Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 159, December 1, 1920
V >> Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 159, December 1, 1920PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 159.
December 1st, 1920.
CHARIVARIA.
ACCORDING to _The Evening News_, lambs have already put in an
appearance in Dorset. People who expect the POET LAUREATE to rush to
the spot will be bitterly disappointed.
* * *
"What was a golden eagle doing in Lincolnshire?" asks "L.G.M." in _The
Daily Mail_. We never answer these personal questions.
* * *
The Public Libraries Committee of West Ham has declined to purchase
_The Autobiography of Margot Asquith_. It would just serve them right
if the publisher sent them a copy.
* * *
Sir R. BADEN-POWELL recently declared that men contemplating matrimony
would do well to notice whether their prospective brides gave an
inside or an outside tread. We still maintain that the safest course
is to remain single and not be trodden on either way.
* * *
The report that a British soldier has recently discovered a genuine
specimen of a small war, in which Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL had no hand
whatever, is now regarded as untrustworthy.
* * *
A Scotsman knocked down by a car in New York was given a glass of
water and quickly regained consciousness. He is now making inquiries
concerning the number of times one has to be knocked down in order to
get a drop of spirit.
* * *
Sea-gulls have been observed near the Willesden public parks. It is
assumed that they didn't know it was Willesden.
* * *
A clothing firm advertises suits to fit any figure. It is not known
what eventually happened to the man who asked them to supply him with
a suit for a figure round about thirty shillings.
* * *
An express train recently crashed through the closed gates of a
level-crossing in Yorkshire. As the driver did not pull up in order to
see what damage he had done, it is supposed that he was originally a
motorist.
* * *
Another walk from London to Brighton is being organised. It is
hoped that this habit will ultimately bring down the high cost of
travelling.
* * *
The Hammersmith Council, says a news item, has placed an order for
tiles in Belgium. Another shrewd stroke at the Sandringham hat.
* * *
"Trade combinations," declares Sir ROBERT HORNE, "are not responsible
for the increased cost of living." We agree. The struggle for our last
shilling between the dogged-as-does-it butcher and the grocer who
never knows when he is beaten is _a outrance_.
* * *
Next year is Census year, and people are kindly requested to be born
early in order to avoid the rush at the last moment.
* * *
A new bathing-suit invented by an official of the Royal Army Clothing
Department is claimed to make drowning impossible. It is said to fill
a long-felt want among young kittens.
* * *
Should this bathing-suit fail to save any person from drowning he can
call at the office and have his money back.
* * *
We are asked to deny the rumour said to be current in Manchester to
the effect that the PRIME MINISTER was contemplating publishing a
Northern edition of his New World.
* * *
"To be happy, marry a brown-eyed girl," says _The Daily Graphic_. A
correspondent writes to say that he invariably does.
* * *
"My lodger," said a complainant at Clerkenwell Police Court,
"threatens to tear me up into pieces." It was pointed out to him that
this would be a breach of the law.
* * *
During a duel on the cliffs near Boulogne one of the combatants
deliberately fired his revolver into the sea, whereupon the other
immediately fired into the air. There seems to be no end to the
dangers which beset submarine-sailors and airmen.
* * *
A few days ago an angler at Southend-on-Sea fished up a silver chain
purse containing four one-pound notes. His claim that a large leather
wallet containing several fivers and a diamond ring broke the line and
got away after a terrific struggle is being received with the usual
caution.
* * *
The many critics of the POSTMASTER-GENERAL should remember that
telephones are all right if people would only let them alone.
* * *
Our heart goes out to the veteran philosopher who, when caught
climbing apple-trees in a farmer's orchard, pleaded that he had been
tampering with a thyroid gland.
* * *
Five million typhoid germs, the property of Mr. JOHN GIBBON, are said
to be at large in Philadelphia, according to _The Daily Express_. One
of them is said to have got away disguised as a measle.
* * *
According to _The Daily Mail_ a panic was recently caused in a
Manchester tea-room by a rat which took refuge in the leg of a
gentleman's trousers. This may not mean that the need of a new style
of rat-proof trouser has attracted the interest of Carmelite House
publicity agents, but we have our apprehensions.
* * *
"Hard work will kill no one," declares a literary editor. Most people,
of course, prefer an occupation with a spice of danger about it.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Son._ "MUVVER, TELL ME 'OW FARVER GOT TER KNOW YER."
_Mother._ "ONE DYE I FELL INTO THE WATER AN' 'E JUMPED IN AN' FISHED
ME AHT."
_Son_ (_thoughtfully_). "H'M, THET'S FUNNY; 'E WON'T LET ME LEARN TER
SWIM."]
* * * * *
"Madame ----, Dressmaker, Milliner, and Ladies' making paths, tree
lifting; planting; would suit nursery."--_Provincial Paper._
But would she do plain sowing?
* * * * *
=THE STANDARD GOLF-BALL.=
I do not want a standard ball,
So many to the pound;
Whether its girth is trim and svelte
Or built to take an out-size belt,
I hardly seem to care at all
So long as it is round.
But it appears to my poor wit
That we might well contrive
A means by which the merest babe
Would hold his own with MITCHELL (ABE),
If we could have a standard _hit_
(Especially the drive).
I want a limit made to bar
The unrestricted whack
(A hundred yards I think should be
The length on which we might agree),
And if you pushed the ball too far
You'd have to bring it back.
And I should love a standard _lie_.
A ball inside a cup
Or latent under sand or whin
Hampers my progress toward the pin;
It would improve my game if I
Could lift and tee it up.
But most, when tongues of golfers wag,
Talking their dreadful shop
Of rotten luck and stymies laid
And chip-approaches, TAYLOR-made--
Oh, then I want a standard _gag_
To make the blighters stop.
O. S.
* * * * *
=THE LANGUAGE FOR LOGIC.=
"Very well," I said, "if Jones is laid up I'll go round myself."
Our French visitor chuckled quietly and then shrugged his shoulders by
way of apology.
"Pardon," he murmured with the most disarming politeness, "but your
English language it is so veray funny, and I 'ave not yet become quite
used to it. Is it not that it lack the accuracy, what you call the
logic, of the French?"
"Indeed," I said, without the least interest.
But my wife was all enthusiasm. She clapped her hands in delighted
agreement. "M. du Val is quite right, Dickie," she said. "We are a
frightfully illogical lot, aren't we? I mean, the French are able to
say just exactly what they mean."
"Your reinforcement, Madame, it completes my victory," replied the
Frenchman with a graceful gesture. "_Voyez, M'sieu'_," he added,
turning to me, "you 'ave just said zat your friend is laid _up_, when
the unfortunate truth is zat he is laid _down_, and because of zat you
will encircle, surround, make a tour of your person."
"There, you see," said my wife flatly, "it's all utterly illogical.
Think how logical the French are."
"Well, let us work it out," I said in hearty agreement. "As a start
I solemnly declare that the French are not so logical as they don't
think."
"As they _don't_ think?" repeated my wife in surprise.
"Ah!" I retorted, "you are not so observant as you might not be. I was
merely giving you a little French idiom, 'logically' and 'accurately
done into English.'"
"Mister," I next asked our ally, "your visit to England, will she be
prolonged?"
"Who's the lady?" interrupted my wife.
"M. du Val's visit, of course, dear," I informed her. "You forget that
the French are particularly logical with their genders."
"M'sieu'!" murmured the guest, rather puzzled.
"I asked," I went on for M. du Val's edification, "because if you
stay long enough you may have the pleasure of meeting the parents of
Mistress my wife. They are coming to the house of us next month. His
father is extremely anxious to see her daughter, whom he has not seen
since his wedding--"
"Whom in the world are you talking about?" muttered my wife.
"Monsieur will readily understand," I said wickedly, "that I allude
to my wife and their parents. I hope they will bring his brother with
them."
"'Her,' you should say," my wife put in with the suspicion of a snap.
"There's only Johnny and me."
"It was of Johnny I spoke," I assured her. "And, by the way, if you
haven't heard the latest gossip it may interest you to hear that
the young rascal has formed an attachment, and is very proud of
her _fiancee_. She is an awfully pretty girl and quite athletic as
well--in fact, his arm is not nearly so small as Johnny's isn't, and
his carriage is perfect. Their eyes are lovely, while a poet would
rave about his sweet nose, her rosebud mouth and their longs blacks
hairs. Their shoes--"
"Oh, stop!" cried my wife. "You're muddling me all up. Are you talking
about Johnny or--"
"Name of a pipe, my cabbage," I said, determined to give her logic
with swear-words and endearments as well, "where has your reasoning
gone to? Any logical Frenchman would tell you at once that I wasn't
talking about Johnny, but about her girl. As I was saying, their shoes
have each a dinky Gibson bow on her."
"M'sieu'," reflected M. du Val in his polite way, "I begin to think
zat you are getting ze advantage over me."
"Don't take any notice of him, Mosseer," pleaded my wife indignantly;
"he's only pulling your leg."
"Pulling my--?" The Frenchman cogitated for a minute; then he
understood and smiled in a superior way again. "All the same," he
murmured quietly, "we French 'ave not _all_ ze illogicalness, _n'est
ce pas_?"
"Not quite all," I cheerfully agreed. "By the way, would you like to
come with us this afternoon to the great Review in Hyde Park? Her
Majesty the KING will be there, also the QUEEN and very likely His
Royal Highness Princess MARY--"
"I come wiz muchness of pleasure," assented our guest very hurriedly.
Then, being a thorough little sportsman, he added with a bow:--
"If M'sieu' could persuade _'er_ wife to wear _'is_ new 'at, so veray
charming?"
* * * * *
=Another Apology Wanted.= "AN ATTRACTIVE EVENT AT ---- CHAPEL.
LADY ABSENT FOR FIRST TIME FOR FIFTY YEARS." _Provincial Paper._
* * * * *
"Dogs frequently go straight to destruction in this way, but an
official of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Animals
told an _Evening News_ representative he did not think they had
suicidal intentions."--_Evening News._
If they had there would be less need for the Society.
* * * * *
"Persian Rugs for Sale by gentleman recently returned from Persia;
various designs, old and modern; no dealers; preferably after six
evenings."--_Daily Paper._
This gentleman seems to have brought back with him the methods of the
Oriental bazaar. Six evenings is about the average time for adjusting
a bargain.
* * * * *
[Illustration: =BALM FOR THE SICK MAN.=
THE TURK (_after reading report from Greece_). "WELL DID THE INFIDEL
SAY, 'WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT HONEST MEN COME BY THEIR OWN'!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Parent (after tour of inspection of Art school)._
"YES, I THINK THIS WILL DO. I'LL SEND MY DAUGHTER HERE. YOUR
VENTILATION SEEMS GOOD."]
* * * * *
=UNAUTHENTIC IMPRESSIONS.=
=IV.--DR. ADDISON.=
The ridiculous tradition of government by K. C.'s has for some time
past been broken down, and quite a number of our present Ministers
have never taken silk in their lives, except from cocoons in a
match-box. There is at least one business man in the Cabinet, and even
the LORD CHANCELLOR, great lawyer though he is, is almost equally
renowned as a horseman. "He sits the Woolsack," a hard-riding Peer has
said of him, "almost as though he were part of it."
Of this tendency to break away from the Bar Dr. ADDISON is one of the
pleasantest examples. We Englishmen surely owe as much to our great
physicians as to our great lawyers, and in some cases indeed the
fees are even higher. After the Demosthenic periods and Ciceronian
verbosity of some of our previous rulers Dr. ADDISON'S bright bedside
manner with an ailing or moribund Bill is a refreshing spectacle. The
shrewd face under the shock of white hair is too well known to need
description. The small black bag and the slight bulge in the top-hat,
caused by the stethoscope, are equally familiar. Nor is there wanting
in Dr. ADDISON that touch of firmness which is so necessary to a
good practitioner and in his case comes partly, no doubt, from his
Lincolnshire origin, for he was born in the county which has already
produced such men as Sir ISAAC NEWTON, the late Lord TENNYSON, M.
WORTH of Paris, the present Governor of South Australia and HEREWARD
THE WAKE.
None but the robustest of officials is allowed to direct the affairs
of the new Ministry of Health. The patron saint of its Chief is St.
Pancreas and his eupepsia is reflected in his subordinates. His junior
clerks whistle continuously, his liftmen yodel, his typists sing. Of
his own official methods I have been privileged to obtain the report
of an eye-witness. Let us suppose that, as frequently happens, a
deputation of disappointed house-hunters has arrived to see him.
_Leader of Deputation._ We want houses and we won't wait.
_Dr. Addison (tapping his forehead and glancing significantly at his
Private Secretary)._ Tck, tck! That's very serious. Shall we feel the
pulse?
[_Leader of Deputation puts his hand out. Private Secretary
takes out his watch. Sixty seconds elapse._
_Dr. Addison._ Do you take much walking exercise?
_Leader of Deputation._ No.
_Dr. Addison._ Ah, I thought as much.
"After breakfast walk a mile,
After dinner rest awhile."
What you need is a good sound constitutional every morning. If you
_see_ any houses, of course there is no objection to your _looking_ at
them. But keep on walking, mind; don't loiter. And come back to me in
a month's time and we'll see how you are then.
[_Exit Deputation, looking slightly dazed._
Almost equally successful is Dr. ADDISON'S professional method
in dealing with representatives of the Building Trades Unions. A
bricklayers' leader, let us say, has expounded at great length the
technical difficulties which prevent rapidity of construction.
_Dr. Addison_ (_softly and suddenly_). Take a deep breath.
(_Bricklayer takes it._) Say ninety-nine! (_Bricklayer tries hard._)
Where do you feel the pain?
_Bricklayer._ In the shoulders and arms.
_Dr. Addison._ Tck, tck, we must go easy. Don't take it too quickly,
and we'll have you right again before the year's out. Try three bricks
a day and come and see me in a month's time.
These, however, are not the only methods by which Dr. ADDISON has
attempted to remedy the crisis. At his suggestion a permanent
sub-committee of the Cabinet, called "The Happy Homes for Heroes'
Panel," was appointed, and it was during one of its sessions that the
bright idea of Housing Bonds was originated, I believe by Sir ALFRED
MOND. If the campaign has not met with the success which it deserves,
the cause is probably to be found in the slightly unfortunate title
whose assonance suggests to the public mind the "House of Bondage" in
the Psalms. It would have been better, I think, to adopt Mr. AUSTEN
CHAMBERLAIN'S suggestion, which was "The Cosy Cot Combine."
However, things are not as bad as they might seem, and outside one
large suburb the other day I observed a gang of bricklayers actually
in operation, anxiously hovered over by a clerk from the Ministry,
thermometer in hand.
I think I have forgotten to mention in this brief sketch that Dr.
ADDISON has a frame of iron. Since I have said it of all the other
Cabinet Ministers of whom I have spoken, I ought certainly to say it
of Dr. ADDISON too. Like Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, like Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL,
like Sir ERIC GEDDES, the MINISTER OF HEALTH AND HOUSING has a frame
of iron. All that he really needs is the concrete.
K.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Wealthy Parvenu_ (_showing acquaintance his house,
"ancestors," etc_.). "AH! AN' THEY'RE ALL TIP-TOP AN' PRE-WAR, MIND
YER."]
* * * * *
=ELEGIA MACCHERONICA.=
[We print as it reaches us this strange incoherent ejaculatory
effusion, signed "A Lover of the Old Italian Opera." With the
general spirit of this valediction it is possible to feel a
certain amount of sympathy, but the author is clearly inaccurate
in including amongst the bygone glories of the institution which
he deplores places, persons, musical and even culinary features
which are by no means obsolete. We confess also to grave misgiving
as to the purity of the writer's style, which in some lines seems
to smack more of the debased Anglo-Italian of Soho than the
crystal-clarity of the Tuscan of Carducci.]
O TEMPI passati!--
PAGANI, FRASCATI,
MASCAGNI, SGAMBATI--
O Asti spumante!
O scena cantante!
Polenta, risotto,
O contra-fagotto!
Sordini, spaghetti,
BELLINI, confetti.
O cioppo dal grillo!
TARTINI del "trillo,"
_Barbiere_, "Di tanti,"
O fiaschi di Chianti!
O dolce solfeggio!
O caro arpeggio!
Salsiccia con veggio!
O lingua Toscana!
O bocca Romana!
O voce di petto!
_Rigoletto_, _Masetto_,
Stringendo e stretto,
O notte di festa!
E poi mal di testa.
O Caffe di GATTI!
O PASTA! O PATTI!
O PATTI! O PASTA!
O Brava! O Basta!
O danza San VITO!
_Clemenza di Tito_,
CAMILLO BOITO,
_Sarastro_, "Qui sdegno,"
Da capo, dal segno,
ALBANI, ALBONI!
TREBELLI, GARDONI!
O coloratura!
O bella bravura!
O "Salve dimora!"
O _Norma_, _Dinorah!_
O lunga cadenza
Senza desinenza,
O tempo rubato!
Strumenti a fiato!
O pingue contralto!
O ponte di Rialto!
O basso profondo!
O fine del mondo!
O "voi che sapete!"--
PER SEMPRE VALETE!
* * * * *
=RACING AS A BUSINESS.=
[The kind of article which one may confidently look for in the
sporting columns of a penny newspaper at this time of the year.]
From the very beginning of the season I have insisted that our
objective should be "the winter's keep." Those who have stuck to me
all along and played my system are on velvet.
During the flat-racing year I have given a hundred-and-fourteen
selections. Let me just tabulate the results; I like tabulating, for
it fills my column in no time.
Selections. Won. Second. Third. Unplaced.
114 5 8 1 100
N.B.--Non-starters neglected.
The above is a statement of which I may well be proud. I assert with
confidence that few sporting journalists can show anything like this
record.
Certain captious correspondents like "O. T." and "Disgusted" have
pointed out that my selections during this period show a loss of L104
9s. 11-1/2d. on a _flat stake_ of L1. All I can say is that people who
bet increasing stakes are increasing, while people who bet flat stakes
are---- Well, that disposes of "Disgusted" and "O. T." My readers know
that my system is to have the minimum stake on the losers and the
maximum stake on the winners. We shall never attain that abstract
perfection, but we should keep this ideal before us. I believe in
idealism; it pays.
Take yesterday's selections, for instance. Here they are, with results
tabulated:--
1.00 Breathing Time _Unplaced._
1.30 Taddenham _Unplaced._
2.00 Aminta I. _Unplaced._
2.30 Giddy Gertie _Non-starter._
3.00 Transformation _Unplaced._
3.30 Likely Case _Won--20 to 1 on._
That I consider a highly successful day's racing, provided your
stakes were proportionally placed; and here again I must insist on my
principle of maximum and minimum stakes.
Let us suppose, as naturally most of my readers did, that a backer
went to the course with a bookmaker's credit of twenty thousand pounds
and a thousand or so spare cash in his pocket. Being a shrewd man he
would place L1 on Breathing Time to win. (I daresay even "O. T." and
"Disgusted" did me the honour of following me so far.) On Taddenham,
true to my principles, our backer would raise his stake to L1 10s.
Aminta I. would carry L2, or L2 10s. if he were punting. But I cannot
too strongly discourage this habit of making violent increases in
stake; it is almost gambling. Much better put on only L2 with a
safe bookmaker, such as Mr. Bob Mowbray, of Conduit Street, whose
advertisement appears elsewhere in our columns.
To proceed, our backer finds to his relief that Giddy Gertie is a
non-starter and retires to the refreshment bar for a bracer. The 2.30
race being run off he returns to the Ring for the serious business of
the day. After examining Transformation in the paddock and listening
to the comments of the knowing ones--"Too thick in the barrel," "Too
long in the pastern," "Too moth-eaten in the coat"--he will exercise
caution and, instead of "putting his shirt" on Transformation and
plunging to the extent of, say, L5, will put up not more than L3 10s.
and await the result with calmness. When Transformation is returned
unplaced (or, as "O. T." and "Disgusted" would say, "also ran") our
backer is not abashed. Taking full advantage of his credit he places
his twenty thousand on Likely Case, together perhaps with the odd
thousand or so in his pocket, being careful, however, to ascertain
that his return ticket is still safely in his possession.
Our backer is shrewd enough to understand that this is a case for the
maximum stake. Strong in his faith in my principle he sees Likely Case
win with little surprise.
Returning to Town that evening he records his day's dealings in this
manner:
Lost. Won.
_L s. d. L s. d._
Breathing Time 1 0 0 --
Taddenham 1 10 0 --
Aminta I. 2 0 0 --
Giddy Gertie -- --
Transformation 3 10 0 --
Likely Case -- 1,000 0 0
Expenses: Return
ticket, entrances,
three double
b. & s., etc. 2 0 4 --
--------- -----------
10 0 4 1,000 0 0
10 0 4
------------
Balance L989 19 8
I may mention that the official s.p. of 20 to 1 on Likely Case is
distinctly cramped. On the course it was possible to obtain more
generous terms and lay only 19 to 1 on.
Thus one sportsman by careful observance of my principle has stacked
up a goodly array of chips towards his winter's keep. All this goes to
show that if a man will bet sanely and avoid "going for the gloves" he
can make a modest competence on the Turf.
This afternoon the Vale Selling Plate of 300 sovs. is down for
decision. To fill my space I cannot do better than give a list of
PROBABLE STARTERS AND JOCKEYS.
st. lb.
MAYANA 9 7 Digby.
AVIGNON 9 3 Harris.
WISE UNCLE 8 7 Holmes (O.)
PERIWIG 7 7 Benny.
BEATUS 7 0 Peters.
In Nurseries, Weight-for-age races and so on I make it a rule to give
only one selection, but in a struggle of this importance I expect to
receive a little more latitude. Of these, then, I take Mayana and
Periwig to beat the field. At the same time I feel strongly that Wise
Uncle's form at Kempton was not correct, and that he will nearly win,
if he can beat Beatus, who seems to be let in nicely at 7 st. All the
above will be triers, but it is doubtful whether any amount of trying
will enable them to beat Avignon, whose chances I am content to
support. I conclude by wishing my readers a good time over this race.
* * * * *
=NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN.=
THE WORM.
The worms, the worms, the wriggly worms,
They keep on eating earth,
And always in the grossest terms
Complain about their birth;
They have no eyes, they have no eyes,
They cannot read a book;
I wonder if they realise
What dreadful things they look.
The trowel cuts them quite in half,
It is a bitter cup;
They give a sour sardonic laugh
And sew the pieces up;
They sew them up and wind away
With seeming unconcern,
But oh, be careful! one fine day
I hear the worm will turn.