Chapter 2

"O-o-h! I thought you said 'quadrille'. But I know the turns. Right turn, I turn to the right; left turn, I turn to the left; about turn, I turn just about, but not quite; form fours, I form--excuse me, but how does _one_ man form fours?"

"There will, of course, be others," replied the Inspector. "You'll soon pick it up. And please state at what hours of the day you would be prepared to take duty."

"Well," I said, "I've practically nothing to do from the time I get up--half-past ten--until mid-day. I could also manage to spare half-an-hour between afternoon-tea and dinner. And I could just drop in here about eleven at night to see if things were going along all right. Now, if you'll kindly fetch me a bull's-eye lantern, a life-preserver, a bullet-proof tunic, some indiarubber boots, a revolver, and a letter of introduction to some of the most skilful cooks in the neighbourhood I can put in one crowded hour of joyous life before I'm due on the links."

"Just a moment," said the Inspector. "I don't want to discourage you, but kindly cast your eye over these paragraphs;" and he handed me a printed circular. "You will see that it will be necessary for you to perform four consecutive hours' duty."

"Good heavens," I exclaimed, "I don't think I shall be able to manage that. I'm in the middle of an important jig-saw; I'm expecting a new motor-car to arrive any minute; and I have a slight head-cold. However, if my country calls me, I will see what can be arranged."

I noticed the Inspector's look of admiration at my bull-dog resolution, so to hide my blushes I perused the circular.

"I see," I said, "that we are each supplied with 'one armlet.' What's an armlet?".

"A badge that goes round your arm."

"Of course! How stupid of me! Just like a bracelet goes round one's--no, that won't do. Just like a gimlet goes--no, that doesn't either. I can't think of a simile, but I quite understand. Then we have 'one whistle.' What's that for? To whistle on if I feel lonely?"

"To summon assistance if you should require it."

"I have an idea that my whistle will be overworked. Shall I be able to get a new one when the original's worn out?"

The Inspector thought there would be no difficulty in my getting rewhistled.

"'One truncheon,'" I continued. "That, of course, is to trunch with. One truncheon, though, seems rather niggardly. I should prefer two, one in each hand. 'One note-book'--is that for autographs and original contributions from my brother Specials?"

"For noting names and addresses and details of cases," explained the Inspector. "For instance, if, when on duty, you saw Jack Johnson committing a breach of the peace you would--"

"Blow my whistle hard--"

"Certainly not. You would take his name and address and note it down."

"And if he refused it I could then whistle for help?"

"No, you would at once arrest him."

"What's the earliest possible moment at which it would be etiquette to blow my whistle?"

"When he offered resistance. Then you could whistle."

"No, I couldn't," I said, "not unless my equipment included one pair of bellows. Do you mean to tell me that I should be expected to arrest a man of infinitely superior physique to my own with no other weapons than one armlet, one whistle, one truncheon and one note-book? Surely I should be allowed to run for the Mayor and get him to read the Riot Act? If not, I can only say a policeman's lot is----"

"Not a happy one?" put in the Inspector.

"I was going to say a policeman's lot is a lot too much. Would you kindly cross my name off your list?"

"I crossed it off some minutes ago," replied the Inspector.

* * * * *

THE WATCH DOGS.

II.

DEAR CHARLES,--Another letter from the back of the front for you. You will be glad to hear that your Terrier is settling down in his temporary kennel and sharpening his teeth in due course. The time will come when you may look your gift dog in the mouth and be not disappointed, we hope, by the view.

We received orders a day or two ago to take up our beds and walk; that is, a couple of officers and a hundred odd of the men were told off to execute a flank movement on a neighbouring township where there is a range, and do our damnedest with the poor old targets. So we put our oddments in our pillow-case, rolled up our bedrooms into a convenient bundle and trekked. We were assured that we should be back at our base within the week, but we have learnt to take no chances. We have but one form of movement, the _tout ensemble_.

It is quite refreshing to step, over a hundred strong, into a village with no pre-arranged scheme of board and lodging. Like every other wanderer in a strange part, we turn first to the policeman. We march towards him at attention; we call a halt at the base of his feet, and then, with the courtesy of the gentleman and the brevity of the soldier, we inform him that we have arrived. The next development is up to him.

It is not to him, however, that we owe our temporary rest. It is to that irrepressible and indefatigable unit, the Boy Scout. Charles, I believe we'd all be lying out in the rain at this moment but for that assistance. The equipment of the Boy Scout on billeting duty consists of a piece of white chalk and a menacing demeanour. Thus armed, he knocks at every likely door, wishes the householder a good morning and registers on the door-frame the number of men that may be left till called for within, even while the policeman is still endeavouring to explain the international situation and the military exigencies to the slow-thinking rustic. Many formidable obstacles lie in our path, we know, but we are comforted by the thought that the Boy Scout isn't one of them. If, in the next generation, Britain continues to exist as a nation and not as a depot for the training of waiters in the Berlin restaurants, then indeed we shall have something to rely on in these adaptable young fellows.

The host upon whom we officers were thrust was quite polite as long as our Boy Scout stood by, but, left to himself, turned out crusty. He was rather too old to turn into the perfect hotel proprietor all in a minute, and, as he put it, "he couldn't see his way" to do this and that for us. He was prepared to do all he had to do, but no more. Unfortunately we were not as well up in the regulations as our youthful and now departed protector. So we went out and did a bit of billeting on our own. It is an odd experience, this knocking at somebody's door and, upon being asked what one has come for, answering, "To stay." For ourselves we thought that the Rector would be a good man to experiment on. These parsons are used to being victimised and are known not to be too harsh upon the delinquent. So off we went to the Rectory, significantly handling our hilts and twirling our military stubbles. But the essence of war is surprise, and it was the Rector's wife who confronted our attack.

I said, upon enquiry, that I couldn't say what we wanted but placed myself unreservedly in my colleague's hands. I then took a pace to the rear and prepared to retire in good order. Robertson's whole efforts were concentrated on refraining from taking off his cap, as behoves a gentleman, but not an officer, and the Rector's wife remained amiable but on the defensive. Charles, our position was a hopeless one and our careers had concluded then and there but for the arrival of the ally. Boy Scouts are as tactful as they are forgiving; he accepted our explanation and apology to himself and he explained for us and apologised to the Rector's wife. It was little he had to say, for never was a less reluctant and more efficient billettee. This kind lady has not only made our sojourn one long series of simple luxuries, she has been through the whole of our kit and washed and repaired the lot. Think what you may about the Church when you are a civilian in affluence, but when you are a soldier in distress turn to it first for succour.

Lastly, a minor incident of a regretable nature. Halting on the march yesterday for our transport to catch up (our transport is known as Lieutenant Pearson's Circus) I discovered one of our dusty thirsty warriors having made his illegal entrance into a public-house by an emergency door. There he stood with a glisten in his eyes and his hand just about to grasp the pewter pot! Out he went under sentence of death by slow torture, and there was I left, with a thirst such as I have never before believed to be possible, alone with a pewter pot, with the foam just brimming over the top ... alone, unseen, undiscoverable ...

Your fallen Friend, HENRY.

* * * * *

Illustration: THE LANGUAGE OF THE HOUR.

_Irate Lady (firing Parthian shot after marital misunderstanding)._ "Yer--yer bloomin' Oolan!"

* * * * *

LITERARY GOSSIP.

The Autumn publishing season will undoubtedly be affected by the war, several firms having decided to withhold most of their forthcoming books. Messrs. Odder and Thynne, however, being convinced that the reading public cannot subsist entirely on newspapers, have with great public spirit resolved to publish their full programme, which is unusually full of works of interest.

* * * * *

The foremost place in their list is allotted to Principal Toshley Potts's volume of essays, which bear the attractive title of _The Hill of Havering_. Principal Potts was recently hailed by Sir NICHOLSON ROBERTS as "the Scots A. C. Benson," and this felicitous analogy will, we feel sure, be triumphantly vindicated by the contents of this epoch-making work, which by the way is dedicated to Dr. Emery Cawker, of the University of Brashville, Ga.

* * * * *

Another work of outstanding significance is a volume of poems, entitled _Kailyard Carols_, from the accomplished pen of Mr. Alan Bodgers, whom Mr. DAVID LYALL, in a three-column article in the _Penman_, recently declared to be the finest lyric poet since SHELLEY, and Mr. LYALL seldom makes a mistake. Mr. Bodgers, it may be added, is the sub-editor of the _Kilspindie Courant_, and has a handicap of twenty-two at the local golf club.

* * * * *

Very welcome also is the announcement that Professor Hector McGollop has undertaken to edit a series of Manuals of Moral Uplift, to which he will contribute the opening volume on _The Art of Unction_. Other contributors to the series are Dr. Talisker Dinwiddie, Principal Marcus Tonks and the Rev. Bandley Chadd.

* * * * *

In the department of fiction the most remarkable of the novelties promised by Messrs. Odder and Thynne is _The Nut's Progress_, by Mr. EWAN STRAW. It will be remembered that in a four-column review of Mr. STRAW'S last book, _Nothing Doing_, which appeared in the Xmas number of the _Book Booster_, Sir CLEMENT SHORTHOUSE declared that this talented fictionist combined the lilt of FRANK SMEDLEY (the author of _Frank Fairleigh_) with the whimsicality of BARRIE and the austere morality of ANNIE SWAN. Otherwise we may be sure the firm of Odder and Thynne would never have published a work with so risky a title.

* * * * *

PERHAPS.

Of wolves that wear sheep's clothing The world has long been full, But I've a special loathing For one in Berlin wool.

Although the wool may cover Not more than half the beast, Perhaps when all is over He'll be entirely fleeced.

W. W.

* * * * *

"MAGNIFICENT BEQUEST TO THE LOUVRE. Sunspot Visible to the Naked Eye."

_Times._

France seems to have acquired Germany's spot in the sun.

* * * * *

Illustration: _Ethel (in apprehensive whisper which easily reaches her German governess, to whom she is deeply attached)._ "MOTHER, SHALL WE HAVE TO KILL FRAeULEIN?"

* * * * *

REASONING IN THE RANKS.

[_Several journals have pointed out that the type of recruit now offering himself is in a high degree capable of reasoning and initiative._]

"Now I want any of you who are puzzled about anything to ask questions about it," said the instructing sergeant-major ... and anon:

"Right about, Number 3 of the front rank! There is no such thing as left about turn. Squad, form----"

"Excuse me," interrupted Number 3, "but why do you say that there is no such thing as left about turn?"

"Because there isn't," said the sergeant-major unsympathetically.

"But, my good man," urged Number 3, "there must be. I've just done it. Why, look here!"

He did it again.

"Such a movement is not in the drill-book," said the sergeant-major curtly.

"But," protested Number 3, "you told us yourself only yesterday that very few of the total possible commands _are_ in the drill-book. For instance, there is no provision for lining a railway embankment, often, I understand, a salutary and even vital evolution."

The sergeant-major considered.

"There's no use," he said at last weightily, "'avin' _two_ ways of doin' anything when one will do. It is generally considered that right about turn is enough ways of turning about for any one man."

"By all means," admitted the recruit generously, "let us be frugal. Frugality is the mainspring of efficiency. One way of turning about is ample for me. But why right rather than left?"

"Because right's right, and that's all there is to it," said the sergeant-major, who was tiring of the argument.

"Exactly," admitted Number 3, "and left's left, and _that_ leaves us just where we started. Now if the War Office had tossed up and made a general decision in favour of right I could understand the position. But my impression is that this is not so. Thus, if I were to step off with the right foot----"

"Shut your face," said the sergeant-major, "and do what you're told. Squad! A-bout---- Turn!"

"Reasoning," observed Number 3, "is lost upon yonder survival of the old school of stereotyped militarism. The hour for initiative has arrived."

And by way of protest he executed a neat left about turn.

* * * * *

GUNS OF VERDUN

Guns of Verdun point to Metz From the plated parapets; Guns of Metz grin back again O'er the fields of fair Lorraine.

Guns of Metz are long and grey Growling through a summer day; Guns of Verdun, grey and long, Boom an echo of their song.

Guns of Metz to Verdun roar, "Sisters, you shall foot the score;" Guns of Verdun say to Metz, "Fear not, for we pay our debts."

Guns of Metz they grumble, "When?" Guns of Verdun answer then, "Sisters, when to guard Lorraine Gunners lay you East again!"

* * * * *

Illustration: AT THE POST OF HONOUR.

LIBERTY (_to Belgium_)--"TAKE COMFORT. YOUR COURAGE IS VINDICATED; YOUR WRONGS SHALL BE AVENGED."

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

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

_House of Lords, Tuesday, Aug. 25._--After fortnight's recess Parliament meets again. Scene mightily changed. At time of adjournment country on brink of war. Now in thick of it.

Contrary to custom interest centred in Chamber at this end of corridor. Man of the moment is the tall strongly-framed figure that enters on stroke of appointed hour and marches with soldierly step to Ministerial Bench. This is KITCHENER, Secretary of State for War, primed with message from the Army which, making its first stand at Mons, had a baptism of fire that lasted thirty-six hours.

With characteristic modesty the new Minister seated himself at lower end of Bench. CREWE presently arriving signalled him to come up higher. Accordingly seated himself next to LEADER OF HOUSE. Thence rose at half-past four to make his maiden speech, a deliverance effected under rarely momentous circumstances. Brought with him one of those "scraps of paper" which the KAISER scorns when they contain such trifling matter as a solemn treaty with a neighbouring nation. On this KITCHENER, more at home on the battlefield than in a place where a man's business is to talk, had written his speech.

It was brief, manly, simple. Made haste to point out that, though associated with the Cabinet, holding high office in the Government, his appearance on the Ministerial Bench did not imply that he belonged to any political party.

"As a soldier," he said, "I have no politics."

House startled to hear him add that his occupation of the post of Secretary of State for War is temporary. Terms of his service are those of the recruits for the new Army. He is engaged to serve during the war. If it lasts longer than three years, then for three years only.

Faced by grim suggestion that the war just opening may last for three years, a deeper gravity fell over listening House. KITCHENER pre-eminently a man who knows what he is talking about. And here he was in level tones, unruffled manner, taking into account the contingency of the war lasting three years.

That this was no idle conjecture, rather a well-thought-out possibility intelligently provided for, appeared when he went on to describe how the contingency must be faced. The enemy had already brought his full resources into the field. It was a maximum which, after a succession of days like last Sunday, must necessarily diminish. On the other hand, whilst we have put a comparatively small force afoot, there is behind it, at home and in the Colonies, a vast reserve which, diligently trained and organised, will steadily reinforce the fighting line. In the course of six or seven months there will be a total of thirty divisions, continually kept up to full fighting strength.

Nor was that all.

"If," said the soldier-Minister, "the war be protracted, and if its fortune be varied or adverse, exertions and sacrifices beyond any already demanded will be required from the whole nation and Empire."

Ominous words increasing prevalent gloom. At least satisfactory to know that in his official communications KITCHENER will always cheer us by presenting to closest view the worst that has actually happened or is possibly in store.

_Business done._--KITCHENER makes his maiden speech.

Illustration: ANOTHER "SCRAP OF PAPER." (K. of K.)

_House of Commons, Wednesday._--No one looking in on House this afternoon would imagine that the country is engaged in an armed fight, issues of which will in one direction or another transform the aspect of Europe. Atmosphere unruffled. "Business as usual" the order of the day.

Pretty full attendance considering House has with brief intervals been in session since February and meets again at what in normal times would be period of full recess. PREMIER on Treasury Bench at opening of sitting. Having answered a few questions, withdrew to his private room and was no more seen.

LLOYD GEORGE, left in charge, moved through various stages series of emergency measures.

On Currency and Bank Note Bill question of design of new twenty-shilling and ten-shilling notes came up. Some disrespectful things said of it. CHANCELLOR OF EXCHEQUER admitted its imperfection but pleaded that in the hurried circumstances of the day it was the best that could be done. Exception especially taken on score that the design made forgery easy. Here the CHANCELLOR differed.

"I have been told by an expert in these matters," he said, with the pleased air of one recalling the dictum of a respected friend, "that the plainer the design on a note the more difficult it is to forge it."

All the same the notes are to be called in and replaced.

_Business done._--Second reading of Bill giving Government blank cheque for meeting expenses of war carried without debate or division.

_Thursday._--PREMIER'S surpassing gift of speech, equally concise and eloquent, never more brilliantly displayed than this afternoon. Proposed Resolution conveying expression of sympathy and admiration for heroic resistance offered by the Belgian Army and people to wanton invasion of their territory. In speech that occupied less than ten minutes in delivery the PREMIER, himself moved to loftiest pitch of righteous indignation, touched deepest feelings of a crowded House.

Referring to Great Britain's intervention in "a quarrel in which it had no direct concern," he pointed out that the country threw away the scabbard only when confronted by necessity of choice between keeping and breaking solemn obligations, between the discharge of a binding trust and a shameless subservience.

A deep-throated cheer approved his emphatic declaration, "We do not repent our decision."

Cheers rang forth again when in another fine passage he said, "The Belgians have won for themselves the immortal glory which belongs to a people who prefer freedom to ease, to security, even to life itself. We are proud of their alliance and their friendship. We salute them with respect and honour. We are with them heart and soul."

Difficult to follow outburst of genuine eloquence like this, delivered with thrilling force. BONAR LAW in equally brief speech voiced hearty acquiescence of Opposition in Resolution. JOHN REDMOND, associating Ireland whole-heartedly with it, made practical suggestion, that, instead of lending Belgium ten millions as proposed, we should hand the money over to her as a free gift, an instalment of a just debt.

_Business done._--More Emergency Bills advanced by stages. Ominous hint of fresh taxation dropped by CHANCELLOR.

* * * * *

Illustration: FOR NEUTRAL CONSUMPTION.

* * * * *

Illustration: GERMAN KAISER. "We are not satisfied with Our moustache; it seems to need support on the Eastern side."

* * * * *

BLANCHE'S LETTERS

THE WAR SPIRIT

_Park Lane._

DEAREST DAPHNE,--There was a big party of us at the Clackmannans' Scotch place, Blairbinkie, when all these fearful things began to happen--and now where are we all? The Flummery boys and ever so many more of the party are at the front with their regiments. The Duke of Clackmannan is at the head of the Clackmannan Yeomanry. Norty's gone off to help take care of the East coast, and it's lucky to have _him_ helping to protect it and keep watch, for if there's _anybody_ who could see things coming sooner than anybody else it's Norty!

Stella, Beryl, Babs and your Blanche are all back in Town, and when we're not taking lessons in nursing we're sewing at flannel. I make Yvonne do my hair quite, _quite_ plainly, and I'm giving my jewels to my country. I've already given my dear collar of pearls. I gave that first because I love it best of all my jewels, because it can _never_ be replaced, and because pearls suit me better than _any_ other stone.

All our first fingers are covered with pricks and look immensely horrid, but we glory in it and won't even put any cold cream on them! As I said yesterday afternoon, when we were all sewing away at flannel, if _any_ woman, I don't care _who_, offered me her hand and I saw that the first finger was _smooth_ I'd refuse to take it! Beryl must needs weigh in with, "But, my dear Blanche, she wouldn't offer you her _left_ hand! It's the _left_ forefinger that gets punished in needlework." "The principle is the same," I answered coldly. "And besides, some people are left-handed." Beryl has decent qualities, I know, and one doesn't want to find fault with anyone just now, but she was always like that--and her _hemming_, dearest!

Babs is wild to go to the front, but I say she'd be only a nuisance until she knows more about nursing. Someone told me the other day, _a propos_ of untrained women going to the front and hindering instead of helping, that during the last war a poor dear in one of the hospitals had his hair parted _fifty_ times in an hour by _fifty_ different people, and nearly got brain-fever.