Chapter 1

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

VOL. 146

APRIL 8, 1914.

CHARIVARIA.

"MR. ASQUITH CLEANS THE SLATE."

_Daily Chronicle._

The pity is that so many of his followers seem to prefer to slate the clean.

* * *

Even _The Nation_ is not quite satisfied with the Government, and has been alluding to "the extreme slackness of Cabinet methods," and complains that "situations are not thought out beforehand." The Government, apparently, is now taking the lesson to heart, for _H.M.S. Foresight_, we read, has now replaced _H.M.S. Pathfinder in_ Belfast Lough.

* * *

What the newspapers describe as "An unknown Botticelli" has just been sold by a celebrated firm of art dealers to an American gentleman, and it only remains to hope that the painting was not unknown to BOTTICELLI.

* * *

"A telegram from Toledo," says a contemporary, "reports the theft of three valuable pictures by the celebrated artist, El Greco." There must be some mistake here. Anyhow, at the time of his death, a good many years ago, this gentleman was not under suspicion.

* * *

The Christian Endeavour Union of Washington, alarmed at the spread of luxury, has launched a society whose members pledge themselves to wear no finery during Easter. Those members who hide baldness by means of elaborate coiffures might carry the idea further by appearing, for one week only, with heads like Easter eggs.

* * *

Whether it is due to the Suffrage movement or not it is difficult to say, but women are undoubtedly coming into their rights by degrees. By the provisions of the new Bankruptcy Act it is now possible for any married woman, whether trading apart from her husband or not, to be made a bankrupt.

* * *

In connection with the "Kensington Camp Week," when an effort is to be made to raise sufficient funds to establish and equip headquarters for the Kensington Reservists, a full-sized elephant has been chartered to ramble about the principal thoroughfares and collect money for the cause. To ensure success the sagacious quadruped is to be trained to step accidentally on the toes of those persons who ignore its appeal.

* * *

A correspondent writes to _The Observer_ complaining bitterly of the state of the morass leading to the Aerodrome at Hendon. This gentleman does not realise that there is a didactic purpose in the cause of his annoyance. Learn to fly and you will keep your boots clean.

* * *

* * *

A man has been sentenced at Barmen, Prussia, on three separate counts to terms of imprisonment totalling 175 years. It is proposed that all the proprietors of specifics for prolonging life shall be given a free hand to enable the prisoner to cope with his sentence.

* * *

All German actresses, whether married or single, are, in accordance with the ruling of the German Theatrical Union of Berlin, to be styled henceforth "Frau Schauspielerin," _i.e._ "Mrs. Actress." We are confident that this does not mean that those who are not married ought to be.

* * *

An advertisement from _The Times_:--"BIG GAME EXPEDITION. Private and public shooting. Polar bears, musk oxen, walrus and seals arranged." This is not so easy as it sounds, for, ten to one, as soon as you have got the beasts arranged one of those plaguey musk oxen will spoil the whole thing by moving out of its place.

* * *

A remarkable story is being told of the sagacity of a horse belonging to Captain WATSON, of Ardow, Mull. It lost a shoe, and, managing to get out of the field where it was grazing, travelled a considerable distance to a blacksmith, who was astonished to find the horse standing in front of the door holding up a fore-leg. The horse was shod, and then--we are afraid the rest of the story makes ugly reading--coolly galloped off without paying.

* * * * *

"After the annexation of Alsace by Germany the baron stayed some years in Paris, and became an intimate friend of Chopin."

_Andover Advertiser._

Never realising that CHOPIN had died more than twenty years before.

* * * * *

From a beauty specialist's advertisement:--

"How a poet of such a 'profound subtlety of instinct for the absolute expression of absolute natural beauty' as Keats could have penned the lines:--

'_Beauty is Fat, Fat Beauty. That is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know._'

must remain one of those unfathomable curiosities of the working of the human mind."

We hope the writer hasn't been bothering about it for long. The good news we have for him--that KEATS didn't--will remove a great weight from his mind.

* * * * *

"The bride's going away costume was of Parma violet cloth, with waistcoat effect, in brocaded silk. She wore, also, a large blue wolf, the gift of the bridegroom."

_Newcastle Evening Chronicle._

_Bride_. "Of course, dear, one is bound not to look a gift wolf in the mouth, but are you _sure_ the large blue ones don't bite?"

* * * * *

HOW TO GET ON OFF-HAND.

(_A New Way With Employers._)

The applicant for work is usually thrown into a state of nervous prostration by the difficulties that beset his task. By a perusal of the following hints he may learn to acquire an invulnerable calm, and if he follows the directions given he can reckon on surprising results.

Suppose the application is for clerical work.

When you are shown into the office of the employer he will probably be engaged with his correspondence. Do not stand meekly in front of him till he looks up and addresses you. This is playing into his hands. Instead, be perfectly at your ease. Make yourself at home. You might ring up one of your acquaintances on the telephone and have a little chat until the employer is disposed to interview you.

Possibly, however, he himself may be using the instrument. If so draw a seat to the desk and write any little note you may wish to. You will find writing materials handy. The stamps are usually kept in one of the small drawers to the right of the desk.

Either of these proceedings will show that you are used to an office and will create an impression on the employer. If you look at him you will see that it has done so.

If he stares at you and continues to stare, say pleasantly, "What a glorious sky this morning! I believe we are in for a long spell of fine weather."

At this he will probably grunt out gruffly, "Ugh!"

Sympathise with his tonsils. Recommend any simple remedy of which you have heard, or point out the advantages of several spots on the Sussex coast. Ask him where his favourite holiday resort is; whether he goes there alone or if he is married, and if so how many children he has. Ask if they are all well at home.

Remember politeness costs nothing.

This method of leading up to business is much better than the old one, in which you stand and are bullied by a man who has no sort of right over you except that he has employment to offer and you want it badly.

Therefore converse with him as if he were an equal, though possibly he may be your inferior.

He may not answer your kind enquiries, but look you up and down from the welt of your boot to your scarf-pin. All employers have learnt this method of scrutiny. They have learnt it from their wives.

Should he examine you in this manner, smile agreeably and walk a few yards to display your profile. Then change the angle and afford him a back view. Say easily, "This collar fits neatly, does it not?" or something like that.

Turning, you can show yourself pleased with his own style of dress.

"Excuse my mentioning it," you remark, "but your taste in neck-gear is exquisite. I have similar ties myself."

This will flatter him, and those men are very susceptible to flattery. Also he will be led to speculate favourably upon the stylishness and extent of your wardrobe.

After this interval of mutual admiration you draw a chair to the centre of the room and say, "I believe you have a vacancy in the office? What is it you want me to be? I presume you think of still managing the business yourself? I will gladly listen to your terms and we will discuss my prospects."

It is now his move. Lean back in your chair and light a cigarette, regarding him with a reassuring smile.

You will find that he will have listened to you attentively, looking hard at your face. As you finish he will push his chair back, rise and strut across the room.

Now is your chance to decide your fate one way or the other.

When he has gone a few steps produce your watch and exclaim in a mildly vexed tone, "How annoying! I had almost forgotten. I have another appointment at eleven. In the short time remaining at our disposal it is impossible to deal adequately with any offer you may make. May I propose an adjournment?"

The suggestion of independence thus delicately conveyed will usually have the desired effect and result in an immediate engagement.

Should the employer fail to be impressed he simply pushes the bell and you are shown off the premises with great promptitude.

* * * * *

"WANTED, strong Willing Girl, age 18, to wait on trained nurses and assist third housemaid upstairs."

_Advt. in "Morning Post."_

We should give the third housemaid one more chance and then, if she still can't get upstairs without assistance, dismiss her.

* * * * *

IN A GOOD CAUSE.

_To Every Reader of "Punch"._

DEAR READER,--H.R.H. PRINCE ARTHUR OF CONNAUGHT has consented to take the chair at the Centenary dinner of the Artists' General Benevolent Institution on May 6th. This Institution devotes itself to the help of artists who are in need through poverty, sickness or other ill-chance. As a lover of Art--and, of men--I am in close sympathy with this good work, and am to be represented at the dinner in the person of my Art Editor, Mr. F.H. TOWNSEND, who will act as one of the Stewards. I am appealing to my readers of their kindness to send something to swell his list, and so to help in making this Centenary a memorable year in the history of the Artists' General Benevolent Institution. Contributions addressed to Mr. F.H. TOWNSEND, "Punch" Office, 10, Bouverie Street, E.C., will be very gratefully acknowledged.

Your faithful Servant, Punch.

* * * * *

Unrest in India.

"The handwriting appeared to be that of a young school student and the word 'Prosecutor' had been spelt 'Prosecutor.' The matter is under enquiry."

"_Statesman_" (_Calcutta_).

It is our earnest hope that this grave business will be sifted to the bottom.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE MANLY PART.

(_Reflections at the moment of "Moving in."_)

The house has burst a-bloom like CERES' daughter; The painters bicker and the plumbers flee; The H. tap in the bathroom gives cold water Endlessly, like the C.

All arts are being used to gild the tarnished, And exorcise old ghosts and spirits fled, And treacherous quags abound where boards are varnished And no man's boot may tread.

And none can tell me where my spats were taken, And decorators' coats adorn the pegs, And savour of new paint surrounds the bacon, New paint is in the eggs.

And huge men meet me and remark, "This dresser, Where shall we put it?" And of course I say, "Up in the bedroom;" and they answer, "Yessir," But Marion bids them stay.

All right--I'll sit (the sole place where one _can_ sit) And gaze upon these walls with wild surmise, And muse on all the things we've lost in transit, The socks, the gloves, the ties.

Here, where in time to come the firebeams ruddy, Falling on cosy chairs and bookshelves straight, Shall show to me my own familiar study, And Maud shall do the grate,

Here in this narrow carpet's sacred border, Girt by the wet distemper's weltering foam, I'll do my bit to set the house in order And make it seem like home.

Mere hackwork, doubtless, is the stuff for women, But mine to dissipate the dark has-been, Mine to remove what shades are clustered dim in Corners and coigns unseen;

To start the holiest rite of installation, And from the still-remembering walls to wipe All traces of a previous occupation-- Briefly, to light my pipe.

Paint is no hall-mark of a decent dwelling, And moving furniture makes such a din; The master's part shall be the ghost-dispelling-- That is where he comes in.

Forget not, while ye tramp with tread sonorous The unclothed stairs and catch my weed's perfume, That three mild spinsters had the house before us; This was their morning-room.

EVOE.

* * * * *

A quotation in _The Edinburgh Evening Dispatch_ of a verse of Mr. ROBERT BRIDGES' new poem ends like this:--

"From numbing stress and gloom profound Madest escape in life desirous To embroider her thin-spun robe."

* * * * *

[PARAGRAPH ADVERTISEMENT.]

'WHO'S THE LADY?'"

Perhaps the POET LAUREATE will answer.

* * * * *

THE BOOK-BUYER.

There was plenty to eat, the landlord said, if the commercial gentlemen made no objection to my joining their table; and such objection was very unlikely, since nicer gentlemen you couldn't hope to meet.

He then went off to put the point to them, and they seem to have been very charming about it, judging by the cordiality and courtesy of the welcome which I received. Being, however, at the end of the table, I had but one neighbour, and he not a very communicative one, for, although he did at once lay down his knife and fork to tell me that the beef came from Scotland and was therefore more to be desired than the mutton, which was local, he said no more, and I was therefore left to eat in silence, my two _vis-à-vis_ being engaged in a private conversation. Such little as from time to time I heard among the others was not much in my line, dealing as it did either with horses, Ulster, or Mexico; but suddenly a big man with a purple face and a signet ring as large as a carriage lamp plunged me into curiosity by remarking that he "never bought less than three two-shilling books a week, and sometimes four."

These being the last words I should have expected from him, for he looked absolutely the type that reads only a half-penny daily and a sporting sheet and puts in the rest of its leisure at gossip or cards, and as I am interested in people's taste in literature, I determined to improve his acquaintance and discover something as to his favourite authors; and again, as I made this resolve, I realised how foolish it is ever to expect the outside of a man to be any index of his mind. One never can tell, and one is always having further proof that one never can tell, and yet one goes on trying to tell.

Studying him in a series of glances, I set him down for a NAT GOULD man.

The arrival of coffee and the departure of certain guests (wisely, as it happened,) who did not want that curious beverage, relaxed the table, and I moved up to the brave buyer of books. He received me affably, and we exchanged a few remarks on those ice-breaking matters of no importance upon which real convictions are not expected. Then, with a deft touch, I turned the talk to literature. "I suppose," I said, "with your long journeys you get plenty of time for reading?"

"Time enough," he said.

I continued by a reference to the advantages which we enjoyed over our fathers and grandfathers in the multiplicity of cheap books. "Those wonderful sevenpennies!" I said.

He agreed. He had often spent ten minutes at a junction in looking at them.

"And the shilling books," I said. "The more serious ones--'Everyman's Library,' and all that sort of thing. Most remarkable!"

He had noticed those too, but still he offered no views of his own.

I saw that he was one of the uncommunicative kind. Information must be drawn forcibly from him.

"And the two-shilling novels," I said--"they're wonderful too."

I But his eyes did not light; his I purple mask kept its secrets.

"The two-shilling ones," I repeated, with emphasis on the price. Hang it, how slow he was.

Still he said nothing.

"So much better than the old yellowbacks at that figure," I said.

He was, if anything, more silent.

Clearly I must plunge. "Who is your favourite writer?" I demanded, point-blank.

"I haven't got such a thing," he said.

Here's a strange thing, I thought. I suppose he's one of those mechanical readers who go through a book as a kind of dutiful pastime and never even notice the author's name.

"But you read a lot?" I suggested.

"Me? Good gracious, no," he said. "I don't read a book from one year's end to the other. Papers--oh, yes; but not books."

I was staggered.

"But I thought," I said, "that I heard you say a little while ago that you never bought fewer than three two-shilling books a week, and sometimes more?"

His purple took on a darker richer shade, which I subsequently discovered indicated the approach of mirth. He began to make strange noises, which in time I found meant laughter.

For a while he gave himself up to chromatic rumblings. At last, able to speak, he replied to me. "So I did say," he said; "so I did say I bought three two-shilling books a week. But not books to read"--here he became momentarily inarticulate again--"not books to read, but those little two-shilling books of stamps in red covers that you get at the post-office. I don't know where I should be without them."

Shade of CARNEGIE!

* * * * *

* * * * *

Musical Criticism.

"Sir John French had stultified himself singing the order."--_Irish Independent._

Personally we sing it over to ourselves in the bath every morning--all except the last two paragraphs.

* * * * *

Messrs. BELL quote the following appreciative notice of one of their spelling books:--

"The spelling exercises, largely alliterative--e.g., 'A Beach-tree, a sandy beach'--are quite attractive, and once in the mind remain there."--_School Guardian._

This attractive way of spelling "beech-tree" will not, we hope, remain indefinitely in the minds of our readers.

* * * * *

* * * * *

LIBERALS DAY BY DAY.

_March 23._--During the course of a heated debate Mr. Joshua Dredgwood, M.P., said that, in spite of the Parliament Act, the House of Lords still dominated the situation. If there was a General Election next week it would be fought on a cry of the Proletariat against the Peers. The entire Liberal Party rose to its feet and cheered the speaker for seven minutes, waving hats, order papers and pocket-handkerchiefs.

_March 24._--Answering a question put by Mr. Connor Shaw, the PREMIER stated that he had decided to retire from the House of Commons and lead the Party from the House of Lords. The entire Liberal Party was convulsed with irrepressible enthusiasm and cheered the PREMIER'S announcement for nine minutes, many Members removing their collars and ties and waving them in delirious excitement.

_March 25._--A reference to the Welsh Church Bill by a member of the Opposition elicited an epoch-making remark from Mr. Haydn Tooth, M.P. He said that the English Church blocked every measure of social reform so effectually that unless it was immediately disestablished and every archbishop and bishop deported to the Antarctic regions civil war would break out in a week. All records were broken by the Liberal Party, who rose as one man and cheered Mr. Tooth's declaration for ten minutes, many Members standing on their heads and waving their legs with epileptic fervour.

_March 26._--Immediately after Question time the PRIME MINISTER asked to be allowed to make a brief statement. Amid profound silence he stated that he had decided, with the cordial approval of his colleagues, to create a new Ministry of Public Worship, to be held by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, and that he would himself assume the archbishopric on the following day. The frenzied delight of the entire Liberal Party on hearing this momentous announcement beggars description. The cheering lasted fifteen minutes, and when the vocal chords of the Members were exhausted by the strain they rolled about on the floor of the House for nearly half-an-hour.

_March 27._--A tremendous impression was created by Mr. James Board, the Labour Member, during the discussion of the Plumage Bill. After observing that fine feathers might make fine birds he went on to say that lawn sleeves were no palliation of the assumption of dictatorial and autocratic powers. The entire Liberal Party cheered the statement for twenty minutes, and then continued the demonstration with mouth-organs and megaphones for close upon an hour and a-half.

_March 30._--The PREMIER, bidding farewell to the House of Commons, announced that he had with infinite regret accepted his own resignation of the Archbishopric of Canterbury, and would in future be known as Super-Archimandrite of the Isle of Man. The entire Liberal Party were still cheering the announcement when we went to press.

* * * * *

"Wanted, for country house, a good ODD MAN, more outside than inside."

_Advt. in "Guardian"._

The oddness of one's outside is, of course, more apparent.

* * * * *

ORANGES AND LEMONS.

V.--THE GAMESTERS.

"It's about time," said Simpson one evening, "that we went to the tables and--er----" (he adjusted his spectacles)--"had a little flutter."

We all looked at him in silent admiration.

"Oh, Samuel," sighed Myra, "and I promised your aunt that you shouldn't gamble while you were away."

"But, my dear Myra, it's the first thing the fellows at the club ask you when you've been to the Riviera--if you've had any luck."

"Well, you've had a lot of luck," said Archie. "Several times when you've been standing on the heights and calling attention to the beautiful view below I've said to myself, 'One push, and he's a deader,' but something, some mysterious agency within, has kept me back."

"All the fellows at the club----"

Simpson is popularly supposed to belong to a Fleet Street Toilet and Hairdressing Club, where for three guineas a year he gets shaved every day, and his hair cut whenever Myra insists. On the many occasions when he authorises a startling story of some well-known statesman with the words: "My dear old chap, I know it for a fact. I heard it at the club to-day from a friend of his," then we know that once again the barber's assistant has been gossiping over the lather.