"This was Inman's last opportunity, as Reece, in his next hand, ran to his points with a great break of 202. He failed at an easy red winner, and after Inman had missed a simple shot Reece ran out."Times.
"This was Inman's last opportunity, as Reece, in his next hand, ran to his points with a great break of 202. He failed at an easy red winner, and after Inman had missed a simple shot Reece ran out."
Times.
Reece(after reaching his points with a great break of 202): Have another shot,Inman, old man. Hard luck! Now I reallymustgo.[Exit at a run].
Reece(after reaching his points with a great break of 202): Have another shot,Inman, old man. Hard luck! Now I reallymustgo.[Exit at a run].
Dear Mr. Punch,—While idly looking overChambers' DictionaryI came across the Christian name "Herbert," and noticed that it meant "The Glory of the Army." This aroused my curiosity, and I thought I should pursue the matter further by looking up the meaning of his other name. You may judge my surprise when I found that "Henry" meant "Home Ruler," and was given in these exact words. After this Mr.Asquith'sdogged determination to carry Home Rule is readily understood. He is a child of destiny.
Dear Mr. Punch,—While idly looking overChambers' DictionaryI came across the Christian name "Herbert," and noticed that it meant "The Glory of the Army." This aroused my curiosity, and I thought I should pursue the matter further by looking up the meaning of his other name. You may judge my surprise when I found that "Henry" meant "Home Ruler," and was given in these exact words. After this Mr.Asquith'sdogged determination to carry Home Rule is readily understood. He is a child of destiny.
I am, etc.,Kismet.
I am, etc.,Kismet.
I am, etc.,Kismet.
Doctor to old Appleby dame(Doctor to old Appleby dame whose son has been eaten by eaten by cannibals in the South Sea Islands)."I am so very sorry to hear this bad news about your son. Can you tell me where it happened?"Dame."Nay, a don't rightly knaa. It was soomwhar below Kendal."
March 18.—A telegram from Tipperusalem, Oklahoma, states that Madame Titipoff, as the result of partaking of tinned oysters at supper, is suffering from acute ptomaine poisoning, and will, at the most favourable estimate, be unable to dance for another six months.
March 19.—Authoritative cables from Sydney convey the distressing intelligence that M. Gordkin is suffering from a complete nervous breakdown. His temperature has never been below 117 for the last week, and his pulse varies from 240 to 260. The doctors take a serious view of his case, and all his engagements have been cancelled.
March 20.—At Dundee last night, Mlle. Stchortskirtsoff, while dancing at the Corybantic Music Hall, slipped on a patch of marmalade which had been inadvertently allowed to remain on the stage, and fractured both her kneecaps. It is feared that the famousballerinawill not be able to fulfil her engagements in Aberdeen next month.
March 21.—Latest advices from Tipperusalem give a reassuring account of Madame Titipoff's progress. On Thursday she was allowed to sit up for half an hour, and she ate a beefsteak with evident zest. On learning that the canned oyster vendor had been tarred and feathered, Madame Titipoff at once announced her intention of dancing on the following night.
March 22.—A despatch just received from M. Gordkin's agent at Sydney announces that the famous artist's temperature is now normal and his pulse steady at 60. The cause of his recent trivial indisposition was a hostile criticism in a local paper, but with the dismissal of the critic the incident is now regarded as closed, and M. Gordkin will resume his saltatorial activities in a day or two.
March 23.—The news of Mlle. Stchortskirtsoff's accident happily turns out to have been exaggerated. Her kneecaps were not fractured, but two hairpins became detached from her chevelure while she was performing a protracted pirouette. The famousdanseuseis rehearsing a new galvanic dance, and marmalade shares are again firm.
"It is learned officially that Their Excellencies are delighted with the climate, which appears to agree with Lady Chalmers, as well as with the scenery."The Ceylon Morning Leader.Of course it has known the scenery longer.
"It is learned officially that Their Excellencies are delighted with the climate, which appears to agree with Lady Chalmers, as well as with the scenery."
The Ceylon Morning Leader.
(A complaint has been voiced in the Press that uncommon wedding presents are getting much too common.)
We fixed our hymeneal day,Bespoke our nuptial catesAnd summoned to the solemn frayThe necessary glum arrayOf kin and intimates.And the more part in their degreeGave gladly gifts of pride,Tall silver ships, complete with sea,And birds of aureate filigree,Pearl-winged and opal-eyed.Sheffield they gave, a grievous load,And Chelsea, flower'd and spruce,And antique thingummies in spode;The only thing that none bestowedWas anything of use.Fled is the hope we built too soonOf some sub-tropic trek;Farewell, O azure honeymoon,The dull but necessary spoonClaims the paternal cheque.
We fixed our hymeneal day,Bespoke our nuptial catesAnd summoned to the solemn frayThe necessary glum arrayOf kin and intimates.
We fixed our hymeneal day,
Bespoke our nuptial cates
And summoned to the solemn fray
The necessary glum array
Of kin and intimates.
And the more part in their degreeGave gladly gifts of pride,Tall silver ships, complete with sea,And birds of aureate filigree,Pearl-winged and opal-eyed.
And the more part in their degree
Gave gladly gifts of pride,
Tall silver ships, complete with sea,
And birds of aureate filigree,
Pearl-winged and opal-eyed.
Sheffield they gave, a grievous load,And Chelsea, flower'd and spruce,And antique thingummies in spode;The only thing that none bestowedWas anything of use.
Sheffield they gave, a grievous load,
And Chelsea, flower'd and spruce,
And antique thingummies in spode;
The only thing that none bestowed
Was anything of use.
Fled is the hope we built too soonOf some sub-tropic trek;Farewell, O azure honeymoon,The dull but necessary spoonClaims the paternal cheque.
Fled is the hope we built too soon
Of some sub-tropic trek;
Farewell, O azure honeymoon,
The dull but necessary spoon
Claims the paternal cheque.
"When the earth trembledFor six days at great expense."The longest earthquake on record.
NEPTUNE'S ALLY(Thefirst lord of the admiraltycalls in a new element to redress the balance of the old.)
(Extracted from the Diary of Toby, M.P.)
ULSTER, DAY BY DAY: MONDAY.ULSTER, DAY BY DAY: MONDAY."Now, gents, what offers for this really prime Irish pig? Guaranteed by Mr.Devlin.You may examine its points as soon as you've bought it." [No business.]
House of Commons, Monday, March16.—TheWinsome Winston, sauntering in from behindSpeaker'sChair when Questions had advanced some way, startled by strident cheer from Ministerialists and Irish Nationalists. Opposition angrily replied.First Lord, faintly blushing, found anchorage on Treasury Bench. Unpremeditated outburst of enthusiasm meant as welcome back from Bradford, where he reviewed political situation with force and frankness that recalled his father's platform speeches delivered in his prime. Demonstration repeated when later he rose to answer question concerning his department. Fresh storm of cheering from Ministerialists responded to by defiant shouts from Opposition.
Winstonevidently the man of the moment.
Prime Minister, happily refreshed by week-end holiday, finds himself faced by crowd wanting to know all sorts of things that might happen concurrently with, or subsequent to, proposed temporary exclusion of parts of Ulster from operation of Home Rule Bill. There were twenty-six Questions. Assuming minimum number of Supplementaries, there would have been at least one hundred.
To amazement and vexation of earnest seekers after truth, the twenty-six querists discovered that they were being bowled over faster than commonplace nine-pins. AsNorman Craigbreathlessly complained, thePremier, having answered a question, did not, as is his custom of an afternoon, resume his seat, and thus provide opportunity for supplementary questioner.
This was his method: Taking in hand a sheet of manuscript he recited, "Number 45. This is a hypothetical question. Indeed, it involves no fewer than three hypotheses. Numbers 57, 64 and 72 are in the same category."
Before you knew where you were, bang went four questions. Member after Member rose to protest. ThePremierbabbled on like the brook.
"The answer to number 46 and to the first part of 70 is in the negative. The answer to number 48 is in the affirmative. Number 49 in the negative. I proceed to number 52."
A TRIFLE THIN.A TRIFLE THIN.Winstontakes refuge behindReginald.[On several points connected with the Navy Estimates Mr.Churchillclaimed that the responsibility rested with his predecessor at the Admiralty.]
Members held their breath. What could he say about 52? Evidently he meant to treat it in different fashion.
"Number 52," he continued in the same level voice, as if he were reading catalogue at picture sale, "refers to a small matter which can easily be provided for."
Here was batch of another five questions disposed of in barely more than as many seconds. And to think of all the industry and ingenuity bestowed upon the preparation of this succession of pitfalls designed for the engulfing of a ruthless Minister and the dislocation of an iniquitous Bill!
Situation capped byPremier'srefusal to be drawn into minute description of adjustments, financial and administrative, consequent on adoption of his proposed amendment of Home Rule Bill. If general principle were accepted, the rest would follow. If not, why waste time and divert discussion from main issue to subsidiary and incidental details? After beating in vain against the indomitable rock standing at the Table,Bonner Law, on behalf of enraged Opposition, gave notice of vote of censure. What day will be given for discussion? he asked.
"The earliest possible date," replied the imperturbablePremier.
Here episode ended. Its eruption made it clear that hope of settlement on grounds prepared a week ago to-day has vanished.
Business done.Notice from Front Opposition Bench of vote of censure on Ministers.
Tuesday.—Pole-Carewhad rather a bad time of it. Attacked in sharp succession by land and sea. Began at Question time. He merely asked whether two divisions and the cavalry brigade in Ireland, which took part in manœuvres last year, weren't rather a scrubby lot of immature boys unfit for public service. To quote exact phrase—"whether the physical appearance of the men was unsatisfactory; and whether the effect of the trooping season was to increase the number of immature boys unfit for active service?"
Seelywrathfully replied in the negative.
"I must," he added, "profess my astonishment that the hon. and gallant gentleman should seek by means of suggestions such as are contained in this question to discourage and belittle the British soldier, to whom he owes so much."
A loud cheer sent home this rebuke.
Worse still whenPollyput out to sea and came athwart theFirst Lord. All he sought was information as to whether theFirst Sea Lord, having publicly alluded to the danger of relying exclusively on the fleet to protect the country from invasion, "subsequently went back on his word."
ON THE WARPATH AGAINST THE CHARTERED COMPANY.ON THE WARPATH AGAINST THE CHARTERED COMPANY."Alarming outbreak in MacNeilliland."
"A most insulting and unfair remark," saidWinston. "It will," he continued, "do nothing but harm if the Navy think the Chiefs whom they honour and respect are to be subjected to offensive personal attacks of this character directed against them by ex-military men who have gone into politics."
"Only let me have five minutes with him, Mr.Deputy Speaker," said the ex-military man nervously turning up his coat cuffs.
Getting dangerously close to eleveno'clock, at which hour debate, if continued, must automatically close.Winstonpunctilious in leaving the five minutes demanded.Pole-Carew'sretort perhaps scarcely up to occasion.
"I can only say," he remarked, "that theSecretary for Warand theFirst Lord of the Admiraltyare worthy to sit on the same bench as theChancellor of the Exchequer."
Business done.—First Lordexplained his Naval policy.
Thursday.—Swift MacNeillintroduces new Parliamentary formula. Discussing on Civil Service Vote state of things in Rhodesia as dominated by the Chartered Company he was interrupted by remark fromOrmsby-Gore.
Throwing back his head with lofty scorn, and making a few windmill passages with his arms, Member for Donegal said, "I am not going to be interrupted by any gentleman of the House of Cecil."
ULSTER DAY BY DAY: THURSDAY.ULSTER DAY BY DAY: THURSDAY.Sir Edward Carson. "My train leaves Euston in thirty minutes. We meet at Philippi."
Had this determination been announced by ordinary Member it would not have possessed importance likely to affect future course of debate. ButSwift MacNeillis justly recognised as one of the highest authorities on the science and practice of Parliamentary procedure. If he is able to support his contention, that a Member may of his free will, in exercise of his mature judgment, divide the House into groups of families (as if they were counties of Ulster) and say, "I will not be interrupted by this one or that," whilst it would have useful effect in curtailing proceedings would obviously require nice discrimination.
There are in the present House several family names represented by various Members, not all sitting on same side of House. To take a single example, there are theWilsons. Like the family of the child with whomWordsworthconversed, they are seven. IfSwift MacNeill'sprecedent be established, a Member rising to continue debate might, by way of preface, remark, "I am not going to be interrupted by any gentleman of the House of Wilson."
In this particular caseA. S. Wilson, whose contributions to debate are exclusively interjectionary, would be cut off from the exercise of a talent that frequently enlivens a sitting.
Swift MacNeill'sown case is not free from difficulty. TheSpeakeris "a gentleman of the House of Cecil." Is he henceforward to be debarred from interrupting the Member for Donegal by calls to order?
Business done.—Bonner Law, master of Parliamentary tactics, obliged Government by moving vote of censure. Challenge hilariously accepted. Great muster of Ministerialists. On division what was meant as vote of censure was practically turned into vote of confidence, carried amid enthusiastic cheering by majority of 93 in House of 597 Members.
"Can any reader say whether a coloured attached ribbon (6ft. of ½in. red) is allowable by the game, merely as an aid in locating the flying ball."—English Mechanic.
Answer.Yes. So is a gramophone (2ft. by 3ft.), and it is more certain.
"A red or black sash round the waist, and a navy blue straw hat with ribbon to match, would be a most attractive little frock for a warm spring day."—Manchester Guardian.
"A red or black sash round the waist, and a navy blue straw hat with ribbon to match, would be a most attractive little frock for a warm spring day."—Manchester Guardian.
But it must be awarmspring day.
Herbertis one of those troublesome men who are always asking why I don't what he calls "buckle to" and make some money. But his latest suggestion was his maddest, and I think that I got out of it rather neatly. For Herbert is a determined fellow from whom you can't escape until you have promised quite a lot and sometimes even had actually to do something.
"Do you want two hundred pounds?" he bounced in upon me and said.
"Who doesn't?" I replied.
"Well, here you are then. It's as easy as falling off a ladder. Only a little industry required;" and he threw a paper on to my table.
I spread it out and saw: "One Thousand Cash Prizes amounting to £1,000. First Prize £200. All you have to do is to make as many words as you can out of 'Jenkins' Glorious Gum.'"
"Thanks," I said; "this isn't intended for really thoughtful people."
At this, however, he merely sniffed and pulled a fountain-pen from his pocket.
"I'll make a start," he said; "'gin' one; 'niggle'—that's rather good—two; 'mug' three." But after that his mind seemed to wander, and he added rather feebly, "and so on. It's ridiculously easy when you have a dictionary. Will you try?"
"No," I replied, and a fierce argument followed.
But just as he was getting really angry my eye fell upon a condition that I had overlooked. "Ten pounds," I saw, "will be awarded to the competitor whose envelope is opened first."
"I'll go in," I said, and Herbert replied, "Good egg, I'll bet you win. Don't forget 'mug.'"
"No, I won't forget 'mug'," I assured him as he left, for his last word had given me an idea.
Solemnly I sat down in front of "Jenkins' Glorious Gum" and saw at once that my word would do. In two minutes "Juggins" had been put into a very large envelope all by himself, and I was out of work again.
But the part that you won't believe has to come.
I won the £10—I did really. Among the multitude of fat envelopes bulging with words, my thin "Juggins" simply insisted upon being opened first. The thousands of chartered accountants assembled for the counting almost fought for him, he was nearly torn in two in their desire to begin with what looked like an easy one—or so I like to imagine the scene. But Herbert is insufferably proud of himself.
According to the Ladies' Press,Who would be really smart must dressIn crimson puce or purple hair:My Phyllis doesn't leave it there,But less than ever doth she seemContent with Nature's colour-scheme.Her brow is scarlet; week by weekNew tints bedeck her maiden cheek.(To-day they wear the pleasing hueWhich Fashion calls "electric" blue,And, when their owner's startled, showA healthy blush of indigo.)Her sense of artistry appearsIn what she does about her ears;With colours of the naval sortShe marks the starboard from the port.Her lips are lemon; underneathAppear her willow-pattern teeth.
According to the Ladies' Press,Who would be really smart must dress
According to the Ladies' Press,
Who would be really smart must dress
In crimson puce or purple hair:My Phyllis doesn't leave it there,
In crimson puce or purple hair:
My Phyllis doesn't leave it there,
But less than ever doth she seemContent with Nature's colour-scheme.
But less than ever doth she seem
Content with Nature's colour-scheme.
Her brow is scarlet; week by weekNew tints bedeck her maiden cheek.
Her brow is scarlet; week by week
New tints bedeck her maiden cheek.
(To-day they wear the pleasing hueWhich Fashion calls "electric" blue,And, when their owner's startled, showA healthy blush of indigo.)
(To-day they wear the pleasing hue
Which Fashion calls "electric" blue,
And, when their owner's startled, show
A healthy blush of indigo.)
Her sense of artistry appearsIn what she does about her ears;
Her sense of artistry appears
In what she does about her ears;
With colours of the naval sortShe marks the starboard from the port.
With colours of the naval sort
She marks the starboard from the port.
Her lips are lemon; underneathAppear her willow-pattern teeth.
Her lips are lemon; underneath
Appear her willow-pattern teeth.
But when, to serve another end,She threatened to adopt a blendOf tints with which I cannot cope—The green and white and heliotrope,"You know," said I, "your business best;Myself, I lose all interest."In other words, it may be said,My love for you is frankly dead.""Alas," she answered, "and alack!" ...Her nose is now in mourning (black).
But when, to serve another end,She threatened to adopt a blend
But when, to serve another end,
She threatened to adopt a blend
Of tints with which I cannot cope—The green and white and heliotrope,
Of tints with which I cannot cope—
The green and white and heliotrope,
"You know," said I, "your business best;Myself, I lose all interest."
"You know," said I, "your business best;
Myself, I lose all interest."
In other words, it may be said,My love for you is frankly dead."
In other words, it may be said,
My love for you is frankly dead."
"Alas," she answered, "and alack!" ...Her nose is now in mourning (black).
"Alas," she answered, "and alack!" ...
Her nose is now in mourning (black).
TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION."TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION."
CHARACTERS IN THE STORY.
The Duchess of Kimberley(Ruby), a svelte aquiline-nosed woman of some forty summers, with green hair and two aigrettes. She has been a widow for a lonely decade.
The Earl of Joburg, her son Guy, aged thirteen, who is about to go to a public school, where he will be kidnapped for ransom.
Lord Arthur Boobitrapp, his uncle, who discusses the question of the school with the Duchess. Lord Arthur is in favour of Eton, as he wishes Guy to be a wet Bob and captain the cricket eleven; whereas the Duchess, having a penchant for yellow stockings, favours Christ's Hospital. In the end they compromise, and the boy is sent to a small private school in Bermondsey, where the chief usher is
Joseph Late, a superb creature with a wonderful personality. Joseph not only ushes the school but loves the Duchess with a consuming love, and a year after Guy has been at the school and defied all efforts to kidnap him he tells the Duchess of the inflamed state of his cardiac penumbra. No sooner has he done this than he trembles all over at the presumption of a poor usher thus daring to address a Duchess; but the Duchess falls in his arms, for beneath her aigrettes she is woman too.
Mr. Vertigoapplies for the post of science master at the school, and, having seen Late kill a man many years before and escape punishment, gets it. Every time you see Vertigo's name you may expect trouble.
Dick Boobitrappis a kidnapper and a confederate of Vertigo.
Dr. Saundersonis a kidnapper under the guise of a writer of prescriptions.
In spite of all precautions, such as employing only detectives as servants of the school, Guy is kidnapped. The Duchess and Joseph Late hurry to Spain to seek him, not because they know him to be there, but because Spain is a likely romantic country.
ChapterCCCXLVIII.
"Tell me the worst," said the Duchess in strong ringing tones, all the mother coming out in her anguish.
But the reply came in unfamiliar tones.
Looking up, she observed that her usher had disappeared, and in his place was the detested Vertigo.
To be continued—but not here.
Scene—The New York landing pier of the Ocean Palace Line, crowded with passengers and their luggage from the R.M.S. "Gargantuan."
Time—About five and a-half hours earlier than ours.
Mr. Horace Rutherford Penfold (the last thing in novelists, surrounded by New York pressmen): "Glad to see you, boys! Delighted to see you!What!Was I hiding from you behind my luggage? What an absolutely absurd idea! The whole way across I've been eagerly looking forward to meeting you gentlemen of the most go-ahead, most enlightened Press on earth! Yes, it's my first visit to your great country. The dream of my life is now realised. Yes, of course I'm rejoiced that my novel,The Love of a Hop-Picker, has taken its place among the 'best sellers' on this side. Yes, people are good enough to say I've broken quite new ground in making the hop-fields the scene of a novel; the critics say my word-pictures of the hop-poles are 'absolutely luscious'; and they pronounceOzias, the hop-picker, 'a giant of artistic creation.' Yes, my novel is one of the twenty which in the last six months have been called 'epoch-making' and have been said to 'stand quite alone in modern fiction.' No doubt the hop-field will now be exploited by other writers, until in time it will become as hackneyed as the desert.
"Yes, this is my first visit to your wonderful country. I am here to superintend the rehearsals of the dramatised form ofThe Love of a Hop-Picker.Naturally I am a little nervous, for to please a New York audience is the playwright's dream of heaven. And then, of course,The Love of a Hop-Pickeris not only utterly English in atmosphere, but also peculiarlyKentish. Still, with such a brilliantly intelligent, marvellously sympathetic public as yours, I don't despair of bringing the hop-poles over the footlights, so to say.
"Yes, gentlemen, I have a wife, and I've not forgotten to bring her sworn affidavit that my coming without her is quite regular and in order, because, though Ellis Island's a delightful place, no doubt, still, I want to go into your great Empire city 'right away,' as you say. Here it is: 'I declare that I, Agatha Mary Rutherford Penfold, and my dear husband, Horace Rutherford Penfold, are a perfectly united and affectionate couple; that his journey to the United States is taken with my entire approval, and that I should have accompanied him but for being an extremely bad sailor and afraid of storms at sea. (Signed)Agatha Mary Rutherford Penfold. Sworn to in the presence of—' and so forth. Yes, certainly, gentlemen, copy it by all means.
"No, I never heard of any literary talent showing itself in our family before. My father was interested in the retail meat industry;hisfather was interested in the retail bread industry; andhisfather turned his attention to the making of candlesticks.
"My impressions as I crossed? Well, I couldn't help remarking, ill as I felt, that, as we neared the shores of the New World, the waves took on better and more imposing shapes, the wind blew more smartly, and at night the stars seemed brighter and more numerous, and the clouds appeared to form themselves into stripes! Yes, this is my first experience of a zero temperature. The air is deliciously fresh: one seems to breathe in freedom with it. Well, perhaps I am a little cold, but that is because I have been waiting an hour and a-halfen queuefor a permit allowing me to have my luggage examined; and then, you see, gentlemen, I haven't the fur coat I bought specially for this visit; the Customs people have taken it away, and also the evening clothes I had made by Pond just before I left; so that I'm afraid I shan't be able to accept the very kind invitations I received by wireless to dine with the Brainy Broadway Boys to-night, and to-morrow night with the Chocktaw Club.
"What do I think of feminine New York? Why, of course, I think her the prettiest, cleverest, best-dressed portion of feminine humanity, and with an added charm—a New Yorkiness which is absolutely indescribable. No, I haven't met any of her yet, my knowledge of New York being at present limited to this wonderful landing pier, your greatly gifted Customs officials, and the brilliantly intelligent subordinates of your world-renowned Express Company.
"What do I think of Mexican affairs? Well, gentlemen, it seems to me that onlyMexicanscan make themselves really at home in Mexico, and that other people had better not try to live there—if living is their object.
"Yes, here is my photo and my wife's photo; my father's photo; my grandfather's daguerreotype; a black profile of my great-grandfather—certainly, gentlemen, I shall be only too pleased and proud to have them all reproduced in your scintillating, pulsating journals. So long, boys! Delighted to have met you."
Distressed Mother.Distressed Mother."'E's been an orful trial to me ever since them pitcher palaces began. First 'e was shootin' at the fowls, an' now 'e's pinchin' my woolly mats ter put on 'is legs".
[The Mirdite Chief Prenk Bib Doda has joined the first Albanian Cabinet.]
Great is the Gaeckwar ofBaroda;Great too wasMarchandat Fashoda;Great is good brandy blent with soda;But, as a culminatingcoda,Greater by far isPrenk Bib Doda.
Great is the Gaeckwar ofBaroda;Great too wasMarchandat Fashoda;Great is good brandy blent with soda;But, as a culminatingcoda,Greater by far isPrenk Bib Doda.
Great is the Gaeckwar ofBaroda;
Great too wasMarchandat Fashoda;
Great is good brandy blent with soda;
But, as a culminatingcoda,
Greater by far isPrenk Bib Doda.
From a list of work for Trials at Eton:—
"Acts xxi—xxvii (notCh. xxviii)."
So Smithmi.had already guessed, but none the less the prohibition came as a great disappointment to him.
"The country between the Gamana and Katsena Rivers was inhabited by Zumperi pagans, who were cannibals and lived on hill tops."—Times.
"The country between the Gamana and Katsena Rivers was inhabited by Zumperi pagans, who were cannibals and lived on hill tops."—Times.
Thus differing from some of the inhabitants of Golders Green, who are vegetarians and live on turnip-tops.
["Caroline Cloan clawed suddenly at Slew's eyes. But for a quick movement on his part it might have been very serious. He had only one eye, and could not afford to lose the sight of it."—"Daily Mirror" Serial.]
["Caroline Cloan clawed suddenly at Slew's eyes. But for a quick movement on his part it might have been very serious. He had only one eye, and could not afford to lose the sight of it."—"Daily Mirror" Serial.]
Keen are the claws ofCarrie Cloan,Rampant her mood. The eye ofSlewIs one in number; she alone,Blinded by passion, makes it two.She's out for eyes, and cannot tarryTo ponder arithmetic laws.And what is the result? MissCarrieClawsSlew; Slewslews; MissCarrie'sclaws.Miscarry, and the eye is his.Rough on poorCaroline, no doubt;But there—the moral of it is,First count your eye, then have it out.
Keen are the claws ofCarrie Cloan,Rampant her mood. The eye ofSlewIs one in number; she alone,Blinded by passion, makes it two.
Keen are the claws ofCarrie Cloan,
Rampant her mood. The eye ofSlew
Is one in number; she alone,
Blinded by passion, makes it two.
She's out for eyes, and cannot tarryTo ponder arithmetic laws.And what is the result? MissCarrieClawsSlew; Slewslews; MissCarrie'sclaws.
She's out for eyes, and cannot tarry
To ponder arithmetic laws.
And what is the result? MissCarrie
ClawsSlew; Slewslews; MissCarrie'sclaws.
Miscarry, and the eye is his.Rough on poorCaroline, no doubt;But there—the moral of it is,First count your eye, then have it out.
Miscarry, and the eye is his.
Rough on poorCaroline, no doubt;
But there—the moral of it is,
First count your eye, then have it out.
You've neglected your workAct I."Guvnor"(dismissing office-boy,)"You've neglected your work," etc., etc. "That's my motto and evidently not yours. Take a week's notice."
The Office-Boy's farewell.Act II.(a week elapses.)The Office-Boy's farewell.
When I was a child I had the signal honour of being seated upon the knee of an old lady whose great-great-great-great-uncle once shook hands with a man whose grandfather remembered seeing green fields at the spot which is now covered by Carmelite House. How short is the history of the Metropolis!
Everybody, of course, is aware that Professor Joff committed one of his notorious "howlers" when he derived "Carmelite"—in the street name—from "Cromwell's Heights." The latter, needless to say, must have been a deal nearer the South Kensington Museum than Whitefriars, famed for its sanctuary.Cromwellmayhave wandered in the meadows (if they still existed in his day) where the 6.30Newsnow leaps from its machines every afternoon about half-past five; he may even (as Plip and Johnstone surmise, in their ponderous tomes,Odd Corners in LondonandMore and Odder Corners in London) have supped at the Pig and Mortarboard, which stood on what is now the site of the Ludgate Hill station booking-office (Plip, by-the-by, wrongly says not the booking-office, but the "bookstall," an amazing error in one usually so careful). But whatever elseCromwelldid or did not do, he certainly never gave his name to any district further east than Knightsbridge.
I flatter myself that Professor Joff's preposterous surmises were finally silenced by my monograph,A Hundred Queer Things about Bouverie Street.Curiously enough I wrote this with a pencil borrowed from a friend whose aunt once caught sight, as a girl, of a prisoner being taken to the Old Bailey to be tried for murder. That prisoner was the notorious Budgingham. And now comes the interesting part of the story. Budgingham, as transpired at the trial, had bigamously married the step-daughter of a man whose godfather's mother's cousin's great-grandmother remembered hearing the bells of Bow Church tolling on the day when Henri de Bouverie landed in England to attend the funeral of his niece, the beautiful Mrs. Coop.
London's history is indeed crowded, though (to the antiquarian) oddly short in its perspective. Next week, having sketched the romantic career of Henri de Bouverie (concerning whom Professor Joff has made several incredible mistakes), I shall give a still more startling example of the links which lead us so abruptly to the antechambers of what we might have supposed to be the dim and distant past. The Metropolis, to anyone who appreciates historical research and can write as easily as I can, is a gold-mine; fortunately few pressmen realise its possibilities, and that of anIndex Rerum, as I do. If, as I anticipate, this article is printed and paid for with the usual eagerness and a series ordered, nothing can stop me—— [Wait and see.—Ed.]
"Mr. Tooth, whose name was in everybody's mouth a generation or so ago."Dublin Daily Express.
"Mr. Tooth, whose name was in everybody's mouth a generation or so ago."
Dublin Daily Express.
If you are the sort of person who likes detail and accuracy, who can always tell where the north is even in a strange house (therearepeople like this; I met one the other day), and—this generally goes with it—are good at geography, you had better skip this article. It might annoy you. But if you likeDebussy, and like watching the sun shine through a mist, and have no bump of locality, and hate being shown over ruins, you are the sort of person I am, and you will sympathise with me.
My trouble is this. Whenever I go to stay in the country I am always sooner or later taken a walk, generally a long one, to the highest hill they happen to have, and there I am shown a view. Not that I would mind if they left it at that, but they don't. One's host generally seems to have an absurd pride in some distant church, or gap in a hill "through which on fine days you can see the sea;" but even if he hasn't he willalways—if you happen to be in the south of England—point out a patch of trees like a small piece of black sticking-plaster and tell you that that is Chanctonbury Ring. I never escape Chanctonbury Ring, though I have often gone far, even refused invitations, to avoid it. Once in Yorkshire—but nobody ever will believe that story, though I never pretended it was the same Ring. What I said was that there may be two of the same name, or even more: like Richmond, for instance.
"Do you see that hill over there?" he begins. I look where he is pointing and see three. "No, not that one," and he comes behind me and points over my shoulder. "Follow my finger," he says, and I follow it and see a perfectly flat field. But he has to be humoured, and anyhow there is lunch to be thought of.
"Yes, yes,Isee," I reply hastily, with a touch of "How stupid of me!" in my voice.
"Well, carry your eye along the valley on its left, over the white house"—this is the only place where there is no white house for miles—"and along the strip of road. See the strip of road?" ("See the strip of road!" I've been lost in a bog for ages.) "Well, right up as far as you can see, following that road and a little to the right, do you see a patch of trees?"
When he says "patch of trees," I know.
"Chanctonbury Ring," I say brightly. At any rate,that'sfinished.
"Yes; how did you know?" he asks disappointedly.
Brute that I am! Why didn't I let him say it?
Only once, as far as I can remember, was I wrong. It was in the Cotswolds and we were in a garden, on the side of a hill. From the terrace outside the house was a magnificent view. My host strolled up. "Pity it's so misty," he said. (I had just been thinking how lovely it looked.) "On a fine day, you know, we can see——"
"NotChanctonbury Ring?" I said pleadingly.
He looked puzzled.
"Tewkesbury,", he said rather coldly, and soon afterwards strolled away again.
There are only a very few people whose sympathy one feels sure of when one confides troubles to them such as this Ring-finding one of mine. Of the very few I feel surest of my Uncle Edward, so I thought I would tell him about it when I went to stay with him a little while ago.
"By the by," I said, as we laboured breathlessly up a hill—he lives in Surrey—"have you ever noticed ... when you're staying with people anywhere in the South of England ... and they take you for a walk ... they always, sooner or later——"
"Just wait a minute," he said as we reached the top. "Ah yes, I thought you could"—he was smiling happily at something. "I wanted to show you before we went on—just over there——" I waited. Somehow the words seemed familiar. "See that dark patch right over there, on the furthest hill? Well, that's Chanctonbury Ring."
"Yes, you can only see it on a fine day," I replied bitterly.
["Professor Karl Pearson delivered a public Galton Memorial Lecture at the Francis Galton Laboratory for National Eugenics, University College, on "The Handicapping of the First-born." There was, he showed, a tendency for the first-born child to be lighter and smaller than later-born children. On the whole there was a very sensible bias against the first-born."—Morning Post.]
["Professor Karl Pearson delivered a public Galton Memorial Lecture at the Francis Galton Laboratory for National Eugenics, University College, on "The Handicapping of the First-born." There was, he showed, a tendency for the first-born child to be lighter and smaller than later-born children. On the whole there was a very sensible bias against the first-born."—Morning Post.]
Pearson I sing of, eugenic and brainy,Iconoclastic and fearless to dare.Once I thought "eugenist" = "zany,"Now I know better and raise high in airBumpers Falernian, "Looking towards you."Great be the glory the future awards you,You that have given the first-born a cropper,Bay-leaves immortal encircle your topper;Though you're a scientist, you are no dry ass—I take off my hat to you,Karl, for I shareYour "very sensible bias."Long were we "minors" oppressed by our "major"All our lives through since we started at school;His was the limelight on every stage, orHis was the fire side and ours was the cool;He got the ease of our ancestors' acres,We had to haggle with butchers and bakers,We had their bills to pay—his all the money;Ours was but gall to drink—his tipple honey;He was the "Purbeck" and we were the "Lias."So we against Primogeniture's ruleHeld very sensible bias.Fallen the idol, destroyed the oppressor!Always we felt we were good as the rest,Now from the mouth of K.Pearson, Professor,Hear we the truth that the younger are best.Vanished the halo that shone round the first-bornNow that Eugenics proclaim him the worst born.Praise, Younger Sons, our greatKarl, who, new seasVoyaging, found, like the old Portuguese,Capes of Good Hope—ourBartholomew Diaz.Shout till the whole world hears clearly expressedOurvery sensible bias.
Pearson I sing of, eugenic and brainy,Iconoclastic and fearless to dare.Once I thought "eugenist" = "zany,"Now I know better and raise high in airBumpers Falernian, "Looking towards you."Great be the glory the future awards you,You that have given the first-born a cropper,Bay-leaves immortal encircle your topper;Though you're a scientist, you are no dry ass—I take off my hat to you,Karl, for I shareYour "very sensible bias."
Pearson I sing of, eugenic and brainy,
Iconoclastic and fearless to dare.
Once I thought "eugenist" = "zany,"
Now I know better and raise high in air
Bumpers Falernian, "Looking towards you."
Great be the glory the future awards you,
You that have given the first-born a cropper,
Bay-leaves immortal encircle your topper;
Though you're a scientist, you are no dry ass—
I take off my hat to you,Karl, for I share
Your "very sensible bias."
Long were we "minors" oppressed by our "major"All our lives through since we started at school;His was the limelight on every stage, orHis was the fire side and ours was the cool;He got the ease of our ancestors' acres,We had to haggle with butchers and bakers,We had their bills to pay—his all the money;Ours was but gall to drink—his tipple honey;He was the "Purbeck" and we were the "Lias."So we against Primogeniture's ruleHeld very sensible bias.
Long were we "minors" oppressed by our "major"
All our lives through since we started at school;
His was the limelight on every stage, or
His was the fire side and ours was the cool;
He got the ease of our ancestors' acres,
We had to haggle with butchers and bakers,
We had their bills to pay—his all the money;
Ours was but gall to drink—his tipple honey;
He was the "Purbeck" and we were the "Lias."
So we against Primogeniture's rule
Held very sensible bias.
Fallen the idol, destroyed the oppressor!Always we felt we were good as the rest,Now from the mouth of K.Pearson, Professor,Hear we the truth that the younger are best.Vanished the halo that shone round the first-bornNow that Eugenics proclaim him the worst born.Praise, Younger Sons, our greatKarl, who, new seasVoyaging, found, like the old Portuguese,Capes of Good Hope—ourBartholomew Diaz.Shout till the whole world hears clearly expressedOurvery sensible bias.
Fallen the idol, destroyed the oppressor!
Always we felt we were good as the rest,
Now from the mouth of K.Pearson, Professor,
Hear we the truth that the younger are best.
Vanished the halo that shone round the first-born
Now that Eugenics proclaim him the worst born.
Praise, Younger Sons, our greatKarl, who, new seas
Voyaging, found, like the old Portuguese,
Capes of Good Hope—ourBartholomew Diaz.
Shout till the whole world hears clearly expressed
Ourvery sensible bias.