Chapter I: Front Matter

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 148.
FEBRUARY 17, 1915.

CHARIVARIA.

The Turks are now reported to be retiring through the desert, and the Germans are realising that you may take a horse to the place where there's no water, but you cannot make him drink.

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"Rapid progress," we read, "is being made in the American movement to supply soldiers at the battle fronts in Europe with Bibles printed in their own languages." We trust that one will be supplied to the KAISER, who, if he ever had one, has evidently mislaid it.

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Suggested title for Germany and her allies--The Hunseatic League.

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The _Vossische Zeitung_, talking of the proposed blockade, says, "The dance will begin on February 18." Germania's toe may not be light, but it is fantastic.

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You may know a man by the company he keeps. The KAISER'S friends are now the Jolly Roger and Sir ROGER CASEMENT.

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Messrs. HAGENBECK, of Hamburg, are sending Major MEHRING, the German Commandant at Valenciennes, an elephant. So we may expect shortly to be told by wireless that a large Indian body has gone over to the Germans.

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Earl GREY, speaking at Newcastle on the War, said that a German passenger on the _Vaterland_ remarked to him, "Can you wonder that we hunger? We have been hungry for two hundred years and only had one satisfying meal--in 1870. We have become hungry again." The pity, of course, is that so few Germans can eat quite like gentlemen.

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The Dorsets, we are told, have nicknamed their body belts "the dado round the dining-room." In the whirligig of fashion the freeze is now being ousted by its predecessor.

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Much of the credit for the admirable feeding of our Expeditionary Force is due, we learn, to Brigadier-General LONG, the Director of Supplies. As a caustic Tommy, pointing to his "dining-room," remarked, "one wants but little here below, but wants that little Long."

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The _Deutsche Tageszeitung_ informs its readers that "the men of the North Lancashire Regiment recently attempted to force a swarm of bees to attack German soldiers, but the bees turned on the British and severely stung one hundred and twenty of them." After this success it is reported that the Death's Head Hussars are adopting a wasp as a regimental pet.

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Talking of regimental pets, the lucky recipient of Princess MARY'S Christmas gift that was packed by the QUEEN is Private PET, of the Leinster Regiment.

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With reference to the private view of a collapsible hut at the College of Ambulance last week it is only fair to say that there is good reason to believe that not a few of those already erected will shortly come under this description.

* * *

The Russian Minister of Finance, M. BARK, paid a visit to this country last week, and it is rumoured that he had an interview with another financial magnate, Mr. BEIT, with a view to forming an ideal combination.

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Says an advertisement of the Blue Cross Fund:--"All horses cared for. Nationality not considered." This must save the Fund's interpreters a good deal of trouble.

* * *

The Corporation of the City of London reports that diminished lighting, so far from increasing the dangers of the City streets, has reduced them, the accidents during the past quarter being only 331 as compared with 375 a year ago. However, a proposal that the lights shall now be entirely extinguished with a view to reducing the casualties to _nil_ has not yet been adopted.

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A gentleman has written to _The Globe_ to complain that at Charing Cross Station there are signs printed in German indicating the whereabouts of the booking-office, waiting-room, etc. We certainly think that, while we are at war, these ought, so as to confuse the enemy, to point in wrong directions.

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Germany is now suffering from extreme cold, and the advice to German housewives to cook potatoes in their jackets is presumably a measure of humanity.

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To Mr. WATT'S enquiry in the House as to how many German submarines had been destroyed, Mr. CHURCHILL replied, "The German Government has made no return." Let us hope that this is true also of a good few of the submarines.

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_Der Tag_, it is announced, is to be withdrawn from the Coliseum. They could do with it, we believe, in Germany.

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Theatrical folk will be interested to hear that in the Eastern Theatre of War there has been furious fighting for the passes.

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* * * * *

"The power of Great Britain and her Allies was increasing daily
in strength, whereas the power of her enemies was distinctly on
the wane. The existing situation had been brought about without
the vest resources of the Empire having yet been called in to
play."--_Daily Mail._

Are we to understand, that, so far, we have only called out the socks and body-belts?

* * * * *

"There is but one survival among the historic shows of the
[Crystal] Palace--a portion of the Zoo. The monkeys are asking
one another 'What next?'

A meeting of the directors of the Crystal Palace Football Club
is to be summoned to decide on a course of action."
_The Evening News._

Without wishing to be needlessly offensive to either of these bodies, we venture to suggest that they should combine their deliberations.

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"If ... England and France keep the police of the sea with the
utmost vigilance, so that no copper at all can reach Germany and
Austria, the fate of both Empires seems certain."--_Times._

The land police must be guarded even more vigorously if "no copper at all" is to slip over.

* * * * *

THE GODS OF GERMANY.

[A certain German hierarch declares that it goes well with his
country. He finds it unthinkable that the enemy should be
permitted to "trample under foot the fresh, joyous, religious
life of Germany."]

Lift up your jocund hearts, beloved friends!
From East and West the heretic comes swooping,
But all in vain his impious strength he spends
If you refuse to let him catch you stooping;
All goes serenely up to date;
Lift up your hearts in hope (and hate)!

Deutschland--that beacon in the general night--
Which faith and worship keep their fixed abode in,
Shall teach the infidel that Might is Right,
Spreading the gospel dear to Thor and Odin;
O let us, in this wicked war,
Stick tight to Odin and to Thor!

Over our race these gods renew their reign;
For them your piety sets the joy-bells pealing;
Louvain and Rheims and many a shattered fane
Attest the force of your religious feeling;
Not Thor's own hammer could have made
A better job of this crusade.

In such a cause all ye that lose your breath
Shall have a place reserved in high Valhalla;
And ye shall get, who die a Moslem's death,
The fresh young houri promised you by Allah;
Between the two--that chance and this--
Your Heaven should be hard to miss.

O. S.

* * * * *

THE PASSPORT.

"Francesca," I said, "how would you describe my nose?"

"Your nose?" she said.

"Yes," I said, "my nose."

"But why," she said, "do you want your nose described?"

"I am not the one," I said, "who wants my nose described. It is Sir EDWARD GREY, the--ahem--Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. In the midst of all his tremendous duties he still has time to ask me to tell him what my nose is like."

"This," said Francesca, "is the short cut to Colney Hatch. Will somebody tell me what this man is talking about?"

"I will," I said. "I am talking about my nose. There is no mystery about it."

"No," she said, "your nose is there all right. I can see it with the naked eye."

"Do not," I said, "give way to frivolity. I may have to go to France. Therefore I may want a passport. I am now filling in an application for it, and I find to my regret that I have got to give details of my personal appearance, including my nose. I ask you to help me, and all you can do is to allude darkly to Colney Hatch. Is that kind? Is it even wifely?"

"But why can't you describe it yourself?"

"Don't be absurd, Francesca. What does a man know about his own nose? He only sees it full-face for a few minutes every morning when he's shaving or parting his hair. If he ever does catch a glimpse of it in profile the dreadful and unexpected sight unmans him and he does his best to forget it. I give you my word of honour, Francesca, I haven't the vaguest notion what my nose is really like."

"Well," she said, "I think you might safely put it down as a loud blower and a hearty sneezer."

"I'm sure," I said, "that wouldn't satisfy Sir EDWARD GREY. He doesn't want to know what it sounds like, but what it looks like."

"How would 'fine and substantial' suit it?"

"Ye--es," I said, "that might do if by 'fine' you mean delicate----"

"I don't," she said.

"And if 'substantial' is to be equivalent to handsome."

"It isn't," she said.

"Then we'll abandon that line. How would 'aquiline' do? Aren't some noses called aquiline?"

"Yes," she said, "but yours has never been one of them. Try again."

"Francesca," I said pleadingly, "do not suggest to me that my nose is turned up, because I cannot bear it. I do not want to have a turned-up nose, and what's more I don't mean to have one, not even to please the British Foreign Office and all its permanent officials."

"It shan't have a turned-up nose, then. It shall have a Roman nose."

"Bravo!" I cried "Bravo! Roman it shall be," and I dipped my pen and prepared to write the word down in the blank space on the application form.

"Stop!" said Francesca. "Don't do anything rash. Now that I look at you again I'm not sure that yours is a Roman nose."

"Oh, Francesca, do not say such cruel, such upsetting things. It must, it shall be Roman."

"What," she asked, "is a Roman nose?"

"Mine is," I said eagerly. "No nose was ever one-half so Roman as mine. It is the noblest Roman of them all."

"No," she said, with a sigh, "it won't do. I can't pass it as Roman."

"All right," I said, "I'll put it down as 'non-Roman.'"

"Yes, do," she said, "and let's get on to something else."

"Eyes," I said. "How shall I describe them?"

"Green," said Francesca.

"No, grey."

"Green."

"Grey."

"Let's compromise on grey-green."

"Right," I said. "Grey-green and gentle. Sir EDWARD GREY will appreciate that. Oh, bother! I've written it in the space devoted to 'hair.' However it's easy to----"

"Don't scratch it out," she said. "It's a stroke of genius. I've often wondered what I ought to say about your hair, and now I know. Oh, my grey-green-and-gentle-haired one!"

"Very well," I said, "it shall be as you wish. But what about my eyes?"

"Write down 'see hair' in their space and the trick's done."

"Francesca," I said, "you're wonderful this morning. Now I know what it is to have a real helper. Complexion next, please. Isn't 'fresh' a good word for complexion?"

"Yes, for some."

"Another illusion gone," I said. "No matter; I've noticed that people who fill up blank spaces always use the word 'normal' at least once. I shall call my complexion normal and get it over."

After this there was no further difficulty. I took the remaining blank spaces in my stride, and in a few minutes the application form was filled up. Having then secured a clergyman who consented to guarantee my personal respectability and having attached two photographs of myself I packed the whole thing off to the Foreign Office. I have not yet had any special acknowledgment from Sir EDWARD GREY, but I take this opportunity to warn the French authorities that within a few days a gentleman with a non-Roman nose, grey-green and gentle hair, see-hair eyes and a normal complexion may be seeking admission to their country. R. C. L.

* * * * *

TEUTON TROUBADOUR (_serenading the fair Columbia_). "IF SHE WON'T LISTEN TO MY LOVE-SONGS, I'LL TRY HER WITH A BRICK!"]

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THE WATCH DOGS.