Punch, July 18, 1917 by Various
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Various >> Punch, July 18, 1917
PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 153.
July 18, 1917.
CHARIVARIA.
It is reported that the Emperor of CHINA has joined the Boy Scoot
movement.
***
Some explanation of the KAISER'S anxiety for peace and the GERMAN
CHANCELLOR'S statement in the Reichstag has just come to hand. It
appears from _The Boston Christian Science Monitor_ that Mr. CHARLIE
CHAPLIN is about to join the Army on the side of the Allies.
***
A baker has been fined ten shillings for selling War bread which
was overweight, thereby unnecessarily endangering the lives of his
customers.
***
Cigars in Germany are now being made of cabbage or hay flavoured
with strawberry leaves. Another march is thus stolen on British
manufacturers, most of whom still cling obstinately to the
superstition that a slight flavour of tobacco is necessary.
***
"How pathetic it is to see six small farmers sending six small carts
with six small consignments along the same road to the same station
twice a day," said Lord SELBORNE at the Agricultural Organisation
Society. Almost as pathetic as seeing six fat middlemen making six
fat profits before the stuff reaches the consumer.
***
We fear that some of our Metropolitan magistrates are losing their
dash. At a police court last week a man who pretended to foretell
the future was fined two pounds, and the magistrate forgot to ask
the prisoner to prophesy how much he was going to be fined.
***
Adequate arrangements are being made, says Sir CECIL H. SMITH, to
protect the National Gallery from air-raids. The intention, it is
thought, is to disguise it as a moving picture palace.
***
A great impetus has been given to the teaching of singing since it has
been pointed out that at the Guildhall School of Music a woman went on
singing until the enemy aeroplanes were driven away from London.
***
Certain meatstuffs unfit for human consumption may now be used in the
manufacture of dog biscuits. The news has been received with much
satisfaction by several dogs, who have now promised to cut out postmen
from their menu.
***
When the Middlesex Sessions were about to commence, a bell warning
people of the air raid was sounded, and the Justices immediately
advised people to take shelter. No notice was taken of the suggestion
made by several prisoners who expressed the view that the safest place
was the street.
***
In view of the fact that the animals at the Zoological Gardens are on
war rations, the R.S.P.C.A. especially request very stout people not
to cause annoyance to the tigers by parading up and down in front of
their cages.
***
During the last air raid the windows of one house were blown outwards,
the plaster and ceiling fell, and doors were thrown off their hinges,
and yet the occupant--a woman--experienced surprise on hearing that
the house had been struck by a bomb. She was under the impression that
a new bus route had been opened.
***
"Candidates for the diplomatic service," says Lord ROBERT CECIL,
"will after the War be largely drawn from persons of talent." It is
not known who first thought of this, but it just shows what a pull
politicians have over ordinary people when it comes to thinking out
things.
***
At the St. Pancras Tribunal last week an applicant said his only
remaining partner had been ill in bed for some weeks, and the Chairman
of the Tribunal promptly remarked, "Obviously a sleeping partner."
This joke has been duly noted by a well-known revue manager, and as
soon as a cast has been engaged an entirely new and topical review
will be written round it.
***
The policy of air reprisals advocated by a section of the Press has
found much support. Indeed one prominent pacifist has even threatened
to put out his tongue at the next covey of enemy aeroplanes which
visits this country.
***
The raspberry crop in Scotland is to be taken over by Lord RHONDDA.
The rumour that it is to be used for Army jam has had a most
demoralising effect upon the market in imported tomatoes.
***
Mysteriously, in the night, a pile of shells representing thirteen
thousand eggs was deposited on a common outside Munich. This evidence
of at least one citizen's return to the pre-war breakfast has given
rise in some quarters to hopes of an early peace.
***
It must have been something more than carelessness that caused an
evening contemporary to announce in a recent edition: "Since the
commencement of the War three solicitors have become brigandiers."
***
It is reported that two Leicestershire farm labourers have brought up
twenty-nine children between them. It is hoped that the news will not
cause any allotment enthusiasts to abandon their holdings.
***
Another hotel has been commandeered by the National Service
Department. The task of preparing lists of men and women who would be
willing to perform National Service if they were not already engaged
in it is assuming colossal proportions.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Teuton writes_: "I am sad at heart, dear Gretchen.
Despite my weak sight they have for some reason drafted me into the
shock troops."]
* * * * *
A Chinese butcher's reply to a complaint of short weight:--
"Butcher said he had gave to your coolie with full weight and
expecting your coolie fall down some of them on the road."
* * * * *
LESSONS OF THE WAR.
II.
(_The Ophir Gold Pantomime Syndicate issues its Preliminary
Instructions for the Production of its Annual Pantomime._)
PRELIMINARY INSTRUCTIONS.
O.G.P.S. 42/B/26.
_November 20th_, 1919.
1. _General Outline_.
It is the intention of the Ophir Gold Pantomime Syndicate to attack
and capture the Public Favour on the night of the 26/27 December,
1919.
As foreshadowed in the preliminary Press Notices (which will be issued
later) the production will outstrip all previous productions both in
wit and splendour.
The Preliminary Bombardment will be carried out by Press Agents of all
calibres.
The General Scheme will be as laid down in the West-End Managers'
Standard Formation of Pantomimes.
Zero time will probably be at 7 P.M.
If the operation is successful it will be repeated daily until further
(fortnight's) notice, and every endeavour will be made to exploit the
success to the full.
2. _Advertisements_.
No opportunity for advertisement will be neglected.
Advance Agents will reconnoitre the ground thoroughly and secure the
best hoardings available.
The Leading Lady will lose her jewels not later than 4 P.M. on
December 22nd. "Q." will arrange for the necessary publicity.
3. _Chorus_.
Will consist of One Section Blondes and Brunettes, One Section Petites
and One Section "Stunners" (_see_ Standard Formation, para. 3a).
Category "B" will be at the back. Category "B" of last year's Chorus
will be transferred to the Pantomime Employment Company.
4. _Scenery_.
The S.E. (Scenic Engineers) will co-operate by improvising new scenery
out of last year's production as far as possible.
5. _Discipline._
The stage-manager will be responsible for the strictest discipline
being maintained during performances, and will put up a barrage of
invective at the slightest signs of slackness.
6. _Intelligence_.
Ground observers will be sent out to note the effect of the comedians'
gags upon the audience. They will report any impropriety at once to
the Manager, who will at once take steps to improve upon it.
7. _Police_.
Special Mounted Police will assist the doorkeeper to collect all
stragglers at the Stage Door and will cause them to be returned to
their paternal units (if their credentials are not satisfactory).
8. _Dressing-rooms_.
Disputes over dressing-rooms will be arranged between the artistes
concerned.
9. _Artistes._
The Fairy Queen will be specially employed to create a diversion while
the Palace Scene is being set behind.
The Demon King will put a few heavies across in the Grotto Scene.
The Eight Aerial Girlies (under the direction of the O.C. Flying Corps
de Ballet) will make a personal reconnaissance of the front rows of
the Stalls in "The Fairies' Bower" Scene.
The eyes of the Chorus will be worn in the "alert" position during
performances.
10. _Principals_.
Artistes will submit for approval not later than the 10th December the
details of their songs and dances. Comedians will also submit their
"gags" and comic scenes for blue-pencilling. This is merely a matter
of form and the strictest secrecy as to their real intentions will be
preserved in order that the principle of "springing it on one another"
should be maintained.
If twenty people are found in the bar during a comedian's turn he is
liable to summary dismissal.
Cross-talk Machine Fun Fire will be under direction of O.C. Gags.
11. _Music_.
Choruses and incidentals will be original. That is to say, they will
be taken from last year's MSS. and the crotchets moved up one space
and the quavers down one space.
12. _Rehearsals_.
A hot meal will be served after midnight rehearsals and taxis will be
provided for those who care to pay for them. "Q" will arrange.
13. _The Audience_.
Hostile retaliation is not anticipated, but arrangements will be made
to deal summarily with any counterattack. O.C. Chuckers-Out will
arrange.
14. _Organisation_.
The goodwill and earnest co-operation of all are solicited to achieve
the success which will be advantageous to all, especially to the
philanthropic Directors, who are poor men and cannot really afford it.
_Issued at 4 p.m._
Copies to:--
All Concerned.
(Signed) Etc., etc., etc.
* * * * *
HAVE YOU WATCHED THE FAIRIES?
Have you watched the fairies when the rain is done
Spreading out their little wings to dry them in the sun?
I have, I have! Isn't it fun?
Have you heard the fairies all among the limes
Singing little fairy tunes to little fairy rhymes?
I have, I have, lots and lots of times.
Have you seen the fairies dancing in the air
And dashing off behind the stars to tidy up their hair?
I have, I have; I've been there!
* * * * *
WAR THE REJUVENATOR.
"Rear-Admiral Sims ... is 59 years old and will be 53 next
October."--_Saturday Evening Post_.
* * * * *
"Miss ---- played the other works mentioned also, but while
Miss ---- can play these better than most--by far--she brings
the purest of fresh-air feeling into her playing of Bach's 'O
Si Sic Omnes.'"--_Daily Telegraph_.
What we want to hear is OFFENBACH'S _Mens sana in corpore sano._
* * * * *
"A personal experience in a large office not 1,000 miles
from where the bombs fell. Not a sign of panic; hardly even
of alarm."--_The Globe_.
We have heard of places not even 10 miles away where equal intrepidity
was displayed.
* * * * *
"UNIVERSITY OF BRISTOL CONTINGENT O.T.C.
Recruiting--Suitable candidates for admission should be under
the age of 7 years and 6 months, except in the case of former
members of a junior contingent."--_Bristol Evening News_.
The result of Baby Week at Bristol.
* * * * *
General VON BLUME says America's intervention is no more than "a
straw." But which straw? The last?
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE DEMOCRATIC TURN.
LITTLE WILLIE. "THIS MAY BE FUN FOR FATHER, BUT IT WON'T SUIT ME."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Proud Producer_. "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT FOR A NEW
POTATO?"
_Friend_. "IT'S NOT A NEW POTATO. YOU'VE SHOWN IT TO ME THREE TIMES
ALREADY."]
* * * * *
PHILIP.
Philip is the morose but rather dressy foreigner who resides in a
cage on the verandah. Miss Ropes, who owns him and ought to know,
says he is a Grey Cardinal, but neither his voracious appetite for
caterpillars nor his gruesome manner of assimilating them are in the
least dignified or ecclesiastical. It takes the unremitting efforts of
Miss Ropes and the entire available strength of convalescent officers
(after deducting the players of bridge, the stalkers of rabbits and
the jig-saw squad) to supply Philip with a square meal.
Recently a caterpillar famine began to make itself felt in the parts
of the garden near the house, and the enthusiasm of the collectors
evaporated at the prospect of searching farther afield.
Ansell was the first to cry off.
"I'm sorry, Miss Ropes," he said firmly, "but I have an instinctive
antipathy to reptiles."
"They aren't--they're insects."
"In that case," he replied still more firmly, "the shrieks of the
little creatures when Philip gets 'em rend my heartstrings. I don't
think the doctor would approve."
Haynes suggested that Philip's behaviour savoured of unpatriotism,
and that the one thing needful was the immediate appointment of a
caterpillar controller. Miss Ropes countered this by electing herself
to the post, and declaring that the supply was adequate to meet all
demands, as soon as the regrettable strike of transport-workers was
settled.
"Don't you think," I said, "that it would be very much nicer--for
Philip--if he were allowed to forage for himself? We had a bullfinch
once who spent his days in the garden and always came back to the cage
at night."
This apposite though untrue anecdote obviously impressed the lady, but
she decided that Philip was too precious to be made the subject of
experiment. The transport-workers then returned to their labours,
under protest.
However, a day or two later Fate played into our hands. Miss Ropes
herself inadvertently left the cage door open, and Philip escaped. The
entire establishment devoted the day to his pursuit, without success;
but in the evening the truant, dissipated and distended, lurched into
his cage of his own accord and went instantly to sleep.
Encouraged by his return and by the regular habits of my hypothetical
bullfinch, Miss Ropes let him out again next day. This time he did not
come back.
"Probably he's sleeping it off somewhere," said Haynes cheerfully.
"He'll be back to-morrow."
However he wasn't. Miss Ropes had his description posted up in
the village, and next day a telephone message informed us that a
suspicious red-headed character answering to the specification was
loitering near the "Waggon and Horses," and was being kept under
observation. Miss Ropes and Haynes went off to arrest him, but hardly
had they disappeared down the drive when Philip in person appeared on
the lawn.
This gave our handy man, James, his chance. James simply loves to make
himself useful. If anybody wants anything done he can always rely on
James to do it by a more complicated method and with more trouble
to himself than the ordinary man could conceive. His education is
generally understood to have consisted of an exhaustive study of the
"How-To-Make" column in the _Boys' Own Paper_, completed by a short
course of domestic engineering under Mr. W. HEATH ROBINSON.
We first knew that he had undertaken the case when we heard his voice
excitedly telling us not to move. Naturally we all turned to look at
him. He had got a butterfly net from somewhere and was lying flat on
his tummy and whistling seductively an alleged imitation of Philip's
usual remark. Philip, about thirty yards away, was eyeing him with
contempt.
Suddenly James gathered his limbs beneath him, sprang up, galloped ten
yards and flung himself down again, panting loudly. Philip, surprised
and alarmed, took refuge in a tree, whereupon James abandoned the
stalk (blaming us for having frightened Philip away) and retired to
think of another scheme.
Soon he reappeared with some pieces of bamboo and a square yard of
white calico, sat down solemnly in the verandah and began to sew.
"Is it a white flag? Are you going to parley with him, or what?" asked
Ansell.
"Trap," replied James shortly.
We watched with silent interest while he got more and more entangled
in his contrivance.
"I hope Philip'll know how to work the machine," said I, "because I'm
sure I shouldn't."
At last it was finished, and James took it out and set it. He
disguised it (rather thinly) with half-a-dozen oak leaves and baited
it with a lot of caterpillars, and retired behind a tree with the end
of a long piece of string in his hand.
"When Philip walks up to the trap," he explained, "he starts eating
the caterpillars. I pull the string, and he is caught in the calico.
It's called a bow-net."
He waited patiently for an hour-and-a-half, except for a short break
while he rounded up the caterpillars, who, not knowing the rules, had
walked away. Then we took the luncheon interval; scores, James (in
play) 0; Philip 0.
"I don't see," said Ansell soon after the resumption, "why poor old
James should do all the work. Let's all help."
We began by posting an appeal in prominent spots about the grounds:--
PHILIP--If this should meet the eye of. Return to your
sorrowing family, when all will be forgotten and forgiven
and no questions asked.
Next we festooned the estate with helpful notices, such as "This way
to the Trap -->" and "Caterpillar Buffet first turn to Left." One of
the peacocks was observed to be reading this last with great interest,
so we added a few more notices for the special benefit of unauthorised
food-hogs: "Free List Suspended until Further Notice," and "Eat Less
Worm."
At tea-time Philip was still holding coldly aloof. But while we were
indoors Bennett, the gardener, caught him by some simple artifice
beneath James's notice. I found him putting the truant back in his
cage.
"Don't do that, Bennett," I said. "Put him in Mr. James's trap. He's
had a lot of trouble making that trap, and it's a pity to waste it."
Bennett grinned a toothless grin at me and did some dialect, which I
understood to mean that I might do as I liked, but that he (Bennett)
was not going to catch no more birds for us.
Hardly had I put Philip in the trap when James emerged.
"Good Lord!" he shouted, "it's done it! He's in!"
He dashed on to the lawn, wild with joy. Probably it was the first
time any of his devices had succeeded.
"Aha, my beauty," he cried, slipping his hand under the calico. "We've
got you safe, have we?"
We had not. There was a flash of red and grey, and the outraged
Philip, minus a tail feather, sought the sanctuary of the woods.
He is still absent without leave at the time of writing.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Manager of Labour Exchange_ (_to man whom he has sent
to a job for "an intelligent labourer to assist the demonstrator of
tanks; one who can hold his tongue about the work"_). "WELL, MIKE,
HOW'S EVERYTHING GOING?"
_Mike_ (_confidentially_). "FAITH, BUT THEY'RE A DEAD FAILURE, SORR.
WHY, THREE WEEKS I'VE BEEN ON THIM TANKS AND NIVER WAN HAS RIZ OFF THE
GROUND YET."]
* * * * *
FURTHER REMINISCENCES.
(_WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO MR. GEORGE R. SIMS_).
We come now to the beginning of the sixties. I well remember, early in
the summer of one of them, Gentleman Dick--we called him this because
his father had been a tramp, and, although he scarcely justified the
maternal strain (his mother had been a washerwoman), he was certainly
to all appearances his father's son--rushing in to tell me that
"Blue Satin," the prize bull bitch belonging to the proprietor of
that well-known tavern--public-houses were scarcely known in those
days--"The Seven Sisters," had given birth to a son.
This was an opportunity too good to be missed, and in spite of the
bitter cold I hurried off with Gentleman Dick, who already had
acquired no small reputation for his dexterity in hanging on to the
backs of cabs, and ultimately secured "Albert the Good." If I had to
christen a pup now I should naturally call him "Jellicoe the Brave."
"Albert the Good" scarcely lived up to his name and eventually I had
to get rid of him. He bit a piece out of a constable's leg. Sir J----
B----, the presiding magistrate at Bow Street, was most charming about
it however, and gave me a seat on the bench during the constable's
evidence.
I remember it especially because it was the day following this I was
in at the death, when Ebenezer Smith, the Mayfair murderer, came to
his end. He made an excellent breakfast of ham and eggs just before
his execution, the Governor was good enough to tell me, and was
collected enough even to grumble at the age of one of the eggs.
D---- L----, the famous comedian, was very funny always about his
eggs. I remember he had an idea that if you whistled to the hen before
the egg was laid the result tasted better when you ate it. He wanted
me to write a comic song for him on these lines, but the idea never
came to anything. I was very busy at the time collecting royalties.
The thousandth performance of _The Merry Murderers_ had just taken
place, and at last I felt free to shake the dust of the City from my
feet and devote myself to literature.
It was just about this time that Jim Peters became the idol of England
through knocking out the Black Bully--a coloured bruiser with an
immense capacity for eating beef--in a couple of rounds. Peters was
one of the best of fellows when he wasn't drunk, and could wink one
eye in a manner I have never seen equalled by that later idol of the
British public, M---- L----.
Alas! poor Peters from fat purses fell to thin times. He petered out,
in fact, as far as the Mile End workhouse, where I discovered him one
sad day, and was ultimately able to get him married to the lady who
sold winkles on the pavement just outside. Her previous pitch had been
just outside the Hoxton Theatre, but she told me she found Mile End
more disposed to her wares. The marriage turned out a very happy one,
I am glad to say, and it pleased me to think that Jim, having had his
wink, was at least sure of his winkle.
I remember another old friend of mine--John Madden--he made a hit
in that ill-fated play, _A Little Bit Off the Top_--who had an
extraordinary passion for shell-fish. I have often seen him seated on
Southend Pier eating shrimps out of a paper-bag. By the way, I ought
to add that he always purchased the shrimps in town and travelled down
with them.
Poor John, he might still be eating shrimps to-day if he hadn't caught
a chill throwing off his sable coat during a rehearsal at the "Lane."
Talking of fur coats, Florence Montgomery, who flourished in the early
eighties, and took the town by storm singing, "Let me share your
umbrella," in tights, had a perfect passion for them. She had one for
every day in the week, as she laughingly told me once. She vanished
suddenly, and everybody thought she had eloped with the Russian Duke
B---- (he had been paying her marked attention), but it turned out
afterwards that she had married a dustman.
I met him casually at one of the yearly dinners given to this
hardworking body of men--a most affable person he was too and deeply
interested in the chemical properties of manure--and it came out. Some
people might have thought a marriage like this a bit of a hygienic
risk, but Florence always had a heart of gold.
I have often thought this possession to be a particular attribute of
the theatrical profession. Bessie Bean, the "Cocoa Queen," possessed
it in a marked degree. I remember we called her the "Cocoa Queen"
because she always fancied "a drop of something comforting" just
before the curtain went up on the Third Act. Only, unfortunately, it
wasn't cocoa.
Arthur Batchen, manager of the Fly-by-Night Theatre and one of the
best fellows that ever breathed, told me once he thought the soda
must get into Bessie's legs. But her dresser was positive about her
instructions always to forget the soda. So I don't think it can have
been that.
I remember too--
[For the continuation of this interesting series of reminiscences
see to-morrow's _Evening Cues_.]
* * * * *
A LOST LEADER.
(_OR, THOUGHTS ON TREK._)
The men are marching like the best;
The waggons wind across the lea;
At ten to two we have a rest,
We have a rest at ten to three;
I ride ahead upon my gee
And try to look serene and gay;
The whole battalion follows me,
_And I believe I've lost the way._
Full many a high-class thoroughfare
My erring map does not disclose,
While roads that are not really there
The same elaborately shows;
And whether this is one of those
It needs a clever man to say;
I am not clever, I suppose,
_And I believe I've lost the way._
The soldiers sing about their beer;
The wretched road goes on and on;
There ought to be a turning here,
But if there was the thing has gone;
Like some depressed automaton
I ask at each _estaminet_;
They say, "_Tout droit_," and I say "_Bon_,"
_But I believe I've lost the way._