Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152, February 28, 1917 by Various
V >>
Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152, February 28, 1917
We learned how each new litter
That came to Flip or Fan
Grew finer and grew fitter
With tea-leaves in the bran;
We learned which stalks were milky
And which were merely tough,
What grass was good for Silky
And what was good for Fluff.
Such moral mild up-bringing
Now makes me much distressed
When little necks need wringing
And little paws protest,
Lest wraiths from empty hutches
Should haunt me, hung in pairs,
And ghosts--'tis here it touches--
Of happy Belgian hares.
However, with my morals
I manfully shall cope,
And back my country's quarrels,
But none the less I hope
Before poor Bunny's taken
As stuff for knife and fork
The hedge-hog will be bacon,
The guinea-pig be pork.
W.H.O.
* * * * *
PROBLEMS FOR PETROLEUSES.
The Metropolitan Commissioner of Police having decided to sanction women
taxicab drivers, we understand that all applicants for licences will be
required to pass a severe examination in "knowledge of London." As,
however, this will be concerned mainly with localities and quickest routes,
we venture to suggest to the examiners a few supplementary questions of a
more general character:--
(I.) How far should a cab-wheel revolving at fifteen miles an hour, be able
to fling a pint of London mud?
(II.) Has a pedestrian any right to cross a road? and, if so, how much?
(III.) With three toots of an ordinary motor-horn indicate the
following:--(_a_) contempt, (_b_) rage, (_c_) homicidal mania.
(IV.) Under what circumstances, if any, should the words "Thank you" be
employed?
(V.) Having been engaged at 11.35 P.M. to drive an elderly gentleman,
wearing a fur-coat, to Golder's Green, you are tendered the legal fare
plus twopence. Express, within ladylike limits, your appreciation of
this generosity.
(VI.) On subsequently discovering the same gentleman to be a member of the
Petrol Control Committee, revise your answer accordingly.
(VII.) Sketch, within ten sheets of MS., your idea of a becoming and
serviceable uniform for a lady-driver.
(VIII.) Who said, and in what connection--
"The hand that stops the traffic rules the world"?
"This flag shall not be lowered at the bidding of an alien"?
(IX.) At the top of St. James's Street you are hailed simultaneously by two
spinster ladies with hand luggage, wishing to be driven to Euston, and by a
single unencumbered gentleman whose destination is the Savoy Grill. Well?
(X.) At what hour do performances at the London theatres end, and which do
you consider the best places of concealment in which to secrete yourself at
that time?
(XI.) What would be your correct procedure on receiving a simple direction
to "The Palace" from--
(a) The PRIME MINISTER?
(b) The Bishop of LONDON?
(c) Any Second-Lieutenant?
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Old Lady_ (_buying records to send to France--to assistant
in Gramophone Department_).
"IF THAT ONE IS THE SONG CALLED, 'THERE'S A SHIP THAT'S BOUND FOR BLIGHTY,'
I'LL TAKE IT. BUT WILL YOU FIRST LET ME KNOW IF IT CONTAINS ANY INFORMATION
WHICH COULD BE OF ADVANTAGE TO THE ENEMY?"]
* * * * *
A PROPHET OF EVIL.
"SIR EDWARD CARSON ON THE ADMIRALTY'S NEW FIGHTING POLICY.
'IT CAN AND WILL BE DEFEATED.'"--_Headlines in_ "_The Daily
Chronicle_."
* * * * *
From an official circular relating to the British Industries Fair:--
"Information regarding the best means of reaching the Fair from all
parts of London will be obtainable at the Fair, but will not be
available before the opening day."
You must get there first, if you want to be told how to get there.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Vicar_ (_to Mrs. Bloggs, who has been describing the
insulting behaviour of the lady next door_). "WELL, WELL, IT MUST BE MOST
UNPLEASANT BEING SHOUTED AT OVER THE WALL, BUT I SUPPOSE THE BEST THING IS
TO TAKE NO NOTICE."
_Mrs. Bloggs_. "THAT'S WHAT I SHOULD LIKE TO DO, SIR. BUT O' COURSE I 'AS
TO GIVE 'ER A ANSWER BACK NOW AND AGAIN--JUST TO KEEP THE PEACE, LIKE."]
* * * * *
THE ACTING BOMBARDIER.
When JOOLIUS CAESAR took 'is guns along the pavvy road
An' strafed the bloomin' 'eathens on the Rhine,
The men 'oo did 'is dirty work an' bore the 'eavy load
Was the men 'ose job did correspond to mine.
When NAP. dug in 'is swossung-kangs be'ind the ugly Fosse
And made the Prooshians sweat their souls with fear,
The men 'oo 'elped 'im most of all to slip it well across
Was the men with actin' rank o' bombardier.
Oh, the Colonel strafes the Old Man, an' 'e strafes the Capting too,
Then to the subs the 'eavy language flows;
They comes an' calls their Numbers One an inefficient crew
An' down it comes to junior N.C.O.'s;
An' then the B.S.M. chips in an' gives 'em 'oly 'ell,
An' the full edition's poured into the ear
Of the man that's got to be ubeek (an' you be--blest as well),
The man with actin' rank o' bombardier.
Or, if there's nothin' doin' of a winter afternoon,
The Old Man's at 'eadquarters 'avin' tea,
The section subs is feedin' up with oysters in Bethoon,
The Capting's snorin' out at the O.P.;
The Sergeant-Major's cleaned 'is teeth an' gone a prommynard,
The N.C.O.s is somewhere drinkin' beer,
An' the man they've left to work an' drill an' grouse an' mount the guard
Is of course your 'umble actin' bombardier.
Oh, I'm the man that takes fatigues for bringin' stores at night,
Conductin' G.S. wagons in the snow,
An' I'm the man that scrounges round to keep the 'ome fires bright
("An' don't you bloomin' well be pinched, you know");
An' I'm the man that lashes F.P.1.'s up to the gun,
An' acts the nursemaid 'alf the ruddy day;
An' fifty other little jobs that ain't exactly fun
Accompany one stripe (without the pay).
But no, we never grouses in the Roy'l Artillerie,
Of cheerful things to think there's quite a lot;
Old Sergeant Blobbs is goin' 'ome the end of Februree
To do instructin' stunts at Aldershot;
The S.M.'s recommended ('Eavens!) for commissioned rank,
An' little changes means a step up 'ere,
So if I keep me temper an' go easy with vang blank,
I'll soon drop "_actin_'" off the "bombardier."
* * * * *
[Illustration: WHO FOLLOWS?]
* * * * *
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
[Illustration: OPPOSITION APPROVAL OF THE NEW BOYS.
{ MR. WINSTON CHURCHILL (_patting Sir EDWARD CARSON on the back_) }
{ MR. HERBERT SAMUEL (_patting Mr. BONAR LAW on the back_) }
"HE'S BEEN TALKING SENSE."]
_Monday, February 19th_.--The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER announced that
the "new money" subscribed for the War Loan amounted to at least seven
hundred millions. Being a modest man he refrained from saying, "A loan, I
did it," though it was largely due to his faith in the generosity and good
sense of his fellow-citizens that the rate of interest was not more onerous
to the State.
Mr. LYNCH thinks it would be a good idea if Ireland were specially
represented at the Peace Conference, in order that her delegates might
assert her right to self-government. I dare say, if pressed, he would be
prepared to nominate at least one of her representatives. Having regard to
the Nationalist attitude towards military service Mr. BALFOUR might have
retorted that only belligerents would be represented at the Peace
Conference, but he contented himself with a simple negative.
There is an erroneous impression that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE sits in his private
room scheming out new Departments and murmuring like the gentleman in the
advertisement of the elastic bookcase, "How beautifully it grows!" Up to
the present, however, there are only thirty-three actual Ministers of the
Crown, not counting such small fry as Under-Secretaries, and their salaries
merely amount to the trifle of L133,500. It is pleasant to learn that a
branch of the Shipping Controller's department is appropriately housed in
the Lake Dwellings in St. James's Park; and, in view of Mr. KING'S
objection that the members of the Secret Service with whom he has come into
contact make no sort of secret about their business (one pictures them
confiding in this gentleman), it is expected that the Board of Works will
shortly commandeer a strip of Tube Railway to conceal them in.
_Tuesday, February 20th_.--In one respect the two representatives of the
War Office in the House of Commons are singularly alike. When answering
their daily catechism both wear spectacles--Mr. FORSTER an ordinary
gold-rimmed pair, Mr. MACPHERSON the fearsome tortoise-shell variety which
gives an air of antiquity to the most youthful countenance; and each, when
he has to answer an awkward "supplementary," begins by carefully taking off
his glasses and so giving himself an extra moment or two to frame a telling
reply.
This afternoon Mr. MACPHERSON'S spectacles were on and off half-a-dozen
times as he withstood an assault directed from various quarters against the
refusal of the War Office to admit the profession of "manipulative surgery"
to the Army Medical Service. In vain he was informed of wonderful cures
effected by this means on generals and admirals, and even members of the
Government; in vain Mr. LYNCH sought from him an admission that the life of
one private soldier was more valuable than that of the two Front Benches
put together. All these attempts at manipulative surgery quite failed to
reduce Mr. MACPHERSON'S obstinate stiff neck; and at last the SPEAKER had
to intervene to stop the treatment.
The persistence with which a little knot of Members below the Gangway
advances the proposition that all Germany is longing to make an honourable
peace, and that it is only the insatiate ambition of the Allies which
stands in the way, would be pathetic if it were not mischievous. Mr.
PONSONBY, Mr. TREVELYAN, and Mr. SNOWDEN once more argued this hopeless
case with a good deal of varied ability. A small house listened politely,
but was more impressed by a masterly expose of the facts by Mr. RONALD
M'NEILL, and an Imperialist slogan by Sir HAMAR GREENWOOD; while later in
the debate Mr. BONAR LAW restated the national aims in the War with a
cogency that drew from Mr. SAMUEL a generous pledge "on behalf of those who
sit opposite the Government" to give Ministers their whole-hearted support.
_Wednesday, February 21st_.--The House learned with satisfaction that crews
of our river gun-boats in Mesopotamia are to get their hard-lying money;
and when the authors of the Turkish _communiques_ hear of it they are
expected to put in a similar claim.
Lord FISHER was in his customary place over the Clock--his friends all tell
us that he is superior to Time; Lord BERESFORD was at a suitable--I had
almost said respectful--distance from him in the Peers' Gallery; and
conspicuous among the Distinguished Strangers was Sir JOHN JELLICOE. They
and all of us listened intently while for over an hour Sir EDWARD CARSON,
now as much at home on the quarter-deck as ever he was at quarter sessions,
discoursed eloquently and frankly on the wonderful and never-ending work of
the Senior Service.
He did not underestimate the danger of the submarines, or pretend that the
Admiralty had yet discovered any sovran remedy for their attacks. Nor could
he say--for reasons which seemed to satisfy the House--how many of them had
already been captured or sunk. But he told us enough to convict Admiral VON
CAPELLE, who was at that moment declaring that not a single U-boat had been
lost since the opening of the new campaign, of being either singularly
misinformed or highly imaginative.
_Thursday, February 22nd_.--A strange sympathy seems to exist between the
SPEAKER and Mr. GINNELL. Each, I fancy, has a soft spot somewhere. Mr.
LOWTHER'S is in his heart, and makes him go out of his way to help the
wayward Member for North Westmeath. Mr. GINNELL, whose soft spot seems to
be higher up, wanted to show that he did not approve of Mr. MACPHERSON, and
called him an impertinent Minister. Ordered to withdraw the expression, he
substituted "impudent." That would not do either, and there seemed danger
of a deadlock and another expulsion until Mr. LOWTHER suggested that
"incorrect" was a Parliamentary epithet which might suit the hon. Member's
purpose. Mr. GINNELL handsomely accepted this variation in the spirit in
which it was offered.
Sir GEORGE CAVE is the Ministerial maid-of-all-work. Whenever there is a
disagreeable or awkward measure to introduce it falls to the Quite-at-Home
Secretary, if I may borrow an expression coined by my friend, TOBY, M.P.,
for one of Sir GEORGE'S predecessors. So judiciously did he accentuate the
good points and soften the possible asperities of the National Service Bill
that even Sir CHARLES HOBHOUSE, who had come to condemn, remained to bless.
_Friday, February 23rd_.--Owing to a variety of causes, we are short of
tonnage, and unless we manage to grow more and consume less we shall before
very long be within reach of the gaunt finger of Famine. That was the
burden of the PRIME MINISTER'S appeal to the Nation. The farmer is to have
a guaranteed minimum price for his produce, the agricultural labourer is to
be raised to comparative affluence by a minimum wage of 25_s._ a week, and
the rest of us are to go without most of our imported luxuries and a good
many necessities. So impressed were Members by the gloominess of the
prospect that the moment the speech was over they rushed out to secure what
they felt might be their last really substantial luncheon, and Mr. DAVID
MASON, who had nobly essayed to fill the breach caused by Mr. ASQUITH'S
absence, was soon talking to empty benches.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Big 'Un._ "MY DEAR FELLOW! IS IT REALLY TRUE THAT YOU
HAVE TO JOIN UP?"
_The Little 'Un._ "YES; BUT DON'T LET IT GET ABOUT. YOU SEE, THE IDEA IS TO
SPRING IT ON THE GERMANS, AS IT WERE, IN MARCH."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: ACROBAT, HAVING BEEN OFFICIALLY INFORMED THAT HE BELONGS TO
ONE OF THE NON-ESSENTIAL PROFESSIONS, DETERMINES NEVERTHELESS TO DEVOTE HIS
TALENT TO THE CAUSE OF HIS SUFFERING FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN.]
* * * * *
THE COMPLIMENT.
We all know the man with a grievance and avoid him. But there is another
man with a grievance whom I rather like, and this is his story. I must, of
course, let him tell it in the first-person-singular, because otherwise
what is the use of having a grievance at all? The first-person-singular
narrative form is the grievance's compensation. Listen.
"I am an old Oxonian who joined the Royal Naval Division as an ordinary
seaman not long after the outbreak of the War, and being perhaps not too
physically vigorous and having a certain rhetorical gift, developed at the
Union, I was told off, after some months' training, to take part in a
recruiting campaign. We pursued the usual tactics. First a trumpeter
awakened the neighbourhood, very much as Mr. HAWTREY is aroused from his
coma in his delightful new play, and then the people drew round. One by one
we mounted whatever rostrum there was--a drinking fountain, say--and spoke
our little piece, urging the claims of country.
"As a rule the audience was either errand-boys, girls or old men; but we
did our best.
"Sometimes, however, there would be an evening meeting in a public
building, and then the proceedings were more formal and pretentious. The
trumpeter disappeared and a chairman would open the ball. The occasion of
which I am thinking was one of these meetings in the East End, where the
Chairman was a local tradesman. He said that this was a war for liberty and
that England could never sheathe the sword until Belgium was free; he told
the audience how many of his relations were fighting; and then he made way
for our gallant boys in blue who were to address the company.
"Well, we addressed the company, I by no means the least of the orators,
and then the Chairman wound up the meeting. He said how much he had enjoyed
the speeches and how much he hoped that they would bear good fruit; and
indeed he felt confident of that, because 'we 'ere in the East End are
plain straight-forward folk, who like plain straight-forward talk, and we
would rather listen to the honest 'omely sailors who 'ave been talking to
us this evening, than any fine Oxford gentleman.'"
That is the story of my friend with a grievance. And yet, now I come to
think about it again, and his manner of telling it, I'm not sure I ought
not rather to call him a man with a triumph.
* * * * *
"Farmer's Daughter wanted, to learn daughter Cheddar cheesemaking for 1
month, from March 25th; 25 cows; treated as family."--_Bristol Times
and Mirror_.
A little less than kin and more than kine.
* * * * *
"Washington, Thursday.
The representatives of thirty leading American railways have agreed
virtually to an embargo on eastern shipments of freight for export
until the present congestion on the eastern sideboard is
relieved."--_Evening Standard_.
This is all very well for the Americans, but what we are concerned about is
the depletion of our own sideboard.
* * * * *
From an official advertisement in favour of tillage:--
"An acre of Oats will
feed for a week . . 100 people.
An acre of Potatoes . 200 "
" " of Beef . . 8 " "--_Irish Times_.
We understand that Lord DEVONPORT accepts no responsibility for the last
statement.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Father_. "YOU'RE VERY BACKWARD. THERE'S NORMAN SMITHERS,
THE SAME AGE AS YOU, AND HE'S TWO FORMS HIGHER. AREN'T YOU ASHAMED?"
_Hopeful_. "NO. HE CAN'T HELP IT--IT'S HEREDITARY."]
* * * * *
THE MAMMAL-SAURIAN WAR.
A PARABLE OF GERMANY'S COLONIES.
Long ages ere the Age of Man,
While yet this earthly crust was thinnish,
The War of Might and Right began,
Proceeding swiftly to a finish;
And this provides in many ways
An object-lesson nowadays.
The Saurians, clad in coats of mail,
Shone with a most attractive lustre;
Strong claws, long limbs, a longer tail--
They pinned their faith to bulk and bluster;
They laid their eggs in every land
And hid them deftly in the sand.
The Mammals, small as yet and few,
Relying less on scales and muscles,
Developed diaphragms, and grew
Non-nucleated red corpuscles;
They walked more nimbly on their legs
And learnt the art of sucking eggs.
The Saurians, spoiling for a fight,
Went off in high explosive fashion;
They lashed themselves to left and right
Into a pre-historic passion;
The Mammals, on the other hand,
Ate all their eggs up in the sand.
Those precious eggs, a source of pride
On which the Saurian hopes depended,
Kept all their enemies supplied
With life by which their own was ended;
And where they fondly hoped to spread
The Mammals lived and throve instead.
And so the Saurians passed from view,
Leaving behind the faintest traces,
No longer bent on hacking through,
Though looking still for sunny places;
Dwarfed to a more convenient size
They spend their time in catching flies.
* * * * *
THE NON-STOP LINGUIST.
"To O.C. ... From ... Brigade. ---- Corps requires services of an
officer who can speak Italian fluently for four or five days."
* * * * *
"Under the auspices of the Women's Reform Club, a Ladies' Fancy Dress
Ball will be held at the Residential Club, Main Street. No Gentlemen.
No Wallflowers. Ladies may appear in mail attire."--_Bulawayo
Chronicle_.
In their "knighties," so to speak?
* * * * *
ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY.
"Bosley and district churchmen have thus a gaol set before them which
it should be and, no doubt, will be their aim to reach as soon as
possible."--_Congleton Chronicle_.
* * * * *
"A few minutes later, with his suit-case in one hand and his
type-writer in the other, he let himself out at the
front-door,"--_Munsey's Magazine_.
Another case of the Hidden Hand.
* * * * *
"Horse (vanner), thick set, 16 hands, 7 years, master 2 tons, reason
sale, requires care when taken out of harness."--_Birmingham Daily
Mail_.
Any horse might be excused for kicking up his heels on getting rid of a
master of that weight.
* * * * *
"Furnished room wanted; preferable where chicken run."--_Enfield
Gazette_.
Our landlady won't let us keep even a canary in ours.
* * * * *
"BARONY UNITED FREE CHURCH.--Special Lecture--'The Great War Novel, Mr.
Bristling Sees it Through.'"_--Glasgow Evening News_.
Mr. WELLS ought to have thought of this.
* * * * *
HELPING LORD DEVONPORT.
"Francesca," I said, "what are you doing to help Lord DEVONPORT?"
"Lots of things," she said. "For one thing, we're living under his
ration-scheme, and we're doing it pretty well, thank you."
"Yes, I know," I said; "I've heard you mention it once or twice. It seems
to consist very largely of rissoles and that kind of food."
"Well," she said, "we must use up everything; and, besides, you'd soon get
tired of beefsteak if I gave it to you every day."
"Tired of beefsteak?" I said. "Never. The toughest steak would always be a
joy to me."
"I've come to the conclusion," she said, "that men really like their
eatables tough."
"Yes, they want something they can bite into, you know."
"But you can't bite into our beefsteak, now can you?"
"Perhaps not," I said, "but you can't help feeling it's there, which is a
great help when you're being rationed."
"That," she said, "may be all very well for a man, but women don't care for
that feeling. They like their food light but stimulating."
"They do," I said, "and they prefer it all brought in on one tray and at
irregular hours. Lord DEVONPORT'S scheme is to them a sort of wicked
abundance. To a man it is--"
"Plenty and to spare," she said. "Why, you won't have to tighten your belt
even by one hole. Now admit, if you hadn't known you were being rationed
you'd never have found it out."
"I will admit," I said, "that if the privations we have suffered this last
week in the matter of beefsteaks and that kind of food are the worst that
can happen to us we shan't have much to complain of--but I should like a
chop to-night instead of a rissole."
"You can call it a chop if you like, but it's going to be a cutlet."
"Well, anyhow," I said, "we don't seem to be doing as much as we might for
Lord DEVONPORT."
"You're wrong," she said; "I'm keeping hens in the stable-yard."
"Hens? What do you know about hens?"
"For the matter of that, what do you?"
"That's not the question," I said, "but I'll answer it all the same. I know
that most hens are called Buff Orpingtons, and that they never lay any eggs
unless you put a china egg in their nest just to coax them along and rouse
their ambition. Francesca, have you put a china egg where our Buff
Orpingtons can see it?"
"Frederick is looking after these domestic details. He seems to think that
if he goes to the hen-house every ten minutes or so the laying of eggs will
be promoted. Won't you go round with him next time?"
"No," I said, "I've never seen a hen lay an egg yet, and I'm not going to
begin at my time of life. Besides, I've already said they never lay eggs
even when you don't watch them."
"Wrong again," she said. "We got one egg this morning."
"Francesca," I said, "this _is_ exciting. Did the happy mother announce the
event to the world in the usual way?"
"Yes, she screamed and cackled for about a quarter-of-an-hour, and
Frederick came along and seized the subject of her rejoicing. You're going
to have it to-night, boiled, instead of soup and fish."
"Isn't that splendid?" I said. "At this rate we shall soon be
self-supporting, and then we can snap our fingers at Lord DEVONPORT."
"I never snap my fingers," she said. "No well-brought-up hen-keeper ever
does. Besides, it's our duty to help the Government all we can, so that
Lord DEVONPORT may have so much more to play with."
"Why should he want to play with it?" I said. "He doesn't strike me as
being that kind of man at all."
"I daresay he plays in his off-hours."
"A man like that," I said, "hasn't any off-hours. He's chin-deep in his
work."
"Anyhow," she said, "I should like him to know that we're pulling up the
herbaceous border and planting it with potatoes, and that we've started
keeping hens, and that we've already got one egg, and that when the time
comes we shall not lack for chicken, roast or boiled."