Various - Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, August 25th, 1920
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, August 25th, 1920
Image a PREMIER arrived at the end of all the beautiful sights to be seen
locally, inured to all the magnificent scenery around him, and no longer
attracted by the novelty of life abroad, longing, it may be, for just one
touch of home. Then is the moment for the little surprise I am keeping for
him up my sleeve. "Come along to a place close by," I shall say to him, for
I see myself with the whole business well in my hands now; "come along to a
village I know, whose very name will make you feel at home."
Just outside Luzern we stop at Meggen, but it's not that. Kussnacht gets us
well abroad again, and there is nothing particularly homely about Immensee,
Arth-Goldau, Steinen, Schwyz or Brunnen. In fact I can see my PREMIER
getting suspicious and wondering what new political move this may be, when
suddenly there will burst upon his astonished gaze--
FLUELLEN.
Let us leave him there, alone with his emotions, into which it would be
impertinent to probe. I may tell you quietly apart that there is a
difference of opinion between me and _Amtliches Schweizerisches Kursbuch_
about this name. He wants to ration the l's, but, having been there and
heard the name pronounced, I have refused to be taught how to spell a good
Welsh name by a darned foreigner. If we are going to have any nonsense
about it I have said that I shall stand out for the proper, full and
uncorrupt spelling: FLLEWELLYN.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "'ERE--CHUCK IT, MISSUS. WHY CAN'T YER LET US FIGHT IN
PEACE?"]
* * * * *
"'That,' declared Mr. Lloyd George amid loud cheers, 'is one of the
most formidable challenges ever given to democracy. Without hesitation
every Government must accept that challenge.' 'Certainly we will,'
retorted the Prime Minister."--_Evening Paper._
No wonder Mr. LLOYD GEORGE wants a holiday if he has begun to talk to
himself.
* * * * *
"A telegram from Paris says: It is announced here that an agreement has
been concluded between France, Great Britain and Italy regarding the
delimitation of the open golf championship."--_Provincial Paper._
It will be noticed that America seems once more to have held aloof from the
councils of the Allies.
* * * * *
"TO HIM THAT HATH ..."
It was Butterington who first put me up to the idea. I asked him a simple
question about the habits of the Sigalion Boa, a certain worm in whose ways
I was taking an interest at the time, and he at once replied that he
himself was not in the fur line.
"Whenever," he went on, "I require information on any subject I apply to my
bank. Why don't you do the same?"
This opened up an entirely new prospect. To me my bank was an institution
which kept my accounts, issued money and, on occasion, lent it. It never
entered my head that it was also ready to perform the functions of an
inquiry office and information bureau.
Previous communications from me had always begun, "Sir, with reference to
my overdraft"--you know the sort of thing one generally writes to banks;
expostulating, tactful, temporising letters.
This time however I addressed them in different vein. Rejecting all mention
of overdrafts as being in doubtful taste, I wrote:--
SIR,--I shall be greatly obliged if you will kindly inform me, at your
early convenience:
(1) Whether it is a fact that the African rhinoceros has no hair on the
hind legs?
(2) Whether, in the case of my backing Pegasus in the first race, 'any to
come' on Short Time in the fourth, and Short Time not starting, I am
entitled to my winnings over Pegasus?
(3) Whether, after perusing seventeen favourable reports from mining
engineers and eighty-seven enthusiastic directors' speeches, I am justified
in assuming that gold actually does exist in the Bonanzadorado mine?
Yours faithfully,
THESIGER CHOLMONDELEY BEAUCHAMP.
After some delay they answered as follows:--
SIR,--We have much pleasure in replying to the queries contained in your
favour, of the 27th ult.:--
(1) Yes; (2) Yes; (3) No.
Assuring you always of our best endeavours in your service,
We remain, Yours faithfully,
_per pro_ The Cosmopolitan Bkg. Corpn.
C.O. SHINE.
So far so good. The Bank's manner left nothing to be desired, and its
replies were certainly to the point. I began to think of Mr. C.O. Shine as
my personal friend and speculated as to whether his first name were Claude
or Clarence.
During the following week, whenever I became curious on any subject, I made
notes of fresh queries to propound. After accumulating a sufficient number
I again wrote to the Bank. I forget the exact points upon which I required
information; one of them, I fancy, was the conjectured geologic age of the
Reichardtite strata. Anyhow I got no answer to any of them.
Instead, three days later, I received the following letter:--
SIR,--We regret to announce that, owing to a clerical error in this office,
your account was last month wrongly credited with a cheque for L13,097 5s.
10d. which was made payable to another client of the same name.
Adjustments have now been made which reveal a balance on your account of
L110 11s. 3d. _in our favour_. We trust that you will find it convenient to
cover this overdraft at an early date.
With reference to your letter of the 19th inst. containing assorted
inquiries, we beg to intimate that we can in no circumstances undertake to
advise clients on general matters which lie outside the scope of our
interests.
Yours faithfully,
_per pro_ The Cosmopolitan Bkg. Corpn.
CHARLES O. SHINE.
And this time C.O.S. did not even "remain" in the plural.
I at once showed Butterington this offensive communication.
"Well," said he, "of course they won't answer communications unless you
have a balance."
That is the way rich men talk.
"I am never without one," I replied with dignity, "on one side or the
other."
"There you differ from your namesake, whose balance is clearly always on
the right side. Hence that first kindly letter, addressed to you in error."
* * * * *
THE ROMANCE OF ADVERTISEMENT.
The following items, culled from recent issues of _The Daily Lure_, show
where you should go to find really interesting, stimulating and flat-
catching notices:--
Partner, with not less than five thousand pounds, wanted for a wild-duck
farm in the island of Mull. Must be a man of iron constitution; Gaelic
speaker and teetotaler preferred.
* * *
Wanted, a cheap Desert Island, with a good water-supply and home comforts,
by a Georgian poet weary of the racket of Hammersmith.
* * *
Complete suits of armour, guaranteed bottle-proof, ten guineas each,
suitable for elderly pedestrians in charabanc areas.
* * *
Madame Bogolubov, Crystal-gazer in ordinary to the ex-King CONSTANTINE, is
prepared for a small fee to advise intending explorers, prospectors or
treasure-seekers as to suitable spots for excavation, oil-boring, etc.
* * *
Disused Martello Tower on the Irish coast, fifty miles from a police
barrack, offered cheap as an appropriate basis of observation to psychic
enthusiasts anxious to study the ways of leprechauns, banshees, etc.
* * *
Genuine portraits by VAN DYCK, VELASQUEZ and REMBRANDT must be sold
immediately to pay a debt of honour. Price thirty shillings each, or would
take part payment in pre-war whisky.
* * *
Semi-paralysed Yugo-Slav professor, speaking seventeen languages, will give
lessons to neo-plutocrats in the correct pronunciation of the names of all
the foreign singers, dancers and artists performing or exhibiting in
London.
* * *
Persons interested in edible fungi may be glad to take shares in a fungus
plantation about to be started in the neighbourhood of Toller Porcorum,
Dorchester.
* * * * *
THE RETURN OF THE COLONEL.
House, the enigmatic Colonel, WILSON'S right-hand man in France
When the PRESIDENT was leading Peace's great Parisian dance,
Once again returns to Europe as a journalist free-lance.
He's a most sagacious person, indisposed to carp or grouse,
So we hope he'll be successful, aided by his tact and _nous_,
In upholding Mr. WILSON, _not_ in bringing down the House.
* * * * *
THE UBIQUITOUS SCOT.
From _The Times'_ summary of news:--
"Our Constantinople correspondent, in a message reviewing the situation
in Armenia, states that the Armenians have captured the ancient town of
Nakhitchevan, where a Tartan Government had been set up."
Small wonder that, people complain that no place is safe from Scotland's
activities. Meanwhile there seems a likelihood of a Tarzan Government being
set up in the film world.
* * * * *
From Mrs. ASQUITH'S reminiscences:
"One day after this conversation he [the late Lord Salisbury] came to
see me in Cavendish Square, bringing with him a signed photograph of
himself. This was in the year 1904, at the height of the controversy
over Protection."--_Sunday Times._
As Lord SALISBURY is generally supposed to have died in 1903, Sir ARTHUR
CONAN DOYLE has been requested to investigate the incident.
* * * * *
THE EVIL THAT MEN DO.
[Illustration: THE LAST MAN WAS IN AND WITH ONLY ONE RUN WANTED--]
[Illustration: SMITH, OF ALL PEOPLE, DROPPED A CATCH.]
[Illustration: HE STOLE AWAY--]
[Illustration: BUT HIS SIN FOLLOWED HIM.]
[Illustration: HE DECIDED--]
[Illustration: TO LEAVE THE COUNTRY.]
[Illustration: AFTER MANY YEARS HE RETURNED.]
[Illustration: "GOOD HEAVENS, SMITH, I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU SINCE YOU DROPPED
THAT CATCH AT THE CIRCLE."]
[Illustration: "YES, I ONCE SAW HIM PLAY WHEN I WAS QUITE A LAD. ON THAT
OCCASION HE HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO DROP A CATCH."]
* * * * *
AT THE PLAY.
"HIS LADY FRIENDS."
The humours of the average farce are so elemental that in the matter of its
setting there is small need to worry about geographical or ethnical
considerations. Of course, if its _locale_ is French you may have to modify
its freedom of thought and speech, but with a very little accommodation to
national proprieties you can either transplant the setting of your play or
you can leave it where it was and make use of the convention that for stage
purposes all Frenchmen have a perfect command of our tongue and idiom. But
to take a frankly English novel by an English writer, adapt it, as Messrs.
NYITRAY and MANDEL have done, for the American stage with an American
setting, and then bring it over here and produce it with only one or two
actors in the whole cast to illustrate the purity of the American accent,
is perhaps to presume rather too much on our generous lack of intelligence.
However we have got Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY back again and that is what really
matters. As a philanderer protesting innocence in the face of damnatory
facts we know him well enough; but here we have him innocent and ingenuous
as an angel, yet hard put to it to convince anyone but himself of his
guilelessness. A millionaire (dollars) with a wife of economic disposition,
who declines to spend his money for him, he feels drawn to a course of
knight-errantry and rides abroad in search of damsels in pecuniary
distress, with the avowed object of "spreading a little sunshine."
[Illustration: "I want to spread a little sunshine."
_James Smith_ ... Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY.
_Eva Johns_ ... Miss JOAN BARRY.]
This quest, as you will easily understand, was not a very difficult one for
a man prepared to be imposed upon by just any adventuress, and in the
neighbourhood of his various business-branches, San Francisco, Washington,
Boston, he soon found a ready channel for the employment of his superfluous
wealth. The natural affection, however, which his generosity inspired was
not utilised by him, and you must try to believe that, in spite of the most
sinister appearances, he remained a faithful husband.
With the methods by which he appeased his wife's suspicions I will not
trouble you, partly because I could not follow them myself, owing to the
obscurity of the plot at its most critical moment. Enough that all ends
well with her firmly-expressed resolution that in the future she will
herself do all the necessary squandering.
Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY as _James Smith_ was irresistible in most of the old
ways and a few new ones. The play would have gone poorly without him, in
spite of the piquancy of Miss JOAN BARRY as a flapper, the fourth and final
recipient of his chaste bounty. Miss JESSIE BATEMAN as _Mrs. James Smith_
had no chance till just at the end with the turning of the worm. To the
part of _Lucille Early_--the _Earlys_, as a couple, were designed to
contrast with the _Smiths_, the wife in this case spending the money which
the husband hadn't got--Miss ATHENE SEYLER, who was meant for better
things, gave a certain distinction, but perhaps "pressed" a little too
much. Mr. JAMES CAREW, who played _Edward Early_, was conspicuous as the
sole male representative of the American language in this American play.
The fleeting visions that we had of Miss MONA HARRISON as a refractory and
venal cook excited general approval. The three _protegees_ of _James Smith_
were only faintly distinguishable in their rather crude banality.
The fun of the farce differed from that of most farces in depending less
upon situations than upon dialogue. The First Act, with the situations
still to come, was the best. I have not had the good fortune to read Miss
EDGINGTON'S novel, but one might be permitted to assume, from the
excellence of much of the wit, that, whatever the play may in other
respects have lacked of subtlety or refinement, such defect was no fault of
hers. What Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY himself thought of it all I cannot say, but
the play did not begin to compare, either for irony or singleness of
motive, with the last two in which he figured, _The Naughty Wife_ and _Home
and Beauty._ He clearly enjoyed his own part, but it was rather noticeable
that in his brief speech at the fall of the curtain he confined himself to
a personal acknowledgment of the public's sympathy with him in his illness
and their loyalty throughout his career, and made no reference to the play
or its authors.
O.S.
* * * * *
A SUPER-SURPRISE.
I have not seen the stalking
By a rabbit of a bear,
Nor yet an oyster walking
Sedately up the stair;
But a marvel as amazing
Inspires these doggerel rhymes,
For I've read a leader praising
The PREMIER in _The Times_.
* * * * *
A HOUSE-WARMING.
"Considerable damage was done by fire at ---- Cottage on Wednesday
evening. The stairs, part of the floor, doors, furniture, etc., were
destroyed.
---- presided at the piano, and Mrs. ---- presided over the
refreshments. 'God save the King' was sung at the close of the
enjoyable day."--_Local Paper_.
* * * * *
The Labour "Council of Action" have kindly stated that they are "content to
leave the French Government to the French people." They are however
reserving the right to leave the British Government to the Bolshevists.
* * * * *
"We must repeat the Scots proverb that--'Delays are dangerous.'"--
_Sunday Paper._
Or, as DRYDEN says in his Address to a Haggis, "De'il tak' the hindmost."
* * * * *
"The proportion of sane to insane persons in civilized countries is
about one to 300."--_Canadian Paper_.
Surely Carlyle said something very like this years ago.
* * * * *
COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.
"RAINCOATS AT LESS THAN COST PRICE LAST 3 DAYS."--_Advert. in
Provincial Paper_.
* * * * *
"Lady has Left-off Clothing; privately."--_Provincial Paper._
Of course. That goes without saying.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Trainer_ (_to Irish apprentice who has finished among the
"also ran"_). "WHY DIDN'T YOU HANG ON TO THE FAVOURITE? DIDN'T I TELL YOU
YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE HE WAS AFRAID OF."
_Apprentice._ "THAT'S JUST IT, SORR. 'TWAS THE WAY HE WAS SO AFRAID OF ME,
WHIN WE CAME INTO THE STRAIGHT, HE JUST FLED AWAY FROM ME."]
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
Those who appreciate the short story of quality will be pleasantly stirred
by the announcement of _Island Tales_ (MILLS AND BOON), a posthumous volume
containing what is probably the last writing of the late JACK LONDON. I can
say at once that these seven stories show his art in one aspect of its
best. Not here the LONDON, whom some of us might prefer, of the strenuous
adventure-tale, with whom there was no respite till, at the end of anything
up to a hundred sinew-cracking pages, we won through to the appointed end.
That South Sea atmosphere, so insidiously appealing to the literary
temperament (from STEVENSON to STACPOOLE you can see it at work) has
steeped these tales in the lotus-leisure of perpetual afternoon, so that
the action of them tends to become overlaid by slow reflective talk, old
memories and the sense of ancient things. Most notable is this in the
first, where the actual romance, quick, human and haunting, does not so
much as show its face till after forty pages of old-time local colour.
Perhaps of all the seven I myself would prefer the last--"The Kanaka Surf,"
a slight intrigue, but a perfect epic of such bathing as, I suppose, can be
understood nowhere but on these enchanted coasts. To read it is to realise
what a loss we suffer in one who could put such jewelled loveliness on to
the printed page--and what another loss in not seeing the original for
ourselves. I suppose no tribute to the power of genius could be more
eloquent.
* * * * *
After the German Revolution of 1918, KARL KAUTSKY, a prominent Socialist,
was appointed by the new Government to examine and edit the documents in
the Berlin Foreign Office relating to the outbreak of the War. His work was
completed in time for the Peace Conference and would, he believes, if
published at that time, have convinced the Allies that the new German
Government ought not to be made responsible for the sins of the old one.
But it would also have shown that the old Government was the main
instigator of the War, and that the German people, having danced to the
tune, even if they did not call for it, deserved to pay the piper. For that
reason, perhaps, the German Government withheld Herr KAUTSKY'S revelations.
Now he has published them on his own account, under the title, _The Guilt
of William Hohenzollern_ (SKEFFINGTON). A more damning indictment has never
been drawn. From the moment of the ARCHDUKE'S assassination the KAISER and
his advisers determined to make it the pretext for destroying Serbia, and
crushing Russia and France if they dared to interfere. BISMARCK once said
that "never are so many lies told as before a war, during an election and
after a shoot." His own manipulation of the Ems telegram was venial
compared to the manner in which the German diplomatists, egged on by their
ruler--whose _marginalia_ on the despatches furnish the most amusing
reading in the volume--used all the arts of chicanery to deceive Europe as
to their real intentions and to defeat the efforts of England--on whose
neutrality they confidently counted--to secure a peaceful settlement.
Though primarily addressed to the German proletariat, Herr KAUTSKY'S book
has its value for all of us--"lest we forget."
* * * * *
On page 103 of _The White Hen_ (MILLS AND BOON) we read that the _Duke_
laughed softly. "'It is just like a romance,' he sighed happily;" which was
precisely where, without intending it, the _Duke_ placed his ducal finger
upon the weak spot in the whole business. Because if ever a story was "like
a romance," and like nothing else on earth, and filled with characters each
and all pledged to preserve its unreality at all costs, here is that tale.
The plot, of which there is a generous allowance, turns chiefly upon the
problem, when is a white hen less a hen than a jewel casket? Answer, when
she has swallowed, and is erroneously thought to have retained, a famous
diamond, upon which an impoverished but noble (see above) French family had
depended for the _dot_ that should enable their daughter to wed a
plutocratic but otherwise detestable suitor. I take it you will hardly need
telling that this is the moment chosen by Romance, under the expert
guidance of Miss PHYLLIS CAMPBELL, to bring along an even more wealthy
young American, mistaken (of course) for his own chauffeur and working such
havoc upon the heart of the heroine that, when the latter accidentally
recovered the diamond from its feathered _cache_, she very sensibly decided
to say nothing about it. Whereupon, because the other characters,
especially an unpleasant Duchess, were unaware that, as the shop
announcements say, "Poultry was Down Again," much profitable confusion
resulted, though nothing to impugn the justice of the ducal verdict quoted
above. So that, if your taste jumps with that of his Grace, you also can
"sigh happily;" otherwise you will perhaps omit the adverb--and select a
story less exclusively romantic.
* * * * *
There is a spirit of Yorkshire and a spirit, I suppose, characteristic of
Suburbia, and on the outskirts of certain large manufacturing towns there
must exist a formidable blending of these two. To express the double
flavour of this essence requires, I should say, a subtler and more
elaborate method than Mr. W. RILEY has attempted to use in _A Yorkshire
Suburb_ (JENKINS). He has imagined for the purpose of these sketches an
architect, _Murgatroyd_, who in planning most of the houses in the locality
has attempted to express in brick and stone the characters of their several
occupants. This is a device which becomes rather monotonous as the book
proceeds, besides imposing a series of strains which neither architecture
nor credulity can easily bear. Since these are rather superior
suburbanites, dialect is for the most part absent, and it is hard to feel
that they are very different people from those who live about the borders
of Manchester or London; a character like _Mrs. Flitch_, for instance, who
is angelic to behold but a spiteful gossip at heart, is, alas! to be found
anywhere. And where the dialect does crop out it does not seem to be
dependent on suburban soil for its raciness. I don't doubt the accuracy of
Mr. RILEY'S Yorkshiremanship, but I do think he has under-estimated the
difficulty of localising the peculiar genius of villadom.
* * * * *
Though billed by her publisher as a merciless analyst, Mrs. MORDAUNT is
really (if you want to fling this kind of title about) an eclectic
synthetist or synthetic symbolist. Her wicked people are prodigiously
wicked, wickedness personified, in fact; her good folk are noble-hearted
without stint or measure. I don't personally think that anybody could be
quite so completely and gratuitously evil as good-looking _Charles Hoyland_
in _The Little Soul_ (HUTCHINSON); or, being so, could possibly be
recommended, still less engaged, as tutor to a sensitive youth; or, being
so engaged, tolerated for two days. He certainly could not hold down his
job long enough to corrupt his pupil, _Anthony Clayton_, by exchanging
souls with him under the nose of mad but perceptive _Mrs. Clayton_ and sane
sister _Diana_. This conspicuously chaste _Diana_ is an attractive person,
and so is the recklessly charitable _Dr. McCabe_, her appropriate mate, who
first had to fly the country through helping a chorus-girl out of a
difficulty and then (more or less) won the War by revolutionising
bacteriology or something like that. However, Mrs. MORDAUNT interests
because she is so palpably interested herself.
* * * * *
The scenes of _Lure of Contraband_ (JARROLDS) are laid in the Devonshire of
some hundred years ago. It is, as its title suggests, a tale of smuggling,
and it contains an account of a hand-to-hand fight between the hero and the
villain which I advise all members of the National Sporting Club to read.
They may be shocked by the tactics of the villain, but at the same time
they will see what a bout of fisticuffs meant in those days. Mr. J. WEARE
GIFFARD is a master of atmosphere, and I, at any rate, lived happily in his
Appledore, and imagined myself drinking prime (and cheap) French brandy in
the Beaver Inn; while _Lieutenant Perkins_, who commanded the "preventive
men," sat in his tall-backed chair by the fireplace and kept his eyes and
ears open to detect anything that was suspicious. But he was not foolish
enough to ask many questions about the French brandy. An excellent yarn,
simply and straight-forwardly told.