Chapter 1

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 152.

June 20th, 1917.

=CHARIVARIA.=

A man who purchased sandwiches at a railway restaurant and afterwards threw them into the road was fined five shillings at Grimsby Police Court last week. His explanation--that he did not know they might injure the road--was not accepted by the Court.

* * *

We cannot help thinking that too much fuss has been made about trying to stop Messrs. RAMSAY MACDONALD and JOWETT from leaving England. So far as we can gather they did not threaten to return to this country afterwards.

* * *

A North of England man, obviously wishing to appear unusual, still persists in the stupid story that he did not hear the Messines explosion.

* * *

We can think of no finer example of the humility of true greatness than KING CONSTANTINE'S decision to abdicate.

* * *

There were forty thousand fewer paupers in 1916 than in 1915, according to figures recently published. The difference is accounted for by the number of revue-writers who have resumed their agricultural occupations.

* * *

In a small town in Australia, says a news item, over two tons of mice were killed in two days. For some unknown reason, which perhaps the Censor can explain, the name of the cat is withheld.

* * *

"Eliminate the middleman," demands a contemporary. It might prove a simpler affair, after all, than the present system of suppressing the inner man.

* * *

Mr. GINNELL, M.P., is responsible for the statement that "bringing an action against the police in Ireland is like bringing one against Satan in hell." The chief obstacle in the latter case is of course the total absence of learned counsel in that locality.

* * *

The KAISER, it appears, has lost no time in commiserating with his troops on their magnificent victory at Messines.

* * *

The title which Mr. JOHN HASSALL wrote under one of his sketches suggested the words for a song which has now been written. It is only fair to the artist to say that he was not aware that his quite innocent title would lead to this.

* * *

The National Service staff at St. Ermin's Hotel, Westminster, has been reduced by half. It is now expected that the unemployed half will volunteer for National Service.

* * *

Berlin announces that all through-lines in Germany are running. The case of the HINDENBURG Line seems to be infectious.

* * *

"No cheese," says _The Evening News_, "has quite the bite of Cheddar." At the same time, unless it wags its tail to show that it is friendly, we feel that every cheese with a bite like that would be much safer if muzzled.

* * *

Triplets were born in Manchester last week. The father is going on as well as can be expected.

* * *

Complaint has been made by a member of the Hounslow Burial Committee of courting couples occupying seats in the cemetery. The killjoy!

* * *

We can only suppose it was the hot weather that tempted a newsagent correspondent to ask whether Lord NORTHCLIFFE had gone to America on "sail or return."

* * *

Mr. BALFOUR, we are told, while staying at Washington, visited eleven public buildings and interviewed nine representative Americans on one day. There is some talk of his being elected an honorary American.

* * *

We wish to deny the foolish rumour that when he arrived in London from his American tour and was asked if he had had a good voyage, he remarked, "Sure thing, sonny. All the little Mister Congressmen gathered around, and it suited your Uncle Dudley very nicely and some more. Yep!"

* * *

An old lady was recently fined two pounds for putting out crumbs for birds. Had the bread-crumbs been put outside, instead of inside, the birds, no offence, it seems, would have been committed.

* * *

Newspapers in Germany may now be sold only to subscribers for one month or more. A similar measure for England is opposed on the ground that it would be most inadvisable to check the practice at present in vogue among patriotic supporters of the Coalition Government of buying _The Morning Post_ and _The Daily News_ on alternate days.

* * *

Bobbing for eels is being pursued with much enthusiasm on the Norfolk Broads. Two-bobbing for haddocks in Kensington is sport enough for most of us.

* * *

Large numbers of the German prisoners taken at Messines wore new boots and new uniforms. Other improvements included a less ragged rendering of the well-known recitation, "Kamerad!"

* * *

Asked what bait could be used for coarse fish, the late FOOD-CONTROLLER suggested one "made from bran, with a limited quantity of oatmeal." The correspondent has now written to inquire whether the fish have been officially informed of the new diet.

* * *

Four shillings a hundredweight is being paid for old omnibus tickets, but there are still a few people who use these vehicles for pleasure, without any motive of gain.

* * * * *

* * * * *

=Suspended Animation.=

"LAUNDRY.--Girl to hang up and make herself useful."--_Liverpool Echo_.

* * * * *

"For myself, I have very good reasons for not being in khaki. I live on a farm near the Grand Falls of the St. John River. These falls are second to Niagara in size and splendour, and attract visitors from all over the country."--_Canadian Paper_.

He must have told the recruiting-officer that he was subject to cataract.

* * * * *

=T.M.G.=

Farewell, my CONSTANTINE! A guardian navy Facilitates your exit on the blue; For Greece has been this long while in the gravy And he that put her there was plainly you; "TINO MUST GO!" was writ for all to see, Or, briefly, "T.M.G."

Whither, dear Sir, do you propose to sally? To Switzerland's recuperative air, To sip condensed milk in a private chalet Or pluck the lissom chamois from his lair, Or on the summit of a neutral Alp Recline your crownless scalp?

Or did you ask from him you love so dearly A royal haven fenced from rude alarms, Even though WILLIAM should reserve you merely A bedroom at "The Hohenzollern Arms," Having for poor relations on the loose No sort of further use?

Beware! I gather he might clasp his TINO Only too warmly to his heaving chest, Saying, "O how reward such merits? _We_ know! Thou shalt command an Army in the West! Yes, thou shalt bear upon the British Front The pick of all the brunt."

Frankly, if I were you, I wouldn't chance it. Fighting has never really been your forte; Witness Larissa, and your rapid transit, Chivied by slow foot-sloggers of the Porte; Far better make for Denmark o'er the foam; There is no place like home.

Try some ancestral palace, well-appointed; For choice the one where _Hamlet_ nursed his spite, Who found the times had grown a bit disjointed And he was not the man to put 'em right; And there consult on that enchanted shore The ghosts of Elsinore.

O.S.

* * * * *

=LESSONS OF THE WAR.=

I.

(_Acting upon instructions received from the 3rd Self-help Division the 9th Self-help Brigade issues its orders for a Raid._)

9TH SELF-HELP BRIGADE OPERATION ORDER No. 49. _August 1st, 1920_.

Ref. Maps. LONDON 1/40000 shoot 27^d S.W. and (Special) 1/500 (BROADMEAD).

1. The 9th Self-help Brigade will carry out a Raid upon BROADMEAD HOUSE, BROADMEAD SQUARE, W., on the night of 12/13 August.

2. The Raid will be carried out by the BILL SIKES and ROBIN HOOD Battalions. The CHARLIE PEACE Bn. will be in close support, and the DICK TURPIN Bn. in reserve.

3. The four sides of the house will be attacked simultaneously, the BILL SIKES Bn. attacking with one Coy. each on the North and West, and the ROBIN HOOD on the South and East.

4. The noise of entry will be covered by a barrage of street cries and taxi whistles. "Q." will arrange.

5. Zero hour will be notified later.

6. The grounds and approaches will be reconnoitred thoroughly and as many friends as possible made in the neighbourhood. Every opportunity of reconnoitring the house itself, either through friendship or by substitution for legitimate plumbers, window-cleaners, piano-tuners, etc., will be taken.

7. The Brigades on the Right and Left will co-operate by starting a street fight and a small fire respectively at some convenient distance from the scene of operations.

8. At Zero _minus_ one hour, a cordon of outposts will be established at a radius of 500 yards from the house, with strong points at the street corners. "Q." will arrange for a supply of hedging-gloves.

9. The general scheme of approach will be on the lines as laid down in the "Self-help Corps Standard Formation of Attack" (OK 340/CV/429).

10. Commanding Officers will submit a detailed scheme for the attack (with sketch maps) not later than 4 P.M. on August 6th.

11. Mopping-up parties will be detailed to deal with all dug-outs known to be occupied. Prisoners will not be taken, but undue roughness is to be discouraged as likely to bring discredit upon the service. Steps will be taken, however, to ensure the immediate, if temporary, silence of the obstreperous. O.C. Chloroform will arrange.

12. The Dog emplacement at G 36 A 0.8 will be dealt with by the Brigade Dog-fancier.

13. Brigade Cooks will be detailed in specified areas to act as decoys for Policemen.

14. All information as to the plans, intentions, appearance, habits and dispositions of inhabitants will be found in Appendix I. Some good interior photographs of the house have been obtained by Corps photographers acting as window-cleaners.

15. As foreshadowed in the Self-help Corps Intelligence Summary of June 29th most of the family will be away at the seaside by the date fixed for the Raid.

16. A teetotal Guard will be placed over all cellars.

17. Advanced Report Centre will be at G 25 D 93 ("The Peck and Jackdaw").

18. A site for a forward dump will be chosen--preferably on the BAYSWATER-BROADMEAD Road. "Q" will arrange.

19. Practice Raids will be carried out upon a model of the objective which will be erected at the depot.

20. Parties detailed for Glass-cutting, Safe-opening, etc., etc., will draw the necessary tools from the Main Dump at K 25 A on the 12th inst. "Q" will arrange.

21. Dress: Fighting Order with Rubber Soles.

22. A non-committal hot meal (without onions) will be served to all before starting. "Q" will arrange.

23. Results of the Raid will be collected and dumped at Advanced Brigade dump at G 36 A. "Q" will arrange for necessary transport. Distribution of proceeds will be made in accordance with G.R.O. 15. "_G_" _Staff will arrange_.

24. Please acknowledge. _Issued at 5.15 P.M._

Copies to Diary I. Diary II., etc., etc.

* * * * *

"Detroit aldermen yesterday adopted a resolution asking for the freedom of Ireland from British rule.

It is addressed to the president and was introduced by Alderman Walsh.

Other Irish patriots eager for the freedom of Erin who did sign the resolution were Jacob Guthard, William H.C. Hinkle, Joseph H. Bahorski, Joseph A. Miotke, Anthony Nowe, Herman Zink, Charles Braun, Charles A. Kocher, Oscar A. Dodt, John C. Bleil, Ralph G. Mitter, Alexander Dill, John A. Kronk, Herman Schultz, Albert G. Kunz, Frederick W. Wendell and Oscar Riopelle."

_Detroit Free Press_.

Your true Irish patriot doesn't mind what country he comes from.

* * * * *

* * * * *

=BLANCHE'S LETTERS.=

WAR FEVER.

_Park Lane_.

Dearest DAPHNE,--Juno ffarrington's wedding to the Oldcastles' boy, Portcullis, the other day, quite the best done of Allotment Weddings that are having a little vogue just now. Juno's white satin gown was embroidered with mustard and cress and spring onions in their natural colours, her veil was kept in place by a coronal of lettuce leaves, and, instead of a Prayer-Book or a posy, she carried a little ivory-and-silver spade. The effect was _absolutely!_ The 'maids had on Olga's latest in Allotment Wedding frocks, carried out in potato-brown charmeuse and cabbage-green chiffon; also they'd garden-hats, tied under the chin with ribbon-grass and with a big cluster of radishes at the left side, and each of them carried a bunch of small salad and a darling little crystal-and-silver watering-pot (Portcullis's gifts). The Duke of Southlands gave his daughter away, and Juno _insisted_ on his wearing a smock-frock and carrying a trowel, and just as the dear Bishop said, "Who giveth this woman?" the poor old darling dropped his trowel with a crash and rather spoilt things.

The wedding-cake was a great big war loaf stuck with flags. Juno cut it in old-fashioned style with Portcullis's sword. While we were doing ourselves well with war-bread and margarine, boiled eggs and plenty of champagne, the Controller of Wedding Breakfasts blew in (it's a new post, and he's two hundred and fifty able-bodied young assistants). He was curious to see what we were having, and cautioned us against throwing any rice after our bride and 'groom. "But how absurd, you ricky person!" chipped in Popsy, Lady Ramsgate, who, of course, is Juno's great-aunt. "_We_ never throw rice at our wedding-people! _That_'s only done by the outlying tribes of barbarians." It was a pity she attracted his notice, for he was down on her directly for having on a toque almost entirely made of young turnips and carrots. He said it was "an infraction of rule 150, cap. 4,500 of the Safety of the Empire Act, forbidding the use of the people's food for personal adornment."

The Allotment expression, which is the correct one now, is a look of interest and expectation, because what one's planted is coming up. _Some_ people rather spoil their Allotment expression by a _puzzled_ look. _Et pourquoi_? dear, they've _quite_ forgotten what they planted, and, though they _pretend_ they know _exactly_ what it is that's coming up, they really haven't the slightest!

My last photo is considered to show the Allotment expression in utter perfection. (It's been in _People of Position, Mayfair Murmurs_, and several other weeklies.) I'm standing in my potato-patch (my Allotment toilette is finished off by a pair of _enthralling_ little hob-nailed boots!) and I'm holding a rake and a hoe and a digging-fork in one hand and a garden-hose in the other; there's a wheel-barrow beside me, and I'm looking at the potato-plants with the _true_ Allotment smile, my dearest. I sent a copy of this picky to Norty, and under it I wrote those famous last words of some celebrated Frenchman (I forget whether it was MOLIÈRE or MIRABEAU or NAPOLEON): "_Je vais chercher un grand peut-être!_"

Wee-Wee is frightfully worried about Bo-Bo being so overworked. He used to be at the head of the Department for Telling People What to Do, and he and his five hundred assistants were worked half dead; and _now_ he's at the head of a still newer department, the one for Telling People What They're _Not_ to Do, and, though he's eight hundred clerks to help him, Wee-Wee says the strain is too great for words. He goes to Whitehall at ten every day and comes back at three! And then he has the Long-Ago treatment that's being used so much now for war-frayed nerves. The idea is to get people as far away from the present as poss. So when Bo-Bo comes in from Whitehall he lies down on a fearful old worm-eaten oak settle in a dim room hung with moth-eaten tapestry, and Wee-Wee reads CHAUCER to him, and sings ghastly little folk-songs, accompanying herself on a thing called a _crwth_--(it's a tremendously primitive sort of harp, but I can't believe that even a _crwth_ meant to make such a horrible noise as Wee-Wee makes on it!). Myself, I don't consider Bo-Bo a bit the better for the Long-Ago treatment, and there's certainly a wild look in his eyes that wasn't there before!

_M'amie_, would you like to hear the simply _odious_ storyette of Somebody's Cousin? Well, so you shall. Somebody is by way of being an intimate foe of mine, and Somebody's Cousin has long been a thorn in the flesh and a shaking of the head to his people. Before the War he belonged to the League for Taking Everything Lying Down, the Fellowship for Preventing People from Standing up against Foreign Aggression, and the Brotherhood for Giving up All Our Advantages to Aliens. He was of military age, and when war came, after giving vent to some completely detestable sentiments, he crossed to the U.S. and naturalised himself there, constantly attacking the country that was unlucky enough to produce him.

When the U.S. came in, he shed his citizenship in a hurry, fled to South America, and naturalised himself in a republic that had sworn by all its gods to keep out of the War _à tout prix_. This republic, however, changed its mind later and followed its big northern brother into the War, _et voilà_! Somebody's Cousin was at a loose end again. He afterwards naturalised himself in half-a-dozen small far-away nations that all finally came in, and _then, chérie_, he drifted down to the islands of the South Pacific (the favourite ocean of _his_ sort!) and had himself made an Ollyoola. (The Ollyoolas are a tribe that has _never in all its past history_ been known to go to war). He was made an Ollyoola with all the native rites, dancing and shrieking and so on, and he wore the correct Ollyoola dress (a few shells and his hair trained on sticks to stand straight up).

And _now_ comes the point of this storyette: Only a few weeks after Somebody's Cousin had become a full-blooded Ollyoola (I think that's the proper phrase), the Ollyoolas suddenly fell out with the Patti-Tattis (on the next island) and went to war, for _absolutely the first time_, with a _ferocity_, my Daphne, that seems to have been saving up through all their centuries of peacefulness!

Nothing's been heard since of Somebody's Cousin!

Ever thine, BLANCHE.

* * * * *

"AIRMEN'S ORDEAL IN THE NORTH SEA.

FIVE DAYS ON A PIECE OF CHOCOLATE."

_Continental Daily Mail_.

Rather a precarious perch.

* * * * *

"'GIB.' SHELLS FALL IN MOROCCO.

MADRID.--Near Algeciras 20 shells fell from the batteries of Gibraltar. There were no victims, and no damage was caused. The authorities at Gibraltar have given satisfactory explanations."--_Evening Paper_.

Still, we should like to know the nature of the explosive that blew Algeciras across the Straits.

* * * * *

KINSMEN AND NAMESAKES.

An official circular, commenting on the presentation at the Scala, in film form, of _The Crisis_, by Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL, the American novelist, adds the interesting statement, "the author is of course a distant cousin of the Right Hon. Winston Churchill, M.P."; This sounds a little ungracious. Why "of course _distant_?" But perhaps the gifted novelist shares the opinion held by Lord BERESFORD of the politician who did not write _The Crisis_, but is always trying to make one.

* * * * *

From the account of a military wedding in _The West London Press_:--

"The bridegroom was wearing a simple draped gown of lavender-blue crepe georgette, with a mushroom-shaped hat in the same shade, wreathed with small coloured flowers and draped with a blue lace veil."

Some mufti!

* * * * *

"When the Lord Provost ruled that the mater was not urgent, the Labourists created something of a scene."--_Glasgow Citizen_.

Quite justifiably, in view of the imminence of "Baby Week."

* * * * *

=THE DISSUADERS.=

For many years--ever since the first piece of chalk was applied to the first wall and advertising began its bombastic career--the advertiser's tendency has been to commend his wares, if not to excess, at any rate with no want of generosity. Everyone must have noticed it. But war changes many things besides Cabinets, and if the paper famine is to continue there will shortly be a totally novel kind of advertising to be seen, where dissuasion holds the highest place. For unless something happens those journals which have already done much to reduce circulation will have to do more and actually decry themselves. Such counsels as those which follow may before long meet the eyes, and, it is possible, influence the minds, of the great B.P.:--

* * *

THE PROPRIETORS OF

_THE TIMES_

Urge you to spend your money elsewhere.

_THE TIMES_

may have the best foreign correspondence, the latest news, the greatest variety of letters (in types of all sizes), the funniest dramatic criticisms, the sternest leading articles, and the only newspaper proprietor now acting as a plenipotentiary in America;

BUT

you are implored not to buy it.

Remember its virtues for future use, when skies are brighter, but disregard them to-day.

* * *

We appeal to the great-hearted Public to make a real effort and refrain from buying

_THE OBSERVER._

Sunday may be only half a Sunday without it;

But indulge in a little self-sacrifice.

Not only eat less bread But Read less GARVIN.

* * *

DOWN SPECTATORS!

Give

_THE SPECTATOR_

A WIDE BERTH.

There are reasons why it must be published regularly

But there are no reasons why you should buy it.

There is no better, saner, or soberer Critic of Life; but what of it?

We print all the latest Canine and Feline news; but never mind.

If you won't, as seems probable, down your glass, down your _Spectator_.

* * *

HELP TO WIN THE WAR

BY NOT BUYING

_THE DAILY CHRONICLE_.

* * *

Whatever Sixpenny weekly you buy don't let it be

_THE NATION_.

Owing to its persecution by the present incapable Government _The Nation_ is achieving an embarrassing popularity.

Please forget it.

Let your only

NATION

Be your determi-

Nation

NOT TO BUY IT.

* * *

THE PROPRIETORS OF

_THE STAR_

urge you not to buy it any more until the War is over and paper is cheap again.

Buy _The Evening News_ instead.

* * *

DON'T BUY

_THE SPHERE_.

IT IS ONLY SEVENPENCE A WEEK,

BUT DON'T BUY IT.

It is full of Pictures of the War, but you can do without them. It has punctual literary judgments of astounding finality by "C.K.S.," but they can wait.

Do anything in reason, but don't buy

_The Sphere_.

The depreciation, you observe, is not always quite whole-heartedly done. But it must be remembered that the habit of self-praise cannot be broken down in a minute, and this is only a beginning.

* * * * *

PAN PIPES.

In the green spaces of the listening trees Pan sits at ease, Watching with lazy eyes Little blue butterflies That flicker sidelong in the fitful breeze; While on his pipe he plays Quaint trills, and roundelays With dropping cadences; And shy red squirrels rub against his knees.

And, thro' the city's tumult and the beat Of hurrying feet, Those whom the god loves hear Pan's pipe, insistent, clear; Echoes of elfin laughter, high and sweet; Catch in the sparrows' cries Those tinkling melodies That sing where brooklets meet, And the wood's glamour colours the grey street.

=A LOCAL FOOD-CONTROLLER.=