PUNCH

Vol. CXLVI. JANUARY-JUNE, 1914.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 10, BOUVERIE STREET,

AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1914.

Bradbury, Agnew & Co.. Ld.,

Printers, London and Tonbridge.

PUNCH'S ALMANACK FOR 1911.

by far the. most fluid and

reliable inks in the world.

9

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Januarg
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S	3	10	17	2431		S	7	14	21	28	'			S	1 12	19	20

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE WAR IN THE AIR.

n/fcrn (ire oist/'i'd/ion balloon}. " I SAY, ABS YOU THEKE? I THINK YOU'D BETTEE GET ME DOWN, I'M HOT DOBS' A BIT OP GOOD, AN' THEY 'RE SIMPLY BUININ' THE BALLY BALLOON! "

Native of Sierra Leone. " TLLO, JACK; ANY NEWS FROM 'OME?"

A.B. "'OME? WOT D' YOU KNOW ABOUT 'OME? YOUR 'OME 's UP THAT BLOOMIN' PALM TREE!"

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE. LION-TAMER'S WIFE HAS A NARROW ESCAPE.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

M-'%/ V

1< ilt Injured One (continuing long tale of woe). "AND THE BURGLARS HAD RANSACKED EYEBS DBAWEB IN ur DBESSING-TABLE AND

ATTEUE'D- EVERYTHING IN A MOST ABOMINABLE LITTER ALL OVEll THR FMOR ! "

SCATTERED- EVEr.VTHING IN A MOST ABOMINABLE LITTER ALL OVEH THE FLOOR 1 '

Bored Listener. "YES, UNTIDY CREATURES; NO WONDER THEY 'nr. UNPOPULAR."

TTV

IN A RASH MOMENT HANS BLUTHSTKIN IS REQUESTED TO PLAY HE IMPROVISES, PALLS IN -LOVE WITH HIS THEME AND FORGETS TO THAT NO ONE DARES IO INTERRUPT HIM.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

A REVISED VERSION.

'Jantijcr (at rehearsal). "Now THEN, 'ON HEARING THE NEWS THE QUEEN FALLS FAINTING IN THE ARMS OF A SOLDIER.'"

1 ;1A &T

^ $

"TAKE A BEST AND LET'S HAVE A DIFFERENT SOLDIER."

fZ^,

The Autlwr. " I 'VE GOT IT! "

c

J

^>

'ON HEARING THE NEWS THE QUEEN FALLS FAINTING IN THE ARMS OF THE SOLDIERS [PH7B.4Z,] . ' "

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

MINCE MEAT. (By our Charivarieiy Artiste.) THE choice of a Christmas present is

ing a " Madonna by RAPHAEL." " A copy, I presume," ho said, "of the fam- ous picture in the National Gallery ? " 'Well, to tell tho truth," whispered the

always a matter of some difuculty. dealer, "and between you and I, I'm

The thoughtless youth who sent a lady not so sure that the one in the National

acquaintance a little

volume recently is-

sued, entitled, " How

to be Beautiful," baa

lost a friend.

Tcmporamutantur. Not only is headway being made by the proposal that the time of our summer holidays shall be changed, br.t it is now suggested that Christmas shall bo held in August instead of in Decem- ber. It is felt that it would 1 c more satis- factory if Christmas Cards with pictures of snow and ic,' ar- rived on a .sweltering summer day than at a lime when one is trying to keep warm.

A correspondent who writes from Ilamvell mentions that he is at work on an article on the history of Christmas Cards. He lias made a careful search but can find no mention of them in literature of tho n.c. period, and would be grate- ful if anyone could help him in this respect.

* •',•

It occurred in a little third-rate curi- osity shop in a little third-rate street. A prospective pur- chaser was examin-

Gallery is the original, and that 's why

1 can't take less than ten shillings I " i

* *

We are asked to say why artificial ey.es are made of glass. The answer is, so that you can see through them.

T FELLTIV LIKE YOU BEGGING."

Ci '/ ulent Tramp. "ME STOUTNESS 'AS BKF.-< MK DOWNFALL, HDY. I USED TO PLAY

TIIK BIG IMIU.M, BIT I LOST ME JOB. Yi:il SEK I COULDN'T 'iT IT IN THE MIDIM.K."

The gentle art of making conversa-' tion. Tho young Albert was told to go and talk to another1 small bo 3' whose mother had brought him to tea with her. " What's your name ? " asked A1-. bcrt. "Wilfrid," came the answer. "How old'.'" " Five and a half." A pause — Land then, "A bach- elor, I prelim f?

-!- '•','•

"Well, Kir," said the wig-maker, " I will only say this about the quality of our goods, that a customer of ours went the other day !o a barber's to be shaved, and the operator, misunder- standing him, began to cut his hair ! "

The toast of the Guest of tho Even- ing— a pale, nervous young man with long hair — had been drunk, and " For he 's a jolly good fellow ! " was being sung, but in a half- hearted manlier. At which up jumped the resourcefulchainnn.il and, raising his hand, " Try this," ho said: " ' For he's a /<(/>,'?/ good fellow ! ' " It went much better then.

AN ANTIDOTE FOE CHRISTMAS. IF Boxing Day finds you dyspeptic and worn

And a little hit peevish perhaps; If Christmas has left you fail- reason to mourn

Some sad ^astronomical lapse ; Come out acioss country — the going is good —

And your festal-board sin you may shrive, For the beagles are meeting at Waddincton Wood At 12.45.

There 's dew on the meadow, there 's scent with a sting,

There 's wire (don't forget) in the fence, There 's sport with the " jelly dogs " fit for a king,

Though a " cap " is your only expense ;

There 's a hare in the roots, there 's a holloa, a view,

And the pack like a torrent is running, - And there 'Jl always be glimpses of "hound work" for you , . If you like to run cunning.

If the puddingy plough tries your patience and pluck

You can make up a lot down the hill, And, helped by a check and a "circle," with luck

You can shout your " Whoo-whoop " at the kill ; Though hot and dishevelled and palpably blown,

And mud-spattered up to your middle, A Boxing Day run with the beagles, you '11 own, Makes you fit as a fiddle.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

A FEW PROMISED STRIKES FOR THE NEW YEAR.

IIOVSF.HOLDEB GREETING A GROUP OF PICKETS DURING THE STRIKE OF BATE-COLLECTORS.

BUTCHERS' ASSISTANTS ON STRIKE MOUNTING GUARD OVEH

A FINK UUl.I.OCK.

NSSWSPAPEB FRornrETOns MEET THE DELEGATES OF THE NEWSBOYS' UNION.

XAr, BOXF.B SKCONDINO HIMSELF HECAUSH ALL THE SECONDS HAVE STRUCK.

POLICEMEN ON STRIKE WATCHING BURGLARS

JtKMOVING A SAFE.

CLEBGY ON STRIKE PREVENTING A BLACKLEG TAKING A SERVICE.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

DANCING NOTES.

TEN YEARS AGO.

TO-DAY.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

DANCING NOTES.

TEN YEARS AGO— 11.30 p.m. .

JIf. '-WELL, I surrosK IF WE 'BE GOING TO THE DUMPSHIHES' DANCE WE 'D BETTER BE STARTING. "

She. "No HURRY. No USE GETTIN' THERE BEFORE TWELVE; THEY WON'T BE HAVIN' BUFFER BEFORE THEN.

TO-DAY— 4.10 p.m.

Guests. "I SAY, WE 'RE A BIT LATE, I 'M AFRAID. THE MOTOR BROKE DOWN, OR WE'D HAVE BEEN HEBE ON THE DOT." Hostess. "BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. I DESSAY YOU'LL FIND SOME PARTNERS; IF NOT YOU'LL HAVE TO DANCE WITH EACH OTHER. GLAD TJ HAVE SEEN YOU — TA-TA."

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

UNKNOWN LONDON.

EXPULSION OF A MEMBEB FBOM A FASHIOXABLH WEST-HTD CLUB.

KAMMER5MITH

EMMiiMl WALHAM

COXDL'CTOKS OF L'SDEEGEOUXD E.ULWAYS LEAENINO THE MISPBOXCSCIATIOS OF THE HAMES OF STATION'S.

BRITISH MUSEUM OFFICIALS REFUSING TO ACCEPT A COLLECTION.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

UNKNOWN LONDON.

I5ACK ENTBAJfCi; TO A LABGE

EMPORIUM. SHOP ASSISTANTS SUFFEB A EEACTIOX FROM TUEIR CUSTOMAHY MGNII1C.

Tin: CATACOMBS AT THE LAW COURTS. WITIIDIIAWINQ A JUROB.

S WAITING TO IN'TKRVIEW \VAIt OFI'ICK AUT1IOHITI KS.

Punch's AlmanacR for 1914.

THE LITTLE SITTER.

[Reflections of a sportsman who is given a, day o.'T for golf in the midst of ;: ^ cod shoots.]

As, for example. . . Topped the thing ! Tm.fut!

Ye~. force of habit ; must have swung loo ijuick ; ?'.Iistcok its whilene-.s for a <•< p.ey's scut

And shot a bit ahead — a useful trick With targets on the run, hut not with t! •> That keep a linn repose.

So to 't again. . . Ah! hit the silly ground !

I took my eve off, did I? Then I erred By sporting instinct; I have never found

Much good was done by dwelling on a bird. Of course, a ball is different ; as you say, It wouldn't move away.

Now for another. . . That 's a fairish knock,

Full in the tail-piece. Mark him, mark him down! A runnel' — in the gorso there. Where 's old Hock '' 1 hate this dog's work. . . Bang goes half-a-crown ! 1 might have laid a score of pheasants Hat For less expense than that.

A TiircE to blood' To-day with careless breast The jocund cock shall laugh as though 'twere Juri

The partridge gives his jumpy nerves a rest; The pigeon wheel above his woods immune ;

No feathered thing shall curse, in act to die, My fatal gift of eye.

A truce to blood! To-day no squatting hare On my account shall prick an anxious ear ;

No rabbit, issuing from his earthy lair, Review the scene to note if I am near :

No beater, as he hears my weapon's blast, Regret his godless past.

All these, I say, shall have this one day off.

Yet not for their convenience alone I take this little interlude of golf —

The game has pleasant features all its own ; Less sudden in its joys, it suits, I find, My tranquil cast of mind.

Birds are so restive — always prone to flight.

Compare with them this sedentary ball That waits upon my pleasure, sitting tight,

And not concerned about itself at all ; Making it optional for me to strike Just when, and where, 1 like.

0

[After losinij his tamper and three more balls, the speaker resumes :

Frankly, your golf is not a sportsman's

game;

It hurts my liner British sense to hit A stationary mark, too small and tamo To stand a chance against my strength and

wit ;

I do not caro to strike at little tilings With neither legs nor wings.

.Match mo with foes more mobile, more my

si/.e —

The raging hare, the rabbit on the prowl, The partridge swooping under windy skies,

The savage duck and other desperate fowl — That lend a larger scope for manly skill

Than yonder paltry pill. O. S.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Family Ghost. "NOTHING — NOTHING WILL CLEANSE THESE HANDS OF THEIR AWFUL STAIN."

Mr. Ponlis (the soap millionaire — a guest). " LOOK 'ERE, NAME YEII FIGGEB FOR ALWAYS ADDIN', 'EXCEPT PONKS'S SOAP-

FIVEPENC:; PER TABLET; BOX O1 THREF., ONE SHILLIN'.'"

Stranger. "I DREAMT LAST NIGHT I WAS srrnNa AT A TABLE COVERED wiv ROAST TURKEY-, SAUSAGES, PIES, A LOVELY PLUM

PUDDING AND FOAMING BEER IN JUGS. I WAS JUST GOING TO HAVE THE MEAL OF MY LIFK WHEN I WOKE I " Policeman. "WELL,

WOT ARE YOU TELLIN' MB ABAHT IT FOR?" Stranger. "I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED THE SORT O1 BLOKE WOT *UD SYMPATHISE!"

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

AN INTELLIGENT NUMBER-FLATE.

-r.

LUCK AT THE RACES.

Gipsy. "LET ME TELL YKR FUTURE, PHETTY CKSTLEUAS."

Pretty Gentleman. "No! CLEAB OUT OP IT. I rox'i WAST TO KNOW .MY

(tipsy. "TlIEN LET ME T3LL YER 'iDEOUS PAST I "

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

•Knry( finding broad hints of no avail}. " LOCK 'ERE, 'EBBEBT, TO PUT IT BLUNTLY, YOU'RE A PBOPOS\ Two's COMPANY AXD

•JIIRKK 'S NONE."

Tender-hearted Lady. "I KEVF.B TAKE CAVIARE. I THINK IT so CRUKL TO THE roou ODOSK.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

'

T\e Hon. JOHN COLLIER obliges w?iti\

fev? PROBLEM Sj

Sir OLIVER LODGE, Ae Wizard of "TH.e CAVE

cater for the Sportsman.

rimmng Competttfon.

MR. PUNCH'S CHRISTMAS BAZAAR AND FANCY FAIR.

SOME SIDE SHOWS.

J of the. Shamrock

\neeff~tnayoe obtained framwe

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

f ?ir CLEMENT SHORTER gyrates gratefully uf on the SpKere.

Sir EDWARD GREY, Prestidigitatfeur, produces doves from unlikely places.

'Patriotic.

<Ballaa Vocalist!.

in affendance) & MfHALL CAlAlE executi each a

tnodesf solo on his favourite instfumenf.

MR. PUNCH'S CHRISTMAS BAZAAR AND FANCY FAIR.

THE CAFE CHANT ANT AND VARIETY ENTERTAINMENT.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE HALO THEY GIVE THEMSELVES.

[NOTE. — Mr. Punch i.i in the extraordinarily fortunate position of being able to present to his readers a story specially written for him by Mrs. I'YoKESc'i-: BAHCT.AY (author of Tit" /fm/.vu Halo and other imperishable works) and Mr. HAT.!, CAINE .•:uitlior of Tin- Woman '/<ir<vs/ Me and kindred masterpieces) in collaboration. The meeting of the two famous writers took [-lace at liomrrie Street, cadi of them expressing considerable surprise at hearing that the other wrote books also. After they had compared sales and methods of advertisement, they arranged that their new story for Mr. 1'itnch should b:' written in alternate spasms. l!y an unfortunate error of judgment, however, the illustrations were left to an artist who had never read a word of either author in his life, and who insisted that it w is much too late- to begin now. .Luckily the half-dozen drawings he sent in were such that they could easily b ' made to fit the texi ; and in the result Mr. 1'unch feels that the story is at l\ist ai well illustrated as the average story in the magazines.]

I ho revolved through the air he wondere;!

1 how old sho really was, and what, if

What did your Ann! Louis

when her anklo was sprained'.'" she

CHAPTKR I.— SUNDAY MORNING.

(4/iza BABCLAI begins.) anyj wag hei. income. y01. since tllo a-ked with a rueful smile.

IT was a beautiful Sunday morning, j death of tho Little White Lady he had | In an instant the merry banter faded

All nature browsed in solemn Sabbath j formed a liabit of marrying elderly from the "Virile Benedict's brown i

stillness. The Little Grey Woman of women for their money, and his fifth and was replaced by the commanding

the Night-Light was hurrying, look of one -who has I u

somewhat late, to church. iJ^fe^T ' '""' «fe^€il brilliant degree in all his medical

Down tho white ribbon of /SrCJOyii ' ""^sP^w examinations.

road tho Virib Benedict of the JJ/W ^ " ^/^-W "Allow me," be said brusquely;

Libraries came bicycling, tread- Jf^^mWf\ \ "^^f'/V'V^*^ " I am a doctor." Hebsntdown

ling easily from the ankles. Ho HL^BPBPQ \ (i^ ^•yi and listened to her ankle.

on tho handle-bars, the other in ^of wKk \ »-''*'i^Ki Cameron's quick ear long to

cricketing trousers. His foot- B8| I \ ('^miliK$ki. His manner became very gentle

balling tie, with his college arms x^J^WM \ ^ ""^^^NK ancl llis voic9 very low ; and,

embroidered upon it, flapped £y^0 '|Kff MfiHV > /ffcy Xjjl though he continued to exhale

gently in the breeze. To look oHl V-X <**^ ^y youth, he did it less ostenta-

at him you would have said that ^^_^^____|fl>^^^Jj ^^^^^^^^J&lffi— tiously than before.

he was probably a crack polo- HM5g "I must carry you home "

player on his way to defend the ^^^S he said nickin"- her un in bis

„! " L. 11 "As A CHILD SHE HAD BEEN FOND OF HOIlSEj.'

championship against all comers, strong young arms; " you can-

or the captain of a county golf eleven. 'or sixth wife had perished of old age not go to church to-day." As he rode, his soul overflowing with I only a few months ago.

ft

the joy of life, he hummed the Collect for the Day.

It was exactly opposite the church that he ran into the Little Grey Woman of the Night- Light. He had just flashed past a labourer in the road — known to his cronies as tho Flap- eared Denizen of tho Turnip - patch — a labourer who in ih:; dear dead days of VICTORIA would have touched his hat humhh , but who now, in this horrible age of attempts to level all cl-iss distinc- tions, actually wont 0:1 lighting his pipe ! Ala-;, that tho respectful deference of the poor toward the rich is now a thing of the past I So thought the Virile Bene- dict of theLibraries,and in thinking this he had

[HALL CAINE (waking up). Who, pray, is the Little White Lady'?

J/its. BARCLAY, llis first wife. Slic. comes in my book, " The Broken Halo," now in its two hundredth edition

HALL CAIXK (annoyed). Tut .']

"THEY WElli: HAVING TEA IS THE GARDEN.'

let his mind wander from tho important [ " Jove," he said cheerily, as he picked business of guiding his bicycle! In . himself and her and his bicycle up,

another moment he had run into the \ " that was a nasty spill. As my Aun Little Grey Woman of the Night-Light ! J Louisa used to say to the curate whe

Aunt

She had seen him coining and had he upset the milk-jug into her lap, ' No given a warning cry ; for, though as a milk, thank you.'" His brown eyes child she had been fond of horses, hi- "

cycles had always fillF'J her with alarm. It was too late. Tho next moment he shot over his handle-bars; but even as

danced with amusement as be related this reminiscence of his boyhood. To the Little Grey Woman ho seemed to exhale youth from every pore.

" But the curate is preaching ! " Dr. Dick murmured something pro- fane under his breath about curates. He had, alas! these moments of irrev- erence ; as, for instance, on one occasion when he had spoken of Mr. Louis N. PAHKKH'H noble picture - play quite shortly as "Jos. Bios." "I will carry you home," he said gentlv. " Tell me whereyou live, Little Grey Wbi nan.'1

She smiled up at him bravely. " The" Manor HOIIEC," she said.

His voice became yet more gentle. " And now tell me your income," ho whispered ; and his whole being trembled with emotion as ho waited for her reply.

\Miis. BARCLAY. There ! That's the end of the chapter. Now it 's your turn.

HALL CAIXE (waking up). 7 don't know if I told you that in mi/ last great work of tin imagination, -in which I collaborated with the Bishop of London, I wrote throughout in tlio first person. Nearly a million copies irere sold, thus showiiuj that the heart of the ijrcat public approved of my method of telling mi/ star i/ through the mouth of a young

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

and innocent girl, exposed to great felicitation. 1 should wish, therefore, to repeat that method in tliis story, if you could so arrange it.

Jt/R.s. B A HIT. AY. But that's easy. The Little <!re:/ \\'oiiuiu shall tell Dr. Dick the story of her Jirst marriage. 1 did that in iiuj last Look, " The Broken Halo." nuif in itstwolumdredth edition.

HALL (' A i \ E (an- noyed). Tut.']

CiiArTKH IF. — I ' ••. . THE CEDAR.

(Man. li.tncLAY con- tin ucs.)

They were having tea in tho garden — tho Little Grey Woman and Dr. Dick. More than six months had elapsed since the accident out- side the church, amt-Dr. Dick still remained on _ at tho Manor House in 'charge of his patient, wishing to be bandy in case tho old j sprain came on again suddenly. She was eighty-two and had, twelve thou- sand a year. On the lawn a thrusli was singing.

" How fresh and green the world is to-day," sighed Dr. Dick, leaning hack and exhaling youth. " As the curate used to say to rnyAunt Louisa, 'A delight- ful shower after the rain.' " lie laughed merrily and threw a crumb at tho thrush with tho perfect aim of a good cricketer throwing the ball at the wickets.

•• My dear boy," said the Little Grey Woman, " the world is always fresh and green to youth liko yours. But to an old woman liko me —

"Not old," said Dick, with an ardent glance; " only eighty - two. Mrs. Deauchamp, will you marry me '? "

She looked at him with a sad but tender smib.

" What would my friends say ? " she asked.

"Bother your friends.''

" My dsar boy, you would be con- siderably surprised if you could glance through an approximata list of the friends I possess to-day. Do you know that if I marry you I shall bo required to make an explanation to several royal ladies — that is, if they graciously grant me the opportunity so to do."

" But I want your mon — I mean

I lore you," he pleaded, tho light of youth shining in his brown c\e-;.

Tho Little Grey Woman looked at him tenderly. Their eye? mot.

" Listen," she said. " 1 will toll you the story of my first marriage, and then if you wish you shall ask mo again."

"TlIEIB EYES Ml'.'l."

Dr. Dick helped himself to another slice of cake and leant back to listen.

[Mas. BARCLAY. There you are. Xow you can do Chapter Three.

HALL CAINII. Excellent. It is quite time that one got some emotion into this story. In" ThcWoman Thou (lai'cstMe," of which more than a million

Mus. BARCLAY. Emotion, index! !

"I SHALL NEVER FOHJET THAT KVEN1XC."

NIJ last book is already in its two hundredth edition.

HALL CAIXK (annoyed). Tut .']

CHAPTER III. — MRS. BEAI'CHAMT'S

STORY.

(Ma. HALL CAINE takes up the laic.) I have always had a wonderful memory, and my earliest recollection is of hearing

' my father ask, on the day when I was I born, whether it was a boy or a girl. j When they told him " a girl," he let fall ' a rough expression which sent the blood coursing over my mother's pale cheeks like lobster-sauce coursing over a turbot. My father, John Boom-ier, was a great advertising agent, per- haps the greatest in the Island, though be always said that there was one man who could beat him. He wanted a son to succeed him in the business, and in the years to come he never forgave mo for being a girl. IIo would often glare at mo in silence for three-quarters of an hour, and then, letting fall t!ie sains rough ex- pression, throw a boot at mo and stride from the room. A bard,cmcl man, my father, and yet, in his fashion, he was fond of me.

It was not until I was eighteen that

Ii3 first spoke to me. To my dying day

I shall never forget that evening ; nor

; his words, which bit themselves into

my mind as a red-hot iron bites its way

; into cheese.

" Nell," he said, for that was my name, thongb he had never used it before, " I 've arranged that you are to marry Lord Wui/el two months from to-day."

At these terrible words the blood ebbed slowly from my oars and my bands grew hot.

" I do not know him," I said in a stifled voice.

" You will to-morrow,'' he laughed brutally, and with another rough word ho strode from the room.

Lord Wurzel ! I ran upstairs to my room and flung myself face down- wards on the bed. In my agony 1 bit a largepiece out of tho pillow. The blood flowed forward and back- ward over mo in waves, and I burst every now and then into a passion of weeping. By-and-by I began to feel more serene. I decided that it was my duty to obey my father. My heart leapt within me at the thought of doing my duty, and to calm myself I put on ray I hat and wandered into the glen. It was 'very silent in the glen. There was no | sound but tho rustling of the leaves over- }bead, the popping of the insects under- j foot, the sneezing of tho cattle, the

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

whistling of the pigs, the coughing of •id-mice, the roaring of tho rabbits, anil the deep, organ-song of tho sea.

But suddenly, above all these noises, ' 1 heard a voice which sent the blood ebbing and flowing in my heart and caused the back of my neck to quiver) with ecstasy.

"Nell! "'it said.

It was the voice of my old ! le, Andrew Spinnaker, who had played with me in our childhood's days, and whom I had not seen now for eight years.

"Andrew!" I cried, as I turned round. " What are you doing here ? "

" I am just off to discover the South Pole," he said. " My shipmates are waiting for me to command the expedition."

I noticed then for tho lust time that ho was dressi d in a s >al-skin cap and a pair of sleeping bags.

" Nell," he went on, "before I go tell me you love me."

My heart fluttered like a captured bird ; my knees trembled like a drunken spider's; my throat was stifled like a stifled throat. A huge wave of some- thing or other surged over me and told me that the great mystery of the world had happened to me.

1 was in love.

I was in love with Andrew Spinnaker.

"Andrew," I cried, falling oil his startled chin, "I love you." • All the back of my neck thrilled with joy.

But my joy was short- lived. No sooner had I be- come aware that 1 loved Andrew Spinnaker than my conscience told me 1 had no right to do so. I was going to marry Lord Wurzel, and ;j to love another than my husband was sin. 1 shook Andrew o!T my lips.

" I love you," I said, " hut I cannot marry you. I am marrying Lord Wurzel."

" That beast '? " cried Andrew, in the impetuous sailor fashion which so en- deared him to his shipmates. " When I come back 1 will thrash him i as I would thrash a vicious ape."

" When will that be?"

"In about two months," said my darling hoy. "This is going to be a very quick expedition."

" Alas, that will be my wedding day," I said with a low sob like that of a buffalo yearning for its mate. " It will be too late."

Andrew took me in his strong arms.

I should not have let him, but I could not help it.

" Listen," he said, " T will start back from the Polo a day before my ship- mates, and save you from that d-sli-d beast. And then I will marry you, Nell."

There was a roaring in my ears like

1 1 WILL

SAVE YOU.' "

the roaring of the hath when the tap is left on ; many waters seemed to rush upon me ; my hat fell off, and then deep oblivion came over me and I swooned.

To go through my emotions in detail during the next two months would be hut to barrow you needlessly. Suffice it to say that seventeen times I flung

To-morrow, unless Andrew Spinnaker saved me, I should be Lady 'Wurzel.

"A marconigram for you, miss, "said our faithful old gardener, William, entering tho drawing-room noiselessly by the chimney. " 1 brought it myself to be sure you got it."

With trembling fingers I tore it open. How my heart leapt and tho hot colour flooded my neck and brow when I recognized" the dear schoolboy writing of my lie- loved Andrew ! I have the message still. It went like this:

" Wireless— South Pole. Arrived safe. Found Pole. Weather charming. Blue sky. Not a breath of wind. Am wearing my thick socks. Sun never going down. Con- stellations revolving without dipping. Moo:i going side- ways. Am starting for England to-morrow. Arrive Victoria twelve o'clock, Wed- nesday.— ANUHMW." Back on Wednesday ! And to-morrow was Tuesday — my wedding day ! There was no hope. I felt like a shipwrecked voyager. For the thirty - fifth time since the beginning of the month deep oblivion came over me and I swooned. \ILiLij CAINS. I think yon miglit go on now. I have pul a little life into the story. It is perhaps not quite so ririd

myself face downwards on my bed and ' as my last work, "The Woman Thou

Gavcst Me," of which more than, a million copies-

Mini. I) AHCL AY. In the tiro hundredth, edition of " The Broken Halo "

77,(7,;, CAINI.; (annoyed). Tut!

CHAPTER IV.— THE END- (Mitn. n.tiK'LAY resumes.)

At this point in The Little Grey Woman's story, handsome Dr. Dick put down bis third piece of cake and got up. There was a baffled look on his virile faco which none of his pre- vious wives bad ever seen there. For once Dr. Dick was nonplussed !

" Is there much more of your story ? " he asked.

" Five hundred and nineteen pages," she said. •

The Virile Benedict of the Libraries took up his bat. Never had he exhaled youth so violently, yet never had he looked such a man. He had made up his mind. She was rich ; but, after all, money was not everything.

" Good-bye," he said. A. A. M.

"I FELT LIKE A SHIPWRECKED VOYAGEK."

bit a piece out of the pillow, on twenty-] nine occasions the blood ebbed slowly from my face, and my heart fluttered like a captured bird, while in a hundred- and-forty instances a wave of emotion surged slowly over my whole body, I leaving me trembling like an aspen leaf. ! Otherwise my health remained good.

It was the night before the wedding. ''. The bad Lord Wurzel had juso left me with words of love upon his lying lips.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Mr. Hawtrey

as Hamlet.

Miss Marie Tempest

as

Lady Macbeth.

Mr. Norman McKinnel

as Romeo.

Mr. Edmund Payne

in

The Only Way.

Miss Gertie Millar

as JUar^u'rite.

The Widow Twankey.

w.K-

OUT OF THEIR GROOVES.

OUR GREEN Eooir CORRESPONDENT PREDICTS THAT THE COMING DRAMATIC YEAH WILL BE FULL OP SURPRISES. SOME OF OUK

POPULAR IHSTHIONS ARE THINKING OP EXTENDING THEin REPERTORIES ON UNUSUAL L1SES.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE POSSIBILITIES OF TOWN.

(TF/iy limit to a ffic u-ccks in the summer those, healthy amusements which are so great a source of joy

at your favourite holiday resort'!}

IF YO'J ARE SO FOXD OF MIXED BATHUiQ AT DKAUV1I.LE, WHY NOT DO IT III THE HOUND PflXD?

IF YOU. BEVEL IN PICNICS BY THE OEYSIAIi WATEB3 Off LYM, WHAT '8 HIE MAITEB WITH TllAFALaiU SqUABI?

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE POSSIBILITIES OF TOWN.

IP TOUB NAUTICAL INSTINCTS CANNOT EESIST THE WOOING OF THE WATES AT COWES, WHY NOT LISTE3 TO THIS CALL OF THE SEBrEMTINE ?

IF DONKEYS MAKE THE CHAEJt OF MARGATE SANDS, WHY HOT BIDE 'EM TO THE ClTY ?

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

OUR CATALOGUE OF NOVEL PRACTICAL JOKES FOR FUNNY FELLOWS.

11! ::l\l'fXi> i'MUULLLt, WITH SPUING HANDLE. JUST

THE THING FOB NARROW PAVEMENTS. AlJL YOU HAVE TO DO IS TO PRESS THIi KNUil. IT ADDS TO TUB FUN IP YOU LIIT THE

18 OLD GENTLEMAN'S UMBRELLA INTO THE AIK.

i:, 5s., SUPERIOR DUALITY. CHEAPER STYLE, Wd.

.'IliW DO THEY TIIIXK OF THEfiE FUXXY THIXdS'l! THE

liinnvixii Doc. TRY THIS ONIO TO LIVEN UP A TEA- PARTY. YOU INTRODUCE YOUR HaSTF.SS'8 NOTICE TO YOUH TOY PUG, AND THEN

NOVELTY LUNCHEON DAHKET, CAUSES SCBKECUES OP LAUGHTER. WlIEN THE BASKET IS OPENED IT SUDDENLY SHOOTS OUT AN ASSORTMENT OF MONSTER SNAKES, COON BABIES AND JAP SQUEAKERS. VERY POPULAR.

SMALL SIZE, 2s. 6d. LABGE SIZE, SUFFICIENT FOR FOUR PERSONS, 3s. Gd

AT THE BIGHT MOMENT YOU BLOW HIM OUT IMO A FULL- SIZED BULL-DOG. VERY LIFELIKE.

Is. Gd. ; POST FREE, Is. Id.

ABSOLUTELY THE BEST VALVE FOR MONEY EVER OFFKKED. THE ELASTIC STRAP FOB STRAV-HANGERS. ATTACH IT TO THE BAIL AND

WATCH RESULTS. THE JOKE OF THE SEASON. HAVE ONE ; EVERYBODY WILL LIKE YOU. PRICE (xil. ; WORTH 15s.

YOU MUST

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

"EAST IS EAST AND WEST IS WEST."

v

COLONEL AND MBS. CUVE-SMYTHE'S CHBISTILAS nj

THE SAME AT HOME ON EETIRSMKNT.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

WANTED, A CINEMA ACTOR: MUST BE VERSATILE.

Able to portray stern relentless fathers ;

stony-hearted sheriffs,

also romantic lovers,

and " crooks " who are not so bad as they are painted.

JllUOB O*SAB. KJIA

N'APfil.EOX.

WEI.MNOTOX

KA I.STA i- F.

THK KINO wno NF.VKH SMILED AGAIN.

Should have a mobile face and able to make up as any of the above characters.

Must not mind the feel of rubber.

Should be a good boxer,

and a long-distance swimmer ;

competent to suggest powerful emotion

and pathetic tenderness,

and capable of remaining indefinitely in awkward positions.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

MR. PUNCH'S MOTOR TRAFFIC SOLUTIONS.

Thi Run-under Cycle-car ; goes anywhere

The Concertina Car. For use in tight places

The "Lift-up " Side Car.

The Expanding Cow-Pusher. Will shove off anything.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

First Thruster (guiltily conscious of having rattier pressed on houitds). " Now WE 'RE GOIN' TO CATCH IT ; THAT 's THE IN', ISN'T IT?" Second Thruster (his host). "Ii's ALL BIGHT. WE'VE GOT TWO MASTERS. THAT'S THE o>

COMIN .

SUPPLIES THE MONEY; THE OTHER SUPPLIES THE LANGUAGE."

MASTER

ONE THAT

Huntsman (of very slow harriers). "'OLD 'ABD, PLEASE! GIVE 'EM PLENTY OP TIME." Young Farmer. "BETTER 'URKY UP, CHARLES, OR THE 'ABE 'LL BE OVERLAPPIN' YOU."

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Hodge (to porter who hasjust been supplied with an artificial leg) . " EH ! JoHNl I 'BAUD AS *OW YOU'D LOST YOUB'LKG?"

John. "So I "AVE, MAN: YOU BE QUITE EIGHT."

Hodge. "WELL, I BE MAIM GLAD TO SEE YOU AIN'T LOST YOUR FOOT AS WELL."

Lady (to applicant for situation). "WELL, NOW you QUITE UNDERSTAND THAT YOUR DUTIES ARE SIMJLY TO WAIT ON ME?"

Girl. "YES, M'M."

Tlie Girl's Motlicr. " OH, I THINK SHE 'LL DO VERY WELL, MUM ; AND I 'M PLEASED TO THINK SHE 'I.L 'AVE A COMFORTABLE

'OSIE, FOB SHE 'S FAR FROM STRONG AND DO WANT SUCH A LOT O1 LOOKING AFTER."

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Fred. "OH, MUMMY, DO PLEASE ASK CISSY AND PUSS TO STOP BEING A RAILWAY ACCIDENT.

WINTRY FIRES.

LADY, having been engaged since May-day (Pity that the Spring should ever stop!)

Now the year's no longer in its heyday, Don't you think we'd better let it drop?

In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly Turns to .love, as doubtless you 're awaru ;

In the Spring wo wax exceeding sprightly, Due, no doubt, to something in the air.

Then, as was both natural and proper, Wo two met and, scorning all delay,

Yowi.d to wed, and neither cared a copper For the pregnant fact that it was May.

Summer came and, warming with the weather, Karely was an ardour such as mine;

You '11 recall that, take it altogether, For an English summer it was fine.

Summer turned to Autumn, and September Opened to the world her golden feast;

Quite a record month, as you'll remember, And my love, if anything, increased.

Honestly, I thought it was a sure case ;

Only, now the early Winter's come, Lads1, as in others', so in your case,

I confess to getting rather numb.

Do not deem me fickle, dear, and faithless;

Though the readjustment seems to be Sudden — not to call it startling — natheleaa

You can hardly put it down to ma.

Love appears, for some unfathomed reason, Like a flow'r that ripens with the sun;

And, like everything that has its season, "Withers when its little course is run.

That's what I conceive to be the matter;

And I write, believe me, with regret; For I own, with no desire to flatter,

That you 're quite the nicest girl I 've met.

Still, farewell, or (put it less severely) Au rcroir; I hope you'll keep the ring;

Snows are brief,' and I, who loved you dearly Once, again may do so — in the Spring.

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

Constable. " FOUND 'in ON THE COMMON, MUM, A-DRILLIN' HOF AN HIMAOINABY HARMY!"

Bystander. " WHY DON'T YOU SEXD TO MUDDIFOBD? THEY'VK GOT A BBAND-NEW FIBE ENGINE. Local Fireman. " NOT LIKELY! 'TAIN'T THEIR PIKE!"

Punch's Almanack for 1914.

THE THREATENED AGRICULTURAL MILLENNIUM.

Departing Year. '• 'Do I SLEEP, DO 1 DREAM? . . .

OB IS VIEIDNS ABOUT?' "

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

O

°F*h€GLen?<i neoi Lano- seen.

AMENDE DISHONORABLE.

HEAVILY dragged the night ; the Year

Was passing, and the clock's slow tick Boomed its sad message to my ear

And made me pretty sick.

'You have been slack," I told myself, "and weak; You have done foolishly, from wilful choice; Sloth and procrastination — " Here my voice Broke in a squeak.

And deep repentance welled in me

As I mused darkly on my sin ; Yea, Conscience stung me, like a bee

That gets her barb well in.

1 Next year," I swore, in this compunctious mood, "I will be energetic, virtuous, kind ; Unflinching I will face the awful grind Of being good."

I paused, half troubled by a thought —

Were my proposals too sublime? Vowed I more deeply than I ought?

I glanced to see the time. It was 12.10 A.M. At once a thrill,

A wave of manful resolution, sped

Through all my being. "Yes," I bravely said, " Next year I will ! "

VOL. CXLVI.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

7, 1914.

A PLAY OF FEATURES.

[Being Sir GEOBQE ALEXANDER'S production of Tile Attack at the St. James's.]

SCENE — Alexandra Mental's house. ACT I.

Daniel Marital My father is a won- derful man. Leader of the Social Party in tl)3 Chamber of Deputies, noted among his colleagues for his absolute integrity, supported by the millionaire newspaper proprietor, Frepeau, whose motives, between ourselves, are not altogether above — Oh, are you

there, Father rt 1 didn't see you. 1 'm just off to play tennis. [Exit.

Enter Eeneo do Bould.

Rente. Mr. Me'rital, may I speak to you a moment?

Georges Alexandra Merital (with characteristic suavity). Certainly.

Kcnee. I love you. Will you marry me?

Mcrital (surprised). Well, really— this is — I — you — we — er, he, she,

they Frankly, you embarrass me.

(Apologetically) This is my embarrassed face.

Rente. But I thought you loved me. Don't you ?

Mcrital. No. That is to say, yes. Or rather

Hence (tearfully). I w-wish you could make it plainer whether you d-do love me and are pretending you don't, or you d-dou't love me and are pretending you do. It "s v-very unsettling for a young girl not to know.

Sir GEORGES ALEXASDRE (surprised and a little hurt). Can't you tell from my face ?

Miss MARTHA HEDMAN. This is my first appearance in England, Sir

G ECHOES.

Sir GEORGES. True. I was forgetting. Well, when you have been with us a little longer, you will know that this is my face when I adore anyone very much, hut, owing to an unfortunate episode in my past life, am forced to hide my love.

lienee (alarmed). Your past wife isn't alive somewhere?

Merital. Oh no, not that sort of thing at all. (Embracing her carefully.) I will marry you, Ben6e, but run along now because my friend Fripeau is corning, and be probably wants to talk business. [Exit Renee.

Enter Frepeau.

Fn'peau (excitedly). Me'rital, you are in danger. A scandalous libel is being circulated about you.

Mental (calmly). Pooh ! Faugh !

Frepeau. It is said that thirty years ago (Alexandra's nose twitches), when you were in a solicitor's ofiice (Alexandra's jaw drops), you stole

nmepence from the stamp drawer (Alexandra's eyeballs roll). Of course it is a lie?

Mcrital (with a great effort obtaining command of his features again). Of coarse.

CURTAIN.

ACT II.

Daniel Merital. Father's face has bean very odd these last few weeks. Sometimes I wonder whether he didn't steal the money after all. But we shall know after the libel action this after- noon. It starts at two. Oh, are you there, Father? I'm just going to see a man about something. [Exit.

Enter Frepeau.

Mcrital. All, Frepeau, the man I wanted to see. (Plaintively) Frepeau, when you called on me in the First Act, don't you think you might have given some indication by the play of your features that it was you who ori- ginated this libel against me, and that you are my deadly enemy ? The merest twitch of the ears would have been enough.

HOLMAX CLARK. I wanted it to be a surprise for the audience.

Sir GEORGES. Yes, but is that art?

HOLMAX CLARK. Besides, in real life

Sir GEORGES (amazed). Eeal life? Good Heavens, HOLMAN, is this your first appearance in England too ?

HOLMAN CLARK (annoyed). Let's get on with the play.

Sir GEORGES. Certainly. Wait a moment till I 've got my " strong- man-with- his -back -to -the -wall " ex- pression. (Arranging his face.) How's that?

HOLJ.IAN CLARK. Begin again . . . That 's better.

Merital (sternly). Now then, Frepeau! I must ask you to give instructions that the libel is withdrawn in court this afternoon. If not

Frepeau. Well?

Merital (softly). I know somebody else who stole something from the stamp drawer thirty years ago. (Fr6peau's whiskers tremble.) Aha, I thought I 'd move you this time.

Frepeau. It's a lie! How did you find out ?

Merital (blandly). I said to myself, " I am the hero of this play and'l 've got to got out of this mess somehow. If I could only find some papers in- criminating the villain — that's you — all would be well." So I — er — found them. ... It 's no good, Frepeau. Unless you let me oft', you 're done.

Frepeau (getting up). Well, I sup- pose I must. But personally I 'd be ashamed to escape through such a rotten coincidence as that. (Making for

Ilia door.) I '11 just go and arrange it. Er, I suppose this is the end?

SIR GEORGES. The end ? Good Heavens, man, I 've got my big scene to come. I have to explain why Marital stole the money thirty years ago!

HOLMAN CLARK (eagcrlij). Let rcc guess. His wife was starv—

SIR GEORGES. No, no, don't spoil it. (Sternly) It 's a very serious thing, IIOLMAN, to spoil an actor-manager's big scene.

CURTAIN.

ACT III.

Daniel Mcrital. Father has won his case. I am glad. Oh, are you there, Father ? I 'in just going downstairs to count the telegrams. [Exit.

Enter Ben£e.

Hence. You have won the case ? I knew it. I knew you were innocent.

Merital (nobly). Rcnee, I am not innocent. I did steal that ninepence. I would have confessed it before, but I had to think of my family. (Cheers from the gallery.) Of course it would also have been unpleasant for me if it had been known, but that did not influence me. (More cheers.) I thought only of my children. Let me tell you now why 1 stole it.

Renee (eagerly). Let me guess. Your wife was starving —

Mcrital (astounded). WTonderful ! How ever did you know ?

Hence. • — and you meant to repay the money.

Merital. More and more marvellous. Yes, Renee, that waa how it was. But it hardly does justice to the affair. It is too short. I want to tell you the story of my whole life and then you will understand. Watch my face care- fully and observe bow it works ; notice the constant movement of my hands ; listen to the inflections of my voice. This is going to be the longest speech ever made by an actor-manager, and you mustn't miss a moment of it. Il'r'm ! Now then. (Nobly) I was born fifty-three years ago. My father . . .

Eenee (half-an-hour later). 1 still love you.

Merital (with some truth). What a love yours is !

Enter Daniel, Julien and Georgette Marital.

Daniel. Father, we have a confession to make. For some time we doubted your innocence. Your face — well, you 'd have doubted it yourself if you 'd seen it.

Merital (taking Ms hand affection- ately). Ah! Do,niel, I sea I must tell you the story of my life. (Excitement among the audience.) And you too, Julien. (Panic.) Yes, and — little Georgette! SAFETY CURTAIN.

A. A. M.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 7, 1914.

MEXICAh

PRESI

PROCL

THREE MO

THE EARTHLY PARADISE.

Coster. "SEE THAT. LIZ? THERE'S A COUNTRY FOR YOU!"

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

PEACEFUL PERSUASION.

(JOXES IS SOT NATURALLY A GENEROUS MAN.)

THE ROMANCE OF A BATTLESHIP.

(From the Navy League Annual of 1916.)

I HAVE just returned (writes a Naval correspondent) from an interesting visit to the condemned battleship, H.M.S, Indefensible, which is now anchored off firightlingsea, in the charge of retired petty-officer Herbert Tompkins and his wife.

The history of II..M.S. Indefensible, as gathered from the lips of her present curator, is so romantic as to be worthy of permanent record. In reply to my first question, " Whom .did she belong to iirst of all '? " Mr. Tompkins said, " Well, she was ordered first of all by the Argentine Eepublic, but, owing to a change of Government, they sold her to the Italians. I remember the launch at Barrow quite well," he said. "It was a mighty fine show, with the Italian Ambassador and his wife — the Magnifieo Pomposo, they called her, I think it was — and there was speechify- ing and hurraying and enough cham- pagne drunk to float her. That was just three years ago : a super- Dread- nought, they called her."

" Then how did the British Govern- ment get her ? "

" Lor bless you, Sir, that didn't come for a long time yet. Ye see, Italy shortly afterwards made an alliance with Denmark, and, wishing to do the Danes a good turn, she arranged to sell them the Magnifieo Pomposo at cost price — about three millions I think it was. But immediately afterwards the Eusso-Chinese war broke out, and the Chinese offered the Danes four millions for the Dannebrog, as they had called her, so by the time the engines were put into her she had been re- christened the Hoang-Ho. But the war never came off : you remember that Mr. EOOSEVELT settled it by fight- ing a single combat with the Eussian champion after he bad been appointed President of China; so the Chinese leased the Hoang-Ho to the King of SIAM for four years at a million a year."

" Did she get out to Siani, then ? "

" Oh no, Sir, no fear. The crew ran her on the Goodwin Sands on her trial trip, and there she stuck for a year. Before they got her off the Siamese had been released from their bargain by the Hague Tribunal, Mr. EOOSEVELT

had resigned the Presidency of China for that of Mexico, and the new President sold the Chulalongkorn back to Great Britain. Of course by that time she was quite obsolete, so they called her the Indefensible, and put a nucleus crew on board for a few months. Then when Mr. LLOYD GEORGE became Prime Minister, they offered her to Canada as a gift ; but the Canadians didn't like her name. And when Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL came back last month he decided that she was to be made a target ; but last week I heard she was to be sold for scrap- iron."

"Then whom does she belong to now? "

" Well, Sir, some says she belongs to Canada, and others say she's British, and others say she belongs to Mr. CHURCHILL, but in a manner of speaking I think she rightly belongs to Mrs. Tompkins and me."

" On making enquiries at the Hospital this afternoon, we learn that the deceased is as \\ell as can be expected." — Jersey Evening Post. It would, of course, be foolish to expect much.

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHAU1VARI.

[jAsi-.uiv 7, 1914.

A NEW BOOK OF BEAUTY.

A HUNDRED years ago they had line engravings by CHARLES HEATH, and the long-necked, ringleted ladies looked : wistfully or simperingly at you. I have several examples: Caskets, Albums, Keep- sakes.

This hook is different. The steel j engravers have long since all died of j starvation ; and hero are photographs j only, hut there are many more of them, ! and (strange innovation !) there are j more gentlemen than ladies. For this preponderance there is a good com- mercial reason, as any student of the work will quickly discover, for we are now entering a sphere of life where the beauty of the sterner sex (if so severe a word can be applied to such sublimation of everything that is soft and voluptuous and en- dearing) is more con- sidered than that of the other. Beautiful ladies are here in some pro- fusion, but the first place [ is for beautiful and; guinea - earning gentle men.

In the old Books of Beauty one could make ' a choice. There was always one lady su- premely longer - necked, | more wistful or more! simpering than the' others. But in this new Book of Beauty one turns the pages only to be more perplexed. The embarrassment of riches is too embarrassing. I have been through the work a score of times and am still; wondering on whom my affections and admiration are most firmly fixed.

This new Book of Beauty has a very different title from the old ones. It is called The Pekingese, and is the revised edition for 1914.

How to play the part of Paris where all the competitors have some irresisti- bility, as all have of either sox ! Once 1 thought that Wee Mo of Westwood was iny heart's chiefest delight, " a name-red little dog with black mask and ear-fringes, profuse coat and featherings, Hat wide skull, short flat face, short bowed legs and woll-shapod body." But then I turned back to Broadoak Beetle and on to Broadoak (•irawanzi, and Young Beetle, and Nanking Fo, and Ta Fo of Greystones, and Pctsho Ah Wei, and Hay Ch'ah of Toddington, and that superb Sultanic creature, King Rudolph of Kurifcania, and Champion Howbury Ming, and Su Eh of Nevvnham, and King Beetle of

Mindcn, and Champion Hu Hi, and Mo Sho, and that rich rod dog, Buddha of Burford. And having chosen these I might just as well scratch out their names and write in others, for every male face in this hook is a poem.

The ladies, as I have said, are in the minority, for obvious reasons, for these little disdainful distinguished gentlemen figure here as potential fathers, with their fees somewhat indelicately named ; for there 's a husbandry on earth as well as in heaven.

Such ladies as are hero are here for their beauty alone and are beyond or below price. Their favours are not to be bought. Among them I note with especial joy Yiptseof Chinatown, Man- darin Marvel, who " inherits the beauti- ful front of her sire, Broadoak Beetle"; Lavender of Burton-on-Dee, " fawn

why should wo not say that it was the

• introduction of Pekingese into England

• from China ? According to an historical I sketch at the beginning of this book,

the first Pekingese were brought over in I860, after the occupation of 1'ekin by the Allies. The first black ones came here in 1896, and now in 1914 there arc thousands of these wholly alluring and adorable and masterful little big- hearted creatures in England, turning staid men and women into ecstatic worshippers and making children lyrical with cries of appreciation. The book before me is the finest monument yet raised to this conquering breed.

NKW SEASON'S NOVELTIES.

1. THE CAT'S-MEAT HAT-PIN PBOTECTOH.

2. THE MUD-SPLASH VEIL.

3. THE THBOAT CORSET.

with black mask"; Chi-Fa of Alder- bourne, " a most charming and devoted little companion"; Yeng Loo of Ipsley; Detlong Mo-li of Alderburne, one of the " beautiful red daughters of Wong-ti of Alderburne," Champion Chaou Ching- ur, of whom her owner says that " in quaintness and individuality and in loving disposition she is unequalled "and is also " quite a ' woman of tho world,' very blasec and also very punctilious in trifles ; " Pearl of Cotehele, " bright red with beautiful back " ; E- Wo Tu T'su ; Berylune Tzu Hsi Chu ; Ko-ki of Iladbourne and Siddington Fi-fi.

Every now and then there is an article in tho papers asking and answering the question, What is the greatest benefit that has come to man- kind in tho past half century? The answer is usually the Marconi system, or the cinema, or the pianola, or the turbine, or the Eontgen rays, or the telephone or the motor car. Always something utilitarian or scientific. But

MISUNDERSTOOD.

(A Story of the Stone Age.) OF all tho young bachelors in his tribe not one was more highly esteemed than Ug, the son of Zug. He was one of the nicest young prehistoric men that ever sprang seven feet into the air to avoid the im- pulsive bite of a sabre- tooth tiger, or cheered the hearts of grave elders searching for inter-tribal

j talent by his lightning sprints in front of ex- citable mammoths. Everybody liked Ug, and

' it was a matter of sur- prise to his friends that he had never married.

One bright day, how- ever, they were interested to observe that he had begun to exhibit all the symptoms. He brooded

apart. Twice in succession ho refused a second help of pterodactyl at the tribal luncheon table. And there were those who claimed to have come upon him laboriously writing poetry on the walls of distant caves.

It should be understood that in those days only the .most powerful motive, such as a whole-hearted love, could drive a man to writing poetry ; for it was not the ridiculously simple task which it is to-day. The alphabet had not yet been invented, and the only method by which a young man could express himself was by carving or writing on stone a series of pictures, each of which convoyed the sense of some word or phrase. Thus, where the modern bard takes but a few seconds to write, " You made me love you. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it," Ug, tho son of Zug, had to sit up night after night till he had carved three trees, a plesiosaurus, four kinds of fish, a star-shaped rock, eleven

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

different varieties of flowering shrub, and a more or less lifelike representa- tion of a mammoth surprised while hathing. It is little wonder that the youth of the period, ever impetuous, looked askance at this method of re- vealing their passion, and preferred to give proof of their sincerity and fervour by waiting for the lady of their affec- tions behind a rock and stunning her with a club.

But the refined and sensitive nature of Ug, the son of Zug, shrank from this brusque form of wooing. He was shy with women. To him there was some- thing a little coarse, almost ungentle- manly, in the orthodox form of proposal ; and he had made up his mind that, if ever he should happen to fall in love, he would propose by ideograph.

It was shortly after he had come to this decision that, at a boy-and-girl dance given by a popular local hostess, he mot the divinest creature lie had ever seen. Her name was Wug, the daughter of Glug ; and from the moment of their introduction he realised that she was the one girl in the world for him. It only remained to compose the ideograph.

Having steadied himself as far as possible by carving a few poems, as described above, he addressed himself to the really important task of the proposal.

It was extraordinarily difficult, for Ug had not had a very good education. All he knew he had picked up in the give and take of tribal life. For this reason he felt it would be better to keep the thing short. But it was hard to condense all he felt into a brief note. Fot a long time he thought in vain, then one night, as he tossed sleeplessly on bis bed of rocks, he came to a decision. Ho would just ideograph, "Dear Wug, I love you. Yours faith- fully, Ug. P.S. B.S.V.P.," and leave it at that. So in the morning he got to work, and by the end of the week the ideograph was completed. It consisted of a rising sun, two cave-bears, a walrus, seventeen shin-bones of the lesser rib- nosed baboon, a brontosaurus, three sand-eels, and a pterodactyl devouring a mangold-wurzel. It was an uncom- monly neat piece of work, he considered, for one who had never attended an art- school. He was pleased with it. It would, bo flattered himself, be a queer sort of girl who could stand out against that. For the first time for weeks he slept soundly and peacefully.

Next day his valet brought him with his morning beverage a piece of flat rock. On it was carved a simple human thigh-bone. He uttered a loud cry. She had rejected him. The parcel-post, an hour later, brought him

CKRS

ECKNK— Aii Army Boxiny Competition. Civilian. "RATHER A FEARFUL MAS, THAT?" Soldier. "\VELD, 'B AIN'T REALLY VERY FEARFUL. Yon SEE THE BIO FELLOW'S 'is

SERGEANT AS1 THIS IS THE ONLY CHANCE 'E 'AS OF GETTING A BIT OF 'IS OWN BACK."

bis own ideograph, returned without a word.

Ug's greatest friend in the tribe was Jug, son of Mug, a youth of extra- ordinary tact and intelligence. To him Ug took his trouble.

Jug heard his story, and asked to see exactly what he had ideographed.

" You must have expressed yourself badly," he said.

" On the contrary," replied Ug, with some pique, " my proposal was brief, but it was a model of what that sort of proposal should be. Here it is. Bead it for yourself."

Jug read it. Then lie looked at his friend, concerned.

"But, my dear old man, what on earth did you mean by saying she has red hair and that you hate the sight of her?"

" What do you mean ? "

" Why, this ichthyosaurus."

"That's not an ichthyosaurus. It's a brontosaurus."

"It's not a bit like a brontosaurus. And it is rather like an ichthyosaurus. Where you went wrong was in not taking a few simple lessons in this sort of thing first."

" If you ask me," said Ug dis- gustedly, "this picture-writing is silly rot. To-morrow I start an Alphabet." * * * * *

But on the morrow he was other- wise employed. He was standing, concealed behind a rock, at the mouth of the cave of Wug, daughter of Glug. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, and his lingers were clasped like steel bands round the handle of one of the most business-like clubs the Stone Age had ever seen. Orthodoxy had found another disciple.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 7, 1914.

CHARIVARIA.

SIK ERNEST SHACKLETON is to under- take a new expedition to the South Pole, and across the whole South Polar Continent. It is said that an offer from Dr. COOK, who happens to be over here, to show Sir ERNEST how he might save himself much wearisome travelling in achieving his object, has been rejected. ... :;.

Judge PARRY declares, in the current number of The Cornhill, that lost golf balls belong to the KING ; and the ball- room at Buckingham Palace is, we understand, to ha enlarged at once.

'"--:•'

Mr. BERNARD SHAW is the latest addition to Madame TUSSAUD'S gallery of wax-works. But Mr. CHESTERTON must not be jealous. He too, we understand, will bo placed there if room can be found for him.

From some correspondence in The Express we learn that members of more than one savage tribe have a habit of standing on one leg. We see no objection to this at all, but we were bound to protest the other day, in a crowded train, when wo came across a stout gentleman standing on one foot. The foot, we should mention, was ours. ... ...

Of the late Mr. JOHN WILLIAM WHITE, who was only twenty-one inches in height, we are told that he was an ardent politician. Could he have been a Liitle Knglander?

Straws show which, way the wind blows, and the fact that the first prize in the Christmas lottery at Madrid has beeri.won iu Madrid, and the second in London, is held by wiseacres to prove that there is a secret understanding between our country and Spain.

The fact ;that France's Colonial Empire, which is already extensive, has been increased by the birth, during a volcanic eruption, of a new island in the New Hebrides, lias caused some little irritation in (icrmany.

The Lost Property department of Scotland Yard will, it is said, this year easily beat all previous records in the number of articles lost. But we English have always had the reputa- tion of being good losers.

It is announced that Miss PHYLLIS DESMOND, of the Gaiety Theatre, and Mr. C. R. FINCH NOYKS, of the Royal Naval Flying Corps, were married secretly last June. As proving how

difficult it is to keep a secret we believe that the fact has been known for some time past both to Miss DESMOND and Mr. Novr.s. ... ...

Special cinema productions depict- ing scenes of a sacred nature were provided by enterprising managers for the clergy during the holiday season. When one remembers that there is also Who 's the Lady '!- running under distinguished episcopal patronage, the modern curate cannot complain that he is not well catered for.

We congratulate The Daily Mail on finding a peculiarly appropriate topic for discussion at Christmas time. It

was

Too Much Cramming."

Thieves broke into the vestry during the service and stole the gold watch and chain which the minister preaching the Christmas sermon at Marylebone Presbyterian church had left there. The minister must be sorry now that he did not trust his congregation.

Mr. GEORGE BAKER, of Brentwood, received a presentation the other clay on completing his fiftieth year as a carol singer. He mentioned that once, at the beginning of his career, his carol party was broken up by an angry London householder, who fired a pistol- shot from his bedroom window. The modern Londoner, we fear, is decadent, and lacks the necessary spirit.

Dr. MARY WILLIAMS, medical inspector of schools under the Worcestershire County Council, has discovered, as a result ol investigations, that there is a higher proportion of nervous, excit- able children among the red-haired ones than among the others. We haye ourselves known more than one such lad lose all , self-control merely upon being addressed as " Carrots."

Is a motor-car, it is being asked, feminine — like a ship '! A correspondent in The Times refers to her as a lady. Presumably because she wears a bonnet.

A correspondent write* to Tlic Pall Mall Gazette asking whether there is anything in the idea that a large number of used penny postage stamps will enable a person to be received into a charitable institution. Wo have always understood that the collector of one million of thes:? stamps is admitted into a lunatic asylum without having to pass the entrance examination.

A lion from the bush, attracted by the roaring of its caged relatives in a circus at Wankies, South Africa,

suddenly made its way into the mena- gerie. The beast was ultimately driven away by attendants armed with red-hot pokers, but five persons were seriously injured in the panic. The ticket- collector who let the animal in without payment has been reprimanded.

Speaking of M EDWIN'S Revised Life]

of fihelley a critic says, in a contem- porary : " He puts the well - known boats of Archimedes into blank verse." These boats were, we presume, fitted with ARCHIMEDES' famous screw ?

The Hindujah barrage on the Euphrates has now been completed by an English firm, and will provide! water for the Garden of Eden. The structure, we presume, is a blend of the! ADAM stylo with NOAH'S architecture.

" TRAINING SHIP OFF THE EMBANKMENT " is a heading which attractsourattention. This seems a much better idea than having the vessel on the Embankment, where it would be in everyone's way.

THE LAST STRAW.

[•'The way in which individual taste is allowed to assert itself lends a curious charm to the present modes. " — Fashicn Xotc.j

THIS is the finish, Josephine.

Through every swift sartorial change Constant and true my love has been,

Nor showed the least desire to range. The hobble only brought to me

These thoughts with consolation

laden : — " Lo, this is Fashion's fell decree;

One must not blame the maiden.

" It is not hers this hideous choice ;

She blindly follows Fashion's lead, And deference to a ruling voice

Proclaims her just the wife I need. ' Nought questioning, she answers to

That voice,' as soldiers to a trumpet; " And thus I choked the thought that you

Were barmy on the crumpet.

But now unhappy doubts intrude

To bid my satisfaction shrink ; For Fashion in a gracious mood

Allows her devotees to think. Since for your present garb, it scorns,

The mode is not to blame iu toto, Tin's is the end of love's young dreams

(Dear, you may keep my photo). >

"Of cour.se, there is a dress parade, with some wonderful dresses, but if it had been only a parade it would not have been less interesting." — Daily News.

It would have been more interesting — but we hardly expected The Daily Xe to say so.

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS.

Extract frnm 3fr. Herbert StxJye's Idler to liis sister. " WE WEBE GLAD TO HAVE ODB NEPHEW AND NIECE WITH us, BUT,

FRANKLY, THKY AllE TOO SOLKMX.

'WE TOOK THEM TO THE PANTOMIME;

THEY CAME OUT GOLFING WITH US ;

AND WE ALLOWED THEM TO BIT UP LATE,

BUT THE ONLY TIME THEY SMILED WAS WHEN THEY BAID GOOD-BYE."

10

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 7, 1914.

AT OUR LOCAL FANCY CARNIVAL.

Individual in Tights. "I BAY, THIS PLACE is BEASTLY WARM — I THINK I'LL CUT OFF HOMK." 'fhe One with the Scythe. "I THINK I \VILL ALSO. I WONDER WHAT THE TIME is?"

THE SUBSCRIPTION.

CHAKLES, when our protest was lodged, merely replied that our favour of the 10th inst. was to hand, and that he really could not see his way to moving further in the matter. Let me explain the present extent of Charles's movement.

Miss Donelan, \vlio ought to have known batter, had allowed herself to he saddled with a thing called a Branch subscription list on behalf of the St. Nicholas New Year Offering.

Having exploited the probables and possibles she finally handed the docu- ment on to me with instructions to tout it round among my friends. (This is the sort of thing you get nowadays for placing your life at a young woman's disposal.)

Unfortunately I have no friends just now, except what 1 want to keep. While I was thus at a loss, Charles came to stay for a fuw days three doors off. Ho lives a long way away and would have time to forgot before I saw him again. So on the day before his departure I bearded him like a man.

"Charles," 1 began, "you are fabu- lously rich. Your income comes in at such a pace that you hardly ever know within five shillings how much you have at the bank."

Charles blinked through the smoke of a violet-tipped cigarette.

" What about it? " he asked.

"This," I said; "I am, very re- luctantly, ottering you the chance of doing good. All you have to do is to 1 sign your name here for anything up to a hundred pounds, and the good does itself. It is the Saint Nicholas New Year Offering."

'• What does it do?" asked Charles uncomfortably.

" Do ? " I answered. " Why, I don't think it does exactly (Jo. You see it 's a New Year Offering."

"I see," said Charles. "It doesn't do ; it offers. Just like a Member of Parliament."

" I wish," I said, " instead of being funny at other people's expense you would be serious at your own, and tell me exactly how much I can put you down for? "

" There you go again," said Charles. " You want me to think of some defi- nite amount on the spot. You know I hate thinking, and I hate definite amounts. And I loathe doing anything on the spot."

I looked at the subscription list. The last entry was : —

Major-General R. Hewland, £5 5s. Od.

" You needn't do any thinking," I explained patiently. " You need only

stick down exactly the same as the last man. And if you'll promise to do it I '11 leave the list witli you, and you can fill it in' when you feel sufficiently off the spot."

" Exactly the same? " asked Charles.

" Exactly," I said, with rising hopes.

" All right," said Charles. " I '11 let you have it some time."

Four days later, at Miss Donclan's urgent request, I wrote to Charles for it. It catnc in less than forty-eight hours.

Extract from conclusion of subscrip- tion list returned by Charles :—

Major-General R. Hewland, £.5 5s. Od.

Dinner-Table Topics. "MR. LLOYD GEOKGK GOING TO A \VAHMEU CI.IMATK." Midland Ercninj A'tv

Another Accident to an Infinitive.

"It is good news to at last hear that pro- gress is being inside again towards healing the 'split.' " — Kuttinyliam Football Post.

So far not much progress is visible.

"Lord and Lidy Arthur Hill arrived at Maples yesterday from London." — Observer. And Mrs. and Miss Tomkins (in pursuit of bargains) continue to arrive daily at Peter Snelbody's from Cricklewood.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 7, 1914.

THE SPLENDID PAUPERS.

FIISST TUUKISH OFFICIAL (presented with a photograph of the new Turkish Navy in lieu of six months' deferred pay}. "SO WE'VE GOT A DREADNOUGHT, HAVE WE?"

SECOND TURKISH OFFICIAL. " I DON'T KNOW WHO GETS THE DREAD. BUT I KNOW \VK 'YE GOT THE NOUGHT."

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

THE SPELL

whereby the Good People may be \ brought back to a house which they \ haw deserted. FAIRIES ! — whatsoever sprite

Near about us dwells — You wlio roam the hills at night,

You who haunt the dells —

Where you harbour, hear us ! By the Lady Hecate's might,

Hearken and come near us !

Though we greatly fear, alack !

Cloddish unbelief Angered you and made you pack

To our present grief,

Hearts you shall not harden : Bathe your hurts and come you buck

Here to house and garden !

By the oak and ash and thorn,

By the rowan tree, This was done ere we were born :

Kith nor kin are we

Of the folk whose blindness Shut you out with scathe and scorn.

Banished with unkindness.

Sea, wo call you, hands entwined,

Standing at our door, With the glowing hearth behind

And the wood before.

Thence, where you are lurking, Back we bring you, bring and bind

With our magic's working.

Lo, our best we give for cess,

Having naught above Handsel of our happiness,

Seizin of our love.

Take it then, O fairies ! Homely gods that guard and bless,

Little kindly Lares.

WHAT OUR EEADEES THINK OF US.

The Daily Expresx having invited its readers to intimate their opinion of that journal, Mr. Punch decided also to give the grumblers a chance of saying what they think of his production, and he now publishes a typical selection of the letters which have reached him : —

Sin, — I gave up your journal many years ago on account of its partisanship, and never read it now. Only last week I came across a paragraph in my copy which made me throw the paper into the waste-paper basket.

Yours faithfully, VKHITAS.

Sin, — Why is it you always favour the Tories?

Yours faithfully, WELSH MEMBER.

Sin, — If you continue to publish cartoons with a pronounced Radical bias 1 am afraid you v/ill lose at least one OLD SUBSCRIBER.

(5.35 A.M. workman's train.) Sill. " 'Uixo, ?EKB ; GOT A JOB, THEN?" 'Erb. "I AIN'T COIN' UP TO LON'ON FOB A TANGO LESSON, I GIVE YOU MY WOKD."

Sin, — I object to the advertisements. I think it would bo a good move if you were to drop these, increase the num- ber of pages, and reduce the price to a halfpenny. In taking this course you would have the support of several influential members of my parish, in addition to myself. Yours faithfully, A COUNTRY PARSON.

SIR, — What your paper needs is light relief. Could you not give us a little humour now and then ? Yours faithfully, A POPULAR WRITER.

P.S. — The last MS. you returned to me was very much crumpled. Please be more careful in the future.

SIR, — I think it a pity you publish jokes. In this age, when all things-- even our dear Bishops — are considered fit subjects for jest, we could do with one serious-minded paper. Trusting you will think this over,

Yours faithfully, HITCHY KIKUYU.

SIR, — You should see our American comic papers. Yours faithfully,

WASHINGTON G. BUSTER.

SIR, — I find the blank pages at the back of the cartoons very useful for making notes on. Could you not ex- tend this feature?

Yours faithfully, PROFESSOR.

SIR, — I think you would do well to cater more for women — who, after all, are a rising sex. A page each week devoted to modern fashions would not 1)0 at all out of place in your paper.

Yours faithfully, EVK.

SIR, — In my opinion your paper is the cleverest in the country — nay in the world. Nowhere else is such ex- quisite literary discrimination shown. I enclose a small contribution for your consideration, and am, Yours faithfully, CONSTANT READER.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[.TANUAUY 7, 1914.

THE PAPER-CHASE.

I ARRIVED at homo at three o'clock on a frosty afternoon.

foundation. A jog-trot seems the easiest thing in the world, but after two hundred yards the temptation to lapse

i .-until ms itu niMiii, i.u 1-..IUV, « v/.™»» «». .. ^«uv_, U.I..W....UU... . into a walk becomes irresistible. I will dwell no further Now," thought I, "I shall have a quiet time before tea] on my own experiences, but transfer myself in imagination and shall be able to write a few letters and start my article." j to the hounds who were chasing mo. Afterwards I heard

so much of their exploits that I almost came to fool I

It was a dream of usefully employed leisure, but it didn't last long.

I found the whole family, with the addition of a little boy- friend, gathered together in a very purposeful and alarming way in the library There was about them an undefinable air of the chase, for they were all well-bootad and belled, and Peggy had a largo clasp-knife dangling at her waist. " It is for the hare," she said, " when we catch him."

"The hare?" I said. " What hare?"

" You," said the lady of the house cheerfully, " are to be the hare. You are to run till you are cooked, and then you will be caught."

'• What madness is this? " I said.

"It's not madness a bit," said Helen indignantly. "It's a paper-chase."

"And I,"saidRosie, "have torn up all The Timescs."

" And I," said John, who is not always sure of his tenses, though lie is very voluble, " have tored up The Daily Xcirses."

"That's capital," I said with enthusiasm. " A paper- chase is the best fun in the world. I '11 see you start and give you a cheer."

"You can't do that," said Helen firmly, " because we 've settled that you 're to carry the bag and be the hare."

"Come, come," I said, "this is an unworthy proposal. Would you chase your more than middle-aged father over the open country? Never. How could he look the village in the face if he were to be sjon scattering little bits of paper from a linen bag? He would fall in their e'sti-

shared in their daring and been a party to their final success. From the garden door the lino led across the ron'i i

i

"TWELFTH NIGHT" (JAN. G).

Mr. Lloi/d George (as Malvolio). "Pool, there was never man so notoriously abused." — Act IV., Scene '2.

on to a track skirting the railway. This piece was taken at a brisk pace, the scent being breast-high. A shoot might have covered the whole pack. Then came a hairpin turn over the level crossing, a swing to the right and a trudge up the hill. Half-way up there were gates to the. right and the left, and here the blown but wary hare had laid his first false trail. This unsuspected device roused the utmost indignation, and doubts were freely expressed as to its being legitimate. John was sent to the right to investigate ; Peggy went off to the left, which proved to be

the true trail, and in a very short time the dauntless five were once more in full cry. Bosie, who is a reader of books, afterwards said that no sleuth-hounds could have done the thing better. So by paths and ploughed fields and over gates and stiles the dreadful chase continued until there came another chock. "These," said Helen, pointing to some pieces of paper, " are not newspaper. They are bits of letters." It was too true. The Timcscs and The Ihiihj Nctvses had given out, and the hare, omitting nothing that might lead to his destruction, had torn up all his available correspondence. It threw the

pack out for a few minutes, but they rallied. In another hundred-and-fifty yards they ran into their hare, who,

niation and would drag you all -with him in his full. John," 1 said, " you would not have your father fall, would you? "

"It would make me laugh," said John, and the rest seemed to think that this callous remark settled the matter.

"Anyhow," I said, "I must have plenty of law."

" \\ n \Vf»n f". M n T'r» a mr la vn " <i<i i /] TT^I ,. »-. ,..1, „ ! „ .

gent

We won't have any law," said Helen', who is an intelli- ; child ; " it 's all nuarrollint's."

Law," I said, "is the embodiment of human wisdom. In this case it means that I 'm going to have ten minutes' start. Everyone of you must pledge his or her honour not to move until I 've been gone ten minutes."

They made no difficulty about this, and, the lady of the

house having appointed herself time-keeper and having

"d to have a large tea ready for us when we returned,

I was sent on my way with a bag of paper and many shrill

shouts of encouragement.

case

paperless and letterless, had taken refuge behind a tree and was ignominiously hauled out. So ended our great Christmas paper-chase, an event which must remain justly celebrated both for the ardour with which it was undertaken and for the endurance with which it was pursued. What a chatter there was as we returned, what a narration of glorious incidents of pace, of skill and of cunning defeated by greater cunning. Falls there had been and shin-scrapes and the tearing of skirts and stock- ings, and legends were made up and told again and again. And at home the lady of the house had to hear it all once more, and the tea she gave us was voted the best in the world.

Copy of letter to Clerk of the Peace in reply to Jury

Summons :

PEAR SIR,— Your to hand re Jany 9/14

Sumons to Quarter Sessions

i beg to be excused from this as I have ann absess forming under a daresay; they fancy themselves as ' bad tooth and at the present time my face is very much swollen.

further that the 9th being a red letter day "in my life being the

runners on the strength of their remembered boyish feats, - » ,-...„ . lcu „,.

and of certain more recent runs when they have lingered i -v on whic1' m.v dear wife passed away too long over breakfast and have had to" catch a train I warn them not to build a paper-chase on so slender a

and I have understood that nil those over CO yrar of age was exempt from these things. So I shall bo extrccmly obligid if you could free me this time answer by bearer will oblig your respectfully

JANUAET 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

15

AFTER A BAD DAY'S GOLF

"HEBE WE ABE AGAIN."

CONTINENTAL INTELLIGENCE.

AN extraordinary domestic tragedy is reported from a remote province of Poland. A beautiful young woman, named Vera Alexandrina Polianowski, who had been married only about two years, was expecting the return home of her husband, a sailor. During his absence of five months a mournful calamity had befallen her in an affection of the larynx, which threatened to de- prive her temporarily ot the power to articulate. Realising her impending affliction, she had taught a grey parrot, which her husband had left with her, to exclaim repeatedly from just inside the door of her cottage, in joyous accents that bore no inconsiderable resemblance to her own once melodious voice, these touching words, " Enter, dearest Vladi- mir, and console me for my misfortune ! "

It chanced, however, that before marrying Vladimir Polianowski, the sailor, Vora Alexandrina had had a lover in poor circumstances named Vladimir Crackovitch, whom, with the thought- lessness of a beautiful young girl, she had encouraged to got rich as quickly as he could in America and then return

to claim her as his bride. Vladimir Crackovitch had taken her at her word. With the silent determination of a great soul, he had amassed about a hundred thousand dollars in America in less than four years, and only two o: three minutes before Vera Alex- andrina's husband was due to arrive he himself stood at the cottage door with folded arms, asking himself if he should or should not enter and reproach Yera Alexandrina for her inconstancy.

His hesitation was suddenly overcome by the parrot. "Enter, dearest Vladimir, and console me for my misfortune ! " it cried eagerly from within, and, not for an instant doubting that it was an invitation from the woman whom ho still loved fondly in spite of her perfidy, and being unaware of her laryngeal affliction, he bounded into the house and hurried from room to room until he found Vera Aloxandrina Polianowski.

But Vladimir, the sailor, had already in the meantime, from the top of an adjacent lane, beheld Vladimir Cracko- vitch at the door of his home, and, being a man of the most blindly passionate and jealous impulses,; his next procedure may 'be imagined.

Several hours later a neighbour called at the cottage and discovered the three corpses in one sad heap : Vera Alex- andrina Polianowski, shot through the breast ; at her side, Vladimir Cracko- vitch, with a bullet in each eye; and, still clutching his revolver, Vladimir, the sailor, seated upon his grirn cushion of the dead, his back supported against the wall under the domestic lamplit icon, with a smile of hellish satisfaction frozen upon his lips and the remaining three bullets buried in his heart.

The above is not necessarily a true story. It is a specimen of the small- print news with which the rather young Assistant Sub-Editor of The Dul- landshire Chronicle (established 1763) is permitted, occasionally, to divert those of The Chronicle's subscribers who take an intelligent interest in con- tinental affairs.

"You know the ' Tziganes, ' don't you? — those marvellous gentlemen in red coats with sleek dark singlets, exotic complexions, and bold, rolling black eyes." — Sunday Chronicle.

Strictly speaking, singlets, of whatever colour, should be worn under the coat.

16

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 7, 1914.

THE HUNTSMAN'S STORY.

1 ii F. .urn the huntsman calling as he drew Threeacre Spinney;

He found a fox and hunted him and handled him ere night,

And his voice upon the hill-side was as golden as a guinea,

And I ventured he'd done nicely — most respectful and

polite —

Jig-jogging hack to kennels, and the stars were shining bright.

Old Jezebel and Jealous they were trotting at his stirrup ; The road was clear, the moon was up, 'twas but a mile

or so;

He got the pack behind him with a chirp and with a chirrup, And said he, "I had the secret from my gran'dad long ago, And all the old man left me, Sir, if you should want to know.

" And lie was most a gipsy, Sir, and spoke the gipsy lingos, But he knew of hounds and horses all as NIMROD might

have know'd : When we 'd ask him how lie did it, he would say, ' You

little Gringos,

I learnt it from a lady that I met upon the road ; In the hills o' Connemara was this wondrous gift bestowed.'

" Connemara — County Galway — he was there in 1830 ; He was taking hounds to kennel, all alone, he used to say,

And the hills of Connemara, when the night is falling dirty, Is an ill place to be left in when the dusk is turning grey, An ill place to be lost in most at any time o' day.

"Adown the dismal mountains that night it blew tremendous, A-sobbing like a giant and a-snorting like a -whale,

When he saw beside the sheep-track (' Holy Saints,' says

he, ' defend us ! ')

A mighty dainty lady, dressed in green, and sweet and pale, And she rode an all-cream pony with an Arab head and tail.

" Says she to him, ' Young gentleman, to you I 'd be beholden

If you 'd ride along to Fairyland this night beside o' me;

There's a fox that eats our chickens — them that lays the

eggs that 's golden — • And our little fairy mouse-dogs, ah, 'tis small account

they '11 be, Sure it wants an advertising pack to gobble such as he ! '

" So gran'dad says, ' Your servant, Miss,' and got his hounds

together, And the mountain-side flew open and they rode into the

hill ;

1 Your country 's one to cross,' says he, and rights a stirrup- leather,

And he found in half-a-jift'ey, and he finished with a kill ; And the little fairy lady, she was with 'em with a will.

" Then ' O,' says she, ' young man,' says she, ' 'tis lonesome

here in Faerie, So won't you stay and hunt wilh us and never more to

roam, And take a bride '—she looks at him — ' whose youth can

never vary, Witli hair as black as midnight and a breast as white as

foam ? ' And 'Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, 'but I 've got a

wife at home ! '

"Then, 'O, young man,' says she, ' young man, then you

shall take a bounty,

A bounty of my magic that may grant you wishes three ; Come make yourself the grandest man from out o' Galway

County

To Dublin's famous city all of my good gramarye ? ' And, ' Thank you, Miss,' says gran'dad, ' but such ain't no use to me.'

" But he said, since she was pressing of her fairy spells and

forces, He'd take the threefold bounty, lest a gift he'd seem to

scorn : He'd ask, beyond all other men, the tricks o' hounds and

horses,

And a voice to charm a woodland of a soft December morn, And sons to follow after him, all to the business born.

"And — but here we are at home, Sir. Yes, the old man

was a terror

For his fairies and his nonsense, yet the story 's some- ways right ; He 'd the trick o' hounds and horses to a marvel — and no

error; And to hear him draw a woodland was a pride and a

delight ; And — was it luck entirely, Sir, I killed my fox to-niijlit '"

THE LITTLE WONDER.

THE crowd had gone, the lights had been extinguished, and the doors of the music-hall were shut. The Little Wonder was tired after the performance ; his attempt to do the double somersault had strained him, and his failure had brought a whipping. Although the outhouse in which he was to lie was cold and damp and smelt horribly, he was glad when his master thrust him into it, and he was content to lie down in the straw and forget his misery in sleep.

He dreamt a beautiful dream. He dreamt that he was a master, and that he was presenting to a crowded audience what he had billed as "A Marvel of the Twentieth Century" — a performing man. The man wras a creature with a pink face, oily hair, and a black moustache; and the Little Wonder, in his capacity as master, made the Marvel bark like a dog, whereat the audience yelped its approval. Then the collar of a member of the audience was handed on to the stage, while the Marvel was blindfolded, and, after sniffing the collar, ho succeeded in tracking down its owner — like a dog again. And in whatever trick the Marvel did, the Little Wonder was close behind him, looking so friendly and threatening him with low growls at the same time. If the Marvel happened to remember for a moment his miserable condition and to look unhappy, his master would look still more kindly and threaten even more sternly. Then came the moment when the orchestra stopped suddenly, and the kettledrum rolled, and the eyes of the audience were fixed upon the Marvel. For this remarkable performing man was scratching in a tub of earth to find a bone — just like a real dog; and that was his greatest trick. When he had successfully performed it, his master (the Little Wonder) presented him with a twopenny cigar clothed in a flashy cummerbund, to show how generously he rewarded achievements. Then, as the curtain fell, he retired with many bows — and in the wings gave the Marvel a hot time for shirking the biscuit trick.

I question whether the Little Wonder in real life would have so ill-treated any creature ; but things are different in dreams ; and, as he slept, a smile seemed to come into the shaggy face of. this little Irish terrier.

" In a fierce game at llfracombe yesterday morning several houses were partially unroofed, and an arcade blown in." — Scotsman.

Where was the referee ?

JANUARY 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

17

KECOED RISKS.

(.4 Sequel to "Narrow

THE report that M. PADEBEWSKI has been huutcd by Nihilists out of Denver has suggested to the Editor of The Musical Mirror the happy thought of circularising a number of prominent musicians with a view to ascertaining the most dangerous experiences they havo ever undergone.

Sir FREDERICK BRIDGE writes to say that the worst quarter of a minute he over spent was while tarpon fishing off the coast of Florida, when a gigantic tarpon, weighing some 400 Ihs., leaped into the boat with its mouth wide open. With great presence of mind the famous organist thrust into the monster's gaping jaws a full score of STHAUSS'S Elektra, which he was study- ing between the casts, and tho tarpon at once leaped out of the boat and was never seen or heard of again.

Madame MELBA'S most perilous ex- perience was on a tour in the Far East, when the liner in which she was travelling was caught by a tidal wave and hurled with enormous velocity towards the rocky coast of Sumatra. Noticing that a large whale was follow ing the vessel, and remembering the peculiar susceptibility of these giant mammals to musical sounds, Madame MELBA sang the sccna, " Ocean, thou mighty monster," with such persuasive force that the whale allowed itself to be made fast with a hawser and then towed the liner back safely into the open sea.

Mr. Bamborough (formerly M. 13am- berger) recounted the episode, already alluded to in these columns, when he was partially eaten by cannibals in the Solomon Islands ; but the details are too harrowing for reproduction, even in a condensed form. It is interesting to learn, however, that a punitive expedi- tion was despatched by the British Government to avenge the insult, as a result of which Mr. Bamborough was awarded an indemnity of 1,000 bales of copra, 20 tons of sandalwood, and £3,000 worth of tortoiseshell.

Sir FREDERICK COWEN, in reply to the circular, states that the closest call lie ever had was when adjudicating at a Welsh Eisteddfod. In consequence of an unpopular award he was besieged in his hotel by an infuriated crowd and only escaped by changing clothes with a policeman.

Professor Quantock de Banville re- lates how, while obtaining local colour for his new Choral Symphony, he was attacked by a gorilla in Central Africa, but tamed the mighty simian by the power of his eye.

In conclusion we may note that the

THE WEEK-END AND THE EXHAUSTED MIDDLE.

TIME— Wednesday, 4 JP..V.

Client (in office-boy). "CAN I BEE Mn. BROWN- ?" Office-liny. " AWAY FOR THE WEEK-END, Sm." Client. "WHICH?" Office-Bon. "NEXT, SIR."

only disappointing answer was received from Signer Crinuto, the famous pianist, who replied, "I have never had a close shave, and never intend to have one."

" A Christmas Tree Kiitcrtaimncnt will be hold in Pelican Lake school house on Tuesday, Dec. 23. Everybody welcome, no admission." — Vermilion Standard (Alberta. No relation to The Sporting Times). You are at perfect liberty to hang about outside.

"No one can deny that it is essential London should have a thoroughly equipped shin hospital." — Adri. in " Sphere,"

No footballer, anyhow.

From a General Knowledge (sic) Examination.

The Cat and Mouse Act is an Act by which a cat may not kill a mouse unless when necessary.

The Apocalypse is an ailment ono has apolcalyptic fits.

Sea-legs are when you don't have logs but a tail.

The All Ked Route is the human throat or swallow.

Ten instruments for an orchestra are banjo, pianola, concertina, mandoline, psalteries, shawms, bagpipes, bells to clash with, violins, and bassinette.

To die in harness means to die married.

18

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 7, 11)14.

AT THE PLAY.

"THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL." EMERSON says somewhere that there are great ways of borrowing ; that, if you can contrive to transmute base

the fashionable world, where, as you know, everybody thinks the same thing at the same time, let oft' , recitatives

perhaps a little cloying, but it was all quite nice and sympathetic. Still, I am afraid I agreed more than I was meant

from time to time in unison. And j to with the speech of pretty little Miss

there was much talk about " Robin Hood's Barn," a thing I was never told

metal into fine, nobody will worry as , about at an ago when I am sure it

and fantastic humour Wonderland, passed it

would have given me sincere pleasure. . Here and there the symbolism was obvious to the point of crudity ; but

you

searched in vain for a consistent

scheme. The father in his banknotes lashed to a ponderous safe was an easy personification of the slavery of wealth, and the pantomime ducks and drakes were simple to understand as sym- bolizing the career of a spendthrift (though the father was never that) ;

to where you got your base metal from. But, when it is the other way about, I think you must not be surprised if people ask you where you lifted your gold. And the answer, in the case of Miss ELEANOR GATES, is that the nuggets were the property of LEWIS CARROLL. She has taken the sprightly of Alice in through the

alembic (if that is the word) of her American imagination, and the result is something that hardly lets you smile at all. It is not a typical product of native industry, but even that does not make it much easier for us to grasp the secret of its success over there. It would seem that nearly all Transatlantic humour, indigenous or adoptive, is apt, like certain wines, to suffer in the process of sea-transit.

Her "Poor Little Rich Girl" is poor because her parents are too rich. Her father is too busy with finance and her mother with social climbing to spare time for their daughter's company, so they leave her to the care of governesses and menials. Her nurse, anxious for an evening out at a picture- palace, gives the child an overdose of sleeping - mixture, with the result that she nearly dies of it. In the course of delirious dreams

she finds herself in the " Tell-Tale 1'he Hobby Rider (Mr. CIIEKHV) takes the temperature of sentence of Ctiacomo Casale has been Forest" (which threatens to recall The Poor Little Kich Girl (Miss STEPHANIE BELL). remitted by King Victor Emmanuel.

• The hound is Mr. ERNEST HEXDHIE (TVie J/nn «>/io wafas Casale's astonishment at the altered

world in which he found himself on coming out of prison was unbounded. He immediately " — Daily Ejrpress.

Unfortunately our contemporary stops there, and leaves us all in an agony of doubt. Our own view is that CASALE bought the Mimosa Edition of a certain rival journal, and that the Editor of The Express only just censored the paragraph in time.

STEPHANIE BELL, when she told us before the curtain that they would cable to the author in America to say how glad we were that it was all over.

Mr. ERNEST HENDKIE, who was translated from an organ-grinder to a maker of faces, played very soundly, but seemed to me a little too deliberate and conscious in his speech. I found a more moving appeal in the slight pathetic sketch of an old faithful butler by Mr. GEORGE MALLETT. Mr. FEWLASS LLEWELLYN might easily, with a little assistance from the author, have . extracted a lot more fun from his Plumber. Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY bad a simple and popular part as the good Doctor. Miss HELEN HAYE'S cleverness was wasted on the character of a sinuous gover- ness. Miss EVELYN WEEDEN did all that was asked of the mother in both worlds — the world of fancy and the world of fact. But, to speak truth, there was little attraction in the performance apart from the personality of Miss STEPHANIE BELL in the title role. If the play is to succeed — and its hope lies in the good temper and high spirits of holiday time — the author will owe most to the natural charm of this delightful young lady, who played throughout with a most engaging sincerity and ease. O. S.

WITH THE "TELL-TALE FOREST" HUNT.

After fifty years of good conduct in the Aneona Penitentiary, tho life

The Palace of Truth), and here all „ .

the picturesque phrases which she FacK]' wcll-known as The D°3 '" 2 '» Blu° has been in the childish habi.t of mis- but why, you asked, did tho double- interpreting in their literal sense — "a " bee in tho bonnet," to "ride hobbies," "to play ducks and drakes," "to pay the piper," and so forth — are realised in human or animal form. With these are mixed tho familiar figures of her waking life, all of them exposed in their true characters so that you can distinguish the devotion of the doctor (who now appears in pink because lie likes riding hobbies) and the affection of the teddy-bear (now ex- panded to human proportions) from the serpentine nature of the governess and

the double-faced dealings of the nurse. Her father, who is a stranger to her, comes on dressed in banknotes and chained to a safe ; her mother, also a stranger, wears a society bee which buzzes in the place where her bonnet would have been ; and five samples of

faced nurse exhaust all her spare moments and our patience pirouetting about the stage? Did she represent the levity of the dual life? Not at all; her actions bore no moral significance : she was just giving a literal illustration of a phrase — " to dance attendance."

I don't know how the children in the audience appreciated all this, but I confess that some of it left me wondering whether my intelligence was too raw or too ripe for the fancies of this Wonder-Zoo-Land.

The First Act, which showed the child's life at home, had fallen altogether flat ; but the Third, in which she wakes in her pretty bedroom, restored from the jaws of death to her repentant parents, put us on better terms with ourselves, for we were not really hard to please. The sweetness of it was

" The wireless station at Kamina, in Togo, German West Afii:a, has received a number of wireless tclcgians from the station at Nauen, a distance of 3,348 miles. Tho Kainina station will not be able to reply until its new plant, which is being set up with the utmost speed, has been completed." — Iteu-ler. Indeed, the opinion is held by some that it would be quicker to reply by post.

"Tho prison buildings themselves are separated from this wall by a yard measuring twenty-five years across." — Daily Dispatch.

Of course a yard ought to measure thirty-six inches.

JANCAE7 7, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

19

English Horse Dealer (to Irish liorse dealer from whom lie is buying a liorse). '• How 's IIE EKED? "

Irish Dealer. "WELL, HOW WOULD YE LIKE HIM BRED? IF HE WAS FOB SIR PATHKICK UP AT THE CASTLE HE'D BE BY RED EAGLE OUT AV AN ASECTIC MARE, BUT YE CAN SUIT YERSILP."

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.) IF for nothing else, Mr. JACK LONDON'S latest story would deserve a welcome for its topicality. In these days of strikes and industrial conflict every one might be glad to know what a writer of his individuality has to say about unions and blacklegs and picketing. True, this is hardly the kind of thing that one has learnt to associate with his name ; and for that reason perhaps I best liked The Valley of the Moon (MILLS AND BOON) after its hero and heroine had shaken the unsavoury dust of the town from their feet and set them towards the open country. But much had to happen first. The hero was big Billy Roberts, a teamster with the heart of a child and the strength of a prize-fighter — which was in fact his alternative profession. He married Saxon Brown ("a scream of a name" her friend called it when introducing them to each other), and for a time their life together was as nearly idyllic as newly-wedded house- keeping in a moan street could permit it to bo. Then came the lean years: strikes and strike-breaking, sabotage and rioting, prison for Billy, and all but starvation for Saxon. Perhaps you know already that peculiar gift of Mr. JACK LONDON'S that makes you not only see physical hardship but sufl'er it? I believe that after these chapters the reader of them will never again ba able to regard a newspaper report of street-lighting with the same detachment as before, so vivid are they, so haunting. In the end, how- ever, as I say, we find a happier atmosphere. The adven- tures of liillij and Soj'on, tramping it in search of a home, soon make their urban terrors seem to them and the reader a kind of nightmare. Hero Mr. LONDON is at his delightful best, and his word-pictures of country scenes are as freaii

and fine as anything he has yet done. The Valley of the Moon, in short, is really two stories — one grim, one pleasant, and both brilliantly successful.

It is perhaps a mistake to read a novel at a sitting, since the reaction is too sudden and the reader is apt to find the real life and the real people surrounding him highly unsatis- factory by contrast. Mr. JAMES PKOSPER has reduced mo to this state by The Mountain Apart (HEINEMANN), but it is my duty as critic to disregard my personal feelings and judge impartially between the fictitious and the actual. Duty, then, compels me to say that the Mi: Henry Harding who at the last solved all the difficulties of Hose Hilton by the simple expedient of a romantic proposal is a hollow fraud. The position was this: Rose was a woman of flesh and blood and all the human limitations, blessed and cursed with all the intricacies allotted by Providence to the sex. Her trouble was that she had to face life as it is, and this she found very trying. She suffered from her marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather, and from her abortive grapplings both with the abstract problems of her soul and the concrete mischiefs of her female friends. The influence of IUSKN and a militant Suffragette didn't help her medita- tions, and when her husband died she had the mortification to find that the first man of her own age who professed love to her was no man but a series of artistic poses. Of her difficulties, real enough up to this point, the solution was the fraudulent Henri/, fraudulent because he was just a stage hero whoso actions and conversation resembled nothing on earth. Henry, in fact, is the sort of person that doesn't exist, and, if he did, would be intolerable to everybody except a novel reader worked up to a climax. I doubt if even such a reader could stand the fellow on a

20

PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON ClIAftlVARI.

[JANUABY 7, I'Jl I.

longer acquaintance. To this conclusion all must come in their saner moments, and yet most will, I think, finish the book in one spell and be under the delusion at the end of it that all their troubles would be solved at once if only their friends would talk and conduct themselves more like Henry.

In Theodore Roosevelt : an Autobiography (MACMILLAN) the ex-President shows us how it was done : how he started life as a weakly lad and by perseverance made himself what he is to-day. But what is lie? That is the insoluble problem. No two people, least of all Americans, seem to agree on the point. I have heard Mr. ROOSEVELT called everything from

since it is difficult to understand why anyone so British iu her independence and aloofness should have surrendered her heart to the first good-looking Frenchman who came her way, we never get to be on very intimate terms with that organ. The construction of the story tends to break up the action and make its interest desultory. While we are spending a hundred odd pages at one time and fifty odd at another in Paris and Brittany we forget, very contentedly, about Oriel; and while we are in residence at Oxford wo are practically cut off — no doubt, to our spiritual gain — from the things of France. The authors seem to belong to the solid old-fashioned school that had

a charlatan to the Saviour of his Country. For myself, if | the patience to spread itself and leave as little as might be i may intrude my own view, I have always admired the to the imagination. I suspect one of them of supplying "Bull Moose." But, since nobody on this earth, in America the foreign information and the other of being the- corre- ct out of it, can really understand American politics, my spondcnt on home and clerical affairs. I don't know how respect lias been for Mr. ROOSEVELT'S private rather than many of them — if any — are women, but I seem to trace a his public performances. And in the view that he is, take female hand in some of the domestic details. But the

him all round, a pretty good sort of man, this book has confirmed me. lie has told his story well. Nor is the Power of the Human " I " too much in evidence. It is just a simple, straight- forward, tale of a parti- cularly interesting life. \Vhatever your views on Mr. ROOSEVELT may be, the fact remains that ho has boon a cowbo\r, a police commissioner of Now York, a soldier on active service, and the President of God's Country, sub ; and a man must have an unusually negative per- sonality if he cannot make entertainment- for us out of that. Now nobody has ever sus- pected Mr. ROOSEVELT of a negative per-

book contains strong matter, too — both of narrative and charac- terization; as in the dying of Armand (it1 Id- j lioche-Giiyon, and the j picture of his lover, | Madame cle Vigcrie. i And there is something j of the inspiration of | the Holy Grail in that i "Vision Splendid" which heartens Tris- Irain Hungerfonl to make sacrifice of his passion that he may give his soul unshared to the service of the Church.

IMPRESSIOS OF A FOOTBALL MATCH GATHERED FEOM OUR ILLUSTRATED DAILY

sonality; and it is certain that he has told a very enter- taining story. There are in this volume battle, murder, biiclden death, outlaws, cowboys, boars, American politics,

Until I had read Mr. A. RADCLYKFE DUG- MOKE'S book and re- velled in his most won- derful photographs I had never wished to be a caribou ; but

now

and the author's views on the English blackbird, all hand- caribous (for, as the author says, "In England it is quite the

somcly illustrated, and the price is only what you would (or would not) pay for a stall to see a musical comedy. It 's a bargain.

that I have fully digested The. Eomancc. of the Newfoundland Caribou (HKINKMANN) there is only one animal whoso lot in life I really envy. This is due not to a natural sympathy with

Between the rising of the partisans of the Duchesse m: BKHKI and the dawn of the Tractarian movement there would not seem, at first blush, to be any very close associa- tion apart from the coincidence of their dates ; yet in The Vision Splendid (MUURAY), by D. K. BHOSTEK and G. W. TAYLOR, a link is furnished in the person of an English clergyman's daughter, who marries a Frenchman of the "Legitimist" aristocracy, and is loved, before and after- wards, by an enthusiastic disciple of the Oriel Common Room. But the link is too slight to give a proper unity to the tale; and we have to fall back upon contrasts. Even so, the two modes of life which made up, between

them, the exparienco of the Comtesse. de la Jiochc-Gw/on\ that it is true. If I ever have to argue about the habits of (nfe lloratia Grcmnlle) are too cleanly severed by the caribous, there is one shot that will remain in my locker

brought into sharp anti- until the very end of the argument, and it will be, " Well, of the one woman. And, DUGMOHE says so."

exception to find anyone who knows what tho caribou is, unless ho happens to have been to Newfoundland or certain parts of Canada," and I was never one of the exceptions), but to the extraordinary manner in which Mr. DuOMOBK has imparted the affection that he himself entertains for his chosen beast. Although ho shoots with no more formid- able a weapon than a camera, the dangers and risks that ho has run would appal many of the sportsmen whose aim is to destroy and not to study the lives of animals. He has, however, no contempt for hunters, provided that they will play the game and give a fair chance to their quarry. Another point in his favour, which appeals mightily to me, is that after nins consecutive seasons in Newfoundland he confesses that his knowledge of the caribou is still incomplete. This means that, when he does make an absolute statement, you may be pretty certain

estranging Channel to be thesis, except in the heart

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

21

CHARIVARIA.

Wi<: hear that the CHANCELLOR lias,

Not sixty people visited " La Gio- conda " on one of the days after her return to Paris, when a charge of four

while in North Africa, been making a shillings was made for admission, and, close study of camels, with a view to j towards the end of the day, the smile is ascertaining the nature of the last straw said to have worn a rather forced look, which breaks their backs.

Who are the best selling modern

We

It is denied that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, in order to give a practical demon- stration of his belief in the disarma- ment idea, has given instructions that all precautions against attacks on him by Suffragettes are to be discontinued.

::: : :S

The Balkan situation is considered to have undergone a change for the worse owing to the purchase by Turkey of the

For our-

authors?

are asks a contemporary.

do not like to mention names, but, as readers, we have been sold by several popular writers lately.

We are not surprised that many persons are becoming rather disgusted with our little amateurish attempts at Winter. Thousands now go to Switzer- land, and Sir ERNEST SHACKLETON is going even further afield. Meanwhile

Dreadnought Bio de Janeiro. selves we cannot subscribe to this view. Is it likely that the Turks, after paying over £2,000,000 for her, will risk losing this valuable vessel in war? , ,

•!-

On the day of the marriage of the Teuton Coal-King's daughter to Lord EEDES- DALE'S son last week there was snow on the ground. The Goal-King must have shown up very well against

it- * ' ,;:

Sir EEGINALD BRADE is to be the new permanent secre- tary at the War Office. Let 's hope he has no connection with the firm of Gold Brade and Bed Tape.

It has been discovered that members of a certain Eskimo tribe have an extra joint in their waists. The news has caused . the Government does nothing to stem the greatest excitement among cannibal i this emigration, tribes all over the world, and it is j expected that there will be a huge de- The boxing craze among the French mand for these people. Where there continues. M. VEDBINES, the intrepid are big families to feed the extra joint i aviator, has taken it up and been will be invaluable.

PANTOMIME FAUNA.

Extract from the note-book of tlte dramatic critic of " Tlie Wamplon Clarion" :—

cake was eaten which had been put away on their marriage day in 1863.

" *""

A soap combine, with a nominal capital of £35,000,000, is said to have been formed to exploit China, and the Mongols may yet cease to be a yellow race. ... ...

The latest tall story from America is to the effect that some burglars who broke into the Presbyterian church at Syracuse, New York, stole a parcel of sermons.

= ;

YOUNG MOTHER'S SWAN-SONG.

[" It was better for a young mother to start her new chapter unhampered : the less she knew the better it was for her." _ Mrs. Annie Swan.']

How do you take a baby up ?

What does it like to eat ? Do you put rusks in a feeding

cup? Have you to mince its

meat? Haven't I heard them speak

of pap ?

Isn't there caudle too ? How do you keep the thing

on your lap ? W hy are its eyes askew ? Is it a touch of original sin

Causes an infant to squall, Or trust misplaced in a

safety-pi a Lost in the depths of a

shawl ? When do you "shorten" a

growing child (Is it so much too long) ? Should legs be lopped or the

scalp be filed ? Both in a sense seem

* *

*

"OUR RESOLUTION IS TO GO FORWARD IN THE NEW YEAR."

advertises the London General Omni- bus Co. A capital idea, this. Vehicles which simply go backwards are never so satisfactory. ., ^

*

After one - hundred - and - fifty-years' careful consideration the War Office has given permission to the Black Watch and the King's Eoyal Eifle Corps to bear on their regimental colours the honorary distinction " North America, 1763-64," in recognition of services rendered during the war against the Bed Indians.

practising on M. Eoux's ears.

* * *

CROWN

The German become a member of Cabinet Makers' Union.

PRINCE has the Dan/ig Later on he

hopes to become a Chancellor-maker.

:!: •.;:

Another impending apology ? Head- lines from The Daily Chronicle : —

"PNEUMONIA ON THE RAND.

DISCOVERY OF ITS CAUSE.

SIR ALMROTH WHIGHT'S

VACCINE TREATMENT."

* >:;

Could frugality go further ? At the golden wedding celebrations of a Southend couple, a packet of wedding

wrong.

" Kitchy," I think I have heard them say ;

What shall I make it kitch ? " Bo " I believe in a mystic way

Frightens or soothes, but which ? Didn't I see one once reversed.

Patted about the spine ? Is it the way they should all be nursed ?

Will it agree with mine? Surely its gums are strangely bare?

Why does it dribble so? Will reason dawn in that glassy stare

If I dandle it briskly ? OH ! ! ! Grandmothers ! Mothers ! or Instinct,

yon I

Haste with your secret lore! What, oh what shall I, what shall I

do? Baby has crashed to the floor!

" They adjourned to the Village Hell, where each child was presented with a parcel of suitable clothing." — Tonbridge Free Press.

Asbestos, no doubt.

•2-2

PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON C1LUUVAKI.

I.JANUAKY 14, 19M.

A PRANCING PRUSSIAN.

(Shelving hoiv Colonel ro.v REVTER, late of Zabern, appealed to his regiment to (It fend the honour of the At my. The. following speech is based -upon evidence ijiren at the Strassburg trial.)

MY Prussian braves, on whom devolves the mission To vindicate our gallant Army's worth,

Upholding in its present proud position The noblest fighting instrument on earth — •

If, in your progress, any vile civilian Declines the homage of the lifted hat,

Your business is to paint his chest vermilion- Kindly attend to that.

Never leave barracks, when you go a-shopping, Without an escort loaded up with lead;

Always maintain a desultory popping At anyone who wags a wanton head ;

If, as lie passes, some low boy should .whistle With nose in air and shameless chin out-thrust,

Making your scandalised moustaches bristle — Reduce the dog to dust.

I hear a sinister and shocking rumour Touching the native tendency to chaff.

If you should meet with specimens of humour See that our soldiers get the final laugh ;

Fling the facetious corpses in the fountains So as the red blood overflows the brink;

Keep on until the blue Alsatian mountains Turn a reflective pink.

Should any female whom your shadow touches Grudge you the glad, but deferential, eye;

Should any cripple fail to hold bis crutches At the salute as you go marching by ;

Draw, in the KAISER'S name — 'tis rank high treason ; Stun them with sabre-strokes upon the poll;

Then dump them (giving no pedantic reason) Down cellars with the coal.

Be on your guard against all people strolling In cues or twos about the public square

Hard by your quarters; set your men patrolling; Ask every knave what he is doing there ;

And, if in your good wisdom you determine To view their conduct in a dangerous light,

Bring the machine-guns out and blow the vermin Into the Ewiykeit.

Enough ! I leave our honour in your keeping.

What are your bright swords for except to slay ? Preserve their lustre; let me see them leaping Out of their scabbards twenty times a day ; Unless wo smash these craven churls like crockery

To prove our right of place within the sun, Our martial prestige has become a mockery And Deutschland's day is done! O. S.

"The dancing, in the conventional bullet style, of Miss Sybil Roe was quite good."— Wiltshire Times.

"We confess that the bullet style is too fast for us.

:l In all the best dress ateliers classic evening gowns are now bein., exhibited, and in many of these the lines of the corsage closely resemble the draperies to be seen on the Venus do Milo."

Daily Mail. We must go and look at the Venus de Milo's corsage again.

THE NEW JOURNAL-INSURANCE.

[Several newspapers have been roused to a sense of their duties to .'ir readers by the insurance competition between The Clirunii-lf

and The Mail. Yv'e make a few preliminary announcements of ulh'T

insurance schemes which are not yet contemplated.]

VOTES FOR WOMEX. — A copy of the current issue nu

to your front doer insures you absolutely against arson.

Tin-: STAII. — All regular subscribers to The Slur are insured with the propiietors of The J)tii!i/ A'ews for £1,000 in the event of being welshed on any race-course.

THE NATIONAL REVIEW. — Annual subscribers to Ihe' Rational lie-view are guaranteed £10,000 in the event of1 being («) robbed on the highway by a member of the ' present Ministry; (b) defrauded by a member of the present • Ministry; (c) having house burgled by member of the present Ministry; (d) having pocket picked by member of present Ministry ; always excluding any act or acts done by the CHANCELLOB OF THE EXCHEQUER in a strictly official . capacity.

THE CHVRCH TIMES. — All regular subscribers are insured for £500 against excommunication. £1,CC() will be paid to the heirs or assigns of any reader who loses his head in ;i, conflict with a Bishop (Deans, Rural Deans, Canons and Archdeacons being excepted from the benefit of this clause in the policy).

THE ENGLISH REVIEW. — Poetic contributors are insured for £500 in the event of a prosecution under the Blasphemy Laws.

THE DAILY E.\I'HE*H. — You can sleep soundly in your bed, you can sleep soundly in your train, if the current issue of The Daily Express be on your- person. All purchasers arc insured for £10,COO against any conflagra- tions or explosions caused by bombs or combustibles dropped from German airships.

THE BRITISH WEEKLY. — All readers of The Jirilish Weekly are insured for £1,000 in the event of heart-failure caused by shock while reading the thrilling stories provided by SILAS, JOSEPH, TIMOTHY and JEREMIAH HOCKING.

THE RECORD. — £500 will be paid to any annual sub- scriber forcibly detained in a convent, provided that at the time of such detention a copy of the current issue of The /iVri 'id be in his possession. £1,000 will ho paid to the legal representatives of any reader burnt at the stake.

Tin: Ciiii'ci.ETH CHRONICLE.— £3 a week for life, to- gether with a poultry farm on a Sutherland deer-forest, to the owner of any shorn lamb which is found dead in a snow-drift with a copy of the current issue wrapt round it, to keep it warm.

The great world rolls on, but of the master-brains which direct its movement the man in the street knows nothing. He has never heard of the Clerk of the Portland Urban District Council; he is entirely ignorant of Army Order 701.

"Dear Sir" (writes tho Clerk) — "A meeting of the Underbill Members of the Council will be held to-morrow (Saturday), at 3 o'clock p.m., in Spring Gardens (Fortune-swell) for tho. purpose of selecting a site for the Telegraph Post."

"With effect from 1st January, 1914" (says the Arm-y Order) " rewifrging of gun sponges will l>e done by the Ordnance Department' instead of locally as at present."

" Inman was seen to greater advantage at yesterday afternoon's session in this match of 18, COO up, in Kdinburgh, than on any! previous day of the match, scoring 1,083 while Aikeu was aggregating! the mentally afflicted." — Nottingham Guardian.

One must amuse oneself somehow while the other man isj at the table.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.— JANUARY 14, 1914.

A SEA-CHANGE.

TOR* CHORUS (to WISSTOH). " YOU 'YE MADE ME LOVE YOU ; I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT."

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

25

Amiable Uncle (doing some conjuring to amuse Mm children), " SEE, HERE I HAVE A BILLIARD BALL — I AM GOING TO TURN 11 ISTO SOMETHING ELSE." First Bored Youngster (to scamd ditto). " WHY SHOULD HE? IT'S A VEEY NICE BALL."

WHAT TO TELL AN EDITOR.

IN view of The Daily Mail's praise- worthy efforts to instruct applicants for situations in the correct phrasing of letters to prospective employers, we propose to supply a similar long-felt want, and give a little advice as to the kind of letter it is desirable to enclose with contributions to periodicals.

Begin your letter in a friendly vein, hoping the Editor and his people are pretty well. Kemeinber also that Editors like to know something of the charac- ters and histories of their contributors. So let your communication include a rcsuma of your personal and literary career. Don't fall into the error of i nuking your letter too concise.

The following suggestions may serve to indicate some of the lines of thought that you might follow : — •

(1) State where you sent your first manuscript.

(2) What you thought of it, and of ilie Editor who returned it.

(3) Your height and chest measure-

ment (an Editor likes to be on the safe side).

(4) State who persuaded you to take up literature, and give height and chest measurement of same.

(5) Give a short but optimistic de- scription of your contribution, not to exceed in length the contribution itself.

(6) State whether literary genius is rife in your family or has been rife at any time since 10t>6.

(7) Give a list of journals to which you have already sent the en- closed contribution, and state your reasons for supposing that the Editors were misguided. Hint that perhaps, after all, their lack of enterprise was fortunate for the present recipient.

(8) Mention your hobbies and the different appointments you have held since the age of twelve, witli names and addresses of employers. Also give your reasons for remaining as long as you did in each situation.

(9) State how long you have been a subscriber to the journal you are electing to honour, and whether you

think it's worth the money. Point out any little improvements you con- sider desirable in its compilation, and mention other periodicals as perfect examples. Preface these remarks with some such phrase as this : " Pray don't think I want to teach you your business, but —

(10) Give full list (names and ad- dresses) of friends who have promised to buy the paper if your contribution appears.

(11) Give a brief outline, in faultless English, of your religious, political and police court convictions, your views on Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, and any ideas you may have about the Law of Copyright.

Finally, enclose a stamped and addressed envelope for the return of your article.

" It lias always been supposed that Charles I. when Prince of Wales and travelling incognito with the Duke of Buckingham saw and fell in love with Marie Antoinette." Not by us. We always supposed he fell iii. love with SARAH BERNHARDT.

26

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[.JANUARY 14, 1914.

THE SAME OLD STORY.

\\K stood in a circle round the parrot's cage and gazed with interest at its occupant. She (Kvangelinc) \v;is balancing easily on one leg, while with the other leg and her beak she tried to peel a monkey-nut. There are some of us who hate to ho watched at meals, particularly when dealing with the dessert, but Evangeline is not of our number.

" There," said Mrs. Atherley, "isn't she a beauty ? "

I felt that, as the last to be intro- duced, I ought to say something.

"What do you say to a parrot?" I whispered to Miss Atherley.

" Have a banana," suggested Archie.

"I believe you say, ' Scratch-a-poll,' " said Miss Atherley, " but I don't know why."

"Isn't that rather dangerous? Sup- pose it retorted ' Scratch your own,' I shouldn't know a bit how to go on."

"It can't talk," said Archie. "It's quite a baby — only seven months old. But it 's no good showing it your watch ; you must think of some other way of amusing it."

" Break it to me, Archie. Have I been asked down solely to amuse the parrot, or did any of you others want to see me?"

" Only the parrot," said Archie.

Evangeline paid no attention to us. She continued to wrestle with the monkey-nut. I should say that she was a bird not easily amused.

" Can't it really talk at all? " I asked Mrs. Atherley.

"Not yet. You see, she's only just come over from South America, and isn't used to the climate yet."

"Just the p;rsou you'd expect to talk a lot about the weather. I believe you 'vo been had. Write a little note to the poulterers and ask if you can change it. You've got a bad one by mistake."

" We got it as a bird," said Mrs. Atherley with dignity, " not as a gramo- phone."

The next morning Evangelino was as silent as ever. Miss Atherley and I surveyed it after breakfast. It was still grappling with a monkey-nut, but no doubt a different one.

"Isn't it cw going to talk?" I asked. "Really, I thought parrots were con- tinually chatting."

" Yes, but they have to be taught — just like you teach a baby."

"Are jou sure? I quite sro that you have to teach them any special things you want them to say, hut I thought they were all born with a few simple obvious remarks, like ' Poor Polly,' or — or 'Dash LLOYD GEOROK.'"

"I don't think so," said Miss Ather- ley. " Not the green ones."

At dinner that evening, Mr. Atherley being now with us, the question of Evangcline's education was seriously- considered.

" The only proper method," began

Mr. Atherley " By the way," he

said, turning to me, " you don't know anything about parrots, do you?"

" No," I said. " You can go on quite safely."

"The only proper method of teaching a parrot — 1 got this from a man in the City this morning — is to give her a word at a time, and to go 011 repeating it over and over again until she 's got hold of it."

" And after that the parrot goes on repeating it over and over again until you 've got sick of it," said Archie.

" Then wo shall have to be very care- ful what word we choose," said Mrs. Atherley.

" What is your favourite word ? "

" Well, really -

"Animal, vegetable or mineral?" asked Archie.

"This is quite impossible. Every word by itself seems so silly."

" Not ''home ' and ' mother,' " I said reproach fully.

" You shall recite your little piece in the drawing -room afterwards," said Miss Atherley to me. " Think of something sensible now."

" Yes," said Mrs. Atherley. " What's the latest word from London ? "

" Kikuyu."

" What ? "

"I can't say it again," I protested.

" If you can't even say it twice, it 's no good for Evangeline."

A thoughtful silence fell upon us.

" Have you fixed on a name for her yet ? " Miss Atherley asked her mother.

" Evangeline, of course."

" No, 1 mean a name for her to call you. Because if she 's going to call you ' Auntie ' or ' Darling,' or whatever you decide on, you 'd better start by teaching her that."

And then I had a brilliant idea.

" I 've got the very word," I said. " It 's 'hallo.' You see, it's a pleasant form of greeting to any stranger, and it will go perfectly with the next word that she 's taught, whatever it may he."

" Supposing it 's ' wardrobe,' " sug- gested Archie, " or ' sardine'? "

" Why not ? ' Hallo, Sardine ' is the perfect title for a revue. Witty, subtle, neat — probably the great brain of the Revue King has aho.idy evolved it, and is planning the opening scene."

"Yes, 'hallo' isn't at all bad," said Mr. Atherley. "Anyway, it's better than ' Poor Polly,' which is simply morbid. Let 's fix on ' hallo.' "

" Good," said Mrs. Atherloy. Evangeline said nothing, being asleep under her blanket.

••:• :-• :!: * *

I was down first next morning, having forgotten to wind up my watch overnight. Longing for company J took the blanket off Evangeline's cage and introduced her to the world again. She stirred sleepily, opened her eyes and blinked at me.

" Hallo, Evangelino," I said.

She made no reply.

Suddenly a splendid scheme occurred to me. I would teach Evangeline her word now. How it would surprise the others when they came down and said " Hallo " to her, to find themselves promptly answered back !

"Evangeline," I said, "listen. Hallo, hallo, hallo, hallo." I stopped a moment and went on more slowly. "Hallo— hallo— hallo."

It was dull work.

"Hallo," I said, " hallo— hallo- hallo," and then very distinctly, "Hal-fo."

Evangeline looked at me with an utterly bored face.

" Hallo," I said, " hallo— hallo."

She picked up a monkey nut and ate it languidly.

"Hallo," I went on, "hallo, hallo . . . hallo, hallo, HALLO, HALLO . . . hallo, hallo —

She dropped lier nut and roused herself for a moment.

"Number engaged," she snapped, and took another nut.

You needn't believe this. The others didn't when I told them. A. A. M.

From " Notes, Questions and An- swers " in T.P.'s Weekly : — •

" Author wanted, and where the whole poem can be found : —

" Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I'll not ask for wine."

('. E. H.

[Flerrick. A collected edition o! the poems is published by J. M. Dent at Is. net. — ED. N.Q.A.]"

Afterthought by ED. N.Q.A. : " At least I think it 's HKRRICK ... or WORDS- WORTH . . . but wait till the Editor comes back from Algiers. He 's sure to know."

" Sir John Thornycroft kicked oft in a foot- ball charity match at Beinbridge, Islo of Wight, in which the combined ages of the players was 440 years." — Hull Daily Mail.

Why not ?

" M. Timiriazeff, president of the Anglo- IJritisli Chamber of Commerce, followed with a speech." — L'aili/ Telegraph.

Wo like his Anglo-British name.

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

27

WINTER SPORTS.

additional aspects of the fashionable topic that seem to have escaped the irriters of similar articles in. our contemporaries.]

(I.) — BUYING THE HOTEL.

Fou this' game several players are required, who form themselves into one or more parties according to numbers. A player, preferably a woman, is selected as leader, and should possess nerve, coolness, and an authoritative voice. The object of the game is to secure (1) The best rooms ; (2) Tables with a view; (3) The controlling interest in all projects of entertainment. It is an important advantage for the leader to have stayed in the hotel at least once previously. If she is able to announce on arrival, " Here we are as usual ! " and to greet the proprietor and staff' by name, this often gives an initial blow exceedingly hard to parry. English visitors have been proving very adept at the sport this season, with Americans a good second. The German game, on the contrary, is slower and loss subtle.

(II.) — SPOTTING THE PARSON.

An amusing game that has been very popular at many Swiss resorts lately, and one that calls for the qualifications of a quick brain and a keen eye. The universal adoption of sweaters and woollen caps makes the task of the players one of considerable difficulty. Envelope-reading should be forbidden by the rules, and some codes even debar the offering of a Church Times to a suspected stranger. The A thmce.um and Spectator may, however, be freely em- ployed as bait. A simpler version of the same sport called " How MANY SCHOOLMASTERS '.' " is often indulged in between December 20th and January 15th, after which latter date it loses its point.

Other games, seldom chronicled but requiring at least as much skill from their votaries as the better known varieties, are EARLY MORNING SKI-BAGGING — at which the Germans frequently carry all before them — and PRESSING THE PRESS- PHOTOGRAPHER, where the object of all the players is to appear recognizably in a snap-shot for the illustrated journals. At this the record score of three weekly and live daily papers has been held for two successive seasons by the same player, a gentleman whose dexterity is the subject of universal admiration.

THE WONDER ZOO.

CANADA has evolved a novelty described as a " new beef animal," which is a blend of the domestic cow and the North American bison. The resulting prodigy lias the ferocious bump and shoulders of the bison, with the mildly benevolent face of the Herefordshire ox. It must not, how- ever, be supposed that the old country is behind-hand in such experiments, as witness the following : —

Billingsgate salesmen have lately been supplied with advance copies of the new" Codoyster fish. This epicurean triumph, which owes its existence to the research of several eminent specialists, is the result of a blend of the North Sea cod and the finest Whitstable native. The result is said to reproduce in a remarkable degree the succulent qualities of the original fish when eaten with oyster sauce, and caterers are sure to welcome the combination of these popular items in so handy a form.

Several fine examples of the Soho chicken have lately appeared upon the show benches at various important poultry contests. This ingenious creation, which has long been familiar to the patrons of our less expensive restaurants (hence the name), is said to possess qualities of endurance

SCIOIE — Interior of box at Fancy Dress Ball. Host of Party. "I SAY, BETTY, I WANT TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A

ClTT FRIEND OF MINE, M.R. JONES."

Jlmtcas (liospitably). "How D'YOU DO? OH, YOU'RE AWFULLY GOOD! "

Host (sotto I-OCC). "TAKE CARE ! HE 's NOT MADE UP AT ALL."

superior to anything previously on the mai'ket. Its muscular development is phenomenal, while the entire elimination of the liver, and the substitution of four extra drum-sticks for the ordinary wings and thighs, are noteworthy characteristics.

Success in another branch of the same endeavour is shown in the latest report of the Society for the Prolonga- tion of Dachshunds. According to this the worm-ideal seems at last to be in sight, careful inter-breeding having now produced a variety called the Processional, selected specimens of which take from one to two minutes in passing any given spot. The almost entire disappearance of legs is another attractive feature.

Meanwhile Major-Gen. Threebottle writes from Oporto Lodge, Baling, strongly protesting against any further complication of the fauna of these islands, and pointing out that the simple snakes and cats of our youth were already sufficiently formidable to a nervous invalid like him- self without the addition of such objectionable novelties.

" Without warning, while the car was travelling at about fifteen miles per hour, the tyro of the front wheel burst." — Scotsman.

Our tyres are much better trained, and each of the four gives a distinctive cough before bursting.

"WAREHOUSEMAN (jun.), clothing dopt., large corporation."

Advt. in " Glasgow Jlerald."

Tie should show off the new line in check waistcoats to the best advantage.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 14, 1914.

THE SECRET OUT.

AN INTERVIEW.

HE had a coarse confident face, a red nose, a Cockney accent anil a raucous voice. He was dressed as a sluttish woman.

Directly I saw him I was conscious of a feeling of repulsion, which I fear my expression must have indicated, for lie looked surprised.

"Why aren't you laughing?" ho asked.

" Why should I laugh ? " I asked in return.

" Because you are looking at me," ho said. " 1 am accustomed to laughter the instant 1 appear."

"Why?"

"Because I am a funny man," he said.

"How?"

" 1 look funny," he said ; " 1 say funny things; 1 draw a good salary for it. If I wasn't funny I shouldn't draw a good salary, should I ? "

" You do draw it," I said guardedly. " Be funny now."

"'Wait till I catch you bending,'" he said with a violent grimace. " ' What ho ! 'Ave a drop of gin, ole dear ? ' '

" He funny now," I repeated.

He looked bewildered. " I was being funny," he said. " I bring the house down with that, as a rule."

" Where ? "

" In panto," he said.

"Oh!" I replied. "So you're the funny man of a pantomime, are you? "

" Yes," he said.

"Which one?"

" All of them," he said.

" Good," I replied. " I have long wanted a talk with you. There are things I want to ask you. Why, for instance, do you always pretend to be a grimy slum woman ? "

" It seems to be expected," he said.

" Who expects it ? The children ? "

- What children?"

"The children who go to panto- mimes," I said.

"Oh, those! Well, they laugh," he replied evasively.

" They like to see you quarrelling with your husband and getting drunk? "

"They laugh," he said.

" They like to hear you, as an Ugly Sister in Cinderella, singing ' Father 's on the boo/o again ; mother 's oil her chump ' ? "

"They laugh," he said.

" They like to see you as the wife of Ali Baba, finding pawntickets in your husband's pockets and charging him with spending his money on flappers?"

"They laugh," he said.

" They like to see you, as The Widow Twankay, visit a race meeting and get

welshed and have your clothes torn oft' ? "

" They laugh," he said.

" They like to see you, as Diuk Whit- tington's mother, tolling the cat that, if In- must eat onions, at any rate he can refrain from kissing her? "

"They laugh," he said.

" They like to see you, as the dame in Goody Two Shoes, open a night club on the strict understanding that it is only for clergymen's daughters in need of recreation? "

"They laugh," ho said again.

" But they don't know what you mean ? "

" No. But I 'm funny. That 's what you don't seem to understand. 1 'in so funny that everything I say and do makes them laugh. It doesn't, in fact, matter irliat I say."

" Ah ! " I replied, " I have you there! In that case why don't you say a few simpler and sweeter things ? "

He seemed perplexed.

" Things," I explained, " that don't want quite so much knowledge of the seamy side of life ? "

"Go on!" he said derisively. "I haven't got time to mug that up. I 've got my living- to get. You don't sup- pose I invent my jokes, do you ? I collect them. I 'm on the Halls the rest of the year, and I bear them there. There hasn't been a new joke in a pantomime these twenty years. But what you don't seem to get into your head, mister, is the fact that I make them laugh. Laugh. I 'm a scream, I tell you."

" And laughter is all you want ? " I asked.

" I must either make people laugh or get ' the bird.' "

" But hasn't it ever occurred to you," I said, " that children in a theatre at Christmas time are entitled to have a little fun that is not wholly connected with sordid domestic affairs and pot- house commonness ? "

"Never," he said, and I believed him.

" Haven't you children of your own? "

" Several."

" And is that how you amuse them at home? "

"Of course not. They 're too young."

" How old are they ? "

" From six to thirteen."

" But that 's the ago of the children who go to pantomimes," I suggested.

"Well, it's different in your own home," ho said. " Besides," ho added, " it isn't children I aim at in my jokes. There 's other things for them : the fairy ballets, the comic dog."

" And what is the audience you aim at?" I asked. "I suppose there is one definite figure you have in your mind's eye?"

" Yes," ho said, " there is one. The person in the audience that I always aim at is the silly servant-girl in the front row of the gallery. That 's why I so often say ' girls ' before 1 make a joke. You 'vo heard me, haven't you? "

" Haven't I ? " I groaned.

THE GAME LICENCE.

IT was yesterday afternoon, towards the close of the last beat of our annual cover shoot, that I perceived a fellow in a yellow waterproof popping up his head from time to time (at no little risk to his life) over a dyke some way behind the line of guns. As soon as the heaters came out he advanced and introduced himself as an Excise Officer, asking "if this would be a convenient moment to examine the game licences of the party."

It was not at all a convenient moment for Walter — who hadn't got one. My thoughts flew at once to Walter in this crisis, for I knew he was bound to be had. Walter never does have game licences, season tickets, ad- hesive labels, telegraph forms or things of that sort. And as he had only returned from Canada two days before and this was the first time that he had been out, and further as he immediately disappeared and hid behind the hedge, I knew that my worst suspicions must be confirmed. While the Excise Officer was taking down the names and ad- dresses of the rest of the party I went after Walter. He was sitting in the ditch with his head in his hands.

"If this had happened a few years ago, old chap," he said, " when 1 was a younger man, I should have run for it. But to-day I believe that feller would overhaul me within half-a-mile. My wind's rotten. Do you think he'll find us here?"

"Yes," said I, "he is coming this way."

Walter got up. " There must be some way out of it," he said thought- fully, " if one could only think of it." Then he boldly confronted his accuser.

" Since you put it to mo," he said, "no, I have no game licence. But fortunately in my case it is not ne- cessary. I am exempt."

The Officer stared at him a moment.

" Certainly it is necessary," he said.

" Kindly show me the form of this licence," said Walter in the most lordly, off-hand, de-haut-cn-bas tone of voice, and the Officer handed him one belong- ing to the Major, which he bad been scrutinizing. "This, I perceive," said Walter, when he had read it carefully, " is a licence or certificate to kill game. It doesn't apply to me."

" Why not ? "

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARlVAKr.

" Because I haven't killed any game."

" Hut you liavo your gun in your hand at this moment."

"That is so. This is ray gun. But where, I ask you, is my dead game? The truth is, my dear fellow," he went on, dropping his voice to a more con- lidential level, " though it 's pretty humiliating to have to admit it and all that, especially before the beaters — the I ruth is that I haven't hit a blamed i hing to-day, liotten, isn't it ? "

Walter isn't much of a shot and there weren't many birds anyway, and lie hadn't been very lucky in his stands — and when one came to think it over one couldn't just exactly remember any- thing at all having fallen to his gun.

" I call all these fellows to witness," said Walter most impressively, " that I have killed no game. If it pleases me to discharge my gun, at short inter- vals, for the sake of the bang —

" You require a gun licence," said the Officer.

" That is not the point. I may or may not have a gun licence, but our present controversy relates to a certifi- cate to kill game. Do not let us confuse the issue."

It now appeared, however, that the Officer had been waiting behind the dyke rather longer than wo knew. " I myself," he said firmly, "saw you bring down a cock pheasant at the beginning of the last beat."

Walter consulted the paper in his hand. " I observe," he said, " that this licence (or certificate) relates to killing game. There is nothing said of bring- ing it down. I may, as you say, have induced a cock pheasant to descend. I certainly didn't kill him. As a matter of fact he was lightly touched on the wing, and he ran like a hare."

"He's in that patch of bracken there," said the Officer. " If you will send a keeper and a dog with me —

" No, I can't do that," said Walter, "unless you can show me a written authority empowering you, in the KING'S name, to borrow keepers and dogs."

It was then that the fun began. The Officer went off like a shot up the hillside, started the old cock, chased him up the ditch and through the hedge, and finally, to everyone's sur- prise and delight, collared him in a corner of the dyke. There were loud cheers from the enthusiastic crowd, but they were cut short by a sharp warning from Walter.

" Be careful how you handle that bird, Sir!" he cried. "If anything happens to him I shall hold you re- sponsible. I have no reason to believe that you hold a licence (or certificate) to kill game. If he suffers a mortal jnjury I shall report you."

THE FUTURE OF BRITISH BOXING.

Itouijh (to policeman who lias knoi-kfd him down). "WELL, IT'S \YORF IT. To MI:

BL,ONGS THK CHKDIT OF 'AVIN1 DISCOVERED A BLOOMIN1 WlIM'U 'Ol'E."

The Officer began to look rather bewildered and the old cock flapped his wings.

" I '11 thank you for that bird," said Walter firmly, and he took it and tucked it comfortably under his arm.

" What are you going to do with it? " asked the Officer.

"I am going to nurse it back to health and strength," said Walter. "It only requires a little close attention. I shall be happy if you will call in about a week's time to enquire. Good afternoon. I am very pleased to have met you." And Walter held out his hand.

Well, that is where the matter rests. If Walter can keep the bird alive the case against him falls to the ground. If not, I suppose it means a three- pound licence and a ten-pound fine. Ho took him straight back to the

Home Farm and secured for him dry and airy quarters in the poultry run, and did not leave him till he had seen to his comfort in every way and given minute directions as to his treat- ment. . . .

I am afraid the old cock passed a rather restless night, but ho was able to take part of a warm mash, with two drops of laudanum in it, at an early hour this morning. At this moment I hear Walter getting out his motor- bicycle. I fancy he is going for the vet.

Says Mr. CMCMKNT SHORTER : —

"There is a journal in London which has the impertinence to call itself The Nation, but ... it docs not represent the merest fraction of our countrymen."

Mr. SHORTEU'S own paper is called, more modestly, Tlic Kplii'i'*'.

30

PUNCH, Oil THE LONDON • GHAR1VA1U.

[JANUARY 14, 1914.

GETTING USED TO THE "SMILING EXPRESSION."

OUR SUGGESTION FOB A SYSTEM OF ADVANCED PHYSICAL TRAINING FOB PRUSSIAN OFFICERS BEFORE TAKING UP COMMANDS IN

THE ALSATIAN DISTRICT, WHERE TUB POPULACE is SAID TO BE ADDICTED TO HUMOUR.

OLD FRIENDS.

I WAS in the train because I had to go to Birmingham ; I was in the dining car because 1 had to dine. With all respect to the Company I cannot pre- tend that I regarded myself as doing anything remarkable or distinguished. The little man opposite me, however, felt differently. I have since been told that they of Birmingham are very proud of their non-stop train service by both routes.

: "This, Sir," said the stranger, as I lowered my paper to help myself to a proffered roll — " this is one of the Two- Hour trains."

" You don't say," said I politely but not encouragingly.

"Two hours," lie repeated impres- sively.

" Indeed ? Two whole hours and not a moment less?" and I returned to my paper pending the soup's arrival. ; "Is it not wonderful," he resumed when I was at his mercy again, " to be travelling at sixty miles an hour and eating soup at the same time ? "

" Some people eafc soup," said I, " and some drink it. For myself, I give it a miss," and I returned to the news.

With the fish : " I came up by the breakfast train this morning," said he, " and I now return by the dining train." Ho meant by this to give credit to the Company rather than to himself, but even so it seemed to fall short of the complete ideal. There was something wanting. It was luncheon, of course.

"They run luncheon cars too," said ho.

" Then there seems to be no reason why you should ever leave the train at all," I remarked, seeking refuge again in my paper. In spite, however, of my coldness, he continued to assail me with similar facts every time I emerged. Finally he took a sheet of slightly soiled paper and pencilled on it a schedule of our movements. It ran : —

Mileage.

17* . 4GJ . 82J . 94J . 113 .

Euston .

Willesden

Watford.

Bletchley

Rugby .

Coventry

Birmingham

Timr.

6.55 r [7.4] [7.18] [7.50] [8.24] [8.36J

8.55

" To give this the very careful con- sideration it deserves," said I, "I must be left absolutely to myself."

Later on, feeling that I had perhaps been rude, I offered the man a cigar by way of compensation. He accepted it as a mark of esteem and burst forth into more conversation. By now a little fed up with trains himself he suggested, for the sake of something new to say, that ho had met me before somewhere. At first I had some idea of asking for my cigar to be returned, but instead I gave in to his persistence. More, I joined in the conversation with an energy which surprised him.

" Now I come to think of it we hare seen each other before; but where?" I said.

He thought promiscuously, discon- nectedly and aloud. I could accept none of his suggestions because all referred to commercial rooms in pro- vincial hotels, places to which I have not the entree. " But I know now," I declared brightly ; " it was at a place just this side of London that I saw you first."

PUNCH, .OR THE LONDON CHARIVARIS-JANUARY ,14, : 1914.

THE SAND CAMPAIGN.

SCENE — Algeria, on Ike border of the desert.

THE ARAB AND THE CHANCELLOR WERE WALKING HAND-IN-HAND:

THE LATTER WEPT A LOT TO SKK SUCH QUANTITIES OF SAND;

"WHY ARE YOU HOLDING UP," HE SAID, THIS VERY FERTILE LAND?"

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

33

Harold (who has just been kitted by hit titter). "I SAY, I WONDER WHAT SHE'S UP TO?"

J''rientl. " SIGN OF AFFECTION, ISN'T IT?"

Harold. " -l;T/;r77(».v, YOU GOAT! SHE NEVER DOES THAT TILT. THE LAST DAY OF THE HOLS, AND THERE'S A WEEK TO GO YET."

" First i1 " he asked.

" Oh yes," said I. " I have seen you more than once. Surely you haven't forgotten that time at Watford ? "

He felt that I had the advantage of him. " When was that? " ho asked.

" Not very long after the first time ; and the next occasion I remember see- ing you was at a place called— -called— something beginning with a 15."

lie was quite unable to cope with the situation.

"And the next time," I continued, " I happened to lie passing through that town where the school is — you kno\v, Rugby. I distinctly recollect noticing then that you hadn't changed in the least since I last saw you."

Ho couldn't decide whether to be more flattered at my remembering or more annoyed at his own forgetting.

"Come, come," I exclaimed, "you surely cannot have forgotten that little chat we had at Coventry? "

" Coventry ? " ho asked. " But how long ago was that? "

" Quito recently," I asserted.

" But I haven't set foot in Coventry for years," said he.

" Nor have I, ever," said I.

I could understand his feelings thoroughly. It might be that I was a liar ; it might be that I was a lunatic. In either case he did not wish to con- verse further with me. Happily, I had two newspapers available.

As the speed of our train, in which of old he had taken such a pride, began to slacken : " And I shouldn't be sur- prised," I said from behind my paper, " if you and I saw each other again quite soon. The world is a small place and these things soon develop into a habit."

He made no answer from behind his paper.

" If you ask me when and whore " (as in fact he didn't), " I should say it is just as likely as not to happen at Birming- ham at about 8.55 I'.M.," 1 estimated, relying upon his own schedule.

"The play was preceded by ' The £12 Hook,' another Barrio comedy of more recent date." Hi/ditei/ Miirniiiij Herald.

Wo should prefer to call it " The £12 Eye."

'•LABOUR IN SOUTH AFRICA. BLACK OUTLOOK."

Mtiniing Post.

Let us hear both sides. What is the White Outlook ?

' • Tho grievance of the men is in regard to the rate of pay. They are paid 6Jd. per hair.''

<llnKi/ou> News.

And then when they are old and bald thev have to starve.

'•TANGO RAPIDLY DYING. DANCE UPHELD BY MB. MAX PEMBEIITON."

Daily Chronicle.

This is the sort of thing that the Revue King has to put up with. Truly the lot of royalty is not an enviable one.

From an advertisement of Tango matinees in The Lyceum: —

" KKHKRVKD TAUTENILS (4 first rows) 10/ TAUTENII.S (tea included) 7/C

TAVTENILS (tea not included) C| "

Gourmet (planking down his scven-and- si.r). " Tea and tautenils, please."

Seen on a Liverpool hoarding : — "Quo Vadis: Whither goest thou in eight

reels ? ' '

Aiisicfr. "Anywhere in reason, but not

home."

34

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

(JANUARY 14, 1914.

IN THE GARDEN OF ALLAH.

WEARY of the struggle and the squalors

Which beset the politician's life — • Work that for a modicum of dollars

Brings a whole infinity of strife — Three of England's most illustrious cronies

Started on a winter holiday, With no thought of MURRAY or Marconis —

GEORGE and HENRY and the great TAY PAY.

Never since J^NEAS and his raiders

1 Stayed with DIDO in the days of yore

Did such irresistible invaders

Land upon the Carthaginian shore. GEORGE, of course, the largest crowds attended,

But I 'in told the kind Algerians say That ^ENKAS wasn't half so splendid

Or so pious as the good TAY PAY.

Noble sheikhs and black and bearded Bashas

Bowed, ivheno'er they met them, to the ground ; Festas and fantasias and tamashas

Followed in a never-ending round. GEORGE no more on his detractors brooded ;

HENRY simply sang the livelong day ; While unmixed benevolence exuded

From the loving heart of kind TAY PAY.

Side by side they read the works of HICHENS;

Hand in hand they sampled the bazaars ; Ate the sweetmeats cooked in native kitchens ;

Flew about in sumptuous motor-cars ; Golfed where once great HANNIBAL was scheming ;

Joked where luckless DIDO once held sway ; For the finest jokes were always streaming

From the lips of comical TAY PAY.

Other days they spent in caracoling,

Mounted each upon a mettled barb. Or along the streets serenely strolling

Clad in semi-oriental garb ; HENRY with a cummerbund suburban ;

GEORGE disguised to look like ENVER BEY; While a kilt surmounted by a turban

Veiled the massive contours of TAY PAY.

Daily they partook of ripe and juicy

Fruit, and Mocha coffee and kibobs ; Daily they conversed with EL SENOUSSI

And a lot of other native nobs ; HENHY practised Algerine fandangos ;

GEORGE upon the tom-tom learned to play; And a dervish taught ten Arab tangos

To the light fantastical TAY PAY.

Whither will they wander next, I wonder?

Not, I hope and pray, within the reach Of the tribes who live on loot and plunder,

Fanatics who practise what they preach. Fancy if these horrible disturbers,

Swooping on our countrymen astray, Touaregs and Bedouins and Berbers,

Carried off the succulent TAY PAY !

Hardly had this agonizing presage

Taken shape within my tortured brain,

When good REUTER flashed tho welcome message, "Chancellor Returns," across the main.

Neptune, be thy waters calm, not choppy, As they speed them on their homeward way,

GEORGE and HENRY and, bowed down with "copy," Our unique arch-eulogist, TAY PAY.

THE MARRIED MAN'S ADVANTAGE.

PERSONALLY I think too much respect is paid to age. There is nothing clever in being old — nothing at all. On the other hand, youth has a charm of its own. Besides, twenty-two is not young ; you wouldn't think me so if you really knew me. The doubt arises, I suppose, from a certain innate light-heartedness. It is really rather pathetic.

Daphne chooses to see humour in the situation, which is very absurd of her, and, as I point out, merely reflects on herself. Surely she doesn't wish to admit that it is foolish to love her.

And that, to make a clean breast of it, is exactly what I do, and do madly.

I follow her about, reverently watching her every move- ment, hanging on her every word — no light task. And my reward'? A scant unceremonious " Hallo !" when we meet ; a scanter " Night " or " Morning," according to the circumstances, when we part. A brave smile from me and she is gone, an unwitting spectator of a real tragedy.

Up to a few days ago I was content to bear witli my lot, but last week I rebelled. It was at a dance, afte'r supper. Daphne had certainly shown a sort of affection for me, motherly rather than otherwise, I think; nevertheless an affection. But then, and not for the first time, I had seen her flirting with another.

I decided to lose my temper. I went into the smoke-room and deliberated very close to the fire. In five minutes I left the room heated.

I found Daphne at once.

" Our dance," I said. " We will sit out."

My manner must have been rather terrifying. At any rate we sat out.

"Daphne," I began, "I am in a mood that brooks no trifling. For weeks I have loved you. You spurn me."

" Oh, Billy, do be sensible," Daphne murmured.

I moderated my tone. " Well, look here," I said, " why are you so cold to mo and yet flirt with my cousin ? I saw you putting his tie straight and patting his arm just now; and you won't let me even hold your hand. It 's pretty hard, Daphne."

She laughed. " My dear Billy "

" Many thanks for yours of yesterday. I am having a very good time and it is really kind of me to write."

" If you won't be sensible —

" 1 am. It 's just because I 'm so serious that I jest. All the wittiest men are broken-hearted. Go on."

" Well, my dear Billy, you mustn't be foolish. I 'm very fond of you, but you 're so ridiculously young."

"You haven't a revolver about you ? " I enquired.

Daphne sighed. " Billy, you 're quite hopeless. Do let me try to explain. You see, I can't — well — flirt with you, because I don't really flirt, of course, and besides your cousin's different — he's married."

I got up quickly. "Good-bye," I said. " You must excuse my leaving you."

Daphne looked surprised. " Where are you going? " she enquired.

"To get married." I walked away with my head ia the air.

'••'• •'.'• ••:•• •:- ?,-. •:•. •.::

A week later I wrote Daphne a letter. It ran as follows : — " MY DEAB DAPHNE, — I am going to get married. Tina

JAXI-AKY 14, 1914.]

PUNCJI, Oil TI1K LONDON CHARIVARI.

IN VIKW OF THE EXAGGERATED AND MISLEADING REPORTS OF WHAT OCCURS AT THE CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN MB. AgQUITH AND

MR. BONAR LAW ON THE ULSTER QUESTION WE VENTURE TO THINK THAT A LITTLE MAKE-UP AND CAREFUL CHOICE OF RENDEZVOUS WOULD ENABLE THE LEADERS TO HAVE MANY A L'JNU CHAT OX THE SUBJECT WITHOUT ANYONE BZIS'Li AWAEE OF THEIR HAVING MET.

is nineteen, the same as you, and is in tlie chorus of a musical comedy. She has real jet black hair, so I am quite lucky. I hope you are fonder of me already.

Yours devotedly, BILLY."

In reply, and by return of post, I received an invitation to tea at Daphne's. Daphne, looking beautiful, was await- ing me.

" How d'you do? " I said gravely.

" Billy," Daphne began, " will you be really serious with me?"

I immediately assumed a business manner and coughed.

" Well ?" I said.

The word was sharp and incisive, a regular lawyer's question.

" Of course, you "re joking about this chorus girl '.' "

"Joking! Daphne, you know I 'd do anything for you."

Daphne smiled. " But, Billy, 1 shan't like you any better if you marry her."

I bit a piece of cake coldly. " I don't understand you, Daphne," I said. "When i ask you to show me a little affection, only just what you show others, you tell me I 'm young and married men are different. I arrange to be different at considerable personal sacrifice, and you tell me you won't like me any better." I swallowed convulsively.

" But, Billy — dear — you 're not actually engaged ? "

" I 'm not so sure," I replied. " These girls are wonder- fully sharp ; and then, of course, I 'm so young." (A good touch.)

There was a silence.

"I shall hate you if you marry a chorus girl," said Daphne.

" Then why did you tell me married men were different?"

" Because most of them are." Daphne smiled slowly. '; 1 think I might like you better if you were married to some really nice girl."

I laughed bitterly. " To you, for instance ? "

" Yes, to me," said Daphne very sweetly.

36

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[.JANUARY 14, 1!)M.

TO OBEY OR NOT TO OBEY.

8//i December, 1913. MR. and Mrs. Melbrook request the pleasure of Mr. Hugh Melbrook's com- pany at the marriage of llieir daughter Muriel Irene with Mr. Adolphus Smith, at St. Peter's, Hashton, on Wednesday, December 31st, 1913, at 1.30 o'clock, and afterwards at Westlamls, Hashton. E. 8.V. P.

3th December, 1913. Mr. Hugh Melbrook tlianks Mr. and Mis. Melbrook for the opportunity of being present at the wedding of their daughter Muriel Irene, but much regrets that, owing to great pressure of work, he cannot be there. He desires that Mr. and Mrs. Melbrook should not feel constrained to alter their present

P.S. — I 've just heard that Mr. Pars- ley, who is to marry us, is very strict about obedient weddings, and 1 pro-

woman I may marry hereafter, here 's a dead snip for you. Listen ! When you come to the words " to love, cherish

mised Geraldine I wouldn't " obey " if and to obey," you simply drop the

arrangements account.

on that

slu> didn't. Now it 's my turn. Tell me something to do.

SOth December, 1913.

MY (iOOD MURIEL, — That's a caviare dish ! Caviare dishes, I understood, were all the rage just now, and here am I slaving away to be in the fashion, and you calmly write back and say, " Thank you very much for the butt — My

good Muriel !

I really wanted to send you some- thing quite different, something equally novel but more seasonable ; no less, in fact, than a nose-muff or nose-wanner. It is a little idea of my own, the Mel- brook " Ehinotherm." Briefly, the

\

26</i December, 1913. MESSRS. HALL, MARJC & Co., Silversmiths. SIRS, — Kindly despatch at once to the address given below a seasonable wedding gift, costing no more than the amount of the enclosed postal order. I send my card for inclusion. Whatever change there may be please return it to me, and oblige

Yours faithfully, H. MKLISHOOK.

27</t December, 1913. H. MELBROOK, ESQ. DEAB SIR, — We are in receipt of your , mechanism consists of pieces of heated

SPREAD OF THE SERVANT-GIRL GRADUATE IDEA.

(Interior of a tuftr-kitchen.) Mistress. " WOULD YOU MIND LEAVING YOUII SOPHOCLES FOB A MOMENT

JlAHY, AND RUNNING TO THE POST?"

second "to" (nobody will miss it) and run the "d" of the "and" into the "obey," and lo ! wo have a Trench word, to wit, dauber, meaning to cuff, drub or belabour. What say you to that, my bonny bride? I think that deserves an extra largo slice of cake, to put under my pillo\v. And I say, Muriel, I do hope there won't bo any of those rotten cassowary seeds in it. If there are, for pity's sake rake them out and give them to someone who likes them. And I '11 have his share of the marzipan.

Your affectionate cousin, Hucn.

NEWSPAPER EXCERPT.

. . . During the service an amusing incident occurred. It was noticed that the bride, who is rumoured to have femi- nist leanings, betrayed some difficulty in pro- nouncing the vow of obedience. The Eev. Thos. Parsley consider- ately paused and helped her to repeat the words after him in a clear and audible manner. In an interview with our repre- sentative, Mr. Parsley smilingly explained that he was determined, in his parish at any rate, to discourage any possible evasion of the matri- monial vows. Ho con-

esteemed favour of yesterday's date and beg to advise you that we have this day forwarded to the address you gave a handsome cut-glass anchovy dish with a finely-chased silver lid and tray. We enclose the receipted bill for the dish, which stands in our list at exactly the amount remitted by you.

We are, dear Sir, Yours faithfully, HALL, MARK & Co.

29/7t December, 1913. MY DKAI: HUGH. — Thank you wry, very much for the sweet little butter-

dish. It's ripping. Do try to down, Hugh, there 's a good boy

get If

you can find time to choose me such a nice present — I know what you are, it must have taken you hours — surely

you could take the Say yes.

day off for once.

In tremendous haste, and thanking you again and again,

Your affectionate cousin,

MURIEL.

requiring

clearly

young

the incident.

charcoal, potato or what-not, encased in some non-conducting material, the whole being then unostentatiously affixed to the frigid end of the nose. Stupidly, I forgot to take a plaster cast of your nose. You '11 forgive me, won't you ?

And now about coming down on the happy day. I feel very hurt about it. You know perfectly well that I wanted you to be married on a Saturday, but you wouldn't. It isn't as though you get married every day, and I do think you might have considered me a little more. But, even if I did come, even if by working all night Monday and Tuesday I could scrape together a few hours of freedom, I know what it would be. I should never be allowed in the vestry afterwards, while all the fun was going on. And yet you have the effrontery to sit there and ask my help in evading your responsibilities as a married woman. Still, if you promise to breathe not a word of this to any | happening.

sidered that a great deal of post-nuptial unhappiness was attributable to the lamentable laxity of the clergy in joining young people in matrimony without

their future relations to be defined at the outset. The bride refused to make any

comment, but seemed highly amused at

'Hashton Weekly Hash."

"A gem ring lost last summer by Franz Schroder while travelling in a steamer on the Danube, near Prague, was found inside a carp caught at Mayt'iice by his nephew." Manchester Knniny

The fact that Mayenco is not on the Danube need not bother you. Only last week our uncle lost a white ele- phant while travelling in a barge on the Eegent's Park Canal, near Maida Vale, and it was found inside the hat- box of the Editor of The Manchester Evening News by FRANK SCHRODER. Bless you, these things are always

JANUARY 14, 191 1.]

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CIIAIUVAUI.

37

Irate Cottager. "Hi! YOU 'BE BBEAKIN' MY 'KDCIE!"

Mild Sportsman. "On, NO; YOUB HEDGE is BREAKING MY FALL, ASD IF YOU WILL KINDLY PUSH ME BACK AGAIN I BHALE. TR?

TO B'STOIK MY HOBSE."

THE COWARD.

IT is impossible to describe to you exactly how Herbert looked. But shame, defiance and unconcern were the principal ingredients in his ex- pression as he stood on the kerb and stared across the road.

He started guiltily as I approached.

" Hallo, Herbert ! " I began with my customary bonhomie.

" Hallo ! " he said dismally.

" What arc you doing here ? " I asked sternly.

"Nothing," said Herbert. "Have you ever noticed what a fine building that post-office is?"

"No," I said; "neither have you. Herbert, you are concealing something from mo. What have I done to deserve it ? Have I not enjoyed your confi- dence these many years, and have you ever known me betray it ? Is it mar- riage that has changed you thus ? Is it "

" Shut up," said Herbert. " I'll tell you, if you stop talking."

I stopped talking.

" It 's this way. My wife and I have

had a little discussion. And I stated my belief that there was nothing in an ordinary way that a woman could do that a man couldn't. Whereupon she defied me to go out and — er — buy a bloater. As you see, I have gone out, and — er —

"Yes," I said, "you have gone out. Splendid of you ! And all that remains to be done is to buy a bloater. Why not? Yonder, if I mistake not, is the shop of a bloaterer."

" But a bloater! " said Herbert. " It isnt fair. If she 'd said some salmon, or a lobster, or even a pound of sausages ; or if she 'd allowed me to 'phone for it. It 's not as if I 'd ever had any practice. It 's not decent to start a beginner on a hand-bought bloater."

" Tush ! " I said. " This is not manly. Remember, our sex is at stake. Come ! "

I took him by the arm. He advanced under protest.

Four paces from the shop he stopped abruptly and laughed — a horrible laugh.

"Do you know," he said, "I do believe I 've come out without a cent on me."

"/don't believe it for a moment," I

said, " but as it happens I can lend you pounds and pounds — almost enough for two bloaters."

Herbert reluctantly found some money ! in one of the seven pockets he had not felt in. Then we advanced once more.

This time there was no going back. Eight into the body of the fishmonger's we strode and stood firmly opposite the salesman.

" Noiv," I whispered tensely.

But Herbert hesitated, and even as he wobbled the salesman began his suggestions.

" Yes, Sir ? Lobsters or prawns, Sir ? Some very good salmon this morning — very fine fish indeed, Sir."

" J'!r, as a matter of fact," said Her- bert, " we just wanted to know if you would bo so kind as to direct us to the nearest post - office ? — the one just across the road, you know," he added nervously.

" Herbert," I said in his private ear, "be a man."

Herbert pulled himself together. " Would you," he said to the salesman, " would you please let me look at some b-b-blobsters ? "

38

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[JANUARY 14, 1914.

A BAD DREAM.

n/. Great news! The plan suggested by the Anglo- German Alliance Coinmitteo is at last to bo carried out.

is to bo an exchange of garrisons, that is to say, certain English towns are to bo garrisoned by German regiments, while certain German towns are to have English garrisons. Our own town, though a small one, is to have the dis- tinguished honour of being the first to give this mark of friendship to the world. All the arrangements have been made, and to-morrow the 901st Prussian regiment of infantry is to march in. It will he a great day for Dartlebury, and we shall all do our best, though the public notice has been short, to give our gallant visitors a warm and truly British reception.

Monday. — Our German friends have arrived. At 11 o'clock tins morning it was announced that they were approaching, headed by their band. The Mayor, Alderman Farthingale, and the whole Corporation, including the three Labour members recently elected, immediately proceeded to the old city wall to meet them. They were accompanied by the municipal band in full uniform, playing " Die Wacht am Hhcin," which they had been assiduously practising. Unfortunately this led to what might have been a some- what painful contretemps. On meeting the municipal band the Prussian commander, Colonel von Brausebrum, halted his soldiers and in a loud voice declared that our men were playing out of tune. Perhaps this was true, but tiie offence was involuntary and in any case it was hardly serious enough to call for the arrest of the whole band. Arrested, however, they were, and it was a melancholy sight to see them marched off by a corporal's guard. Mr. Zundnadel, the chief of the band, is himself of German origin, and his feelings can be better imagined than de- scribed. The Mayor saved the situation by making an extremely cordial speech, in which he spoke of the English and the Germans. as ancient brothers-in-arms. The Colonel in his reply said his mission was a glorious one, and every- thing would depend on the way we conducted ourselves. What can he have meant? The march was then resumed, but another halt was made in the High Street to remove the French flag which Mucklow, the linen-draper, had very tactlessly stuck up over his shop. He too was arrested, with wife and family, and was lodged in jail. Luckily no further incident disturbed the harmony of the proceedings.

Tuesday. — This morning Lieutenant von Schornstein, while walking in Brewer's Alley, trod on a piece of banana- sikin and fell heavily on the pavement. As he rose he observed that two small boys were, so he alleged, laughing at him. lie immediately ran after the two urchins, and was proceeding to put them to the sword when the Brewery men interfered and disarmed him. He pleaded that bis uniform had been insulted and that it was necessary for him to punish them. "Icli muss sic dunk den Lcib rennen " were his words. The men, however, were not inclined to admit the force of this plea, especially as they understood no German, and they sent him back to barracks in a taxi- cab. The Mayor at once wired his apologies to the Colonel, and it is hoped that nothing further will be heard of the incident. I ought to add that the boys deny that they laughed, but the lieutenant is certain that they wore a smiling expression.

The "Friendship Banquet" was held this evening in the Town Hall, with the Mayor in the chair. No very great enthusiasm was shown, and when the Mayor, in proposing the health of our visitors, alluded to the friendly rivalry of the two nations in commerce and the arts of peace, the Colonel pulled him back into his seat and begged him not to proceed. "Maul halteii," hj said. The three Labour

members of the Council were afterwards arrested for not having joined with sufficient heartiness in the singing of " Dcutschland -ilbcr Alles."

Wednesday. — A state of siege has been declared in Dartle- bury, and we are all living under martial law. Lord Gruffen was arrested for having knocked up against a soldier. Tin; magistrates, on leaving the police-court, were handcuffed and removed to barracks. A crisis is evidently approaching.

Thursday. — An insurrection started this morning. A huge crowd attacked the barracks and overpowered all resistance. Blood flowed like water, but in an hour all was over. There is a strong feeling that the experiment of the Alliance Committee wTas a rash one, though no doubt it was well meant. We live and learn.

LOOP! LOOP!!

(-4 story of aerial prowess in the provinces.) THEY said, " He goes a-tumbling through the hollow

And trackless empyrean like a clown, Head pointed to the earth where weaklings wallow,

Feet up toward the stars ; not such renown Even our lord himself, the bright Apollo, Gets in his gilded car. For one bob down

You shall behold the thing." "Eight-o," I said, Clapping the old brown bay leaves on my head.

So to the hangars. Time, about eleven,

The air full chill, the ground a mess of muck, And long time gassed 1 on the wintry heaven

And thought of many a deed of Saxon pluck ; How DKAKIC, for instance, good old DUAKK of Devon, Played bowls at Plymouth Hoe. Twelve-thirty struck. No one had vaulted through the air's abyss ; DRAKE would have plunged tail up an hour ere this.

Brief interval for lunch, and then a drizzle

Fell on the dreary field. Like some dead moth The thing remained. Chagrin commenced to sizzle,

And certain people cried, " A thillingth loth." Others, " Hey, Mister Airman, it 's a sw-izzle ! " Then a stern man came out, and with a cloth Lightly, as one well used to such a feat, Swaddled the brute's propeller and its seat.

The skies grew darkling, and there went a rumour,

" The thing is off ; he will not fly to-day ; " And forth we wandered, some in rare ill-humour,

But not, oh, not the bard. Yet this I say — • There are two kinds of courage : one 's a boomer Avid of gold and glory ; this is A,

Crowned with a palm, and in her hands 1 see Sheaves of press cuttings. There is also B.

Not venturesome, this last, to brave the billows,

To beard the panther in his hidden lair, To probe the epiderms of armadillos,

Nor execute wild cart-wheels in the air : But who shall say how much Britannia still owes To B, the kind of courage that can bear

Dauntless to wait, whate'er the skies portend, (Having paid entrance) to the bitter end ?

The heavenly hero in his suit of leather

Soars through Olympus with the world beneath Sometimes, and sometimes, owing to the weather,

Scratches his fixtures in the tempest's teeth. Shall the high gods, who gaze on both together, Count him the nobler, or confer their wreath On the brave bull-dog bard, who risks his thews Standing about all day in thin-soled shoes?

EVOE.

JANUARY 14, 1914.]

PUNCH, Oil TIIR LONDON C.IIAUI VA 1! I.

39

=-.

• Ih I;K 's ONK I 'M srr.i: YOU 'I.T. I.IKK, TuEvun."

1 WHAT is IT?"

• IN WHAT LANGUAGE? '

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(P>y Mr. Punch's Stajf of Lt'arm'il ('/,'rks.) JUST as one may say of certain novelists that they write at the top of their voices, so, I think, ono might describe Miss VIOLA MF.YXKLI, as writing in a whisper. This certainly is the eflect that Modern Lovers (SECKER) pro- duced upon me. The gentle method of it invested the story — which of itself is a very slight thing — with an odd significance almost impossible to communicate in criticism ; but the reading of a few pages will show you what I mean. The title is apt enough, for the tale is about nothing but love, as it affects a group of five young people, three men and two girls. Of the girls, who are sisters, 7-/'///<; RutJierglen is the more important and detailed figure. -/•///;>, in the time before the story opens, bad an affair with Oliver Bliijh; then, summoned North to live with her futile and uncom- prehending parents, she fell (as did her sister Milly and most of the local spinsters) under the fascination of one Olive Maxwell, who was an author and had appealing eyes and obviously a way with him. Then Oliver turned up again, and poor Effie didn't know which of them she wanted. I speak lightly, but, if you think all this made for comedy, your conception of Miss MHYXELL'S methods is very much at fault. Love to her is very much what it was to Patience in the opera — by no means a wholly enviable boon. I can hardly praise too much the exquisite refine- ment and restraint of her treatment of commonplace things. But one small point baffled me: Oliver appears to have been a professional diver and bath-keeper — wo are told, indeed, that he had occupied that position at Rugby (a statement that I have private and personal reasons fin- discrediting) — yet we find him staying as a welcome and honoured guest in the bouse of the nutherglens, whom I

take to 1)0 more or less "county." Surely this, though of no real importance, is at least remarkable ?

" What," I asked myself, " is just the matter with this apparently quite nice book? " (It was Joan's Green Year, and written by B. L. DOON and published by MACMILLAN.) It is the kind of book that grows out of a romantic disposition and an assiduously stuffed commonplace book. It consists of letters from Joan, a paying guest in the Manor House Farm at Pelton, to her brother Keith, a soldier in India, tell- ing him all about her year of holiday and "soul discipline" in the country, the village gossip, her proposals and her one acceptance, and giving a sort of farmer's calendar of the seasons as interpreted by the guileless amateur. Joan has what is known as a nice mind. But to tell truth she has chosen a difficult and dangerous if alluring 'art form. Of course lette'rs enable you to evade some of the difficulties of the novelist's task, to be discursive, allusive and incomplete. But you can't be let off anything of the precision and subtlety of your characterisation. On the contrary. And Joan makes everyone in Pelton (except the rustics, whose authenticity I gravely suspect) talk as Joan writes. They have nearly all seen her commonplace book, I judge. Then, again, you must not have (like Joan) a large list of acquaintances, or you breed confusion and dissipate interest accordingly. Joan is very young in many ways. She is extravagant in the matter of the equipment of her heroes. Bob Ingleby, the fanner (a gentleman, because ho had been at Winchester), is a " great comely giant," yet wins events one and three of the Hunt Steeplechase, though thrown badly in number two. I have a suspicion that this work is really Joan's tee shot, and that after a notable recovery, which on the best of her present form I can safely prophesy, she will reach her green year next time.

40

PUKCII, Oil THE LOKEON CHAE1VAKI.

[JANUARY 14, 1914.

Mrs. T. P. O'CoNKOH has written a fascinating book. My Beloved South she calls it, and PUTNAMS publish it. There is not a lifeless page in the 427 that make up a bountiful feast. Every one contains vivid reproductions of incidents in social life in the South " befo' de \va' " and after. At the outset we make the acquaintance of a typical Southron, Mrs. O'CONNOR'S grandfather, Governor of Florida when it was still a Territory, with native Indians fighting fiercely for their land and homes. Mrs. O'CoNNou was, of course, not to the fore in those early days. But so steeped is she in lore of the South, much of it gained from the lips of nurses and out-door servants, so keen is her sympathy, so quick and true her instinct that she is able to revivify the old scenes and reproduce the atmosphere of tha time. The darkey nurse of earliest childhood lives again, sometimes bringing with her plantation songs like "Voodoo-Bogey- Boo," quaintly musical. Many passages of the grandfather's conversations are preserved, in which we may detect the voice of the gifted granddaughter. But theinfluenceof heredity is strong, more espe- cially " down South." Also there are many charming stories re- dolent of the South. I was about to mention : the page on which will , be found the thrilling I history of a mule aptly \ named " Satan." On reflection I won't spoil the reader's pleasure in unexpectedly coming upon it somewhere about the middle of the book. Nobody — man or woman, girl or boy — who begins to read My Beloved South will skip a page. So the story cannot be over- looked.

CONSCIENTIOUS REFEREE ORDERING HASTY TO AN IMPERTINENT PLAYER.

In Lost Diaries (DUCKWOKTH) Mr. MAURICE BARING travels by an easy road to humour, and he does not pound it with too laborious feet. This is perhaps a fortunate thing, for a farcical reconstruction of history in the light of modern sentiment and circumstances might easily tire; a Comic History of England, for instance, is stift'er reading to-day than GARDNER or GREEN. Sometimes, however, Mr. BAKING seems to carry to extreme lengths his con- scientious avoidance of efforts to be funny ; and in the imaginary records of one or two of his subjects there is little more to laugh at than the unaided fancy of the student has long ago perceived. Tristram loved two heults, and JOHN MILTON was an exasperating husband; but these things I knew, and the author of Lost Diaries has made no more capital out of the situations than the eternal merriment which the bare statement of the facts inspires. But where Mr. BARING, pleasantly disdainful alike of con- sistency and taste, examines the pocket-book of the " Man in the Iron Mask," and finds him complaining of the noise and disturbance in dungeon after dungeon until he is removed at last to the lotus island of the Bastille; or records the blameless botanical pursuits of TIBERIUS in seclusion ; or the first consumption of the Colla di Gallo by COLUMBUS in the newly discovered West, he is, for all the simplicity

of his methods, amusing enough. Yet even so I ;un inclined to think that the first of his essays, which iv like an actual transcript from the jottings of a nineteenth- century private-school boy, is the diary which I most heartily congratulate Mr. BARING on having rediscovered, and which I should be least willing for him to lose again.

With the Land Question staring us in the face, Folk of the Furrow (SMITH ELDER) should attract the attention of those who wish thoroughly to understand what the agricultural labourer wants and why he wants it. Mr. CHRISTOPHER HOLDENBY is no amateur, for as Mr. STEPHEN REYNOLDS has lived with fishermen and shared their daily lives so he has lodged in labourers' cottages and hoed and dug with the best (and worst) of them. The result is a book that is stamped with the hall-mark of a great sincerity ; and three facts at least can be gathered from it by the very dullest of gleaners. First, and I think foremost,

that the decencies of life cannot be observed if children of very various ages are to be crowded into cottages too small to hold them ; secondly, that it is useless to expect morality from youths who have few or no amusements pro-