Chapter 2

"It is obvious that he is still labouring under the hallucination that the War was a duel between him and the KAISER; that he 'downed' his antagonist single-handed, and that the prospects of a stable peace have been shattered by my failure to include him among the British Peace Delegates. So, all in a moment, the 'Welsh Wizard' is converted into the miserable creature of the Tory Junkers--a man without 'high moral courage,' 'wide knowledge' or 'large ideas.'

"Personally I have no illusions about my consistency, but I _do_ think that here I displayed some moral courage, also some unselfish consideration for CLEMENCEAU and WILSON and others. Just think of the panegyrics that would have been showered upon my head in the Press which he controls if he had been invited to the Table!

"But with all deductions he is a man to be reckoned with, if not counted upon. He is a man of large type--almost of "Pica" type. And sometimes he deviates into sound and just criticism; as for example when he says that I 'depend greatly, upon others.' It is true. What is more, I know on whom I can depend; and I have learnt that his support can only be secured on terms which would reduce the PREMIER to the level of one of his minor editors."

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARE WILL BE PLEASED.

"CZECHO-SLOVAK REPUBLIC. PROBLEM OF OUTLET TO SEA. Port at Prague or Dantzig."

--_Scottish Paper_.

"... Our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia."

_The Winter's Tale, III_. 3.

* * * * *

"At the Dogger Bank fight, Lion, the flagship of Sir David Beatty, was crippled. Some people say she was torpedoed, almost miraculously, by a Hun destroyer from five miles' range (which version is probably tripe)."--_Scottish Paper_.

Like so many things that we read in the Press nowadays.

* * * * *

_NOUVELLES DE PARIS._

(_WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO THE "SOCIETY" PRESS_).

_Paris, Feb., 1919._

Dearest POPPY,--_Que la vie est drôle!_ Who was it said that there are two great tragedies in life--not getting what you want, and getting it? I never understood that saying until now. For instance, when I left London most people I knew seemed to have a feverish desire to get to Paris. They were ready to move heaven, earth and the Ministry of Information to obtain the desired passport. They would go to any lengths to prove how necessary their presence is here during the Peace Conference.

And now I find my countrymen over here longing with an equal feverishness to go home again. _Ils s'attristent. Ils s'ennuient._ They have _nostalgie_ in its acutest form. It quite goes to my heart to hear the pathetic questions they put to newcomers: "How is London looking? What shows are running now?" And they go on to speak of dear dirty dark London, its beloved fogs, how adorable is the atrocious climate of England, in a way that would bring tears to your eyes. Why _don't_ they go back? you ask, _ma chère_. It's just because they want to be "in at the death" and say they were here when _la paix était signée_.

So these poor exiles continue to sacrifice themselves and drift aimlessly about Paris, making it so full that there's scarcely room for people like myself--who really _are_ on important work here--to breathe.

Imagine! I met Eleanor Dashgood on the Boulevard Haussmann to-day, descending from her car with her two poms yapping at her heels, just as if she were _chez elle_. I really felt like saying something pointed; but, after all, my only comment was, "My dear, what a _strange_ lot of people one meets in Paris nowadays!"

"Yes, dearest," she said, "that just occurred to me, too." I'm wondering now what the creature meant. Believe me, my dear, that woman has illegally wangled a passport out of the authorities by representing herself as her husband's typist--he's got a diplomatic passport, you know. I inquired if the maid she had brought with her had turned into a typist, too, to say nothing of the poms. The _toupet_ of some people!

And, of course, all this unnecessary rabble is helping to make everything _horriblement cher_. The price of things makes one's hair stand on end like the quills of the fretful porcupine. I can assure you that _le moindre petit dîner coûte les yeux de la tête_. Poor Bobbie Lacklands had a _tragic_ experience yesterday. He said he quite unthinkingly dropped into that most _recherché_ of eating places, Fouquet's, for a snack. With only a modest balance at the bank he ordered a sardine. Then he called for a _filet mignon_ and half-a-pint of _vin rouge_--he was always a reckless spendthrift sort of boy, you know. A cup of _café noir_ and an apple completed his financial ruin.

But he still declares that they were most awfully decent to him about it. They agreed, with scarcely any trouble, to take all the notes and loose silver he had with him on account. They accepted his securities and are now allowing him to pay off the balance gradually.

Paris is beginning to think of dress once more, or I ought to say undress, for with the skirts short and the sleeves short and the bodice low there isn't _very_ much left to write about. I hope these short tight skirts will reach the ankles before they reach England, for I notice the people who have the courage to wear them generally lack the excuse of symmetry.

_Figurez-vous!_ Jenny Bounceley, who considers herself quite a _Parisienne_ now she's got her official _carte d'alimentation_, appeared the other day in a skirt that resembled the _jupe_ of a _gamine_. I think it's disgraceful in one of her age and proportions. If she were simply knock-kneed; but, as Bertie says, she's knock-ankled as well.

_Votre bien dévouée_,

ANNE.

* * * * *

"RUMANIA. REDIDIVUS."

_East African Standard_.

To judge from the rumours of revolution, this false concord is only too apt.

* * * * *

"Music was supplied and enjoyed by a local orchestra."--_Provincial Paper_.

This phenomenon has frequently been observed; the audience meanwhile continuing its conversation.

* * * * *

"Colonel Sir Rhys Williams, who wore his khaki uniform, moved the Address in reply to the Speech from the Throne....

It was not the glamour of war, Mr. Rhys Williams continued...."--_Evening Standard_.

It is refreshing to come across a case of really rapid demobilisation.

* * * * *

"A message from Vienna states that the Emperor Carl intends to be a candidate in the forthcoming elections for the Australian National Assembly."--_Australian Paper_.

But there is no truth in the rumour that, by way of reprisal, Mr. HUGHES intends to put in for CARL's vacant throne.

* * * * *

RIME FAIRIES.

Last night about the country-side The nimble fairies flew, And forests on the latticed pane In quaint devices drew, The grasses standing straight and tall, The ferns with curious frond, And just a peephole left to show The misty world beyond.

The voices of the murmuring streams They silenced one by one, And bound their feet with gleaming chains So they no more could run; They hung the icicles about, And you would laugh to see Just how they flung the diamonds down Upon the whole bare tree; And every little blade of grass A thing of beauty stood, And when they'd finished it was just Like an enchanted wood.

They paused beside the old barn door; A spider's web hung there As fragile as a little dream, As delicate and fair; They decked it with a thousand gems Of oh! such dazzling sheen, It was the very loveliest thing That you have ever seen!

The sun from his soft bed of cloud Came pale and timidly; He knew if he let loose his rays The mischief there would be; He woke the sleeping world to life With finger-tips of gold, And up from meadow, wood and stream The shimmering mists unrolled; He lit the candles of the dawn On every bush and tree; The fairies on their homing wings Looked back and laughed with glee, "We've made a Fairyland for you, O Mortals, wake and see."

* * * * *

"It is also extremely likely that the Democrats have induced a considerable number of former Centre voters in South Germany to join them."--_Christian World_.

"Democrats" would seem to be the German equivalent of "Home Rulers."

* * * * *

Extract from a recent novel:--

"She wore under it a white blouse of thin stuff, snowy white ... the big floppy sleeves gently bellowed in the slight breeze."

It sounds rather a loud dress. Possibly _le dernier cri_.

* * * * *

"It is like a red rag to a bull to the 'bus drivers to see those lorries running about picking up members of the public.

We are trying to keep our heads, but our shoulders are bending under the pressure, and presently, I am afraid, we shall collapse and find ourselves in the vortex."--_Daily Paper_.

We should like to see this situation illustrated. Would some Vorticist oblige?

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

LITERARY OPTIONS.

In these days of ever-increasing strikes it is suggested, for the convenience of contributors to those magazines which of necessity go to press some time in advance, that they should submit to editors stories with interchangable situations:--

Algernon Aimless rose { lazily } from the breakfast-table { hastily}

at { 9 A.M. } on a dark winter's morning { in order { 7 A.M. } { in preparation

{ to catch the 9.15 to his office in the City. } { for his four-mile trudge to the City (Tube strike). }

The { electric lights gleamed with dazzling brilliance } { solitary candle shed a dismal light (Electricians' strike) }

on the { well-polished } china, silver and table cutlery { neglected }

which { were the joy and pride of the admirable parlourmaid. } { no servants' hands had touched for weeks (Domestic servants' strike). }

{ had glanced casually at his letters. } { had had no letters to read (Postmen's strike). }

As he stood in the { spotlessly kept and charming } hall, { dusty discomfort of the dark }

arranging his { sleek well-brushed brown hair } { long untidy hair (Barbers' strike) } before

putting on his hat, Ermyntrude Aimless { glided } { bounced }

{ gracefully down the staircase, clad in a charming { breathlessly up from the basement, wearing an old

{ _négligée_ of satin and lace. } { over-all above her dressing-gown. }

{ "A handkerchief, dearest," she murmured. "I was afraid { "Your sandwiches, old thing," she gasped. "I believe

you'd forgotten { to take one;" } and she held out in her { about 'em;" }

{ white delicately--manicured hand a silk handkerchief { none-too-clean hand an untidy brown-paper parcel which

{ of palest mauve, exquisitely scented. } { contained his luncheon (Restaurant strike). }

NOTE TO INTENDING AUTHORS.--This is not supposed to be a complete story, but just gives you the idea.

* * * * *

AT PARIS PLAGE.

Oft have I begged the high gods for a boon, That they would bear me from the Flanders slosh Back to a desert _not_ made by the Bosch, The sunny Egypt that I left too soon. O silvery nights beneath an Eastern moon! O shirt-sleeved days! O small infrequent wash! O once again to see the nigger "nosh" The camel, rudely grunting (out of tune)! Loudly I called; the high gods hearkened not Till came the signal and the big guns ceased; But then they brought me to this sea-kissed spot, Heeded my prayer and gave me back at least One of the pleasures that of old I knew, For here once more there's sand within the stew.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Tuesday, February 11th_.--The KING's Speech outlined a programme of legislation which would in the ordinary way occupy two or three Sessions. But the Parliamentary machinery is to be ruthlessly speeded up and "a short cut to the Millennium" is to be discovered by way of the Committee-rooms. Precisians observed with regret that the customary reference in the Speech to "economy" had by some oversight been omitted; and the prospective creation of several additional Departments led Lord CREWE to express apprehension lest the country should be "doped" with new Ministries, to the detriment of the national health.

"Where are they gone, the old familiar faces?" was the question one asked oneself on looking at the crowded benches of the House of Commons. It was said of a Past President of the United States that he was the politest man in America--"he gave up his seat in a street-car and made room for four ladies." The gap made on the Front Opposition Bench by the involuntary retirement of Mr. ASQUITH--to which generous allusion was made by the PRIME MINISTER--is so vast that the joint efforts of Sir DONALD MACLEAN and Mr. ADAMSON to fill it met with only partial success. Unless, by the way, Mr. SPEAKER definitely decides the problem of precedence, it is to be feared that the hoped-for acceleration of business will not occur, for at present each of them thinks it necessary to speak whenever the other does, like the hungry lions on Afric's burning shore. For all their outward politeness I am sure "the first lion thinks the last a bore"; and if they insist on roaring together much longer the House will think it of both of them.

The corner-seat whence Mr. PRINGLE flung his barbed darts at the Government is filled, physically, by Mr. STANTON. Lonely Mr. HOGGE now sits uneasily upon the Front Opposition Bench, but, fearing perhaps lest its dignified traditions should cramp his style, makes frequent visits to the Lobby.

In accordance with ancient custom Sir COURTENAY ILBERT asserted the right of the House to initiate legislation by calling out "Outlawries Bill" in the middle of the SPEAKER's recital of the Sessional Orders. Some of the new Members, I fancy, took the interruption seriously, and thought that this was the outcome of the "Punish the KAISER." movement.

The Mover and Seconder of the Address fully deserved the customary compliments. Col. Sir RHYS WILLIAMS' quiet and effective style explained his success as a picker-up of recruits; while Lt.-Commander DEAN, V.C., though he faced the House with much more trepidation than he did the batteries of Zeebrugge, got well home at the finish.

The lot of a Labour leader just now is not a happy one. Perhaps that accounted for the querulous tone assumed by Mr. ADAMSON, who seemed more concerned with the omissions in the KING's Speech than with its contents. His best sayings were imported from America, but he would have done better to content himself with LINCOLN and abjure BRYAN, whose "cross-of-gold" fustian will not bear repetition.

After Sir DONALD MACLEAN had thoughtfully provided a welcome tea interval the PRIME MINISTER rose to reply to his critics. The accusation that he had forgotten some of his recent promises, such as "No Conscription," "Punish the Kaiser," and "Germany must pay," did not trouble him much. If these election-eggs had hatched out prematurely and the contents were coming home to roost at an inconvenient moment he had no time to attend to them. What the country most needs at the moment is a firm clear statement on the Labour troubles, and that is what it got. So far as those troubles are due to remediable causes they shall be remedied; so far as the demands of Labour are based upon class-greed they shall be fought tooth and nail. There were a few dissentient shouts from the Opposition Benches, but the House as a whole was delighted when the PREMIER in ringing tones declared that "no section, however powerful, will be allowed to hold up the whole nation."

_Wednesday, February 12th_.--The Lords had a brisk little debate on agriculture. Lord LINCOLNSHIRE paid many compliments to Lord ERNLE for what he had accomplished as Mr. PROTHERO, but could not understand why, having exchanged the green benches for the red, he should have reversed his old policy, "scrapped" the agricultural committees and begun to dispose of his tractors. Lord ERNLE, in the measured tones so suitable to the Upper House, made a good defence of the change. The chief thing wanted now was to "clean the land," where noxious weeds, the Bolshevists of the soil, had been spreading with great rapidity. As for the tractors, the Board thought it a good thing that the farmers should possess their own, but would retain in its own hands enough of them to help farmers who could not help themselves--not a large class, I imagine, with produce at its present prices.

In the Commons an hour was spent in discussing the Government's now customary motion to take all the time of the House. Up got Mr. ADAMSON, to denounce it, now the War was over, as sheer Kaiserism. Up got Sir DONALD MACLEAN to defend it as commonsense, though he induced Mr. BONAR LAW to limit its duration to the end of March. Colonel WEDGWOOD pleaded that private Members might still be allowed to bring in Bills under the Ten Minutes' Rule; but that Parliamentary pundit, Sir F. BANBURY, asserted that there was no such thing in reality as the Ten Minutes' Rule, and pictured the possibility of whole days being swallowed up by a succession of private Members commending their legislative bantlings one after another with the brief explanatory statement permitted on such occasions. Alarmed at the prospect Mr. LAW decided not to admit the thin end of the WEDGWOOD.

The debate on the Address was resumed by Mr. BOTTOMLEY, who had a large audience. During his previous membership, terminated by one of those periodical visits to the Law Courts to which he made humorous reference, he delivered some capital speeches; and it was pleasant to find that the necessity of constantly producing "another powerful article next week" has not caused him to lose his oratorical form. His gestures are slightly reminiscent of the action of the common pump-handle, but his voice is excellent, and his matter has the merit of exactly resembling what our old friend "the Man in the Street" would say in less Parliamentary language, He has no hesitations, for example, on the subject of making Germany pay. By one of those rapid financial calculations for which he is renowned he has arrived at the comfortable figure of ten thousand millions sterling as Britain's little bill; and if you express doubts as to the debtor's capacity to pay he replies that he cannot recall any judge who made an order against him ever prefacing his judgment with an inquiry whether it would be convenient for him to find the money.

Payment in kind is Mr. RONALD McNEILL's prescription. Let Leipzig library replenish the empty shelves of Louvain and the windows of Cologne make good--so far as German glass can do it--the shattered glories of Rheims.

Mr. CLYNES warned the Government against neglecting the legitimate aspirations of Labour, one of which, he had the courage to affirm, was access to more and better beer. He also sought a clear statement of the Government's policy in Russia. This request was repeated by Sir SAMUEL HOARE, who, having spent a year and a half during the War in that distracted country, declared that "we must decide between Bolshevists and anti-Bolshevists." Unfortunately that is exactly what, according to the PRIME MINISTER's reply, we cannot do. The Allies are not prepared to intervene in force; they cannot leave Russia to stew in Her own hell-broth. The proposed Conference is admittedly a _pis-aller_; and, if it ever meets, no one can feel very hopeful of a tangible result from the deliberations of the Prinkipotentiaries.

_Thursday, February 13th_.--Labour unrest produced a capital debate, in which Mr. BRACE, Mr. THOMAS and Mr. SEXTON made excellent speeches on the one side, and Major TRYON, Mr. REMER (an employer and a profit-sharer) and Mr. BONAR LAW were equally effective on the other. Brushing aside minor causes the Leader of the House, in his forthright manner, said the root of the matter was that "Labour wants a larger share of the good things which are to be obtained in this world"--not an unreasonable desire, he indicated, but one which would not be permanently realised by strikes directed against the whole community. Mr. SEDDON, of the National Democratic Party, compressed the same argument into an epigram. If the miners' full demands were conceded they would have "an El Dorado for one minute and disaster the next."

* * * * *

FROST AND THAW.

I was earlier than usual that morning, which was bad luck, as I heard Fitz-Jones click his gate behind me and thud after me in his snow-boots. Fitz-Jones and I had a little disagreement, not long ago, about the sole possession of a servant-maid. Since then there has been a coolness. Curiously enough, the hideous frost that raged at the moment (the thermometer stood at twenty-five degrees in the henhouse) seemed to thaw Fitz-Jones. And I knew why.

Last summer Fitz-Jones had spent four torrid days with the thermometer at 75 degrees, winding up his pipes in straw "against" the winter. I had seen his purple face as I hammocked it with an iced drink. He had seen and heard me laugh.

"Ah," he croaked, "you may laugh on the other side of the hedge now, but you'll laugh on the other side of your face later."

So now I knew that he was thudding after me in the snow, bursting to hear that my pipes had burst or were about to burst.

"Hallo, Browne," he began, "how'd you like this?"

"Oh, all right," I said airily. Here I did a wonderful step. Slide on the right heel--hesitation shuffle on the left toe--two half slips sideways. Wave both arms--backward bend. Recover. Jazz--tangle--tickle-toe was nothing to it.

"Slippery, isn't it?" he said. "My flannel was frozen to the wash-stand to-day--had to get it off with a chisel."

I was prepared for these travellers' tales. I knew he was leading up to water-pipes.

"Couldn't get my cold tub," he went on; "frozen solid overnight."

I had heard of this cold tub before. "My tooth-brush froze on to my teeth," I capped him; "the teapot spout was hung with icicles, and the cat's tongue froze on to the milk when it was drinking."

"How about your pipes?" he began, "Who was right about wrapping?"

"Rapping," I said in well-feigned innocence--"rapping? Who rapped? Rapped on what?"

That set him going.

I gathered when we reached the station there was a strike on. But we found a milk-lorry travelling our way. So Smith had the entire use of my right ear into which to say, "I told you so," for an hour, while we travelled to the spot on which we win our bread. He had dragged from me the fact that our hot-water tap had also struck. The milk cans clattered. Smith chattered. So did my teeth.

When I got home that night our house seemed to be more handsomely garnished with icicles than any other house I had seen that day.