Chapter 2

MY DEAR CHARLES,--Let us talk _Haute Finance_. In other words, let us indulge in that good old Anglo-Saxon pastime of blackguarding COX AND CO. It will remind us of the piping days of war. There is too much peace about, and the gentle and ever-forgiving COX AND CO. expect their customers to be men of force and character, showing temper from time to time. Everybody else may be demobilised; I remain a soldier, and as such I have my special bank. Ah, me! the battles in Charing Cross are not the easy things they used to be. No longer, as of old, I come fresh to the attack against a mere underling, worn down by the assaults of wave after wave of brother-officers attacking, before me. I enter the Territorial Department alone and am taken on by a master-hand, supported and flanked by a number of unoccupied subordinates. About the Spring of 1925, when I expect to be the only "T" left, I anticipate the decisive moment when I shall cross swords or swop bombs with Sir COX himself. Having bravely encountered "AND CO." these many years, I shall not be daunted by that gilded knight.

The war having once put me in possession of my COX AND CO., I had very frequent recourse to them when in need of such solace as only money can bring. The time arrived when I applied in vain; the money had disappeared. Though I had no reason to suspect COX AND CO. of being dishonest I noticed a tone of assuredness and self-complacency in their letters strangely similar to that in my own, and I _knew_ that I was being dishonest, so I demanded to see my pass-book. It was a horrid sight, and it gave me seriously to think. How came it that the side of the book which showed my takings was so clear and easily to be understood, but the side which showed their takings wrapt in mystery and hieroglyphics such as not even the world's leading financiers and mathematicians could hope to unravel? My subaltern, being consulted, agreed with me; I would have had him carpeted by the C.O. at once if he hadn't.

I stepped round to COX AND CO. and had it out with them verbally. After a discussion lasting half-an-hour, it was shown that I had been credited with a week's pay to which I wasn't entitled and that a month's income-tax, to which a grasping Government _was_ entitled, had not been deducted. I left the building ninety-three shillings worse off than I entered it.

I gave COX AND CO. six months to go wrong in, and then called for that pass-book again. My eye fell upon a paying and deducting and refunding and readjusting of an item itself so shameful that it dared only appear under its initials. Why this oscillation? I asked myself. So we engaged upon another correspondence, and another interview took place, at which I was supported by my subaltern (who could multiply and add), and the bank-man was supported by a young lady (who could divide and subtract). At the end of a passionate discussion, which lasted fifty-seven minutes (forty-five of them being after closing time) the conclusion was arrived at that the total was correct to a halfpenny. Even COX AND CO. themselves were a bit surprised at that.

Years passed, and there was no doubt about it; the money continued to disappear. Trusting that COX AND CO. were now lulled into a feeling of false security I tried a surprise reconnaissance. I dropped in on them without warning and asked to see that pass-book then and there. They searched high and low, but they couldn't find it. I, on the other hand, found it quite easily, when I searched amongst my papers at home. To me this proved that I was the better searcher. My subaltern, however, would have it that the circumstances gave me no right of action against COX AND CO. His sympathies were clearly with them, so I requested him kindly to get on with his own work and not to interfere further in my private affairs. He went away in a huff, got demobilised and, I have little doubt, married the young lady who divided and subtracted and, with her, set up a bank of his own. I devoted my young life to the search for some person, firm or corporation, expert in pass-books, haughty of demeanour, capable of getting blood out of a stone and not likely to give even the devil his due; I wanted such an ally for the next assault.

I have always remained a civilian, and as such have retained my other banker. A man of unlimited possessions, I may state accurately that I have to-day no fewer than two banks of my own. Let us call this other one Box and Co. That is not the real name, but it is as far as I dare go to refer to them, even under an assumed name. Years of stern handling by them have taken all the spirit out of me. It is as much as I can do to screw up my courage so far as to ask the loan of a pound or two of my own money off them. And there have been times, in the pre-1914 past, when I have felt it would be better to go without money than to have the stuff thrown at me, shovelled at me in that contemptuous offhand manner. I now repaired in person to the premises of Box and Co., with their handsome marble façade and their costly mahogany fittings, and had a word with Mr. Box himself. A little artful flattery, a few simple lies and just a touch of ginger in the matter of professional competition, and Box and Co. were brought into the war. I handed them COX AND CO.'s pass-book and told them that now was their time to go in and win.

I used to look in every other day to see how the struggle went. At first Box and Co. were confident, remarking on my wisdom in placing myself (and my pass-book) in such competent hands as theirs. But as the correspondence went on their enthusiasm wore off; Mr. Box gave vent to observations reflecting ill on the Army system of pay, on the Army itself, even on that part of it which was me. Had it not been that the pride of Box and Co. was involved, I believe they would have gone to London in a body, there to form a lifelong friendship with COX AND CO., out of pure fellow-feeling. But I have hinted that Box and Co. were a cold inhuman institution, whose business in life it was to do people down, or go down itself. And so COX AND CO. had to be for it. Eventually, in the late winter of 1919, Box and Co. extracted from COX AND CO. the admission that a five had been mistaken for a three, and I had been done out of twopence, an affair all the more gross in that it had happened as long ago as the early spring of 1915, and never a word of remorse meanwhile! A conclusion by which neither Box nor COX was really satisfied, but which, for me, was enough. We English may only win one battle in a war, but that battle is the last.

Possibly, my dear Charles, you have a soft spot in your heart for this COX AND CO., never failing in courtesy and attention and ever heaped with abuse? So, to be frank, have I. Let us turn round and blackguard the other fellow. The sequel is incredible.

I next handed my Box and Co. pass-book to COX AND CO., giving them a brief and touching _résumé_ of my sad story of wrong and oppression, and bidding them do their damnedest in their turn. They wrote to Box and Co.: "Our customer, your customer, we may say THE customer, Second-Lieutenant, Brevet-Lieutenant, Temporary Captain, Acting Major, Local Colonel, Aspiring General (entered in your books as plain Mister) Henry Neplusultra, informs us that, though he has banked with you since the first sovereign he earned at his baptism, he has been so frowned at and scorned as to have been rendered morally unable to handle his current balance. He instructs us...."

But why relate the story in all its grim horror? Enough to say that so successfully did COX AND CO. pursue their instructions that they discovered a credit balance in my favour of 14s. 3d.; so politely and firmly did they conduct the correspondence that eventually Box and Co. burst into tears, admitted the claim and, upon my calling the other day personally to receive satisfaction, handed me the 14s. 3d. with a deferential bow. If you doubt the truth of this statement you have only to come round to my place, where you can see for yourself the threepence, which is still in my possession.

Yours ever,

HENRY.

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DAY BY DAY IN THE WORLD OF CRIME.

(_By a well-known Professor of Larceny._)

In these days when robbery with violence is an everyday occurence, few people will trust themselves alone in railway carriages. Imagine, therefore, my surprise, not unmingled with pleasure, on seeing a somewhat pompous-looking individual, with the circumference and watch-chain of the successful merchant, sitting alone in a first-class carriage on the suburban up-line from Wallingford. I always travel from Wallingford, as it is the one station on the line at which you are not required to show a ticket on entry. Accordingly I entered the old gentleman's carriage, took his ticket, and offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. I then opened the conversation.

"I wonder you wear your watch-chain so prominently," I remarked, "especially during the present vogue of crime--so tempting, you know."

"Ah!" he said, "so you may think; but, being a bit of a criminologist, I have arranged that as a little trap. It is my belief that the pickpocket, foiled in one particular, never attempts to rob his victim in any other way. Now this chain cost me precisely ninepence. It is weighted at each end with a piece of lead, which gives an appearance of genuineness to the watch-pocket. I am heavily armed, in case he should attempt violence."

It was here that I removed his pocket-book and slipped it into my great-coat. Not daring to examine it openly, I fingered it cautiously, and felt the stiff softness of bank-notes. I was so carried away with pleasure that I was quite surprised to hear his voice returning from a distance.

"As for my ticket," he continued, "that is a single from Wallingford to the next station, Sadlington; it is two years old. My season I keep inside the lining of my hat."

It was here that I returned the ticket to his pocket. After all, I reflected, I could pay at the other end with a very small portion of the contents of the pocket-book, which I reckoned must contain at least half-a-dozen fivers.

"By the way," he added, "I have a passion for biscuits; will you join me in one?" and he proffered a small tin. "I eat so many of them," he said, "that I can write all my memoranda on the slips of paper from the tins, and these I keep in my pocket-book. My money I keep next my season."

It was here that I returned the pocket-book.

* * * * *

"THE OPTIMISTIC WAITERS.

'SOON WE SHALL GO BARK TO OUR WORK TRIUMPHANTLY.'"--_Evening Paper._

We hope that in the case of certain restaurants the bark will not be so bad as the bite.

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THE DEAD TREE.

(_Being a terrible result of reading too much poetry in the modern manner._)

Slushy is the highway between the unspeakable hedges; I pause Irresolute under a telegraph-pole, The fourteenth telegraph-pole on the way From Shere to Havering, The twenty-first From Havering to Shere.

Crimson is the western sky; upright it stands, The solitary pole, Sombre and terrible, Splitting the dying sun Into two semi-circular halves. I do not think I have seen, not even in Vorticist pictures, Anything so solitary, So absolutely nude; Yet this was an item once in the uninteresting forest, With branches sticking out of it, and crude green leaves And resinous sap, And underneath it a litter of pine spindles And ants; Birds fretted in the boughs and bees were busy in it, Squirrels ran noisily up it; Now it is naked and dead, Delightfully naked And beautifully dead.

Delightfully and beautifully, for across it melodiously, Stirred by the evening wind, The wires where electric messages are continually being despatched Between various post-offices, Messages of business and messages of love, Rates of advertisements and all the winners, Are vibrating and thrumming Like a thousand lutes.

Is the old grey heart of the telegraph pole stirred by these messages? I fancy not. Yet it all seems very strange; And even stranger still, now that I notice it, Is the fact that the thing is after all not absolutely naked, For a short way up it, half obliterated with age, Discoloured and torn, Fastened on by tintacks, There is a paper _affiche_ Relating to swine fever.

The sun sinks lower and I pass on, On to the fifteenth pole from Shere to Havering, And the twentieth From Havering to Shere; It is even more naked and desolate than the last. I pause (as before)....

[_Author._ We can start all over again now if you like. _Editor._ I don't like.]

EVOE.

* * * * *

"HOPS.

CANTERBURY, Saturday.--Trade was quiet, with prices steady, as follows: --Kent mixed fleeces, 36d; lambs' wool, 22d to 24d; downs, 41d to 42d; and half-bred fleeces, 38d to 39d per lb."--_Financial Paper._

This may help to explain the taste of "Government ale."

* * * * *

"By systematic and scientific training is it possible to produce that perfect type of manhood gifted with the best powers of what we are wont to call the 'lower orders of creation'--keen sighted and swift of motion as a bird, sharp-scented as a greyhound, faithful and acute as a dog, and full of sentient wisdom as an elephant."--_Daily Paper._

We are doubtful about the rest, but the greyhound part should be quite easy.

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, February 16th._--The great AUCKLAND still reposes a touching faith in the Profiteering Act. In his opinion it "has had a stabilising effect on the price of clothing;" by which he means, I suppose, that West-End tailors long ago nailed their high prices to the mast-head.

In commending the Bill for the continuance of D.O.R.A., a _remanet_ from last Session, the ATTORNEY-GENERAL was almost apologetic. He laid much stress upon the "modest and attenuated form" which the measure now presented, and the short time it was to remain in force. Serious objection was taken by the Irish Members to the provision that in districts where a proclamation is in force the D.O.R.A. regulations, instead of coming to an end on August 31st, will continue for a year after the end of the War. This they naturally interpreted as a means of continuing the military government of Ireland, a country in which, according to Mr. DEVLIN, the Government had as much right as the Germans in Belgium. The House, however, seemed to agree with the Irish Attorney-General that in the present state of Ireland it would not be wise to dispense with the regulations, and gave the Bill a second reading by 219 votes to 61.

Then the House turned to the discussion of the levy on capital. The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER was still inexorably opposed to a general levy, but would like a toll on war-wealth alone, and proposed to set up a Committee to consider whether it was practicable. Mr. ADAMSON frankly declared that the Labour Party was in favour of a capital levy, but wanted to get at the war-profits first. Mr. CHAMBERLAIN objected to widening the scope of the inquiry on the ground that it would take too long, and also that uncertainty would promote extravagance and discourage saving. And, despite Lieut.-Commander KENWORTHY'S naïve suggestion that we should restore credit by making a bonfire of paper-money--he did not say whose--the House agreed with the CHANCELLOR.

_Tuesday, February 17th._--The Acting Colonial Secretary bubbled over with delight as he described the success of the operations against the Somaliland dervishes. The principal credit was due to the Royal Air Force, but the native levies had also done their part effectively. The only fly in Colonel AMERY'S ointment was the escape of that evasive gentleman, the MULLAH, to whom he was careful on this occasion not to apply the epithet "Mad." As, however, the MULLAH has lost all his forces, all his stock and all his belongings, it is hoped that it will be at any rate some time before he pops up again.

The Coal Mines Bill was wisely entrusted to Mr. BRIDGEMAN. Lord SPENCER once delighted the House of Commons by announcing that he was "not an agricultural labourer"; and Mr. BRIDGEMAN similarly put it in a good temper by admitting that he had never himself worked in a mine. But he showed quite a sufficient acquaintance with his subject, and succeeded in dispelling some of the fog that enshrouds the figures of coal-finance. The miners, of course, objected to the Bill on the ground that it was not nationalisation, but were left in a very small minority.

A Private Members' debate on the Housing Problem occupied the evening. There was much friendly criticism of the MINISTER OF HEALTH, for whom Major LLOYD GREAME suggested a motto from the _Koran_:--

"This life is but a bridge; Let no man build his house upon it."

But the lapse of time is gradually bringing performance nearer to promise, and Dr. ADDISON was able to announce that over one hundred thousand houses were now "in the tender stage." Let us hope no bitter blast will nip them in the bud.

_Wednesday, February 18th._--The Lords returned to work after their week's holiday in a rather gloomy mood. By some occult process of reasoning Lord PARMOOR has convinced himself that the distress in Central Europe is largely the fault of the Peace Conference. He was supported by Lord BRYCE, who declared that the "Big Four" approached the business of Treaty-making in a German rather than an English spirit (which sounds as if he thought they never meant to keep it), and by Lord HALDANE, who, _more suo_, accused the negotiators of having shown "no adequate prevision." Lord CRAWFORD dealt pretty faithfully with the cavillers and pointed out that this country had already spent twelve millions on relieving European distress, and was prepared to spend nearly as much again when the United States was ready to co-operate; but at present, he reminded them, that country was still in a state of war with Germany.

The one bright spot of the sitting was Lord HYLTON'S statement that the National Debt, which was within a fraction of eight thousand millions on December 31st, had since been reduced by eighty-five millions. The pace is too good to last, but it is something to have made a start.

For nearly four years we have been anxiously waiting to know what really did happen at the battle of Jutland. The voluminous efforts of Admirals and journalists have failed to clear up the mystery, and even Commander CARLYON BELLAIRS has not satisfied everybody so completely as himself that his recent work reveals the truth. But now the official history is on the eve of publication and Mr. LONG no longer feels it necessary to keep the secret. Here it is in his own words: "The _moral_ of the German fleet was very seriously shaken." What a relief!

It seems that the Turks were informed in advance of the intention of the Peace Conference to let them stay at Constantinople in the hope that they would forthwith abandon their sanguinary habits. Instead of which they appear to have said to themselves, "What a jolly day! Let us go out and kill something--Armenians for choice." So now a further message has been sent to them to the effect that the new title to the old tenement is not absolute but conditional, and that one of the covenants forbids its use as a slaughterhouse.

A modest little Bill empowering the Mint to manufacture coins worth something less than their weight in silver aroused the wrath of Professor OMAN. The last time, according to his account, that the coinage was thus debased was in the days of HENRY VIII., whose views both on money and matrimony were notoriously lax. Other Members were friendly to the project, and Mr. DENNIS HERBERT, in the avowed interest of churchwardens, urged the Government to seize the opportunity to abolish the threepeeny-bit, the irreducible minimum of "respectable" almsgiving. The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, however, stoutly championed the elusive little coin, for which he declared there was "an immense demand."

On Captain HAMBRO'S motion deploring the action of certain trade-unions in refusing to admit ex-Service men to their ranks the Labour Party heard some very straight talking. The whips of Lady BONHAM-CARTER at Paisley were nothing to the scorpions of ex-Private HOPKINSON, who has actually been fined at the instance of the trade-unions because he insisted upon employing some of his old comrades-in-arms.

Mr. SEXTON'S rather maladroit attempt to shift the blame on to the employers only deepened the impression that trade-unionism is developing into a system of caste, in which certain occupations are reserved for certain people. Only an elect bricklayer, for example, may lay bricks-- though anybody can heave them--and the mere fact that a man has shouldered a rifle in the service of his country in no way entitles him to carry a hod.

_Thursday, February 19th._--The impending advent of a Home Rule Bill is greatly perturbing the little remnant of Irish Nationalist Members, threatened with the extinction of their pet grievance. Although but seven in number they made almost noise enough for seventy. Question-time was punctuated with their plaints. The CHIEF SECRETARY did his best to soothe them, but his remark that "no man in Ireland need be in prison if he will obey the law" poured oil on the flames.

Despite the reduction of the Question-ration from eight to four per Member, the House collectively grows "curiouser and curiouser." This is partly due to the popularity of PREMIER-baiting, now to be enjoyed on Mondays and Thursdays. In future, Members are to be further restricted to three Questions _per diem_; but no substantial relief is to be hoped for until the House sets up its own censorship, with power to expunge all Questions that are trivial, personal or put for purposes of self-advertisement. Not many--a dozen or two daily, perhaps--would survive the scrutiny.

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A NEW ISLE OF THE BLEST.

(_The "Cubanisation" of Ireland, suggested by Mr. DE VALERA, is being seriously discussed in Sinn Fein circles._)

When Ireland is treated like Cuba, As great DE VALERA suggests, And the pestilent loyalist Pooh-Bah No longer our island infests, The Pearl that adorns the Antilles We'll speedily duplicate here, From the Lough in the North, that is Swilly's, Right down to Cape Clear.

The militant minstrels of Tara Will change their war-harps for guitars; And Clare, to be called Santa Clara, Will grow the most splendid cigars; On the banks of the Bann the banana Will yield us its succulent fruit, And the pig with the gentle iguana Together will root.

Our poets, both major and minor, Will work the new Manganese vein, And turn out a product diviner Than even the Cubans obtain; Limerigo, Galvejo, Doblino-- How lovely and noble they sound! And think of Don José Devlino Cavorting around!