Part 2

9. _From A. M. to J. H. B._

The Senior Typist has met with a reverse from an experimental hair-dye, and will not be visible for a week.

10. _From J. H. B. to A. M._

Approach the Book-keeper.

11. _From A. M. to J. H. B._

I have the honour to surmise that no definite purpose will be achieved through the diplomatic channel of the Book-keeper. He states that he prefers to keep himself to himself. Mr. Blenkins has already asked for his office cuffs, and a final severance of relations is imminent. I have not yet handed him his cuffs, which I have ventured to sequestrate on the ground that they are spotted with our ink.

12. _From J. H. B. to A. M._

Retain the cuffs pending diplomatic action from Mr. Theodore.

13. _From J. H. B. to Brother Theodore._

I enclose copies of correspondence relative to Blenkins' attempt to claim possession of our ink-spots. If in your opinion this constitutes a _casus belli_, I beg you to approach him with such menaces as are not inconsistent with the continuance of diplomatic relations.

14. _From T. B. to J. H. B._

In view of the gravity of the crisis, I have taken legal opinion. If the cuffs were not only spotted with our ink, but were also clipped with our scissors, then they are _ipso facto_ and _ad hoc_ to be considered as neutral territory within the meaning of the Statutes of International Office Law.

15. _From J. H. B. to A. M._

You should immediately ascertain, through the proper channels, if and (or) when and (or) how Blenkins clipped the cuffs. In the meantime you will convey to him that we should not be disposed to view with indifference any attempt on his part to violate the frontiers of neutral territory.

16. _From A. M. to J. H. B._

Blenkins has gone!

17. _Chorus of the Diplomats._

The resources of Diplomacy were strained to the uttermost.

* * * * *

* * * * *

LETTERS TO HAUPTMANN.

[_GERHART HAUPTMANN, the German dramatist and poet, has nominated Lord CURZON as Viceroy of England when it becomes a German province._]

If you'd trample on the Briton And secure his just abasement, Well, I think you might have written First to me. (Signed) ROGER CASEMENT.

If only as a recompense For my expenditure of jaw And anti-British "common-sense," Why not yours truly, BERNARD SHAW?

Would you avoid a bad rebellion? The man for you is CHARLES TREVELYAN.

Since all the Dublin Corporation Protest against my resignation, My long experience vice-regal Might mollify the German eagle If he should nest on College Green. Yours amicably, ABERDEEN.

Believe me, CURZON'S haughty hand Would lie too heavy on the land; No, to appease the British Isles Appoint yours truly, WILLIAM BYLES.

I fear the freedom-loving British Under Lord CURZON might grow skittish; Far better knit the nations twain Under a more pacific reign: For instance, BRUNNER'S; he's beyond Reproach. Yours ever, ALFRED MOND.

CURZON, I own, is not a noodle, But his demeanour is too feudal; Try ALFRED MOND: he is a stunner, Affectionately yours, JOHN BRUNNER.

As I am still without a seat, I'm not unwilling to compete For any post in which there's scope To preach humanitarian hope. You might, of course, secure elsewhere A smarter or a "faster" man, But none in "uplift" could compare With truly yours, CHARLES MASTERMAN.

* * * * *

ALONZO.

It was a bright Monday morning in September, and I was doing my usual patter dance in the dressing-room, striving to defeat the time-table--ten minutes for breakfast and five minutes to get to the station.

I dipped hurriedly into the collar-drawer, drew one forth, inverted it, cast a tie (Wadham Wanderers, E. team) into the parting and proceeded to secure the arrangement. The back stud operated without comment, but when I came to the front there seemed to be an inch or two of collar missing. At first I looked at it with mild surprise, then the horrible truth flashed through me.

I dashed into Joe's room.

"Look here," I exclaimed, "just look at my neck!"

Joe looked at it carefully for quite a minute.

"Yes," she remarked, "I think there is a tiny spot under the left ear. You've been drilling too much. You've been dressing too much to the left."

"No! No!" I shouted, tugging at the collar, "can't you see how swollen it is? It's that complaint you get from drinking chalky water. It's all your fault! I've told you hundreds of times to put a marble in the kettle."

Joe unfastened the collar, looked at it and laughed.

I snatched it back.

Inside there was a brief summary: "Alonzo. Fourfold. 14-1/2."

I take 16.

"That," said Joe, pointing to Alonzo, "must be the extra collar they sent from the laundry last week."

It was. Alonzo was a gift--a donation. Sleek, youthful and unsullied, he came to us, bringing an air of tragedy into the home.

Three times during that week I tried to soil his glossy coat, and each time a golden minute was shorn from my breakfast. After that I put him in the sock drawer.

At the end of the first week I said to Joe, "Alonzo is bored, the society of half-hose does not interest him. Send him home."

He was sent, and my wardrobe settled itself peacefully.

On the following Monday I dipped into the collar drawer, went through the usual rites, and----No, it didn't really startle me. He had returned.

I put him in the sock drawer again.

Evidently he had plans of his own. One week at the laundry and one week at "Sunnyside," alternating, as it were, between taking the waters and a rest cure.

I began to respect Alonzo, but at the same time I felt he must be shown that there is such a thing as authority. I put him in a cardboard box, addressed it myself, posted it myself, and wrote to the manager myself. You think that settled him? You do not know Alonzo. He is made of sterner stuff than that.

At the end of the week he was back again, well and cheerful. Coming of a resourceful and determined race we tried other means--I forget how many--of outing him. Once the manager took him away in a taxi and once our Ann consigned him to the ash-pit.

It was no good. We had to give it up. We adopted him. As I write, Alonzo rests in _his_ sock drawer, slightly fatigued but indomitable.

* * * * *

JOHN SMITH TO JOHANN SCHMIDT.

We thought you fellows over there, Before this all begun, Was queer in talk, but acted fair, And paid your way, and did your share Of things as should be done.

You made a lot of trashy stuff, And ate some. All the same, You beat us some ways sure enough, And seemed like pals, though brought up rough, For which you weren't to blame.

We reckoned when the trouble bust, Remem'bring what you'd been, You'd march to heel as you were cussed, And so you'd fight because you must, But still you'd fight us clean.

But now you've worked us murder-hot With filthy tricks you've played; And whether you were bid or not Is nought to us; we hate the lot What ordered or obeyed.

And so you're not the pals we thought, But foes, these rougher days; We're out against you till you're brought To book, your Chief and you, and taught To drop your bullying ways.

Now hear the truth. Your lives is poured For reasons one and two: HE draws his bright and shiny sword To make him one and only Lord Of all the world--and You.

And when your roofs is tumbling in, Your heads is cracked and cooled, You'll think the glory middling thin And hate the lying cheats like sin To see how you've been fooled.

By then it's odds you feel inclined To state the view you take In words that's not so sweet and kind But what they'll let them War-Lords find You're suddenly awake.

Till then you're heathen swine! Get fit To start and grow like men. Turn round and do your level bit Till brag and grab are past and quit, And then we'll pal again.

* * * * *

Motto for the Turkish Army in the Caucasus:--"There ain't going to be no Corps."

* * * * *

PATRIOTIC AIMS.

Peter's birthday is soon after Xmas, too soon after for Peter's taste--and mine.

"I want one or two good War Games," I said to the attendant at the toymonger's. "What have you got?"

"Several, Sir," she said. "Here is one, 'The North Sea Battle.' Made in London."

She opened a box containing realistic wooden models, in silhouette, of two battleships, two cruisers and two destroyers correctly coloured; a grey and grim-looking breech-loading gun with wooden projectiles, a gun embrasure and a small rule labelled "one mile." Every ship carried the White Ensign and my heart warmed to them at sight.

"Tell me the worst at once," I said, pulling out some loose silver.

"Two-and-eleven," she said.

"Sold in two places," I said; "I mean I'll have two of them without reading the rules."

"Here," she said, fingering another box, "is the 'Siege of Berlin.'"

"Intelligent anticipation," I said, "at any rate."

"Quite so," she said, "Made in London, too, by the same people."

I liked the idea of besieging Berlin, and when the open box disclosed a Rathhaus, churches, houses and other buildings, and a breach-loading gun similar to the one last before mentioned, to demolish the buildings with, I forked out another five-and-tenpence, and became the possessor of two "Sieges of Berlin."

I despatched one "Siege" and one "North Sea Battle" to some Belgian refugee children I know, and took the others home to Peter.

* * *

We tried the sea-fight first, Peter electing to play the part of Sir JOHN JELLICOE. I took the gun behind the embrasure and tried to prevent the ships from reaching my cardboard fastness by knocking them over _en route_. I found that, every time I missed, the whole Fleet was entitled to advance one mile--in reality about six inches--nearer my fort. The ships were provided with rockers and came up smiling if not squarely hit.

Long before my allowance of shot was expended, the British Fleet was upon me, and I metaphorically hoisted the white flag.

"Come," I said, as Peter set up the Rathhaus and other buildings of Berlin, "my heart is in this. How do we play?"

"Three shots each," said Peter, "and you score what's marked on the back of each building you knock down. I'll go first."

Peter's first shot was a miss. With his second he brought down a house which fell against a fort, knocking it over too. His third shot sailed harmlessly over the town and landed in the fender.

"How many?" I said.

"Twenty," said Peter. "Not bad."

"Keep your eye on father," I said, training the gun on the Rathhaus. I managed to conceal my surprise when the building fell at the first attempt.

"I shall knock you endways," I said.

The second shot hit the fallen Rathhaus, so I shifted the muzzle of the gun a little to the left. The buildings seemed well bunched together at this point.

It was a magnificent shot; the projectile skimmed past the church steeple as well-regulated shells should do, without damaging it, and swept away two buildings immediately behind it.

"That's some shooting," I said. "How many am I?"

"Nothing," said Peter.

"Look here, young man," I said, "explain yourself. First the Rathhaus."

"That's five," said Peter, "because it's so big and easy to hit."

I hadn't thought of that.

"Then there's this house--ten," said Peter.

"Come, we're getting on," I said. "That's fifteen; and now--this bigger house."

"Minus fifteen," said Peter. "That's the Red Cross Hospital. Oh, Daddy, you Hun!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

"THE IMAGE OF WAR."

(_It is reported that a pack of hounds has been sent out to our Army in France, and in this connection it is recalled that the Duke of WELLINGTON had also a pack sent to him from England for the amusement of his officers in the Peninsula._)

So _Jorrocks_ has said, and the captains shall ride, And a host of good fellows shall follow the fun, With War, in its realness, a space put aside-- There's a fox in the spinney that once held a Hun; There's a southerly wind and a wet sky and soft; There's a respite to snatch, death and ruin amid; Do not tongues in the woodland fling echoes aloft? Sounds the horn not as sweetly as ever it did?

When the DUKE and his armies, a hundred years back, Went Southward a courtlier foeman to seek, High Leicestershire lent him a galloping pack, And his stiff-stocked brigades hunted two days a week; Oh, Portugal's foxes ran stoutly and fast, And our grandfathers pounded in scarlet and blue, And they hunted each rogue to his finish at last, And they hunted old BONEY to famed Waterloo!

When the soldier once more hears the horn's silver note In hail of War's trumpets, the brazen and bold, Will the heart of him turn, 'neath to-day's khaki coat, To dreams of past glories and battles of old? Torres Vedras's lines and brave SOULT'S grenadiers, Badajos and the rest of that great long ago? Will he follow the fifes of those wonderful years? Will he think of his fathers? I really don't know.

Nay, I fancy he won't; but may-happen he'll see In his mind's eye the Midlands go rolling away In fair ridge and furrow, when steeple and tree Are blurred in the mists of a mild winter's day; He'll mark the gnarled pollards by Whissendine's brook, The far meads of Ashwell, dim, peaceful and still, Where the big grazing bullocks lift heads up to look When the Cottesmore come streaming from Ranksborough Hill.

Well, dreamer or no, may his fortune be good; May he find him delight in a hound and a horse Kin to what he has found in a Leicestershire wood, Like the best he has known in a Lincolnshire gorse! May the Fates keep him safe, and show sport to his pack Till he starts the great run that shall end at Berlin! And when cubbing is o'er may the Shires see him back, For the Lord send a Peace ere November comes in!

* * * * *

"Several houses are inundated in Brocas Street, including a public-house, where drink can only be obtained at the back door from punts."--_Edinburgh Evening Dispatch._

Come where the drink is cheaper; come where the punts hold more.

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

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

_House of Lords, Wednesday, January 6th._--Judging from public form, few would imagine that Lord KITCHENER OF KHARTOUM is a wag. Versatility in this direction triumphantly vindicated this afternoon. On approach to Christmas, House of Commons, after exceptionally long and arduous Session, adjourned till first week in February. That all very well for a frivolous miscellaneous assemblage. Under vigorous leadership of dominant opposition by Lord CURZON, Peers resolved to set example of higher devotion to public interest. Regardless of private convenience, arranged special sitting opening to-day.

Procedure unprecedented. Not unusual for Commons to sit while Lords make holiday. In long course of Parliamentary history contrary course unknown.

Some embarrassment at first in face of persistent questioning as to Why and Wherefore. Last week official explanation forthcoming. Announcement made that House was summoned primarily with intention of providing SECRETARY OF STATE FOR WAR with opportunity of making important statement as to actual situation and immediate prospects of the war.

This quite reasonable, indeed very desirable. Country growing increasingly impatient at being kept in the dark as to the progress of affairs in Flanders on the plea of military necessity for secretiveness. Now KITCHENER, provided with exceptional opportunity, would sweep away all clouds of doubt and ignorance. Of course with due reticence in hearing of the enemy, would take into his confidence the common people who provide blood and money for carrying on the gigantic struggle.

In anticipation of this lifting of the veil House crowded in measure reached only at great political crises. As usual on such occasions, side galleries flecked with Peeresses. But what ominous change in their appearance! The gay colours of other times are changed for monotony of deepest mourning. Black is the only wear.

K. of K. rose promptly on the stroke of half-past four, when public business is entered upon. Producing a bundle of MS. he bent his head over it and proceeded at the double to get through it. Noble Lords behind him and on back benches opposite found it difficult to follow the story.

Gradually point of little joke dawned upon them. Here were the benches thronged with expectant Peers, and all the world listening at the door for a message. That all very natural. But it was not an affair of K.'s initiative or arrangement. He was expected to make a speech, and it is a soldier's duty to obey orders. But if any supposed he was going to be more communicative than is the fashion established under the rule of the Censor they would find themselves sharply undeceived.

Turning to survey the Western theatre of the War, he remarked, "During the month of December the Allied Forces have made progress at various points." Chilling silence following upon enunciation of this familiar generality, he added, "The tide of battle has ebbed and flowed with varying success to either side." Facing about to view the situation Eastward, he informed noble Lords that "in East Prussia the situation has undergone but little change.... In the Caucasus, the end of November [six weeks ago] the Turkish Army was being pushed back towards Erzerum." Later, the House heard with startled amazement that "On our own coasts, on the morning of December 16, German battle cruisers bombarded for half-an-hour Hartlepool, Scarborough, and Whitby."

As to progress of recruiting, with respect to which information was looked forward to with exceptional interest, he went so far as to say, "Recruiting has proceeded on normal lines."

"The noble lord," said the LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION, amid a murmur of assent from the dumbfounded Peers, "has been very economical in his information," a really delicate way of stating the fact.

_Business done._--None.

_Friday._--Lords adjourned.

* * * * *

* * * * *

INDIAN INTELLIGENCE.

_Viâ_ BERLIN.

The following extracts from official despatches exchanged between General von Funkinstein and the German Great General Staff have been communicated to us by a wholly impeachable authority, and are published with no reserve whatever:--

(1) From the General Officer Commanding, &c.:--

"... with regard to various recent regrettable incidents in which sections of the Imperial trenches have been captured by native troops from British India (which, according to the German official programme, ought to have been in revolt long since) some light has now been cast upon the probable reason for this. Used as we now are to the contempt for every rule of civilized warfare displayed by our detestable and cowardly adversary, this new revelation of his cunning and brutality will nevertheless come as a shock.

"Aircraft observation has now made it clear that the force immediately opposed to my command is not the ---- Horse, as was believed, but a picked body of the First Indian Jugglers, specially recruited for this campaign. On the occasion of the last attack we were startled about 5.30 A.M. by a prodigious and ear-splitting noise proceeding from the trenches occupied by these troops--or troupes. Perhaps no soldiers in the world save our own incomparable warriors, trained to withstand modern German music, could have endured this ghastly din without flinching. Before long we observed a confused and stealthy movement on our front; but what was our emotion to see advancing out of the mist not the expected native charge, but a double line of trained cobras. Despite the inevitable shock produced by this discovery, energetic steps were at once taken to deal with the attack, and a brisk fire was opened with hand grenades. The results were however negligible, from the fact that the reptiles, apparently mistaking the hissing of the fuses for a challenge from others of their own species, instantly and savagely bit them off, thus rendering the grenades ineffective. Under these circumstances I had no alternative but to evacuate my position, a movement that was accomplished in fair order and very creditable time, myself leading..."

(2) Extract from copy of reply by Chief of Great General Staff, Berlin:--

"I am commanded by H.I.M. to inform you that you must retake trenches at once, regardless of loss. Reports of scandalous breach of all civilised laws forwarded to Presidents Geneva Convention and Hague Tribunal. Two reserve battalions of Guards leave Potsdam to-night. Hope that an accentuated mongoose-step movement may crush the new enemy. Please report at once."

(3) From Same as No. 1:--

"Regret to convey further unfavourable development with regard to our operations against the Jugglers' Corps. Having tempted a large body of these into open country some distance to the rear of our original lines, I ordered an attack in what should have been overwhelming force. The enemy was at this stage entirely exposed to our fire, being without any possibility of cover. Unfortunately, just as we had them at our mercy, a concerted movement by their entire strength, known (I believe) as the Mango Trick, resulted in the appearance of a dense grove of these trees, behind which the enemy is at present effectually screened."

(4) From the same:--

"Our treacherous foe has again escaped us. An heroic attack by the bayonet upon the Mango Grove mentioned in previous despatch was successful in capturing the position, but only in time to see the last unit of the defending force vanishing up a rope, which with a large number of others was dangling without visible attachment. The effect of this renewed failure upon the _moral_ of the Imperial army has unfortunately been considerable. I learn from my agents that the enemy is now bringing up a number of heavy hypnotists for use against me personally. Please wire instructions."

(5) From the same as (2):--

"Your resignation on the ground of ill-health regretfully accepted. Return at once."

* * * * *

"THE SEED OF THE WAR

IN UNIVERSITIES & SCHOOLS DAN GERSOFFALSEE DUCATION."

_Freeman's Journal._

But why suddenly break into Flemish?

* * * * *