Chapter 2

London was probably never richer in comic actors than at the present moment, for not only is W.H. BERRY at the Adelphi, LESLIE HENSON at the Gaiety, ARTHUR ROBERTS at the Oxford singing his old songs, and ROBERT HALE and GEORGE ROBEY twice daily elsewhere, but in the Law Courts Playhouse CHARLES DARLING has been lately at his very best. Dropping in there last week, during the performance of a new farce, entitled _Romney's Rum 'Un_, I was again fascinated by the inexhaustible wit and allusive badinage of this great little comedian, beside whose ready gagging GEORGE GRAVES himself is inarticulate. Had not GEORGE ROBEY invented for application to himself the descriptive phrase, "The Prime Minister of Mirth," it should be at once affixed to the Law Courts' fun-maker; but, since it is too late to use that, let us think of him as "The Chancellor of the Exchequer of Mirth."

CHARLES DARLING'S success is the more remarkable because he keeps so still. He sits in his chair as steadily as another of his outdistanced rivals, SAM MAYO ("The Immobile Comedian," as he is called), remains standing. He has few gestures; he rarely, if ever, sings, and I have never seen him dance; and yet the way in which he "gets over" is astonishing. "Laughter holding both his sides" is the most constant attendant of this theatre.

What is the secret? Well, first and foremost it is of course to be sought in the genius of the actor himself; but contributory causes are the acceptivity of the audience, which is more noticeable in the Law Courts than in any other London theatre, and the willingness of his fellow-performers to "feed" him, as stage-folk have it; that is to say, provide him with materials upon which (again resorting to stage language) he may "crack his wheezes." The other day, for example, that excellent comedian, JOHN SIMON, was his principal ally in this way, and nothing could have been better than the sympathy between the two funny men. To CHARLES DARLING naturally fell the fat of the dialogue, but no one enjoyed the treat more than JOHN SIMON, in whose dictionary the word jealousy does not exist. LESLIE SCOTT also did his best to "feed" his principal, and the results were a scream.

If the jokes were now and then a little legal, what did it matter? Many of the audience were legal too, and that there is no better audience the reports of the farces played here day after day abundantly prove. They are out for fun, and therefore in an appreciative and complaisant mood.

To prove a comedian's genius to the mere reader is a difficult matter, and one can never hope to re-embody him in all his humorous idiosyncracies; but quotation comes to one's aid, and in the case of such a wit as CHARLES DARLING it is invaluable. Thus JOHN SIMON, referring to Mrs. SIDDONS' unwieldiness in her old age, said that in a certain part she had to be helped from her knees by two attendants. Quick as lightning came the comment, "When she was younger she was able to rise on her own merits." Was ever so exquisitely funny and unexpected a turn given to the dull word "merits"? Another perfect thing from this diverting piece, followed also by Homeric cachinnations, was the mock-serious apophthegm: "If a cloud is going to support a lady of substantial proportions, you must make it fairly solid."

I came away with reluctance, filled with wonder at the want of enterprise shown by our revue-managers in not having, long ere now, secured CHARLES DARLING'S services. If only he continues to take his art seriously he has a great future. Meanwhile I am applying embrocation to my sore sides.

* * * * *

NATURE NOTES.

_"The Gloaming,"_

_North Kensington_.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I wonder if any of your intelligent readers have noticed the wonderful adaptability of Nature, of which I send you the following remarkable instance:--The yellowhammer, which we are always told sings, "A little bit of bread and no che-e-ese," has (unless my ears grossly deceive me) changed its words this year to "A little bit of cheese and no bre-e-ead!" Need I say more?

Your obedient servant, OBSERVATOR.

* * * * *

"Mr. Isaac L.---- is in Cape Town. We hope the change will do Mrs. L.---- good."--_Weekly Paper_.

We trust that no domestic differences are indicated.

* * * * *

"The bread ...had been collected from local hostels and barracks for pigs."--_Daily Mail_.

Does the writer delicately hesitate to call a sty a sty, or has the internment of the food-hog really begun?

* * * * *

"Lord Robert Cecil concluded: 'There is a well-known French proverb, Que; messieurs, les assassins commencement--let the murderers begin.'"--_Daily News_.

Our contemporary has begun.

* * * * *

REVENTLOW RUMINATES.

I have no wounds to show; the cannon's thunder Does not impair my rest. It's just as well, For, though I dote on blood, and thoughts of plunder Act on my jaded spirit like a spell, I could not but regard it as a blunder If Prussia's foremost scribe should stop a shell.

So, while I sport the usual iron crosses, No feats of valour pinned them on my breast, But writing up the sanguinary losses Inflicted by our genius in the West. The punctual theme of my Imperial boss is "Turn on a victory!" and I do the rest.

To praise each spasm of ruthlessness that passes Down cringing HOLLWEG'S compromising spine, Boost the pretensions of the ruling classes And hail the Hohenzollerns as divine, And never hesitate to tell the masses They are and will continue to be swine:--

These are my task. And there are compensations About the job that field-grey heroes lack. Although, e.g., there is a dearth of rations, I'm not the one that goes without his whack; Nor do the bayonets of inferior nations Send nervous chills down my retreating back.

Yet sometimes in the small and early watches I think, "Good Lord! suppose the U-boats fail! Or our Colossus of the purple blotches Should let the Allies get him by the tail! Suppose this war is one of Deutschland's botches, And Right, not Might, should happen to prevail!"

There'd be a revolution; nought could stop it. Not that I'd weep if WILHELM had to go; But what if Holy Junkerdom should cop it? That would be most unfortunate--and, oh! Supposing Count REVENTLOW had to hop it, Kultur would never rally from the blow.

ALGOL.

* * * * *

ROYAL ACADEMY DEPRESSIONS.--II.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ZERO.

("_Zero-hour_"--_commonly known as "Zero"_--_is the hour fixed for the opening of an Infantry attack._)

I woke at dawn and flung the window wide. Behind the hedge the lazy river ran; The dusky barges idled down the tide; In the laburnum-tree the birds began; And it was May and half the world in flower; I saw the sun creep over an Eastward brow, And thought, "It may be, this is Zero-hour; Somewhere the lads are 'going over' now."

Somewhere the guns speak sudden on the height And build for miles their battlement of fire; Somewhere the men that shivered all the night Peer anxious forth and scramble through the wire, Swarm slowly out to where the Maxims bark, And green and red the panic rockets rise; And Hell is loosed, and shyly sings a lark, And the red sun climbs sadly up the skies.

Now they have won some sepulchred Gavrelle, Some shattered homes in their own dust concealed; Now no Bosch troubles them nor any shell, But almost quiet holds the thankful field, While men draw breath, and down the Arras road Come the slow mules with battle's dreary stores, And there is time to see the wounded stowed, And stretcher-squads besiege the doctors' doors.

Then belches Hell anew. And all day long The afflicted place drifts heavenward in dust; All day the shells shriek out their devils' song; All day men cling close to the earth's charred crust; Till, in the dusk, the Huns come on again, And, like some sluice, the watchers up the hill Let loose the guns and flood the soil with slain, And they go back, but scourge the village still.

I see it all. I see the same brave souls To-night, to-morrow, though the half be gone, Deafened and dazed, and hunted from their holes, Helpless and hunger-sick, but holding on. I shall be happy all the long day here, But not till night shall they go up the steep, And, nervous now because the end is near, Totter at last to quietness and to sleep.

And men who find it easier to forget, In England here, among the daffodils, That there in France are fields unflowered yet, And murderous May-days on the unlovely hills-- Let them go walking where the land is fair And watch the breaking of a morn in May, And think, "It may be Zero over there, But here is Peace"--and kneel awhile, and pray.

* * * * * "Surely one result of the war will be that civilised races will regard the German as an outcast unfit to associate with or to have dealings with on equal terms. If he is able to say 'tu grogue' we shall put ourselves in a false position."--_Times of India_.

For ourselves, we decline to do this. We shall simply call him another.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, May 14th_.--No longer will the FIRST SEA LORD be distracted from his primary duty of strafing the Hun by the necessity of looking after supplies. That function will now be discharged by an hon. and temp. Vice-Admiral, in the person of Sir ERIC GEDDES, late hon. and temp. Major-General and Director of Transportation to the Army in France, and now Shipbuilder-in-Chief to the nation. Everyone seemed pleased, with the notable exception of Mr. HOGGE, who cannot understand why all these appointments should be showered upon Sir ERIC GEDDES, when there are other able Scotsmen still unemployed. A late hon. Admiral of the Fleet, now residing at Potsdam, is believed to share Mr. HOGGE'S objections.

The hardships endured by the criminal classes when they are so unfortunate as to get into prison always strikes a sympathetic chord in the gentle breast of Mr. EDMUND HARVEY. His latest discovery is that they are allowed the use of writing-paper not more than once a month; and for the rest of the time have to entrust their literary compositions to the unsympathetic surface of a slate, with the aid of a probably squeaky slate-pencil. Could JOHN BUNYAN have written _The Pilgrim's Progress_ under such conditions? The question opens up a vista of speculation as to the influence of environment upon the creative faculty; and it is not surprising that Mr. BRACE was unable to answer it offhand.

In ordinary times the Financial Secretary of the Treasury is the most important Member of the Government outside the Cabinet. Under the present _régime_ he is not a member of the House at all. It is true that Mr. BALDWIN takes his place as Parliamentary whipping-boy to the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER with much grace and good humour; but that does not satisfy hon. Members, who want a more substantial object for their daily castigation. The debate on this subject revealed a sharp division of opinion between Mr. EDWIN MONTAGU and Mr. HERBERT SAMUEL. COUSIN EDWIN, as an ex-Secretary of the Treasury, did not think the House had suffered any serious loss through being unable to cross-examine that official direct. COUSIN HERBERT was shocked at this revolutionary sentiment coming from his kinsman. If it were accepted there was no logical reason why even the Chancellor of the Exchequer should have a seat in the House. Why, indeed, have Ministers at all? A row of gramophones, ranged along the Treasury Bench and supplied with officially prepared records, would satisfy all legitimate curiosity.

_Tuesday, May 15th_.--I forget how many weeks ago it is since Mr. BONAR LAW announced that the Government were going to make one more effort to settle the Irish Question, and that in due course the PRIME MINISTER would announce their proposals. Since then events have conspired to produce successive postponements. Mr. LLOYD GEORGE had to go to France--for the War refuses to stop even though Irishmen decline to encourage it--Mr. REDMOND fell ill, Archbishop WALSH indited a postscript, and an election in South Longford suggested doubts as to whether Nationalist M.P.'s were really the Irish nation after all. Nevertheless there is a plan; and it is to be communicated, but in the first instance to the leaders of Irish parties only, and then, if they please, to the Press, and finally, perhaps, to the House of Commons.

_Wednesday, May 16th_.--We all want to help the new Russian Government in its difficult task, but I doubt if Mr. SNOWDEN and his pacifist friends have contributed to that end by inviting the House of Commons to endorse forthwith the "no annexation, no indemnities" declaration of a section of the Revolutionaries, and by supporting their proposal in a series of speeches which might be summed up in the words "Peace at any Price." Even the German CHANCELLOR will not be wholly pleased, for the debate revealed that, apart from the seven or eight gentlemen who follow the white flag of the Member for Blackburn, the House is absolutely fixed in its determination to defeat German militarism before talking of peace.

After the searching analysis to which the hon. Member's confident statements were subjected by Lord ROBERT CECIL and Mr. A.F. WHYTE there was nothing left of them but a trace of acid.

So far as I am aware the Member for Blackburn has never endangered the integrity of his principles by helping his country in any way to win the War. In this respect Mr. LEES SMITH, who seconded the motion, has a less consistent record, for he has worn khaki as an orderly of the R.A.M.C. But in his case service abroad seems only to have confirmed his peculiar principles, for he thinks that we ought to return the German colonies, and enable the natives to enjoy once again the blessings of _Kultur_. If he ever saw the Hun while he was in France it must have been through a pair of rose-tinted binoculars.

_Thursday, May 17th_.--We are all agog to know whether the PRIME MINISTER'S offer of immediate Home Rule to twenty-six Counties of Ireland is to be blessed or banned by the Nationalists. This is the day when Irish Questions have priority, and the House hears such important inquiries as whether Hibernian holiday-makers will have their excursion-trains restored to them; what became of a side of bacon captured by the police during the Easter Monday rebellion, and why a certain magistrate should have been struck off the Commission of the Peace for a trifling refusal to take the oath of allegiance. Are we to go without this entertainment in the future, or will Mr. REDMOND refuse to rob Westminster of its gaiety even for the sake of College Green?

If, as I ventured to suggest last week, the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER had laid in a stock of tobacco before the Budget he has evidently exhausted it by now, for, on his attention again being called to the exorbitant charge of the tobacconists, he no longer pooh-poohed the matter, but sternly declared that the situation was being closely watched.

* * * * *

COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.

"The Car that never fails to give anything but satisfaction to its owners."--_Advertisement in "Indian Motor News."_

* * * * *

* * * * *

MY AMERICAN COUSINS.

Because they speak the tongue that's mine, Rich in the treasure that belongs To them as well as me, and twine Their heart-strings in our English songs, I knew they'd scorn those German threats And sham regrets.

Because their country's name is scrolled With Liberty's; because her fate, Like England's own, must be unrolled In Freedom still, they had to hate The thought of bowing down before A Lord of War.

And now they'll lavish in the strife The gold they've scorned to love too well, And fleets to bring the food that's life, And guns of death, and steel and shell; Defeat or triumph, stand or fall, They'll share their all.

They're out for business; now's their Day; They took their time, but finished right; The heat got slowly comes to stay; Patient for peace means firm in fight; And so their country still shall be Land of the Free.

* * * * *

"Remarkable scenes were witnessed at Exeter yesterday at the free distribution of 10,000 lbs. of potatoes in 5 lb. lots. Five thousand people obtained 5 lbs. each."--_Sunday Paper_.

This result was obtained by the forethought of the distributors, who had the potatoes laid out on multiplication tables.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE DOLLS THAT DID THEIR BIT.

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?"_ asked Jeanne, holding out her basket towards the first of her dolls seated in a semi-circle before her. Most of them were quite familiar with the game, but for the sake of a new-comer Jeanne had explained that each player must place in the basket some object the name of which ended with _on_, to rhyme with _corbillon_. She had announced that this time the game was in aid of a cause, and that therefore it must be played with _things_ and not with words only.

"Qu'y met-on, Marie?" repeated Jeanne. "Rappelez-vous bien que c'est une quête à l'intention des petites filles polonaises internées au camp de Havelberg!" What, Marie had nothing but her chain necklace, and that did not end in _on?_ No, but the links of the chain did, argued Jeanne. "Donne _des chaînons!_" she prompted in a whisper. "J'y mets des chaînons," said Marie in Jeanne's thinnest voice, and the necklace found its way into the basket.

"_Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?_ À vous, Marthe. Ô," exclaimed Jeanne, "tu y mets ton _chignon?_ Eh bien, tu sais, n'est-ce pas, bêta, qu'il faut que tu t'y mettes avec!" and into the basket she went after a lingering caress from Jeanne.

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?"_ It was the turn now of Yvonne in her bed. "Comment," said Jeanne, affecting indignation, "si tu n'étais pas si frileuse tu donnerais ton édredon?" And what about the little _poupées polonaises internées_, snatched from their beds and carried off without any bedclothes at all, let alone an eiderdown! Presently, "J'y mets mon édredon," Yvonne was understood to say, and "Sage!" approved Jeanne.

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?_ Jacques, mon pauvre ami, tu n'as pas de chance, hein?" There was no help for it; it was the only thing he had that rhymed. "Imagine la joie des petites polonaises internées!" she urged, taking the necessary action. "J'y mets mon pantalon," piped a disconsolate little thread of voice.

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?_ A vous, Mikadesse!" A beam of pleasure, succeeded by a falling of the countenance, then a look of decision, ended in a "Houp-là!" as the Japanese doll descended into the basket, and was made to say, "J'y mets une poupée du Japon!" After all she was an ally of the little polonaises.

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?_ Allons, les jumeaux! à vous!" Jeanne thought the twins were really in a plight and that she would have to help them out with a gift, but, quick as thought, Castor seized Pollux, saying, "J'y mets mon compagnon!" and Pollux, divining his intention, grasped Castor, declaring excitedly, "Et moi aussi, j'y mets mon compagnon" And into the basket they leapt together. "Ils s'entêtent à rester inséparables," sighed Jeanne; "c'est bien."

_"Je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?"_ Adélaïde never had possessed anything worth giving away, and yet she seemed to be suggesting that the contents of the basket did not look very imposing so far, and would hardly be enough to go round among so many little Poles, so Jeanne came to the rescue with gifts of toys until "J'y mets ma contribution!" came jubilantly forth in a voice that forgot to be Adélaïde's.

All had now contributed. Yet Jeanne had a feeling that somehow it was not the end of the game. She pondered gravely for a few moments, then, placing herself solemnly before the mirror, she addressed herself:--

_"Jeanne, je vous tends mon corbillon: qu'y met-on?"_ After a few seconds she began to see what she ought to do.

"Qu'y mets-tu, Jeanne?" It would be rather hard, but she must do it.

Sitting down and turning up the skirt of her frock, she took each of the contributors, kissed and caressed them, and placed them in her lap. Adélaïde only did she except, explaining to the others, "Oui, mes chéris, je garde Adélaïde, car savez-vous bien, c'est elle qui me donne des idées; je prends toujours conseil avec elle. Alors, n'est ce pas?" Then, carrying the dolls in her petticoat, she solemnly undid the button, let it slip down with the dolls inside, and placed it resolutely in the basket, saying: "J'y mets mon jupon!"

What was Adélaïde saying? One must give cheerfully and not regret the gift? _Surtout il ne faut pas verser une larme!_

So, hugging her doll, Jeanne returned to the mirror and added, smiling, "Avec sa-tis-fac-ti-on!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

"Prospects in English Literature. III.--Looking Backward."--_The Athenæum_.

We trust this is only preliminary to a further advance.

* * * * *

"Shepherds in Scotland are feeding lambs with whisky and hot milk. Many titled landed proprietors are acting as shepherds."--_Daily News_.

Surely our Radical contemporary does not mean to suggest--

* * * * *

FAIRIES.