Chapter 1

PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 146.

January 14, 1914.

CHARIVARIA.

We hear that the CHANCELLOR has, while in North Africa, been making a close study of camels, with a view to ascertaining the nature of the last straw which breaks their backs.

***

It is denied that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, in order to give a practical demonstration of his belief in the disarmament idea, has given instructions that all precautions against attacks on him by Suffragettes are to be discontinued.

***

The Balkan situation is considered to have undergone a change for the worse owing to the purchase by Turkey of the Dreadnought _Rio de Janeiro_. For ourselves we cannot subscribe to this view. Is it likely that the Turks, after paying over £2,000,000 for her, will risk losing this valuable vessel in war?

***

On the day of the marriage of the Teuton Coal-King's daughter to Lord REDESDALE's son last week there was snow on the ground. The Coal-King must have shown up very well against it.

***

Sir REGINALD BRADE is to be the new permanent secretary at the War Office. Let's hope he has no connection with the firm of Gold Brade and Red Tape.

***

It has been discovered that members of a certain Eskimo tribe have an extra joint in their waists. The news has caused the greatest excitement among cannibal tribes all over the world, and it is expected that there will be a huge demand for these people. Where there are big families to feed the extra joint will be invaluable.

***

"OUR RESOLUTION IS TO GO FORWARD IN THE NEW YEAR." advertises the London General Omnibus Co. A capital idea, this. Vehicles which simply go backwards are never so satisfactory.

***

After one-hundred-and-fifty-years' careful consideration the War Office has given permission to the Black Watch and the King's Royal Rifle Corps to bear on their regimental colours the honorary distinction "North America, 1763-64," in recognition of services rendered during the war against the Red Indians.

***

Not sixty people visited "La Gioconda" on one of the days after her return to Paris, when a charge of four shillings was made for admission, and, towards the end of the day, the smile is said to have worn a rather forced look.

***

"Who are the best selling modern authors?" asks a contemporary. We do not like to mention names, but, as readers, we have been sold by several popular writers lately.

***

We are not surprised that many persons are becoming rather disgusted with our little amateurish attempts at Winter. Thousands now go to Switzerland, and Sir ERNEST SHACKLETON is going even further afield. Meanwhile the Government does nothing to stem this emigration.

***

The boxing craze among the French continues. M. VEDRINES, the intrepid aviator, has taken it up and been practising on M. Roux's ears.

***

The German CROWN PRINCE has become a member of the Danzig Cabinet Makers' Union. Later on he hopes to become a Chancellor-maker.

***

Another impending apology? Headlines from _The Daily Chronicle_:--

"PNEUMONIA ON THE RAND. DISCOVERY OF ITS CAUSE. SIR ALMROTH WRIGHT'S VACCINE TREATMENT."

***

Could frugality go further? At the golden wedding celebrations of a Southend couple, a packet of wedding cake was eaten which had been put away on their marriage day in 1863.

***

A soap combine, with a nominal capital of £35,000,000, is said to have been formed to exploit China; and the Mongols may yet cease to be a yellow race.

***

The latest tall story from America is to the effect that some burglars who broke into the Presbyterian church at Syracuse, New York, stole a parcel of sermons.

* * * * *

* * * * *

YOUNG MOTHER'S SWAN-SONG.

["It was better for a young mother to start her new chapter unhampered: the less she knew the better it was for her."--_Mrs. Annie Swan_.]

How do you take a baby up? What does it like to eat? Do you put rusks in a feeding cup? Have you to mince its meat? Haven't I heard them speak of pap? Isn't there caudle too? How do you keep the thing on your lap? Why are its eyes askew? Is it a touch of original sin Causes an infant to squall, Or trust misplaced in a safety-pin Lost in the depths of a shawl? When do you "shorten" a growing child (_Is_ it so much too long)? Should legs be lopped or the scalp be filed? Both in a sense seem wrong. "Kitchy," I think I have heard them say; What shall I make it kitch? "Bo" I believe in a mystic way Frightens or soothes, but which? Didn't I see one once reversed, Patted about the spine? Is it the way they should all be nursed? Will it agree with mine? Surely its gums are strangely bare? Why does it dribble so? Will reason dawn in that glassy stare If I dandle it briskly? OH!!! Grandmothers! Mothers! or Instinct, you! Haste with your secret lore! What, oh what shall I, what shall I do? Baby has crashed to the floor!

* * * * *

"They adjourned to the Village Hell, where each child was presented with a parcel of suitable clothing."--_Tonbridge Free Press_.

Asbestos, no doubt.

* * * * *

A PRANCING PRUSSIAN.

(_Showing how Colonel VON REUTER, late of Zabern, appealed to his regiment to defend the honour of the Army. The following speech is based upon evidence given at the Strassburg trial._)

My Prussian braves, on whom devolves the mission To vindicate our gallant Army's worth, Upholding in its present proud position The noblest fighting instrument on earth-- If, in your progress, any vile civilian Declines the homage of the lifted hat, Your business is to paint his chest vermilion-- Kindly attend to that.

Never leave barracks, when you go a-shopping, Without an escort loaded up with lead; Always maintain a desultory popping At anyone who wags a wanton head; If, as he passes, some low boy should whistle With nose in air and shameless chin out-thrust, Making your scandalised moustaches bristle-- Reduce the dog to dust.

I hear a sinister and shocking rumour Touching the native tendency to chaff. If you should meet with specimens of humour See that our soldiers get the final laugh; Fling the facetious corpses in the fountains So as the red blood overflows the brink; Keep on until the blue Alsatian mountains Turn a reflective pink.

Should any female whom your shadow touches Grudge you the glad, but deferential, eye; Should any cripple fail to hold his crutches At the salute as you go marching by; Draw, in the KAISER's name--'tis rank high treason; Stun them with sabre-strokes upon the poll; Then dump them (giving no pedantic reason) Down cellars with the coal.

Be on your guard against all people strolling In ones or twos about the public square Hard by your quarters; set your men patrolling; Ask every knave what he is doing there; And, if in your good wisdom you determine To view their conduct in a dangerous light, Bring the machine-guns out and blow the vermin Into the _Ewigkeit_.

Enough! I leave our honour in your keeping. What are your bright swords for except to slay? Preserve their lustre; let me see them leaping Out of their scabbards twenty times a day; Unless we smash these craven churls like crockery To prove our right of place within the sun, Our martial prestige has become a mockery And Deutschland's day is done!

O.S.

* * * * *

"The dancing, in the conventional bullet style, of Miss Sybil Roe, was quite good."--_Wiltshire Times_.

We confess that the bullet style is too fast for us.

* * * * *

"In all the best dress ateliers classic evening gowns are now being exhibited, and in many of these the lines of the corsage closely resemble the draperies to be seen on the Venus de Milo."--_Daily Mail_.

We must go and look at the Venus de Milo's corsage again.

* * * * *

THE NEW JOURNAL-INSURANCE.

[Several newspapers have been roused to a sense of their duties to their readers by the insurance competition between _The Chronicle_ and _The Mail_. We make a few preliminary announcements of other insurance schemes which are not yet contemplated.]

_VOTES FOR WOMEN_.--A copy of the current issue nailed to your front door insures you absolutely against arson.

_THE STAR_.--All regular subscribers to _The Star_ are insured with the proprietors of _The Daily News_ for £1,000 in the event of being welshed on any race-course.

_THE NATIONAL REVIEW_.--Annual subscribers to _The National Review_ are guaranteed £10,000 in the event of being (a) robbed on the highway by a member of the present Ministry; (b) defrauded by a member of the present Ministry; (c) having house burgled by member of the present Ministry; (d) having pocket picked by member of present Ministry; always excluding any act or acts done by the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER in a strictly official capacity.

_THE CHURCH TIMES_.--All regular subscribers are insured for £500 against excommunication. £1,000 will be paid to the heirs or assigns of any reader who loses his head in a conflict with a Bishop (Deans, Rural Deans, Canons and Archdeacons being excepted from the benefit of this clause in the policy).

_THE ENGLISH REVIEW_.--Poetic contributors are insured for £500 in the event of a prosecution under the Blasphemy Laws.

_THE DAILY EXPRESS_.--You can sleep soundly in your bed, you can sleep soundly in your train, if the current issue of _The Daily Express_ be on your person. All purchasers are insured for £10,000 against any conflagrations or explosions caused by bombs or combustibles dropped from German airships.

_THE BRITISH WEEKLY_.--All readers of _The British Weekly_ are insured for £1,000 in the event of heart-failure caused by shock while reading the thrilling stories provided by SILAS, JOSEPH, TIMOTHY and JEREMIAH HOCKING.

_THE RECORD_.--£500 will be paid to any annual subscriber forcibly detained in a convent, provided that at the time of such detention a copy of the current issue of _The Record_ be in his possession. £1,000 will be paid to the legal representatives of any reader burnt at the stake.

_THE CRICCIETH CHRONICLE_.--£3 a week for life, together with a poultry farm on a Sutherland deer-forest, to the owner of any shorn lamb which is found dead in a snow-drift with a copy of the current issue wrapt round it, to keep it warm.

* * * * *

The great world rolls on, but of the master-brains which direct its movement the man in the street knows nothing. He has never heard of the Clerk of the Portland Urban District Council; he is entirely ignorant of Army Order 701.

"Dear Sir" (writes the Clerk)--"A meeting of the Underhill Members of the Council will be held to-morrow (Saturday), at 3 o'clock p.m., in Spring Gardens (Fortuneswell) for the purpose of selecting a site for the Telegraph Post."

"With effect from 1st January, 1914" (says the Army Order) "rewigging of gun sponges will be done by the Ordnance Department instead of locally as at present."

* * * * *

"Inman was seen to greater advantage at yesterday afternoon's session in this match of 18,000 up, in Edinburgh, than on any previous day of the match, scoring 1,083 while Aiken was aggregating the mentally afflicted."--_Nottingham Guardian_.

One must amuse oneself somehow while the other man is at the table.

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

WHAT TO TELL AN EDITOR.

In view of _The Daily Mail's_ praiseworthy efforts to instruct applicants for situations in the correct phrasing of letters to prospective employers, we propose to supply a similar long-felt want, and give a little advice as to the kind of letter it is desirable to enclose with contributions to periodicals.

Begin your letter in a friendly vein, hoping the Editor and his people are pretty well. Remember also that Editors like to know something of the characters and histories of their contributors. So let your communication include a _résumé_ of your personal and literary career. Don't fall into the error of making your letter too concise.

The following suggestions may serve to indicate some of the lines of thought that you might follow:--

(1) State where you sent your first manuscript.

(2) What you thought of it, and of the Editor who returned it.

(3) Your height and chest measurement (an Editor likes to be on the safe side).

(4) State who persuaded you to take up literature, and give height and chest measurement of same.

(5) Give a short but optimistic description of your contribution, not to exceed in length the contribution itself.

(6) State whether literary genius is rife in your family or has been rife at any time since 1066.

(7) Give a list of journals to which you have already sent the enclosed contribution, and state your reasons for supposing that the Editors were misguided. Hint that perhaps, after all, their lack of enterprise was fortunate for the present recipient.

(8) Mention your hobbies and the different appointments you have held since the age of twelve, with names and addresses of employers. Also give your reasons for remaining as long as you did in each situation.

(9) State how long you have been a subscriber to the journal you are electing to honour, and whether you think it's worth the money. Point out any little improvements you consider desirable in its compilation, and mention other periodicals as perfect examples. Preface these remarks with some such phrase as this: "Pray don't think I want to teach you your business, but--"

(10) Give full list (names and addresses) of friends who have promised to buy the paper if your contribution appears.

(11) Give a brief outline, in faultless English, of your religious, political and police court convictions, your views on Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, and any ideas you may have about the Law of Copyright.

Finally, enclose a stamped and addressed envelope for the return of your article.

* * * * *

"It has always been supposed that Charles I. when Prince of Wales and travelling incognito with the Duke of Buckingham saw and fell in love with Marie Antoinette."

Not by us. We always supposed he fell in love with SARAH BERNHARDT.

* * * * *

THE SAME OLD STORY.

We stood in a circle round the parrot's cage and gazed with interest at its occupant. She (Evangeline) was balancing easily on one leg, while with the other leg and her beak she tried to peel a monkey-nut. There are some of us who hate to be watched at meals, particularly when dealing with the dessert, but Evangeline is not of our number.

"There," said Mrs. Atherley, "isn't she a beauty?"

I felt that, as the last to be introduced, I ought to say something.

"What do you say to a parrot?" I whispered to Miss Atherley.

"Have a banana," suggested Archie.

"I believe you say, 'Scratch-a-poll,'" said Miss Atherley, "but I don't know why."

"Isn't that rather dangerous? Suppose it retorted 'Scratch your own,' I shouldn't know a bit how to go on."

"It can't talk," said Archie. "It's quite a baby--only seven months old. But it's no good showing it your watch; you must think of some other way of amusing it."

"Break it to me, Archie. Have I been asked down solely to amuse the parrot, or did any of you others want to see me?"

"Only the parrot," said Archie.

Evangeline paid no attention to us. She continued to wrestle with the monkey-nut. I should say that she was a bird not easily amused.

"Can't it really talk at all?" I asked Mrs. Atherley.

"Not yet. You see, she's only just come over from South America, and isn't used to the climate yet."

"Just the person you'd expect to talk a lot about the weather. I believe you've been had. Write a little note to the poulterers and ask if you can change it. You've got a bad one by mistake."

"We got it as a bird," said Mrs. Atherley with dignity, "not as a gramophone."

The next morning Evangeline was as silent as ever. Miss Atherley and I surveyed it after breakfast. It was still grappling with a monkey-nut, but no doubt a different one.

"Isn't it _ever_ going to talk?" I asked. "Really, I thought parrots were continually chatting."

"Yes, but they have to be taught--just like you teach a baby."

"Are you sure? I quite see that you have to teach them any special things you want them to say, but I thought they were all born with a few simple obvious remarks, like 'Poor Polly,' or--or 'Dash LLOYD GEORGE.'"

"I don't think so," said Miss Atherley. "Not the green ones."

At dinner that evening, Mr. Atherley being now with us, the question of Evangeline's education was seriously considered.

"The only proper method," began Mr. Atherley--"By the way," he said, turning to me, "you don't know anything about parrots, do you?"

"No," I said. "You can go on quite safely."

"The only proper method of teaching a parrot--I got this from a man in the City this morning--is to give her a word at a time, and to go on repeating it over and over again until she's got hold of it."

"And after that the parrot goes on repeating it over and over again until you've got sick of it," said Archie.

"Then we shall have to be very careful what word we choose," said Mrs. Atherley.

"What is your favourite word?"

"Well, really--"

"Animal, vegetable or mineral?" asked Archie.

"This is quite impossible. Every word by itself seems so silly."

"Not 'home' and 'mother,'" I said reproachfully.

"You shall recite your little piece in the drawing-room afterwards," said Miss Atherley to me. "Think of something sensible now."

"Yes," said Mrs. Atherley. "What's the latest word from London?"

"Kikuyu."

"What?"

"I can't say it again," I protested.

"If you can't even say it twice, it's no good for Evangeline."

A thoughtful silence fell upon us.

"Have you fixed on a name for her yet?" Miss Atherley asked her mother.

"Evangeline, of course."

"No, I mean a name for her to call _you_. Because if she's going to call you 'Auntie' or 'Darling,' or whatever you decide on, you'd better start by teaching her that."

And then I had a brilliant idea.

"I've got the very word," I said. "It's 'hallo.' You see, it's a pleasant form of greeting to any stranger, and it will go perfectly with the next word that she's taught, whatever it may be."

"Supposing it's 'wardrobe,'" suggested Archie, "or 'sardine'?"

"Why not? 'Hallo, Sardine' is the perfect title for a _revue_. Witty, subtle, neat--probably the great brain of the Revue King has already evolved it, and is planning the opening scene."

"Yes, 'hallo' isn't at all bad," said Mr. Atherley. "Anyway, it's better than 'Poor Polly,' which is simply morbid. Let's fix on 'hallo.'"

"Good," said Mrs. Atherley.

Evangeline said nothing, being asleep under her blanket.

* * * * *

I was down first next morning, having forgotten to wind up my watch overnight. Longing for company I took the blanket off Evangeline's cage and introduced her to the world again. She stirred sleepily, opened her eyes and blinked at me.

"Hallo, Evangeline," I said.

She made no reply.

Suddenly a splendid scheme occurred to me. I would teach Evangeline her word now. How it would surprise the others when they came down and said "Hallo" to her, to find themselves promptly answered back!

"Evangeline," I said, "listen. Hallo, hallo, hallo, hallo." I stopped a moment and went on more slowly. "Hallo--hallo--hallo."

It was dull work.

"Hallo," I said, "hallo--hallo--hallo," and then very distinctly, "Hal-_lo_."

Evangeline looked at me with an utterly bored face.

"Hallo," I said, "hallo--hallo."

She picked up a monkey nut and ate it languidly.

"Hallo," I went on, "hallo, hallo ... hallo, _hallo_, HALLO, HALLO ... hallo, hallo--"

She dropped her nut and roused herself for a moment.

"Number engaged," she snapped, and took another nut.

* * * * *

You needn't believe this. The others didn't when I told them.

A.A.M.

* * * * *

From "Notes, Questions and Answers" in _T.P.'s Weekly_:--

"Author wanted, and where the whole poem can be found:--

"Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I'll not ask for wine."

C.E.H.

[Herrick. A collected edition of the poems is published by J.M. Dent at 1s. net.--ED. N.Q.A.]"

Afterthought by ED. N.Q.A.: "At least I think it's HERRICK ... or WORDSWORTH ... but wait till the Editor comes back from Algiers. He's sure to know."

* * * * *

"Sir John Thornycroft kicked off in a football charity match at Bembridge, Isle of Wight, in which the combined ages of the players was 440 years."--_Hull Daily Mail_.

Why not?

* * * * *

"M. Timiriazeff, president of the Anglo-British Chamber of Commerce, followed with a speech."--_Daily Telegraph_.

We like his Anglo-British name.

* * * * *

WINTER SPORTS.

[_Some additional aspects of the fashionable topic that seem to have escaped the writers of similar articles in our contemporaries_.]

(I.)--BUYING THE HOTEL.

For this game several players are required, who form themselves into one or more parties according to numbers. A player, preferably a woman, is selected as leader, and should possess nerve, coolness, and an authoritative voice. The object of the game is to secure (1) The best rooms; (2) Tables with a view; (3) The controlling interest in all projects of entertainment. It is an important advantage for the leader to have stayed in the hotel at least once previously. If she is able to announce on arrival, "Here we are as usual!" and to greet the proprietor and staff by name, this often gives an initial blow exceedingly hard to parry. English visitors have been proving very adept at the sport this season, with Americans a good second. The German game, on the contrary, is slower and less subtle.

(II.)--SPOTTING THE PARSON.

An amusing game that has been very popular at many Swiss resorts lately, and one that calls for the qualifications of a quick brain and a keen eye. The universal adoption of sweaters and woollen caps makes the task of the players one of considerable difficulty. Envelope-reading should be forbidden by the rules, and some codes even debar the offering of a _Church Times_ to a suspected stranger. The _Athenæum_ and _Spectator_ may, however, be freely employed as bait. A simpler version of the same sport called "HOW MANY SCHOOLMASTERS?" is often indulged in between December 20th and January 15th, after which latter date it loses its point.