Book: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, Jan. 8, 1919
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, Jan. 8, 1919
I had not.
"Well, I have," Albert Edward went on. "They're wonders; pretend
they're in mid-ocean all the time, stuck in the mud on the Beaucourt
Ridge, gummed in the clay at Souchez--anywhere. They 'come aboard'
a trench and call their records-office--a staid and solid bourgeois
dwelling in Havre--_H.M.S. Victory_. If you were bleeding to death and
asked for the First Aid Post they wouldn't understand you; you've got
to say 'Sick bay' or bleed on. If you want a meal you've got to call
the cook-house 'The galley,' or starve.
"This _matelot_ Blenkinsop has got it very badly. He obtained all his
sea experience at the Crystal Palace and has been mud-pounding up and
down France for three years, and yet here we have him now pretending
there's no such thing as dry land."
"Not an unnatural delusion," I remarked.
"Well," resumed Albert Edward, "across the table from him sits our old
MacTavish, lisping, 'What is the Atlantic? Is it a herb?' I'll bet my
soul they're in their billets at this moment, MacTavish mugging up
some stable-patter out of NAT GOULD, and Blenkinsop imbibing a dose
of ship-chatter from 'BARTIMEUS.' They'll come in for food presently,
MacTavish doing what he imagines to be a 'cavalry-roll,' tally-hoing
at the top of his voice, and Blenkinsop weaving his walk like the
tough old sea-dog he isn't, ship a-hoying and avasting for dear life."
"They're both going on leave with you to-morrow, aren't they?" I
asked.
Albert Edward nodded.
"Then their game is up," said I.
Albert Edward's brow crinkled. "I don't quite get you."
"My dear old fool," said I, "it's blowing great guns now. With the
leave-packet doing the unbusted broncho act for two hours on end it
shouldn't be very difficult to separate the sheep from the goat, the
true-blue sailor from the pea-green lubber, should it? They may be
able to bluff each other, but not the silvery Channel in mid-winter."
Albert Edward slapped his knee and laughed aloud.
* * * * *
They all came back from England last night. I lost no time in
cornering Albert Edward.
"Well, everything worked just as I prophesied, didn't it?" said I.
"With the first buck the old boat gave Blenkinsop tottered to the
rail and--"
Albert Edward shook his head.
"No, he didn't. He ate a pound of morphia and lay in the Saloon
throughout sleeping like a little child."
"But MacTavish?" I stammered.
"Oh, MacTavish," said Albert Edward--"MacTavish took an emetic."
PATLANDER.
* * * * *
[Illustration: RECONSTRUCTION SHOCKS.
_Pianist (accompanying celebrated prima donna at classical concert
after three years of sing-songs in Army huts)_. "NOW THEN, BOYS! DROWN
HER WELL IN THE CHORUS!"]
* * * * *
COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.
"The post-war ---- will be the one car from which the owner with
moderate ideas can obtain the minimum amount of genuine pleasure
and satisfaction."--_Advt. in Trade Paper_.
* * * * *
From an account of a film-drama:--
"Horrified at his pseudanimity she agrees to the
deception,"--_Provincial Paper_.
It sounds rather pusillonymous.
* * * * *
MUSICAL GOSSIP.
We are semi-officially informed on the best authority that the
undermentioned nominations--some of which have already been
accepted--to the thrones and chairs now vacant in various parts of
the world have been made and approved by the Allied Governments.
Foremost among these is the nomination "by acclamation" of RICHARD
STRAUSS as King of the Cannibal Islands. It is understood that the
illustrious composer has already arrived and that a grand congress
of Anthropophagi with suitable festivities is in contemplation.
Two nominations which have been the cause of great satisfaction in
diplomatic circle are those of Mr. MARK HAMBOURG to the Kingdom of
Palestine, and that of M. MOISEIWITCH to the throne of the Solomon
Islands. Jamborees of jubilation are already rife in the latter
locality.
Sir HENRY WOOD has been simultaneously approached from two quarters.
The leading citizens of Sonora have offered him the Presidentship of
that interesting State. At the same time an urgent invitation has been
sent to the eminent conductor offering him the throne of the Empire of
Percussia. Sir HENRY'S decision is awaitod with feverish anxiety.
It is stated by the _Corriere della Sera_ that Madame MELBA,
the Australian nightingale, has been chosen to preside over the
Jug-jugo-Slav Republic, while Madame CLARA BUTT has been unanimously
elected Empress of Patagonia.
Sir THOMAS BEECHAM'S selection from among the candidates for the
throne of New Guinea, is regarded as a foregone conclusion. The famous
violinist, Mr. ALBERT SAMMONS, has so far returned no final answer
to the offer of the Crown of Sordinia, but it is believed that he
cannot long remain mute to the touching appeal of the signatories. A
favourable answer is also expected from Mlle. Jelly Aranyi, who has
been nominated Queen of Guava.
On the other hand Sir EDWARD ELGAR, O.M., has steadfastly declined the
Tsardom of Bulgaria, even though it was proposed to change the name of
the country to Elgaria.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Milliner_. "HOW DOES MODOM LIKE THIS LITTLE BIRD OF
PARADISE MODEL? IT BECOMES MODOM VERY WELL."
_Customer_. "YES, IT _IS_ RATHER NICE, BUT _(remembers her obligations
as a mother)_ HOW MANY COUPONS?"]
* * * * *
TO AN EGYPTIAN BOY.
Child of the gorgeous East, whose ardent suns
Have kissed thy velvet skin to deeper lustre
And given thine almond eyes
A look more calm and wise
Than any we pale Westerners can muster,
Alas! my mean intelligence affords
No clue to grasp the meaning of the words
Which vehemently from thy larynx leap.
How is it that the liquid language runs?
"_Nai_--_soring_--_trif_--_erwonbi_--_aster_--_ferish_--_ip_."
E'en so, methinks, did CLEOPATRA WOO
Her vanquished victor, couched on scented roses,
And PHARAOH from his throne
With more imperious tone
Addressed in some such terms rebellious MOSES;
And esoteric priests in Theban shrines,
Their ritual conned from hieroglyphic signs,
Thus muttered incantations dark and deep
To Isis and Osiris, Thoth and Shu:
"_Nai_--_soring_--_trif_--_erwonbi_--_aster_--_ferish_--_ip_."
In all my youthful studies why was this
Left out? What tutor shall I blame my folly on?
From Sekhet-Hetepu
Return to mortal view,
O shade of BRUGSCH or MARIETTE or CHAMPOLLION;
Expound the message latent in his speech
Or send a clearer medium, I beseech;
For lo! I listen till I almost weep
For anguish at the priceless gems I miss:
"_Nai_--_soring_--_trif_--_erwonbi_--_aster_--_ferish_--_ip_."
To sundry greenish orbs arranged on trays--
Unripe, unluscious fruit--he draws attention.
My mind, till now so dark,
Receives a sudden spark
That glows and flames to perfect comprehension;
And I, whom no Rosetta Stone assists,
Become the peer of Egyptologists,
From whom exotic tongues no secrets keep;
For this is what the alien blighter says:
"Nice orang'; three for one piastre; very cheap."
* * * * *
"Napoleon was crowned Emperor of the French on December 2nd, 1804,
and abdicated in 1914. On December 2nd, 1918, the papers announced
the formal abdication of Wilhelm II. of Germany."--_Kent
Messenger_.
WILHELM probably wishes that he had chosen the same date for his
abdication as NAPOLEON.
* * * * *
When a dear little lady from Lancashire
Came to London to act as a bank cashier,
And asked, "Is it true
1 + 1 = 2?"
They thought they'd revert to a man cashier.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BABES IN THE WOOD.
THE OLD LIBERAL NURSERY (_moribund but sanguine_). "NO MATTER--A
TIME WILL COME!"]
* * * * *
PARLIAMENTARY CASUALTIES.
Dear Mr. Punch,--I am told that Mr. ASQUITH considers that this
has been a most unsatisfactory election. So do I. As you know, the
principal function of the House of Commons nowadays is to provide
amusing "copy" for the late editions of the evening papers and to give
the "sketch"-writers a chance of exercising their pretty wits. As Mr.
SPENCER LEIGH HUGHES once remarked in an after-dinner speech to Mr.
BALFOUR, "You, Sir, are our raw material."
Now, what I complain of is that on the present occasion the voters
have entirely disregarded the needs of the journeymen of the Press,
and have ruthlessly deprived them of the greater part of their raw
material. Mr. HUGHES himself, I am glad to see, has been spared, but
he fortunately had not to undergo the hazards of a contest. I tremble
to think what his fate might have been if at the last moment some
stodgy statesman had been nominated to oppose him.
Against humour, conscious or unconscious, the voters seem to have
solidly set their faces. It was bad enough that Mr. JOE KING--who has
probably helped to provide more deserving journalists with a living
than any other legislator who ever lived--should have declined the
contest. Question-time without Mr. KING and his unerring nose for
mare's-nests will be like _Alice_ without _The Mad Hatter_. It was
bad, too, that Sir HEDWORTH MEUX should have decided to interrupt the
flow of that eloquence which we were forbidden to call "breezy," and
that Major "Boadicea" HUNT, Mr. JOHN BURNS, Mr. TIM HEALY, and Mr.
SWIFT MACNEILL should have withdrawn from a scene in which they had
provided so much profitable entertainment for the gods in the Press
Gallery.
These losses made it all the more incumbent upon the electors to see
that the House should retain as much as possible of the remnant of its
comic relief. But what do we find? Why, that practically every one of
the gentlemen who made the journalist's life worth living in the last
Parliament has been cruelly turned down.
For much of this grief the Sinn Feiners are responsible. They
have easily accomplished what a few years ago six stalwart British
constables could scarcely do and have removed the gigantic Mr. FLAVIN
from his emerald bench. With him have gone nearly all his comrades;
and the once-powerful Nationalist party, which for nearly forty years
has been such an unfailing source of sparkling paragraphs, is reduced
to the number immortalised by WORDSWORTH'S little maid.
Almost more distressing than the loss of individuals is the breaking
up of Parliamentary partnerships. What is the use of Mr. HOUSTON being
returned if he has no longer Sir LEO CHIOZZA MONEY to heckle? Captain
PRETYMAN-NEWMAN will doubtless continue to ask questions about the
shocking condition of his native country, but without Mr. REDDY'S
squeaking _obbligato_, "Why isn't the honourable and gallant Member
out at the Front?" they will lose half their savour. He will be as
dull as Io without her gad-fly. Mr. "Boanerges" STANTON is happily
still with us, but with no pacifists to bellow at I fear that his
vocal chords will atrophy.
Then the famous Young Scots Trio, which has given us so many
attractive "turns," has been violently dissolved. Mr. PRINGLE, whose
ample supply of vitriolic invective was always at the service of the
PRIME MINISTER, has been left by an ungrateful constituency at the
bottom of the poll, and Mr. WATT has shared his fate. It is true
that Mr. HOGGE managed to save his bacon, but without the support of
_Harlequin_ and _Pantaloon_ I fear his clowning will fail to draw.
With so many of the old puppets gone I feel very lonely, and can
only try to comfort myself with the hope that the new Parliament may
provide some adequate substitutes. After all, so vast a machine must
contain a few cranks.
Meantime I remain, Sir, with the highest respect,
YOUR PARLIAMENTARY CORRESPONDENT.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Boarder (firmly)_. "YOU MUST ALLOW ME ANOTHER KNOB OF
COAL, MISS SKIMPLE. MY NERVES WILL NO LONGER BEAR THE NOISE OF THESE
SNEEZING CRICKETS."]
* * * * *
THE BOOM IN ARCHITECTURE.
Since that far-away period before the War, my architectural nerve
has become sadly debilitated; so when a card (bearing the name of
Carruthers) was brought to me the other morning I felt quite unmanned.
"Some potential client," I observed inwardly, "who has heard of the
removal of the five-hundred pound limit and has bearded me before I
have had time to get the hang of T-square and compasses again."
I liked the appearance of Mr. Carruthers, and his greeting had a
slight ring of flattery in it that was very soothing.
"You are Mr. Bellamy, the architect?" he said.
"I am," I replied; "at least I was before the War."
"And have a large practice?" he resumed.
"I certainly had a large practice formerly," I said. "With my methods
and experience one ought to acquire an extensive _clientele_. I have
been an architect, my dear sir, man and boy for over forty years,
and have always followed the architectural fashions. In the late
seventies, when little columns of Aberdeen granite were the rage--you
know the stuff, tastes like marble and looks like brawn--I went in for
them hot and strong, and every building I touched turned to potted
meat. Then SHAW came along--BERNARD, was it? no, NORMAN--with his red
brick and gables, and I got so keen that I moved to Bedford Park to
catch the full flavour of it.
"Next, the Ingle-nooker's found in me a willing disciple. I designed
rows of houses, all roofs and no chimneys, or all chimneys and no
roofs, it didn't matter which so long as there was an ingle-nook with
a motto over it. Why, after a time I got so expert that I simply
designed an ingle-nook and the rest seemed to grow by itself.
"Just as the War started I had broken out in another place and was
getting into my Italian loggia-pergola-and-sunk-garden stride, and
then came the five-hundred pound limit and busted the whole show. In
fact, when you called I was wondering whether to chuck the business
and go in for writing cinema plays."
"When I want a really fashionable house built for me," said
Carruthers, "I shall certainly come to you."
"Ah," I said, "you have come to see me then on behalf of a friend?"
"On behalf," he said, "of several friends."
My chest swelled visibly. "This man," I said to myself, while reaching
for my Corona Coronas, "is planning a garden city, or at least a group
of houses on the communal plan."
"The fact is," said Carruthers, clearing his throat, "I am a
scout-master, and my troop are collecting wastepaper, and I expect
you have any amount of old plans and things that you--"
I was just in time to save the cigar.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "I HEAR YOUR HUSBAND IS HOME FROM FRANCE. IS THE ARMY
GOING TO RELEASE HIM?"
"WELL, 'E'S GOT A FORTNIGHT BEFORE HE GOES BACK, BUT BY THAT TIME 'E
'OPES TO BE DEMORALISED."]
* * * * *
FRUITS OF VICTORY.
["Unlimited lard may now be purchased without coupon."--_Daily
Paper_.]
Swiftly the shadow of William the Hun
Fades from the fields that our valour has won;
Totter the thrones of our many Controllers,
Freedom is coming to man and his molars:
Doomed is the coupon and doomed is the card,
With all the embargos that hit us so hard;
Now we may purchase unlimited lard.
Soon will the mud-spattered soldier be free;
Soon will the sailor be home from the sea:
Victory beams on the banners of Right,
This is the time to be merry and bright;
Stilled is the riot of shot and of shard
And (what a boon to the heart of the bard!)
Now we may purchase unlimited lard.
Shout for the joy of it, waving your hats;
Where there are puttees will shortly be spats;
Never again will we form on the right,
Squad or platoon, for a sergeant's delight;
So let our faces, by discipline marred,
Shine with an unction that savours of nard,
Now we may purchase unlimited lard.
* * * * *
BIG BERTHA OUTRANGED.
"Two Russian battleships and some cruisers set out from Cronstadt
to meet the British warships in the Baltic, and were fired on from
the Flemish coast."--_Yorkshire Paper_.
* * * * *
"After four incessant years across Dora's knee the peace New
Year ought surely to hold something good in its kindly lap for
well-strafed automobilists."--_Sketch_.
But after four years across Dora's knee the New Year is probably not
thinking about its lap, but quite the reverse.
* * * * *
"The announcement of a ball in Brussels gave plenty of scope for
imaginative scribes to quote, in some cases almost correctly,
the lines about 'there was a scene of revelry by night.'"--"_Mr.
Gossip_" in "_The Daily Sketch_."
"MR. GOSSIP," too, quotes "almost correctly."
* * * * *
It is hoped that if M. PADEREWSKI becomes President of the new Polish
Republic he will experience the truth of the old proverb, _Chi va
piano va sano._
* * * * *
[Illustration: _British Officer (Army of occupation)_. "LOOK OUT, OLD
BEAN! WE'RE GETTING THE GLAD EYE."]
* * * * *
THE ARMY OF ENTERTAINMENT, LTD.
As a mere soldier threatened with unemployment owing to the sudden
outbreak of peace, I offer to any enterprising company-promoter an
idea which should provide him with an immense fortune and myself with
a congenial means of livelihood.
My suggestion is that, with the consent of Lord NORTHCLIFFE and the
Allies, a slice of the old Front should be kept up _in statu quo_, and
a representative assortment of troops retained to hold it on what was
our side, and to carry on the War as it was in the good old days of
'15, when we thought our life's work was bespoken and soldiers with
boy babies raised the question of making acting rank hereditary. No
enemy would be employed, experiment having proved that the existence
of an enemy detracts from the enjoyment of modern war.
The little army, commanded by a General, himself an employe of
the Army of Entertainment Co., Ltd., would conduct operations for
demonstration purposes. Visitors would be charged admission to the
Company's zone, and pay extra for any particular stunt show arranged
for their benefit.
It would be necessary to acquire a strip of country running right back
to the coast, if realism should be the aim of the directors, otherwise
it would be impossible, to show an A.M.L.O. in action, or some
interesting types of Headquarters, or laundry Colonels winning the
D.S.O.
I have in mind a highly entertaining General who might be willing to
accept the position of G.O.C. for the Company--one of those desperate
old gentlemen whose joy was to stalk about busy areas and strafe the
domestic and sanitary arrangements of batteries and battalions. He
is of picturesque appearance and would afford the best comic relief.
This General would be attended by the usual assistants, traditionally
housed, clothed and fed, but, the division being run as a commercial
venture, it would be a matter for consideration by the directors
whether these young gentlemen should receive a salary or pay a fee.
Some visitors might well be so delighted with soldiering, free from
the annoyance of enemy action, that they would wish to make a long
stay and experience all its variations, beginning perhaps with the
P.B.I, (or Pretty Busy Infantry) in a mud-hole in the front line, and
passing through all the stages of the normal military career till they
arrived at the Divisional Chateau. Should anyone desire to survey
life from the altitude of an R.T.O. (Railway Transport, not Really
Tantalising Officer, as supposed by some) it might be arranged for
him, in the interests of realism, to improvise information as to
trains for the benefit of other visitors.
Appropriate rations would be included, in the entrance money, while
there might be canteens for the sale of such extras as bootlaces and
penholders. Visitors would not be allowed to bring money into the
area, but would be given the usual books of cash withdrawal forms,
entitling them to obtain small sums from the field cashier--if they
could find him. As a field cashier of experience would be employed and
possibly act in collusion with the R.T.O., these sums of money might
be regarded as prizes, and would create a pleasant excitement without
amounting to any great expense for the Company.
Those willing to pay high prices would have arranged for them such
displays as "normal artillery activity," pukka strafes, S.O.S.
bombardments or barrages chaperoning infantry advances, while balloons
might be set on fire, dumps blown up, or leave cancelled at special
rates. There might also be an assortment of inexpensive and amusing
side-shows, such as a Second-in-command trying to check a monthly
return of dripping, or a conscientious gunner calculating the correct
corrector corrections.
Should an application be received from any person anxious to
experience war from the "Receipts" end he would be granted free entry
to the area on the far side of the line, protected grand-stands being
erected, from which, on suitable payment, spectators could study his
deportment. A short stay in the "enemy's area" during a strafe might
be recommended for politicians and arranged by their constituents.
Space forbids further detail. It remains only for a Company to be
formed--affiliated perhaps to the Bureau of Information--a detailed
prospectus issued and applications invited for posts under the Army
of Entertainment, Ltd.
I shall myself be willing to serve the Company in the capacity of a
Town Major on condition that a suitable town is provided.
* * * * *
[Illustration: FOREWARNED.
_Poor Old Woman (to youth, who has given her a gratuity and relieved
her of her load of wood)_. "I PRESUME, MY KIND YOUNG FRIEND, THAT YOU
ARE THE YOUNGEST OF THE THREE BROTHERS WHO ARE GOING OUT TO SEEK THEIR
FORTUNES?"
_Clever Youth_. "NO, I'M THE ELDEST. BUT I'VE BEEN READING THE
STORIES."]
* * * * *
WISE WORDS FOR BIRDS.
Dear Mr. Punch,--While lately turning over some old family papers I
came across a number of maxims in rhyme which seem to me to be worthy
of publication at a time devoted to good cheer. The form appears to be
the same as that expressed in the familiar couplets on the woodcock
and the partridge; but these variations on an old theme have at least
the merit of freshness and originality.
I begin in order of magnitude with the ostrich:--
"If an ostrich had but a woodcock's thigh
It would only be some three feet high.
If a woodcock had but an ostrich's jaw
It would have to be carved with a circular saw."
The foregoing lines clearly enforce the important lesson of
contentment with the existing order. This moral is perhaps less
implicit in the lines on the peacock:--
"If a peacock had but the nightingale's trill
It would make all prima donnas feel ill.
If the nightingale had but the peacock's tail
It would merit a headline in the _Mail_."
Contentment again is the keynote of the couplets on the owl:--
"If an owl would enter the nuthatch's nest
Its figure would have to be much compressed.
If the nuthatch had but the face of an owl
It would be a most unpopular fowl."
A slightly different formula is to be noted in the lines on the snipe,
but the spirit is substantially the same:--
"If a snipe were the size of a threepenny bit
It would be a great deal harder to hit.
But if it grew to the size of an emu
It wouldn't be better to eat than seamew."
Lastly I may quote the only couplet in which beasts as well as birds
are subjected to this searching analysis. I think you will admit that
it is the most sagacious and impressive of them all:--
"If a pig had wings and the legs of a stork
It would damage the quality of its pork,"
Thine, MCDOUGALL POTT.
_Poets' Corner House, Dottyville._
* * * * *
"As a result of trying to find an escape of gas with a light, a
flat in Westminster was seriously damaged."--_Provincial Paper_.
Serve him right.
* * * * *
REPORTS.
The other day I was looking through some school reports. Holidays
always bring them forth. You know the kind of thing: History--Is most
diligent but needs concentration; Music--Lacks purposefulness, does
not practise sufficiently; Mathematics--Weak; General Conduct--Might
be better; Conversational French--_Sera plus facile avec plus de
confiance_; Theology--A sad falling off; and so on; and it occurred to
me that it might not be a bad thing if the report system, instead of
stopping with our school-days, pursued us through life. The periodical
perusal of a report, drawn up with as much authority as a scholastic
staff possesses, might have very beneficial results.