Chapter 2

"I fancy," said one of the gods, "that it might be rather funny if Maria jilted the Captain. I have an idea that it would please Porkins."

"Whatever has Maria--" began a very young god, but he was immediately suppressed.

"Really," said the other, "I should have thought it was sufficiently obvious. You know what these mortals are." He looked round to them all. "Is it agreed then?"

It was agreed.

So Maria Strultz jilted the Captain.

Now this, as you may imagine, annoyed Captain Tomsk. He commanded a frontier fort on the boundary between Ruritania and Essenland, and his chief amusement in a dull life was to play cards with the Essenland captain, who commanded the fort on the other side of the river. When Maria's letter came he felt that the only thing to do was to drown himself; on second thoughts he decided to drown his sorrows first. He did this so successfully that at the end of the evening he was convinced that it was not Maria who had jilted him, but the Essenland captain who had jilted Maria; whereupon he rowed across the river and poured his revolver into the Essenland flag which was flying over the fort. Maria thus revenged, he went home to bed, and woke next morning with a bad headache.

(_"Now we're off," said the gods in Olympus._)

In Diedeldorf, the capital of Essenland, the leader-writers proceeded to remove their coats.

"The blood of every true Essenlander," said the leader-writer of the _Diedeldorf Patriot_, after sending out for another pot of beer, "will boil when it hears of this fresh insult to our beloved flag, an insult which can only be wiped out with blood." Then seeing that he had two "bloods" in one sentence, he crossed the second one out, substituted "the sword," and lit a fresh cigarette. "For years Essenland has writhed under the provocations of Ruritania, but has preserved a dignified silence; this last insult is more than flesh and blood can stand." Another "blood" had got in, but it was a new sentence and he thought it might be allowed to remain. "We shall not be accused of exaggeration if we say that Essenland would lose, and rightly lose, her prestige in the eyes of Europe if she let this affront pass unnoticed. In a day she would sink from a first-rate to a fifth-rate power." But he didn't say how.

The Chancellor of Essenland, in a speech gravely applauded by both sides of the House, announced the steps he had taken. An ultimatum had been sent to Ruritania demanding an apology, an indemnity of a hundred thousand marks, and the public degradation of Captain Tomsk, whose epaulettes were to be torn off by the Commander-in-Chief of the Essenland Army in the presence of a full corps of cinematograph artists. Failing this, war would be declared.

Ruritania offered the apology, the indemnity, and the public degradation of Captain Tomsk, but urged that this last ceremony would be better performed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Ruritanian Army; otherwise Ruritania might as well cease to be a sovereign state, for she would lose her prestige in the eyes of Europe.

There was only one possible reply to this, and Essenland made it. She invaded Ruritania.

(_"Aren't they wonderful?" said the gods in Olympus to each other._

_"But haven't you made a mistake?" asked the very young god. "Porkins lives in England, not Essenland."_

_"Wait a moment," said the others._)

* * * * *

In the capital of Borovia the leader-writer of the _Borovian Patriot_ got to work. "How does Borovia stand?" he asked. "If Essenland occupies Ruritania, can any thinking man in Borovia feel safe with the enemy at his gates?" (The Borovian peasant, earning five marks a week, would have felt no less safe than usual, but then he could hardly be described as a thinking man.) "It is vital to the prestige of Borovia that the integrity of Ruritania should be preserved. Otherwise we may resign ourselves at once to the prospect of becoming a fifth-rate power in the eyes of Europe." And in a speech, gravely applauded by all parties, the Borovian Chancellor said the same thing. So the Imperial Army was mobilized and, amidst a wonderful display of patriotic enthusiasm by those who were remaining behind, the Borovian troops marched to the front....

(_"And there you are," said the gods in Olympus._

_"But even now----" began the very young god doubtfully._

_"Silly, isn't Felicia the ally of Essenland; isn't Marksland the ally of Borovia; isn't England the ally of the ally of the ally of the Country which holds the balance of power between Marksland and Felicia?"_

_"But if any of them thought the whole thing stupid or unjust or----"_

_"Their prestige," said the gods gravely, trying not to laugh._

_"Oh, I see," said the very young god._)

* * * * *

And when a year later the hundred-thousandth English mother woke up to read that her boy had been shot, I am afraid she shed foolish tears and thought that the world had come to an end.

Poor short-sighted creature! She didn't realise that Porkins, who had marched round in ninety-six the day before, was now thoroughly braced up.

(_"What babies they all are," said the very young god._)

A. A. M.

* * * * *

An Invidious Distinction.

"An Opening offers for a GENTLEMAN or Public School man...."

_Advt. in "The Times."_

* * * * *

"At moderate expenditure he has increased the stock-carrying capacity of his holding many times over, and can now fatten both cattle and sheep, where formerly either had only a bear subsistence."--_Times._

To the question, "What do bears subsist on?" we believe the answer to be, "Honey and American trappers."

* * * * *

Where to wear your Hat.

"The Misses Buckley (Llandaff) were dressed--the one in a cerise coat and skirt, relieved at the waist with a black patent band and hat to correspond...."--_South Wales Daily News._

* * * * *

Illustration: _Police Sergeant (having swallowed with gurgling sounds and smacking of lips a pint of beer given him by publican at his back door after hours) to intruding Constable._ "WHAT HAVE _YOU_ COME ROUND HERE FOR?"

_Police Constable._ "I HEARD AN UNUSUAL SOUND, SIR."

* * * * *

THE DOUBLE CURE.

"The hair," said the assistant, "is very thick."

"If you refer to mine," I replied, "it is frightfully thick."

He looked at it reflectively. "It is very thick," he said; "very thick," and he jabbed the comb into it.

"On the other hand," I pointed out, "my skull is very thin."

"Yes, Sir."

"And the comb is very sharp."

He apologized, pulled the comb out, and jabbed it back not quite so severely.

"Very sharp," } }we murmured together. "Very thick," }

"I will thin it out," he suggested.

"As long as you get it out painlessly, I don't mind," I said, and I lay back and studied the bottles.

"It's a curious thing," I observed, "but mine is the only case for which you hairdressers fail to provide."

"I don't quite follow, Sir."

"Well," I explained, "for any degree of baldness you provide remedies by the hundreds. You offer to invigorate the hair, to dress it, to bring it up in the way it should go, and to produce it in any quantity."

The light of battle came into the assistant's eye and he moved to the wash-basin.

"Yes," he said, picking up a bottle of oily mixture, "this preparation, for instance, is really to be recommended. The famous Criniline."

He held it aloft and the neighbouring assistant barely suppressed a cheer. "I've sold----"

"That's all very well," I objected, "but where do I come in?"

"Well, Sir"--he held out his scissors--"these surely are effective."

"Cutting only makes it grow more quickly. The beastly stuff's so thick," I complained, "I can't do anything with it. What I want is some stuff----"

"Preparation, Sir."

"----stuff for thinning my hair."

"For thinning the hair. Yes, Sir." He combed the atmosphere thoughtfully. "I should like to sell you something, Sir."

Of a sudden he snipped excitedly. "I have it!" he exclaimed. He moved back to the washstand and picked up a bottle. "The very thing," he said. He looked round cautiously, bent down towards my ear and coughed nervously. "Of course," he said, "this is--er--not a preparation for your particular complaint. I--er--it--between our two selves, Sir, it was--er--intended for other purposes."

"Yes?" I said.

"But, Sir, it may be just what you require."

"Yes, yes." I held my hand out for the bottle.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered. "It may be. At any rate I happen to know for a fact there is no possible danger of its increasing the growth of the hair."

And he handed me the famous Criniline.

To show my appreciation of his honesty I bought two bottles.

* * * * *

Commercial Candour.

From a Provision catalogue:--

"Lamb.... Should shoulders be ordered Legs will be sent."

Very annoying.

* * * * *

"BERLIN. Saturday.--It is stated that the Crown Prince is to assume the command of the troops at Belgrade.--_Reuter._"--_Observer._

As this comes from Berlin we assume that the reference is to the GERMAN CROWN PRINCE. If so, he's got on the wrong side by mistake.

* * * * *

Illustration: _Mary_ (_exploring_). "OH, LOOK, MUMMIE, I'VE FOUND A SNUGGLER'S CAVE!"

* * * * *

THE PACKER'S PLAINT.

Yes, I must pack my things, and, what is worse, Must pack alone, for James, my faithful man, The ancient servitor who knows my wants, Is busy, and to-day he cannot aid. The house is in a turmoil, and the maids Speed to and fro without a moment's stay. The corridors and all the rooms resound With footfalls, and the lady of the house, Her sleeves tucked up (they always tuck their sleeves), Her working-apron girt about her form, Bustles around and issues her commands, As who should say, "Behold me as I pack; This is no place for men who do not pack. Who play with dogs, or smoke their cigarettes, Or read the papers, getting in the way Of workers." So she packs and packs and packs. Four children in their various rooms have spread All the contents of drawers upon the floor, A most insane disorder, while they eat Cream chocolates, for their mother is not there. They too wear aprons, and their cheeks are red, Their hair is tousled, and the rooms resound With battle-cry and challenge, and the air Is thick with things they hurl at one another. And I, too, yield and go to pack my things. Yet how shall man decide what he may want In four revolving weeks; what hats, what coats, How many collars and what handkerchiefs, What flannel trousers--all the articles, Shoes, scissors, waistcoats, gaudy ties and boots, Socks, safety-razor-blades and leather belts, Studs, links, dress-suit, and plain and coloured shirts, And undervests--the articles, in short, That make a man in very truth a man? Did AGAMEMNON, when he rushed to war, And sought the dreadful fields of Ilium-- Did he pack up, or trust the thing to slaves, Saying, "Put in my six best pairs of greaves, Four regal mantles, sandals for the shore, And fourteen glittering helmets with their plumes, And ten strong breastplates and a sheaf of swords, And crowns and robes and tunics, and of spears A goodly number, such as may beseem The office and the valour of a King. Ay, and if one least thing you should forget Your lives shall pay the forfeit. Go and pack?" If it was thus that AGAMEMNON spake I envy him, for I must pack alone. I shall forget the necessary things And take the useless, having none to blame Save only my incomparable mind.

* * * * *

A Sporting Offer.

From _The Times_ on the Servian Chief of Staff:--

"As the Austro-Hungarian Army is imbued with a much too chivalrous feeling to deprive the Servian Army of its loader an opportunity will be given him to continue his journey to Servia to-day, and a special saloon carriage will be placed at his disposal.--_Reuter._"

An unusual luxury for a loader.

* * * * *

"HEADSTONE, cost L12, for L7; selling cheap through death of proprietor."--_Glasgow Evening Citizen._

Not sufficient reason for us.

* * * * *

Illustration: MUTUAL SERVICE.

BRITANNIA (_to Peace_). "I'VE BEEN DOING MY BEST FOR YOU IN EUROPE; PLEASE DO YOUR BEST FOR ME IN IRELAND."

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

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

_House of Commons, Monday, July 27._--To-day set apart for consideration of Navy Estimates. To-morrow assigned to Second Reading of Home Rule Amending Bill come over from the Lords. Up to yesterday public attention centred on latter event. Questions reverberated: What will Premier do with the Bill? What will follow on his action?

This morning British Public wakes up not to one startling surprise but to two. War is imminent in East of Europe. War has actually broken out in streets of Dublin.

Nearer event illustrates afresh the unfathomable versatility of Ireland. For months the country has been taught to expect armed outbreak in Ulster. At any moment, we were told, the patience of the Ulster volunteer, with current of events devised and controlled by constituted authority, would collapse. Civil war would be in full swing.

At moment when postponement of threatened action had lulled public into sense of security, news comes of conflict between armed volunteers and a detachment of soldiers of the line. In newspaper columns appear stirring pictures of populace thronging the streets and stoning the soldiers as they march back to their barracks; of volleys fired in defence and reprisal; of men, women and children falling dead or wounded in the streets. And lo! the volunteers on the warpath are not Ulstermen, but Nationalists. The city given up to murderous riot is not Belfast, but Dublin.

House meets in half-dazed condition to face this amazing jumble of the unexpected. JOHN REDMOND moves adjournment in order to discuss it. Interest of situation intensified by circumstance that the rifle shots fired by the O'Connell Bridge, Dublin, did more than kill three citizens and wound thirty-two others. They threaten to dissolve compact between Irish Nationalists and HIS MAJESTY'S Ministers. Sorely strained on occasions, it has hitherto remained inviolate. With South and West of Ireland looking on suspiciously at relations with Saxon Government--a necessity admitted but its existence never liked--it behoved AGAG REDMOND to walk delicately.

Accomplished feat with considerable skill. Appeared from official statement that, as sometimes happens in Ireland in analogous cases--on the Curragh, for example--someone had blundered into direct opposition to Ministerial policy and intention. Troops had been called out by authority of a minor official. Firing had opened in the streets of Dublin without word of command from officer in charge of detachment. Supreme representatives of Government, whether at the Irish Office or Dublin Castle, were innocent of offence. They were simply unfortunate--which in some cases is worse than being guilty.

* * * * *

Illustration: "I have had considerable experience, perhaps a larger experience than any man in this House, of being taken to task for the actions of those who were my subordinates or my colleagues. [Laughter]."--_Mr. ASQUITH._

* * * * *

On the whole, debate carried through with marvellous repression of Party passion. It is true LORD BOB suggested that Ministers should be hanged (or "suspended," as he put it). That is only his way of expressing diversity of opinion on matters of detail. Division keenly looked forward to. Would Redmondites be satisfied with suspension of Sub-Commissioner of Dublin Police when they demanded head of Chief Commissioner on a charger? Would they abstain from the division, or would they, joyously relapsing into original state of nature, "go agin the Government"?

Catastrophe averted by resisting motion for closure and carrying debate over eleven o'clock, when it automatically stood adjourned.

_Business done._--Clontarf "incident" discussed.

_Tuesday._--The elephant is justly proud of the range of its adaptability. As every schoolboy knows, with its mighty trunk it can uproot a tree or pick up a pin. Analogy found in case of House of Commons, with perhaps a preference for picking up pins.

This afternoon the war-cloud lies low over East of Europe. News momentarily expected--it arrived before the dinner-hour--that Austria had declared war against Servia. Match thus applied to trail of gunpowder, no one can say how far or in what direction the flame may travel. Meanwhile ominous fact that by way of precaution other Powers are preparing to mobilise. In addition to grave happenings abroad, we have at home our own little war. Sudden outburst of fury in streets of Dublin last Sunday indicates grave possibilities in the near future.

In these circumstances reasonable to suppose attention of House would be centred on these contingencies, its demeanour attuned accordingly. On the contrary, liveliest interest at Question-hour aroused by discovery that persons employed in business of peeling onions are exempt from payment of Insurance Tax.

House and country indebted to FRED HALL for disclosure of this remarkable circumstance. As a rule his questions do not attract the measure of attention their merit possibly demands. This largely due to fact that they are so numerous, so constant in appearance on the paper, and are doubled, sometimes trebled, by supplementaries devised in the spirit the SPEAKER delicately describes as animated by desire rather to give information than to seek it.

But this discovery of the super-eminence of the onion-peeler in the matter of freedom from taxation instantly riveted attention. It was news even to WORTHINGTON EVANS, who has spent his days and nights in mastering obscurities of Insurance Act. From all parts of the House came sharp inquiry for further information. Was the potato-peeler also exempt? If not, why not?

Trying moment for WEDGWOOD BENN. Faced it with customary courage and something more than habitual rotundity of official phraseology.

"Employment as an onion-peeler," he oracularly said, "has in a special order been specified as a subsidiary employment, and contributions are not required to be paid in respect of persons so employed."

That all very well as far as it went. It did not go to the length of explaining the mystery that racked the mind of all sections of parties. Why the onion-peeler in particular?

* * * * *

Illustration: [According to Mr. HEALY'S interpretation of what he called "a kind of foreshore doctrine of legality," the PRIME MINISTER had laid it down that guns are liable to seizure on the shore below high water mark, but that, once they are fairly on dry land, "the proclamation has exhausted itself."]

I.--OUTSIDE THE LAW. II.--WITHIN THE LAW.

* * * * *

SPEAKER stayed storm of renewed interrogation by calling on next question. Some time before ordinary calm was restored. On benches above Gangway on Opposition side there is rooted belief that there is more in this than meets the eye. LLOYD GEORGE is evidently at the bottom of what begins to look like a bad business.

_Business done._--In Committee of Supply, Colonial vote agreed to. Progress made with Education vote, amounting this year to modest total of L9,480,621.

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY STORIES.

(_Constructed after the best models._)

I.--AN ALPINE ADVENTURE.

Inside the Fahrjoch Hut a merry clatter of tin mugs proclaimed that a climbing party was supping. Ralph Wonderson paused for a moment, thoughtfully stroking his crampons, before he threw open the door and entered.

Two stalwart and sunburnt young Englishmen, a beautiful fair-haired English girl, and three hirsute and jovial Swiss guides were feasting on the sardines and dried plums which experience has shown to be the best diet for mountaineers. They looked up cheerily as he entered, and greeted him with the easy camaraderie of the mountains.

Gratefully relieving himself of his rope, ice-axe, _Baedeker_, goggles, corkscrew, crampons and other impedimenta of the expert Alpinist, Ralph seated himself beside the girl.

"You look tired," she said sympathetically.

"Yes," he replied, picking up a sardine by its tail and dropping it into his mouth with the ease of one long accustomed to mountain huts. "Yes, I've just satisfied a long-cherished ambition by doing the Matterhorn and the Jungfrau in the same day without guides."

There was an instant chorus of admiration. The three guides rose to their feet and gazed at the newcomer in astonishment.

"_Ja wohl! Auf wiedersehen!_" they said warmly.

There is no body of men in the world so free from petty jealousy as the Swiss guides.

"It is nothing," said Ralph lightly. "What are your plans for to-morrow? I rather thought of taking things easily myself and doing the Wetterhorn. I wondered----"

"I'm sure we should be delighted to join you," said the girl, "if you could consent to be accompanied by such undistinguished climbers. Let me introduce ourselves. This is my cousin, Sir Ernest Scrivener. This is my brother, Lord Tamerton. I am Margaret Tamerton."

"Lady Margaret Tamerton!" cried Ralph in amazement. "Little Madge! Don't you remember me--Ralph Wonderson, your playmate as a child?"

"Ralph!" exclaimed Lady Margaret. "Oh, of course! And I haven't seen you since you whitewashed all the guinea-pigs and were sent away to school."

* * * * *

Several hours later Lady Margaret stood with Ralph on the terrace outside the hut. Her eyes plunged into the awful abyss at their feet, swept along the moonlit valley thousands and thousands of feet below them, and fastened themselves upon the sinister crags of the Lyskamm and the stupendous dome of Mont Blanc. A lump came into her throat.

"I don't know why," she said softly, "but I have a presentiment of evil. Is the Wetterhorn _very_ dangerous?"

Ralph laughed lightly. "A child could climb it blindfolded in midwinter," he said. "Trust yourself to me, little Madge, to-morrow and--and----"

"For ever!" added Margaret almost inaudibly as they went into the hut together.

Mingled happiness and foreboding strangely disturbed her breast, and she sighed as she trod heavily on the face of one of the guides in climbing to her shelf. She heard his low sleepy murmur of apology as she drew her straw about her. There is no more courteous body of men in the world than the Swiss guides.

Next morning, after a hasty toilet with a handful of snow, the party set off shortly before sunrise. Ralph by general consent assumed the leadership. Taking careful soundings with his ice-axe and using his crampons with almost uncanny certitude, he guided his companions through a moraine and debouched on to a tremendous glacier.

As he turned to survey those behind them he perceived for the first time a scar under the left ear of Sir Ernest Scrivener.

"_Teufel!_" he exclaimed under his breath. "It is he! Moorsdyke! My mortal enemy!" But his meditations were interrupted by the stern nature of the work before them. Their route led them along the foot of a line of towering and trembling _seracs_. The vibration of a whisper might send them crashing down upon the party.

Placing one hand on his lips as a warning for silence, he dexterously cut steps in the ice with the other. Progress was slow and nerve racking. Every step had to be taken with infinite precaution. Once Lord Tamerton slipped and would have fallen headlong to destruction had not Ralph caught him by the ear and lifted him back into his steps.