PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 156. May 7, 1919. CHARIVARIA. No enthusiasm attended the recent revival of the curious May Daycustom of dancing round the snow man. *** Since the Muzzling Order, says a weekly paper, fewer postmen in theWest End have been bitten by dogs. We are asked by the Dogs' TradeUnion to point out that this is not due to the Muzzling Order, butto the fact that just at present there is a fine supply of dairy-fedmilkmen in that district. *** A negress has just died in South America, aged 136. It is supposedthat the exodus of so many of her descendants to London on accountof the great demand for Jazz-band players was largely responsible forhastening her end. *** According to a local paper an American officer refused to stay ata seaside hotel during Easter-time because a flea hopped on to thevisitors' book whilst he was in the act of signing it. We agree thatit is certainly rather alarming when these unwelcome intruders adoptsuch methods of espionage in order to discover which room one is aboutto occupy. *** The Society of Public Analysts declares that it is impossible to tellwhat animal or what part of it is contained in a sausage. We gatherthat it all depends on whether the beast is backed into the machine orenticed into it with a sardine. *** The British people still feel themselves the victors, so Mr. RAMSAYMACDONALD told the _Vossische Zeitung_. Not Mr. MACDONALD'S fault, ofcourse. *** London butchers have protested against being compelled to sellChilian, Brazilian, Manchurian _and other_ beef. A simple way todistinguish "other beef" from Manchurian beef is to offer it to thecat. If it eats it, it is neither. *** The Board of Agriculture claims that since 1914 eleven thousandpersons have been taught to make cheese. It is admitted, however, thatas the result of inexperience the mortality among young cheeses hasbeen enormous. *** The Labour Party are submitting a Motion in the House of Commonsfor the reduction of railway fares. An alternative suggestion thatpassengers should be allowed to pay the extra shilling or two and buythe train outright will probably be put forward. *** The sum of £15, 650 has just been paid for the lease of a West Endflat, says a contemporary. If this includes use of the bath, it seemsa bit of a bargain. *** We gather from an American newspaper that shooting for the new MexicanPresidency has commenced. *** An East End fishmonger is reported to have sold fish at one penny apound. The controlled price being much higher, several trade rivalshave offered to bear the expense of a doctor for this man as they feelthat something may be pressing on his brain. *** A Berlin message indicates that the man who shot KURT EISNER has againbeen assassinated by the Spartacists. This, of course, cannot be theend of the business. The last and positively final execution of theman still rests with the German Government. *** There has never been a case of rabies in Scotland, says _The EveningNews_. This speaks well for the bagpipes as a defensive weapon. *** According to a Boston message some Americans gave Admiral WOOD, U. S. Navy, a very cool reception the other day. In shaking hands with himthey only broke seven small bones. *** We are pleased to be able to say that the recently demobilisedsoldier who accidentally swallowed some "plum and apple" in a Londonrestaurant is well on the road to recovery. *** The number of hot-cross-bun specialists who, since Easter, havebeen in receipt of unemployment pay has not yet been disclosed forpublication. *** A dog has returned to its home at Walsworth after being absent for twomonths. It is feared that he has been leading a double life. *** "Throughout the country, " says a well-known daily paper, "thehedges and trees are now budding forth into green leaves. " This, weunderstand, is according to precedent. *** "Is your rent raised?" asks a contemporary. With difficulty, if he_must_ know. *** Newcastle Justices have extinguished eight licences for redundancy. There is no reason for supposing that the offence was intentional. *** The report that the prehistoric flint axe recently found at Ascot hadbeen claimed by Sir FREDERICK BANBURY, M. P. , is denied. Sir FREDERICK, it appears, merely expressed warm approval of it. *** The Manchester Parks Committee is considering the question of openingthe Municipal Golf Links for Sunday play. It is contended that themore anti-Sabbatarian features of the game could be eliminated byallowing players to pick out of a bunker without penalty. *** Much advice has recently appeared in the Press regarding the treatmentof bites received from mad dogs, and in consequence there is amovement on foot among Missionaries to obtain some informationregarding the best method of treating the bite of a cannibal. *** A Chicago woman has been charged with attempting to shoot her husbandwith a jewelled and gold-handled revolver. We are pleased to note thatthe American authorities are determined to put down such ostentation. *** It has come to our ears that a certain Conscientious Objector nowfeels so ashamed of his refusal to fight that he has practicallydecided to take boxing lessons by post. * * * * * [Illustration: "WHAT'S THAT THING YOU'VE GOT ON, ALBERT?" "TRENCH COAT. " "BUT YOU'VE NEVER BEEN IN THE TRENCHES. " "I KNOW. THAT'S THE IDEA. "] * * * * * LETTERS TO PEOPLE I DON'T KNOW. _(No answers required, thank you. )_ _To Count Brockdorff-Rantzau, Head of the German Peace Delegation. _ The enthralling volume, entitled _Preliminary Terms of Peace_, onwhich your attention is being engrossed at the present moment, is saidto be of the same length as _A Tale of Two Cities_. In other respectsthere is little resemblance traceable between the two works. A morestriking likeness is to be found between the present volume and adocument produced (also in the neighbourhood of Paris) by the latePrince BISMARCK in 1871. On your return home, if the fancy appealsto you, you might, out of these two publications, construct a veryreadable romance and call it _Two Tales of One City_. I think thiswould be a better name for it than _Vice-Versailles. _ _To Signor Orlando_. Apart from our love for Italy we are, of course, naturallyprejudiced in favour of a man who got his surname from one of ourown SHAKSPEARE'S heroes, and has consequently given us several easychances of making little _As-you-like-it_ jokes for the Press in oursimple unsophisticated way. All the same I think you were wrong indropping out of the Big Four like that. If every other Allied delegatewere to go off home whenever he couldn't get his own way, or wheneverhe differed from President WILSON, there might be nobody left to meetthe German representatives or to sign any sort of Peace terms. Theenemy might even start a Big Four of their own and begin to talk. Whatshould we do then? We might have to send for Marshal FOCH. I'm notsure that in any case this wouldn't be the best plan. But perhaps you will be back in Paris before this letter reaches you. All roads lead to Rome, and there must be at least one that leads outof it again. _To Ferdinand, Fox_. If news of the outside world ever reaches you in your earth, and youread the discussions on the question whether your old friend WILLIAMought to be hanged, it can hardly have escaped Your Nosiness thatnothing is said about your own claim to similar treatment. Those whonever rightly appreciated you may imagine that you will meeklyconsent to forgo that claim. But, if I know anything of your proud andprincely nature, you are, on the other hand, bitterly chagrined at thethought that you have been forgotten so soon. _To a British "Sportsman_. " I have often seen you of an afternoon in war-time hanging about ingroups along my workaday street, poring over what you regarded as thevital news of the day. It was not a report of any battle in which yourbrothers were fighting, and, if I had asked you breathlessly, "Whowon?" you would not have said, "The British"; you would have said, "SOLLY JOEL'S colt. " You had never seen the horse, but you hadhalf-a-dollar of your War-bonus on him, or more probably on one ofthose who also ran. To-day there are no silly battles to take upgood space in your evening print; and, better still, there is no daywithout its racing matter; no more curtailing of the King of Sports tothe lamentable detriment of our national horse-breeding, a subject soclose to your heart. The War is indeed well over. And nothing can be more gratifying to you than to note the rapidprogress of Reconstruction in the domain of the Turf. In other spheresof activity there may be a million people drawing the unemploymentdonation; but here there is immediate occupation for all. The NewJerusalem has been built in a day. _To Peace_. You must not mind if, when you come at last, we treat you like ananti-climax. You see, we let ourselves go, once for all, over theArmistice, and, though there will be plenty of celebrations for you, we shan't forget ourselves again. There will be bands, of course, and bunting, and we shall read the directions in the papers, andbuy expensive tickets and get to our seats early. But we shall berespectable and inarticulate this time, like the present exhibition atthe Royal Academy. Besides, we have no nice things to shout when thepageants go by, like "_Vive la Victoire_!" or "_Viva la Pace!_" andeven if we had we should all wait for somebody else to start shoutingthem. But you are not to be disappointed; we shall really be glad to welcomeyou, though we do it in that strange way we have of taking everythingas it comes. I suppose you are bound to assist at your own celebrations, otherwiseI should recommend you to be content to read about them nextday--about the thundering cheers, the wild enthusiasm that swept likea flame through the vast multitudes, and how "the red glare on Skiddawroused the Canon (RAWNSLEY) of Carlisle. " _To a Multi-Millionaire. _ It must be a great satisfaction to you to see how highly theCHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER appreciates the loss which the countrywill sustain by your eventual decease; and that he has proposed toincrease materially the amount to be raised out of your estate asa national souvenir of your commercial activities. Indeed you mayreflect that, splendid and profitable as your life has been, nothingin it will have become you so much as the leaving of it. With such athought in your mind the prospect of death should be robbed of a largeproportion of its sting. _To a New Knight (Scots). _ Out of the eight hundred million pounds' worth of Government materialleft over from the War, of which two hundred million pounds' worthis expected to be realised in the current year, you should have nodifficulty in securing a pair of knightly spurs at quite a reasonableprice. They ought to go well with a kilt. _To the Chairman of the "Société des Bains de Mer de Monaco_. " Few people can have been better pleased than you at the cessation ofhostilities. During all those terrible years the falling-off among thepatrons of your world-famous bathing-establishment must have been asource of cruel grief to you. And now there are already myriads whohave washed away the stains of war in the pellucid waves that lap yourcoast of azure. Here, too, at your hospitable Board of Green Cloth there isforgetfulness of Armageddon save when the cry of "Zéro" recalls to theconvalescent British warrior the fateful hour for going over the top. And to think of Monte Carlo without the guttural Hun and his raucous"_Dass ist mein_" as he swoops upon his disputed spoils! An Eden withthe worm away! _À bientôt_! O. S. * * * * * "PUBLIC SCHOOLS' HIGH JUMP CHALLENGE CUP. --E. C. Archer (Merchant Taylors'), 5 ft. 4 in. (unfinished), 1. "--_The Times_. We are glad to have later advices which state that he has returned toearth safely. * * * * * "Alabaster Lady's Evening Cigarette Case, lid and hinges set with diamonds; left in taxi. "--_Advt. In "The Times. "_ We trust the alabaster lady has by now regained her property and withit her marmoreal calm. * * * * * [Illustration: IMPERIAL PREFERENCE. ] * * * * * [Illustration: "THEY 'ALSO RUN' WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT. "] * * * * * THE ARRIVAL OF BLACKMAN'S WARBLER. I am become an Authority on Birds. It happened in this way. The other day we heard the Cuckoo in Hampshire. (The next morningthe papers announced that the Cuckoo had been heard inDevonshire--possibly a different one, but in no way superior to oursexcept in the matter of its Press agent. ) Well, everybody in the housesaid, "Did you hear the Cuckoo?" to everybody else, until I began toget rather tired of it; and, having told everybody several times thatI _had_ heard it, I tried to make the conversation more interesting. So, after my tenth "Yes, " I added quite casually:-- "But I haven't heard the Tufted Pipit yet. It's funny why it should beso late this year. " "Is that the same as the Tree Pipit?" said my hostess, who seemed toknow more about birds than I had hoped. "Oh, no, " I said confidently. "What's the difference exactly?" "Well, one is tufted, " I said, doing my best, "and theother--er--climbs trees. " "Oh, I see. " "And of course the eggs are more speckled, " I added, graduallyacquiring confidence. "I often wish I knew more about birds, " she said regretfully. "Youmust tell us something about them now we've got you here. " And all this because of one miserable Cuckoo! "By all means, " I said, wondering how long it would take to get a bookabout birds down from London. However, it was easier than I thought. We had tea in the garden thatafternoon, and a bird of some kind struck up in the plane-tree. "There, now, " said my hostess, "what's that?" I listened with my head on one side. The bird said it again. "That's the Lesser Bunting, " I said hopefully. "The Lesser Bunting, " said an earnest-looking girl; "I shall alwaysremember that. " I hoped she wouldn't, but I could hardly say so. Fortunately thebird lesser-bunted again, and I seized the opportunity of playing forsafety. "Or is it the Sardinian White-throat?" I wondered. "They have verymuch the same note during the breeding season. But of course the eggsare more speckled, " I added casually. And so on for the rest of the evening. You see how easy it is. However the next afternoon a most unfortunate occurrence occurred. Areal Bird Authority came to tea. As soon as the information leaked outI sent up a hasty prayer for bird-silence until we had got him safelyout of the place; but it was not granted. Our feathered songster inthe plane-tree broke into his little piece. "There, " said my hostess--"there's that bird again. " She turned to me. "What did you say it was?" I hoped that the Authority would speak first, and that the otherswould then accept my assurance that they had misunderstood me the daybefore; but he was entangled at that moment in a watercress sandwich, the loose ends of which were still waiting to be tucked away. I looked anxiously at the girl who had promised to remember, in caseshe wanted to say something, but she also was silent. Everybody wassilent except that miserable bird. Well, I had to have another go at it. "Blackman's Warbler, " I saidfirmly. "Oh, yes, " said my hostess. "Blackman's Warbler; I shall always remember that, " lied theearnest-looking girl. The Authority, who was free by this time, looked at me indignantly. "Nonsense, " he said; "it's the Chiff-chaff. " Everybody else looked at me reproachfully. I was about to say that"Blackman's Warbler" was the local name for the Chiff-chaff in our partof Flint, when the Authority spoke again. "The Chiff-chaff, " he said to our hostess with an insufferable air ofknowledge. I wasn't going to stand that. "So _I_ thought when I heard it first, " I said, giving him a gentlesmile. It was now the Authority's turn to get the reproachful looks. "Are they very much alike?" my hostess asked me, much impressed. "Very much. Blackman's Warbler is often mistaken for the Chiff-chaff, even by so-called experts"--and I turned to the Authority and added, "Have another sandwich, won't you?"--"and particularly so, ofcourse, during the breeding season. It is true that the eggs are morespeckled, but--" "Bless my soul, " said the Authority, but it was easy to see that hewas shaken, "I should think I know a Chiff-chaff when I hear one. " "Ah, but do you know a Blackman's Warbler? One doesn't often hear themin this country. Now in Switzerland--" The bird said "Chiff-chaff" again with an almost indecent plainness ofspeech. "There you are!" I said triumphantly. "Listen, " and I held up afinger. "You notice the difference? _Obviously_ a Blackman's Warbler. " Everybody looked at the Authority. He was wondering how long it wouldtake to get a book about birds down from London, and deciding thatit couldn't be done that afternoon. Meanwhile "Blackman's Warbler"sounded too much like the name of something to be repudiated. For allhe had caught of our mumbled introduction I might have been Blackmanmyself. "Possibly you're right, " he said reluctantly. Another bird said "Chiff-chaff" from another tree, and I thought itwise to be generous. "There, " I said, "now that _was_ a Chiff-chaff. " The earnest-looking girl remarked (silly creature) that it soundedjust like the other one, but nobody took any notice of her. They wereall busy admiring me. Of course I mustn't meet the Authority again, because you may bepretty sure that when he got back to his books he looked up Blackman'sWarbler and found that there was no such animal. But if you mix in theright society and only see the wrong people once it is really quiteeasy to be an authority on birds--or, I imagine, on anything else. A. A. M. * * * * * [Illustration: _The Woman_. "JAZZ STOCKINGS ARE THE LATEST THING, DEAR. HERE'S A PICTURE OF A GIRL WITH THEM ON. " _The Man_. "WHAT APPALLING ROT! ER--AFTER YOU WITH THE PAPER. "] * * * * * "HONOURS. " (_BY A CYNIC_. ) A DUKEDOM, GRAND OR OTHERWISE, NO LONGER IS AN ENVIED PRIZE WHEN EVERY DAY SOME FIERCE COMMISSION CLAMOURS FOR DUCAL INHIBITION. THE STYLE OF MARQUESS--THUSWISE SPELT-- IS PICTURESQUE, BUT, LIKE THE BELT OF EARLDOM, CANNOT LONG ABIDE OR STEM THE DEMOCRATIC TIDE. VISCOUNTIES STAND TO CHEER AND BLESS THE LABOURS OF THE PURPLE PRESS, AND BARONIES, ONCE HELD BY ROBBERS, ARE GIVEN TO PATRIOTIC JOBBERS. UNCOMPROMISING MALEDICTION RESTS ON THE BARONETS OF FICTION; IN ACTUAL LIFE THEY SERVE TO LINK A PARTY WITH THE STREET OF INK; WHILE KNIGHTHOOD'S LATEST HONOURS FALL UPON THE FUNNIEST MEN OF ALL. YES, WHILE OUR GRATITUDE ACCLAIMS THE JUSTLY DECORATED NAMES OF PEERS LIKE TENNYSON AND LISTER, THERE IS MUCH VIRTUE IN PLAIN MISTER. THE STYLE AND TITLE DEEMED MOST FIT BY DARWIN, HUXLEY, BURKE AND PITT, AND LATER ON BY A. J. B. , ARE MORE THAN GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. * * * * * [ILLUSTRATION ECHO OF "SHOW SUNDAY. " _VISITOR_. "WHAT'S THIS FELLOW DOIN' IN THE CORNER?" _ARTIST_. "OH, HE'S THERE JUST TO HELP THE COMPOSITION. " _VISITOR_. "AWFULLY DECENT OF HIM--WHAT!"] THE DOMESTIC QUESTION SOLVED. LAST THURSDAY, AT A REGISTRY-OFFICE, I OBTAINED THE FAVOUR OF ANINTERVIEW WITH A DOMESTIC ARTIST AND WAS ABLE (BY REASON OF A PREVIOUSCONFERENCE WITH MY FRIEND FRESHFIELD--LIKE MYSELF A DEMOBILISEDBACHELOR AUTHOR) TO FACE THE ORDEAL WITH SOME DEGREE OF CONFIDENCE. MRS. MILTON, WIDOW, FIFTY-FIVE, EXCEPTIONAL REFERENCES, WHO PROPOSED, IF EVERYTHING ABOUT ME SEEMED SATISFACTORY, TO RULE MY HOUSEHOLD, WAS AS SUAVE AS ONE HAS ANY RIGHT TO EXPECT NOWADAYS; BUT WHEN SHEDICTATED THE TERMS I GATHERED THAT SHE WOULD BE SUFFICIENTLY DANGEROUSIF ROUSED. SHE KNEW WHAT BACHELORS WERE, SHE DID, AND WASN'T GOING TO TAKE APLACE WHERE A LOT OF COMP'NY WAS KEPT. I ASSURED HER ON THIS POINT. MY FRIEND, MR. FRESHFIELD, I SAID, WOULDCOME ONCE A WEEK, EVERY MONDAY, TO DINE AND SLEEP, BUT BEYOND THAT ISHOULD PUT NO STRAIN UPON HER POWERS OF ENTERTAINMENT. MRS. MILTON FURTHER SAID THAT SHE WOULD REQUIRE AT LEAST TWOAFTERNOONS AND ONE EVENING A WEEK. HERE WAS MY OPPORTUNITY TO APPEARGENEROUS. "TWO AFTERNOONS AND ONE EVENING?" I SAID. "MY DEAR FRIEND ANDFELLOW-WORKER, YOU CAN HAVE EVERY WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY FROM AFTERBREAKFAST ON THE FORMER TO PRACTICALLY DINNER-TIME (EIGHT O'CLOCK)ON THE LATTER. NO QUESTIONS WILL BE ASKED OF YOU OR OF THE PIANO ORGRAMOPHONE, BOTH OF WHICH INSTRUMENTS YOU WILL FIND IN SMOOTH RUNNINGORDER. I AM AWAY, " I ADDED, "EVERY WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY. " THAT CLINCHED IT. HIDING HER SURPRISE AS WELL AS SHE COULD UNDER ANIRREPROACHABLE BONNET AND TOUPEE, MRS. MILTON EXPRESSED HER READINESSTO ACCOMPANY ME THEN AND THERE, AND TO SUPERINTEND THE DISAPPEARANCEOF MY COALS AND MARMALADE. PERHAPS YOU HAVE GUESSED THAT I PROPOSE TO SPEND EVERY WEDNESDAY NIGHTAT FRESHFIELD'S PLACE, AND THAT THE COMPLETE SUCCESS OF THE SCHEME HASBEEN ASSURED BY THE MAKING OF A SIMILAR AGREEMENT BETWEEN FRESHFIELDAND A PERSON HOLDING CORRESPONDING VIEWS TO THOSE OF MRS. MILTON. THUS FRESHFIELD AND I HAVE EACH SECURED THE FULL SEVEN DAYS'ATTENDANCE BY A DEVICE PLEASING TO ALL CONCERNED. AFTER LOCKING UPTHE MELBA AND GEORGE ROBEY RECORDS ON WEDNESDAY MORNINGS AND WITHTHE KNOWLEDGE THAT THE PIANO IS PAST SERIOUS INJURY, I DEPART FORFRESHFIELD'S (_VIÂ_ THE CLUB FOR LUNCH) EACH WEEK WITH A LIGHT HEART. MY COLLABORATOR IS ALL FOR KEEPING THIS SOLUTION OF A HARASSINGPROBLEM TO OURSELVES. I SAY "NO. " THE GENERAL ADOPTION OF SUCH ASCHEME, WITH ALTERATIONS TO SUIT INDIVIDUAL CASES, WOULD, I THINK, BEA NAIL IN THE COFFIN OF BOLSHEVISM IN THE HOME. * * * * * MR. WILSON RUBS IT IN. "THE _ECHO DE PARIS_ SAYS, 'MR. WILSON BELIEVES HE CAN PLAY THE RÔLE OF THE POPES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. IN THE ÉCLAT OF HIS PUBLIC MESSAGES HE TRIES TO SET PEOPLES AGAINST GOVERNMENTS. '"--_SCOTS PAPER_. * * * * * "GENERAL MONASH MAKING AN IMPOSING FIGURE ON HIS GREY HORSE, WHERE HE RODE WITH GENERAL HOBBS AND THREE BRIGADIERS. "--_TIMES_. THE R. S. P. C. A. MUST LOOK INTO THIS. * * * * * "GOLF BATTLE OF THE SEXES. THE LATEST JACK JOHNSON STORY IS THAT HE IS TRAINING IN MEXICO CITY FOR A SERIES OF FIGHTS, WHICH WILL TAKE PLACE IN THE BULL-RING. LADIES: MISS CECIL LEITCH, MISS CHUBB, MISS BARRY, MRS. MCNAIR, MRS. JILLARD, MRS. F. W. BROWN, MISS JONES PARKER AND MRS. WILLOCK POLLEN. "--_DAILY SKETCH_. WE ARE RATHER SORRY FOR MASSA JOHNSON. * * * * * [ILLUSTRATION: _BORED CADET (IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY). _ "LET'S SHOVE OFFNOW, MATER. HATE HANGIN' ROUND A PLACE WHERE ONE MIGHT BE BURIED SOMEDAY!"] * * * * * THE CHURCH AND PEACE. The acquiescence of the Coventry Peace Celebration Committee in theBishop of COVENTRY'S view that the Lady GODIVA of their pageantshould be fully clothed is leading not only to many innovations inthe representations of history all over the country, but to arecrudescence of ecclesiastical power which is affording the liveliestsatisfaction to Lord HUGH CECIL. For already several other divines have followed suit. It is agreeable, for example, to the very reasonable wishes of the DEAN and Chapterof Westminster that the Westminster Peace Celebration Committee havedecided that NELL GWYNN shall either be excluded from the Whitehallprocession altogether or shall figure as a Mildmay deaconess. Acting under the influence of a local curate, the Athelney PeaceCelebration Committee have unanimously resolved that in these hardtimes, when (as the curate pointed out) food is not too plentiful, itwould be better if KING ALFRED cooked the cakes properly and they wereafterwards distributed. So many watering-places claim CANUTE as their own that he may beexpected to be multiplied exceedingly in the approaching Peace revels;but from more than one Pastoral Letter it may be gathered that theEpiscopal Bench is very wisely in favour of the King's retirement fromthe margin of the ocean before his shoes are actually wet. It is heldthat in these days of leather-shortage and the need for economy norisks should be run with footwear. Other laudable efforts in the direction of economy are to be made, again through the earnest solicitude of the Establishment, inconnection with the impersonation of Sir WALTER RALEIGH and KING JOHN. With the purpose of saving Sir WALTER'S cloak from stain and possibleinjury the puddle at QUEEN ELIZABETH'S feet will be only a paintedone, while, owing to the exorbitant price of laundry-work at themoment, it has been arranged that only a few of KING JOHN'S morenegligible articles shall be consigned to the Wash. * * * * * HUN DUPLICITY IN PARIS. "Count von Brockdorff-Rantzau replied simply, pointing to Herr Dandsbery and saying: 'I present to you Herr Landsberg. '"--_The Star_. * * * * * HOME FATIGUES. How oft I tried by smart intrigue To do the British Army, And dodge each rightly-termed Fatigue Which nearly drove me barmy. In vain! Whoever else they missed My name was always on the list. And so, while other minds were set On smashing Jerry Bosch up With rifle, bomb and bayonet, I chiefly learned to wash-up, To peel potatoes by the score, Sweep out a room and scrub the floor. Thus, now that I have left the ranks, The plain unvarnished fact is That through those three rough years, and thanks To very frequent practice, I, who was once a nascent snob, Am master of the menial's job. To-day I count this no disgrace When "maids" have gone to blazes, But take our late Eliza's place And win my lady's praises, As she declares in grateful mood The Army did me worlds of good. * * * * * THE MUD LARKS. "So, " said Albert Edward, "I clapped him on the back and said, 'Youwere at Geelong College in 1910, and your name's Cazenove, isn't it?'" "To which he made reply, 'My name's Jones and I never heard ofGeewhizz, ' and knocked you down and trod on you for your dashedfamiliarity, " said the Babe. "Nothing of the sort. He was delighted to meet me again--de-lighted. He's coming to munch with us tomorrow evening, by the way, so youmight sport the tablecloth for once, William old dear, and tell thecook to put it across Og, the fatted capon, and generally strive tolive down your reputation as the worst Mess President the world hasever seen. You will, I know--for my sake. " Next morning, when I came down to breakfast, I found a note from himsaying that he had gone to the Divisional Races with his dear oldcollege chum, Cazenove; also the following addenda:-- "P. S. --If William should miss a few francs from the Mess Fund tell himI will return it fourfold ere night. I am on to a sure thing. "P. P. S. --If MacTavish should raise a howl about his fawn leggings, tell him I have borrowed them for the day as I understand there willbe V. A. D. 's present, and _noblesse oblige_. " At a quarter past eight that night he returned, accompanied by apleasant-looking gunner subaltern, whom we gathered to be the Cazenoveperson. I say "gathered, " for Albert Edward did not trouble tointroduce the friend of his youth, but, flinging himself into a chair, attacked his food in a sulky silence which endured all through therepast. Mr. Cazenove, on the other hand, was in excellent form. He hadspent a beautiful day, he said, and didn't care who knew it. A judgeof horseflesh from the cradle, he had spotted the winner every time, backed his fancy like a little man and had been very generouslyrewarded by the Totalizator. He was contemplating a trip to Brusselsin a day or so. Was his dear old friend Albert Edward coming? His "dear old friend" (who was eating his thumb-nails instead of hissavoury) scowled and said he thought not. The gunner wagged his head sagely. "Ah, well, old chap, if youwill bet on horses which roar like a den of lions you must take theconsequences. " Albert Edward writhed. "That animal used to win sprints in England; doyou know that?" Mr. Cazenove shrugged his shoulders. "He may have thirty years ago. All I'd back him to win now would be anold-age pension. Well, I warned you, didn't I?" Albert Edward lost control. "When I'm reduced to taking advice onracing form from a Tasmanian I'll chuck the game and hie me to amonkery. Why, look at that bit of bric-à-brac you were riding to-day;a decent God-fearing Australian wouldn't be seen dead in a ten-acrepaddock with it. " Mr. Cazenove spluttered even more furiously. "That's a dashed goodhorse I'll have you know. " "I am not alluding to his morals, but to his appearance, " said AlbertEdward; "I've seen better-looking hat-racks. " "I'd back him to lick the stuffing out of anything you've got in thisunit, anyway, " Cazenove snorted. "Don't be rash, Charlie, " Albert Edward warned; "your lucky afternoonhas gone to your head. Why, I've got an old mule here could give thatboneshaker two stone and beat him by a furlong in five. " The gunner sprang to his feet. "Done with you!" he roared. "Done withyou here and now!" Albert Edward appeared to be somewhat taken back. "Don't be silly, man, " he soothed. "It's pitch dark outside and cut up with trenches. Sit down and have some more of this rare old port, specially concoctedfor us by the E. F. C. " But Mr. Cazenove was thoroughly aroused. "You're hedging, " he sneered;"you're scared. " "Nonsense, " said Albert Edward. "I have never known what fear is--notsince the Armistice, anyhow. I am one of the bravest men I have evermet. What are you doing with all that money?" "Putting it down for you to cover, " said Cazenove firmly. Albert Edward sighed. "All right, then, if you will have it so. William, old bean, I'm afraid I shall have to trouble you for a triflemore out of the Mess Fund. _Noblesse oblige_, you know. " MacTavish and the Babe departed with the quest to prepare his mountfor the ordeal, while Albert Edward and I sought out Ferdinand andIsabella, our water-cart pair. Isabella was fast asleep, curledup like a cat and purring pleasantly, but Ferdinand was awake, meditatively gnawing through the wood-work of his stall. With theassistance of the line-guard we saddled and bridled him; but at thestable door he dug his toes in. It was long past his racing hours, hegave us to understand, and his union wouldn't permit it. He backedall round the standings, treading on recumbent horses, trippingover bails, knocking uprights flat and bringing acres of tin roofingclattering down upon our heads, Isabella encouraging him with ringingfanfares of applause. At length we roused out the grooms and practically carried him to thestarting-point. "You've been the devil of a time, " William grumbled. "Cazenove's beenwaiting for twenty minutes. See that light over there? That's whereMacTavish is. He's the winning-post. Keep straight down the mud-tracktowards it and you'll be all right. Don't swing sideways or you'll getbunkered. Form line. Come up the mule. Back, Cazenove, back! Steady. Go!" The rivals clapped heels to their steeds and were swallowed up inthe night. I looked at my watch, the hands pointed to 10. 30 exactly. William and I lit cigarettes and waited. At 10. 42 MacTavish walkedinto us, his lamp had given out and he wanted a new battery. "Who won?" we inquired. "Won?" he asked. "They haven't started yet, have they?" "Left here about ten minutes ago, " said William. "Do you mean to sayyou've seen nothing of them?" At that moment two loud voices, accompanied by the splash of liquidand the crash of tin, struck our ears from different points of thecompass. "Sounds to me as if somebody had found a watery grave over to theleft, " said the Babe. "Sounds to me as if somebody had returned to stables over to theright, " said I. We trotted away to investigate. 'Twas as I thought; Ferdinand hadhomed to his Isabella and was backing round the standings once more, trailing the infuriated Albert Edward after him, sheets of corrugatediron falling about them like leaves in Vallombrosa. "Bolted straight in here and scraped me off against the roof, " pantedthe latter. "Suppose the confounded apple-fancier won ages ago, didn'the?" "He's upside down in the Tuning Fork trench system at the presentmoment, " said I. "The Babe and the grooms are digging him out. If youhurry up you'll win yet. " We roused out the guard, bore the reluctant Ferdinand back to thecourse and by eleven o'clock had restarted him. At 11. 10 Williamreturned to report that the digging party had salved the Cazenove pairand got them going again. "Too late, " said I; "Albert Edward must have won in a walk by now. Heleft here at... " The resounding clatter of falling sheet-iron cut short my words. Ferdinand had, it appeared, returned to stables once more. Suddenly something hurtled out of the gloom and crashed into us. Itwas the Babe. "What's the matter now? Where are you going?" we asked. "Wire-cutters, quick!" he gasped and hurtled onwards towards thesaddle-room. "Hello there!" came the hail of MacTavish from up the course. "Is-say, what about this blessed race? I'm f-f-rozen s-s-tiff out here. I'm about f-f-fed up, I t-tell you. " William groaned. "As if we all weren't!" he protested. "If all theMess Funds for the next three weeks weren't involved I'd make thesilly fools chuck it. Here, you, run and tell Albert Edward to get amove on. " I found Ferdinand rapidly levelling the remainder of the standings, playing his jockey at the end of his reins as a fisherman plays asalmon. "This cursed donkey won't steer at all, " Albert Edward growled. "Sideslips all over the place like a wet tyre. Has Cazenove won yet?" "Not yet, " said I. "He's wound up in the Switch Line wireentanglements now. The Babe and the wrecking gang are busy choppinghim out. There's still time. " "Then drag Isabella out in front of this brute, " said he. "Quick, man, quick!" At 11. 43, by means of a brimming nose-bag, I had enticed Isabellaforth, and the procession started in the following order: First, myself, dragging Isabella and dangling the bait. Secondly, Isabella. Thirdly, the racers, Ferdinand and Albert Edward, the latterbelting Isabella with a surcingle whenever she faltered. Lastly, theline-guard, speeding Ferdinand with a doubled stirrup-leather. Wetoiled down the mud. Track at an average velocity of . 25 m. P. H. , halting occasionally for Isabella to feed and the line-guard to resthis arm. I have seen faster things in my day. Then, just as we were arriving at our journey's end we collidedwith another procession. It was the wrecking gang, laden with theimplements of their trade (shovels, picks, wire-cutters, ropes, planks, waggon-jacks, etc. ), and escorting in their midst Mr. Cazenoveand his battered racehorse. Both competitors immediately claimed thevictory:-- "Beaten you this time, Albert Edward, old man. "... "On the contrary, Charles, old chap, I won hands down. "... "But, my good fellow, I'vebeen here for hours. "... "My dear old thing, I've been here _allnight_!"... "Do be reasonable. "... "Don't be absurd. " "Oh, dry up, you two, and leave it to the winning-post to decide, "said William. "By the way, where is the winning-post?" "The winning-post, " we echoed. "Yes, where is he?" "Begging your pardon, Sir, " came the voice of the Mess orderly, "but if you was referring to Mister MacTavish he went home to bedhalf-an-hour ago. " PATLANDER. * * * * * [Illustration: _Potential President of the Royal Academy. _ "AND HERE, AUNTIE, WE GET THE SIDE ELEVATION. " _Auntie. _ "HOW DELIGHTFULLY THOROUGH! I'D NO IDEA THAT ARCHITECTS DIDTHE SIDES AS WELL. "] * * * * * ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY. "A sub-department of Scotland Yard ... Which looks after Kings and visiting potentates, Cabinet Ministers and Suffragettes, spies, anarchists, and other 'undesirables. '"--_Daily Paper. _ * * * * * "The custodian smothered the ball, and after a Ruby scrimmage the City goal escaped. "--_Provincial Paper. _A much prettier word than the other. * * * * * "Teacher (juniors); £1 monthly. "--_Advt. In Liverpool Paper. _ Who says there are no prizes in the teaching profession? * * * * * [Illustration: OUR ARTIST GIVES HIS MODEL AN IDEA OF THE GRACE ANDBEAUTY OF THE POSE HE REQUIRES OF HER. ] REVANCHE. When I had seen ten thousand pass me by And waved my arms and wearied of hallooing, "Ho, taxi-meter! Taxi-meter, hi!" And they hied on and there was nothing doing; When I was sick of counting dud by dud Bearing I know not whom--or coarse carousers, Or damsels fairer than the moss-rose bud-- And still more sick at having bits of mud Daubed on my new dress-trousers; I went to dinner by the Underground And every time the carriage stopped or started Clung to my neighbour very tightly round The neck till at Sloane Square his collar parted. I saw my hostess glancing at my socks, Surprised perhaps at so much clay's adherence And, still unnerved by those infernal shocks, Said, "I was working in my window-box; Excuse my soiled appearance. " But in the morn I found a silent square And one tall house with all the windows shuttered, The mansion of the Marquis of Mayfair, And "Here shall be the counter-stroke, " I muttered; "Shall not the noble Marquis and his kin Make feast to-night in his superb refectory, And then go on to see 'The Purple Sin'? They shall. " I sought a taxi-garage in The Telephone Directory. "Ho, there!" I cried within the wooden hutch; "Hammersmith House--a most absurd dilemma-- His lordship's motor-cars have strained a clutch, And taxis are required at 8 pip emma (Six of your finest and most up-to-date, With no false starts and no foul petrol leaking), To bear a certain party of the great To the Melpomene at ten past eight. Thompson, the butler, speaking. " They came. And I at the appointed hour Watched them arrive before the muted dwelling And heard some speeches full of pith and power And saw them turn and go with anger swelling; Save only one who, spite his rude dismay, Like a whipped Hun, made traffic of his sorrow And shouted, "Taxi, Sir?" I answered "Nay, I do not need you, jarvey, but I may Be disengaged to-morrow. " EVOE. * * * * * THE PUNISHMENT OF GREED. "Large quantity of new Block Chocolate offered cheap; cause ill-health. "--_Manchester Evening News. _ * * * * * "Miss M. Albanesi, daughter of the well-known singer, Mme. Albanesi. "--_Daily Paper. _ Not to be confused with Mme. ALBANI, the popular novelist. * * * * * "The Portuguese retreated a step. His head flew to his hip-pocket. But he was a fraction of a second too late. "--_The Scout. _ Many a slip 'twixt the head and the hip. * * * * * [Illustration: GHOSTS AT VERSAILLES. ] * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. _Tuesday, April 29th. _--When the House of Commons re-assembled thisafternoon a good many gaps were noticeable on the green benches. Theywere not due, however, to the New Year's Honours, which made a belatedappearance this morning, for not a single Member of Parliament hasbeen ennobled. The notion that not one of the seven hundred is worthyof elevation is, of course, unthinkable. But by-elections are sochancy. Mr. JEREMIAH MACVEAGH still has some difficulty in realising that theIrish centre of gravity has shifted from Westminster to Dublin. Heindignantly refused to accept an answer to one of his questions fromlittle Mr. PRATT, and loudly demanded the corporeal presence of theCHIEF SECRETARY. Mr. MACPHERSON, however, considers that his dutyrequires him to remain in Ireland, where Mr. MACVEAGH'S seventy SinnFein colleagues are keeping him sufficiently busy. In explaining the swollen estimates of the Ministry of Labour, SirROBERT HORNE pointed out that it is now charged with the functionsformerly appertaining to half-a-dozen other Departments. He has indeedbecome a sort of administrative _Pooh-Bah_. Unlike that functionary, however, he was not "born sneering. " On the contrary, he made a mostsympathetic speech, chiefly devoted to justifying the much-abusedunemployment donation, which accounts for twenty-five out of thethirty-eight millions to be spent by his Department this year. But letno one mistake him for a mere HORNE of Plenty, pouring out benefitsindiscriminately upon the genuine unemployed and the work-shy. He hasalready deprived some seventeen thousand potential domestics of theirunearned increment, and he promises ruthless prosecution of all whotry to cheat the State in future. Criticism was largely silenced by the Minister's frankness. Sir F. BANBURY, of course, was dead against the whole policy, anddemanded the immediate withdrawal of the civilian grants; but hisuncompromising attitude found little favour. Mr. CLYNES thought itwould have been better for the State to furnish work instead of doles, but did not explain how in that case private enterprise was to getgoing. France's experience with the _ateliers nationaux_ is notencouraging, though 1919, when "demobbed" subalterns turn up theirnoses at £250 a year, is not 1848. _Wednesday, April 30th. _--Mr. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN, returning to theExchequer after an interval of thirteen years, made a much betterBudget speech than one would have expected. It was longer, perhaps, than was absolutely necessary. Like the late Mr. GLADSTONE, he has atendency to digress into financial backwaters instead of sticking tothe main Pactolian stream. His excursus upon the impracticability ofa levy on capital was really redundant, though it pleased themillionaires and reconciled them to the screwing-up of thedeath-duties. Still, on the whole, he had a more flattering tale tounfold than most of us had ventured to anticipate, and he told itwell, in spite of an occasional confusion in his figures. After all, it must be hard for a Chancellor who left the national expenditureat a hundred and fifty millions and comes back to find it multipliedtenfold not to mistake millions for thousands now and again. [Illustration: _Budget Victims. _ "YOU MAY HAVE WON THE WAR, BUT WE'VEGOT TO PAY FOR IT. "] On the whole the Committee was well pleased with his performance, partly because the gap between revenue and expenditure turned out tobe a mere trifle of two hundred millions instead of twice or thricethat amount; partly because there was, for once, no increase in theincome-tax; but chiefly, I think, for the sentimental reason that inrecommending a tiny preference for the produce of the Dominions andDependencies Mr. CHAMBERLAIN was happily combining imperial interestswith filial affection. Almost casually the CHANCELLOR announced that the Land Values Duties, the outstanding feature of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S famous Budget of 1909, were, with the approval of their author, to be referred to a SelectCommittee, to see if anything could be made of them. If only Mr. ASQUITH had thought of that device when his brilliant young lieutenantfirst propounded them! There would have been no quarrel between thetwo Houses: the Parliament Act would never have been passed, and aHome Rule Act, for which nobody in Ireland has a good word, would notnow be reposing on the Statute-Book. In the absence of any EX-CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER the task ofcriticism was left to Mr. ADAMSON, who was mildly aggressive andshowed a hankering after a levy on capital, not altogether easy toreconcile with his statement that no responsible Member of the LabourParty desired to repudiate the National Debt. Mr. JESSON, a NationalDemocrat, was more original and stimulating. As a representative ofthe Musicians' Union he is all for harmony, and foresees the timewhen Capital and Labour shall unite their forces in one great nationalorchestra, under the directing baton of the State. At the instance of Lord STRACHIE the House of Lords conducted aspirited little debate on the price of milk. It appears that thereis a conflict of jurisdiction between the FOOD-CONTROLLER and theMINISTER OF AGRICULTURE, and that the shortage in the supply of thiscommodity must be ascribed to the overlapping of the Departments. _Thursday, May 1st. _--Sinn Fein has decreed that nobody in Irelandshould do any work on May Day. Messrs. DEVLIN and MACVEAGH, however, being out of the jurisdiction, demonstrated their independence bybeing busier than ever. The appointment of a new Press Censor inIreland furnished them with many opportunities at Question-time forthe display of their wit, which some of the new Members seemed to findpassably amusing. Mr. DEVLIN'S best joke was, however, reserved for the Budget debate, when, in denouncing the further burdens laid on stout and whisky, hedeclared that Ireland was, "apart from political trouble, " the mostpeaceful country in the world. The fiscal question always seems to invite exaggeration of statement. The CHANCELLOR'S not very tremendous Preference proposals weredenounced by Sir DONALD MACLEAN as inevitably leading to the taxationof food and to quarrels with foreign countries. Colonel AMERY, on theother hand, waxed dithyrambic in their praise, and declared thatby taking twopence off Colonial tea the Government were not onlyconsecrating the policy of Imperial Preference, but were "putting thecoping-stone on it. " * * * * * [Illustration: The Minister of Labour (anxious to find work for theex-munitionette drawing unemployment pay). "HERE, MODOM, IS A CHARMINGMODEL WHICH WOULD SUIT YOU, IF I MAY SO PUT IT, DOWN TO THE GROUND. "] * * * * * A CELTIC COUNTER-BLAST. The continued domination of the Russians in the domain of the ballethas already excited a certain amount of not unfriendly criticism. Butour Muscovite visitors are not to be allowed to have it all their ownway, and we understand that negotiations are already on foot with aview to enabling the Irish Ballet to give a season at a leading Londontheatre in the near future. The Irish Ballet, which is organised on a strictly self-determiningbasis, is one of the outcomes of the Irish Theatre, but derives in itsessentials directly from the school established by Cormac, son of Art. That is to say it is in its aims, ideals and methods permeated by theDalecarlian, Fomorian, Brythonic and Firbolgian impulse. Mr. FergalDindsenchus O'Corkery, the Director, is a direct descendant ofCuchulinn and only uses the Ulidian, dialect. Mr. TordelbachO'Lochlainn, who has composed most of the ballets in the répertoire, is a chieftain of mingled Dalcassian and Gallgoidel descent. Thescenery has been painted by Mr. Cathal Eochaid. MacCathamhoil, and thedresses designed by Mr. Domnall Fothud O'Conchobar. The artists who compose the troupe have all been trained duringthe War at the Ballybunnion School in North Kerry, and combine in awonderful way the sobriety of the Delsartean method with the felineagility of that of Kilkenny. Headed by the bewitching GormflaithRathbressil, and including such brilliant artists as Maeve Errigal, Coomhoola Grits, Ethne O'Conarchy, Brigit Brandub, Corcu and Mocu, Diarmid Hy Brasil, Murtagh MacMurchada, Aillil Molt, Mag Mell andDonnchad Bodb, they form a galaxy of talent which, alike for theeuphony of its nomenclature and the elasticity of its technique, hasnever been equalled since the days of ST. VITUS. We have spoken of the work of Mr. O'Lochlainn, who is responsible forthe three-act ballet, _Brian Boruma_; a fantasy on the Brehon laws, entitled _The Gardens of Goll; Poulaphuca_, and the _Roaring ofO'Rafferty;_ but the repertory also includes notable and impassionedcompositions by Ossian MacGillycuddy, Aghla Malachy, Carolan MacFirbisand Emer Sidh. The orchestra employed differs in many respects fromthat to which we are accustomed, the wood-wind being strengthened bya quartet of Firbolg flutes and two Fodlaphones, while the brass isreinforced by a bass bosthoon, an instrument of extraordinary depthand sonority, and the percussion by a group of Dingle drums. But enough has been said to show that the Irish ballet is assured inadvance of a cordial reception from all admirers of the neo-Celticgenius. * * * * * "A Bill has been introduced in Florida providing that 'from and after equal suffrage has been established in Florida it shall be lawful for females to don and wear the wearing apparel of man as now worn publicly by him. '"--_Western Morning News_. Happily they cannot take the breeks off a Highlander. * * * * * COLLABORATION. Biddick has placed me in a most awkward position. I am a proud man; Icannot bring myself to accept a gift of money from anybody. And yet Icannot help feeling I should be justified in taking the guinea he hassent me. Biddick is a journalist. I was discussing the inflation of prices andasking his advice as to how to increase one's income. "Why not writesomething for the Press, my dear fellow?" he said. "Five hundred wordswith a catchy title; nothing funny--that's _my_ line--but somethingsolid and practical with money in it; the public's always ready forthat. Take your neighbour, old Diggles, and his mushroom-beds, forinstance. Thriving local industry--capital copy. Try your hand at halfa column, and call it 'A Fortune in Fungus. '" "I 'm afraid I know nothing about mushrooms, with the exception of theone I nearly died of, " I replied, "and I'm not sufficiently acquaintedwith Mr. Diggles to venture to invite his confidence respecting hisbusiness. " "My dear man, I don't ask you to tell Diggles you're going to writehim up in the newspapers; he'd kick you off the premises; he doesn'twant his secrets given away to competitors. Just dodge the old manround the sheds, get into conversation with his staff, keep youreyes open generally and you'll pick up as much as you want for half acolumn. And when you've got your notes together bring 'em along to me. I'll put 'em shipshape for you. " I thanked him very gratefully. The mushroom-sheds are situated in a field some distance from myresidence, and I found it rather a fatiguing walk. After tediouswatching in a cramped position through a gap in the hedge I saw Mr. Diggles emerge from a shed and move away from my direction. I lostno time in creeping forward under cover of my umbrella towards anemployee, who was engaged in tossing manure. I drew out my note-bookand interrogated him briefly and briskly. "Do you rear from seeds or from cuttings?" I asked him. He scratchedhis head and appeared in doubt. "Are your plants self-supporting, " Iwent on, "or do you train them on twigs? What would be the diameterof your finest specimen?" He continued in doubt. I adopted aconversational manner. "I suppose you'll be potting off soon? Youmust get very fond of your mushrooms. I think one always gets fond ofanything which demands one's whole care and attention. I wonder if Imight have a peep at your _protégés_?" I edged towards the door of one of the sheds, but he made no attemptto accompany me. Instead he put his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Hi, maister!" Mr. Diggles promptly responded to the summons. There was no eludinghim. I put my note-book out of sight and inquired if he could obligeme with a pound of fresh-culled mushrooms. He could, and he did. Ipaid him four-and-sixpence for them, the control price presumably, but he gave me no invitation to view the growing crops. I retracedmy steps without having collected even an opening paragraph for "AFortune in Fungus. " The next day found me again near the sheds. Mr. Diggles was nowherein sight. I approached unobtrusively through the hedge and accosted asmall boy. "Hulloa, my little man, " I said, "what is your department in thishive of industry? You weed the mushrooms, perhaps, or prune them?" Heseemed shy and offered no answer. "Perhaps you hoe between the plantsor syringe them with insecticide?" Still I could not win his confidence, so I tried pressing sixpenceinto his palm. "Between ourselves, what are the weekly takings?" Isaid. He pocketed the coin and put his finger on his lips. "_Belge, "_ he said. Then he bolted into a shed and returnedaccompanied by Mr. Diggles. There was nothing for it but to purchaseanother pound of mushrooms. I was no nearer "A Fortune in Fungus" thanbefore. Two days later, having received apparently reliable information thatMr. Diggles was confined to his bed with influenza, I ventured againto visit the sheds. I was advancing boldly across the field when tomy consternation he suddenly appeared from behind a hayrick. I wasso startled that I turned to fly, and in my precipitancy tripped on atussock and fell. Mr. Diggles came to my assistance, and, when he hadhelped me to my feet and brushed me down with a birch broom he wascarrying, I could do nothing less than buy another pound of hismushrooms. I felt it was time to consult Biddick. He was sitting at his deskstaring at a blank sheet of paper. His fingers were harrowing his hairand he looked distraught. "Excuse the interruption, " I said, "but this 'Fortune in Fungus' isruining me;" and I related my experience. At the finish Biddick gripped my hand and spoke with some emotion. "Dear old chap, " he said, "it's my line, after all. It's funny. Ifonly I can do it justice;" and he shook his fountain-pen. This morning I received a guinea and a newspaper cutting entitled "ACadger for Copy, " which may appeal to some people's sense of humour. It makes none to mine. In the flap of the envelope Biddick writes:"Halves, with best thanks. " Upon consideration I shall forward him a simple formal receipt. * * * * * [Illustration: "IT LOOKS QUITE LIKE PRE-WAR BACON. " "ON THE CONTRARY, MADAM, PERMIT ME TO ASSURE YOU IT IS OUR FINEST'POST-BELLUM STREAKY. '"] * * * * * From a bookseller's catalogue:-- "THE ART OF TATTING. This book is intended for the woman who has time to spare for reading, Tatting being such quick and easy work that busy fingers can do both at the same time. " An edition in Braille would appear to be contemplated. * * * * * THE GERM. The great Bacteriologist entered the lecture-room and ascended theplatform. A murmur of astonishment ran round the audience as theybeheld, not the haggard face of a man who daily risked the possibilityof being awarded the O. B. E. , but the calm and smiling countenance ofone who had succeeded where other scientists, even of Anglo-Americanreputation, had failed. In an awed silence this remarkable man placed on the table a dish, somewhat like a soup-plate in appearance, and carefully removed itsglass cover. "In this dish, gentlemen, " said the Professor, "we have the Agar-Agar, which is without doubt the best bacteriological culture medium yetdiscovered and is especially useful in growing a pathogenic organismsuch as we are about to test this afternoon. " Then taking a glass rod, to the end of which was attached a smallpiece of platinum wire, the lecturer proceeded to scrape a littleof the growth from off the Agar-Agar. Having done this he quicklydeposited it in a test-tube half full of distilled water, whichhe then heated over a Bunsen burner. Finally, with the aid of ahypodermic syringe, a little of the liquid was injected into twosleepy-looking guinea-pigs, and with bated breath the result of thetest was awaited. Suddenly, without any warning, the two little animals rose on theirhind legs and violently clutched each other by any part of the bodyon which they could get a grip. Before the astounded gaze of theonlookers they swayed, nearly fell, then went round in circles, at thesame time executing every sort of conceivable contortion. A great cheer burst from the audience. From all sides a rush was madefor the platform, and the Professor was carried shoulder-high roundthe room. The Jazz germ had been discovered at last. * * * * * [Illustration: _Pekinese (who has been accidentally pushed into thegutter by gigantic bloodhound). _ "AND YOU MAY THANK YOUR STARS I'VEGOT A MUZZLE ON!" * * * * * A FRIENDLY OFFER. "A French Gentleman would like to make acquaintance with and English one to improve the English language. "--_French Provincial Paper_. * * * * * "Ste. Geneviève (422-572), born just outside Paris, spent a long life in the city. "--_Daily Paper. _ Wherever it was spent, it was clearly a long life. * * * * * "---- College is the chosen home, the favoured haunt of educational success. Our staff is composed of lineal descendants of poets, seers, or savants, and it is the intention of this formidable phalanx of intellectuals to drive the whole world before them! We, of course, will say that these classes will be famous, and well worth attending. In Carlyle especially, the undersigned, with due modesty, expects to constitute himself a Memnon, and to receive the sage of Chelsea's martial pibroch from Hades, transmit it to the listeners, and to thrill them to the very marrow of their bones!"--_Advt. In Indian Paper_. We should like to hear what the sage's martial pibroch has to sayabout the advertiser's "due modesty. " * * * * * LAXITY IN QUOTATIONS. Among the many privileges which I propose to claim as a set-off forwhat are called advancing years is a greater laxity in quotation. WhenI have made a quotation I mean that that shall _be_ the quotation, and I don't intend to be driven either to the original source or tocyclopaedias of literature for verification. DANTE, for instance, isa most prolific fount of quotations, especially for those who do notknow the original Italian. If I have quoted the words "_Galeotto fuil libro e chi lo scrisse_" once, I have quoted them a hundred times, always with an excellent effect and often giving the impression thatI am an Italian scholar, which I am not. But surely it is not usualto abstain from a quotation because to use it would give a falseimpression? I am perfectly certain, for instance, that there areplenty of Italians who quote _Hamlet_, but know no more of Englishthan the words they quote, so I dare say that brings us right in theend. Then there is the quotation about "a very parfitt gentil knight, " orwords to that effect. At the moment of writing it down I felt that myversion was so correct that I would go to the scaffold for it; butat this very instant a doubt insinuates itself. Is "parfitt" with two"t's" the right spelling? It is related somewhere that TENNYSON and EDWARD FITZGERALD onceconspired together to see which of them could write the mostWordsworthian line, and that the result was:-- "A Mr. Wilkinson, a clergyman. " But there was no need for TENNYSON to go beyond his own works insearch of such an effect. He had already done the thing; and this washis effort, which occurs in _The May Queen_:-- "And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of peace. "This sounds as if it could not be defeated or matched, but matched itcertainly was in _Enoch Arden_. After describing _Enoch Arden's_ deathand the manner in which he "roll'd his eyes" upon _Miriam_, the bardinforms us:-- "So past the strong heroic soul away. And when they buried him the little port Had seldom seen a costlier funeral. " But I feel that I have strayed beyond my purpose, which was to claima certain mitigated accuracy in quotation for those who suffer fromadvancing years. * * * * * "----, chambermaid at the ---- Hotel, ----, was charged yesterday with stealing two diamond rings and a diamond and sapphire broom worth £80. "--_Daily Paper_. Yet Mr. CHAMBERLAIN refuses to impose a Luxury Tax. * * * * * From a list of the German Peace-delegates:--"Baron von Lersner, chief of the preliminary mission and ex-secretary of the German Embassy in Washington. He was also formerly attached to the German Embassy in Wales. "--_Belfast News Letter_. This sounds like another injustice to Ireland. * * * * * [Illustration: _Scientific Uncle_. "DO YOU KNOW, CHILDREN, THAT AT ONETIME, LONG AGO, WE USED TO HAVE FIVE TOES ON EACH HAND, AND LIVE INTREES?" _Niece_. "WE WON'T TELL ANYBODY, UNCLE. "] * * * * * THE ANNIVERSARY. The 23rd. To-day, my son, Two turgid years ago, Your father battled with the Hun At five A. M. Or so; This was the day (if I exclude A year of painful servitude Under the Ministry of Food) I struck my final blow. Ah, what a night! The cannon roared; There was no food to spare; And first it froze and then it poured; Were we dismayed? We were. Three hundred yards we went or more, And, when we reached, through seas of gore, The village we were fighting for, The Germans were not there. But miles behind a 9·2 Blew up a ration dump; Far, far and wide the tinned food flew From that tremendous crump: And one immense and sharp-toothed tin Came whistling down, to my chagrin, And caught me smartly on the shin-- By Jove, it made me jump. A hideous wound. The blood that flowed! It was a job to dress; I hobbled bravely down the road And reached a C. C. S. ; Nor was I so obsessed with gloom At leaving thus the field of doom As one might easily assume From stories in the Press. Though other soldiers as they fell-- Or so the papers say-- Cried, "GEORGE for England! Give 'em hell!" (It was ST. GEORGE'S Day), Inspiring as a Saint can be, I should not readily agree That anyone detected me Behaving in that way. Such is the tale. And, year by year, I shall no doubt relate For your fatigued but filial ear The history of this date; Yet, though I do not now enhance The crude events of that advance, There is a wild fantastic chance That they will grow more great. So be you certain while you may Of what in fact occurred, And if I have the face to say On some far 23rd That on this day the war was won, That I despatched a single Hun, Or even caught a glimpse of one-- _Don't you believe a word_. A. P. H. * * * * * ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY. "Miss ---- looked sweetly pretty in an emerald-green satin (very short) skirt, white blouse, and emerald handkerchief tied over her head--an Irish Colleen, and a bonie one too!"--_Colonial Paper_. * * * * * "According to a Vienna message, the Government has introduced a Bill dealing with the former reigning Mouse of Austria. "--_Provincial Paper_. Alas, poor KARL! _Ridiculus mus_. * * * * * "Wanted one hour daily from ten to eleven morning at convenience an English Talking Family for practice of talking. Remuneration twenty rupees per mensem. "--_Times of India_. We know one or two "talking families" that we should be glad toexport. * * * * * "In finding the defendant £3, Mr. Price told the defendant that he would get into serious trouble if he persisted in his conduct. "--_Evening Paper_. And he may not meet such a generous magistrate next time. * * * * * "Englishman, well educated, desires afternoon engagement; experienced in the care of children; good needlewoman; or would assist light housework. "--_Canadian Paper_. We hope we shall hear no further complaints from Canada thatEnglishmen are not adaptable. * * * * *COMMUNICATIONS. I was sitting in the Club, comfortably concealed by sheets of awell-known journal, when two voices, somewhere over the parados of thedeep arm-chair, broke in upon my semi-consciousness. "... Then poor old Tubby, who hasn't recovered from his 1918 dose ofshell-shock, got a go of claustrophobia and felt he simply had to getout of the train. " The speaker paused and I heard the clink of glass. "Well?" said the other voice. "So, before we could flatten him out, he skipped up and pulled thecommunicator thing and stopped the train; consequently we ran intoTown five minutes behind time. There was the deuce of a buzz aboutit. " "What's five minutes in this blissful land of lotus-eaters? Why, I'veknown the Calais-Wipers express lose itself for half-a-day without amurmur from anyone, unless the Brigadier had run out of bottled Bass. " "But, my dear fellow, " the first voice expostulated, "this was thegreat West of England non-stop Swallowtail; runs into Town threeminutes ahead of time every trip. Habitués of the line often turn anhonest penny by laying odds on its punctuality with people who arestrangers to the reputation of this flier. " "A pretty safe thing to bet on, eh?" said the other voice. Again therewas the faint clink of glass and then the voices drifted into othertopics, to which, having re-enveloped myself in my paper, I becameoblivious. A few days later I was called away from London, with Mr. WestabyJones, to consult in a matter of business. Mr. Westaby Jones is amember of the Stock Exchange and, amongst other trivial failings, hepossesses one which is not altogether unknown in his profession. Hecannot resist a small wager. On several occasions he has gambled withme and shown himself to be a gentleman of considerable acumen. Our business was finished and we were on the way back to Town by thegreat West of England non-stop Swallowtail. We had lunched well anddiscussed everything there was to discuss. It was a moment for rest. Iunfolded my paper and proceeded to envelop myself in the usual way. I seemed to hear the chink of glasses ... A voice murmured, "A prettysafe thing to bet on. " Then in a dreamy sort of manner I realised that Fate had deliveredWestaby Jones into my hands. When we were within twenty miles ofLondon I opened the campaign. I grossly abused the line on which wewere travelling and suggested that anybody could make a fortune byassuming that its best train would roll in well after the scheduledtime. Westaby Jones, having privily ascertained that the engine-driver hada minute or so in hand, immediately pinned me down to what he thought(but wisely did not say) were the wild inaccuracies of an imbecile. He did it to the extent of twenty-five pounds, and I sat back with thecomfortable feeling of a man who will shortly have a small legacy toexpend. At the moment which I had calculated to be most auspicious Isuddenly threw off the semblance of boredom, rose up, lurched acrossthe carriage and pulled the communication cord. (For the benefitof those who have not done this I may say that the cord comes awaypleasantly in the hand and, at the same time, gives one a piquantfeeling of unofficial responsibility. ) Westaby Jones was, for astockbroker, obviously astonished. "What on earth are you doing?" he exclaimed. "Sit down, " I said; "this is my improved exerciser. " "But you'll stop the train, " he shouted. "Never mind, " I replied; "what's a fine of five pounds compared tophysical fitness? Besides, " I added significantly, "it may be a goodinvestment after all. " For perhaps twenty seconds there was the silent tension of expectationin the air and then I realised with a shock that the train did notshow any signs of slackening speed. It was, if anything, going faster. I snatched frantically at the cord and pulled about half-a-furlonginto the carriage. We flashed past Ealing like a rocket, and Idesperately drew in coils and coils of the communicator until I andWestaby Jones resembled the Laocoon. It was no good. Smoothly andirresistibly we glided into the terminus and drew up at the platformthree minutes ahead of time. I have paid Westaby Jones, who was unmannerly enough to look pleased. I have also corresponded with the railway company, claiming damageson the grounds of culpable negligence. Unfortunately they require moreevidence than I am prepared to supply of the reasonable urgency of myaction. * * * * * From a theatre programme:-- "The name of the actual and responsible Manager of the premises must be printed at least once during every performance to ensure its being in proper order. " So that explains the noise going on behind the scenes. * * * * * NATURE NOTES. The Cuckoo has arrived and will sing as announced. * * * * * One of the results of the arrival of the Cuckoo is the prevalence ofnotices, for those that have eyes to see, drawing attention to theineligible character of nests. These take a variety of forms--such as"All the discomforts of home, " "Beware of mumps, " "We have lost ourworm cards, " "Serious lining-shortage"--but the purpose of each is todiscourage the Cuckoo from depositing an egg where it is not wanted. * * * * * From all parts of the country information reaches us as to the oddnesting-places of wrens and robins. A curious feature is the numberof cases where letter-boxes have been chosen, thus preventing thedelivery of letters, and in consequence explaining why so many lettershave not been answered. Even the biggest dilatory correspondent is notashamed to take advantage of the smallest bird. * * * * * The difficulty of obtaining muzzles is very general and manydog-owners have been hard put to it to comply with the regulation. From these, however, must be excepted those who possess wire-hairedterriers, from whose coats an admirable muzzle can be extracted in afew minutes. * * * * * The statement of a telephone operator, that "everything gives way totrunks, " is said to have caused great satisfaction in the elephanthouse at the Zoo. * * * * * PLEASE. Please be careful where you tread, The fairies are about; Last night, when I had gone to bed, I heard them creeping out. And wouldn't it be a dreadful thing To do a fairy harm? To crush a little delicate wing Or bruise a tiny arm? They 're all about the place, I know, So do be careful where you go. Please be careful what you say, They're often very near, And though they turn their heads away They cannot help but hear. And think how terribly you would mind If, even for a joke, You said a thing that seemed unkind To the dear little fairy folk. I'm sure they're simply everywhere, So _promise_ me that you'll take care. R. F. * * * * * [Illustration: _Harold (_after a violent display of affection). _"'TISN'T 'COS I LOVE YOU--IT'S 'COS YOU SMELL SO NICE. "] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_. ) The Great Man is, I suppose, among the most difficult themes to treatconvincingly in fiction. To name but one handicap, the author has insuch cases to postulate at least some degree of acquaintance on thepart of the reader with his celebrated subject. "Everyone is nowfamiliar, " he will observe, "with the sensational triumph achieved bythe work of X----;" whereat the reader, uneasily conscious of neverhaving heard of him, inclines to condemn the whole business beforehandas an impossible fable. I fancy Mr. SOMERSET MAUGHAM felt something ofthis difficulty with regard to the protagonist of his quaintly-called_The Moon and Sixpence_ (HEINEMANN), since, for all his sly pretenceof quoting imaginary authorities, we have really only his unsupportedword for the superlative genius of _Charles Strickland_, the stockbroker who abandoned respectable London to become aPost-impressionist master, a vagabond and ultimately a PacificIslander. The more credit then to Mr. MAUGHAM that he does quitedefinitely make us accept the fellow at his valuation. He owes this, perhaps, to the unsparing realism of the portrait. Heartless, utterlyegotistical, without conscience or scruple or a single redeemingfeature beyond the one consuming purpose of his art, _Strickland_ isalive as few figures in recent fiction have been; a genuinely greatthough repellent personality--a man whom it would have been at oncean event to have met and a pleasure to have kicked. Mr. MAUGHAM hascertainly done nothing better than this book about him; the drilysardonic humour of his method makes the picture not only credible butcompelling. I liked especially the characteristic touch thatshows _Strickland_ escaping, not so much from the dull routine ofstockbroking (genius has done that often enough in stories before now)as from the pseudo-artistic atmosphere of a flat in Westminster and awife who collected blue china and mild celebrities. _Mrs. Strickland_indeed is among the best of the slighter characters in a tale with asingularly small cast; though it is, of course, by the central figurethat it stands or falls. My own verdict is an unhesitating _stet_. * * * * * If there be any who still cherish a pleasant memory of the BonniePrince CHARLIE of the Jacobite legend, Miss MARJORIE BOWEN'S _Mr. Misfortunate_ (COLLINS) will dispose of it. She gives us a study ofthe YOUNG PRETENDER in the decade following Culloden. Figures such asLOCHIEL, KEITH, GORING, the dour KELLY, HENRY STUART, LOUIS XV. , withsundry courtiers and mistresses, move across the film. I should saythe author's sympathy is with her main subject, but her conscienceis too much for her. I find myself increasingly exercised overthis conscience of Miss BOWEN'S. She seems to me to be deliberatelycommitting herself to what I can only describe as a staccato method. This was notably the case with _The Burning Glass_, her last novel. Her narratives no longer seem to flow. She will give you cataloguesof furniture and raiment, with short scenes interspersed, for all theworld as if she were transcribing from carefully taken notes. Quiteprobably she is, and I am being authentically instructed and shouldbe duly grateful, but I find myself longing for the exuberance of herearlier method. I feel quite sure this competent author can find away of respecting historical truth without killing the full-bloodedflavour of romance. * * * * * There is a smack of the Early Besantine about the earnest scion ofa noble house who decides to share the lives and lot of common andunwashed men with an eye to the imminent appearance of the True Spiritof Democracy in our midst. Such a one is the hero of Miss MAUD DIVER'Slatest novel, _Strange Roads_ (CONSTABLE); but it is only fair tosay that _Derek Blunt_ (_né_ Blount), second son of the _Earl ofAvonleigh_, is no prig, but, on the contrary, a very pleasant fellow. For a protagonist he obtrudes himself only moderately in a ratherdiscursive story which involves a number of other people who donothing in particular over a good many chapters. We are halfwaythrough before _Derek_ takes the plunge, and then we find, him, notin the slums of some industrial quarter, but in Western Canada, whereclass distinctions are founded less on soap than on simoleons. At theend of the volume the War has "bruk out, " and our hero, apart fromhaving led a healthy outdoor life and chivalrously married and beenleft a widower by a pathetic child with consumption and no morals, is just about where he started. I say "at the end of the volume, " forthere I find a publisher's note to the effect that in consequenceof the paper shortage the further adventures of our hero have beenpostponed to a subsequent volume. It is to be entitled _The StrongHours_, and will doubtless provide a satisfactory _raison d'être_ forall the other people who did nothing in particular in Vol. I. * * * * * If you had numbered _Elizabeth_, the heroine of _A Maiden in Malaya_(MELROSE), among your friends, I can fancy your calling upon her to"hear about her adventures in the East. " I can see her delightedlytelling you of the voyage, of the people she met on board (includingthe charming young man upon whom you would already have congratulatedher), of how he and she bought curios at Port Said, of her arrival, ofher sister's children and their quaint sayings, of Singapore and itssights, of Malaya and how she was taken to see the tapping on a rubberplantation--here I picture a gleam of revived interest, possiblyfinancial in origin, appearing in your face--of the club, of dinnerparties and a thousand other details, all highly entertaining toherself and involving a sufficiency of native words to impress thestay-at-home. And perhaps, just as you were considering your chance ofan escape before tea, she would continue "and now I must tell you allabout the dreadful time I had in the rising!" which she would thenvivaciously proceed to do; and not only that, but all about thedreadful time (the same dreadful time) that all her friends had inthe same rising, chapters of it, so that in the end it might be sixo'clock or later before you got away. I hope this is not an unfair_résumé_ of the impression produced upon me by Miss ISOBEL MOUNTAIN'Sprattling pages. To sum up, if you have an insatiable curiosity forthe small talk of other people's travel, _A Maiden in Malaya_ may notprove too much for it. If otherwise, otherwise. * * * * * I wish Col. JOHN BUCHAN could have been jogging Mrs. A. C. INCHBOLD'Selbow while she was writing _Love and the Crescent_ (HUTCHINSON), Allthe essential people in his _Greenmantle_, which deals, towards theend at any rate, with just about the same scenes and circumstances asher story, are so confoundedly efficient, have so undeniably learntthe trick of making the most of their dashing opportunities. In Mrs. INCHBOLD's book the trouble is that with much greater advantages inthe way of local knowledge and with all manner of excitement, foundedon fact, going a-begging, nothing really thrilling or convincingever quite materialises. The heroine, Armenian and beautiful, isas ineffective as the hero, who is French and heroic, both of themdisplaying the same unfortunate tendency to be carried off captive bythe other side and to indulge in small talk when they should be mostsplendid. And the majority of the other figures follow suit. On theface of it the volume is stuffed with all the material of melodrama;but somehow the authoress seems to strive after effects that don'tcome naturally to her. What does come naturally to her is seen in abackground sketch of the unhappy countries of Asia Minor in the handsof the Turk and the Hun, which is so much the abler part of the bookthat one would almost rather the too intrusive narrative were brushedaside entirely. Personally, at any rate, I think I should prefer Mrs. INCHBOLD in essay or historical form. * * * * * Madame ALBANESI, in _Tony's Wife_ (HOLDEN AND HARDINGHAM), hasprovided her admirers with a goodly collection of sound Albanesians, but she has also given them a villain in whom, I cannot help thinking, they will find themselves hard-pressed to believe. _Richard Savile_was deprived of a great inheritance by _Tony's_ birth, and as hisguardian spent long years in nourishing revenge. He was not, we know, the first guardian to play this game, but that he could completelydeceive so many people for such a long time seems to prove him farcleverer than appears from any actual evidence furnished. If, however, this portrait is not in the artist's best manner, I can praise withoutreserve the picture of _Lady Féo_, a little Society butterfly, veryfrivolous on the surface, but concealing a lot of nice intuition andsympathy, and I welcome her as a set-off to the silly caricatures wecommonly get of the class to which she belonged. Let me add thatin the telling of this tale Madame ALBANESI retains her quiet andindividual charm. * * * * * [Illustration: A MARCH-PAST AS PORTRAYED BY OUR TYPIST ON HERMACHINE. ] * * * * * A CURIOUS ROMANIAN CUSTOM. "The two white doves which were perched in the wedding carriage excited much interest. They were given, following the pretty Roumanian cuckoo, to the bride and bridegroom by the people of Roumania to symbolise the happiness and peace which are hoped to the newly-married couple. "--_North Mail_. * * * * * "A ROMANTIC COURTSHIP IN TURKEY. Miss ---- visited Colonel ---- when boat, money, a hiding-place in Constantinople last summer suffering from smallpox. "--_Provincial Paper. _ There seem here to be all the elements of romance, but the storysuffers from overmuch compression. We shall wait to see it on thefilm.