Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, Dec. 19, 1917 by Various
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 153, Dec. 19, 1917
Yet the same genial pens that freight
Our memories with joyous magic
Gave us the tale of _Francie's_ fate--
So vulgar, lovable and tragic;
Just to the land that gave them birth
They showed her smiling, sad and sullen,
And turning from the paths of mirth
Probed the dark soul of _Charlotte Mullen_.
Alas! the tie, so close, so dear,
Two years ago death rent asunder;
Hushed is the voice so gay and clear
Which moved us once to joy and wonder;
Yet, though they chronicle a loss
Whose pang no lapse of time assuages,
The spirit of brave "MARTIN ROSS"
Shines like a star throughout these pages.
Here in her letters may one trace
The generous scorn, the gentle pity,
The easy unaffected grace,
The wisdom that was always witty;
Here, mirrored in a sister soul,
One sees the comrade, strong yet tender,
Who marched unfaltering to her goal
Through sacrifice and self-surrender.
* * * * *
THE FOOD OF THE FAMOUS.
The publication of Lord RHONDDA'S daily menu will, we hope, lead
other prominent people who are striving to follow his good example
to divulge the details of their dietary. But in case their natural
modesty may prevent them from doing so, Mr. Punch ventures to supply
a few unauthorised particulars.
The source of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S boundless energy has long been
a mystery. It is now known to be derived from a raw leek eaten
on rising, and a dinner of Welsh rabbit, made from a modicum of
Government cheese and half a slice of war bread.
With Mr. BONAR LAW all meals are oatmeals. A plate of porridge at
daybreak, bannocks slightly margarined, when possible, for lunch,
and a stiff cup of gruel just after Question time keep him alert and
smiling.
Thanks to the Spartan habits formed during his connection with both
services, belt-tightening has no terrors for Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL. A
quid of Navy tobacco suffices for breakfast, and his only other meal
consists of a slice of bully beef with a hard biscuit served on an
inverted packing-case.
The wild rumours recently current as to the amount of nutriment
required for the upkeep of Mr. G.K. CHESTERTON have now been happily
set at rest. The needful calories for twenty-four hours of his
strenuous existence are supplied by two cups of cocoa, a shred of
dried toast, a Brazil nut, a glass of sodawater and a grilled banana.
* * * * *
"In one case the good cows from one herd had an average
production of 9,592 lbs. milk, and 406 lbs. of fat, while
the poor cows had a production of only 3,098 lbs. of milk
and 119 lbs. of tea."--_Farming News_.
Give us the poor cows every time.
* * * * *
From a Church paper:--
"'EARLY CHRISTIANS.' I am sorry you cannot get these from
the Army and Navy Stores."
It sounds like the old tiger story.
* * * * *
"A certain company commander, looking out of his quarters, saw
several Germans in possession of a dump not far away. Although
still in his sleeping clothes, he seized his trench tick
and rushed towards them. Why they did not fire upon him is
one of those little mysteries which will probably never be
explained."--_Daily Paper_.
Unless by the learned author of _Minor Horrors of War_, who knows all
about the fauna of the trenches.
* * * * *
THE PERFECT CUSTOMER.
It was a very ordinary country sale of work. The Countess of Bilberry
declared it open in a neat little speech, and then bought generously
from every stall: her daughter, whose smile nobody could resist, did a
fine trade with raffle tickets for the record pumpkin produced by the
local allotments: Mrs. Dodd, the Rector's wife, presided over a pair
of scales and a strictly rationed tea, and all the rest of the village
sold vegetables and socks and pincushions, and tried to pretend that
antimacassars and shaving tidies and woolwork waistbelts were the most
desirable things in the world when they were made by wounded men at
the nearest Red Cross Hospital, in whose aid the sale was held.
But there was one unique figure amongst all the folk who knew each
other, and each other's clothes, and each other's clothes' cost, so
well. She arrived at the Village Hall in a pony-carriage, drawn by
the ugliest little pony that ever sniffed oats. She was very quietly
and very tastefully dressed, and, instead of concentrating on the
well-laden stalls of garden produce or the orderly stacks of knitted
comforts, or the really useful baskets, she went straight to the stall
which even Mrs. Dodd, who had the kindest heart in the countryside,
had been compelled to relegate to a dark corner. There was
woolwork run riot over cushions of incredible hardness; there were
candle-shades guaranteed to catch alight at the mere sight of a match;
there were crochet dressing-table mats, and there was a three-legged
stool on which even a fairy could not have sat without danger of a
break-down.
The youngest Miss Dodd, a severely practical young lady of sixteen,
who was presiding at this stall, jumped up in surprise at the sight of
a customer, and in doing so knocked over a glass box bound with red
and white and blue ribbon, with "Handkerchiefs" painted across the
corner in a design of forget-me-nots. There was very little glass box
left when she picked it up, and the splinters had made a good many
little craters in the surface of a big bowl of clotted cream, labelled
"Positively the last appearance for the Duration of the War," which
was at the corner of the next stall.
The little stranger said that she would take the box and the damaged
cream too; she bought a whole family of crochet mats with centres
of orange woollen loops; three pincushions made of playing cards
discharged as no longer fit for active service; a table-centre with
pen-painting of the Allied flags, and a letter-case with the badges of
the Dominions worked in wool and "Across the sea, A letter from thee,"
straggling wearily across one corner. Then there was an antimacassar
in purple and magenta sateen, with yellow daffodils making a brave
attempt to flourish in unlikely surroundings.
At the next stall she bought a photograph frame which had lost its
prop in an unequal contest with a tea-tray which had collapsed from
the heartiness of the Rector's clapping at the conclusion of the
Countess's speech; and a Noah's Ark from which the star performer
and his very best beasts had somehow disappeared.
Then the little lady paused before the live-stock stall.
"There isn't anything really hideous here," she murmured to herself;
"but I think that puppy--it's never had its tail cut, and nobody will
ever know whether it's a sealyham, a spaniel or even a dash of a
setter--I will take the puppy, please," she added, "as soon as I've
had some tea. After that I will see what is left. You have such nice
things."
After tea she went back to the youngest Miss Dodd and collected a few
more of the more glaring atrocities, paid her bills, and then went off
to her pony-carriage; the youngest Miss Dodd, very much inclined to
giggle, bearing armfuls of odd purchases in her wake, crowned by the
bowl of cream and the mongrel pup. She handed them in and was just
going away when the little old lady pressed a piece of paper into her
hand.
"I don't like to worry people," she said gently, "but if you have time
you might read this. It has been a great opportunity to-day; I don't
often find so much to be done--and I shall love the puppy."
The youngest Miss Dodd watched the start of the ugly pony with a
snigger and then went back into the lighted hall to read the pamphlet.
It was a touching little document--many people know it well--and the
youngest Miss Dodd, who had never been known to sentimentalize over
anything before, blew her nose rather violently when she had read it.
"Bless her dear little soul!" she said to herself: "I don't wonder
that pup was trying to kiss her. I only hope she won't try to eat that
cream with the glass in it, or give it to the pup." For the pamphlet
was the Rules for Membership and a treatise on the Objects and Methods
of the "Society for Buying What Nobody Wants."
* * * * *
MORE PROFITEERING.
"Beautiful champagne broche silk crepe de chine blouse; open neck; one
button; cost 2s. 6d.; accept 15s."--_The Lady_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: INEFFICIENCY IN THE NAVY.
_First Bluejacket_. "HULLO, MATE, I THOUGHT YOU WAS ASHORE WITH THE
CAPTAIN, PLAYING GOLF."
_Second Bluejacket_. "WELL, SO I WAS. IT'S LIKE THIS 'ERE. 'E GIVES ME
'IS STICKS TO CARRY, AND THEN TAKES ONE AND PUTS A LI'L WHITE BALL ON
TOP OF A BIT O' SAND AND, MY WORD! HE CATCHES THAT BALL A FAIR SWIPE.
MUST 'A' GONE MILES. THEN 'E TURNS TO ME AND SEZ, 'DID YER SEE WHERE
THAT WENT TO?' SO I SEZ, SMART LIKE, 'OUT O' SIGHT FROM THE MOMENT OF
HIMPACT, SIR,' AN' 'E SEZ, 'GO BACK ON BOARD, YE BLINKIN' FATHEAD!'"]
* * * * *
CONVERSIONS.
There was an exuberant flapper
Who made people anxious to slap her;
She uttered loud squeals
And she smoked at all meals;
Now she's married an elderly sapper.
There was a mild don who was muddy
In mind and complexion by study;
Now he flies fast and far,
With a cross and a bar,
And his face and his language are ruddy.
* * * * *
"BRITISH FRONT REINFORCED.
"BY PERCIVAL PHILLIPS."
_Daily Paper_.
Intrepid fellows, our war correspondents. What a pity there are so few
of them!
* * * * *
"A long, keen dagger will be supplied to every American
infantryman going to France. This weapon will be fitted into
one of the fighting men's leggings when he goes into action,
so he will have something to fall back on should his bayonet
fail."--_Canadian Paper_.
If he's going to fall back on it, we hope the sharp end won't be at
the top.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Sub_. "I SAY, SERGEANT-MAJOR, DO YOU REALISE THAT
THAT CHAP WITH THE BARROW IS A MEMBER OF AN ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOCIETY?"
_The Sergeant-Major_. "WELL, SIR, 'E MAY BE WHAT YOU SAY. PERSONALLY
I'VE ALWAYS FOUND 'IM QUIET AND WELL-BE'AVED."]
* * * * *
THE CLYDE-BUILT CLIPPER.
[Many of the fast-sailing clippers which were making fine passages
in the Australian wool trade in the 'seventies and onwards were
laid up or turned into hulks before the War. Recently, however,
several have been re-fitted for sea and are once more doing good
service.]
A ship there was, and she went to sea
(Away O, my Clyde-built clipper!)
In eighteen hundred and seventy-three,
Fine in the lines and keen in the bow,
The way they've forgotten to build 'em now:
Lofty masted and heavily sparred,
With stunsail booms to every yard,
And flying kites both high and low
To catch the wands when they did blow
(And away, my Clyde-built clipper!).
Fastest ship on the Colonies run--
(Away O, my racing clipper!)
That was her when her time begun;
Sixteen knots she could easily do,
And thirteen knots on a bowline too;
She could show her heels to anything made
With sky-sails set in a favouring trade,
Or when she was running her easting down
From London River to Hobart Town
(And away, my racing clipper!).
Old shellbacks knew her near and far
(Away O, my old-time clipper!)
From Circular Quay to Mersey Bar,
And many a thundering lie they told
About her runs in the days of old;
But the time did come and the time did go,
And she grew old as we all must grow,
And the most of her gear was carried away
When caught aback in a gale one day
(And away, my old-time clipper!).
Her masts were sprung from fore to mizen
(Away O, my poor old clipper!)
And freights was poor and dues had risen,
And there warn't no sense in rigging her new,
So they laid her up for a year or two;
And there they left her, and there she lay,
And there she might have been laying to-day,
But when cargoes are many and ships are few
A ship's a ship be she old or new
(And away, my poor old clipper!).
So in nineteen hundred and seventeen
(Away O, my brave old clipper!)
They've rigged her new and they've scraped her clean
And sent her to sea in time of war
To sail the seas as she sailed before.
And in nineteen hundred and seventeen
She's the same good ship as she's always been;
Her ribs are as staunch and her hull's as sound
As any you'd find the wide world round
(And away, my brave old clipper!).
The same as they were when she went to sea
(Away O, my Clyde-built clipper!)
In eighteen hundred and seventy-three,
Fine in the lines and keen in the bow,
The way they've forgotten to build 'em now;
Lofty masted and heavily sparred,
With stunsail booms to every yard,
And flying kites both high and low
To catch the winds when they did blow--
(And away, my Clyde-built clipper!).
C.F.S.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE LAST CRUSADE. COEUR-DE-LION (_looking down on the
Holy City_). "MY DREAM COMES TRUE!"]
* * * * *
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
_Monday, December 10th_.--One would gather from the hoardings that the
Government wished to encourage the sale of War Bonds by every possible
means. Yet the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER threw cold water on the
efforts of certain firms to increase the sale by the offer of cash
prizes, and thought it undesirable that this inducement should be
imitated. The advocates of Premium Bonds were a little depressed by
this announcement, but cheered up somewhat on observing that the
conscientious CHANCELLOR has no intention of refusing the millions
already raked into the Treasury by these "schemes of doubtful
legality."
[Illustration: THE BAD BOYS OF BROMPTON AND OXFORD STREETS.]
On the vote for an increase of fifty thousand men for the Navy Mr.
GEORGE LAMBERT solemnly announced that the Admiralty was "fumbling
with a magnificent weapon." It is distressing to think that a body
which for nearly ten years enjoyed his services as Civil Lord should
have deteriorated so rapidly since he left it.
Mr. LYNCH does not think much of the new scheme for securing unity
of effort among the Allies. He called it "the analogue of the Aulic
Council" (pronounced "Owlic," to give more effect to the description).
The Chequers Estate Bill passed through all its stages amid a chorus
of praise, despite the injunction of the generous donors that there
should be "no flowers."
_Tuesday, December 11th_.--After all, London is to have the BARNARD
statue, despite the protest of Lord CHARNWOOD, LINCOLN'S latest
biographer, that it is not a portrait of his hero, but of a man whose
only connection with the PRESIDENT was that he was born in the same
neighbourhood. Against this Lord WEARDALE quoted Mr. ROOSEVELT'S
description of the statue as "the Lincoln we all knew and loved."
As Mr. ROOSEVELT had reached the mature age of six when LINCOLN was
assassinated the COMMISSIONER OF WORKS seems to have regarded his
testimony as conclusive.
At the request of Mr. KING the Peers are to be allowed to listen to
the secret debates of the Commons, if any of them desire to do so.
The hon. Member having expressed a hope that the Peers would grant
reciprocal facilities to the Commons, Mr. HOGGE kindly suggested that
the Government should grant him "all the privileges of the House of
Lords." But Mr. BONAR LAW declined to deprive the House of Commons
in that way of one of its brightest ornaments; so the "Mad Hatter"
will not be called upon just yet awhile to exchange his traditional
headgear for a coronet.
I presume some Members of Parliament know what "non-ferrous metals"
are, and what is the object of the Bill which the Government has
introduced to deal with them. But the views which they took on the
subject were so obscurely divergent that all I could gather from the
debate was that in some way or other the measure was intended to be a
nasty knock for German trade. That was good enough for the House at
large, which passed the Second Reading by a substantial majority.
[Illustration: A HORRIBLE MENACE. MR. JOSEPH KING.]
_Wednesday, December 12th_.--Mr. PRINGLE, having asserted that
candidates for appointments under the War Office were successful
simply on account of possessing a "pull" with the Selection
Department, was quietly reminded by the UNDER-SECRETARY that he
himself had attempted to use his influence on behalf of a candidate.
Mr. PRINGLE was righteously indignant. He had never asked favours of
the War Office; he had merely "recommended men personally known to
me." This delicate distinction, which should have convinced Members
of Mr. PRINGLE'S disinterestedness, only made them laugh.
On the Vote of Credit for 550 millions the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER
was invited by Mr. DILLON to make a survey of the military situation.
He replied that all the relevant facts were known already. "The War
is going on; the Government and the country intend it shall go on;
and money is necessary to make it go on." It is, perhaps, a pity that
he did not content himself with this epitome and refuse to be drawn
into a discussion of the recent operations near Cambrai. What has
Mr. DILLON done to promote the prosecution of the War that he should
receive special consideration?
There was a renewed discussion of the censorship of pamphlets. Sir
GEORGE CAVE ably defended the regulations, but did not convince
everyone that his preference for confiscation over prosecution was
entirely sound. The idea that the publishers of these pamphlets would
welcome advertisement is probably erroneous, or why was it necessary
to insist that they should put their names to them?
Mr. SPENCER HUGHES'S humorous attack upon the CENSOR was much
applauded on the Liberal benches. Some of the more brilliant passages
would have received even wider appreciation if a good many Members had
not heard them a week before from the lips of Mr. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL at
a non-political luncheon.
_Thursday, December 13th_.--Lord BERESFORD charged the PRIME MINISTER
with having two voices, like _Caliban's_ monster. Lord CURZON
flatly declined to accept the suggestion that Cabinet Ministers
were collectively responsible for one another's speeches--"they had
far more serious things to think of." The phrase seems a little
depreciatory, but as Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, according to his candid
colleague, is "constitutionally an optimist" he will no doubt make
the best of it.
Mr. HOUSTON was informed that sweets "for military, naval or civil
consumption" were still being imported, but that the Ministry of
Shipping made no special provision for their carriage. No one,
therefore, need grudge Sir ERIC GEDDES the lozenge which he so
ostentatiously popped into his mouth just before making his speech
on Admiralty administration, or inquire too curiously whether it
was consumed by him in his capacity of Major-General, Vice-Admiral
or Civilian Minister.
Despite the warning of the SPEAKER that it was not in the national
interest to embarrass the Administration, Mr. KING insisted on trying
to discuss forbidden topics. At last Lord ROBERT CECIL "espied
strangers," and we must assume that, without the vivifying presence of
the reporters, Mr. KING'S oratory wilted, for an hour afterwards the
House was up.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Polite Stranger_. "EXCUSE MY TURNING MY BACK UPON YOU,
SIR."
_Curmudgeon_. "SIR, I KNOW OF NO OBLIGATION ON YOUR PART TO LOOK AT
ME."]
* * * * *
THE REWARD OF PATRIOTISM.
"Major ---- has placed the mansion at the disposal of the War Office,
and will be in charge of Sister ----."--_Provincial Paper_.
* * * * *
THINGS OVERHEARD IN WAR-TIME.
"There couldn't be room there for _all_ the Jews, could there?"
* * * * *
"After waiting two hours I got half-a-pound."
* * * * *
"It should be made compulsory."
* * * * *
"Wherever else these matches strike, they won't strike on the box."
* * * * *
"I just turned over and went to sleep again."
* * * * *
"I wish the Government would tell _me_ what I could do for them."
* * * * *
"Oh, another three years."
* * * * *
"What puzzles me is--Where is the paper shortage?"
* * * * *
"We keep a gramophone in the basement now."
* * * * *
"No one is more willing than I am to do something."
* * * * *
"It's the children's festival--that's what I always say."
* * * * *
HERBS OF GRACE.
IX.
PENNYROYAL.--A CAROL.
_"Far away in Sicily!"--
A home-come sailor sang this rhyme,
Deep in an ingle, mug on knee,
At Christmas time._
In Sicily, as I was told,
The children take them Pennyroyal,
The same as lurks on hill and wold
In Cotsall soil.
The Pennyroyal of grace divine
In little cradles they do weave--
Little cradles therewith they line
On Christmas Eve.
And there, as midnight bells awake
The Day of Birth, as they do tell,
All into bud the small plants break
With sweetest smell.
All into bud that very hour;
And pure and clean, as they do say,
The Pennyroyal's full in flower
On Christmas Day.
_Far away in Sicily!--
Hark, the Christmas bells do chime!
So blossom love in thee and me
This Christmas time!_
W.B.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Lady_ (_to uniformed friend_). "I SHOULDN'T A BIT
MIND WEARING UNIFORM IF ONLY ONE COULD CHOOSE ONE'S OWN COLOURS AT
THE WAR OFFICE."]
* * * * *
THE V.C.
My cousin Agatha has been a bad correspondent ever since she
married my old friend, George Thimblewell, which means for the past
five-and-twenty years, so in ordinary circumstances I do not expect
more from her than a "hasty line" to tell me how the youngsters are
doing (George, of course, never writes at all). But I must say I was
surprised and not a little hurt when, in the skimpy margin of a letter
dealing mainly with the difficulty of devising breakfast-dishes, she
scribbled in the most casual manner conceivable, "George has got the
V.C. at last."
George, my dear old school-chum, with the V.C., and his wife tells me
of it as casually as if it had been a gumboil! I sat with her letter
before me and looked back through the years, seeing us two--George
and myself--as we were long before Agatha even knew him. Had I not
fostered the yearning for heroic deeds in his young bosom? Was it not
possible, nay probable, that the influence of his boyhood's companion
had helped to mould his character and prepare it for this glorious if
belated achievement? Upon my word it seemed to me that I myself might
well take a certain amount of credit for that decoration. And here
was his wife mentioning it as though she scarcely expected me to be
interested. Never a date, never a detail.
I was so ruffled that I decided, since she vouchsafed no information,
to ask for none, as became a man with proper pride. I adopted a
semi-jocular vein to meet the case.
"I have known your V.C. longer than you have, Agatha," I wrote, "and
am as pleased and proud as you can be. The strong silent type--you can
rely upon them. Quiet and domesticated, requiring little attention,
helpful about the house, undemonstrative perhaps, but all the time
ready for the most desperate emergency. Let me know when George is
to be at home, and I shall come to dinner and hear all about it."
As I sealed my note it occurred to me that George must be the first
special constable to win the Cross, and I felt a glow of satisfaction
to realise that we must now be eligible for that most glorious of all
decorations.
A few days later came another note from Agatha, about sugar-cards this
time, but with a postscript which said, "It isn't like you to chaff
me, James. I don't see that there is anything particularly funny about
George having got the Vacuum Cleaner which he promised me long ago."
* * * * *
BIG GAME.
"General Allenby reports that Budrus and Sheikh Obeid Rahid, to
the north of Midieh, were captured by Gurkhas, 50 Tanks being
killed and 10 taken prisoners."--_Evening Paper_.
* * * * *
"Ruler wanted, experienced, male or female (male preferred); wages
according to ability; removal assistance; away from raid area;
permanency to suitable applicant."--_Eastern Daily Press_.
This might suit the KAISER, when Sir DOUGLAS HAIG has provided the
necessary "removal assistance."