Chapter 2

The Saturday before last I ventured to ask whether, if the hundred-and-fifty pounder always insisted on arriving two seconds before me, it wouldn't be possible to cash my cheque, which is a simple little thing, in one of the intervals during which, after sending to the cellars for more gold, they relapse into easy conversation; or, alternatively, if it was really necessary to pay a customer exactly the complicated bunches of monies he demanded; and, if so, whether it couldn't be done any quicker.

The answer proving unsatisfactory I determined to arrive earlier last Saturday. I made no mistake. I hung about the door of the bank for a quarter of an hour till I saw my rival approach. I came in just ahead of him, and presented my cheque. The cashier received it with his usual little smile and turned it over. Then his usual little smile left him and he set sadly to work.

The hundred-and-fifty pound man chafed and stamped his feet behind me for ten minutes, while I gloated. It was my day--my _Tag_.

I think you may like to know just in what shape I demanded the payment of my modest fifty shillings:--

_£_ _s._ _d._

1 0 0 in one pound notes. 0 10 0 in ten shilling notes. 0 10 0 in gold. 0 5 0 in shilling postal orders. 0 2 0 in threepenny bits. 0 0 9-1/2 in halfpennies. 0 1 10-1/4 in farthings. 0 0 4 in silver, if possible (otherwise stamps). 0 0 0-1/4 in pins. _______________ 2 10 0

* * * * *

Illustration: _ GERMAN KAISER. "LET US PREY."_

* * * * *

WAR DECLARATIONS.

"No, I don't mean that at all," said my wife hastily. "You quite misunderstand me. Of course everyone is to have as much, quite as much, food as he wants."

"Stop a bit. Does that mean as much as he likes?" I asked.

"Or as much as his system requires?" suggested the Reverend Henry.

"Or as much as he can contain?" demanded Sinclair. "It may seem to be a fine point, but I think we ought to have it cleared up."

The hostess resumed: "Everyone is to have as much as he likes, certainly. Of course he is. We are not going to be inhospitable. On the contrary, we are prepared to share our last crust. But there must be absolutely no waste."

There was a short pause. No one was inclined to demur to that proposition. The Reverend Henry alone had doubts.

"It is difficult at a time like this, you know," he began mildly, "to be quite certain that you are doing the right thing. If you stop all waste in your household are you sure that you may not be encouraging unemployment? If you don't waste biscuits it follows that fewer biscuits are made and therefore----"

The Reverend Henry was adjudged to be on the wrong tack and his protest was swept aside.

"Breakfast now," my wife began briskly, bringing into action her block of notepaper and fountain-pen. "All that I want to know--I wouldn't dream of stinting you--is--how much do you intend to eat?"

She looked round expectantly, the pen poised in her hand. There was rather an awkward pause. The question seemed at first blush a little indelicate. Sinclair tried to temporize.

"But wait a bit," he said. "Can't the servants manage to consume----"

"The servants breakfast long before you are up, Mr. Sinclair," my wife reminded him.

"It's perfectly simple," said I, suddenly taking the floor; "I think it an admirable idea, the essence of good citizenship. What we have got to do is to declare our appetites overnight so that every man eats the food he has booked and we make a clean sweep. Book me for two eggs and a kipper."

"Sorry there are no kippers to-morrow," said my wife. "Boiled eggs, bacon and kidneys and mushrooms."

"It would be wrong to suppose that I do not consider it a wise and indeed public-spirited idea in every way," said the Reverend Henry after some reflection, "but it is a little difficult, you know. It depends so much upon how one sleeps and what one feels like, and what sort of morning it is, and the letters that come, and the war news."

"And on the temperature of one's tub," added Sinclair. "For my part I eat a lot at breakfast. I don't feel that I have the face to advertise the whole catalogue in this sort of way. It's too cold-blooded. Besides, I fluctuate like anything."

"Come on," said I. "You fellows are simply trying to shirk the thing. I declare two eggs, no bacon and three mushrooms, assuming an average size for mushrooms. One cup and a half of coffee. Three lumps in all."

"Well, that's a fairly good lead," said Sinclair. "I propose to double you on mushrooms and I should like to be put down for a kidney. What about you, Henry?"

"Nothing but one rasher of bacon, please," said Henry meekly. "I am never hungry in the morning and I have always wanted to know how much bacon there is in a rasher. A single cup of tea, no sugar, but plenty of cream."

My wife had been writing busily. Now she looked up. "What about toast?" she enquired.

"You _are_ going into details," said Sinclair approvingly. "Doesn't it rather depend on the size of the slice? You may enter me for a couple of slices, three by two. And jam--no, marmalade. An ounce of marmalade."

"Do be quiet while I add it up," said my wife, for Sinclair was causing a lot of confusion by trying to barter a brace of mushrooms against my second egg (or at least to hold an option on the egg) in case he changed his mind before the morning. "And now I'll just send this to the kitchen, and then I'll go to bed."

It never really panned out well. On the first morning a very awkward thing happened. My wife, in her zeal to provide for her guests, had omitted to count herself in. We had to make a subscription for her, and it must be said that a splendid response was forthcoming, Sinclair nobly renouncing his kidney. But the result was that lunch had to be put half-an-hour earlier, and the day was disorganised.

On the second morning, the Rev. Henry was down early and bagged all my toast, while Sinclair, who had slept badly, refused to meet his obligations in the matter of kedjeree.

By the third day there was a good deal of unseemly barter and exchange going on, and Sinclair made a corner in eggs. "The trouble is," he explained, "that you never really know how good a thing is till you see it. Overnight a sardine on toast means nothing to me; and it was never announced that these eggs were going to be poached."

On the fourth day the scheme was tottering. Sinclair had actually been for a walk before breakfast and was consequently making an unsuccessful tour of the table in quest of extra toast. He then looked for the second time under the little blue blanket that keeps the eggs warm and peered disconsolately into the coffee pot. And then he struck.

"I'm afraid we shall have to chuck it," he announced. "We mean well, but it doesn't work."

My wife was a good deal taken aback, but Sinclair went on to prove his case.

"We are trying to avoid waste," he said. "Well, we may have eliminated a certain amount of--let us say _material_ waste, but we are causing, on the other hand, the most deplorable moral waste. Henry and I were simply not on speaking terms yesterday after he scooped my marmalade under my very nose, and as for Charles" (that is myself) "he is simply out for loot. He gets down before the gong. And this is essentially a time to heal all differences and stand shoulder to shoulder."

"But I can't have waste," said my wife, who likes to stick to her point. "If things are left over there is no one to eat them."

"It will give me great pleasure," the Reverend Henry broke in eagerly, "to present you with a couple of live pigs--the animal kind, I mean."

* * * * *

Illustration: CLOTHES OF THE PERIOD.

"I WANT SOME SMART COLLARS."

"YESSIR. MR. SIMPKINS, JUST BRING ME DOWN AN ASSORTMENT OF 'DIRIGIBLES' AND SOME 'SUPER-DREADNOUGHTS."

* * * * *

THE CENSOR HABIT.

Not the least disastrous circumstance for which this war must be held responsible is a certain misunderstanding arrived at between Phyllis and myself. Fortunately the sky is clearer now, but there was a time when the situation looked extremely ugly.

This is a copy of the letter I received from Phyllis a few days ago:--

"DEAR JACK,--So sorry for you that you couldn't pass the doctor. Have just heard from Leo for the first time. He left ---- on the ----, and after a satisfactory passage arrived at ----. They entrained soon after and are now in the neighbourhood of ----. What do you think? The ----s have occupied ----. Captain ---- sends his regards to you.

"Yours, with love, "PHYLLIS."

I only know one man in the regiment that Phyllis's brother adorns, and his name is Captain Nares. Even supposing that the name had been censored in Leo's letter, there could be no doubt as to the identity of the person to whom the writer referred.

So far as I could see there was one of two possibilities. Either Phyllis was involuntarily developing the Censor habit, or she was treating the exigencies of correspondence in war-time with a levity that in a future wife I firmly deprecated. Humour of this kind is all very well in its place; but these are not days in which we must smile without a serious reason. I determined to teach her a lesson.

"DEAR PHYLLIS," I wrote,--"Many thanks for Captain ----'s regards. I don't remember the name, but possibly we are acquainted. By the way, you remember that bracelet you so much admired in the window in ---- Street? I really could not let you go on breaking the Covet Commandment for ever, so I bought it yesterday. I don't like sending it through the post at this critical time, so if you will meet me at the corner of ---- Circus and ---- Street at ---- o'clock, on ---- night, I will bring it along.

"Yours ever, "JACK."

Knowing her as I do, I thought that this, if anything, would bring Phyllis to her senses. On the other hand, she appeared to look on it as a kind of challenge, and sent me the following reply:--

"DEAR JACK,--Thanks very much for your nice thought. But you must have mistaken the shop. I'll tell you why. Only this morning I was gazing at the very bracelet, when who should come up but ----. He's an awfully nice fellow, and very determined. When I told him what I was looking at, he actually suggested buying me the bracelet. Of course I said that no lady would dream of accepting a present like that, but he wouldn't hear of a refusal and simply pushed the darling thing into my hand. I am meeting him at the ----'s at luncheon on Friday. So sorry you won't be there.

"Yours ever, "PHYLLIS."

In reply to which I wrote:--

"DEAR PHYLLIS,--You'd better marry ----.

"JACK."

Phyllis wrote back:--

"Sorry, shan't be able to now. ---- has just been called up, and sails from ---- for ---- on ----. So perhaps you and I had better be engaged again. I'm longing for a bracelet.

"PHYLLIS."

There was only one way of answering this superb piece of impudence. I enclosed a blank sheet of paper to Phyllis, signifying my complete indifference.

Her still more negative answer was an envelope addressed to me with no enclosure at all.

To this I replied by not replying.

And here, by all the laws of sequence, our correspondence should have been brought to a standstill. I calculated, however, that when the postman delivered my phantom communication next morning Phyllis would not remain twiddling her thumbs for long.

Sure enough, about 9 A.M. I received this wire:

"Regret your letter of apology intercepted by Censor. Will take same for granted in consideration of war-time. All is forgiven. Call here this evening with bracelet.--PHYLLIS."

* * * * *

New Wisdom for Old.

_Grattez le Prusse, et vous trouvez le barbare._

* * * * *

Illustration: THE SUSPECT.

* * * * *

INFANTRY.

In Paris Town, in Paris Town--'twas neath an April sky-- I saw a regiment of the line go marching to Versailles; When white along the Bois there shone the chestnut's waxen cells, And the sun was winking on the long Lebels, _Flic flac, flic flac_, on all the long Lebels!

The flowers were out along the Bois, the leaves were overhead, And I saw a regiment of the line that swung in blue and red; The youth of things, the joy of things, they made my heart to beat, And the quick-step lilting and the tramp of feet! _Flic flac, flic flac_, the tramping of the feet!

The spikéd nuts have fallen and the leaf is dull and dry Since last I saw a regiment go marching to Versailles; And what's become of all of those that heard the music play? They trained them for the Frontier upon an August day; _Flic flac, flic flac_, all on an August day!

And some of them they stumbled on the slippery summer grass, And there they've left them lying with their faces to Alsace; The others--so they'd tell you--ere the chestnut's decked for Spring, Shall march beneath some linden trees to call upon a King; _Flic flac, flic flac_, to call upon a King.

* * * * *

AT THE PLAY.

"OUTCAST."

It is very fresh and delightful of Mr. H. H. DAVIES to regard seriously the love of a man for a maid. North of the river and west of Temple Bar it is the intrigues of the highly compromised middle-aged which are supposed to be most worthy of attention on the stage. But Mr. DAVIES (luckily) is never afraid of being young. So he starts us off with a picture of _Geoffrey_ in the clutches of drink and drugs just because _Valentine_ has jilted him. True that when _Valentine_ is finally married to another man _Geoffrey_ is still in love with her, and receives her at midnight in his rooms; but by this time Mr. DAVIES has given us three excellent Acts in his own best manner.

And these Acts are hardly concerned with the love of _Geoffrey_ for _Valentine_ at all, but with the relations between _Geoffrey_ and _Miriam_, a woman of the town. She is, like _Geoffrey_, an outcast; but she has all the good qualities which he lacks, and she is brave and loving enough to drag him from the pit into which he was sinking. He rewards her by chasing after _Valentine_ again (now tired of her husband)--and also by getting Mr. DAVIES, as I thought, a little way out of his element.

The solution of this less common triangle--man, mistress, other man's wife--I must leave to the author to reveal to you. Meanwhile I thank him for an absorbing play, in which the two chief characters were extremely well worked out. Perfectly played by Mr. GERALD DU MAURIER and Miss ETHEL LEVEY, they were two very human people.

By the way, in one respect _Outcast_ must easily break all records. Never have so many stage cigarettes been lit (and thrown away) in the course of an evening. I wish that somebody who reads this and is tempted to pay a visit to Wyndham's would let me know the full number. I began counting too late.

M.

* * * * *

Illustration: GOD (AND THE WOMEN) OUR SHIELD!

STUDY OF A GERMAN GENTLEMAN GOING INTO ACTION.

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

(EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.)

_House of Commons, Monday, August 31._--The peace in the Parliamentary arena which passed the understanding of the KAISER and went far to foil his plans, is temporarily broken.

Moving adjournment PREMIER reminded House of actual situation concerning Home Rule Bill and Welsh Disestablishment Bill. But for the outbreak of war Parliament would have been prorogued at least a fortnight ago and, by automatic procedure under Parliament Act, these measures would have been added to Statute Book. On outbreak of war political parties, amid plaudits of the Country, patriotically put aside partisan tactics and presented a united front to the common foe.

As PREMIER reminded House this afternoon, three weeks ago he declared desire that no party in any quarter of the House should gain advantage or should suffer prejudice from the temporary suspension of domestic controversy. When this was resumed, matters should be taken up and proceeded with exactly at the point and under the conditions at which they were left. The main feature of such conditions was the avowed intention of the Government to place the two Bills on Statute Book, hope being cherished of arrival at friendly settlement by means of Amending Bill.

This simple uncontrovertible statement of familiar facts quietly listened to. No note of contradiction broke the silence. BONAR LAW frankly accepted the situation as set forth by the PREMIER. Expressed hope that in the interval between adjournment and resumption of sittings some means would be found of avoiding renewal of controversy which he described as "a disgrace to the House," adding, amid general cheers, "The country will not readily forgive those who are responsible."

JOHN REDMOND assumed that if the proposal to reach a friendly settlement failed the intention of the Government to place the two Bills upon the Statute Book remained in force. This obvious assumption, based upon reiterated statements from the Treasury Bench, drew assenting cheer from Ministerialists.

It was here PRINCE ARTHUR interfered. Amid angry interruption he asked Members opposite to "consider whether it is possible decently to introduce subjects of acute political discussion in the present circumstances." Lively talk followed, showing that the bitterness of Home Rule controversy is not dead or even sleeping.

What might have developed into discreditable scene of the kind deprecated by PRINCE ARTHUR was averted by interposition Of the PREMIER. In gravest tone, "with all the solemnity I can command," he besought the House to bring the discussion to a close.

Appeal irresistible. House turned to disposal of remaining business, remaining at work till half-an-hour after midnight.

_Business done._--Adjourned till Wednesday in next week.

* * * * *

Illustration: OUR VILLAGE INFORMATION BUREAU.

_Postmaster (to lady who has handed in a telegram in French to a friend in Switzerland)._ "WE AIN'T ALLOWED TO ACCEPT FOREIGN TELEGRAMS, MISS. THERE'S A WAR ON--ON THE CONTINENT."

* * * * *

Heavy Work at the Front.

"I had been snatching an hour's rest _after a tiring day in the shade of a great pear tree_".--_"Evening News" War Correspondent. (Italics by Mr. Punch.)_

* * * * *

"How much the bravery of the Belgians is appreciated has found practical expression in ---- [London]. A Belgian hairdresser, who has been many years in business here, has found a very considerable increase in his turnover during the past week or two."

_West London Gazette._

One customer showed his appreciation by having his hair cut three times last week. But a subscription to the Belgian Relief Fund is perhaps the better way of doing it.

* * * * *

"Lord Hatherton has placed Teddesley Park at the disposal of the Penkridge Rifle Club, and offered himself as instructor in the use of the rifle."--_Standard._

The heading "Peer's House as Hospital" is perhaps a trifle offensive.

* * * * *

OUR OVERBURDENED HEROES.

THE "K. OF K." SMOKER'S COMPANION

Comprising two pipes, cigar holder, cigarette holder, pipecleaner, patent lighter, smoker's knife, pouch with silver plate for monogram, match box, and burning glass. All compactly contained in crocodile leather case.

_Price Three Guineas._

Should be in every officer's kit.

* * * * *

HAMMERSTEIN AND PUMMELOFF.

Genuine Offer to all Soldiers on Foreign Service.

SUPERB BOUDOIR GRAND PIANOS

_At 25 per cent. reduction._

Will just fit into a Bell tent.

With removable legs.

Can be also used as a bed or a billiard table.

* * * * *

THE COMBINED

REVOLVER, FLASK & TIN-OPENER.

Occupies no room. Invaluable in Camp and Action.

_Price_ £10.

Should be in every knapsack.

* * * * *

GNU-BOOT-EASE.

The invaluable Remedy on Long Marches.

_One Shilling per packet._

Should be in every Soldier's knapsack.

* * * * *

TO ALL WHO ARE GOING TO THE FRONT.

Don't start without one of DIPPER'S PANDEMONIUM GRAMOSCOPES.

Enlivens the Bivouac. Promotes Optimism.

_Price, during continuance of hostilities, 50 gns.; with special truck, 250 gns._

* * * * *

THE A1 PORTABLE KITCHENER.

With this compact and serviceable range a delicious hot meal can be cooked in a few minutes in whatever way is wished--by roasting, boiling, baking or grilling.

_Total weight, 8 lbs._

_Price Four Guineas._

Should be in every Soldier's knapsack.

* * * * *

THE "ROBERTS" TOILET SET.

Comprising 1 bottle refreshing dentifrice, 1 cake scented soap, 1 bottle Eau de Cologne (warranted made in England), 1 tube face cream. Neatly packed in art case.

_One Guinea._

A Charming Present for our Brave Lads or the French.

* * * * *

THE "IAN HAMILTON" SHOULDER BALM.

For bruises caused by recoiling rifles.

_5s. Tins at half price to every_ bonâ-fide _soldier._

No knapsack should be without it.

* * * * *

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

MESSRS. PUDELHEIMER AND JOSKINS, the Famous Art Dealers, Offer their Entire Stock of Horrifying Post-Impressionist and Futurist Pictures and Sculpture To Officers serving Abroad or on Home Defence.

_No reasonable offer refused._

No enemy can stand against them.

THE GOREY GALLERY, BOND STREET.

* * * * *

THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT ENDOWMENT SCHEME.

Jane's uncle--Jane is my daughter--came to me one day and said, "What do you think of my giving Jane a camera for her birthday? Wouldn't she be pleased? The advertisement says, 'Any babe can do it,' and she'll be ten."

"I have no doubt she'd be delighted," I said, "but there's a but. If you give it you must endow it."

"What do you mean?" said Jane's uncle.

"The camera's the least part of it," I replied. "For half-a-guinea you can cast a camera upon the world, but have you given a moment's consideration to that camera's means of support? No, I thought not. One more proof of the happy-go-lucky spirit of the present day. Yet you know that a camera has to be fed on plates, that it consumes quantities of poisonous acids, and expresses itself on reams of paper. It is altogether a desperate and spendthrift character. On whom do you suppose the cost of all this will fall?"

"On the employer, I should think," said Jane's uncle. "Doesn't Jane get pocket-money?"

"Threepence a week," I said. "Barely her share of the camera's insurance stamp. Jane being under age, any debts she may incur will devolve on me, and I am really not in a position to take on this responsibility. No, I repeat, if you give it you must endow it."

Jane's uncle meditated. Then he said, "Very well, I'll endow it to the extent of £1 a year, to be paid in quarterly instalments of 5s. each."

Jane was delighted with the scheme. She had never had five shillings to spend before, and was enthralled to find that it would buy not only paper and poisons and plates, but also a mackintosh coat for her camera. Then she took snapshots indoors and outdoors, at all times and in all weathers, with catholic indifference to subject and suitability.

"The book says one has to learn by experience," she said, showing me a pile of under-exposures. "This one of you is very good--the only pity is that I didn't get your head into the photo." This was one of many small details.

Jane looked forward feverishly to the payment of the second instalment.

"You'll have to put it by," I said. "You have plenty of paper and things left, haven't you?"

"Yes, but I want a dormouse."

"Oh, but that wouldn't be legal," I said. "That would be a misappropriation of trust funds."