Chapter 3

But she disdained flamboyant types and snubbed the gay and gildy brand; Instead she loved a decadent whose pagan name was Hildebrand, Until that sad occasion when she met him coming back o' night, His system loaded up with bhang and opium and aconite.

VI.

An artist next attracted her; she turned on her cajoleries, And soon in unison they laughed at other people's drolleries; His speech was polychromous (as the speech of many a carman is); He mostly talked of masses, lights, half-tones and colour-harmonies; That was his doom, for one fine day he went to his sarcophagus, The word "_chiaroscuro_" stuck deep down in his oesophagus.

VII.

I do not know; it may have been her hose that took poor Rendall in, Who previously had flirted with her elder sister, Gwendoline. This Rendall was a wholesale dealer, very rich and large in all His habits, though he always said his profits were but marginal. Well, Rendall kept on waddling round her, like a tired and tardy yak; His movements showed beyond a doubt that his disease was cardiac; He took her on the river; after thinking for a time, aloud He said, "I will propose to you; that is, of course, if I'm allowed."

VIII.

And she replied, "If I were going to propose, I'm blest if I Would personate an elder who is just about to testify. Now first of all I must remark that Love has come to grip you late In life, but, passing over that, I've certain things to stipulate: You must exhibit interest, as even Goth or Vandal would, In curios and bric-à-brac, in ivories and sandalwood; And you must cope with cameo, veneer, relief and lacquer (Ah! And, parenthetically, pay my debts at bridge and baccarat). I dote on Futurism, and so a mate would give me little ease Whose views were strictly orthodox on MYRON and PRAXITELES. You do not understand," she sneered, "so gross is your fatuity; Well then, I answer 'No,' without a trace of ambiguity."

IX.

And Rendall turned back sad at heart; but in a stride his honey-bee Was in his arms exclaiming, "Then would wasted all your money be. Come, I will take you with your faults and try to make the best of you; Your purse is good; perhaps in time I may improve the rest of you."

[_Publishers' Note_.

Readers who are not sated yet and still for more are hungering Will find Vol. II. describe how E. gave cause for scandal-mongering. Vol. III. narrates how R. became enamoured of a fairy at A ball, was robbed of all his wealth and joined the proletariat. How E. washed clothes to earn her bread, while R. reclined in beery ease Upon his bed, will be exposed in Vol. IV. of this series. And further volumes show exactly what was worst and best in E., And how at last, aged eighty-four, she found her life's true destiny.]

* * * * *

A SIDE-SLIP.

"Just before the war we were in danger of having the ugly and even abominable word 'aviator' fostered upon us. Just as that word seemed victorious, _The Times_ suddenly announced that it had decided once and for all to use 'airman' instead, and there can be no doubt that the example there set, which was copied by journalists on other papers, secured the predominance of a good new English word over a deformed importation."--_Times Literary Supplement_.

"The volume contains some 500 portraits of New England aviators."-- _Same paper, same date, same page_.

* * * * *

"QUARTER MILE CHAMPIONSHIP.--Record, Sgt. Smith (North Staffords), 5 2-5secs.

Wilkinson........ 1 Goddard.......... 2 Worsley.......... 3

An excellent win, Wilkinson putting in a wonderful spurt in the last 30 years."--_Indian Paper_.

From which we infer that he did not succeed in lowering Sergeant Smith's remarkable record.

* * * * *

THE MAN WHO COULD DO IT HIMSELF.

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARE THE TRADUCER.

The members of the League of Scottish Veterans of the World War met recently in New York, and after "due deliberation" (_Query_, Can Scotchmen deliberate "duly" in New York now?) passed a resolution demanding that SHAKSPEARE'S tragedy, _Macbeth_, be removed from the curriculum of English literature studies in American schools.

Apparently this was an example of "dry" Scotch humour. A neighbouring city had previously banned _The Merchant of Venice_ from its schools on the ground that the character of _Shylock_ was a libel on the Jewish race. If Jewish children no longer had to pay for school editions of _The Merchant of Venice_ should Scottish infants still have to squander their bawbees on a play that insulted their forbears? Perish the thought! "We consider," they declared, "that if a Jewish gabardine is to be cleaned by American Boards of Education the stain should likewise be removed from the Scottish kilt." And if there are no reliable cleaners in the U.S.A. it should be sent to Perth.

The example thus nobly set is being widely followed. The members of the Southern Jazz-band Union met yesterday way down in Tennessee, and passed a resolution demanding the elimination of _Othello_ from the educational curriculum. The proposer declared with some heat that "no coloured gentleman would spifflicate his missus wid a bolster on de word of a mean white thief like dat _Iago_." The mere suggestion was dam foolishness and an insult to the most prominent section of the freeborn citizens of the U.S.A. "If dey gwine whitewash de Scotchman, why not de man ob colour too?"

At a representative meeting of Welshmen Mr. Jones ap Jones moved that, as a protest against SHAKSPEARE'S treatment of _Fluellen_ and the Cymric vegetable symbol, _Henry V._ "be no longer taught in Welsh schools or read at Jesus College, Oxford, whateffer."

At a recent meeting of the S.P.R. it was proposed by Sir A. CONAN DOYLE, of Oliver Lodge, Ether, Surrey, "that the Board of Education be asked, in the interests of scientific truth, to suspend the teaching of _Hamlet_ until the scenes in which the _Ghost_ appears shall have been emended in the light of modern research by a committee of psychical experts appointed for the purpose. The proposer quoted the line spoken by _Hamlet_ to the apparition:--

"Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,"

and said he would like to substitute for it, "Be thou a subjective hallucination arising from an uprush of inhibited emotional disturbance from the subliminal consciousness, or the objectivisation of a telepathic communication from the extra-corporeal sphere of being, or, finally, a manifestation to sensory perception of some supra-normal undulatory movement of the ether."

He had always deprecated, he said, the meddling of untrained amateurs with the details of psychic phenomena, and felt that the rule should be made retrospective. An amendment was carried to add _Julius Cæsar_ and _Richard III._ to the motion for similar reasons.

The Labour Party have decided to ask Mr. FISHER to ban _Coriolanus_ on the ground that many of the speeches of the chief character betray an anti-democratic bias, out of keeping with the ideals that should be set before the rising generation. Phrases like "The mutable rank-scented many," applied to the proletariat, could only foster the bourgeois prejudices of jaundiced reactionaries and teach the young scions of the capitalist classes to look down upon the manual worker.

* * * * *

"For Sale Black Ebony Gentleman's Shaving Outfit."--_Local Paper._

We gather that our coloured brother is about to grow a beard.

* * * * *

* * * * *

MODERN MOON-RAKERS.

PORTA, the once notorious Michigander, Who launched the now exploded solar slander, Whereat ten thousand negroes stood aghast, In one short month into oblivion passed, But PICKERING'S momentous lunar screed Proves the persistence of this wondrous breed. Yet this in PICKERING'S favour let us state: He has no scare or scandal to relate-- Nothing in any way that may impugn The credit or the morals of the moon; And on the other hand it does attract us To learn that she is growing sage and cactus. Hardly romantic vegetables, these, And not so edible as good green cheese Which nursery rhymers (banned by MONTESSORI) Associated with the lunar story. Still PICKERING'S vegetable views are tame Contrasted with Professor GODDARD'S aim; For he, as from the daily Press we learn, An obvious plagiarist of good JULES VERNE, Would have us build a Bertha fat enough To send a charge of high explosive stuff Across the intervening seas of space Bang into Luna's unoffending face. Meanwhile our own alert star-gazing chief, DYSON (Sir FRANK), is rather moved to grief Than anger by the astronomic pranks Played by unbalanced professorial cranks, Who study science in the wild-cat vein And "ruin along the illimitable inane."

* * * * *

THE NEW NAVAL UNIFORM.

"FOR SALE, NAVAL CADET'S (R.N.) MESS-DRESS; 39 inches side seam; pair cricket boots, purple velour hat, grey chiffon velvet dress."--_Daily Paper._

* * * * *

"SUEDE TURNIP, best varieties."--_Advt. in Tasmanian Paper._

No kid about this offer.

* * * * *

"Wanted, at once, respectable Man for Polishing Porter."--_Daily Paper._

The manners of some of our porters notoriously leave much to be desired.

* * * * *

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.)

_From Friend to Friend_ (MURRAY) is the name given, from the first of them, to a collection of eight fugitive papers, prepared for republication by the late Lady RITCHIE during the last months of her life, and now edited by her sister-in-law, Miss EMILY RITCHIE. Fugitive though they may have been in original intent, these pages are so filled with their writer's delicate and very personal charm that her lovers will be delighted to have their flight thus pleasantly arrested. Lady RITCHIE was above all else the perfect appreciator. _Horas non numerat nisi serenas_; the gaze that she turns smilingly upon old happy far-off days looks through spectacles rose-tinted both by the magic of retrospect and her own genius for admiration. London, Freshwater, Paris, Rome--these are the settings of her memories; and we see them all by a light that (perhaps) never was on land or sea, in whose radiance beauty and wit and genius move wonderfully to a perpetual music. In truth, however, these eminent Victorians of Lady RITCHIE'S circle must have been a rare company; I have no space for even a catalogue of them--Mrs. CAMERON, with her vague magnificence, pouring letters and an embarrassment of gifts upon her dear TENNYSONS; the KEMBLE sisters, LOCKHART, THACKERAY himself, a score of great and (to the kindly chronicler) gracious personalities live again in her pages. I should add that the volume is rounded off by a short story, a late addition to the _Miss Williamson_ series, which might be called a pot-boiler, were it not somehow incongruous to associate so gentle a flame with any such activities. Slight as it is, _From Friend to Friend_ forms an apt and graceful finish to the work of one whose life was given to the claims of friendship.

* * * * *

_Fanny goes to War_ (MURRAY) should be read by those who also went and those who didn't. It is a chronicle of the adventures of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry in Belgium and France--vivid; inviting wonder, laughter and sometimes tears; fresh and delicious. The account of the first visit to the trenches awakens memories. Viewed from this distance it seems all to have been so picturesque, such fun! The humour of Thomas, the intelligence and tact of the good French _poilu_, the awful moments and the wild jests in between--these are all shown. The splendid humour with which "PAT BEAUCHAMP," the author, bravely endured her own casualty with its distressing effects is typical in itself of that spirit in the Anglo-Saxon race which made the Teuton race wish it hadn't. In my view, the _obiter dictum_ of an anonymous Colonel sums up the values of this ladies' contingent better than does the preface of the distinguished Major-General: "Neither fish, flesh nor fowl," said the Colonel on having the constitution of this anomalous unit explained to him, "but thundering good red herring!" Time was, I believe and hope, when I myself, passing through the Base Port on leave and being full of life and daring, have sighted a lady-chauffeur of a motor-ambulance and have thrown a friendly glance, even a froward smile, at her. Waiving all questions of propriety, I hope that this was so, and that the lady-chauffeur was no less than "PAT BEAUCHAMP" herself, in the later stages of her career overseas. Though her only response may have been to splash mud over me, I should feel happy, now, thus to have paid my respects to this gallant and high-spirited lady. I count myself among the company, battalion, division, corps and army of her admirers.

* * * * *

It certainly does not seem eight years, yet it must be fully that, since JOSEPH CONRAD in _The English Review_ lifted a veil that lay between his admirers and an interesting personality with the pleasantly discursive papers which form the basis of the re-issued _A Personal Record_ (DENT). Between then and now _Chance_, that masterly but difficult book, has by a curious freak of public taste given Mr. CONRAD, hitherto the well-loved favourite of the relatively few, a much wider constituency. To these late comers, rather than to the older (and of course superior) Conradists, who know it already, let me recommend this rambling, which is by no means to say aimless, account of the wanderings of the MS. of _Almayer's Folly_, some queer entertaining scraps of the author's family history, a description of the encounters with the original _Almayer_, and those vignettes of Marseilles which obviously were used as the background of _The Arrow of Gold_. This record is one of those quiet friendly books that flatter the devotee by a sense of peculiar intimacy with his hero. It is also engagingly characteristic. Mr. CONRAD here unravels the fine threads of his personal history and philosophy with the same artful reserve and exquisite elaboration with which he evolves the creatures of his resourceful imagination.

* * * * *

_The Life of Liza Lehmann_ (UNWIN), written by herself, and finished, as her husband tells in a pathetic foot-note, "scarcely two weeks before her death," is a book holding many special bonds of association with _Punch_, not least the fact that her father-in-law, Deputy J.T. BEDFORD, was the author of that _Robert, the City Waiter_, who was among the most famous and popular of Mr. Punch's early creations. The volume that the writer has put together is the record of a busy, successful and, on the whole, happy life, passed in the company of interesting people, about many of whom Madame LEHMANN has remembered some entertaining story. Chiefly, as is natural, the persons recorded are the musical folk of the last half-century, from JENNY LIND to Sir THOMAS BEECHAM; though in the allied Arts I was taken by a pleasing and new anecdote of ROBERT BROWNING reciting _How they Brought the Good News_ into an Edison phonograph, and overcome by loss of memory halfway through the ordeal. One wonders if this rather surprising record exists to-day. I am not going to assert that the non-technical reader may not find the pages devoted to reprinted criticism rather over-numerous; old newspaper files, like old theatrical photographs, too quickly fade. But the author's humour endured; and I like to think that she could appreciate a joke made at her own expense; witness her quotation from the gushing friend who, at the moment of the first triumph of _The Persian Garden_, overwhelmed the composer with the tribute, "_Do_ let me thank you! The local colour is _too_ wonderful. I simply felt _as if I was at Liberty's_!"

* * * * *

To the jaded reader I recommend _The Road to En-Dor_ (LANE) as a book which should undoubtedly stir him up. It is the most extraordinary war-tale which has come my way. With such material as he had to his hand Lieutenant E.H. JONES would have been a sad muddler if he had not made his story intriguing; but, anyhow, he happens to be a sound craftsman with a considerable sense of style and construction. And he has a convincing way of handling his facts that compels belief in the most incredible of stories. Lieutenant JONES was a prisoner in the hands of the Turks at Zozgad, and to amuse himself and his fellow-prisoners he raised a "spook" which in time gained such a reputation that it had the Turkish officials almost hopelessly at its mercy. From being merely a joke his spook soon began to suggest, to him a way of escaping from the camp, and then, in conjunction with Lieutenant C.W. HILL, he worked it for all it was worth. His record of their adventures and of the sufferings, physical and mental, which they had to face is really astounding; but I fear it will be received coldly by the psychist. Spiritualism, indeed, is treated with scant respect, and whatever our own view of this vexed subject may be most of us will admit that Lieutenant JONES has considerable reason for his strong opinion.

* * * * *

In _The Green Shoes of April_ (HURST AND BLACKETT) Miss RACHEL SWETE MACNAMARA has got together quite a lot of people and situations that other novelists have used before. There is the fine young Irishman soldiering in India, the soulless actress who marries and leaves him, and the splendid Irish girl, his true mate, whom he weds in happy ignorance of his first partner's continued existence. But the hero has a maiden aunt, with a story of her own, and the heroine a terrific grandmother who are Miss MACNAMARA'S creations, and as she makes wife number one lie like a trooper in order to preserve the happiness of wife number two a _soupçon_ of freshness is imparted to the _réchauffé_. Of course the well-meaning first wife is not allowed to succeed in her efforts, and _Beau_ and _Perry_ (you would never guess from that which was which, but in this case it doesn't matter) have a very bad time indeed until, reassured by a friendly barrister, they settle down again into wedded happiness. These are the confiding souls whom novelists and lawyers love, and I can see Miss MACNAMARA, by-and-by, getting quite a nice story out of someone's attempt to oust their eldest son from his inheritance. I hope she will.

* * * * *