Part 2

"Thank you," I said, and followed her upstairs. Little did I imagine the amazing scene which was to follow!

In the nursery my two little charges were playing with soldiers; a tall and apparently young man was lying on the floor beside them. At my entrance he scrambled to his feet.

"Stop the battle a moment," he said, "while we interrogate the invader."

"I am Fräulein Schmidt," I introduced myself, "the new governess."

"And I," he said with a bow, "am Lord Kitchener. You have arrived just in time. Another five minutes and I should have wiped out the German army."

"Oh shut up, Uncle Horace, you wouldn't," shouted one of the boys.

It was Lord Kitchener! He had shaved off his heavy moustache, and by so doing had given himself a deceptive appearance of youth, but there could be no doubt about his identity. Horatio Herbert Kitchener, the great English War Lord! In the light of after-events, how instructive was this first meeting!

"What is the game?" I asked, hiding my feelings under a smile. "England against Germany?"

"England and Scotland and Ireland and Australia and a few others. We have ransacked the nursery and raked them all in."

So even at this time England had conceived the perfidious idea of forcing her colonies to fight for her!

"And some Indian soldiers?" I asked, nodding at half-a-dozen splendid Bengal Lancers. It struck me even then as very significant; and it is now seen to be proof that for years previously England had been plotting an invasion of the Fatherland with a swarm of black mercenaries.

Lord Kitchener evidently saw what was in my mind, and immediately exerted all his well-known charm to efface the impression he had created.

"You mustn't think," he said with a smile, "that the policy of the Cabinet is in any way affected by what goes on at 'Chez Nous.' Although Sir Edward Grey and I----"

He broke off suddenly, and, in the light of what has happened since, very suspiciously.

"Have you had any tea?" he asked. His relations with the notorious Grey were evidently not to be disclosed.

* * *

I met Lord Kitchener on one other occasion, but it is only since England forced this war upon Europe that I have seen that second meeting in its proper light.

I had been out shopping, and when I came back I found him in the garden playing with the children. We talked for a little on unimportant matters, and then I saw his eye wandering from me to the drawing-room. A soldier had just stepped through the open windows on to the lawn.

"Hallo," said Lord Kitchener, "it's Johnny."

As the latter came up Lord Kitchener smacked him warmly on the back.

"Well," he said, "my martial friend, how many Germans have you killed?" Then seeing that his friend appeared a little awkward he introduced him to me. "Fräulein Schmidt, this is one of our most famous warriors--Sir John French."

I could see that Sir John French was taken aback. He had evidently come down to discuss secretly the plan of campaign against a defenceless and utterly surprised Germany, which their friend and tool, Sir Edward Grey, was to put in motion--and forthwith a German governess had been let into the secret! No wonder he was annoyed! "You silly ass," he muttered, and became very red and confused.

Lord Kitchener, however, only laughed.

"It's all right," he said; "Fräulein Schmidt is Scotch. You can talk quite freely in front of her."

It was the typical British attitude of contempt for the possible enemy. But General French showed all that stubborn caution which was afterwards to mark his handling of the British mercenaries, and which is about to cost him so dearly.

"Don't be a fool, Horace," he mumbled, and relapsed into an impenetrable silence.

* * *

Mr. Brigsworth's mother, who lived with them, was a most interesting old lady. She seemed to be in the secrets of all the Royal Family and other highly placed personages, and told me many interesting things about them. "Ah, my dear," she would say, "they tell us in the papers that King George is shooting at Windsor, but----" and then she would nod her head mysteriously. "He's a _working_ king," she went on after a little. "He doesn't waste his time on _sport_." In the light of after-events it is probable that she was right; and that when His Majesty George the Fifth was supposed to be at Windsor he was in reality in Belgium, looking out for sites for the notorious British siege-guns which have murdered so many of our brave soldiers.

In this connection I must relate one extraordinary incident. Young Mrs. Brigsworth had an album of celebrated people in the British political and social world. She was herself distantly connected, she told me, through her mother's people, with several well-known Society families, and it interested her to collect these photographs and paste them into a book. One day she was showing me her album, and I noticed that, on coming to a certain page, she turned hurriedly over, and began explaining a group on the next page very volubly.

"What was that last one?" I asked. "Wasn't it Mr. Winston Churchill?"

"Oh, that was nothing," she said quickly. "I didn't know I had that one; I must throw it away."

However, she had not been quick enough. I had seen the photograph; and events which have happened since have made it one of extraordinary significance.

It was a photograph of the First Lord of the Admiralty at Ostend in bathing costume!

As soon as I was left alone I turned to the photograph. "The First Lord amuses himself on his holiday" were the words beneath it. "Amuses himself!" Can there be any doubt in the mind of an impartial German that even then England had decided to violate the neutrality of Belgium, and that Mr. Churchill was, when photographed, examining the possibilities of Ostend as a base for submarines?

No wonder Mrs. Brigsworth had hurriedly turned over the page!

A. A. M.

* * * * *

"When the war was declared, 25,000 Bedouins were recruited in Hebrun, but they were without food for three days and returned to their homes saying this was not a Holy War."--_Peshawar Daily News_.

Their actual words were: "This is a----" well, _not_ a Holy War.

* * * * *

* * * * *

CHALK AND FLINT.

Comes there now a mighty rally From the weald and from the coast, Down from cliff and up from valley, Spirits of an ancient host; Castle grey and village mellow, Coastguard's track and shepherd's fold, Crumbling church and cracked martello Echo to this chant of old-- Chant of knight and chant of bowman: _Kent and Sussex feared no foeman In the valiant days of old!_

Screaming gull and lark a-singing, Bubbling brook and booming sea, Church and cattle bells a-ringing Swell the ghostly melody; "Chalk and flint, Sirs, lie beneath ye, Mingling with our dust below! Chalk and flint, Sirs, they bequeath ye This our chant of long ago!" Chant of knight and chant of bowman, Chant of squire and chant of yeoman: _Kent and Sussex feared no foeman In the days of long ago!_

Hills that heed not Time or weather, Sussex down and Kentish lane, Roads that wind through marsh and heather Feel the mail-shod feet again; Chalk and flint their dead are giving-- Spectres grim and spectres bold-- Marching on to cheer the living With their battle-chant of old-- Chant of knight and chant of bowman, Chant of squire and chant of yeoman: _Witness Norman! Witness Roman! Kent and Sussex feared no foeman In the valiant days of old._

* * * * *

"WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS?"

Those who wish to give practical expression to the approval of the scheme for raising Military Bands to encourage recruiting--the subject of one of _Mr. Punch's_ cartoons of last week--are earnestly invited to send contributions to the LORD MAYOR at the Mansion House. Further information may be obtained at the offices of "Recruiting Bands," 16, Regent Street, S.W.

* * * * *

From a schoolboy's essay on the War:--

"When the Germans lose a few ships they make rye faces."

This kind of face comes, we believe, from the eating of the official War-bread.

* * * * *

Hint to the Germans at St. Mihiel:--

"Alas! what boots it with incessant care To strictly meditate the thankless Meuse?" _Milton: "Lycidas."_

* * * * *

* * * * *

OUR PERSONAL COLUMN.

Many of the other papers have a Personal Column. Why should not _Mr. Punch_ have one?

He shall.

* * *

MLLE. FORGETMÉNOT bien arrivée à Londres le 14 Février. Où est M. Valentin?

* * *

K.--Qte uslss apply frthr. Am absltly brke. Try yr uncl.--M.

* * *

JEHOSHAPHAT.--Will all Jehoshaphats combine to send bridge tables to the Front for use of brave boys? Subscriptions, limited to £10 each, should be sent to Jehoshaphat Downie, Esq., 25, Sun Row, Chelsea.

* * *

FLORENCE.--I was there and waited from 1.30 till midnight. Cannot do this often as I have tendency to pneumonia.

* * *

WILL anyone lend young man £500 on note of hand alone to enable him to procure clothes in which to present himself at recruiting office? Nothing but shabbiness of his wardrobe keeps him from enlisting.--Box 41, Office of this paper.

* * *

FOUND in neighbourhood of the Adelphi.--An Iron Cross, evidently awarded by the KAISER. Initials upon it, "G. B. S." The owner is anxiously invited to apply for it in person.--E. G., Foreign Office.

* * *

SHIRTS for our troops at the Front are still urgently needed. Please send needles, cotton and material to Sister Susie, Drury Lane Theatre, W.C. All persons desiring to sing about her activities should note that the song is not published by Brothers Boosey but by another firm.

* * *

LOST, Wednesday, February 10th, between Acton and Blackheath, a one-pound note, signed by John Bradbury.--Anyone returning the same to X, at the Widowers' Club, will receive 1/- reward and no questions asked.

* * *

SMITH.--Will everyone named Smith at once send a sovereign to John Smith, Esq., 103, Old Jewry, E.C.? Patriotic purpose to which money will be put will be explained later.

* * *

WIFE of popular actor now serving in France would much appreciate the loan of a London house, with servants and motor car thrown in.--Box 81, Office of this paper.

* * *

A.B.C.--Please make no further effort to meet me. The depth of my loathing for you can never be expressed in words, at least not in this column.--J.

* * *

POLLIES.--Will all the Pollies of England kindly help a poor Polly to continue her lessons in voice production.--Write POLLY, 2, Birdcage Walk.

* * *

TO OFFICERS and MEN whose letters contain good vivid accounts of picturesque occurrences at the Front. _The Daily Inexactitude_ places no limit on the writer's imagination.

* * *

YOUNG MAN, full of fun and robust health, who has failed in everything he has yet undertaken and does not approve of warfare, would like situation as gamekeeper and rabbit-killer to wealthy absentee landowner.--Apply Box 29, Office of this paper.

* * * * *

The _Berlin Lokal-Anzeiger_, speaking of the four Turks who succeeded in crossing the Suez Canal and who have since been taken prisoners, says: "It is to be hoped that the four gallant Turkish swimmers will now do good work in Egypt."

We have no doubt that work will be found for them and that the prison authorities will shield them from the dangers of a life of indulgent idleness.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

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

_House of Commons, Monday, 8th February._--Debate on Army Estimates prefaced by statement from PRIME MINISTER casting gleam of lurid light on a War of which this is the 190th day. Answering a question he said the total number of British Army casualties in the Western area of the War is approximately 104,000 of all ranks. This, of course, does not include the death-roll in the Navy, a heavy tale of losses due far more to mine and submarine than to fair fights on the open sea. But standing alone it is not much less than one-half of the number of men, including Militia, voted in the Waterloo year now dead a century. Numerically a trifle compared with the huge gaps made in ranks of the enemy. Nevertheless it represents sufficiently appalling sacrifice, chargeable to the account of one man's whim.

Army Estimates for year, introduced by TENNANT in a speech equally lucid and discreet, unique in their Parliamentary aspect. With an Army on active service and in training exceeding in number the wildest dreams of MARLBOROUGH or WELLINGTON, the aggregate sum asked for is £15,000. Seems odd since, as UNDER SECRETARY FOR WAR in interesting aside stated, the Army costs more in a week than the total estimate for the Waterloo campaign, which stands on record at the modest sum of £6,721,880.

This only a little official joke designed partly to relieve tension of critical times, chiefly to throw dust in eyes of enemy. Idea of Germany cherished at War Office is that she is a sort of innocent Little Red Riding Hood whose legitimate curiosity may be evaded either by withholding information or mystifying it by administration of small doses dealt out at safe intervals of time. Hence the Press Bureau, which to-night came in for rough handling from both sides of House.

If usual detailed account of expenditure on Army were set forth, the German General Staff would know exactly what was in front of them in respect of reinforcement of the "contemptible little army" which seven months ago embarked upon a crusade more self-sacrificing, more glorious than any recorded in the story of Britain. Failing that, they naturally know nothing and will go on blundering in the dark.

Accordingly Votes submitted to-night were what the Treasury calls "token" estimates, each thousand pounds of the fifteen representing untold millions to be expended on various services of the War. On this understanding, Committee, practically without debate, amidst stern but quietly expressed determination to go on to the end at whatever cost, voted an establishment of three million men.

_Business done._--Army Estimates in Committee of Supply.

_Tuesday._--For first time since reassembling House sat up to closing hour, 11 o'clock. Discussion of Army Estimates resumed. Committee has advantage of WALTER LONG'S lead of Opposition. Shrewd, tactful, conciliatory. Among miscellaneous Questions coming up was condition of some of the huts contracted for by War Office. WALTER LONG associated himself with sharp criticism offered from various quarters.

The MEMBER FOR SARK regrets that engagement out of town prevented his taking part in the discussion.

"I happen to know something at first hand about the matter," he says. "I spend my week-ends in a district which, lying on direct route for the Front, swarms with detachments of recruits in training. In the late autumn, huts were built for their accommodation. Quite nice comfortable things to look at. Some stand on desirable sites overlooking land and sea.

"All very well as long as autumn weather lasted. But the winter told another tale. Season exceptionally wet. Sinful rottenness of these so-called habitations speedily discovered. Rain poured through the roofs as if they were made of brown paper. Nor was that all, though our poor fellows found it sufficient. When wind blew with any force it carried the rain through the walls of the huts, formed of thin laths, in some cases overlapping each other by not more than a quarter of an inch. Pitilessly rained upon in their beds, the men dressing for morning parade found their khaki uniforms and underclothing soaking wet. After this had been stood for a week or ten days, the huts were condemned and the recruits billeted upon inhabitants of neighbouring town.

"This not mere gossip, you understand. Circumstances simply related to me by the men themselves, some interrupting narrative with fits of coughing inevitable result of nightly experience. Nor were they complaining. Just mentioned the matter as presumably unavoidable episode in preliminary stage of career of men giving up all and risking their lives to save their country.

"What I want to know is, What has been done in particular cases such as this that must have come under notice of War Office? Have the contractors got clear away without punishment, or have they been made to disgorge? FINANCIAL SECRETARY TO WAR OFFICE stated in course of debate that average cost of these encampments amounted to £13 per man. In cases where huts are condemned, is the sorely-burdened but cheerfully-suffering taxpayer finding the money all over again, or is the peccant contractor made to stump up?"

_Business done._--Still harping on Army Estimates.

_House of Lords, Thursday._--Death of Lord LONDONDERRY, buried to-day near his English home, Wynyard Park, universally regretted. A strong Party man, he had no personal enemies in the Opposition ranks, whether in Lords or Commons. Unlike some distinguished Peers, notably Lord ROSEBERY, he enjoyed advantage, inestimable in public life, of serving an apprenticeship in the House of Commons, where he sat six years for the Irish constituency which his famous forebear represented in the Irish Parliament. He was born into politics. His earliest conviction, thorough as were all he entertained, was one of distrust for DON JOSÉ, who at the time when he sat in the House of Commons was carrying through the country the fiery cross of The Unauthorised Programme.

This feeling later replaced by dislike of GLADSTONE, who in the year after Lord CASTLEREAGH, at the age of thirty-two, succeeded to the Marquisate, brought in his Home Rule Bill.

That was the turning point in LONDONDERRY's public life. Hitherto he had toyed with politics as part of the recreation of a wealthy aristocrat. Thenceforward he devoted himself heart and soul to withstanding the advance of Home Rule, which he lived long enough to see enacted, Death sparing him the pang of living under its administration.

In his devotion to the fighting line rallied against Home Rule he was encouraged and sustained by a power behind the domestic throne perhaps, as has happened in historical cases, more dominant than its occupant. _Cherchez la femme._ Londonderry House became the spring and centre of an influence that had considerable effect upon political events during more than a quarter of a century.

LONDONDERRY's cheery presence will be missed in the Lords. His memory will be cherished as that of one who fought stoutly for causes sacred to a large majority of his peers.

_Business done._--PREMIER made promised statement on subject of food prices. Debate following was adjourned.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A Flower of Speech.

"Mr. Asquith stated in the House of Commons this afternoon that the Government were considering taking more stringent measures against German trade as a consequence of the latter's fragrant breach of the rules of war."--_Star._

Fragrant is the parliamentary way of putting it.

* * * "German Togoland, whose aspirations towards nationality have been again aroused by the recent promises of the Czar, is destined to be for us part of a new European state under the protection of Russia." _Leader_ (_B. E. Africa_).

The fate of German Pololand in Africa will be decided in our next.

* * * "Mr. Murphy asked what would be the cost of doing these works.

Surveyor--I cannot say vbgkqis shr me." _Wicklow Newsletter._

Neither can we, but we should never have thought of mentioning it to Mr. MURPHY at this juncture.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA.

V.

MY DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Our Battalion has gone. It has called back to the ranks all but a few of its soldier clerks. Even as I write it is racing through the darkness across the Indian plains to its new station. I can almost hear the grinding thunder of the wheels; the thud of men sleeping on the seats as they roll off and crash upon men sleeping on the floors; the pungent oaths mingling with the shriek of the engine whistle ... and I am left behind in the Divisional Staff Office and attached to another Territorial unit just arrived from England. Woe is me!

I paid a last visit to the barracks to see my comrades before they left. They were well and cheerful, but all suffering from a singular delusion. When I expressed regret that I was not accompanying them owing to the fact that my services could not be spared from the Office, they all assured me with perfect gravity that this was not the real explanation of my being left behind. While I have been plying the pen, they, it appears, have reached such a state of military proficiency that to re-introduce me into the ranks at this stage would have had a most disintegrating effect upon the _moral_ of the entire Battalion.

It was hard on me, they were prepared to admit, but efficiency must come first. When, very shortly, they march down _Unter den Linden_ I must surely recognise how very disastrous it would be for me to be there with my rifle at an unprofessional slope. It would be so noticeable in the pictures afterwards.

They were all full of kindly commiseration about my future. They, of course, will presently be leaving for the Front. England will ring from end to end with the story of their prowess. In six weeks they will have beaten the Germans to a standstill. Then--best of all--they will return home, covered with glory and medals, to be received with frantic demonstrations of joy, affection and adulation.

Several years later, I gather, I may (if exceptionally lucky) return to England unhonoured and unsung, with indelible inkstains on my fingers and three vaccination marks on my left forearm as my only mementoes of the Great War. On the other hand, having got fairly into the grip of the Indian Government, it is quite likely that I shall end my days here.

Perceiving my chagrin at this prospect, one of them generously promised to present me with a few Iron Crosses which he anticipates collecting on the battlefield. But this gift, he was at pains to point out, was contingent upon the very improbable circumstance of my surviving plague, dysentery, enteric, smallpox, heat apoplexy, snakebite and other perils of a prolonged sojourn in India.

In the immediate future I can unfortunately see for myself that my prospects are of the gloomiest. When I mildly suggested to my Colour Sergeant that he should send me my pay by post each week from the new station, he stared at me fixedly and reminded me with unnecessary and offensive emphasis that I was now attached to another regiment, and that he had finally and thankfully washed his hands of all responsibility concerning me. When I sought out my new Colour, he informed me even more emphatically that I was merely attached to his company for disciplinary purposes and that it was blooming well useless for me to look to him for pay. So there I am.