Chapter I: Front Matter

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 158.

May 19th, 1920.

CHARIVARIA.

A Swedish scientist has invented a new building material called sylvenselosit. It is said to cost one-fifth the price of the building material in use in this country, which is known to the trade as wishyumagetit.

***

A folding motor-car is said to have been invented which has a greater speed than any other car. The next thing that requires inventing is a folding pedestrian to cope with it.

***

Berlin manufacturers are experimenting in making clothing from nettles. This is a chance that the nettle has long been waiting for.

***

A business magazine suggests that a series of afternoon chats with business men should be arranged. Our war experience of morning back chats at the grocer's is not encouraging.

***

The capture of General CARRANZA, says a Vera Cruz message, was a mistake on the part of General SANCHEZ. We trust this does not mean that they will have to start the thing all over again.

***

Those who understand the Mexican trouble say it is doubtful whether America can deal with this war until the Presidential election is over. One war at a time is the American motto.

***

We gather from a contemporary that people who have been ordering large stocks of coal in the hope of escaping the new prices will be disappointed. Still, they may get in ahead of the next advance.

***

The inventor of the silent typewriter is now in London. We seem to know the telephone which gave him the idea.

***

A man at Bow Street Court complained that the Black Maria which conveyed him there was very stuffy. Some prisoners say that this vehicle is so unhealthy as to drive custom away from the Court.

***

Fruit blight threatens to be serious this year, says a daily paper, and drastic action should be taken against the apple weevil. A very good plan is to make an imitation apple of iron and then watch the weevil snap at it and break off its teeth.

***

One North of England workman is said to be in a bit of a hole. It seems that he has mislaid his strike-fixture card.

***

Immediately after a football match at Londonderry, one of the players was shot in the leg by an opponent. The latter claims that he never heard the whistle blow.

***

Dr. EUGENE FISK, President of the Life Extension Institute, promises by scientific means to prolong human life for nineteen hundred years. If this is the doctor's idea of a promise we would rather not know what he would call a threat.

***

Wood for making pianos, says a weekly journal, is often kept for forty years. "And even this," writes "Jaded Parent," "is not half long enough."

***

With reference to the man who was seen laughing at Newport last week, it is only fair to point out that he was not a ratepayer, but was only visiting the place.

***

LARRY LEMON, says _The Sunday Express_, is considered to be better than CHARLIE CHAPLIN. As he is quite a young man, however, it is possible that he may yet grow out of it.

***

The Clerk of the oldest City Company writes to _The Times_ to say that his Livery has resolved to drink no champagne at its feasts. Meanwhile other predictions as to the end of the world should be treated with reserve.

***

After the statement in court by Mr. Justice DARLING people contemplating marriage should book early for divorce if they want to avoid the rush.

***

"Why Marry?" says the title of a new play. While no valid reason appears to exist many declare that it is a small price to pay for the satisfaction of being divorced.

***

Three-fourths of the public only buy newspapers to read the advertisements, says a contemporary. It would be interesting to know what the others buy them for.

***

"Few people seem to realise," says a cinema gossip, "that Miss S. Eaden, the American film actress, is fond of tulips." We are ashamed to confess that we had not fully grasped this fact.

***

It appears that one newspaper has decided that May 24th shall be the opening date for ceasing to notice the cuckoo. Will correspondents please note?

***

"Things are unsettled in Ireland," says a gossip writer. We think people should be more careful what they say. Scandal like this might get about.

***

A certain golf club has petitioned the local Council for permission to play golf "in a modified form." Members who recently heard the Club Colonel playing out of the bunker at the seventh declare that no substantial modification is possible.

***

A new invention for motorists makes a buzzing sound when the petrol tank is getting low. This is nothing compared with the motor-taxes invented by the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, which make the motorist himself whistle.

***

In the opinion of a weekly paper no dog can stand the sound of bagpipes without setting up a howl. This only goes to prove, what we have always contended, that dogs are almost human.

* * * * *

_MISTRESS._ "OH, SHE'S A NEW GIRL. SHE ONLY CAME THIS MORNING, AND HASN'T YET MADE UP HER MIND WHETHER SHE'LL STAY."]

* * * * *

THE LIBERAL BREACH.

(_As viewed dispassionately by a looker-on._)

WHEN dog with dog elects to fight
I take no hand in such disputes,
Knowing how hard they both would bite
Should I attempt to part the brutes.

So in the case of man and wife
My rooted habit it has been,
When they engage in privy strife,
Never to go and barge between.

Nor do I join the fighting front
When Liberal sections disagree,
One on the Coalition stunt
And one on that of Freedom (Wee).

Though tempted, when I see them tear
Each other's eyes, to say, "Be good!"
As an outsider I forbear,
Fearing to be misunderstood.

Fain would I use my gift of tact
And take a mediatorial line,
But shrewdly recognise the fact
That this is no affair of mine.

Yet may I venture to deplore
A great tradition cheaply prized,
And yonder, on the Elysian shore,
The ghost of GLADSTONE scandalised.

But most for him I mourn in vain
Whom Fate has dealt so poor a fist
(Recalling SHAKSPEARE'S gloomy Dane,
That solid-fleshed soliloquist)--

O cursed spite that he was born
(ASQUITH, I mean) to close the breach
And save a party all forlorn
By mere rotundity of speech.

O. S.

* * * * *

A LIAR'S MASTERPIECE.

My friend Arthur's hobby is the stupendous. He conceives himself to be the direct successor of the mediaeval travel-story merchants. War-tales, of course, are barred to him, for nothing is too improbable to have happened during the War, and all the best lies were used by professionals while Arthur was still serving. Once, however, in his career he has realised his ambition to be taken for a perfect liar, and that time he happened to be speaking the simple truth. I was his referee and he did it in this wise.

When ALLENBY was making his last great drive against the Turk, he was no doubt happy in the knowledge that Arthur and I were pushing East through Bulgaria to take his adversary in the rear. We pushed with speed and address, but just when it looked as if we should exchange the tactical for the practical we stopped and rusticated at the hamlet of Skeetablista, on the Turco-Bulgarian frontier.

Skeetablista was under the control of Marko and Stefan and an assorted following of Bulgar cut-throats. Although the mutual hatchet had been interred a bare three weeks we found ourselves among friends. Thomas Atkins was soon talking Bulgarian with ease and fluency, while his "so-called superiors," as the company Bolshevik put it, celebrated the occasion by an international dinner in Marko's quarters. The dinner consisted chiefly of rum (provided by us) and red pepper (provided by Marco and Stefan).

These latter were bright and eager youths from Sofia military academy, and while the rum and red pepper passed gaily round they talked the shop of their Bulgarian Sandhurst in a queer mixture of English and French. They made living figures for us of the KAISER, who had inspected them not long before, of FERDIE and of BORIS his son, and told moving tales of British gunfire from the wrong end. We countered with KITCHENER, LLOYD GEORGE and the British Navy, while outside in the night the Thracian wolves howled derisively at both alike.

"I should like plenty to travel away and see the other countries," said Marko, rolling us cigarettes after dinner. "This is a good country, but _ennuyant_. 'Ow the wolfs make plenty _brouhaha_ to-night, _hein_? Stefan, did you command the guard to conduct our frien's 'ome?"

Stefan waggled his head from side to side in assent.

"Yes," continued Marko, "to see Italie, Paris, Londres. Particulierly Londres."

"I live in London," Arthur remarked.

"You live?" said Marko with interest. "Tell me, 'ow great is Londres?"

"How great?" repeated Arthur, doubtful what kind of greatness was indicated, moral or material.

"_Oui_, 'ow great? From one side to the other side?"

"Oh, I see," replied Arthur, and took thought. "About twenty-five kilometres, I suppose."

"Twenty-five!" Marko's eyes rounded with astonishment. "_Ecoute, Stefan; vingt-cinq kilometres._"

"But--but," demanded Stefan, "'ow many people is there?"

"About six millions," replied Arthur, swelling with pleasure. At last he had found his incredulous audience.

"But that is a nation! I do not know if there are so many in all Bulgarie," cried Marko. "'Ow do they travel? No droski could go so far--it is a day's march. But perhaps you 'ave tramway? In Sofia we 'ave tramway," he added, not without pride.

"There are trams, but most of the people travel in buses----"

"Bussesse?" interjected Stefan. "_Qu' est-ce que c'est_, bussesse?"

"Lorries--_camions_. Big automobiles containing many people. And there are also underground railways, railways under the ground in a tunnel. You know tunnels?"

"_Oui, galleria._ But a railway under a town--_mon Dieu!_" said Marko, appalled. "'Ow do the people descend to it?"

"In lifts--_ascenseurs_. From the street."

Stefan nodded assent. "I 'ave seen _ascenseurs_ at Sofia," he said.

"In these tunnels," continued Arthur, visibly warming to his work, "trains go to all parts of the town every three minutes, and the cost is only twenty _statinki_. The streets above are paved with wood."

"With _wood! Kolossal!_" said Marko, forgetting our prejudice against Bosch idiom in his wonder at this crowning marvel.

To what lengths of veracity Arthur would have gone I never knew, for at that moment a trampling of feet and a hoarse command outside announced the arrival of our escort, and Marko, still in a sort of walking swoon of amazement, went out to give them their orders.

Stefan regarded us with twinkling eyes.

"Ah, _farceur!_" he remarked, shaking his finger waggishly at Arthur. "I know all the time you make the joke, but poor Marko, you 'ave deceived 'im _absolument_. Railway under the ground, streets of wood, 'e swallow it all. Oh, naughty _Baroutchik!_"

The wolves did not come near us and our escort on our way home, but they could have had Arthur for the taking. At the moment he had nothing left to live for.

* * * * *

"Johannesburg tramway men started a lightning strike on
Thursday owing to the suspension of a conductor."--_Daily
Paper._

It seems a logical reason.

***

"Do not waste any time in entering for our 'Hidden' Geography
Competition."

_Daily Paper._

Thanks for the advice; we won't.

***

"LINACRE LECTURE.--Dr. Henry Head, F.R.L., 'Aspasia and
Kindred Disorders of the Speech.'"--_Cambridge Calendar._

Yet this is the lady who is supposed to have inspired the most famous of PERICLES' orations.

***

"Furnished Railway Carriage in Surrey garden to Let; 3 beds;
company's water, gas-cooker, and light: 2gs. weekly."

_Daily Paper._

Miss DAISY ASHFORD seems to have foreseen this development when she wrote of _Mr. Salteena's_ "compartments."

* * * * *

MR. ASQUITH (_performing the function of a battering-ram_). "I CONFESS THAT AT MY TIME OF LIFE I SHOULD HAVE PREFERRED A MORE SEDENTARY IF LESS HONORIFIC SPHERE OF USEFULNESS."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE PERSONAL TOUCH.

(_By our tireless Political Penetrator._)

For some time past, I understand, the Government has been considering steps to bring the personalities of Cabinet Ministers more prominently into the public eye. "We are not sufficiently known," said Sir WILLIAM SUTHERLAND, who has the matter in hand, "as living palpitating figures to the man in the street. We do not grip the nation's heart. We lack pep."

I told him that it was a pity about pep. I felt that the Government ought to have pep. and plenty of it. If possible they ought to have vineg. and must. too.

"You are right," he said. "Occasional paragraphs in the Press, snapshots which take us very likely with one leg stuck out in front as if we were doing the goose-step, rare provincial excursions and bouquets from admiring mill-girls are all very well in their way, but they are nothing to constant personal appearances at stated times and in stated places before an admiring mob. The heroes of sport are overshadowing us," he continued with a sigh, pushing me over a box of cigars.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked, lighting one and putting another carefully behind my ear.

"You must remember first," he replied, "that this is quite a modern difficulty. Statesmen of the past used to make their leisurely progress through the town surrounded by retainers on horseback, or in sedan-chairs, beautifully dressed and scattering largesse as they went. THOMAS A BECKET, the great Primate and Chancellor, used to have poor men to dine with him and crowds thronging round to bless him. To-day, I suppose, JOE BECKETT in his flowered dressing-gown would be a more popular figure than Lord BIRKENHEAD and the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, if you can imagine them rolled into one. In CHARLES II.'s reign, when politicians used to play _pele-mele_ where the great Clubs are now, anyone could rub shoulders with my lord of BUCKINGHAM and, if he was lucky, get a swipe across the shins with the ducal mallet itself. That is the kind of thing we want now.

"I had thoughts of running popular excursions down to Walton Heath, but I am not sure that the people would care to go so far even to see Sir ERIC GEDDES carrying the home green and Lord RIDDELL--the Riddell of the sands, as we call him affectionately down there--getting out of a difficult bunker. So I am trying to arrange for a few putting greens in railed-off spaces in St. James's Park near the pelicans, and we also propose to hold there on fine summer days the breakfast parties for which the PRIME MINISTER is so famous. We shall make a point of throwing not only crumbs to the birds, but slices of bread and marmalade to the more indigent spectators. We shall also try to get two or three open squash racket courts in Whitehall, so that on hot summer days the most carping critic who watches a rally between Mr. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN and the SECRETARY OF STATE for WAR will have to admit that we are doing our utmost to eliminate waste-products."

"But what about the clothes and the stately progress and the largesse?" I asked; the largesse idea had struck me with particular force.

"We are thinking of goat carriages and overalls for economy," he said, "and the largesse cannot, I am afraid, be allowed for in the Treasury Estimates. But we shall certainly scatter a handful or two of O.B.E.'s as we go."

"And how will you deal with the country and the outer suburbs?" I asked when my admiration had partially subsided.

"Ah, there you have the Cinema," replied Sir WILLIAM enthusiastically. "We are going to make great strides with the Cinema. Our first film, which is now in preparation, deals with the Leamington episode and has been very carefully staged. It has been necessary, of course, in the interests of art to elaborate the actual incidents to a certain extent. Coalition Liberals, for instance, were obliged to board the train in the traditional manner of the screen, leaping on to it whilst in motion and climbing, some by way of the brakes and buffers, some along the roofs of the carriages, into their reserved compartment. Then again we could not reassemble the actual gathering of Wee Frees to represent the enemy, but we secured the services of actors well trained in Wild West and "crook" parts, capably led by those two prominent comedians, _Mr. Mutt_ and _Mr. Jeff_. The film ends, of course, with the second meeting at the Central Hall, Westminster, when _Messrs. Mutt_ and _Jeff_ again appear as comic and objectionable interrupters, and are ignominiously hurled into the street.

"Very soon we hope to have all important Parliamentary debates filmed. It will be essential, of course, to provide some comic relief, and we are relying confidently on certain Members to practise the wearing of mobile moustaches and to take lessons in the stagger, the butter slide, the business with the cane and the quick reversal of the hat."

"In short you think politics should be more spectacular?"

"That's it," he said. "HOBBS the mammoth hitter and a little less of the _Leviathan_."

Greatly impressed I bit off the end of his second cigar and went back to the office to look up _Leviathan_.