Chapter 2

The dangerous voyage at length is o'er And she has crossed the oilcloth floor And grounded on the woolly mat, The wooded slopes of Ararat. Upon this lately flooded land It's very difficult to stand The animals in double row, When some have lost a leg or so; A book is best to carry those Who still feel sea-sick in their toes. For NOAH and his sons and wives This is the moment of their lives; They walk together up and down In stiff wide hat and dressing-gown, Well pleased to greet the dove once more, Who landed safe the day before.

You recollect that day of rain, Of drumming roof, of streaming pane, How, just before the hour of tea, A great light bathed the nursery; And you those tiresome tresses shook Back from your eyes and whispered, "Look!" The day-lost sun was sinking low, Filling the world with after-glow; We saw together, you and I, A rainbow right across the sky.

* * * * *

Though years divide us, old and grey, From childhood's distant yesterday; In spite of unbelieving Deans We still know what a rainbow means.

* * * * *

MUSICAL GOSSIP FROM THE GERMAN FRONT.

"For the last twenty years," writes M. JEAN-AUBRY, a distinguished French musical critic, "the temple of German music has been no longer at Bonn, or Weimar, or Munich, or Bayreuth, but at Essen. The modern German orchestra, with Strauss and Mahler, was concerned more with the preoccupations of artillery and the siege-train than with those of real music. It desired to become a rival of Krupp."

These remarks are borne out in a remarkable way by the latest news of STRAUSS. It has always been very difficult to obtain precise intelligence about his works, owing to his notorious aversion from publicity, and we accordingly give this information with all reserve, simply for what it is worth. It is to the effect that, while retaining the parts for three Minenwerfen in his new Battle Symphony, he has been obliged to re-score one movement in which four "Big Berthas" were prominently engaged, owing to the impossibility of securing any of these instruments since the Armistice. He has, however, with admirable resource substituted parts for four influenza microbes. There are no French horns in the score, but by way of showing a conciliatory spirit to the British army of occupation he has introduced in the _Finale_ an adaptation of a well-known patriotic song, which is marked on the margin, "_Die W.A.A.C. am Rhein_."

* * * * *

"HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS."

"Tablemaid (upper), elderly Countess; Scotland, England; good wage."--_Scotsman_.

* * * * *

"ANGLING.

"LOCH TAY.--KILLIN.--Mr. C.B. ----, London, had on Beans and pease quiet and unchanged. Feeding offals 17th one salmon, 27 lb."--_Scotsman_.

But are these lures quite sportsmanlike?

* * * * *

From a "table of contents":--

"SPECIAL ARTICLES.

"The German 'Soul'--To Rise Like a Phoenix ... 10 Rats ........................................ 10"

_Glasgow Herald_.

Agreed; or, as they say in the House of Lords, "the Contents have it."

* * * * *

KISMET.

Those old comrades, Sergeant Kippy and Gunner Toady, stood on the steps of the Convalescent Home and regarded the peaceful country-side which, in South Devon, is a sedative even in February.

Gunner Toady had come over for the day, and Kippy, as an inhabitant of the Home, had been exercising his prerogative of showing a guest over the estate. During the great advance which proved to be the expiring effort of the Hun, the Gunner had acquired a shortened leg, which still caused him to revolt against sustained physical exertion.

He leant upon his stick and listened while Kippy the indefatigable drew up a programme of a further tour to some outlying buildings.

"And you 'aven't seen the melin-'ouse," concluded that worthy, enthusiastically waving his remaining arm in the direction of a far shrubbery.

"Melin-'ouses in Febuary is lugoobrious," said the Gunner; "we'll remain at the chatoo."

Kippy sat down on the top step.

"Curious," he said, "to think there ain't no war on. Makes you feel idle. Remember that day at Coolomeers (Coulommiers), when we first got interdooced?" The Gunner nodded. "'Bout a thousand years ago that was, an' not 'alf a beano--'orse, foot and guns; no stinks, no blinkin' fireworks and old VON KLUCK gettin' 'ome pronto."

"Yes," his companion said slowly, as he lowered himself to sit beside Kippy, "that was September '14. I took my first knockout there, an' then clicked with you again in Southmead 'Ospital at Bristol."

"An'," Kippy took up the tale, "we come together agen at the end o' '15 in the old salient at Wipers, an' in '16 we was foregathered on the Somme. That's where I got my first dose of Fritz's gas. Put me in Blighty three months, that did; an' I won the ten-stone clock-golf putting championship of 'Ereford."

"Yes," said the Gunner ruminatively, "we've had to handle all sorts in this show; wy, I've played a game called Badminton with a real princess a-jumpin' about t'other side of the net. O' course it ain't discipline."

"Well," said Kippy, "I got two years' service before the War. That makes six an' a bit; and next month I shall 'ave my Mark 1919 patent arm complete with all the latest developments and get into civvies. Then what-o for a job o' paper-'anging."

Gunner Toady gave a slight start, but at once passed into a state of deep reflection. After a protracted pause he delivered his mature judgment. "'Course," he said slowly, "I believe in wot them Mahomets call Kismet. No gettin' away from it--"

"Oo's Kismet?" interrupted Kippy.

"It's me and you gettin' mixed up so intimate over 'arf o' France and the 'ole o' Flanders. Like two needles in a blinkin' 'aystack clickin' every time--an' 'taint as if the Gunners dossed down reglar with the Line either. An' now you talks about paper-'anging."

Gunner Toady paused impressively and continued, "Now you'd 'ardly believe it, but before I joined the reg'ment in '09 I was a master-plasterer workin' in Fulham."

"Lumme!" exclaimed Kippy, "wy, I was at Putney then, and I only 'eard the other day that there's a nice little _apray-lar-gur_ connection to be worked up at Walham Green. 'Ow about callin' ourselves 'Messrs. Toady and Kippy, Decorators'?'"

"That's what it means," said the senior partner. "It's Kismet right enough, and there ain't no gettin' away from it."

"And we might add," said Kippy, with a touch of inspiration--"we might add, 'Late Contractors to His Majesty's Goverment.'"

* * * * *

* * * * *

"Wanted, by middle-aged Lady, position of trust, Housekeeper, Companion, widower, lady, priest."--_Irish Paper_.

We suppose it is all right, but a hasty reader might well take it for another sex problem.

* * * * *

THE TWO VISITS, 1888, 1919.

("_DISPERSAL AREAS, 10A, 10B, 10C--CRYSTAL PALACE._")

It was, I think, in '88 That Luck or Providence or Fate Assumed the more material state Of Aunt (or Great-Aunt) Alice, And took (the weather being fine And Bill, the eldest, only nine) Three of us by the Brighton line To see the Crystal Palace.

Observe us, then, an eager four Advancing on the Western Door Or possibly the Northern, or-- Well, anyhow, advancing; Aunt Alice bending from the hips, And Bill in little runs and trips, And John with frequent hops and skips, While I was fairly dancing.

Aunt Alice pays; the turnstile clicks, And with the happy crowds we mix To gaze upon--well, I was six, Say, getting on for seven; And, looking back on it to-day, The memories have passed away-- I find that I can only say (Roughly) to gaze on heaven.

Heaven it was which came to pass Within those magic walls of glass (Though William, like a silly ass, Had lost my bag of bull's-eyes). The wonders of that wonder-hall! The--all the things I can't recall, And, dominating over all, The statues, more than full-size.

Adam and Niobe were there, DISRAELI much the worse for wear, Samson before he'd cut his hair, Lord BYRON and Apollo; A female group surrounded by A camel (though I don't know why)-- And all of them were ten feet high And all, I think, were hollow.

These gods looked down on us and smiled To see how utterly a child By simple things may be beguiled To happiness and laughter; It warmed their kindly hearts to see The joy of Bill and John and me From ten to lunch, from lunch to tea, From tea to six or after.

That evening, when the day was dead, They tucked a babe of six in bed, Arranged the pillows for his head, And saw the lights were shaded; Too sleepy for the Good-night kiss His only conscious thought was this: "No man shall ever taste the bliss That I this blesséd day did."

When one is six one cannot tell; And John, who at the Palace fell A victim to the Blondin Belle, Is wedded to another; And I, my intimates allow, Have lost the taste for bull's-eyes now, And baldness decorates the brow Of Bill, our elder brother.

Well, more than thirty years have passed.... But all the same on Thursday last My heart was beating just as fast Within that Hall of Wonder; My bliss was every bit as great As what it was in '88-- Impossible to look sedate Or keep my feelings under.

The gods of old still gazed upon The scene where, thirty years agone, The lines of Bill and me and John Were cast in pleasant places; And "Friends," I murmured, "what's the odds If you are rather battered gods? This is no time for Ichabods And _eheu_--er--_fugaces_."

Ah, no; I did not mourn the years' Fell work upon those poor old-dears, Nor PITT nor Venus drew my tears And set me slowly sobbing; I hailed them with a happy laugh And slapped old Samson on the calf, And asked a member of the staff For "Officers Demobbing."

That evening, being then dispersed, I swear (as I had sworn it first When three of us went on the burst With Aunt, or Great-Aunt, Alice), "Although one finds, as man or boy, A thousand pleasures to enjoy, For happiness without alloy Give me the Crystal Palace!" A.A.M.

* * * * *

COAL-DUST.

"Had a good day?" said Frederic cheerily, stamping the snow off his boots as I met him at the front-door.

"That depends," I said, "on what you call a good day."

"You haven't been dull?" said Frederic.

"Oh, no," I said, indicating the comforting blaze as I pushed Frederic's chair to the fire; "behold the result of my day's labours in your behalf. Your hot bath and hot breakfast, dear, were just camouflage to keep from you, the centre of gravity, our desperate straits. When I went to give Cook her orders this morning I found her as black as a sweep and in a mood to correspond. She pointed to a few lumps of coal in the kitchen scuttle and said, 'I've sifted all that dust in the cellar, Ma'am, and these are the only lumps I could find. There's only enough to cook one more dinner.'"

"My dear girl," said Frederic, "why wait till there is no coal before ordering more?"

"Hear me," I cried. "A fortnight ago I ordered some. The man asked, 'Have you _any_ coal?' I said I had a little. He said, 'You are lucky to have _any_. Dozens of people have no coal at all. I can promise nothing.'

"A week ago I went again. 'Have you _any_ coal?' he asked. 'Still a very little,' I said faintly. 'Hundreds of people,' he said, 'have no coal at all, I can promise you _nothing_.'

"'Well, after I had spent an hour this morning distributing whiffy oil-lamps all over the house, I went again to the coal merchant. He froze me with a look. 'When can you send in my coal?' I tried to say it jauntily, but my teeth chattered. 'Have you _no_ coal?' he said, and his frigid eye pierced me. 'O-o-only a little dust, which, has been at the bottom of the cellar for two years--drawing-room coal dust,' I added eagerly, 'which cannot be used on the kitchen fire.' 'You are lucky,' he said, 'to have that. There are thousands of people in this town with no coal at all. We can promise you nothing.'

"I came home, and after luncheon, donning my Red Cross uniform, I told Mary that if people called she could show them into the coal-cellar, where I should be; and, armed with a garden-fork, I proceeded thither and dug diligently for a whole hour. I know now exactly why a hen clucks when she has laid an egg. Every time I found a lump--and I found as many as six--I simply had to call Cook and Mary to come and see."

"What fun!" murmured Frederic comfortably.

"I venture to suggest, dear, that the thing is beyond a joke. When I next go to the coal-monger's I shall say in reply to the inevitable question, 'A little coal-dust in the cellar and a good deal on the chairs and tables and on my hands and face;' and I know he will say: 'You are lucky to have even that. There are millions in this town who, etc., etc.' And so the thing will go on until one day he asks, 'Have you no fuel at all?' when I can hear myself replying, 'Only two chairs and one wardrobe,' and he will reply icily, 'You are lucky to have that. Everybody else is dead because they had not even that.'

"And Frederic," I added abruptly, "as a coal-miner I demand the minimum wage for my day--your hot bath to-morrow morning."

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

DEMOBILISATION.

THE SITUATION MADE CLEAR.

"It is quite clear," said the Adjutant, "that Second-Lieut. X must stay."

"Of course," said the G.O.C. Demobs, or, as he is more often called, "Mobbles." "He stays because he doesn't go."

"Yes," said the Adjutant's child full, like the elephant's child, of insatiable curiosity, "X stays because he is retained for selection until he is selected for retention, or, to put it more clearly, he belongs to a class which could go if it had any reason for going and if it wanted to go and wasn't retained as eligible or wasn't eligible for retention. In other words he is in one of the two classes--those who are available to go and those who are eligible to stay."

"Or, conversely," said Mobbles, "those who are available to stay and those who are eligible to go."

"Exactly," said the Adjutant; "but which?"

"The other," said the Adjutant's child. "Now, if he was only in the same boat as Y, the position would be different. Y is here because, though eligible for release, he is available for retention."

"The problem appeared quite simple at first," said the Adjutant, "but now you've made it all muddy."

"It is simply this," said Mobbles; "is he eligible for retention or merely available for release? If the former, is he available for demobilisation, and if the latter, is he eligible for retention? No; what I mean is just this--Is he here or is he--No; I'll start again. Is he retained, and if not why not?"

"Exactly," said the Adjutant's child. "Is he under' thirty-seven, and if so why was he born in 1874, or, to put it quite clearly--"

"Shut up," said the Adjutant. "I want to get it clear before you confuse me again. We'll start afresh. X is eligible to go because he joined the Army before 1916. On the other hand, being under thirty-seven, he must stay."

"That must, I think, be wrong," said Mobbles.

"Quite," said the Adjutant's child.

"Well, then, put it in another way," said the Adjutant. "X can't be demobilised because there is no reason for his going, and he can't stay because there is no authority for retaining him. In other words, to put it quite clearly, as he is being retained he can't go, and as he is being demobilised he isn't to be retained. Do I make myself clear?"

"Quite," said the Adjutant's child.

Mobbles was beyond speech and busily engaged in working it out on paper in decimals.

There was, a knock at the door; a signaller brought a wire, "Report immediately position of Second-Lieut. X."

There was a moment's silence as the Adjutant grasped a message-pad and thought deeply what to say. He wrote a few lines and then looked up. "This is what I have said: 'Second-Lieut. X staying if retained, but available to go if eligible; also eligible for retention if available.' Am I clear?"

"Quite," said the Adjutant's child.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, February 17th_.--On the motion for the rejection of the Bill to relieve Ministers from the necessity of re-election, Mr. PEMBERTON-BILLING incidentally revealed the horrifying fact that he has compiled another Black Book, containing a full list of the PRIME MINISTER'S election pledges. They do not quite come up to the notorious figure of 47,000; but they total 1,211, which seems enough to go on with, and they are all "cross-referenced."

More serious, from the Government's point of view, was the criticism of some of their regular supporters. Lord WINTERTON, speaking as an old Member of the House--though he still looks youthful enough to be its "baby," as he was fifteen years ago--affirmed the value of by-elections as a gauge for public opinion; Major GRAEME, one of the new Coalitionists, thought it would be a mistake to part with a means of testing the record of a Ministry which the War has "swollen to the size of a Sanhedrim."

As the soft answers of the ATTORNEY-GENERAL--whom the late Mr. ROOSEVELT would have probably termed "pussy-footed"--failed to quell the rising storm, the LEADER OF THE HOUSE bowed before it and offered to agree to the insertion in the Bill of a time-limit.

Something had evidently annoyed Mr. DEVLIN. Whether it was the intimation that the new Housing Bill was not to apply to Ireland (which has had similar legislation for years past), or that in future the out-of-work donation in that country would be confined to persons possessing more or less right to it, or (most probably) that an interfering Saxon had announced his intention of moving a "Call of the House" in order to get the recalcitrant Sinn Feiners to take up their Parliamentary duties, I do not know. At any rate the Nationalist seized the opportunity of delivering a general attack upon the Government of such overwhelming irrelevance that Mr. WHITLEY, the least sarcastic of men, was driven to remark, "I think the honourable Member is under the impression that this is last week."

I trust that Mr. CHURCHILL, who is conducting the business of the War Office in Paris, will not read the Official Report of the debate on the Aerial Navigation Bill. For I am sure it would be as great a shock to him as it was to me to learn that Mr. MOSLEY (_ætat_ twenty-two) considered him, in aviation affairs, as lacking in imagination. The idea of anyone regarding our WINSTON as a doddering old fossil!

_Tuesday, February 18th_.--As is usual at this period of the Session the Lords find themselves with nothing to do, and being ineligible for the out-of-work donation they naturally grumble. Foreman CURZON endeavoured to pacify them with the promise of one or two little jobs in the near future; and Lord BUCKMASTER kindly furnished them with something to go on with by raising the topic of industrial unrest in a speech composed in about equal measure of admirable platitudes and highly disputable propositions. Its principal merit was to furnish the new LORD CHANCELLOR with an occasion for delivering his maiden speech. This he did with proper solemnity, though once he slipped into his after-dinner style and addressed his august audience as "My Lords and Gentlemen." His nearest approach to an epigram was the remark that "the nation had been living on its capital and liking it." On the whole he took a hopeful view of the situation--more so than Lord LANSDOWNE, who expressed "the profoundest dismay" at our increasing indebtedness. Fortunately His Lordship's gloomy prophecies have not invariably proved correct.

After Question-time in the Commons Mr. BOTTOMLEY made bitter complaint to the SPEAKER that he had been evicted from his favourite corner-seat by the Member for South-East St. Pancras. Mr. LOWTHER administered chilly consolation. Those little _contretemps_ were apt to occur at the beginning of every new Parliament; and he was not going to lay down a hard-and-fast rule on the subject before it was necessary.

Old Parliamentarians will remember the long-continued struggle between Mr. GIBSON BOWLES and a colleague who was always endeavouring to insert "the thick end of the GEDGE" into "Tommy's" favourite seat. Mr. HOPKINS is the Member who has jumped Mr. BOTTOMLEY'S claim on the present occasion--a fact which will recall THEODORE HOOK'S remark that the game of leap-frog always reminded him of those famous psalmodists, STERNHOLD and HOPKINS.

_Wednesday, February 19th_.--According to Lord STRATHSPEY there are thousands of men in the Army longing to take Orders in the Church Militant, but there are no funds available for training them, and no prospect of a living wage for them if ordained. The LORD CHANCELLOR'S sympathetic references to the painful plight of men whose duty it was to preach content here and hereafter will no doubt be reflected in the administration of his not inconsiderable patronage. Fortunately or unfortunately the clergy cannot or will not "down surplices" to improve their condition.

The unrest in other sections of the working-classes was further examined from various angles. Lord RIBBLESDALE would like them to take a greater share in the profits, and also in the "responsibilities and vicissitudes" of industry. But this suggestion will hardly appeal to them if, as Lord LEVERHULME declared, Labour would have made a poor bargain if it had swapped its increased wages for all the excess profits made during the War. Lord HALDANE'S view, as perhaps you would expect, was that neither Capital nor Labour, but the "organised mind," was the principal agent in producing wealth. Altogether it was an informing debate, which the Government might do worse than reproduce in pamphlet form for the instruction of the public.

On the news of the attack on M. CLEMENCEAU reaching the Commons there was a general desire that the House should pass a resolution of sympathy. But Mr. BONAR LAW deprecated the proposal as being, in his opinion, "against all precedent"--not a little to the surprise of some of the new Members, who thought that in a case like this the _conseil du précédent_ might bow to the _President du Conseil_.

In the procedure debate a strong demand was made that a full official report of the speeches delivered in the six Grand Committees should be issued. But the ATTORNEY-GENERAL pointed out that everything was already reported "except the talk," and found a powerful supporter in Sir EDWARD CARSON, who believed that no official reports would have any effect in keeping Ministers to their pledges. _Hansard_ is as _Hansard_ does, is his motto.