Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Vol. 150 March 8 1916 by Various Seaman Owen Editor

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I inquired as to the possibilities of recovery.

"There is hope," said the large man, "that the trouble may not last beyond the duration of the War. But we shan't feel that we've made a fair start until we've cured him of getting up in the night and tapping his artificial teeth with a button-hook. He fancies he's dictating 'Answers to Correspondents.'"

Clerical Candour.

"In order to satisfy my mind I spent over two hours in a certain cinema ... Frankly I was disappointed. I saw nothing which could in any way be called indecent."

THE WORLD SET FREE.

Long, long ago, when I had not attested, I prized the liberties of this proud race, The right of speech, from haughty rulers wrested, The right to put one's neighbours in their place; I liked to argue and I loved to pass Slighting remarks on Robert, who's an ass, To hint that Henry's manners were no class, Or simply say I did not like his face.

But things are changed. To-day I had a tussle With some low scion of an upstart line; Meagre his intellect, absurd his muscle, I should have strafed him in the days long syne; I took a First, and he could hardly parse; I have more eloquence but he more stars; Yet I must say "Yessir," and salute the swine.

And it was hard when that abrupt Staff-Major Up to the firing-line one evening came , And said quite rudely, "You are much to blame; Those beggars yonder you should enfilade." I fingered longingly a nice grenade; I said those beggars were our First Brigade, But might not call him any kind of name.

That will be great; but what if such intentions Are likewise present in the Tenth Platoon? What if some labourer of huge dimensions Meet me defenceless in a Tube saloon, And hiss his catalogue of unpaid scores, How oft I criticised his forming fours, Or prisoned him behind the Dep?t doors, Or kept him digging on the Fourth of June?

Painful. And then, when all these arm?d millions Unknot with zest the military noose, Will the whole world be full of wroth civilians, Each one exulting in a tongue let loose? And who shall picture or what bard shall pen The crowning horror which awaits us then-- That civil warfare of uncivil men In one great Armageddon of abuse?

A Pluralist.

FRANK.

In my first formal introduction to Frank he appeared, together with his clothing and various belongings, as an item in a list of things to be taken over. I knew him already by reputation, and I remembered some of the occasions when he had appeared on parade. Also I knew that two successive Company Commanders had managed in turn to exchange him with some unsuspecting newly appointed O.C. Company for something more tractable. This last process, indeed, accounted for my having to take him over instead of the mild creature with the duck-waddle action which my predecessor had ridden or, let me say, sat.

It became then my lot to take over Frank, or, to put it more correctly, I was issued with him. That is part of the military principle of fixing responsibility. Things are not issued to you; you are issued with them, and you alone are accountable. I was issued with Frank and all his harness and appointments and, incidentally, his parlour tricks. This was the formal introduction. I didn't meet him at close range until later. When I was issued with him I didn't even know his name. No previous owner had ever thought of asking it, and had they asked they would not have believed that a horse could be called Frank. On general principles it seems wrong, but on nearer acquaintance I found that Frank was exactly the name for him. The great thing about him was that if he thought a thing he said it.

It was, I remember, on the next morning that the Mess Sergeant noticed a shortage of lump sugar in one of the basins. I mention this merely because it fixes in my mind the first day on which I had a comfortable ride. Frank started out in a good temper and came home at his best pace, hoping to get some more sugar. That, at least, is how I read his meaning, and I pursued my policy of not misunderstanding him. After this he developed a parlour trick which made me quite fond of him. When I went to the stable he would put his nose round to the side pocket whore I kept the sugar. He always got some, and he knew there would always be some more when he got home.

Thus it became necessary to instruct him in topography. He quickly learned that certain turnings led to the camp, and I was reduced to subterfuges to prove to him that they did not. It was essential to go over every road at various times in opposite directions. That confused him, and though I disliked the deception I had to resort to it, with the result that Frank finally accepted me at my own fictitious valuation as a person who did not properly know his own mind.

But it took him some time to get into my ways. Once we spent twenty minutes on a small stretch of road leading from the parade ground to a railway bridge. I wanted to cross the bridge and Frank did not. I took him towards the bridge and he took me back towards the camp. This happened thirteen times. At the fourteenth there was a variation; he changed his mind and we crossed the bridge. During the twenty minutes, I remember, we had a further slight disagreement about a stick. I was glad I had brought it, and he was not. But on the other side of the bridge we let bygones be bygones. Frank had his moods, but he was always a gentleman.

He was also a soldier. His strong point really was that he was excellent on parade. He would look round, grasp the formation at a glance, and drop into his place. He was never more happy than when route-marching; never more unhappy than when compelled to break out of the line. Indeed, so much did he enjoy column of route that when off duty with two or three other horses he would play at route-marching, taking up a position in Indian file and avoiding any sort of arrangement which brought him abreast of his companions.

At last we had to part. I don't know the right way to express this. Possibly I was reissued without him; I am not sure what the process was. At any rate we separated, he remaining at the camp and I proceeding on duty to the Dep?t. I said good-bye to him and he nuzzled for the last time at my side pocket. Having munched the sugar, he turned to the more serious business of his manger. I think this must have been his way of concealing his emotion.

RAG-TIME IN THE TRENCHES.

Roll up, rally up! Stroll up, sally up! Take a tupp'ny ticket out, and help to tote the tally up! Come and see the Raggers in their "Mud and Slush" revoo. . Come and hear O'Leary in his great tin-whistle stunt; See our beauty chorus with the Sergeant in the front; Come and hear our gaggers In their "Lonely Tommy" song; Come and see the Raggers, We're the bongest of the bong.

Commercial Candour.

The Huns are so economical that they put even Truth into cold storage.

The ordinary kind being unsuited for such delicate stitchery.

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

On the Third Beading of the Consolidated Fund Bill Sir JOHN SIMON renewed his attack upon the Military Service Bill. The tribunals, he declared, were disregarding the appeal of the widow's only son; the Yellow Form, of which the late Home Secretary takes the same jaundiced view as he did of the Yellow Press, was being sent out indiscriminately to all whom it did not concern: the War Office had issued a misleading poster; and everywhere men were being "bluffed" into the Army. He himself would have been inundated with correspondence if he had not had the happy inspiration of diverting the flood into Mr. TENNANT's letter-box. Passionately he called upon the Government not to imitate Germany's brutality.

After Mr. SNOWDEN, Sir THOMAS WHITTAKER and Mr. LOUGH had reinforced Sir JOHN SIMON'S case with added instances the Government found an unexpected champion in Mr. HEALY. He was amazed to hear the late HOME SECRETARY--"one of the Ministers who made the War"--gloating over the inefficiency of the War Office at a moment when round Verdun was raging a battle in which the fate of Paris, and perhaps of London, was involved. Why had he not imitated the monumental silence of Mr. BURNS? Instead, he, the suppressor of obscure Irish newspapers, had done more to injure recruiting than any Connemara editor.

I never expected to live to hear the Bank of England described in the House of Commons as a useless institution. In Mr. HEALY'S opinion, "The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street," like the other who lived in a shoe, has too many children, and her attempt to get 190 of them exempted from military service moved him in a moment of "vituperative irrelevance," as Mr. PRINGLE subsequently described it, to say the rudest things about her financial capacity.

When Dr. MACNAMARA moved a Supplementary Estimate of ?10 for the Navy, I was reminded of PRAED'S lines "On seeing the SPEAKER asleep in his chair":--

"Hume, no doubt, will be taking the sense Of the House on a saving of thirteen pence."

A vote for ?50,000, to complete the purchase of the estate of Colonel HALL-WALKER, who has presented his racing stud to the Government, evoked some opposition and much facetiousness. Mr. ACLAND, who proposed it, did not help his case by remarking that personally he regarded racing as a low form of sport. The fact that some of the horses have been leased by the War Department to Lord LONSDALE for racing purposes "on sharing terms" caused Mr. MCNEILL to inquire whether Mr. TENNANT would act as the Ministerial tipster; and Mr. HOGGE, who displayed a knowledge of racing which will, I fear, shock the unco' guid of East Edinburgh, thought it ridiculous that Ministers should preach economy in the City and start a racing stud at Westminster.

THE ELUSIVE ONES.

A large number of claims for exemption from military service were made before the Bouverie Street Tribunal at its sittings last week.

Ike Feldmann asked for exemption on the ground that he was an agriculturalist and therefore excused under the Act. Questioned further, he stated that at the present time he was employed in making artificial onions for a firm of Bond Street milliners, but his uncle, who was wealthy, had promised to buy him a farm as soon as the weather got warmer. His application was rejected.

William Smith stated that he was the President, Treasurer and Secretary of the Anglo-Chinese Industries Association, Limited, and urged that unless he was exempted the company must inevitably go into liquidation, there being no one else familiar with its business. Answering a question by the Chairman, applicant stated that the company was formed to do a general mercantile business, but that at the present time its activities were confined to manicuring Pekingese pugs. Asked whether this work could not be done by women, applicant stated that it had been tried, but that women seemed to get on the nerves of the dogs, causing their hair to fall out. The application was refused.

An appeal was made on behalf of George W. Hopper , an employee of the West End Delicacy Company, a concern engaged in the business of supplying steak-and-kidney puddings to the large hotels. These delicacies, the Secretary of the company explained, weighed about a ton each, and Hopper was the only man who was strong enough to lift them out of the ovens into the delivery wagon.

The Secretary of the company stated as an additional ground for exemption that Hopper had a wooden leg and bronchitis. He was put back one group to give time for medical treatment of leg.

James Ponks , who appeared somewhat dazed at his surroundings, explained in a confidential whisper that he was the caretaker of the municipal macaroni beds in Regent's Park. Asked if he would not like to fight for his country, he replied that he would, only MARTIN Luther had appeared to him in a dream and ordered him to go into the dressed poultry business. Referred to the Medical authorities.

Jim Bounce stated that he had a conscientious objection to fighting. He didn't like the Germans, but recognised that they were his spiritual brothers.

Owing to the unsatisfactory nature of the applicant's reply his appeal was refused.

Arthur Small , proprietor of a fish and chips emporium, stated that he was a widower and the sole support of his mother-in-law, two married sisters-in-law, their husbands and their thirteen small children.

Applicant hastened to explain that he did not ask for exemption as he felt that his first duty was to his country. He would like, however, a week in which to say good-bye to his relations by marriage. The request was granted, the Chairman stating that the attitude of Small, who was sacrificing everything for duty, did him the greatest credit.

A Smooth Passage.

As the above advertisement appeared several times we are afraid the gentleman must have been regarded as almost too good to be true.

THE DUG-OUT DOMINIE.

Shortsighted, undersized and weak, Intolerant yet self-distrusting, There could not well have been a "beak" Less fitted for the nice adjusting Of his peculiar point of view To that of forty-odd years later, Less eager to acclaim the New, Less apt for Georgian tastes to cater.

He strove, 'tis true, to keep abreast Of MASEFIELD'S grim poetic frenzy, Sought Truth in WELLS, and did his best To like the Oxford of MACKENZIE; With YEATS he wandered in the Void, Tasted of SHAW'S dramatic jalap, Then turned with rapture unalloyed To DICKENS, THACKERAY and TROLLOPE.

His idols mostly left them cold-- BAGEHOT, MATT. ARNOLD, SCOTT and MILTON; But they were quick in taking hold Of PRAED and J.K.S. and HILTON; And once undoubtedly he scored When, on a day of happy omen, He introduced them to A. WARD, The wisest of the tribe of showmen.

But still his fervours left them calm-- Emotion they considered freakish;-- He felt with many an inward qualm That he was thoroughly un-beakish; His mood perplexed them; he was half Provocative, half deferential, Too anxious to provoke a laugh, Too vague where logic was essential.

So, struggling on to bridge the gaps That seventeen from sixty sunder, And causing at his best, perhaps, A mild and intermittent wonder, At least he recognised the truth That there are other ways of earning The sympathy of clear-eyed youth Than by a mere parade of learning.

And yet I think his pupils may In after years, at camp or college, Admit that in his rambling way He added to their stock of knowledge; And, as they ruefully recall His "jaws" on CLAUSEWITZ and JOMINI, On BALZAC, HEINE and JEAN PAUL, Think kindly of their dug-out dominie.

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