Chapter 2

James, when I note your air supremely docile, Your well-fed look of undisturbed content (Doubtless you find this land an adipose isle After lean times on active service spent), I do not join with those who hymn your praises For calmness mid the turmoil of the town; I find myself consigning you to blazes-- James, you have let me down.

For I am one who, after having striven, A hero (_vide_ Press) though far from bold, Has come back home and, naturally, given Artistic touches to the tales he's told; The Transport was my scene of martial labours; That was the section where I saw it through; And I have told astonished friends and neighbours Some lurid yarns of you.

You are the theme I have been wont to brag on; I've told how you, my now innocuous moke, Would chew the tail-board off a G.S. wagon By way of mere _plaisanterie_ (or joke); Dubbed you most diabolical of ragers, A rampant hooligan, a fetid tough, A thing without respect for sergeant-majors-- That is to say, hot stuff.

Full many a fair young thing I've seen displaying A sympathetic pallor on her cheek And wonder in her eye, when I've been saying How almost every day in Salonique You jazzed with me on brinks of precipices; But when I talk to-day they cannot fail To think of you in town and murmur, "This is A likely sort of tale."

To take, without one thought of evil plotting, Even without one last protesting kick, Thus kindly to somnambulistic trotting-- Oh, James, old pal, it was a dirty trick; To show the yarns I'd told of you and written (In letters home) were not entirely swank At very least, I think, you might have bitten The policeman at the Bank.

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BOAT RACE "INTELLIGENCE."

"The Oxford University crew arrived at Henley yesterday for a week's practice. The Cambridge president, Mr. E.A. Berrisford, accompanied the crew as spare man."--_Provincial Paper._

* * * * *

"The Government, said Mr. Bonar Law, had not received any intimation from the Netherlands Government that Holland had decided to keep the ex-Kaiser in Curaçoa."--_Evening Standard._

Good news for Mr. PUSSYFOOT.

* * * * *

"ESSEX and SUSSEX BORDERS.--To be Let, well-built Mansion, surrounded by fine gardens, situate in one of the finest parts of this delightful country."--_Daily Paper._

But it must be rather a nuisance to cross the Thames every time you want to go from the Essex to the Sussex wing.

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SUZANNE'S BANKING ACCOUNT.

"These want paying," said Suzanne as she bounced into my nominally sacred den at a strictly prohibited hour. Therewith she thrust a _dossier_ of tradesmen's bills into my feebly-resisting hands, and bang went an idea I had been tenderly nursing since breakfast.

"But I can't spend the rest of the morning writing cheques," I protested. "I'm engaged just now on a most important article."

"With your eyes shut," commented Suzanne, stooping to a grossly unfair insinuation. "I must tell Cook to make the breakfast coffee stronger in future; then you might manage to--"

"Look here, Suzanne, you've been married to me long enough to know my methods of work. I can't begin an article until I've got the whole thing shaped in my mind, and to do that I must shut out everything else."

"Especially your wife, I suppose. Well, I won't stay. You've got all the bills there; but don't start writing the cheques till you've got them well shaped in your mind."

"But what on earth does all this mass of accounting literature represent?" I asked.

"For the benefit of new readers a synopsis is attached," said Suzanne. "They're mostly small items; for instance, Madame Pillby--she's the little dressmaker round the corner, you know; though why an all-British spinster should call herself 'Madame' I can't imagine--five-and-fourpence-ha'penny."

"Suzanne; I will _not_ write a cheque for five-and-fourpence-ha'penny! Are they all like that?"

"The biggest is two guineas; that's what it cost to have my last dance-hat altered to your specifications, because you said it tickled your nose. There are seventeen of them in all--bills, not hats; total, twelve pounds fifteen shillings and elevenpence three farthings, pa-pa."

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," I said. "I'm going to advertise in the Personal Columns of the papers that I will not be responsible for payment of any debts incurred by my wife under the sum of one pound. That'll stop this half-crown cheque nuisance. Why don't you go out and buy yourself a packet of assorted postal-orders?"

"I did once; but I got in with a nice long list just before closing-time, and there was very nearly a riot on both sides of the counter."

"Well, anyhow, this sort of thing has got to stop; I can't waste all the morning settling your miserable little bills. What we'll do is this: you shall have your own banking-account, and in future you can write your own cheques--as long as the Bank will stick it."

"Oh, how perfectly splendid!" cried Suzanne. "I've always wanted to have a cheque-book of my own, but Father thought it unsexing. Do let's go and take out the licence at once."

The precious hour of fertilisation was already wasted, so there and then I escorted Suzanne to the Bank. At my demand we were ushered into the Manager's room, where we were received with a courtesy only too obviously tempered by the suspicion that I had come to suggest an overdraft. On my explaining our errand, however, the Manager's features relaxed their tenseness, and as I wrote the cheque that brought Suzanne's account into a sordid world he even attempted a vein of fatherly benediction.

"Now we shall require a specimen of the lady's signature," he said as he produced an amazingly obese ledger and indicated where Suzanne was to sign her name. "Remove the glove, please," he added hastily.

"Just like old times in the vestry," said Suzanne to me in a whisper. Then she wrote her name--"Suzanne Désirée Beverley Trumpington-Jones"--all of it. By the time she had finished she had trespassed into several columns reserved for entirely different uses. The Manager surveyed the effect with consternation.

"Rather a long name, isn't it?" he asked diffidently. "I was only wondering if our cheque-forms would accommodate it all."

"Well, I'm not really responsible for it all," she replied. "The Trumpington-Jones part is the more or less permanent result of a serious accident when I was little more than a child. But I might shorten it a bit. I sometimes answer to the name of Soozles, but I suppose that would only do for really intimate cheques. How would 'S. Beverley T.-Jones' do? I shouldn't like to lose the 'Beverley' as it's a kind of family heirloom, and I always use it, even when I'm writing to the sweep."

I edged away to the window and left them to settle the signature question among themselves.

"And what kind of cheques would you like--'Order' or 'Bearer'?" I next heard the Manager asking.

"Show me some patterns, please," commanded Suzanne.

On the wall was a frame containing a number of different cheque varieties, to which her attention was directed.

"Haven't you any other colours?" she asked. "I thought a black-and-yellow cheque would be rather becoming; but don't bother about it if it's not in stock."

She ended by taking one book of blue and one of purple cheques, and with these and a paying-in-book (which she said would do so nicely for spills) we at last departed. From behind the closed door of the private office I distinctly heard a prolonged sigh of relief.

A few days later I came upon Suzanne sitting at her writing-table and examining a cheque with a mystified air.

"Anything wrong?" I asked.

"I don't quite know," she replied. "I sent Angela this cheque the other day to pay for my ticket for the Law-Courts' Revel, and she says the Bank people have returned it to her. And it's marked 'R.D.' in red ink. Who is 'R.D.'?"

"He's the gentleman who censors cheques; and he has a way of disqualifying them when there's not enough cash to pay them. Suzanne, what have you done with all that money I paid into your account last Monday?"

"But I've only paid those footling little bills. There must be tons of money left, unless the Bank's been speculating with it."

"Let me have a look at that cheque," I said.

She handed it to me and I examined it carefully.

"I see it's signed 'Thine, Suzanne.'"

"But that's how I always sign myself to Angela," she said; "and the Manager distinctly told me to use my customary signature."

"Signature--not signatures," I explained gently. "They're rooted in convention at the Bank and can't bear the least approach to variety. And what's this scribbled on the back of it?"

"Oh, that's only a note I dashed off to Angela telling her what I was going to wear. It seemed such a pity to waste a sheet of notepaper when there was all that space to spare."

I gave her a quarter-of-an-hour's lesson in the art of drawing cheques. Then I took up the paying-in book which was lying on the table. I knew it ought to be in a virgin state as I had added nothing to the entrance money. "And what might all these figures portend?" I asked.

"Those? Oh, that's baby's weight-chart. I'm always going to keep it there."

Well, well, if Suzanne looks after the weighing-in I can at least control the paying-in. And I left it at that.

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IF THE ARMY ADVERTISED.

BATTALION ORDERS.

(1) _Duties, Officers._--Orderly Officer for to-morrow: Second-Lieutenant W. Jenks.

W. Jenks is prepared to undertake duty for any brother subaltern. Terms--one day's pay, plus fifty per cent. for Saturdays or Sundays (handsome discount for cash in advance). Sleepless activity. Guards visited courteously but firmly. Any unusual occurrence handled with precision and despatch. Engage W. Jenks to do your duty, then sign your report with a clear conscience. Testimonials from all ranks.

(2) _Parades._--0830 hours and 1130 hours, as per routine.

Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! Come in your hundreds. Amusing and health-giving. Bracing barrack-square; magnificent pedestrian exercise. Come and be experimented on by Sergt.-Major Whizbang, the great military spellbinder. See the Adjutant put Company Commanders through the hoop. Screams of laughter at every performance. Best places in the ranks for those who arrive early. Twice daily (Sundays excepted) till further notice. Breakfast kept for those attending first house.

(3) _Dress, etc., Officers._--Attention is again drawn to recent instructions on these matters.

Why invite trouble when the local A.P.M. is simply yearning to advise you on points of etiquette? A kindly benevolent man who never forgets that he himself was once a regimental officer. He will tell you whether or not you may arm your aged grandmother across a busy London street without risking your commission. If you favour whiskers, call and see his inimitable museum of permissible patterns. Always at your service.

(4) _Musketry._--The next party to fire General Musketry Course will proceed on the 2nd prox.

The finest form of outdoor sport (for these who prefer it to any other) is shooting. We are making up a little party to proceed to camp next week. Will you join us? Sylvan scenery; country air; simple wholesome diet; young and cheery society. Cigars or cocoanuts every time you hit the bull's-eye. Practice at stray dogs about camp is encouraged. Secure the skin of one of these beautifully-marked creatures for your own barrack-room bedside.

(5) _Hair, Length of._--The practice of allowing the hair to grow beyond the regulation length must cease.

Why suffer the inconvenience of long hair when our own regimental tonsorial artist is waiting to bob it for you free of charge? Luxurious saloon; deft workmanship; no tips. His speciality--memento locks. Twelve such souvenirs guaranteed from one crop. Bald soldiers supplied to taste from surplus clippings. A delicate, lasting and inexpensive compliment to lady friends on leaving a station. Start collecting now.

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INNS OF COURT RESERVE CORPS.

A psychical séance of the above disembodied Corps will be held on Friday the 26th March, in the Common Room of the Law Society in Chancery Lane (by kind permission of the Council), commencing 7.30 P.M.

Astral members desirous of attending should apply to their late Platoon Sergeants, or to Mr. H.L. BOLTON, 1, The Sanctuary, Westminster.

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, February 23rd._--The Highland Fling involves, I understand, some complicated figures, but it is nothing to the Lowland Reel (COATS' variety), on which subject Sir AUCKLAND GEDDES was rather badly heckled this afternoon. A suggestion that Messrs. COATS might use the profits of their foreign trade to reduce the price to the home consumer drove the harassed Minister into an unconscious _mot_. "Suppose," he said, "they cut the thread ... where should we be then?"

Mr. CHARLES PALMER, the well-known _Globe_-trotter, has just completed a remarkable journey. Within the space of a few weeks he has traversed the distance from the Press Gallery to the Floor of the Chamber, going round by the Wrekin. During the last stage of the route the intrepid traveller was accompanied by Sir HENRY DALZIEL and Mr. BOTTOMLEY.

In introducing a Vote on Account of the Army for a trifle of seventy-four millions the WAR MINISTER proudly announced that Britain and Germany were the only countries in the world that had abolished conscription--and Germany's action was not exactly voluntary.

Mr. CHURCHILL'S description of a new tank, so fast that it could outstrip a foxhound "over a country," so cool that even in the tropics its crew would preserve their _sangfroid traditionnel_, and so delicately sprung that it could run over a brick without hurting itself--or the brick--momentarily encouraged the belief that here was the weapon to make war impossible. But almost in the same breath Mr. CHURCHILL stated that simultaneously the War Office had invented a rifle grenade which would put the super-tank out of action. "As you were!"

Criticism was not entirely disarmed. Mr. DEVLIN of course talked of Ireland--"the only country with which the Empire is at war to-day;" and little Capt. WEDGWOOD BENN rebuked Mr. CHURCHILL for his unfilial sneer at "pious America," and was himself advised "not to develop more indignation than he could contain."

_Tuesday, February 24th._--In both Houses the new policy of the Allies in regard to Soviet Russia was unfolded. The gist of it is that they will not enter into diplomatic relations with the Bolshevist Government until it is ready to adopt civilised methods, but in the meantime will heartily encourage trade with Russia. It would seem that the practical genius of our race has once more discovered a means of indulging sentiment without interfering with business.

Lord BIRKENHEAD (not BROKENHEAD, by the way, as the _Cork Constitution_, inadvertently or not, calls him) chaffed LORD HALDANE on his "How Happy could I be with Either" attitude between Liberalism and Labour, and advised him definitely to be off with the old love and on with the new, in order that when Labour came into its own the Woolsack might be adequately filled.

Sir ALFRED MOND did not allow himself to be perturbed by the description of certain pictures in the Imperial War Museum as "freaks" and "libels," for he had observed "with some astonishment" that most of the art critics had pronounced them to be very fine works of art. But when Mr. JEREMIAH MACVEAGH asked if some of these pictures were not portraits of Cabinet Ministers, "and if so how can they possibly be works of art?" the First Commissioner's artistic conscience was stirred, and compelled him to give the questioner a little instruction in first principles. "Whether a portrait is a work of art depends," he pointed out, "on the artist and not on the subject painted."

The evening was devoted to drink. Sir JOHN REES, who urged the abolition of all wartime restrictions, would have been more effective, perhaps, if he had not striven so hard to be lively. One of his sallies, evoked by the impending _début_ of Lady ASTOR as a Parliamentary orator, was indeed, as she observed, "more than polite."

She herself had her moments of gaiety, but was best, I thought, when seriously arguing for the continuance of the restrictions on alcohol in the special interests of women.

I am afraid, however, that the unregenerate were more intrigued by Mr. CARR'S claim that the Carlisle experiment had been a great success--"it was the only city in the country in which a man could buy a bottle of whisky to take home."

_Wednesday, February 25th._--Question-time in the Commons was dominated by the news that Mr. ASQUITH was in for Paisley, and Members were more concerned in discussing the effect of his return upon the Government and Opposition than in listening to Ministerial replies. Sir DONALD MACLEAN was "all smiles" over his approaching release from the responsibilities of leadership; but Mr. HOGGE, I thought, looked rather like _Mrs. Gummidge_ when "thinking of the old 'un."

A nod from Mr. MACPHERSON and the Government of Ireland Bill was formally and silently introduced--strange contrast to the long debates and exciting scenes that attended the birth of the Bill's three predecessors in 1886, 1893 and 1912.

Sir ROBERT HORNE explained with his usual clarity and persuasiveness the new Unemployment Insurance Bill. The debate on it was interrupted to allow the discussion of a motion by Sir J. REMNANT advocating the increase of police pensions to meet the present cost of living. The police are, with good reason, very popular with the House. In vain the HOME SECRETARY pointed out that the Government even in this cause did not feel justified in "out-running the constable." Forgetting all their recent zeal for economy Members trooped into the Bobbies' Lobby and beat the Government by 123 to 57.

The idea that Irishmen, however much they may dislike British rule, never miss an opportunity of raiding the British Treasury, has received a rude shock. Captain REDMOND, inquiring about the allocation of a sum of a quarter-of-a-million for reconstruction in Ireland, was surprised to learn that ten thousand pounds had been allotted to his own constituency, but not claimed. Mr. DEVLIN supplied the key to the mystery: "The reason it was not asked for was because we did not know it was there."

I learn from _Who's Who?_ that the recreations of Sir ALFRED MOND include "golf, motoring and all forms of sport." It must have been with keen regret, therefore, that he felt himself compelled to refuse facilities for cricket in Hyde Park, owing to the risk to the public. Viscount CURZON asked if cricket was more dangerous than inflammatory speeches. But the FIRST COMMISSIONER, speaking no doubt from personal experience, expressed the view that there was considerably more danger from a cricket-ball.

The Opposition had rather bad luck on the Constantinople debate. If they had waited till Monday, as originally arranged, they could have trained their big gun from Paisley on to the Government entrenchments. Through insisting on the earliest possible date, they had to content themselves with the far lighter artillery of Sir DONALD MACLEAN. Much, however, was hoped from Lord ROBERT CECIL, who was believed to be heavily charged with high explosives. But before he could come into range up jumped Sir EDWARD CARSON, and in a few brief sentences pointed out that until the PRIME MINISTER had told them the grounds for the decision to leave the Turk his capital, and the conditions under which he was to stay there, the House was talking in the air. Members thereupon clamoured for the PRIME MINISTER, who accordingly had to make his defence when he had heard only half the indictment, and to expend most of the ammunition he had prepared for Lord ROBERT, including some remarkable specimens of the "deadly parallel," before receiving his adversary's fire.

That in turn rather upset Lord ROBERT'S plan of campaign, and he was not much more destructive than Sir DONALD MACLEAN had been. The House as a whole seemed satisfied that the Allies had done their best with a problem for which there is no perfect solution, and that there was at least a chance that the SULTAN would find the guns of an international fleet pointing at his palace windows a strong incentive to good behaviour.

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ANOTHER LADY M.P.?

"Mr. Asquith was accompanied by Mrs. Asquith and the audience singing 'He's a jolly good Lady Bonham-Carter.'"--_Scotch Paper._

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A FANCY BIRD.

When any friend of mine is in trouble I always make a point of writing and asking if there is anything I can do. As a rule, there isn't, but it is a satisfaction to me to know I have made the offer. When I heard that Filmer was leaving his spacious house and grounds at Hampstead, selling half his furniture and moving into a third storey flat at Battersea, I wrote at once. I received in reply one of his usual barely decipherable scrawls: "Yes, old dear, you might find a home for my raven; it's ancient and a bit rusty, but lots of life in it yet. I'm parting with all my garden things."

I busied myself about the matter at once. When a man you have known and respected for years is driven by high prices and income-tax to vacate a beautiful home and asks such a simple thing of you as to find a shelter for his bird, you like to do your best. Personally I knew nothing of ravens, but I recognized the inadequacy of my garden for the accommodation of a bird of any kind, therefore I could not think of taking it. But I had a surface acquaintance with the owner of a carriage drive, and I approached him without delay. He was cold in his manner and said with so many calls upon him he could not see his way to contribute towards the expense of Filmer's move, although he had no doubt, from my representation, that it was a deserving case.

The misunderstanding arose from my leading up to the object of my visit gradually instead of coming to the point at once and asking him to give a comfortable home to a raven. When I explained further he unbent and said he would think it over.

Later he wrote:--

_Re_ RAVEN.