Punch, July 18, 1917 by Various
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Various >> Punch, July 18, 1917
I dare not tell the trustful men;
They think me wonderful and wise;
But where will be the legend when
They get a shock of such a size?
And what about our brave Allies?
They wanted us to fight to-day;
We were to be a big surprise--
_And I believe I've lost the way._
* * * * *
The Dawn of Peace?
"The Commissioners of H.M. Works, &c., are prepared to
receive tenders for the supply of:
(a) Floor polish during a period of six or 12 months from
1st August, 1917.
(b) Arm chairs."--_Daily Telegraph_.
* * * * *
From an interview with an eminent playwright regarding a new farce:--
"Has my face a war object? Certainly it has, a very
definite though an indirect one."--_Liverpool Echo_.
If it hadn't been so old a joke, we should have guessed that the
author has a strong cast in his eye.
* * * * *
"A Chaplain Wanted, for private chapel in the Highlands. There
is plenty of stalking for a good shot, also there is fishing,
shooting, and golf. A chaplain is wanted who can drive a
motor-car. Terms £1, travelling expenses are paid, and there
are rooms provided."--_Daily Telegraph_.
Yet there are still people who write to the newspapers demanding
"Liberty for the Church."
* * * * *
[Illustration: LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: ITS DISTURBING INFLUENCE.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mother_. "OH, MARY, WHY DO YOU WIPE YOUR MOUTH WITH
THE BACK OF YOUR HAND?"
_Mary_. "'COS IT'S SO MUCH CLEANER THAN THE FRONT."]
* * * * *
"SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT."
I, who before these lines appear (or don't)
Must face the Board reviewing my diseases,
Am fluttered, as the sentient soul is wont,
Thinking how rum the case of me and these is;
We'll come together--just because it pleases
Some higher Pow'r--and then for ever part.
Not having learnt each other's views on Art,
Nor in our only chat got really heart to heart.
They'll sound _my_ heart, it's true, but in a way ...
Perhaps they'll ask me if I've had enteric;
But can I tell them that I've writ a play
And have a nephew who is atmospheric?
Or that my people meant me for a cleric
(But Satan didn't)? or even that I shan't
Be left much money by my maiden aunt?--
These are the human links that bind us, but I can't.
Nor can I hope to get behind the mask
That shrouds from me their human cares and graces.
"Is your name William?" I shall want to ask,
And burn to know if this one bets on races,
Or that one has a pretty taste in braces,
Or if a third, who only says, "Just so,"
Beneath his tunic has a heart aglow
With treasured words of praise dropped by his golfing pro.
We'll part, we'll part! Nor with a soulful cry
Will one strong human citadel surrender.
M.O.'s who dandle babes no less than I
Will leave me cold; M.O.'s who have a tender
Passion for my own type of sock-suspender
Won't utter it. Though on my heaving breast
They lean their heads, they'll lean them uncaressed;
We'll part, nor overstep the auscultation test.
* * * * *
"AMERICA'S BLOCKADE.
By David G. Pinkney, the well-known chip-owner."--_Evening News_.
A chip of the old blockade.
* * * * *
"Businesses suitable for ex-soldiers: generals and others; taking
£40 wkly, price £35. Call or stamp."--_The Daily Chronicle_.
We can almost hear our Generals stamping.
* * * * *
"It was an extremely difficult thing to effect a hit with
anti-aircraft guns. A 'ricohetting' pheasant was nothing
to it."--_The Globe_.
We take this remarkable bird to be a sort of bouncing "rocketer."
* * * * *
Extract from a testimonial sent to a patent-medicine vendor:--
"If you remember I came to you three days after I was bitten
by my cat on the recommendation of a lady friend."--_Straits
Times_.
We think it was cowardly of the lady to employ an agent.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BUSINESS OF THE MOMENT.
JOHN BULL. "I'VE LEARNED HOW TO DEAL WITH YOUR ZEPP BROTHER, AND NOW
I'M GOING TO ATTEND TO YOU."]
* * * * *
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
_Monday, July 9th_.--With the sound of Saturday's bombs still in their
ears Members came down to the House prepared to make things very
uncomfortable for Ministers. Woe betide them if they could not explain
satisfactorily, first, why the raiders had been able to get to London
at all, and, secondly, why they had been allowed to depart almost
unscathed. In this atmosphere the usual badinage of Question-time
passed almost unnoticed. Mr. BALFOUR gave a neat summary of Germany's
propagandist methods. "In Russia, where autocracy has been abolished,
it declares that we are secretly fostering reaction; in Spain, where
there is a constitutional monarchy, it proclaims that we are aiming at
revolution. Both statements are untrue; both are absurd."
Not until Mr. BONAR LAW announced that the PRIME MINISTER would move
the adjournment of the House and make in Secret Session a statement
regarding the air-raid was the House really roused. At once a storm
of "supplementaries" broke forth. Mr. P. BILLING, baulked of his
prey--for private sittings are no use to orators of the flatulent
variety--bounced up and down like a Jack-in-the-Box until the SPEAKER
finally suppressed him with the words, "There must be a limit to
this." The Member for East Herts is presumably "the limit" referred
to.
Fortunately, perhaps, for the Government the Home Office Vote was the
subject for discussion. This gave Members an opportunity for blowing
off a lot of preliminary steam. At one moment an even more dangerous
explosion was feared. Sir HENRY DALZIEL suddenly produced from his
capacious coat-tails a shell which had fallen into his office during
the raid. His neighbours crowded round to examine it, until his remark
that it was "still unexploded" caused a slump in their curiosity.
There was once a statesman who, to emphasize his argument, flung a
dagger upon the floor of the House. For once the House was thankful
that Sir HENRY DALZIEL bears no resemblance to BURKE.
To warn or not to warn: that was the question mainly agitating
Members. The majority appeared to think that some system of
sound-signals was desirable; others pointed out that many threatened
raids proved abortive, and that sirens would interfere with business,
as in the leading case of Ulysses. Thanks to the HOME SECRETARY'S
conciliatory methods there was considerably less tension in the
atmosphere when the time came for the PRIME MINISTER to make his
statement. When air-raids are about there is nothing he finds handier
than a comfortable and capacious CAVE.
[Illustration: WORK OF "GREATER NATIONAL IMPORTANCE."
MR. SPEAKER MISSES A GREAT CHANCE.]
_Tuesday, July 10th_.--The echoes of the air-raid had almost died
away by this afternoon. When Mr. BILLING again tried to move the
adjournment, the SPEAKER put him back in his box with so firm a hand
that his spring may have been irretrievably injured. It is hoped that
the National Service Department, which recently sent Mr. LOWTHER
a notice informing him that he was about to be transferred to
Wolverhampton as a labourer at 4s. 10d. a day, "on the ground that
such employment is deemed to be of greater national importance than
that on which he is at present engaged," will now consent to hold its
hand.
When the House was about to go into Committee on the Corn Production
Bill a strange thing happened. Before leaving the Chair the
SPEAKER was proceeding to lop off a few excrescences in the way
of Instructions that appeared on the Order-paper. Meanwhile the
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS had advanced to the Table to remove the Mace. "Order,
order!" exclaimed the SPEAKER, upon which Sir COLIN KEPPEL, much
abashed to think that he, the guardian of order, should have been
regarded as even potentially insubordinate, beat, for the first time
in a gallant career, a hasty retreat.
The Government had to withstand a massed attack by the Free Traders,
who even in war-time have not entirely shed their prejudices against
subsidizing the farmer at the expense of the rest of the community,
although the object of the subsidies is to ensure the rest of the
community having enough to eat. Mr. RUNCIMAN and his colleagues had
the temerity to take a division which ran very much upon the old
party-lines; but on this occasion the Nationalists, in the interest
of Irish farmers, were not "agin' the Government," but helped it to
secure the comfortable majority of 84.
_Wednesday, July 11th_.--In the matter of the Mesopotamia Report a
large section of the public and the Press is in the mood of _Sam
Weller_, "Ain't nobody to be whopped?" Anxious to satisfy this demand
and at the same time to do justice to the individuals arraigned,
the Government proposes to set up a special tribunal under the Army
(Courts of Inquiry) Act. That measure, passed to deal with the strange
case of the Bashful Lieutenant and the Lively Lady, and now to be
utilized for this considerably larger issue, appears to resemble
the elephant's trunk in its singular adaptability. But there was a
tendency in both Houses to regard the procedure as more ingenious than
statesmanlike.
_Thursday, July 12th_.--The HOME SECRETARY announced that it had been
decided to warn the public in future when an air-raid was actually
imminent, and added that the exact method would be stated shortly. I
am glad that he did not accept Sir FRANCIS LOWE'S proposal to set the
telephone-bells ringing all over London. Think of the language which
would proceed from a hundred thousand agitated subscribers, deceived
into answering supposed "calls," when they ought to be making for
their dug-outs.
The gist of a very long speech by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL was that the
Press had mistaken the Mesopotamia Commission for a Hanging Committee,
whereas it much more resembled a Fishing Expedition. But his new
tribunal found little favour with the House, especially when it was
discovered that it would have no power to try the civilians affected.
One of them, Mr. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN, announced his resignation--much
to the regret of Mr. BALFOUR, who has no intention of following his
example or of allowing Lord HARDINGE to do so. In the end it was
decided that there must be an entirely new tribunal, which can deal
fairly--and, one hopes, finally--with both soldiers and civilians. But
it is now even betting that the Mesopotamia laundry-work will outlast
the duration of the War.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Visitor to a country churchyard_ (_seeing elderly
gentleman listening hard, presumably to the choir singing in the
church_). "IT'S VERY BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?"
_Elderly gentleman_ (_naturalist, listening to the grasshoppers_).
"AND THE WONDERFUL THING IS THAT THEY DO IT BY RUBBING THEIR LEGS
TOGETHER."]
* * * * *
"Ex-P.C. and wife will take care of your residence during holidays
or other period; p.c. will receive prompt attention."--_Sheffield
Telegraph._
But what about p.c.'s wife?
* * * * *
"The bride's going-away dress was a silver cigarette
case."--_Dover Telegraph_.
We don't like this new fashion for brides. It is too suggestive of
"weeds."
* * * * *
"Ale and beer--Brew your own, 4½ gallons for 1s.; intoxicative;
no malt; legal; two trade recipes, 1s."--_Cork Examiner_.
In England we do not require to brew this "intoxicative" with "no
malt" for ourselves. Every public-house sells it.
* * * * *
SIRENS AND THEIR SUCCESSORS.
[A writer in an evening paper has been discussing the book that
might be written on Sirens' Songs.]
What were the songs the Sirens sang
Three thousand years ago or more,
When their silvery voices rose and rang
Over the ocean's wine-dark floor,
And brought a strange perturbing pang
To the heart of the wisest man of yore?
Music and words have passed away,
But a modern rhymer is free to guess
What lent such wizardry to their lay,
What gave it glamour and tenderness,
And lured the hardy seaman astray
From the paths of duty and toil and stress.
They sang of the Zephyr's scented breeze,
Of amber eve and star-strewn night,
Of the moan of doves, the murmur of bees,
Of water trickling from the height,
And all that ministers to our ease
And puts dull carking care to flight.
They sang of banquets in gorgeous halls,
Of raiment tinct with saffron dyes;
Of ivory towers and crystal walls
And beauty in many a wondrous guise,
And all that fascinates and enthralls
The saint and the sinner, the fool and the wise.
Wily Ulysses at heart was sound--
At least he was quite a family man;
He faced the fatal music, but found
An antidote to the risks he ran,
For he sealed the ears of his crew, and bound
Himself to the mast ere the song began.
But the Siren who sang and slew is now
The fable outworn of an age remote,
And the women to whom to-day we bow
Have long abjured her sinister note;
She heals, she helps, she follows the plough,
And her song has fairly earned her the vote.
* * * * *
WHAT THE KINGFISHER KNEW.
The wind ruffled the grey water of the stream under the old stone
bridge.
"Ssshhh, ssshhh," whispered the young willows, "what will become of
us? what will they make of us? Ssshhh, ssshhh." But no one replied,
chiefly because no one knew, excepting the kingfisher, and he was away
on a fishing expedition.
Then one day the woodcutters came and the sound of their axes rang
out over the meadows by the quiet stream. A great many of the older
willows were laid low that day, and the young trees bent and whispered
among themselves, "Ssshhh, ssshhh, what will become of them? what will
they make of them? Ssshhh, ssshhh." This time the kingfisher answered
them, for he was just back from a fishing expedition.
"They will make them into cricket-bats," he said; "that is what
willow-trees are used for." And he sat and preened his gay little body
in the sun.
"Sss-shameful! Sss-shameful!" whispered the young willow-trees. "To
cut and maim and carve us up just for men and boys to play with.
Sss-shame! Sss-shame! If they only used us for tools to work with
or for swords to fight with, we shouldn't mind; but just for sport!
Sss-shame! Sss-shame!" And they trembled and whispered among
themselves on the edge of the silver stream.
But although the kingfisher happened to have a very little body he had
a very big mind, and he explained to the young willow-trees that, even
if cricket might be only a game, yet it trained boys and men for the
Battle of Life. But the willow-trees were young and of course they
thought they knew best, so they went on whispering among themselves,
"Sss-shame! sss-shame!"
After the War began the kingfisher used to bring back what news he
could gather on his fishing expeditions. "They are cutting down the
oaks in the lower spinney," he told them one day. "I expect they will
be used for building ships." And he preened his little dazzling body
in the sun.
"I wish they would use _us_ for building ships," whispered the
willows. "I wish they would let _us_ die for our country. All our
brave men and boys have gone to fight; they do not even need us for
cricket-bats now," they sighed sadly. "I wish they were back and
wanting us to play games with."
And then one day, when the young willow-trees had grown older and more
wise, the woodmen came again to the quiet stream.
"What have they come for? What will they do with us?" whispered the
willow-trees as they shivered and trembled on the reedy margin of the
stream. The kingfisher was preening his small many-hued body in the
sun.
"I'll find out," he said, and flashed away like a fragment of rainbow
gone astray. Almost by the time the first stroke of the axe rang out
over the sleeping meadows he was back again.
"You are going to die for your country," he told them. "They are using
willows to make new limbs for our brave soldiers and sailors who have
lost their own; they are using willows to make new limbs for our brave
sailors and soldiers." Up and down the stream he darted, spreading the
wonderful news; and so the willow-trees were comforted.
"Ssshhh, ssshhh," they whispered. "Ssshhh! ssshhh! for our brave
solders and sailors, for our dear sailors and soldiers--ssshhh,
ssshhh."
* * * * *
[Illustration: AT OUR RED CROSS SALE.
"MR. JEM WALLOP, A RETIRED HEAVY-WEIGHT CHAMPION, HAS VERY KINDLY
CONSENTED TO GIVE A LESSON IN BOXING TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER."]
* * * * *
COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.
"Electric hoist for passenger or goods; to lift 10cwt.;
little use."--_Manchester Paper_.
* * * * *
"CHINESE CRISIS.
DISTRUST OF THE ICE-PRESIDENT."--_Times and Mirror (Bristol)_.
Yet one would have thought him the very man to preserve his coolness.
* * * * *
"HAIR REPORTS PROGRESS.
G.H.Q., Tuesday, 11.46 a.m."--_Star_.
It is hoped now that the British _communiqués_ will be a little less
bald.
* * * * *
THE BOAT.
A STUDY IN INDIFFERENCE.
One likes to think of oneself as a person of some importance, whose
vital spark, even in these days when life is so cheap, ought to be
guarded with solicitude. Indeed, to adapt CLOUGH'S phrase, one wants
other people--and especially those whose prosperity is dependent upon
us--officiously to keep us alive.
This being my not unnatural attitude, you will understand what a shock
I had when the owner of the boat, who would expire of starvation if
his boats were not hired, treated me as he has done.
The boat in question was needed for an estuary or bay in which sailing
is permitted. Since we had decided to take a holiday on the shores
of this water it seemed well to secure something to navigate; and
as I detest rowing it had to be something with sails, petrol being
too scarce. The hotel people sent me the name of a man who had
sailing-boats for hire. I corresponded with him, fixed up the price
(an exorbitant one), and arranged for the boat to be ready on Monday
afternoon.
On Monday afternoon it had not arrived. There was the sea; there was
the little pier; there were plenty of rowing-boats, but my vessel
was--where?
After breakfast the next day there was still no boat, but word came
that its owner had called and would I see him?
"About the boat," he began.
"Where is it?" I asked.
"She's moored just round the point there," he said.
"Why isn't she here?" I asked, adopting his pronoun. I had forgotten
for the moment that boats belong to the now enfranchised sex.
"Did you want her so soon?" he replied.
"It was all arranged for her to be here yesterday afternoon," I said.
"I have your letter about it."
"Oh, well, she'll be here directly," he answered.
"I should have preferred you to keep your word," I said stiffly.
He made no reply.
"Send for her at once," I said. It was now half-past ten. "I want to
go out this morning;" and he agreed.
The boat arrived at a little after three--an open boat with a mast. No
deck; nowhere to be comfortable, as the boom swung almost level with
the bulwarks. There was a foot of water in her.
Her owner arrived while I was noting these things.
He looked at her with pride. "She's a good boat," he said. "She used
to be a lifeboat, with tanks in her to keep her buoyant, but I took
them out."
"I was expecting one with a deck," I said.
"Deck? Who wants a deck?" he answered. "She's all right. You must keep
baling, that's all. She would, be all the better for some white-lead
and paint."
"Why not give them to her?" I asked.
He pointed to an island about a mile distant and a headland half a
mile across the bay. "Keep within those two spots," he said, "and
you'll be all right. It's not safe to take her beyond. There might
be squalls."
"Rather limited," I suggested.
"There's grand water in between," he said. "Deep too in places. Nine
fathoms."
"Where's the man to sail her?" I asked.
"The man?" he replied. "Aren't you going to sail her yourself? Your
letter said nothing about a man."
"Good heavens!" I said, "you surely wouldn't let a total stranger try
to sail a boat here among all these unknown rocks and currents?"
From his manner it was plain that he would, cheerfully.
"Well, I've no man to spare," he said at last. "But there's a boy in
the village who could come. He's not right in his head quite, but
he'll be handy."
"Does he know the channels?" I asked.
"No, I wouldn't say he knew the channels," he replied, "but he'll be
handy."
"Have you any life-belts?" I asked.
"There were some," he said, "but they've gone."
"You're not very encouraging," I remarked. "Surely you don't want
people drowned in your boats? It wouldn't do the village or the hotel
any good."
"No, I suppose not," he assented thoughtfully; "but no one's going to
be drowned. No one ever has been drowned in that boat since I've had
her." He laughed a hearty laugh. "So that's all right," he added, and
was gone.
I now know what an invalid feels like who, after a few weeks in (so to
speak) cotton-wool, is deposited on the doorstep in the sleet.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Grandpapa_ (_to small Teuton struggling with home
lessons_). "COME, FRITZ, IS YOUR TASK SO DIFFICULT?"
_Fritz_. "IT IS INDEED. I HAVE TO LEARN THE NAMES OF _ALL_ THE
COUNTRIES THAT MISUNDERSTAND THE ALL-HIGHEST."]
* * * * *
"Consequently, if Austria wants to save her twin-broth Hungary
from a crushing defeat she must take her armies from Lemberg in
a round-about way through most inconvenient mountain passes."
Judging by this account the Central Powers seem to be in the soup.
* * * * *
"To ascertain to what extent the children under their care have
lost weight as a result of the war dietary, the Henley-on-Thames
Guardians have decided to have them weighed periodically. At a
certain boarding school all the boys were found to have lost
weight--in some cases to the extent of 111lb--under the new food
régime."--_Manchester Guardian_.
What did these young giants weigh before the War?
* * * * *
"Dr. A---- is the gifted author of his old Vicar, the late Dr.
Bickersteth, who afterwards, became Bishop of Exeter. He is
also a son-in-law of the late Bishop."--_Church Paper_.
And apparently (by marriage) his own grandfather.
* * * * *
THE VOTE.
"And now," I said, "that you've got your dear vote, what are you going
to do with it?"
"If," said Francesca, "you'll promise to treat it as strictly
confidential I'll tell you."
"There you are," I said. "Unless you can make a secret out of it you
take no pleasure in it. You're just like a lot of girls who--"
"I'm not. I'm not even like one girl. I wish I was."
"I don't. I like your mature intellect. I can't do without your
balanced judgment."
"Thanks; it's pleasant to be appreciated as one deserves. And now I'll
tell you what I'm going to do with my vote. When the time comes I
shall take it with me into what's called a polling-booth, and I shall
demand a piece of paper, and then--yes, then I shall destroy the
sanctity of the home and neglect my children, and, incidentally, I
shall break up the Empire, and do all the other dreadful things that
you and the others have been prophesying; and I shall do them simply
by making a cross opposite the name of the candidate who's got the
nicest eyes and the prettiest moustache. That's what I shall do with
my vote. I shall vote with it by ballot. What else could I do?"
"Great Heaven! Francesca, how can you be so frivolous? Are you aware
that politics, in which you are now to play a part however humble, are
a serious matter?"
"I know," she said, "and that is why they'll be all the better for
an occasional touch of lightness. There's some Latin quotation about
Apollo, isn't there, my Public School and University man? Well, I'm
all for that."
"But," I said, "you don't know how dangerous it is to be light and
humorous at public meetings or in the House of Commons. A man gets a
reputation for that sort of thing, and then he's expected to keep it
up; and, anyhow, it gives him no influence, however funny he may be.
The other men laugh at him, but distrust him profoundly."
"Pooh!" said Francisca. "That's all very well for men--they have
little humour and no wit--"