PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 146. APRIL 29, 1914. CHARIVARIA. CAPTAIN FORT, a French army airman from Chalons, flew over the Germanfrontier, last week, by mistake, and alighted in Lorraine, but flew backagain before the German police arrived. We think he should have waited. Itis just little discourtesies such as this that accentuate ill-feelingbetween nations. * * * Mr. H. W. THORNTON, the new American manager of the Great Eastern Railway, says that his ideal is to satisfy the public. This disposes of the absurdrumour that his appointment was made in the interests of the shareholders. * * * JACK JOHNSON, the pugilist, is about to become naturalized as a Frenchsubject. Frankly, America has brought this on herself. * * * It is possible, by the way, that the knowledge that America could not relyon JACK JOHNSON stiffened President HUERTA'S back. * * * In at least one of our colonies the War Minister is designated "Ministerfor Defence. " This would surely be a more than apt title for Mr. ASQUITH, who has been doing yeoman work of this kind on behalf of his peccantcolleagues. * * * Some idea of the confusion which reigned at the fight between BLAKE andBORRELL may be gathered from the following paragraph in _The LiverpoolDaily Post_:-- "Blake, who was the taller, at once led the £500 aside, and both men to deposit a further close quarters, and they indulged in in-fighting up to the close of the round. " It was certainly shrewd of BLAKE to act as he did in regard to the stakes, for, although he was the taller, it did not necessarily follow that hewould win. * * * Stafford House, which contains the London Museum, will in future be calledLancaster House. It was felt, we understand, that its former name gave noclue to its contents. * * * We find the following announcement of the greatest interest:-- "April 16th, to Mr. And Mrs. G. E. Turtle (née Nurse Lacey) a daughter. " It was a great performance to have been born a nurse, even if she turnedTurtle later on. * * * "In everything where her means and opportunities allow, " says Mr. ARTHURRACKHAM, "woman seeks persistently for beauty. " And now many husbands areflattering themselves that that is how they came to be married. * * * "Mothers who sleep nine hours on end, " says Dr. WESTCOTT, the coroner, "should not have babies, and, if they do, they should be put in cradles. "The only difficulty is that at present there is no cradle on the marketlarge enough to take a grown-up. * * * _The Times_ has published an indictment of the London plane-tree as adisseminator of disease. Nervous folk, however, may like to know that, ifthey stay indoors with their windows closed and with a towel fastenedacross the mouth and nose, they will run comparatively little risk fromthis source. * * * _The Express_ is offering prizes to its readers with a view to ascertainingwhich is the best-looking animal in the Zoo, and which is the ugliest. Itis, of course, no affair of ours, but we think it would be a graceful andhumane act on the part of our contemporary to give a consolation prize tothe poor beast adjudged to be the ugliest. * * * Meanwhile, in view of this competition, the wart-hog would be glad to hearof a really reliable cure for warts. * * * A thrush has built its nest and laid three eggs at the junction of twoscaffold poles where between fifty and sixty men are working on a newbuilding at Northampton. The kind-hearted labourers were, we understand, willing to work quietly and slowly in order not to disturb the youngmother, but were over-ridden by the foremen. * * * What is described as a "Racegoers' Luncheon Palace" is being erected nextto the Epsom Grand Stand. The new building will, we are informed, havefireproof floors and staircases. These will no doubt be duly tested by theMilitants. * * * It is rumoured that such is the success of _The Melting Pot_ that Mr. ZANGWILL has been approached by more than one manager with flatteringproposals. Mr. ZANGWILL, however, is not to be rushed, and it is extremelyunlikely that we shall have him turning out Melting Pot-Boilers. * * * The punishment does sometimes fit the crime. An individual who for somemonths past specialised in thefts of clocks was last week given time. * * * "A Blackburn platelayer, " it is stated, "who has just died at the age ofseventy, left £400, which he had accumulated out of his small earnings. Hewas a bachelor. " Married women consider this a marvellous achievement inview of the fact that the man had no wife to help him. * * * At last it looks as if something is going to be done for golfers, whoselanguage, it is rumoured, occasionally leaves so much to be desired. TheRector of Frinton has undertaken to consider a suggestion that a specialservice for golfers shall be held at nine o'clock on Sunday mornings. * * * * * [Illustration: THE OPENING OF THE SEASON. "NAH THEN, 'ERBERT, WE'RE IN 'YDE PARK. PULL UP YER SOCKS AN' LOOK SMART. "] * * * * * Another "Daily Mail" Record. "'How beautiful, ' said the Queen as she passed me. " We congratulate _The Daily Mail's_ Special Paris Correspondent (author ofthe above passage), on the tribute paid to him by Her Majesty. * * * * * The Rivals. Two posters in Torquay:-- "FLYING AT PAIGNTON BY MONSIEUR SALMET. " "FLYING VISIT OF MR. H. B. IRVING. " * * * * * "Fashion Gossip" in _The Cambridge Chronicle_:-- "Black rats, however, are most in favour and bid fair to retain their popularity. " It is no longer fashionable to see snakes. * * * * * "For supply of a body suitable for motor ambulance for Ipswich. "--_Contract Journal. _ Ipswich seems in a hurry. Surely it might wait for the accident to happennaturally. * * * * * GENERAL VILLA BREAKS INTO POETRY. [The following unpublished poem of General VILLA--not, of course, to be compared with the recently discovered compositions of KEATS--throws an interesting light on the attitude of that incomparable brigand towards the academic diplomatist of the White House. This correspondence, rendered into English, is now made public without prejudice to any change of policy that may occur during its passage through the press. ] WILSON (or WOODROW, if I may), I blush to own that ere to-day I have described you as a "gringo"; For you are now my loved ally; We see together, eye to eye; The same usurper we defy. Each in his local lingo. Friends I have had in your fair land, Nice plutocrats who lent a hand (In view of possible concessions), But still I lacked official aid, And lived, with that embargo laid Upon the gunning border-trade, A prey to rude depressions. But, when you let the barrier drop, And all the frontier opened shop To deal in warlike apparatus, Much heartened by your friendly leave To storm and ravage, slay and reave, I felt my fighting bosom heave As with a fresh afflatus. Now closer still we join our stars; At Vera Cruz your valiant tars Have lately forced a bloody landing; No more you hold aloof to see The dirty work all done by me, You show by active sympathy A cordial understanding. Nor shall my loyal faith grow slack Although you put the embargo back; No doubt once more you'll countermand it; And anyhow this party scores Since, you'll supply the arms and stores The bill for which so rudely bores A constitutional bandit. At your expense, in fact, we go, We two, against a one-man foe (Of course you would not wish to hurt a Hair of our folk in vulgar broil; Your scheme is just to take and boil Inside a vat of native oil This vile impostor, HUERTA). Then here's my hand all warm and red, And we will march through fire and lead Waging the glorious war of Duty; Though impotent to read or write, I love the cause of Truth and Light, So God defend us in the fight For VILLA, Home and Beauty! O. S. * * * * * "A REVIEW OF THE PRIMATES. By DANIEL GERAUD ELLIOT. Three volumes. Monkeys, and especially the higher apes, have an unfailing interest for mankind. "--_"Times" Literary Supplement. _ But this is not the way that we ourselves should begin an article on theArchbishops. * * * * * A "SCENE" IN 1916. SHOWING THE DEVELOPMENT OF PARLIAMENTARY MANNERS. _MR. ASQUITH. _ I wish to ask the Prime Minister whether he will grant afull judicial enquiry into the recent military and naval movementscontemplated by the Government in Munster. _MR. LAW_ (who was greeted by shouts of "Assassin"). I see no necessity forany such enquiry. I am prepared to answer for the Government on the floorof this House. _MR. LLOYD GEORGE. _ May I ask the right honourable gentleman how manymembers of the Government are interested in armament companies, and to whatextent they would have profited by the contemplated Tipperary pogrom?(Shouts of "Yah, " "Thieves!" "Thieves!" "Brigands!" and "Yah!") _MR. LAW. _ I utterly and entirely repudiate the suggestion of the righthonourable gentleman. (Opposition shouts of "Liar" and "Coward. ") Theinformation the right honourable gentleman has gained during his intrigueswith the rank and file of the Welsh regiments is totally---- _MR. SPEAKER. _ Order, order. That reply obviously does not arise from thequestion. _MR. ASQUITH. _ I wish to ask the right honourable gentleman if he isprepared to make a statement on oath. Nothing else will convince thecountry, as it knows by experience that Ministers are steeped in falsehood. _MR. LAW. _ That is an allegation against the honour of Ministers. (_MR. CHURCHILL_, "They have none. ") If the Leader of the Opposition desires toattempt to substantiate these charges I will give him a day--or a week, ifhe wants it. _MR. SWIFT MACNEILL. _ Afraid of five years for perjury. Blackguards! _MR. AMERY (President of the Local Government Board). _ Mr. Speaker, shouldI be in order if I appealed to you to ask Members on the other side tomaintain the honourable traditions of this House? _MR. JOHN WARD. _ All they care for is the £5, 000 a year. _MR. SPEAKER. _ Order, order! I must ask honourable members not to turnQuestion time into a debate. _MR. CHURCHILL. _ I beg to ask the Prime Minister whether the guns of thefirst cruiser squadron are not at this moment trained on Limerick, and toask him if ample time will be given for women and children to escape beforethe massacre begins? _MR. BONAR LAW. _ The first cruiser squadron is not at Limerick. (Loudshouts of "Liar!") That disposes of the second part of the question also. (Cries of "No!" "Shame!" "Child-murderer!") _LORD WINTERTON (Junior Lord of the Treasury). _ Mr. SPEAKER, may I drawyour attention to the fact that several Members of the Opposition shout"Liar" at the Prime Minister whenever he rises to his feet? _MR. SPEAKER. _ The term is certainly an objectionable one, butunfortunately there are Parliamentary precedents. _MR. RAYMOND ASQUITH. _ Yes, that's what he used to call Papa. _MR. LLOYD GEORGE. _ May I ask the Prime Minister if it is true that victimsof the Celtic pogrom are to be refused treatment by their panel doctors? _MR. LAW. _ As there will be no victims (shouts of "Found out" and "Afraid")the question of medical treatment does not arise. _MR. JOHN REDMOND. _ Enough of this foolery. Enough of the deliberatefalsehood of Ministers. I go to Ireland at once, where half a millionresolute, dour, determined men are ready to defy this Government ofassassins. (Loud Opposition cheers and waving of handkerchiefs, as Mr. REDMOND retiresfrom the House. ) * * * * * [Illustration: "A SORT OF WAR. " PRESIDENT WILSON. "I HOPE YOU ARE NOT SHOOTING AT MY DEAR FRIENDS THEMEXICANS?" U. S. A. GUNNER. "OH, NO, SIR. WE HAVE STRICT ORDERS ONLY TO AIM AT ONEHUERTA. "] * * * * * [Illustration: OUR CRAFTY CATERERS. Born in Odessa In 1901, and at 13 years of age thinking nothing of his 900mile Walk to the Fair at Nijni-Novgorod, our hero--the "poularde deSurrey"--at last arrives in London. Now, how to make this treasure palatable to the British Public? First ofall we'll catch him (the British Public) in our cosy Appetiser Department. Then Signor Sarsaparillo shall entertain him in the cloak-room. We'll waft him up to the dining-room to the strains of the Blue DanubianBand. We'll give him "La Bohême" before the "poularde"; and the Maxixeduring. A Terrible Turk shall give him coffee (with Coon accompaniment);and we'll send him home with a silver-mounted sterilised tooth-pick andpresents for Madame and Baby. There!] * * * * * PER ASPARAGOS AD ASTRA. Now we who sense the odorous Spring Our various winter garments fling, Cast off the heat promoting clout That wise men keep till May is out, And hail with joy and wear too soon Suitings more fitly planned for June. 'Twas ever thus; and now we look Askance on what arrides the cook, Behold her boil and chop and strain For us the cabbage all in vain. She would have dished what most we scout, But Brussels-sprouts at last are out. And something else at last is in, A something green and straight and thin. Long looked for, long desired, its head Well raised above its English bed, It smiles at last and blesses us, Our garden-grown asparagus! Let others in their praise advance The monstrous branches sent from France; You ope your mouth as 'twere a door, And bite off half an inch, not more; And then perforce you lay aside A tasteless foot of wasted pride. Besides, you find that what you praise, Is mostly sauce--a Hollandaise. The succulent, the English kind, You pick it up and eat it blind; In fact, you lose your self-control, And dip, and lift, and eat it whole. And some day, when the beds have ceased To cater for your daily feast, You'll see--the after growth is fair-- A green and feathery forest there, And "here, " you'll say, "is what shall cheer My palate in the coming year. "Yea, when these graceful pigmy trees Have swayed their last in any breeze, And all is bare, I may again See the ripe heads that pierce the plain, And eat once more before I die Our garden-grown asparagi. " R. C. L. * * * * * Massage in the 18th Century. "_Anatomy. _ Albinus (Bernard Siegfried). Tables of the Skeleton and Muscles of the Human Body, translated from the Latin. Folio, half calf (joints cracked, back rubbed). _Edinburgh 1777-78. _" * * * * * A Special Correspondent of _The Evening News_ wrote last week:-- "As for the Queen, from the moment she stepped off the yacht till she got into the train she went on smiling and bowing and murmuring 'Merci, oh merci bien?' I do not, of course, know what she was thinking. " Possibly it had something to do with gratitude. * * * * * [Illustration: A LIGHTNING ROYALTY ACADEMICIAN. (_All done while you wait. _) (Mr. DENNIS EADIE. )] * * * * * MY LORD'S DINNER. [A companion picture to Mr. EDWARD KNOBLAUCH'S play, _My Lady's Dress_. ] PROLOGUE. William _and_ Mary _have returned from the Royalty Theatre, where they have attended a play in several scenes each representing some incident in the making of a lady's dress. _ _William_ (_for the ninth time_). Capital dinner we had to-night, dear. Don't know when I've had a better. _Mary. _ Oh, bother your old dinner. What did you think of the play? _William. _ H'm, not bad. Don't know that I care about those dream plays. (_After deep thought_) Capital caviare, that. _Mary_ (_annoyed_). You think of nothing but your food. Didn't you thinkDENNIS EADIE was splendid? _William. _ Very clever. A remarkable _tour de force_. H'm. Capitalwhitebait, too. Did you notice the saddle of lamb, my love? Capital. _Mary. _ I thought it was all very novel and interesting. _William. _ The dinner, my dear? Not exactly novel, but certainly---- _Mary_ (_coldly_). I wasn't referring to the dinner. If you could manage toget your mind off your meals occasionally, I should like to discuss theplay. _William_ (_yawning_). Not to-night, dear, I'm sleepy.... Capital dinner;don't know when I've had a better.... Very, very sleepy. [_He goes to bed and dreams. _ THE DREAM. SCENE I. _Moscow. The top of the Shot Tower where they make the caviare. _ Alexandrovitch _is discovered at work. Enter_ Marieovitch. _Alexandrovitch_ (_dropping his sturgeon and clasping her round the neck_). At last, my love! _Marieovitch. _ Be careful. Williamovitch suspects. He hates you. _Alexandrovitch. _ Nonsense, love! He's only jealous because my caviare isso much rounder than his. _Marieovitch. _ He knows I am tired of him. Lookout; here he is. _Enter_ Williamovitch _from behind a heap of buttered toast. _ _Williamovitch_ (_sternly_). I know all. _Alexandrovitch_ (_pushing him over the edge of the tower_). Then takethat! [_Exit_ Williamovitch. SCENE II. _A typefounder's in Italy, where they make the macaroni letters for the consommé. _ _Gulielmo_ (_sorting the O's_). One million, three hundred and eighty-seventhousand, six hundred and forty-five. There are two missing, Maria. _Maria_ (_nervously_). Perhaps you counted wrong, Gulielmo. _Gulielmo_ (_scornfully_). Counted wrong! And me the best macaroni sorterin Italy! Now. Let's get the "E's" together. (_After a pause_) Two million, four hundred and five thousand, two hundred and ninety seven. _Corpo diBacco!_ There are two "E's" 'missing'! _Maria. _ Don't you remember there was one "E" the reader wouldn't pass? _Gulielmo_ (_suspiciously_). I made another to take its place. There's somedevilry in this. Maria, girl, what are you hiding from me? _Maria_ (_confused_). Oh, Gulielmo, I didn't want you to know. [_She takes a handful of letters from her lap and gives them shyly to him. _ _Gulielmo_ (_sorting them_). Two "O's, " two "E's, " two "L's----" What's allthis? _Maria_ (_overcome_). Oh! _Gulielmo. _ "I LOVE GULIELMO. " (_Ecstatically_). Maria! You love me? [_She falls into his arms. _ SCENE III. _A whitebait stud farm at Greenwich. _ Polly _is discovered outside one of the stables. Enter_ Alfred. _Polly. _ Can't think what's the matter with Randolph this morning. That's'is fifth slice of lemon, and 'e's as fierce and 'ungry as ever. _Alfred_ (_gaily_). Never mind the whitebait now, sweet'eart, when we'regoing to be spliced this afternoon. 'Ullo, 'ere 's Bill. _Enter_ Bill. _Bill. _ Wot cher, Alf! The guv'nor wants yer. (_Exit_ Alfred _hastily. _)And now, Polly, my girl, wot's all this about marrying Alf when you'reengaged to me? _Polly. _ Oh, Bill, I'm sorry. Do let me off. I love Alfred. _Bill. _ I'll let yer off all right. [_He goes towards_ Randolph's _stable. _ _Polly_ (_shrieking_). Bill! Wotcher doing? _Bill_ (_opening the stable door_). Just giving Randolph a bit of a runlike. 'E wants exercise. [Randolph, _the fiercest of the whitebait, dashes out and springs at_ Polly's _throat. _ _Polly. _ Help! Help! _Bill. _ P'raps Alfred will 'elp you--when 'e comes back. I'll tell 'im. [_Exit leisurely. _ SCENE IV. _A saddler's shop at Canterbury, New Zealand. _ _Molly. _ Busy, Willie? _William. _ Always busy at the beginning of the lamb season, Molly. Thegentlemen in London will have their saddle. _Molly. _ Too busy to talk to me? _Willie. _ Plenty of time to talk when we're married. Shan't have to work sohard then. _Molly. _ Because of my money you mean, Willie dear. You aren't onlymarrying me for my money, are you? _Willie. _ Of course not. [_He kisses her perfunctorily and returns to his work. _ _Molly. _ Because--because I've lost it all. _Willie_ (_sharply_). What's that? _Molly. _ I've lost it all. _Willie. _ Then what are you doing in my shop? Get out! _Molly_ (_with dignity_). I'm going, Willie, And I haven't lost my money atall. I just wanted to test you. Good-bye for ever. [_She goes out. _ Willie _in despair rushes into the garden and buries his head in the mint. _ SCENE V. [This part of William's dream was quite different from the rest, and it was the only scene in which his wife didn't appear. ] _An actor-manager's room. _ _Actor-manager. _ Yes, I like your play immensely. I don't suppose anyactor-manager has ever played so many parts before in one evening. Butcouldn't you get another scene into it? _William. _ Well, I've got an old curtain-raiser here, but it doesn't seemto fit in somehow. _Actor-manager. _ Nonsense. In a dream play it doesn't matter about fittingin. What's it about? _William. _ Oh, the usual sort of love thing. Only it's in the tropics, andI really want an ice-pudding scene. _Actor-manager. _ Then make it the North Pole. _William. _ Good idea. [_Exit to do so. _ EPILOGUE. _Next morning. _ _William. _ I've had an extraordinary, dream, dear, and--er--I've decidednot to eat so much in future. _Mary. _ My darling boy! [_She embraces him; and as the scene closes William takes his fifth egg. _ CURTAIN. A. A. M. * * * * * [Illustration: AN ALTRUIST MALGRÉ LUI. ] * * * * * NEWS FROM THE FRONT. ["THE SARDINE WAR. "--_Headline in a daily paper. _] There was peace at first in the tight-packed tin, Content in the greasy gloom, Till the whisper ran there were some therein With more than their share of room; And I saw the combat from start to end, I heard the rage and the roar, For I was the special _The Daily Friend_ Sent out to the Sardine War. The courage was high on every face As the wronged ones took their stand On the right of all to a resting-place In a tinfoil fatherland; Yes, each one, knowing he fought for home, Cast craven fear to the gales, And the oil was whipped to a creamy foam By the lashing of frenzied tails. You may think that peace has been quite assured When you've packed them tight inside, But the sardine's spirit is far from cured When you salt his outer hide; They gave no quarter, they scorned to yield, To a fish they died in the press, And, dying, lay on the stricken field In an oleaginous mess. * * * * * ISABEL IN SPRINGTIME. There is a gladness in her eye, And in the wind her dancing tread Appears in swiftness to outvie The scurrying cloudlets overhead; In brief, her moods and graces are Appropriate to the calendar. And yet methinks that Mother Earth, Awake from sleep, hath less a share In this, my darling's, present mirth, Than Madame Chic, _costumiére_; My love would barter Spring's display For Madame's window any day. * * * * * "The members at the Club dance last Saturday were rather small--but this is only natural after four dances in 'the week' and the summer approaching. "--_Pioneer. _ Certainly nothing gets the weight down so quickly. * * * * * THE IMPRESSING OF PERKINS. "I hope, " said my friend and host, Charles, "I hope that you'll manage tobe comfortable. " I looked round as much of the room as I could see from where I stood andventured also to hope that I should. "The tap to the right, " he said, indicating the amenities, "is hot water;the left tap is cold, and the tap in the middle.... " "Lukewarm?" I asked. "Soft water, for shaving and so on. But Perkins will see to it. " Some people can assume a sort of detached attitude in the early morning, while body-servants get them up and dress them and send them downstairs, but me, I confess, these attentions overawe. "Perkins is one of thosestrong silent men, is he not, " I asked, "who creep into one's bedroom inthe morning and steal one's clothes when one isn't looking?" Charles has no sympathy with Spartans and did not answer. "I think you'llfind everything you want. There's a telephone by the bed. " I said that Iwas not given to talking in my sleep. "Then, " said he, "if you prefer towrite here is the apparatus, " and he pointed to a desk that would havesatisfied all the needs of a daily editor. "Thanks, " I said, looking at the attractive bed, "but I expect to be toobusy in the morning even to write. " I yawned comfortably. "Though it may bethat I shall dictate, from where I lie, a note or two to my stenographer. " Charles doubted, with all solemnity, whether Perkins could manageshorthand, but promised to enquire about it. He's a dear solid fellow, isCharles, and he does enjoy being rich. Moreover, he means his friends toenjoy it, too. Lastly, "If you don't find everything you want, " he said, "you've only to ring, " and he pointed to a, row of pear-shaped appendageshanging by silken cords from the cornice. "Heavens, " said I, seizing his arm, "you're never going to leave adefenceless man alone with half-a-dozen bell-pushes!" Charles softened; he admits to a weakness for electricity. "Some areswitches, some are bell-pushes, and one, " he said, blushing, "is afire-alarm. " I climbed on to a chair forthwith and tied a big knot in the cord of thefire-alarm. "We'll get that safe out of the way first, " said I, and then hetutored me in the use of the others. After some repetition it was drummedinto me that the one nearest the bed was the switch of the getting-into-bedlight, and the next one to that the bell which rang in Perkins' upstairsquarters, The other four or five I found, when I came to study them alone, I had forgotten. I clambered into bed and with great intelligence pressed the correctswitch. Had I left it at that my problem would never have arisen. I have, however, a confession to make which ill accords with my luxurioussurroundings of the moment. It is that I am accustomed to press my trousersmyself by the homely and ignoble expedient of sleeping on them. My onlyexcuse is that I am a heavy sleeper. So automatic is the process, that Iwas wrapped in sheets and darkness before it occurred to me that I hadplaced the trousers I had just doffed under the mattress on which I nowlay. I could not help thinking how the masterful Perkins would take it whenhe came to look for them in the morning. I conceived him picking up mydinner-jacket here, my waistcoat there, and wandering round the room in ahopeless quest for the complement of my suit, trying to recall the eventsof the previous night and to remember whether I was English or Scottish ... And then, more in sorrow than in anger, spotting the lost ones.... As I contemplated this picture I was moved to pity Perkins, torn asunderbetween two dreadful alternatives, the one of leaving the trousers thereand committing a dereliction of duty, the other of removing them stealthilyand committing an indelicacy. I was also moved to pity myself, lying supineunder his speechless contempt. I resolved to spare us both, to get out ofbed and put things right. I stretched out a hand for the switch. I graspedit with an effort. I pressed the button. No light ensued. I pressed again ... And again ... With no visible result. I pressed oncemore, and still there was a marked absence of light. I lay back in bed and, cursing Charles, thought out his instructions. Cautiously I reached outagain, pressed once more and succeeded. The continued oscillation of thesecond cord revealed to me what you have already guessed, that I hadmeanwhile rung the bell in Perkins' sleeping quarters four times. To me the approaching climax was horrible; I could see no way of dealingwith the situation shortly about to arise. To those who have never knownand feared Perkins or his like it may seem that there were at least twosimple courses to pursue: to lie boldly and deny that I had rung; or totell the truth and admit that I had made a mistake. Men like Perkins, however, are not to be lied to; still less may they be made the recipientsof confessions. Methods of self-defence were therefore unthinkable, and Iknew instinctively that I must assume the offensive. I must order himcurtly, upon his arrival, to do something. But what? As I waited anxiouslyI tried to think of some service I could require at this hour. What can aman want at 1 A. M. Except to go to sleep? Even the richest must do that forhimself. There were footsteps outside.... Perkins'.... I thought harder than I haveever thought before, but my life seemed replete with every modern comfort. "Yes, Sir?" said Perkins. "Ah, is that you, Perkins?" said I to gain time, and he said it was. I shut my eyes and tried to think. Perkins stood silent. I had some idea ofleaving it at that, of turning out the light and letting Perkins decideupon his own course of action. I was just about to do this when I had abrain wave. After all, he was paid to do the dirty work and not I. At that moment I was anticipated. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?" said the Model. "There is, " said I, in my most _négligé_ voice. "Kindly turn out my light. " Perkins may have been annoyed about this, but he was certainly impressed. His demeanour suggested that he had met autocrats before but never such athorough autocrat as I. For the rest of my time there I pressed my trousersin the usual way, well knowing that he would regard the process not as themakeshift of a valetless pauper but as the eccentricity of an overstaffedmulti-billionaire. * * * * * The Honest Hypocrites. "Among the most formidable foes to the reform of our industrial system are those who pretend to be most bitterly opposed to it. " _Sunday Times. _ * * * * * Seen in a window in Clapham:-- "PAINLESS ADVICE FREE EXTRACTIONS. " This "derangement of epitaphs" fails to attract us. * * * * * "The Counterfoil in centre must be returned to the Syndicate, which is placed in the Large Wheel with other Subscribers' Tickets for the Draw. "--_Derby Sweep Circular. _ "As formerly, the ticket-holders, with their numbers, were placed in a barrel and thoroughly shaken up. "--_Hamilton Advertiser. _ These repressive measures ought to satisfy even the sternest member of theAnti-Gambling League. * * * * * [Illustration: _Harold_ (_wanting a partner for the next dance_). "ARE YOUVACANT?"] * * * * * CIVIL WAR; _Or, Some Words about CARTER_. Not always for the noblest martyr, My countrymen, ye forge The crown of gold nor wreathe the laurel; One protestant ye count as moral, Neglect another. Take the quarrel Extant between myself and CARTER (Henchman of D. LLOYD GEORGE). I see the Unionists grow oranger, I mark the wigs upon the green, The rooted hairs of Ulster bristle And all men talk of CARSON'S gristle, Then why should this absurd epistle, Put down beside my little porringer, Provoke not England's spleen? Did HAMPDEN positively jeopardise His life, and did the axe Extinguish CHARLES'S hopes of boodle And all the wrongs of bad days feudal For this--that CARTER, the old noodle, With t's all crossed and dot-bepeppered i's, Should change my income-tax? Thank heaven that one heart in Albion Retains its oaken core; Alone I can withstand my duty, And so my answer to this beauty Is simply "Rats!" and "Rooti-tooti! My toll for this year _must_ and _shall_ be on The sums declared before. " If not--if all things go by jobbery And tape dyed red with sin, Come, let him make a small collusion And, when he writes his next effusion, Grant me, we'll say, six years' exclusion From re-assessments of his robbery. And then--I _may_ come in. But, if the fiend still stays importunate, My blood is up. _Ad lib. _, Till at the door the bailiff rattles And rude men reave me of my chattels, I shall prolong these wordy battles, And may the just cause prove the fortunate; Phoebus defend my nib! So long as gray goose yields a pinion, So long as ink is damp, Mine to resist the loathly fetters Of D. LLOYD GEORGE and his abettors, Posting innumerable letters To CARTER (D. LLOYD GEORGE'S minion), Minus the penny stamp. EVOE. * * * * * From _The Birmingham Daily Mail's_ report of a fire:-- "The night-watchman was aroused. " A shame to disturb the poor fellow's sleep. * * * * * [Illustration: _Squire. _ "WELL, MATTHEW, AND HOW ARE YOU NOW?" _Convalescent. _ "THANKEE, SIR, I BE BETTER THAN I WERE, BUT I BEANT AS WELLAS I WERE AFORE I WAS AS BAD AS I BE NOW. "] * * * * * ASKING FOR IT. The big clock in the station pointed three minutes to the hour, and mytrain went at one minute past, so I didn't waste words with the man in thebooking-office. "Third r'turn, Wat'loo. " Nothing happened. He was there all right, but he neither spoke nor made anyattempt to give me my ticket; he merely looked. "Third r'turn, Wat'loo, " I repeated, and again, inserting my face as far aspossible into the window, very firmly, distinctly and offensively. "Thirdre-turn, Wat-er-loo. " Then he spoke, slowly. "Sorry, Sir, I can't do it. You have hit on the onestation to which we don't issue tickets. Any other one I could manage foryou, but----" "Look here, " I said sternly, "you don't seem to know your business. If youhaven't got a printed ticket, can't you make one out on paper? Hurry up, man; my train leaves in a minute or two. " "Yes, " he said more slowly than ever, "I could do that--we have blank formsfor that purpose; but all the same I won't do it. " "Oh, you won't? And why?" "Well, I don't know what the fare is. I----" "All right, " I said. "You don't appear to be drunk, so I imagine you'retrying to be funny. As your sense of humour doesn't correspond with mine Ishall take great pleasure in reporting you to the station-master;" and Iprepared to stalk off. "Wait a moment, please, " he said, leaning a bit forward and dropping hisvoice to a confidential whisper, "I'll give you a tip. You don't want aticket at all, Sir; you can get there for nothing. " "What do you mean?" said I. "It needn't cost you a halfpenny, " he went on, smiling. "It's not manylines that have a station like this, but we----" And then, but not until then, did I realise where I was. "Oh, " I said, "er--third return--er--Surbiton. " I don't think railway ticket-mongers ought to be allowed to have a sense ofhumour. * * * * * IN A GOOD CAUSE. _Mr. Punch_ ventures to remind his readers that the Centenary dinner of theArtists' General Benevolent Institution is to be held on May 6th, under thechairmanship of H. R. H. PRINCE ARTHUR OF CONNAUGHT. This Institution devotesitself to the relief of artists, and the orphans of artists, who are inneed. _Mr. Punch_, who is to be represented among the Stewards at thedinner by his Art Editor, begs to return his most sincere thanks for thegenerous gifts he has already received from his readers, and will be verygrateful for any further contributions addressed to Mr. F. H. TOWNSEND, "Punch" Office, 10, Bouverie Street, E. C. * * * * * "The King this morning received the Bishop of Sheffield, who was introduced to Mr. McKenna (Home Secretary), and did homage upon appointment. "--_Birmingham Daily Post. _ Mr. MCKENNA (_accepting homage_). "And now what do you think of my WelshDisestablishment Bill?" * * * * * [Illustration: A DIVERSION. BURGLAR GEORGE. "IT'S YOUR MONEY I WANT!" JOHN BULL. "MY DEAR FELLOW, IT'S POSITIVELY A RELIEF TO SEE YOU. I'VE JUSTBEEN HAVING SUCH A _HORRIBLE_ DREAM!"] * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. (EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M. P. ) [Illustration: "THE INQUEST OF THE NATION. " _Mr. ASQUITH_ (_to Jury of ASQUITHS_). "Gentlemen of the Jury, you haveheard the prisoner ASQUITH plead 'Not Guilty. ' This should be sufficientevidence to enable you to arrive at a unanimous verdict of acquittal. " [_Prisoner leaves court without a stain on his character. _] _House of Commons, Monday, April 10. _--Lively half-hour with Questions. Cluster on printed Paper indefinitely extended by supplementaries. Onlyonce did SPEAKER interpose. Colonel GREIG, sternly regarding badgeredPREMIER, asked, "Has the attention of the right hon. Gentleman beendirected to No. 453 of the King's Regulations?" This too much for SPEAKER. If it had been the odd 53 it might not have beenunreasonable. "The right hon. Gentleman, " he remarked, "cannot be expected to carry allthe Regulations in his head. The hon. Member had better give notice. " Cannonade of Questions which opened along full length of Opposition Bencheswas concerned with the Plot. "The Plot!" MEMBER FOR SARK savagely repeated. "That's the ineffectiveheading in the newspapers. In order to keep up their circulation inparsonages, board-rooms of directors, and suchlike fastidious quarters theyare reticent with adjectives. It's only Mrs. PATRICK CAMPBELL who couldselect the appropriate one and give it due emphasis. " Short of that, Opposition did pretty well in denunciation of the Plot andcondemnation of dastardly Government responsible for its planning. CHALONERopened fire with demand that judicial enquiry should be ordered into"allegations as to an unauthorised plot to over-awe Ulster by armedoccupation. " BUTCHER, WORTHINGTON EVANS, HELMSLEY, ARCHER-SHEE, LOCKER-LAMPSON, KINLOCH-COOKE--what was it GRANDOLPH, _à propos_ ofSCLATER-BOOTH, said of men who "had double-barrelled names"?--blazed away. Sometimes in succession; occasionally in platoons. In each caseimperturbable PREMIER gave the short reply that did not turn away wrath. Onthe contrary, angry passions rose. Member for East Edinburgh, as usual going the whole HOGGE, suggestedarraignment of BONAR LAW on charge of high treason. KELLAWAY, anxious toget to business, enquired "whether these Questions might not be addressedto the spies in the service of the Opposition. " At end of half-hour eventemper of PREMIER was ruffled. Asked a tenth Supplementary Question byBUTCHER, he sharply replied:-- "I decline to answer any such enquiry. " Ironical applause of Opposition drowned in burst of angry cheering fromMinisterialists. SARK, as mentioned, unusually roused. As a rule successfully affectsattitude of one "who cares for none of these things. " To-day moved tounsuspected depths. "Here, " he says, "is Ulster, for two years arming with avowed intention offorcibly resisting the law of the land. The Constitutional Party in thiscountry, bulwark of Law and Order, who, when the Southern Counties ofIreland were in revolt, applauded PRINCE ARTHUR'S Cromwellian command, 'Don't hesitate to shoot, ' backs them up, in my opinion very properly. CARSON has developed Napoleonic genius in reviewing troops on parade. F. E. SMITH has, with startling effect, 'galloped' along their massed ranks. LONDONDERRY has pledged his knightly word to be in the firing line when thetrumpet sounds. All the while, to the bewilderment of onlookers from theContinent, who confess they are further off than ever from understandingJohn Bull, to the creation of ominous restlessness among their ownsupporters, the Ministry, Brer Rabbit of established Governments, have'lain low and said nuffin', ' much less have they done anything. Suddenly, without word of warning, they take steps for the protection of militarystores in Armagh, Omagh, and Carrickfergus. "That's their account of the transaction. We know better. It was acarefully devised Plot to take CARSON'S hundred thousand armed and drilledmen at their word and compel them to fight. Not since war began has therebeen such unjustifiable--don't wish to use strong language, but mustsay--such really rude procedure on part of a so-called civilisedGovernment. " _Business done. _--MCKENNA moves Second Heading of Welsh ChurchDisestablishment Bill. _Tuesday. _--Wholesome spirit of enquiry animates House just now. BONNER LAWleads off with demand for judicial inquiry into "the Plot. " Fact that itsappointment would establish novel precedent in constitutional procedureadds interest to situation. PREMIER, with emphatic thump of the table thatreminds it of GLADSTONE in his prime, stands by constitutional practice. "If, " he said, "the right hon. Gentleman is prepared to make and sustainhis allegation of dishonourable conduct on part of the Ministers, I willgive him the earliest possible day to bring it forward. But, " and here camethe thump on the long-suffering table, "he must make it in this House. " Inspired by this high principle of getting at bottom of shady things, RICHARDSON has CHIEF WHIP up and sternly questions him about appointment ofcertain public auditors under Industrial and Provident Acts. Position of CHIEF WHIP, though dignified and important, has inevitableresult of withdrawing him from participation in debate. ILLINGWORTH now hashis chance. Made the most of it. Head paper of prodigious length containingmemoirs of the two gentlemen concerned, together with succinct history ofthe birth and progress of the Hetton Downs Co-operative Society, countyDurham, of which one of them had been secretary. House entranced. Rounds of cheering marked progress of narrative, concluding passages inconveniently rendered inaudible by tumultuousapplause. Apprehension in some quarters that this will be the ruin of a reallycapable, universally popular Whip. EDMUND TALBOT goes so far as to hint atapprehension that ILLINGWORTH will turn up every afternoon at Question timeand give us another speech. Fear exaggerated. ILLINGWORTH a shrewd Yorkshireman; knows very wellbrilliant success of to-day was due to concatenation of accidentalcircumstance. Not likely to risk suddenly acquired reputation by hastyrepetition of exploit. _Business done. _--Welsh Church Disestablishment Bill passes Second Readingby majority of 84. _Thursday. _--Spirit of enquiry alluded to above manifests itself in freshdirection. The other day CHARLES PRICE wanted to know all about politicalpensions granted to ex-Ministers. Intrigued by disclosure of particulars ofestate of our old friend GRAND CROSS. It appears he left property valued at£91, 617. That a pleasant incident closing a worthy life. But, as Member forCentral Edinburgh points out, he had for twenty-two years been in receiptof pension of £2, 000 a year, a dole from public funds obtainable, as PRIMEMINISTER admits, only upon statutory declaration of a state of povertyincompatible with the maintenance of position proper to an ex-Minister. PRICE wants to know in the interests of the overburdened taxpayer whetheraggregate sum drawn by the noble pensioner may not be recovered from hisestate? PREMIER thinks not. PRICE, undaunted, returns to the attack to-day. Cites cases of two otherex-Ministers drawing political pensions in supplement of private estate andfees derived from manifold directorships in public companies. Wants to knowif payment can be stopped? PREMIER says it is a matter of personal honour. Must be left toconsideration of noble lords concerned. _Business done. _--Committee of Supply. * * * * * [Illustration: ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. "Harrowing tales were told about churchyards being seized, ploughed up and let as allotments. "--_Sir ALFRED MOND on Nonconformist protest against the Disendowment of the Welsh Church. _] * * * * * THE SEASON'S DELIGHTS. Sir Archibald and Lady Bayne Have struggled up to town again, Leaving the gentle Shropshire air For London dust and London glare, And just that London folk may see Their lumpish daughter, Dorothy. Sir Archie, in the club all day, Thinks of the bills he'll have to pay. His wife is bored, and hates the smell Of cooking in a cheap hotel. She also very much deplores The lack of likely bachelors. While Dolly, in the season's swing, Longs for the Shropshire woods in spring And a dog chained up at home, poor thing! * * * * * "Members of the Oxford University 'relay' tea are in fine shape. "--_Daily Citizen. _ The one whose business it is to take up the running at the muffin stage isparticularly rotund. * * * * * "He would rather he went for three years, for one could readily understand that for the first year he simply touched the fungi of the Council business. "--_Hexham Herald. _ Motto for rival town council: "There's no moss on _us_. " * * * * * [Illustration: _Sandy_ (_newly arrived in the Canadian forest land_). "WHATNA BEAST'S YON?" _Native. _ "A YOUNG MOOSE. " _Sandy. _ "OCH, HAUD YER TONGUE! IF THAT'S A YOUNG MOOSE I'D LIKE TO SEE ANEO' YER AULD RATS!"] * * * * * MUSICAL NOTES. As a concrete protest against Jumbomania, or the worship of mammothdimensions, the prodigious success of Tiny Titus, America's latestwonder-child, is immensely reassuring. In the Albert Hall, where he madehis _début_ amid scenes of corybantic enthusiasm last week, the diminutive_virtuoso_ was hardly visible to the naked eye. (As a matter of fact he isonly 21 inches high and weighs just under 11 lb. ) Yet by his colossalpersonality he dominated the vast assemblage and inspired the orchestra tosuch feats of dynamic diabolism as entirely eclipsed the most momentousachievements of any full-grown conductor from NERO to NIKISCH. * * * * * What renders the performance of this tremendous tot so awe-inspiring is thefact that he is not merely a musical illiterate, who cannot yet read a noteof music, but that he has received no education of any kind! Born atTipperusalem, Oklahoma, on the 15th of March, 1912, he has for parents aclerk in the Eagle Bakery and a Lithuanian laundress. He never touchesmeat, not even baked eagles, but subsists entirely on peaches and popcorn. He has been compared to MOZART, but the comparison is ridiculous, forMOZART was carefully trained by his father, and at the age of four was afinished executant. But it is quite otherwise with Tiny Titus, who knows nomusic, and yet by the sole power of his genius comprehends the musicalheights unattainable by adults. MOZART, in short, was an explicablemiracle, while Tiny Titus is an insoluble Sphinx. * * * * * From the innumerable tributes which have been paid to the genius of thisunprecedented phenomenon we can only make a brief and inadequate selection. Prince Boris Ukhtomsky writes, "When I listen to this infinitesimal giantof conductors I dream that mankind is dancing on the edge of a precipice. Tiny Titus is--the 32nd of the month. " Mme. Jelly Tartakoff, the famoussinger, writes: "I have been deeply shaken by Tiny Titus's concert. He isthe limit. " Of the homages in verse, perhaps the most touching is thebeautiful poem by Signor Ocarini, the charm of which we fear is butinadequately rendered in our halting translation:-- Leaving his pop-gun and his ball, He goes into the concert hall, No more a baby, and proceeds To do electrifying deeds. Wielding a wizard's wondrous skill, He leads us captive at his will, But only, mark you, to delight us, Unlike the cruel Emperor TITUS. O'ercome by harmony's aroma, I sink into a blissful coma, Until, my ecstasy to crown, The infant lays his baton down. From the Equator to the Poles Thy fame in widening circles rolls; But once the audience leave the hall Thy pop-gun claims thee, or thy ball. Imagination's wildest flight Pants far behind this wondrous mite, And ST. CECILIA and ST. VITUS Are vanquished by our Tiny Titus. * * * * * _The Evening News_ on the Crystal Palace ground:-- "The roof, back and sides of the stand have been taken away so that people standing on 'Spion Kop, ' the hill at the back ... Will have an uninterested view of the whole length of the field of play. " This, together with a nicely crowded journey both ways, makes up a pleasantafternoon. * * * * * PROFESSOR SPLURGESON ON PERSONALITY. STRANGE CONDUCT OF FASHIONABLE AUDIENCE. Professor Splurgeson delivered the first of his Claridge Lectures at thetheatre of the Mayfair University yesterday. The auditorium was crowded toits utmost extent, ladies largely predominating. Professor Peterson Prigwell, in a brief introductory speech, said that theachievements of Professor Splurgeson beggared the vocabulary of eulogy. More than any other thinker he had succeeded in reconciling high life withhigh thinking. Professor Splurgeson, speaking in fluent American, began by alluding to thenumerous links which bound together his country with that of his audience, and pointed out that nowhere was this affinity more pronounced than intheir philosophies. Both showed a concrete cosmopolitanism indissolublywedded to an idealistic particularism; both agreed that truth, no matterhow abysmally profound, could be expressed in language sufficiently simpleto attract large audiences of fashionable women; both, finally, made itclear that Pragmatism, unless allied with Feminism, was destined to berelegated to the limbo of the obsolete. (Cheers. ) Professor Splurgeson then went on to say that nowhere was this happyelement of intellectual compromise more needful than in discussing theproblem of personality. That problem comprised three questions: What arewe? What do we think of ourselves? and What do others think of us? Inregard to the first question, the philosophic pitch had been queered by theconflicting combinations of all thinkers from Corcorygus the Borborygmaticdown to WILLIAM JAMES. (Applause. ) Man had been defined as a gelasticapteryx, but in view of the attitude of women towards the Plumage Bill thedefinition could hardly be allowed to fit the requirements of the spindleside of creation. The danger of endeavouring to find some unifying conceptin a multiplicity of conflicting details was only equalled by that ofrecognizing the essential diversity which underlay a superficialhomogeneity. (Loud cheers. ) At this point the Professor paused for a few minutes while kümmel andcaviare sandwiches were handed round. Resuming, Professor Splurgeson discussed with great eloquence the secularduel between the Will and the Understanding. It was _ex hypothesi_impossible for the super-man, _à fortiori_ the super-woman, to yield to thedictates of the understanding. The question arose whether we might notprofitably invert metaphysic and, instead of trying to locate personalityin totality, begin with personality and work outwards. (Applause. )Otherwise the process of endeavouring to effect a synthesis of centripetaland centrifugal tendencies would invariably result in an indefinitedeadlock. Professor Splurgeson then proceeded to give a brief outline of what weusually think of ourselves. It was true that the expression of the faceheld a great place in the idea we had of other personalities, but how wasit that in the idea of ourselves it played so small a part? The reason wasthat we did not know our own countenances. (Sensation. ) If we were to meetourselves in the street we should infallibly pass without a recognition. More than that, we did not wish to know them. (Murmurs. ) Whenever we lookedat ourselves in the glass we systematically ignored the most individualfeatures--(cries of dissent)--and that was why we never, or very seldom, agreed that a photograph resembled or rendered justice to us. Theexplanation was to be found in the fact that we thought it undesirable tohave too individual features, just as we thought it undesirable to wear tooindividual clothes. At this point a violent uproar broke out, many of those present protestingagainst these statements as involving a libel on the entire female sex. Itbeing impossible to restore order, Professor Splurgeson had to be escortedto his hotel by policemen, the date of his second lecture beingindefinitely postponed. * * * * * [Illustration: "REJECTED": ANOTHER MOVING PICTURE TRAGEDY. ] * * * * * PANDEAN. 'Twas harvest time and close and warm, A day when tankards foam, But when there came the thunder-storm We'd got the last load home; We'd knocked off work--as custom is-- Though 'twern't but four o'clock, And turned in to Jim Stevens's, That keeps "The Fighting-Cock. " The rain roared down in thunder-thresh, And roared itself away, And left the earth as sweet and fresh As though 'twas only May; And from outside came stock and clove And half-a-dozen more; And then up steps a piping cove, A-piping at the door. We tumbles out to hear him blow, _Tu-wit_, he blew, _tu-wee_, On rummy pipes o' reeds a-row Their likes I never see; And as he blew he shook a limb And capered like a goat, And us bold lads we looks at him Like rabbits at a stoat. An oddly chap and russet red, He capered and he hopped, A bit o' sacking on his head Although the rain had stopped: _Tu-wee_ he blew, he blew _tu-wit_, All in the clean sunshine, And oh, the creepy charm of it Went crawling up my spine. I don't know if the others dreamed-- 'Cos why, they never tell-- But in a little bit it seemed I knew the tune quite well; It seemed to me I'd heard it once In woods away and dim, Where someone with a hornéd sconce Came capering like him. It held me tight, that tune o' his, It crawled on scalp and skin, Till sudden--'long o' choir-practice-- The belfry bells swung in; The piping cove he turned and passed, Till through the golden broom A mile along we saw him last Go lone-like up the coombe. The belfry bells they rang--one--two; The spell was lift from me, The spell the oddly piper blew-- _Tu-wit_, he went, _tu-wee_; The spell was lift that he had laid, But still--_tu-wee_, _tu-wit_-- I can't forget the tune he played, And that's the truth of it. * * * * * ANOMALIES OF FEMININITY. [Illustration: WHY IS IT THAT MISS BIRDIE MONTRESSOR (OF THE PALACEUM) ATTENDS THE ARTISTS' BALL AT COVENT GARDEN LIKE THIS? WHILE MRS. DUMPERLEY-BROWNE (OF WEST KENSINGTON) APPEARS AS ABOVE?] * * * * * THE AUTHOR. I was reading proofs in my corner of the compartment, as I often do, andevery time that I looked up I noticed the little shabby pathetic man withhis eyes fixed upon me. After a while I finished and put the proofs away with a sigh of relief. "So you're an author too?" he said. "Yes, " I said, though I didn't want to talk at all. "You wouldn't have thought I was one, " he went on, "would you? What wouldyou have said I did for a living?" I am too old to guess such things. One nearly always gives offence. Moreover, I have seen too many authors to show any surprise. "I'm not only a writer, " he said, "but I dare say I'm better known thanyou. " "That's not difficult, " I said. "I am read by thousands--very likely millions--every day. " "This is very strange, " I said. "Millions? Who are you, then? Not--no, youcan't be. You haven't a red beard; you are not in knickerbockers; you don'trecall SHAKSPEARE. Nor can you be Mrs. BARCLAY. And yet, of course, I musthave heard your name. Might I hear it again, now?" "My name is unknown, " he said. "All my work is anonymous. " "Not advertisements?" I said. "Not posters'? You didn't write the 'BrownCat's thanks, ' or 'Alas, my poor brother, ' or----" "Certainly not, " he replied. "My line is literature. Do you ever go tocinemas?" "Now and then, " I said, "when it rains, or I have an unexpected hour, or itis too late for a play. " "Then you have read me, " he said. "I write for cinemas. " "There isn't much writing there, " I suggested. "Oh, isn't there!" he answered. "Haven't you ever noticed in a cinema howletters are always being brought in on trays?" "Yes, I have. " "And then the hero or the villain or the victim opens them and reads them?" "Yes. " "And then the audience has to read them?" "Yes; there's no doubt about that. " "Well, those are all written by me. I mean, of course, all those that acertain film company requires. " "Marvellous, " I said. "I not only compose them--and it requires thought and compression, I cantell you--but I copy them out for the photographer too. " "Is that why they're always in the same handwriting?" I asked. "Yes, that's it, " he said. "It's mine. " "Then you can tell me something I have always wanted to know, " I said. "Ihave noticed that when a letter written, say, by the Duke of Pemmican isthrown on the screen it is always signed 'Duke of Pemmican. ' Why is that?In real life wouldn't he sign it 'Pemmican'?" "He might, " said my companion. "I don't know; but what I do know is thatthe cinema public expects a duke to call himself a duke; and we prideourselves on giving them what they want. " "If you were making KING GEORGE write a letter, " I said, "would he signhimself 'KING GEORGE'?" "Certainly, " he replied. "Why not? That's a good idea, anyway. A film witha letter from the KING in it would go. As it is, his only place in a cinemahas been to indicate--by the appearance of his portrait on the screen--thatthe show is over. It isn't fair that he should come to be looked upon as aspoil-sport like that. It has a bad effect on the young. Many thanks foryour suggestion. I'll give him a show with a letter. " * * * * * A QUESTION OF COURTESY. "Permit me, Sir, to pass you the potatoes. " "After you, " I inclined. My fellow-passenger helped himself, shrugging his eyebrows. It was aprovocative shrug--a shrug I could not leave at that. "You shrug your eyebrows, " I challenged. "A thousand pardons, " he answered; "but one never escapes it. " He courted interrogation. "What is it that one never escapes?" I asked. "The elaborate unselfishness of the age, " he replied a little petulantly. "I had two friends who starved to death of it. " "Indeed!" I offered him the salt. "Observe, " said my fellow-passenger, "that when you offer me the salt Iaccept it. Why should I deprive you of one of the little complacencies ofunselfishness? You see, my dear Sir, either you are to feel smug all over, or I am. Now, if I take the salt--so--I perform a true act of courtesy;but, if I postpone the salt, saying 'After you, ' I at once enter into thelists, jousting with you for the prize of self-satisfaction. With my twofriends it was, if I remember, a matter of Lancashire relish. It appears tome one of the ironies of Fate that they should have starved to death forwant of a sauce. I am reminded of an epicure who starved to death for wantof seasoning in his Julienne. But doubtless you are more interested in mytwo friends. I bow to your impatience. Hugh said, 'Allow me to offer youthe Lancashire relish. ' Arthur said, 'After you. ' Hugh was piqued at thisattempt to cheat his conscience out of a good mark. 'By no means, ' heinsisted. But Arthur, with a firm smile of politeness, only repeated, 'After you. ' "Hugh stuck out, and Arthur remained adamant. The contest lasted for ninedays. On the first day Hugh was studiedly courteous. It was, 'I could notdream, my dear Arthur, ' et-cetera. On the second day he was visiblyaggravated. It was, 'But, my dear Arthur, confess now, was it not I whooffered you the Lancashire relish first?' On the third day he was ominouslycalm. It was, 'You had better help yourself to the Lancashire relish, Arthur. ' On the fourth day he was frankly fierce. It was, 'By heaven, Arthur, if you don't take some Lancashire relish.... " And the only words inArthur's vocabulary all that time wore, 'After you! After you!' On thefifth day they came to grips on the floor, and through the sixth day andthe seventh they swayed without separating. I suspect that the strain ofthis tussle assisted starvation to its victory. On the eighth day they weretoo weak for combat; they could only glare at each other passionately fromopposite corners of the room; and on the ninth day came the end. "Arthur held out the longer--he had, you see, wasted less breath. When hesaw Hugh gasping in the penultimate throes of death, he mustered sufficientstrength to clutch the bottle, and even to crawl over to his friend's side. Hugh saw him coming and shut his teeth. Arthur was too feeble to prize themopen with his hands, but he had no difficulty in knocking out a couple withthe butt end of the bottle, and with a faint groan of triumph he succeededin pouring the contents down the cavity just before Hugh breathed his last. "The exertion naturally hastened his own end. He made an effort to reachthe well-stocked table of viands, but expired on the way, murmuring a finaland, as it strikes me, rather too dramatic 'After you!'" "When you have quite done with the cabbage, " I rapped out.... * * * * * Commercial Candour. "Our illustration is of an exclusive model which we can fake in the latest fabrics for 3-1/2 guineas. " _Advt. In "Dewsbury District News. _" * * * * * [Illustration: A FAIR WARNING. _Barber_ (_turning sharply round, to the grave discomfiture of his client'snose_). "DON'T GO, SIR; IT'S YOUR TURN NEXT. "] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks. _) The consideration of Fear seems to have a special appeal for the BENSONBros. Only the other day did ROBERT HUGH write a clever and hauntinglyhorrible story round it, and now here is ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER discoursing atlarge upon the same theme in _Where No Fear Was_ (SMITH, ELDER). It is abook that you will hardly expect me to criticise. One either likes thosegentle monologues of Mr. BENSON or is impatient under them--and in any casethe comments of a third party would be superfluous. Personally, I shouldcall this one of the most charming of those many hortatory volumes thathave come from his prolific pen; he has a subject that interests him, andis naturally therefore at his best in speaking of it. Many kinds of fearare treated in the book--those common to us all in childhood and youth andage; and there are chapters dedicated to men and women who have notablystriven with and overcome the dragon--JOHNSON and CHARLOTTE BRONTË andCARLYLE, and that friend of his, JOHN STERLING, whose letter from hisdeath-bed the author quotes and rightly calls "one of the finest humandocuments. " So now you see what kind of book it is, and whether youyourself are likely to respond to its appeal. It will, I am firmlypersuaded, bring encouragement to many and add to the already large numberswho owe a real debt of gratitude to the writer. Somewhere he has a passingreference to the time when first he began to receive letters from unknowncorrespondents. It set me thinking that it was no slight achievement tohave said so many human and helpful things so unpriggishly. And certainlyno one could call _Where No Fear Was_ a pedantic work; its qualities ofgentle humour and, above all, of sincerity absolve it from this charge andshould commend it even to those who, as a rule, suffer counsel unwillingly. * * * * * Forrard, so to speak, in Mr. CUTCLIFFE HYNE'S latest book you shalldiscover the three redoubtable stokers from whom it derives its title of_Firemen Hot_ (METHUEN). Combining the stedfast affection and loyalty ofthe _Three Musketeers_ or the imperishable soldiers of Mr. KIPLING with afaculty, when planning an escapade, for faultless English, only equalled bythat of the flustered client explaining what has happened to the lynx-eyedsleuth, they are as stout a trio as ever thrust coal into a furnace or fistinto a first mate's jaw. English, American and Scotch (and this would seemto be another injustice to the Green Island), in many ports and on manyseas they have many wild yet not wicked adventures, knowing, with aninstinctive delicacy born perhaps of the perusal of monthly magazines, where (even whilst crossing it) to draw the line. Aft, you shall comeacross once more the evergreen _Captain Kettle_, with his sartorial outfitunimpaired, his endless tobacco reserves not withered by a single leaf fromtheir former glory. About wind-jammers and tramp-steamers and the harboursof all the world the author writes familiarly as usual, and has severalingenious plots to unfold, together with one or two that are not so good;and I suppose that the whisky drunk in the pages of _Firemen Hot_ wouldfloat a small battleship, and the men laid out with lefts to the jaw, ifset end to end, stretch from Hull to Plymouth Docks. I sometimes wonderwhether Mr. CUTCLIFFE HYNE ever in an idle hour picks up a book by Mr. CONRAD, and, if so, what he thinks of it. * * * * * I confess to being both weary and a little sceptical of heroines (innovels) who leap from the obscurity of mountain glens to fame and afive-figure income as dancers. The latest example is the young person whofills the title _rôle_ in _Belle Nairn_ (MELROSE), and of her I must saythat she displays almost all the faults of her kind. She certainly didcarry on! On the first page she ran away from the humble cot of hervirtuous parents to seek the protection of an aunt whom she supposed (Icould not discover on what grounds) to be wealthy. However, so far fromthis, the aunt turned out to be even worse-housed than the parents, and inpoint of fact to keep what you might call a gambling-cot on her side of themountains, where a select circle met to drink smuggled spirits andentertain themselves in other ways that are at least sufficiently indicatedin the text. So _Belle_ shook off the dust of the aunt also; and soonafterwards found herself in an open boat, which was run down by the yachtof some real live lords, to one of whom she made violent eyes; at the sametime giving an estimate of her social position that went considerablybeyond what was warranted by the facts. It was about here that I found thatmy credulity with regard to _Belle_ was becoming over-taxed, though it maybe that Mr. ROY MELDRUM, her creator, believed in her; he has at least asolemnity and sincerity of style that carries him, apparently unwitting, through every peril of the grotesque. Of course _Belle_ comes to town, smashes all booking records at the Basilica, and establishes herself as theidol of society. Later on, I regret to add, she becomes, so to speak, tinged with wine. Perhaps this unfortunate failing is the most crediblething about her. So, while I envy those readers who will doubtless followher progress with delicious thrills, I can only repeat that it left meentirely unconvinced. * * * * * If I had to classify _Oh, Mr. Bidgood_ (LANE), then I should call it aconfused comedy, but I should want to add that Mr. PETER BLUNDELL writeswith such delightful irresponsibility that the confusion does not make muchdifference. To explain exactly what occurred during the voyage of the_Susan Dale_ from Ceylon until she was "in distress" off the Borneo coastis not within my scope of intellect, but I can draw up a short list of herpassengers (she was not supposed to carry any). I shall give _Mr. Todd_pride of place, partly because he owned her, but chiefly becausesea-sickness incited him to deeds of gallantry. Then there were twoskittish nurses, who got on board because one of them knew the secondengineer; there was _Colonel Tingle_ (swashbuckler); _Señor Canaba_(scamp), who had bribed both the captain and the chief engineer (_Mr. Bidgood_); and lastly a brace of crafty Malays, who were the second mate'scontribution to the batch, and made a very reluctant appearance upon thescene. Quite as important, however, as this human freight was _Susan's_cargo of five hundred kegs of gunpowder, shipped as pickled pork, and awonderful picture which at one time _Mr. Bidgood_ was induced to wear (itwas unframed) as extra underclothing. This expedient was not devised toprevent him from catching cold, but to save the picture from being stolen. Indeed, if anyone or anything had to be protected, _Bidgood_, for betteror worse, undertook the responsibility. A more engaging old ruffian I haveseldom encountered; among all the philanderings, conspiracies and mutiniesof this wild voyage he remains a master of volcanic versatility. And hishumour is of the right JACOBS brand. The really stupid thing about _Mr. Fergus Rowley_ was that he had neverbeen to see _The Great Adventure_. That popular play must have been runningfor a considerable while (and the story appeared in book-form of coursemuch earlier) before he decided to "fake" a suicide from the deck of theliner _Transella_ and leave his large possessions to an unknown andpenniless nephew. _It Will Be All Right_ (HUTCHINSON) is the sanguine titlewhich Mr. TOM GALLON has given to his latest novel; but whether he refersmerely to _Mr. Rowley's_ optimism or to the further possibility of hisreaders sharing that gentleman's ignorance of current drama, is more than Ican say. Anyhow, _Mr. Rowley_ disappeared, and his nephew succeeded to anestate largely impoverished by the depredations of _Gabriel Thurston_, afraudulent solicitor and unmitigated rogue after Mr. GALLON'S own heart(and mine). Meanwhile, _Mr. Rowley_ was reduced to playing butler in hisown house and thereby saving some of the most precious of his curios fromthe double waste of a spendthrift heir and an unscrupulous lawyer. Therewas also--need I mention it?--a Circe in the case. _It Will Be All Right_is an exercise in the picaresque school, lacking none of the author's usualraciness and vigour; but, if at the end we find _Mr. Fergus Rowley_ stillunable to reinstate himself, and left with no better consolation than the"Heigho" of his famous great-uncle _Anthony_, the fault, I feel, was hisown. He ought to have looked in at the Kingsway Theatre and providedhimself with the indispensable mole. * * * * * [Illustration: THE SPREAD OF CUBISM. ] * * * * * "ON. " (_A contemporary remarked recently how many names of famous men have endedin "on. "_) Call no man famous till you know his end. "On" is the most effective. Docked of "on, " Who's MILT? or NELS? or NEWT? "On" nerves Anon To blush unseen in public. Say, who penn'd _Don Juan?_ Was it BYR? Could BURT befriend The humpstruck? So curtailed and put upon, Would CAXT or PAXT, would LIPT, would WINST have shone? No, they would not. Their "on"'s what we commend. And what though "on" too lavishly impart The gift of greatness ("CHESTERT, " murmur some, "Were ample; not to mention A. C. BENS")? We're spared--remember this in "on's" defence-- A SHAWON ranting from a super-cart, A CAINEON skilled to beat the outsize drum. * * * * * *** Transcriber's Note: Typo "month" replaced with "mouth" in the fourthstanza of PER ASPARAGOS AD ASTRA. ***