Chapter 2

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=Our Tactful Orators.=

"At the close they asked President ----, who was in the chair, to present a very handsome umbrella to Mr. ----.

In a few well-chosen words the Chairman said he trusted that Mr. ----, while journeying through life, would be successful in warding off many a shower with his umbrella, but they all hoped they would be showers of goodwill."--_Trade Paper._

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"This is great fun and mystifies your friends. Buy a few and you will be the cleverest fellow in your district.

Our leaders are 'Stink Bomb' (make bad smell when broken). Re. 1 a box.

'Sneeze Powder' (makes everybody sneeze when blown in the air) Re. 1 a bottle."

_Advt. in Indian Paper._

Who says the East has no sense of humour?

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=THE WHITE SPAT.=

When it is remembered how large a part has been played in history by revolutionary and political songs it is both lamentable and strange that at the present time only one of the numerous political faiths has a hymn of its own--"The Red Flag." The author of the words owes a good deal, I should say, to the author of "Rule Britannia," though I am inclined to think he has gone one better. The tune is that gentle old tune which we used to know as "Maryland," and by itself it rather suggests a number of tired sheep waiting to go through a gate than a lot of people thinking very redly. I fancy the author realised this, and he has got over it by putting in some good powerful words like "scarlet," "traitors," "flinch" and "dungeon," whenever the tune is particularly sheepish. The effect is effective. Just imagine if the Middle Classes Union could march down the middle of the Strand singing that fine chorus:--

"Then raise the scarlet standard high, Beneath its shade we'll live and die; Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer We'll keep the Red Flag flying here."

Well, I have set myself to supply some of the other parties with songs, and I have begun with "The White Spat," which is to be the party-hymn of the High Tories (if any). I have written it to the same tune as "The Red Flag," because, when the lion finally does lie down with the lamb, it will be much more convenient if they can bleat and roar in the same metre, and I shall hope to hear Mr. ROBERT WILLIAMS and Lord ROBERT CECIL singing these two songs at once one day. I am not wholly satisfied with "The White Spat," but I think I have caught the true spirit, or, at any rate, the proper inconsequence of these things:--

THE WHITE SPAT

Air--_Maryland._

The spats we wear are pure as snow-- We are so careful where we go; We don't go near the vulgar bus Because it always splashes us.

_Chorus._ We take the road with trustful hearts, Avoiding all the messy parts; However dirty you may get We'll keep the White Spat spotless yet.

At night there shines a special star To show us where the puddles are; The crossing-sweeper sweeps the floor-- That's what the crossing-sweeper's for.

_Chorus._ Then take the road, etc., etc.

I know it doesn't look much, just written down on paper; but you try singing it and you'll find you're carried away.

Of course there ought to be an international verse, but I'm afraid I can't compete with the one in my model:--

"Look round: the Frenchman loves its blaze, The sturdy German chants its praise; In Moscow's vaults its hymns are sung; Chicago swells the surging throng."

This is the best I can do:--

From Russia's snows to Afric's sun The race of spatriots is one; One faith unites their alien blood-- "There's nothing to be said for mud."

Now we have the song of the Wee Frees. I wanted this to be rather pathetic, but I'm not sure that I haven't overdone it. The symbolism, though, is well-nigh perfect, and, after all, the symbolism is the chief thing. This goes to the tune of "Annie Laurie":--

THE OLD BLACK BROLLY.

Air--_Annie Laurie._

Under the Old Umbrella, Beneath the leaking gamp, Wrapped up in woolly phrases We battle with the damp. Come, gather round the gamp! Observe, it is pre-war; And beneath the old Black Brolly There's room for several more.

Shameless calumniators Calumniate like mad; Detractors keep detracting; It really is too bad; It really is too bad. To show we're not quite dead, We wave the old Black Brolly And hit them on the head.

Then we have the National Party. I am rather vague about the National Party, but I know they are frightfully military, and they keep on having Mass Rallies in Kensington--complete with drums, I expect. Where all the masses come from I don't quite know, as a prolonged search has failed to reveal anyone who knows anyone who is actually a member of the party. Everybody tells me, though, that there is at least one Brigadier-General (Tempy.) mixed up with it, if not two, and at least one Lord, though possibly one of the Brigadiers is the same as the Lord; but after all they represent the Nation, so they ought to have a song. They have nothing but "Rule Britannia" now, I suppose.

Their song goes to the tune of "The British Grenadiers." I have written it as a duet, but no doubt other parts could be added if the occasion should ever arise.

THE NATIONAL.

Air--_The British Grenadiers._

Some talk of Coalitions, Of Tories and all that; They are but cheap editions Of the one and only Nat.; Our Party has no equals, Though of course it has its peers, With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, For the British Brigadiers.

You have no idea how difficult it is to write down the right number of _rows_ first time; however I daresay the General wouldn't mind a few extra ones.

We represent the Nation As no one else can do; Without exaggeration Our membership is two. We rally in our masses And give three hearty cheers, With a tow, row, row, row, row, row For the National Brigadiers.

There could be a great deal more of that, but perhaps you have had enough.

Of course, if you don't think the poetry of my songs is good enough, I shall just have to quote some of "The International" words to show you that it's the _tune_ that matters.

Here you are:--

"Arise! ye starvelings from your slumbers, Arise! ye criminals of want, For reason in revolt now thunders, And at last ends the age of cant."

If people can get excited singing that, my songs would send them crazy.

Then there is the Coalition. I have had a good deal of difficulty about this, but I think that at last I have hit the right note; all my first efforts were too dignified. This goes to a darkie tune:--

THE PIEBALD MARE.

Air--_Camptown Ladies._

Down-town darkies all declare, Doo-dah, doo-dah, There never was a hoss like the piebald mare, Doo-dah, doo-dah day! One half dark and the other half pale, Doo-dah, doo-dah, Two fat heads and a great big tail, Doo-dah, doo-dah day!

_Chorus._ Gwine to run all night, Gwine to run all day! I put my money on the piebald mare Because she run both way.

Little old DAVE he ride dat hoss, Doo-dah, doo-dah, Where'll she be if he takes a toss? Doo-dah, doo-dah day! De people try to push him off, Doo-dah, doo-dah, De more dey push de more he scoff, Doo-dah, doo-dah day!

_Chorus._ Gwine to run, &c.

Over the largest fence they bound, Doo-dah, doo-dah, Things exploding all around, Doo-dah, doo-dah day! One fine day dat hoss will burst, Doo-dah, doo-dah, But little old DAVE he'll _walk_ in first, Doo-dah, doo-dah day!

_Chorus._ Gwine to run, &c.

Once again, merely written down, the words do _not_ thrill, but I hope none of the parties will definitely reject these hymns till they have heard them actually sung; if necessary I will give a trial rendering myself.

The other day, when we were playing charades and had to act L, we did _Lloyd George and the Coalition_; and the people who were acting the Coalition sang the above song with really wonderful effect. It is true that the other side thought we were acting _Legion and the Gadarene Swine_, but that must have been because of something faulty in our make-up. The sound of this great anthem was sufficiently impressive to make one long to hear the real Coalition shouting it all along Downing Street. It is a solo with chorus, you understand, and the Coalition come in with a great roar of excitement and fervour on _Doo-dah! Doo-dah!_

Yes, I like that.

A. P. H.

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"MORE THAN MILLION SALE. Waste! Waste! Waste!"

_Newspaper Poster._

In mercy we suppress the title of our contemporary.

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"The man in custody has been identified as the result of the efforts of the Birkenhead detective stag."--_Liverpool Paper._

A variation on the old-fashioned sleuth-hound.

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From the report of a speech by Admiral Sir PERCY SCOTT:--

"He might say that when the Germans were demolarised at the Battle of Jutland ..."

_Scottish Paper._

This confirms our impression that, whatever happened at Jutland, we certainly drew the German Navy's teeth.

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QUESTIONS.

How did mankind get to all corners of the earth? and what is the cause of exploding suns? These are among the questions put by Professor A. W. BICKERTON, of the London Astronomical Society, and they would be solved, it seems, if our learned men would only band themselves together. I have no wish to hamper the good work, but a moment's reflection suggests a number of other questions simply asking to be answered.

For instance, what happens when an irresistible force meets Sir ERIC GEDDES?

And why is it that while we hear of thousands of people losing their umbrellas we have never yet heard of a single case where a man openly admitted that he had found one?

And is there any reason why the modern novel should not end happily, instead of the hero and heroine always marrying at the last moment.

And how does it happen that Thanet is the best holiday-place in this country and enjoys more sunshine than any other resort?

And could not _The Daily Mail_ extend the same sunshine privilege to other parts?

And what makes a music-hall audience laugh when a comedian changes his hat and mutters the mystic word, "Winston"?

And who is the gentleman referred to?

And why is it that nine-tenths of the coon-singers on the halls are always wanting to get back to their dear old homes? And who is stopping them in their noble desire? And is there any explanation why all these singers seem to have their homes in distant Alabam, where the roses keep on climbing round the door, just close to where the cotton and the corn are growing all the year round, only later in life to leave the dear old place to take up music-hall work here, and then spend the remainder of their lives telling us of their passionate determination to get away back to the old folks?

And would I be right in my surmise that very few homes in Wigan have roses round the door or stand in fields of growing cotton and corn or reek of new-mown hay?

And why is it that, when you tell a man there are so many million stars in the skies, he will believe you, but the moment he sees a notice on a gate bearing the words "Wet Paint" he puts his finger upon it just to find out for himself?

And why did Mrs. ASQUITH----But perhaps that will be enough for the Professor to be going on with.

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=Commercial Candour.=

"My Studio is the most up-to-date and my methods of photography just a little bit different."--_Canadian Paper._

* * * * * [Illustration: _Hostess._ "WHAT--GOING ALREADY? WHY, IT'S ONLY THREE O'CLOCK."

_Guest._ "I KNOW. BUT I'M DEAD TIRED, AND I'VE GOT TO BE UP EARLY FOR A '_DEJEUNER DANSANT_.'"]

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A NOTE ON THE DRAMA.

["_Hamlet_ was not a business man."--Mr. A. B. WALKLEY.]

Had he but learned the useful knowledge And that essential grasp of things Which training at a business college (If diligently followed) brings, We should have had, no doubt, A _Hamlet_ with the "moody" Dane left out.

He'd not have stalked in gloomy fashion Nor wanted to soliloquise, But rather, undisturbed by passion, He would have sat Napoleon-wise, Chewing an unlit weed And talking down the telephone (full speed).

Planning a "book" to suit his players, He would have sought a theme less grim, For tragedies are doubtful payers; Revue would be the stuff for him, Scanty in dress and plot, With dancers featuring the Hammy Trot.

He missed one glorious proposition-- The money would have come in stacks If he had shown the Apparition For half-a-crown (including tax), And, though 'twas after eight, Added a side-line trade in chocolate.

At other stunts we find him lacking; Thus, when he met _Laertes_, he Did not secure a proper backing Nor nominate the referee; And, what was even worse, Did no finessing for a bigger purse.

Had _Hamlet_ made it his endeavour To seize each chance of lawful gain, Certain it is that there would never Have been a doubt that he was sane; And then perhaps Act Five Had left some people--one or two--alive.

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=Christmas and the Children.=

With the approach of a Festival that is dedicated to the joy of children, Mr. Punch makes bold to plead the cause of the less fortunate among them. The Queen's Hospital for Children, once known as the North-Eastern Hospital for Children, is the only one of its kind in this part of London and serves a poor district with a population of half-a-million. Its claim upon the generosity of more favoured Londoners is as strong as its lack of funds at the present moment is serious. It has one hundred-and-seventy beds, and during the last year has cared for eighteen hundred in-patients and sixty thousand out-patients. Mr. Punch is certain that, if the children of the West-end understood the suffering and needs of these other children of Bethnal Green, they would want to help them by forgoing some of their Christmas toys. Gifts should be addressed to the Secretary, T. GLENTON-KERR, Esq., Queen's Hospital for Children, Hackney Road, Bethnal Green, E.2.

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=ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.=

_Monday, November 29th._--Some time ago Lord NEWTON was appointed Chairman of a Committee on Smoke Abatement. It took enough evidence to fill a Blue-book a couple of inches thick, and, at the request of the Government, furnished an interim report. Supposing, not unnaturally, that its valuable recommendations would be adopted in the Government's housing schemes the Committee was disgusted to find that, save for an emasculated summary in "a dismal journal called _Housing_," no notice was taken of its report. Lord NEWTON is not a man who can safely be invited to consume his own smoke, and he made indignant protest this afternoon. A soft answer from Lord SANDHURST, who assured him that the Government, far from being unmindful of the Committee's labours, had already equipped some thousands of houses with central heating, temporarily diverted his wrath.

Thanks to the Sinn Feiners, the Public Galleries of the House of Commons were closed. Thus deprived of all audience save themselves and the reporters the most loquacious Members were depressed. _Bombinantes in gurgite vasto_, their arguments sounded hollow even to themselves. With an obvious effort they tried to carry on what the SPEAKER described--and deprecated--as "the usual Monday fiscal debate." This time it turned upon the large imports from Russia in 1913. One side seemed to think that similar imports would be forthcoming to-day but for the obstructiveness of the British Government, while the other was confident that Russia had nothing to export save propaganda. The controversy was beginning to pall when by a happy inspiration Mr. RONALD MCNEILL, with mock solemnity, inquired if the last egg in Russia had not been eaten by a relation of the SECRETARY OF STATE FOR WAR.

A long-standing Parliamentary tradition enjoins that the reply to any Question addressed to the CHAIRMAN OF THE KITCHEN COMMITTEE should be greeted with laughter. By virtue of his office he holds, as it were, the "pass-the-mustard" prerogative. Members laughed accordingly when he replied to a question relating to the number of ex-Service men employed by his Committee; but they laughed much more loudly when the hon. Member who put the original Question proceeded to inquire "if his conscience is now quite clear," and Sir J. T. AGG-GARDNER, looking as respectable as if he were _Mrs. Grundy's_ second husband, declared, hand on heart, that it was.

The House gave a rather less stentorian welcome than might have been expected to Sir CHARLES TOWNSHEND, who was escorted up to the Table by Mr. BOTTOMLEY and Colonel CROFT. Perhaps it was afraid that cheers intended for the defender of Kut might be appropriated by the Editor of _John Bull_.

Encouraged, I suppose, by the emptiness of the Ladies' Gallery, it then proceeded with great freedom to discuss a proposal for the employment of women and young persons "in shifts."

_Tuesday, November 30th._--The EX-CROWN PRINCE OF PRUSSIA will be tremendously bucked when he reads the report of to-day's proceedings, and discovers that there is one person in the world who takes him seriously. Sir FREDERICK HALL has been much disturbed by the reports of Hohenzollern intrigues for a restoration, and begged the Government to send a protest to the Dutch Government. But the Fat Boy of Dulwich quite failed to make Mr. BONAR LAW'S flesh creep.

Mr. BALDWIN is the least perturbable of Ministers. Even when Major EDWARDS invited him to elucidate the phrase "a working knowledge of the Welsh language"--"Does it mean having an intimate acquaintance with the literary works of DAFYDD AP GWILYM or the forgeries of 'Iolo Morganwg'?"--he never turned a hair.

Modesty not having hitherto been regarded as one of Mr. CHURCHILL'S most salient characteristics I feel it my duty to record that, on being asked when he would introduce the Supplementary Army Estimates, he replied, "I am entirely in the hands of my superiors."

_Wednesday, December 1st._--That Hebrew should be one of the official languages of Palestine seems, on the face of it, not unreasonable. But, according to Lord TREOWEN, to compel the average Palestinian Jew, who speaks either Spanish or Yiddish, to use classical Hebrew, will be like obliging a user of pidgin English to adopt the language of ADDISON. He failed, however, to make any impression upon Lord CRAWFORD, who expressed the hope that the Government's action would help to purify the language. Sir HERBERT SAMUEL is determined, I gather, to make Palestine a country fit for rabbis to live in.

The Government of Ireland Bill had a very rough time in Committee. The LORD CHANCELLOR managed to ward off Lord MIDLETON's proposal to have one Parliament instead of two--"a blow at the heart of the Bill"--but was less successful when Lord ORANMORE AND BROWNE moved that the Southern Parliament should be furnished with a Senate. The Peers' natural sentiment in favour of Second Chambers triumphed, and the Government were defeated by a big majority.

The Office of Works has been lending a hand to local authorities in difficulties with their housing schemes. But when Sir ALFRED MOND brought up a Supplementary Estimate in respect of these transactions he met with a storm of indignation that surprised him. "The road to bankruptcy," "Nationalisation in the building trade," "Socialistic proposals"--these were some of the phrases that assailed his ears. Fortified, however, by the support of the Labour Party--Mr. MYERS declared that his action had been "the one bright spot in the whole of the housing policy"--Sir ALFRED challenged his critics to go and tell their constituents that they had voted to prevent houses being built, and got his Estimate through by 190 to 64.

_Thursday, December 2nd._--Thanks to the free-and-easy procedure of the House of Lords the Government began the day with a victory. Lord SHANDON had moved an amendment, to which the LORD CHANCELLOR objected. But he did not challenge a division when the question was put. Lord DONOUGHMORE, most expeditious of Chairmen, announced "the Contents have it," and the matter seemed over. But then the LORD CHANCELLOR woke up, and said he had meant to ask for a division. "All right," said the CHAIRMAN; "clear the Bar," and when the white-wanded tellers had counted their flocks it appeared that the Government had a majority of three.

I do not suppose anyone will say of Lord BIRKENHEAD, as a celebrated judge is reported to have said of one of his predecessors, "'Ere comes that 'oly 'umbug 'umming 'is 'orrid 'ymns;" but he is evidently a student of hymnology, for he referred to the Government victory as this "scanty triumph" and for a long time did not challenge any more divisions.

In the House of Commons an attack upon the new liquor regulations--"pieces of gross impertinence" according to Mr. MACQUISTEN--found no favour with the PRIME MINISTER. Mr. MCCURDY announced that he had reduced the price of wheat to the millers and hoped that "in a few weeks" the consumer might begin to receive the benefit. The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER excused the delay in publishing the Economy Committee's reports on the ground that the MINISTER OF MUNITIONS was "at sea," and elicited the inevitable gibe that he was not the only one. Sir ERIC GEDDES, with a judicious compliment to the motorists for setting "an extraordinary example of voluntary taxation," got a Second Reading for his Roads Bill; and Sir GORDON HEWART with some difficulty induced the House to accept his assurance that the Official Secrets Bill was meant for the discomfiture of spies and not the harassing of honest journalists.

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TO A CLERICAL GOLFING FRIEND.

Fine is your temper as your hand-forged iron! Even should you hack the ball from out the spherical, Or find it near the pin with lumps of mire on, Your language is not otherwise than clerical. Once only, when your toe received the niblick, The word I saw your lips frame was not biblic.