MOMENT JlAHY, AND RUNNING TO THE POST?" second "to" (nobody will miss it) and run the "d" of the "and" into the "obey," and lo ! wo have a Trench word, to wit, dauber, meaning to cuff, drub or belabour. What say you to that, my bonny bride? I think that deserves an extra largo slice of cake, to put under my pillo\v. And I say, Muriel, I do hope there won't bo any of those rotten cassowary seeds in it. If there are, for pity's sake rake them out and give them to someone who likes them. And I '11 have his share of the marzipan. Your affectionate cousin, Hucn. NEWSPAPER EXCERPT. . . . During the service an amusing incident occurred. It was noticed that the bride, who is rumoured to have femi- nist leanings, betrayed some difficulty in pro- nouncing the vow of obedience. The Eev. Thos. Parsley consider- ately paused and helped her to repeat the words after him in a clear and audible manner. In an interview with our repre- sentative, Mr. Parsley smilingly explained that he was determined, in his parish at any rate, to discourage any possible evasion of the matri- monial vows. Ho con- esteemed favour of yesterday's date and beg to advise you that we have this day forwarded to the address you gave a handsome cut-glass anchovy dish with a finely-chased silver lid and tray. We enclose the receipted bill for the dish, which stands in our list at exactly the amount remitted by you. We are, dear Sir, Yours faithfully, HALL, MARK & Co. 29/7t December, 1913. MY DKAI: HUGH. — Thank you wry, very much for the sweet little butter- dish. It's ripping. Do try to down, Hugh, there 's a good boy get If you can find time to choose me such a nice present — I know what you are, it must have taken you hours — surely you could take the Say yes. day off for once. In tremendous haste, and thanking you again and again, Your affectionate cousin, MURIEL. requiring clearly young the incident. charcoal, potato or what-not, encased in some non-conducting material, the whole being then unostentatiously affixed to the frigid end of the nose. Stupidly, I forgot to take a plaster cast of your nose. You '11 forgive me, won't you ? And now about coming down on the happy day. I feel very hurt about it. You know perfectly well that I wanted you to be married on a Saturday, but you wouldn't. It isn't as though you get married every day, and I do think you might have considered me a little more. But, even if I did come, even if by working all night Monday and Tuesday I could scrape together a few hours of freedom, I know what it would be. I should never be allowed in the vestry afterwards, while all the fun was going on. And yet you have the effrontery to sit there and ask my help in evading your responsibilities as a married woman. Still, if you promise to breathe not a word of this to any | happening. sidered that a great deal of post-nuptial unhappiness was attributable to the lamentable laxity of the clergy in joining young people in matrimony without their future relations to be defined at the outset. The bride refused to make any comment, but seemed highly amused at 'Hashton Weekly Hash." "A gem ring lost last summer by Franz Schroder while travelling in a steamer on the Danube, near Prague, was found inside a carp caught at Mayt'iice by his nephew." Manchester Knniny The fact that Mayenco is not on the Danube need not bother you. Only last week our uncle lost a white ele- phant while travelling in a barge on the Eegent's Park Canal, near Maida Vale, and it was found inside the hat- box of the Editor of The Manchester Evening News by FRANK SCHRODER. Bless you, these things are always JANUARY 14, 191 1.] PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CIIAIUVAUI. 37 Irate Cottager. "Hi! YOU 'BE BBEAKIN' MY 'KDCIE!" Mild Sportsman. "On, NO; YOUB HEDGE is BREAKING MY FALL, ASD IF YOU WILL KINDLY PUSH ME BACK AGAIN I BHALE. TR? TO B'STOIK MY HOBSE." THE COWARD. IT is impossible to describe to you exactly how Herbert looked. But shame, defiance and unconcern were the principal ingredients in his ex- pression as he stood on the kerb and stared across the road. He started guiltily as I approached. " Hallo, Herbert ! " I began with my customary bonhomie. " Hallo ! " he said dismally. " What arc you doing here ? " I asked sternly. "Nothing," said Herbert. "Have you ever noticed what a fine building that post-office is?" "No," I said; "neither have you. Herbert, you are concealing something from mo. What have I done to deserve it ? Have I not enjoyed your confi- dence these many years, and have you ever known me betray it ? Is it mar- riage that has changed you thus ? Is it " " Shut up," said Herbert. " I'll tell you, if you stop talking." I stopped talking. " It 's this way. My wife and I have had a little discussion. And I stated my belief that there was nothing in an ordinary way that a woman could do that a man couldn't. Whereupon she defied me to go out and — er — buy a bloater. As you see, I have gone out, and — er — "Yes," I said, "you have gone out. Splendid of you ! And all that remains to be done is to buy a bloater. Why not? Yonder, if I mistake not, is the shop of a bloaterer." " But a bloater! " said Herbert. " It isnt fair. If she 'd said some salmon, or a lobster, or even a pound of sausages ; or if she 'd allowed me to 'phone for it. It 's not as if I 'd ever had any practice. It 's not decent to start a beginner on a hand-bought bloater." " Tush ! " I said. " This is not manly. Remember, our sex is at stake. Come ! " I took him by the arm. He advanced under protest. Four paces from the shop he stopped abruptly and laughed — a horrible laugh. "Do you know," he said, "I do believe I 've come out without a cent on me." "/don't believe it for a moment," I said, " but as it happens I can lend you pounds and pounds — almost enough for two bloaters." Herbert reluctantly found some money ! in one of the seven pockets he had not felt in. Then we advanced once more. This time there was no going back. Eight into the body of the fishmonger's we strode and stood firmly opposite the salesman. " Noiv," I whispered tensely. But Herbert hesitated, and even as he wobbled the salesman began his suggestions. " Yes, Sir ? Lobsters or prawns, Sir ? Some very good salmon this morning — very fine fish indeed, Sir." " J'!r, as a matter of fact," said Her- bert, " we just wanted to know if you would bo so kind as to direct us to the nearest post - office ? — the one just across the road, you know," he added nervously. " Herbert," I said in his private ear, "be a man." Herbert pulled himself together. " Would you," he said to the salesman, " would you please let me look at some b-b-blobsters ? " 38 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 14, 1914. A BAD DREAM. n/. Great news! The plan suggested by the Anglo- German Alliance Coinmitteo is at last to bo carried out. is to bo an exchange of garrisons, that is to say, certain English towns are to bo garrisoned by German regiments, while certain German towns are to have English garrisons. Our own town, though a small one, is to have the dis- tinguished honour of being the first to give this mark of friendship to the world. All the arrangements have been made, and to-morrow the 901st Prussian regiment of infantry is to march in. It will he a great day for Dartlebury, and we shall all do our best, though the public notice has been short, to give our gallant visitors a warm and truly British reception. Monday. — Our German friends have arrived. At 11 o'clock tins morning it was announced that they were approaching, headed by their band. The Mayor, Alderman Farthingale, and the whole Corporation, including the three Labour members recently elected, immediately proceeded to the old city wall to meet them. They were accompanied by the municipal band in full uniform, playing " Die Wacht am Hhcin," which they had been assiduously practising. Unfortunately this led to what might have been a some- what painful contretemps. On meeting the municipal band the Prussian commander, Colonel von Brausebrum, halted his soldiers and in a loud voice declared that our men were playing out of tune. Perhaps this was true, but tiie offence was involuntary and in any case it was hardly serious enough to call for the arrest of the whole band. Arrested, however, they were, and it was a melancholy sight to see them marched off by a corporal's guard. Mr. Zundnadel, the chief of the band, is himself of German origin, and his feelings can be better imagined than de- scribed. The Mayor saved the situation by making an extremely cordial speech, in which he spoke of the English and the Germans. as ancient brothers-in-arms. The Colonel in his reply said his mission was a glorious one, and every- thing would depend on the way we conducted ourselves. What can he have meant? The march was then resumed, but another halt was made in the High Street to remove the French flag which Mucklow, the linen-draper, had very tactlessly stuck up over his shop. He too was arrested, with wife and family, and was lodged in jail. Luckily no further incident disturbed the harmony of the proceedings. Tuesday. — This morning Lieutenant von Schornstein, while walking in Brewer's Alley, trod on a piece of banana- sikin and fell heavily on the pavement. As he rose he observed that two small boys were, so he alleged, laughing at him. lie immediately ran after the two urchins, and was proceeding to put them to the sword when the Brewery men interfered and disarmed him. He pleaded that bis uniform had been insulted and that it was necessary for him to punish them. "Icli muss sic dunk den Lcib rennen " were his words. The men, however, were not inclined to admit the force of this plea, especially as they understood no German, and they sent him back to barracks in a taxi- cab. The Mayor at once wired his apologies to the Colonel, and it is hoped that nothing further will be heard of the incident. I ought to add that the boys deny that they laughed, but the lieutenant is certain that they wore a smiling expression. The "Friendship Banquet" was held this evening in the Town Hall, with the Mayor in the chair. No very great enthusiasm was shown, and when the Mayor, in proposing the health of our visitors, alluded to the friendly rivalry of the two nations in commerce and the arts of peace, the Colonel pulled him back into his seat and begged him not to proceed. "Maul halteii," hj said. The three Labour members of the Council were afterwards arrested for not having joined with sufficient heartiness in the singing of " Dcutschland -ilbcr Alles." Wednesday. — A state of siege has been declared in Dartle- bury, and we are all living under martial law. Lord Gruffen was arrested for having knocked up against a soldier. Tin; magistrates, on leaving the police-court, were handcuffed and removed to barracks. A crisis is evidently approaching. Thursday. — An insurrection started this morning. A huge crowd attacked the barracks and overpowered all resistance. Blood flowed like water, but in an hour all was over. There is a strong feeling that the experiment of the Alliance Committee wTas a rash one, though no doubt it was well meant. We live and learn. LOOP! LOOP!! (-4 story of aerial prowess in the provinces.) THEY said, " He goes a-tumbling through the hollow And trackless empyrean like a clown, Head pointed to the earth where weaklings wallow, Feet up toward the stars ; not such renown Even our lord himself, the bright Apollo, Gets in his gilded car. For one bob down You shall behold the thing." "Eight-o," I said, Clapping the old brown bay leaves on my head. So to the hangars. Time, about eleven, The air full chill, the ground a mess of muck, And long time gassed 1 on the wintry heaven And thought of many a deed of Saxon pluck ; How DKAKIC, for instance, good old DUAKK of Devon, Played bowls at Plymouth Hoe. Twelve-thirty struck. No one had vaulted through the air's abyss ; DRAKE would have plunged tail up an hour ere this. Brief interval for lunch, and then a drizzle Fell on the dreary field. Like some dead moth The thing remained. Chagrin commenced to sizzle, And certain people cried, " A thillingth loth." Others, " Hey, Mister Airman, it 's a sw-izzle ! " Then a stern man came out, and with a cloth Lightly, as one well used to such a feat, Swaddled the brute's propeller and its seat. The skies grew darkling, and there went a rumour, " The thing is off ; he will not fly to-day ; " And forth we wandered, some in rare ill-humour, But not, oh, not the bard. Yet this I say — • There are two kinds of courage : one 's a boomer Avid of gold and glory ; this is A, Crowned with a palm, and in her hands 1 see Sheaves of press cuttings. There is also B. Not venturesome, this last, to brave the billows, To beard the panther in his hidden lair, To probe the epiderms of armadillos, Nor execute wild cart-wheels in the air : But who shall say how much Britannia still owes To B, the kind of courage that can bear Dauntless to wait, whate'er the skies portend, (Having paid entrance) to the bitter end ? The heavenly hero in his suit of leather Soars through Olympus with the world beneath Sometimes, and sometimes, owing to the weather, Scratches his fixtures in the tempest's teeth. Shall the high gods, who gaze on both together, Count him the nobler, or confer their wreath On the brave bull-dog bard, who risks his thews Standing about all day in thin-soled shoes? EVOE. JANUARY 14, 1914.] PUNCH, Oil TIIR LONDON C.IIAUI VA 1! I. 39 =-. • Ih I;K 's ONK I 'M srr.i: YOU 'I.T. I.IKK, TuEvun." 1 WHAT is IT?" • IN WHAT LANGUAGE? ' OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (P>y Mr. Punch's Stajf of Lt'arm'il ('/,'rks.) JUST as one may say of certain novelists that they write at the top of their voices, so, I think, ono might describe Miss VIOLA MF.YXKLI, as writing in a whisper. This certainly is the eflect that Modern Lovers (SECKER) pro- duced upon me. The gentle method of it invested the story — which of itself is a very slight thing — with an odd significance almost impossible to communicate in criticism ; but the reading of a few pages will show you what I mean. The title is apt enough, for the tale is about nothing but love, as it affects a group of five young people, three men and two girls. Of the girls, who are sisters, 7-/'///<; RutJierglen is the more important and detailed figure. -/•///;>, in the time before the story opens, bad an affair with Oliver Bliijh; then, summoned North to live with her futile and uncom- prehending parents, she fell (as did her sister Milly and most of the local spinsters) under the fascination of one Olive Maxwell, who was an author and had appealing eyes and obviously a way with him. Then Oliver turned up again, and poor Effie didn't know which of them she wanted. I speak lightly, but, if you think all this made for comedy, your conception of Miss MHYXELL'S methods is very much at fault. Love to her is very much what it was to Patience in the opera — by no means a wholly enviable boon. I can hardly praise too much the exquisite refine- ment and restraint of her treatment of commonplace things. But one small point baffled me: Oliver appears to have been a professional diver and bath-keeper — wo are told, indeed, that he had occupied that position at Rugby (a statement that I have private and personal reasons fin- discrediting) — yet we find him staying as a welcome and honoured guest in the bouse of the nutherglens, whom I take to 1)0 more or less "county." Surely this, though of no real importance, is at least remarkable ? " What," I asked myself, " is just the matter with this apparently quite nice book? " (It was Joan's Green Year, and written by B. L. DOON and published by MACMILLAN.) It is the kind of book that grows out of a romantic disposition and an assiduously stuffed commonplace book. It consists of letters from Joan, a paying guest in the Manor House Farm at Pelton, to her brother Keith, a soldier in India, tell- ing him all about her year of holiday and "soul discipline" in the country, the village gossip, her proposals and her one acceptance, and giving a sort of farmer's calendar of the seasons as interpreted by the guileless amateur. Joan has what is known as a nice mind. But to tell truth she has chosen a difficult and dangerous if alluring 'art form. Of course lette'rs enable you to evade some of the difficulties of the novelist's task, to be discursive, allusive and incomplete. But you can't be let off anything of the precision and subtlety of your characterisation. On the contrary. And Joan makes everyone in Pelton (except the rustics, whose authenticity I gravely suspect) talk as Joan writes. They have nearly all seen her commonplace book, I judge. Then, again, you must not have (like Joan) a large list of acquaintances, or you breed confusion and dissipate interest accordingly. Joan is very young in many ways. She is extravagant in the matter of the equipment of her heroes. Bob Ingleby, the fanner (a gentleman, because ho had been at Winchester), is a " great comely giant," yet wins events one and three of the Hunt Steeplechase, though thrown badly in number two. I have a suspicion that this work is really Joan's tee shot, and that after a notable recovery, which on the best of her present form I can safely prophesy, she will reach her green year next time. 40 PUKCII, Oil THE LOKEON CHAE1VAKI. [JANUARY 14, 1914. Mrs. T. P. O'CoNKOH has written a fascinating book. My Beloved South she calls it, and PUTNAMS publish it. There is not a lifeless page in the 427 that make up a bountiful feast. Every one contains vivid reproductions of incidents in social life in the South " befo' de \va' " and after. At the outset we make the acquaintance of a typical Southron, Mrs. O'CONNOR'S grandfather, Governor of Florida when it was still a Territory, with native Indians fighting fiercely for their land and homes. Mrs. O'CoNNou was, of course, not to the fore in those early days. But so steeped is she in lore of the South, much of it gained from the lips of nurses and out-door servants, so keen is her sympathy, so quick and true her instinct that she is able to revivify the old scenes and reproduce the atmosphere of tha time. The darkey nurse of earliest childhood lives again, sometimes bringing with her plantation songs like "Voodoo-Bogey- Boo," quaintly musical. Many passages of the grandfather's conversations are preserved, in which we may detect the voice of the gifted granddaughter. But theinfluenceof heredity is strong, more espe- cially " down South." Also there are many charming stories re- dolent of the South. I was about to mention : the page on which will , be found the thrilling I history of a mule aptly \ named " Satan." On reflection I won't spoil the reader's pleasure in unexpectedly coming upon it somewhere about the middle of the book. Nobody — man or woman, girl or boy — who begins to read My Beloved South will skip a page. So the story cannot be over- looked. CONSCIENTIOUS REFEREE ORDERING HASTY TO AN IMPERTINENT PLAYER. In Lost Diaries (DUCKWOKTH) Mr. MAURICE BARING travels by an easy road to humour, and he does not pound it with too laborious feet. This is perhaps a fortunate thing, for a farcical reconstruction of history in the light of modern sentiment and circumstances might easily tire; a Comic History of England, for instance, is stift'er reading to-day than GARDNER or GREEN. Sometimes, however, Mr. BAKING seems to carry to extreme lengths his con- scientious avoidance of efforts to be funny ; and in the imaginary records of one or two of his subjects there is little more to laugh at than the unaided fancy of the student has long ago perceived. Tristram loved two heults, and JOHN MILTON was an exasperating husband; but these things I knew, and the author of Lost Diaries has made no more capital out of the situations than the eternal merriment which the bare statement of the facts inspires. But where Mr. BARING, pleasantly disdainful alike of con- sistency and taste, examines the pocket-book of the " Man in the Iron Mask," and finds him complaining of the noise and disturbance in dungeon after dungeon until he is removed at last to the lotus island of the Bastille; or records the blameless botanical pursuits of TIBERIUS in seclusion ; or the first consumption of the Colla di Gallo by COLUMBUS in the newly discovered West, he is, for all the simplicity of his methods, amusing enough. Yet even so I ;un inclined to think that the first of his essays, which iv like an actual transcript from the jottings of a nineteenth- century private-school boy, is the diary which I most heartily congratulate Mr. BARING on having rediscovered, and which I should be least willing for him to lose again. With the Land Question staring us in the face, Folk of the Furrow (SMITH ELDER) should attract the attention of those who wish thoroughly to understand what the agricultural labourer wants and why he wants it. Mr. CHRISTOPHER HOLDENBY is no amateur, for as Mr. STEPHEN REYNOLDS has lived with fishermen and shared their daily lives so he has lodged in labourers' cottages and hoed and dug with the best (and worst) of them. The result is a book that is stamped with the hall-mark of a great sincerity ; and three facts at least can be gathered from it by the very dullest of gleaners. First, and I think foremost, that the decencies of life cannot be observed if children of very various ages are to be crowded into cottages too small to hold them ; secondly, that it is useless to expect morality from youths who have few or no amusements pro- vided for them; thirdly, that the passing of the old families and the advent of the week-end "merchant princes" do not make a change for the better. All which may be stale news, but after reading this book I think that you will admit that Mr. HOLDENBY has con- trived to make an old tale very impressive. In some instances it is true that I could bring — ' evidence directly in opposition to his, but on the whole he deserves well for the way in which he has won the confidence of a class naturally suspicious and silent, and for his manner of stating his case. Had I for my sins to cram our M.P.'s for the debates that lie before them, I should feed them liberally upon Folk of the Furrow. HIMSELF OFF THE GROUND FOR BEING TO MR. CHAMBERLAIN ON HIS RETIREMENT FROM PUBLIC LIFE. NOT yet the end ; only the end of strife. But now — while still the brave unwearied heart, Fixed upon England, fain to keep its part In her Imperial life, Beats with the old unconquerable pride — Now leave to younger limbs the dust and paltn, And let the weary body seek the calm That comes with eventide. There take your rest within the sunset glow, All feuds forgotten of your fighting days, Circled with love and laurelled with the praise Of friend and ancient foe. O. S. JANUARY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 41 'NOT VERY SPORTING LINKS, ABE THEY ? " EvEX EARTHQUAKES HAVE THEIR USE. "An, THAT'LL MAKE BETTER GOLF." CHARIVARIA. MAJOR -GENE HAL LEONARD WOOD, chief of the U.S.A. General Staff, has reported that the American Army is, practically speaking, unarmed, and advises the immediate expenditure of £1,200,000 for artillery and ammunition. We fancy, however, that the present state of affairs is the result of a com- promise with the American Peace party, who will not object to their country having an army so long as it is un- armed. ... ;;; " VICTORY FOR THE ORANGE WOMEN. DHUHY LANE INSTITUTION TO CONTINUE." This should put heart into the Orange Men of Ulster. % ... We hear that, to celebrate the recent glorious victory in Alsace, the little town of Zabern is to be re - named Silheln. ... ... The Eev. N. FITZPATBICK, describing a visit to the Balkan States in a lecture at the Camera Club, spoke of the diffi- culties ho had with his laundry. The samo bundle of clothes was soaked in Boumania, rough-dried in Bulgaria, and ironed in Servia. We are astonished that the lecturer should have made no mention of mangling, which we under- stand is done well in the Balkan States. * * The KAISER, we are told, has given instructions that his menus are in future to be written in German. What, by the way, is the French for Sauer- kraut ? .,. * ^'* Mr. ARCHIBALD, a member of the Australian House of Eepresentatives, has calculated that the value of the property of the five million inhabitants of the Commonwealth is £780,000,000. We cannot but think it is a mistake to divulge the fact with so many dis- honest people about. * ,* I do like your eyes is the latest bright thought for a Bevue title. To be followed, no doubt, by Her nose isn't bad, is it? and What's wrong' with her toes ? • $ + "FRENCH BATTLESHIP DROPPED." Pall Mall Gazelle. Very careless of someone. ^ :|: Beading that one of the features of the new British battleship class will be less draught, Aunt Caroline remarked that she was glad to hear this : she had always understood that during even half a gale it was very easy to catch cold at sea. # * * Sir BUFUS ISAACS has decided to take the title of Lord BEADING. This still leaves it open to a distinguished literary man, should he be made a peer, to become Lord Writing. * * The age of pleasure! Where will it stop? Extract from The Wilney Gazette : — " On Monday evening a very successful dance was given in the Corn Exchange . . . The company num- bered over one hundred, and dancing to the strains of Taylor's Oxford Scarlet Band was enjoyed till the early hours of Wednesday morning." Wliile Police Constable JAKEMAX was in Eldon Boad, Beading, last week, a cat suddenly pounced on him and bit him. We have not yet received a full account of the incident, but apparently the constable was on de- tective duty and cleverly disguised as a mouse. ::; ... One of the cats shown at the Grand Championship Cat Show had her fur cut and trimmed like a poodle's. The matter has been much discussed in canine circles, and we understand that there may be trouble. An express train travelling from Nice to Macon was, last week, beaten by an eagle, which raced it over a distance of eighteen miles. Birds are evidently being put upon their mettle by the aeroplanes. % # Alleged notice outside Drury Lane : — SLEEPING BEAUTY. N.B. — CHAUFFEURS ARE KINDLY EEQUESTED NOT TO HOOT WHEN PASSING. From Paris comes the news that a successor to the Tango has been found in the form of a Chinese dance known as the Tatao. The name, presumably, is a contraction of the words "Ta-ta, Tango." * * ;|: A new character named " It " appears in the revival of The Darling of the Gods. Wo presume it is The Limit. The manager of the Little Theatre is making arrangements for shilling seats for the first time in the history of the house. How is it going to be done? By Magic, of course. * * " The Shepherdess without a Heart " continues to make good progress, and the medical profession is much in- terested. VOL. CXLVI. 42 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHAKIVAUr. MAM; AIIY 21, 1914. A FAREWELL TOUR. THIS is positively Chum's last ap- pearance in print — for his own sake no less than for yours. He is conceited enough as it is, hut if once he got to know that people are always writing ahout him in the papers his swagger would he unbearable. However, I have said good-bye to him now ; I have no longer any rights in him. Yesterday I saw him off to his new home, and when we meet again it will be on a difl'uent footing. "Is that your dog ? " I shall say to his master. " What is lie? A Cocker? Jolly little fellows, aren't they? I had one myself once." As Chum refused to do the journey across London by himself, I met him at Liverpool Street. He came up in a crate; the world must have seemed very small to him on the way. "Hallo, old ass," I said to him through the bars, and in the little space they gave him he wriggled his body with delight. "Thank Heaven there's one of 'em alive," he said. "I think this is my dog," I said to the guard, and I told him my name. 1 If asked for my card. " I 'in afraid 1" haven't one with me,'' il explained. When policemen touch .1110 on the shoulder and ask me to go [quietly; when I drag old gentlemen from underneath uiotor-'buses, and they decide to adopt me on the spot; on all the important Occasions when one really wants a card, I never have one j\vith me. " Can't give him up without proof of identity," said the guard, and Churf 'grinned at the idea of being thought so valuable. I felt in my pockets for letters. There was only one, but it offered to lend me £10,000 on my note of hand alone. It was addressed to " Dear Sir," and though I pointed out to the guard that I was the " Sir," he still kept tight hold of Chum. Strange that one man should be prepared to trust me with £10,000, and another should he so chary of confiding to me a small black spaniel. "Tell the gentleman who I am," I said imploringly through the bars. " Show him you know me." "He's really all right," said Chum, looking at the guard with his great honest brown eyes. "He's been with us for years." And then I had an inspiration. I turned down the inside pocket of my coat; and there, stitched into it, was the label of my tailor's with my name written on it. 1 had often wondered why tailors did this; obviously they know how stupid guards can be. " I suppose that 's all right," said the guard reluctantly. Of course I might liave stolen the coat. I see his point. You — you wouldn't like a nice packing case for yourself ? " I said timidly. " You see, I thought I 'd put Chum on the lead. I 've got to take him to Paddington, and he must be tired of his shell by now. It isn't as if he were really an armadillo." The guard thought he would like a shitting and a nice packing case. Wood, he agreed, was always wood, particularly in winter, but there were times when you were not ready for it. "How are you taking him?" he asked, getting to work with a chisel. "Underground ? " "Underground?" I cried in horror. Take Chum on the Underground? Take- Have you overtaken a large live conger-eel on the end of a string into a crowded carriage?" The guard never h:ui. " Well, don't. Take him in a taxi instead. Don't waste him on other people." The crate yawned slowly, and Chum emerged all over straw. We had an anxious moment, but the two of us got him down and put the lead on Dim'. Then Chum and I went off for a taxi. " Hooray,'' said Chum, wriggling all over, " isn't this splendid ? I say, which way are you going? I'm going this way ? . . . N.O, .1 mean the other way." Homebody had left sonic of his milk- cans on the platform. Three times we went round one in opposite directions and. unwound •. ourselves, the wrong way. Then I hauled him in, took him struggling in my arms and got into a cab. The journey to Paddington was full of interest. For a whole minute Chum stood quietly on the scat, rested his fore-paws on the open window and drank in Londo'n." Then he jumped down and went mad; He tried tt> hang me with the lead, and then in remorse tried to hang himself. Ho made a dash for the little window at the back ; missed it and dived out of the window at the side ; was hauled back and kissed me ecst.atica.lly. in- the eye with his sharpest tooth . . . "And I thought the world was at an end," he said, " and there were no more people. Oh, I am an ass. I say, did you notice I 'd had my hair cut ? How do you like my new trousers? I must show you them." Ho jumped on to my lap. " No, I think you '11 see them better on the ground," he said, and jumped down again. " Or no, perhaps you would get a better view if — " he jumped up hastily, " and yet I don't know— " lie dived down, " though of course, if you — Oh lor! this is a day," and he put both paws lovingly on my collar. Suddenly he was quiet again. The stillness, the absence of storm in the taxi was so unnatural that I began to miss it. " Buck up, old fool," I said, but he sat motionless by my side, plunged in thought. I tried to chter him up. I pointed out King's Cross to him ; he wouldn't even bark at it. I called his attention to the poster outside the Euston Theatre of The Two Biffs ; for all the regard he showed he might never even have heard of them. The monu- mental masonry by Portland Road failed to uplift him. At Baker Street he woke up and grinned cheerily. "It's all right," he taid, " I was trying to remember what happened-to me this morning — si >n:e- thing rather in iserable, I thought, but I can't get hold of it. However it's all right now. How are you?" And ho went mad again. At Paddington I bought a label at the bookstall and wrote i if for him. lie went round and round my leg looking for me. " Funny thing, ".he t:aid as he began to unwind, "ho was here a moment ago. . I '11 just go round < nee more. I rather think . . . Ow ! Oh, there you are! " I s.tepped off him, un- ravelled, the. lead and dragged him to the Parcels Office. " I want- to send this by the two o'clock train," j I said to the man the other side of the counter. " Send what ? " he said. I looked down. Chum was making himself very small and black in the shadow of the counter. Ho was com- pletely hidden from the sight of any- body the other side of it. " Come out," I said, " and show your- self." "Not much," he said. "A parcel! I "m not going to be a jolly old parcel for anybody. ( "It's only a way cf speaking," 1 pleaded. " Actually you are travelling as a snmll.black gentleman. You will go with the guard — a delightful man." Chum came out reluctantly. The clerk leant over the counter and man- aged to see him. " According to our regulations," he said, and I always dislike people who begin like that, " he has to be on a chain. A leather lead won't do." Chum smiled all over himself. I don't know which pleased him more — the suggestion that he was a very large and fierce dog, or the impossibility now of his travelling with the guard, de- lightful man though ho might be. He gave himself a shake and started for the door. "Tut, tut, it's a great disappoint- ment to me," he said, trying to look disappointed, but his back would wriggle. " This chain business — silly of us not PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 21, 1914. THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN. REFRAIN BY NATIVES OP SOUTH AFRICA AND KIKUYU. JANUARY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. JL- Kindly Hostess (to nervous reciter who has broken dotvn in " The Charge of tlte Light Brigade"). JUST TKLL US IT IN YOUR OWN WORDS." •NEVEB MIND, MB. TOMPKINS, to have known — well, well, we shall he wiser another time. Now let 's go home." Poor old Chum ; I had known. From a large coat pocket I produced a chain. " Dash it," said Chum, looking up at me pathetically, " you might almost want to get rid of me." He was chained, and the label tied on to him. Forgive me that label, Chum ; I think that was the worst offence of all. And why should I label one who was speaking so eloquently for himself ; who said from the tip of his little black nose to the end of his ; stumpy black tail, "I 'm a silly old ass, I hut there 's nothing wrong in me, and ] HOW GREAT MEN EMOTION. SHOW [Mr. HANDEL BOOTH, speaking in Hyde Billingsgate last week, stated that he had heard that when Mr. GODFREY ISAACS informed the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE that Mr. HANDEL BOOTH had retired from the Dublin Police Inquiry during the Dublin riots, the Lord Lieutenant j Lord READING OF BARLEY burst into " buried his head in his hands."] | tears and hid his face in his wig. Mr. Leo Maxixe, writing in The. Irrational Beview, states that he has it on the best authority that when the GF.RMAN EMPEROR read the Criccieth New Year's interview with Mr. LLOYD GEORGE he exclaimed, "This beats the Tango," and fell heavily on the hearth- Why Mr. Chesterton shuns the Isle of Wight. Extract from local time-table : — " 10.45 a.m. Motor Service between Fresh- water and Newport for light passengers only." rug. Mr. T -,-, "Referring to the plea of Dr. Budge, the James Larvm, addressing a poet laureat£ £or pur£r EngHsh, a writer in meeting of the Confederates at the the ' Daily Chronicle ' says . . . ." they 're sending me away ! " But j Saveloy Hotel, informed his hearers Glasgow Evening Citizen. that when Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL Purer spelling of names is what the read the article in The Daily Mail on POET LAUREATE: would really like to see. his future he stood on his head in the according to the regulations — one must obey the regulations, Chum. I gave him to the guard — a delightful man. The guard and I chained him to a brake or something. Then the guard went away, and Chum and I had a little talk . . . After that the train went off. Good-bye, little dog. A. A. M. "Lady Strachie wishes to thoroughly re- commend her permanent Caretaker and Hus- band."— Advt. in " Morning Post." Lord STRACHIE should be a proud j man to-day. corner for three minutes, to the great em- barrassment of Sir FRANCIS HOPWOOD, who was present. Sir WILLIAM ROBERTSON NICOLL, writing in The British Weekly, asserts that when Mr. MASSINGHAM . read " C.K.S.'s " recent reference to The Nation in The Sphere he kicked the waste-paper basket round the room and tore the hair out of his head in handfuls. Mr. CECIL CHESTERTON, addressing It was very touching of The Evening News to give so much space to the distressing story of the real Duchess who could not get a seat at Olympia — (surely they might have thrown out a common person to make room for her ?) — but it was tactless to go on : — " ' If you will bring me a couple of chairs,' said the duchess, ' I will sit down in the gang- way with the greatest pleasure.' " It makes one wonder which of our a meeting of non-party fishmongers at | larger duchesses it was. 46 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 21, 1914. THE HOUSE OF PUNCH. [Ho " married a princess of the House of Punch." — Excerpt from fin account of the life of a former Kiiuj of Kashmir. \ HAIL, Master, and accept the news I bring. I couie to make a solemn mystery clear, One that affects you deeply ; for I sing Of a most ancient king Nine hundred years ago in fair Kashmir, Who yearned towards a bride, and — hear, oh hear, Lord of the reboant nose and classic hunch — " Married a princess of the House of Punch." Yes, you are royal, as one might have seen. The loftiness of your despotic sway, Your strange aloofness and unearthly mien (Yet regal) might have been A full assurance of monarchic clay. Had hut the fates run kindly, at this day Yourself should be a king of orient fame, Chief of the princely house that bears your name. Methinks I see you at it. I can see A shamiana" loftily npreared Beneath a banyan (or banana) tree, Whichever it may be, Where, with bright turban and vermilion beard (A not uufrequent sight, and very weird), You sit at peace ; a small boy, doubly bowed, Acts us your footstool and, though stiff, is proud. Fragrant with Champak scents the warm wind sighs Heavily, faintly, languorously fanned By drowsy peacock-plumes — to keep the flies From your full nose and eyes — Waved from behind you, where on either hand Two silent slaves of Nubian polish stand, Whose patent-leather visages reflect The convex day, with mirror-like effect. Robed in a garment of the choicest spoil Of Persian looms, you sit apart to deal Grace to the suppliant and reward for toil, T'abase the proud, and boil The malefactor, till upon you steal Mild qualms suggestive of the mid-day meal ; And, then, what plump, what luscious fruits are those? What goblets of what vintage '! Goodness knows. Gladly would I pursue this glowing dream, To sing of deeds of chivalry and sport, Of cushioned dalliance in the soft hareem (A really splendid theme), The pundits and tame poets at your court, And all such pride, but I must keep it short. Once let me off upon a thing so bright, And I should hardly stop without a fight. But now you stand plain Mister; and, no doubt, Would have for choice this visioned pomp untold. Yet, Sire, I beg you, cast such musings out; Put not yourself about For a vain dream. If I may make so bold, Your present lot should keep you well consoled. You still are great, and have, when all is done, A fine old Eastern smack, majestic One. The vassals of your fathers were but few Compared with yours, who move the whole world •wide; You still can splash an oriental hue, Ked, yellow, green or blue, * Tent. Upon a fresh and various outside; While you support — perhaps your greatest pride — High pundits for your intellectual feast, And some tame bards, of whom I am the least. DUM-DUM. GIVEN AWAY. A CORRESPONDENT of The Times writes: — "The A'*r,i, the Russian Family Herald, promises to annual subscribers, in addition to a copy of the paper every week — The complete works of Korolenko in twenty-five volumes. The complete works of Edrnond Eostaud. The complete works of Maikof. A literary supplement every month. A fashion book. A book of patterns of fancy-work designs. A tear-off calendar for 1914," and adds, " Where does English or American journalistic enterprise stand beside this ? " We understand that our more enterprising contem- poraries have no intention of allowing this question to remain unanswered, and the wildest rumours are alloat as to the nature of the gifts which will be offered next year to annual subscribers by various British journals. With a view to test the accuracy of these rumours our Special Representative called yesterday upon the Editors of several leading publications, and, although much secrecy is still maintained, he has succeeded in collecting some valuable information. For instance, the report that The Nineteenth Century and After would include among its gifts the dramatic works of the MELVILLE BROS., How to Dance the Ttnnjo, and Siueeter than Honey, a novel with a strong love interest, lacks confirmation ; nor are we in a position to assert definitely that The Spectator will present a beautiful coloured supplement, entitled "Susie's Pet Pup," and a hand- some mug bearing the inscription : " A Present from Loo," though we believe that such may be the case. On the other hand, The Times' reply to an inquiry as to whether they would present to each reader half a ton of supplements was that they had done so for some years past; and The Daily Mirror did not deny that they were considering the proposal to present a framed copy of the portrait of John Tiflinch which appeared in their issue of February 29, 1913. (Tiffinch, our readers will remember, was brother-in-law to the man who discovered the great emerald robbery.) The British Medical Journal's list will include the works of GEORGE BERNARD SHAW and the Life of Mrs. EDDY; but the report that The Tailor and Cutter would present Wild Tribes of Central Africa is emphatically denied. Finally, The Boxing World had not thought of offering any free gifts, but on learning that BOSWELL had written a Life of JOHNSON seemed inclined to reconsider their decision. "In order to counteract a tendency to stoutness which ex-President Tuft is now overcoming, the Kaiser has lately undergone a systematic course of outdoor ' training.' " — Daily Mail. This is very friendly of the KAISEE, but Mr. TAFT will probably do it better by himself. Says an Edinburgh tram-car advertisement : — "THE SCOTTISH ORCHESTRA. Conductor E. MIynarski. Solo Violinist Duei Kerekjarto." You shou'd see these natives when they get among the haggis. Hoots ! JANUARY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE KAKEKIKOKUANS ; OB, THE HEATHEN IN HIS BLINDNESS. THE country of Kakekikoku, as its name suggests, lies in the vicinity of Timbuctoo, the well-known African resort ; and at the present time, when so much interest is centred upon that little-known land, it may be profitable to our readers, as well as to the writer, to give some information about it. A famous Eellow of the Eoyal Geographical Society, who has travelled widely, not only in this country but in Belgium and the Channel Islands, has stated that Kakekikoku is richly en- dowed with the bewilderments, perils and mysteries of primitive and unex- plored African territory. A warlike and exclusive folk, the Kakekikokuans extend a red - hot welcome to the foreigner who ventures within their borders. They are possessed of a fine physique and an intelligence of a subtler kind than many savage races can pretend to ; yet while having all the qualities that should go to the building up of a strong nation, certain conditions of their life bar the way to such an achievement. In a word, the Kakekikokuans are in the clutches of the medicine-man. Each of tlieso despots has his own little following, and wields a distinctive influence, it being a point of honour with him that his teaching should differ in some way (usually in but a trivial detail) from the teaching of any other of his kind. The solemnity of their discussions and the heat of their dissensions about the minutiae of their creeds would be laughable were it not so pathetic. And not only do the medicine-men dispute among themselves, but their followers engage even more vehemently in bitter strife. For instance, there is a national belief that the juby-juby nut, which grows in the forests in profusion, possesses some supernatural virtue that will make a man who chews it impervious to the weapons of his enemies. That this virtue exists is generally accepted ; but when it comes to a discussion of how, when and where to chow the nut, much wrangling goes on ; and such men as survive in battle claim that their particular method is • proved to be the correct one, while such as succumb are cited in proof of the error of their process of absorbing the juices of the juby-juby nut. The survivors include, of course, represen- tatives of various schools of thought, and a battle against a common enemy rarely goes by without being imme- diately-followed by a conflict among the surviving Kakekikokuans in order »to«put to final proof their respective Observant Lady (to gentleman alighting from 'bus). "I THINK YOU'VE DROPPED A theories about their remarkable fruit. Thus a promising people is committing race-suicide ; for this sort of thing goes on not only in connection with this particular problem, but over such ques- tions as the number of beads to wear round one's neck when visiting the medicine-man, whether tho national custom of saluting the' rising sun need be observed on cloudy mornings, and whether the medicine-man is entitled to the pick of the yams on any day but Sunday. People of different opinions on these points decline to eat together or to enter into social intercourse with one another; and their children are forbidden to mingle in play. The good news has just come to hand, however, that a band of Church of England missionaries, despatched by the Bishop of ZANZIBAR, has now entered the country ; and it is delightful to contemplate the beneficent result that may be expected from their broad- minded attitude and their sane teaching on the subject of the brotherhood of man. " The Berlin critics have been accusing Mr. Bernard Shaw of having committed in his ' Pygmalion,' produced in Germany the other day, a plagiarism from Smollett's novel, ' Peregrine Pickle.' Mr. Shaw denies that he has ever read the novel in question, and, in an interview in the London ' Observer,' re- marks : ' The suggestion of the German papers that I had Pygmalion produced in Germany lost I should bo detected in my own country of plagiarism, shows an amusing ignoranca of English culture.' " — Yorkshire Evening Post. It does. Why even our most cultured countryman, Mr. BERNARD SHAW, has never read Peregrine Pickle. "Mr. Spademan, of Wooduewton.Northants, placed a dozen eggs under a hen some time ago, and there were hatched out thirteen chickens, one of the eggs being double-yolked. All tho young birds are doing well. Burroughes and Watts' billiard tables for accuracy." — Birmingham Daily Mail. They are, in fact, a lesson to Mr. SPADEMAN'S hens. 48 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. j JANUARY 21, 1!il t. LACONICS. "As ;i matter of fact," said the doctor, " you ought not to speak at all. But that's asking too much. So let it go at this — not a word more than is necessary. Good-bye." lie left the room and 1 lay hack pondering on his instructions. How many words were really necessary ? The nurso soon after entered. •• So the doctor's gone," she said. Obviously it wasn't necessary to say Yes since the room was empty save for me and hoi-; so I made no reply. She went to the window and looked out. The sky was blue and the sun- shine was brilliant. " It 's a fine day,'1 she said. No, I thought, yon don't catch me there;, and said nothing. Hut' I re- flected that yesterday I might myself have made the same inane remark as she. "Would you like tho paper'.'" she asked. " Yes," I said, and then almost re- gretted it, for having waited nearly fifty years for yesterday's news surely I could wait longer. Still, tho paper would help to pass the time. While she was fetching it I remem- bered a dream of last night which I had intended to tell her this morning. But why do so? A dream is of no account even to the dreamer. Still, the recital might have made her laugh. But why should laughter be bothered about? The nurse brought the paper and I signified Thank you. "I'll leave you for a while now," .she said. "Tho fire's all right. Your drink 's by the bed. You "11 ring if you want anything." All these things I knew. My drink is always beside the bed ; the bell is the natural communication between me and the house. What a foolish chatterbox the woman was! 1 nodded ;u:d she went ont. On her return an hour or so later sho asked, " Is there anything in the paper? " Before answering I examined this question. What did it mean ? It did not mean, Are the pages this morning absolutely blank, for a change? It meant, Is there a good murder? Is any very important person dead ? In reply I handed the paper to her. Instead of reading it she began a long account of her morning's walk. She told me where she had been ; whom she had seen ; whom she had thought she had seen and then found that it was some one else ; what somebody j had said. Not a syllable mattered, I j now realised ; but yesterday I should have joined in the talk, asked questions, encouraged her in her foolishness. Just before lunch my brother and a guest came into the room and began to talk about golf. My brother said that he had been round in 9ft. This was his best since September, when he went round in 97. He described his diffi- culties at the tenth hole. It all seemed very idiotic to me, for the game was over and done with. Why rake it up ? The guest said that ho had lost two balls, one of which was expensive. Ills driving had been good, but in the short game he had been weak. He could never quite make up his mind whether he putted best with a gun- metal putter or a wooden one. My brother asked me if I remem- bered that long drive of his two years ago? I nodded. Tho nurse came in and told them to go. She then asked me if I was hungry. " Very," I said. She brought me some beef-tea and ealfs-foot-jelly, remarking that they were easily taken and " would not hurt my throat." That was why they were chosen, of course. In the afternoon I had a visit from my Aunt Lavinia, who sat down with the remark that she would tell me all the news. " You remember Esther? " she began. Esther is my cousin and we were brought up together. How could 1 have forgotten her ? What she told me about Esther was of no consequence. Then sho told me how she had nearly lost her luggage at Brighton — she quite thought she had lost it, in fact — but, as it happened, it turned up. " And if I had lost it," she said, " it would have been dreadful, for I had a 'number of dear Stella's beautiful sketches in one of my trunks. Quite irreplaceable. However, it is all right." Then why tell mo? And so she rattled on. " You don't say anything," she said at last. (t. was true. I had said nothing. 1 told her what the doctor instructed. " Quite right," she remarked. " I wish other people even in good health could have the same prescription." Just before dinner my brother came in again. "You've had Aunt Lavinia here," ho said. I had. " Getting quite grey, 1 thought," he said. I had noticed it too. He was smoking, and while he was with me he emptied his pipe and filled it again. He thought he bad knocked the burning ash in the grato, but it had fallen in the turn-up of his right truusor leg. Should I tell him ? I wondered. He would, of course, find it out from the smell, but meanwhile the cloth would bo burned through. " Your trouser 's burning," I said. That was the only remark I volun- teered all that day; and really, except now and then on business, I don't see whv one should ever talk more. CURLING. (The (iame and how to Tiny it, t>y a Winter Sport.) TAKE a piece of ice (you '11 want, Switzerland for tin's). Draw two circles, 'one at each end. Draw a line a 1 short distance from each circle. The draw ing can be done with a pin, pocket- knife, diamond, axe, friend's razor or other edged or pointed instrument. I give no dimensions because they arc dull things and I hate guessing. Talk of the circles at each end as " houses " and the lines as "hogs," and yen are well on the road to become a curler. Take two narrow pieces of tin willi prickly eruptions on one side. Place one each end of the ice-patch, prickly sido down, and stamp on the smooth side. Why these pieces of tin are called " crampits " I can't tell you, un- less it 's just part of the fun. You now have a prepared patch that can be used for hop - scotch, shove- halfpenny, Rugby football or curling. If you have named the things as directed you really ought to use it for curling. W7o now come to the question of players. This is one of the most im- portant parts of the game. Four a side is the almost ideal number, but a few more or less do not make any very great difference. But be sura to get some Scotchmen. They take the game seriously and do much to make the whole affair bright and mirthful. A slight sprinkling of Irishmen often serves to bring out more prominently the flavour of the Scottish humour. Don't play for money unless you have the majority of Scotchmen on your side. Tho game is played with "stones," or, to use their Scotch pseudonym, i " stanes." To every man twa staues. You can either get your " stanes " in England and travel out with them, or hire them in the locality. They make the most pleasant travellingcompanions and at times are the cause of many amusing incidents which beguile the: tedium of the journey. Also they often' JANUARY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, 49 LIFE'S LITTLE TRAGEDIES. SHY AND NERVOUS HUSBAND, ABANDONED IN COSTUME DEPARTMENT BY HIS WIFE WHO HAS GOSE TO THE FITTING-ROOM TO HAVI1 HER DRESS FITTED, AND SURROUNDED BY TALL AND BEAUTEOUS YOUNG LADIES WHOSE ONLY BUSINESS SEEMS TO BE TO MAKK HlM FEEL LIKE A WORM. lead to your picking up chance ac- quaintances. I have known one stcne placed in a dimly lighted corridor of a train productive of much merriment and harmless banter. Being of con- siderable weight they do not readily respond to :i playful kick, hut having no j sharp corners they are seldom respon- sible for serious injury to the kicker. Every stone, when new, has a handle. Be careful to preserve the handle intact on the upper part of the stone. If this adjunct be lost or mislaid the stone is less amenable to transit and almost useless for its original purpose. You will also require a long-handled carpet-broom, which you will on arrival re-name a " cow." Most dressing-bags constructed for foreign travel are now totted with these useful and picturesque articles. The "cow" is used for two purposes. If you are lucky enough to be appointed scorer for your side you mark the score on the handle in sucli a way as to be indecipherable by everyone but yourself. This prevents disputes with regard to the accuracy of your arithmetic. You also use it to sweep the ice in front of a friendly stone which appears likely to give up prema- turely from exhaustion. (Sweeping is carried out under the direction of your captain, and the process is known in the vernacular as " sooping 'er oop." You are not allowed to retard the pro- gress of a stone, friendly or otherwise, by intentionally sweeping obstructions into its path. To discard a portion of your "cow" in front of a rapidly advancing stone is actionable. Over -enthusiasm in "sooping 'er 'oop " should be avoided. Ice is pro- verbially slippery, and if you fall on to a friendly stone from excess of energy or from debility, your side is "huffed" that stone. This is a serious matter, and even if you are able to continue the game you are looked on with disfavour by your friends. The object of the game is to get your stone as near as possible to the centre of the circle at the other end of the rink. With this object you stand on the piece of tin or "crampit" before referred to, grasp the stone lirmly by the handle and hurl it along the ice. It is almost essential to let go the stone at the right moment, otherwise it will burl you. The game is almost identical with the commoner game of " bowls," except for the language, which is worse. The term " wood " is in- appropriate and must be avoided, as the use of it may lay you under a charge of ignorance or flippancy, which you will find almost impossible to live down. 1 will conclude with a few hints to novices. Preserve a cool head and steady eye. Whilst you are playing your shot your captain will be dancing about in the circle at the other end of the ice. You will find it best to disregard his maniacal shoutings and gesticula- tions. You will probably not under- stand half of them and will not agree with the other half. If he should break a blood-vessel do not take any notice unless some part of his fallen body is likely to obstruct your stone. In this case you are entitled to have him moved. If, after you have played, cries of "hog" or "wobbler" arise, remember that you are engaged in a sport and not in politics and that there is nothing really offensive in the terms. Finally, never scoff at the language used, and above all remember that what is one man's game may be another's religion. 50 PUNCH, OH THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 21, 1914. " EH, BUT I HAD A RARE TIME LAST YEAR-E. A WAS AT MA COUSIN llAcWHUSKIE's A WHOLE FORRTNICHT, AN* A DIDNA OXCB KEX A WAS THEER 1 " REVENGE (Or, a Hint to a House-agent after coming away from his Office). Youn voice was pleasing and your face was fat ; With soap ad libitum you sought to dabble us ; But when I told 'you we must leave the flat Did I hot notice, underneath' the spat, The bifurcated boot that marks Diabolus ? I know that in a brief while you '11 have found The house I wanted (s?c), superbly roomy, With a fine view and every comfort crowned, A short three minutes from the«Underground ; Also I know that you are safe to " do " me. There will be something wrong; but you sball fill My ears with praises specious.aad, irrelevant Of. this and that ; and you shall have. your will, And heave a deep sigh when I 're-paid my bill, Having got off at last some rare white elephant. And when things happen to " The Yews " or " Plants ' Left by the Joneses like a haunt1 of. lazars; When the roof falls, or in the winter rains The dining-room breaks out in sudden blains, And every feast we have recalls BELSHAZZAB'S ; You shall be smiling. But you have not guessed One thing, for all your wisdom, child erf' Lucifer: You did not know I was a bard, whose •breast Could boil with bitter language when oppressed Like a bargee's ; if anything, abusiver. This is the high reward of sacred song; The minstrels' voices are lite falling honey When the gods please them, but when things go wrong They speak their mind out straight, and speak it strong, Especially on points concerned with money. So, if you " do me down," I have my lyre, And I shall trumpet (at the normal Press wage) Such things about that house, and with such tire, That all men ever after shall conspire To shun the said demesne and curse lhat messuage. And spiders on the broken panes shall sit, And the grey rats-shall scuttle in the basement, Until the Borough Council purchase it And cleanse and decorate, and lastly fit A fair blue -plaque above the study casement, Saying, " Here lived a while and wove his spell, liusebius Binks-the bard, the unforgotten ; The house is mentioned in his 'Linos to Hell,' Also the agents, Messrs. Azaxd, And the then drains which, so he sang, were rotten." EVOE. Tlic Dai!;/ Telegraph says of the Portsmouth Corporation telephone system : — " At present there arc 1,899 subscribers and 2,528 distinct telephones." Why doesn't the Post Office experiment with this new sort of telephone. " Yet it is necessary to state emphatically, although no representative of a daily newspaper seems to have been under this impression, that not for twenty years have I been so bored." C.K.S. in " 2Vrc Splurc," on (lit ' Edwin Drood ' trial. But how are the poor reporters to know so much about • C.K.S. as that ? PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 21, 1914. COULEUR D'OBANGE. MB. ASQUITH (on the Riviera). "LUCKY FOR ME THERE AREN'T ANY 'CONVERSATIONS' HERE— I MIGHT AGREE TO ALMOST ANYTHING." JANL-AHY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE POST OFFICE AGAIN. DEAR UNCLE, — Its your birthday to-day. 1 sent you some nice pairs of hankercliifs because its your birth- day. They for your nose. Its funny our birthdays being so close. And now no more from your loving neice NANCY. MY DEAR NANCY, --Thank you very much indeed for the nice pocket- handkerchiefs. I am very pleased with them. Nobody has ever troubled to give me handkerchiefs before with pretty flowers worked in the corners. 1 hiive been wearing them to-day, or rather one of them. They are so nice that I really meant to have kept them specially for parties and things like that, but, as I was obliged to leave homo in a great hurry this morning, and someone had hidden my everyday Ir.u id kerchiefs, I took one of your?. Such a funny thing has happened. I sent you for your birthday a pretty card with birds on it, and somehow or other it got taken in quite a different direction, and was returned to me this morning by — whom do you think? Auntie Maud, all the way away in Ireland. But we mustn't blame the Postmaster - General without being absolutely sure of ourselves. It is very difficult in mysterious cases like this to be absolutely sure. Didn't you get my parcel? I sent it off at the same time as I sent the card, and 1 haven't had the parcel back. I wonder where it is. It looks as though things were going on that you and I know nothing about. I shall be very angry with him if he has forgotten to give you your parcel. Hoping you are quite well, thank you, Your loving UNCLE HENRY. DEAR UNCLE, — Thank you for your pretty card for my birthday. I didnt got your parsel. Its very naughty of him when its my birthday, I hop youll be very very angry with him because its my birthday and I didnt get your parsel. And now no more from your loving neiuo NANCY. Tit!' Postmaster-General. SIR, — On Tuesday last I despatched by book-post a parcel from the South- Western District Office. It is now Friday, and the parcel has not been delivered. I should esteem it a favour if you would kindly give the Oflicial Handicapper for the District in question instructions to allow my parcel to start forthwith. Yours faithfully, HY. FRESHFIELD. The Postmaster-General. SIR, — In reply to your enquiry as to the nature of the parcel, I beg to inform \\I1AT TO UO WITH OUR FAT MEN; OR, EVERY LITTLE HELPS. you that it was oblong in shape and done up in brown paper and tied securely with string. To assist you still further in the task of identifica- tion,! may mention that it is addressed to Miss Nancy Freshiield, c/o F. E. L. Freshfield, Esq., 47, Ottalie Gardens, Westminster, S.W. Trusting that nothing serious has occurred to disqualify my parcel, Yours faithfully, HY. FKKSUFIELD. DEAR UNCLE, — I thought it was such a long time my parsel didnt come I would write to you dear Uncle. I hop you were very angry with him. And j now no more from your loving ncice NANCY. DEAR SIR, — I am directed by the Postmaster-General to inform you that your parcel has now been traced. The name of the addressee was correctly stated by you, but you omitted to append such further instructions for the guidance of the Post Office as to indicate the destination to which you desired it to go. I have the pleasure to add that the fuller information has been copied in from your letter, and the parcel despatched. . . . DEAR NANCY,- By the same post that brought me your letter 1 heard from our absent-minded friend, the Postmaster-General. You will be pained to learn that he is even more absent- minded than we thought ho was. Although, when I handed him your parcel, I distinctly told him it was going to Westminster, the moment my back is turned he must needs forget all about it. I feel really rather sorry for him, and I don't think we ought to be angry any more. He can't possibly forget now, because I have written the address down for him. Your loving UNCLE HENRY. 54 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [.JANUARY 21, 1914. A CABINET CRISIS. IT had to be faced at last. There is a demand for them occasionally, an<J people won't put up with that excellent one taken under the crab-apple tree any longer. 1 was caught just right there. The sun was in an indulgent mood and winked at the signs of advancing age. The bald patch was out of sight, and the smile would have softened the heart of an income-tax assessor. I acquired the negative from the amateur performer, and had it vig- netted, which made it better still, as there was a space between the cash- mere sock and the spring trousering in the original that I did not want atten- tion drawn to. I had a large number of prints made, and dealt them out to anybody who asked for a photograph of me. At first they aroused consider- able enthusiasm, but after five or six years a look of doubt began to appear on the faces of the recipients. Hadn't I got a later one? This was very nice, but — I pointed out that I hadn't changed at all, or only a very little. At my best I was still like that; and didn't they want me at my best ? At last a person described by himself as plain-spoken, and by other people as offensively rude, said that 1 had never really been as good-looking as that, with all possible allowances made, and any way be wanted a photograph and not a memorial card. I took a firm stand, and said that if he wasn't satisfied with that one he could go without altogether, and he said in the most insulting way that be supposed he should be himself again in time if he took a tonic. A few more episodes of that sort eventually drove me to it. I passed my viwt-voee examination at the hands of the young lady at the desk, paid my fees, got my testamur, and was shown into the torture -chamber, where the head executioner was busy adjusting his racks and screws. I was rather taken with the rustic seat that was standing on a white fur mat in front of a scene representing the Jungfrau, but ho headed, mo off it. If I liked the Jungfrau as a background I could have it, but not with the seat ; | that was for engaged couples only. He recommended a pair of skis, or a bob- sleigh ; he could put a fine fall of snow into the negative. But as I had arrayed myself in a black coat, with one of those white waistcoat slips, and a flowing tie with a pearl pin, I refused this offer, and we decided we wouldn't have a background at all. As the man who administered the laughing gas was out at lunch, I ! S-ur "WORK I I'M NOT AFEAID O1 WORK, BUT I CAN'T GET iXY IS MY LINE." "WHAT IS TOCB LINE?" "I USED TO BE A STOCKBROKER, I.IDT." prepared to go through with it in cold blood, and seated myself in the operat- ing chair in the most natural attitude I could assume — something like the one I had taken -under the crab-tree. I thought I would show them that there wasn't so much difference after all. But it did not suit the head mechanic at all. He looked at me with his head on one side, and then took hold of mine by the chin and the hair and gave it a twist. I had never worn it at that angle in my life, and I knew it would put my collar all wrong ; but I had to do what ho told me. He arranged my (coat so that it should look as if it had been made to fit somebody else, and disposed my arms in such a way as to give the sleeves the appearance of trouser legs with rucks in them. I felt almost more sorry for my tailor than for myself, but I shall send him one of the prints when I get them ; it will be good for him. We were now ready to tackle the expression. I had chosen one that would have been suitable for a man with a fair No Trump hand, but with one suit not fully guarded, as I didn'b want to overdo it; but, judging from the inquisitor's remarks about the graveside, I am quite ready to admit that it might not have come out like that. I hastily dealt myself a hundred aces and a long suit of clubs, and he said that that was better, but I must put off the idea of the funeral altogether. It was not until I had assumed the appearance of a reach-me-down Nut with a dislocated neck, being made love to by six chorus- girls at once, that he con- descended to take a look at me through the peephole. Then be ran up to me, gave my chin another hitch, pulled my neck another foot or two out of my collar, added a ruck or two to my sleeves, and said he liked the other side of my face better, after all. So we went through it all again, and I worked at it with a will, for I wanted to see him get under his black cloth and finish thebusiness. It wasn't as bad as I had thought, but he was not done by any means when he had fired his first shot. He rammed more cartridges into the breach, and twisted me into three fresh contortions. He said he was sure that some of the efforts would turn out magnificently. I don't feel quite the same confidence myself. I am anxiously awaiting the result, and trying to get rid of the crick in my neck and to unbuckle the smile in the meantime. If it doesn't turn out satisfactorily, I shall get a few lines — not too deep — put into the negative of the one taken under the crab-tree, and a little hair painted out — but not too much. " Lcmnos and Samotbraoe arc to pass to Greece, and Chios and Wtlylene are to be neutralised. ' ' — Daily Citizen. We shall remain anxious until the last-named is sterilized. JANUARY 21, 1914.] rrxcii, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 55 THE TRAGEDY OF MIDDLE AGE. WHEN I was a mid-Victorian nut With a delicate taste in ties, A highly elegant figure I cut, At least in my own fond eyes, And used to regard un waxed moustaches As one of the worst of social laches. But now 1 find in my youngest son The sternest of autocrats. He tells me the things that must he done And orders my collars and spats ; ribes mild exercise on the links And advises me on the choice of drinks. 1 've faithfully striven to imitate My Mentor in dress and diction, And loyally laboured to cultivate A taste for the latest fiction ; Though I still read DICKENS upon the sly, And even SCOTT, when nobody 's by. It 's true I 'vo managed to draw the line At going to tango teas, For, after all, I am fifty-nine And a trifle stiff in the knees ; But I 've had to give up billiards for "slosh," And pay laborious homage to " squash." Long since my whiskers I had to shave To please this young barbarian, But still for a while I stealthily clave To the use of Pommade Hungarian ; But now my tyrant has made me snip The glory and pride of my upper lip. "My dear old man," he recently said, " If you go on waxing the ends, You're bound to be cut, direct and dead, By all of my nuttiest friends. For it's only done, so The Mail dis- covers, By Labour leaders and taxi-shovcrs." So the deed was done, but whenever I gaze On my face in the glass I moan As I think of the mid- Victorian days When my upper lip was my own. For now, of length and of breadth bereft, The ghost of a tooth-brush is all that 's left. "MISSING NAVY PAYMASTER ARRESTED." "Evening Standard" Poster. So that 's where it was all the time ! "The Under-shot iff said .... rumours against a man's character were liku a rolling stone, gathering moss as it went." Western Mai}. "As fond of the fire as a burnt child," is another of the Under .Sheriff's favourite sayings. Indulgent Householder. " WHY ARE yon SIXGISCI CAROLS, MY LITTLE MAN? DON'T YOU KNOW CHRISTMAS is OVER?" Youthful Caroller. "YES, SIR; BUT I 'AD MEASLES ALL FHOO CHRISTMAS." ONCE UPON A TIME. GLAMOUR. ONCE upon a time there was a peer who knew the frailty of unennobled man. Having occasion to entertain at dinner a number of useful fellows, he instructed his butler to transfer the labels from a number of empty bottles of champagne to an equal number of magnums of dry ginger-ale, at ten shillings tho dozen, and these were placed on the table. At the beginning of the repast his lordship casually drew attention to the wine which he was giving his guests, and asked for their candid opinion of it, as he was aware that they were all good judges, who knew a good thing when they saw it, and he would value their opinion. And they one and all said it was an excellent champagne, and two or three made a note of it in their pocket-books. And such was their loyal enthusiasm that the banquet ended in a fine glow of something exactly like hilarity. 56 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 21, 1914. AT THE PLAY. " MABY-GlRL." "I'M not going to give up my daily bath ! " In these pregnant and moving words rang the cri dc ca-ur -which was to precipitate the .tragedy of Mury Sheppard. To you the attitude of mind which provoked this cry may seem as natural as it was sanitary. But you must understand that it ran directly counter to Ezra Shcppard's ideal of the simple God-fearing life. Godliness with him came first, and cleanliness followed where it could. In his view a tub once a week was all that any sane person should need. Apart from this hebdomadal use its proper function was to hold dirty dishes and 'soiled clothes for' the washing. And indeed this had at one time been Mary's own view (though tempered by vague aspira- tions towards a softer existence, as we might have guessed from the elegance of her brown shoes) before a year of the higher life had shaken her content. Let us go back. Ezra Sheppard was by profession a market-gardener, and his favourite re- creation was preaching in a barn. We have the picture of a frugal but happy interior, with a new-born infant (off). The trouble began with an offer made to his wife of a situation as foster- mother to the baby (also off) of a neighbouring Countess. The wages were to be high and she was to be delicately entreated ; but there were hard conditions. She was not to hold communication with her husband or child for twelve months. I am sorry to say that Mary did not Hindi from these conditions quite so much as I could have hoped. Ezra, however, rejected them for her with manly scorn, until he was reminded that the high wages would speed the end of his own ambitions — namely, to replace his barn with a conventicle of brick. So ho let his wife loose into Eden with the Serpent. And now we see Mary seated in the lap of luxury, with soft gowns to wear, and peaches to eat and instant slaves at her beck. You will, of course, expect her virtue to fall an easy prey ; but you will be wrong. The Earl's attitude is pleasantly parental, and the attentions of the Countess's cavalier — an author • — are confined to the extraction of copy. And anyhow Mary's instincts are sound. Now and again she remembers to pity the loneliness of her husband, whoso cottage light she can see from the window of her bower ; and once, by a ruse, she gets him to break the con- ditions and visit her ; but when he learns that the invitation came from her, and not, as alleged, from the Countess, his conscience will not per- mit him to take advantage of his chance. So you have the unusual spectacle of a true and loving wife pleading in vain for the embraces of her true and loving husband. But if her virtue, in the technical sense, remained intact, the Serpent had overfed her with pommes de luxe.. On her return home — where the restora- tion of her child might have helped matters, but it dossn't know who she is and refuses to part from its foster- mother — we find her lethargic, off her feed, indifferent to the claims of menial toil, and clamorous (as I have shown) for her rights of the uaily hath. In the first joy of conjugal reunion Mr. McKixxEi, (Ezra Slieppard) to Miss MAY BLAYKEY (Mary Sheppird). "You've been lying again ! You know how I hate it — I told you so in this very theatre when we were playing in Beticccn Sunset and Dawn." Ezra consents to tolerate the discomfort of this change, but in the end he loses patience and hits her. She leaves for London the same afternoon. Six black months pass over the husband's bowed head, and then, on a very windy night (the wind was well done) , she makes a re-entry , and confesses that, under stress of need, she has lapsed from virtue. This is bad news for Ezra, but he is prepared to forgive a fault in which he himself has had a fair share. Only there must be a sacrifice of something, if moral justice is to be appeased. So he chooses be- tween his wife and his chapel and does execution on the latter. He goes out into the storm and sets the thing alight. II is conscience is thus purified by fire, the gale being favourable to arson. It is a pity that so excellent an object as a brick chapel should bo the evil genius of the play. Yet so it is. Built of the materials of Scandinavian drama, it is always just round the corner, heavy with doom. We never see it, but we hear more than enough about it, and in the end it becomi-s a bore which we are well rid of. The theme of the perils of foster- motherhood is not ; new,- but Mrs. MKHIUCK has treated it freshly and with a very. decent avoidance of its strictly sexual aspects. But her methods are too sedentary. She kept on with her atmosphere long after we knew the details of the cottage interior by heart ; while a whole volume of active tragedy — Mary's six months in London — was left to our fevered imagination. And the sense of reality which she was at such pains to create was spoiled by dialogue freely carried on in'the imme- diate vicinity of persons who were not supposed to overhear it. The chief attraction of Marti -Girl (a silly title) was the engaging personality of Miss MAY BLAYNEY. Always a fascinating figure to watch, she showed an extraordinary sensitiveness of voice and expression. As for that honest and admirable actor, Mr. McKiNNEL, who made the perfect foil to her charms that every good husband should wish to be, he soems never to tire of playing these stern, dour, semi -brutal parts. That more genial characters are open to him his success in Great Catherine showed. Miss MARY BROUGH, as a charwoman, supplied a rare need with her richly- flavoured humour and its clipped sentences. All the rest did themelves justice. Miss HELEN FERRERS was a shade more aristocratic than the aristocrat of stage tradition ; and it was not the fault of Miss DOROTHY FANE (as her daughter, Lady Folking- ton) that she was required to behave incredibly in the presence of her in- feriors. I have not much to say for the manners of Society in its own circles ; but it is probably at its best in its intercourse with humbler neigh- bours. Mrs. MEURICK'S picture of the Countess on a visit to the Sheppanh' cottage might have been designed for a poster of the Land Campaign. There was no dissenting note, I am glad to say, in the reception of Mrs. MERRICK'S charming self when she appeared after the fall of the curtain. " A pretty authoress ! " said an actress in the stalls. " Is that your comment on the play ? " I asked. " Yes !" she said. O. S. " Her Majesty was accompanied by Princess Henry and John." — Liverpool Echo. Where' was Lord SAYE AND SELE ? JAKDABY 21, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 57 • COME, COME, Sir.! THAT'S THE HOUSE WE KKF.I- rcn QUITE TOUXG cmr,i;Ki;x ! HE WANTS TO PLAY WITH YOU, SIB!" THE LAST STRAW. I SING the sofa ! It liacl stood for years, An invitation to benign repose, A foe to all the fretful brood of fears, Bidding the weary eye-lid sink and close. Massive and deep and broad it was and bland — In short the noblest sofa in the land. You, too, my friend, my solid friend, I sing, Whom on an afternoon I did behold Eying — 'twas after lunch — the cushioned thing. And murmuring gently, " Here are realms of gold, And I shall visit them," you said, " and be The sofa's burden till it 's time for tea." " Let those who will go forth," you said, " and dare, Beyond the cluster of the little shops, To strain their limbs and take the eager air, Seeking the heights of Hedsor and its copse. I shall abide and watch the far-off' gleams Of fairy beacons from the world of dreams." Then forth we fared, and you, no doubt, lay down, An easy victim to the sofa's charms, Forgetting hopes of fame and past renown, Lapped in those padded and alluring arms. "How well," you said, and veiled your heavy eyes, " It slopes to suit me ! This is Paradise." So we adventured to the topmost hill, And, when the sunset shot tho sky with red, Homeward returned and found you taking still Deep draughts of peace with pillows 'neath Your. head. " His sleep," said one, " has been unduly long." Another said, " Let 's bring and beat tho gong." " Gongs," said a third and gazed with looks intent At the full sofa, " are not adequate. There fits some dread, some heavy, punishment For one who sleeps with such a dreadful weight. Behold with me," he moaned, "a scene accurst. The springs are broken and the sofa 's burst 1 " Too true ! Too true ! Beneath you on the floor Lay blent in ruin all the obscure things That were the sofa's strength, a scattered store Of tacks and battens and protruded springs. Through the rent ticking they had all been spilt, Mute proofs and mournful of your weight and guilt. And you ? You slept as sweetly as a child, And when you woke you recked not of your shamo. But babbled greetings, stretched yourself and smiled From that eviscerated sofa's frame, Which, flawless erst, was now one mighty flaw Through the addition of yourself as straw. E.C.L. " A really acceptable present for a lady is a nice, piece of artificial hair, as, when not absolutely necessary, it is always useful and orna- mental."— Advt. in " Aberdeen Free 1'ress." Still, it might be misunderstood. "Theologians ami mystics might say, 'Is that not mere, anthro- pomrhpism ? ' " — Mi: BALFOUB according to " The Daily Mail." But a Welshman would say it best. " An aggressive minority succeeded in showing that the IjittloNavy- itcs do not represent the bulk of public opinion." — Daily Kapress. It is, of course, always the aggressive minority which really represents the bulk of public opinion. 58 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 21, 1914. A BYGONE. WHKN I see the white-haired and venerable Thompson standing behind my equally white-haired but much loss venerable father at dinner, exuding an atmosphere of worth and uprightness and checking by his mere silent presence the more flippant tendencies of our conversation ; when I hear him whisper into my youthful son's car, " Sherry, Sir? " in the voice of a tolerant teetotaler who would not force his principles upon any man but hopes sincerely that this one will say No; and when I am informed that he promised our boolhoy a rapid and inevitable descent to a stale of infamy and destitution upon dis- covering no more than the fag end of a cigarette behind his ear, then I am tempted to recall an incident of fifteen years hack, lest it be forgotten that Thompson is a man like ourselves who has known, and even .owned, a human weakness. Dinner had begun on that eventful evening at 7.30 P.M., and it was drawing within sight of a conclusion, that is, the s\veet had been eaten and the savoury was overdue, at 9.4o r.ir. Four of us had trailed thus far through this critical meal: my father, a usually patient widower who was becoming more than restless ; the Robinsons, never a jocund brace of guests, who were by now positively sullen, and myself who, being but a boy of twenty odd years and having little enough to say to a woman of fifty-live and her still more antique husband, had long ago settled down to a determined silence. Mean- while Thompson, then in his first year of service with us, tarried mysteriously heaven knows where. The intervals of preparation before each course had been growing longer and longer and the pause before the savoury threatened to be infinite. My father commanded me to ring the bell severely. Longing to escape from the table I did so with emphasis, and my ring summoned (to our surprise, for we were not aware of her existence in the house) a slightly soiled kitchen-maid. " Where is Thompson ? " asked my father sternly. " At the telephone, Sir," stammered the maid. "The telephone!" cried my father. " Whatever is the matter? " The maid started to mumble an explanation, burst into tears and fled in alarm, never again to emerge from the back regions. My father com- manded me to the bell again, but as I rose Thompson entered. He was even then a stately and dignified person, and it was with a measured tread and slow that he advanced upon my father. " Will you please serve the savoury at once? " said my father. " I am afraid it cannot bo done, Sir," said Thompson. " May I explain, Sir ? " "What is the meaning of this?" asked my father, fearing some terrible disaster below stairs, and sacrificing politeness to his guests with the hope of saving lives in the kitchen. Thompson cleared his throat. " For some weeks, Sir," ho said, " I have bean much worried with financial affairs. Like a fool I have invested all my savings in speculative shares, and the variations of the market have unduly depressed me. When I am depressed I take no food, and that depresses me even more." You will be as surprised as wo were that this was allowed to continue, but when a man of so few words as Thompson, chooses to come out of his shell ho is always master of the siiua- tion. " And so, Sir," he continued, " I have taken the liberty of telephoning to the mews for a cab." He paused and bowed, as if this made it all clear, and was .about to withdraw. " Kindly finish serving dinner at once, and don't be impudent," my father got out at last. Thompson sighed. " It is absolutely out of the question, Sir," said ho. " Quite, quite impossible." " Why on earth ? " cried my father. Thompson became, if possible, more solemn and deliberate than before. " I am drunk, Sir," said he. At this point Mrs. Robinson, whose indignation had slowly been swelling within her, rose and left the room. Robinson, as in duty bound, followed. Neither of them, to my infinite joy, has ever returned . . . " Depressed by want of food, Sir," continued Thompson, by sheer duress preventing my father from following his guests and attempting to pacify them, " I have taken to spirits. I do not like the taste of spirits and they go at once to my head. They depress me further, Sir, but they in- toxicate me. Yes, 1 am undoubtedly tipsy." My father sei/ed the opportunity of his pause for reflection to order him to leave the room and present himself in the morning when he was sober. " You dismiss us without notice, Sir," ho stated, referring to himself and his wife in the kitchen. " First thing in the morning we go. And so I have ordered the cab to take us." This was a very proper fate for j Thompson but came a little hard on my I father. "But what am / to do?" asked he. Thompson regarded him with a desultory smile. " The Mews desires to know, Sir," said he, " who will pav for the cab?" . I-ought to be able to state that there followed with the cold light of day an apology, with passionate tears and re- morse, from Thompson, or at least a severe reprimand from my father before he consented to keep him on. J regret to say that my father, next morning, postponed the interview till the evening, and from the evening till the next morning, and — that interview is still pending. If this seems weak, you have only to see Thompson to realize that no man with any sense of the in- congruous could even mention the word " Drink" in his presence. As for the cab which Thompson had ordered, though we never saw it wo later heard all about it. It went to the wrong house because, as the proprietor of the mews informed us with shame and regret, the driver entrusted with the order had been very much under the influence of alcohol. Altogether it is a sordid tale, made no better by the fact that the house which the drunken driver chose to go to and insult was the Robinsons' . . , LOVE AT THE CINEMA. INERT I watched the Hero sacked For lapses clearly not his own ; The midnight murder on the cliff, The wonted ante-nuptial tiff, The orange-blossoms, bored mo stiff'. The picture-hall was simply packed, .But I was all alone. Alone ! Two little hours could span The gloom that bound me stark and grim (No melancholy pierced me through Before the 7.32 Had ravished Barbara from view), And yet I brooked it like a man Until I noticed HIM. He sat extravagantly near His Heart's Delight. To my distress, When temporary twilight fell, He squeezed her hand (and squeezed it well !), Possessed her waist, and in that shell, That damask shell she calls an ear, Breathed words of tenderness. The blood ran riot to my head And still I held my madness tin-all, My lips repressed the frenzied shriek, My straining heart was stout as teak ; But, when he kissed her mantling cheek, I broke — and two attendants led Mo wailing from the hall. THE LOST CHRISTMAS PRESENT. Maid (to pottiiian delivering long-delayed parcel). "WHAT is IT?" Postman. "LABEL SAYS, ' WILD DECKS,' BUT THEY 'KM 'IJMMING-DIUDS NOW. OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.) THERE is at least ono thing that will surprise you about It Happened in Egypt (METHUEN),aud that is that, although C. N. and A. M. WILLIAMSON are the writers, motor-cars are hardly so much as mentioned throughout. It is a talc of tho Nile and the Desert, of camels and caravans, told with a quite extraordinary power of making you feel that you have visited the scenes described. But this, of course, if you have any previous experience of tho WILLIAMSON method, will not surprise you at all. As for the story that strings the scenes together, though it promised well, with almost every possible element of fictional excitement — buried treasure, and spies, and abductions, and secrets — somehow the result was not wholly up to the expectation thus created. To borrow an appropriate simile, tho groat thrill remained something of a mirage, always in sight and never actually reached. Also I wish to record my passionate protest against stories of treasure-trovo in which the treasure is not taken away in sacks and used to enrich the hunters ; I am all against leaving it underground, for whatever charm- ing and romantic reasons. No, it is not so much as a novel of adventure that might have happened pretty well anywhere that I advise you to read this book, but as a super-guide to scenes and sensations that happen in Egypt and nowhere else. From the moment when, as one of the WILLIAMSON party, you sit down to breakfast on the terrace of Shep- herd's, till you take leave of your fellow-travellers in the mountain-tomb of QUEEN CANDACI:, you will enjoy the nearest possible approach' to a luxurious Egyptian tour, under delightful guidance, and at an inclusive fare of six shillings. Mr. SETON GORDON is a bold man. It is one thing t ) call a book Tho Charm of the Hills (CASSELL) and quits another to succeed in conveying that charm through the medium of the printed word. Perhaps, however, he was encouraged by the success that has already attended these pen-pictures of Highland scenes in serial form ; certainly he knew also that he had another source of strength in a collection of the most fascinating photographs of mountain scenery and wild life, nearly a hundred of which are repro- duced in the present volume. So that what Mr. GORDON the writer fails to convey about his favourite haunts (which is not much) Mr. GORDON the photographer is ready to supply. Tho papers, which range in subject from ptarmi- gan to cairngorms, are written with an engaging simplicity and directness, and show a sympathetic knowledge of wild nature sucli as is the reward only of long familiarity. The glorious mountain wind blows through them all, so that as you read you feel the heather brushing your knees, and see the clouds massing on the peaks of Ben-something-or-other. Perhaps Mr. GORDON is at his most interesting on the sub- ject of tho Golden Eagle. There are many striking snap- shots of tho king of birds in his royal homo; and some stories of court life in an eyrie that are fresh and enthralling. One thing that I was specially glad to learn on so good authority is that the Golden Eagle, so far from being threatened with extinction, is actually increasing in the 60 1-T'NCH, OR TIJE LOKL'ON CIIAIIR'AKT. [JANUARY 21, 1011. deer forests of the North. This is intelligence as welcome a3 it is nowadays unusual. The book, which is published at 10s. 6d. net, is dedicated " to one who loves the glens and con-ies of the hills"; and all who answer to this de- scription should he grateful to the writer for his delightful record. Goodness knows that of all London's teeming millions I am the possessor of the most easily curdled blood, but my ilesh declined to creep an inch from the first page to the last of Animal Ghosts (RIDER). I think it was Mr. ELLIOTT O'DONNELL'S way of telling his stories that was responsible for my indifference. He is so incorrigibly reti- cent. His idea of a well-told ghost story runs on these lines: — "In the year 189-, in the picturesque village of C — , hard by the manufacturing town of L — . there lived a wealthy gentleman named T — with his cousin F — and two friends M — and R — .". I simply refuse to take any interest in the spectres of initials, still less in the spectres of the domestic pets of initials. I am no bigot ; by all means deny your ghost his prerogative of clanking chains and rattling bones ; but there are certain points on which I do take a firm stand, and this matter of initials is one of them. Not one of these stories is convincing. Mr. O'DoNNELL taps you on the chest and whispers hoarsely," As I stood there my blood congealed, I could scarcely breathe. My scalp bristled;" and you, if you are like me, hide a yawn and say, " No, really ? " There "is a breezy carelessness, too, about his methods which kills a story. He distinctly states, for in- stance, that the story of the " Headless Cat of No. — , Lower Seedley Street, Manchester," was told to him by a Mr. ROISERT DANE. In the first half of the narrative this gentleman's brother-in-law addresses him as Jacl;, and later on his wife says to him, "Oh, Edward." What a man whose own Christian name is so much a matter of opinion has to say about seeing headless cats does not Kt'L'in to me to be evidence. The special skill of the letters is their self- revelation, which brings out the patl.os of the writer's position, while at flip, sumo time showing quite clearly the defects that explained it. Mr. LrcAS, in short, does not commit the error of making his hero merely a mute, misunderstood paragon, whom anyone with common penetration must have rec nised as such. On the contrary, we sympathise with him, in the big tragedy of his life, while quite admitting that to any casual acquaintance he must have appeared only a dull and uninteresting egoist. This I call clever, bet;. it shows that Mr. LUCAS has created a real thinker, rather than striven to give him any unusual profundity of thought. An agreeable book. In the sixteentli chapter of the First Part of The Pocks of Valprt (FISHER UNWIN) Trevor Mordaunt married WyiuUimn, and on the last page (which is the 511th) of the book, "she opened to him the doors of her soul, and drew him within. ONE OF Tin: FK\V HISTORIC MANSIONS OF ENGLAND WHERE QUEEX ELIZA- BETH DID KOT SLEEP. There seems to be an increasing public for the volume of reflections. At all events Mr. REGINALD LUCAS, who has already two or three successes in this kind to his credit, has been encouraged to produce another, to which he has given the pleasant title of The Measure of our Thoughts (HUMPHREYS). It is, of course, difficult to be critical with a book like this ; either it pleases the reader or it doesn't, and that is about all that can be said. One reason for my belief that Mr. LUCAS'S Thoughts will please is that he has put them into the brain of a definitely conceived and very well drawn character. They are told in the form of letters by this character to his old tutor. The writer is supposed to be the rather unattractive and self-conscious eldest son of a noble house, who suffers from the presence of a father and sister who think him a fool, and a brother whose charm is a continual and painful contrast to his own lack of it. squirm by using his steely eyes. Granted that Mordaunt, with the eyes of tiled, was not exactly an on- coining man and that when he married Chris- tine he received, as wed- ding presents, two or three brothers - in - law who sponged hopelessly upon him, I still think I that Miss ETHEL DEIJ, I lias given us too detailed an accountof thedomestic differences between Mor- daunt and his wife. For my own part I became frankly tired of the pecuniary crises of the Wyndhams and of their incurable inability to toll the truth. Had Mor- daunt got up and given these feckless brethren a sound hiding I should have been relieved, but he preferred to make them 1 n the future I suggest to Miss DELL that she should leave these strong silent men alone. They have had their day and gone out of vogue. The best part of this book, and indeed the best work Miss DELL has yet done, is her treatment of the romantic friend- ship between Christine and liertrand do Montvillc. It is handled so touchingly and so surely that I resent with all the more peevishness the banality of the steel-eyed one. "His lordship dismissed the application, with costs, and the jury found in his favour, assessing the damages at £1,000." We should like to be a Judge. It seems to be easy and well-paid work. From the synopsis of a Singapore play — just the last scene or two : — " Samion, after going through Nyai Dasima's fortune, maltreated her, and told her to leave his protection. Ho also commissioned a wicked man called Puasa to murder Nyai Dasima. Puasa murdered Dasima, and threw her body into a river. The corpse of Dasima floated and entangled in the bathing-place of William. William, seeing this, at once reported to the Police of Dasima's death. Puasa and others were arrested and imprisoned. The Judge investigated tho case, and Puasa was sentenced to bo hanged. Samion got mad and died. Mah Buyong also got mad." And so home to bed. JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, Oil TJIK LONDON CHARIVARI. Gl CHARIVARIA. LOBU HOWARD DE WAT,V>KN is starting a movement with the admirable object of reinvigorating the drama in "Wales by forming a travelling troupe of first- rate actors. It is rumoured that an option has already been obtained on a native comedian who is at present a member of the Cabinet. The CHAXCKLLOU OF THE EXCHEQUER received last week a deputation of the Men of Kent in order to hear their views in support of the preservation of the custom of gavelkind ; and many ] persons, wo believe, were surprised to, hear that it is a custom and not a; disease. ... ... Mr. RAMSAY MA<'])O:V\I.I>. in a speech at Dundee last w e e k , described Mr. CHUKCHILL as the worst I liberal First Lord of the Admiralty that bad ever occupied the position. It is reported that the right hon- ourable gentleman is having a large number of copies ol this statement printed off as a testimonial. "The Labour organ, The ing Chronicle," says a Johannesburg telegram, " ap- • peared to-day with the leader! column blank." The leaders1 were, of course, all in gaol. In addition to Sir EKNKST BHACKI/ETON'S little party an] Austrian expedition to the Antarctic is also being or- ganised. Such persons as were intending to go to these regions in the hope of finding — quiet and rest there would do well to hesitate, for it looks as if they may be rather overcrowded. "The American Ambassador," we read last week, " is confined to his room at the Embassy owing to a cold." Colds, ^o know, are nasty catching things, hut we consider it shows cowardice on the part of the staff to have, apparently, locked their chief in his room. ... ... The Duke of ATHOI.I, celebrated his jubilee as head of the house of STKWAUT- MuKKAY last week. In these days to have remained a Duke for so long as fifty years shows no little grit. '•A Farnham resident," a contem- porary informs us, "was badly stung by a wasp last week." At this time of year these insects are apt to sting badly, but in the summer they do it quite well. The Roman Temple which has occu- pied a prominent position in the grounds of the Crystal Palace during (lie last three years is to be removed to Path, and re-erecled there. To the grave regret, of the elite of Sydenham, an attempt to get Kew to take over the large glass house has failed. A little while ago, at the Palladium, there was a Moore and Burgess revival. It has evidently been discovered that there is a taste for this sort of enter- tainment, for it is now announced that Mr. OSCAU ASIHK will produce this year One likes to learn bow to cool oneself after a visit to a crater. A liitle girl of our acquaintance has given the most vivid description of a cold that we have yet heard. " Well, Phyllis," we said, "how goes it to- day'1" "Horrid," came the answer. "Have to make myself breathe." " For the first time for foi 'ky years," The Daily Mail tells ns, " a wild swan, supposed to have flown across the North Sea, has been shot in the marshes of the Isle of Sheppey." It does not say much for the marksmanship of the ' local sportsmen that this poor creature j should have been shot at all those years without being hit. We learn from The Tailor and Cutter that a garment of double fabric, with india- rubber balls inside to absorb the shock, has been designed for motorists by a Budapest I tailor. But surely it is rather j the pedestrian who needs this armour? ... ... Mr. W. McDoirtiAM, de- clared in a lecture at the Royal Institution last week that the cranial capacity of the savage was equal to that of the average Oxford under- graduate. Cambridge lias suspected this for years. 7-'/<W Urchin. " SEK, 'EBB, A AIBECPLASE ! ' Second Urchin. "\\'HEBE?" First Urchin. "SEE, THERE — THAT LOOSE BIT. a play by Sir RIDER HAGGARD in which the popular actor and his wife will appear as Zulus. :;: :;: Joseph, we read, is to be produced at Covent Garden next week. Appar- ently Sir HEKHEHT TUBE'S friend has now parted from his Brethren. A lady in the front of the first circle at Drury Lane, The Express tells us, laughed so heartily the other day in the paper-banging scene that her artificial teeth fell out and dropped into the stalls. This accentuates the importance of haying one's teeth plainly marked with one's no me and address. Mr. Fred Btirlingham, who recently descended into the heart of Vesuvius, lias written a book entitled "How to become an Alpinist." The idea is good. sea being wet. "A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea." " Hitherto more or less content with a wet sea and a flowing sail . . ." " Times " Iiitcrary Supplement. It would be terrible if The Times disapproved of the " Mci/ni'i.Y You: ISCOMJ-: i:v 3. £152 X 8 = ;6375 Think what you could do if you had three times the income you have now." Advt. in "Chwolt Times." Sums perhaps. " Mr. It. G. Knowles, the famous comedian, is now out of danger, and, acting on his doctor's orders, will start on Thursday for a trip to the Argentine. He will be back ill 1. '.IK li.ii before the end of Barch." Liverpool Dailii r«.-t. Without that biserable cold, we hope. Our Picturesque Language. Extract from Japanese letter : — " Our markets do not improve yet but ns I working hard as twice than last year our busi- ness do not much decay than other person, which ] am glad." We share this gentleman s joy. VOL. CXLVI. 62 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANCAHY i>H, 1'JH. A COCKAIGNE OF DREAMS. [Based on Sir AKTON WJ:HH'H recent vision of what London might be like in a hundred years' time.] THANKS to a gift of piercing sight (Not far removed from that of MOSES), Beyond the secular veil of night 1 fee a City crowned with light, A London redolent of roses. I note an air of morning prime, As used hy bards for their afflatus, Recovered from the spacious time Ere yet a triple coat of grime Had blocked our breathing-apparatus. Swept clean of smuts and chimney-stacks Each roof becomes a blooming garden, And there, reclining on its backs, All day the jocund public slacks As in the thymy glades of Arden. On Thames's bosom, crystal-clear, Glad urchins bob about like bladders ; The ily is cast from Wapping pier, And over the Pool's pellucid weir Salmon go leaping up their ladders. I dream how Covent's gritty bowers (By leave of MALLABY'S line) shall wear a Fat smile to gieet the sunnier hours For joy of battles fought with flowers, As it might be in Bordighera. New Bond Streets on the Surrey side Shall Haunt their gems and rare chinchillas To swell the local mummer's pride, And every bridge shall span the tide \Yilh Arcadies of ASTON villas. I fiee, in fact, old London rise From smokeless ashes, like a Phoenix, To moral planes where Beauty lies And Electricity supplies The motive power of pure Hygienics. But not in our time (hush, my heart!); A score of lustres will have fleeted Before the Ministry of Art, Though it should make an early start, Can hope to see the thing completed. Meanwhile this London is my place. Sad though her dirt, as I admit, is, I love the dear unconscious grace That shines beneath her sooty face Better than all your well-groomed cities. O. S. " A BELGIAN PIUSCF.SS AND HER CHEDITOHS. 1 Lc Soir ' (Brussels) announces that the creditors of Princess Louise •will receive the sum of 4,172 millions of francs, and consequently the legal proceedings before the Court of Appeal will not take place." 1'all Mall Gazette. Such a paltry sum to make a fuss about ! But, as usual, •we hide our real feelings behind this flippant mask. Bead- ing between the lines we confess to strange apprehen- sions. Why has the Princess so gravely exceeded her dress allowance ? Has she, on behalf of her beloved country, been collecting war-ships ? Has she 50 or 60 Dreadnoughts up her sleeve to upset the balance of naval power on " the day " ? We make the German Chancellor a present of these disturbing reflections. HIS SON'S FATHER. IN at least one of our daily newspapers the attention of the public was recently drawn to a brilliant young orator, ANTHONY ABQUITH by mime, who began a series of lectures at Antibes before influential audiences. The first two of the series dealt with aviation and music respectively. We understand that the titles of the remainder of the series will include "Physical Culture," "The Limitations of Piadium," " The Place of Theosophy in Metaphysics," and " The Proper Education of the Child." We learn from a correspondent that this gifted gentleman (who, by the way, is still quite young, being well on the bright side of his teens) is a member of a highly-respected London family resident within a stone's throw of Whitehall. After a career full of promise at Oxford, Master ANTHONY ASQUITH'S father was called to the Bar ; and although ho no longer follows the profession of barrister (in winch, by the way, he rose to the distinction of King's Counsel), he is not forgotten by many of his old colleagues in Lincoln's Inn. It was at one time common knowledge that he would certainly have been made a judge had he only remained active in his profession. He has devoted the last few years, however, to political work, which has always had a par- ticular attraction for him. As a man of sound judgment and ready acumen, Mr. ANTHONY ASQUITH'S father is much honoured in the councils of bis own party ; lie is also a very effective speaker, and is sure of a largo and appreciative audience whenever he addresses a meeting, whether it be in London or elsewhere. We venture to predict that the world will hear further of the man whom the remarkable performance of his youthful son has established within the public eye. THE NEW "AGONY COLUMN." [-1 forecast of " Servants Wanted " advertisements, bi/ Mr. Punch's own Ste.no-Volnpnl;cr. With acknowledgments to " The Daily Mail."] CK-GEN, 9-90, £145, rsng £50 yrly, fain 2 (poss mre), no bsmt, stps, wndws, boots, wshg. K.S.V.P. Mrs. Bolt, Laurel Villa, Lee Green, S.E. CK, any age, any wage, 3 fam (vvrttn gnteo furthr arrvls immed disposed of) no stairs, spats, fncy socks, knves, frks, spoons. Exclnt matrimual prosps. The Vicarage, Great Outerly. CK, inarrd or sing, if inarrd hush can shro 1st flr suite' beaut turn, pri btli rm, sth asp, telephne, mo 'bus psses dr, ex cellar kept. Mrs. Bland, " Nil Desperandum," Mus- well Hill, N. GEN, bright, yng (under 75), £180, pens aftr 6 ninths servce, free costumes, taxis, theatr tics, rail fres, week-ends sunny sth cst (best hotls). Interv Carlt Grill Km, 8 morrow, eve dress op, will intro hush to engd applcnt, aftwds to Hippo. Mrs. St. John Vernour, Stewkley Mans., W. GEN, age op, no fam (loathe fams), no early dins, late dins, or hot dins. Wages half emplyrs inc (Chart Accts cert), evry wk-end oft', lib breakges (best china only), charm neighbd, young soc, exc golf clb, amatr theatrcls (leadg prts guarntd), Cindrlla dnce Twn Hll twee ninthly, aim hoi Deauville, all exes pd, pre-historic CKNG only, no veg, caps, aprons, restrictns. Lchkey, long gard, summr hse. Mrs. Ilex Jones, The Awnings, Bourne End (Pic pal 3 min). IMBECILE, as GEN, £18, 9 fam (last census), honest, wllng, oblg, early risr, pin ck, fond hse wk, chldrn, one eve inthly. Mrs. Spero, The Warren, Stickham-in-Clay, Bucks. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUAUT 28, 1914. THE TRUST CLINCH. PRESIDENT WILSON. "BEEAK AWAY Til BEE, GENTLEMEN!" fin liis Message to Congress upon legislation regarding Trusts, President WILSON advocated " tho effectual prohibition of inter- locking" amongst great industrial and financial corporations.] JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 65 SCALE OF IMPORTANCE IN THE PRODUCTION OF A MODERN REVUE. 111 COSTUMIER. PRINCIPAL ACTRESS. COMEDIAN. PRODUCER. SCENE PAINTER. COMPOSER. AUTHORS. MUSIC AND MILLINERY. THE luminous suggestion that ladies attending the forthcoming performances of Parsifal should \veai1 mantillas instead of aigrettes is almost the first consult their individual tastes in dress. Certain restrictions would of course he needed. Thus, uniforms were all very well for dance and restaurant bands, but he would not like to see the Queen's Hall Symphony Orchestra i-.nmrvpf.inrr \\iUi Blnp, Rfissii.rahians or impression if the audience were all clad in Persian garb. The samo need for local colour would be felt in the case of his new Siberian symphony, though lie admitted that it would be a little trying if the work was performed in the dot? davs. The exnenso was music and dress into a true and fitting relation. We are therefore not in the least surprised to learn that a move- ment is on foot to promote sumptuary legislation to secure this end as part and parcel of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S far- reaching programme of social reform. Pending the realisation of these schemes the Editor of Music for the Million has had the happy thought of interviewing a number of disting- uished musicians, whose views may be summarised herewith. Sir HENHY WOOD said that con- ductors and orchestral players were Pink Alsatians. perhaps a consideration, but people extraordinarily sensitive to sartorial 1 scopio colours affected by modern influences. Unfortunately the force of women of fashion distracted serious tradition was so strong that he found it impossible to indulge his tastes. It was de rigiicur to conduct in either a frock or an evening coat, but if he had his own way lie would vary his garb for every composer. For example, he would like to wear a harlequin's dress for STRAUSS, a full-bottomed wig and ruffles for BACH, HAYDN and GLUCK, a red tie and a cap of Liberty Herr KUBELIK declared that a violin j could always afford to purchase a virtuoso could never play his best by j costume for a fancy ball, and why not daylight. Artificial light, full evening dress and diamonds were indispensable in an audience. You would not play bravura, music to people in morning costume; it was like drinking cham- pagne out of a teacup. Mr. ALGERNON ASHTON said that as the highest form of musical composi- tion was a Funeral March he was in favour of making black obligatory for all persons who attended high-class symphonic concerts. The kaleido- artists and sometimes made them play wrong notes. An exception might perhaps be allowed in favour of dark purple, because of its association with mourning, but the glaring colour schemes now in vogue were to be deprecated as prejudicial to solemnity. It pained him to see music reduced to the menial position of the handmaid of levity. for SCHONBKRG, and the uniform of a Professor BANTOCK said that he was Cossack of the Ukraine for TCHAI- entirely in favour of establishing an KOVSKY. Instead of which the utmost equation between music and the costume liberty that he was allowed was a but- of those who performed or listened to terfly tie. He thought that members of it. For instance, lie felt that his Omar the orchestra ought to bo permitted to ' Khayyam would make a far deeper for a Symphony concert V Madame CLARA BUTT said that she found the timbre of her voice was affected by the costumes of the audience. She strongly condemned the practice followed by some ladies of fashion of bringing their Pekinese dogs with them to concerts. It showed disrespect to the performers and in- volved cruelty to animals, since the Pekinese only appreciated the Chinese five-note scale and detested European harmonies. Cabinet and Admiralty. ANOTHER DISCLAIMER. A correspondent writes : — " There is no reason to believe that the Cabinet will remit to the Board of Admiralty the report of the Land Committee appointed by Mr. LLOYD GEORGE with a view to securing the views of the Sea Lords, as possessing a wide knowledge of naval affairs, on this aspect of tho Government's policy." " The men demand, loughly, an increase of Id. 3, ton." — Daily Chnnicle. Perhaps if they askel politely they might get it. 66 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 28. 1914. SILVER LININGS. " \\K want, some more coal," said Celia suddenly at breakfast. " Sorry," I said, engrossed in my paper, and I passed her the marmalade. •• More coal," she repeated. I pushed across the toast. Celia sighed and held up her hand. "Please may I speak to you a moment?" she said, trying to snap her fingers. "Good; I've caught his eye. We want — ' "I'm awfully sorry. What is it?" " We want some more coal. Never mind this once whether INMAN beat JIoHns or not. Just help me.'' "Celia, you've been reading the paper," I said in surprise. " 1 thought you only read the feuill — the serial story. How did you know INMAN was playing Bonus? " " Well, POULTON or CARPEXTIEU or whoever it is. Look here, we 're out of coal. What shall I do?" " That 's easy. Order some more. What do you do when you 're out of nutmegs? " "It depends if the nutmeg-porters are striking." " Striking ! Good heavens, I never thought about that." I glanced hastily down the headlines of my paper. " Celia, this is serious. I shall have to think about this seriously. Will you order a fire in the library? I shall retire to the library and think this over." "You can -retire to the library, but you can't have a fire there. There 's only just enough for the kitchen for two da-ys." " Then come and chaperon me in the kitchen. Don't leave mo alone with Jane. You and I and Jane will assemble round the oven and discuss the matter. B-r-r-r. It 's cold." "Not the kitchen. I'll assemble with you round the electric light some- where. Come on." We went into the library and rallied round a wax vesta. It was a terribly cold morning. "I can't think like this," I said, after fifteen seconds' reflection. "I'm going to the oflice. There 's a fire there, anyway." " You wouldn't like a nice secretary," said Celia timidly, "or an oflice-girl, or somebody to lick the stamps?" " I should never do any work if you came," I said, looking at her thought- fully. "Do come." "No, I shall be all right. I've got shopping to do this morning, and 1 'm going out to lunch, and I can pay some calls afterwards." "Eight. And you might find out what other people are doing, the people you call on. And — er — if you should be left alone in the drawing-room a mo- ment . . . and the coal-box is at all adjacent . . . You'll have your muff with you, you see, and— Well, I leave that to you. Do what you can." I had a good day at the office and have never been so loth to leave. I always felt I should get to like my work some time. I arrived home again about six. Celia was a trillo later, and 1 met her on the mat as she came in. " Any luck ? " I asked eagerly, feeling in her muff. " Dash it, Celia, there are nothing but hands here. Do you mean to say you didn't pick up anything at all ? " " Only information," she said, lead- ing the way into the drawing-room. " Hallo, what 's this ? A fire ! " " A small involuntary contribution from the office. I brought it home under my hat. Well, what 's the news ? " "That if we want any coal wo shall have to fetch it ourselves. And we can get it in small amounts from green- grocers. Why greengrocers, I don't know." "I suppose they have to have fires to force the cabbages. But what about the striking coal-porters? If you do their job, won't they picket you or pick- axe you or something? " " Oh, of course, I should hate to go alone. But I shall be all right if you come with me." Celia's faith in me is very touching. I am not quite so confident about my- self. No doubt I could protect her easily against five or six great brawny hulking porters . . . armed with coal- haminers . . . but I am seriously doubtful whether a dozen or so, aided with a little luck, mightn't get the better of me. " Don't let us be rash," I said thoughtfully. " Don't let us infuriate them." " You aren't afraid of a striker?" asked Celia in amazement. " Of an ordinary striker, no. In a strike of bank.- clerks, or — or chess- players, or professional skeletons, I should he a lion among the blacklegs; but there is something about the very word coal-porter wh ich— You kno w, I really think this is a case where the British Army might help us. We have been very good to it." The British Army, I should explain, has been walking out with Jane lately. When we go away for week- ends wo let the British Army drop in to supper. Luckily it neither smokes nor drinks nor takes any great interest in books. It is a great relief, on your week-ends in the country, \,oJ;now that the British Army is dropping in to supper, when otherwise you might only have suspected it. I may say that we are rather hoping to get a position in the Army Eecruiting film on the strength of this hospitality. "Let the British Army go," I " We 've been very kind to him." " I fancy Jane has left the service. I don't? know why." "Probably they quarrelled because she gave him caviare two nights running," I said. " Well, I suppose I shall have to go. But it will be no place for women. To-morrow after- noon I will sally forth alone to do it. But," I added, " I shall probably return with two coal-poi ters clinging round my neck. Order tea for three." Next evening, after a. warm and busy day at the office, I put on my top-hat and tail coat and went out. If there was any accident I was determined to be described in the papers as " the body of a well-dressed man." To go down to history as " the body of a shabbily- dressed individual " would be loo depressing. Beautifully clothed, I jumped into a taxi and drove to Celia's greengrocer. Celia herself was keeping warm by paying still more calls. " I want," I said nervously, " a hun- dredweight of coal and a cauliflower." This was my own idea. I intended to place the cauliflower on the top of a sack, and so to deceive any too- inquisitive coal-porter. " No, no," I should say, " not coal ; nice cauliflowers for Sunday's dinner." " Can't deliver the coal," said the greengrocer. " I 'm going to take it with me," I explained. He went round to a yard at the back. I motioned my taxi along and followed him at the head of three small boys who had never seen a top-hat and a cauliflower so close together. WTe got the sack into position. " Come, come," I said to the driver, " haven't you ever seen a dressing-case before? Give us a hand with it or I shall miss my train and be late for dinner." He grinned and gave a hand. I paid the greengrocer, pressed the cauliflower into the hand of the smallest boy, and drove off. . . . It was absurdly easy. There was no gore at all. * :;: *: * * " There ! " I said to Celia when she came back. " And when that 's done I '11 get you some more." " Hooray ! And yet," she went on, " I 'm almost sorry. You see, I was working off my calls so nicely, and you 'd been having some quite busy days at the oflice, hadn't you? " A. A. M. JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 67 TllIS IS NOT A CLOAK-BOOM BUT THE LOUNGE OP A FASHIONABLE LONDON HOTEL. OLYMPIC TALENT. (A topical fantasy swjtjeslcd l>y the decay of our athletic prowess and the apparent apathy of the nation as to the fate that may befall it in the international contest of 1916.) MY England, so the chance has fled ! Olympian years to come shall knot not The athlete's guerdon for thy hoad But crown the wigs of Serbs and what not. There were who sought thy shame to shield From men that mocked the sea-kings' fibres By opening funds, but these appealed To singularly few subscribers. " A trifling hundred thou.," they wrote, "To ease the joints and stiffening sockets." The public acted like a goat, They kept the cash inside their pockets. So mused I sadly ; and since new Sensations oft from grief can jerk us I went to see the " Wonder Zoo," Herr HAOENBKCK'S surprising circus. There where the Model Homes were built That left some while ago the bard bored I watched the Nubian lions wilt In imitation lairs of cardboard. And sudden, whilst I saw them roll — Those monster cats — beyond their ha-ha, A solace came into my soul, I murtrrnred sotto voce-, " Aha ! " If but yon sunken fence were filled, So that these grim-faced brutes might cross it, Are there no athletes here urulrilled, Veiled by their adipose deposit ? " In slothful ease Britannia shirks ; But haply, near these sundering ditches, Some mute inglorious miler lurks Under a morning coat and breeches. " Oh, if the gulf were bridged ! What late. What all undreamed-of hurdle-winners Might blossom from a natural hate Of forming parts of feline dinners ? " Yes, even I, the motley fool, Starting from scratch and willy nilly Might prove it needs no Yankee school To knock the level hundred silly. " The gymnast's art should all be mine As, clambering from the scene of pillage, I roosted safe in yon red pine (Left over from the Russian village). " Ay, and if all old tales are wrong And lions climb — from that asylum I should come out extremely strong, Using my brolly for a pilum." EVOE. C8 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. .l.\M AKY .11)1-1. THE INDOMITABLES. THKUI: is trouble ahead for some of our Peers. 1 have just come across throe fore- warn ings of it. Tho first was in the train. A fat man was telling his grievance to a thin man. " I '11 slick at nothing," lie said. " I mean to see this through. The idea! \Vliy, \ve've only heen in the liouso seven weeks. Remember that. Kemember also that gas is half-a-erown a thousand. And understand that we 're most economical ; we 're always turning the lights down, my wife and I. Now then; in spite of this the rascals want me to pay on sixty 1 housand feet ! It 's preposterous. \Ve couldn't have got through so much it we had never let a burner or a stove go out day or night. And we're economical !. What do you say to that ? " The thin man said that he had never heard anything so infamous in his life. "But I'm going to light it, I can toll >ou," said (ho fat man. " Oh \cs. If necessary I'll take it to the. House of Lords." "Quite right," said the thin mail, picking up his papur. The second case was late at night, in the corner of a, restaurant. Two men were talking near me and I heard most of it. "It was like this," said one, who might have been a journalist from the look of him, to the other, whom I could not exactly place, but fancied he was perhaps remotely connected with music. lie yawned rather more than I should have liked bad I been the narrator; " It was like this. There wero eight of us to dinner and live of us had old brandy at two bob a go. Only live. The first lot was poured out by the waiter, so there can be no trouble over that ; that 's ten bob. Then three or four of us had another go. Do you see ? " The musician came back to earth and said that he saw/. " Very well. Even supposing that wo did overpour a little, wo didn't have more than ten portions altogether. That I can swear to. Yet what do you think the bill said? ' Liqueurs, two pounds.' Think of it ! " The musician woke up and made the motions of a man thinking of it and finding it the limit. " Of course I refused to pay," the journalist went on. " Of course," said the musician. " And now wo 're fighting it. But I don't care if it breaks mo, I "11 resist it. If necessary i '11 take it to the House of Lords." The third case happened only this orning. I met in the street an artist friend. •• Hullo," I said, " f don't often see you out and about at this hour when there's so little decent daylight." "No," ho said, "it's an awful bore, but I '\-(i got lo see a lawyer. The fact is I 'in in for litigation." " You ? " I cried. " Yes, me. It 's dead against my nature, I know, but this is serious. In the public interest a fellow must do something unpleasant now and then." " What is it ? " I asked, drawing him towards a comfortable resort where cordials against this appalling weather wero obtainable. "The fact is," he said, "my wife's been poisoned." " Poisoned ! " " I don't mean in the BOUCJIA way. Not any CATHKBINK HI: MIODICI tricks. No, merely in a London restaurant. Out shopping the other day £he had lunch in one of those West End places and she's been ill ever since. A dish of curry. Well, I'm going to have those people's blood, and incidentally some money too, I hope." -" I wish you joy of the experience," I said. " I know all about that," ho replied dismally.;, " but it's got to be done. And I'm going through with it." " You '11 stick at nothing ? " I said. "Nothing," he replieil. "If neces- sary- r-" - — , " J know," I said. "What?" "If necessary you'll take it to the House of Lords." •' Yes ; but how did you know ? " " I guessed it," I replied ; " but you '11 be horribly congested there." And so, I repeat, there is a busy time al icad for some of our Peers. UNCLE STEVE'S FAIRY. You 've 'card 'em tell o' fairy folk An' all the luck they bring? Now don't you 'eed the lies that 's spoke ; The// ilon' I ilo no such thing ; You sec my thumb, Sir, 'ow it 's tore ? You '11 say, niay'ap, a badger hoar 'As done it? By your leave, An' that 's a bloomin' fairy. Sir, that bit old U nc!e Steve ! 'Twas n.e an' Kbene/:cr Mogg An' little Essex Jim, The chap that 's got the lurcher dog That 's cleverer than 'im, A-i met to 'avo a bit o' sport Among the covers at the Court, Upon the strict q.t. — That's Ebene/er, then, an' Jim, an' Toby-dog an' me. At 'alf-past ten or so that night We lel't " The Chequers' " bar; "l'\\a. , dark, an' down the velvet 'eight Of 'eaven fell a star ; The moon was sett in' through the trees As big an' white as 'alf a che. Tho very best she could, Since we 'ad got the long-net out to ! r\ the 'Ome Park wood. We laid it 'long the cover side, A furlong " mesh-an'-pin "; Wo sent tho lurcher rangin' wide To drive the rabbits in ; A soft, sweet night in late July We lay among the bracken Jigh That 'eld the mid-day sun, While mute an' wise ole Toby ranged enjoyin' of the fun. But soon we 'ears the rabbits squeak, A-kiekin" in the cords, An' gets among 'em, so to speak, Like gentlemen an" lords ; We slips along their necks to wring, When Mogg 'e 'oilers out, "By .ling! Look, lads, 'ere 's summut fresh — A bloomin' fairy-airy 's got 'isself into the mesh ! " Wo Hashed the lanthorn on to 'im ; I tell you, Sir, 'o lay A nasty, ugly little limb, An' yallerer than clay ; An' wicious — Ebene/er Mogg Wanted to back 'im 'gainst the dog; But Jim 'e says, " No go ; This 'ere '11 fetch a niorfc o' brass for Mr. BAHNUM'S show i " I grabs the little jumpin'-jack ; Says I, " It 's gettin' late ; We '11 shove the beggar in the sack An' see, at any rate." 'Twas then ole Buckshot an' his crow Come dashin' at us 'cross the dew ; The varmint bit like mad ; I shook 'im off — 'e disappeared ; but 1 was fairly 'ad ! They brought me up at Thornleigh 'Eath ; I got a fortnight's stretch ; An' still I feels 'is wicked teeth, That spiteful little wretch ; An' still my thumb 's all any'ow In weather (as it is just now) That 's frosty, 'ard an' chill ; Tis few things seems to do it good. . . . Wliv, thank 'ee, Sir, I will ! Why cmr Chemists are so bright and healthy. "FOT.I.E. — How charming to have ;i mani- cure set presented to you ! When filling it with the necessary manicure preparations, includo the — Nail Polish, which all chemists l.eep; it keeps them so bright and healthy." Lady's Pictctial. JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON BILLIARDS A LA GOLF. " I WANT a billiard cue," I said ; " one I can travel with comfortably — that folds up, or telescopes, or does some- tiling of that kind, you know." " Yes, Sir," said the salesman. " This style of cue with a secret joint would probably suit you. It unscrews in the middle, is handy to carry, and abso- lutely reliable when fitted together." " And now about a case? " " Yes, Sir. Do you want a case for the secret-jointed cue only, or a case for your whole kit? " ••My whole kit?" " Your complete set of cues, Sir." " Never heard of such a thing." " I assure you, Sir, that all the best people go in for sets — just as with golf, Sir. This is a complete set; the whole, including the case, for ten guineas." And lie showed mo a long green-lined mahogany box containing foreign-looking cues (in addition to a secret-jointed one) packed as carefully as a set of drawing instruments. " Would you mind explaining this mystery box to me? " I asked. " Certainly, Sir," said the obliging young man. "This set of cues has been designed for the billiard player who spends his summer on the golf links and comes back in the autumn to billiards with the golf - habit highly developed. That is, the habit acquired on the links of using different clubs for the various shots. Now this cue — " Oh, that, of course, is an ordinary cue," I interrupted. " Never mind that ono; introduce me to the others." " Pardon me, Sir, it only looks like an ordinary cue. A steel tube has been inserted down its interior — " Do I understand that billiard cues have also taken to hunger-striking? " The shopman forced a polite but che3rless smile and continued, "This makes the cue perfectly rigid and in- flexible " "It has the same effect on the hunger-strikers, 1 am to'.d." '*— and eminently suitable for its special purpose. We call it the ' Driver ' cue — for driving off from baulk and for follow-through s, forcing strokes and all-round cannons." "Ah, and what is the hammer- headed instrument for? It looks more like a club than a cue." "Yes, Sir. There is nothing in the rules to prevent the use of a club. If I may point it out to you, Sir, there is hero a special appeal to the ladies, who arc now coming into the game ir\ ever increasing numbers. Up to the present time most lady players have failed completely to bring off a success- ful masse shot; but with the ' Hammer' Harassed Shopman. "An, MBS. JUDKINS, I AM HAVING AN AWFUL IIME OUST NOW. Y BIGHT HAND IS AWAY WITH A SWOLLEN FOOT." cue used as a club — over the shoulder (so) " "I see! You play it with a down- ward smashing blow, eh ? An appeal to the militant billiarde'.tc? '' " Precisely, Sir." "And what is this for?" I pulled out of the case a cue with the point flattened on one side, as if some one I had begun to sharpen it like a pencil and left oft' after the first big slash. "That is called the 'Jumper,'" ex- plained the young man, " and may be roughly likened to the niblick in golf. Playing it with the flat side of the point lying on the table (so) you can lift or jump a ball over any obstacle, such as a cut in the cloth, or ash acci- dentally dropped from your opponent's cijjar. In Snooker it is a sine ijiui 'lion. "Here, again, is what we call the 'Potter'; it is telescopic. One hand only is required when using the ' Potter.' You take aim as with a pistol, the inner tube or cuo being projected against the ball by means of concealed springs which are worked by this trif,'«or in the butt. The sights are adjustable for long or short shots." " And this fellow with the open no/y.le? " " That is our ' Patent Vacuum ' cue, Sir, for screw-back shots. By means of this miniature bellows in the butt 70 PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON CIIAIUVAIU. [.TANUAKY 28, 1914. THE BARGAIN. ' LCOK HEKK, CI.D CHAP, I 'LI. DANCE U1VICF, WITH YOUK UGLY LI1TLE SISTER IF YOU ' I.I. TAKE MY MATER DOWN TO ORUD." a jet of air is pumped upon the ball, through the open nozzle or tip, at whatever velocity is desired. When the striking ball has made contact with the ohject ball, suction is im- mediately produced by releasing this fan, which you may see just inside the n j/x.le." " By .Toye ! " I said, " I must have one of those. No, I won't take the whole set ; I can't afford a caddie to go round a billiard room with me." " Thank you, Sir," returned the shop- man. " Perhaps you might consider our latest marking-board for your own room — our Cinema-Board. For the slate in the centre we have substituted revolving illuminated films showing the leading players at work. Informa- tion and instruction hand-in-band with pleasure. When you go to the board to register the score you often get a hint from the moving picture. . . . No, Sir? Have you seen our musical pocktts ? Quite the latest New Year billiard novelty. When the ball drops into the net the weight presses on this stop, which releases a musical phrase from a musical-box under the table. We have some delightful rag-time effects tor Pool. . . . Not to-day, Sir? Thank you, Sir. The 'Vacuum Patent' and the secret-jointed cue shall be de- livered this afternoon. Good day, Sir." THE PIDGIN TROT. THE Paris Academy of Dancing Masters, according to a contemporary, announce a real successor to the Tango in the "Ta-tao." This dance is at any rate of respectable antiqfiity, as it has been popular in China since the year 2450 B.C. We anticipate an influx of sht-oyed .professors from the Middle Kingdom, and are therefore brushing up our pidgin English in order that Mr. Punch's readers may be able to deal with the situation in the ball- rooms and at Ta-tao teas. Thus: — Student. Chin - chin, Mr. Dance- pidgin-nian! Plofessor'. Chin-chin, sah ! Student. You jussee now come this- side ? Plofessor. My hab jussee come Lun- tun. Student.. You talkee Yin-ke-li ? Plojcswr. Can do. My sabby Eng- lishee allo san;o you. My talkee tlue pidgin, no talkeo lie pidgin. Student. That b'long first cbop! My wantchee catchce you teachee my, allo same same you dancee ta-tao. Plojessor. My teacbee numbah one plopah ! Student. So-fashion,eh? Howmuchee plice ? Plofessor. My no makee squeeze- S'pose two pidgin. My teacbee velly well, you talkee plice . . . Student. S'pose you catchee dollah one-piecee time? Can do? Plofessor. No can ! My wantchee save face ! My plice ten dollah, by'mby twenty dollah one-piecee time, allo same tango fashion. Student. That ting no b'long leason ! You b'long clcvah inside — understand? My sabby heap foleign debble. . . .You catchee plenty cumsbah ! Plofessor. My no lose face. . . . etc., etc., da capo. Nut. Fcrn-piecee here ? Chin-chin! Noisette. Allo same you. You sabby plenty girl-chilo here ? Nut. Mydon'ttiuk. Who-man b'long that boy-chilo you jussee talkee down- side ? Noisette. That b'long my pidgin ! Nut. Solly ! S'pose you wantcheo one-piecee dance? My b'long numbah one good boy ! Noisette. Can do first chop. Nut. You sabby dancee ta-tao ? Noisette. Can do two-piecee step so- fashion, one-piecee step so-fashion. . . . Nut. You b'long quite top-side. . . . I say, this lingo is about the edge. Put me down for the chow-chow — 1 mean supper, what ! Noisette. Sorry. Full up. Ta-tao! ZIG-ZAG. PUNCH, OB THE LONDON CHAEIVARL— JANUARY 28, 1914. CABINET COUNCIL. THE PRICE OF ADMIRALTY. MR. PUNCH. " YOU SEEM A LITTLE ANXIOUS, MADAM." BBITAKHIA. "YES; I'M WAITING TO KNOW WHETHER I'M TO LAY DOWN THE SHIPS .1 WANT—" MR. PUNCH. "OR LAY DOWN YOUR TRIDENT! ^^ JAHUABY UB, 191-1.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON GHARIVARL 73 .Mr. C as "The Duke of Marlborough TERRORS If \OUWtAfl 1 he Brothers r as " A Baby Grand. Mr. E as " A Country squire. Miss D as "A Coml'v Winter EVCIIIIIK ' THEATHK AND TYRE COMPANIES AM: NO LONGER GOING TO BE ALLOWED A MONOPOLY IN ADVERTISING AT FANCY BALLS. FROM I'lUYATE INFORMATION WU ARK ABLi: TO ANTICIPATE BOMK NOVKLT1K8 )''OB TIIH NEXT CARNIVAL. THE MOAN OF THE OLD HORSES. jSeo correspondence in The Spectator upon the sufferings of old - xpoi'U'd alive to Antwerp.] " MASTER, it was long ago you rode me ; Master, you wore careful of mo then ; Never was there anyone bestrode mo Equal to my master among men. When we Hew the hedge and ditch together — ' Good lass !' — how it made me prick my ear! Horn and hound, bright steel and polished leather, Long ago — if you but saw me here! " Pitiless wind and heaving surge, A fevered joot and n running sore, The siren's shriek /or a funeral dirge, And a hobble to death on the further shore. " Master, it was long ago you bought mo ; Master, you were proud to see me strain, Matching all my might as nature taught mo With the loaded burden of the wain. When I drew the harvest waggon single — • ' Good lad !' — how 1 turned my head to n--e ! Chain and hames and brasses all a-jingle, Long ago — do you remember me ? " Pitiless sunjc and driving hail, A ship a-roll in a dazing rour, A shoulder split on an iron fail, And a hobble to death on the further shore. " Master, you were saddened when wo parted, Begged of my new master to be kind ; Divers owners since and divers-hearted Jjeave me old and weary, lame and Hind. Voices in the tempest passing over — 1 Good lass !' — I can scarcely turn my head. Oats and deep-strewn stall and rack of clove]-, Long ago — and oh that I were dead ! " Piteous fate — too long to lice, Piteous end for ajriend of y ire ,• Was it too much of a boon to give A mereiful death on the nearer shore .' The New "White Hope." " ' I passed through several drawing-looms,' the says. ' I MIW ladies who wero so shy that they couldn't utter a word before mo, but who suddenly put a ribbon round my wrist to measure it' — you know, of course, by reputation Polairc's 15-inch wrist." — Sunday Chronicle. If the biceps is in proportion, Bandsman BLAKE should tremble. rUNCII, Oil rJHl<: LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 28, 1914. hi \vith in the last stand of the Samurai, where one might reasonably have hoped for some hand-to-hand play, nothing happened except one fatal shot from an unseen musket, and oven then the stricken body fell into the wings. If it hadn't been for the throttling of a spy and a touch or two of hara-kiri in the dark of the Bamboo Forest we should modification since it was produced a' have had practically no corpses at all. AT THE PLAY. "Tins DARLING OF THF, GODS." Tuonan the Gallery, on the ni when I attended, received it nipt interest rather than delirious en- thusiasm, The. Darlhifi of (he Gods p:omisos once more to justify its title. The play has undergone very little decade ago. It remains pure melo- drama incidentally set in a Japanese dress, and sprinkled with a few Japanese words. Here and there , it may of Sir HERBERT TREE was again the most likely exotic, and played his revolt- ing part with great gusto and a permis- sible amount of humour. Miss MARIE LOUR, whose delicate grace of feature and reproduce the Japanese attitude mind, as distinct from details of ! colouring lost something by her dusky custom- but the general spirit of it disguise, waa sufficiently Japanese in follows the traditional Anglo-Saxon the first scene, and did the right twittering with her feet ; but when the lines. Anybody who knows no more of Japan than may be .— gathered from the pages | of LAFCADIO HKAR.N will ; at least have learned ! that her youth is taught j to regard the love- interest of an ordinary English novel as an : indecency ; and so will • recognise the iniprob- j ability of the romantic, element in the play, i Still, all that is of little | consequence, for there must have been very j few who went to His : Majesty's to improve! their acquaintance with : comparative ethnology. The play has pleasant j things for the eye ; and | one of the best of them \\ as the face of Mr. I G K o it ci K R E I, p H as Kara, leader of the Samurai. But there were horrors, too; notably the senile j virgin light-heartedness of Yo-Sfin was amorousness of Xakkuri. and the off'en- changed to tragic despair she mislaid her Orientalism Shoji of Yo-San. One missed the fine performance of Miss HII.I>YAHI> as the outcast Geisha, with its suggestion of SADI YAKKO'S manner. The play was again admirably mounted, and the final scene of reunion in the clouds (reached after an interval where every minute, by Greenwich time, was a hundred years) contrived to escape the banality which commonly attends these transfigurations. I was glad, too, to observe that, in the code of etiquette which prevails in " the first Celestial Heaven," the European habit of oscu- lation is recognised ; though it seems that you have to go through a very hell of a time before you get to it. O. S. liitrylar (holding jewel-case). " SORRY TO TROUBLE YES, Mu:-r, BIT woui.i> YKII MIND HKr.riNG WK CHOOSE A PRESENT FOR THE MlSSUS? IT'S UKR lilUTHDAY TERMORKEU." sive little figure of //, his shadow — an interpolation in the bill of fare. A properly qualified dwarf 1 might have welcomed; but this precocious babe with the false moustache and the sham bald crown and the cynical giggle, who despair and reverted to her ought to 'have been in instead of serving his the nursery master with liquid stimulants and assisting in all sorts of wickedness, was a peculiarly nauseating object, and got on my nerves far more than the terrors of the torture- chamber. This painful business was done off', and indeed most of the bloody work was carried on out of sight — a curious economy in a play where there was so much talk of lethal tools. It is attractive English self. She brought a true pathos into the scene where she is left out of mind by her lover, to whom, at a pinch, all that is unfair to love was fair in war. I shall never, by t lie way, quite understand how Kara so far forgot his manners and obligations as to threaten her with death for a betrayal to which he owed his own life and with it the opportunity of killing her. With this reservation, Kara is a brave and noble figure, and Mr. EELPH made him look like it. I was disappointed that Mr. PHILIP MERIVALE should have had no better chance than was afforded by the part true that an arrow once flopped on to of a dumb servant for the 'display of the stage, but it only brought a note that delightful personality which so from a friend's hand. Swords, too, were now and then raised to strike, but were always arrested in mid-air. Even shone in his Cassio and his Doughty ; but lie was quietly admirabb in the most thrilling scene of all — outside the THE OLD MASTER. As these things go, I , reckon our sale, went ! pretty well. Just before j closing time we hold a j rubbish auction, with j Ginger in the chair, I Ginger would make an : absolute Napoleon : among auctioneers. ' He can bully, lie, des- ' pair, wheedle and take 1 you into his confidence i in one breath. He had sold four I table-centres and a pair ! of babies' boots for songs when Mrs. James Allen came up to his platform and ex- plained a parcel which she handed up in agi- tated whispers. Ginger accepted it with a whistle that without its moral effect on He released it from its was not the mass. wrappings reverently and, after a short scrutiny, spake out. " We have here, ladies and gentle- men, what I have no hesitation in regarding as the gem of the sale. It has by a highly unfortunate mischance lain bidden up to five minutes ago. It is nothing less, in fact, than an indisputably genuine Van Euiter — (sen- sation)— which Colonel Allen has very nobly consented to sacrifice for — for the splendid cause which has assembled us here to-day. (Applause.) This little canvas, ladies and gentlemen, apart from being an authenticated example of such an artist as Van Euiter, is a possession which any man might be proud of. It is called ' The Two Wind- mills ' and is, I hope, known to most of you by reputation. What shall we say for this, ladies and gentlemen ? " " Sevenpence," said a humourist. JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 75 Chauffeur of Large Car (who has been admonished for taking up too much of tli* narrow road}. KOOJI FOB YEB, PUT THAT THING ON YEB FOOT AND ItOLLEB-SKATK WITH IT OS THE PAVEMENT." "GARNl IF THEIIE AlSf'l ENOUGH " Mr. Archer is pleased to be amus- ing," said Ginger with more than his usual asperity. " Mr. Archer says seven- pence. Weil, I "11 say five guineas. Any advance on five guineas, ladies and gentlemen? doing, going — Now I shouldn't have thought there were sixteen shillings left in the bazaar grounds outside the stall boxes. But before the hammer showed any signs of descent a still small voice from the background said, " Six pounds." It was Mrs. Newman. She is worth anything between five and six figures, and hunts the antique indiscriminately. Ginger bowed comprehending!}1 and began talking again. " Ladies and gentlemen, six pounds offered for a signed Van Kuiter. Look, you can see the signature. Is this to go at six pounds ? There 's no reserve. Van Euiter's ' Two Windmills' going at six pounds. Any advance? Sir Eobert, a man of your taste — Sir Eobert Eirloy had boon looking on waveringly. He is a man of no taste at all except it be in the matter of old brandy ; but he hates Mrs. New- man and he wavered no longer. " Six guineas," he said. " Seven pounds," said Mrs. Newman. " Guineas," growled Sir Eobert. " Eight pounds," said Mrs. Newman. " Guineas," from Sir Eobert. "Ten pounds," said Mrs. Newman more shrilly. " Guineas." Sir Eobert was now well set and looked good for a century. Mrs. Newman hesitated. Ginger gave her the right sort of look. To speak was to break the spell. She set her teeth. " Fifteen pounds," she said through them. "Guineas," said Sir Eobert with his unfailing originality. Amid furious but suppressed excite- ment the struggle went on. It was only at seventy-five pounds that Sir Eobert began to feel silly and the prize fell to Mrs. Newman. "I congratulate you, madam," said Ginger warmly. " Even as it is you have got it at a remarkable price." She went away happy. Afterwards 1 approached Ginger. " Was that a genuine Van Euiter, really? " I asked. " Sure," said Ginger carelessly. " But — er — " I asked, " who is Van Euifcer ? What 's his school ? I don't know much about these Dutchmen." " Van Euiter," said Ginger severely, "is a painter in oils. His work has been known to fetch as much as seventy- five pounds. As for his school, there was a man of that name at Marlborough with me. And as the canvas of 'The Two Windmills ' is dated 1912 it might be him." A Child Among the Prophets. The Evening News called attention to the following as one of the " special features " of a recent issue : — "FORECASTS OF SPRING MILLINERY BY Miss BESSIE Ascoucn (AGE 7)." "To relieve a burn make an application of common soda moistendono islmnhi irriis- nnrhh-i oisoonr g mh honis nnnso snlioro ronoh ihnonhiso iioosocmfw shrd cmfw shr tscseshte As a rule, single women live longer than single men." — Mackay Daily Mercury. Perhaps they don't read The Mackay Daily Mercury. 7G PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, [JANUARY 28, 1914. MIRANDA'S WILL. I AM iiot legal adviser to Miranda's family ; nevertheless she came to see me on business the other day. I saw at once by her serious air that it was something of first-rate importance. "I want a will," she said; "one of those things that people leave when they die." " Some people leave them and some don't," I said. "I mean the things that show \\lio is to have your belongings." " Undoubtedly you mean wills." •• Do you sell them?" " Sometimes." •• I should like to see some." " What size? " 1 asked facetiously. " Sixes— long ones," said Miranda, looking at her hands. " I remember," I murmured. Miranda looked up with a start and assumed her severest expression. " I 'in afraid you're not treating the matter seriously. Perhaps 1 had better go to father's solicitor; he '$ older and quite serious. But then lie's rather hair! and uninteresting. I think lie takes snuff." 1 retorted in my most professional manner. " I beg your pardon ; I think you must have misunderstood me. I meant that all wills are not quite the same ; some are longer than others." " Not too long, then," she said. •• You might show me some medium size one-;. I should like to do the thing fairly well." " We don't exactly stock them ; they 're generally made to order." " I 'm sorry ; I wanted one at once. You know I was twenty-one the other day." (I knew it to my cost.) " Father says that everyone over twenty-one ought to make a will." " Your father's views on the subject are very sound. If you'll give me your instructions, 1 '11 make you one." I spread a sheet of paper in front of me. " But surely you can make a will ! without- my help? " "Not very easily. It's something like being measured for a gown. I must know what you have to leave and to whom you wish to leave it." " But I don't want anybody to know." " I 'm not anybody." " 1 know. 1 don't think, though, that I quite care to tell you." "Then I'm afraid there'll he some little difficulty about executing your wishes in the matter." "How much do wills cost?" she asked irrelevantly. " It depends on the length." " How much a yard? " " We mostly sell them by the folio, not by the yard." " How many feet are there in a folio?" "You '11 have to ask a law-stationer that." "How much would a medium-sized will cost ? llalf-a-crown ? " " More than that," I said. "Much more?" She turned over some coins in her purse. " A good deal more." "But I saw some in a chemist's for ninepence. Perhaps I 'd better buy one of those." "You might," I said doubtfully. " You said that as though you didn't think that chemists sell very good wills." "There's nothing really the matter with them. They consist of some printed words and spaces — mostly spaces. If you happen to execute them the right way the Judge afterwards decides what they mean." '• But how does he know ? " "He doesn't. That's what makes it so interesting. After a number of barristers have explained what they might mean, the Judge says what they ought to mean, and they mean that." " So there would have to he a law- suit ? " "Almost inevitably." " And you make good wills? " " My wills are all of the very best quality." " Then I suppose I must let you make me one. What sort of things do people leave?" "All sorts of things. Anything they 've got and quite often tilings they haven't got." "Animals? Dogs? Can I will away Bobs, for instance? " "Yes." " Can I leave anything to anyone I like?" " Yes, to anyone you like or don't like." I was thinking of Bobs. He is not a very amiable dog and no friend of mine. " I think I '11 leave Bobs to you." I had felt it coming. " But I might die before Bobs. Bobs being a specific legacy would then lapse and fall into residue," 1 hurriedly explained. " That doesn't sound nice." " It isn't nice. Bobs would never be happy there. You had better leave him to some one younger." After we had settled Bobs on a young cousin we got on quite quickly. We left her old dance programmes and several unimportant things of doubtful ownership to her greatest rival; hei piano (with three notes missing), on which she had learnt to play as a child, to her Aunt in Australia, said Aunt to pay carriage and legacy duty ; her violin to the people in the next flat ; hoi French novels to the church library; nor golf clubs and tennis racket to r old nurse; her Indian clubs to the Olympic Games Committee ; her early water-colour sketches to the Nation. We divided up all her goods. Every- body got something appropriate. It was a good will. And when 1 sug- gested that there should be no im- mediate charge, hut that the >•> st should ho paid out of the estate in duo teason, Miranda very cheerfully agived ; <ind even went so far as to express a generous hope that I should outlive he>-. THE MAN OF Till'] MOMENT. January 23, 1914. WHO is the happy tradesman ? Who is he ? I mean in this peculiarly horrible weather ? The chemist. There is no happier tradesman than he. He stands all day long, and a large part of the night, among his bottles and boxes and jars and jarlets and pots and potlets and tabloids and capsules, selling remedies for colds and coughs and sore throats and rheumatism and neuralgia. The colder it is the more he is on velvet, the chemist. In America he is called a " druggist," but " chemist " is better, even though it confuses a mere peddler of ammoni- ated quinine with Sir WILLIAM RAMSAY and Sir WILLIAM CBOOKES. The old-fashioned spelling was " chytnist," and there are still one or two shops in London where this spelling holds, but I think it's affectation. Meanwhile the chemist (or chymist) is coining money. Not even his lavish expenditure of clean white paper and red, red sealing wax, and the gas that burns always to melt that red, red sealing-wax, can make his profits look ridiculous. Not even the constant loss of small articles from the counter, such as mani- cure sticks, and digestive tablets, and jujubes, and face cream and smokers' cachous, which never ought to be spread about there at all, because they are so easily conveyed by the dishonest custo- mer into pocket or muff, can seriously upset the smiling side of the chemist's ledger. Every night, when at last, laden with gold, he climbs to his bed, he hopes piously that the morrow may be colder. And it usually is. lie will soon be a millionaire. It is only a warm wind that can blow the chemist no good. I wish 1 was a chemist, but it is now too late. Still, I wish I was a chemist. JANUARY 28, 1914.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 77 .\unt, "I CAN'T THINK or J.KTTIMI YOU TWO r;ir.Ls GJ ALONE, AND AS I SHALL NOT UK ABLE TO GO YOUR UNCLK WILL LOOK AFTEII YOU." Niece. "THAT'S vi:r.v KIND OK HIM, AUKTIK ; BUT T iiorE YOU DON'T EXPKCT us TO CLIXG TO HIS ArnoN &TIUNGS ALL THE niiB." THE BEER-FIGHT. (Suggested by Mr. CUKSTESTOX'S " The Flying Inn."} OF G. K. C. a tale I tell, of GILBERT CHESTERTON, And how lie met GAMURINL'S onco and how they carried on. Each roared a lusty challenge out, as only topers can, And sat him down and called for boor, and then the bout began. One had a fieiilel to his hand, and one a pewter pot; They drank potations pottle deep, in fact they drank a lot. And as they drank the barrels dry they rolled them on the floor, And sang a stave and drained a quart and called aloud for more. Their glowing souls o'ertopped the stars; they had their hearts' desire, The while the world spun round and round its busy track of fire. " I "ve lived for this,'' said G. K. C. and tossed his flaming head ; " Dcr Kerl ist stark, (Jus Uier istyut," was what GAMBRINUS said. The sun looked on, the moon looked on, the comets all stood still To see this stout and jolly pair who never had their fill. And still they drained their beer as if they 'd only just begun ; And no one dared to interfere to settle which had won. PRESSIMISM. (The Baid to the scliemcr of newspaper placards.) WHY, crystalliser of the world's diurnal Experience, why plunge my soul in gloom With tidings that are ghastly and infernal? Why dim my morning eye with tales of dcom, Of flood and tire, of pestilence and drouth — leaving me down, distinctly, in the mouth '? Why stun me with : " EXPLOSION IN A LARDER: COOK AND POLICEMAN BLOWN TO BITS"; "Tun Gim, THAT POISONED HALF A PARISH " ; " WEATHER HARDKK AND DEATH RATIO RISING"; " POACHER BRAINS AN EARL"; Why bla/.on blackly forth such blighting news, Nor give a glimpse of life's less dismal hues? Why not proclaim such gladness as the following: " TWINS BOHN IN TOOTING: TRIO DOING WELL''; " CHELSEA CHURCHWARDEN MUCH IMPROVED, AND SWALLOWING BEEF-TEA WITH EASE"; "A FAMOUS BARKING BELLE GETS OFF AT LAST " ; " A NAVVY'S LOVE OF GREKK " ; " YOUNG POET EARNS A GUINEA IN A WEEK"? " Vclour I fat, pretty blue, trimmed large elephant." — AM. A small seagull looks prettier and is less in the way at: matinees. •,78 PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [JANUARY 28, 1914. THE CONVERTED STATISTICIAN. A SUDDEN jolt as we thundered over some points caused mo to shoot, a piece of bread-and-butter on to the floor. I stooped to pick it up. " Stop a moment, please! " cried my companion. He jumped to bis feet and examined it. "Ah," said he, " but- tered side downward ! " " It 's always the same," I said, as I jerked the thing viciously out of the window. " It 's always buttered side downward." " No, there you fall into a common error," protested the other. " You may take it that fifty-seven per cent, fall buttered side upward, and only forty- three percent, buttered sidedowuward." "H'm," I said dubiously. " You must pardon me for my offi- ciousness," he went on, " especially as I have now no reason to be interested in such things. But habits are strong." I looked at him curiously. " Habits ? " I .said. " Yes, habits. For years I kept an accurate record of every slice of bread- and-butter I saw fall to the ground. I had better explain -myself. Nearly all my life, you must understand, I have maintained the view that the generally accepted theory of the " cussedness of things ' is all wrong. You know that to most people ' cussedness ' is the governing factor of life." "Rather! " I agreed. " Well, 1 disbelieved it, and I set to work to collect materials for a book which was to prove my case. For years I incessantly gathered statistics on the subject. Do I bore you? " " Not at all," I assured him. " The results were extraordinary. Take, for example, -catch ing trains. It is highly important that you should catch a train at short notice. In nine cases out of ten, you will say, your taxicab breaks down, or your tram is held up by a block in the traflic, or the current fails on the Underground." " Certainly it does." " On the contrary — I am speaking from memory, but I think my figures are accurate — the taxicab only breaks down in 1-5 per cent, of cases; with the tram the percentage rises to 1-8 ; with the Underground it falls to -2." I gasped. '• Or take the case of studs," lie went on. " You drop a stud, and it promptly and inevitably rolls away into some quite impossible hiding-place. So most of us believe. As a matter of fact it only does so approximately three times out of a hundred. Or bootlaces. If you are exceptionally late in the morning, your bootlace always snaps, you say. Not at all. It breaks in such circum- stances only four times out of a possible hundred. And with bicycles, to take another example. If ever you get a puncture, you fancy Hi at it always occurs on some occasion when you are sorely pressed for time. Again, not at all. Out of a hundred punctures only seventeen are sustained at such unfor- tunate moments." " You seem to have studied the subject pretty deeply," I remarked. " Oh, my dear Sir, I cannot myself recall a tithe of the material I collected. I carried out my inquiries in every conceivable direction. Suppose we take the obscure case of a — let me see — of a burglar. This was one of my most difficult researches. A -burglar will assure you, if you happen to bo in his confidence, that every time he enters a house, at a moment when absolute quiet is from his point of view essential, a door slams, or a pot of jam falls off a shelf, or a — a canary commences to sing loudly, or there occurs one of a hundred other unlucky noises ho will name. As you may imagine,' my in- vestigations into this problem were extraordinarily difficult. But the result was a triumph. In only -37-5 per cent. of cases is our burglar disturbed by an unexpected noise for which ho is not himself responsible. As for the specific examples given, the results here are even more striking. The pot of jam, for instance, only falls down in, I think, -0025 per cent, of cases, the canary bursts into song in only -00175 per cent., and so on." "It is astonishing," I admitted. "I must certainly obtain a copy of your book. Perhaps — " I never published it," he inter- rupted. " As a matter of fact I became converted." " Converted ? " I exclaimed in amaze- ment. " In the face of all your sta- tistics?" " Yes," he said meditatively. " I remember the occasion well. It hap- pened a few months ago, in early Spring. I had just completed the last chapter of my book, and I laid down my pen with a sigh. There before me lay all the statistics I had so laboriously collected, neatly tabulated and arranged with the proper explanatory notes and diagrams. It was finished after all these years! I can assure you it was an emotional moment. I don't know if you have ever brought a great work to a successful conclusion ; if so, you can understand my feelings." " I can imagine them," 1 said. " Well, I opened the French windows and stepped out into the garden to calm myself. It was a lovely March day, I remember, sunny and fresh, and I paced up and down the garden till my emotions subsided and I gradually recovered my self-control. Then I went indoors again." The train slowed down and ho began to gather his things together. " While I was gone," he said sadly, "the wind blew my manuscript and the best part of my notes into the fire." "How excessively unfortunate!" I murmured sympathetically. "And this converted you to the ' cussedness ' theory ? " " Yes," said he, as he stepped down to the platform. " It was the only book I ever wrote, and it was burned practically to a cinder. It works out you see, at exactly 100 per cent. . . ." THE EPIDEMIC. [A French contemporary, commenting upon the fact that the sudden appearance of cold weather in London is accompanied by an equally sudden disappearance of cats, demon- strates the cause of this coincidence.] WHAT boots it, Sir, to boggle at The truth ? So be it said Quite candidly, our Thomas-cat, McCorquodale, is dead. When winds from East and North con- spire To freeze the very breath, To you it means the mere desire To skate or sit too near the fire, To him 'twas sudden death. The cat that leaves the hearth and strays Abroad is over-bold ; McCorquodale wou4d-go his ways, Despite the fr.ost. To use a phrase Belittled in these careless days, He caught his death of cold. 'Twas not from native lack of fur That his demise was such. We did not see the end occur, But, though it be to cast a slur Upon humanity, infer (And you will catch our meaning, Sir) He had a coat too much. # # ::: ' * * And now, when Northern winds are bluff And veering to the East, And Beauty shuns their rude rebuff By hiding hands (and powder-puff) Inside her Russian sable muff, We tell ourselves, " Why, sure enough There goes, disguised as better stuff, McCorquodale deceased ! " Advice to Mothers. "January 20, at Kenyon-road, Wavortrec, to Mr. and Mrs. Oswald Unsivorth, a sou (bath well)." — Liverpool Eclio. " ARTISTS IN GENTLEMEN'S HKADWEAR." Advt, This always creates surprise. Some- how one still expects to see them in sombreros. JANUARY 2H, 1914.] PUNCH, Oil TIIK LONDON CIIARIVA1U. 79 THE HUNT BALL SEASON. First Xut. "!T'S Miss SMITH-BROWN. SHE'S ALL BIGHT — TIIEY 'RF. LOOKIN' AFTER iir.u.'' 'ut (i-uUiny tip). " GOOD GRACIOUS, MY DEAR CHAP, IT'S MY TANGO PARTNER 1" OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics.) LOOKING about among tho very host cliches (my own and others) — " supersubtlo analysis," " intimate psychology," "masterly handling," " incomparable artistry " — I found nothing that it didn't seem a sort of impertinence to apply to JOSEPH CONRAD'S Chance, which MKTHUEN has just had the good luck to publish. For the whole thing is much nearer wizardry than workmanship. I put tho book down with a gasp, so close had I been to realities as conjured up by one to whom realism is a servant and not a master. I had come to know, in that piecemeal way in which one actually gets to know one's fellows — waiting for later experience to coniirm or modify earlier impressions — the hapless, tragic Flora ; her father, de Barral, the pseudo-financier, fraudu- lent through unimaginative stupidity rather than criminal intent ; tho kindly-cruel pair of Fijncs ; that perfect, chivalrous knight of the sea, Captain Anthony, Flora's fiery-patient lover; his splendidly staunch second officer, Powell, and the analytic Marloie, also a sailor-man, who acts in the capacity of ultra-modern chorus to this tragedy of chance. The central idea is the old wonder that such vast issues can hang upon such trivial happenings, not merely in the outer realm of fact hut on the inner stage of character. And, this being his theme, perhaps Mr. CONRAD ought to have boen more scrupulously careful to uso no such strained coincidence as Powell's detection of de Barral' s attempt at revenge on his fancied enemy, Anthony. But this is indeed a slight defect in a work of brilliantly sustained imagination and superb craftsmanship. I wonder if the author's magic has so seduced my judgment as to make me feel that the somewhat shadowy characters of Captain Anthony and de Barral are deliberately suggested in fainter outline just because Murlow has in fact not known them personally, but only through the reports of others. I am prepared to believe the author of Typhoon subtle enough for that, or for anything else, and 1 have this only grudge against him, that he intrigued mo to the point of feverishly " skipping," out of sheer excitement to know if and how the deplorable misunderstanding between Flora and her quixotic Captain Anthony was to be cleared up, just like any ordinary decent library-subscriber, instead of the case-hardened critical fellow I naturally take myself to be. There are two things for which I have a special affection. One is an old friend who has often persuaded me that this world is rather a place for smiles than for gloom; and the other is a new book of stones which have life in them, which make their effect with a seemingly artless certainty and leave the pleased reader with the impression that they are, if anything, a shade or so too short. Both these things I have obtained in One Kind and Another (SECKER), by Mr. BARRY PAIN. " The Journal of Aura Lovel," with which Mr. PAIN leads off, is a delightful performance. It has freshness and charm and its sentiment seems to me to be exactly right — the sentiment of an eager and attractive young girl relating the feelings of her heart in the tenderest and prettiest style as far removed from preciosity as it is from a silly simplicity. All the stories have the essential merits of brightness and lightness, and most of them ha,ve that peculiar kind of ingenuity which is one of Mr. PAIN'S strong points. Suddenly they land you at a point which is 80 PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON CIIAU1VA1U. [JANL'ABY 28, 1914. nowhere near to that to which you thought you were | Liberal Cabinet Ministers— sometimes, more shame to thorn, travelling. The characters, even when they are engaged in of decent birth— wince consciously when reminded of the paradoxical and preposterous actions, are real men and taint of their association with plebeian colleagues. 'I !<•.<• women such as you could meet almost anywhere in a day's things, and many more of equal moment, 1 have learnt walk and they a' re set off with Mr. PAIN'S fancy so as to from Mr. STANLEY PORTAL HYATT, who in The II a>/ of become additionally lifelike. Many things have struck melthe Carding (\VKHNKU LAUIUK) describes how Sir Gerald, ol in the reading of this hook. One' is tliat Mr. TAIN'S new, that famous family, captured, with reckless profusion of novel is overdue. Another is that be has an uncanny | local blood, the independent island of Katu. Katu is in the familiarity with the ways of solicitors. " There is," he says, ; Malay Archipelago. Of vital importance as a key to the "no historical instance of a solicitor after the age of forty Eastern trade route it is eagerly sought after by Germany, having made any change whatever in the manner of his and to Germany's protection, after Si.r Gerald's exploit, a pusillanimous and almost more than Liberal English Govern- clothing." I will confess that it took a little time— say four pusillai ment basely ceded it. glishG< But what could you expect when Sir Joseph Darkin, smug-faced hypocrite (I am sorry, but almost chapters or so — for the peculiar charm of Simple ' Simon ; everybody in this book except the Cardines had a smug (LANE) to take hold upon me. It is not, I quite honestly '• face), was a member of our Cabinet? Were it not that think, that I object to being laughed at. Goodness knows! Mr. HYATT writes with a distinct sense of style and some wo ordinary folk get enough of that nowadays at the j power of narrative, I should boldly label The Way of the Cardines as one of the hands of these clever - young satiricals ; and i most of us have enough \ common honesty to ap- ; preciate our tormentors. j It is that, just for a time, 1 was troubled with a genuine, doubt whether Mr. A. NEIL LYONS was not becoming too sati- rical to be sincere, and allowing his gift for face- tiousness to betray him. The device of inventing a simple-minded young enthusiast, and making him ask perpetual ques- tions to the undoing of all those who accept blindly the beliefs which Mr. LYONS is out to ridi- cule— well, there was nothing specially en- livening in that. Briefly, young Simon Honeyball in his parents' home threatened to weary me. A WORLD'S WORKER. CHEF TIMING A MIXED GRILL. most amazingly humor- ous books I have read for a long time. In the circumstances myamuse- rnent was mingled with a certain amount of re- spectful sorrow. Sir Gcrnl d C 'a rd ine took morphia tablets freely ; on the essence of what strange herb Mr. STANLEY POUTAL HYATT had been browsing before he began to write The Way of the Cardines I simply dare not think. I should recommend readers to mitigate the crudity of his opinions, as I did, by softening the C of Sir Gerald's per- petually reiterated sur- name all through. The story sounds even more beautiful so. And 1 like to think that, when the But later, when he had migrated with his money and his hour of England's need comes, a Sir Pilchard of the extraordinary collection of jiroterjfs to Silverside, E., and historic house, and reared in some famous school, will not there set up his preposterous household, and become a be found wanting. Guardian (with what devastating municipal results you may guess!) I found myself the grateful admirer of both ! Our Gallant Bishops. Simon, and his creator. 'Mr. LYONS' sympathetic drawing " The Bishop cf P.arrow-in-Furnoss rendered timely i sissisl.aneeye.-4cr- of certain odd .London characters is a thing that I have ! <l».v i» an accident which occurred in the main street of Carlisle. Part . . of the harness of a heavily-laden carl broke, and the horse was bocom- Often admired ; he has no better portraits in his gallery ing r(,stivc, wljen tho Bishop, who was passing, prevented furthec than these of tho quaint objects of Simon's Silverside danger by bucklingup the girth while tho carterheldup the cart shafts, hospitality. Specially did I like Margaret, the wholly ' which \vould otherwise have fallen to tho ground."— Morning Post. ungrateful young woman whom he had befriended, and thej A lesser man would have pinched the carter's cap. trenchant speech with which she expressed her resulting ! opinion of his sagacity. She and others are also 'depicted in some very attractive drawings which illustrate (for once the right word) a book that, while perhaps not for every reader (parents please take note), will certainly delight those who can appreciate it. Mr- Balfour's Giflbrd Lectures. " As everything is illusory, wo had better make our illusions MS pleasant as possible. ' That,' he said, ' has been my view.' '' — 'limes. " As everything was necessarily illusory, wo had better make our ilhiMon> as pleasant as possible. (Laughter.) That had never been his view. (Applause.)" — Westminster Gasetle. Which of these reports is right must remain a matter of Lean, clean, brown Englishmen bear the stamp of the I philos ophic doul)t unless Mr_ BALFOUR can clear it up. Public Schools upon them and have made England what _ she is. Smug-faced missionaries grow fat on the spoils \ "At onoe, respectable Youth, for small milk round; a good rnitu-. •<•; they have collected from smug-faced ohurch-and-chapel- 1 dive in." — Adrl. in " Tiirerpcol Echo." goers at home. Labour Members are in the pay of Ger- What is the good of a Pure Milk Bill if this sort of tiling many and frequent infamous flats in tho West-End, i goes on ? FEHUUARY 4, 1914.] PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 81 CHARIVARIA. THE statement, made at the inquiry into the Dublin strike riots, that 245 policemen were injured during the dis- turbances has, we hear, done much to allay the prevailing discontent among the bclabouiing classes. " COALING THE STORES " u a head- line which caught our eye in a news- paper last week. To be followed, after the strike, we imagine, by " STORING THE COALS." £ * * A Eussian officer, last week, shot the leader of a gipsy choir in a St. Petersburg restaurant, not be- cause he sang out of tune but merely because ho expressed re- sentment at the officer's conduct towards his daughter. It is thought that the incident may lead to an Entente between Germany and Bussia. * # -!'- Our Navy standard of 16 Dreadnoughts to 10 of the next most powerful Navy is, says Mr. C. P. TBEVELYAN, rough and ready. Well, in this matter our standards may or may not be rough, but let 's hope they 're ready, anyhow. An organisation called " The Parents' League" has been formed in New York for the purpose of simplifying the lives of children. This has caused a considerable amount of uneasi- ness in juvenile circles, and it is said that a" Hands-off-our-jam " party has already been formed. In a letter of Mrs. CARLYLE'S just published, the wife of the Chelsea sage describes a cat as "a selfish, immoral, improper beast." This has given no little satisfaction in canine circles, where the deceased lady is being hailed as a human being with the insight of a dog. The Cambridge lieview is talking of dropping the publication of the Uni- versity sermon. It is possible, how- ever, that the mere threat may have the effect of making the sermons more entertaining. .,. .,, *'" A volume entitled "The Great Scourge and How to End it " has made its appearance. We had imagined this to be a treatise on the anarchist activities of a certain section of the Suffragists until we discovered the name of Miss CHIUSTABEL PANKHUKST as its authoress. Messrs. HUTCHINSON'S interesting History of the Nations, the first part of which has just appeared, is something more than a mere compilation of facts already known to us. We had thought that both photography and limited companies were comparatively recent inventions. An illustration, however, in this new work, entitled " Charles I. going to execution," bears the descrip- tion, " Photo by Henry J. Mullen, Ltd." Councillor SHERLOCK has been elected Lord Mayor of Dublin for the third time in succession, and Sir ARTHTR CONAN DOYLE will bo interested to between 3 and 4 P.M. ; and at their best at 10 A.M. But surely most boys are awake and out of bed at 10 A.M. ? "POPULAR MICROBES AUDIENCE OF 2,000 AT A BLACKPOOL LECIUBK." Daily News. One is so accustomed to think of tho little chaps in millions that this seems rather a poor attendance. THE HELPMATE. Newly-wedded Husband (fresh from the altar). TAKING THE LIBERTY, SlH, BUT DO YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW OF ANY PLACE WHERE MY WIPE COULD GET A LITTLE CHARRING TO DO?" hoar that there is some talk now of calling the local Mansion House " SHEKLOCK'S Home." '.- * Belief in the innocence of the dove dies hard. At Driflield, last week, a Mr. DOVE, who was charged with con- ducting a lottery, was acquitted in spite of his pleading guilty. •',• ;i,: A music-hall performer gave a turn in a King's Bench court the other day. There was a time when a judge would have objected to his court being turned into a theatre, but since the advent of comic judges the line of demarcation has become blurred. # : •;-. According to Dr. FRANK E. LAKEY, of tho English High School, Boston, HONORIFICS. A COWARDLY hoax was recently per- petrated in Paris, where a number of politicians consented to assist in raising a statue to Hegesippe Simon, the educator of the Democracy and author of the famous epigram, "The darkness vanishes when the sun rises," only to discover later that Hegesippe Simon had never existed. Needless to say, this has pro- duced a profound impression upon public men in this country, who are regarding invitations of a similar character with the gravest suspicion. For instance, Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, on receiving a request for his assistance in raising a monument to IBSEN, is reported to have replied cautiously that he would like to know more about this writer before giving an answer. Mr. CLEMENT SHORTER, on being asked to join the com- mittee of a BBOKTE memorial, replied suspiciously, " Why do you ask me of all people ? " Mr. J. L. GARVIN, on being approached on the subject of a bust of Mr. FILSON YOUNG, is reported to have consulted his assistant-editor as to whether the name might not be a pure invention; while Mr. G. K. CHESTERTON remarked, when asked to assist in raising a bas-relief to CHARLES DICKENS, that he didn't believe there was no sich a person. ' EXCUSE ME "Mr. M'Call, K.O., said Dr. Keats had charge of the boys ill the infirmary, and foe tho purpose of maintaining order he was sometimes compelled to resort to corporal astonishment." — Glasgow Daily Itecord. Billy Brown (surprised) : " Ow ! " In our last issue, quoting from a Johannesburg telegram, we referred to The Evening Chronicle as a "Labour organ." Its London Manager writes protesting against this description ; and we now offer our heartiest regrets for tho grave injustice that we seem to have U.S.A., boys' are at their naughtiest done to our South African contemporary. VOL. CXLVI. PUNCH, OB ( ILUIJVAKJ. 4, 1914. SMITHERS, B.C. I SAW it en a map, most large and fine (1. saw it with (lie naked eye — no dream), Showing how trains upon the Grand Trunk line, Grand hut Pacific, run along hy steam .Right lo Prince Jlupert on the sea (a port) And there are brought up short. Smithers! I saw it on a map, I say, A panoramic map in Cockspur Street. And sudden in my heart began to play Echoes of old romance, and all my feet Fluttered responsive' to the name's sheer beauty, So rhythmical and ihity. Smithers! The music of it filled my mouth. 1 saw Provence and that enchanted shore, And lotus-isles amid the dreamy South, And champions out of mediaeval lore J Booking at large for ladies in distress Round storied Lyonnesse. I was a trin-atorc (with guitar) ; Vene/.ia's airy' domes above mo shone; I heard Alhambra's fountains, faint i:nd far: I broke the Kaliph's line at Carcassonne; All kinds of lost 'chords latent in my withers Woke at the name of Smithers. Ali, if. .in Avalon's vale I may not rest \Vhen envious Time has worn me to a thread, Then let me go lo Smithers in the West, . .And on my gravestone let these words be read: Altr<j<'i>il 1»j its name to t/tis fair .si'.-w, 2le died a Sinithcrcne. O. S. THE COMMERCIAL SIDE. Now that the Headmaster of Bradfield has decided to start -a "Commercial side," to enable boys to prepare at school for a business career, it may be of interest to publish these fragments fronvlhc diary of another Headmaster who lias done pioneering wotrk in a similar direction: — January 20. -'-First day of term. This morning, in Hall, 1 made the momentous announcement that the School would shortly- have a new "side''— devoted to Business. School-boys an; usually so conservative that I had anti- cipated some signs of disapproval. Nothing of the sort; The speech was received with loud cheers, renewed when I prophesied that the Waterloo of the future woidd be won on the " Commercial side " of Fadfield. Truly a hopeful outlook. January 21. — As I expected, the Commercial side has been the chief topic of conversation among boys and masters. The latter are, 1 fear, reactionary — realising, no doubt, their incompetence to deal 'with business subjects'. The boys are enthusiastic. 1 am constantly approached in the corridors by lads who say it has always been their ambition to become a Tipton or a Whitoridge, or a (iilling and Warow, as the case may be. One little fellow quaintly confessed that ho had always longed to be a "Mother Spiegel." Great Britain's future in trade is assured if this spirit continues. January 22. — Even the Classical VI. seems interested in my new project, and questions proving a genuine keenness were asked me when I was taking HOMER this morning. One boy propounded the doubtful but stimulating notion that HOMER was really the name of some early Greek Co-operative Stores, and that the Iliad and Odyssey were parts of a gigantic scheme of advertisements. This is very illuminative and indicates that a real desire for efficiency exists in the most unlikely quarters. January 23. — An example of the .-.ort of prejudice one has to contend against occurred to-day. Henderson, one of the House masters, sent across a note asking what 1 should wish done in the following .case. It appears that a boy in his i House named Montague has by i-omo form of bin-gaining already 'deprived three new boys of their pocket-rnoney for the term. " Montague has exhibited such an exlraonln commercial aptitude in this matter," Jlendersc.n \\roti-. "that 1 propose lo. Hog him. Before doing BO however 1 thought .1 would ask for your assent, as \ou might prefer to make him a prefect." . t January 24. — Brown Major, the Captain of Football, has been deputed to ask me if 1 could arrange a Jumble Sale maii-h against (!ig.i;Ieswick. Have had lo explain to a boy, Lipscomhe, sent up for gambling, that the rule against this is inviolable, and that 1 could r.ol accept ;is i'.n excu.se for his breaking it the fact that ho intends, on leaving' school, to adopt ^the business of a bookmaker. Specialisation at school in all branches of business ;•; of course impossible. January 26.— M. Coustantin, the French master, has come to me with a complaint. Two days ago, .fur t.rxing to da/y.le him dining lessons with a suii-gla'-s, ho ga\e ahoy named Dawkins oOO linos. To-day, instead of the usual' Racine, Dawkins handed in lines o. pi< d from an advertisement in the daily press beginning: "Perhaps you are suddenly becoming stout; on it tt&tffj 1 o that you have been putting on weight for \enrs. . .'' As Constant)!] is disposed to adiposity, ho is convinced that Dawkins meant this for impertinence. Dawkins, however, has explained to me that he is profoundly interested in Patent Medicines, the sale of which he hopes to take up as soon as ho has qualified on the Commercial side. Pardoned Dawkins and accepted M. Constantin's resignation. January 27. I fear the school is taking the Commercial side too 'literally— with unforeseen results; To-day -there was a regrettable incident in the tuck-shop, outside ••'the door of which, unknown to Mrs. Harrison, a placard was nailed up announcing " Harrison's Winter Sale. All goods at sacrificial prices. Must; be cleared. No offer refuse;!." As a consequence the boys burst into the place in a crowd, ate and drank everything they could lay hands on, and paid for nothing. I have undertaken to rectify this matter. 'January 28.— Mutiny is rampant. The boys, inflated by their success in the tuck-shop, held "A Great .White Sale" in most of the dormitories last night. As a *on- rsequence, all towels, sheets, pillows, Ihinnels, ;eto.; are 'inextricably mixed up, and a very large' number can only ' be described as "remnants," Seven masters have resigned, including Herr Wolff, who was informed by a boy that he refused to handle the works of Schiller, because they were " made in Germany." Personally Hogged the J>0y. January 29. — Things are becoming intolerable. Three boys appeared -in the lower Modern class this morning in frock coats and false waxed moustaches which they must have written to London for. They were sent up to me and had the audacity to explain that they hoped to be shop- walkers some day and wanted to practise. Another boy asked if a Hair Drill 'could be substituted for the ordinary drill. Verily the reformer's task is a thankless one. January 90.— Actumest . . . This morning I announced to assembled boys that I should not proceed with the Commercial side. The speech was received in silence, except that one boy (whom, I regret to say, I was unable j to identify) called out, "And the next thing, Sir?" I fear ; there is no real commercial zeal as yet among boys. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— FEBRUARY 4, 1914. EXIT TANGO. THE SPIRIT OF DANCING (icakiiuj up). " WELL, THANK HEAVEN THAT'S OVER; ONE OF THE DULLEST NIGHTMARES I EVER MET." FKBHUAKY -1, 1!)1 I.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVAEI. 85 LIDBETTER. THE shopkeeper said ho had not got it in stock, hut he would get it for inc. " When ? " " By to-morrow morning." " Before lunch ? " "Yes." " For certain ? " " Yes." Very well then, I would have it. " Can I send it? " he asked. " No, someone will call." Very well. It should be ready for my man before lunch. How did he know I had a man ? I wondered. I had never been to the shop before. Do I look like a man who has a man ? I suppose I must. Yet I always rather hoped that I didn't. What bad I said exactly? I bad said, " someone will call." Either, then, "someone" means, in such shops, a man-servant; or the fact that I am a man-keeping animal is 'visible all over me. I went on to wonder if, should ho sea Lidbetter, be would know that be 'belonged to me. Did I not only betray .the fact that I kept a man, but also what kind of a man I kept ? Good old Lidbetter — what should ] |do without him ? I wondered. How get through the day at all ? How, to ibegin with, get up? The morning tea, the warmed copy 'of The Times and The. Nail (only Lidbetter would ever have thought of warming them), the intimation that the bath (also of the right temperature) was ready — how should I be thus looked after without Lidbetter? And then the careful stropping of my razors. Without Lidbetter how could I get that done for me ? Without him I am sure I should never change my neck-tie till it was worn out, or get new shirts until mus- •tard and cress bad begun to sprout on the cuffs of the old ones, or have a crease down my trousers like Mr. GERALD Du MAUEIEB, or go out with anything but a dusty overcoat and dustier hat. But with Lidbetter . . . ! How do people get on without Lid- betters ? I wondered. I suppose there are men wlio do not keep men and yet exist — men who can't say, "My man"? An odd experience. I wondered how old be was by now — Lidbetter. Difficult to tell the ago of that type, so discreet and equable. He might he anything from thirty to fifty. And what was his other name? Curious how I had never ascertained that. I must ask him, or, better still, get him to witness something and sign his full name. My will, say. Talking of wills, perhaps I ought to COMMERCIAL CANDOUR AT THE SALES. "I ASSUEB YOU, MADAM, THESE KITCHEN KNIVES REPRESENT THE GREATEST VALUE EVER OFFERED AT THE PMCE." "THEY CERTAINLY LOOK NICE AND SEEM VERY CHEAP. THE ONLY QUESTION IS — WILL THEY CUT? " "Air, MADAM, IF YOU ASK ME THAT, I'M BOUND TO SAY THEY WILL NOT; BUT IHAT IS THEIR O.VE FAULT." leave Lidbetter something after such faithful service. Good old Lidbetter ! Thus musing I walked homo. The next morning I went to the shop and asked for the parcel. "You surely won't carry ifc yourself ? " the shopkeeper said. " I would have sent it only I understood that your man would call." " I haven't got a man/' I said. "I 've never had one." " Pardon," ha replied, and gave me the parcel. " Two quite unique golf performances have been made on the Lutterworth course. The Rev. W. C. Stocks and Mr. P. Marriott were playing a round of eighteen holes last Friday, and at the third hole, which is an iron shot (145 yards), 51 r. Marriott surprised himself and amtiiiud his opponent by holing cut with an iron. Then when they came to the eighth hole, which is 188 yards distance, the rev. gentleman went one better. Taking his brassey, he had the delightful experience of seeing his b.ill roll into the hole. Both shots were magnificently directed." M irkct Harborou'jU Advertiser. We guessed at once that they must have been fairly straight. 86 lUKCH, OR IKE LOKLON CIIAE1VAEI. 4, 1914. THE YELLOW FURZE. (A Tragedy in One Act, which may lie 2>layed ly the. Abbey Theatre players without fee.) SCENE I. [The kitchen in the M'Ganns' house. Mrs. M'Gann, Sheila M'Gann, Molly M'Gann, Aloysius Murphy, and Jeremiah Dunphy sit round the fire, top left centre. The door is top right centre. On the left side is a window. Four large grandfather clocks are M'rs. M'dann. Musha, don't bo fright- ened, child ! Sure, it 's only poor ould Blithero* Put. (She goes 'to the. door and opens it.) Come in, Pat, and have a bite an' a sup to warm ye this terrible night. [The old man enters. He comes sloicly over to the hearth, tapping with his stick, and seats himself in front of the fire. He seems to stare at tJic glowing turf. At last he speaks. Blithero Pat. Comin' over the bog I met Black Finnegan. He had a standing here and there round the j powerful drop o' the drink on him. In front of the fire is room. seated a little ^uee bit of a pigeen. The Stranger isseatcd by the window, apart from the rest. As the curtain rises one of the clocks strikes two, another strikes eleven, while the others remain silent. It is tints impossible to tell what time it is. The Stranger gazes out of the window. No one speaks. The curtain falls. SCENE II. [Much the same, except that the window is now on the right side. The women are engaged in pseling potatoes. The Stranger is obviously much embarrassed at the sudden i change in the position of the window. Jeremiah. Tis a terrible night — a terrible wet night. Molly. Sure an' it 's yourself that has no call to say the same, Jerry Dunphy, an' you saying a minute since that ye were as dry as ye could be ! [The rest break into a roar of laughter, with the exception of the Stranger and the pig. Aloysius (slapping his knee). A good wan, that ! It 's yourself is the smart girl, Molly ! [The door is suddenly flung open with great violence and young Michael enters. He is carrying a number of h urls. Jeremiah. Power to ye, Michael avick ! And did ye win to-day ? Michael. Is it win ? And will ye tell mo why wouldn't wo win? [Sheila is about to S2>eak, lut checks herself as a thin /i/jtiiirj voice is heard chant inj outside. The Voice. " There is a little man In a dirty wee shebeen, And the spalpeens do be leppin' in the bog." [The voice ends on a high note, which quavers away into silence. Sheila. The blessed Saints preserve us ! What was that ? SCENE — Village Concert — Squire's turn to sing. Official. " 'OPE you GETS Q-S ALL IUGHT, SIB. IT ' FAIIILY GOOD OOP T' NOW." Molly. The Saints preserve us from that man ! dull Blithero Pat (continuing in a monotone). And Shaun M'Gann was with him. [Mrs. M'Gann sits back with a look of horror on her face. Aloysius. Shaun does bo a terrible man when he 's on the drink. the [The pig rises and