Various - Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, March 3rd, 1920
V >>
Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, March 3rd, 1920
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.
* * * * *
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 Curacoa."--_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.
* * * * *
[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES.
TYPICAL COSTUME FOR AN EARNEST WORKER IN THE CAUSE OF CHARITY.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.
THE RAGE EXHIBITED BY AN AUTHOR WHILE HAVING ONE OF HIS NOVELS FILMED IS
UTILISED BY THE INTELLIGENT MANAGER OF THE FILM COMPANY FOR A NEW
"THREE-REEL COMIC," ENTITLED "HOW AUTHORS WORK."]
* * * * *
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 Desiree 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.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Brown._ "WHAT DID THEY GIVE OLD SLOWCOMBE THE O.B.E. FOR?"
_Jones._ "THE 'OTHER BEGGARS' ENERGY,' I IMAGINE."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Fond Parent_ (_who has done pretty well in woollens_).
"WELL, SONNY, WE'VE DECIDED TO GIVE YOU THE BEST EDUCATION THAT MONEY CAN
BUY. AFTER ALL, YOU WON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING EXCEPT BE A GENTLEMAN."]
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
INNS OF COURT RESERVE CORPS.
A psychical seance 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.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE RETURN OF THE EX-CHAMPION.
MR. LLOYD GEORGE. "WELCOME BACK! I'VE BEEN WANTING A SPARRING PARTNER TO
GET ME INTO CONDITION; AND YOU'RE THE VERY MAN."]
* * * * *
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?"
[Illustration: THE TANK AND THE LITTLE BRICK.
(MR. CHURCHILL AND CAPTAIN WEDGWOOD BENN.)
"The tank, weighing thirty tons, is able to pass over a brick lying on the
road without crushing it. This is a very important point."--_Mr.
CHURCHILL_.]
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.
[Illustration: THE LABOUR LORD CHANCELLOR.
_A forecast._
LORD HALDANE.]
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 _debut_ 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.
[Illustration: "Whether a portrait is a work of art depends on the artist
and not on the subject painted."--_Sir A. MOND on the Imperial War Museum
Pictures_.]
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.
* * * * *
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._
* * * * *
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.
"DEAR SIR,--I have consulted an authority on this bird and find that its
bad character has brought about its practical extinction in this country
save in the mountain fastnesses of Wales and the craggy moors of Yorkshire.
I also learn that its extended wings measure thirty-six inches on an
average. I must decline to provide an asylum for such an extensive mass of
depravity."
I confess I was discouraged and also somewhat shocked. I felt Filmer should
have enlightened me more on the characteristics of his _protege_. The
episode taught me to avoid preamble in my next quest for a domicile. Also I
thought it only right to express myself with absolute frankness. The
address of a lady with a reputation for a love of animals was given to me,
and I hastened to call upon her. She answered the door herself.
"Madam," I said, "may I ask you of your kind heart to give a home to an
almost extinct bird of evil character about a yard across?"
She looked startled for a moment and then quietly closed the door.
I was still further discouraged. I felt bound in honour to comply, if
possible, with Filmer's comparatively simple request. By chance I ran
across Timberley, a man brimful of resource and suggestion. "You want a
brewery," he said; "that's the _milieu_ for a raven. To my mind no brewery
is artistically complete without one. A raven hopping about the casks gives
a _je ne sais quoi_, a _cachet_, to the premises. You should get an
introduction to a manager."
With some difficulty I did, and I waited upon him in his private office. He
seemed immersed in business and asked me to be seated in such a brusque
manner that I had no alternative but to remain standing.
"I must apologise for trespassing upon your valuable time, but it has been
suggested to me that no brewery is complete without a raven--" I began,
stammering slightly from nervousness.
"Well, we've got one. What about it?" he said.
In face of this unlooked-for development I could do nothing but bow and
retire.
After this third failure to house the bird I threw convention to the winds
and took to accosting utter strangers in the street with, "Will you have a
raven?" I went rides in trams and tubes and canvassed the passengers. "Not
to-day, thank you," was the response, save in a few instances. One man
invited me to ask him again and he would do me in. A lady to whom I
propounded the query as we were descending the moving staircase side by
side precipitated herself forward with such haste that but for the
intervening travellers she must have fallen headlong to the bottom. The
mother of a family to whom I appealed shook her head politely and said she
was obliged to me for the offer, but it was hard enough to pay for
butcher's meat; she couldn't afford poultry.