Chapter 2

The esteemed _Berliner Tageblatt_ has recently set itself to discover the most suitable reading for civilians during the war. One of its correspondents recommends _Gulliver's Travels_, "in order to learn to know the English." That weighty point may therefore be regarded as finally settled. Meanwhile from other sources no less authentic some interesting particulars have come to light of the literary relaxations prevailing among our enemy in the field. From these it would appear that early in September General VON KLUCK received, apparently from an anonymous admirer, a copy of _The Mysteries of Paris_, in which he has been thoughtfully absorbed ever since. His Imperial master's pocket-companion takes the form of a copy of Mr. FRANK RICHARDSON'S _There and Back_, which we learn is already beginning to show signs of hard wear. Many of the gunners stationed about French and Belgian cathedral cities are reported as being seriously interested in MAX MÜLLER'S _Chips from a German Workshop_, while Mr. H. G. WELLS' _Twelve Stories and a Dream_ has become almost a book of reference to the officials disseminating German wireless news.

* * *

A work of timely importance, especially to Londoners during the present lighting regulations, is promised in the course of the next few weeks. The novelty is to take the form of a brochure from the pen of Dean INGE, and will court popularity under the arresting title, _How to be Cheerful though Gloomy_.

* * * * *

THE ARCHBISHOP'S APOLOGIA.

["I resent exceedingly the gross and vulgar way in which the German Emperor has been treated in the newspapers.... I have a personal memory of the Emperor very sacred to me."--_The Archbishop of York._]

HIS GRACE OF YORK maintains the KAISER'S Merely the dupe of bad advisers, And, simply to avoid a fuss, Reluctantly made war on us.

One marvels what his Grace will say When, peradventure, some fine day, Thanks to his German friend, he hears York Minster crashing round his ears!

* * * * *

FORESIGHT.

"It was stated in Dover last night that an aircraft was seen over Dungeness this evening."--_Central News._

"The Press Bureau, while permitting publication, cannot vouch for the accuracy of this statement."--_Cardiff Evening Express._

No wonder!

* * * * *

A QUESTION OF LIGHT.

As soon as Celia had got a chequebook of her own (and I had explained the mysteries of "---- & Co." to her), she looked round for a safe investment of her balance, which amounted to several pounds. My offers, first of an old stocking and afterwards of mines, mortgages and aerated breads, were rejected at once.

"I'll leave a little in the bank in case of accidents," she said, "and the rest must go somewhere absolutely safe and earn me five per cent. Otherwise they shan't have it."

We did what we could for her; we offered the money to archdeacons and other men of pronounced probity; and finally we invested it in the Blanktown Electric Light Company. Blanktown is not its real name, of course; but I do not like to let out any information which may be of value to Celia's enemies--the wicked ones who are trying to snatch her little fortune from her. The world, we feel, is a dangerous place for a young woman with money.

"Can't I _possibly_ lose it now?" she asked.

"Only in two ways," I said. "Blanktown might disappear in the night, or the inhabitants might give up using electric light."

It seemed safe enough. At the same time we watched the newspapers anxiously for details of the latest inventions; and anybody who happened to mention when dining with us that he was experimenting with a new and powerful illuminant was handed his hat at once.

You have Blanktown, then, as the depository of Celia's fortune. Now it comes on the scene in another guise. I made the announcement with some pride at breakfast yesterday.

"My dear," I said, "I have been asked to deliver a lecture."

"What ever on?" asked Celia.

"Anything I like. The last person lectured on 'The Minor Satellites of Jupiter,' and the one who comes after me is doing 'The Architecture of the Byzantine Period,' so I can take something in between."

"Like 'Frostbites,'" said Celia helpfully. "But I don't quite understand. Where is it, and why?"

"The Blanktown Literary and Philosophical Society ask me to lecture to them at Blanktown. The man who was coming is ill."

"But why _you_ particularly?"

"One comes down to me in the end," I said modestly.

"I expect it's because of my electric lights. Do they give you any money for it?"

"They ask me to name my fee."

"Then say a thousand pounds, and lecture on the need for more electric light. Fancy if I got six per cent.!"

"This is a very sordid conversation," I said. "If I agree to lecture at all, it will be simply because I feel that I have a message to deliver ... I will now retire into the library and consider what that message is to be."

I placed the _Encyclopædia_ handy and sat down at my desk. I had already grasped the fact that the title of my discourse was the important thing. In the list of the Society's lectures sent to me there was hardly one whose title did not impress the imagination in advance. I must be equally impressive....

After a little thought I began to write.

"WASPS AND THEIR YOUNG.

"_Lecture delivered before the Blanktown Literary and Philosophical Society, Tuesday, December 8th._

"Ladies and Gentlemen----"

"Well," said Celia, drifting in, "how's it going?"

I showed her how far I had got.

"I thought you always began, 'My Lord Mayor, Ladies and Gentlemen,'" she said.

"Only if the Lord Mayor's there."

"But how will you know?"

"Yes, that's rather awkward. I shall have to ask the Secretary beforehand."

I began again.

"WASPS AND THEIR YOUNG.

"_Lecture delivered, etc._ ...

"My Lord Mayor, my Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen----"

It looked much better.

"What about Baronets?" said Celia. "There's sure to be lots."

"Yes, this is going to be difficult. I shall have to have a long talk with the Secretary.... How's this?--'My Lord Mayor, Lords, Baronets, Ladies and Gentlemen and Sundries.' That's got in everybody."

"That's all right. And I wanted to ask you: Have you got any lantern slides?"

"They're not necessary."

"But they're much more fun. Perhaps they'll have some old ones of Vesuvius you can work in. Well, goodbye." And she drifted out.

I went on thinking.

"No," I said to myself, "I'm on the wrong tack." So I began again:--

"SOME YORKSHIRE POT-HOLES.

"_Lecture delivered before the Blanktown Literary and Philosophical Society, Tuesday, December 8th._

"My Lord Mayor, my Lords----"

"I don't want to interrupt," said Celia coming in suddenly, "but--oh, what's a pot-hole?"

"A curious underground cavern sometimes found in the North."

"Aren't caverns always underground? But you're busy. Will you be in for lunch?"

"I shall be writing my lecture all day," I said busily.

At lunch I decided to have a little financial talk with Celia.

"What I feel is this," I said. "At most I can ask ten guineas for my lecture. Now my expenses all the way to the North, with a night at an hotel, will be at least five pounds."

"Five-pounds-ten profit," said Celia. "Not bad."

"Ah, but wait. I have never spoken in public before. In an immense hall, whose acoustics----"

"Who are they?"

"Well, never mind. What I mean is that I shall want some elocution lessons. Say five, at a guinea each."

"That still leaves five shillings."

"If only it left that, it might be worth it. But there's the new white waistcoat. An audience soon gets tired of a lecture, and then there's nothing for the wakeful ones to concentrate on but the white waistcoat of the lecturer. It must be of a virgin whiteness. Say thirty-five shillings. So I lose thirty shillings by it. Can I afford so much?"

"But you gain the acoustics and the waistcoat."

"True. Of course, if you insist----"

"Oh, you _must_," said Celia.

So I returned to the library. By tea-time I had got as far as this:--

"ADVENTURES WITH A CAMERA IN SOMALILAND.

"_Lecture delivered before the Blanktown Literary and Philo---- _"

And then I had an idea. This time a brilliant one.

"Celia," I said at tea, "I have been wondering whether I ought to take advantage of your generosity."

"What generosity?"

"In letting me deliver this lecture."

"It isn't generosity, it's swank. I want to be able to tell everybody."

"Ah, but the sacrifices you are making."

"Am I?" said Celia, with interest.

"Of course you are. Consider. I ask a fee of ten guineas. They cannot possibly charge more than a shilling a head to listen to me. It would be robbery. So that if there is to be a profit at all, as presumably they anticipate, I shall have a gate of at least two hundred and fifty."

"I should _hope_ so."

"Two hundred and fifty. And what does that mean? It means that at seven-thirty o'clock on the night of December the 8th two hundred and fifty residents of Blanktown will _turn out the electric lights in their drawing-rooms_ ... PERHAPS EVEN IN THEIR HALLS ... and proceed to the lecture-room. True, the lecture-room will be lit up--a small compensation--but not for long. When the slides of Vesuvius are thrown upon the screen----"

Celia was going pale.

"But if it's not you," she faltered, "it will be somebody else."

"No; if I refuse, it will be too late then to get a substitute. Besides they must have tried everybody else before they got down to me.... Celia, already the Zeppelin scare has shaken your stock severely; this will be the final blow. It is noble of you to sacrifice----"

"Don't go!" she cried in anguish.

I gave a deep sigh.

"For your sake," I said, "I won't."

So that settles it. If my lecture on "First Principles in Homeopathy" is ever to be delivered, it must be delivered elsewhere.

A. A. M.

* * * * *

Illustration: HERO-WORSHIP.

_Slightly soiled Urchin_, "PLEASE, MR. GENERAL, IF YER WOULDN'T MIND BENDIN' DAHN A BIT, ME AN' EMMA'D LIKE TO GIVE YER A KISS."

* * * * *

À LA RUSSE.

Every November, just as I am beginning to look sadly down the long vista of apple--apple-tart, apple-pudding, stewed apple and custard, apple-charlotte and apple-dumpling--that stretches all the way from now to rhubarb, come cranberries.

I had forgotten them, as I do every year, and the pinky-red that tinged the knife yesterday, as soon as it entered what I feared was an apple-tart, ran right up my arm and spread in a glow to my face. _Dear_ cranberries!

And doubly dear just now. How _did_ you manage it? All the way from Archangel, was it--threading your way through mines and submarines, and not a keg broken, not a cranberry exploded? Thank you, JELLICOE.

Or are you a Southern Slav, a Crim-Tartar? And did you dare the Dardanelles, give the _Goeben_ the slip, and disappoint the German ganders of their sauce? Artful ally!

Where is your home, bright berry? What are your habits? Do you push through the snow on the steppes? Do you flower in the first thaw of spring, set in full summer and ripen when the snow falls again? I think so; you have the savour of snow. I hope so; I picture the snowfields stained with your blood when you burst.

We've known too little of you, but we shall want to know more now. The Vicar _said_ the war would do good in more ways than one. _It does it now_; it sets me thinking.

Learning, too. My landlady, for whom I had composed a simple object-lesson on the value of a strong Navy, pricked all my bubbles with, "Russian, Sir? Did you say Russian? I wouldn't have a bit o' foreign fruit in the house. Them berries was picked in my sister's garden on the moors."

"Helmets galore strew the fields. Rifles, motor lorries, and field kitchens are common finds. Some day they will be collected, and--such is the scandalous heartlessness of mankind--distributed as souvenirs of the great Armageddon of 1914."--_Daily Chronicle._

In case anybody wishes to bring us home a souvenir, we are keeping a little place on our writing-desk for a field-kitchen.

* * * * *

Illustration: _Vicar_ (_his mind full of the recruiting posters_). "WILT THOU TAKE THIS WOMAN TO THY WEDDED WIFE--FOR THREE YEARS OR THE DURATION OF THE WAR?"

* * * * *

PEACE WITH HONOUR.

(_Being a slight amplification, from another quarter, of the lines addressed to "Mr. Bernard Jaw" in last week's "Punch."_)

Oft as I've wondered with a weary sigh At MR. SHAW'S incorrigible habit Of always seeing England with an eye That knows the armour's joint and where to stab it, And, sometimes taken by his style, Have half believed his taunts of guile, But oftener set them down to bile And eating too much green-stuff, like a rabbit;

I've dreamed a dream that, when the drums are still And stern Bellona, from her steel unbodiced, Regrets the overthrow of KAISER BILL (Of all strange cranks, excepting one, the oddest), Disarmament and gentleness May also come to G. B. S., And, turned from wrath, he shall confess Britain in triumph was supremely modest.

A newer, better Poland shall arise, And Schleswig-Holstein be extremely perky; Alsace-Lorraine shall look with loving eyes To a clear dawn, where now the mists are murky, And messengers of peace shall stray On Balkan mounts, and my Aunt May Has frequently been heard to say That she intends to give the Belgians Turkey.

But what of England? Shall she not bestow Quiet upon the world, and ordered measure, And take no vantage of the fallen foe In land (which is but dust) and sordid treasure? But rather of her kindness yield The balm whereby hurt wounds are healed, That couchant in the selfsame field Lion and lamb may masticate at leisure.

Let it be written in the terms of peace, And evermore on brassy tablets graven, That England shall demand no right nor lease Of frontier nor of town, nor armoured haven, But cede with unreluctant paw To Germans and to German law The whole of this egregious SHAW, And only re-annex the BARD OF AVON.

EVOE.

* * * * *

"The commission is also empowered to order the removal of advertising on existing marquises if it is deemed objectionable."

_Los Angeles Times._

Who are these marquises who are large enough for a really telling poster on the waistcoat?

* * * * *

"Here Colonel Hoffmann remarked: 'We have a feeling of absolute superiority over the Russians. We must win; we will win.'"

_Daily Mail._

Look out for our new opera, "Fairy Tales of HOFFMANN."

* * * * *

Illustration: A CHRONIC COMPLAINT.

AIDE-DE-CAMP. "'THE ENGLISH FORCE, SO PLEASE YOU.'"

KAISER. "'TAKE THY FACE HENCE.... I AM SICK AT HEART.'"

(MACBETH, Act V., Sc. 3.)

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

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

_House of Commons, Monday, 23rd November._--Dull sitting suddenly stirred to excitement by Apparition in Khaki starting up from below Gangway on Ministerial Side. It was WEDGEWOOD (_sans_ BENN). Wanted to know what advice Government are prepared to give civil population as to how they ought to behave in event of German invasion.

"Are they," asked the warlike WEDGEWOOD, "to take it lying down and let the Germans walk over them? or shall they make the best possible stand for their country?"

From above Gangway in neighbourhood of LEIF JONES' seat came tremulous voice exclaiming, "Fight!"

Thus encouraged, PARLIAMENTARY SECRETARY to War Office, who day by day grows more martial in figure and manner, pointed out that "the first duty we [meaning the Army] and the Navy have to perform is to prevent invasion. That failing, our duty is to drive the invader into the sea as fast as ever we can."

Illustration: _Mr. Tennant._ "OUR DUTY IS TO DRIVE THE INVADER INTO THE SEA."

As to action of civil population emergency committees are being formed in counties where there is danger of invasion, and instructions are being issued by them. What those instructions are TENNANT strategically declined to disclose.

After this reassuring statement Consolidated Fund Bill immediately passed second reading.

Later fresh protest, led off by Lord BOB and emphasised by BONAR LAW, against arbitrary conduct of Censor in dealing with the Press.

"We ought to stick to this till K. caves in," says the MEMBER FOR SARK. "The Press Bureau has about it stamp of things 'made in Germany.' Importation of other classes of these goods is prohibited. Let us either get rid of the Press Bureau or have it remodelled on principles of common sense, in accord with public feeling and concern for best interests of the Army."

_Business done._--Stout bundle of Bills advanced a stage.

_House of Lords, Tuesday._--The ways of the Press Censor are past finding out.

He worries the British Press day and night. He stands in the way of recognition of exceptionally gallant deeds on the battle-field by particular men or regiments. He arbitrarily strikes out passages from the letters of War Correspondents who, forbidden to approach the fighting line, laboriously pick up such scraps of information as may filter through its outskirts. He holds over for days, sometimes for weeks, official despatches from the Front, for which the Public are eagerly waiting. Occasionally, by way of exhibiting his desire that not a moment shall be lost in communicating important information, he, about midnight, by preference an hour later, dumps down upon hapless newspapers just going to press the material for whole columns of print.

This conscientiously and painstakingly done, he permits certain journals published in Ireland to circulate seditious garbage designed to stop the flow of recruiting which CARSON and JOHN REDMOND, representatives of contending national parties, have loyally united in encouraging.

In the Commons the other night attention of SOLICITOR-GENERAL, head of this new department, called to notorious matter. Protested that he knew nothing of these Irish papers. General impression in both Houses that it is time he made the acquaintance of the particular organs alluded to and took action accordingly.

* * * * *

Illustration: THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL KNOWS NOTHING OF SEDITIOUS IRISH NEWSPAPERS.

* * * * *

MIDLETON to-night in spirited speech asked what the Government proposed to do? CREWE pleaded that he must have notice of the question. CURZON, ever ready to oblige, promptly undertook to place one on notice-paper.

_Business done._--In Commons Budget Bill passed Report stage, CHANCELLOR smoothing the passage by concessions to the brewers and publicans by way of easing burden of additional taxation.

_House of Commons, Wednesday._--For some time there has been rumour, generally discredited, that Prince ALBERT, son of Prince and Princess CHRISTIAN, had taken active service with the enemy in struggle with whom the best blood of the nation is being daily outpoured. To-day YOUNG asked whether story was true? PREMIER curtly admitted it.

"Is it considered just and expedient," inquired the Member for Perthshire, amid ominous cheering, "that the British taxpayer should be called upon to pay £6,000 a year for the maintenance of a family which includes this German officer?"

"The Question," replied the PREMIER, with something less than his accustomed point in dealing with Supplementary Queries, "relates to a particular individual."

House gladly got rid of disagreeable subject. But SARK tells me that, when in due course the pension comes up in Committee of Supply, more will be heard of the matter.

_Business done._--Several War Emergency Bills advanced a stage.

_House of Lords, Thursday._--K. of K. read brief paper on Military Situation in Flanders. In matter of picturesque detail it did not quite come up to pitch of "EYE-WITNESS'S" despatches from the Front, which in the main it resembled. But it was as comforting as it was concise. Summed up in sentence the position to-day of Expeditionary Force: "Reinforcements have replaced our casualties, and the troops under Sir JOHN FRENCH, now re-fitted, are in the best of spirits, confident of success under their Leader."

Touched lightly on rout of Germans in Poland with which the world is ringing; but said nothing about capture of KAISER'S cloak. SARK suggests that this interesting robe should be put up for sale to highest bidder (as if it were the First £1 note), proceeds to be contributed to Fund for Relief of Belgians. This would give opportunity for remarking that having taken off his coat to devastate the homes of the Belgians, WILHELM gave them his cloak also.

Suggestion worth thinking about. Certainly something attractive about it in way of poetic justice.

_Business done._--In the Commons UNDER-SECRETARY FOR INDIA gave glowing account of the gallant deeds of Indian troops fighting in three continents.

_Friday._--After heartening speeches by CHANCELLOR and FIRST LORD, together going to show that "we've got the ships, we've got the men, we've got the money too," Parliament adjourned till Tuesday, February 2nd, with promise that, if necessary, it can be specially summoned at any time on six days' notice.

* * * * *

"The Germans did not even hesitate to bring up heavy artillery which quickly became embedded in the mud, some of which has since been found by our troops."

_Press Association War Special._

From what we hear, our troops have found all the mud they want.

* * * * *

"In reply to Mr. JOYNSON-HICKS, Mr. MCKENNA said:--Germans cannot land in the United Kingdom without the express permission of the Secretary of State."

New motto for Great Britain: "MCKENNA and the Navy our shield."

* * * * *

Illustration: _Shopkeeper._ "CANDLES ARE UP IN PRICE TO-DAY, Y'KNOW, MRS. O'FLYNN--ON ACCOUNT OF THE WAR."

_Mrs. O'Flynn._ "OCH! BAD CESS TO THEM GERMANS! _WHY CAN'T THEY BE FIGHTING BY DAYLIGHT_?"

* * * * *

A SERVANT OF THE KING.

"Your King and country need YOU."

"Lor!"

Tilda Perkins, her cap awry and a smudge on her diminutive nose, came to a sudden halt, arrested by the staring blue type.

"Your King and country need YOU."

That personal appeal drove straight home. Tilda's heart swelled; a flush of excitement invaded her cheeks.

"Bless 'em! They shall 'ave me," she vowed in a fervour of self-immolation.

Tightly clutching the newspaper containing her master's breakfast haddock she scudded off, ablaze with patriotic fire.

"There 'tis, Ma'am," she gasped breathlessly, plumping down her burden on the kitchen table. "An' now I'm goin'."

"Going! Where?"

"To KING GEORGE, God bless 'im. The poster ses 'e wants me."

Her mistress shook a regretful head.

"No, Tilda. It's not you and I he wants."

Gloom unutterable descended upon Tilda as her mistress expounded the situation.

"Men 'as all the luck," she jerked out. "I ain't surprised them Sufferajettes got sick o' things."

A pause.

"Still, I s'pose it ain't KING GEORGE'S fault. I'll 'elp 'im out as well as I can," she announced.

It was a resolute Tilda who awaited her swain at the kitchen door that night.

"Take off yer shoes," she said abruptly.

Jem obeyed.

"'Old up yer 'ead. Don't loll," came the sharp command.

Jem drew himself up to attention, and Tilda manipulated an inch tape.

"Sixty-three inches an' a bit. Twelves into sixty go five. Five feet three an' a scrap. You'll jest do," she said with a complacent nod.

Jem, motionless, but turning a fine blush-rose under the touch of the busy fingers, levelled an enquiring gaze at the preoccupied face.