Book: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, March 12, 1919
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 156.
MARCH 12, 1919.
CHARIVARIA.
The spread of influenza is said to be greatly assisted by
"germ-carriers." We can't think why germs should be carried. Let
'em walk.
***
According to _The Sunday Express_ a young American named Frisco states
that he invented the Jazz. There was also a murder confession in the
Press last week.
***
"Whitehall," says a Society organ, "has succumbed to the Jazz, the
Fox-trot and the Bunny-hug." It still shows a decided preference,
however, for the Barnacle-cling.
***
A man charged at the Guildhall with being drunk said he was suffering
from an attack of influenza and had taken some whisky. Yes, but where
from?
***
We understand that the heading, "Whisky for Influenza," which appeared
in a daily paper the other day, misled a great number of sufferers,
who at once wrote to say that they were prepared to make the exchange.
***
It is good to know that a perfectly noiseless motor car has been
produced. Even that nasty grating sound experienced by pedestrians
when being run over by a car is said to have been eliminated.
***
Shrove Tuesday passed almost unheeded. Even the pancake thrown to
the boys at Westminster School in the presence of the KING and QUEEN
appeared to fall flat.
***
We are glad to learn that the little Kensington boy who was tossed by
a huge pancake on Shrove Tuesday is stated to be going on nicely.
***
Five hundred and twenty-seven pounds of American bacon have been
declared unfit for food by the Marylebone magistrate. Why this
invidious distinction?
***
"A man," says Mr. Justice KUNKEL of Pennsylvania, "has full rights in
his own home against everyone but his wife." It is surmised that his
Honour never kept a cook.
***
We are informed that the dispute between the Ministry of Labour and
the Irish Clerical Workers' Union has been settled by the latter name
being changed to the "Irish Clerical Employees' Union."
***
Mr. LLOYD GEORGE is said to favour the creation of a new Order for
deserving Welshmen. The revival of the Order of the Golden Fleece
is suggested.
***
A writer in a ladies' journal refers to the present fashion of
"satin-walnut hair." We have felt for some time that mahogany had
had its day.
***
Charged at Hove with bigamy a soldier stated that he remembered
nothing about his second marriage and pleaded that he was
absent-minded. A very good plan is to tie a knot in your boot-lace
every time you get married.
***
A sorry blow has been dealt at those who maintain we are not a
commercial race. "You gave me prussic acid in mistake for quinine this
morning," a man told a chemist the other day. "Is that so?" said the
chemist; "then you owe me another twopence."
***
For the benefit of those about to emigrate we have pleasure in
furnishing the exclusive information that very shortly there will
be big openings in America for corkscrew-straighteners.
***
We are now able to state that the wedding of Princess PATRICIA and
Commander RAMSAY passed off without a hymeneal ode from the POET
LAUREATE.
***
We understand that a lady operator who was impudent to the District
Supervisor on the telephone the other day would have been severely
reprimanded but for her plea that she mistook him for a subscriber.
***
It is reported that the paper shortage is soon to be remedied. In
these days of expensive boots this should be good news to people who
travel to and from the City by Tube on foot.
***
We hear privately that one of our leading dailies has fixed April 14th
as the date on which its office "correspondent" will first hear the
note of the cuckoo in Epping Forest.
***
Several suspicious cases of sickness are reported among the aborigines
of New South Wales. It is not yet known whether they are due to
influenza or to the native custom of partaking heavily of snakepie on
the eve of Lent.
***
Nottingham will hold its six hundred and fifty-eighth annual Goose
Fair this year, and a local paper has made a distinct hit by stating
that it is "the oldest gathering of its kind except the House of
Commons."
***
President EBERT, according to the _Frankfort Gazette_, is to have a
Chief Master of Ceremonies. One of his first duties, in which he will
have the advice of prominent musicians, will be to fix an authorised
style of eating _Sauerkraut_ which shall be impressive yet devoid of
ostentation.
* * * * *
[Illustration: [Taxi-drivers who consent to pick up fares at a
certain London restaurant at night have supper given to them by the
management.]
_First Taxi_. "WHATEVER 'AVE YER GOT THEM TOGS ON FOR, ALBERT?"
_Second ditto_. "ALWAYS DRESS FOR SUPPER DOWN TOWN NOWADAYS, OLD
BEAN."]
* * * * *
"A woman's sphere was her own home, that she should earn her own
living was inimical to domestic happiness; it was almost contra
bonus morus, which is a very serious thing indeed."--_Scots
Paper_.
It certainly would be for Smith mi. if he said it in class.
* * * * *
"The speaker of the evening was Dr. Charles ----, a full-blooded
Sioux Indian, and the only full-blooded literary man among the
North American Indians."--_American Paper_.
We could spare some of our full-blooded, literary men if there is a
shortage in America.
* * * * *
MONUMENTS OF THE WAR.
Let those who fear lest Memory should mislay
Our triumphs gathered all across the map;
Lest other topics--like the weather, say,
Or jazzing--should supplant the recent scrap;
Or lest a future race whose careless lot
Lies in a League of Nations, lapped amid
Millennial balm, be unaware of what
(Largely for their sakes) we endured and did;--
Let such invite our architects to plan
Great monumental works in steel and stone,
Certain to catch the eye of any man
And make our victories generally known;
Let a new bridge at Charing Cross be built,
In Regent Street a deathless quadrant set,
And on them be inscribed in dazzling gilt:--
"IN CASE BY INADVERTENCE WE FORGET."
Or, eloquent in ruin unrestored,
Leave the Cloth Hall to be the pilgrim's quest,
Baring her ravaged beauty to record
The Culture of the Bosch when at his best;
At Albert, even where it bit the ground,
Low let the Image lie and tell its fate,
Poignant memento, like our own renowned
ALBERT Memorial (close to Prince's Gate).
For me, the tablets of my heart, I ween,
Sufficiently recall these fateful years;
I need no monument for keeping green
All that I suffered in the Volunteers;
Therefore I urge the Army Council, at
Its earliest leisure, please--next week would do--
To raze the hutments opposite my flat,
That still impinge on my riparian view.
O.S.
* * * * *
A PAIR OF MILITARY GLOVES.
It was in Italy, on my way home from Egypt to be demobilised, that I
decided to buy a pair of warm gloves from Ordnance.
After being directed by helpful other ranks to the A.S.C. Depot, the
Camp Commandant's Office and the Y.M.C.A., I found myself, at the end
of a morning's strenuous walking, confronted by notices on a closed
door stating that this was the Officers' Payment Issue Department;
that this was the Officers' Entrance to the Officers' Payment Issue
Department; that smoking was strictly prohibited; and that the office
would re-open at 14.00.
I went away to lunch.
At 14.01 I knocked out my pipe conscientiously and entered. From
14.01 to 14.50 I watched a Captain of the R.A.F. smoking cigarettes
and choosing a pair of socks, and studied notices to the effect that
this was the Officers' Payment Issue Department; that only Officers
were permitted to enter the Officers' Payment Issue Department; that
smoking was strictly prohibited; and that the office would close at
16.00.
At last I heard the B.A.F. man explain that, by James, he had an
appointment at three, and would return, old bean--er, Corporal--in
the morning to see about those dashed socks. The Corporal behind
the counter blew away a pile of cigarette ash and regarded me
distrustfully.
"Only one pair of gloves left, Sir," he said. "Gloves, woollen,
knitted, pairs one, one-and-tenpence."
"Thank you very much," I said. "They'll do nicely. I'll take them
now."
But of course I didn't. At 15.00 was in another building, watching
another Corporal make out an indent in quadruplicate for gloves,
woollen, knitted, officers, for the use of, pairs one. At 15.05 I was
in another building, getting the indent stamped and countersigned.
At 15.12 I was in another building, exchanging it for a buff form in
duplicate. At 15.20 I re-entered the Issue Department and went through
the motions of taking up the gloves.
"Excuse me, Sir," said the Corporal, skilfully sliding them away; "you
must first produce your Field Advance Book as a proof of identity."
"I'm afraid I haven't a proper Field Advance Book," I explained. "You
see, in Egypt, where I come from--that is, I was attached, you know,
to the--well, in short, I haven't a proper Field Advance Book, as I
said before. But I have here an A.B. 64 issued in lieu thereof--they
do that in Egypt, you know--and I have my identity discs, my
demobilisation papers, my cheque-book--oh, and heaps of other things
which would prove to you that I am really me. Besides, my name is sewn
inside the back of my tunic. _And_ my shirt," I added hopefully.
"If you haven't a Field Advance Book, Sir," said the Corporal coldly,
"your only course is to obtain a certificate of identity from the Camp
Commandant."
"But, look here, Corporal," I protested, "it would take me a
quarter-of-an-hour to get to the Commandant's office and another
quarter to get back. I'm sure I couldn't get a certificate of identity
under an hour and a-half. It is now twenty-five past three. You close
at four. To-morrow morning at five ac emma I entrain for Cherbourg....
You see how impossible it all is, Corporal."
"Sorry, Sir," said the Corporal. "I'm not allowed to issue the gloves
without your Field Advance Book or a certificate of identity."
"But what am I to do?" I asked weakly. "Think, Corporal, how cold it
will be across Italy and France without gloves. I've been in the East
for over four years, and I might get pneumonia and die, you know."
"I should try the Camp Commandant, Sir," he said. "It may not take so
long as you think."
* * * * *
At 15.41 I was outside the Camp Commandant's office with my A.B.64,
identity discs, demobilisation papers and cheque-book ready to hand,
and my tunic loosened at the neck.
At 15.42 I entered the office with some diffidence.
At 15.43 I was outside again, dazed and a little frightened, with a
certificate of identity in my hand. It was the fastest piece of work I
have ever known in the Army. And I might have been Mr. GEORGE ROBEY in
disguise for all they knew in the office--or cared.
* * * * *
"Sorry, Sir," said the Corporal in the Officers' Payment Issue
Department at 15.59, "the gloves were sold to another officer while
you were away."
ONE OF THE _PUNCH_ BRIGADE.
* * * * *
ON HALF RATIONS.
"Two officers will be received as paying guests. Comfortable
home. Treated as _one_ of the family."--_Daily Paper_.
The italics emphasize our own feeling with regard to this niggardly
arrangement.
* * * * *
"V.A.D.--Required for Shell-shock Hospital under B.R.C.S.,
Piano, Billiard Table and Gramophone. Will any hospital
closing down and having same for sale, kindly communicate
with Secretary."--_Times_.
We do not know what sort of work the V.A.D. is expected to do under
the piano and billiard table, but we presume that her consent would be
required, and that she would not be sold, so to speak, over her own
head.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE TURN OF THE TIDE.
JOHN BULL. "I DON'T SAY I'M QUITE COMFORTABLE YET, BUT I CERTAINLY DO
SEEM TO BE GETTING IT A LITTLE LESS IN THE NECK."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SCENE.--_AMATEUR THEATRICAL REHEARSAL_.
_Author_. "NOT SO MUCH 'GAGGING,' MY LAD. JUST SPEAK _MY_ LINES, AND
THEN WAIT FOR THE LAUGH."
_Tommy (on short leave)_. "WHAT! AND RISK C.B. FOR OVERSTAYING MY
LEAVE?"]
* * * * *
ON THE RHINE.
I.
"Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum, I am a bold and infamous Hun, I am, I am."
We are obliged to repeat this continually to ourselves in order to
present the stern and forbidding air which is supposed to mark our
dealings with the inhabitants. For, look you, we have usurped the
place of the Royal Jocks on the "right flank of the British Army," and
are on outpost duty, with our right resting on the bank of the Rhine,
while in front the notice-boards, "Limit of Cologne Bridgehead," stare
at us.
No longer are we the pleasant, easy-going, pay-through-the-nose people
that we were. No longer does our daily routine include the smile for
Mademoiselle, the chipping of Madame, or the half-penny for the little
ones. No, we steel ourselves steadily to the grim task entrusted to
us, and struggle to offer a perfect picture of stolid indifference to
anybody's welfare but our own. "Fee-fi-fo-fum."
What does Thomas think of it all? Well, to tell the truth, I haven't
caught him thinking very much about it. Gloating seems foreign to his
nature somehow, and I don't think he will ever make a really good
Hun. He is rather like a child who for four years has been crying
incessantly for the moon. Having got it, he says, "Well, I'm glad
I've got it; now let's get on with something else," and takes not the
slightest interest in the silly old moon he has acquired with so much
trouble.
There are two things to which he cannot quite accustom himself: not
being allowed to fraternize with the inhabitants and the realisation
that his laboriously acquired knowledge of the French language is no
longer of any avail. He will never quite get over the former of these
two disabilities, but he is coping courageously with the latter.
For instance, in place of the "No bon" of yesterday, "Nix goot" now
explains that "Your saucepan I borrowed has a hole in it; please, I
didn't do it." For the rest, change of environment makes very little
difference to him. Given a cooker, a water-cart and the necessary
rations, a British oasis will appear and be prepared to flourish in
any old desert you like.
No, I am wrong. There is another difficulty which as yet he has not
been able entirely to overcome. I cannot describe the consternation
which came over the Company when I informed them that there was no
longer any need to scrounge; in fact, I forbade it. At first they
thought it was just a Company Commander's humour and paid it the usual
compliments of the parade; but when they found I was serious they were
simply appalled. It was as if I had taken the very spice out of their
existence. Not to be able to go out and "win" a handful of fuel for
the evening's fug and for the brewing of those unwholesome messes in
the tin canteen? Bolshevism itself could not have propounded a more
revolutionary principle. Heartbroken some of the old soldiers came
to me afterwards. "What are we to do, Sir?" they said. "We only go
on guard four hours in sixteen; we must do something the rest of the
time." Sternly I bade them think of scrounging as a thing of the
past--a thing of glorious memory only to be spoken of round the fires
at home. If they wanted anything in the meantime to add to their
material comfort they were to come to me for it.
For let me tell you, all you demobilised wallahs who know only those
countries where the necessities of life were matters of private
enterprise--let me tell you that in this village, if I say that I
require coal, _coal is here_, and with it the Buergermeister inquiring
politely if my needs are satisfied. We must have beds? The spare beds
of the village are forthcoming. If we want baths for the men, our
Mr. Carfax, who speaks a language which the inhabitants pretend to
understand, goes round to the householders and explains the necessity.
Should there be any difficulty he explains further that it would be
_much_ better, don't they think, and _much_ more convenient if the
men visited the houses, rather than that baths should be carried to
some central place? It is invariably found to be preferable for all
concerned.
Bathing has now become a pleasure to all, except, perhaps, to
Nijinsky, our Pole from Commercial Road, East. On being presented
(for the first time, I gather) to a first-class bathroom with geyser
complete, he evinced signs of great uneasiness. In fact he seemed to
think that this was making a parade of a purely private matter. The
Sergeant-Major, being called in, exhorted him to "get in and give the
thing a trial," at which Nijinsky flung up his hands in characteristic
fashion and said, "Vell, it's somethink fur nothink, anyhow," and
they left him to it. The rest of the story is concerned with his
turning off the water in the geyser and leaving the gas on, of a loud
explosion and the figure of Nijinsky, fat and frightened, fleeing
through the main street dressed in an Army towel. Subsequently I heard
him expressing forcibly a fixed determination never, _never_ to be
persuaded against his will again.
Oh, yes, it is a wonderful thing to be a Hun. Every day we go about
telling one another what Huns we are and how we love our hunnishness.
And yet, you know, as a matter of fact, I don't believe all our
efforts amount to anything really; they wouldn't deceive a child--and
in fact they don't. For ever since we came here one can't help
noticing that the little tiny natives have acquired an extraordinarily
good imitation of Tommy's salute, and, though Subalterns and
Sergeant-Majors may go about gnashing their teeth and wearing
expressions of frightful ferocity, still the youngsters grin
fearlessly as they raise their tiny fingers. They know it isn't real.
They know a Hun when they see him all right; what child doesn't?
And I caught our Mr. Carfax picking one of them up from the gutter the
other day and soothing its tears with the baby-talk of all nations. I
told him he was fraternising abominably and was not being a true Hun.
"Well," he said, "you can't leave a child yelling in a puddle, can
you?"
And, damn it, you can't, so what's the use of trying to be hunnish?
L.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Restaurant Commissionaire (to departing client, who is
searching for a tip)_. "NOW THEN, SIR, HURRY UP; DON'T KEEP ME WAITING
HERE ALL NIGHT."]
* * * * *
RAPID PROMOTION.
From a Parliamentary report:--
"Colonel Seely mentioned ... Major-General Seely said ... General
Seely, replying ..."--_Daily Chronicle_.
* * * * *
"The canonical proceedings for the beatification of Pope Pius IX.
and Christopher Columbus have been definitely abandoned. As the
result of a very close investigation, it was decided that these
two candidates lacked certain necessary qualifications; Pius IX.
had signed death sentences and Christopher Columbus was held
responsible for massacres."--_Sunday Paper_.
This news, we understand, has caused a painful impression at
Amerongen.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Cook (allowing herself to be engaged)_. "ONE MORE
QUESTION, M'LADY. CAN _YOU_ COOK?"
_Her Ladyship_. "REALLY, I DON'T THINK THAT NEED MATTER."
_Cook_. "OH--DON'T IT? I WANT TO KNOW WHO'S GOING TO BE THE REAL
MISTRESS."]
* * * * *
THE GREAT COLD-CURE DEBATE.
In view of the prevalence of colds and the varying counsels given to
their patients by our leading so-called healers, a mass meeting of
doctors and public men was recently convened, with the hope that some
useful results might follow.
None did.
The Chairman in his opening remarks said that colds were at once
the commonest complaints to which human beings were subject and the
least understood by the faculty. It was scandalous that so little
serious attention should be paid to them by physicians. A scientific
investigator should be as proud of discovering a preventive for colds
as a scheme of wireless telegraphy. But it was not so. Researchers
were applauded for compounding new and more deadly explosives and
poisonous gas, while the whole mystery of colds remained unplumbed.
The situation was scandalous. (Loud sneezes.)
Letters were read, among others, from Lord NORTHCLIFFE, Mr. SNOWDEN
and Sir JOHN SIMON, all saying that from recent experience they could
affirm that an equable cold temperature was conducive to the avoidance
of catarrh. In short, an excellent means of escaping cold was to be
out in the cold.
A representative of the Board of Trade said that all that was
necessary to avoid colds was to keep fit and not approach infection.
Having offered this very practical advice the speaker gathered up his
papers and left the room.
Sir Septicus Jermyn, the famous physician, urged that the best
preventive for colds was to keep warm. One should wear plenty of thick
clothing and especially cover the neck and throat. A respirator was an
excellent thing. He even went so far as to recommend earflaps to his
patients, with beneficial results. A night-cap was also a great help.
Sir Eufus Hardy, the famous physician, protested that colds were for
the most part negligible. People took them much too seriously. The
best treatment was to be Spartan--wear the lightest clothes, abjure
mufflers, and, whenever you could find a draught, sit in it.
Mr. BERNARD SHAW said that all this cold-catching was nonsense. He
personally had never had a cold in his life. And why? Because he lived
healthily; he wore natural wool, retained his beard, ate no meat and
drank no wine. Lunatics who wore fancy tweeds, shaved, devoured their
fellow-creatures and imbibed poisonous acids were bound to catch cold.
Resuming his Jaeger halo, Mr. SHAW then left.
Sir Bluffon Gay, the famous physician, stated that in his experience
colds were necessary evils which often served useful ends in clearing
the system. For that reason he was against any treatment that served
to stop them. The "instantaneous cold cures" which were advertised so
freely filled him with suspicion. Colds should be unfettered.
Mr. Le Hay Fevre, K.C., representing the Ancient Order of
Haberdashers, said that he was in entire agreement with the last
speaker. Colds should be allowed to take their course. Nothing was
so bad as to check them.
Sir Romeo Path, the famous physician, asserted that colds were far
more serious things than people thought. As a matter of fact there
was no such thing as a cold pure and simple; colds were invariably
manifestations of other and deeper trouble. His own specific was a
long period of complete rest and careful but not meagre dieting,
followed by change of air, if necessary travel to the South of France.
(Loud coughs and cheers.)
Mr. Bolus, K.C., representing the Chemists and Druggists' Union, said
that it was felt very strongly that the seriousness of colds should
not be minimised, but that foreign travel was an error. No malady was
so much helped by the timely and constant employment of remedies at
home. He trusted that the remarks of the last speaker would speedily
be contradicted by a competent authority.
Sir Consul Tait, the famous physician, held that alcohol was the
greatest provocative of colds; aspirin was their greatest enemy.
Sir Tablloyd George, the famous physician, observed that a glass
of hot whisky and lemon-juice on going to bed was a sovran remedy.
Aspirin was to be avoided, but quinine had its uses.
Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT said that probably no one knew more about the way
that other people should behave than he did. He had written twelve
manuals on the subject and intended to write twenty-six more, by which
time he would have covered the whole field of human endeavour. Any one
who had read his book, _The Plain Man and his Wife and their Plainer
Children_, would remember that one chapter was devoted to the cause,
evasion and cure of colds. He would not at the moment say more than
that the work was procurable at all bookshops. He should like to
address the meeting at fuller length, but as he was suffering from a
very stubborn cold he must hurry back to bed.
Mr. H.G. WELLS remarked that he always found that the best corrective
for a cold was to write another novel of modern domestic life. He had
even heard of the perusal of some of his novels as a substitute for
coal.