Punch, 1917.07.04, Vol. 153, Issue No. 1
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Various >> Punch, 1917.07.04, Vol. 153, Issue No. 1
Produced by Jon Ingram, Punch, or the London Charivari,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
Vol. 153.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
Punch 1917.07.04
[Illustration: VOL. CLIII]
* * * * *
MENTIONED IN DESPATCHES.
The oldest inhabitant sat on a bench in the sun, the day's newspaper
spread across his knees, and the newest visitor sat beside him.
"He do be mentioned in despatches, do our Billy, by Sir DOUGLAS HAIG
himself. If it hadn't a-been for him, where'd the Army been? he says. I
knowed him ever since I come to these parts, and that weren't yesterday.
He'd come round that there bend a-whistling, not sort o' cockahoop, like
some does, but just a cheery sort o' 'Here I am again;' and he'd always
stop most anywhere, if so be as you held up your hand.
"I've seed ladies with their golf-clubs runnin' up from the club-house,
and he'd just sort of whistle to show as he seed them, and wait for them
as perlite as any gentleman. For it do be powerful hot to walk back home
with your golf-clubs after two rounds; I was a caddy, I was, 'fore I
went on the line, so I knows what I'm telling you.
"It didn't make no difference if they was champions or duffers what
couldn't carry the burn not if they tried all day. Or if it were an old
woman a-goin' back from market with all her cabbages and live ducks and
eggs and onions--it were all just the same to little Billy.
"Then I mind the day he was took. George he come up and tells me as they
have took Billy because the Army wants all it can get. I was fair
knocked over, and him so little and all.
"Then the Captain, what was the best golfer here, come back for leave.
"'Grandpa,' says he, same as he always call me--'Grandpa,' he says,
'I've been thinking about Billy all the time I've been out, and longing
to hear him whistle again, and now I'm home and he's gone. I shall have
to get back to France again to see him.'
"So he will, Sir, and if Billy was going up right under the German guns
it's my belief as Captain would get out of his trench to go and see him.
"What regiment is Billy in, did you say, Sir? Why, he got no regiment.
Ain't I been telling you, Sir, 'Puffing Billy' is what our golfers here
call the little train what used to run six times a day from the town to
the links. Just see what the paper says, Sir. I don't be much of a
reader, but hark ye to this: 'I wish also to place on record here the
fact that the successful solution of the problem of railway transport
would have been impossible had it not been for the patriotism of the
railway companies at home. They did not hesitate to give up their
locomotives and rolling stock.'
"That's 'Puffing Billy,' Sir, him what I've put the signal down for
hundreds an' hundreds of times. I miss him powerful bad, but the Army
wanted him, and we've been and got some thanks too. I'm proud to think
my Billy's in the paper."
* * * * *
THE MELTING-POT.
["The municipality of Rothausen has decided to present to the collection
of metal which is being made in Germany its monument of Kaiser WILLIAM
THE FIRST."--_Reuter_.]
Heavy is Armageddon's price
And loud the call to sacrifice;
All stuff composed of likely metals--
Door-knockers, hairpins, cans and kettles--
Into the War's insatiate melting-pot
Has to be shot.
That was a hard and bitter blow
When first your church-bells had to go--
Those saintly bells that rang carillons
While in the maw of happy millions
Pure joy and gratitude to Heaven thrilled
For babies killed.
It hurt your Christian hearts to melt
A source of faith so keenly felt;
And now (worse sacrilege than that) you
Propose to take yon regal statue,
That godlike effigy, and make a gun
Of WILLIAM ONE!
What will _He_ say when you reduce
His Relative to cannon-juice?
The prospect must be pretty rotten
If thus the Never-To-Be-Forgotten
Is treated, like the corpses of your friends,
For useful ends.
I hear the ALL-HIGHEST mutter, "Ha!
They're liquefying Grandpapa!
The nation's needs, that grow acuter,
Count sacred things as so much pewter;
Even my holy crown may go some day
Down the red way!"
O.S.
* * * * *
LE SÉNÉGALAIS.
Samédou Kieta sat up in bed with a child's primer open before him.
"M--A," he spelled. Then, after an incredibly long time of patient
puzzling, "M--A--MA. Oui, MA. Y a bon!" and embraced the whole ward in
one wide white grin before turning to the next syllable, "M--A--N." Once
more the puzzled frown on the black face, once more the whispered hints
from neighbouring beds, once more the triumph of perseverance,
"M--A--N--MAN!" He was just enjoying his success and chanting his
pidgin-French paean of happiness, "Y a bon! Y a bon!" when Soeur
Antoinette paused by his bed. "Très bien, Sidi," she said, "mais il faut
les mettre ensemble," and with her white finger she guided his black one
back to the first syllable.
Here was difficulty indeed! He knew all right that M--A--N was MAN, but
what was M--A? And when, after intense effort, he re-discovered that
M--A spelled MA, it was only to find that he had forgotten what M--A--N
spelled. At last the other wounded could contain themselves no longer,
and the ward was filled with laughing shouts of "Maman!" in which
Samédou joined most happily.
Presently the English nurse passed the negro's bed, and he at once
turned to another branch of learning. "Good morning," he said, and, when
she smiled back a greeting to him, he added, "T'ank you," and looked
proudly round him at his fellow-patients as who should say, "See how we
understand one another, she and I!"
During a sojourn of many months in the hospital Samédou invariably met
the sufferings he was called upon to endure with an uncomplaining
fortitude, which might have seemed due to insensibility had not the
staff had ample proof that his silence was the silence of a fine
courage. On one occasion a set of photographs of the hospital was in
preparation, and when the _salle de pansements_ had to be taken the
photographer decided that the best lay figure for his _mise-en-scène_
would be a black man, as a striking contrast to the white raiment of the
staff. So Samédou was carried in on a stretcher and laid upon the table.
Unfortunately the surgeons and nurses were so occupied with the business
of placing things in the best light that no one realised that the poor
Senegalese did not understand the purpose of the preparations, and when
the English nurse was called to take up her position she noticed the
hands of Samédou Kieta clutching the sides of the table and his black
eyes rolling in a sea of white.
She at once ran to the nearest ward. "Quelqu'un voudrait bien me prêter
une photographie?" she asked, and a dozen eager hands offered her the
treasured groups of _la famille_. Taking one at random she returned to
Samédou and held it before his eyes. "Nous aussi," she said, "toi, moi,
le Major, l'infirmier."
Samédou looked, and a heavenly relief chased the tension from his face.
"Y a bon," he said happily. "Toi, bon camarade!"
When his wounds began to be less painful the problem was how to keep the
Sidi in bed. No one cared to be very severe with him, so the staff
resorted to the usual weak method of confiscating all his clothes save a
shirt, and hoping for the best. But one day the English nurse, going
unexpectedly into a distant ward, came upon Samédou Kieta, simply
dressed in a single shirt and a bandage, visiting the freshly-arrived
wounded and scattering wide grins around him. At her horrified
exclamation he began to shrivel away towards the door, ushering himself
out with the propitiatory words, "Good morning. Good night. T'ank you.
Water!" A most effectual method of disarming reproof.
Poor Samédou has since passed on to another hospital for electric
treatment, but the staff still treasures his first and only letter:--
"Moi, Samédou Kieta, arrivé à l'autre hôpital. Y a bon. Mais moi,
Samédou Kieta, toi pas oublié. Merci, Monsieur le Major deux
galons. Merci, Soeur Antoinette. Merci, Madame l'Anglaise. Y a bon.
Y a bon. Y a bon."
* * * * *
"The Germans have suffered 100,000 casualties in 10 days on the
western front, and their losses will increase rapidly. They must
shorten their lives wherever possible in order to save
men."--_Ceylon Morning Leader._
In this laudable endeavour they may count upon receiving the hearty
assistance of the Allies.
* * * * *
"Young gentleman (21), good family, strong, healthy, public school,
O.T.C., Varsity education, speaks English, French, Spanish
perfectly, engineering training, efficient car driver and mechanic,
horseman, is open to any sporting job connected with war; willing
undertake any risks; no salary, but expenses paid."
If the advertiser will apply to the nearest recruiting-station he will
hear of something that will just suit him.
* * * * *
"The inhabitants of the Peak district are in a state of great alarm
at the invasion of a great part of their beautiful country by what
some of them describe as a plague of locusts, and yesterday
considerable numbers of people visited the district where the hosts
are still advancing. Many from Sheffield and Manchester alighted at
Chinley, Edale, and Hope, among them some eminent etymologists,
anxious to be of assistance in ridding the country of a serious
menace to the field and garden crops."--_Yorkshire Paper_.
It is understood that the etymologists are chiefly concerned for
the roots.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE NATION DEMANDS.]
MR. PUNCH (_to the PRIME MINISTER_). "IF YOU _MUST_ HAVE DIRTY LINEN
WASHED IN PUBLIC DURING THE WAR, FOR GOD'S SAKE, SIR, WASH IT CLEAN."
* * * * *
[Illustration]
_Civilian model (posing for latest war picture)_. "MUS' SAY I'LL BE GLAD
WHEN PEACE IS DECLARED. THIS CLEARING HUNS OUT OF TRENCHES IS FAIR
TELLIN' ON ME."
* * * * *
THE ABSENTEE.
(_Embodying divers quotations from the poems of G.K.C._)
Methinks at last the time has come to speak ...
Since good old Russia up and revoluted
I have been waiting, week by weary week,
To hear the news--the obvious item--bruited;
But now I give it up; it will not come;
Or anyway I can no more be dumb.
Where were you, GILBERT, when the great release--
"Freedom in arms, the riding and the routing,"
Demos superbly potting at police,
And actual swords getting an actual outing--
Came at the last, the things wherein you shone,
Or let us think you'd shine in, CHESTERTON?
You were not there! Damme, you were not _there_!
Alas for us whose faith refused to doubt you!
"All that lost riot that you did not share"
Managed, somehow, to get along without you;
When Russia "went to battle for the creed"
GILBERT sat tight and did not even bleed!
CHESTERTON! Dash it all, my dear old chap!
Why, weren't you always eloquent on "Valmy,"
"Death and the splendour of the scarlet cap"?
Here were the days you looked upon as palmy.
Just think of all your poems! Why, good Lord,
There is no word you work so hard as "sword."
We looked to see you there, the stout and staunch,
"Red flag" in one hand and "ten swords" in t'other;
Saw the strong sword-belt bursting from your paunch;
Pitied the foes you'd fall upon and smother;
Heard you make droves of pale policemen bleat,
Running amok to "slay them in the street."
Strong athwart Heav'n ran the high barricades,
And giant Bastilles reeled, impossibly smitten,
And men with broken hands swung thunderous blades
In "Russia's wrath"--just as you've often written;
Yea, the terrific tyrants really reeled,
While CHESTERTON sat safe at Beaconsfield.
And yet--I understand; I don't impute
That only in your poems do you bicker;
You would abstain, when people revolute,
No more, I'm sure, than you'd abstain from liquor;
And here we have it--here's the reason why:
_This was a revolution that was "dry."_
* * * * *
The Eagle's Plume.
"The bride, who is an American by birth, was given away by her
feather."--_Liverpool Daily Post_.
* * * * *
"Mr., Mrs. and Miss ----, who were in their bungalow at Sidbar, had
a lucky escape from the earthquake recently, for no sooner had they
ot out than gpractically the whole house cae mdown."--_Pioneer
(Allahabad)_.
On this occasion, contrary to the usual rule, Nature appears to have
been more careful of the individual than of the type.
* * * * *
"You, too, reader, if you have not already visited ----'s, have a
pleasant, bright happy experience before you. Why not visit this
modern Forum to-morrow?"--_"Callisthenes" in the evening papers,
June 23rd._
One of our reasons for not taking this well-meant advice was that June
24th was a Sunday.
* * * * *
"Great fires continue in Germany. The latest include gutting of the
Moabit Goods Station in Berlin wherein tanks of petrol, hydrogen,
_et cetera_, exploded, resulting in the destruction of a part of
Vilna and the township of Osjory near the Grodno conflagration
station and a basket factory at Happe."--_Ceylon Independent_.
The effect of this remarkably extensive explosion seems to have been
felt even in Colombo.
* * * * *
WOMAN AS USUAL.
(_In the manner of some of our own evening papers_.)
It was with a real pang that I tore myself away from the Frugality
Exhibition, where the culinary demonstrations were most enthralling.
Just before leaving, however, I watched a wonderfully tasty hash being
compounded with oddments of rabbit and banana flour. It exhaled an aroma
which I hated to leave--even for luncheon at the Fitz.
AT THE FITZ.
By a strange coincidence I made the acquaintance of an admirable rabbit
_goulash_, which was, I believe, identical with that which I saw being
prepared at the Frugality Exhibition. Thus extremes meet, and the fusion
of classes is happily illustrated in the common use of the same
comestibles.
There are always a number of people lunching in the great hotels in
these war-time days, and I was glad to see Lady Allchin, looking
remarkably well-nourished in a mauve Graeco-Roman dress and Gainsborough
hat; Lady Waterstock, Lord Hilary Sprockett and Sir Peter Frye-Smith.
YESTERDAY'S WEDDING.
Lady Carmilla Dunstable made a lovely bride at St. Mungo's, Belgravia,
yesterday, on her marriage to Prince Wurra-Wurra, of Tierra-del-Fuego.
The story of the engagement is wildly romantic. Lady Carmilla was
returning from Peru, where she had been hunting armadillos; the ship in
which she was travelling was wrecked in the Straits of Magellan, and she
was rescued by Prince Wurra-Wurra, who was casually cruising about in
his catamaran. Her family were for some time hostile to the match, but
all objections were soon removed, as the Prince has abjured cannibalism
and is now an uncompromising vegetarian. The bridegroom, who is a
fine-looking man of the prognathous type, was loudly cheered by the
crowd on leaving the church.
A CHARMING CONCERT.
All true melomaniacs will rejoice to hear that the Signora Balmi-Dotti
has decided to give another vocal recital at the Dorian Hall. Her
programme as usual reflects her catholic and cosmopolitan taste, for she
will sing not only Welsh and Cornish folk-songs, but works by
PALESTRINA, Gasolini, Larranaga, Sparafucile, and the young American
composer, Ploffskin Jee, so that both classical and modern masters will
be represented.
TWO RECIPES FOR TEA CAKES.
The FOOD CONTROLLER looks askance at teas in these days, but in hot
weather, when luncheon is reduced to the lowest common denominator and
dinner resolves itself into a cold collation in the cool of the evening,
some refreshment between our second and third meals is indispensable. I
accordingly give two recipes which need no wheaten flour and are very
quickly made.
Take half-a-pound of sugar, a quarter of caviare, a quarter of calipash,
a quarter of millet and six peaches. Beat the caviare to a cream and
pound the peaches to a pulp; then add the sugar and millet and stir
vigorously with a mirliton. Put into patty-pans and bake gently for
about thirty minutes in an electric silo-oven. About thirty cakes should
result; but more will materialize if you increase the ingredients
proportionately.
Take two kilowatts of ammoniated quinine and beat up with one very large
egg--a swan's for choice. Add gradually ten ounces of piperazine, a pint
of Harrogate water and inhale leisurely through a zoetrope.
MÉLISANDE.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
_Extract from Hun airman's report_. "WE DROPPED BOMBS ON A BRITISH
FORMATION, CAUSING THE TROOPS TO DISPERSE AND RUN ABOUT IN A
PANIC-STRICKEN MANNER."
* * * * *
The New Plutocracy.
"Munition Lady wants to buy Piano and Wardrobe; cash."--_North
Star._
* * * * *
"Goats' cheese is tasty and nourishing and more easily made than
butter; and in winter time the humblest of sheds will suffice for
its sleeping place."--_Daily Mail._
The cheese should however be carefully tethered.
* * * * *
CHARIVARIA.
According to an Italian report the conviction of the master-spy, VON
GERLACH, was effected by the aid of "the two most notorious burglars in
Europe." Another slight for LITTLE WILLIE.
***
Reporting on a Glasgow subway railway accident, Colonel PRINGLE advises
that "the use of ambiguous phraseology on telephones should not be
permitted." Abbreviations now dear to the London subscriber, such as
"Grrrrrrr-kuk-kuk-kuk-bbbzzzzz--are you--ping! phut! grrrrr!" etc.,
etc., will no longer be allowed.
***
The Sinn Feiners are proposing to send a mission to the United States to
explain their attitude. An upward tendency in plate-glass insurance is
already manifesting itself in New York and elsewhere.
***
Owing, we understand, to other distractions, no actress last week
obtained a divorce.
***
A trade union for funeral workers has just been formed, the members of
which are pledged to oppose Sunday burials. It is considered very
unlucky to be buried on a Sunday.
***
No, "Thespian," it is no longer considered correct to wear a straw hat
with a fur coat. Why not run the lawnmower over the astrachan collar?
***
A medical correspondent points out that wasps, gnats and midges can
be kept at a distance by using preparations of certain obnoxious
plants. There is also much to be said for the plan of making a noise
like a German.
***
The death of the "Old Lady of Charing Cross" is announced. The Old Lady
of Threadneedle Street, on the other hand, is still able to sit up and
take a note or two.
***
Internal matters are not being neglected by the House of Commons. Lord
RHONDDA on Bread and High Military Officers on Toast were the features
last week.
***
"What is a copper's 'mark'?" asked a Metropolitan magistrate the other
day, just as if he were a High Court Judge.
***
An hotel fire occurred in Brook Street last week, and we are told that
the guests left the hotel and hurried into the street. Nothing is said
as to how this happy idea originated.
***
Mexico, it appears, has arranged that future revolutions shall be held
between Saturday and Monday, the week-end being selected as the most
suitable time for business men who are assisting America in war-work.
***
At a North of England police-court last week a seven-pound piece of
cheese was alleged to have made away with a conscientious objector.
***
We are informed that the fish landed in Great Britain in 1916 weighed
8,173,639 hundredweight. The angler who killed it still sticks to the
story that he thought it was much larger than this.
***
Two brass wedding-rings have been found inside a salmon caught on the
Wye. As the fish looked extremely worried it is thought that it must
have been leading a double, or even treble, life.
***
Some consternation has been caused among food-profiteers in this country
by a recent dictum of Mr. SCHWAB, the American millionaire, to the
effect that "Honesty is the best policy."
***
In connection with the food-economy campaign a notable example has been
set by the python at the Zoo, who has decided to give up his
mid-monthly lunch.
***
Among the prisoners recently captured on the Carso is a Major who bears
a remarkable likeness to Marshal VON HINDENBURG. The unfortunate Major,
it appears, explains that it is no fault of his, being due to a terrible
accident he had when a boy.
***
A correspondent in _Folk Lore_ declares that the hedgehog is, after all,
a very lovable animal. We do not profess to be expert, but in any
comparison with other animals we imagine that the hedgehog ought to win
on points.
***
Lord NORTHCLIFFE has informed the Washington Red Cross Committee that
the War has only just begun. The United States regard it as a happy
coincidence that their entry into the War synchronises with the initial
operations.
***
The POSTMASTER-GENERAL has issued a recommendation that all eggs sent in
parcels to troops should be hard-boiled. Some difficulty has been
experienced, it is pointed out, in securing prompt delivery of portions
of uncooked eggs that may have escaped from the parcels in which they
were confined.
***
"Two privates in the Royal Welsh Fusiliers," says a news item, "cannot
speak a word of English, and their platoon-commander knows no Welsh."
Probably the platoon-sergeant knows some words that sound sufficiently
like Welsh.
***
The question of transport is officially stated to be one of the main
difficulties in connection with the beer supply. This however is
questioned by many patriotic consumers, who affirm that they are very
rarely able to get as much as they can carry.
***
The appointment of a Riot Controller for Cork and District is said to be
under consideration. Following the Indian Government's precedent as
exposed in the Mesopotamia Report, he will conduct his official business
from the Isle of Wight.
* * * * *
RUINED RAPTURE.
Through many a busy year of peace
I hoped some day, by way of beano,
To give myself a jaunt in Greece,
Famed land of HOMER (also TINO).
Full oft I dreamed how, blest by Fate,
I'd loll within some leafy hollow
With Aphrodite _téte-a-téte_
Or barter back-chat with Apollo.
Around Olympus' foot I'd roam
(Not being really fond of climbing),
Absorb romance and carry home
Increased facility at rhyming;
Those hallowed haunts of many a god
That nowadays we only read of
Would give my Pegasus the prod
He not unseldom stood in need of.
That was in Peace. And then the War
Sent me to learn within a hutment
What martial duties held in store
And what a sergeant-major's "Tut" meant;
Thence to the trenches, thence a rest,
A route-march to a wayside station,
With (every single soldier guessed)
Greece as our "unknown destination."
I saw Olympus wrapped in snow,
The clouds at rest upon its summit,
But did I thrill or long to throw
My hands athwart the lyre and strum it?
Gazing, I felt no soulful throb,
I only felt the body's inner
Cravings and said, "I 'll bet a bob
It's bully once again for dinner."
* * * * *
"Ex-King Constantino has bought a magnificent chateau called
Chartreuse, situated near Thun Castle. It belonged to Baron von
Zadlitz, a German officer, who is now in the field, and has been
empty since the beginning of the war."--_Evening Paper_.
Well, he will be able to fill himself up on the proceeds.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE LEAVE-WANGLER.]
* * * * *
[Illustration]
_Father._ "WHAT CLASS DID THEY PUT YOU IN COMING ACROSS?"
_Tommy._ "C 6."
* * * * *
HAY FEVER.
That is the twenty-seventh time to-day!
What is the use of Nobbs's Nasal Spray?
What use my aunt's "unfailing" recipes?
There _is_ no anodyne for this disease--
Thirty, I think! Another hanky, please--
A-tish-oo!
The world is gay; the bee bestrides the rose;
But I blaspheme and madly blow my nose.
For shame, O world! for shame, the heartless bee!
Your sweetest blooms are misery to me;
And as for that condemned acacia-tree--
A-tish-oo!
Oh, could I roam, contented like the sheep,
In sunlit fields where, as it is, I weep;
Oh, to be fashioned like the lower classes,
Who simply revel in the longest grasses,
While I sit lachrymose with coloured glasses--
A-tish-oo!