At the War OfficeAt the War Office."Oh, please could you tell me how to find Lord Kitchener's room? I want to see him particularly, and I won't keep him long. It's just to write his favourite author and flower in my album."
At the War Office."Oh, please could you tell me how to find Lord Kitchener's room? I want to see him particularly, and I won't keep him long. It's just to write his favourite author and flower in my album."
It must have happened to all of us to be hailed by some friend with the greeting, "I've got the funniest story to tell you; it'll make you scream," and to listen thereafter to something that produced nothing but irritated perplexity. Then, if the friend were a valued one, with a record of genuine humour, we would perhaps evoke with difficulty a polite snigger, and so break from the encounter. Well, this is very much what I cannot, help feeling aboutThe Phantom Peer(Chapman And Hall). I have had such entertainment from Mr.Edwin Pughin the past that I prepared for this Extravanganza (his own term) in a mood of smiling anticipation. But from the first page to the last it had me beat. Fun is the last subject in the world upon which one should dare to dogmatize; and to others, more fortunate, the thing may bring laughter. I can only envy them. It is not that I complain of the impossibility of the plot. Extravaganza covers a multitude of coincidences. WhenJohnnie Shotterwas persuaded to take the name and personality of an imaginaryLord Counterpound, I bore without a murmur the immediate arrival on the scene of an actual holder of that very title. It was the dreariness of the resulting muddle that baffled me. To make matters worse the intrigue, such as it is, breaks off abruptly for several chapters in the middle, to permit the introduction of what appears to be an attempted satire upon forcible feeding. At the end, one of the chief male characters turns out to be a woman; but as none of them was anything but a knock-jointed puppet jumping upon ill-concealed wires the transformation was just academically uninteresting. I am sorry, Mr.Pugh, but even for your sake I can only say, "Tell us a better one next time!"
From the letter of an American restaurateur to a new arrival from England:—
"Dear Sir,—Before I chef—one Italian noble family—now come America—start the business my own—house top side this paper. Everybody speaks it me. Lunches and Dinners worth two (2) times. I delighted preparation for you—no charge extra—only notification me few hours behind. I build for clientelle intellectual—they more appreciation my art."
"Dear Sir,—Before I chef—one Italian noble family—now come America—start the business my own—house top side this paper. Everybody speaks it me. Lunches and Dinners worth two (2) times. I delighted preparation for you—no charge extra—only notification me few hours behind. I build for clientelle intellectual—they more appreciation my art."