Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, May 14, 1919 by Various
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, May 14, 1919
"Porkhound," yelled the stranger, "do you defy me? me, Count Achtung
von Eisenbahn? Give me the babe. I must have him. I will have him. He
is ours--our Prince Fritz, the last of the Hohenzollerns."
The great moment had come. Jones's face lit up. Death--a hero's
death--might claim him, but he would make democracy safe for the
world.
"Last of the Hohenzollerns!" he shouted; "then, by Jove, this is going
to be the last of _him_." And with a yell of triumph he hurled the
infant out into the night.
From the child in its trajectory came a long ear-splitting shriek,
followed by a gentle wailing.
Mr. Jones sat up and blinked his eyes. The professorial gentleman was
still in the far corner; the lady was still opposite him; the child
was wailing softly.
The lady smiled. "I'm afraid baby has broken your nap. A passing
express frightened him."
"Not at all," murmured Mr. Jones incoherently, searching for his
novel, the one solace left amid the ruin of his dreams.
"Pardon me," said the lady, "but if you are looking for your book you
threw it out of the window just before you woke up."
Mr. Jones sank back resignedly. His glory had gone, his book had gone.
Once again he settled himself in his corner to sleep--perchance to
dream.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "JACKY, DEAR, YOUR HANDS ARE FRIGHTFULLY DIRTY."
"NOT 'FRIGHTFULLY,' MUMMY. A LOT OF THAT'S SHADING."]
* * * * *
STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF THE GERMAN ENVOYS.
"Five minutes later the German plenipotentiaries reappeared,
dived into Allied representatives, emerged, jumped into their
car and drove off."--_Dublin Evening Mail_.
* * * * *
CHANT ROYAL OF CRICKET.
When earth awakes as from some dreadful night
And doffs her melancholy mourning state,
When May buds burst in blossom and requite
Our weary eyes for Winter's tedious wait,
Then the pale bard takes down his dusty lyre
And strikes the thing with more than usual fire.
Myself, compacted of an earthier clay,
I oil my bats and greasy homage pay
To Cricket, who, with emblems of his court,
Stumps, pads, bails, gloves, begins his Summer sway.
Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport.
As yet no shadows blur the magic light,
The glamour that surrounds the opening date.
Illusions yet undashed my soul excite
And of success in luring whispers prate.
I see myself in form; my thoughts aspire
To reach the giddy summit of desire.
Lovers and such may sing a roundelay,
Whate'er that be, to greet returning May;
For me, not much--the season's all too short;
I hear the mower hum and scent the fray.
Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport.
A picture stands before my dazzled sight,
Wherein the hero, ruthlessly elate,
Defies all bowlers' concentrated spite.
That hero is myself, I need not state.
'Tis sweet to see their captain's growing ire
And his relief when I at last retire;
'Tis sweet to run pavilionwards and say,
"Yes, somehow I _was_ seeing them to-day"--
Thus modesty demands that I retort
To murmured compliments upon my play.
Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport.
The truth's resemblance is, I own, but slight
To these proud visions which my soul inflate.
This is the sort of thing: In abject fright
I totter down the steps and through the gate;
Somehow I reach the pitch and bleat, "Umpire,
Is that one leg?" What boots it to inquire?
The impatient bowler takes one grim survey,
Speeds to the crease and whirls--a lightning ray?
No, a fast yorker. Bang! the stumps cavort.
Chastened, but not surprised, I go my way.
Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport.
Lord of the Game, for whom these lines I write,
Fulfil my present hope, watch o'er my fate;
Defend me from the swerver's puzzling flight;
Let me not be run out, at any rate.
As one who's been for years a constant trier,
Reward me with an average slightly higher;
Let it be double figures. This I pray,
Humblest of boons, before my hair grows grey
And Time's flight bids me in the last resort
Try golf, or otherwise your cause betray.
Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport.
King, what though Age's summons I obey,
Resigned to dull rheumatics and decay,
Still on one text my hearers I'll exhort,
As long as hearers within range will stay:
"Cricket in sooth is Sovran King of Sport."
* * * * *
"Royal Horse Guards.--Captain (acting Marquis) W.B. Marquis of
Northampton resigns his commission."--_Provincial Paper_.
But retains, we trust, his acting rank.
* * * * *
SPRING MODES AT MURMANSK.
We, the enthusiasts of the Relief Force who sailed from England with
the fine phrases of the Evening Press ringing in our ears have arrived
at Murmansk, only to be disappointed and disillusioned. It is not that
the expedition looks less attractive than it did, or that our leaders
fail to inspire us with confidence. It is because the gilt has
disappeared from the sartorial gingerbread of our adventure.
Why did we leap forward to volunteer before we were wanted and
continue to leap till, for very boredom, they sent us embarcation
orders and a free warrant? Was it simply to escape an English Spring?
Was it not rather that we might win our furs--might wear the romantic
outfit which we were led to believe was _de rigueur_ in the most
exclusive circle, namely, the Arctic? What was the first remark of our
female relatives when we showed them the War Office telegram? Was it
not, "Of course you must be photographed in your furs and things?"
No wonder, after the monotony of khaki, if we looked forward to the
glory and distinction of fur-lined caps and coats, Shackleton boots,
huge snow-goggles and enormous gloves turning hands to savage paws.
And now what spectacle greets us at Murmansk, with everybody's camera
cleared for action? What is the example set by those to whom we
naturally look for light and leading? Behold the General and his Staff
coming on board in the snow-reflected sunshine flashing with the gold
and scarlet trimmings of Whitehall. And what of the old residents, our
comrades? They are playing football in shorts and sweaters.
The genial R.T.O. cheered us up a little and kept the more resolute
of our Arctic heroes in countenance by sporting a magnificent and
irresistible fur head-dress; but an R.T.O. can do what would be
regarded as nerve in you and me; and, moreover, here is the A.P.M.
in the familiar flat cap, encircled with the traditional colour of
authority.
Even the nice little Laplander and his lady, driving in to do
shopping, drawn on a sleigh by a nicely-matched trio of reindeer, was
sitting on more furs than he or Mrs. L. were wearing; while even the
naked team seemed to feel the heat oppressive.
I suppose we have come too late in the year for the romance of skins
and ski, and must condescend to the familiar gum-boot until the
mosquito season opens and a man may design some becoming effect in
muslin.
Of course there is still plenty of snow to be photographed against in
the full splendour of a Hyperborean disguise; but is it worth while to
unpack one's valise for that? And anyhow would not the atmosphere of
the picture be marred, the pose of the explorer be rendered unnatural
by his consciousness of insincerity and his fear of imminent
suffocation?
So the Photographic Press of England must bear their loss as best they
may.
* * * * *
"Dear Sir,--Mr. Gould has authorised this committee to hereby
and of this date relinquish the title of world's open champion
at tennis. He feels it is inexpedient for him to defend his
title."--_Field_.
It is understood that he is afraid that the strain might make him
split another infinitive.
* * * * *
"Mr. Siddons Kemble, a young Bensonian actor, who plays the
part of 'A Poet' in 'Cyrano,' is the great-great-grandson of
the actress Sarah Siddons and her equally famous brothers,
John Phillip Kemble, Charles Kemble and Henry Stephen
Kemble."--_Evening News_.
There must have been a remarkable amount of close intermarriage in the
KEMBLE family.
* * * * *
ROYAL ACADEMY--FIRST DEPRESSIONS.
[Illustration: _Ulysses (disillusioned)._ "FULL SPEED AHEAD!"]
[Illustration: _Sir William Bull (to Mr. Hacker)_. "I WARN YOU THAT IF
THIS ASH FALLS IT MAY THROW ME OFF MY BALANCE."]
[Illustration: "PULVIS ET UMBRA."
_Excited Spectator_. "TWO TO ONE ON UMBRA."]
[Illustration: _Disgusted Artist_. "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF MY TRYING TO
PAINT HER WHEN SHE KEEPS ON FALLING ASLEEP?" ]
[Illustration: "OH, DO HURRY UP AND FINISH! I'M GROWING OUT OF MY
CLOTHES."]
[Illustration: _The Donkey_. "LET THEM FACE THE CAMERA IF THEY LIKE.
FOR MY PART, I'M AT MY BEST IN PROFILE."]
[Illustration: _The Right Hon. Mr. Justice Darling_. "NO, THIS IS
_NOT_ A JOKE!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Cynical Taxi-driver._ "HERE!--HI!--ME LORD! YOU'VE
MADE A MISTAKE--YOU'VE GIVE ME TUPPENCE TOO MUCH!"]
* * * * *
THE COOK.
(_With acknowledgments to TENNYSON and CALVERLEY_.)
Urged by the Government, with loyal step
I to the Labour Bureau made my way
To find a cook; and there beheld a queen,
Tall, fair, arrayed in feathers and in fur
And all things beautiful. Whom when I saw,
"Madam," said I, "they tell me, who should know,
That you have skill of Mrs. Beeton's art.
If that be so--" She nodded "Yes," and I
Assumed a courage, though I had it not,
And spoke again: "Then tell me, if you will,
Of your experience and past career.
Whence come you?" And the cook--why not?--replied:
"I come from haunts of bomb and shell,
I've toyed with lathes and gauges,
I've sparkled out a sudden swell
With quite unheard-of wages.
"By thirty shops I've paused to buy
Silk stockings, skirts and undies,
In fifty stores I've sat to try
Smart tango boots for Sundays.
"Down Bond Street gaily would I float,
Buy chairs, pianos, tables,
With here and there a sealskin coat,
And here and there some sables.
"I'd slip, I'd slide, I'd jazz, I'd glide,
I'd fox-trot, one- and two-step,
And show with pardonable pride
My skill at every new step.
"I'd dance until my soles wore raw,
When, tired of dissipation,
I'd lie in bed whole weeks and draw
My out-of-work donation.
"And when that palled I'd rise to see
What fortunes cooks are earning,
And how the ladies long for me
With dumb pathetic yearning.
"I flit about, I skip, I roam
Through houses past the telling,
Through many a stately ducal home,
And many a Mayfair dwelling.
"I chatter in the servants' hall,
I make a sudden sally,
And with the parlourmaid I brawl
Or bicker with the valet.
"I murmur under moon and stars
With blue and khaki lovers,
I linger in resplendent bars
With golden taxi shuvvers.
"But out again I come and know
That Fate will fail me never,
For wars may come and wars may go,
But cooks go on for ever."
* * * * *
"SUN ECLIPSE IN MAY.
WIRELESS OPERATORS' HELP ASKED."
_Daily Paper_.
We ought all to put our shoulders to the wheel and make this Victory
Eclipse a big thing.
* * * * *
"All the Lumpkins are clever and some of them are
brilliant.... The head of the family, Lord Durham, is an
exceptionally ready and witty man."--_The Globe._
Readers of GOLDSMITH may suggest that _Anthony Lumpkin, Esq_., was
not a brilliant Lumpkin; but it may well be that he was only distantly
connected with that branch of the family from which Lord DURHAM traces
his descent. In this connection a correspondent suggests the following
train of thought: Lambton--Lambkin--Lump(ofcoal)kin.
* * * * *
"We stand at the noon of the greatest day the world has seen,
with all the hideous darkness of the night behind and all the
glory of the dawn before."
_Mr. Arthur MEE in "Lloyd's News_."
It looks as if the dawn would be a day late.
* * * * *
[Illustration: GERMANY DRAWS THE PEN.
"IT'S NOT EXACTLY A SABRE, BUT I DARESAY I CAN CONTRIVE TO KEEP IT
RATTLING FOR A BIT."]
* * * * *
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
_Monday, May 5th_.--Sir AUCKLAND GEDDES is the maid-of-all-work of the
Ministry. Deputising for the PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF TRADE he had
an opportunity of displaying an encyclopaedic knowledge which fully
justified his position as President-elect of a Canadian University.
Mr. JOYNSON-HICKS probably thought he had floored him with a poser on
"gas-scrubbing," but Sir AUCKLAND knew all about it.
He is discreet as he is erudite. An inquiry about meat-imports
elicited plenty of information about "ewe-mutton" and "wether-mutton,"
but not a word about the Manchurian and other exotic beef recently
foisted upon London consumers.
Mr. REMER is one of the most attractive and enterprising of the new
Members. But I am afraid, despite his cheery appearance, that he is
a bit of a pessimist. With Peace believed to be so near, it was
distinctly depressing to find him calling attention to the danger of
a deficiency of pit-props "in any future war," and refusing to be put
off with the usual official answer, "in view of the urgency of the
question."
There are few topics which excite more general interest in the House
than the shortage of whisky. When, in reply to a complaint by Colonel
THORNE that a firm of Scotch distillers had refused to furnish their
customers with adequate supplies, Mr. GEORGE ROBERTS remarked that
he would like to be supplied with "specific cases," he was, no doubt
unconsciously, expressing an almost universal desire.
Before the War, as we learned from Mr. ILLINGWORTH, Government offices
used to send on the average about forty thousand telegrams a month. At
the end of it the number had risen to close on a million. Much of the
increase is due, no doubt, to zeal for the rapid despatch of public
business, but some, one fears, to the natural tendency of dug-outs
(even in Whitehall) to protect themselves with wire-entanglements.
If one were to believe all that the Scottish Members said about
their own country in the debate upon the Housing (Scotland) Bill Dr.
JOHNSON'S gibes would be abundantly justified. Half the population,
according to Sir DONALD MACLEAN, are living in such over-crowded
conditions that the wonder is that any of the children survive to
man's estate, and still more that they retain sufficient energy to run
most of the British Empire. But in the circumstances a certain amount
of exaggeration may be forgiven. When it is a case of touching the
Imperial Exchequer for local advantage the Scot is no whit behind the
Irishman in "making the poor face."
_Tuesday, May 6th_.--The Scottish peers are no less impressed with the
miserable condition of their country, Lord FORTEVIOT declared that in
the Western Hebrides the housing accommodation was no better than the
caves of primitive man. Yet these cave-dwellers furnished some of
the stoutest recruits to the British army. Perhaps it was their early
experience that made them so much at home in the trenches.
Their lordships gave a Second Reading to the Solicitors' Bill,
designed to enable the Incorporated Law Society to punish as well
as try offending attorneys, instead of leaving their sentences to
be determined by a Divisional Court. The LORD CHANCELLOR and Lord
BUCKMASTER were of one mind in thinking that the measure would
be enthusiastically welcomed by the lower branch of their
profession--presumably on the principle of "Better the devil you know
than the devil you don't know."
[Illustration: _Mr. G.H. Roberts_. "I COME TO BURY FOOD CONTROL--ALSO
TO PRAISE IT."]
The issue of an official pamphlet on "The Classics in British
Education" aroused the wrath of Colonel YATE, who contemptuously asked
what "suchlike subjects" had to do with reconstruction. Before the
Minister could answer, Sir JOHN REES, fearing lest all Anglo-Indians
should be thought to hold the same cultural standard, jumped to his
feet to declare that he had read the pamphlet and found it admirable.
Of all the new Departments instituted during the War the Food Ministry
has best justified its existence. Mr. GEORGE ROBERTS'S account of its
activities was very well received, and many regrets were expressed
that he should have come to bury CAESAR as well as to praise him.
Mr. CLYNES, to whom and the late Lord RHONDDA much of the Ministry's
success was due, was particularly insistent on the need of some
permanent Government control, to counter the machinations of the
food-trusts.
The chief criticisms of the Ministry related to its milk-policy, and
these were appropriately dealt with by Mr. MCCURDY.
_Wednesday, May 7th_.--In Downing Street apparently Mesopotamia is not
regarded as a "blessed word," for when Colonel WEDGWOOD asked whether
that country, after its future status had been decided, would be taken
out of the hands of the Foreign Office Mr. CECIL HARMSWORTH fervently
replied, "I hope so!"
I wonder whether Sir DAVID BEATTY, now enjoying a well-earned holiday
on the Riviera, is as grateful as he ought to be to Commander BELLAIRS
for trying to get him back into harness. He has been promised both by
Mr. BALFOUR and Mr. LONG the reversion of Sir ROSSLYN WEMYSS' post
as First Sea Lord as soon as it is vacant. But no immediate change is
contemplated. Meantime it is pleasant to learn from Mr. LONG that the
late C.-in-C. of the Grand Fleet "has been consulted on Naval policy
since the Armistice." So he is not yet quite forgotten.
A new form of wireless telegraphy has been invented by the Post Office
officials. When really urgent messages are handed in for transmission
to Paris they despatch them by passenger train; they find this method
much quicker than cabling.
An attempt by Sir DONALD MACLEAN to draw attention to the recent
exploits of the LORD LIEUTENANT OF IRELAND in the field of Journalism
was severely suppressed by the SPEAKER, who perhaps thinks that the
less said about them the better. It seems a pity that the Press Censor
should have been demobilised just when his famous blue pencil might
have been really useful.
Recognising that in the present temper of the House a frontal attack
upon Imperial Preference was a forlorn hope the Free Traders sought to
destroy it by an enfilading fire. But their ingenious attempt, in
the alleged interest of the consumer, to extend to China tea the same
reduction as to the product of India and Ceylon was easily defeated.
Mr. CHAMBERLAIN means to have no Chinks in his armour.
_Thursday, May 8th_.--When the Ministry of Health Bill was in the
Commons some objection was raised to the multiplicity of powers
conferred upon it. But if certain noble lords could have their way the
measure would become a veritable octopus, stretching its absorptive
tentacles over all the Departments of State. It would take over the
inspectorship of factories from the Home Office, the control of quack
medicines from the Privy Council and the relief of the poor from the
Local Government Board. Fortunately for Dr. ADDISON the Government
refused to throw these further burdens upon him. After all, DISRAELI'S
famous phrase, "_Sanitas sanitatum omnia sanitas_," must not be
translated too literally.
Members were all agog to hear what the Government might have to say
about the Peace-terms announced this morning. Mr. BOTTOMLEY challenged
the adequacy of the financial provisions, but the HOME SECRETARY
evidently felt unequal to a controversy with so great an expert in
money-matters, and requested him to wait for his "big brother," Mr.
BONAR LAW.
A proposal by Mr. SYDNEY ARNOLD to raise the limit of exemption from
income-tax from L130 to L250 was strongly backed by the Labour Party.
In resisting it the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER pointed out that the
Labour Party had opposed indirect taxation and now they were opposing
direct taxation. In what form did they consider that working-men
should contribute to the expenses of their country? No answer to this
blunt question was forthcoming.
* * * * *
THE CHILDREN'S BELLS.
[The Bells of St, Clement's, which have been too much out of
order to ring for many years, are now being restored. It is
hoped they will be ready to ring the Peace in.]
Where are your oranges?
Where are your lemons?
What, are you silent now,
Bells of St. Clement's?
You, of all bells that rang
Once in old London,
You, of all bells that sang,
Utterly undone?
You whom the children know
Ere they know letters,
Making Big Ben himself
Call you his betters?
Where are your lovely tones,
Fruitful and mellow,
Full-flavoured orange-gold,
Clear lemon-yellow?
Ring again, sing again,
Bells of St. Clement's!
Call as you swing again,
"Oranges! Lemons!"
Fatherless children
Are listening near you;
Sing for the children--
The fathers will hear you.
* * * * *
[Illustration: FROM FIELD-MARSHAL TO JOURNALIST.
LORD FRENCH'S PROMOTION.]
* * * * *
MUSICAL RECONSTRUCTION.
_(By our Special Reporter, who is also busy with the Coal
Commission)_.
At the meeting of the Musical Reconstruction Commission last Saturday
the President, Mr. Justice Bland, announced the resignation of Mr.
Patrick Horan, an Irish choirmaster, owing to the results of his
adjudicating between the competing Sinn Fein brass bands at a "Feis,"
or festival, held at Athlone on Easter Monday. Mr. Justice Bland said
that he felt sure he was interpreting the feelings of all the
members of the Commission in uniting to express regret at Mr. Horan's
resignation and hope for his speedy recovery from his injuries.
Continuing, the President said he had received a letter from the
Minister of Music, informing him that Sir Hercules Plunkett, K.B.E.,
Chairman of the Amalgamated Society of Mandolin, Balalaika and
Banjo-makers, had been invited to fill the vacant place.
Mr. Tony Hole, Scriabin Fellow of Syndicalist Economics at Caius
College, Cambridge, then presented a memorandum on the Guild Control
of Composers on the bagis of a forty-hour week, with equal opportunity
for performance, the economic use of orchestral resources and the
preferential treatment of Russian folk-tunes as thematic material.
All members of the Guild should receive the same salary free of
income tax; all performances should be free, and applause or encores
prohibited as likely to lead to the rupture of artistic solidarity.
The profits from the sale of programmes should go into the National
Exchequer, but should be earmarked for a Pension Fund for the relief
of composers on their compulsory retirement at the age of sixty.
Examined by Sir Leonardo Spaghetti Coyne, Mr. Hole said that he was
not aware that the mortality among monkeys employed in the piano-organ
industry during the late War was excessive. But he agreed that
the fearlessness shown by the monkeys at the Zoo in the course of
air-raids deserved a special decoration.
Mr. William Susie, who next occupied the chair, was examined by
Mr. Moody MacTear on the question of the nationalisation of Royalty
Ballads.
Mr. MacTear, quoting an estimate by a Fellow of the
Thermaero-statistical Society, that the ballad composers of the
country could produce one hundred and ninety thousand million ballads
in five hundred and eighty years, asked the witness whether it would
be legitimate that a royalty charge should be made on every ballad
produced during that period for the benefit of certain individuals of
future generations. Mr. Susie replied that the State had recognised
the right of royalties and therefore he saw no good reason for
discontinuing the charge.
_Mr. Gladney Jebb_. Are you aware that there have been more cases of
influenza amongst people who have attended Royalty Ballad concerts
in 1918 than amongst all the troops who served on the Palestine Front
since 1916? Mr. Susie challenged Mr. Jebb to produce his statistics,
and it was arranged, at the suggestion of the President, that Mr. Jebb
should be given facilities to proceed to Jericho and collect them.
After the luncheon interval Mr. Cyril Blunt read a report, which he
had prepared at the request of the Commission, on the Nationalisation
of the Folk-song Industry. He said that it was a scandalous paradox
that this natural and obvious reform had hitherto been successfully
resisted by unscrupulous individualistic action. Folk-tunes were
the product of and belonged to the People, but they had been seized,
exploited and perverted by composers, who should be forced to refund
the profits they had derived from their robbery. The conservation of
our national musical resources should be jealously guarded, and the
collection, notation and harmonisation of these tunes carried on under
rigorous State supervision. At the same time the State might issue
licences for the symphonic use of folk-tunes, the profits from the
sale of these licences to be devoted to the maintenance of village
festivals, at which only genuine folk-music should be performed by the
oldest inhabitants.