PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 

VOL. 159. 

November 10th, 1920. 

CHARIVARIA. 

Now that the Presidential elections are over it is hoped thatany Irish-Americans who joined the Sinn Fein murder-gang forelectioneering purposes will go home again. 

 * * *

Owing to pressure on space, due among other things to the Americanelection, the net sale controversy in one of our contemporaries washeld over on Wednesday last. We are quite sure that neither SenatorHARDING nor Mr. COX was aware of his responsibility in the matter. 

 * * *

Lord HOWARD DE WALDEN says, "I would rather trust a crossing-sweeperwith an appreciation of music than a man who comes from a publicschool. " We agree. The former is much more likely to have been aprofessional musician in his time. 

 * * *

The mystery of the Scottish golf club that was recently inundated withapplications for membership is now explained. It appears that a caddyrefused a tip of sixpence offered him by one of the less affluentmembers, and the story somehow leaked out. 

 * * *

At one Hallowe'en dinner held in London the haggis was ten minuteslate. It is said that it had had trouble with a dog on the way and hadcome off second best. 

 * * *

The man who was heard last week to say that he had no idea that Mrs. ASQUITH had published a book of memoirs has now, on the advice of hisfriends, consented to see a doctor. 

 * * *

The clergy of Grays, in Essex, are advocating the abolition of Sundayfunerals. It is said that quite a number of strict Sabbatarians have arooted objection to being buried on the Sabbath. 

 * * *

According to an evening paper hawthorn buds have been plucked atHornsey. We don't care. 

 * * *

A Liberal Independent writes to ask if the Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, who hasbeen elected Lord Rector of Edinburgh University, is the well-knownPrime Minister of that name. 

 * * *

A firm of music publishers have produced what they describe as athree-quarter one-step. It will soon be impossible to go to a dancewithout being accompanied by a professional arithmetician. 

 * * *

It seems that high prices have even put an end to the chicken thatused to cross the road. 

 * * *

"Only through poverty, " says Mr. MAURICE HEWLETT, "will Englandthrive. " As a result of this statement we understand that severalprofiteers have decided to get down to it once again. 

 * * *

A Japanese arrested at Hull was found to have seven revolvers and twothousand rounds of ammunition on him. It was pointed out to him thatthe War was over long ago. 

 * * *

A contemporary refers to a romance which ended in marriage. Alas! howoften this happens. 

 * * *

The United States Government has decided to recognise the presentMexican Government. Mexican bandits say they had better take a goodlook at them while there is yet time. 

 * * *

A Prohibitionist asserts that Scotland will be dry in five years. Ourown feeling is that these end-of-the-world prognostications should beprohibited by law. 

 * * *

An Oxford professor has made himself the subject of a series ofexperiments on the effects of alcohol. Several college professors ofAmerica quite readily admit that they never thought of that one. 

 * * *

A correspondent writes to a contemporary to say that he wears a hatexactly like _The Daily Mail_ hat, and that he purchased it longbefore _The Daily Mail_ was started. The audacity of some people inthinking that anything happened before _The Daily Mail_ started issimply appalling. 

 * * *

Three stars have recently been discovered by an American. No, no; notthose stars, but stars in the heavens. 

 * * *

"Whilst returning to camp one night I walked right into a herd ofelephants, " states a well-known explorer in his memoirs. We havealways maintained that all wild animals above the size of a rabbitshould carry two head-lights and one rear-light whilst travellingafter dark. 

 * * *

A small island was advertised for sale last week. Just the sort ofthing for a bad sailor to take with him when crossing the Channel on arough day. 

 * * *

"Everyone knows, " a writer in _The Daily Mail_ declares, "thatelectric light in the poultry-house results in more eggs. " There maybe more of them but they never have the real actinic taste of thenatural egg. 

 * * *

An American inventor has devised a scheme for lassoing enemysubmarines. This is a decided improvement on the method of juststicking a pin into them as they whizz by. 

 * * *

Since the talk of Prohibition in Scotland, we are informed that oneconcert singer began the chorus of the famous Scottish ballad bysinging "O ye'll tak the dry road. "

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Mrs. Jones_. "YOU'D SEE IN THE PAPERS, JOHN, ABOUT THEAGITATION IN FAVOUR OF THE WIFE GOVERNING THE HOME. "

_Mr. Jones_. "WELL, CARRY ON, DEAR. "]

 * * * * *

From an article on "Bullies at the Bar":--

 "He who had read his 'Pickwick'--and who has not?--will never forget the trial scene where poor, innocent Mr. Pickwick is as wax in the hands of the cross-examiner. "

 _Provincial Paper_. 

We regret to say that, in our edition, _Mr. Serjeant Snubbin_ omittedto put his client in the witness-box, and consequently _Mr. SerjeantBuzfuz_ never had a chance of showing what he could do with him. 

 * * * * *

=BEFORE THE CENOTAPH. =

NOVEMBER 11TH, 1920. 

 Not with dark pomp of death we keep their day, Theirs who have passed beyond the sight of men, O'er whom the autumn strews its gold again, And the grey sky bends to an earth as grey; But we who live are silent even as they While the world's heart marks one deep throb; and then, Touched by the gleam of suns beyond our ken, The Stone of Honour crowns the trodden way. 

 Above the people whom they died to save Their shrine of sleep is set; abideth there No dust corruptible, nought that death may have; But from remembrance of the days that were Rises proud sorrow in a resistless wave That breaks upon the empty sepulchre. 

D. M. S. 

 * * * * *

=OUR INVINCIBLE NAVY. =

PRIZE-MONEY. 

The really intriguing thing about Naval prize-money is the fact thatno one knows exactly where it comes from. You don't win it by anydefinite act of superlative daring--I mean to say, you don't have tocreep out under cover of darkness and return in the morning with anenemy battleship in tow to qualify for a modicum of this mysterioustreasure. You just proceed serenely on your lawful occasions, confident in the knowledge that incredible sums of prize-moneyare piling themselves up for your ultimate benefit. I suppose theauthorities understand all about it; nobody else does. One just letsit pile. It is a most gratifying thought. 

During the more or less stormy times of the First Great War, we of theNavy were always able to buttress our resolution with golden hopesof a future opulence denied to our less fortunate comrades in thetrenches. Whenever the struggle was going particularly badlyfor us--when, for instance, a well-earned shore-leave had beenunexpectedly jammed or a tin of condensed milk had overturned intosomebody's sea-boot--we used to console each other with cheerfulreminders of this accumulating fruit of our endeavours. "Think of theprize-money, my boy, " we used to exclaim; "meditate upon the jinglingmillions that will be yours when the dreary vigil is ended;" and asby magic the unseemly mutterings of wrath would give place to purrsof pleasurable anticipation. Even we of the R. N. V. R. , mere temporaryface-fringes, as it were, which the razor of peace was soon to removefrom the war-time visage of the Service--even we fell under the spell. "Fourteen million pounds!" we would gurgle, hugging ourselves with joyin the darkness of the night-watches. 

In the months immediately following demobilisation I was frequentlystimulated by glittering visions of vast wealth presently to beshowered upon me from the swelling coffers of a grateful Admiralty. During periods of more or less temporary financial embarrassmentI would mention these expectations to my tailor and other restlesstradespeople of my acquaintance. "Fourteen millions--prize-money, youknow, " I would say confidentially; "may come in at any time now. " Ifound this had a soothing effect upon them. 

As the seasons rolled by, however; as summer and winter ran theirappointed courses and again the primrose pranked the lea unaccompaniedby any signs of vernal activity on the part of the Paymaster-in-Chief, these visions of mine became less insistent. I was at length obligedto confess that another youthful illusion was fading; prize-moneybegan to take its place in my mind along with the sea-serpent andsimilar figures of marine mythology. I was frankly hurt; I ceased evento raise my hat when passing the Admiralty Offices on the top of abus. 

That was a month or two ago; everything is all right again now. I oncemore experience the old pleasing thrill of emotion when riding downWhitehall. I have come to see how ungracious my recent attitude was. 

A chance meeting with Bunbury, late sub-Loot R. N. V. R. And a sometimeshipmate of mine--Bunbury and I had squandered our valour recklesslytogether aboard the Tyne drifters in the great days when Bellona worebell-bottoms--sufficed to bring me head-to-wind. 

In the course of conversation I referred to the non-fulfilment of ourearly dreams; I spoke rather bitterly. 

"And there are fourteen millions somewhere belonging to us, " Iconcluded mutinously. 

Bunbury regarded me with pained surprise. "Really, old sea-dog, " hesaid, "this won't do. Never let the engine-oil of discontent leak intothe rum-cask of loyal memories, you know. Now listen to me. Two yearsago you and I wore the wavy gold braid of a valiant life; we surgedalong irresistibly in the wake of NELSON; we kept the watch assigned. Does not your bosom very nearly burst with pride to call those days tomind? It does. What then? Has it never once occurred to you that thelast remaining link between us and the stirring past is this veryprize-money you are so eager to soil with the grimy clutch of avarice?Don't you realize that this alone exists to keep our memory green inthe minds of our old leaders at Whitehall? Picture the scene as it is. Someone mentions the word 'prize-money. ' Immediately the Lords ofthe Admiralty reach for their record files and begin turning overthe pages. They come upon the names of John Augustus Plimsoll--yourself--and Horatio Bunbury--me. 'Ah, ' they exclaim fondly, 'two ofour old gunroom veterans--when shall we look upon their like again?'Then they get up and go out to lunch. 

"A month or so later the same thing occurs; once more our names leapout from the type-written page. 'Brave boys, ' they murmur, 'gallantlads! What should we have done without them in the dark days? Theyshall have their prize-money this very--why, bless my soul, if itisn't one o'clock!'

"Surely, " pursued Bunbury earnestly, "you appreciate the finesentimental value of this one last tie? As long as our prize-money isin the keeping of the Service we can still think of it with intimateregard; we can still call ourselves BEATTY'S boys and hide our blusheswhen the people sing 'Rule, Britannia. ' You must see that this is theonly large-hearted way of looking at the matter. "

"Bunbury, old sailor, " I said, swallowing a lump in my throat, "youhave done me good; you have made me feel ashamed of myself. "

 * * * * *

There can be no doubt that Bunbury is right. I am so convinced of itthat when next my tailor inquires anxiously what steps are being takenfor the distribution of prize-money I shall put the matter to him justas Bunbury put it to me. He is certain to understand. 

 * * * * *

=Commercial Candour. =

 "The newest fashions are now being displayed in ----'s new dress salons, so that it is an easy matter to select an entire winter outfit with the minimum of ease. "--_Evening Paper_. 

 * * * * *

 "Sir Harry Johnston's 'The Gay Donkeys' has passed its fifth edition in London. "--_Australian Magazine_. 

A clear case for the S. P. C. A. (Society for the Prevention of Crueltyto Authors). 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: ENCOURAGE HOME INDUSTRIES. 

LORD ROBERT CECIL. "I TRUST THAT AFTER ALL WE MAY SECURE AT LEAST YOURQUALIFIED SUPPORT FOR OUR LEAGUE OF NATIONS?"

U. S. A. PRESIDENT-ELECT: "WHY, WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH OURS?"]

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Stout Gentleman (overhearing political discussion)_. "LOOK HERE, MY GOOD FELLOW--I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO YOUR ARGUMENTS; ANDLET ME TELL YOU WE'RE ALL IN THE SAME BOAT. "

_Politician_. "LUMME, GUV'NOR, YOU'D BETTER COME IN THE MIDDLE OF ITTHEN. "]

 * * * * *

=UNAUTHENTIC IMPRESSIONS. =

I think the time has come for me to follow the example of so manyother people and offer to the world a few pen pictures of prominentstatesmen of the day. I shall not call them "Shaving Papers fromDowning Street, " nor adopt the pseudonym of "The Man with the HotWater (or the Morning Tea), " nor shall I roundly assert that I havebeen the private secretary, the doctor, the dentist or the washerwomanof the great men of whom I speak. Nevertheless I have sources ofinformation which I do not mean to disclose, except to say that heavypersons who sit down carelessly on sofas may unknowingly inflictconsiderable pain, through the sharp ends of broken springs, on thosebeneath. 

I shall begin naturally with Mr. LLOYD GEORGE. 

There is probably no statesman of whom such widely different estimateshave been formed as the present Prime Minister of Great Britain. Ihave heard him compared with THEMISTOCLES, with MACCHIAVELLI, withMIRABEAU (I think it was MIRABEAU, but it may have been one of thoseother people beginning with "M" in French history. Almost everybody inFrench history began with an "M, " like the things that were drawn bythe three little girls in the well), and even with the younger PITT. I have heard him spoken of as a charlatan, as a chameleon, as achatterbox, and, by a man who had hoped that the KAISER would behanged in Piccadilly Circus, as a chouser. Almost all of theseestimates are thoroughly fallacious. Let us take, for instance, MACCHIAVELLI. It was the declared opinion of MACCHIAVELLI that for theestablishment and maintenance of authority all means may be resortedto and that the worst and most treacherous acts of the ruler, howeverunlawful in themselves, are justified by the wickedness and treacheryof the governed. Has Mr. LLOYD GEORGE ever said this? He may havethought it, of course, but has he ever said it? No. When one considersthat besides this dictum MACCHIAVELLI wrote seven books on the artof war, a highly improper comedy, a life of CASTRUCCIO CASTRACANI(unfinished, and can you wonder?), and was very naturally put to thetorture in 1513, it will be seen how hopelessly the parallel with Mr. LLOYD GEORGE breaks down. 

Let us turn then to the younger PITT. I have read somewhere of theyounger PITT that he cared more for power than for measures, andwas ready to sacrifice great causes with which he had sincerelysympathised rather than raise an opposition that might imperil hisascendency. That is just the kind of nasty and long-winded thing thatanybody might say about anybody. It was by disregarding this kind ofcriticism that the younger PITT kept on being younger. But apart fromthis, does Mr. LLOYD GEORGE quote HORACE in the House? Never, thankgoodness. How many times did WILLIAM PITT cross the English Channel?Only once in his whole life. That settles it. 

The predominant note--I may almost say the keynote--of the PRIMEMINISTER'S character is rather a personal magnetism such as has neverbeen exercised by any statesman before or after. When he rises tospeak in the House all eyes are riveted on him as though with avice until he has finished speaking. Even when he has finished theysometimes have to be removed by the Serjeant-at-Arms with a chisel. His speeches have the moral fervour and intensity of one of the MinorProphets--NAHUM or AMOS, in the opinion of some critics, though Ipersonally incline to MALACHI or HABAKKUK. This personal magnetismwhich Mr. LLOYD GEORGE radiates in the House he radiates no less in10, Downing Street, where a special radiatorium has been added to thebreakfast-room to radiate it. Imagine an April morning, a kingfisheron a woody stream, poplar-leaves in the wind, a shower of sugar shakensuddenly from a sifter, and you have the man. 

It has been said that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE has quarrelled with some ofhis nearest friends; but this again is a thing that might happen toanybody. Mr. LLOYD GEORGE may have had certain slight differences ofopinion with Lord NORTHCLIFFE, but what about HENRY VIII. And WOLSEY?and HENRY V. And _Falstaff_? and HENRY II. And THOMAS À BECKET?

Talking of THOMAS À BECKET, rather a curious story has been told tome, which I give for what it is worth. It is stated that some time agoMr. LLOYD GEORGE was so enraged by attacks in a certain section of thePress that he shouted suddenly, after breakfast one morning in DowningStreet, "Will no one rid me of this turbulent scribe?" Whereuponfour knights in his secretarial retinue drew their swords and set outimmediately for Printing House Square. Fortunately there happened tobe a breakdown on the Metropolitan Railway that day, so that nothinguntoward occurred. 

I sometimes think that if one can imagine the eloquence of SAVONAROLAblended with the wiliness of ULYSSES and grafted on to the strengthand firmness of OLIVER CROMWELL, we have the best historical parallelfor Mr. LLOYD GEORGE. It ought to be remembered that the grandfatherof OLIVER CROMWELL came from Wales and that the PROTECTOR is somewheredescribed as "Oliver Cromwell _alias_ Williams. " Something of that oldpower of dispensing with stupid Parliamentary opinion seems to havedescended to our present PRIME MINISTER. There is one difference, however. OLIVER CROMWELL'S famous advice to his followers was to trustin Divine Providence "and keep your powder dry. " Mr. LLOYD GEORGE putshis powder in jam. 

K. 

 * * * * *

=Our Patient Fishermen. =

 "Mr. ----, jun. , had another salmon on the Finavon Water. This is the second he has secured since the flood. "--_Scotch Paper_. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: "DON'T TURN YOUR 'EAD AWAY, MY LORD. WHY, DURIN' THEWAR IT WAS ALL 'MA, MA, 'AVE YOU ANY MATCHES?'"]

 * * * * *

=NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN. =

THE WHALE. 

_AIR. _--_"The Tarpaulin Jacket. "_

 The whale has a beautiful figure, Which he makes every effort to spoil, For he knows if he gets a bit bigger He increases the output of oil. 

 That is why he insists upon swathing His person with layers of fat. You have seen a financier bathing? Well, the whale is a little like that. 

 At heart he's as mild as a pigeon And extremely attached to his wife, But getting mixed up with religion Has ruined the animal's life. 

 For in spite of his tact and discretion There is fixed in the popular mind A wholly mistaken impression That the whale is abrupt and unkind. 

 And it's simply because of the prophet Who got into a ship for Tarshish But was thrown (very properly) off it And swallowed alive by "a fish. "

 Now I should not, of course, have contested The material truth of the tale If the prophet himself had suggested That the creature at fault was a whale. 

 But the prophet had no such suspicion, And that is convincing because He was constantly in a position To see what the miscreant was. 

 And this is what punctures the bubble, As JONAH, no doubt, was aware: "A _fish_" was the cause of the trouble, But the whale is a _mammal_. So there!

A. P. H. 

 * * * * *

=THE LIGHT FANTASTIC. =

"Dancers are born, not made, " said John. 

"_Some_ are born dancers, " corrected Cecilia, "others achievedancing. "

"Well, I'm not going to have it thrust on me any way, " retorted John. "I never have liked dancing and I never shall. I haven't danced foryears and years and I don't intend to. I don't know any of thesenew-fangled dances and I don't want to. "

"Don't be so obstinate, " said Cecilia. "What you want doesn't matter. You've got to learn, so you may as well give way decently. Come alongnow, I'll play for you, and Margery will show you the steps. "

"If Margery attempts to show me the steps I shall show her the door. I won't be bullied in my own house. Why don't you make your brotherdance, if somebody must?" said John, waving his arm at me. 

"Come on, Alan, " said Margery; "we can't waste our time on him. Comeand show him how it's done. "

"My dear little sister, " I said sweetly, "I should simply love it, butthe fact is--I can't. "

"Can't, " echoed Margery. "Why not?"

"I hate to mention these things, " I explained, "but the fact is Itook part in a war that has been on recently, and I have a bad hip, honourable legacy of same. "

"Oh, Alan, " said Margery, "how can you? Your hip's absolutely fit, youknow it is. You haven't mentioned it for months. "

"My dear Margery, " I said, drawing myself up, "I hope your brotherknows how to suffer in silence. But if you suppose that because Idon't complain--Great heavens, child, sometimes in the long silentwatches of the night--"

"Well, how about, tennis, then?" said Margery. "You've been playingall this summer, you know you have. "

"All what summer?" I asked. 

"That's a good one, " said John; "I bet she can't answer that. "

"Don't quibble, " said Margery. 

"Don't squabble, " said Cecilia. 

"Yes, stop squibbling, " said John. 

"I'm not quabbling, " said I. 

John and I leaned against each other and laughed helplessly. 

"When you have finished, " said Cecilia with a cold eye, "perhaps youwill decide which of you is going to have the first lesson. "

"Good heavens, " said John tragically, "haven't they forgotten thedancing yet?"

"We may as well give way, John, " I said; "we shall get no peace untilwe do. "

"I suppose not, " said John dismally "Very well, then, you're herbrother you shall have first go. "

He waved me politely to Margery. 

"Not at all, " I said quickly "Brothers-in-law first in ourfamily--always. "

"Could we both come together?" asked John. 

"No, you can't, " said Margery. 

"Then we must toss for it, " said John, producing a coin. 

"Tails, " I called. 

"Tails it is, " said John, walking across the room to Margery. 

And the lesson commenced. 

 * * * * *

"_Chassée_ to the right, _chassée_ to the left, two steps forward, twosteps backward, twinkle each way--"

"Five shillings on Twinkle, please, " I interrupted. 

Margery stopped and looked at me. 

"You keep quiet, Alan, " shouted Cecilia, cheerfully banging the piano. 

"I shall never learn, " said John miserably from the middle of theroom, "not in a thousand years. "

"Yes, you will, " encouraged Margery. "Just listen. _Chassée_ to theright, _chassée_ to the left, two steps forward, two steps back, twinkle each way--"

"Take away the number you first thought of, " I suggested, "and theanswer's the Louisiana Glide. "

"To finish up, " said Margery, "we grasp each other firmly, pranceround, two bars.... "

"That sounds a bit better, " said John. 

" ... Then waltz four bars, " continued Margery, "and that's all. Comeon, now. "

They came on.... 

"Good, " said Margery as they finished up; "he's doing it splendidly, Cecilia. "

John beamed complacently. 

"I got through that last bit rather well, " he said; "'pon my word, there's more in this dancing than I thought. I quite enjoyed thattwinkling business. "

"Have another one, " I suggested. 

"Don't mind if I do, " said John. "May I have the pleasure?" with acourtly bow to Margery. 

They re-commenced. 

"That's right, " said Margery; "now two forward. "

"I must have a natural genius for dancing, " said John, conversingeasily; "I seem to ... Do we twinkle next?"

"Yes, " said Margery. 

"I seem to fall into it naturally. "

"Look out!" shrieked Margery. 

I don't know exactly what happened; I rather think John got his gearsmixed up in the twinkling business. At any rate, one of his feet shotup in the air, he made a wild grab at nothing and tripped heavilybackwards into the hearth. The piano was drowned in general uproar. 

John arose with difficulty from the ashes and addressed himselfhaughtily to Cecilia. 

"I can understand that these two, " he said, waving a black butcontemptuous hand at Margery and myself, "should scream with delight. Their whole conception of humour is bound up with banana-skins andorange-peel. But may I ask why _you_ should have hysterics becauseyour husband has fallen into the fireplace?"

"'You seemed to fall into it so naturally, '" I quoted in a shakyvoice. 

"Darling, " sobbed Cecilia, "I am trying--please--if only you wouldtake that piece of soot off your nose--" She dabbed her eyes and wepthelplessly. 

John rubbed his nose quickly and walked to the door. 

"If you want my opinion of dancing, " he said bitterly, "I think it's alow pagan habit. "

"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star, '" sang Margery. 

"Bah!" said John, and banged the door. 

 * * * * *

THE NEW UTOPIA. 

[Suggested by Mr. J. H. THOMAS'S book, just out, with a Red Flag on thewrapper. ]

 O England, with what joy I hail The master-hand that calms and cools In THOMAS'S entrancing tale, _When Labour Rules_. 

 There will be no more serfs and slaves; There will be no more feudal fools; The KING may stay, if he behaves, When Labour rules. 

 Workers, in Downing Street installed, Will never think of downing tools; Strikes clearly never will be called When Labour rules. 

 The hand of brotherhood that knits At present Tom and Dick with Jules Will be extended to good Fritz, When Labour rules. 

 The vile capitalistic crew Of human vampires, sharks and ghouls Will vanish in the boundless blue When Labour rules. 

 Our children will be standardized In psycho-analytic schools, And brains completely equalized When Labour rules. 

 O Paradise! O frabjous day! When 'neath the flag of flaming gules Labour shall hold unchallenged sway-- When THOMAS rules. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: FOLLOWING THE ENORMOUS SUCCESS OF _THE DAILY MAIL_HAT--

--WE LOOK FORWARD ANXIOUSLY TO _THE TIMES_ CRAVAT--

--_THE TELEGRAPH_ COAT--

--_THE CHRONICLE_ QUILTED BAGS

--_THE HERALD_ PATENT SABOTS. 

STUDY OF AN IMPARTIAL READER. 

=MANNERS AND MODES. =]

 * * * * *

=GENF AND THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS. =

"Genf, " like "Genève, " is the Swiss for "Geneva. " It was selected, nearly two years ago, as the seat of the League of Nations. In a fewdays the League arrives; and I doubt if any person, firm, company, corporation or league, having provided itself with a seat, ever waitedso long before it came and sat upon it. 

You will remember a learned treatise of mine in these pages on thesubject of Lucerne, written in August last, when our PRIME MINISTERcame and sat there. I make my living by writing up the towns ofSwitzerland as one by one they get sat on. As there are not morethan half-a-dozen eligible towns in Switzerland, and as we shall haveexhausted two of them in less than half a year, the living I make isa precarious one; in other words I shall soon be dead. Well, well! Ashort life and a merry one, say I. You must admit a touch of subtlemerriment in that word "Genf. "

To get to Geneva you provide yourself with a passport, a book of railand steamer tickets, a ticket for a seat in the Pulman car, a ticketfor a berth in the sleeping-car and a ticket for the registration ofyour luggage. In short, by the time you are in France you will havehad pass through your hands one passport and eleven tickets; and thefirst thing you will do upon settling down into the French train is tocompete and intrigue to get a twelfth ticket for your lunch. You willfind that this useless ticket will follow you all the way to Genevaand will always assert itself when you are accosted by a ticketinspector. I even know a traveller who arrived eventually at theSwiss frontier with no other paper of identity or justification; fora passport which should have given his name, address, motive fortravelling, shape of mouth, size of nose and any other peculiarities, he could only tender documentary evidence of his having eaten thenineteenth lunch of the first series of the day before. 

Two things catch the eye about Geneva. In the first place it is on alake, and in the second place it is always brimful of InternationalUnions, Leagues, Congresses and Conferences. The lake is navigatedin the season by a fleet of sizeable steamers, and one of these, atwo-hundred tonner, used to call every morning of the season at thelittle pier outside my house to take me to business, and brought meback again every evening. By the pier rests an old, old man whoseonly duty in life it is to catch the hawser as it is thrown from theincoming liner. Twice a day for four months that hawser was thrown forthe old man to catch, and twice a day for four months he missed it. Ispoke to him about this on the last day, and he showed a fine couragewhich nothing can depress. Next season he means to try again. As hewill be out of a job in the interval I am plotting to secure for himthe post of naval expert to the League. 

Turning from the lake to the international delegates, who aboundin Geneva, it is to be noted that the last lot here were theInternational Congress of Leagues of Women. Their main agendum was topronounce their complete independence of men. One of these delegateswent for a row on the lake and fell in. She was pulled out again by aman. 

You will find that Geneva was nominated as the seat of the League inthe Peace Treaty of Versailles. Ever since, the people of Geneva havebeen busy conjecturing what the League of Nations will do upon itsarrival in Geneva. It will do exactly what you and I would do insimilar circumstances. Stepping out of the station exit it will hurryoff to its hotel. But when Leagues go to hotels they buy the darnedthings outright. I don't know what they do about notices on the walls;alter some and remove others, no doubt. The international delegateswill be requested to ring once for the political expert, twice for themilitary expert and three times for the naval expert. If my old mangets the last-named job they will have to ring rather more than threetimes if they want him to come up _at once_ and discuss schemes forreadjusting the various oceans. 

As to the other usual decorations of hotel bedroom walls, the noticewill be removed which informs all concerned that the management willnot be held responsible for valuables, unless these be deposited inthe office safe, though this will not be intended to indicate that thenew management has doubts as to the safety even of its own safe. 

The "Hôtel National, " which is the hotel in question, was in processof complete reconstruction when the purchase took place. A bathroomhas been annexed to every room. Presumably every internationaldelegate will have a suite allotted to his nation. The question I askmyself is this, Will he put himself in the room and his secretariesin the bathroom, or himself in the bathroom and the secretaries in theroom? And the answer I make to myself is as follows: The delegate willappoint the room to be his room and the bathroom to be his bathroomand will leave his secretaries to make the best of things out in thecorridor. The suggestion you will probably make is that there are moresuites of rooms than nations; that I must leave you to work out foryourself. The number of suites of rooms is ascertainable, but no oneseems able to inform me how many nations there are. Personally everytime I pick up a newspaper I seem to discover a new one. However thatmay be, the nations are now all formed into their League, and may thebest one win the Cup Final, say I!

F. O. L. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _The Profiteer's Wife. _ "HEAVENS! MARGARET HAS ELOPEDWITH THE CHAUFFEUR IN THE CAR. "

_The Profiteer. _ "_WHAT!_ NOT THE NEW ROLLS-ROYCE?"]

 * * * * *

[Illustration: THE SPREAD OF EDUCATION. 

1914. 

"Don't 'e look lovely in 'is uniform?"

"I do like a play wiv a bit of fightin' in it. "

"O, ain't 'e sweet!"

"Makes you feel all shiverylike when 'e waves 'is sword an' all, don'tit?"

"Oo, I 'ope they're not going to fire no guns. "

1920. 

"E's got civvy boots on!"

"Take 'is blinkin' name, Sergeant, an' get 'is blinkin' 'air cut. "

"What are yer, Sick Parade?"

"Fall in, defaulters. "

"'Oo stole the rum?"]

 * * * * *

=FOR THE CHILDREN. =

Mr. Punch comes once more, hat in hand, to beg for help in a goodcause. This time he asks the generous aid of his readers on behalfof the Victoria Home at Margate, of which Her Majesty the QUEEN isPatroness. This Home cares for invalid children, from very littleones of only a few months old, to boys of twelve years and girls offifteen. There is room for between fifty and sixty of them and theystay, on an average, for the best part of a year, during which theyreceive careful medical attention, and have all their needs tended, body and mind. Many of them have lost a leg or an arm and nearly allhave some bandaged limb, yet, with these disabilities, they contriveto learn the duties of a loyal Scout and are very proud of theiruniform. 

The cost of drugs, of surgical dressings and all house-keepingnecessaries has risen enormously and the Home is compelled to pleadfor further help. Mr. Punch invites his readers to send for a reportand see for themselves the very touching pictures which it gives, in an admirable set of photographs, of the life of these children intheir happy surroundings. 

All communications and gifts should be addressed to the Secretary ofthe Victoria Home for Invalid Children, at 75, Denison House, VauxhallBridge Road, S. W. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Minister's Wife. _ "ARE YOU ALWAYS AS FEEBLE AS THIS, MR. MACPHERSON? DO YOU NEVER FEEL STRONGER?"

_Macpherson. _ "AH WEEL, ME'M, AS THE MEENISTER WAD TELL YE HIMSEL', ANY SMA' MEASURE O' HEALTH THAT AH HAE IS JUST ABOOT MEALTIMES. "]

 * * * * *

"The Unknown Warrior. "

WESTMINSTER ABBEY, NOVEMBER 11TH, 1920. 

 Here lies a warrior, he alone Nameless among the named and known; None nobler, though by word and deed Nobly they served their country's need, And won their rest by right of worth Within this storied plot of earth. Great gifts to her they gave, but he-- He gave his life to keep her free. 

O. S. 

 * * * * *

THE NEW JOURNALISM. 

 ["In New York Mr. Harding leads by a figure something like the circulation of _The Daily Mail_. Pennsylvania gives him a majority which appears equal to the circulation of _The Evening News_. It is phenomenal. "--_The Evening News. _]

The method which is being used just now by some of Mr. Punch'scontemporaries to draw attention to their circulations does not, itwill be seen, tend to numerical nicety, though doubtless it has itsadvantages from the advertising point of view. The following items ofnews are intelligently anticipated. 

 * * *

The licences cancelled in one district in Scotland, as a result ofthe recent local veto poll, total exactly half the number of quires of"returns" of last week's _Pawkiesheils Gazette_. It is insignificant. 

 * * *

An analysis of the miners' votes in the Lancashire coalfield provesthat there were as many men in favour of rejecting the Governmentproposals as would have provided ten readers for each copy sold (_not_merely printed) of the last issue of _The Chowbent and ChequerbentChronicle_. It is magnificent. 

 * * *

It is estimated that, if three more distinguished statesmen andanother woman of letters can be prevailed upon to write piquantreviews of Mrs. ASQUITH'S autobiography, the sale of the work willprobably greatly exceed the numbers of copies of the latest Blue Bookissued by H. M. Stationery Office. It is unthinkable. 

 * * *

It is confidently expected that, if the protests against a certaincinema plot can be sustained for a few days longer, as many peoplewill go to see the show in the first week as there are feet in thefilm--without counting those who will sneak round for a free view of"The Stage Door of the Diadem Theatre. " It is good business. 

 * * * * *

 "An ex-Army officer was charged with stealing cooks valued at 51/- from Messrs. ----'s. "--_Sunday Paper. _

At that price they must have been very plain cooks. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: THE SHRINE OF HONOUR. 

"WHO GOES THERE?"

"I HAVE NO NAME. I DIED FOR MY COUNTRY. "

"PASS, UNKNOWN WARRIOR. "]

 * * * * *

=ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. =

_Monday, November 1st. _--In response to a renewed demand for theAdmiralty's account of the Battle of Jutland the PRIME MINISTERmade the remarkable statement that it was very difficult to get "anofficial _and impartial_ account, " but he added that the Governmentwere willing to publish all the reports and despatches on the subjectand leave the public to judge. 

 Who shall decide, when Admirals disagree? Why, JULIAN CORBETT, or the great B. P. 

Owing to the unexpectedly rapid passage through Committee of theGovernment of Ireland Bill last Friday, the way was cleared for anumber of British measures. Although dealing with the most diversesubjects they were alike in one respect--without exception theyincurred the hostility of Sir F. BANBURY. Whether it was a proposalto reduce the dangers of employing women in lead processes or to givemarried women in Scotland the same privileges as their English sisters(including the duty of supporting an indigent husband), or to holdan Empire Exhibition, or to set up Juvenile Courts, the hon. Baronetfound reason for opposing them all. 

Once or twice he secured the support of Sir JOHN REES, but forthe most part he was _Athanasius contra mundum_, maintaining hisequanimity even when Mr. HOGGE advised him to "marry a Scotswoman;"or Lady ASTOR expressed her regret that he had not women, instead ofbankers, for his constituents. 

[Illustration: "ATHANASIUS CONTRA MUNDUM. "

SIR FREDERICK BANBURY. ]

The Government had no reason to complain of his activity, which mayindeed have prevented the intrusion of more dangerous critics; fordespite his efforts every Bill went through. 

_Tuesday, November 2nd. _--The most striking thing in Lord LOREBURN'Sspeech upon Irish affairs seemed to me to be his uncompromisingdeclaration that he was "no supporter of Mr. ASQUITH. " He endorsed, however, his former chief's demand for an independent inquiry into thereprisals, but his motion was defeated by 44 to 13. 

[Illustration: "No supporter of Mr. ASQUITH. "

LORD LOREBURN. ]

Ever since Sir W. JOYNSON-HICKS defeated Mr. CHURCHILL at Manchesterhe has felt it his duty to keep on his track. Convinced that ourpolicy in Mesopotamia is due to the WAR MINISTER'S megalomania he ismost anxious to bring him to book. The prospect of a SupplementaryEstimate for the Army seemed likely to furnish the desired occasion. But when he pressed Mr. CHURCHILL on the subject the allegedspendthrift airily replied that there was no hurry; "I do notimmediately require money. "

The gloom of the daily Irish catechism was a little brightened by aninterchange of pleasantries between Mr. STANTON and Mr. JACK JONES. On this occasion the latter had rather the best of it. "Golliwog!"he shouted in allusion to his opponent's luxuriant _chevelure_. Mr. STANTON could think of no better retort than the stereotyped"Bolshie!" and when Mr. JONES rejoined with "You ought to be put intoMadame Tussaud's" Mr. STANTON was reduced to silence. But is it not ascandal that these entertaining comedians should only get four hundreda year?

On the Agriculture Bill Sir A. GRIFFITH-BOSCAWEN was faced with anurgent demand for a separate Wages Board for Wales. First he wouldn't;it would be "an exceedingly inconvenient and expensive arrangement. "But the Welshmen were so insistent that he changed his mind, and whenthe vigilant Sir FREDERICK BANBURY challenged the new clause on theground that it would impose a fresh charge on the Exchequer SirARTHUR was able to convince the SPEAKER that, though there would be"additional expenditure, " there would be no "fresh charge. " Such arethe nice distinctions of our Parliamentary system. 

_Wednesday, November 3rd. _--When Mr. CHURCHILL, some sixteen yearsago, crossed the floor of the House, his man[oe]uvre was regarded asa portent, and men talked of "a sinking ship. " It cannot be saidthat Lord HENRY BENTINCK'S sudden appearance among the Labour Memberscreated anything like the same sensation, even though he was joined alittle later by Mr. OSWALD MOSLEY. Lord HENRY has always derived hispolitical opinions rather from his heart than his head, and has latelydeveloped a habit of firing explosive Questions at Ministers from hiseyrie behind their backs. They will probably find his frontal attacksless disconcerting. 

[Illustration: "OLD GOLLIWOG. "

Mr. C. B. STANTON (_As viewed by Mr. JACK JONES_). ]

While Lord HENRY was in the House, off and on, for thirty-four yearsbefore discovering that he was on the wrong side, Mr. MOSLEY has madethe same discovery after an experience of barely as many weeks. Fromhis new perch he inquired this afternoon if Government cement wasbeing sent abroad, to the detriment of British builders. Dr. ADDISONcontented himself with professing ignorance of any such transaction. A less serious Minister might have replied that the Government neededall their cement to mend the cracks in the Coalition. 

News that the coal-strike was over reached the House during theevening. Mr. BRIDGEMAN, always cautious, "understood" that the menhad been "recommended" to go back to work. Mr. ADAMSON, fresh from theConference, was much more downright. "The strike, " he said, "has beendeclared off, and the men return to work. " So that's that. 

_Thursday, November 4th. _--Lord SALISBURY'S complaint that theGovernment's policy in Egypt was shrouded in more than Egyptiandarkness brought a spirited reply from Lord CURZON, who declared thatevery stage in the negotiations had been fully revealed in the Press. If no definite decision as to the future government of the countryhad been published that was simply because the Cabinet had not yethad time to make up its collective mind. Judging by Lord MILNER'Ssubsequent account of his Mission, it would appear that the processwill be long and stormy. The Mission went to Cairo to sound thefeeling of the Nationalists, but for all practical purposes they mightas well have stopped in London, where they ultimately interviewedZAGHLUL PASHA and his colleagues, and obtained information whichmaterially altered and softened their previous views. The bestNationalists were not anti-British, but simply pro-Egyptian. LordMILNER'S final appeal, that his piece should not be hissed off thestage before it had been heard, sounded a little ominous. 

Mr. L'ESTRANGE MALONE is not very popular in the House of Commons justnow. When he rose to address a "Supplementary" to the WAR MINISTERhe was so persistently "boo-ed" that the SPEAKER had to intervene tosecure him a hearing. Mr. LOWTHER probably repented his kindness whenit appeared that Mr. MALONE had nothing more urgent to say than thatMr. CHURCHILL would be better employed in looking after the troops inIreland than in reviewing books for _The Daily Mail_. 

For the third day in succession Mr. T. P. O'CONNOR essayed to move theadjournment in order to call attention to what he called "the policyof frightfulness" in Ireland. This time the SPEAKER accepted themotion, but the ensuing debate was of the usual inconclusive kind. Mr. DEVLIN gave another exhibition of stage-fury. He objected to theword "reprisals" being used for the "infamies" going on in Ireland, declared that the Government were responsible for all the murders andprophesied that the present CHIEF SECRETARY, "with all his outwardappearance of great masculinity, " would fail, as BALFOUR andCROMWELL--the House enjoyed this concatenation--had failed before him. 

In points of detail Sir HAMAR GREENWOOD conceded a little more tohis critics than on some former occasions. He undertook to considerwhether the Government should compensate the owners of creameriesor other property wrongfully destroyed; and he admitted that someconstables had exceeded their duty, nine of them being actually underarrest on various charges. But on the main point he was adamant. Quoting the remark of a police-sergeant at Tralee, "They have declaredwar upon us and I suppose war it must be, " the CHIEF SECRETARY said inhis most emphatic tones, "War it will be until assassination stops. "

[Illustration: "Old Mother Goose was delighted when she saw what afine bird her son had provided her with. "

WALES AND SIR A. GRIFFITH-BOSCAWEN. ]

 * * * * *

STUTTFIELD AND THE REDS. 

Stuttfield was nothing of a NERO. He would never have fiddled whileRome burned. He would have been more likely to imagine that Rome wasburning when there was really nothing more going on than a bonfire. He is one more example of the pernicious influence of sensationalliterature upon a nervous temperament. 

It all began through Stuttfield finding a copy of _The Daily Blast_ ina railway carriage last June. This journal is printed on white paper, but the tendency of its contents is ruddy--that is to say, it has"Red" leanings. It was a revelation to Stuttfield. 

"Are people _allowed_ to say such things?" he asked me in horror. 

"My dear fellow, no one takes it seriously, " I said. "Don't youworry. "

But Stuttfield did worry. _The Daily Blast_ had the same effect uponhim as a snake has upon a rabbit; it terrified him, yet he could notrun away from it. In fact he became a regular subscriber and continuedso despite some rumours that it was supported financially by theRougetanians--rumours which required, and received, a great deal ofexplanation. 

Then, through the offices of his man-servant, he obtained a copy of_The Volcano_. 

_The Volcano_ appears to be in advance of _The Daily Blast_ in itsideals, and immensely so in their expression. But here again I assuredStuttfield that no one took them seriously. "I don't suppose theytake themselves seriously, " I assured him. "They want to sell _TheVolcano_, that's all. "

"Yes, " said Stuttfield, "but they do sell it, and people read it. "

"I expect the circulation's about two thousand a week, " I saidconsolingly. But Stuttfield, as I could see, was not consoled. 

I met him at intervals after that, and on each occasion he seemed tobe more obsessed with the notion that the "Reds" would overwhelm usall shortly. 

"Russia is Red, " he whispered; he always whispers now for fear ofbeing overheard by a Red agent, though there was not very much risk ofthat in St. James's Street. "And what about India and China?"

"Red, black and yellow--the Zingari colours, " I said ribaldly, andStuttfield left me in disgust. 

Then I heard from a friend that he had sold his cottage at Redhill. This was a bad sign, and I went to see him. I found him much worse. 

"You've taken an overdose of _The Volcano_, " I said. 

He seized my arm with trembling fingers. 

"The Red Revolution is upon us, " he hissed. 

I laughed. "Don't you worry about the Red Revolution. You come out tolunch. "

He would hardly be persuaded. Clubs and restaurants would be attackedfirst, he thought. If we lunched together it had better be inan eating-house in Bermondsey. "I have a disguise, " he said, anddisclosed a complete proletarian outfit. 

"Well, I haven't, " I said. "Not that these clothes of mine will leadanyone to mistake me for a capitalist. But, so far as lunch goes, hadn't we better be killed by a Red bomb at the Fitz than by tripe inBermondsey?"

Stuttfield could not but admit the sense of this, so we started out. 

It is widely recognised that Flag Days, however admirable theirobjects, have been a little overdone. But it was sheer bad luck thatbrought Stuttfield face to face with a flag-seller just as we wereentering the Fitz. She came at him with a determined aspect and began"The Red Cr----"

It was enough. Poor Stuttfield was across the pavement and into a taxibefore I could stop him. There was nothing for me to do but followhim. 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Waterloo, " he answered through blanched lips. I could get nothingmore from him. 

At Waterloo he sprang out, leaving me to pay the cab, and disappearedinto the station. I followed as quickly as I could, but he was nowhereto be seen. 

"Where would he go to hide from the Reds?" I asked myself. Suddenly Ihad an idea about his destination. 

I was right. In the foremost carriage I found him. I tried to persuadehim to come out, but he clung to the rack. So I left him. I have notseen him since. 

I hope he feels safe in the Isle of Wight. 

 * * * * *

 "You can burn your slack cook in oven in our ---- Grate. "--_Advt. In Daily Paper. _

But now that the coal strike is over we shall try to put up with ourcook a little longer. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Our Reverend Spoonerist (calling at the Deanery). _ "ISTHE BEAN DIZZY?"]

 * * * * *

 "WALLASEY'S LOW FIGURE. 

 POPULATION JUMP--FROM 21, 192 TO 99, 493 IN 28 DAYS. "

 _Liverpool Paper. _

We do not know why this should be described as a "low figure. " To usit seems remarkably good going. 

 * * * * *

 "The weather forecast for Sheffield and district for the next twenty-four years is as follows:--

 Wind southerly, light, freshening later; cloudy or overcast; probably some rain later; visibility indifferent to fair; mild. "

 _Yorkshire Paper. _

It is hoped however that some improvement may be shown in 1945. 

 * * * * *

Puck's Record Eclipsed. 

 "For five minutes I was in the Mercantile Marine and the Navy. During these five minutes I made a complete circuit of the globe. "--_Letter in Welsh Paper. _

 * * * * *

 "The pruning-fork is being applied in order to bring the staff within the capacity of the accommodation. "--_Provincial Paper. _

After which harmony will be restored by means of the tuning-knife. 

 * * * * *

 "It did one good, on entering the Queen's Hall last night, to find every seat in the building, even to those at the back of the rostrum, occupied by the London Symphony Orchestra. "--_Evening Paper. _

An audience is often so distracting. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Fortune-Teller (to client). _ "A DARK MAN HAS BEENHOVERING ABOUT YOUR PATH FOR THE LAST MONTH. "

_Client. _ "OH, THAT MUST BE THE AGENT WHO'S BEEN WORRYING ME TO INSUREMY LIFE. "]

 * * * * *

=THE MOTHER-IN-LAW MYSTERY. =

In a provincial paper I find the following passage:--

 "Counsel stated that the prisoner's mother was in court. Later he informed the Judge that he had made a mistake; it was the prisoner's mother-in-law. A general laugh throughout the court followed this 'correction. '"

We have here in a nutshell the case for traditional communal humour, and once again we are set to wondering why--except possibly to allaysome whimsical twinges of self-respect--dramatists ever try toinvent new jokes at all. Even more are we set to wondering why thisparticular joke never fails. 

In the present case the injustice done to an honourable class ofwomen--that is to say, those who provide lovers with their loves (forthat is how these relationships begin)--was the greater because nodoubt, when the laughter had subsided a little, every eye soughtfor the lady in question. Normally we have not the opportunityof visualising the butt at all. It is enough that she shouldbe mentioned. Nor would any grotesque details in her costume orphysiognomy make the joke appreciably better. It requires no suchassistance; it is rich enough without them; to possess a marrieddaughter is all that is necessary to cause gusts of joyful mirth. 

That it is not the lady herself who is funny could--no matter howGothic her figure--be proved in a moment by placing her in thewitness-box and asking her to state her relationship to the prisoner'swife. She would say, "I am her mother, " and nothing would happen. Butif the question were, "What is your relationship to the prisoner?" andshe replied, "I am his mother-in-law, " sides would split. Similarlyone can imagine that if the husband's reply to the counsel's question, "Who was with you?" had been, "My wife was with me, " there would havebeen no risible reaction whatever; but if the reply had been, "Mywife's mother was with me, " the place would have been convulsed. Ofcourse the true artist in effect would never say, "My wife's mother, "but "My mother-in-law. " It is the "in-law" that is so exquisitelyamusing and irresistible. 

But both would be the same person: the gravest thing on earth, it might be, in every other respect--even sad and dignified--butludicrous because her daughter happened to have found a husband. 

To inquire why the bare mention of the mother of a man's wife shouldexcite merriment is to find oneself instantly deep in sociology--andin some of its seamiest strata too. While exploring them one wouldmake the odd discovery that, whereas the humour that surroundsand saturates the idea of a wife possessing a maternal relativeis inexhaustible, there is nothing laughable about the mother of ahusband. A wife can talk of her husband's mother all day and neverhave the reputation of a wit, whereas her husband has but to mentionher mother and he is the rival of the Robeys. 

As for fathers-in-law, low comedians would starve if they had todepend on the help that fathers-in-law give them. Fathers-in-law donot exist. Nor do brothers-in-law or sisters-in-law, except as facts;but the joke is that they can be far more interfering (interferencebeing at the root of the matter, I take it) than anyone in the world. It is the brother-in-law who knows of absolutely safe gilt-edgedinvestments (which rarely succeed), and has to be helped while waitingfor something to turn up; it is the sister-in-law who is so firmlyconvinced that dear Clara (her brother's wife) is spoiling thechildren. But both escape; while many really charming old ladies, to whom their sons-in-law are devoted, continue to be riddled by theworld's satirical bullets. 

What is to be done about it? Nothing. Only the destruction of theinstitution of marriage could affect it. 

E. V. L. 

 * * * * *

=MY APOLOGIA. =

(_Lines accidentally omitted from a notorious volume of Memoirs. _)

 If life is dull and day by day I see that wittier, wiser England where I was wont to play (Being as bold as I was gay) Keep passing rapidly away All through the German KAISER;

 If "Souls" are not the things they were, If caste declines and Vandals Go practically everywhere From Cavendish to Berkeley Square, And dowdy frumps without the "air" Monopolise the scandals;

 There is but one thing left to do-- And what's a sporting flutter worth Unless one takes a risk or two?-- "I'll shock the world, " I thought, "anew, " And (ultimately) did so through The firm of THORNTON BUTTERWORTH. 

 Two worlds indeed. The mighty West Poured out her untold money To gaze upon my palimpsest; I think that Codex A was best, But parts of this have been suppressed; Publishers are so funny. 

 And now my fame through London rings In well-bred speech and _argot_; At mild suburban tea-makings The postman knocks, and poor dear things Tear wildly at the parcel-strings When MUDIE gives them MARGOT. 

 Pressmen have tried to make a lot Out of a certain instance Of mild misstatement as to what Happened in 1914. Rot! All I can say is that my plot Has much more _verve_ than WINSTON'S. 

 Well, never mind. The work is done; People who do not need it-- The wit, the fire, the force, the fun, The pathos--let them simply shun This frightful book, shout "Shame!" and run; Nobody's _forced_ to read it. 

EVOE. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: _Dentist (after preliminary inspection). _"EXTRAORDINARY THING--THERE'S ONE OF YOUR TEETH ONLY HALF STOPPED. "

_Patient. _ "AH, THAT WERE T'OOTHER DENTIST. T' LAAD 'URT ME, SO AHGAVE 'IM A GOOD LICK IN T' JAW. "]

 * * * * *

=NOMEN, OMEN. =

(_By our Medical Correspondent. _)

No one who is interested in the possibilities of psycho-therapycan view without serious misgiving recent tendencies in artisticnomenclature. Some of us are old enough to remember when the trendwas in the direction of Italianisation; when FOLEY became SIGNOR FOLI;CAMPBELL, CAMPOBELLO, and an American from Brooklyn was transformedinto BROCCOLINI. The vogue of alien aliases has passed, but it mayreturn, and it is to guard against the formidable and deleteriousresults of its recrudescence that the following suggestions, arepropounded, not merely in the interests of Gongorism or of anintensive cultivation of syncretic euphuism, but in accordance withthe most approved conclusions of psycho-analytic research. 

It may be urged--and the objection is natural--that there can belittle danger of a relapse in view of the heroic and patrioticadhesion of some of our most distinguished artists to their homelypatronymics. No doubt the noble example of CLARA BUTT and CARRIE TUBBis fortifying and reassuring, and there are also clamant proofs thatdenationalisation is no passport to eminence. But it would be foolishto overlook the existence of powerful influences operating in anantipodal direction. I confess to a feeling approaching to dismay whenI study the advertisement columns of the daily papers and note therecurrence, in the announcements of impending concerts, of names ofa strangely outlandish and exotic form. In a single issue I haveencountered KRISH, ARRAU, KOUNS and DINH GILLY. The Christian names ofsome of these eminent performers are equally momentous and perturbing, _e. G. _, JASCHA, KOFZA and UTT. 

My grounds for perturbation are not imaginary or based on thehallucinations of a hypersensitive mind. They are prompted andjustified by the notorious facts, established by the leadingpsycho-analysts, that, just as mellifluous and melodious namesexercise a mollifying influence on the activities of the sub-consciousself, so the possession or choice of strange or ferocious appellationsincites the bearer, if I may be permitted to use so commonplace aterm, to live up to his label. 

It is therefore with all the force at my command that I entreat andimplore singers, players and dancers to think, not once but twice orthrice, before they yield to the fascination of the unfamiliar andadopt artistic pseudonyms calculated to intensify the "urges" oftheir primitive instincts. It is not too much to say that a singerwho deliberately assumes the name of Pongo, Og or Botuloffsky runs aserious risk, in virtue of the inherent magic of names, of developingqualities wholly unfitted for the atmosphere of a well-conductedconcert-hall. 

I believe that the question of establishing a censorship of artists'names has been seriously considered by Dr. ADDISON, in view of itsbearing on public hygiene, and that he estimates the cost of staffingthe new department as not likely to exceed seven hundred and fiftythousand pounds a year. Still, in these days when State economy is soneedful, it would be better if the desired effect were attained by thepressure of enlightened public opinion rather than by the operationsof even so inexpensive a department as that contemplated by theMINISTER OF HEALTH. 

 * * * * *

=IN FLANDERS FIELDS. =

These famous verses, which originally appeared in _Punch_, December8th, 1915, being the work of a Canadian officer, Lieut. -ColonelMCCRAE, who fell in the War, have been subjected to so manyperversions--the latest in a letter to _The Times_ from a Minister ofthe Crown, where the closing lines are misquoted as follows:

 "If ye break faith with those of us who died, We shall not sleep, though poppies bloom in fields of France"--

that Mr. Punch thinks it would be well to reproduce them in theircorrect form:--

 In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. 

 We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. 

 Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. 

 * * * * *

=AT THE PLAY. =

"FÉDORA. "

It may or may not be well that the War has modified our estimate ofthe value of life; but it is a bad thing for the legitimate drama. Andin the case of _Fédora_ the bloody _régime_ of LENIN has so paledour memory of the terrors of Nihilism that SARDOU'S play seems almostfurther away from us than the tragedy of _Agamemnon_. In our callousincapacity to be thrilled by the ancient horrors of forty years ago wefall back on the satisfaction to be got out of the author's dexterityin the mechanics of his craft. 

And here the critic's judgment is also apt to be more cold-blooded. He recognises the crude improbability of certain details which areessential to the tragic development of the play. The death of _CountVladimir_ (accented on the first or second syllable according to thetemporary emotion of the speaker) was due to the discovery of a letterin an unlocked drawer where it could never possibly have been thrown, being an extremely private letter of assignation. The death of_Fédora_, again, was the direct result of a letter which shedespatched to Petersburg denouncing a man who proved, in the light offresh facts learned a few minutes later, to be the last (or last butone) that she would wish to injure. It is incredible that she shouldnot have hastened to send a second letter withdrawing her charge;"instead of which" she goes casually off on a honeymoon with hisbrother, and apparently never gives another thought to the matter tillit is fatally too late. 

However, I am not really concerned at this time of day with theimprobabilities of so well-established a tragedy, but only with themost recent interpretation of it. And let me say at once that, for thebest of reasons, I do not propose to compete with the erudition of myfellow-critics in the matter of previous interpreters, for I bring avirgin mind to my consideration of the merits of the present cast. 

_Fédora_ is the most exhausting test to which Miss MARIE LÖHR hasyet put her talent. The heroine's emotions are worked at top-pressurealmost throughout the play. At the very start she is torn withpassionate grief for the death of her lover and a still morepassionate desire to take vengeance on the man who killed him. Whenshe learns the unworthiness of the one and the justification of theother those emotions are instantly exchanged for a passionate worshipof the late object of her vengeance, to be followed by bitter remorsefor the harm she has done him and terror of the consequences when hecomes to know the truth. And so to suicide. 

I will confess that I was astonished at the power with which Miss LÖHRmet these exigent demands upon her emotional forces. It was indeed aremarkable performance. My only reservation is that in one passageshe was too anxious to convey to the audience the intensity of herremorse, when it was a first necessity that she should conceal itfrom the other actor on the stage. It was nice and loyal of Mr. BASILRATHBONE to behave as if he didn't notice anything unusual, but itmust have been as patent to him as to us. 

Of his _Loris_ I cannot say too much in admiration. At first Mr. RATHBONE seemed a little stiff in his admirably-fitting dress-clothes, but in the last scene he moved through those swift changes ofemotion--from joy to grief, from rage to pity and the final anguishand horror--with extraordinary imagination and resource. 

Of the others, Mr. ALLAN AYNESWORTH, as _Jean de Siriex_, played ina quiet and assured undertone that served to correct the ratherexpansive methods of Miss ELLIS JEFFREYS, whose humour, alwaysdelightful, afforded a little more relief than was perhaps consistentwith the author's designs and her own dignity as a great lady in theperson of the _Countess Olga_. 

O. S. 

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A Matinée in aid of the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Childrenwill be given at the Garrick Theatre on Wednesday, November 17th, at 2. 30, when a comedy by Mr. LOUIS N. PARKER will be presented, entitled, _Pomander Walk_ (period 1805). 

It is hoped that at the Alhambra Matinée on November 16th one thousandpounds will be raised to complete the special pension fund for actors, which is to be a tribute of affection to the memory of Mr. SYDNEYVALENTINE, who, in the words of Mr. MCKINNEL, "did more for the rankand file of the theatrical profession than any actor, living or dead. "

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="The Dog it was who Died. "=

 "At Dovey Board of Conservators at Barmouth it was decided to ask Major Dd. Davies to hunt the district with his otter hounds, and failing this the water bailiffs themselves should attempt to stamp them out. "--_Welsh Paper. _

Major DD. DAVIES' answer is not known to us, but we assume that hesaid, "Well, I'm Dd. "

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 "Royal Surrey Theatre. Grand Opera. To-night, 8, Cav. And Pag. "--_Daily Paper. _

More evidence of the paper-shortage. 

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[Illustration: _Affluent Sportsman (after a long blank draw). _ "NOW IBET YOU WE'LL FIND AS SOON AS I LIGHT ONE OF MY HALF-DOLLAR CIGARS. "_Friend. _ "DON'T YOU THINK WE MIGHT MAKE A CERTAINTY OF IT IF I LITONE TOO?"]

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=OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. =

(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks. _)

I do not think that even the most phlegmatic of Englishmen couldread _Francis and Riversdale Grenfell: a Memoir_ (NELSON) without aquickening of the pulses. This is not to suggest that Mr. JOHN BUCHANhas sought to make an emotional appeal--indeed he has told the taleof these devoted brothers with a simplicity beyond praise--but it isa tale so fine that it must fill the heart, even of those who werestrangers to them, with joy and pride. I beg you to read the memoirfor yourselves, and see how and why it was that these twin brothers, from Eton onwards, radiated cheerfulness and a happy keenness whereverthey went. "Neither, " Mr. BUCHAN writes, "could be angry for long, andneither was capable of harshness or rancour. Their endearing grace ofmanner made a pleasant warmth in any society which they entered; andsince this gentleness was joined to a perpetual glow of enthusiasmthe effect was triumphant. One's recollection was of something lithe, alert, eager, like a finely-bred greyhound. " Those of us who were notpersonally acquainted with FRANCIS and RIVERSDALE GRENFELL will, afterreading this Memoir and the Preface by their uncle, Field-Marshal LordGRENFELL, seem to know them intimately. FRANCIS won the first V. C. Gained in the War, but when he read the announcement of it in _TheGazette_ his brother was already killed and his joy of life wasquenched. "I feel, " he wrote to his uncle, "that I know so many whohave done and are doing so much more than I have been able to dofor England. I also feel very strongly that any honour belongs to myregiment and not to me. " In that spirit he met his death a few monthslater. In work and sport, in war or peace, the twins were ardent, generous and brave, and their deaths were as glorious as their liveswere gracious and radiant. The profits of Mr. BUCHAN'S book are tobe devoted to the funds of the Invalid Children's Aid Association, inwhich the brothers were deeply interested. 

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There are certain tasks which, like virtue, carry their reward withthem. No doubt Miss ELEANOUR SINCLAIR ROHDE would be gratified ifher book, _A Garden of Herbs_ (LEE WARNER), were to pass into severaleditions--as I trust it will--and receive commendation on everyhand--as it surely must--but such results would be irrelevancies. Shehas already, I am convinced, tasted so much delight in the makingof this, the most fragrant book that I ever read, in her delving andselecting, that nothing else matters. Not only is the book fragrantfrom cover to cover, but it is practical too. It tells us howour ancestors of not so many generations ago--in Stuart timeschiefly--went to the herb garden as we go to the chemist's and theperfumer's and the spice-box, and gave that part of the demesne muchof the honour which we reserve for the rock-garden, the herbaceousborders and the pergola. And no wonder, when from the herbs that growthere you can make so many of the lenitives of life--from elecampanea sovran tonic, and from purslane an assured appetiser, and frommarjoram a pungent tea, and from wood-sorrel a wholesome water-gruel, and from gillyflowers "a comfortable cordial to cheer the heart, " andfrom thyme an eye-lotion that will "enable one to see the fairies. "Miss ROHDE tells us all, intermingling her information with mottoesfrom old writers and new. Sometimes she even tells too much, for, though she says nothing as to how lovage got its pretty name, we aretold that "lovage should be sown in March in any good garden soil. "Did we need to be told that? Is it not a rule of life? "In the Springa young man's fancy.... "

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To my mind, amongst the least forgettable books of the present yearwill be that to which Mr. SETON GORDON, F. Z. S. , has given the titleof _The Land of the Hills and the Glens_ (CASSELL). Mr. GORDON hasalready a considerable reputation as a chronicler of the birdsand beasts (especially the less approachable birds) of his nativeHighlands. The present volume is chiefly the result of spare-momentactivities during his service as coast-watcher among the Hebrides. Despite its unpropitious title, I must describe it without hyperboleas a production of wonder and delight. Of its forty-eight photographicillustrations not one is short of amazing. We are become used to fineachievement in this kind, but I am inclined to think Mr. GORDON goesone better, both in the "atmosphere" of his mountain pictures and inhis studies of birds at home upon their nests. To judge, indeed, by the unruffled domesticity of these latter, one would suppose Mr. GORDON to have been regarded less as the prying ornithologist than asthe trusted family photographer. I except the golden eagle, last ofEuropean autocrats, whose greeting appears always as a super-imperialscowl. Chiefly these happy results seem to have been due to a triumphof patient camouflage, concerning which the author suggests theinteresting theory that birds do not count beyond unity, _i. E. _, if two stalkers enter an ambush and one subsequently emerges, thevigilance of the feathered watchers is immediately relaxed. Shouldthis be true, I can only hope that Mr. GORDON will get in another bookbefore the spread of higher education increases his difficulties. 

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I should be inclined to call Mr. NORMAN DOUGLAS our only example ofthe romantic satirist, though, unless you have some previous knowledgeof his work, I almost despair of condensing the significance of thisinto a paragraph. For one thing the mere exuberance of his imaginationis a rare refreshment in this restricted age. His latest book, with the stimulating title of _They Went_ (CHAPMAN AND HALL), is anadmirable example of this. Certainly no one else could have createdthis exotic city with its painted palaces and copper-encrusted towers, a vision of sea-mists and rainbows; or peopled it with so iridescent acompany--the strange princess; the queen, her mother; the senile kingwho should have been (but wasn't) her father; _Theophilus_, the Greekartist; the philosophic old Druidess, and the dwarfs who "chantedsqueaky hymns amid sacrifices of mushrooms and gold-dust. " Perhapsthis random quotation may hint at the fantastic nature of the tale;it can give no idea of the intelligence that directs it, mocking, iconoclastic, almost violently individual. Plot, I fancy, seldomtroubles Mr. DOUGLAS greatly; it happens, or it does not. Meanwhilehe is far more concerned in fitting a double meaning (at least) to themost simple-sounding phrase. To sum up, _They Went_ is perhaps notfor idle, certainly not for unintelligent, reading; for those whocan appreciate quality in a strange guise it will provide a feast ofunfamiliar flavours that may well create an appetite for more. 

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That clever writer, Mr. A. P. HERBERT, would lightly describe hisstory, _The House by the River_ (METHUEN), as a "shocker. " Butthere are ways and ways of shocking. He might wish to show us theembarrassments of a fairly respectable member of the intellectualclasses, living in a highly respectable environment, when he findsthat he has committed homicide; and he might make the details asgruesome as he liked. But there was no need to shock the sensitivewhen he made his choice of the circumstances in which the poet, _Stephen Byrne_, inadvertently throttles his housemaid. It is afault, too, that his scheme only interests him so far as it concerns_Stephen_ and his society, and that the horror of the tragedy fromwhat one may loosely call the victim's point of view does not seem toaffect him at all. Otherwise, even for the sake of brevity, he couldnot so flippantly refer to the body, sewn in a sack and thrown intothe river, as just "Eliza. " He may argue that he never thought of thecorpse as a real one and that the whole thing was merely an experimentin imaginative art; but his details are too well realised for that, and so is his admirable picture of the society of Hammerton Chase, W. , a thin disguise for a riverside neighbourhood easy to recognise. I could never get myself quite to believe that _Stephen's_ friend, _Egerton_, accessory after the fact, would so long and so tamely haveborne the suspicion of it; but for the rest Mr. HERBERT'S study of hismilieu shows a very intimate observation. If his _Stephen_, inwhom the highest poetic talents are found tainted with a touchof coarseness, may not always be credible, the passion forself-expression which leads him on to versify his own experience inthe form of a mediæval idyll, and so give himself away, is true tolife. But my final impression of Mr. HERBERT'S book--he will perhapsthink I am taking him too seriously--is that his many gifts andnotably his humour, whose gaiety I prefer to its grimness, are hereexercised on a rather unworthy theme. 

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[Illustration: MARTYRS OF SCIENCE:--THE INVENTOR OF TOFFEE. ]

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=Fashions for Proxy-Fathers. =

 "The bride entered the church on the arm of Mr. T. ----, of Happy Valley (who acted in loco parentis and was charmingly attired in crepe-de-chine). "--_South African Paper. _

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 "Is there anyone amongst the thousands of men who will benefit who will be some an (please let the word remain, Mr. Editor) as not to show his appreciation in the same way?"--_Educational Paper. _

Personally we think the Editor was a little too complaisant. 

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[Transcriber's Note:

Page 361: Changed "corresponent" to "correspondent"

(A corresponent writes to a contemporary)

Page 362: Removed extraneous single closing quote. 

("Sir Harry Johnston's 'The Gay Donkeys' has passed its fifth edition in London. '"--_Australian Magazine_. )

Page 368: Changed "Pulman" to "Pullman"

(a ticket for a seat in the Pulman car)]