Part 1

Punch, or the London Charivari.

Volume 150, May 24, 1916.

CHARIVARIA.

According to a contemporary, a regiment quartered at Pembroke Dockyard had lost two thousand blankets "by pilfering." We shudder to think what a real Pembroke burglar would get away with.

* * *

"I am a looker for things," said a man at Willesden tribunal last week when asked what his occupation was. The nation, which is paying £5,000,000 a day for the privilege of pursuing the same occupation, would be interested to compare notes with him on the question of whether anything ever turns up.

* * *

"A Saxon pot, quite perfect, has been found at St. Martha's Hill, near Guildford," says a morning paper. Here is striking evidence in support of the charge, which has more than once been levelled, that influential alien enemies are still at large with the connivance of the authorities.

* * *

"The life-blood of England to-day is sulphuric acid," said a Professor at University College the other day. That is certainly the impression one gets from reading the more vitriolic section of our Press.

* * *

The London County Council is teaching Esperanto. The innovation is intended to meet the needs of the lady tram-conductors, to whom convention denies the right to "suffer and be strong" in words of general currency.

* * *

A soldier who lost his speech at the battle of Loos has recovered it as the result of an operation for appendicitis. He has the added satisfaction of knowing that greater soldiers than he have been compelled by the exigencies of the present War to swallow their words.

* * *

At Willesden a conscientious objector has eaten a £1 note in preference to giving it up in part payment of his fine of forty shillings. It would probably work out cheaper in the end to swallow the Compulsion Bill.

* * *

While the Ealing Inspector of Shops is serving in the Army his official duties are to be carried on by his wife. It is no doubt in anticipation of other positions of this sort being thrown open to the female sex that so many women can nowadays be seen familiarising themselves with this class of war work in Regent Street and its neighbourhood.

* * *

In a recent appeal case a man who had received sentences amounting to twenty-six years begged to be put under chloroform, as he had heard that people under the influence of this drug always told the truth when they were asked questions. As a fact, however, the most that the medical profession have ever claimed for it in this way is that it often enables them to get a little inside information.

* * *

A Belfast man who was fined for groaning at Mr. ASQUITH is understood to have informed a sympathetic friend that if he'd known that ten shillings was all he would be fined, begorra, he'd have had thirty-shillings' worth, so he would.

* * *

"To get and keep an upright carriage," says a woman-writer in _The Daily Mail_, "stand with the feet eighteen inches apart and the hands clasped above the head. Now, as if chopping wood, swing the hands down between the parted feet, then bring them up over the head again, and repeat the movement twenty times or so." Personally, as we consider it bad form to keep any sort of carriage just now, we shall remain faithful to the less spectacular custom of whistling for a taxi.

* * *

From the Personal column of _The Times_:--"Airman will bring down Zeppelins. Ladies, Gentlemen." An excellent idea in the present condition of our own Air Service. As in the well-known case of the male and female gondolas, one of each gender to breed from would do for a beginning.

* * *

As a war economy the London County Council have disposed of the major part of the waterfowl that used to adorn the London Parks. A few ornamental geese however are still to be seen in the neighbourhood of the War Office.

* * *

We feel bound to take exception to the levity of a contemporary, which recently introduced an account of a suicide with the heading: "A Riverside Scream."

* * *

A well-known opera-singer is now hauling cabbages on a farm. The ruling passion strong in War. Bouquets all the time.

* * * * *

Commercial Candour.

From a film advertisement:--

"THE GIRL OF LOST ISLAND.--Featuring LILLIAN LORRAINE in a Picturesque Role. There are twelve chapters. I have seen them all, because I was compelled to do so."

_Newcastle Evening Chronicle._

* * * * *

"Livers are being lost on the banks of the Yser."

_Egyptian Mail._

An Anglo-Indian Colonel tells us that he was so glad to part with his that he hasn't taken any steps to recover it.

* * * * *

"St. Paul knew what he was talking about when he said to Herod, 'Too much thinking has made thee mad.'"

_Letter in an Evening Paper._

That is where St. PAUL had an advantage over the correspondent.

* * * * *

More Impending Apologies.

"Sir A. A. Booth is chairman of the committee appointed by the Government to inquire into the future of shipping and shipbuilding. It is not intended to be an ornamental committee either, for Sir A. Denny and Professor Abell, two of our leading naval architects, are on it."--_Evening Paper._

* * * * *

The Kaiser and the Daylight Saving Bill.

"For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful, and good husbandry."

_Shakspeare's Henry_ V., Act IV. Sc. I. 6-7.

* * * * *

"His Holiness, Pope Pius, taking action, exhorts the Irish Bishops to be thoroughly loyal."--_Bray and South Dublin Herald._

The recent disturbances in Dublin seem to have made the late Pope turn in his grave.

* * * * *

MORE PEACE-TALK IN BERLIN.

TO THE WAR-LORD.

"How beautiful upon the mountain-tops Their feet would sound, the messengers of Peace!" So into neutral cars your unction drops, Hinting a pious hope that War may cease-- War, with its dreadful waste, Which never suited your pacific taste.

Strange you should turn so suddenly humane, So sick of ravage and the reek of gore! Dare we assume that Verdun's long-drawn strain Makes you perspire at each Imperial pore? Or that your nerve's mislaid Through cardiac trouble caused by our Blockade?

You thought to finish on the high wave's crest; To say, "These lands that 'neath our sceptre lie-- Such as we want we'll keep, and chuck the rest, And to the vanquished, having drained 'em dry, We will consent to give, Out of our clemency, the right to live."

Then you came down a long, long way, and said, "For pure desire of Peace, and that alone, We'll deem the dead past buried with its dead, Taking, in triumph's hour, a generous tone; Uplift the fallen foe And affably restore the _status quo_."

Fool's talk and idle. In this Dance of Death The man who called the piper's tune must pay, Nor can he stop at will for want of breath. Though War you chose, and chose its opening day, It lies not in your power To stay its course or fix its final hour. O.S.

* * * * *

IN THE AIR IN 1940.

["Wars of the future will be waged in the air...cities will be laid waste in a night."--_Press._]

_April 20, 1940._--Liberia, in a moment of Ministerial exuberance, sends a Note to China alleging the death of a Krooboy subject who had been forced to study the Chinese language. An indemnity of £100,000,000 is asked.

_April 22._--China, mildly surprised, promises investigation. Owing to an oversight, however, the reply is sent in Chinese characters, which gives the Liberians a just _casus belli_.

_April 23._--Liberia despatches her one airship to China _viâ_ Tibet. Many bombs are dropped on the Chinese Empire and several rice-fields are quite spoilt. The Chinese Ambassador, whom the airship conveyed from Liberia, is also dropped--and spoilt.

_April 24._--China sends four airships to bomb Liberia. These, however, are unable to locate the Black Republic and return, after dispensing with the company of the Liberian Ambassador while over Lake Chad.

_April 26._--China addresses a curt Note to Liberia, requesting her to be good enough to state her exact whereabouts.

_May 1._--The Grand Lama directs a plaintive Note to Liberia, alleging that on April 23 a Liberian airship violated the neutrality of Tibet.

_May 3._--Liberia, never having heard of Tibet, but believing the G.L. to be a species of camel and a great fetish, publishes an apology in _The Liberian Times (and Advertiser)_, which, however, does not circulate in Tibet.

_May 4._--China, after exhaustive inquiries, despatches another air-fleet, but again fails to locate her quarry.

_May 5._--Liberia again raids China by air. Some stones in the Great Wall are badly chipped.

_May 7._--Liberia issues her first official communiqué through the medium of _The Liberian Times (and Advertiser)_:--"On the night of May 5-6 our Naval and Military airship attacked the Chinese cities of Pekin, Hankow and others too intricate of pronunciation to be mentioned here. Incendiary and explosive bombs were dropped on the fortifications, gun emplacements, waterworks and waxworks at Pekin. A battery and many hens were silenced at Hankow. Our entire air-fleet returned safely and hurriedly."

_May 9._--The G.L. of Tibet sends another Note to Liberia, protesting against a further grave infringement of neutrality, several eggs of dubious quality and the remnants of an unsavoury stew having been dropped from a Liberian airship on Tibetan territory on the night of May 5-6.

_May 11._--Liberia publishes another apology, and sacks her air _chef_.

_May 13._--Two squadrons of Chinese airships scour the globe but cannot find Liberia. Several are forced to land in the Arctic Circle and are interned by the Esquimaux.

_May 15._--The G.L. of Tibet sends another Note to Liberia.

_May 16._--Liberia, owing to a paper shortage, makes no reply.

_May 17._--Liberia adopts the Group System.

_May 18._--Introduction of "starring and badging" in Liberia. Owing to a slight miscalculation all trades and professions are "reserved."

_May 19._--Liberia abandons Group System.

_May 24._--Liberia again despatches her airship to China _viâ_ Tibet. The raider falls in flames near the Forbidden City, the commander having been rather careless with his cigar in one of the gas chambers.

_May 25._--The G.L. of Tibet buys a typewriter and some carbon sheets, and begins a campaign of daily Notes to Liberia.

_May 26_-June 5.--Liberia lies low.

_June 7._--China, after fifteen futile attempts to locate Liberia, sues for peace, asking Liberia to send an envoy who will be able to guide airships carrying Peace delegates and the first instalment of indemnity to Liberia.

_July 12._--Ten Chinese airships, loaded with Peace delegates and money, and piloted by the Liberian envoy, travel to the Black Republic. Arrived over the much-sought country, the Peace delegates drop their pilot and aid the airships' crews in wiping Liberia off the face of the earth.

_July 14._--The G.L. of Tibet disposes of his typewriter at a considerable loss.

* * * * *

In a Good Cause.

Mr. _Punch_ is bound to plead for THE CHILDREN'S AID COMMITTEE, who undertake the care of the motherless children of our fighting men, feeding and clothing them and finding homes for them in the country. This labour of love has far outgrown the modest scope of its original plan and now stands in urgent need of assistance. Except for a Christmas Gifts Fund no appeal has yet been made to the public in the Press. Mr. _Punch_ is very confident that he will not ask in vain for help in a cause that so nearly touches the hearts of all; and that he may rely on his many generous readers to see that this good work does not fail, both for the children's sake and for the comfort of their fathers who are fighting our battles.

Gifts of money and clothing, and offers of hospitality will be very gratefully acknowledged by Miss MAXWELL-LYTE, Hon. Treasurer of The Children's Aid Committee, 9, South Molton Street, London, W.

* * * * *

* * * * *

BLANCHE'S LETTERS.

LAND-LADIES.

_A Farm, Somewhere in the Country._

DEAREST DAPHNE,--I'm on the land! _Several_ of us are on the land! No one need worry any more about agriculture and rotation of crops and all that sort of thing being stopped by the War. We're going to see to it. It is positively _enthralling_ work! Lady Manoeuvrer wrote me an agonised letter the other day, asking me if I thought there'd be any season in London, and if it would be worth her while to take a house and give some parties for Bluebell. And I wrote back: "Please--_please_ don't talk to me about London and seasons and _parties_! I know absolutely _nothing_ of such matters. I'm on the land!" And I wound up with, "This comes hopping," in real farmers' style.

I wish you could see me ploughing, dearest. My ploughman's pinny, big soft hat and leggings are a dream. (_À propos_, the "ploughman's pinny" is going to be _the_ summer coat this year.) Oh, my Daphne, I plough such an adorable furrow! Yesterday, when I was at it, the oldest inhabitant came and leaned on a gate to watch me--one of those fearful creatures, you know, who've lived through six reigns and can read small print and smoke six pipes a day, and end by getting into the daily papers.

"Be you one o' they fine Lunnon ladies wot 'ave come to these parts to blay at varmin'?" he asked.

"We haven't come to _play_ at farming," I told him; "we've come to take the men's places and help save the country."

"Yon's a wunnerful bad furrow," said the creature. "And what be goin' to sow in it?"

"Oh, corn or chaff, or whatever it is people eat, I suppose," I said.

"Seems to Oi the right crop for such a wunnerful crooked furrow as yon 'ud be _tares_," said the horrid old thing; "but happen you don't know what tares be--happen you don't read your Bible."

I was starting up the field again by that time and paid no more attention to him. The oldest inhabitant is _proverbially_ a most unpleasant character, I believe. Beryl and Babs are also doing very well down here. And now that we've learned all about farming and agriculture we're training _numbers_ of girls and putting them on the land, (_Entre nous, chérie_, it's not so difficult to _put_ them on the land as to _keep_ them on it. Some of them are a wee bit inclined to "put their hands to the plough and look black," to quote dear SHAKSPEARE, that we've all been talking of so much lately.) Beryl has developed positively _shining_ gifts as a _drover_. She drives cattle into the nearest market town twice a week, and does it _à merveille_. (I _can't_ say the dear thing's drover's coat and hat are becoming--indeed, I never saw her look worse!) She has a large class of women and girls learning to be drovers. But unluckily, the other day, there was a regrettable little affair. Beryl was taking a big herd of cattle along to the market town, with her class in attendance, when one of the bullocks stopped to nibble at the hedge. Beryl told a girl in the class to give it a tap and send it on.

"I'm afraid to," said the girl.

"Oh," said Beryl, "you city girls are duffers at country life! What's there to be afraid of?" and she went up to the bullock and gave it a smart whack with her drover's stick. "Come," said, "no nonsense! Go on with the others," and she gave it a harder whack.

In a moment the creature turned upon her with a simply _odious_ expression in its eyes and began to bellow; and _then_, dearest--_wasn't_ it a pity?--Beryl suddenly lost her nerve, dropped her drover's stick, and climbed to the top of a big gate near at hand, while the class ran back along the road, shrieking. As for the cattle, terrified by the shrieks of the class, they took to their heels (if they have such things), and were finally stopped by a farmer, who drove them into the market himself.

Everyone's so glad General Dodderidge is better. You remember his marrying Mittie Jermyn _en troisièmes noces_ some years ago? The wedding was at Newmarket; Mittie was married in her racing colours, and her famous Oaks and One Thousand winner, "Give-'em-beans," was her only bridesmaid. It was quite a nice marriage, but they've not seen much of each other for several years. Poor Mittie was fearfully _affaissée_ when the War hit racing so hard; but she's found herself again now, and the last we heard of her she was buying and breaking horses for the Remount Department somewhere in the world. The dear General, being enormously old, couldn't take any part in the War, but he was like the war-horse, you know, dearest, mentioned by the Psalmist, that "sayeth Ha, ha! through a trumpet"; he read _every_ daily and weekly paper, with all the conflicting reports from both sides, till at last he was in a frightful state. Sir William Kiddem took him in hand, he said, only just in time to save his cerebral spheres and nerve centres from doing something horrible in a dozen syllables. And now, with newspapers taboo and a milk and egg diet, the old darling is so much better that he helped at our matinée in town the other day in aid of the "Fund for Manicuring Amateur Farm Hands."

All the people one knows were perfectly sweet in placing their talents at one's disposal for the benefit of the Fund. (Has it ever struck you, my Daphne, how _much_ readier people are to offer their _talents_ than their _money_?--even though they may have _immensely_ more of the latter than the former.) It was a tremendous programme. General Dodderidge, who said he'd been considered a very good ventriloquist in his time, gave a turn with one of those doll-things. I'm sure it was a topping turn, because the dear General laughed so often himself at the things he was saying. Several people, however, said that the voice, when they could hear it, seemed to be always the General's and never the doll's; but there'll always be grumblers.

The gem of the afternoon was certainly Hermione Shropshire's song and dance, "Sal of the Supper Club." She was coached by the famous Jenny Jolliwell, who's called "The Diva of the Dials;" and I hear that Jenny (who was one of our programme-sellers) said afterwards, "Lumme, duchess, you went one better than me, you did, straight! If I dared to give 'Sal' like that at the Syndicate Halls I'd have the Lord High What's-his-name down on me in two ticks!"

_Wasn't_ that a triumph for dear Hermione?

Ever thine, BLANCHE.

* * * * *

* * * * *

Vaulting Ambition.

The Germans seem to have adopted a new method of hiding their losses. We read in _The Edinburgh Evening Dispatch_ that the attack on the Mort Homme "has brought no kudos to the Crown Prince--only more catacombs."

* * * * *

NURSERY RHYMES OF LONDON TOWN.

XIII.--LADYWELL.

The Lady sat On the brink of the Well; She lost her balance And in she fell! They fished her up With a crooked pin; She came out wetter Than she went in. "Well, Lady, well?" "Sir, very ill! If you sit by the Well You are certain to spill."

XIV.--SHEPHERDESS WALK.

Walk, Shepherdess, walk, And I'll walk too, To find the ram with the ebony horn And the gold-footed ewe;

The lamb with the fleece of silver Like Summer sea-foam, And the wether with the crystal bell That leads them all home.

Walk, Shepherdess, walk, And I'll walk too, And if we never find them I shan't mind--shall you?

* * * * *

"Wanted, cast-off clothing for pen of profitable pedigree bantams."--_The Lady._

Moulting already?

* * * * *

ENGLAND CAUGHT OUT.

AS DETECTED THROUGH GERMAN SPECTACLES.

The malignant and perfidious English have again to eat their own words. Indeed, they have eaten them. It will be remembered that on every occasion of one of our glorious Zeppelin raids our official report of the damage done, notwithstanding the meticulous accuracy which those who draw up the reports impose upon themselves, has been angrily contradicted by the English Press, always under some heading attributing habitual mendacity and wilful and continuous dishonesty to the German headquarters.

Germans do not lie. There is no need. Their deeds are so terrific and sweeping as it is that the slightest embroidery or exaggeration would produce an effect to stagger humanity. Hence when our reports said on one occasion that our Zeppelins had irretrievably damaged the fortified town of Margate, and on another occasion that our Zeppelins had practically destroyed the formidable garrison of Ramsgate, and on a third occasion that our Zeppelins had almost eliminated that English Kronstadt, Yarmouth, and on a fourth occasion that the menacing citadel of Cromer had been reduced to ruins, and on a fifth occasion that the hitherto impregnable fortress of Lowestoft had become pregnable owing to the wonderful science of the revered Count ZEPPELIN--when our reports said these things they recorded facts, although the reptile English Press instantly hissed out denials and attacks.

But justice will prevail, even in England, although one may have to wait long for it. And now, some while after these magnificently successful raids, the admission is made that our official reports, so suspect and derided, were right all the time. In one of the leading English papers we find the following words in an article entitled, "Prospects for the Summer Holidays." For it seems that, in spite of the famine and other hardships which the immortal German army and supreme German navy are inflicting upon England, some of these trivial islanders are proposing to go to the seaside as usual this year--either out of a paltry bravado or by arrangement with the Government to create an illusion of prosperity and composure. But, whereas normally the watering-places of the whole country are open to them for their obscene and brutish frolics, this year they are not expected to patronise the East coast--that is to say the English shores of the German Ocean. And why? The reason is not without its flattery to us; and it also carries with it the damning admission of the absolute exactitude, the minute veracity of the German official reports of the Zeppelin raids which previously the English papers had conspired to impugn. We give the precise words:--

"There is, we fear, every reason to anticipate a barren season for the East Coast resorts, usually so popular. From Margate and Ramsgate, right up through Lowestoft, Yarmouth, Cromer and Cleethorpes to Scarborough and Whitby, they have, it cannot be denied, been _badly hit_ by the Zeppelin raids."