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Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, 192-06-30
Author: Various
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, 192-06-30" ***

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VOL. 158.

June 30th, 1920.


Fewer births are recorded in Ireland during the past seven months. No
surprise can be felt, for we cannot imagine anybody being born in Ireland
on purpose just now.

* * *

A London firm are now manufacturing what they call the smallest motor-car
on the market. How great a boon this will be to the general public will be
gathered from the report that one of these cars has been knocked down by a

* * *

According to a Sunday paper MUSTAPHA KEMAL wants as soldiers only those who
will die for their belief in his cause. Previous experience is not

* * *

Citizens of Ealing have protested against Sunday concerts unless Sunday
bathing is also permitted. The pre-war custom of merely sponging the ears
after attending a recital was never wholly satisfactory.

* * *

According to an inscription on the score card of the North Berwick Club,
"golf is a science in which you may exhaust yourself but never your
subject." Several clubs, however, claim to possess colonels who can say
practically all that is worth saying about the game without stopping to get
their second wind.

* * *

Girls have broadened out a lot, declared a speaker at the annual conference
of the Head-mistresses' Association. The home-made jumper, it appears, has
been coming in for a good deal of unmerited blame.

* * *

A middle-aged man was charged at the Thames Police Court the other day with
having an altercation with a lamp-post. It appears that the man called the
lamp-post "Pussyfoot," and the latter promptly knocked him down.

* * *

Special courts, it is stated, are to be set up for the trial of Irish
criminals. The need, we gather, is for some machinery by which the trial
can be conducted in the absence of the prisoner.

* * *

"I have put in a good three months in the garden," Mr. SMILLIE told a
reporter, on his return to London, "and have coaxed some nice red roses
out." Coaxing the nice red miners out is comparatively easy work.

* * *

On a question of equipment Ashford Fire Brigade has resigned. It is not
known yet whether local fires will go out in sympathy with the Brigade.

* * *

Letchworth, the first Garden City, has voted itself dry by a majority of
sixty-five. There seems to be a lack of hospitality in this attempt to
discourage American visitors.

* * *

The latest news from Turkey, Russia and Ireland sets us wondering what the
War made the world safe for.

* * *

Ants, we are informed, will not come near the hands of a person if well
rubbed with a raw onion. The last time we attempted to rub an ant with a
raw onion he broke away and made a dash for the hills.

* * *

_The Chicago Tribune_ points out that two attempts have been made on the
life of the EX-KAISER. It is hoped that he will realise that it would be a
breach of etiquette to get assassinated before the Allies have decided what
is to be done with him.

* * *

We understand that one of the New Poor who recently found a burglar in his
house searching for money immediately offered the intruder ten per cent. if
he proved successful.

* * *

Referring to the report in these columns last week that two bricklayers
were seen to remove their coats at Finsbury Park, we now hear that it was
simply done to oblige a photographer who was understood to have been sent
down by Dr. ADDISON.

* * *

Among the articles left in trains on a South Coast railway is a sandwich.
Unless claimed within three days we understand that it will be broken up
and sold to defray expenses.

       *       *       *       *       *


Mr. Punch begs leave to draw the attention of the Intelligent Public to the
fact that on Monday next, July 5th, he proposes to publish a Special Summer
Number. All his previous Summer Numbers have appeared in the form of an
ordinary weekly issue, with additional holiday and other matter. This is a
Special Summer Number, altogether distinct from the weekly issue. It will
contain thirty-six pages, almost entirely made up of drawings, and
including several pages of illustrations in three colours. Mr. Punch has
great pleasure in inviting his friends to encourage him in this new

       *       *       *       *       *


       *       *       *       *       *



    To-day is the longest day."--"_Daily Mail_," _June 21st_.

       *       *       *       *       *


    "The most interesting features of the vital statistics of Scotland....
    The girth-rate was higher than those of all first quarters since 1891.
    --_Daily Paper._

       *       *       *       *       *


    "---- TOWN COUNCIL.


    MORE INCREASES OF WAGS."--_Provincial Paper._

       *       *       *       *       *


    "Mr. Churchill has made up his mind, but if he gets his way every
    tadpole and tapir will take it as a precedent."--_Daily News._

       *       *       *       *       *

    "In a driving competition Ray drove 723 yards, one inch."--_South
    African Paper._

Another inch, and we should have refused to believe it.

       *       *       *       *       *


    WASHINGTON, May 25.--President Wilson Monday asked authority from
    Congress for the United States to accept a mandate over Armenia.--
    _Canadian Paper._

But there is no reason to believe that the headline is inaccurate.

       *       *       *       *       *


    [Now that holiday-planning is in season we have pleasure in announcing
    a few proposed schemes for the recreation of some of the mighty brains
    that shape our destinies and guide our groping intelligences. But it
    must be clearly understood that in these inconstant times we cannot
    vouch for their authenticity or guarantee fulfilment.]

MR. ASQUITH'S recent success in spotting the winner of the Derby is
believed to have inspired Mr. LLOYD GEORGE with an idea of combining his
present policy of always going one, if not two or three, better than the
Old Man with a public demonstration of the extent to which the crude
Puritanism of his youth has been mellowed by sympathies more in keeping
with his later political alliances. He is credited with the intention of
putting to appropriate use his peculiar gifts of non-committal prophecy and
persuasive casuistry, and at the same time making sure of a profitable
holiday in the open air by "doing" the Sussex Fortnight, beginning with the
Goodwood meeting, in the capacity of Downy Dave, a race-course tipster.

       *       *       *       *       *

There is reason to believe that, if the Recess should afford Sir WILLIAM
SUTHERLAND an opportunity to indulge his craving for the Simple Life, he
will proceed to Italy to join the coterie of ascetics known as the Assisi
Set. His conspicuous ability in telling the tale to the London Pressmen
encourages expectations that he will be no less successful as a preacher to
the birds, after the manner of St. FRANCIS, the founder of the cult.

       *       *       *       *       *

In financial circles it is expected that Mr. CHAMBERLAIN will spend the
vacation _incognito_ in the neighbourhood of Blackpool, partly for the sake
of the invigorating air, but mainly, in view of the abnormal prosperity of
Lancashire, for the purpose of considering on the spot the possibilities of
a levy on capital as a local experiment.

       *       *       *       *       *

A rumour is current in Whitehall, and gains colour from the activity in
certain seaports, that, in consequence of Earl CURZON'S having been
informed that the number of Channel-swimmers is likely to be unusually
large this summer, his lordship has decided to take command of a fleet of
Foreign Office launches, which will patrol the coast to make sure that none
of these persons is unprovided with a passport.

       *       *       *       *       *

At Unity House a suspicion is entertained that Sir ERIC GEDDES contemplates
utilising the holidays for the double purpose of working off superfluous
steam and familiarizing himself with the true attitude of the railwaymen by
working as a stoker on one of the great main lines. Should this scheme be
carried into effect arrangements are in readiness to compel him to become a
member of the N.U.R.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is hoped that Mr. AUGUSTUS JOHN will be able to accompany Lord
BEAVERBROOK to Canada this summer, so that his lordship may gratify his
lifelong ambition to be painted by Mr. JOHN, with the primeval backwoods
for a setting, in the character of a _coureur-des-bois_, of the type
immortalized by Sir GILBERT PARKER in _Pierre_.

       *       *       *       *       *

As far as can be ascertained, Mr. BERNARD SHAW intends to devote the
holidays to verifying the report of his namesake, Mr. TOM SHAW (with whom
he has been stupidly confused), on the Bolshevik _régime_. He will probably
enter Russia secretly, accompanied by a mixed party of vegetarian Fabians
disguised as Muscovites, so that in the event of being denounced as
Boorjoos they may hope to pass for returning Dukhobors, or, in case of
detection, for an amateur theatrical company touring with _Labour's Love's

       *       *       *       *       *

We understand that Lords LONSDALE and BIRKENHEAD are making arrangements
for a joint trip to Cuba, in order to investigate personally the condition
and prospects of the Havana leaf industry. It will not be surprising if
this visit bears fruit in the shape of the eighteen-inch super-cigar which
sporting men have been for so long demanding.

       *       *       *       *       *


There were twenty-three ways of eating asparagus known to the ancients. Of
these the best known method was to suspend it on pulleys about three feet
from the ground and "approach the green" on one's back along the floor; but
it was discontinued about the middle of the fourth century, and no new
method worthy of serious consideration was subsequently evolved, till the
August or September of 1875, when a Mr. Gunter-Brown wrote a letter to the
_A.A.R._ (_The Asparagus Absorbers' Review and Gross Feeders' Gazette_),
saying that he had patented a scheme more cleanly and less unsightly than
the practice of tilting the head backward at an angle of forty-five degrees
and lowering the asparagus into the expectant face, which is shown by
statistics to have been the mode usually adopted at that time.

Mr. Gunter-Brown's apparatus, necessary to the method he advocated,
consisted of a silver or plated tube, into which each branch of asparagus,
except the last inch, was placed, and so drawn into the mouth by suction,
the eater grasping the last uneatable inch, together with the butt end of
the tube, in the palm of his hand. Asparagus branches being of variable
girth, a rubber washer inserted in the end of the tube furthest from the
eater's mouth helped to cause a vacuum.

The inventor claimed that the edible portion of the delicacy became
detached if the intake of the eater was strong enough, but he overlooked
the fact that the necessary force caused the asparagus to pass through the
epiglottis into the oesophagus before the eater had time to enjoy the taste
(as was proved by experiment) and so all sense of pleasure was lost.

More prospective marriages have been marred through the abuse of asparagus
at table than through mixed bathing at Tunbridge Wells. For instance,
though the matter was hushed up at the time, it is an open secret among
their friends that Miss Gladys Devereux broke off her engagement to young
Percy Gore-Mont on account of his _gaucherie_ when assimilating this weed
at a dinner-party. It seems that he simply threw himself at the stuff, and
that one of the servants had to comb the melted butter out of his hair
before he could appear in the drawing-room.

The case of the Timminses, too, presents very sad features, though the
marriage was not in this case abandoned, the high contracting parties not
having once encountered a dish of asparagus simultaneously during the
engagement. Yet it is more than rumoured that when, at the end of the close
season, asparagus may be hunted, there is considerable friction in the
Timminses' household, because Mrs. Timmins plays with a straight fork,
while Timmins affects the crouching style.

Happily, however, a light at last appears to be shining through the
darkness. Under the auspices of the Vegetable Growers Association (Luxury
Trades section) an asparagus eating contest has been arranged to take place
in the Floral Hall early in July. As the entrants to date include a
contortionist and at least three well-known war-profiteers it is
confidently expected that some startling methods will be exhibited which
may revolutionise asparagus-eating in this country.

       *       *       *       *       *

    "DUNOON.--Sitting room and two bedrooms to let for month of Dunoon."--
    _Scotch Paper._

We welcome the introduction of "rhyming slang" to brighten up the
advertisement columns.

       *       *       *       *       *



       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Lady of the Manor._ "HOWDY, BO? SIT RIGHT DOWN. I SURE HOPE

       *       *       *       *       *


In the Soviet Republic of Russia, I am told, no one can lay claim to the
title of worker unless his hands are hardened and roughened by toil, and
LENIN and TROTSKY have to take their turns at the rack, like the commonest
executioner. In England we are not nearly so particular about the manual
test, and, besides feeling quite kindly disposed towards professional
footballers, tea-tasters and the men who stand on Cornish cliffs and shout
when they see the pilchard shoals come in, we still give a certain amount
of credit to mere brain-work as well.

There is, however, a poisonous idea prevalent, especially amongst the women
of this country, that a fellow is not working with his brain unless he is
walking rapidly up and down the room with wrinkles on his forehead, or
sitting on a hard chair at a table with a file of papers in front of him.
But there is no rule of this sort about the birth of great and beautiful
ideas in the human brain. It is all a matter of individual taste and habit.
I know a man, a poet, who thinks best on the Underground Railway, and that
is the reason why he said the other day, "Give me to gaze once more on the
blue hills," to the girl in the booking-office, when what he really wanted
was a ticket (of a light heliotrope colour) to St. James's Park. Lord
BYRON, on the other hand, composed a sorrowful ditty on the decadence of
the Isles of Greece whilst shaving; but the invention of the safety-razor
and the energetic action of M. VENIZELOS will most likely render it
unnecessary for anyone to repeat such a performance. As for the people who
have a sudden bright idea whilst they are dressing for dinner, they may be
dismissed at once, for they nearly always go to bed by mistake and, when
they wake up again extremely hungry, they have forgotten what it was.

Most experts are really agreed that a recumbent or semi-recumbent position
is the best for creative thought, and another friend of mine, also a maker
of verses, has patented the very ingenious device of a pair of stirrups
just under the mantelshelf, so that, when he sits back in his armchair, he
can manage his Pegasus without having his feet continually slipping off the
marble surface into the fender.

Much may be said too for a seat in a first-class railway carriage, when you
have the compartment all to yourself and the train is going at sixty miles
an hour or more. But England is hardly spacious enough for a really
sustained inspiration; and the result of being turned out suddenly at
Thurso, N.B., or Penzance is that some opening flower of the human
intellect fails to achieve its perfect bloom, and as likely as not your
golf clubs are left in the rack.

There is also, of course, an influential school which believes strongly in
the early morning tea hour, and people who ought to know tell me that Mr.
WINSTON CHURCHILL plans new uniforms for the Guards as well as the campaign
in Mesopotamia with pink pyjamas on, and that the PRIME MINISTER can never
be persuaded to get up for breakfast until he has hit on a few of those
striking repartees which are subsequently translated by his posse of
interpreters into Russian, Italian, Bohemian and Erse.

For my part, however, I swear by a Chesterfield sofa, a large one, on which
you can lie at full length, as I am lying now; the most comfortable thing
there is on earth, I think, except perhaps a truss of hay, when one has
been riding for about six consecutive hours in an army saddle. But there
are disadvantages even about a Chesterfield sofa. It is, to begin with, in
the drawing-room and in the drawing-room one is not so entirely immune from
the trivial incidents of everyday life as I like to be when I am having
brain-waves. Doors are opened and this creates a draught, and it is not the
slightest use attempting a real work of imagination when people will come
in and ask if I am lying on _The Literary Supplement_ of _The Times_ (as if
it were likely), or the anti-aircraft gun that the children were playing
with after lunch. For this reason I have had to invent an even better thing
than the ordinary Chesterfield sofa, and since it will be, when made, the
noblest piece of scientific upholstery in the world I will ask the printer
to write the next sentence in italics, please.

_It is a Chesterfield sofa enclosed on all four sides._ Thank you.

The marvels of this receptacle for human thought will dawn upon the reader
by slow degrees. Try to imagine yourself ensconced there, having climbed up
by the short flight of steps which will be attached to it, enisled and
remote amidst the surging traffic that sweeps through a drawing-room.
Instead of making a rapid bolt to escape from callers and probably meeting
them full tilt in the hall, you simply stay on, thinking. You have nothing
to fear from them, unless they are so inquisitive and ill-mannered as to
come and peep over the edge. With plenty of tobacco, a writing tablet and a
fountain-pen, you can stare at the anaglypta ceiling and dream noble
thoughts and put them down when you like without interruption. On sunny
days the apparatus can be wheeled on to the balcony, where the sapphire sky
will be exchanged for the anaglypta ceiling; and for winter use a metal
base will be supplied, under which you can place either an oil-stove or an
electric radiator.

I should like to see this four-sided Chesterfield in offices also. The
master-strokes of commercial and administrative skill would be much more
masterly with most people if they did not have to proceed from a hard
office chair. You can easily dictate to a typist from the interior of a
Chesterfield, and, though I know that business men and Government officials
are often subjected to deputations, during which they have to look their
persecutors in the face, this difficulty could be overcome by means of a
sliding panel, through which the face of the recumbent administrator could
be poked when necessary, wearing the proper expression of shrewdness,
terror, conciliation or rage. I should like Sir ERIC GEDDES to have one of
my four-sided Chesterfields.

With his usual sagacity the reader will probably remark here that the
four-sided Chesterfield can be procured ready-made at any moment by turning
the usual article round and pushing it up against the wall. This point has
not escaped notice, my friend. But you can hardly imagine the objections
that will be urged by the female members of your household against adopting
such a course in the drawing-room. They will assert, amongst other things,
that Mrs. Ponsonby-Smith is on the point of arriving and that she will
think you've done it on purpose.

I shall have the upholsterer in to-morrow.


       *       *       *       *       *




       *       *       *       *       *


MR. COMPTON MACKENZIE has found it necessary to state publicly in a
dedication that his books have not been written by his sister.

The following extracts are taken from possible future dedications by
various authors:--

_Mr. H.G. WELLS to the Bishop of LONDON._

As I have seen it stated in various journals that you are the author of my
book, _The Soul of a Bishop_, I hereby take the opportunity of informing
your Lordship most definitely and emphatically that you are _not_. That
book and also _The Passionate Friends_ were written without any assistance
from the episcopal bench. To avoid future misunderstanding I may say that
all my books are written by myself. If at any time it is suggested that any
publication of your Lordship has been written by me, I shall be glad if you
will immediately issue a contradiction.

_Mr. BERNARD SHAW to the Editor of "The Morning Post."_

You have not written my books. You have not written my plays. Any statement
to the contrary is an infamous falsehood. No one else, dead or alive, could
ever have written anything which I have written. When I have become an
imbecile, which is not likely to happen yet, as I am a vegetarian and do
not read your rag, it will be time enough for other people to lay claim to
my work. Nor have I ever assisted you in conducting that which you call a
paper, nor have I ever written an editorial for its columns. Please let
this matter have your futile attention.


If I did not believe your Lordship to be really innosent I should be very
vexed with you. But let me explain. I have heard it said in reliable
quarters that you are the auther of _The Young Visiters_. Oh, my Lord! my
Lord! I thought everybody knew by now that no one helped me even to spell a
word. I have read your Lordship's books with pleasure and of course realise
their promise. But it is all very diferent stuff from _The Young Visiters_.
Please in the future disclaim all credit for giving me my idears, and in
return I can assure you that your skemes for the better education of the
people shall have my enthoosiastic suport.

_Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT to The Man in the Street._

The last thing that I wish is that you should he misunderstood; all my life
I have laboured to explain you to yourself. That my explanation has pleased
you is shown by the fact that you buy my books. But you have commenced to
give yourself airs, my man, and it is time you were put in your place. My
books are so much to your taste that you have been led to believe yourself
the author. Now please understand my books are written _for_ you and not
_by_ you. You merely exist--thanks to me--and pay. I have been told that I
once wrote a book called _The Old Wives' Tale_. If so, that was in earlier
days, and you have long since forgiven me. And do you not owe me something
for _The Pretty Lady_? Have I not shown you that your love is both sacred
and profane? As I have enough to contend with from those who care for
literature I hope any further word from me on this subject will be


The phenomenal success of our recent volumes has, I understand, led a
certain section of our public to believe that you are the author of several
of my books. In particular it has been stated that _The Rosary_ was written
by your Lordship. As you know, I have a great respect for the aristocracy,
and I do not suggest that you have deliberately put yourself forward as the
author of my books. You will, however, understand me when I say that only
your Lordship could express all that I feel about the matter. The mixing up
of our identities is probably explained by the fact that we are both
stylists and seekers for the _mot juste_. Will you please assist me in
making it clear that we work independently? As I am staying in a country
parsonage and it is our custom to read one another's letters over the
breakfast-table, I shall be glad if any reply you may wish to make should
be sent to the Editor of _The Times_.


Our common concern with the life beyond has become so well known that our
interests in this present life are in danger of becoming involved. In a
volume of _Sherlock Holmes_ stories recently purchased abroad I find you
described as the author, and another book assures me that I have written
extensively on the Atomic Theory. You will, I am sure, see the harm which I
am likely to suffer through such mistakes. Nor does the confusion end here.
I find that my novel, _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, is now stated to be
by Sir CONAN LODGE, and another book of mine, _The Lost World_, to be by
Sir OLIVER DOYLE. Also I have seen myself described as "The Principal of
Birmingham University," and yourself as the well-known detective of Baker
Street. May I solicit your aid in helping me to suppress any further
confusion of our respective genii? My best wishes to you and the good work.

       *       *       *       *       *


    ["Electric bore, one man, portable."--_Trade Journal_.]

  Though not a scientific bean
  I am occasionally seen
  Scanning a technic magazine.

  I love to learn of any wheeze
  Wherewith to win by quick degrees
  A rich sufficiency of ease.

  And so it thrilled me to the core
  To read the phrase, "Electric bore,"
  And think of happy days in store.

  In former times I'd often start
  Abroad with eagerness of heart
  To patronise dramatic art;

  Only at curtain's fall to come
  Homeward again, dejected, glum,
  And overwhelmed by tedium.

  With _ennui_  verging on distress
  I'd witnessed from the circle (dress)
  Some transatlantic HUGE SUCCESS;

  Or else some play of Irish life,
  Ending with father, son and wife
  Impaled upon a single knife;

  Or haply I had chanced to choose
  Some even surer source of blues,
  One of the things they call revues.

  But now those times are passed away;
  Electric bores have come to stay;
  I mean to purchase one to-day.

  I don't know how it works, but an
  Authority declares it can
  Be guided by a single man.

  I have in mind a little niche
  Beside my study window which
  Will just accommodate the switch.

  Henceforth abroad no more I'll roam,
  But turn it on at evening's gloam
  And yawn my time away at home.

       *       *       *       *       *


    "Visitors to ---- this summer need not fear want of recreation, for the
    Urban Council on Wednesday granted an application by Mr. ---- for leave
    to place an additional donkey on the beach."--_Provincial Paper._

       *       *       *       *       *

    "Mr. Taylor, who had relieved Mr. Higgins, here had the misfortune to
    see Seymour badly hit over the right eye on attempting to hook one of
    his rising deliveries."--_Daily Paper._

SEYMOUR, we understand, sympathised warmly with Mr. TAYLOR over this piece
of bad luck.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES.


       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: AT WIMBLEDON.


_Diana_ (_fresh from Ascot_). "PUT ME THIRTY SHILLINGS ON."]

       *       *       *       *       *


The life of a public man is a dog's life. I don't know why a dog's life
should be the type and summit of unpleasantness in lives; for myself I
should have thought it was rather a good life; no clothes to buy and no
shortage of smells; but there it is. The reason is perhaps that a dog
spends most of his day just finding a really good smell and being diverted
from it by something else, a loud whistle in front or a motor-bicycle or
another smell. He rushes off then after the whistler or the motor-bicycle
or the new smell, missing all kinds of good smells on the way and never
getting the cream of the old one. And that is like the day of the public

He sits up in bed in the morning, having his breakfast and thinking over
the smells he is going to have during the day. There is an enormous choice.
The whole of the bed is covered with papers; there are tables on either
side of the bed covered with papers, letters and memoranda, and agenda and
minutes and constituents' grievances, and charitable appeals and ordinary
begs. When he moves his foot there is a great crackling, and the surface
papers float off into the air and are wafted about the room. Each paper
represents a different smell. He is going to make a speech to the
Bottle-Washers' Union at 11 A.M. and he is reading the notes of his speech;
but before that he has got to introduce a deputation of Fish-Friers to the
HOME SECRETARY at ten and he is trying to find out what the Fish-Friers are
after. But the telephone-bell keeps on ringing and the papers keep on
floating away, and the papers about the Fish-Friers keep mixing themselves
up with the papers about the Bottle-Washers, and the valet keeps coming in
to say that the bath is prepared or the hosier has come, so that it is all
very difficult.

All his family ring him up, and all the people who were at the meeting last
night and were not quite satisfied with the terms of the Resolution, and
all the people who are interested in Fish-Frying and Bottle-Washing, and
all the people who want him to make a speech at Cardiff next year, and
several newspapers who would like to interview him about the Sewers and
Drains Bill, and a man whose uncle has not yet been demobilised, and a lady
whose first-born son would like to be President of the Board of Trade as
soon as it can be arranged. Meanwhile people begin to drift into the room.
The Private Secretary drifts in with a despatch-case, full of new smells
and some old ones; and the valet drifts in to say that the bath is still
prepared, and a haircutter and a man from the shirt-makers, and the
Secretary of the Fish-Friers, who has looked in for a quiet talk about the

When they are all ready for their quiet talks the public man decides that
it is time he got up; he leaps out of bed and rushes out of the room and
shaves and baths and does his exercises very very quickly. Then he rushes
back and has a talk with the HOME SECRETARY on the telephone while he is
drying his ears. When his ears are nice and dry he rings off and ties his
tie, meanwhile dictating a nasty letter to _The Times_ about the Scavengers
(Minimum Wage) (Scotland) No. 2 Bill. In the middle of this letter two new
crises arise--(1) The HOME SECRETARY'S Private Secretary's Secretary rings
up and says that the Fish-Friers' deputation is postponed till 11 A.M.
because of a Cabinet Meeting about the new war. (2) The Assistant-Secretary
to the PRIME MINISTER'S Principal Secretary's Secretary rings up and says
that the PRIME MINISTER can see the public man for ten seconds at one
minute past eleven. It is now clear that the Bottle-Washers and the
Fish-Friers and the PRIME MINISTER are going to clash pretty badly, and a
scene of intense confusion takes place. The public man runs about the room
in his shirt-sleeves smelling distractedly at the papers on the floor and
on the bed and everywhere else. Some of the papers he throws at the Private
Secretary and tells him to write a memorandum about them, and go and see
the War Office about them and have six copies made of them. Most of them,
however, he just throws on the floor or hides away in a dressing-gown where
the Private Secretary won't find them; this is the only way of making sure
of a permanent supply of good crises. A crisis about a lost document is far
and away the most fruitful kind of crisis.

Meanwhile the valet pursues the public man about the room with spats and
tries to attach them to his person. If he can attach both spats before the
Fish-Friers' man really gets hold of him he has won the game. The
Fish-Friers' man keeps clearing his throat and beginning, "The position is
this--"; and the Private Secretary keeps saying in a cold dispassionate
voice, "Are you going to the Lord Mayor's lunch?" or "How much will you
give to the Dyspeptic Postmen's Association?" or "What about this letter
from Bunt?"

The public man takes no notice of any one of them, but says rapidly over
and over again, "Where are my spectacles?" or "What have you done with the
brown socks?" He is playing for time. If he can put them off for a little
more, some new crisis may occur and he will be able to say that he is too
busy to deal with them now.

The Private Secretary knows this and continues to say, "Are you going to
the Lord Mayor's lunch?" The Fish-Friers' man doesn't know it, and crawls
about excitedly on the floor looking for the spectacles under the bed. When
he is well under the bed the public man tells the Private Secretary to ring
up the Bottle-Washers and the Fish-Friers and the PRIME MINISTER and
arrange things somehow, and rushes out of the room. He is hotly pursued by
the valet and the hosier and the hairdresser, but there's a taxi at the
door and with any luck he will now get clear away. In the hall, however,
the cook meets him in order to give notice, and by the time he has dealt
with that crisis the Private Secretary has had three wrong numbers and
given it up, and the Fish-Friers' man has bumped his head and given it up.
They give chase together and catch the public man just as he is escaping
from the front-door. The Private Secretary starts again about the Lord
Mayor's lunch, and the Fish-Friers' man starts again about the position.

The public man knows now that he is done, so he drives them into the taxi
and says he will talk to them on the way to the PRIME MINISTER. The taxi
dashes off, leaving the hosier and the hairdresser and the valet wringing
their hands in the hall.

The only thing the public man can do now is to invent a new crisis for the
Private Secretary, who is still saying in a cold dispassionate voice, "Are
you going to the Lord Mayor's lunch?"

So he thinks of one of the letters he has hidden in his dressing-gown and
tells the Private Secretary that he must have that letter for the
Bottle-Washers' meeting. Then he stops the taxi at a place where there is
no Underground and no 'bus, and pushes the Private Secretary out. He has
disposed of the Private Secretary for the day.

But the Fish-Friers' man's throat is practically clear by now and he gets
to work at once. The public man pays no attention but prepares in his mind
his opening sentences to the PRIME MINISTER. In the Park he sees two other
public men walking and he takes them into the cab. Each of them has
discovered some entirely new smells and starts talking about them at once
very fast. The public man promises to go and try them all immediately. When
he gets to the PRIME MINISTER'S he rings up and cancels the Fish-Friers and
the Bottle-Washers. When he has done that the Assistant-Secretary to the
PRIME MINISTER'S Principal Private Secretary's Secretary comes out and says
that the PRIME MINISTER has been called away suddenly to Geneva.

The public man then goes off after the new smells. A dog's life.


       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Visitor_ (_to actor friend_). "Y'KNOW, I WAS GOIN' ON THE

       *       *       *       *       *


"Rabbit trapper would take so much the couple or rent them, or give so much
the couple and kill them."--_Scotch Paper._

       *       *       *       *       *


              A.D. 1760.

        Sleep, my little ugling,
        Daddy's gone a-smuggling,
  Daddy's gone to Roscoff in the _Mevagissey Maid_,
        A sloop of ninety tons
        With ten brass-carriage guns,
  To teach the King's ships manners and respect for honest trade.

        Hush, my joy and sorrow,
        Daddy'll come to-morrow
  Bringing baccy, tea and snuff and brandy home from France;
        And he'll run the goods ashore
        While the old Collectors snore
  And the wicked troopers gamble in the dens of Penzance.

        Rock-a-bye, my honey,
        Daddy's making money;
  You shall be a gentleman and sail with privateers,
        With a silver cup for sack
        And a blue coat on your back,
  With diamonds on your finger-bones and gold rings in your ears.


       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Motorist._ "THAT REMINDS ME--I NEVER POSTED THAT LETTER."]

       *       *       *       *       *


DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I enclose a cut from _Le Radical_, one of the leading
Mauritius papers, and on behalf of the lovers of our national game in the
island venture to ask for information regarding the last match recorded:--

"Londres, 14 mai, 4 hres P.M.--Mary-le-bone a battu Nottingham par 5
wickets; Lancashire a battu Leichester; Sussex a battu Warrick. En second
lieu un joueur du Sussex a abattu H. Wilson par 187 wickets."

We are much perturbed at the strange developments that are evidently taking
place in the game at home. Was this match, we want to know, a single-wicket
game between the Sussex player and H. WILSON? If so how did he beat him by
187 wickets?

An ex-captain of the Cambridge eleven living here is of the opinion that,
in order to make cricket more popular, the numbers of the opposing sides
are being increased, and that this match must have been between a team of,
say, a couple of hundred Sussex players and one of a like number captained
by H. WILSON, and that only some dozen wickets had fallen in the second
innings when the match ended. If this is the correct interpretation we
should be very grateful for the rules, plan of the field, etc., as we are
most anxious to move with the times in this little outpost of Empire.

I fear however that we shall have some difficulty here in raising two teams
of more than a hundred-a-side.

We presume that, as a match of eleven-a-side takes two or three days to
finish, about six or eight weeks are allotted to this new game.

Any help that you can give us, Sir, will be much appreciated.

Yours faithfully,


       *       *       *       *       *


As an interesting supplement to the announcement that Sir THOMAS LIPTON has
kindly placed his bungalows and estates in Ceylon at the disposal of the
East and West Films, Limited, for the filming of The Life of BUDDHA, we are
glad to learn that preparations are already well advanced for the
presentation of the Life of HANNIBAL on the screen.

Messrs. Sowerly and Bitterton, the well-known vinegar manufacturers, have
undertaken to provide the necessary plant for illustration of the famous
exploit of splitting the rocks with that disintegrating condiment, and
Messrs. Rappin and Jebb, the famous cutlers, have been approached with a
view to furnish the necessary implements for the portrayal of the tragedy
of the Caudine Forks. Professor Chollop, who is superintending the taking
of the pictures of the battle of Cannæ and the subsequent period of repose
at Capua in their proper atmosphere, states that he is receiving every
support from the local condottieri, pifferari, banditti and lazzaroni, and
expects to be able to complete his task by the late autumn.

A certain amount of antagonism, on humanitarian grounds, has been shown by
the Italian Government to the importation of a herd of elephants, which
were essential to the realistic depiction of the passage of the Alps by the
Carthaginian army; but it is hoped that by the use of skis the transit may
be effected without undue casualties among the elephantine fraternity.

Lord FISHER has been invited to impersonate SCIPIO, and the _rôle_ of
FABIUS, the originator of the "Wait and See" policy, has been offered to
Mr. ASQUITH, but authentic details are as yet lacking as to their decision.

       *       *       *       *       *



["The Irish members of the N.U.R. expressed publicly their feeling of
disgust at murder and outrage."--_Mr. J.H. THOMAS._]]

       *       *       *       *       *


_Monday, June 21st._--While the PRIME MINISTER was celebrating the
longest--and pretty nearly the hottest--day by a _vin d'honneur_ at
Boulogne Mr. BONAR LAW had to content himself with small beer in the

The Government, it seems, is to offer its services to effect a peaceful
settlement between the Imam YAHYA and the Said IDRISSI, who are rival
rulers in Arabia. There is believed to be a possibility that in return the
said Said will offer his services to effect a peaceful settlement in
Hibernia Infelix.

The Government is not so indifferent to economy as is sometimes suggested.
The PRIME MINISTER'S famous letter to the Departments was only written in
August last, yet already, Mr. BONAR LAW assured the House, some progress
has been made in reducing redundant staffs, and the Government has
appointed--no, I beg pardon, "decided to appoint"--independent Committees
to carry out investigations. The hustlers!


The Member for Wood Green, who urged that the Treasury should prepare an
estimate of the national income, with the view of limiting the national
expenditure to a definite proportion of that amount, displayed, it seems to
me, amazing temerity. The course of taxation in recent years encourages the
belief that the only thing that restrains the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER
from taking our little all is that he does not know how much it is.

Capt. WEDGEWOOD BENN'S complaint that the MINISTER OF TRANSPORT habitually
absented himself from the House met with little encouragement from the
SPEAKER, who sarcastically inquired if he should send the SERJEANT-AT-ARMS
to fetch the delinquent. Capt. BENN then dropped the subject, and Sir COLIN
KEPPEL looked relieved.

The Government insisted on taking the Report stage and Third Reading of the
Rent (Restrictions) Bill at one sitting, and kept the House up till
half-past three in order to do it. Dr. ADDISON had need of what the IRON
DUKE called "two o'clock in the morning courage" to ward off attacks. Once,
when Sir ARTHUR FELL was depicting the desperate plight of the landladies
of Yarmouth, forbidden under a penalty of a hundred pounds to charge more
than twenty-five per cent. in excess of their pre-war prices, it looked as
if the Minister must give way; but with some difficulty he convinced his
critics that the clause in question had nothing to do with seaside

_Tuesday, June 22nd._--In the Lords the Bishops, reinforced by the
ecclesiastically-minded lay Peers, made a last attempt to throw out the
Matrimonial Causes Bill. Lord BRAYE moved its rejection, and was supported
by Lord HALIFAX in a speech whose pathos was even stronger than its
argument, and by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, who admitted that reform of
the marriage laws was required, but considered that the Bill went a great
deal further than was necessary. The LORD CHANCELLOR thereupon re-stated
the case for the measure, for which be believed the Government were
prepared to give facilities in the other House, and Lord BUCKMASTER
repeated his exegesis of the vexed passage in St. MATTHEW'S Gospel, on
which the whole theological controversy turns. The Third Reading was
carried by 154 votes to 107.



The Commons in the course of the Irish Debate discussed the failure of the
Government to prevent the regrettable incidents in Derry and Dublin.
Colonel ASHLEY demanded martial law; Major O'NEILL was for organising the
loyal population; Sir KEITH FRASER approved both courses and advanced the
amazing proposition that the trouble in Ireland was entirely due to the
religious question, and that even the Sinn Feiners were loyal to the

The ATTORNEY-GENERAL FOR IRELAND pointed out that faction-fighting in Derry
was endemic, and drew an amusing picture of the old city, where everyone
had some kind of rabbit-hole from which he could emerge to fire a revolver.
As regards the general question he denied that the Constabulary had been
instructed not to shoot. On the contrary they had been told to treat
attackers as "enemies in the field," and to call upon suspected persons to
hold up their hands.

Lord ROBERT CECIL was at a loss to understand the Government that applied
coercion to the very people to whom it was preparing to hand over the
government of Southern Ireland, and Mr. INSKIP was equally at a loss to
understand the policy of the noble lord, who seemed to think that
conciliation was incompatible with putting down crime.

_Wednesday, June 23rd._--A large company, including the QUEEN and Princess
MARY, attended the House of Lords to see Prince ALBERT take his seat as
Duke of YORK. It was unfortunate that the new peer was unable to wait for
the ensuing debate, for Lord NEWTON was in his best form. His theme was the
absurdity of the present Parliamentary arrangement under which the Peers
were kept kicking their heels in London for the best months of the year,
then overwhelmed with business for a week or two, and finally despatched to
the country in time for the hunting season, which nowadays most of them
were too much impoverished to enjoy. Lord CURZON condescended a little from
his usual Olympian heights, and declared that one of the drawbacks to
conducting business in that House was the difficulty of inducing noble
Lords to attend it after dinner.



To judge by Mr. ASQUITH'S recent speeches outside he meant to have
delivered a thundering philippic against our continued occupation of
Mesopotamia. Some of the sting was taken out of the indictment by the
publication of an official statement showing that Great Britain was
remaining there at the request of the Allies. After all, as Mr. LLOYD
GEORGE observed in his reply, it would not be an economical policy to
withdraw to Basra if we were to be immediately requested to return to

The rest of the evening was devoted to a renewal of the protests against
Mr. CHURCHILL'S "Red Army." Among the critics were Mr. ESMOND HARMSWORTH
and Mr. OSWALD MOSLEY, the two "babies" of the House, and the MINISTER
adopted quite a fatherly tone in recalling his own callow youth, when he
too, just after the Boer War, denounced "the folly of gaudy and tinselled

_Thursday, June 24th._--On behalf of the Government Lord ONSLOW gave a
rather chilly welcome to Lord BALFOUR OF BURLEIGH'S Bill for the regulation
of advertisements. It is true that the noble author had explained that his
object was to secure "publicity without offence," but I believe he had no
desire to cramp the PRIME MINISTER'S style.

Sir ERIC GEDDES belongs to that wicked species of _fauna_ that defends
itself when attacked. He complained this afternoon that Mr. ASQUITH had in
his recent speeches "trounced a beginner," but Sir ERIC showed, for a
novice, considerable aggressive power. He claimed that the Ministry of
Transport had already saved a cool million by securing the abrogation of an
extravagant contract entered into by Mr. ASQUITH'S Government. The EX
PREMIER, however, insisted that if a mistake had been made the Railway
Department of the Board of Trade could have corrected it just as well as
its grandiose successor and at an infinitely smaller cost.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Naturalised Alien._ "VY DOND YOU GED OUD OF MY VAY? DOND

_Bargeman._ "WHICH? THE RHINE?"]

       *       *       *       *       *


    (_With profound acknowledgment to the writer of the article on "Heroine
    Worship" in "The Times" of June 24th._)

While thrones and dynasties have rocked or fallen in the great world
upheaval of the last six years, there remains one form of monarchy which
has proved impervious to all the shocks of circumstance--the monarchy of
genius. If proof be demanded of this assertion we need only point to the
wonderful manifestations of loyalty evoked in the last week by the advent
of the Queen of the Film World and her admirable consort. The adoration of
MARY PICKFORD has been compared with that of MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, and not
without some show of reason, for the appeal which her acting, makes is
always to the sense of chivalry which, in however sentimental a form, is
characteristic of our race.

But the noble adulation which the latest of our royal visitors inspires is
deeper and more universal than that prompted by the charm and the
misfortunes of her namesake. MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, as the evidence of
contemporary portraits conclusively establishes, was not conspicuous for
her personal beauty. In the "Queen business" she was a failure, and her
prestige is largely if not entirely posthumous. Her character has been
impugned by historians; even her most faithful champions have not
pronounced her impeccable.

Centuries were necessary to raise MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS to her somewhat
insecure pinnacle of devotion; by the alchemy of a machine centuries have
been shortened to days and nights in the meteoric career of Miss PICKFORD.
Yet merit has joined fortune in high cabal. Handicapped by a somewhat
uneuphonious patronymic, MARY PICKFORD has established her rule without
recourse to any of the disputable methods adopted by her predecessor. At
home in all the "palaces" of both hemispheres, she owes her triumphs to the
triple endowment of genius, loveliness and gentleness. Moreover, in the
highest sense she is truly an ambassadress of our race, for the kiss which
she so graciously bestowed on Mlle. SUZANNE LENGLEN at Wimbledon on
Wednesday last has probably done even more to heal the wounds inflicted on
our gallant Allies by the disastrous policy of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE than the
heroic efforts of _The Times_ to maintain the Entente in its integrity.

The parallels and contrasts with MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS need not be further
laboured. But far too little stress has been laid on the rare felicity of a
union which links the name of Mary with that of Douglas. The annals of
British chivalry contain no more romantic or splendid entries than those
associated with Sir JAMES DOUGLAS, alternately styled the "Good" and the
"Black," hero of seventy battles and the victor in fifty-seven, peerless as
a raider, who crowned a glorious career by his mission to Palestine with
the embalmed heart of BRUCE, and his death in action against the Moors. His
illustrious namesake is now conducting a "raid" on our shores of a purely
educational and humanitarian nature, and our welcome, while it expresses
the rare and momentous influence of the film, is no mere gratitude for
pleasure afforded; it is rather the recognition of a human touch tending to
make the whole English-speaking world kin.

The visit is not unattended by risks, for the ardour of enthusiasm imposes
a corresponding strain on the endurance of this august and inimitable pair.
But there can be no doubt as to the absolute sincerity and spontaneity of
these marvellous demonstrations of loyal affection. We can only hope that,
to borrow the noble phrase of the Roman Senate in their address to NERO on
the death of AGRIPPINA, Queen PICKFORD the First may "endure her felicity
with fortitude." Conspicuous grandeur has its penalties as well as its
privileges, but the chivalric instinct is still alive in our midst; and all
of us who are not perverted or debased by the malign "wizardry" of the
PRIME MINISTER will spring to the defence of MARY "the Sweetheart of the
World," and DOUGLAS "tender and true," in their hours of peril. In that
high emprise the gentlemen of the world, however humble, stand, as of old
time, side by side and shoulder to shoulder.

       *       *       *       *       *


SCENE: _Exclusive West-End Square, with passing procession of "Reds."_



       *       *       *       *       *


We were sitting in the smoking-room when the Venerable Archdeacon entered.
He had been so long absent that we asked him the reason.

Had he been ill?

Ill? Not he. He never was better in his life. He had merely been on a motor
tour with his mother.

"Do you mean to say," someone inquired--an equally elderly member--almost
with anger, certainly with a kind of outraged surprise, "that you have a
mother still living?"

"Of course I have," said the Man of God. "My mother is not only living but
is in the pink of condition."

"And how old is she?" the questioner continued.

"She is ninety-one," said the Archdeacon proudly.

Most of us looked at him with wonder and respect--even a touch of awe.

"And still motoring!" I commented.

"She delights in motoring."

"Well," said the angry man, "you needn't be so conceited about it. You are
not the only person with an aged mother. I have a mother too."

We switched round to this new centre of surprise. It was more incredible
that this man should have a mother even than the Archdeacon. No one had
ever suspected him of anything so extreme, for he had a long white beard
and hobbled with a stick.

"And how old may your mother be?" the Archdeacon inquired.

"My mother is ninety-two."

"And is she well and hearty?"

"My mother," he replied, "is in rude health--or, as you would say, full of

The Archdeacon made a deprecatory movement, repudiating the metaphor.

"She not only motors," the layman pursued, "but she can walk. Can your
mother walk?"

"I am sorry to say," said the Archdeacon, "that my mother has to be helped
a good deal."

"Ha!" said the layman.

"But," the Archdeacon continued, "she has all her other faculties. Can your
mother still read?"

"My mother is a most accomplished and assiduous knitter," said the bearded

"No doubt, no doubt," the Archdeacon agreed; "but my question was, Can she
still read?"

"With glasses--yes," said the other.

"Ha!" exclaimed the Archdeacon, "I thought so. Now my dear mother can still
read the smallest print without glasses."

We murmured our approval.

"And more," the Archdeacon went on, "she can thread her own needle."

We approved again.

"That's all very well," said the other, "but sight is not everything. Can
your mother hear?"

"She can hear all that I say to her," replied the Archdeacon.

"Ah! but you probably raise your voice, and she is accustomed to it. Could
she hear a stranger? Could she hear me?"

Remembering the tone of some of his after-lunch conversations I suggested
that perhaps it would be well if on occasions she could not. He glowered
down such frivolousness and proceeded with his cross-examination. "Are you
trying to assure us that your mother is not in the least bit deaf?"

"Well," the Archdeacon conceded, "I could not go so far as to say that her
hearing is still perfect."

The layman smiled his satisfaction. "In other words," he said, "she uses a

The Archdeacon was silent.

"She uses a trumpet, Sir? Admit it."

"Now and then," said the Archdeacon, "my dear mother has recourse to that

"I knew it!" exclaimed the other. "My mother can hear every word. She goes
to the theatre too. Now your mother would have to go to the cinema if she
wished to be entertained."

"My mother," said the Archdeacon, "would not be interested in the cinema"
(he pronounced it ki-neema); "her mind is of a more serious turn."

"My mother is young enough to be interested in anything," said the other.
"And there is not one of her thirty-eight grandchildren of whose progress
she is not kept closely informed."

He leaned back with a gesture of triumph.

"How many grandchildren did you say?" the Archdeacon inquired. "I didn't
quite catch."

"Thirty-eight," the other man replied.

Across the cleric's ascetic features a happy smile slowly and conqueringly
spread. "My mother," he said, "has fifty-two grandchildren. And now," he
turned to me, "which of us would you say has won this entertaining

"I should not like to decide," I said. "I am--fortunately perhaps for your
mothers--no Solomon. My verdict is that both of you are wonderfully lucky


       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Valetudinarian._ "I'VE GOT CIRRHOSIS OF THE LIVER, AN

_Sympathetic Friend._ "WELL, AND HOW ARE YOU?"]

       *       *       *       *       *


    "Grey African Parrot ... every question fully answered; £10 or offers."
    --_Weekly Paper._

       *       *       *       *       *


(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)

We have had to wait four years for the concluding volumes of _The Life of
Benjamin Disraeli_ (MURRAY), but, as the engaged couple said of the tunnel,
"it was worth it," for in the interval Mr. BUCKLE has been able to enrich
his work with a wealth of new material. This includes DISRAELI'S
correspondence with QUEEN VICTORIA during his two Premierships, and the
still more remarkable letters that he wrote to the two favoured sisters,
ANNE, Lady CHESTERFIELD, and SELINA, Lady BRADFORD, during the last eight
years of his life. To one or other of them he wrote almost every day, and
from the sixteen hundred letters that have been preserved Mr. BUCKLE has
selected with happy discretion a multitude of passages which throw a vivid
light upon the political events of the time and upon DISRAELI'S own
character. Whereas the first four volumes of the biography might be likened
to a good sound Burgundy, thanks to these letters the last two sparkle and
stimulate like a vintage champagne. As we read them we seem to be present
at the scenes described, to overhear the discussions at the Cabinet, to
catch a glimpse of the actors _en déshabillé_. Mr. BUCKLE says that
"Disraeli, from first to last, regarded his life as a brightly tinted
romance, with himself as hero." In one of his letters to Lady BRADFORD he
says, "I live for Power and the Affections." A poseur, no doubt, he was,
but not a charlatan. His industry was amazing and his insight almost
uncanny. "I know not why Japan should not become the Sardinia of the
Mongolian East," he writes in 1875. To the political student these Volumes
will be almost as fruitful a field as BURKE; for myself, I have found them
more fascinating than any novel.

       *       *       *       *       *

It seams a great pity that Mr. KIPLING'S _Letters of Travel_ (MACMILLAN)
contains nothing later than 1913. It would have been particularly
interesting to see how far the events of the great tragedy might have
modified or aggravated his scorn against those who do not see eye to eye
with him. In the pre-war KIPLING, as we have him here, "Labour" is always
the enemy, "Democracy" the hypocritical cant of cranks and slackers. What
do they know of England who only KIPLING know? Well, they know one side of
it, and a fine side. The first sheaf of letters--"From Tideway to Tideway
(1892)"--describes a tour through America and Canada, with a rather too
obvious bias against the habits and institutions of the former, but with so
eloquent a presentation of the dream and fact of imperial pioneering
service that it might draw even from a Little Englander, "Almost thou
persuadest me!" "Letters to the Family" deals with the Canada of 1907, a
very different entity from the Canada of to-day after the later Imperial
Conferences and five years' trial of war, but none the less interesting to
hear about. A voyage in 1913, undertaken "for no other reason but to
discover the sun," is the begetter of the third group, "Egypt and the
Egyptians," the first letter of which will not, I imagine, be reprinted and
framed by the P. and O. Brilliant word-pictures of things seen, thumbnail
sketches of odd characters, clever records of remembered speech,
intelligent comment from a well-defined point of view--these you will have
expected, and will get.

       *       *       *       *       *

Lady DOROTHY MILLS, who has already made some success as a holder of the
mirror up to a certain section of ultra-smart society, continues this
benevolent work in her new novel, _The Laughter of Fools_ (DUCKWORTH). It
is a clever tale, almost horridly well told, about the war-time behaviour
of the rottenest idle-rich element, in the disorganised and hectic London
of 1917-18. Perhaps the observation is superficial; but, just so far as it
pretends to go, Lady DOROTHY'S method does undoubtedly get home. Her
heroine, _Louise_, is a detestable little egoist, whose vanity and entire
lack of _moral_ render her an easy victim to the vampire crowd into which
she drifts. The "sensation" scenes, night club orgies, dope parties and the
like will probably bring the book a boom of curiosity; but there are not
wanting signs, in the author's easy unforced method, that with a larger
theme she may one day write a considerably bigger book. _The Laughter of
Fools_, one may say, ends tragically; _Louise_, after exhausting all her
other activities, being left about to join a nursing expedition to Northern
Russia. Which, judging by previous revelations of her general incompetence,
is where the tragedy comes in--for the prospective patients. A moral rather
carefully unmoralised is how I should sum up an unpleasant but shrewdly
written tale.

       *       *       *       *       *

To _The Diary of a U-Boat Commander_ (HUTCHINSON) "ETIENNE" adds an
introduction and some explanatory notes. In one of these notes we are told
that the Diary was left in a locker when the Commander handed over his boat
to the British. We are all at liberty to form any opinion we like on the
use made of this Diary and I am not going to reveal mine. For, after all,
it is the book itself--however produced--that matters, and even those of us
who are getting a little shy of literature connected with the War will find
something original and intriguing in this Diary. With what seems to me
unnecessary frankness the publisher refers to the Commander's "incredible
exploits and adventures on the high seas." For my own part my powers of
belief in regard to the War are almost unlimited, and the only thing that
really staggers me here is the mentality of the diarist. From the record of
his purely private life, which is also exposed in these pages, I gather
that he was as unfortunate in love as in war; but he seems to have loved
with a whole-hearted passion that goes far to redeem him. I must add a word
of praise for Mr. FRANK MASON'S illustrations, which contributed generously
to my entertainment.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: _Alexander_ (_bored_). "LIFE IS VERY DULL, MY DEAR ROX. NO


       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: Epilogue]


Mr. Punch had kissed the lady's hand and she had smiled upon him very
graciously, for they were old friends.

"I have brought you a letter from myself," he said.

"Shall I read it while you wait?" said Madame la France.

"Please, no. I never read my contributors' compositions in their presence.
It is embarrassing to both sides. And I want you to take your time over
this one, and consider carefully whether it is suitable for publication in
your Press. I have enclosed a stamped and addressed envelope, to be
utilized in the event of your deciding to return my communication with
regrets. In any case I propose to publish it in my own paper, _The London

[_Here begins the letter_:--

"NEAREST AND DEAREST OF ALLIES.--You and I (I speak for my country, though
I have not been asked to do so) have gone through so much together that it
would be an infinite pity if any misunderstanding were suffered to cloud
our friendship for want of a little candour on my part. No _Entente_ can
retain its cordiality without mutual candour; and hitherto the reticence
has been all on our side.

"Not when your splendid courage and your noble sacrifices gave us a theme;
then we were always frankly loud in our admiration; but when we reflected
upon what I may venture to call your faults and failings. Whatever we may
have thought about them during all those terrible years, you will find in
our public statements no note of criticism and not a single word that did
not breathe a true loyalty. You too were generous in your praise of us when
we won battles; and at the end, with your own FOCH for witness, you were
quick to recognise what part we played in those great Autumn days that
brought the crowning victory. But it almost looks as if your memory of our
brotherhood in arms were beginning to fail; as if we, who were then hailed
as your 'glorious Ally,' were about to resume our old name--it has already
been revived in some quarters--of 'Perfide Albion.'

"Oh, I know that the best of France is loyal to us; that her true chivalry
understands. But what of your public that is all ear for the so-called
_Echo de Paris_, with its constant incitement to jealousy and suspicion of
England? What of your second-rate Press and its pin-pricking policy,
connived at, if not actually encouraged, by your Government?

"Of course I recognise that you never really liked the idea of all those
British soldiers making themselves at home in your country, though they did
it as nicely as it could be done, and made hosts of friends in the process.
I can believe that we should not have been too well pleased at having a
like number of French troops established between Dover and London. I don't
say we should have charged you rent for every yard of their trenches or
claimed heavy damages for any injury they might have done to our roads in
the course of defending the Metropolis from our common enemy. But we
certainly should not have been depressed when we found that they needn't
stay any longer. Still I hope we should have registered on the tablets of
our hearts a permanent record indicating that we appreciated their
friendliness in coming to our support.

"But I am told that the secret of the present attitude of our French
critics is that they cannot forgive us for having used the soil of France
in order to defend our own. Is this quite fair or even decent? Let me
refresh their memory of the motive that brought us into this War. The true
motive was not to be found in the duty imposed upon us by Germany's breach
of the Belgian Treaty, though that in itself furnished us with an
unanswerable reason. The true motive was our desire to help you. We had
nothing in those days to fear for ourselves. We knew that our Fleet was
strong enough to protect our own shores. We had not yet appreciated the
submarine menace; we did not recognise what your loss of the Channel ports
might mean for us. We entered the War because we could not look on and see
you overwhelmed.

"You complain, again, that, in contrast to yourselves, we have got all we
wanted out of the War. As a fact we wanted nothing; but let that pass. You
point to the destruction of the German Fleet as if it were a private gain
for us and us alone, and not the removal of a danger to the whole world.
And what of the German armies--now in process of reduction to a mere police
force? Did you derive no advantage from the overthrow of a system which was
always a greater menace to you than the German Fleet ever was to us? And,
though we did not pretend to be a military nation, had we not some little
share in that achievement?

"And what of your _revanche_? How do the German Colonies, which we have
freed and now hold in trust--how do these compare with your solid recovery
of Alsace-Lorraine? No, you have not come badly out of Armageddon.

"Oh, you have suffered, that we know; you have suffered even more than we,
who at least were spared the ravaging of our lands. And never for a moment
do we forget this. But you too must not forget that where the soil of
France suffered most there thickest lie our English dead, who fought for
England's freedom, yes, but for your freedom too. And it is we who stand by
you still, pledged to be once more at your side if the same peril ever come
again; though America, for whom nothing was once too good, should fail you
in your need.

"There, I have said what I wanted to say; what your best friends here have
been thinking this many a day. For your best friends are not, as you might
imagine, to be found in a certain section of our Press who for their own
political or private ends are prepared to encourage all your suspicions if
so they may injure the good name of our statesmen who meet you in council
for the common cause. Your best friends are the men who deplore those
suspicions; who beg you, as I do here, to get them swept away as being
unworthy of a great nation and a great alliance.

"For this end, Believe me, dear Madame, to be at your service as always,


_Here ends the letter._]

"And now, dear lady," said Mr. Punch, "let me say that, if there is
anything in this letter which seems--but only on the surface--to be
inconsistent with my profound devotion to your person, it is the first word
of the kind that I have put on paper since our friendship began. All
through the War and the hardly less trying times of Peace that have
followed it I have not once swerved from my loyalty to you. Accept, I beg
of you, the renewed assurance of my affection the most sincere, and, for
token, this latest of a series in which you will find many proofs of the
love I bear you--my



       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INDEX]


    Air-Craftiness, 471
    Another Reservation, 111
    Blameless Accomplice (The), 511
    Dark Horse (A), 431
    Exit the Ministering Angel, 371
    Forgotten Cause (The), 211
    Great Improviser (The), 451
    His First Patient, 491
    Homage from the Brave, 391
    Hope of the World (The), 271
    In a Cushy Cause, 331
    International Eurhythmics, 151
    Kindest Cut of All (The), 191
    Levy on Patriotism (A), 291
    Limit--and Beyond (The), 411
    Occasional Comrades, 251
    Reckoning (The), 351
    Restoring the Balance, 311
    Return of the ex-Champion (The), 171
    Rouge Gagne, 71
    Test of Sagacity (A), 131
    Unpopular Revival (An), 231
    Woman of Some Importance (A), 91

    Conscientious Burglar (The), 103
    Converted Spirit (A), 183
    Dachswolf (The), 243
    Direct Reaction, 463
    Disturber of the Peace (A), 323
    Downing Street Melodrama (A), 83
    Elusive Pest (The), 163
    Even-handed Justice, 51
    Expert Opinion, 363
    From Triumph to Triumph, 343
    Heir-Presumptive (The), 31
    His Own Business, 403
    Irremovables (The), 143
    Lovers' Quarrels, 303
    Midsummer Nightmare (A), 483
    More Haste--Less Meat, 443
    New Coalition (The), 123
    Paradise Lost Again?, 503
    Popular Reappearance (A), 63
    Reluctant Thruster (The), 383
    St. Patrick's Day Dream (A), 203
    Sounding the "All Clear", 11
    What's in a Name?, 223
    Withdrawal from Moscow (The), 283

    "Positively Last" Appearance (A), 3

    Another Turkish Concession, 23
    Envoys Extraordinary, 423
    "Oliver 'Asks' for More", 263
    "Wanted", 43


    Tragedy of an Author's Wife, 66

    Best of Things (The), 94

  BIRD, A.W.
    Bridge Notes, 304
    Conspiracy, 376
    Domestic Strategy, 130
    Poisson d'Avril, 274

    Egoist (The), 34
    Riding Lesson (The), 76

    Charivaria, weekly
    Guinea-pigs, 98
    To Jessie, 198
    To my Butter Ration, 70

    Our Invincible Navy, 24
    What of the Dumps?, 218
    With the Auxiliary Patrol, 62

    Cutchery Cats, 438
    Demobbed, 258
    Home Thoughts from Hind, 86
    Labuntur Anni, 286

    Exile (The), 96

    Flat to Let (A), 222

    Analgesia, 434
    Tale of the Tuneful Tub (The), 78
    To a Dentist, 409
    To the New Policeman, 449

    Spring Song (A), 250

    Coward (The), 144
    Indiarubber Bloke (The), 254
    Much the Better Half, 408
    My Début in _Punch_, 49
    On Approval, 444
    Peace with Honour, 288

    Anniversary (The), 186
    Cap that Fits (The), 433

    Fancy Bird (A), 174

    Small Farm (A), 395

    Questionable Alien (The), 13

    On the Western Front, 298

    Popular Cricket, 510

    Liar's Masterpiece (A), 382
    Rates of Exchange, 216

    All for Jane, 344
    Another Dog Dispute, 464
    Chippo's Scenario, 290
    Conflict of Emotions (A), 108
    Inter-Service Match (An), 228
    Limpet of War (A), 64
    Mardi Gras, 126
    Newspaper Scoop (A), 8
    Smuggler (The), 45
    Sporting Golf,  84
    Won on the Posts, 184

    Burial of Dundee (The), 53
    Error of Judgment at Epsom, 435

    Shakspeare the Traducer, 58

    Little Tales for Young Plumbers, 86
    Our Ballybun Lottery, 42
    Rise and Fall of an Amateur Examiner (The), 244

    King's Regulations, para. 1696, 362

    Dram. Bac., 236
    Witchcraft, 198

    Author-Managers (The), 366
    Shattered Romances, 128

    Two Nightmares, 106

  FAY, S.J.
    Authorship for All, 462, 486
    Billiards, 46
    Bunch of Poets (A), 6
    Dora at the Play, 186
    Golden Geese, 75
    Great Mutton Campaign (The), 218
    My Fire, 28
    Rings from Saturn, 104
    Seaside Issues, 248
    Suzanne's Banking Account, 168
    Taking of Timothy (The), 327
    Wolf and the Lamb (The), 142

    Figure-Heads, 386
    Packet Rat (The), 266
    Pictures, 110
    So Long, 44
    Tow-rope Girls (The), 350
    Witches, 156
    Words of Wisdom, 10

    Fairy Ball (The), 389
    Devil in Devon (The), 418
    Sometimes, 476
    Visit (The), 300

    Communism at Cambridge, 390

    Cornish Cottage (A), 466
    Cornish Lullaby (A), 509
    Fixes the Hare, 88
    George and the Cow-Dragon, 164
    Insomniac (The), 124
    Jumble Sale (The), 68
    Letter to the Back-Blocks (A), 16
    Madding Crowd (The), 305
    Maiden's Bower Rocks, Scilly, 486
    Painful Subject (A), 26
    Western Light-houses, 456

    More Championships, 77

    Bird Calls, 317, 356, 396

    Loquacious Instinct (The), 448

    Animal Helps, 15
    Books and Backs, 78
    Bridging the Literary Gulf, 396
    Bubble and Squeak, 215
    Candour of Keynes (The), 33
    Easter in Wild Wales, 278
    "First Hundred" of Loeb (The), 7
    Freud and Jung, 193
    From the Dance World, 310
    From the Film World, 510
    Future of Apsley House (The), 475
    How to Pacify Ireland, 458
    Magnanimous Mottoes, 418
    Methodic Madness, 436
    Modern Moon-rakers, 58
    Musical Amenities, 96
    Musical Notes, 496
    New Courtiership (The), 514
    New Isle of the Blest (A), 154
    Paradise of Bards (The), 478
    Reds and Dark Blues, 246
    Revolt of the Super-Georgians, 118
    Screen _v._ Stage, 256
    Storm in a Tea-Shop (A), 129
    Tall Talk, 322
    Wanderer in Norfolk (The), 296
    Wizards: Klingsor and Another, 166

    Best Picture in the Academy, 402

    Tartar Princess (The), 406

    About Bathrooms, 244
    Art of Poetry (The), 426, 446, 482
    Boat-Race Again (The), 208
    Dog's Life (A), 508
    Genius of Mr. Bradshaw (The), 226
    Little Bits of London, 284, 334, 468
    Making of a Crisis (The), 388
    Manual Play, 366
    Tools of Trade, 264

    Getting Fixed, 488
    Practice of the Crews (The), 226

    Another Post-office Hold-up, 476
    Big-Game Cure (The), 113
    Hope for Posterity, 96
    Safety Play, 324
    Second Time of Asking (The), 210
    This for Remembrance, 294
    To a Coming Champion, 370
    To James (Mule) who has Played me False, 166
    Tube Cure (The), 6

    Day by Day in the World Of Crime, 149

    Personal Element at a Motor Show (The), 242
    Yeoman Transformed (The), 218

    Hints on Advertising, 338

    Palace and the Cottage (The), 378

    Connoisseur (The), 338
    One Sportsman to Another, 406

    Charivaria, weekly
    Etiquette for Fires, 266
    How to act in Emergencies, 113
    Passing of the Litter (The), 55

    Actress (The), 258
    Another Crisis, 38
    By the Stream, 298
    Film Notes, 158
    New Appeal (The), 122

    Le Monde où l'on travaille, 342

  KIDD, A.
    More Intensive Production, 115
    Our Day of Unrest, 30

    Elizabeth and her Young Man, 348
    Elizabeth's Tip for the Derby, 428
    My Sales Day, 30
    Party Tactics, 268

  KNOX, E.V.
    Amalgamated Society of Passengers (The), 134
    Book of Adventure (The), 46
    Brain Wave (The), 456
    Capua, 470
    Coalition of 1950 (The), 189
    Dead Tree (The), 150
    Der Tag Once More, 366
    Domestic Problem (The), 22
    Fair Wear and Tear, 202
    Fame, 178
    Hampstead, 404
    Home-Sickness, 386
    Labour and Art, 93
    Labour and the Russian Ballet, 286
    National Coal, 246
    New Modes for Mars, 485
    Note on Chesterfields (A), 504
    Note to Nature (A), 237
    Possession, 262
    Practical Zoology, 430
    Priscilla Dialogue (A), 466
    Raw Soul Stuff, 494
    Sorrows of a Super-Profiteer, 66
    Spring at Kew, 318
    Vanished Species (A), 326
    Vermin Offensive (A), 106
    When the Chestnut Flowers, 346

    Cox and Box, 146
    Last of the Watch Dogs (The), 224
    Songs of the Home, 14, 78, 207

    Elfin Tube (The), 486

    Genius at Play, 365
    Incorrigible (The), 158
    Presence of Mind, 295

    Peter and Judy, 114
    Telephone Tactics, 306

    Essence of Parliament, weekly

    Battle of the Mothers (The), 514

    Buy Election (A), 195
    Great Divorce Question (The), 416
    How to gain a Journalistic Position, 2
    My One Admirer, 278

    Golf Notes, 188

    Identification of Hobbs (The), 302

    Auction in the Spacious Times, 162
    Importunity, 496

    Charivaria, weekly

    Single Hound (A), 134

    High-brows, Ltd., 355

    Jazzerwocky, 26

    Saturdays, 75

    Holiday Anticipations, 502
    Serene Batsman (The), 422

    Moo-Cow (The), 73
    On the Eating of Asparagus, 502
    Perfect Scullery (The), 416
    What-Not (The), 17

    Latest Party (The), 235

    At the Play, 18, 36, 116, 136, 156, 276, 316, 498
    Benefits of Peace (The), 42
    Clothes and the Poet, 142
    Fashions for Men, 22
    Healing Waters of Spa (The),  342
    Junker Interlude (A), 222
    Liberal Breach (The), 382
    May-Week, 462
    Men and Things of the Moment, 182
    Nature and Art, 2
    "New" World (The), 202
    Odysseus at the Derby, 422
    Of certain Brutuses who missed their Mark, 82
    On the Italian Riviera, 302
    Open Letter to France (An), 517
    Paisley to the Rescue of the Coalition, 162
    Selfless Party (A), 122
    Summer-time, 242
    Sweet Influences of Trade (The), 62
    Thoughts on the Budget, 322
    To a Bricklayer in Repose, 362
    To America, 102
    "University Intelligence", 442
    Virtue that begins away from Home (The), 402
    Wisdom up to date--12th Edition, 282

    Story with a Point (A), 122

    "Small Ads.", 102

    Vers très libre, 262

    For Remembrance, 450
    Sussex Gods, 346

    Water-Babies, 118

    Dead Sea Fruit, 154
    New Wells for Old, 1
    Perce Murgatroyd, Bricklayer, 455
    Trying Day in Mediæval Times, 322
    Word-Builders (The), 296

    Why the Sparrow lives in the Town, 38

    Country Night Piece (A), 326

    At the Play, 116, 136, 156, 176, 236, 276, 336, 398, 438

    Our "Dumb" Pets Bureau, 257

    Aural Tuition, 386
    Connoisseur's Appreciation (A), 442
    Essentials of Golf (The), 490
    Life, 56
    Labour-Saving, 506
    Persistence of the Military, 476
    Winter Sport in the Lower Alps, 204

    Meeting the Countess, 410

    Dedications, 506

    Hound-Foxes  206


  ARMOUR, G.D., 14, 39, 59, 79, 95, 117, 138, 159, 179, 199, 219, 238, 279,
      315, 375, 399, 445, 478, 494

  BAUMER, LEWIS, 7, 30, 50, 70, 87, 110, 150, 167, 197, 230, 267, 330, 447,

  BENNETT, FRED, 468, 481

  BIRD, W.,  8, 28, 48, 76, 88, 108, 128, 148, 168, 188, 208, 228, 248,
      268, 295, 316, 341, 361, 388, 480, 501

  BROCK, H.M.,  129, 244, 274, 298


  BUTCHER, A., 20

  CHENEY, LEO, 433

  COTTRELL, TOM, 214, 229, 256, 349, 419, 499, 509

  DIXON, G.S., 441

  DOWD, J.H., 29, 53, 216, 294, 297, 327, 368, 405, 421, 461, 508





  "FOUGASSE", 13, 21, 37, 57, 69, 97, 114, 130, 161, 201, 221, 288, 357,
      379, 417, 437, 477

  FRASER, PETER, 41, 93, 160, 225, 234, 320, 340, 358, 378, 428, 434

  GAMMON, REG., 209

  GHILCHIK, D.L., 141

  GRAVE, CHARLES, 41, 85, 115, 205, 265, 285, 345, 394, 408, 414, 425, 459,


  HASELDEN, W.K., 18, 36, 116, 136, 156, 276, 336, 398, 438, 498


  HOWELLS, W.A., 176, 241

  JENNIS, G., 77, 255, 319, 404, 515

  LLOYD, A.W., 133, 153, 154, 173, 174, 193, 213, 233, 253, 254, 273, 313,
      333, 334, 353, 354, 373, 393, 413, 453, 473, 493, 512, 513

  MILLS, A. WALLIS, 25, 49, 74, 94, 109, 125 147, 175, 185, 207, 239, 245,
      270, 287, 317, 325, 347, 387, 418, 429, 457, 465, 484, 504


  MORROW, GEORGE, 9, 40, 60, 80, 100, 120, 121, 155, 180, 181, 220, 240,
      260, 261, 300, 308, 338, 360, 377, 397, 400, 420, 430, 448, 474, 488,

  NORRIS, ARTHUR, 119, 500


  PEDDIE, 514

  PETT, NORMAN, 58, 381, 440

  PRANCE, BERTRAM, 33, 61, 165, 200, 299, 305, 321, 348, 359, 415, 460

  RAVEN-HILL, L., 19, 75, 135, 169, 215, 250, 261, 310, 374, 401, 454, 513,

  REYNOLDS, FRANK, 17, 34, 44, 67, 84, 104, 137, 144, 164, 184, 204, 237,
      247, 277, 284, 304, 324, 344, 364, 384, 407, 427, 450,  464, 497, 507

  SHEPARD, E.H.,  15, 47, 99, 127, 190, 227,  337, 389, 479, 487

  SHEPPERSON, C.A.  27, 107, 187, 307, 367, 467

  SMITH, A.T.  101, 149

  SPEED, LANCELOT, 301, 455

  STAMPA, G.L.,  5, 54, 89, 105, 124, 177, 196, 217, 235, 257, 269, 289,
      314, 329, 355, 369, 395, 439, 458, 469, 489, 510

  TERRY, STAN., 98

  THOMAS, BERT, 4, 35, 45, 65, 145, 195, 293, 328, 339, 354, 365, 385, 410,
      424, 449

  TOWNSEND, F.H.  10, 55, 73, 90, 113, 139, 170, 189, 210, 224, 249, 275,
      290, 309, 335, 350, 370, 390, 409, 435, 444, 470, 495, 505

  WARDEN, A.H., 81


[Illustration: FINIS]

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