Chapter 2

The men are marching like the best; The waggons wind across the lea; At ten to two we have a rest, We have a rest at ten to three; I ride ahead upon my gee And try to look serene and gay; The whole battalion follows me, _And I believe I've lost the way._

Full many a high-class thoroughfare My erring map does not disclose, While roads that are not really there The same elaborately shows; And whether this is one of those It needs a clever man to say; I am not clever, I suppose, _And I believe I've lost the way._

The soldiers sing about their beer; The wretched road goes on and on; There ought to be a turning here, But if there was the thing has gone; Like some depressed automaton I ask at each _estaminet_; They say, "_Tout droit_," and I say "_Bon_," _But I believe I've lost the way._

I dare not tell the trustful men; They think me wonderful and wise; But where will be the legend when They get a shock of such a size? And what about our brave Allies? They wanted us to fight to-day; We were to be a big surprise-- _And I believe I've lost the way._

* * * * *

The Dawn of Peace?

"The Commissioners of H.M. Works, &c., are prepared to receive tenders for the supply of:

(a) Floor polish during a period of six or 12 months from 1st August, 1917.

(b) Arm chairs."--_Daily Telegraph_.

* * * * *

From an interview with an eminent playwright regarding a new farce:--

"Has my face a war object? Certainly it has, a very definite though an indirect one."--_Liverpool Echo_.

If it hadn't been so old a joke, we should have guessed that the author has a strong cast in his eye.

* * * * *

"A Chaplain Wanted, for private chapel in the Highlands. There is plenty of stalking for a good shot, also there is fishing, shooting, and golf. A chaplain is wanted who can drive a motor-car. Terms £1, travelling expenses are paid, and there are rooms provided."--_Daily Telegraph_.

Yet there are still people who write to the newspapers demanding "Liberty for the Church."

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

"SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT."

I, who before these lines appear (or don't) Must face the Board reviewing my diseases, Am fluttered, as the sentient soul is wont, Thinking how rum the case of me and these is; We'll come together--just because it pleases Some higher Pow'r--and then for ever part. Not having learnt each other's views on Art, Nor in our only chat got really heart to heart.

They'll sound _my_ heart, it's true, but in a way ... Perhaps they'll ask me if I've had enteric; But can I tell them that I've writ a play And have a nephew who is atmospheric? Or that my people meant me for a cleric (But Satan didn't)? or even that I shan't Be left much money by my maiden aunt?-- These are the human links that bind us, but I can't.

Nor can I hope to get behind the mask That shrouds from me their human cares and graces. "Is your name William?" I shall want to ask, And burn to know if this one bets on races, Or that one has a pretty taste in braces, Or if a third, who only says, "Just so," Beneath his tunic has a heart aglow With treasured words of praise dropped by his golfing pro.

We'll part, we'll part! Nor with a soulful cry Will one strong human citadel surrender. M.O.'s who dandle babes no less than I Will leave me cold; M.O.'s who have a tender Passion for my own type of sock-suspender Won't utter it. Though on my heaving breast They lean their heads, they'll lean them uncaressed; We'll part, nor overstep the auscultation test.

* * * * *

"AMERICA'S BLOCKADE.

By David G. Pinkney, the well-known chip-owner."--_Evening News_.

A chip of the old blockade.

* * * * *

"Businesses suitable for ex-soldiers: generals and others; taking £40 wkly, price £35. Call or stamp."--_The Daily Chronicle_.

We can almost hear our Generals stamping.

* * * * *

"It was an extremely difficult thing to effect a hit with anti-aircraft guns. A 'ricohetting' pheasant was nothing to it."--_The Globe_.

We take this remarkable bird to be a sort of bouncing "rocketer."

* * * * *

Extract from a testimonial sent to a patent-medicine vendor:--

"If you remember I came to you three days after I was bitten by my cat on the recommendation of a lady friend."--_Straits Times_.

We think it was cowardly of the lady to employ an agent.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, July 9th_.--With the sound of Saturday's bombs still in their ears Members came down to the House prepared to make things very uncomfortable for Ministers. Woe betide them if they could not explain satisfactorily, first, why the raiders had been able to get to London at all, and, secondly, why they had been allowed to depart almost unscathed. In this atmosphere the usual badinage of Question-time passed almost unnoticed. Mr. BALFOUR gave a neat summary of Germany's propagandist methods. "In Russia, where autocracy has been abolished, it declares that we are secretly fostering reaction; in Spain, where there is a constitutional monarchy, it proclaims that we are aiming at revolution. Both statements are untrue; both are absurd."

Not until Mr. BONAR LAW announced that the PRIME MINISTER would move the adjournment of the House and make in Secret Session a statement regarding the air-raid was the House really roused. At once a storm of "supplementaries" broke forth. Mr. P. BILLING, baulked of his prey--for private sittings are no use to orators of the flatulent variety--bounced up and down like a Jack-in-the-Box until the SPEAKER finally suppressed him with the words, "There must be a limit to this." The Member for East Herts is presumably "the limit" referred to.

Fortunately, perhaps, for the Government the Home Office Vote was the subject for discussion. This gave Members an opportunity for blowing off a lot of preliminary steam. At one moment an even more dangerous explosion was feared. Sir HENRY DALZIEL suddenly produced from his capacious coat-tails a shell which had fallen into his office during the raid. His neighbours crowded round to examine it, until his remark that it was "still unexploded" caused a slump in their curiosity. There was once a statesman who, to emphasize his argument, flung a dagger upon the floor of the House. For once the House was thankful that Sir HENRY DALZIEL bears no resemblance to BURKE.

To warn or not to warn: that was the question mainly agitating Members. The majority appeared to think that some system of sound-signals was desirable; others pointed out that many threatened raids proved abortive, and that sirens would interfere with business, as in the leading case of Ulysses. Thanks to the HOME SECRETARY'S conciliatory methods there was considerably less tension in the atmosphere when the time came for the PRIME MINISTER to make his statement. When air-raids are about there is nothing he finds handier than a comfortable and capacious CAVE.

_Tuesday, July 10th_.--The echoes of the air-raid had almost died away by this afternoon. When Mr. BILLING again tried to move the adjournment, the SPEAKER put him back in his box with so firm a hand that his spring may have been irretrievably injured. It is hoped that the National Service Department, which recently sent Mr. LOWTHER a notice informing him that he was about to be transferred to Wolverhampton as a labourer at 4s. 10d. a day, "on the ground that such employment is deemed to be of greater national importance than that on which he is at present engaged," will now consent to hold its hand.

When the House was about to go into Committee on the Corn Production Bill a strange thing happened. Before leaving the Chair the SPEAKER was proceeding to lop off a few excrescences in the way of Instructions that appeared on the Order-paper. Meanwhile the SERGEANT-AT-ARMS had advanced to the Table to remove the Mace. "Order, order!" exclaimed the SPEAKER, upon which Sir COLIN KEPPEL, much abashed to think that he, the guardian of order, should have been regarded as even potentially insubordinate, beat, for the first time in a gallant career, a hasty retreat.

The Government had to withstand a massed attack by the Free Traders, who even in war-time have not entirely shed their prejudices against subsidizing the farmer at the expense of the rest of the community, although the object of the subsidies is to ensure the rest of the community having enough to eat. Mr. RUNCIMAN and his colleagues had the temerity to take a division which ran very much upon the old party-lines; but on this occasion the Nationalists, in the interest of Irish farmers, were not "agin' the Government," but helped it to secure the comfortable majority of 84.

_Wednesday, July 11th_.--In the matter of the Mesopotamia Report a large section of the public and the Press is in the mood of _Sam Weller_, "Ain't nobody to be whopped?" Anxious to satisfy this demand and at the same time to do justice to the individuals arraigned, the Government proposes to set up a special tribunal under the Army (Courts of Inquiry) Act. That measure, passed to deal with the strange case of the Bashful Lieutenant and the Lively Lady, and now to be utilized for this considerably larger issue, appears to resemble the elephant's trunk in its singular adaptability. But there was a tendency in both Houses to regard the procedure as more ingenious than statesmanlike.

_Thursday, July 12th_.--The HOME SECRETARY announced that it had been decided to warn the public in future when an air-raid was actually imminent, and added that the exact method would be stated shortly. I am glad that he did not accept Sir FRANCIS LOWE'S proposal to set the telephone-bells ringing all over London. Think of the language which would proceed from a hundred thousand agitated subscribers, deceived into answering supposed "calls," when they ought to be making for their dug-outs.

The gist of a very long speech by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL was that the Press had mistaken the Mesopotamia Commission for a Hanging Committee, whereas it much more resembled a Fishing Expedition. But his new tribunal found little favour with the House, especially when it was discovered that it would have no power to try the civilians affected. One of them, Mr. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN, announced his resignation--much to the regret of Mr. BALFOUR, who has no intention of following his example or of allowing Lord HARDINGE to do so. In the end it was decided that there must be an entirely new tribunal, which can deal fairly--and, one hopes, finally--with both soldiers and civilians. But it is now even betting that the Mesopotamia laundry-work will outlast the duration of the War.

* * * * *

* * * * *

"Ex-P.C. and wife will take care of your residence during holidays or other period; p.c. will receive prompt attention."--_Sheffield Telegraph._

But what about p.c.'s wife?

* * * * *

"The bride's going-away dress was a silver cigarette case."--_Dover Telegraph_.

We don't like this new fashion for brides. It is too suggestive of "weeds."

* * * * *

"Ale and beer--Brew your own, 4½ gallons for 1s.; intoxicative; no malt; legal; two trade recipes, 1s."--_Cork Examiner_.

In England we do not require to brew this "intoxicative" with "no malt" for ourselves. Every public-house sells it.

* * * * *

SIRENS AND THEIR SUCCESSORS.

[A writer in an evening paper has been discussing the book that might be written on Sirens' Songs.]

What were the songs the Sirens sang Three thousand years ago or more, When their silvery voices rose and rang Over the ocean's wine-dark floor, And brought a strange perturbing pang To the heart of the wisest man of yore?

Music and words have passed away, But a modern rhymer is free to guess What lent such wizardry to their lay, What gave it glamour and tenderness, And lured the hardy seaman astray From the paths of duty and toil and stress.

They sang of the Zephyr's scented breeze, Of amber eve and star-strewn night, Of the moan of doves, the murmur of bees, Of water trickling from the height, And all that ministers to our ease And puts dull carking care to flight.

They sang of banquets in gorgeous halls, Of raiment tinct with saffron dyes; Of ivory towers and crystal walls And beauty in many a wondrous guise, And all that fascinates and enthralls The saint and the sinner, the fool and the wise.

Wily Ulysses at heart was sound-- At least he was quite a family man; He faced the fatal music, but found An antidote to the risks he ran, For he sealed the ears of his crew, and bound Himself to the mast ere the song began.

But the Siren who sang and slew is now The fable outworn of an age remote, And the women to whom to-day we bow Have long abjured her sinister note; She heals, she helps, she follows the plough, And her song has fairly earned her the vote.

* * * * *

WHAT THE KINGFISHER KNEW.

The wind ruffled the grey water of the stream under the old stone bridge.

"Ssshhh, ssshhh," whispered the young willows, "what will become of us? what will they make of us? Ssshhh, ssshhh." But no one replied, chiefly because no one knew, excepting the kingfisher, and he was away on a fishing expedition.

Then one day the woodcutters came and the sound of their axes rang out over the meadows by the quiet stream. A great many of the older willows were laid low that day, and the young trees bent and whispered among themselves, "Ssshhh, ssshhh, what will become of them? what will they make of them? Ssshhh, ssshhh." This time the kingfisher answered them, for he was just back from a fishing expedition.

"They will make them into cricket-bats," he said; "that is what willow-trees are used for." And he sat and preened his gay little body in the sun.

"Sss-shameful! Sss-shameful!" whispered the young willow-trees. "To cut and maim and carve us up just for men and boys to play with. Sss-shame! Sss-shame! If they only used us for tools to work with or for swords to fight with, we shouldn't mind; but just for sport! Sss-shame! Sss-shame!" And they trembled and whispered among themselves on the edge of the silver stream.

But although the kingfisher happened to have a very little body he had a very big mind, and he explained to the young willow-trees that, even if cricket might be only a game, yet it trained boys and men for the Battle of Life. But the willow-trees were young and of course they thought they knew best, so they went on whispering among themselves, "Sss-shame! sss-shame!"

After the War began the kingfisher used to bring back what news he could gather on his fishing expeditions. "They are cutting down the oaks in the lower spinney," he told them one day. "I expect they will be used for building ships." And he preened his little dazzling body in the sun.

"I wish they would use _us_ for building ships," whispered the willows. "I wish they would let _us_ die for our country. All our brave men and boys have gone to fight; they do not even need us for cricket-bats now," they sighed sadly. "I wish they were back and wanting us to play games with."

And then one day, when the young willow-trees had grown older and more wise, the woodmen came again to the quiet stream.

"What have they come for? What will they do with us?" whispered the willow-trees as they shivered and trembled on the reedy margin of the stream. The kingfisher was preening his small many-hued body in the sun.

"I'll find out," he said, and flashed away like a fragment of rainbow gone astray. Almost by the time the first stroke of the axe rang out over the sleeping meadows he was back again.

"You are going to die for your country," he told them. "They are using willows to make new limbs for our brave soldiers and sailors who have lost their own; they are using willows to make new limbs for our brave sailors and soldiers." Up and down the stream he darted, spreading the wonderful news; and so the willow-trees were comforted.

"Ssshhh, ssshhh," they whispered. "Ssshhh! ssshhh! for our brave solders and sailors, for our dear sailors and soldiers--ssshhh, ssshhh."

* * * * *

* * * * *

COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.

"Electric hoist for passenger or goods; to lift 10cwt.; little use."--_Manchester Paper_.

* * * * *

"CHINESE CRISIS.

DISTRUST OF THE ICE-PRESIDENT."--_Times and Mirror (Bristol)_.

Yet one would have thought him the very man to preserve his coolness.

* * * * *

"HAIR REPORTS PROGRESS.

G.H.Q., Tuesday, 11.46 a.m."--_Star_.

It is hoped now that the British _communiqués_ will be a little less bald.

* * * * *

THE BOAT.

A STUDY IN INDIFFERENCE.

One likes to think of oneself as a person of some importance, whose vital spark, even in these days when life is so cheap, ought to be guarded with solicitude. Indeed, to adapt CLOUGH'S phrase, one wants other people--and especially those whose prosperity is dependent upon us--officiously to keep us alive.

This being my not unnatural attitude, you will understand what a shock I had when the owner of the boat, who would expire of starvation if his boats were not hired, treated me as he has done.

The boat in question was needed for an estuary or bay in which sailing is permitted. Since we had decided to take a holiday on the shores of this water it seemed well to secure something to navigate; and as I detest rowing it had to be something with sails, petrol being too scarce. The hotel people sent me the name of a man who had sailing-boats for hire. I corresponded with him, fixed up the price (an exorbitant one), and arranged for the boat to be ready on Monday afternoon.

On Monday afternoon it had not arrived. There was the sea; there was the little pier; there were plenty of rowing-boats, but my vessel was--where?

After breakfast the next day there was still no boat, but word came that its owner had called and would I see him?

"About the boat," he began.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"She's moored just round the point there," he said.

"Why isn't she here?" I asked, adopting his pronoun. I had forgotten for the moment that boats belong to the now enfranchised sex.

"Did you want her so soon?" he replied.

"It was all arranged for her to be here yesterday afternoon," I said. "I have your letter about it."

"Oh, well, she'll be here directly," he answered.

"I should have preferred you to keep your word," I said stiffly.

He made no reply.

"Send for her at once," I said. It was now half-past ten. "I want to go out this morning;" and he agreed.

The boat arrived at a little after three--an open boat with a mast. No deck; nowhere to be comfortable, as the boom swung almost level with the bulwarks. There was a foot of water in her.

Her owner arrived while I was noting these things.

He looked at her with pride. "She's a good boat," he said. "She used to be a lifeboat, with tanks in her to keep her buoyant, but I took them out."

"I was expecting one with a deck," I said.

"Deck? Who wants a deck?" he answered. "She's all right. You must keep baling, that's all. She would, be all the better for some white-lead and paint."

"Why not give them to her?" I asked.

He pointed to an island about a mile distant and a headland half a mile across the bay. "Keep within those two spots," he said, "and you'll be all right. It's not safe to take her beyond. There might be squalls."

"Rather limited," I suggested.

"There's grand water in between," he said. "Deep too in places. Nine fathoms."

"Where's the man to sail her?" I asked.

"The man?" he replied. "Aren't you going to sail her yourself? Your letter said nothing about a man."

"Good heavens!" I said, "you surely wouldn't let a total stranger try to sail a boat here among all these unknown rocks and currents?"

From his manner it was plain that he would, cheerfully.

"Well, I've no man to spare," he said at last. "But there's a boy in the village who could come. He's not right in his head quite, but he'll be handy."

"Does he know the channels?" I asked.

"No, I wouldn't say he knew the channels," he replied, "but he'll be handy."

"Have you any life-belts?" I asked.

"There were some," he said, "but they've gone."

"You're not very encouraging," I remarked. "Surely you don't want people drowned in your boats? It wouldn't do the village or the hotel any good."

"No, I suppose not," he assented thoughtfully; "but no one's going to be drowned. No one ever has been drowned in that boat since I've had her." He laughed a hearty laugh. "So that's all right," he added, and was gone.

I now know what an invalid feels like who, after a few weeks in (so to speak) cotton-wool, is deposited on the doorstep in the sleet.

* * * * *

* * * * *

"Consequently, if Austria wants to save her twin-broth Hungary from a crushing defeat she must take her armies from Lemberg in a round-about way through most inconvenient mountain passes."

Judging by this account the Central Powers seem to be in the soup.

* * * * *

"To ascertain to what extent the children under their care have lost weight as a result of the war dietary, the Henley-on-Thames Guardians have decided to have them weighed periodically. At a certain boarding school all the boys were found to have lost weight--in some cases to the extent of 111lb--under the new food régime."--_Manchester Guardian_.

What did these young giants weigh before the War?

* * * * *

"Dr. A---- is the gifted author of his old Vicar, the late Dr. Bickersteth, who afterwards, became Bishop of Exeter. He is also a son-in-law of the late Bishop."--_Church Paper_.

And apparently (by marriage) his own grandfather.

* * * * *

THE VOTE.

"And now," I said, "that you've got your dear vote, what are you going to do with it?"

"If," said Francesca, "you'll promise to treat it as strictly confidential I'll tell you."