Part 1

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 148

FEBRUARY 3, 1915.

CHARIVARIA.

"Celerity," said the German CHANCELLOR to our representative at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of paper" speech.

* * *

As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly something will have to be done for the KAISER'S Time Tables. They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War.

* * *

A German paper reports that the KAISER is in excellent health now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of Kaiser-tum.

* * *

The omission of the GERMAN EMPEROR to send a telegram of condolence to KING VICTOR EMMANUEL on the occasion of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The KAISER is said to have been anxious to create the impression that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution.

* * *

ENVER PASHA is said to have now returned to Constantinople. His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be taken by REVERS PASHA.

* * *

The EX-KHEDIVE'S war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!"

* * *

"The GERMAN EMPEROR," said General VON KRESSENSTEIN, the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined that the KAISER was Islam's stepfather.

* * *

Articles entitled "_Unser Hass gegen England_," Mr. VALENTINE WILLIAMS tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is the KAISER.

* * *

We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary association.

* * *

Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War.

* * *

We hear that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL is delighted at the success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. ASQUITH'S "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is no jealousy between politicians.

* * *

_The Observer_ is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in the country.

* * *

During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing a warehouse of such inflammable material.

* * *

The War Office, _The Express_ tells us, recently requested the borough of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the town, "Let Sunderland Quake."

* * *

Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong to the firm of Bankes and Brays.

* * *

As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success.

* * *

The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language.

* * * * *

_The Chicago Tribune_ as quoted in _The Sunday Times_:--

"'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian."

"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent.

* * * * *

"The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:--

Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'"

_Scarborough Daily Post._

We obey reluctantly.

* * * * *

* * * * *

A THOUSAND STRONG.

A thousand strong, With laugh and song, To charge the guns or line a trench, We marched away One August day, And fought beside the gallant French.

A thousand strong, But not for long; Some lie entombed in Belgian clay; Some torn by shell Lie, where they fell, Beneath the turf of La Bassée.

But yet at night, When to the fight Eager from camp and trench we throng, Our comrades dead March at our head, And still we charge, a thousand strong!

* * * * *

MOSES II.

(_To the New Lord of Islam._)

He led the Chosen People forth; Over the Red Sea tramped their legions; They wandered East, they wandered North Through very vague and tedious regions, Ploughing a lot of desolating sand Before they struck the Promised Land.

And you, who play so many parts, And figure in such fancy poses, Now, poring over Syrian charts, Dressed for the character of MOSES, In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band, Bound for another Promised Land.

Promises you have made before; And doubtless your adopted Bosches Deemed the Canal would lend its floor To pass them through without goloshes, As though it were a segment of the dry Peninsula of Sinaï.

And when they feared to lose their way You answered them with ready wit: "Oh! You'll have a pillar of cloud by day, And through the night a fiery ditto, But never said that these would be supplied By airmen on the other side."

Nor did you mention how the sun Promotes a thirst in desert places, Nor how their route was like to run A little short of green oases, Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight Have been removed by dynamite.

Nor did you let the Faithful guess That, on the Pentateuch's own showing, Israel found the wilderness Took forty years of steady going; And after two-score summers, one would think, Even a camel wants a drink.

And you yourself, if still alive And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven, Would by the date when they arrive Have touched the age of 97, And scarcely be in quite the best condition To share their labour's full fruition.

Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights, Where, stung by Furies misbegotten, You counterfeit Mosaic flights, Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton; Think how it makes the local fellah smile To hear your _Watch upon the Nile!_

O. S.

* * * * *

The Scramble.

"Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish column, inflicting loss."--_Manchester Guardian._

In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this godsend, there were many casualties.

* * * * *

The Journalistic Touch.

"This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and only a little water since the morning of December 31 _of the previous year_.--Reuter."--_Daily Chronicle._

The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture.

* * * * *

GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH.

Dear _Mr. Punch_,--I cannot for the life of me understand why your contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published.

The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others are incapacitated--we have no space to enter into all these complicated calculations here--we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures twelve million.

We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 P.M. on the 13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being wounded, have returned to the firing-line--say, half a million. Also all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the front,--say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three times wounded and have still gone back to fight--say, fifty thousand.

Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands.

After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well.

But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards (50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments and things.

Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to arrive at a final estimate.

To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face.

I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the honour to remain,

Yours faithfully, STATISTICIAN.

* * * * *

_Men we do not introduce to the Duke of WESTMINSTER_ I.--The German Minister of Finance: Dr. HELFFERICH.

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

WAR COMPUNCTION.

"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry.

"Not without feeling rather--well, rotters and outsiders," said Sinclair regretfully.

"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf."

"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was shooting pheasants a fortnight ago."

"Well, the birds were _there_, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all to the Red Cross people."

"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one should, but----"

"I haven't played since the War began," said I.

"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with old balls----"

"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in hopefully.

"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such terms as these--'THIS MAN, THOUGH HE MAY NOT LOOK IT, IS OVER 38; HE IS ALSO MEDICALLY UNFIT. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS AND A NEPHEW AT THE FRONT. HE HAS MORE THAN ONCE TAKEN THE CHAIR AT RECRUITING MEETINGS AND HE IS ENTERTAINING SEVEN BELGIANS. HE HAS ALREADY SENT THREE SWEATERS AND A PAIR OF SKI SOCKS TO THE FLEET. THIS IS THE FIRST HOLIDAY HE HAS HAD FOR THREE MONTHS, AND HE IS NOW PLAYING A ROUND OF GOLF.' Then you would feel all right."

"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is all right, and--I think--Badminton."

"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue."

"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; but we discovered after a time that if we played them _wrong_ no one objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection."

"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old things in the old ways."

"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to lunch."

"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a motor bulging with golf clubs."

"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some sandwiches and go for a long walk."

It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and managed to get in two rounds before it was dark.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ON THE SPY TRAIL.

II.

People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man said it was a Great Scott--at least that is what he said when he saw it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and sometimes like an Airedale--or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what to call it.

The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that.

A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and said, "Good old Faithful!"--just like that.

Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's bloodhound working, and he said, "_Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit_," which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every time."

Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on catching another German spy.

Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until he saw it.

The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to deploy.

Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off suddenly.

Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to moo.

Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat and made it skid a bit on the grass.

Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed.

Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that people would know it was coming, just like the Alps.

Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening.

I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would make the goat feel glad.

It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell.

There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face.

The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath.

The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. He says all goats are like that.

The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful down another road now.

* * * * *

The Two Blüchers.

A century since, joy filled our cup To hear of BLÜCHER "coming up"; To-day joy echoes round the town To hear of _Blücher_ going down.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ZEPPELIN DRILL.

I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General.

We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of boots and a coal-scuttle.

It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack.

Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for example--Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour--is making him dig a bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be more difficulty in getting her out--the hole is very deep. He said he didn't worry about that.

Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down because of the stresses and strains that would be set up.

That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was awfully black and angry when he found out.

And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather deaf and hadn't heard the shots?